Taking the Score, NSFW Excerpt

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Warning! This excerpt is NSFW...

“Mr. Ka—uh, Brody?” she asked tentatively. “Are you okay?”

The sound came again, this time louder, and now that she was close, there was no doubt that it was Brody. Only he was definitely not hurt.

A groan disturbed the air. Full-throated, pleasure-tinged, threading an invisible line of need to the sensitive flesh between her thighs. A throb started up there, a sweet ache—oh God, there he went again. A deep, shuddering moan.

She turned away from the door, moving her back to greet the wall. Needing its support to keep her upright.

He was jerking off in the shower.

Oh. My. “Wow,” she whispered.

Acknowledging the fact tightened her nipples painfully. The pulse between her legs beat faster and joined the rhythm of her pounding heart. Instinctively, she moved her hand over her chest, seeking calm, but now that she had her hand on her breast, the action had a sensuous effect. Stroking her aching nipple produced short-term relief and a deep-seated need for more.

She dropped her hand like her breast was forbidden country. She couldn’t do that. Not here with her boss next door.

Her boss next door under a steamy spray with his big, rough hand stroking that monster cock.

Leave this room now. Forget what you heard.

Her feet seemed incapable of following her brain’s instructions. This was ridiculous. She shook her head, giving herself a mental shake, and stepped toward the door.

Uh-uh-mmmm-a.”

She stilled. Surely that was her imagination. Surely he had not just said her name. With that big hand wrapped around that big—

“Oh, Christ, Emma.”

She slumped against the wall, boneless, paralyzed at what she’d heard. Once might have been an accident, twice was the stuff of fantasies. His, apparently.

Hers, definitely.

Maybe it was a different Emma. Maybe he was fantasizing about his favorite Jane Austen novel. Right. Sure there had been odd moments in the office when she glanced up and found him staring at her from behind those sexy rims with an intense regard that made her sex tighten in need. But then he would look away as if it meant nothing.

However, things had changed. Lines had been hazed beyond recognition. She knew what he felt like inside her, how his beautiful cock was crafted to fill her emptiness. He had made her come hard, and last night, her dreams had been steamy and filled with him. She awoke sweating, humping her hand, her entire body on fire with want. Now he was using her in his fantasy. So flattering.

And arousing.

Unbearably arousing.

His next groan sounded louder, the shower tile’s amplification conspiring to crank up her own craving. What would he do if she walked in there, threw open the glass door, and stepped inside? Fell to her knees and took him in her mouth?

She squeezed her thighs together, desperate for relief. Aiming for completion without doing something so deliberate as touching herself. Look ma, no hands!

It was useless. The ache between her legs wouldn’t be soothed by damn Kegels. She should leave and down a quart of ice water. Douse it over her flaming skin.

But she didn’t. She couldn’t. Instead she pressed the heel of her hand against the part of her that begged for a salve. Yes. Better. Just a few rubs outside the boxers she had borrowed to ease the ache. Brody’s boxers, the thought of which merely hiked her desire. A couple of seconds of naughty indulgence, but damn…they were damp. And no touch had ever felt so good.

No touch but his.

Another moan from the shower went straight to her blooming clit. At this rate, a single press of her fingers to her bare, damp skin would do it. Get it done, then back to her day and her shitty life. As long as she heard the shower and those moans from within, she’d know he was otherwise occupied. Jerking off with her as the inspiration.

She slipped two fingers inside the boxers and delved between her swollen folds.

Ah, so good. She bit down on her lip to keep her moan from finding voice. The slick heat between her thighs increased with every slippery stroke of her fingers. Just a few more seconds, just a few more. The build so intense, almost there, almost—

Brody’s moans increased in volume, and the strangest notion overcame her. She wanted to hit it when he did. The idea took hold, and she slowed her stroke, bit back on her pleasure as she listened to his ratcheting up. For someone who always appeared so contained, he was shockingly vocal and uninhibited.

His moans built, the coil in her belly with it, and she knew he was about to go over. She clamped down on her lip as her orgasm gripped her, fueled by a lusty shout on the other side of the wall.

They came together, though only one of them realized how freakin’ fine that was.

Slumped against the wall, wrung out from her pleasure, she tried to ignore the pang of guilt in her chest at having used his private moment like that. But she had no time for regrets. She needed to pull herself together because any minute now, he would be out of the shower.

“Emma.”

Or, how about this very minute?

She jumped and removed her hand from her boxers as if she hadn’t actually had her hand between her legs. “Fake it ’til you make it” seemed apt right about now.

Brody stood before her, still wet, a towel loosely draped around his hips. Her mouth went bone-dry, though she’d be hard-pressed to credit the precise reason. Embarrassment, mounting panic, or the most impressive chest she’d ever had the fortune to see up close. A light thatch veed over his pecs, shading dark copper nipples. The hair continued down his stomach, arrowing through his taut abs like an unstoppable train on the way to his… Rawr.Stopping at the border of his towel, slung disruptively low, she swiftly raised her eyes.

She had worked at Score Property for three months, had mind-blowing sex with this man in a strip club, but this was the first time she had seen him shirtless. And now, she was shy.

“Hi,” she managed. Hi?

“Hello.”

“I—I was just looking for Kevin and he came in here and I thought I heard something.” It emerged in a run-on gush.

“Something?”

He rubbed a second towel through his dark hair and eyed her like he’d caught her in the act. Hand in the cookie jar-slash-boxer briefs, so to speak. Well, he needn’t be so judgy. After all, he’d been the one flogging the log in that shower.

Do not go there. Do. Not. Go.

Ah, hell. As had been demonstrated several times already this week, her brain was not the boss of her.

She went.

Her gaze dipped to the towel, willing it to fall, calling on her X-ray vision to discern the exact nature of that tented bulge behind that damp, fluffy hotel-quality cotton.

A well-used cock.

Not well-used enough, her dirty mind chimed in. How could he still be primed after that steamy shower release? Her eyes shot up to find his locked on hers like silver magnets.

“You thought you heard something?” he repeated in complete seriousness as if the something they were talking about was not his husky moaning of her name while he jacked off.

“Yes. From the bathroom.” She waved helpfully in that direction. “I thought you might have been…in pain.”

Those silver-gray orbs of light widened, followed by a slow mouth curl brightening his forbidding face. Just shy of a smile, it made her heart flutter madly. His gaze raked her body deliberately. With intent. In that moment, it was clear he knew that she knew exactly what had been going on in that shower.

Fantastic. Everyone was in the know.

“Well, it was a little painful for a while. But I soldiered through. How about you?”

“How about me what?”

“I might not be wearing my glasses, but I don’t need them to recognize a woman with her hand down her panties. Or boxers, as is the case here.”

“I—I…” Oh, shit. “You got me.”

That surprised him. He had expected denials, and while she was embarrassed as all get-out, she wasn’t a prude.

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