Indecent Suggestion - By Elizabeth Bevarly Page 0,29

was going to come to light instead. Or maybe it would just plain come.

But anything he might have said dried up in his throat when Becca removed her hands from his shoulders and lifted them to her blouse. She immediately began to unbutton it, hesitating not a second as she pushed each pearly little button through its hole.

“Becca?” he said again when he realized she had no intention of stopping until the garment was completely undone. “What are you doing?”

“It’s hot in here,” she said, jerking her shirttail from the waistband of her skirt. “The thermostat must be set up too high. Don’t you feel hot?”

Hell, yes, he felt hot. But it wasn’t because of the room’s thermostat. That was for damn sure.

“Becca?” he said once more. “What are you doing?”

“I need to cool off,” she told him.

Oh, and like he didn’t?

She shrugged completely out of her shirt and tossed it to the side without even looking to see where it landed. “You don’t mind, do you?” she asked belatedly. “I mean, we know each other well enough that we can take off our shirts in front of each other, right? It’s no big deal.”

Actually, it wasn’t a deal Turner was worried about getting big. “Uh…” he began eloquently.

Words deserted him after that, though, because he was way too busy appreciating the view. The bra he’d glimpsed beneath Becca’s blouse was indeed fashioned of filmy lace, nearly the same color as her soft skin, but that was about all it was fashioned of. Meaning it was translucent, and he could easily distinguish the dark circles of her nipples and aureolas beneath it. Her breasts surged against the taut fabric, spilling from the top in a way that made him want to fill his hands with them, then lean forward and run the tip of his tongue along the smooth flesh where it joined with lace. It was only through some incredible miracle of restraint that he kept himself from doing just that.

“In fact,” he heard Becca say from a million miles away, “if you want to take off your shirt, too, I wouldn’t mind. You must be feeling as hot as I am.”

Oh, that was the understatement of the millennium. Although he had no idea why he answered the way he did, he told her, “No, uh, that’s—that’s okay. I’m, um, I’m comfortable.” He was also lying through his teeth, since the bulge in his pants was making him just the opposite. But she didn’t need to know that.

She scooted forward on his lap and wiggled her ass against that part of him. Oh. Okay. So evidently she already knew it.

“You don’t feel like you’re comfortable,” she said as pushed herself forward more, an action that sent her skirt riding even higher on her thighs. “And I’m not comfortable, either,” she added as she looped her arms around his neck. “But I know how we can fix that for both of us.”

And then, before he could object, she slanted her mouth over his, treating him to the sort of kiss he’d only fantasized about before, wet and deep and long. She thrust her tongue into his mouth and rocked her entire body against his. And instinctively, enthusiastically, Turner wrapped his arms around her waist and returned fire.

Heat. That was all he registered after that. Heat in his mouth, in his belly, in his hands, in his pants. Becca was hot all over, and so was he, and if he didn’t do something to cool them off fast, they were going to spontaneously combust. And as often as he’d thought about combusting with Becca right in this very cubicle, he really didn’t think the office was the best place for that. Englund did have a no-smoking policy, after all.

And Turner would remind her of that, too. He would. In just a minute. Maybe two. Okay, five, but no more than that. But she chose that moment to push herself up on tiptoe and surge forward again, lowering herself onto his now rock-hard dick. And she punctuated the action with an erotic little whimper of surrender that made Turner come completely undone.

Unable to help himself, he jerked his mouth from hers and dragged a long line of openmouthed kisses down the column of her neck, tasting the little hollow at the base of her throat. Then he dipped his head lower, rubbing his lips over the soft mound of one breast, before flattening his tongue against her nipple, over the scant covering