Page 53 of The Attraction File

“Oh, Edgar. This seems dangerous. Do you think the company is at risk?”

Her soft blue eyes grew wide as she turned to me. Only I couldn’t keep their gaze. Mine kept dropping to those lips. Those suckable, bitable, fuckable lips.

How was I going to spend a week in London with Evaleen without trying to give her an orgasm? I didn’t know if my cock would let me.

I tried to focus on anything other than her mouth, those red glistening lips inches from my own. You would think I would be embarrassed blatantly staring at her, but the heat burned up any logical thought or feeling I had.

Then it happened. It occurred so quickly I wasn’t sure who started it. It was probably me, but she hadn’t resisted.

I kissed Evaleen.

Not a light, sweet peck on the cheek or lips, but a full-on passionate kiss. My lips grazed and then seared to hers. My tongue pushed and plundered and I shuddered from what I sampled.

I thought I would feel relief but everything intensified. Memories of when I first saw her like an angel in the night flooded my brain. But the thoughts now were painted with the actual feel of her. Now I knew how she tasted, how sweet she smelled and as my fingers grazed her cheeks, how soft she felt.

When I finally got the strength to pull away and gaze at her, everything about Evaleen was flushed. She was dazed and everything I longed for.

“I don’t know what came over me, Evaleen.”

I knew. Totally, one hundred percent, knew. It just seemed the thing to say when you first kiss someone and you don’t know if it was okay that you did it.

She got up and turned to face me. I flinched with worry for what was to come.

Evaleen was about to let me have it. That I took advantage of her being in my home. And, yeah, I did do that. But, I would have kissed her if we were at the office too. Which didn’t make it any less terrible.

As she stood there without even an inch of air between us, Evaleen placed her hand on my shirt. Her fingers curled into the fabric. I swallowed as she pulled me down to face her. Those blue eyes molten as they traveled to my mouth. “It’s okay, Edgar. Really.”

Then she kissed me. This time it was her. It was also her hand, the one not curled into my shirt, tugging at my hair, forcing my mouth to open even more.

Everything she did caused my heart to thunder in my chest. How had I not known she wanted me to kiss her? Maybe it was the amped up emotions from what I just showed her, but I didn’t want to think about that. I didn’t want to believe that.

I wanted to believe Evaleen dug her fingers into my shirt because she needed this as much as me. That her mouth craved mine and I was giving her everything she had wanted for so long. That this infatuation was never one sided.

There was some trepidation, restraint in how she kissed so I plunged my tongue into her mouth. I helped her with everything I had because I didn’t want to pretend anymore. Evaleen had to know how badly I wanted to have her.

When her tongue came out it curled and captivated me.

I groaned and pushed her back up onto my desk, lifting her skirt in the process. She let out a squeak and stiffened, but as we kissed she melted back into my arms.

My hands slid up her body until they cupped her breasts. They were perfect, and every time I squeezed them she let out a groan. Those were some man-toy tits; I could play all day with them.

I dropped one of my hands to her thigh, inching up her soft skin, while the other remained on her chest. Her nipple was hard, I could feel it but I wanted her to squirm, to rub herself on me. So my fingers took that little bead and pinched.

Evaleen released from the kiss, her head fell back as she arched her back. She was so sensitive. I wondered if she was one of those women who could have an orgasm just from tit play.

“You are so fucking sexy, Evaleen. I want to do everything to you.”

And I meant it. I wanted tonight to be every fantasy I had ever had about her come true.

Her head lifted and something went up. A wall. Evaleen shook her head. “Define everything?”

The way she spoke was as if we were in a client meeting and not on my home office desk playing tongue tango.

“Whatever you want me to do. I don’t want you to feel like we have to have sex. This is nice. In fact, it’s more than nice.”

She let go of me and placed her hand over her eyes. “Fuck. Fuck, I hate this.”

A stream of tears rolled past her hand. Evaleen was crying again. What was it about my touch that made her cry?

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