Page 2 of Naughty Festivities

“Asshole,” Jack said, taking another sip, and he couldn’t help lowering his eyes to her legs as she hopped up on the arm of the sofa and crossed them.

She was looking for attention, he realized that, but Cindy wasn’t getting it from him. Fucking hell, though, he was a starved man, and she was a pretty girl.

“Thanks,” Cindy replied, reaching in front of her to pick up the permanent menu on the table. Whether on purpose or not, and he was getting the feeling it was, she flashed him her breasts.

Say something.

Instead, he took in her petite frame, long dark hair, toned calves, and full lips.

Jack took another big sip.

Nope. He had to send her home.

She slid down the leather and sat on the sofa. “So, Chinese?”

Fuck.

He would eat and then send her home.

“Do it,” he said, and lifted his glass with a raised brow.

“Yes, please,” Cindy replied, and he poured her a Macallan to match his own. Then, he joined her on the sofa and rolled his sleeves up, exposing the tattoo on the inside of his forearm.

“Why have I never seen this before?” she asked, running her finger over it.

Shit.

“Because I’m your boss,” he said, meeting her direct stare.

“Right.” Cindy nodded and went back to ordering while he ignored the swelling of his cock.

Must get laid.

For the next hour, they went through the documentation of the bill he was working on as they sat eating their takeout.

Finally, Cindy flopped back and rested her head on the sofa. Jack turned and smiled at her. She had been an immense help, as she was every day, but he needed to send her home. She looked exhausted.

And sexy, which was a problem.

“Do you really sleep here?” she asked, turning her head to look at him.

Jack wanted to groan.

With a sigh, he dropped his pen and leaned back, mirroring her. “Yes. I have a big comfortable bed at home, and I’ve been sleeping on this damn thing.”

“Hmmm,” she moaned, and the sensual sound slid right along his cock.

He was in dangerous waters here.

“You should go home. You’re tired,” Jack said and went to sit up, but a hand landed on his chest, and he froze.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his eyes flying to hers as she climbed on top of him.

“Don’t tell me you don’t want this, senator,” she purred, and, fuck, his powerful title on her lips made him hard as hell as she then ran her hand over his cock.

Fucking hell.

He gripped her hips and readied to lift her off, but he didn’t. He closed his eyes and pushed back the groan rising in his throat at the feel of a woman stroking his hard member.

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