“See you getting fucked?” I whispered harshly against her ear.
Her neck arched.
“See you stretched?”
Win cried out loudly, her pussy squeezing my cock so tight I nearly came.
Once she was finished, I pulled out and moved her away from the glass to set her on the edge of my desk. I dropped to my knees and covered her pussy with my mouth, licking as deep as I could. Shifting up to suck and nip at her clit, I finger fucked her.
Her hips rocked against me, demanding more with no hint of shame. She watched, her eyes hooded and dark. They went glazed and unfocused as she came again.
The taste was even sweeter than the memory.
Standing back up, I pulled her ass as close to the edge as I could. I reached back to tug every clip out of her hair, letting it fall wildly. Fisting it, I pushed my cock back into her. Hard.
So hard, in fact, Win’s hands slipped on the desk and knocked over a stack of papers and a pen cup.
“Sorry,” she said breathlessly.
“It’s fine,” I grunted in return. She could’ve pushed every last thing off, and I’d have just been grateful for more space to take her on.
Out to the tip, I slammed back in. Over and over. Losing my rhythm, my pace, my fucking mind, I fucked her with a wild savagery that only she’d ever brought out in me.
I came, nearly dropping to my knees with the intensity of it. Once I was finished, though, I did drop back onto my chair, taking her with me. I was still deep inside her as she straddled me.
Her fingernails skimmed through my hair as we silently caught our breath. Once I felt like I could walk again, I gently moved her off me. I padded across the room to my private bathroom, quickly dealing with the condom before returning to my chair.
As soon as I sat, Win climbed back into my lap, her fingers returning to my hair.
Nearly asleep, my eyes caught the paper on my desk. I leaned forward to snatch it up. It was a cute and strangely sexy, drawing that read ‘Winnie Mae need to apologize’.
“Winnie Mae?” I asked.
“Me,” she mumbled. “I draw a web cartoon about my life and antics.”
“That’s way more interesting than working for the government and Smith, Lee, and Jones.”
“Yeah.” Win’s smile was happy and satisfied. “I just got a book deal. That’s why I had to leave so early last week. I’m on a deadline. Otherwise, I’d probably have stuck around. And not just because I’m not a morning person. I also happen to love whenever-the-hell-I-wake-up sex.” She pursed her lips to the side. “That’s not as catchy as ‘morning sex’ is.”
“Maybe not, but still noted.” I looked at the drawing again, making a mental note to get a frame for it.
“My full name is Winifred Mae Hynes, but almost everyone calls me Winnie.” She was quick to tack on, “Except you call me Win, and I like that, so don’t stop.”
“Also noted.”
“Anyway, I started drawing these goofy comics because, as I’m sure you’re shocked to learn, I get myself into all sorts of hijinks.”
“What? No,” I deadpanned.
“I know. It’s a revelation.” She tapped the corner of the picture. “Each one ends with something Winnie Mae needs to do, or has, or whatever. Like when we were talking about tiny, weird dicks, it was from a comic about unsolicited dick pics. It ended with ‘Winnie Mae need to delete her online dating apps’. Get it?”
Jealousy settled in my chest as I practically growled, “Oh, Winnie definitely needs to do that.”
Win looked unfazed by the demand. “Already done. And not just because of the weird dicks. I’m a one dude kinda girl. Old fashioned. Yup, very traditional about getting fucked against a giant window by only one man.”
Maybe I should tell her they’re treated so no one can see inside?
Nah, that’d take the fun out of next time.
She pinched my nipple. “This is when you follow up with your declaration of being a one woman kinda guy… Hint, hint.”
I grabbed her hand, pulling it up to kiss her palm. “I’m a one-woman man, but I have no control if that one woman is actually two.” Tapping her Winnie Mae tattoo, I corrected myself. “Or three.”
“Meh,” she said with a shrug, “you’ve been good at rolling with it so far.”
When her lips pressed together as she looked at the paper, I wondered if she was having second thoughts.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
Looking at me, Win’s eyes were warm and hooded. She shifted back and forth just slightly, the hair on my chest rubbing against her nipples.
I hardened fully against her wetness and she rocked her hips along my length.
“What?” I asked again.
“Does this mean we won’t be able to have phone sex anymore?”
I burst out laughing, pulling her mouth to mine while I was still doing it.
“I was serious,” she said against my lips, but I could feel her smile.
“Yes, we’ll still have phone sex,” I reassured her. “Even if it means one of us just has to go into a different room.”
She slumped in exaggerated relief. “Phew. Thank goodness for that.”
Gripping her hips, I tried to shift her closer, but she shook her head and shimmied off my lap to stand.
When I kept hold, she smiled. “It’s not a repeat disappearing act, I swear. But if you want to go to dinner tonight, I have to get home and get my work done.”
“Dinner?”
She almost looked nervous as she nodded.
“I’ll pick you up at seven,” I said softly, releasing my hold after shifting to lick from her navel to between her tits.
I redressed before leaning against the front of my desk to watch as she finished up. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous.”
Win grinned. “Yeah, but don’t get used to me in dresses. This is the only one I have, and it’s not even mine.” She smoothed it down. “See you tonight,” she said, lifting to kiss me quickly as she pulled the blazer on. She didn’t look as professional as she had when she came in. Instead, she looked freshly fucked and happy.
“Can’t wait,” I called to her retreating back.
I had no clue what the future would bring. But I got the distinct feeling Winnie Mae make it fun.
Meet the authors
Sarah O’Rourke
Sarah O’Rourke is the alter ego of two best friends who have taken their passion for romantic & erotic fiction to the publishing world. Born and raised in the southern United States, one lives near Nashville, Tennessee, while the other resides in Atlanta, Georgia. Neither is ever very far from a tall glass of sweet iced tea, their dog-eared copies of Gone With the Wind, or their Amazon one-click button!
Brynne Asher
Brynne Asher lives in the Midwest with her husband, three children, and her perfect dog. When she isn’t creating pretend people and relationships in her head, she’s running her kids around, and doing laundry. She enjoys cooking, decorating, shopping at outlet malls and online, always seeking the best deal. A perfect day in Brynne World ends in front of an outdoor fire with family, friends, s’mores, and a delicious cocktail.
Sarah Curtis
Sarah Curtis is pseudonym of my kids’ names. I’m a 47 year-old mother of two, grandma of 2 and live with my husband of 30 years in Southern California.
I write steamy contemporary romance novels about sexy alpha males and the heroines who steal their hearts.
I’m addicted to coffee, Red Bull, Lay’s potato chips, and ice cream. When I’m not writing (which is hardly ever, hence the addiction to coffee and Red Bull) I enjoy spending time with my family, reading, and watching football (Go Pack Go!).
Layla Frost
Layla Frost has always been a rebel. A true badass.
Growing up, Layla used to hide under her blanket with a flashlight to read the Sweet Valley High books she pilfered from her older sister. It wasn’t long before she was reading hidden Harlequins during class at school. This snowballed into pulling all-nighters after the promise of “just one more chapter”.
Her love of reading, especially the romance genre, took root early and has grown immeasurably.
In between reading and writing, Layla spends her free time rocking out(at concerts, on the couch, in the car… Anywhere is a stage if you get into it enough), watching TV(the nerdier the better!), and being a foodie. Though she lives in NY(the state, not the city), she’s an avid Red Sox fan.
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