Michelle was nowhere to be seen to take that edge off.
He fired up the computer screen when his office phone beeped with the receptionist. He stabbed the answer button. “Hey, Christine. How are you?”
“Good afternoon, Mr. Sullivan. There is someone here for you with a delivery from the library. She wants me to send her back,” the receptionist said, lowering her voice.
“The library?”
“She said you ordered some books for personal delivery,” Christine said, sounding thoroughly flummoxed. He was, too. Until, some neuron fired and he had the sneaking suspicion the edge was about to come off. “Send her back,” he said, and then hung up as his cell phone rattled once more.
M: I hope it’s not work that involves other people.
J: Why not?
M: Because I wouldn’t want them to see what I’m about to do to you.
CHAPTER TEN
It is Certain
“Come in,” he said, as the brown door slowly opened.
The first thing he saw was a pair of strong legs. Then, black pumps, with a strap across the top of her feet. Then the owner of those gorgeous legs stepped inside, and he dropped the paper in his hand.
Holy sex of his fantasies.
He raked his eyes up and down, not even sure where to stop or where to linger because the whole package was a dream. Bare legs, black pencil skirt, tight as sin, her gorgeous brown hair pinned up on her head. Then there were the glasses.
Sexy cat’s eye glasses.
Peering over the top of them seductively, she shrugged off the black belted jacket she wore, tossing it on the purple couch. She had on a white blouse, unbuttoned to her cleavage. In her hand, she held a library book. She thumped it against her palm and gave him a stern look as she shut the door. “I believe you have some overdue library books, Mr. Library Patron.”
“Is that so? What sort of fines am I looking at?” He licked his lips, never once taking his eyes off the stunning woman who owned this moment as she walked across the carpet in his office as if she'd been designed for this kind of play. She made her way to his desk, and hopped up on the corner of it.
“You could be looking at some hard time,” she said, her eyes twinkling with naughtiness, her voice laced with innuendo. God, her mouth looked superb as she said hard. Her perfect red lips were so fuckable.
His gaze dropped to his hard-on, tenting his pants. Her eyes followed his. “Very hard time,” she added, as she crossed those legs that he wanted to lick from her ankles all the way up. He could spend all day between her legs.
“Would you like to collect that overdue fine?”
“I might,” she said, leaving the book on his desk, then removing something from the breast pocket of her blouse. Lipstick. She opened the tube, and slicked some across her lips, turning them redder. He hissed in a breath at the sight in front of him. Michelle. Perched on his desk. Applying lipstick. He wanted to pin her down and ravage his sexy librarian.
But he knew how to read women. And he knew this woman was running the show right now. This was her surprise for him, and hell if he was going to do a damn thing right now but take whatever she wanted to give. He only hoped she’d be giving it to him soon, because all the blood in his body had rushed to one organ. His cock throbbed.
She tucked the lipstick between her breasts, and he groaned.
“I’m jealous of your lipstick,” he said, his eyes straying longingly to her shirt. “Why don’t you unbutton that shirt a bit and let me see your tits?”
“You should be very jealous of my lipstick,” she said, raising one hand to deftly undo a few buttons, exposing the swell of her full breasts.
A low rumble worked its way up his chest. “Let me suck on them.”
She shook her head, and wagged a finger. “No. That won’t pay the fine on your overdue books.”
“What will then?” he asked, his fingers gripping the arms of his chair.
In a blur, she dropped to her knees, and he was ready to sing halle-fucking-lujah. Michelle on her knees was his perfect Friday afternoon.
“Do you like payback, Jack?” she asked with a perfect pout on her cherry-red lips, her quick hands reaching for his fly, and mercifully unzipping it.
“If it involves your lips wrapped around my dick, then I do,” he said.
“You came into my office and had your way with me in my chair. Now it’s my turn to finish you off,” she said, and quickly tugged down his briefs.
His cock sprang free, and she wrapped her hand around him.
“Fuck,” he hissed out, that first touch some kind of temporary relief from the throbbing. She stroked him, and he watched her, savoring the way her eyes turned hazy as she stared at him, like she was mesmerized by his dick. She dropped her lips to the head, and he groaned loudly at that first dizzying feel of her soft lips wrapped around him.
A tremor rolled down his spine, and he speared his hands through her hair that was still up in some kind of twist on her head. “Fuck, Michelle. Your lips are fucking perfect on me,” he said, moving her up and down as he watched.
She glanced up at him, flashing him some kind of knowing look with those brown eyes.
“Look at you. Look at how good you look with my dick in your mouth,” he said, and relished the way her lips curved up while she sucked up and down. His fingers dug deeper into her hair. “I’m messing up your hair, but I don’t think you’ll be bothered.”
She shook her head, then his balls drew up as her lips tightened around him. More friction, more suction, and he closed his eyes briefly, relaxing into the pleasure bursting through him with every stroke of her tongue, every suck of her lips. She tugged on his balls, rolling them between her fingers as she worked him over with her lips. All his frustration from the afternoon, all the tension from his session, it all melted away with the glide of her lips and the pressure of her hands.