Misconduct(56)

Instead, she walked over to the coffee-colored leather sofa and picked up the black pin-striped suit jacket I’d left there days ago, when I’d come home from work. With her back to me, she slipped my T-shirt over her head, dropping it to the floor, and brought my jacket up to her front, covering herself.

Every inch of me felt like I’d climbed into a hot, soothing bath, but my racing heart was anything but soothed. I fisted my fingers, seeing her long, naked back, smooth and toned, and I wanted to touch every part of her, including that perfect, heart-shaped ass she was flashing me.

Lying down on the sofa, she spread my jacket over her naked body, one hand rubbing the fabric over the inside of her thigh while the other slipped underneath the jacket.

My breath caught, seeing her fingers move under the coat, while she rubbed my jacket over her *, rolling her hips into the cloth.

Before I’m done. She was masturbating.

“Oh, you f*cking bitch,” I whispered, meeting her heated eyes.

She blinked, and I expected to see her looking amused and playful, but she looked beautifully desperate.

“It has your smell on it.” She ground my jacket between her legs, closing her eyes and arching her neck back.

The jacket covered her as if I were wearing it and lying on top of her, from the neck to the tops of her thighs. Her legs were bent at the knees, and the bottoms of her feet were touching, making a diamond shape. That hand that I was so jealous of played slowly and softly, judging from the little movements under the jacket.

The idea of my clothes on her naked body was driving me f*cking insane.

My jeans were tight, and the ache between my legs was growing.

“That’s a two-thousand-dollar suit,” I pointed out, trying to sound unaffected.

She dragged her bottom lip between her teeth, groaning as she clutched the fabric resting between her legs. “Worth every penny,” she taunted. “God, it feels like you.”

The corner of my lips turned up. I loved the idea of showing her that I felt a hell of a lot better than some piece of cloth she was dry f*cking.

“Move the jacket,” I told her.

She opened her eyes and peered over at me, a rose-tinged blush falling across her cheeks.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Her body shifted and squirmed under the jacket as she continued fingering herself. “It’ll distract you.”

“Move the f*cking jacket, Easton.”

A smile flashed across her eyes, and she slid the jacket off her body, letting it fall to the floor.

Jesus.

I tipped my chin at her. “Drop your foot to the ground and open your legs wider.”

She did it, letting her right foot rest on the hardwood floor and spreading her thighs wide. My view was perfect.

She grazed her clit with her middle finger, rubbing over it and playing as she watched me.

“You better get typing,” she teased, tapping her clit three times. “Type, type, type…” she taunted.

I scowled, ducking my head and typing furiously and then punching the backspace button fifteen times because of all the mistakes I was making.

I tried not to look at her, but it was like she was the only thing in the room, completely dominating my senses. I kept typing, but I would blink and dart my gaze over to see her rubbing her hard little nub in circles faster and faster. The flesh was dark pink, and I couldn’t stop wishing my mouth was buried in it.

I finished the e-mail, clicked Send, and double-clicked on another one. Some VP in the South American office whining about delayed production on the new line of equipment.

Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Get it done.

I didn’t really say that. Only the last part, but…

Her little moans carried across the room and vibrated over my skin, and I groaned, feeling my dick grow steel-rod straight. She wasn’t loud or exaggerated, and that made it hotter, because it was real.

I clicked Send, and then I opened up another e-mail. “Don’t come,” I ordered, looking up to check on her.

Her left hand was gripping the back of the sofa next to her, and her head was up, so she could watch her fingers move softly in and out. Her mouth was open, and her face looked pained as she let out little cries.

Shit.

I typed faster.

“I wish you were here,” she breathed out, teasing me. “Your kisses drive me crazy, so I wonder what your tongue would feel like between my legs.”

I grunted, shifting in my seat, and clicked Send, opening up another e-mail.

“God, I can see your cock through your pants,” she mewed. “It’s making my mouth water, baby.”

I blinked long and hard.

Type, type, type… My fingers worked hard, making constant mistakes, but I kept my head down, scowling, every muscle in my face as hard as iron.

Open, type, send, open, type, send… I grunted, shifting in my seat, her little moans getting higher and higher and making my body ache like hell.

“Please tell me I can have it,” she begged. “Please.”

“Are you trying to make me come?” I growled. “You said I had to finish ‘before you were done,’ so masturbate and shut up. I can’t concentrate with that talk.”

I opened another e-mail – only two left – but then I heard her small, taunting voice, sounding innocent.

“Yes, Mr. Marek.”