Rascal (Rascals Book 1)(67)

I spun on my stool to find Emerson standing there, looking as cozy and gorgeous as always in a soft plaid shirt and well-worn jeans. My mouth watered just looking at him. I was a lucky woman.

“Excuse me.” Chase took offense, putting his hand against his chest. “I’m pretty sure she’s too good for you too.”

Emerson laughed. “Oh, I know she is.”

“Boys, boys.” I held up my hand. “You can both buy me drinks.”

“You’re already drinking us out of house and home,” Chase teased. “I’ll have to cut you off at some point.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” I clutched my wine glass to my chest. “I need this to survive this.” I pointed at the stack of briefs on the bar.

Emerson winced at the sight of them. “Long night ahead?” he asked sympathetically.

“Shouldn’t be too bad,” I told him. “But I wanted to make sure I saw you for a little bit.”

I slipped my fingers into his belt loop and pulled him close for a kiss. He kissed me deeply. So deeply that people at the bar began to hoot and holler.

“Get a room,” Chase ordered.

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Emerson said, pulling me off the stool and slipping his hand into mine. “Do you have time for a break?” he asked, his voice low and sexy.

“Always,” I told him, my skin already tingling.

We hurried to his office, kissing before he had even shut and locked the door.

“I missed you,” he told me, pulling my jacket off.

“You just saw me this morning,” I reminded him, though I felt the same way. It felt like we had been a part for ages.

I yanked his shirt up over his head, desperate to feel his bare skin beneath my palms. I dragged my hand down his stomach, finding the buckle of his belt and making quick work of his jeans, which I shoved down past his hips.

He slipped a hand underneath my skirt, his fingers sliding up my thigh and finding my center, where I was already wet and ready for him.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” he told me, his mouth against mine.

“Hurry,” I urged him, wanting him to be inside of me. Now.

He didn’t hesitate, grabbing a condom from his pocket and sheathing himself in latex. Then, with one, smooth thrust, he was inside of me.

My head fell back as he began to move. It felt so good. He felt so good. And I was starting to realize I’d never be able to get enough of him. He gripped my hips as he thrust into me, going deeper and deeper as I wrapped my legs around his waist, urging him to speed up. I was already so close, and then he slipped his hand down between my legs and found my clit. I came immediately, my cries swallowed by his mouth as he thrusted once more and then found his own release.

I held him in my arms, never wanting to let him go.

“God, you drive me to distraction,” he finally said, pressing his forehead against mine.

“Good,” I said with a smile. “I’d hate to be the only one in this boat.”

We kissed as we separated, taking our time as we pulled ourselves together. I knew Chase would make a big embarrassing scene when we returned as he always did—and we kind of deserved it, slipping off to the back office as often as we did—and I liked having a few more moments of privacy with Emerson.

“How was work?” he asked as he pulled his jeans back on.

“Good.” I told him about my lunch with Arthur as I buttoned my blouse. At least this one still had buttons on it. I couldn’t say the same for all of my shirts after they’d come into contact with Emerson and his eager hands.

“Sounds like you’re making quite a name for yourself there,” he observed. “Shouldn’t be long until you’re up for partner.”

I slapped his arm. “It’s a little early to be thinking about that,” I told him, even though I had been dreaming about the same thing now that my first goal had proven to be attainable.

Why not continue to reach for the stars? Especially when I had such a wonderful and understanding boyfriend who provided me with booze and grilled cheese sandwiches.

“Never too early to be making plans,” Emerson told me with a big smile on his face. “Speaking of which, I’ve been doing some thinking.”

He sat down in his desk chair and pulled me into his lap. I wasn’t exactly sure where this conversation was going, but it sounded promising.

“Your living upstairs from the bar has proven to be quite convenient for both of us,” he observed.

“Especially when having sex on your desk results in me getting office supplies stuck to my butt,” I told him.

“I thought you liked that,” he quipped before continuing. “But as nice as it is to have your place so close to the bar, I know that it’s not always the best place to get work done. Especially since your neighbors are such loud jerks.”

“They are quite inconsiderate,” I teased. “But they ply me with free alcohol so I can’t complain.”

“True,” Emerson agreed, but h had opened his desk drawer and was rooting around in it, clearly looking for something. “But I was wondering if you might consider giving up that apartment and relocating.” He pulled out a set of keys. “To my place.”

He dropped the keys into my open palm, and all I could do was stare at them.