Poppy panted breathlessly as Felix’s mouth left hers to trail wet kisses down the column of her throat to her chest at the same time his fingers found the hem of her dress and inched their way beneath the material and up her thighs.
“So is this part of the interview?” she asked, tunneling her fingers through his hair.
Lifting his head from her breast, Felix stared heatedly up at her. “That depends,” he said, wetting his bottom lip.
“On what,” Poppy asked, her eyes following the movement.
“On how often I get to do this.”
Pulling her hips to the edge of the seat, Poppy felt the hard bulge of his shaft pressing against her core and felt the answering rush of wetness soak her panties.
She gasped and gripped his biceps, feeling the ropes of muscle flex beneath her fingers. “I’m surprised, Mr. Sinclair. I never pegged you for a bad boy.”
“Oh, I assure you, Ms…?”
“Montgomery,” Poppy supplied, her mouth falling open when his fingers slipped inside her panties.
“Ms. Montgomery,” Felix husked, rubbing his fingers through her slick juices. “I can be as bad as you want me to be.”
Biting her lip, Poppy tamped down the urge to moan as Felix circled her opening.
“Tell me, Ms. Montgomery, if I hire you on, how often will you let me do this? Once a month? Once a week…?”
His finger flicked over her clit and Poppy’s entire body jolted in response. “Yes,” she nearly shouted, feeling her body shudder as it edged closer to the precipice.
“Yes, what?” Felix urged. “Once, twice a week? More?”
He was torturing her, moving his thumb over her swollen nub while his finger hovered just above where she needed him most, but never touching her how she craved.
Lifting her hips, Poppy tried to take what she needed, but Felix made sure to stay just out of range. “I need an answer, Poppy,” Felix continued, rubbing her more insistently.
Frustration gripping her, Poppy narrowed her eyes on him. “Every day,” she said through clenched teeth, and then shouted when Felix plunged two thick fingers inside and she came apart in his arms.
She was still shuddering with release when Felix unzipped his pants to free himself. Positioning himself at her entrance, he covered her with his body, brought his mouth to her ear and said gruffly, “you’re hired,” then eased into her, moving at a slow, leisurely pace that promised many more days and nights filled with untold pleasure.
J. C. Valentine is a pseudonym of Brandi Salazar. Outside of erotic romance, she is the author of a wide range of genres, including paranormal romance and young adult. Her latest novella, Stranded, is the first in the Night Call Series designed to give you a taste of what is to come.
J.C. Valentine, Stranded (Night Calls)
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