Beautiful Bastard(8)

“Make a note to order another pair then,” I hissed and then pressed my tongue between her lips and into her mouth.

She groaned deeply as I thrust two fingers inside of her, and if it was possible, she was even wetter than she’d been last night. Seriously f*cked-up situation we have going on here. She broke away from my lips with a gasp as I f*cked her hard with my fingers, my thumb rubbing vigorous circles on her clit.

“Get your cock out,” she said. “I need to feel you in me. Now.”

I narrowed my eyes at her, trying to hide the effect her words had on me.

“Say please, Miss Mills.”

“Now,” she said more urgently.

“Bossy much?”

She gave me a look that would shrivel the dick off a lesser man and I laughed in spite of myself. Mills could hold her own. “Good thing I’m feeling generous.”

I made quick work of my belt and pants before lifting her up and thrusting hard inside her. Christ, she felt amazing. Better than anything. It helped explain why I couldn’t get her out of my head, and a small voice told me I might never get enough of this.

“Damn,” I mumbled.

She gasped and I felt her clench around me, her breath ragged. She bit into the shoulder of my jacket and wrapped her leg around me as I began moving into her hard and fast against the wall. Any moment someone could enter the stairwell and catch me f*cking her, and I couldn’t care less. I needed to get her out of my system.

She lifted her head from my shoulder and bit her way up my neck before taking my bottom lip between her teeth.

“Close,” she growled and tightened her leg around me to pull me deeper. “I’m close.”

Perfect.

I buried my face in her neck and hair to muffle the groan as I came hard and suddenly inside her, squeezing her ass in my hands. Pulling out before she could rub herself against me anymore, I put her down on unsteady legs.

She gaped at me, her look thunderous. The stairwell filled with a leaden silence.

“Really?” she said, exhaling loudly. Her head fell back against the wall with a dull thud.

“Thanks, that was fantastic.” I found my pants down around my knees.

“You’re an *.”

“You’ve mentioned this,” I murmured, looking down as I pulled up my zipper.

When I looked back up, she had straightened her dress, but she still looked beautifully disheveled, and part of me ached to reach forward and slide my hand against her, to make her come. But a larger part of me relished the angry dissatisfaction in her eyes. “What goes around comes around, so to speak.”

“It’s too bad you’re such a horrible lay,” she replied calmly. She turned to continue down the stairs but stopped abruptly, spinning back to meet my eye. “And it’s a good thing I’m on the pill. Thanks for asking, *.”

I watched her disappear out of sight down the stairs and growled as I walked back to my office. I landed in my chair with a loud huff, raking my hands through my hair before removing her destroyed panties from my pocket. I stared at the white silk fabric between my fingers for a moment, then opened my desk drawer and dropped them in to join the pair from last night.





Three


How the hell I made it down those stairs without killing myself is beyond me. I ran out of there like I was on fire, leaving Mr. Ryan alone in the stairwell slack jawed, clothes askew, and hair standing on end like he’d been molested.

Blowing past the café on fourteen, and clearing the final floor landing in a leap—no easy task in these shoes—I pushed open the metal door and leaned against the wall, panting.

What just happened? Did I just f*ck my boss on the stairs? I gasped and my hands flew over my mouth. Did I order him to? Oh, Jesus. What the hell was wrong with me?

Dazed, I stumbled away from the wall and up a few flights into the closest restroom. I did a quick check under all the stalls to make sure they were empty and then turned the lock on the main door. As I approached the bathroom mirror, I winced. I looked like I’d been ridden hard and put out to dry.

My hair was a nightmare. All my carefully styled waves were now a mass of wild tangles. Apparently Mr. Ryan liked my hair down. I’d have to remember that.

Wait. What? Where the hell did that come from? I most certainly would not remember that. I slammed my fist on the counter and moved closer to inspect the damage.

My lips were swollen, my makeup smudged; my dress was stretched out and practically hanging on me, and I was once again missing my panties.