Page 120 of Inflame

“You have room to talk. Did you wear this skirt”—his hands grip my ass and push up the fabric—“because of the ease it allows for me to pull over your panties and slip inside you? Did you know I would be here working and you wanted to make it nearly impossible for me to actually think straight?”

“Maybe.”

“Your delectable body is a punishment to my self-control.”

My lips kiss and suck on the skin right above the collar of his shirt. He places me on the smooth desk top and undoes his zipper, releasing his cock from the confining fabric. He reclines into his leather chair and wheels it closer to me. Taking each heeled foot, he pulls them apart, places them on the armrests, and slides my panties over. My nerves hit a high as he stares. Just stares at me. This is different from how he was in the elevator. It is even different from how I was last night laid out on the rug in front of the fireplace. Now, he has more time to look. Better lighting. His attention makes me want to sway with insecurity.

Am I good enough?

Has he seen and experienced better?

As confident as my outward appearance is to the world, my entire life up to now has been a struggle to find my place. Maybe it is the clichéd result of not having a father figure in my life. Maybe it is from having a mother who saw me as a byproduct of her impulsivity. Regardless, the little girl in me is as damaged as I was when I first found out the truth of my origin. Some wounds will always remain. As time goes on, the scar tissue just builds and builds, giving me a calloused reminder of their depth.

Nic moves my panties back into place and presses a thumb over the growing wet spot forming. “You captivate me, Claire.”

I hang on Nic’s words of validation. I choose to take them at face value. I have known him long enough to understand that he doesn’t just say words to say words. What he chooses to say has meaning, purpose.

With one swooping motion, he is under my skirt again and licking along the silky strip of my panties, directly over my pussy. I lean back on my hands, throw my head back, and moan. I tremble and throw myself forward, clawing at his clothed back.

Nic pulls me down onto his lap and I ungracefully adjust to the change in location.

“Lift your hips,” he instructs, waiting for me to obey.

He doesn’t have to ask twice. I raise my body up, while he pulls my panties to the side, and sit down on his cock. I grind my hips downwards, allowing him to enter me fully. My thighs bracket his and we become one living being.

“Hell, Claire,” he huffs. “You feel so good wrapped around me.”

Nic’s hands guide my hips up and down in a fluid motion that gives us both what we need. After just a few lifts, we are both gasping for air as orgasms ignite through us, hitting the boiling point.

“Damn,” I mutter, sliding from Nic’s knees and readjusting myself.

“You left me this morning,” he says casually.

“I did.”

“I didn’t like it.”

“It wasn’t personal,” I counter. I find my bag lying lopsided on the floor and walk over to retrieve it. I completely forgot I had it with me. “Angie’s here. Gotta go.”

Nic tucks his cock back into his boxer briefs, zips up his fly, and secures one button on his suit coat. He looks way less rumpled than I feel. So much for breaking out the ironing board this morning at Blake’s. Luckily that guy likes to look good, too, so he has all of the essential items in stock to impress.

My eyes trail down Nic’s towering form as he walks toward me. He pulls me to him, bites at my bottom lip, and lifts me just enough to slide back down his body—one slow inch at a time. I can feel how hard he still is through the fabric of his pants and it makes me want him all the more.

“Keep looking at me like you’re doing, and you won’t even leave this office today.”

“Quit making it sound like a punishment.”

His eyes examine mine, putting us in some sort of staring contest. Finally he breaks the silence and utters, “I’ll walk you out.”

34

CLAIRE

Nic does more than walk me out. He basically escorts me to the entrance of the area Graham has leased to Angie and me at HH to work on our business.

“Thanks,” I mumble, feeling weird that we have said nothing to each other since leaving his office space. Maybe he is having regrets. Maybe I’m being a woman and overanalyzing every little detail.

“Hey you,” Angie greets, giving me a hug. She waves behind me to Nic who retreats. “What do you think of the space?” Her smile is contagious and just seeing her excitement makes all of my doubts that this could work melt away. “I ordered a bunch of the basics and had them delivered overnight.”

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