Page 23 of You Again
I was pretty sure it was me.
Dash started pressing up against me and I could feel the outline of his hard cock through his tan slacks. And I momentarily felt horrified, thinking I was probably going to leave a wet mark on his clothes.
Because I was wet.
I was so fucking wet and that was just from a freakin’ kiss.
I tore my lips away from his long enough to pant, “This is a bad idea, Dash.”
“I don’t give a fuck,” came his gritted reply. “I miss the way you taste, Henley. I miss the way you feel pressed up against me. I miss how tight your pussy grips my cock. I miss how you moan my fucking name when I’m doing everything right. And I miss the way you scream my name when I’m driving you out of your fucking mind.”
Oh.
My.
Sweet.
Jesus.
I wanted this. I wanted this more than I wanted it when I had used him to mend my broken heart three months ago. But I was at work, and he was a client-a big one.
His lips skimmed across my jaw and I forced the last words I ever wanted to say to come out. “Dash, this is my place of work,” I gasped “I can get fired.”
“So what?” he murmured against my skin. “Let them fire you. I’ll buy you your own firm.”What?But then I remembered he was in-the-millions rich.
I shook my head and snapped out of the insanity threatening to take me under. I pushed against his chest. “Dash, stop,” I rushed out. “We need to stop.” His hands fell flat on my desk, and he bent his head until it was resting on my shoulder. His breathing was labored, and I knew it was killing him to stop.
“I feel like I’m going crazy,” he admitted softly. “I can’t stop thinking about you, Henley.”
“Dash…” I whispered, my hands pulling his face up, so I could look at him.
He leaned in and this time his kiss was soft and sensual. “It’s been three months and I can’t get you out of my fucking head, Henley.”
“I’m at work, Dash,” I reminded him. I was all for having this conversation-naked, preferably-but not here and not now.
Dash straightened to his full six-three and gave me a defeated nod. “When?”
I didn’t have to ask him what he meant. I knew already. “Tonight?”Uh…desperate much?
“Okay,” he conceded. “But we’re doing this at your place. I’m not having you fucking sneaking out on me again.” That was the third time that he’s mentioned how I had left him at the hotel, and I was starting to realize he was really upset about that.
I pushed him back, jump down from my desk, and straightened my clothes. I looked up into his stormy grey eyes and said, “Okay. My place. I’ll text you the address once I get off work.”
Dash grabbed my chin in between his fingers and his next words startled the shit out of me. “Whatever Arnold has to talk to you about, it better be legit business, Henley,” he bit out. “Understand?”
Well, okay, then.
