Page 51 of Wrecked on the Mountain

“Weproveit.”

“Turn around, Brooke.”

Her eyes flash. “What?”

“You heard me.” I tighten my grip on her waist, voice gravel and command. “Turn around. Put your hands on that desk.”

The shock in her expression lasts all of a second. Then she turns, ever so slowly, until her palms are pressed to the desk surface and her ass is flush against my hips.

Her back arches, just enough to push that perfect ass up into me, and my vision explodes at the sight. That seductive curve. Those hips made for my hands.

The subtle tease of lace barely hidden beneath the waistband of her snow pants. The same lace I saw earlier. The one she knew I’d see. The one shewantedme to see.

“You wore these panties on purpose, didn’t you?” I murmur, sliding a hand down her spine and gripping one cheek through the tight fabric. “Bent over in the snow, knowing I’d be watching. Knowing exactly what they’d do to me.”

Her breath stutters somewhere between a moan and a whimper, and her fingers curl tighter against the desk, hips rocking against my groin.

“Tell me, Doc…” I lean in, lips brushing the shell of her ear, “you like being a naughty girl?”

She nods, barely, but it’s there.

“Because naughty girls,” I whisper, grazing my teeth along her jaw, “get punished.”

I rock my hips forward, grinding the full length of my cock against the round swell of her ass, and the sound she makes nearly undoes me.

“Still think I’m too grumpy?” I ask, voice dark and full of promise.

She glances over her shoulder, eyes molten, mouth parted.

"Yes."

Game fucking on.

Chapter Eleven

Brooke

Yes.

The word pulses through me as I bend over Jamie’s desk, palms flat against the cool surface, spine arched just enough to tease.

My breath is shaky, every inch of me buzzing as his towering presence fills the room behind me.

He doesn’t move at first.

Just stands there, looming like a storm cloud, heavy, hot, and seconds from unleashing. I can feel the weight of his stare dragging over me like a touch.

My cheeks flush as my thighs clench tighter from the arousal pulsing through my body.

"You wore these on purpose, didn’t you?"

His low, gravelly voice coils around my spine. From behind me, his fingers find the waistband of my pants and trace alongit slowly, teasing that tiny strip of exposed black lace like it's a secret only he gets to see.

I should be nervous.

The door is locked, the station is quiet, and I’m bent over a desk like a woman with no sense of self-preservation.

But instead, I feel… electric.