Come.

Her clit tingled in response to the phantom whisper in her head. She squeezed her thighs together, the ache increasing. In her mind, Ry’s dusky eyelashes fluttered open and his heated gaze met hers. She knew he saw her naked need, her struggle to keep the looming orgasm at bay. The glint in his whisky-brown eyes informed her of the implausibility of avoiding the inevitable. Furthermore, he’d be the one to push her over the edge.

He lifted to his feet and walked to her desk, his presence overwhelming her senses, invading her space. His focus lingered on the tight buds of her nipples apparent beneath her sweater before drifting down to the V of her thighs. “Are you wet, baby?”

She tried to look away, but his adamant stare held her firm. Wouldn’t allow her to hide from him. She bit her lip and nodded.

“Show me.”

Anyone could come in and see her. How could she expose herself—in every sense of the word—to that possibility? Illicit excitement raced through her veins and sped up her pulse, making her dizzy and breathless.

“Do it, Lace. Let me see how much you want me.” Ry’s hand stroked over the impressive bulge tenting the fly of his jeans.

There was no way she could deny him. Or herself. Her fingers shook as she eased down her zipper and slowly revealed the first inch or so of her red silk thong. A satisfied growl rolled from Ry. “My favorite.”

That’s why she’d worn it. She knew how much he loved the texture of the silk against her skin. And he knew how much she loved it when he pulled the fabric snug between the cheeks of her ass, using the tormenting friction to tease her clit and labia, knowing full well the addition of his fingers applying pressure on the bunched elastic riding against her puckered rosebud would be enough to shoot her over the edge. But he never went that easy on her. No, he was a master at prolonging her pleasure. Keeping her suspended on the precipice of orgasm for endless hours.

The tension in his big body and the promise in his sinful eyes hinted she was in for a long night. “Take your pants off, Lace. Panties too.”

“But—”

“Now.” The firmness in his tone thrilled her. He’d find a delicious way to punish her for disobeying him. Of that she was certain.

She shimmied from her slacks and thong. Ry dropped onto his haunches and picked up her underwear. He buried his nose in the garment and inhaled with a lusty groan. The sound, along with the expression on his face, made her skin flush and her clit ache.

“Christ, you smell fucking good, Lace. I want to lap you up.” His knuckles whitened as his grip tightened on the slip of scarlet silk. “But first I want to watch you play with that pretty little pussy for me.”

She whimpered and he grasped the edge of her chair, swiveling the seat sideways until she faced him fully. He tugged her closer so her butt rested on the edge of the padded leather. His warm, calloused palms slid along her inner thighs, refusing to touch her exactly where she wanted him most. He hooked her knees over the arms of the chair, opening her completely to his gaze. Cool air stirred across her wetness. A lush decadence spiraled within her. Under Ry’s hot, watchful stare, she was free to be as uninhibited as she pleased. There was no awkwardness, no shame. No worry that he would think her anything less than what she was.

A vibrant sex goddess.

The intensity in his eyes and the prominent tic in his jaw banished her ever-present doubts. There was also the massive erection straining at the placket of his jeans to consider. With fantasy Ry, she never questioned if he desired her. No, he wanted her. Always. Any way, every way, he could have her.

“You’re dripping, baby. And your clit is all swollen and glistening. I think you better rub it. Make it feel good for me.”

“But I want you to lick me.”

“I will. I’m plannin’ on spending all night eating out your sweet pussy. But I want you to strum that clit first. Get it nice and juicy for me.” He reached for her hand and sucked her index finger into his mouth, wetting it. She didn’t require extra lubrication, but the rasp of his tongue and slight scrape of his teeth was beyond arousing. A fresh surge of moisture trickled from her slit and slid toward the crack of her ass. Ry released her finger and guided it to her pussy. Her clit throbbed, begging for her touch, but she bypassed the demanding nubbin and grazed the slick folds of her labia, teasing herself. And Ry. His nostrils flared, his consuming focus glued to her motions. Undulating her hips, she dragged her fingertip higher in slow increments. She hovered just beneath the quivering bundle of nerves, waiting, stringing out the torment. Ry licked his lips, his erection thickening.

Unable to deny herself a second longer, she caressed her clit. The contact shot an electrical current of pleasure throughout her body, making her jolt. A moan snuck past her lips. “Ooh.”

