I moved before rational thought could stop me or I could fear that someone, anyone could bust through the door. I moved before I let myself truly process that I was opening myself up to a whole world of hurting by acknowledging that I was in love with Brock.

Dropping down to my knees in front of him, I placed my hands on either side of his knees and spread them apart. His ragged inhale was like a shot of thunder as I slid my hands along the inside of his thighs, and I took a deep breath. I cupped him through the pants. He was hot and hard, straining the thin material.

“Fuck,” he groaned. His hands dropped to the arms of the chair, and when I peeked up, I saw he was white-knuckling it. He breathed heavy as I lifted my gaze to his, wondering if he’d stop me. “I’m all yours,” he gritted out.

The statement excited me beyond belief, but knowing that my touch was doing this to him, setting his jaw in a hard line and making his chest rise and fall powerfully thrilled me.

Lowering my gaze, I stroked him through his pants, reveling when he let out another rough sound. A strange and wonderful warm haze invaded me as I reached for the band. My hand shook as I tugged on his pants.

Brock rose, aiding me along as I inched his pants and the tight, black briefs down, exposing the rather impressive length.

Holy wow . . .

He was thick and long and perfect, and I . . . I wanted to taste him.

“You keep staring at me like that, this will be over before we even get started.”

The right side of my mouth curved up. “We . . . we wouldn’t want that, would we?” I wrapped my hand around the base of his cock. He kicked against my palm, burning hot and smooth like silk over steel.

His head fell back and his hips punched into my grasp. I moved my hand, slowly dragging it up and the back down. Awed and fascinated, I felt him from the base to the gleaming tip. He breathed heavily and ground out my name, “Jillian.” Tiny hairs all over my body raised as a far-off part of me never foresaw this, never could imagine that I’d be on my knees in an office, about to do what I was getting ready to.

Stretching up a few inches, I lowered my mouth, closing my lips around the tip. The salty taste of him teased my tongue. Hoping I was doing this right, I moved my hand as I brought him deeper into my mouth.

“Fuck,” he growled, hips flexing as I swirled my tongue along the broad head of his cock. “Jillian, I . . .” He seemed to lose track of what he was saying, because he swore again and his large, powerful body tightened.