Irresistibly Yours (Oxford #1)(47)

Cole ignored him, storming toward his office and hoping more than he should that Penelope would follow.

“I’m really sorry we didn’t wait for you,” Penelope said as she came into his office.

Cole shut the door without replying.

She touched his arm. “Hey, are you okay?”

He frowned at the question. Cole Sharpe was always okay. Cole Sharpe was the one who made everyone else laugh, who put everyone at ease, who always had the quick comeback and the ready smile.

But sometimes…sometimes, he wanted to lean.

Just a little. Or, at the very least, to simply be, without always having a quip at the ready. And when she was looking at him with those damn big eyes, all wide and compassionate, and hell, caring, he wanted to lean on her.

“Cole?”

“Fuck it,” he muttered.

His hands wrapped around Penelope’s arms and he jerked her toward him and claimed her mouth.

It was a graceless, hungry kiss. It had none of his usual finesse, but he needed it. Needed her.

He was so lost in the taste of her that it took him a moment to realize she’d gone still against him.

He pulled back slightly and gave her a questioning glance.

“Cole, you know the rules,” she said, her eyes locked on his mouth. “No blending work and pleasure, no sex on weekdays—”

He dropped his hands from her arms, releasing her, but he didn’t step back. There were mere inches separating them, and he wondered if she felt the heat between them as acutely as he did.

How had this happened? How was it that this sweet, feisty tomboy could turn him on just as easily as she turned him completely inside out every time she looked at him?

“Come on, Cole. Don’t do this.” Her voice was a whisper now.

His hands itched to reach for her again, but he forced himself to stay. To wait.

He grinned in triumph as she shrugged slightly, letting her purse fall to the floor with a quiet thump as her arms lifted to wind around his neck.

Their lips collided as they devoured each other.

Was it possible it had only been three and a half days since he’d last tasted her lips? Since he’d last run his hands over her lithe body?

It felt like forever.

He wrapped his fingers low on her hips, holding her snugly against his already hard cock as her hands roamed restlessly over his back.

“I hate this suit jacket,” she said with a little gasp, when he pulled back and bent his knees slightly to get at her neck. “I mean, I usually like it, because you look all corporate and yummy, but it’s in my way, and I can’t touch you.”

“How do you think I feel about all your clothes?” he muttered.

She was wearing a short-sleeved purple top with just the slightest V-neck. His mouth forged a trail downward until he could lick just under the fabric of her shirt, tasting the sweet upper curves of her breasts.

She made a breathy, sighing noise. “We really shouldn’t. We’re at work, and anyone could walk in.”

“First of all,” he said, kissing his way back up her neck, “don’t think for one second that we’re the first ones. Jake closes his office door every time his wife ‘brings him lunch’ and her hair is never quite as neat when she comes out. And I have it on good authority that the boss has gotten lucky in his office once or twice.”

She pulled back. “Cassidy? No. He wouldn’t. Sex in his office, really? He’s so controlled.”

“Not around Emma he’s not,” Cole said confidently, pulling her back in for a long, wet kiss.

“What’s the ‘second of all’?” Penelope asked, when they parted to breathe.

“Hmm?” Cole asked, his hands sliding up, inching ever closer to her breasts.

“Well, you said ‘first of all.’ That implies there’s something else.”

“Ah, right.” He stepped nearer, backing Penelope against the door. “Second of all, there’s a lock on the door.”

They both watched as his hand slid down, twisting the lock with a quick flick of his fingers.

And then she launched herself at him, all but climbing up his body, trying to reach his mouth.

He laughed a little, scooting his hands under her ass and pulling her up as he sandwiched her body between the door and his body as they kissed.

Cole barely registered the sound of one of her shoes falling off and hitting the floor when she wrapped her legs around his waist. He was too busy touching her. Tasting her.

Wanting her.

Finally he couldn’t take it anymore. He needed her naked. Now.

He stepped back, and she made a mewling sound of protest as he set her back on the floor.

Cole locked his eyes on hers as he slowly lifted her shirt over her head. Her bra was pink and lacy. Pretty, but he was far more interested in what lay beneath, and he sent the bra in the same direction as her shirt: off.

“Cole,” she whispered, clearly embarrassed. She lifted her hands to cover herself, but he batted her hands aside. If anyone was going to put hands on her breasts, it was going to be him.

He rubbed the heels of his palms against her, his cock going even harder when she cried out. He’d never been with a woman this responsive. And suddenly he wanted to know if she was always this way, or if it was just with him.

He hoped to God it was the latter.