I cried out his name, my hips moving, his cock pressing harder on my back.“And this.” He pressed his fingers deeper, his thumb harder. “This pretty, sweet pussy. Like a flower. It blossoms for me, doesn’t it?”“Yes,” I panted.His ministrations picked up, his breathing growing harsh. “Just for me.”“Oh God, yes.”“You’re going to come on my hand, Deirdre. When I tell you to. Aren’t you?”I could only whimper.“I’m going to come all over your back. You’re going to wear me on your skin all day. Think of me when your blouse sticks and remember how hard you came for me.”I shook, undulated on his hand, cried out his name. Gasped for air. He stroked me harder, one hand splayed across my stomach, gripping me tightly to him.He grunted and his body jerked. “Come. Now, Deirdre. Come for me.”I exploded, crying out and gripping his legs. Wetness covered my back as he clutched me close, his face buried in my neck.I collapsed against him.After a moment, he pressed his mouth to my ear.“Look a

Weeks later, I glanced at my watch, late on a Friday afternoon. Life had returned to normal. The office was busy, Dee moved in, and all was great.I shifted in my chair, ran a hand over my chest, and winced. I’d had a tattoo done over my heart and it was still tender. My first—and my last. I’d gotten the idea one night, and I’d talked to Aiden about it. Once I was ready, he took me to his guy and I got inked. It was something I never planned to do—but then again, I’d never planned to fall in love either. Dee was the force behind both deviations.Dee had wept when I showed it to her.My Dee it read in cursive ink set into an infinity symbol. It was private, personal, and only a few people would ever see it. The same few people who ever saw the real me.Dee’s appreciation had been rather demonstrative once the tattoo began to heal. She liked to use her tongue and trace the ink. I liked it as well.Bentley walked in, tugging on his sleeves. I grinned at the tight expression on his face.

Two years laterMaddoxMY PHONE CHIMED with a reminder of my three o’clock meeting. Not that I needed reminding. Every Friday, same time, no matter what else was happening.It was the most important meeting I had every week.I shed my suit jacket and unbuttoned my vest, hanging them over the back of my chair. I kept on my shirt but removed the cuff links and loosened the sleeves.I headed down the hall, my smile already wide, knowing what was waiting for me behind the closed door at the end of the corridor.I passed the office that now belonged to Emmy, waving at her as I went by. She chuckled and returned my salute, a smile playing on her lips. Across the hall was where Dee worked, though she wasn’t in the office today. We had convinced her to join the company. She worked with Bill, our lawyer, as his paralegal; she was excellent at research and a real asset to our company.I opened the door and stepped inside. What had once been two large offices was now a nursery/playroom, filled w

“That’s it!” Harry yells.“What is?”“The bags—they are the wrong colors compared to what’s in the instructions. That’s why nothing is adding up. It’s all labeled wrong.”“What?” Fletcher frowns.“The red parts are orange, and the orange parts are red. The black parts are white, and the white parts are gray. That’s why we can’t find all the pieces. The colors are all wrong.”Tristan punches his fist. “Why you . . . tick tock . . . old man.”“Yeah,” Harrison growls. “Tick tock.”“Hmm.” The stylist’s eyes roam up and down my body as she circles me. “We have a lot to work with here.” She fiddles with my hair and tucks it behind my ears. She messes it up with her fingers as she inspects me in great detail.My eyes flick to Marley, and she gives me two thumbs-up, the universal symbol of “You can do this.”It’s Wednesday, and I’m at the dreaded appointment with the personal stylist. “You’re gorgeous, Claire; there is no doubt about it. Your bone structure is flawless, and you have a beautif