For Adults Only
June was about to get fired.
She just knew it.
She knew the only reason her boss had asked her to meet him and the human resource manager first thing Monday morning was to tell her she was let go—because she was a horndog.
To be honest, she couldn’t blame him. She could blame him for a lot of other things, but not for disapproving of her work ethic.
Work ethic. Ha!
Lately she doubted she had any. If she did, she wouldn’t spend so much time daydreaming in the office. Bright green eyes, a crooked smile on lips made of sin, and shoulders broad enough to carry the weight of the world took up her every thought. Too bad the whole package was off limits.
Her boss had to have noticed her ogling the star of her fantasies on more than one occasion, and was probably livid.
He had to be, since it was his own brother. And twelve years June’s senior.
Bruce, also known as the man who could erase June from the corporate map forever, had only been her boss a couple of weeks before subtly hinting he’d like for there to be more between them. He was tall, dark, and handsome, and June had been single for way too long, so she’d finally decided agreeing to one date with him wouldn’t be all that bad.
Unfortunately for Bruce, his brother Dorian had first popped by for a visit on the day June had decided to tell Bruce she’d meet him for a drink. Fortunately for June, that meant her boss had never found out she’d been close to going out with him. As Bruce’s attempts to get in her panties only became more persistent, June was more thankful by the day that she’d never mentioned it.
Not that Bruce seemed to mind being shot down repeatedly. Their offices were the only two on the top floor of the building, and he took advantage of that privacy to make increasingly blatant passes at her. In hopes he’d eventually accept her lack of interest, June tried hard to be as professional as possible. She might have managed, if she could keep her mind at work instead of hoping for the off chance to catch a glimpse of Dorian’s yummy ass stretching those tight jeans he always wore.
She felt so shallow having the hots for a guy who’d only spoken to her to introduce himself and say he was there to see the head honcho. Sure, he called her cute nicknames, but it was always a version of, “Hi, beautiful. I’m here to see the man.” For what little his mouth said to her, though, his body said a lot more. It had a language of its own, calling her to it with every retreating step he took, asking her to lick it, ride it…
June realized her eyes had lost focus at the thought of said body, and had an uncontrollable urge to bang her head on the desk. She pushed the keyboard out of the way, let her head thump on the hard surface, and curled her arms around it.
She was so screwed!
“Are you ok, beautiful?”
No, now, she was screwed! And what was he doing there? It wasn’t even noon, and Bruce wasn’t in yet. Being top of the food chain let him come and go as he pleased. It didn’t hurt that the company belonged to his father.
June knew that voice; the memory of the man it belonged to had helped her orgasm on countless sleepless nights. Still, she chanced turning her head a bit to the side and let out a groan when her suspicions were confirmed. He stood next to her desk, looking at her with equal parts worry and amusement dancing in his brilliant green eyes. She hid her face in her arms again, wishing him away. She’d obviously already used up her wishing quota for the year, however, because she heard him move behind her.
“June? Is something the matter?” Dorian placed both hands on her shoulders.
And that was it. She threw her head back—and bumped the back of it against the hard planes of his stomach. “Yes, Mr. Harris. Something is the matter. And if you don’t take your hands off me, things are going to get worse.”
It was funny looking at him upside down as he stared at her, amusement gone from his eyes. “What happened? Is it Bruce?”
For some reason, his question pissed her off and loosened her tongue. She no longer cared that he was her boss’s brother; she’d be fired after the weekend anyway. “No, it’s not Bruce. It’s you!” He seemed shell shocked, which made seeing his chin over his eyes even funnier. Still, June didn’t let herself be distracted. “And will you move? I’m straining my neck!”
He released her shoulders and took a couple steps to the side, holding his open palms up in a show of surrender. Then he leaned against the edge of her desk on one hip and crossed his arms. “Me? What the fuck did I do?”
“You”—she bolted upright, sending her chair rolling backwards, leaned toward him, and poked him hard on the sternum— “show up here, with your…your tight jeans and your swagger and…and this grin…and—and you’re too old for this haircut!”
“What’s wrong with my hair?”
She glared at him for having only been bothered by that part of her rant. “It’s too long. And too…wavy.” And she best it was silky and smelled like lust. “You’re too old for it. And this is a place of business, buddy. You can’t just show up whenever you want. Your brother isn’t here. And I have work to do. Work. Do you even know what that means?”
“Please enlighten me.”
Was he mocking her? He was mocking her! Of course he was, with his head cocked to the side, one eyebrow arched, and his tongue curled behind his front teeth.
“It means not being able to sneak up on people in the middle of the day, because you have responsibilities that keep you focused on something.” She glared harder, snappily retrieving her traitorous finger that had stopped poking him and was grazing a hint of a nipple evident under his t-shirt.
He chuckled. “And would you say that is the official definition?”
“You do not chuckle when I’m pissed at you!” All sense of self-control was lost, and her hands started flailing, assaulting the body they wanted to caress.
Quick as lightening, he grabbed her wrists. Pulling her to him, he bent forward so his lips were only inches away from hers. His eyes looked wild. “What’s your problem, woman?”
“You! You’re my problem.” She struggled to free her hands, her fingers reaching and grasping the fabric of his shirt. He had to twist them and pin her against the desk to keep her still.
They were both panting as they strived to keep their balance. Then June slipped, pulling him half on top of her as she leaned back onto the desk. That shift was enough for her to feel the bulge between his legs pushing into her hip. Her irrational anger immediately melted into the feeling from which it had stemmed: desire.
Dorian had let go of one of her wrists to steady himself, and his palm was planted on the desk, by her waist. He was so close, his breath caressed her cheek. Their bodies touched, and suddenly June knew she’d resisted temptation long enough.
