Page 36 of Filthy Little Midlife Fling

“Are you?” he asks, voice barely more than a guttural rasp, and I realize I said that last part out loud. His hand glides against my wetness, down to where I’m aching for more. He thrusts inside me with a thick finger, maybe two, and my body lifts off the desk. It’s so good I could cry.

But then Remy drops to his knees, hooks my legs over his shoulders, and, keeping his fingers inside me, shoves his face between my legs. He licks me and groans like he’s never tasted anything so good in his life. I shudder, gripping the edge of the desk, and wonder how the hell this happened.

I’m naked and splayed on my mechanic’s desk. My mind shatters as he devours me, and for the first time in years, it goes blissfully blank.

There are no thoughts of business, or invoices, or payroll. There’s no question of how I look or what people think. I’m not worried about being the best or making sure every single detail in my life is perfect. The sensations in my body are too intense to ignore. The pleasure builds and builds and builds until it feels like I’ve utterly lost my mind.

I realize I’m pulling his hair, but I don’t have the wherewithal to stop. Vaguely, I note that my heels are digging into his back, that his free hand has moved under my ass to prop me up so he can have better access. His other hand is thrusting in and out of me in a steady, mind-melting rhythm. His tongue matches the cadence as he licks me, and I realize I’m chanting his name.

I’m out of my mind for this man, and I don’t want it any other way.

Then he shifts, and another finger presses inside me. I’m so wet there’s almost no resistance, and we both groan in unison.

“You taste like heaven,” he tells me, sending pride and pleasure spiraling inside me. “Never tasted anything so good in my life.”

To punctuate his words, he spends some time focusing on the little bundle of nerves at the apex of my thighs. We’ve gone from zero to sixty in no time at all, and I never want this moment to end.

“I want you so much,” he says against my skin. “I can’t wait to have my cock inside you. Can’t wait to feel how wet and tight you’ll be.”

“So do it,” I grate out through clenched teeth, desperate. “Please, Remy.”

It isn’t like me to ask for what I want, but then again, it also isn’t like me to end up naked on a man’s desk within a week of knowing him. It’s like a switch has flipped inside me, and suddenly I’ve remembered that I’m a sexual being. The noises Remy makes, the way he looks at me, the reverent way he touches me…it makes me feel safe and sexy and so turned on I can’t think straight.

Remy groans, leaning his head against my thigh. “You can’t say those kinds of things to me, Audrey.”

I arch into his touch, and he curls his fingers in a way that makes my thoughts disintegrate. I fall back on the desk, bliss coating my body like a blanket. “Why not?” I manage to ask.

“Because I want to taste your orgasm on my tongue, and if you keep talking to me that way, I won’t be able to resist shoving my cock inside you before I get you there.”

I arch off the desk as he thrusts his fingers inside. Then his mouth is on me, and there’s nothing but white-hot pleasure splintering through me like a fork of lightning. I come with a cry, grinding against his mouth, his hands, wanton and out of control. My climax spears me to the desk, stiffening my limbs, arching my back. Remy doesn’t stop his torture until I go limp, and then he slowly stands above me and reaches for his belt buckle.

He’s breathing heavily. His eyes are wild. He looks like a conquering hero come to demand his due. I’ve never been so turned on by a man’s gaze in my entire lonely life. I feel like I could combust from him looking at me just like that. Fireflies flit in my veins, reminding me of the pleasure he’s able to deliver.

He slides the belt halfway out of the buckle.

Then his phone rings.

I groan, and Remy shakes his head. “Ignore it.”

His hands shake as he unbuckles his belt completely, unzips his pants, and hooks his thumbs into the waistband to pull them down. I rise up onto my elbows, and his gaze drops to my chest. His breath shudders as he stares at me—

And his phone shrieks again.

Remy swears, digging into his pocket to pull out the phone, face like thunder. But then he sees the screen and goes still.

He curses again, shoving a hand through his hair. “I’m late. I was supposed to pick Danny up from camp twenty minutes ago.” He turns away from me, his pants gaping open to reveal black boxer-briefs, and swipes to answer the phone. “I’m on my way. Yeah. I got caught up at work. Be there in ten.”

I sit up, still dazed, and cast my gaze around the room. It looks different, altered somehow. Remy picks my clothes up and hands them to me, his face tight. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I have to go.”

“I understand.”

“Do you mind locking up when you leave?”

“Not at all,” I answer, pulling on my panties. I stand on wobbling legs to get them up and notice the pause in Remy’s movements.

He stares at the red lace curving over my hips. “You were wearing those all day?” he asks, voice low.

I step into my leggings. “My undies?”

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