“Alicia.” Jackson’s voice, breaking the stillness of the sixth floor, made me jump. I whirled around.
He stepped closer and interlaced his fingers with mine.
Without a word, he tugged me into his office. He closed the door behind him and flipped the bolt to lock it. He flicked a switch on the wall, and blinds rustled down, blocking out the rest of the office. He prowled toward me.
“How’d it go?” My voice came out high and breathy.
“Huh?”
“The speech.”
“Fine. But that’s not what I want to talk about now.”
“Oh?” He wanted to talk? He looked like he wanted to rip my clothes off and ravish me right there on the chaise. I couldn’t stop the smile that spread over my face or the tingle that started between my legs when I caught his hungry stare.
“I want to talk about how many times I can make you come here in my office before I have to carry you out.”
I shivered. “Oh.”
“Want to start on the desk?”
I pictured bending over the desk while Jackson entered me from behind. My thighs slicked; the thong was doing nothing to contain my arousal. We’d done it half a dozen times that way on his kitchen counter, Jackson so deep inside me I’d blacked out from the intensity of my orgasm. Somehow, though, that enormous expanse of wood was different.
I lifted my chin. “That desk is steeped in patriarchy. I’m not about to bend over it like some virgin in one of Marlee’s books.”
“‘Steeped in patriarchy?’” He chuckled. “Sounds serious.”
“Don’t laugh. Synergy has an appalling lack of female executives.”
His smile dissolved. “Something Cooper and I are working to address now. And Weston.” His lip curled as he said the CEO’s name. “Maybe when your gig with Jamila is done, I’ll be able to lure you into one of those executive positions.”
“Luring me into an executive position?” I quirked an eyebrow.
“Now who’s not being serious?” He took two strides toward me, lifted me, and dropped me on the edge of his desk. I laughed until he spread my knees apart and knelt before me. “How’s this for an executive position?” He teased a finger along the scrap of fabric that covered me.
“I’ll take it.”
Without another word, he tugged my thong aside, spread me, and landed his mouth on my clit, circling it with his tongue in that figure-eight pattern I loved. His beard scratched against my thighs, warming them in a way I’d feel hours later. I leaned back on the desk, propped up by my arms. When his teeth scratched lightly across me, my back bowed.
He flattened his tongue over me and then sucked, stretching my clit. He popped off. “More?”
“More.” I’d gotten so used to coming silently on my vibrator in my bedroom next to Noah’s that I wasn’t used to giving the feedback Jackson craved. I tightened my thighs on the sides of his head. “More sucking.”
I felt his cheeks rise in a grin before he did exactly that. The pleasure radiated up from my clit, sparked my heart into a faster rhythm, and made my pulse pound in my ears. I curled my hands into fists. “Yes, Jackson, yes,” I whispered as I spiraled up and up into blackness and white noise. My body stiffened, and my mouth gaped in a silent scream.
When I floated back inside my body, Jackson was beaming up at me, his eyes glowing and his beard wet with me. He kissed the inside of my thigh, pink from beard burn. “Think we’ve crushed the patriarchy out of this desk?”
My voice was scratchy when I said, “It might take another session or two to fully eradicate it.”
“I’m up for that.” He rose to stand in front of me.
“I can see you’re up for it.” I set my hand on his belt buckle. Want me to—”
He laid a hand over mine. “Not here. Let’s go back to my place. I think there might be some patriarchy hiding out in my bed.”
“Maybe some reverse cowgirl would take care of it.” I slid off the desk and twitched my hips, setting my skirt swinging.
“I can get behind that plan.” He stepped up behind me and smoothed his palms from my ribs down my front and between my legs.
“I thought we were going home?” Still, I pressed back against his hardness.
“Home. I like the sound of that.”
“Me, too.”
He took my hand, and we stepped out of the office, knowing home wasn’t his apartment or even my mother’s place back in Austin. Home was wherever the two of us could be together. And soon, we’d be home all the time.
* * *
