Page 28 of My Orc (Secret) Boss

I lifted my head. “Um, Memnon? Where are you taking me?”

“Someplace I can have you to myself,” he grumbled.

Oh. Well, I knew he wasn’t a fan of crowds, so that might explain that. On the other hand, he’d lived in New York City for a decade. So was this reclusiveness only an issue since moving to Eastshore? If so, then something else must have set him off.

That blonde fitness coach who’d been clinging to his arm for some reason when I went up on stage? Something his brother had said to him? Or…

Was he angry about somethingIdid?

When we reached the beach, he turned and began to tromp along the base of the dunes, just out of reach of where the sea grasses anchored them. He wasn’t in a hurry anymore.

In fact, his hand—his touch on my butt—had turned almost leisurely. He squeezed slightly, then loosened, then squeezed again.

I dropped my head, pressing my face into the back of his t-shirt to muffle my groan. I mean, surely he wasn’ttryingto turn me on? We were walking down the beach! Anyone could see us!

Um,he’swalking. You’re just along for the ride, aren’t you?

The thought ofridingMemnon had me groaning again.

“Maya.” His voice was raspy, rough. “I think there’s something you ought to know.”

Oh thank goodness, he was finally going to explain what all this was about. “What?” I asked, just as he made an abrupt right turn to climb a little cut through between the dunes.

I felt him stop, then he shifted his hold on me, his fingers sliding under my skirt to brush against my undies.

Oh God, I was already wet, wasn’t I?

I lifted my head, trying to see where we were. Memnon had found a little empty lot, one of the beachfront properties someone owned but hadn’t developed yet. The scrub oaks and kudzu hid us from the street, and the dunes hid us from anyone on the beach.

Mostly.

I squirmed. “Memnon?” I prompted before.

My response was his other hand, joining the first. This one cupped my ass cheek as the first slid between my thighs, along the soaked gusset of my underwear. He inhaled, long and deep.

“I just thought I ought to tell you that orc senses are more attuned than humans. For the last week, I’ve known when you’re turned on.”

Oh God.

With a humiliated groan, I dropped my forehead to his back once more.

I felt him chuckle—Memnon wouldn’t do anything as emotive as laugh out loud—as he pushed my legs a little farther apart. Last night, he’d had his fingers in me, and then he’dlickedthem.

Now he slid his fingers along my cleft, and I felt my pussy clench in desperation.

“I can smell you, Maya.” He stroked me again. “I can smell your need.”

I groaned again, trying to agree without words.

“I can make you feel good again,dkaar.” There was that word Giza called his Mate. Vaguely, I wondered what it meant, but I think my brain was too hung up on the wholemake you feel goodthing.

Memnon shifted, settling his weight, and his voice turned silky. “Would you like that? You want me to make you feel good?”

My fingers clenched the cotton of his t-shirt, and I found myself nodding furiously against his back.

He might have chuckled again, even as he caressed me. “You have to say it, Blossom. I don’t want to confuse this. I have to hear you say you want me to make you feel good.”

That’s right: I was hisboss. We were treading a fine line here, despite both being adults. I needed to make my consent clear.

---