Ry’s attention jerked to her face. His gaze locked with hers. “Tell me what you’re feeling.”

She’d known he would ask. Ry was always all about the details. “My clit is wet and slippery.”

“Is it beating beneath your finger?”

“Not yet. Soon.”

“Tease it with little flicks.” A hungry hum of pleasure rumbled from Ry’s chest when she complied with his request. “You like that, don’t you, baby?”

“I like your tongue on me more. Or your cock. Inside me.”

A sexy, knowing smile tipped one corner of Ry’s mouth. “Maybe. But we both know what you like best.”

She tried to look away from his dark, seductive stare, but it reeled her in.

“What is it that you love most, Lace?”

“Y-you. Fucking me.”

“Where?”

“In my ass.” She bit her lip.

“What is Bram doing while I’m fucking your ass? Watching?”

She shook her head. “He’s with us. Filling my pussy.”

“That’s right. We’re fucking you together, baby. The way it’s always been meant to be. Our cocks are pounding into you, soaked with your juices.”

A strangled groan tore from her throat, the first beat coursing through her clit.

“We’re gonna make you come, Lace. So fucking hard.”

Lacey’s phone chimed again. She gave a startled jerk, snapping from her fantasy. Holy shit. Her breath sawing from her lungs in short gasps, she dropped her gaze to her lap, half afraid she’d find her hand buried between her legs. She was relieved to note that it wasn’t. Mortifying enough that she’d been mentally masturbating at work. If she’d been pleasuring herself in reality? She would have crawled beneath her desk and not come out for the next week, particularly if Ry had opened his eyes and noticed what she’d been up to.

Reminded of her fantasy lover’s presence, her focus veered to the couch. He was still in his relaxed pose, and the unmistakable sound of soft snores proclaimed him asleep.

Thank God for small miracles.

Her cell beeped again, announcing yet another text. There was no great mystery as to who it was most likely from. Smothering a sigh, she swiped the aggravating device from her bag and glanced at the words typed on the screen. Why aren’t you rescuing me?

She skipped to the previous message. Olivia’s got me cornered in the bar.

Lacey blew out a heavy breath. Olivia Barnam was only one among a long parade of bimbettes who’d fallen into Bram’s bed, but the woman had proven to be less willing to leave it than the others, and as a result, had gotten into the habit of stalking him at work. While she wasn’t exactly a fan of Olivia’s, Bram was a big boy. Let him take care of his own damn problems. She punched in a quick reply. Busy right now.

Almost immediately, Bram’s response pinged back at her. I’ll do anything you want. Just. Get. Your. Ass. Out. Here.

Anything she wanted? Her pussy grew even wetter as she considered the possibilities. Yeah, not bloody likely. She eyed the wall before quickly typing in her selling price. Elvis. I want him destroyed.

Bram’s answer took a little longer coming this time. Ry won’t go for that.

Sucks to be you, then. A spark of orneriness prompted her to add, Give Olivia a smooch from me. She hit send. Before she even lowered her cell to her desk, Bram’s message flashed across the display.

Fine. Elvis is adios.

Ooh, yeah. Victory tasted sweet. She scooted out of her seat and strode to the door. A moment later she left Ry’s snores behind and entered the Dockside’s bar area. Although it wasn’t technically happy hour yet, the space was already getting crowded. She spotted Bram over by the pass thru, his smile strained as Olivia plastered her sex-kitten body against him. Wow, he hadn’t been exaggerating about being cornered. Olivia had literally backed him into the wall.

Lacey’s irritability vanished. Big boy or not, Bram had been forced into an untenable situation. He couldn’t very well make a scene in front of everyone, and Olivia damn well knew that.

Anger roiling in her stomach, Lacey crossed the room. As she neared, Bram looked her way and caught her eye. Relief scuttled across his gorgeous face. Elbowing her way to his side, she plunked her hands on her hips. “I’ve been looking all over for you. Did you forget you were supposed to help me look for the extra case of pilsner glasses?”

Bram took his cue in stride and, with an overabundance of exuberance, slapped his hand on his forehead and grimaced. “Damn, I did. Sorry.”

Holy crap that was some bad acting. No wonder he was kicked out of the drama club. And here she’d always assumed it was because he’d been caught buck-ass naked in the costume changing room with Allison Reedy.