Office Grump An Enemies to Lovers Romance - Nicole Snow Page 0,114
desperately close to the edge and trying to hang on, eager to steal a third bruising climax out of her.
Her body clenches around me, and she’s panting, scratching my neck and shoulders raw with her nails.
Keep it coming, kitten.
I’m not even that big a freak, but I’m so fucking gone for this woman, I don’t mind it one bit if she hurts me, if she scratches ribbons down my back as long as I’m exploding inside her so hard I see her eyes go white.
Thank fuck I’ve made my peace with it because I can’t hold back any longer.
Not when her hot cunt contracts a third time, wrapping around me like a puckered mouth, demanding every drop of heat and life and rage from my balls.
I explode inside her with a vicious grunt.
My spine turns into a fuse, and when the hellfire in my swollen dick hits my brain, I’m on a new high I never thought possible.
Of course, she’s right there with me.
Flinging herself up and down on me, over and over, stealing my heat, two warring storms of release like clashing lightning.
I can’t even remember what the hell I am by the time I shove her face into the nook of my neck, and we’re both gasping for dear life.
Once I catch my breath, I roll us onto our sides, flop down on the bed, and cradle her against me.
“One fine day, I’ll take you where I want to most,” I tell her.
“Oh? And where might that be?” Her curious little smile slays me.
“My desk. I might have to see if the insurance policy covers total loss by hurricane-force fuckery, but...”
She bursts out laughing, silencing my insanity with more sticky kisses.
We fall asleep together, drained and content.
I can’t remember the last time I slept with a woman in my arms.
Likely because it never happened.
A noise like a distant waterfall pulls me from a dead sleep. Brina steps out of my bathroom at four thirty sharp. She searches my floor for her clothes and starts getting dressed.
I stare at her perfect form.
“Go in later,” I say, still drugged with sleep. “And I’m getting you more clothes for here, dammit.”
“Can’t,” she says. “Airline pre-pitch meeting is this week, and I have to make you look good.”
I chuckle and swat at her cute little ass, missing in my groggy state.
“I admire your dedication, but you’ll be fine.”
“Maybe so, but what about Hugo and Dave from Sales?” She’s in her panties and bra, pulling her shirt on now. “Hey, you didn’t call Armstrong yet, did you? I think I want to Uber today.”
“No. I don’t like the idea of you in a car with a driver we don’t know,” I say. “It hasn’t been a week since Marissa was attacked.”
She pulls her skirt up.
“Marissa’s attack has nothing to do with me.” She bites her lip and sighs. “I’m—I don’t want Armstrong thinking I’m spending every night here.”
Her words hit me like cold water.
Shit. What will the others think when they catch wind of us? But I knew playing with fire only ends one way...
“Don’t worry. He won’t talk.”
She frowns at me. “I don’t think he would, but he’ll think I’m—”
“He doesn’t think shit, woman. He thinks you’re helping take care of Jordan because I told you to. And he’s right. Without you, the boy would still be starving on the couch.”
She smiles and walks over to the bed. She leans down and kisses me, this chaste peck that still makes me rock-hard.
I pull her back into bed with me and close my arms around her. “You’re waiting right here until Armstrong calls.”
“Joy. Lucky for you, there’s no place I’d rather be,” she says, smiling in the darkness.
I like the sound of that.
My throat tightens, and I wonder if she really is an angel disguised as my EA, and now something more.
I say nothing because I won’t have her thinking I’m a raving lunatic.
Instead, I just kiss her forehead, relishing every breath of this maddening woman I get.
Jordan hops out of the car, grabs his backpack—something he only has because Sabrina thought to tell Armstrong to fetch it from home—and scurries toward the academy’s column-flanked entrance.
I watch him disappear through the double doors.
“Take me to the office,” I say. “I can’t waste a whole day without making an appearance.”
“You’re the boss,” Armstrong says with a wink in the mirror. “I wondered when you were going back to the captain’s seat. Everything okay, Mr. Heron?”
“Yeah. But playing daddy—” I stop, frowning. I don’t like