CHAPTER 20 – SAWYER #2
“I mean, is there another Sawyer Alburn? I’m simply being accurate.” Nellie sat back and admired her work. “I’m going to send this to myself.”
“You’re absolutely not.”
“It would be very funny.”
“It would be a digital record of a world-renowned CEO endorsing her own professional defeat.”
Nellie tilted her head, as if this were simply a reasonable rebuttal rather than absolute grounds for refusing. Then Sawyer’s mouth found the side of her neck, below the fall of her braid, where the skin was warm and the pulse was quick, and Nellie stopped arguing.
Sawyer kissed her there, tracing her lips over every millimeter she could reach.
“Stop,” Nellie said, without conviction.
Sawyer did not stop.
“Sawyer.” Nellie’s hands curled into fists on the desk. “What if someone walks in?”
“They won’t.” Sawyer moved her mouth along the angle of Nellie’s neck toward her ear, and felt the involuntary tilt of Nellie’s head that meant her body had already voted on the matter.
“Martha doesn’t let anyone through that door unless I’ve cleared it.
The building could be on fire, and she’d still make them wait. ”
“That’s—” Nellie moaned softly. “That’s a level of loyalty that borders on concerning, you know.”
“She’s paid well.”
“For this?”
“Primarily for other things.”
Sawyer slid her hand around from Nellie’s hip to the front of her cargo pants and offered up a silent thanks for elasticated waistbands to no deity in particular.
Nellie sucked in a sharp breath. One of her hands came down over Sawyer’s and then, after a beat of hesitation that Sawyer knew well enough not to push through, moved out of the way.
Sawyer slipped her fingers inside, down past the waistband of Nellie’s underwear, and found her target.
“Oh—” Nellie clapped her free hand over her mouth.
“Quiet,” Sawyer murmured against her ear.
Nellie nodded. Her jaw was tight behind her palm. Sawyer kept her movements slow, teasing, barely putting any pressure on Nellie’s clit until she had her begging.
With each passing second her pussy became wetter, warmer, and she made a muffled sound behind her palm when Sawyer stroked in slightly faster circles.
Nellie turned her face into Sawyer’s neck as if she could muffle the rest of responses against her skin.
Smiling to herself with all the smugness she couldn’t quite find before, Sawyer pressed her lips to her temple.
She could feel the small, rhythmic shudders beginning to take hold, Nellie’s body pulling taut and trembling with the effort of keeping quiet, of keeping still, of holding it all in while Sawyer worked her steadily over the edge.
“I’ve thought about this,” Sawyer whispered against the shell of her ear.
Nellie made an inarticulate sound.
“About making a woman come in my office.” She kept her rhythm exactly as it was. “I’ve thought about it for years.”
Nellie turned her face from Sawyer’s neck long enough to breathe, “I’m—” and then she bit her lip against a deep groan. Her hips rocked, a small, helpless movement, and the sound she made this time required her whole palm to contain it.
“I’m glad,” she managed, just barely, around the edges of her fingers. “I’m glad I get to be the one.”
Sawyer held her tighter around the waist, steadied her, and grazed her teeth lightly down the curve of her earlobe.
Nellie shattered.
She came in Sawyer’s lap with a muffled cry, her whole body shuddering, her head dropped back against Sawyer’s shoulder, her breath ragged and uneven through her nose.
Sawyer kept her hand moving, kept the pace, kept her anchored, until the trembling peaked and broke and Nellie went boneless and slack with a long, barely-voiced exhale that was half laugh and half something slightly pained.
Tracing her lips down Nellie’s hairline, Sawyer waited until the last tremor had faded. Then she withdrew her hand, brought her fingers to her mouth, and tasted her handiwork.
Nellie turned her head, watched this, and the look on her face was something between scandalized and undone, which was, Sawyer had found, her favorite combination.
“You are,” Nellie said, after a considerable pause, “genuinely unhinged.”
“Mm.” Sawyer kissed her jaw. “I’m fine with that.”
Nellie laughed—fully, helplessly, covering her face with both hands—and then slumped back against Sawyer’s chest and stared at the ceiling. The open email draft was still on the monitor in front of them. The cursor blinked patiently at the end.
“You know,” Nellie said, still slightly breathless, “I’ve been inside a lot of offices in my life. Mostly to argue about land rights and environmental law with men who thought I was there to read the meter.” She tilted her head back to look at Sawyer. “None of them were anything like this.”
“I should hope not.”
Nellie grinned again and Sawyer kissed the corner of it.
Then she reached past her and deleted the email.
“Hey—”
“It was never going to get sent.”
“I could have framed it.”
“You could have started an HR investigation.”
Nellie sulked, briefly, magnificently, and then relented, the thin moral ground giving way faster than she’d probably like to admit.
She tugged down the hem of her sweater and ran a hand over her braid as if her thoroughly pleasured state could be concealed by good grooming, which it absolutely could not.
She looked thoroughly, visibly, impeccably ravished, and Sawyer was not remotely sorry about it.