She sneaked her free hand to the back of his head, tangled her fingers in his hair, and guided his lips to hers.
She was screwed alright, so she’d better make it count.
She shimmied underneath him, spreading her legs as far as her skirt would allow, and cursing at the stupid thing for preventing her from wrapping her legs around Dorian’s narrow hips. She wanted to feel his hardness where she needed it the most.
That was when she realized he wasn’t kissing her back and blinked up at him.
“June, you don’t want to—”
“I do.” She breathed the words against his mouth before the thought that maybe he didn’t registered. She pulled back to look into his eyes. “Unless you don’t…”
He shook his head hard. “Oh, I want to. I just have tell you—”
She didn’t need to hear more. She nibbled on his lower lip and could feel him strain with the effort to pull back again.
“—something,” he panted when he finally managed to speak again. He grabbed her hips and held her still when she tried to lift them and rub against him. “I have tell you something.”
“Are you married?” She ran her hands down his back and then moved to lift the hem of her skirt.
“No,” he said as if the thought never occurred to him. “Not involved in any way, but—”
“Gay?” Her skirt bunched at the top of her thighs, she raised her hips enough to draw it around her waist before starting to fumble with his belt.
“Definitely not, but—”
“And you want me?”
“Fuck, yes.”
“Then I don’t care.” And she didn’t. Bruce could walk in right then, hell the U.S. Army were more than welcome to, as long as they didn’t try to stop her from feeling his cock inside her.
“To hell with it.” He stood upright and pushed her hands away. Before she could protest, he undid his belt on his own and popped the buttons of his jeans in one fluid motion. His cock sprang out, hard and proud against the sliver of his taught stomach that was revealed for fractions of a second.
June looked at him and had to check her tongue to make sure it hadn’t rolled out of her mouth.
He fished a condom from his back pocket, tore the packaging with his teeth, and rolled it down his length. Then he wrapped his arms under June’s knees and lifted them. His cock poised at her pussy, he paused. “Are you sure about this?”
June could only nod.
He didn’t push into her; he pulled her against him, slowly impaling her on his cock and watching her face with such intensity, she thought she would weep.
He suddenly froze half-buried inside her. “I—I didn’t think to…”
She whimpered, longing to feel all of him. “What?”
“Prepare you…”
He seemed almost bashful, and she couldn’t hold back a grin. “I’ve been ready since you first walked through these doors.”
June could swear he growled at that, and then she couldn’t think any more as he shoved the rest of his shaft inside her. He snaked his arms under her back, so he could hold on to her shoulders, her legs draped over his upper arms.
It was all she could do to hold on to him, her fingers finding their way up his shirt to scratch his back, her hips mirroring his fervent motions, as he plunged into her hard and fast.
He kissed her as hard as he took her, claiming her mouth, and she melted against him. A tension coiled low in her belly, while her mind screamed again and again a resounding ‘yes’ at each of his thrusts.
Yes, he was there.
Yes, he wanted her.
Yes, he was fucking her.
Yes, she was close!
“Fuck, yes,” she cried out when he changed his angle and rubbed against that spot inside her.
Dorian straightened up a bit, making his thrusts shallower and slower. He let her lean back on the desk and moved his hands to her breasts. Her nipples, puckered with desire, ached when he rolled them between his fingers. “Play with yourself. I want to watch you getting yourself off. Want to see your little fingers rub your clit, feel you strangle my cock. Do it for me?”
Of course she would. She’d do anything he asked, if he would just stay there, between her legs.
She ran two fingers along her slit, taking the time to caress his body where it was linked with hers, before slowly circling her clit.
Dorian’s gaze held the same intensity as when he’d first entered her, only now it was locked to the movement of her hand, his jaw clenched with self restraint. He adapted the rhythm of his strokes to that of her fingers, adding to the white hot pressure inside her.
She began rubbing faster, pinching and rolling the swollen pearl, and his pace picked up too. Her spine bowed one final time when he ordered in a hoarse voice, “Come for me, June. Now.”
He didn’t have to ask again. Pleasure burst through her veins, making stars blossom before her eyes as the tightness inside her exploded. “Kiss me,” she whispered. His lips covered hers at once, and her body convulsed under him, limbs jerking.
Dorian didn’t cease moving inside her, the thrusts of his hips becoming jerky, until he roared his release inside her mouth. His body tensed and then went lax, and he had to make visible effort not to collapse on top of her.
June used the hand still at his back to press him to her, wanting his weight to reassure her that he was real—that she hadn’t dreamed the wonderful tryst, the mind-blowing sex.
She didn’t have to. He took her other hand from where it lay limp between their bodies and brought her fingers to his mouth to lick them clean. “Next time I’m tasting this straight from the source.” His tone was too serious for his words.
She looked up at him and let out a giggle.
“Was that funny for you, gorgeous?”
“No, it’s not that. I was just thinking—” She worried her lower lip.
“What?”
“I just had sex with my boss’s brother. On my desk.” She giggled again. It was a good thing she’d be sacked come Monday.
He grimaced. “You just had sex with your boss. On your desk.”
“Huh?” She had to have heard him wrong.
“Bruce is going to San Francisco. I’m taking over this branch. He was supposed to fill you in on Monday. I tried telling you, before, but…” He swooped in for a kiss, but she averted her face.
“That—that means…” Her voice broke.
He cupped her face and turned her to face him. His look was soft. “Only thing it means is that we never have to worry about anyone walking in on us. You can stop this whenever you want.”
Round two took place on Bruce’s former desk.
lol you are adorable 🙂 that was great Sotia
xoxo Heather