Those Three Words: A Single Dad, Billionaire Boss Romance(76)

It feels like there’s a vise around my heart, squeezing it so tight.

“Do you miss her?”

He nods. “I do. I miss seeing her with Eleanor. It kills me that she won’t get to see her little girl grow up. I’ve processed my grief though. I did have some unhealthy reactions to it, I won’t lie. You know that already. I avoided Eleanor for some time because every time I looked at her, I was reminded of Meredith, of her not getting to raise her. I felt guilt that I still got to do that.”

He stands, placing his glass on the small table next to the chair, and walks up next to me, his chest partially against my back.

“I can’t express to you how sorry I am, Margot. I hate that I’ve hurt you and made you doubt your faith in me not only as a partner but as a friend and a person. I—I hoped things would work out so differently with us. I had hoped you were my future, that you were Eleanor’s future.”

I lean my head forward, pressing it against the cool glass. I feel him step closer, his hand reaching out to brush my hair away from my neck. He leans down, his warm breath coming out in puffs against my skin.

“Do you ever think about that night on my desk?”

I nod my head.

“Me too. I think about it too, probably too much. All those little looks you mentioned I give you? I’m remembering that moment, Margot. I’m remembering the way your body trembled beneath my tongue. The way your taste filled my mouth.”

My entire body is burning with desire. My heart is telling me to just tell him how I feel. To fix it and make it work.

I spin around to face him, placing my hands on his chest.

“What did you do with my panties?”

He gets a devilish grin and walks over to his desk, leaning down to open a drawer. He reaches inside and produces the panties, holding them up so I can see them.

I watch as he brings them to his nose, closing his eyes and inhaling.

Holy shit. I clench my thighs tighter.

“Do they still smell like me?”

“A little.”

I feel a sudden surge of confidence soar through me and I capitalize on it, maintaining eye contact with him as I slowly walk toward his desk. I lift myself, sliding my backside onto his desk. His lips part in anticipation as I slowly spread my thighs open and lift my skirt.

I watch as he grips the panties in his hands, slowly sliding down into his seat. He reaches his other hand forward, but I smack it away, shaking my head.

I pull my skirt all the way up to my waist as I lean back on one hand, the other dragging down my body and into my panties. I close my eyes and allow myself to get lost in the moment as I begin to explore my womanhood.

I tease myself. Running my fingers through my wet folds and around my sensitive nub. I don’t hold back. I moan and bite my bottom lip, letting myself enjoy every second of this, not questioning what will happen after or tomorrow or next week.

I can feel my wetness soaking my panties as I slide my fingers inside. I thrust over and over again, bringing them out to play with my clit before delving them back inside. My release builds. My thighs tremble and shake as I fall over the edge, my orgasm shooting through my body to my toes as I come undone.

Graham is gripping the armrest of his chair so hard his knuckles are white. His jaw is clenched and tight and the tenting in his pants tells me he’s just as excited as I am.

I remove myself from the desk, reaching beneath my skirt to wipe myself with my panties before sliding them down my legs and bending to pick them up.

Without a word, I drop them in his lap and exit the office.





26





GRAHAM





Four days…

I stare at the ceiling in my bedroom as rain taps against the glass of the window. It’s soothing but it’s no use, I can’t sleep.

I sit up and lean forward, scrubbing my hands over my face, debating if I should take another shower to help me relax. I glance over at the clock on the nightstand: 1:23 a.m.

I pull on my pajama pants and trudge downstairs, opting to bury my feelings in Oreos. I think I saw a pack in the pantry yesterday.

I flick on the light above the stove and open the pantry door.

“Can’t sleep either?”

I spin around to see Margot sitting at the kitchen island, a mug of tea in her hands.

“Thought I might drown my sorrows in Oreos. Want some?”

She nods and pats the stool next to her. I reach inside and grab the package, bringing it over to where she’s seated.

We both take a cookie. I watch as she splits it in two, eating the plain cookie first before scraping the cream off the other with her teeth. She then proceeds to eat that cookie as well.

“That’s an interesting method.”

“What’s yours?”

I too split the cookie in half. “I eat the naked one first and then”—I pause as I pop it into my mouth and chew—“I eat the other one, with the cream still on it.”

“Isn’t that what I did?” she asks.

“Close but you ate the cream alone.”

She shrugs. “Guess I don’t even pay attention to how I eat Oreos.”

Silence settles between us as we each eat another cookie.

“I want to tell you something.” She turns in her stool, angling her body to face me. “You opened up to me about you and your wife the other day and I appreciated that.”