Page 58 of Red Hot Harmony

There was a push of thigh against thigh, the slide of a hand, the caress of a finger. She was clutching my shoulders, whimpering, as I pressed into her warmth, the first thrust a little shallow. The second one deep and certain. Prying her willing body open. Open for me.

My palms circled around to her back and swept along the column of her arching spine.

She responded with a strained mew and that was when I remembered how loud she’d been that night in my penthouse.

I pressed one hand against her mouth while the other cupped the nape of her neck. Puffs of hot breath hit my skin, the sounds becoming muffled and hopefully undetectable on the other side of the door that separated us from the people who worked here.

It was very quick.

In other, more ideal conditions, I’d make this frenzied joining of us last longer, but while I liked taking risks, and being discovered doing the dirty in someone’s office was definitely considered a risk, my conscience told me Camille didn’t feel that way. She’d much rather prefer this tryst remained our secret.

Something rattled inside the desk, and its legs scrapped the floor, the noises of the furniture blending with the noises of our fucking.

It was magnificent.

Then we came together.

I dropped my hand from her mouth and splayed it against the surface of the desk next to where she was sitting. My chin rested on her shoulder. Strange things that were probably the result of dopamine and adrenaline and all the other hormones and chemicals known to humanity rushing through my veins and zinging through my nerve endings were happening to my body.

And I liked it.

Not just the fact that she felt nice and tight and hot around me.

I liked the other part too.

The emotions that simmered just beneath the surface. The images of what it could be like for us if she were mine. Not momentarily butforever.

“There are napkins…” Camille mumbled into my chest, fisting my shirt with both hands.

I drew a deep breath and looked around. And, yes, there was a box of tissues sitting on the edge of the desk.

We cleaned up in a hurry, giggling.

“This can never happen again...in my office,” Camille said, straightening her dress while I was organizing myself.

“To be determined.” I winked at her.

She blushed.

“Harper works here too, you know.” She gestured at the computer, then began rearranging the items on her desk.

“Then he should use sanitizer.” I positioned myself behind her and wrapped my arms around her waist.

Camille stopped fumbling with the notebooks, spun around, and slapped my chest. “You're a filthy animal.”

“Yourfilthy animal.” I leaned in and kissed her.

“Are we still making it to the restaurant?”

“Yes.”

After we made sure we were presentable, we exited the office.

“Do I need to sterilize things before I touch them?” Harper asked, emerging at the end of the corridor.

His face didn’t look happy.

“Only the desk, buddy,” I said as we approached. “The chair didn’t suffer.” And after giving him a pat on the shoulder, I pulled Camille past him and outside to my car.

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