Muscling In Read Online Free Page A

but they’re
important for networking and getting the company out there.”
    “It’s not boring.” I squeezed
his leg. “I enjoy seeing you in action.”
    He glanced my way, threw a
sinful smile at me, then turned back to the road. “You’re going to witness some
very hot action when we get home.”
    “I like the sound of that.”
Feeling a little emboldened by the champagne, I slid my hand up his leg and
cupped his cock through the folds of his suit trousers.
    “Watch it,” he said, shifting
on the seat.
    He was hardening beneath my
hand. I adored that I had that effect on him. One touch, one suggestive remark,
one lick of my lips and he was getting ready to go.
    I squeezed his shaft and ran
my thumb over the outline of his cockhead.
    “Babe,” he said, reaching for
my wrist and tugging me away.
    “Spoil sport.” I huffed.
    He chuckled. “Not that I don’t
adore your hands on me, but remember when we got carried away that time, coming
back from your mother’s?”
    “How could I forget?” I licked
my lips, recalling how I’d gone down on him while he was driving. He’d been so
hard, and it had felt so naughty.
    “I nearly killed us both.” He
drew my hand to his mouth and kissed my knuckles. “Worse ways to go but
hey…it’s not our time yet.”
    I folded my arms and pressed
my fingers into my armpits. He was right. But I didn’t trust myself not to
touch him again if I kept my hand on his thigh. Thank goodness we were only a
few miles from home.
    ****
    Coben opened the door and
flicked on the hall light.
    I stepped in behind him and
kicked off my heels.
    There was a sudden bang. A
slam. He’d pushed the door up, hard.
    “Cobe—”
    His lips were over mine, his
hands in my hair. The cool wall pressed against my shoulders as he backed me
up.
    I swept my tongue into his
mouth, giving as good as he gave. Damn the taste of him, the urgency flowing
off him in waves. It was enough to make my knickers wet and my nipples peak
against the inside of my bra.
    “Tease,” he said, kissing over
my cheek, then nibbling my earlobe.
    “I’m not…” I gasped as I clung
to his biceps. Through his jacket I could feel they were tense, bulging. “I
didn’t touch you again in the car.”
    “Just by being there, next to
me…” He paused as he cupped my right breast. “Just by wearing this sexy fucking
dress you’ve teased me all evening.”
    “What this tatty old thing?” I
grinned, then groaned as he massaged my breast—not hard, but not gently either,
just the way he knew I liked.
    “Well if it’s that old and
tatty it should come off.” He stooped, gripped the hem, then pulled it up.
Luckily there was no zip and the material slid easily over my head.
    He tossed it over his shoulder
and it landed half on the floor, half draped over a potted plant that stood in
a large burgundy vase.
    “Fuck…” he muttered, his
attention landing on the new cerise underwear I’d opted to wear beneath the
tight black dress. “That’s so fucking hot.”
    He kissed me again, pushing
his erection against my belly. I had the feeling the underwear wouldn’t be
staying on for long.
    His touch skimmed down my
sides, dipping into my waist, then over the slight flare of my hips. My skin
felt on fire, his palms leaving a trail of need and delicious sensation. I
wanted him to touch me, all over, and never stop.
    I pushed at his jacket,
shoving it over his shoulders.
    He released me, shrugged out
of it and let it land on the floor, instantly forgotten despite its price tag.
    The next thing I knew I was in
his arms, pressed up against his chest, and he was marching up the staircase. I
stared at his face. He had a look of sheer determination. Like a predator who’d
captured his prey. A Neanderthal who’d snared his woman.
    He kicked the door to the
bedroom open and dropped me on the bed. I bounced and let out a squeal.
    “Strip,” he said, undoing his
belt and quickly skimming it free of the loops. “Now.”
    I undid my