The Play Mate (Roommates, #2)

“It’s not really a gym gym, per se. It’s like, you know how they have pop-up restaurants around the city? There are pop-up yoga classes. It’s sort of an underground thing, so that’s probably why you haven’t heard of it.”

Or maybe it was the fact that they only existed in my all-too-fertile imagination?

“Ooh, that sounds so cool! When is the next one? I’ll go with you.”

I let out a semi-hysterical laugh that I disguised as a cough. “See, that’s the thing. You never know. Every so often, they just . . . pop up.”

Her brow furrowed and she opened her mouth like she was going to ask more questions, but then seemed to think better of it. “Interesting. Well, in any case, keep it up. You’re positively glowing.”

She hurried out of the office, and the second she closed the door behind her, I folded in half and banged my forehead on my desk with a groan.

Smith wasn’t even in the room, and he was still wreaking havoc on me. My brother noticed me acting weird, and even the receptionist had known something was up. If Smith and I didn’t have sex-and soon-I was pretty sure I was going to wind up in a room with padded walls.

I snatched up the file folder and managed to get lost in work for a while. Once I had come up with a new design concept for an ad, I headed into the copy room so I could blow up the printed version to tack on my wall and see it side by side with the last one to make sure they were different enough, but still cohesive.

I had just tugged the still-warm sheet of paper from the copier when goose bumps popped up on my arms. A second later, warm hands slid around my midriff.

“Want to play bad boss and naughty secretary with me?”Content property of NôvelDra/ma.Org.

Smith’s breath tickled my ear, and my nipples instantly went hard.

“Smith, let me go. What if-”

“Marjorie and your brother are on a conference call in the conference room down the hall. They’ll be at least ten minutes,” he murmured, nipping at my earlobe in a way that shot a bolt of heat straight through my body.

Or they could get done early, and one of them could walk in.

But I couldn’t get the words out because Smith’s hands were sliding up from my waist, higher until he closed them over my breasts. I gasped, and the sheet of paper fell from my limp fingers and fluttered to the floor. He pressed forward until I was pinned against the machine and could feel every inch of his rock-hard length against my ass.

Instinctively, I ground my bottom against him, tearing a groan from his throat. My heart fluttered madly as he toyed with my nipples, rocking his hips against me.

We shouldn’t be doing this. It was a risk that could yield horrific consequences. But, God, he felt good.

“Your body haunts me,” he muttered, his voice hoarse in my ear. “Every time I close my eyes, I think of how sweet that pussy is.”

I swallowed hard and reached behind me, wedging my hand between us to grab hold of his cock. “I think about you too.”

Was that voice even mine? It was so raw, so low and full of need. I squeezed his shaft hard, and he bucked against my hand.

One second, I was pinned against the machine, and the next, he was wheeling me around to face him. His hazel eyes blazed gold as he looked down at me.

“I hadn’t even meant to come in here. I was going to the men’s room to wash my hands, but I smelled that scent and had to follow it. Then, there you were. That sexy silhouette. That ass. Those legs. You’re like a fucking magnet.”

I managed a grin as I ground against him. “And you’re like steel.”

He let out a growl and dived at my mouth, slanting his lips over mine. Ten minutes, he’d said. I couldn’t help but wonder if both of us couldn’t come in three. I knew I could. I was already on the edge.

My entire body tingled as he swept his tongue over mine, fucking me through my clothes with hard, rolling thrusts. I curled my arms around his waist and cupped his ass, plastering him tighter against me. His kisses grew rougher, all finesse gone now, and I loved it. This Smith-wild Smith . . . risk-taker Smith-was the Smith I’d always admired. And I couldn’t deny he was bringing out that side of me too. A side that I’d let go untapped for far too long.

I bounced my hips against him, wishing we were skin to skin, arching helplessly now as my body attempted to relieve the ache. It was only getting worse, spreading lower, stretching like taffy in the sun. I had no idea what had caused this change in him since at dinner he’d seemed intent on playing the perfect gentleman, but I liked this reckless side to him.

I pulled my head back but didn’t stop arching against him. “What if we lock the door?” I whispered, now desperate for it. That satisfaction only Smith could give me.

He groaned and pressed his forehead against mine. “Jesus, Evie, I want to. You have no idea how much I want to. But if the two of us are in here with the door locked, that’s a dead giveaway. Especially if you walk out looking like this.”

His cock was hitting me in exactly the right spot, and I had to choke back a whimper. “Look like what? I look the same as I always do.”

His laugh sounded pained. “No. Your lips are pink and swollen. Your nipples are hard and your eyes are drunk with desire. In a word? You look like you’ve been fucking.”

If only.

But suddenly, a noise echoed down the hallway.

“So then we’ll call him back right before end of business,” Cullen said, presumably to Marjorie.

“Break time is over.” Smith stepped back with a sad half smile on his lips as he straightened my blouse. “I’m going to have to borrow your file folder, though.”

My pulse pounded hard as I nodded, still in a daze. “Sure.”

I didn’t know what he meant to do with it until he held it in front of his cock like a shield. Laughter threatened to bubble from me, and I slapped my hand over my mouth.

He held a finger up to his lips. “Shh.” He dropped one last kiss to the tip of my nose and backed toward the door. “I’ll drop this off to you later,” he said, gesturing to the file folder. Then he disappeared out the door.

I could hear him talking with Cullen down the hall, so I waited for a full five minutes before leaving the little copy room. Not just because I didn’t want to run into Cullen, but because that was how long it took to get my legs back under me and steady.

Smith Hamilton was packing some seriously powerful stuff. So powerful, in fact, that I had to wonder how any woman resisted him.

The feel of his hands tangled in my hair, the swell of his cock between my legs. In those few stolen moments, so much had changed.

He wanted me. Maybe just as badly as I wanted him.

And now that I knew that? All bets were off. I was willing to fight for my man.