Wait. What are we doing?

I jerk my head back. “But I don’t even like you,” I gasp.

“No, I don’t like you much either, but what the hell,” he mutters, and his mouth crashes down on mine again.

Yup, I don’t like him, but I sure do like the way his lips move over mine, the way he holds me tight enough to take my breath away. His arms are as strong as they look and firm with bulging muscle. The sort of arms I could lose myself in and never come up for air and be perfectly fine with it because oh, my God, he’s the best kisser I’ve ever known.

My toes curl and my arms break out in goosebumps as the sensations from his probing, demanding tongue race through my body, leaving me trembling—eager for more.

But this is wrong. It’s so wrong.

He’s my boss, for Christ’s sake. I shouldn’t even be thinking about this, much less doing it. But here we are, and I want this. I want it so much. I can’t think about it, or else the magic will dissolve.

Anyway, it feels right, my body pressed against his, my hands running up and down his arms, shoulders and back. God, he’s perfect, the most perfect body I’ve ever touched. I can’t get enough of him. He pushes me against the wall and I have no choice, but to succumb. Not that I want to do anything else.

I pull my mouth from his for a split second, though, remembering the little one. She’s hidden from view, only the edges of her blankets visible from behind the file cabinets. Even so, when I cut my eyes in that direction, he nods.

“Shh…” Then his mouth is plundering mine again, and the kiss is deeper, more passionate this time. Actually, all-consuming. I feel myself melting, turning to nothing but a puddle of sheer ecstatic pleasure as he kisses away every last inhibition I harbor.

We sink to the floor, wrapped up in each other. He stretches his tall frame out over mine while one hand slides up my leg from ankle to thigh. Only the knowledge of the sleeping child on the other side of the lab keeps me from crying out my pleasure. From begging him for more. His fingers dance at the hem of my panties, teasing both of us, while his mouth kisses a trail from my lips to my chin, down my throat, to the bit of skin revealed above the buttons of my blouse. I work at them with trembling fingers, ready to burst with need.

He chuckles against my skin, sending pleasurable little vibrations through me as he moves lower and lower with each new open button. He works my shirt out of my skirt, opening it fully, one of his hands cupping my breast through my bra and squeezing gently, his tongue sliding beneath the lace. I hold his head close, my fingers tangling in his hair, arching my back in an attempt to give myself to him, to present myself for him to feast on. He rolls his hips in response, driving his bulge against my thigh, and we both groan softly.

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath. “I don’t have any condoms.”

I sit up halfway, shedding the blouse and unhooking my bra. “I do.” I reach up to the tabletop and pull my purse down. I extract a flat packet out and tear the silver wrapper away.

He’s on me in an instant, sucking at my nipples until the ache between my legs is almost painful. He works my skirt up to my hips and slides my panties off, tossing them aside and spreading my thighs wide to reveal my wet, tender slit.

The growl, low and deep in his throat, precedes the dipping of his fingers into my folds.

I grip his shoulders tight, wishing I could scream as my hips buck against his hand. He works my clit, breathing hard against my neck, both of us struggling to give into our passion while staying as quiet as possible.

If anything, that only makes this even more forbidden. And hotter, so much hotter.

It’s inappropriate. Actually, it’s not inappropriate—it’s wrong for me to have sex with the boss! It’s against every rule. Everything about this is just downright wrong. The way he strokes my clit, the way his fingers slide inside me. The way my muscles clench around the thick digits. The way he pumps them in and out until I’m unable to stop myself as my mouth opens in a cry of pleasure. His hand clamps down over my mouth, and my eyes go wide with surprise, but I don’t pull away. In fact, I jerk my hips toward him, thrusting right back. Until I dissolve in a frenzy of furious spasms, biting on the side of his fist to quiet my scream of ecstasy.

I’m still panting when I hear his zipper. He sheaths himself and I feel the heavy weight of his erect dick against my thigh. I glance down. My eyes open with surprise and lustful hunger as I note the length and girth. I want to draw him into me, hold him fast, take every last bit of pleasure I can.

He spreads my legs wider. Grabbing one of my tits, he takes it into his mouth. He bites down on it as he thrusts the massive head of his cock into me. “You’re so hot and wet,” he grunts, as my nipple pops out of his mouth.

I close my eyes and bite my lip as I adjust to his size.

“And so fucking tight,” he hisses between clenched teeth.

My pussy clenches. He withdraws only to drive forward again. And again. He takes my other nipple and bites down hard. I open my mouth and his hand clamps down just as he rams into me. It’s a rough fuck. His cock enormous and angry inside me, his eyes watching my pussy, open wide for him to use; and his hands…they roam where they please.  

With a dark glint in his eyes, he possess me, claims me, and brands me.

I pull him down until he’s on his forearms. Opening his shirt, I let my hands revel in the feel of his bare skin under my hands. All the while, he takes me. Hard. Fast. Furious. Without the slightest hint of a second thought or a moment of hesitation. He slams in and out, grinding against me, grunting softly from the effort.

I hold him with arms, legs, pulling him deeper, raking my nails down his back and taking wicked pleasure in the way he hisses. His thrusts pick up speed, grow stronger, until our bodies crash together in a strange pain/pleasure mix I’ve never experienced before now and won’t be able to live without after tonight.

He takes me.

I take him.

We both know what we want and we ride each other, using each other for our pleasure, delighting in the pleasure of the other. I want it to last forever but it can’t, since we’re both already tensing with the onslaught of climax. I clutch him tight, our bodies crushed together as my muscles clamp around his length like a vice. He groans, losing himself in me, trembling as he comes.

My head’s in a whirl, my thoughts circling around so fast it’s enough to make my brain ache.

Oh, my God. What did we just do? The only sounds in the room are that of us catching our breath. I’ve never let myself go like that before, and the stakes have never been so high. My boss. No, not just my boss—the CEO of the company. Damn…the owner of the company.

Whom I hate.

I hate him, right?

I did. At least, I thought I did. There’s a thin line. I’ve never truly understood the truth of that statement until now. The line between love and hate is indeed, thin. Not that I love him. Nowhere near it. But there’s been an insane undercurrent of attraction running through my resentment of him since the night we had our fight. And he clearly feels the same, or else we wouldn’t have just gone at it like a pair of horny rabbits, right here in the middle of the lab.

He’s still on top of me, still breathing like a wild animal, and I can’t bring myself to let him go. But I have to. I need to. I can’t forget why I’m here or what it means for me to be part of this project. It was the frenzy of the moment, is all. The tension we’ve both been dealing with for so long, the relief, and finally that rush at our success. It all came out like this and that’s that.

And that is all there is to it.

A simple explanation for a terrible mistake.

So…why can’t I let him go?