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Rules of Contact

Page 50

   


   He came over to her and swept his hand over her hair. “It’s okay. You’re entitled. You had a bad experience and it’s all right if that affects you every now and then. Now, can you forgive me for not reacting well?”
   “Given how shitty I behaved, there’s nothing to forgive. I’m surprised you’re even speaking to me. Frankly, I’m shocked you didn’t fire me.”
   He frowned. “Amelia. Let’s get one thing straight right now. Our relationship is now and always will be separate from the job. One has nothing to do with the other. You could tell me right now to go fuck myself and you’ll still have a job tomorrow. You understand?”
   She nodded. “Yes.”
   “Okay.”
   She appreciated the line of demarcation separating their personal relationship from their work relationship. And he’d given her a really nice out considering her bad behavior from yesterday. She laid her forehead against his chest. “Thank you for understanding about yesterday.”
   He put his coffee cup down on the kitchen island, then tipped her chin up with his finger. “So we’re okay now?”
   She smiled at him. “Yes, we’re okay now.”
   He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. This was what she needed, that affirmation of affection, of warmth between them. She’d felt so awful last night and this morning, not only because of how she’d behaved, but also because she’d missed him. She was grateful to find him so understanding.
   And now, as he pulled her against him, she wanted to show him how much she appreciated him as a man. She leaned into him, pressing her body against his hard muscle, drawing in his strength as he deepened the kiss. When he let his hand roam down her back to cup her butt and draw her sex closer to his rigid erection, she moaned against his lips.
   He pulled back. “I need to fuck you.”
   She nodded, every part of her trembling with the same need. “Yes. Right now.”
   She thought he’d take her hand and lead her to the bedroom. Instead, he swept her sweater off her shoulders and laid it on the bar stool, then pulled her tank top off, filling his hands with her breasts. His mouth was next and she whimpered at the heat and wetness as he sucked her nipple. She held on to his arms as he took her to that place where every part of her quivered with awareness.
   When he popped her nipple out of his mouth, he took her lips in a scorching kiss that only heated her desire to flaming levels.
   He quickly removed his shirt, then toed off his tennis shoes and shrugged out of his jeans and boxers, leaving him standing in her kitchen oh so erect and incredibly gorgeous.
   He kneeled on the floor to pull her sweats down and followed through with her underwear. But instead of standing, he leaned in and swiped his tongue across her sex.
   She reached for the counter for support as he buried his tongue inside of her.
   “Flynn.” His name fell as a needy, desperate whisper from her mouth. And when he moved from her pussy to her clit, using his tongue to tease and torture her until her legs were shaking, she leaned both elbows against the counter and spread her legs, giving him better access.
   His reply to that was to hum against her, the sound and sensation flooding her senses until she couldn’t stand it any longer. She came with a rush and cry, shoving her sex against his face, demanding her orgasm from him.
   And oh, did he ever give it to her. He wrapped his arm around her buttocks and held tight to her as he buried his face against her while she came. Her climax obliterated her senses so hard she thought she might collapse onto the floor. Thankfully she had the counter and Flynn for support.
   When he stood, he kissed her, this time a slow, languorous kiss that sent her from simmer to fiery hot all over again.
   He turned her around and bent her over the counter, then fished into the pocket of his jeans for a condom.
   She looked at him over her shoulder, looked at the condom in his hand and gave him a crooked smile. “Sure thing?”
   He leaned over her and nipped at her shoulder. “Babe, you are anything but a sure thing.”
   She liked the sound of that.
   He put the condom on, moved in between her legs and smoothed his hand over her hip.
   “You came good.”
   She made a murmuring sound of approval. “Hell yes I did.”
   “Do it again.” He slid into her with a slow, easy glide that made goose bumps pop onto her skin.
   She grasped the counter as he moved within her with slow, measured movements.
   “Tell me what feels good for you,” he said.
   “This feels good. Just like this.”
   He swept his hand around to fondle her breasts, to tease and pluck her nipples. The sensations took her breath away, making her push back against him.
   “Oh, yeah,” he said. “Now, that’s what I like. Push yourself onto my cock.”
   She loved hearing him talk. The sound of Flynn’s deep voice was an aphrodisiac all on its own. And when he moved inside of her and spoke to her, encouraging her with whispered, naughty words, all she wanted to do was come.
   She reached between her legs to rub her clit. As she moved her hand over the bud, her pussy tightened around Flynn’s shaft.
   “That’s it,” Flynn said. “Make yourself come. Make me come, too.”
   He drove into her with precise movements, using his cock, his hands and his mouth to take her right to the edge. She used her own hand to soar right over.
   “I’m coming,” she said, tilting her head back and rocking against his cock as she shook all over with her orgasm.
   Flynn gripped her hips and thrust faster, then groaned as he drove deeply into her again and again as he came.
   She was out of breath when she came down from that amazing, quivering high.
   Flynn scooped his arm around her and pulled her upright, then withdrew, turned her around and cupped the side of her face with his hand.
   “I can barely breathe,” she said, grinning.
   “Ditto.”
   He kissed her, this time a soft, gentle kiss that sent those familiar quakes dancing around in her stomach.
   He took her hand and they went to the bedroom. After he disposed of the condom, they climbed into bed.
   “I don’t know about you, but I didn’t sleep much last night,” she said.
   He curled up behind her and kissed the side of her neck. “You don’t have anything to do today, do you?”
   She yawned. “Nothing super important. Just laundry and paying bills and . . . things.”
   She wasn’t sure she finished the sentence before she was asleep.