Page 11 of Her Supermodel Stalker
I gaze at her lustrous, pink lips. I remember how good her lips tasted, and I desperately want more.
I swoop down to claim them. She’s reluctant at first but soon kisses me back. Our tongues tangle as she lets out an adorable noise. Feeling her soft breasts against my chest, I slip my hand between us and cup her gently. She moans softly and wriggles her pelvis against me, making my dick jolt. My lips sealing on hers, I hike up her skirt and grab her ass, squeezing her soft flesh.
Her moan encourages me, and I continue to explore her. Brushing her juncture, I wait for her consent. She spreads her thighs and tilts up her hips, and I cup her hot sex before swiping my thumb over the panel of her panties. It’s wet. The realization pumps more blood to my cock, and I grunt.
I slip a finger under the fabric and finger her folds, gliding in her moisture and rubbing her clit. “Oh, Devin,” she coos.
“Yes, sweet thing,” I whisper into her ear. “Want me to stop?”
She pauses for a second. “N-no. Go on, please.”
I don’t need to be asked twice. Pushing a finger into her tight little hole, I spiral it up her slippery walls, watching her eyes turn dreamy and hot. She’s melting under my touch. I slip my other hand under her bra and pinch her swollen nipple. Lexi gasps and digs her fingers into my arm. Even the pain she inflicts on me is delicious. I pull out my finger from her gripping walls and tweak her sensitive nub. She cries out as a warm jet of cream splatters onto my hand.
Lexi trembles as she slides down the wall. I catch her in my arms and cradle her.
A moment later, she stirs. “Why are you doing this to me?” she whispers.
What a question! “Because you’re a sexy little thing, Lexi,” I say, kissing her hair. It isn’t as frizzy as yesterday, and she’s letting it down. “Don’t you like what I did to you?”
“Mmm, yes,” she whispers with a blush. “But I don’t want to lose my job.”
I’m taken aback. What is she talking about? I’ll never fire her. And then it hits me. I’m her boss, and I have a playboy reputation. She thinks I’m playing her. I’m an inconsiderate, impatient jerk.
“I’m sorry,” I say to her. “I promise I won’t hurt you.”
She doesn’t answer, obviously not trusting me. She pulls away and fixes her clothes while looking in the mirror before turning to leave.
“Where are you going to have your lunch?”
She pauses. “Burger King.”
“Good,” I say. “I’m going there, too.”
Chapter 7
Lexi
I’m still trying to register what just happened on our way to the Burger King in Devin’s Porsche.
One minute I was looking for my son in the vineyard’s garden, the next minute, I was in my boss’s house, letting him finger me into an orgasm. What happened to my resolution to keep a distance from him? It was totally bizarre. The man barely knew me, and yet he made me feel he’d wanted me forever. When he said he wouldn’t hurt me, he looked so sincere, and I was tempted to believe him, although my head is still full of questions.
And why did I let him take us to lunch? This is ridiculous. But the man is hard to refuse. He insisted, going through the trouble of transferring Jimmy’s car seat from my car to his. His determination, paired with Jimmy’s enthusiasm, rendered me unable to decline further. The boy has taken an immediate liking to the man who will pet a squirrel for him, much to my chagrin.
As much as I’m annoyed, I can’t help glancing at him from the corner of my eye. He’s wearing a t-shirt over jeans, but there isn’t anything casual about the way he looks. The man is born a model. Hell, he could wear a towel and look striking. I picture him with a towel wrapping around his waist, and then I imagine the towel slipping, and I drool. Holy cow. Get a handle on yourself!
Devin pulls into a spot at Burger King’s parking lot, and I get out of the car immediately. If I stayed longer, I would start daydreaming again.
People stare at the three of us. The car doesn’t belong there, neither does Devin Gamble.
Come on, people! I argue silently and nervously.We might be a family on our wine-tasting tour. That is if we could be mistaken into a family at all. Although I’m in a fitted shirt and dress skirt, I’m still a simple farm girl. There’s no way people would mistake me for the family of the sophisticated man next to me. But Devin seems to be determined to create a false impression because as soon as he locks the car, he stoops down and carries Jimmy in his arms.
The child squeals delightfully. “I’m taller than Mommy!”
I smile, warmed by the sight. How often have I pictured this? A man on my side, protecting my son? This picture couldn’t be more perfect.
“We should perhaps order to-go,” I say to Devin before we get to the front of the line, knowing he probably doesn’t want public attention and there are plenty of curious eyes around us. Even with his sunglasses and baseball cap, Devin is too conspicuous not to be spotted by even regular people. Besides, like my mom says, this is a small town.
“But I want to play here,” Jimmy protests.
