Cris Anson [Cougar Challenge] Adding Heat (pdf)

[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

52
Adding Heat
rested his forehead against hers, took a deep, shuddering breath. “I’m sorry, I’m so, so
sorry. You made me so horny I forgot a condom.”
With a strength of will he didn’t think he had, he pulled his cock out of the sweetest
pussy he’d ever known and gently settled her leg back on the floor.
“I’m clean, Giselle, honest, I had my annual physical in, um, February, yeah, it was
after Presidents’ Day, and I haven’t had any other, er…”
Oh, sweet Jesus, did he have any condoms in his wallet or were they all in the
super-size box he’d bought this afternoon that was probably on the floor of the truck?
He groped blindly behind him, feeling for the back pocket where his wallet was, his
cock bobbing and throbbing between them.
“We’ll worry about condoms later,” she gasped. Wrapping her fingers around him,
she sank to her knees on the concrete floor. “I’m so hungry for your cock I want to give
you what you gave me in the parking lot. ”
In an eyeblink she surrounded him with her mouth. His knees did a shimmy. This
wasn’t right, her servicing him like a streetwalker, his pecker jutting out of his pants as
if he were a john in a dark urban alleyway, a furtive, almost forbidden feel to it. But
holy hell, she worked him like a pro, lips and tongue and fingers all over him, eager
and hungry for his cock, and he couldn’t stop the lava about to erupt, gathering at the
base of his balls and gushing into her mouth until he felt as drained as a balloon that
had lost all its helium.
When sentience returned, he realized he was still hunched over her, his legs barely
holding him upright, and she still held his limp cock in her mouth.
“Giselle,” he gasped, his brain searching for the synapses that would make his arms
lift her to her feet. “Your knees…”
“Didn’t even feel them,” she said, rising effortlessly to meet his gaze. With a wicked
grin she licked her lips. “That was fun. Almost better than chocolate.”
He blinked then joined in her laughter, and something huge lodged in his heart—
the idea that he wanted to keep Giselle laughing for a long, long time.
53
Cris Anson
From Giselle: Oh boy, he went down on me right in the parking lot of the Rib ‘N Draft. This
guy is unbelievably hawt! I’m walking on air. Well, that’s not quite true, I’m walking on caffeine.
It’s Saturday morning and I just sent two crews out at time-and-a-half, and it’s not even eight
o’clock yet. But hoo-eee, it’s a great kind of tiredness! Whether he sticks around or not, I can’t
thank you all enough for allowing me to join you and to encourage me to find my inner cougar.
* * * * *
“That truck you drove Friday night to the Rib ‘N Draft. Is that your personal
vehicle? Or do you use it for the business?”
The offhand reference to Friday night made Giselle’s belly do a little cartwheel, but
Con was strictly business today, all refreshed and alert after his gonzo week. It was
Sunday afternoon and she sat in the client chair at his polished walnut desk. Con
alternately swiveled to face her and keyed numbers into one of the two computers on
the matching credenza behind his desk.
She answered in the same businesslike fashion, sitting on his businesslike chair in
her businesslike jeans and button-down silk blouse.
“Both. I have a magnetic sign for the front doors when I go out on jobs, but it’s also
my primary mode of transportation, and if I don’t necessarily want anyone to know my
whereabouts…” She shrugged. “You know, like if I spend time at the mall, I don’t need
any clients wondering why a Stonehedge truck is in the parking lot all day and why I’m
not managing my employees properly.”
Con nodded absently and continued perusing her tax returns.
In between answering questions, Giselle let her gaze roam around Con’s office.
When she’d been there before—right after his D-Day—she hadn’t seen much beyond
the reception room and the coffeepot alcove. A sunny corner room held not only his
desk and credenza, but a loveseat and two well-cushioned side chairs for conferences
around a substantial coffee table. Another office of like size occupied the far corner of
54
Adding Heat
the second floor. It had been his father’s, he’d said as she showed her around. A
conference room plus an office with two desks for associates completed the suite.
He’d suggested she gather all pertinent papers from the past two years so he could
plug vital statistics into one of his accounting software programs. She’d been happy to
have another opinion of her company’s health. Not that she didn’t trust her own
accountant, just an independent audit, so to speak, of the data.
As he browsed through documents from the various files she’d brought in two
plastic bins with locking tops, she stood to inspect the photos along one wall. Here was [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

Podstrony