Crush by Cydney Michele; Rax Lutishia; Grant Lovely

early this morning. I really didn’t want the morning-after, note-on-the-pillow vibe to linger so I thought I’d—”
    “Track me down and disrupt my day?” I said with a smile so he knew I wasn’t angry.
    “Exactly. How am I doing?” He reached out and tucked a wayward strand of hair behind my ear.
    My eyes threatened to close and I forced them open, giving him a decidedly “melty” look. “You can’t touch me like that here.”
    “No?” he said softly, his hand drifting down my shoulder to rest above my heart. “Beating so fast, Jayla? Embarrassed again?”
    I took a step back and fashioned a glare at him. “Hey, do I come to your workplace and make you want to get naked?” Realizing I had done just that, I blushed as he started laughing. “Okay, bad question—but you know what I mean.”
    He nodded. “Yes, you have to separate buttoned-up ‘professional Jayla’ from ‘riding on my tongue begging for more Jayla.’ ” His eyes darkened in remembrance as he finished talking.
    I leaned forward to rest my head on his chest. “You aren’t helping.”
    He reached his hand down under my hem and slid his hand upward, shifting my panties to the side and sliding two fingers into my slit. He groaned. “You are soaking wet.”
    “You make me that way,” I whispered, traced my fingers across his hardness currently twitching in his pants. Just like that, less than two minutes and we’ve gone from zero to sixty.
    He flicked his thumb across me and I pressed my mouth into his shirt to keep from crying out. “Do you want me to make you come real quick?” he whispered in my ear, his thumb now moving in quick circles. His lips found a crazy-sensitive spot on my neck and he nuzzled it gently. My breath hitched as I felt more liquid gush out over his hand. “You only have to say the words, Jayla.”
    Here I was, at work—not ten feet from my staff and supervisors—and for the first time in a long time, my job was not the most important thing in my world. Five days ago, I hadn’t known anything about this man, yet right this second he and what he could do were the only things that mattered. “Oh God, do it.”
    “What do you want me to do, baby?” he teased, sliding his middle finger inside of me.
    “Do it, Jason. Make me come,” I begged.
    His thumb pressed once, twice on my sensitized button while his middle finger circled, hitting all the angles inside my walls.
    “Yes!” I bit out before bringing his lips to mine as the orgasm slammed into me. He swallowed my cries as he kept up the pressure to let me ride out the pleasure as long as possible. Finally, I lifted my head and gasped for breath. “You’re going to be the death of me,” I said as he withdrew his hand. I grabbed some Kleenex and bottled water from the desk.
    As I cleaned off his hand, he smiled. “But you’d die happy.”
    I smiled before noticing his still-impressive erection straining against the zipper. “Oh Jason, I’m so sorry. What about you?”
    He shrugged. “You can make it up to me tonight.”
    I looked up. “What’s tonight?”
    “That’s actually what I came by for,” he grinned ruefully. “To ask you out on a ‘real date.’ Got a little sidetracked.”
    “Me, too.” I grinned back. “Sure, did you have something in mind?”
    “Thought I’d take you to a great little jazz club / martini bar that I know.”
    Something in his tone caught my attention. “Just happen to know a spot, do you?”
    He shrugged modestly. “Okay, I own it—will you come with me?”
    As if I could say no to anything he suggested. “Sure, why not? What’s your specialty martini?”
    He smiled. “White Mochatini.”
    Of course it was. “How can I refuse?”
    “I really don’t know,” he said with a smile. “Pick you up at eight?”
    “I’ll be ready.”

11
    Date Night
    Jason had been more physically and emotionally intimate with this woman in the last few days than he had been with anyone else in his life . . . ever. But