Page 3 of Grump and Grumpier

I’m halfway to freedom when one of their deep voices stops me in my tracks. “Not so fast, Miss Flores.”

“You can call me Ana.”Why did I say that?I’m leaving. They don’t need to call me anything.

“Maybe you should show us exactly how you like to be worked.” It’s Mr. Brooks—Derek—talking. Both men have turned in their chairs to face me, and I’m unable to take another step toward the door. My attraction to them is too strong.

“We need to be sure you’re a good fit for the job, and we want to be sure we’re a good fit for you,” Jansen Bennett says.

Oh, if I thoughtIwas making things sound dirty, I have nothing on Derek and Jansen. They have filthy, filthy things on their minds.

Part of me is still clinging to one last little shred of professionalism, but it’s like a rope frayed to a single fiber. This interview is actually over, and I know I’m not going to work here, but I need to see where this goes.

It’s not every day that two men this hot come on to me. Not any day, actually. This has never happened, probably never will again, and I don’t want to leave with regrets.

The conference room door is closed. There are no internal windows, only the ones facing out to the far-off vista. The receptionist was going home, and hopefully the rest of the office is empty, too.

“What would you like me to do?” The words come out of my mouth as if someone else is controlling my voice.

“You can start by undoing a couple of buttons onyour blouse.” It’s Jansen speaking, and it feels like he’s issuing a dare.

Can I do this?ShouldI do this? It’s ridiculous, and so very inappropriate, but my fingers are apparently under the same control as my voice.

Keeping my eyes on the two men, I find the top button on my blouse and slip it out of its slot. Derek’s nostrils flare. Jansen’s eyes go dark. I undo another button, and both men shift in their seats.

Nothing that’s happening seems real, except for the way the two of them are watching me.

“Undo the rest of them.” Now it’s Derek bossing me around. These CEOs may have their faults, but they sure seem to work well together, and the implications of that are making me wet.

Slowly, as if I’m in a dream, I open another button, then another, until my shirt hangs open at my front.

“Come over here,” he says.

My feet move automatically, and the next thing I know, I’m standing right in front of both of them.

Jansen parts my shirt, pushing it open to each side of my chest, exposing my bra. “Very pretty, Miss Flores.”

“Pale pink lace. So sweet and innocent.” Derek strokes the back of a finger over my bra, right over the spot where my nipple is quickly going hard. “Are you innocent, Miss Flores?”

Does he really think that if I were innocent I’d have so easily opened my shirt for them during a job interview? As I take in their broad shoulders, sharp jawlines, and lush lips, I realize the answer is yes, yes I would have.

Derek runs his fingers just under the lace that trims the cups of my bra. When my legs wobble a bit from the lust flooding my veins, Jansen pulls me into his lap, slipping my blazer off in one smooth movement but leaving my arms tangled in my shirt sleeves, which has the effect of pressing my chest up and out.

He gently tugs my braid, sending tingles down my spine and tipping my head back against his shoulder as he runs his lips along my neck.

Derek opens the front clasp of my bra and makes a low hiss of approval just before taking one of my nipples between his lips. There’s nothing tentative about his actions—he goes at me with the same intensity I saw in his eyes, and immediately triggers sensations all throughout my body.

As he sucks on one breast, his fingers play with my other nipple, but when I lift my head, I see that it’s not Derek, but Jansen who’s pinching and twisting, the two of them working together like they know exactly what my body wants and needs.

My head falls back again when a hand slides up my thigh and a thumb strokes over my heated center. My underwear is there as a thin barrier, but it doesn’tmatter, because I’m already on edge, primed to get off, and these two are playing me like an instrument.

My breath goes shallow and I start to moan. I should worry that someone outside of these walls might hear me, but I can’t be bothered to care.

There’s more rubbing in just the right spot as teeth drag over one nipple and a fingertip flicks the other, and I lose control, though with these two men I never had any to begin with. Stars spark behind my eyelids as my body seizes and my pussy throbs, satisfied and frustrated at the same time, wanting more from them, even though this feels so very, very good.

My cheeks are hot, and as I return to myself, I become aware that I’m still in Jansen’s lap. This is so bizarre, so incredibly unexpected. Just as a twinge of self-consciousness starts to surface, hands lift me and settle me onto the conference table, where I wiggle out of my shirt and bra.

Jansen’s eyes are heavy-lidded as he parts my legs and pushes my skirt up with smooth self-assurance, revealing my remaining scrap of underwear. “Ah, a matching set.” He hooks a finger under the thin strap at my side and tugs.

I lift my hips, eager to help him remove my underwear so he can see how hot and wet they’ve made me. While he’s sliding the silky fabric down my legs, he leans in and buries his face between my thighs. When my underwear is free of my high heels,he spreads me open further, and I can only imagine how I must look to him—to both of them.

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