I don’t know what came over me to kiss her. One minute I was so fucking pissed at her for trying to leave and throwing blame at the club. And the next, my lips were on hers. My selfish need to taste her took over, as my last-ditch effort to keep her where she would be safe, and more importantly with me.

It was a dick move, but it was working. There was no doubt in my mind that momentary pause when I pulled away from her luscious, swollen lips that she thought about him. Knowing now that she’d seen the news reports, I told myself that her aloofness the last few days was a mixture of guilt for their deaths and for the feelings she was developing toward me.

What she didn’t know was that my feelings were more than just new lust bearing fruit. I had loved her for months from afar. She was the siren calling me home for the first time, and I couldn’t resist it anymore. Her brother might fucking kill me, but seeing her so soft from my kiss and begging for more in his very office, trumps all reservations that I once had about this.

Her call was my doom, and I accepted my fate with open arms.

Our tongues tangled together in a passionate dance of wills for several minutes, before she pulled away, gasping for air. The break was momentary, before we were smashed together again.

She whines, when I pull my mouth away from hers again, but moans as my tongue licks down her neck and across her collarbone. Goosebumps flourish down her skin in a dotted disarray of desire.

Her body wants this just as badly as mine does, but it doesn’t stop me from asking. I’m a gentleman after all.

“Are you okay with this?” I ask against her neck.

“Did I say stop?” she moans, pulling my face back up to hers and shoving her lips against mine.

My hand leaves her neck, sliding down to her pulp breasts, taking a nipple between two of my fingers. She moans in my ear as I tweak it, before releasing it again and cupping her entire perfectly sized breast in my hand. Her pelvis begins to grind against mine, and my cock strains against the fly of my jeans. Just like before the zipper is problematic, but my cock doesn’t care knowing that it will soon be nestled so tightly inside of her that pain will mean nothing.

My fingers slide from her breast and travel down her stomach, passing her navel. She jerks as I slide a finger against the thin fabric covering her pussy. I gently maneuver her back to Raze’s desk, which squeaks, as we run into it. Her eyes go wide, as her mind realizes where we are.

I try to distract her by returning my lips to her neck, but it doesn’t work.

“We shouldn’t be doing this here,” she protests, with a breathy voice heavy with need.

“You sure about that?” I retort, as my hand slips inside the band of her yoga pants.

My fingers brush just outside of her wet lips, before sliding inside. My index finger finds the pulsating nub, glistening with wet arousal.

“You’re wet already,” I tease. Her hooded eyes look up at me and roll back, as my finger begins to move.

“Oh god,” she sighs, shifting her legs farther open for me.

She wants this release so badly that she has forgotten the fact that I’m finger fucking her against her brother’s desk.

I flex my finger like I’m beckoning someone forward, and her moans grow louder. Each move I make, excites her more to the point that her wetness begins to soak her leggings that are so tightly wrapped around her hips.

“Do you know how fucking sexy you look right now?” I whisper to her, before bringing her into a deep kiss. “So exposed just for me. Any second now your brother could walk in here and see you like this, and that excites you. Doesn’t it, Presley?”

“Uh-huh,” she whimpers.

“Your pussy is greedy just like you.”

My finger slides away from her clitoris and into her entrance. Her thighs tighten around my hand, locking it into place, as I add a second finger, plunging it into her core.

“Faster,” she pleas. “I’m so close.”

I comply, adding a second finger into her slick entrance, and I feel the shudder of her orgasm hitting the brink of release. Her thighs clamp like a vise around my hand, as she rides the wave of her orgasm. Her beautiful, soft body jerks for several minutes, until her eyes finally open and look up at me, completely dazed.

“Did we?” she asks, as reality sets in.

“We did.”

My hand slips from her pants, and I bring it up between us, glistening with her juices over my fingers. Her eyes widen, as I lick her taste off of each one with a moan of my own.

“The next time I taste you will be with my tongue,” I promise her.

She starts to protest, but heavy footsteps start down the hall. The party is now over, before I could even get my cock out. Fucking figures.

Presley jolts from against Raze’s desk. Her hands tug at her pants, and she tries to straighten herself up, after a good fucking orgasm. Thankfully as the footsteps grow closer, they pause and head into the office to the south of Raze’s.

“It’s just Hero.”

“Thank god,” she exclaims. “But what about you?”

“Don’t worry about me, Presley. This,” I motion with the same finger that just I just fucked her with between us, “is just beginning. I’ll be by later to finish what we started.”

She shallows hard with excitement.

“And don’t worry, the cameras will be off.”

She smiles, as she pulls me into another kiss, before breaking the contact and slipping out of the door. I give her a few minutes head start, before sneaking out of the office, but apparently my ninja skills aren’t exactly on par because I walk into Ratchet.

Fuck we almost got caught.

“Hey Ratchy,” I smile, trying to play off what just happened. He scowls. Yup, he knows. Just great.

“Do you think that was wise?” he inquires with a cocked brow.

“Probably not, but it happened.”

“He’s going to fucking kill you,” he mutters, as he passes by me and heads out the door to the garage area of the property.

