Page 34 of Forever Mr Black

I smile. “Well, I’m definitely going.”

“Good.”

He goes to kiss me, and I pull back. Even though we’re engaged and all the staff knows about us, it still feels entirely inappropriate for us to be openly affectionate at work.

“We’re at work,” I remind him.

“And you’re on your lunch break.” He glances at his watch. “And I’m on mine.”

He presses his lips to mine to silence any further objections.

I hear a disgruntled sigh coming from the other side of me.

“You two make me sick,” Lucy grumbles.

“Ignore her,” I mutter against his mouth.

“I intend to.” Art smiles, carrying on kissing me.

Eleven

Irun a red lipstick over my lips and smooth the slinky, knee-length black dress across my hips. With thin spaghetti straps, the silky material clings in all the right places and makes it decently indecent. I smooth my straightened hair over my shoulder, give myself one final once-over in the mirror, and head into the walk-in wardrobe.

Art’s tweaking his hair in the mirror. Slim-fitting deep-blue jeans fit tight around his firm behind. An ink-blue shirt hugs to him like a second skin and sets off his tan. The top three buttons are undone, providing a teasing glimpse of what lies beneath. He looks hot. I lean against the doorframe and fold my arms to stop myself from jumping him.

He notices me in the doorway and does a double take.

I self-consciously fiddle with one of the straps of the dress. “I’m worried this dress might be too much. Is it okay?”

His eyes remain glued on me. “I think we’re going to be late.”

I fix him with a firm look. “Your mum’s gone to a lot of trouble, organising tonight for us. We can’t be late.”

He puts his hands on my shoulders and guides me backwards against the wall. “It’s our party. We can do what we want.” His hands skim my breasts, gliding down to the curves of my waist. He rests his forehead against mine and looks deep into my eyes. “I’m sure she won’t mind if we’re a little late.”

Soft lips graze my neck. I close my eyes and swallow. I can’t resist him. And he knows it. I slide my hands down his taut, firm abs and curl my fingers around his groin. My centre throbs. He’s so hard for me. We’ve barely touched.

“You’re beautiful, but when you look like this … Jesus.” His words caress my skin, making me tingle all over.

I unfasten his jeans and push my hand inside, feeling the dampness of his arousal against my palm. He groans, warm breath fanning against my collarbone, sending an electric current to my core.

“I want your red lips around my cock.”

Fuck.

I’m torn.

At this rate, we’re going to be late. One of us needs to be sensible and rein ourselves in, and I know it won’t be him. Despite his and Barbara’s assurances that she really doesn’t mind planning our party, I still can’t help but feel a bit guilty. Rocking up an hour late is out of the question.

“We mustn’t.” I remove my hand from inside his jeans and fasten them up. “One of us needs to be sensible. We really haven’t got time.”

He lifts his eyebrows to show his disapproval and kneels in front of me.

He’s not listening.

A playful smile dances across his lips as he glides his hands beneath my dress, tracing his fingertips up the outside of my thighs, teasingly slow.

Shit.

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