Chapter 17
MAVERICK
I wanted to punch Jimenez all over again for the way Bridget looked at me right now. Unsure. Her confidence dented. That was fucking wrong.
She was brilliant and beautiful and I wanted to make her see that. To believe it.
Any other woman who read my sex quiz would be naked and riding my dick by now. Every word of it had been accurate and I’d thought of Bridget, and only Bridget as I’d typed it out. The fact that she wasn’t just clothed, but unsure, meant she wasn’t a fling kind of woman. She didn’t do casual.
Neither did I because if that was what I still wanted–and I’d lost interest in that back in my twenties–I’d have gone to a bar and picked up someone. Fucked her. Left her. All of that and not learning her name. Was my age showing? Was that her holdup?
“Did you mean what you wrote?” she asked, a flush creeping up her neck.
My dick got hard, and I shifted in my seat. “Every word.”
She was thinking. Sexy thoughts based on the way she bit her lip and wouldn’t look me in the eye. I had to wonder what specifically.
“Did you like it?” I prodded.
She gave the slightest of nods and I wanted to reach into the back and high five the dog who was staring at us as if he were following along. I gave him a look and he went to the window and stuck his head out.
“Was there… was there something specific you liked the best?” I reached out, stroked her hair, leaned close so I could breathe in her sweet scent. “Be a good girl and tell me.”
Her gaze lifted and… fuck. That. Right there. In those sparkling green eyes, eagerness that couldn’t be hidden by her glasses. I hadn’t asked her if she wanted to sit on my face. Or if she wanted to try to get my dick down her throat. No. I hadn’t said anything but be a good girl.
That… those simple words had her running hot. It was what she meant in her quiz about her fantasy. Being on my knees. It didn’t seem like it, but it all made sense and fuck, would I satisfy her. Because her making me happy made her hot.
She was a people pleaser. No wonder she didn’t file a complaint about Jimenez.
No wonder she wanted to make sure I didn’t see the email, because sending it to a co-worker was wrong.
She’d been bad in making the mistake and she’d tried to fix it so I wouldn’t know about it.
Wouldn’t think she’d done something wrong.
She wanted to be a good girl. Needed to be.
And that made my dick ache because she was good. Perfect, even, in all her quirks and blunders. My chest swelled with pride.
“You want that, don’t you?” I whispered, curving my palm around so it cupped the back of her neck. “To be my good girl?”
Her pink tongue flicked out and she licked her lips again. “Yes,” she admitted.
Pre-cum soaked my boxers at her admission.
“Tell me then. What you liked best.”
“I want… I want to sit in your lap.”
The breathy way she said that… fuck.
“And slide down onto my dick,” I finished for her. “Is your pussy wet, baby?”
I gave her neck a little squeeze and her eyes met mine. “Yes. Take me to your place so I can show you.”
I groaned at her boldness. She didn’t have to tell me twice.