Page 9 of Playing with the Boss
The fresh smell of housekeeping greets me, everything tidied and put back in order since I left this morning.
I duck my head back out the door. “Coming?”
She starts with a huff, shoulders dropping as she edges past where I hold the door for her. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure.”
Lisa makes her way into the suite slowly, hand trailing the small cedar table as she drinks in the details of the room. “It’s pretty flash, isn’t it?”
“Never stayed five-star before?” I could remedy that...
“Never had the means or occasion to.” She stops at the glass slider, staring out into the darkening skyline. “I imagine it looks amazing at night.”
“Hang around and find out.” I ditch the tie and get to work on the buttons of my shirt.
She frowns, tossing a cautionary glare over her shoulder. “A rather inappropriate offer for management to make an employee, isn’t it?”
I shed the shirt, not missing the way her eyes widen as they drift across my sculpted torso.
“Hold that thought.” My hands make quick work of my belt, a soft rose flush taking hold in her cheeks when I kick my shoes off and drop my slacks. Arms held out wide, I gesture to my state of undress with my chin. “See? No longer management, am I?”
She chuckles—the most adorable sound—and turns toward the window again. “Clever.”
“You know, you could do the same—get down to your underwear—and then we could rid you of the ‘employee’ title as well.”
She lifts a hand, one eyebrow raised. “Careful. You’re toeing the line there, Mason.”
One word and she throws me off my game. It’s the first time I’ve heard her say my name. I want to listen to her say it again. Repeatedly. Especially while I fuck her.
“You better get a wriggle on if you want more than standing room only,” she gently coaxes. “Friday is busy in the city, as you can imagine.”
“Of course.”
She takes a seat in the armchair at the foot of the bed while I pull a clean pair of jeans and a dark gray button-down from the small closet. With every passing second, the frustration grows.
I’m doing what’s polite, not what’s necessary.
Mere feet from where I stand is a red-blooded female. One who has shown apparent interest in me, and one who I’m most definitely interested in, in return. It’s a goddamn crime not to show Lisa what she does to me—a fucking sin not to treat her like the goddess she is.
I toss the jeans and shirt on the foot of the bed, not stopping as I stalk to where she stiffens in the seat. Her eyes go wide, her lips parting to say something as I reach for her, yet I don’t give her time to voice a single syllable as I tug the woman to her feet and crush my mouth to hers.
Her body is rigid against mine at first, yet with each sweep of my tongue, each pinch of my lips, she softens. Her back arches over my arm, her ass firm in my hold as I press her hips to mine.
A whimper escapes her lips as she pulls back, the pupil of her eyes flaring when she undoubtedly recognizes the erection that presses against her thigh.
“See what you do?”
Her throat bobs as she swallows, inviting, supple. I duck my head and place a heated kiss to her jugular; her breaths fast and flustered.
“The things I wanted to do to you last weekend,” I muse with a shake of my head. “Are you game?”
“For what?” A gentle hand rests against my bare chest, my heart pounding against her touch.
“To let me do them tonight.”
She takes me by surprise, pushing out of my hold despite every other ounce of her body telling me she’s ready and willing: peaked nipples, flushed cheeks, and the repeated tensing of her thighs. She’s aroused, no matter what her voice of reason currently tells her.
“This is crazy. I shouldn’t be here.”