Executive Perks by Angela Claire Read Free Book Online

of her, his other hand was free to wander and, surprising himself, he thrust it into the silky strands of her long hair. Every X-rated zone of the cool Miss Beckett’s body was suddenly, magically open to him—he could fondle that plush ass or unbutton her shirt to check out the color of her nipples poking against his tongue or even lead her own long fingers to his aching cock—but he did none of those things. Instead, he ran his fingers through her fucking hair, like some besotted teenager. Dry-humping her at the same time, of course, but still…
    Man, considering he still had his pants on, he was dangerously close to going over the edge, fucking his fingers into her wet pussy and mirroring the motion with his hips, rubbing the length of his cock against her. She groaned, her legs spreading farther out to cradle him, and for a minute, he considered unzipping his trousers and dipping his cock into her right now.
    An abrupt swerving of the vehicle reminded him where they were, and he thought better of it.
    “Man, I want to fuck you,” he muttered, punctuating the thought with an even deeper thrust of his fingers, biting her nipple lightly through her shirt.
     
    She came.
    As easy as that.
    She, who often had trouble making herself come when she took the time to bother to even try, and he had done it so quickly, so masterfully. Despite herself, she shuddered as the orgasm gripped her. He lifted his head to try to kiss her lips, but she twisted away, panting, and felt as much as heard his low laugh against her ear.
    “Oh, you are so hot.”
    Kissing her ear, her neck lightly, he withdrew his fingers and though her eyes were closed, she could feel him adjusting her underwear back into place, murmuring, “No thong, Virginia? I’m disappointed.” Even the utilitarian brush of his fingers against the cotton sent a jolt through her.
    Then he laughed again, pulling her skirt down, and sat up. She heard some rustling. He was probably wiping his fingers on a tissue.
    “Not here, though,” he said, sounding very matter of fact. “I’m as nostalgic as the next guy about making it in cars, but I need more room to explore this first time.”
    She was stunned to hear him instruct the driver through the intercom to take them to his apartment. She felt as if the absence of his touch had switched something on, or off, in her seriously disordered brain. Or maybe it was just that she had gotten hers and her brain went back to functioning. She didn’t know.
    She sat up too. She had just gotten through with telling the guy she wasn’t interested in him and she started to kiss him and then came apart right in his hands not two minutes later. What the hell was he supposed to think?
    As he turned back to her, the corner of his mouth rose in a slight sexy smile, she moved out of his reach, terribly embarrassed. Winston didn’t let the distance she put between them discourage him. He merely used it as an opportunity to blatantly do what he had probably furtively been doing since he had first seen her—run his eyes in a frankly sexual assessment down her body, a body he had just beautifully, effortlessly, brought to a shattering orgasm.
    “You are so hot,” he repeated, more to himself than to her, it seemed.
    She didn’t know what to say to extricate herself from this suddenly humiliating situation. There were only two choices here. She was either going to allow herself to be turned into one of Aaron Winston’s casual hook-ups simply because he had proven himself as adept at seduction—well, making out, anyway—as his infuriating good looks suggested, or else she was going to have to blow him off again, which was seriously, and this time maybe understandably, going to piss him off.
    Part of her wanted to pick Door Number One. But she wasn’t very good at casual relationships, actually at any relationships. And, standstill or no standstill, he still owned all that stock.
    Well, there was no point in delaying it. “Look, I’m