‘It’s quite fun being in charge for once,’ I muse. ‘Look who’s calling the shots now.’

‘If you’re going to treat me like your little office fuck toy, you should know I can get on board with that,’ he tells me. Fuck, he’s sexy with his shirt half undone and his hair messed up and that cricket bat in his pants.

I run a fingertip down the exposed skin of his chest. Now, there’s an idea. ‘Really?’

‘Really.’

I sigh for effect. ‘I could use a few orgasms. It’s been a stressful few weeks.’

His grin is filthy. ‘Then use me.’

It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard.

‘Okay… then take off my bra. My nipples need some love. They’re so achy.’

They really are—tiny, aching nubs that require some serious attention.

‘Done.’ A quick one-handed snap behind me and the bra falls away from my body.

‘You’re way too good at that.’

‘Well, I am a professional.’ He looks far too pleased with himself.

‘Then what are you waiting for?’ I demand.

He shakes his head with pride. ‘Fuck me, you’re cocky.’ Then that same dark head is dipping to my left breast so he can suck one greedy nipple into his mouth. His pull is strong, the shot of arousal instantaneous.

‘Oh my God oh my God,’ I chant as he finds my right nipple with his fingers and pinches it hard. I grind against him, shoving my breast into his mouth, desperate for as much sensation as I can chase. Jesus Christ, I’ve missed this. Missed Brendan’s dangerous mouth and skilful fingers. I luxuriate in the unearthly pleasure of writhing in his lap as he tends to me.

‘I need your fingers,’ I gasp as the devilish things he’s doing to my breasts threaten to undo me. ‘And your dick.’

He pops off my breast with an agonised groan and comes up for a hard kiss, his ravenous tongue devouring my mouth, his hand sliding down over my stomach like an obedient little fuck toy, fingertips brushing the thin lace strip covering my outrageously needy pussy only to stop dead. He pulls away from the kiss, and I freeze.

‘Bren? What’s wrong?’

His mouth twists in distress. He meets my eyes hesitantly. ‘Last time I tried to pull this stunt, I⁠—’

Oh shit. He’s thinking back to that moment in that lunch meeting, the one I’ve tried my hardest to bury.

‘Jesus, this is nothing like that,’ I tell him. ‘I didn’t even make the connection.’

‘I did, though. I’m not sure I’ve earned this.’ He looks so devastated that I cup his cheek, stroking the soft hair of his beard.