Under His Kilt
“Nerves forced her to catalog every detail. The cherry wood desk had neat little stacks of office supplies, a closed laptop sat in the middle. A behemoth armless leather chair guarded a corner in the office and next to it a small table. To her surprise, decent copies of his degrees lined the wall above the file cabinets. Outside of those personal touches, there was nothing of him in the office. Just like his apartment.She would have asked an asinine question to fill the silence, but then his han...ds wrapped around her waist. He pressed his lips to her neck and began to unbutton her suit jacket, then shirt. “We’re going to play the quiet game,” he said and didn’t sound like himself at all. He sounded gruff and half-mad, which spurred him to drag her in here with him.She must have been too, because she said, “The first to moan loses.”Ian’s fingers curled into the demi-cup as he pulled her bra down for better access. She bit back the gasp when his fingernails grazed her nipples.MoreLess
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