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Her eyes narrowed on me and she began to extract my hand from between her legs. “It’s not funny, Rafael.”

I allowed her to slowly guide me out, though strategically grazed her sensitive clit as one final reminder of how good I just made her feel.

“You look good coming on my fingers, mamacita.”

She eyed my glistening fingers and chewed on her lower lip. “Do you have something to clean…” Her words trailed off awkwardly.

I smirked again and shook my head. “Fuck no. Not when I’m going to use them later.”

“We’re not having sex,” she practically spat.

Leaning into her space again, I captured her chin with my ‘clean’ hand.

“I meant, I want the lasting reminder of your smell and taste on my fingers for when I fuck myself later.”

Greer’s jaw dropped and her eyes flared wide. I pulled away and laughed openly while trying to adjust my aching dick, satisfied I’d given her a vision to make her thighs squirm.

“Now,” I said, re-buckling my seat-belt. “Ice cream? My treat.”

“No fucking way,” she breathed out, as I did a U-turn and took the streets of suburbia as if they were my own personal race track.

Chapter 21

-Greer-

I glanced across at Raf while adjusting my underwear, wishing I could remove the damp, irritating material completely.

He wore the lazy smirk well. Too well. Infuriatingly well.

As the pleasure-high subsided, it gave way to ramifications; we just crossed boundariesfor a second time,and it made things messier. Not only that, but I barely resisted.

“Rafael?” I said, keeping my tone light.

He tipped his head my way to indicate he was listening.

“I’m not sure where to go from here. I mean, I’ve never, er, crossed the line with a client before. I think Colton will need to know. He may want to change PR reps.”

Guilt slammed into me. I could have just cost our firm hundreds of thousands of dollars over this mistake.

“I won’t let that happen,” Raf stated, as if it were that simple.

I shook my head. He wasn’t grasping my meaning. “There are high-profile reputations at stake, and it would look bad if-”

“You mean yours andyourfirm’s reputation?” he cut in angrily. “Fuck, Greer, I just finger-fucked you on a suburban street in the dead of night, not filmed it and blackmailed your fucking firm.Fuck!”

He ran a hand down his face, and I balked when I realized it was the same hand that had been buried between my legs. As if realizing the same thing, Raf held it up and inspected his fingers.

I expected a smirk. A snort of amusement. Instead, I got a hard glare that felt as scathing as it looked.

“I didn’t pick you as fickle, Boss Lady.”

“Fickle?”I exclaimed indignantly. “I almost fucked a client. What part of that doesn’t scream inappropriate to you?”

A long, sinister-like laugh rolled from him. “Baby, wedidn’talmost fuck. Almost fucking is when my cock is sliding through your juices and teasing your pussy opening.”

I gulped hard. That single description turned my insides molten.

“Besides,almostfuckingis something I never do,” he added needlessly. The cock-sure smirk was back.

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