Blake could not believe this day. He’d had a sleepless night, tossing and turning as he bounced from regret to confusion to renewed amusement back to regret like a volleyball being thrown around on the sand. While he’d tried to dismiss Andrea’s surprise visit without another thought, he couldn’t get her obvious intentions out of his mind. Which gave him a raging hard-on. Added to the tossing and turning, it was no wonder his night had been sleepless.

So he’d come in that morning to the office determined to make things right. He’d bought roses—Drea had told him several times in her instruction over the weeks that women tended to respond positively to flowers. Her reaction to his purchase, however, had him momentarily wondering if Andrea Dawson was indeed a woman.

Then they’d argued, and hell if every furious word that came out of her mouth didn’t tighten the crotch of his pants. She’d driven him from sorrowful and horny to pissed-the-fuck-off and horny. Now, through a sequence of events that surprised even him, he was making out with her and clawing at her clothing like a sex-starved maniac.

And the way her breasts pressed against his chest and her hips rocked against his pelvis, he only knew one thing for sure—Andrea Dawson was very definitely all woman.

He also knew this wasn’t ending anytime soon. There’d been too much buildup. Now that he’d begun with her, he couldn’t stop until he’d finished. Or they’d finished, rather. He’d always been a gentleman in that area.

Mouths still locked, he carried her over to the edge of her desk. He pulled away so he could slip off his jacket, half afraid that the break in contact would give her a moment to reconsider what they were doing.

He needn’t have feared. Drea leaned forward and clutched onto his tie. She pulled him back to her, back to her greedy mouth. As their kiss resumed, she worked the buckle on his pants. His cock leapt against his briefs in eager anticipation. Dictated by that eagerness, his hands pushed her skirt up past her thighs. Then his fingers were dancing over the crotch of her panties.

With a great amount of willpower, he paused, stepping back to gauge her reaction and assure his venture was approved. Sure he was a man who took what he wanted, but even in his lust-filled haze he recognized the impropriety of the situation. A boss banging his employee in the middle of the office? He better at least have her permission.

With a brow raised in question, his eyes met hers.

She answered quick and sure. “Touch me, Blake Donovan.” Her voice was thick with desire. He stared at her, unblinking. “I said, touch me!”

Never in his life had Blake been given orders during sex.

It was the most goddamn sexy thing he’d ever heard.

He snapped back into position, pulled like a magnet by her command. One of his hands grabbed a fistful of curls, and they were just as soft as he’d imagined. Even better was the breathy gasps she made as he tugged on them. He wanted to explore her body, cup and squeeze her breasts until her nipples hardened to twin peaks. Strip her of all her clothing and stare at her flushed skin.

But this was frantic and unplanned. And in the office. Not a time for savoring, and with Andrea now working on the zipper of his pants and the echo of her touch me playing in his ears, he felt obligated to return his fingers to the apex of her thighs.

Sliding beneath the crotch of her panties, he trailed his finger along the top of her cleft, so near to where he knew she wanted him yet so far away. Her hand stilled at the waistband of his briefs as he taunted her. “Is this where?” His tone was low and gravelly as his thumb settled in her nest to find her clit. “Is this where you want me to touch you?”

She didn’t make him ask again. “Yes.” Andrea wriggled under his touch. “Yes, please, yes.”

He swirled his thumb against the swollen bud, watching her reaction as he exerted differing pressures. When her breathing grew heavier and her grip on his hair tightened, he felt sure that he’d discovered exactly what it was that she liked. And her expression—lids half closed, her face tightened into a look of impending pleasure—it was almost enough to get him off without anything else. He had to look away.

Returning his attention to his actions, he splayed his fingers like he was holding a bowling ball, one playing at her bud while he slid two digits down to test her hole. Ah, she was wet. So wet. And tight. But he was sure she was wet enough to take care of that. He could slip in now, certain she was ready to accommodate him. Yet he could sense she was close and even though he knew this wasn’t an occasion to indulge, he wanted her to come apart all over him. For him.

Even in the throes of passion he recognized that this was absurd overthinking for a quick office shag. Damn, this woman …

She was amazing.

In awe, he watched as she reached the edge and spilled over, her muscles tensing and quivering with her climax, her voice crying out with the sound of his name.

Crying out! What if she was heard? In a split second he wondered if his office walls were soundproof or if his secretary had left for her lunch break yet. Then simply decided the matter could be handled another way.

Gripping her behind the neck, he pulled Andrea toward him and sealed his mouth over hers, swallowing her sounds. He should have been doing this the whole time. Her kisses were incredible. She tasted like coffee and the caramels she didn’t know he knew she hid in her desk for when she skipped lunch and needed a sugar fix. It was delicious.

He continued to kiss her through her orgasm, until she’d relaxed in his embrace. For one split second, he feared that now that she’d gotten her release, she’d return to her senses and push him off her. Wouldn’t that be a kicker?

Those fears were quickly relieved when her hand settled on his erection and squeezed. “Your turn, Tiger.”

Hell, yes.

Blake pulled his hand from Andy’s core and circled his arm around her waist, intending to lean her backward on the desk. Then some small voice in the back of his head told him he should be making a bit more of an effort for this girl, so he lifted her by the buttocks, urging her legs around his waist, and carried her close against him over to the wingback chair—the same one he’d interviewed her in. Fitting, he thought briefly.

After all, it was sort of bad form to screw the matchmaker on top of her piles of potential matches. The voice told him that wasn’t the only bit of bad form going on, but he told that voice to go to hell, because bad form had never felt better.

He sat in the chair and pulled her down on top of him. Her curls tumbled around his face, filling his nostrils with the apple scent of her. It was intoxicating. He buried his mouth in her neck and relished the way kissing her there made her squirm against him. Grabbing the top of her panties, he pulled them down her thighs. She braced herself against his shoulders, lifting one knee and then another to help him slide them all the way off. Then it was her turn to maneuver his pants and briefs far enough down to release his cock.

Finally. There was nothing left between them.

Blake pulled back and gazed into those green-flecked eyes. If they did this, there was no going back. Andrea stared back at him. The moment lasted forever, until she gave him one of those wicked grins.

“Do me,” she said.

He intuitively sensed that laughing at her sexy talk wouldn’t go over well, so he bent his head and hid his smile while he fumbled in his pant pocket for the condom in his wallet. After it was rolled on, he finally allowed himself to gaze at her pussy.

“Oh, that is beautiful.” His thumb gently slipped between her folds to stroke the bud he’d already become familiar with by touch. Then he lined up against her opening. She let out a strangled moan and sank down, taking him into her. As he’d predicted, she was so wet, so tight around him, and Blake worried for a moment he was going to come immediately, like a teenager. He held her in place until he’d regained enough control to move inside her.