I just smile, as he passes and mentally tell my cock that his time is coming. What just happened was out of desperate need, and the next time Presley came for me, it would be because that need outweighed the need to forget. I slide into my office, and try to drown out the sound of my cock screaming at me to go find her. I make sure to grab the footage from the hallway earlier and load it onto a flash drive, before deleting it. My work takes up what I think is hours, but the clock moves at a glacial pace. Only ninety minutes has passed. I groan. Each tick and tock seems to take an hour instead of seconds, as my need to feel her body again grows more intense.

“Fuck it!” I exclaim, giving up waiting any longer. My fingers fly, as I code a few programs to run to scan for more information about the dead girls in the area to run, while I reach for the orgasmic stars with Presley. I slide over to the computer monitor that is connected to the camera in Presley’s room, and find footage from a few days ago, as she napped uneasily. I start to record it and write out a few lines to play, while I was in her room. If Raze accessed the feed to check on her, all he would see would be her sleeping in her bed alone. Even though sleeping wasn’t exactly a part of the plan, until afterwards. And she would definitely not be sleeping alone.

Raze was going to find out one way or another, but seeing me and his sister dancing the horizontal mambo was not the way to break it to him. But until I knew where this was going, my plan was to keep it on the down low. The less he knew the better, until we were both ready for everyone to know. We would just leave out the part about hooking up in his office. That was a definite need to only tell a portion of the story.

I notice Presley pacing in her room with her hands wrapped around her body, while the distraction loop records. She looks beautiful, even in deep thought. Her lean legs fall into her beautifully round hips with each step. She’s a breathtaking sight to behold, and someday soon, she will be all mine.

I watch until she moves off-camera, before setting up the video loop. I double check my work, and even view the feed on my own phone, before I walk away from it. Mistakes are easily made in coding. All it takes is one period to be off and it would be a disaster, like in Office Space. The next thing you know there will be copiers being beaten to death, buildings being set on fire, and my happy ass with Presley drinking piña coladas on the beach. Now that I think about it, that would be pretty fucking sweet.

I force myself to stow that plan in the file for a plan z, should I ever need one. Climbing off my office chair, I make a quick stop over to my desk to grab the flash drive containing Presley and I’s jail break from Raze’s office, into the pile of other flash drives set to be destroyed. My heels turn on a dime, as I spin around ready to see her again, when my burner phone pings.

Fuck my life. After what just happened, she’s texting him again. Does she already regret what happened between us so soon?

Pacing the floor, I debate with myself whether or not I’m going to look at it. If I read that message, it has the potential to negate everything that happened earlier. Her words to him could break me, and I honestly don’t know if I can recover from that. On the other hand, it could be the opposite of my worst fears. Maybe she was telling him goodbye. My mind wavers and refuses to make a decision.

Where’s a good therapist when you need one? Oh wait. She’s the root of the current problem at hand. Just my luck.

Before I can change my mind again, I retrieve the phone from the desk drawer, unlock it, and click on her nickname on the screen.

I miss you a little less today. Hope you are okay.

After days of her pleading messages for contact from him, today’s message seems almost mild. It’s neutral in the realm of what she could have said to him. I’d be stupid to think that after what happened between us, that she would drop him like a bad habit. Moving on takes time, and I wasn’t being considerate of that fact. Her feelings for the man standing before her now were just blossoming, but Beauregard had been in her life much longer. Their bond was stronger, and it would take more time to break and bend to let her move on with the real me.

My overzealousness of wanting to keep pushing forward would have been a mistake, and had she not texted him, I would have never seen it, until it was too late. I consider replying back, but that would only drive the need for contact between them.

No. It was best to let it lie, until it was the right moment. We needed more time to find our footing and make a real connection. One that wasn’t driven by sex.

With the change in plans for tonight, I decide on a much different course of action. She would probably be confused at first, but after the fact, she and I would both be happier for it. I flit across my office, grabbing a few things, before heading out to the kitchen for the rest of supplies. The main room is mostly full, but my brothers are engrossed watching the LA Rams kicking the Arizona Cardinals ass on one of the big flat screens, mounted on the wall.

I quietly slip from the kitchen, unnoticed by them and head down the hallway to Presley’s room. She cracks open the door, and her brown eyes grow wide, when she sees what’s in my hands. I push through the door, closing and locking it behind me, after I put down what I am carrying.

“I thought−,” she stammers, clearly confused as I suspected she would be.

“I know. Earlier was amazing,” I truthfully admit, “but it was in the heat of the moment. I want to explore these feelings I have for you and not rush this.”

She smirks like I’m telling the world’s biggest lie to get into her pants.

“So what do you have in mind?”

“Well, you’ve heard the phrase Netflix and Chill, right?”

“Yeah, but I thought you were wanting to go slow.”

I smile, as I grab the popcorn bowl from its perch and pop a few kernels in my mouth.

“That’s right. This isn’t Netflix and Chill. What we have here is Hulu and Hug.”

She shakes her head and just laughs.

“Maybe if you’re lucky, you might just get a kiss,” she teases back. “What are we watching first?”