I walk into the lab … and straight to the bathroom.

Son of a … wonderful woman.

I look in the mirror where my reflection stares back at me, taunting me. I am flushed, and my shirt is not buttoned properly.

I’m a hot mess.

Jase … Oh, I ought to …

Well, I should not want to …

God, I love him.

I love him and the way he makes me feel. I love him and the fact that he doesn’t laugh at me—he laughs with me. I love the way he is overprotective and possessive. I love the way he is with our children. I love him and our “debates” that end with me and him and … hot sex.

I’m wet and wanton. I was ready to mount my husband on his desk, shirt or no shirt.

Thank God for Cyrus’s interruption or I would have!

Pregnancy hormones. I blame it on pregnancy hormones, even though I know it’s such bull.

I need to change my panties. They’re like … a snowman in July.

“Ha!” I laugh out loud at myself, wishing I had said that to Jase. Except, I can’t, because … Well, one, it’s totally embarrassing; and two, he’s wearing that shirt.

Trump is messing with my life. He is, and I want to wring his … red neck.

As if on cue, my phone rings. It’s Mimi.

“Good morning,” I say calmly.

“It is, and it’s going to get even better!”

Mimi is excited, over-the-top excited, which is very un-Mimi-like.

“Can’t get any worse,” I mumble as I hold my phone on my shoulder with my chin while I shimmy out of my panties.

“Oh, I am so glad I get to make your day!”

I laugh as I toss my underwear in the garbage. It’s not like I’m going to carry them around.

“Two tickets! I am holding two tickets to Camp Clinton on election night. Me, you, girl power, Hillary, and New York City!”

Oh dear, I think, and apparently, I think too long because she starts talking again.

“Don’t worry about it. I just got off the phone with your husband right before I called you, and he said it was fine.” Without taking a breath so I can tell her that was not her place, she continues, “I was, like, damn right it’s fine. She is a strong, independent woman!”

“Mimi, I have a call. I’ll call you back,” I lie, a little annoyed and not wanting to rain on her parade.

She asked Jase? What am I, twelve?

I stomp out of the bathroom to go grab a pair of fresh undies out of my office, and find him here, sitting on the black marble lab table, looking at his phone. He looks up when I stop in my tracks.

“Jase …” I begin.

“Carly,” he says, setting his phone on the lab table.

“I had no idea Mimi was going to call you.”

He nods, not saying anything.

“I would have asked … I mean, told you I was going if I knew.”

His eyes narrow a bit.

“What?”

“What?” he asks back.

“Well?”

“Well …” He looks up and shakes his head slightly. “Since you’re asking, I guess—”

“I’m not asking,” I tell him with a nod.

“Okay, well then, I’ll let the girls know we won’t be taking them out to dinner after work, and that—”

“Oh, how could I forget?” I clasp my hand over my eyes.

When he chuckles, I remove my hand, looking up at him.

“We didn’t tell them we’d take them to dinner.” I roll my eyes, and he smiles.

“I’ll make you a deal.” He curls his finger, calling me to him.

I know better than to get too close. He has lust and mischief in his milk chocolate eyes, and right now, I’m craving milk chocolate.

I am more than arm’s reach from him, in the safety zone, or so I think, until he hooks his leg around me and pulls me toward him. My hands hit his chest, trying to keep some … unwanted distance. I must be strong.

“Carly, I know what you’re thinking,” he says, reaching his hand around the back of my neck and pulling me closer.

“Kelly Clarkston,” I say, and he chuckles right before he kisses me.

I am lost in his taste, and smell, and want—no, need.

His tongue doesn’t fight for control; it is given without demand. I love the way he controls our kiss, sets the pace, and gives me what he knows I want, while he takes what he needs.

His tongue … God, his tongue is on mine, around mine. It’s just in my mouth, yet I feel it everywhere.

With one hand, he tilts my head, while he runs the other from my bare knee up my hip until he reaches my ass.

“Fuck, baby,” he hisses as he kneads my bare flesh. “Fuck yes.”

He runs one long finger firmly between my leg, but never inside. Seducing, teasing, tormenting me.

“Jase,” I moan quietly into his neck.

“I need to fuck you,” he groans back.

“I need to be fucked.”

“I know, baby, I know.”

He pulls me closer, closer, closer.

Every nerve in my body is over-sensitized by all things Jase. His breath, a trigger. His readiness, the promise. His touch, the key to send me over the edge.

His knee is between us, and I can’t help rubbing against it, sending me closer, closer, closer to the edge.

“Need inside, Carly.” He slides off the table, causing the friction to break.

“Dammit,” I mutter.

In an instant, he is behind me, one hand between my legs, rubbing my swollen flesh up and down, the other on the small of my back, applying just a touch of pressure.

“Face down, ass up, baby,” he says in a thick, rich, decadent tone.

I do as he instructs. Then I hear the sound of his zipper, and as much as I want him inside me, I want to touch him, feel him, take him in my hand, my mouth.

I courageously turn around and stand in front of him, my nipples rubbing against my shirt, needing relief, needing his attention, him. He cocks his head to the side, and I take his hand, pressing it firmly against my breast.

“Love these things,” he says as he gives them a squeeze.

Our eyes are locked on one another’s, watching, wanting, anticipating, as I slowly kneel in front of him.

I take him in my hand and grip him hard at his base. I stroke once, twice, three times, and he growls. The sound consumes me.

I lean in and grab his ring with my teeth, tugging on it as I stroke faster.

“That’s it, baby. Suck that cock,” he encourages.

“Mine,” I whisper as I take his broad head in my mouth.

“Yours,” he hisses between his teeth. “Fuck yes. Fuck. Yes.”

I work his shaft up and down with my hand, his head with my mouth, licking around it, tugging at the ring, sucking him until my cheeks hollow.

“I’m gonna pop in your mouth if you keep that up, Carly. And … aw … fuck!”

He grips my hair and pulls my head back. “Need you over this table now, baby. Need inside that hot little box.”

I pull myself up and start to turn, watching him as I do.

God, he makes me feel beautiful.

“Carly, you in here?”

We both freeze when we hear Thomas’s voice.

“I’m gonna fire his ass,” Jase hisses as he hurries to the bathroom.

While I fix my skirt, I answer, “Morning, Thomas. I’m in the lab.”

He walks in just as I finish fixing myself and smiles.

“You must be excited.”

Oh God, could he tell? How embarrassing!

“Mimi said Jase was excited for you and is going to go with you to the Clinton camp in the city?”

“He what?” I ask, confused.

“Oh hell, did you not know?” Thomas scratches his head.

Just then, Jase comes out of the bathroom, looking totally in control and not like he was just … all hard and stuff.

“Was just about to tell her, Thomas,” he says. “But I’m not actually going, just driving her into the city and getting a suite so I will be there to bring her home when it’s done. Thank you by the way.”

“For watching the kids?” Thomas laughs. “It is our pleasure. Your mother and I enjoy them a great deal.”

I look at Jase, and he winks, leans in, kisses my head, and says, “See you later.” Then he saunters out.

And yes, he has a nice ass.