Page 205 of The Trouble With Bad Boys

I tap her hip. “Lift.”

“No. Not until you tell me why you stopped and suddenly you’re dressing me like I’m a damn child.” She slaps my hands away.

I release her panties and push my hands through my hair, then drop my eyes to the floor, noting my now almost-flaccid dick. I wave my hand in the proximity of my pelvis. “I don’t have a condom. I never fucking forget to suit up.”

Her eyes widen, and she finally lifts her ass to pull her panties into place. Thank fuck she finally covered her pussy. Now I don’t feel quite so filthy.

Nine years. Nine fucking years since she’s had sex. That would have made her—I quickly do the calculations in my head—seventeen!

Shit!

No wonder she’s so fucking tight.

Twelve

Sophie

My cheeks flame with embarrassment. He can say he stopped because he realized he wasn’t wearing a condom, but it seems suspiciously coincidental he came to that realization when I told him how long it had been since I’d had sex.

Well … to be fair, sex with someone else. I have sex all the time. On my own. With the help of my books, a secret stash of toys, and my amazing shower head.

I hop from the desk and gather my jeans, pulling them roughly up my legs. My bra’s next, followed by my silk blouse. With each article of clothing I put on, I strengthen my armor to shield my humiliation. I can’t believe I offered myself to him on a platter, and he’s rejected me.

He seemed so into it; so into me.

“Soph—”

I hold up my hand. “Please don’t say anything. I’m embarrassed. Mortified actually. I just want to dress, go home, and wash this all away.”

I can’t look at him as I shove my feet into my Chucks without socks. As I push past him to escape the office, he grips my arm. “I’m sorry. You have nothing to be embarrassed or mortified about. This was entirely my fault. I went too far. This never should have happened between us.” He roughly pushes his hand through his messy hair. “I’m twelve fucking years older than you, and I’m your boss. You deserve better than a fuck in the back office, Sophie, and you shouldn’t settle for anything less after nine years of abstinence.” He forces my chin up with his fingers until he has my eyes. I try to slide my gaze away, but he follows me and fills my vision. “You deserve more than being fucked by an old guy like me.” He tenses his jaw. “You should be with a guy closer to your age.”

“Yeah, well, pretty sure I’m old enough to decide where, by who, and how I want to be fucked. Good night. See you tomorrow, boss,” I snap and push past him on shaky legs, humiliation and anger flooding my system. Things were going so well. If only I’d kept my mouth shut. I’d be screaming out a perfect orgasm right about now.

There’s no way I can come back tomorrow.

* * *

My alarm blares, and I wake with a groan. My eyelids feel glued shut from my tears last night. Covering my face with my hands, I relive my mortification. There’s absolutely no way in hell I can go to work today.

I can’t face him.

Not today.

Maybe tomorrow.

Even that may be a stretch.

What was I thinking?

Oh, right. I wasn’t. Just as I didn’t think nine years ago with Paul when I happily gave him my virginity in the backseat of his car after prom—and we all know how that worked out for me. Not that I’d ever change history. If I did, I wouldn’t have James, and he’s the best thing I’ve ever done.

I throw the covers back and move through my morning routine so I can get James ready for school. The great thing about starting work at nine forty-five is that I can take James to school every day, and he only has to catch the bus home. Dad wheels himself to the bus stop down the road to collect him, and they enjoy the afternoon snack I prepare for them before I leave for work. Dad cooks dinner on the nights I work, and I cook on the nights I don’t, which means I can give him an extra break tonight because I’m not going into work today.

James is zipping up his jeans when I walk into his bedroom. His eyes light with happiness when they land on me. “Mom!” He dives for me.

I chuckle as he flings his arms around me. He’s already up to my shoulders, and I don’t think I have too much longer to enjoy his boyish ways before he’ll be too cool to greet me with this much enthusiasm, so I hug him close, drawing his scent into my lungs. “Did you miss me?”

He pulls away and nods wildly. “Grandad and I missed you heaps, but we had a boys’ night, which was pretty cool.”

---