Misadventures with the Boss (Misadventures #12)(11)

“You like that, baby,” I murmured before taking her other nipple into my mouth and rolling the tip of my tongue around its peak. “Show me how much you like it.”

Hell, did she ever. With her arms still circling my neck, she threw back her head and rolled her hips, taking just my throbbing head inside her as she dipped in short bursts and then longer, needier strokes, pounding over me. Slamming her hips down onto mine with a resounding slap. She was losing control—and fast. I gripped her ass, feeling the drag of her flesh against mine as she worked my shaft with her pussy.

“That’s it, baby,” I murmured, my voice husky with the need to come. “Let me feel you come again.”

My balls drew up, but I closed my eyes, sucking her nipple still harder and willing myself to hold out for her. Her walls quaked and shuddered, and then I couldn’t take it anymore. Grasping her hips firmly, I guided her up and down, impaling her with my cock in powerful thrusts until I was so deep inside her she ground out my name.

“Jackson, yes, Jackson, I’m going to—” Her words broke off, and she shook in my arms, her mouth falling open as she squeezed around me so tightly I couldn’t hold back anymore. I slammed her hips down on mine again as we came together in greedy, gasping thrusts. Hot liquid spurted forward in a rush as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over me.

It was, hands down, the hottest sex of my life, and when she finally rolled from on top of me, I pulled off the condom with a sudden rush of disappointment. Not because the sex hadn’t been amazing.

It had.

It had been so mind-blowing that I was already wishing we’d taken it slower or could do it again. But she was already standing on shaking legs, gathering up her clothes, and getting ready to go.

It should’ve made me happy. Hell, this was living the dream. Hook up with superhot funny girl. Have the best sex of my life. Walk away, no hard feelings, no strings, no drama, no bullshit.

Instead, I was actively resisting the urge to drag her back down on top of me and ask if she wanted to stay.

Amateur move, man, and you know it.

That kind of shit was what got a guy like me saddled with a woman who thought she was your girlfriend and tried to get you to go to her sister’s wedding with her.

Not Piper, though. She was already dressed and slipping on her shoes.

“I… I should go. I’m just gonna get an Uber back to my car. But that was…um, thank you. That was exactly what the doctor ordered,” she murmured, her cheeks a charming shade of pink.

She might look innocent, but this was a girl who knew the drill.

Perfect.

So why did part of me wonder why she was so eager to get away?





Chapter Five





Piper





I had laid out my outfit the night before. Every last detail—my makeup, my jewelry—had all been planned to a T.

So why, then, did it all suddenly feel so wrong?

I stared into the mirror, wondering if the deep-crimson dress I wore hugged my curves a little too tightly or if the particular shade clashed with my auburn-colored hair. I’d opted for my glasses instead of contacts, and the thick, black frames I thought looked smart and trendy at the store now made me wonder if I looked more like Drew Carey than a sharp, capable professional.

Which, of course, was fine either way. I was going in for my first day of work, not planning a date.

My thoughts turned to my scorching-hot hookup from this past weekend.

And, damn, had it been hot.

Even now, when I should have been focusing on making a good impression and getting myself together, I found my mind drifting back to that night. No man had ever spoken to me that way—like I was the most desirable woman in the world. And the way he’d taken control of my body…like he knew better than I did how to make me feel good.

A shudder went through me, and I could feel my nipples go tight.

Shaking my head, I quickly yanked the red dress over my head and opted instead for the pair of nondescript black slacks on another hanger in front of me, pairing it with a sensible, white button-down shirt. I hooked my finger under the collar of a short, black jacket to match and called it good. True, the outfit made me look like a waiter, but it was just standard enough to be completely unnoticeable.

Perfect, polished, and professional. Just like I wanted to be.

Certainly nothing like the cheeky little tramp from the other night. My cheeks flushed again, and I forced thoughts of Jackson out of my mind one last time. It wasn’t like I’d ever see him again, so what was the point in obsessing about it?

With a deep breath, I checked the time and grabbed my purse from the table by the door before making my way out of my apartment and onto the busy city street. My apartment was in the business district, not far from my new office building, so walking it was a nice way to take in the beautiful spring weather. Less nice was the constant swarm of perpetually irritated, stressed-out people who raced around the streets in this part of the city during the early morning rush, but I was nothing if not adaptable.

I pulled my planner from the front pocket of my purse, glanced down at the address again, and turned the corner with my head held high. Here, in this sea of busy-looking people, I wanted to feel like I fit in. To feel like I was ready to start a career as the right-hand woman to one of the most successful real estate moguls in the city.

I was cool and confident and strong. I was even the kind of woman who could have a random fling with a guy and head into work on Monday with a clear head.