Page 90 of Not Safe for Work

When he’s done, he rests his arms on the table, and I bite my lip because even after having his mouth on every inch of my skin and spending the night without a stitch between us, I still can’t get enough of him like this.

He tips his head, his expression reading okay, your turn.

I sneak a self-conscious glance around the room, but no one is watching.

Some people are pretending to listen to the facilitator. Most are looking at their own phones, and a few are nodding off after returning late from last night’s event. I can’t imagine we got more than an hour of sleep either, but I have never been more awake as I turn back to Rafe, watching me like a hawk perched in a tree.

With our gazes locked, I slide one leg off the other and slowly cross them the other way. His smile tips up, zeroing in on me like an eagle spotting a mouse scurrying along the forest floor.

Rafe: That was so fucking hot

My stomach detaches from my body and plummets to the ground. No one has ever made me feel this needy.

Rafe: This is agonizing

Me: You’re the one who made us come here. We could be back in our room right now doing… other things.

Rafe: I think those break-out rooms are empty.

Me: ??????

I pretend not to know what he’s suggesting because the thought is both mortifying and completely electrifying. Who is this man I was so sure I knew?

I’d formed him in concrete and clung to it with obstinacy. From that very first day when he’d stolen the air from my lungs, I’d convinced myself that everything about him was wrong for me. I’d lumped him with the rest of the men who couldn’t be trusted with my heart. But this Rafe isn’t the Rafe I cobbled together with scraps of a humiliated heart and a bruised ego.

This Rafe is passionate and edgy. He sends filthy texts, and he’s looking at me with a sparkle like compressed rock in his eyes. But maybe I also missed it because he’s been hiding who he is, too. He’s also had to fit a mold that’s choking off his air because his family won’t support his dreams.

As my thoughts tumble like dice on a gameboard, Rafe stands, gives me a wink, and then disappears through a door at the back of the room. No one is paying any attention, and I go equally unnoticed as I slide out of my seat to follow a minute later.

I enter a narrow, carpeted hallway with doors leading to smaller breakout rooms furnished with tables and chairs. The heavy door closes behind me, muffling the facilitator’s drone. There’s no sign of Rafe, so I proceed slowly down the hall, peering into each room.

When I reach the end, Rafe’s hand appears out of nowhere and grabs me, pulling me inside and pushing me up against the door as he locks it. He wastes no time trailing kisses down my throat and along my collarbone.

I arch into it, grabbing his hips. “If you’d just taken me up on my offer this morning, then we wouldn’t be in this situation now.”

He lets out a maniacal laugh. “Maybe. Or maybe this was my plan all along. Isn’t it kind of hot knowing we might get caught?”

I choke on a giggle as Rafe backs up until he hits the table.

I stand nestled in the V of his legs while his hands grip my ass, pulling me against his swelling erection. They slide under my skirt as he bites my nipple through the thin material of my top. This is so wildly inappropriate that it makes every line of my body tighten in anticipation.

It goes against every notion of office decorum I’ve imposed on myself, but after Rafe’s confession about the team lead promotion last night, I think I’m over caring what anyone at WMC thinks. Besides, Rafe has a way of making this feel both exciting and safe.

He spins us so I’m now against the table. “Turn around,” he whispers in my ear, and I do so immediately.

He grabs a fistful of my hair, tipping my head up. As he sucks on the curve of my neck, he grinds his cock into my butt. His other hand slides up my leg, tugging up my skirt so it’s gathered at my hips. His fingers slide between my thighs as he rubs against the thin silk.

“Fuck, I can’t get enough of this mouth,” he says as he kisses me deeply, and heat grows roots through all of my limbs.

He bends me against the table and pulls down the back of my underwear, dropping to his knees. I feel him spread me apart as his tongue strokes me from front to back. “I missed that,” he says, letting out a low groan of satisfaction.

“It’s been like three hours,” I say.

“You’re my addiction now, sweetheart. Get used to it.”

Next, I hear the sound of his zipper, and I clench my thighs in anticipation. Last night, we agreed we were okay without condoms since I’m on the pill and we’ve both been tested. He grips my hips in his strong hands and slides into me with a moan.

“Yes,” I cry as he strokes in and out. With my palms pressed flat against the table, I shove my hips back, craving more. I breathe out a moan as Rafe presses his chest to my back and covers my mouth with his large hand.