“Morton is a shit,” I say, and Avery cocks his head, those French braids he’s rocking looking far too nice. He redid them this morning because mine did not look this good.
Hell, I could pull them real easily.
“Just distracted is all,” I say, and Avery’s eyebrows pinch, his pink lips puckered.
“You’re never too distracted to work.”
Yeah, well, that was before I met you, I think as I fiddle with a pencil holder.
Avery arches an eyebrow at me, and my dick twitches in my pants. My hand shoots out and I knock the holder over. Pencils and pens tumble to the floor, and Avery eyes me for a moment before leaning over, almost folded in half to pick them up.
And I almost expire on the spot.
Oh my god.
Oh my god.
A wheeze escapes my throat, and I clench my fists at my sides because I want to reach out to him and put myself out of my fucking misery.
“You okay?” Avery asks, turning his head to peek around his legs. Why is he still bent over like this? How long does it take to pick up some damn pencils? Does he know what he does to me? Is he teasing me? “Why are you breathing like that?”
He stands up, and I can’t take it anymore. I move toward him, stepping into his space.
Avery’s eyes widen as he stumbles back, his ass on the edge of the desk, his hands still clutching those damn pencils. And all I do is hover over him.
“Dean,” he breathes, and the sound of my name on his lips is causing my libido to go out of control. My dick isaching. It’s like the other night while I was massaging his thighs and he moaned my name.
The things that sound did to me. It made mewild.
“This fucking skirt,” I say gruffly, and I watch as Avery’s cheeks flush. “This damn tiny shirt.”
He blinks up at me, and oh my god, I want to spin him around and bend him over. I want to spread his cheeks and slide my cock right inside of his tight, little hole.
Oh fuck, I want that.
“This is so inappropriate,” I murmur, and Avery’s cheeks darken.
“You said it was fine,” he bites out. “You said you didn’t have a problem with it.”
He’s growing angry, his pretty eyes filling with tears, and I swallow roughly, realizing how my words could be misconstrued. Oh, I’m fucking it all up.
“I’ll go home and change,” he mutters, his voice a little broken, but before he can step around me, I reach out and grab on to his hips.
I stifle a groan in my throat. Oh fuck, he feelsgood.
“You don’t understand,” I begin, but I’m cut off by Avery’s biting words.
“I understand men like you perfectly.”
The accusation does me in. I spin him around and press into him, my hard cock shoved right against his ass, right where it wants to be.
“You don’t fucking understand,” I say again, and Avery lets out a shaky breath.
Oh yes, he gets it now. He fucking gets it.
My hands clench against his hips as I rock into him, just once, and Avery whimpers.
Oh god, this is sexual harassment. What the fuck am I doing? I can’t do this.
