Page 67 of Teasing Her Grumpy Boss

She pressed her palms to his big, taut biceps for leverage, for control. Her fingers curled into the solid muscle as she began to ride him. Filled with limitless energy and endurance, she took him deeper and deeper, over and over. He was big and powerful and she loved having him beneath her. Oh, yeah, he was the most incredible ride. Perfect—big enough to fill her ravenous appetite—too big really. But that was exactly what she’d wanted—an extreme experience of pleasure.

His hands cupped her breasts, teasing her nipples between finger and thumb, until—mere seconds later—she lifted and sank on him too fast for him to keep grip, so he swept his palms over her curves, slipping down to her waist, smoothing the sudden slick of sweat over her body. And then his hands spread wide on her thighs, his fingers firmed, holding her soft flesh as tightly as she was gripping his biceps. Suddenly he thrust hard, meeting her in a massive movement. She roared with pleasure then, as the duel for dominance began. Her fingers curled deep into his, pressing down as he pushed up, ratcheting the friction. They drove hard, slamming together faster and faster, each forcing the other to ecstatic abandonment.

‘So good, oh, so good,’ she panted, almost inaudible. ‘Oh, it’s never been so good.’

So good it was only seconds before she came with a harsh, high cry. Only one more before he came hard after.

Rapid, jerky breathing filled her head—her own and his. Sensual joy surged through her in a final squeeze. If she had the energy she’d laugh. But she was sweaty and breathless and so zapped she was fast sinking into a lax, sleepy mass.

She heard footsteps—the clipping sound of high heels on concrete. A cough, then laughter rising up from the courtyard below the window. She froze. People were still up, still awake. Could have heard... The realization brought reality back with a crash.

The morning after hadn’t been a very much thought-upon part of her plan. Now all the decisions came to her split-second: this would change nothing between them. They’d be colleagues who’d had a carefree kick togetheronenight. That was all. She knew he flirted with every woman he met and that this would mean nothing to him. So it had to mean nothing to her too. She liked to think he’d keep his mouth shut. While in their industry hook-ups were common, this was her first. But she knew it would hardly become notorious news—there were people far more important than her for others to talk about. And she was not going to let this get ugly. It was over already.

She peeled her chest from his, preparing to slide off his body and get back to her own room. But he pulled her back against him. He was stronger than she’d thought he’d be. He was more everything than she’d thought he’d be.

‘Stay.’ A low, sleepy word—but a command none the less. His embrace tightened. Inescapable but so irresistible.

She hadn’t expected this caring comfort either. He rolled them both in a smooth movement, settling them into a sleep position—still devastatingly intimate.

The moment of clarity she’d had before now melted in lax drowsiness as she physically melted back into his warm strength. He lifted a heavy leg over hers, his arms curled tighter—cradling her ultra-close. Consciousness slipped. Her muscles were spent, that yearning in her depths sated. The last thing she heard was another burst of laughter coming through the open window. A man’s laugh. With the last fragment of conscious energy she frowned—she recognised that laugh.

Hours later she slowly woke to a low moan echoing in her ears. Herownmoan as she released a breath that seemed to have been held for ever. Her heart was pumping, her skin—and other bits—damp andsohot. She was having the most vivid, gorgeous dream. She resisted opening her eyes, wanting to stay in the sizzling fantasy. And in that fantasy she was imprisoned in the arms of one very hot, hard body—part of that body was very,veryhard. His fingertips gently brushed down her lower belly. The urge to flex her hips—to invite—was irresistible. As she rocked back against him she felt the rebellious ache in her muscles, but she didn’t care. Not as the memories cleared—the wildness of that ride coming into focus. Not when his hips teased right back and his fingers went...

‘Good morning.’ His voice was less sleep-rusted than it had been last night, but it was still strange.

Ellie froze. Her heart stopped, totalling her oxygen supply. Then she spun, inadvertently trapping his hand between her legs. The molten-brown eyes intently focused on her weren’t the pale green ones she’d expected.

‘Oh, my God!’ She jerked to a sitting position, trapping his hand all the more. Clutching the sheet to her chest with hands curled into claws, she squawked, utterly breathless, ‘Who the hell are you?’

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