Page 252 of One Bossy Disaster

It’s probably unhealthy and absolutely indecent.

Completely inappropriate when she wakes up with my tongue already working on her clit. Every time she comes into the office, the blinds snap shut and she leaves teeth marks on my wrist from stifling her moans.

Almost every day and it’s still never enough.

I’d say she enjoys the routine as much as I do.

I think a few people have gotten the message. Hannah noticeably takes her lunches away from her desk anytime Destiny visits.

I don’t blame her. I also don’t care.

Frankly, I’m just glad she hasn’t handed in her notice after watching her boss transform his office into a naked freakshow.

That isn’t even touching the number of times I’ve had her outside.

On the grass, the dock, the yacht, once I managed to lure her back on it after we triple checked the weather for clear skies.

Throbbing flesh does a lot to chase away bad memories.

So do a few hours in my cabin with the glass walls, where the only storm is us, gasping and sweating and groaning each other’s names through clenched teeth.

She always comes so sweet for me.

When it comes to Destiny, I’m as shameless as I am fucking insatiable.

And right now, Ineedto have her again. Simple as.

She looks me up and down, a smile quirking her lips, nodding at my hard-on. “Careful, boy. I almost think you want us to get slapped with indecency charges.”

“There’s an easy workaround, and it involves dragging your cute ass back to the vehicle right this second,” I growl.

“One that won’t get us arrested? It’s a busy place with the fall tourists and all...”

“I’ll drive off-road, dammit. Into the trees, the brush, where there’s no one around to see.”

“Hmmm,” she mutters thoughtfully, holding my gaze as she licks up the cone, drawing the ice cream back into her mouth with a curl of her tongue.

Little she-devil.

She’s about to find out I’m willing to face the rap for public indecency if she keeps teasing me like that.

“Tell me,” she says, not looking away. I’m too caught up in the way the sun reddens her nose and highlights her freckles.

“Tell you what?” I ask.

The sun gleams on her hair and fuck, I want to thread my fingers through it andpulluntil she tilts her head back and exposes her throat.

All the better to bite you, my dear.

I want a hundred, a thousand, terrible, filthy things.

“When will you get tired of me?” she asks, but her voice is a whisper.

My brows go up.

“Never. How is that a question?”

“Can’t blame a girl for asking. I almost believe you.”

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