Off Limits by Lola Darling Read Free Book Online

tomorrow we’ll have even more time. Have a good rest of your day, Miss MacIntyre.” I breeze past her toward the office door. But as my hand closes around the doorknob, she lets her parting shot fly.
    “Give Hannah my regards,” she mutters.
    I step out of the office without a reply, and swing the door closed behind me. Let her think whatever she wants. Let her think the same thing as everyone else in the office. It doesn’t matter.
    Chloe MacIntyre might be the sexiest distraction at the office, but I can’t afford to lose track of my priorities.

Seven

Chloe
    W arm , strong hands run down my sides. They skate the curves of my hips, almost but not quite brushing my lower back, then dipping lower to grip my thighs. One hand lifts my leg easily and wraps it around a tight, perfectly sculpted ass.
    “Chloe.” Max’s voice is a deep rumble that I can feel thrum through my veins—not least because I’m pressed against his chest, my hands digging into his muscular back, my breasts crushed tight against his hard, bare chest. I drag one hand around to trace his washboard abs—God, he even has that little V where his muscles dip into his waistband. I want to bite my way down that V, yank off his jeans.
    He’s way ahead of me, his hands already sliding their way back up my thighs now, beneath my skirt—no, not a skirt, a dress, something loose and flowy, not at all my style. It makes me pause, but only for a second. Because then his hands sear higher along my skin, and his fingers grip my bare ass around the tiny thong I’m wearing, and I forget to worry about anything else.
    “I’m going to fuck you.” His breath comes hot in my ear, just before he catches my lobe in his teeth and bites down, hard enough that I can feel it. “Right here. Right now.”
    His hand tightens on my ass, and I can’t help myself. A tiny, desperate moan escapes my mouth. Without warning, he grabs my hips and spins me around—I probably leave claw marks on his back as he does it, but then I’m facing away from him, towards my desk, and he’s pushing me across it.
    What if someone opens the door? I think, but I don’t say it out loud. I don’t actually want him to stop.
    Fucking hell, I’m so goddamn wet.
    He parts my thighs, and I can feel the hard pressure of his cock against my ass as his hands grab at my thong, prying it aside. I’m practically shaking in anticipation now, my hands digging into the edges of the desk, but he’s stopped moving.
    “Do it,” I say, then raise my voice louder. “Fuck me.”
    He drives into me, and it’s almost more than I can take, a hot, exquisite pressure. He strains at my walls, his cock filling every inch of me, and when he draws back for the next thrust, I gasp in protest at losing that sensation. I don’t have to wait long, though. He slams back into me, and my hips buck into him as we find our rhythm, both of us thrusting hard, crashing together again and again, until I can’t contain myself anymore. A loud cry escapes my lips—
    I blink, startled at the sound of my own voice. There’s no desk. No warm body pressed against mine, no cock buried inside me. I’m curled under my silk sheets, in my empty, silent bedroom. The bright red clock on my nightstand blurs as the time shifts.
    5:24am.
    Shit.
    Just a dream.
    I catch my breath, and try to ignore the fact that there’s a faint sheen of sweat across my skin, and an ache between my legs, a painful throb of unfulfilled desire.
    “You really need to get laid, Chlo,” I mutter to myself in the quiet, dark apartment. It’s been a while since I’ve had any kind of a sex dream, and I’m pretty sure dreaming about the guy I’m currently butting heads with at work is a first for me.
    I roll over in bed and yank the pillow over my head, before groaning in frustration into it. This is what happens when you haven’t had sex in . . . well, an embarrassingly long time.
    You start to take out your frustration in all the worst possible