Page 79 of A Ticking Time Boss

Carter doesn’t seem to be breathing. A large hand comes to rest on my knee, and I let him spread my legs. One hooks over his, my bare foot resting against his knee.

“I was lying like this,” I whisper. “But under the covers.”

“How modest.” His warm hand rests on my inner thigh, his voice hoarse. “But what were you doing?”

I touch myself tentatively. Fingers moving in a familiar pattern. I’m already wet, and it’s embarrassing, but then I hear the soft murmurs in my ear.

“Fucking hell, do you know how hot you are? Doing this?” His left arm curves around my waist, tugging me firmly against his body. Long fingers brush over my nipple. “Do you usually tease yourself for a long time or make yourself come fast and hard?”

“It depends,” I whisper. “If I’m in a rush, or if I’m… very turned on.”

He bends over my shoulder to see what I’m doing and strands of his hair tickle my bare skin. His hardness is a heavy, warm weight against my leg.

“Look at that,” he mutters, watching my fingers circle. “That’s it.”

I lean my head against him and focus on the feelings. On the pleasure radiating from my own touch and from the erotic pinch of his fingers on my nipple. I’m breathing hard, but I’m keeping it together.

Until he kisses my neck.

I moan and a full-body shiver rushes over me. I have to pause my fingers or risk falling over the edge too soon.

Carter’s large hand slides up my inner thigh until his fingers brush my own. Asking to take over, just like I’d done with him.

I let him.

Oh, it’s so different when it’s not your own hand, and by God, had I forgotten that? It’s been too long, far too long, and I can’t wait—

He slides a finger inside. We’re both breathing hard, and when he adds his thumb, circling, I surrender entirely. Close my eyes and focus on breathing.

“You’re not watching the movie,” he murmurs against my cheek. “Pay attention.”

I turn my face toward his. “Asshole,” I say.

He laughs darkly and presses a kiss to my lips. With his fingers moving, pressed against him, it doesn’t take long until my pleasure turns into a coil ready to spring.

“Carter,” I breathe. “I can’t—I’m not—”

“Let me hear it,” he says. “Let me feel it.”

Pleasure rushes through my body and makes my back arch. My legs close on instinct, his hand trapped between them, still moving. Drawing out the last of my orgasm.

I feel weak when I finally collapse back against him. My thighs are weak, and I’m sensitive, which he seems to know, because his hand just gently cups me.

“Fuck, you’re sexy,” he says in my ear. “Watching you come nearly made me explode.”

“I can’t believe that just happened.”

He kisses my neck again. “I can. You felt so good around my finger. Clenching, and unclenching, like you were squeezing my cock.”

“Oh God.”

“Too much?” His hands move reverently over my body. “I’ve wanted you for weeks. When we’ve argued, when we’ve joked. I thought of this. The phone sex the other night nearly drove me mad.”

I twist in his arms and reach for his neck, kissing him. My enthusiasm seems to take him by surprise, but he reciprocates, hands bracing my waist.

“To bed,” I tell him. “Now.”

In one swift movement he stands with me still in his arms. He walks and I kiss his neck and shoulders. It’s a great division of labor.

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