in my life, I could have something I wanted. I could have Wes. Without thinking and without complications. I could just enjoy myself.
It seemed that he had the same idea. He started the SUV and blasted the heater. Pulling out of the parking garage, he said, “We’re going to my place.”
“Is that where we’re playing hooky from work?”
“Yes. It is.”
Now my whole body started to hum—in excitement, anticipation, and just plain horniness. I’d never in my life ditched work for sex, or honestly for anything, before. I made myself ask the question in case I was misreading the entire situation. “You mean for a quickie?”
Oh God, that was embarrassing. My voice, already high-pitched and a little loud, went all the way up at the end, as if I was screeching the question. I sounded pathetic, like a woman who has never said the word “quickie” out loud before. Get a grip, Penny!
But Wes just grinned, that gorgeous grin that melted my knees. “I’m not sure how quick I’ll be.” He picked up my hand where it rested between us and linked his fingers with mine, then raised the back of my hand to his mouth and kissed it while he drove. “You said you wanted me to make it up to you.”
It was a good thing I was sitting down, because my knees were definitely melting. “I accept.”
“Good.” He pulled his phone from the breast pocket of his jacket—he was wearing one of his sexy suits, which he always wore at work—and swiped it awake, handing it to me. “Text Rhonda for me and tell her we’re taking a lunch break. We’ll be at my place in five minutes.”
I took his phone, writing: Rhonda. Out for lunch with Penelope. Might run long. Hold all my calls except for emergencies. Feel free to take a long lunch yourself. Wesley. I read it over, thinking it looked pretty convincing, and then I tapped Send.
I was doing it: playing hooky from work (where I was the CEO!) to have sex with a gorgeous man in the middle of the day. Fibbing about it, even. I felt like the sexiest and most scandalous woman alive. Did other people do things like this all the time? No wonder it had always felt like everyone was having more fun than me.
When Wes pulled into his driveway, he got out and rushed to his front door, unlocking it so we could both make a mad dash into the house. My feet crunched on the dusting of snow on his walk and our breath frosted in the air, but we made it inside before we got cold.
As soon as the front door closed behind us, he kissed me. His hands cupping my face, his mouth taking mine deeply, his scent and his taste everywhere. I slid my hands under his suit jacket and let them explore his torso through the fabric of his dress shirt. He nipped at my bottom lip and I felt my entire body go hot and hazy.
“Upstairs,” he gasped when he broke the kiss, tugging me toward the staircase. The house was quiet around us, the sun filtering brightly through the windows. The entire street was quiet, with everyone gone to work. I felt like we were the only two people who existed right now, taking our dirty pleasure break while the rest of the world went about its boring daily business. I kicked off my shoes and followed Wes upstairs.
In the upstairs hall we kissed again, and this time I pushed his jacket off, letting it fall to the floor. He unbuttoned the front of my blouse and cupped my breasts through my practical bra, making my skin spark. I was suddenly desperate for him, all of him. I didn’t want to go halfway this time.
We made our tangled way into his bedroom and he tossed me onto the bed without a word, bracing himself over me and kissing me again. My pencil skirt was too confining—I wanted to wrap my legs around him. I squirmed, trying to undo the side button and push down the zipper at my hip.
Wes kissed his way down my chest where my blouse hung open, his warm mouth tasting every part of my skin. My glasses were askew, so I took them off and put them on the nightstand before wrestling with my skirt again. The simple operation of getting it off seemed impossible when his mouth was doing those things to me. I couldn’t think.
He took