Chapter 9: The Study

He set me down on the desk, and the last of the papers slid onto the floor.

I did not care.

I pulled his shirt open, and buttons skittered across the floorboards.

His chest was broad and scarred, with dark hair, and he was breathing as hard as I was.

"Jacket," he said.

I shrugged out of it.

He dragged my blouse over my head and threw it behind him.

His eyes went to the lace of my bra, and a sound came out of him that was half a curse.

"You've been walking around in that for two days."

"It's the one I bought for the rehearsal dinner."

"Brandon never saw it."

"No."

"Good."

He unhooked it with one hand and pulled it off me.

Then his mouth was on my breast.

He sucked hard on the nipple, and his tongue worked it in slow circles.

I arched off the desk and shoved my fingers into his hair.

"Hayes."

"Say it again."

"Hayes, don't stop."

He bit down gently, and I cried out.

His hand was already under my skirt, pushing the fabric up around my waist.

He hooked two fingers in my underwear and dragged it down my legs.

I kicked it away.

He stepped back and looked at me, spread on his father's desk with my skirt around my hips.

"Fuck," he said. "You're soaked."

I was.

I could feel it on my thighs.

He ran one finger through me, slowly, from my entrance to my clit.

I jerked.

"Look at that," he said. "Two days of arguing and you're this wet for me."

"Shut up and touch me."

"That's not what the terms say."

"Burn the terms."

He laughed, low and rough, and then he did it.

He pressed his thumb on my clit and slid two fingers inside me.

I came up on my elbows with my mouth open.

He fucked me with his fingers, curling them to hit the spot that made my vision go white at the edges.

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