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She was making a mistake…a huge one. Des was forbidden fruit and she’d come this close to taking a bite. She didn’t do quickies in a public place. She didn’t throw herself at unsuitable men.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Trembling hands made the fiddly buttons on her shirt a nightmare and she let out a steadying breath before continuing. She was zipping up her jeans when Des walked back into his office.

He raked a hand through his hair. The stubborn waves sprang back into position as soon as he released them. “Don’t go.”

“I shouldn’t have done this.” Her voice trembled as she bent down, scooping up her heels from where they lay, overturned, on the floor. She slipped her shoes on and folded her arms across her chest.

“Gracie…”

“This is your place of work.”

“It’s my business. I’m not going to fire myself and with some of the shit the guys pull, no one here is going to say anything.”

“Do they all know what we were doing?” A wave of nausea rolled through her. If only the ground would open up and swallow her whole.

Twenty-seven years old and she’d never been caught kissing a boy, let alone been caught with both proverbial and literal pants down. She brought her hands up to her cheeks and closed her eyes.

“Of course not.” He swaggered over to her and wrapped his arms around her waist. “However, if you’re the one making all the noise, I can’t be held responsible for that.”

“Oh, no.” Shame washed over her. Had she been moaning loud enough to breach the walls of the office? When his lips connected with her breast it was like her whole world went blank. She could have been doing anything. “Please stop.”

It wasn’t like she was some virginal innocent. She’d had a lot of sex, but most of it happened to be with her ex. Since then she’d found the few—very few—men she’d let into her bedroom to be lacking in all departments. No guy had been able to turn her on like this.

Des was different…and that was exactly what made him dangerous. She fell apart around him, lost control of her sensibilities. That was never a good thing.

“I have a new rule for you.” He brushed his lips over her cheek, the stubble on his jaw scraping against her skin.

“Really?” Rules were comforting; rules were safe. Right now she could do with a little more of that.

“Yes, the rules according to Des.” His hand stroked her lower back, soothing her. “You should never, ever, ever feel ashamed for being turned on. There is no greater joy in life for a man than seeing a gorgeous woman enjoying herself sexually.”

“That’s not a rule.”

“Like hell it isn’t. Rules aren’t purely to stop you from doing things, you know—you can use them for good instead of evil.”

“I don’t use them for evil.”

“Then come home with me.” His eyes locked onto hers, two sparkling black gems that were hypnotic in their power over her.

“Now?” A breath caught in her throat. “But you have a restaurant full of people, you have a business to run, you have—”

“I have the need to see you splayed out naked on my bed, Gracie.” As if to prove his point he backed her up to the wall of his office and pushed his hips against her. “I have the need to taste every sweet inch of you, to bring you to orgasm after orgasm after orgasm.”

She sighed, her head rolling back against the wall while he trailed kisses up her neck.

“Is that a yes?”

“You had me at naked.”

There had been plenty of opportunities for Gracie to back out—from the awkward escape at the restaurant, to the short walk to his car, to the ten minute drive to his house. She’d been quiet the whole way, but she never broke contact with him.

Her hands drew intricate patterns on his thigh while he drove and she snuggled against his back as he unlocked the front door. Part of him had wondered if she might gather her senses and make a break for it.

Yet here she was, standing in his living room among the leather furniture, exposed brick, and polished boards. She radiated at the center of it all and he couldn’t look anywhere else.

“Can I get you something to drink? Wine? Soda?” The courtesy was merely a tick in a box because he didn’t want her to think he’d savage her the second they walked through the front door. Though savaging her was exactly what he wanted to do.

He worried that she’d use him to scratch an itch and go back to her normal life in the morning, where he would be nothing but a memory. In his normal state, that part would have a louder voice and be more effective to stop him. But logic wasn’t the part of him ruling right now. His cock was throbbing so hard that no other signal in his body could possibly override it.

One night and you can get her out of your system. Then you can both walk away tomorrow, no strings. No emotions.

“I didn’t come here for a drink,” she said, removing her jacket. She slipped it off slowly and draped it over the coffee table. “I came for orgasms.”

Des’s blood simmered anew. Though she smiled and moved slowly, her hand trembled as she undid the buttons of her shirt.

“I like a girl who knows what she wants.”

“I’m not feeling ashamed for being turned on,” she said, parroting his words from earlier, as though convincing herself.

“And how turned on are you?”

She un-zipped her jeans and let them puddle at her feet, her shirt following. In the soft lighting of his lounge room she looked like an angel, the glow of the lamp picked up the burnished tones of her hair and her cream lace underwear was a striking contrast to her olive skin.

“Why don’t you see for yourself?”

Before he had time to think he was in front of her, sweeping her up against him while his lips found hers. She was like liquid pleasure—pliable, fluid. He backed her against the wall, his mouth searing a trail down the slender length of her neck, tasting her honeyed skin. He pushed down the straps of her bra, bending to suck a beaded nipple through the lace cup.

He wanted to know exactly how excited she was. His fingertips danced down her side, skimming the scalloped edge of her underwear. Hooking a finger under the waistband, he traced the sensitive flesh there.

She jumped, stifling a cry by pressing her lips together. His free hand skirted around her waist, supporting her while he delved deeper. She was hot, wet.

“Please.” The plea was murmured against his neck. “More.”

His thumb found the sensitive bundle of nerves at her center, stroking slow and steady while she writhed against him. Her body sagged forward as she gasped, her forehead pressed against his chest, her breath hot through his T-shirt.

Pleasure manifested itself in her breathless whimpers as she jerked her hips, increasing the friction between them. Enjoying her frustration far too much, Des held her tight with his other arm to prevent her from taking control. She was completely at his mercy, a groaning, wriggling, firecracker of feminine goodness. His cock pulsed harder. He wanted her badly but the sensation of bringing her to orgasm in his arms was too good to pass up.

“Des.” She stretched out his name until it dissolved into a cry against his chest. “You’re killing me.”

“What do you want, Gracie?” He nuzzled her hair, keeping his thumb flicking a steady rhythm against her clit.

“I want to come,” she panted. “Please, I need it.”

He increased the pressure of his hand, rubbing and giving her the purchase she craved. When she broke apart it was like his whole world tilted. Her knees gave out and he held her up while she spasmed against his hand. The weight of her body in his arms and the total control he’d had over her pleasure made Des’s head spin.