halfway down her legs, his mouth having to leave hers to do so. This time when his hands returned to their perch, he pulled her tight against him, her bare flesh pressing directly on the hard bulge at the front of his slacks. He ground against her, once … twice, swallowing hard when she gave a tiny whimper, her fingers digging into his shoulders.
Enough!
He scooped her up in his arms in a quick movement and carried her past the still-propped-open doorway in back. His office had a couch.
And a desk.
Yes.
That’s where he wanted her. On his desk, legs splayed open, with him between them. His flesh tightened beyond belief.
That decadent image would carry him through many a lonely night.
And there’d be no danger of hurting her back.
He gave a rough laugh.
Sure. That was the reason.
He pushed on the handle, but it didn’t budge. Damn. Locked.
“Where’s the key?” she whispered.
“Left front pocket.” Thank heavens he’d kept his trousers on.
“I think I can get it.” Hannah scooched her arm between their bodies, her breasts jiggling in a way that made his mouth water. She found his pocket, dipped in and instead of finding his keys and retreating, her hand drifted to the right and curved over the tight ridge of flesh. The fingers massaged and squeezed and drove the breath from his lungs.
“Those aren’t my keys, woman.”
She gave a soft laugh. “I know.” Her nails scraped down his length, the fabric keeping it from hurting while also making it the most erotic sensation he’d ever felt. He almost did the unthinkable standing right there in front of his door.
“Hannah … please.”
She kissed the side of his neck and retrieved his keys. “I like it when you say please.”
That “please” now encompassed asking God to help him make it inside his office.
“Unlock the door.”
He turned his body sideways to allow her to reach the lock, which she undid in record time. Pushing his way past the door, he carried her over to his desk. He surveyed it, trying to figure out where to put her. “Push the pencil cup onto the floor.”
Her brows went up, but she did as he asked, the offending object flying off the side of the desk, shedding pens and pencils as it went. He then set her on the edge and stepped back to watch her as he undid his own pants.
He was afraid she’d get up, but she didn’t. She sat there, panties still halfway down her legs, her arms going back to prop herself on the wide wooden surface. The act pushed her breasts up and out, while pushing his self-control to the breaking point.
Making short work of the rest of his clothes, he moved over to her and rested his arms on either side of her hips. He gave her a long, slow smile. “My turn to get a little dangerous.”
“Believe me, you already are.”
Her tongue came out to moisten her lips. He leaned in and did the same, drawing his tongue slowly across her already wet mouth. He then kissed her chin, before nudging her head back so he had access to the underside of her throat. Working his way down to her shoulder, he dipped further until he reached her right breast.
The second his lips closed over her nipple, he knew it had been worth the wait. Her reaction was immediate. She arched toward him with a moan. But when she went to lift her arms, he put his hands over hers, trapping them on the desk.
She thought she could drive him crazy with no recourse? Well, he was about to get a little of his own back. He suckled and nibbled, holding her in place with his teeth while his tongue lapped over her. When he finally released her, the nipple was slick and tight.
Just like she would be when he finally entered her. And it had to be soon.
He finally stood upright. Hannah’s teeth were digging into her lower lip, eyes sealed shut. Her hips made tiny movements on the surface of his desk.
He wanted to be right in the middle of that.
He slid her panties the rest of the way down her legs, and as soon as they were gone, her thighs spread apart. He swallowed as he moved between them, trying to think about anything other than what was about to happen, and failing miserably. Instead, he gave her a deep open-mouthed kiss, settling against her and finding her just as slick and ready as he’d hoped.
To be sure, he slid his hand between them, thumb seeking the right spot and then stroking gently. She pressed closer, moaning against his mouth. Her flesh enveloped his tip, the heat and tightness driving him to the very edge of insanity. It was all he could do not to thrust into her and lose himself in a fiery rush. As if reading his thoughts, she reached around to grab his butt, pulling him even deeper.
She was so wet, so hot. Her hips were still making those tiny thrusting motions against his arousal … against his thumb. Growing stronger. Quicker.
He sped up the motion of his thumb, knowing that the second she went over the edge, he was going with her. And he’d be able to push deeper. Harder.
No! Wait. Condom!
He started to withdraw, only to have her hands pull at him desperately, her calves wrapping around him, hips sliding forward until she had him fully within her. She lay back on the desk, her eyes pleading with him.
“Greg, now. Please.”
The sight of her lying naked on top of his desk drove every rational thought he’d had a few seconds ago from his mind. Grasping her hips, he pushed into her, reveling in the tight heat that gripped him to perfection. She put her heels on the edge of the desk and rose to meet him stroke for stroke, beads of sweat breaking out on his forehead as he fought for control.
Control he couldn’t seem to find.
No need because Hannah was at the end of hers as well, pushing herself onto him, her hips now leaving the desk every time he drove into her. Within a few seconds she arched up and gasped, her body tightening around him in a series of explosive waves. He gave up and held on for dear life, hands braced on the desk as he thrust into her again and again, her name falling from his lips as he found his own release deep inside her.
He went down onto his elbows as the world slowed, as time began to trickle back to normal. Hannah’s breath floated past his cheek, her sweet, womanly scent washing over him as he struggled to piece together what had just happened.
No need to ask. He already knew.
Hannah had happened. And he realized he’d been trying to avoid this moment for months. Definitely since that fateful hug. Maybe even the entire time he’d known her.
And as reality crystallized, hardening into a rock that blocked his throat—filled his chest—another realization swept over him. This one much more deadly.
His wallet contained an object around which his thoughts and regrets now circled like vultures.
A single, unopened condom.
CHAPTER FIVE
HORRIFIED.
The word she’d been searching for all morning finally came to mind. The one adjective that described Greg’s face when he’d caught his breath enough to stand upright and look down at her. Not regret. Not joy. Not satisfied exhaustion.
Horror.
It was an expression she’d never forget.
Her cheeks burned as she balled up the used exam-table paper and tossed it in the waste receptacle to prepare the room for the next patient. How was she going to get up the nerve to walk into his office and look at that desk? The second she did, would her mind picture