31. Jenna #2
His teeth scrape my chin, his lips against my tongue in my mouth then up to kiss my nose, my forehead, my cheek under my eye.
“Don’t tell me you don’t want to sit in that office when they’re chewing you out, knowing I made you come on that very desk.”
He pulls down the stretchy collar of the cheap dress and goes for my tits. His mouth is hot and wet as he sucks sloppily on my nipples.
“Sh-sh- shit .” I gasp, scrambling back in the chair, my tits hanging out.
He scoops me up, hands under my ass, and I wrap my arms around his neck, kissing him. His back thunks against the glass wall to Bethany’s office. He rolls us, and we stumble into the office .
I’m pulling on his tie, trying to tear off his shirt before I can stop myself.
After pushing my dress up almost to my waist, he sets me on the desk, the edge of Bethany’s cream-and-gold blotter digging into my ass. His fingers are in my mouth. I suck on them as he works me through my panties. I’m wet and achy and moaning for him.
“You want my cock so much you’ll get fired for me, won’t you?” he whispers harshly in my ear.
Right now?
“Yeah, fuck my job. Give it to me.”
“Good girl. That’s what I want to hear.” He slams me back against the desk when I sit up to try and reach for his zipper.
The PIP with my name on it is sitting on the corner. I grab the edge of the desk.
“You need to be begging for it.”
“Shit.” My nails scrape his scalp as he forces my knees apart to fit him and his massive shoulder between my legs.
He’s mouthing me through my panties, his large hand still spreading my thighs, digging into them. He stands out of the crouch then leans over, hands on my tits. I taste myself on his mouth as he kisses me.
“Cock,” I mumble against his mouth. “Give me.”
I arch as his fingers nudge under my panties and slip inside me, curling and finger-fucking me as his mouth is back on my tits.
“Fuck me, fuck me,” I chant.
“Hmm? You know that’s not exactly what I want to hear.” His fingers twist inside of me then pull out as I moan.
“I’m not telling you that you’re right, you sick fuck. ”
He yanks my panties down, the lace burning my thighs. His mouth is back on me, his tongue lapping at my pussy.
“ Shit. ” My knees clutch at his head. He forces my legs apart so wide my hips ache.
His tongue dips inside me and sweeps lower briefly, practically making me come right there. My eyes roll back, and I catch motion as McCarthy’s tongue is working my pussy with long, sure strokes, like this is the reason he’d gotten up in the morning.
In the corner of my eyes, I see movement. Thinking it’s McCarthy’s reflection, I cup his face, my hips surging up to his mouth. He gives me an excruciating lick from my clit to my ass. My eyes roll back and to the side and—
It’s him , Bethany’s husband.
A moan escapes my mouth as McCarthy’s fingers curl in me, then I’m falling over the edge as he wrings the orgasm from me.
Shit.
I’m not looking at McCarthy. I’m peering out of the glass wall. I blink, and the heavyset man is gone.
Did I imagine it?
When my eyes finally cooperate and roll up to McCarthy’s face, he’s smug. His eyes roam over me like he owns my body and he’s just inspecting his new toy. He gives me a punishing kiss.
“I knew you’d come running to me when I called.”
He sits in Bethany’s chair and leans back, smirking, as he watches me hastily rearrange my clothes.
“Of course you did.”
“Come on, don’t be like that. You liked it.” He wraps his arms around my waist .
The lights in the open office flick on. Someone is coming down the hallway.
“Oh my god!”
Bethany, hands over her belly, stomps toward her office. McCarthy doesn’t move.
It’s every man for themselves. I throw myself through the doorway of the office right as Bethany turns the corner.
Her cheeks hollow when she sees me in my state of disarray.
In the dark, McCarthy rises from her desk. Is it just my imagination or does the room reek of sex?
“Were you—are you—” Bethany sputters.
McCarthy’s hair, normally combed back, hangs over his forehead. If this was one of those historical romance novels that I used to sneak from Rainbow, I’d say he looked rakish.
McCarthy’s eyes slide over me to Bethany then back over to me. “You asking if I’m fucking your employee?”
“We were not,” I stammer and salute Bethany then put my hand down when her lip curls.
“Of course not.” McCarthy is derisive. “I don’t fuck women like her. She looks like she’d be bad at it.”
It’s dismissive. Cold.
I hold my breath.
Will Bethany buy it?
“Why are you here at this hour?” I croak out the words, hoping to change the subject.
“I need to pick up files I forgot.” Her mouth turns down.
Stomach sinking, I realize if Bethany’s here, then her husband probably is too. It was him at the window.
McCarthy ushers me toward the elevators, hand on my back. My mind is reeling too much to jerk away.
The limo is waiting, idling alongside the building .
I look up at the office.
McCarthy’s head turns.
I pull him down for a kiss so he won’t see Stu standing there in the window, so McCarthy doesn’t go berserk.
The guards he hired are waiting at the penthouse when we show up. It’s a new crop.
McCarthy grabs my hand when I reach for the button in the elevator for the garage.
“I’m not staying in your penthouse.”
“Are we seriously still playing this game, Cupcake?” He turns me around to him and kisses down my chest. “You don’t even have to beg for it.”
“No, thanks.” I push the button for the garage.
McCarthy blocks me from exiting. “You can’t change there. I don’t want the guards watching you naked in the car that you refuse to stop sleeping in even though I have ten perfectly good bedrooms in my penthouse.”
I cross my arms and lean away when he tries to kiss me then scurry out of the elevator when it lets us off. The bored guards raise their heads.
“Where do you think you’re going?” McCarthy grabs the back of my neck when I race to the stairs.
“Showers are for guests. You’re sleeping in the car.
” He knows my thighs are coated with pussy juices, and his spit is all over my tits.
He drags me against the banister. “Or do you want me to amend your status?”
Even though all I want to do is wash my hair and take a hot bath, I raise my chin.
“Where’s your powder room? ”
I’m gross and still slightly horny when I walk back out in my PJs.
Truman, who is also wearing his matching PJs, trots down the hall to the living room.
He jumps up beside McCarthy, who’s sitting on the couch, drinking a scotch, shirt undone and sleeves rolled up, tie off, jacket off.
“The car is not that comfortable, Cupcake. Admit it. You were wrong. You can stay here. I’ll make you a drink. Run you a bath.”
I press my lips together.
“When I had my tongue in your pussy, you said you didn’t care about getting fired.”
He looks at the glass of brown liquid he’s swirling in his hand. If it weren’t for the fact that Truman is lying on the back of the couch next to his head, wearing his Barbie PJs and chewing on his paw, McCarthy would look like the quintessential movie villain.
“What’s the holdup? Just being stubborn for the sake of it? It won’t make me respect you more, and it can’t possibly make me want you any more than I do.”
My stomach growls.
“I’ll order you dinner.”
“I’m fine. I have a granola bar. If you wanted your cock sucked, you should have kept Sable around.”