Page 52 of Edge of Secrets

Duncan looked at his brother. “See? Problem solved. We’re done here for the day. Let’s wrap it up. We’ll talk tomorrow morning about when to meet.”

Bruce got up and backed toward the door. “Fine, then. I’ll just go on home and slave away on my Rosetta Stone while you two lovebirds?—”

“Out, Bruce!” Duncan’s voice lashed like a whip.

“I’ll just, ah, engage this lock for you. To save time, you know.” Bruce flicked the lever and ducked out the door. It snicked shut behind him.

“Duncan! That was unnecessary!” I said hotly. “You embarrassed me to death! I promised him that I’d get those goblin cave manuscripts—oh!”

He pulled me up onto my feet and led me around his desk, then settled me onto his lap, straddling him. I struggled, twisting.

“Hey! Are you nuts? The conference room wasn’t kinky and inappropriate enough for you? You have to up the ante?”

“Always.” He stifled my protest with a persuasive kiss that stole my breath.

I grasped his wrists for balance, gasping for air.

“It’s just a kiss,” he murmured, nuzzling my throat. “About that conference room. Every time I pass the door, my dick gets hard. No, no, don’t panic. The door’s locked.”

“That makes it worse!” I protested. “Everyone is speculating!”

“No they aren’t,” he said. “Everybody’s gone home but Bruce, and he’s already drawn his own conclusions about us. Forget all of them.” He gripped my hips, pulling me tight against that hot bulge, and kissed me hungrily. “I did a crazy thing today,” he said, between kisses. “And it’s all your fault.”

“Oh, really?” I quavered, thighs clenching. “My fault? How’s that?”

“I was supposed to convince my sister Ellie to see reason, and change her major from theater back to economics.” His arms tightened, grinding his erection against my melting, quivering sweet spots. I could hardly breathe, it felt so good.

“I called her,” he continued in a low, wondering voice. “I was about to do my spiel, just like a fucking robot when someone pushes the button. And then I found your petals.”

“Really?” I said. My panties and his trousers were a whisper-thin barrier between the scorching heat of his erection. “And?”

“I just stopped. And I told her to go for it.” He sounded bewildered.

I was so surprised, I laughed. “Really? Just like that?”

“Just like that. Out of nowhere. There I was, rose petals all around me. I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t bring her down. The program crashed. And it’s all your doing, Nell.”

My heart swelled. I cradled his face in my hands and kissed him. “Congratulations,” I whispered. “You did a great thing. You did the right thing.”

He cupped his hand behind my head and deepened the kiss.

My long sweater skirt was rucked up high on my thighs, over the same beige gartered stockings I’d worn the day before, and his erection pressed against the gusset of my panties. I tried to pull away, gasping for breath. “I’m going to give you a great big wet spot,” I warned him. “You won’t be fit to be seen.”

“Only one solution.” He lifted me up, cupping my bottom, and swiftly yanked his belt loose and his pants open. His cock sprang up, empurpled, stiff, and hard. I cried out as Duncan slid his finger delicately inside the crotch of my panties and into that hot, liquid well of pure sensation, swiveling and stroking. A sharp tug against my hip, the fabric strained, and ripped. He pulled me back down, and I gasped with pleasure as he slid his thick, stiff cock slowly, completely inside me.

I braced myself against his chest, arching and wiggling. “Hey! Hold on! I’ve been spoiling you, but don’t you start thinking your masterful alpha bullshit is how it’s going to be with us,” I warned. “Now you’re ripping my clothes?”

He slid relentlessly deeper, then rocked tenderly inside me. “But my masterful alpha bullshit always seems to make you come,” he pointed out, his voice a low, velvety rumble. “And I can buy you more clothes. Anything you want.”

“That’s not the point,” I said fiercely, though my body was betraying me. I could barely speak. I was swaying on top of him, head thrown back, gasping for air, my pussy squeezing eagerly around his cock. “It’s like I said that first night. Just because you can turn me on doesn’t mean you control me. That you run the show. Remember that.”

His fingers clutched my hips, lifting, pulling, pulsing. “That’s way too deep for a guy like me. Especially when all the blood in my body’s been redirected to my dick.”

“Playing dumb is a cheap excuse,” I shot back.

“Only one I’ve got,” he admitted. “Your waitress friend told me I could make up for my intellectual shortcomings by being good in bed.”

That snapped me out of my sensual daze, and I jerked upright. “No! She didn’t!”

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