The Casual Rule by A.C. Netzel Page A

of our systems. Maybe once we do it, I’ll stop the daydreaming and I can get back to focusing on my career.
    I can’t lie to myself anymore. I’m horny as hell for him. I mean, look at him. It’s been a long time since I’ve been with a man. Five months. What if I suck? I’d still have to work with Ben on occasion. How mortifying would that be?
    I turn toward Ben, face him, hook one leg around him and pull him back on top of me. It’s a battle of the wills between my lusting body and my mind and there’s no doubt which one is going to win the war.
    “Yes,” I whisper. This is insane. I know I shouldn’t do this, but I don’t care. I’ll regret it later. Right now I want this man, every single fucking inch of him.
    “Bedroom?” he pants.
    “Second door down the hall.”
    He stands up from the couch, bends down and lifts me into his arms. My hands wrap around his neck as he carries me to my bedroom. Once we’re in my bedroom, he lowers me until my feet are back on the floor. I quickly open my nightstand drawer. I know there are some condom packets in the bottom of my drawer from back in the dark ages when I had sex. God knows, I don’t want Ben to meet BOB today. I discreetly dig out a condom packet and place it on top of my nightstand.
    My hands go straight to his shirt buttons, as I’m rushing to undress him before I lose my nerve.
    “Slow down, Julia. If I’m only going to have you once, we’re going to take our time.” He takes a step back and sits down on the bed. “Come here,” he murmurs.
    I walk nervously in-between his legs.
    “Give me your hands.”
    I hold my hands out to him. He takes hold of my wrists, unbuttoning each sleeve cuff and lets them go.
    “Unbutton your blouse,” he whispers, his eyes are fixed on mine, his pupils dilated.
    I take a step back. One by one, I slowly unbutton my blouse. I don’t know how Ben does it, instead of the embarrassment I should feel undressing in front of this man, I feel sexy, desired.
    I’m secretly thanking the Clean Laundry Gods for the fact that I washed my clothes this week. I’m wearing my good bra and panties and not my period week panties that I usually resort to when I’m too lazy to do the laundry.
    He exhales a long breath, running his index finger under his bottom lip. He stands up and steps in front of me, his arousal evident by the bulge in his jeans. I look up at him. He lightly runs his fingertip down my neck to the lace neckline of my bra, tracing the tops of the cups, lightly brushing against my breasts. I inhale deeply, close my eyes and relish in his touch.
    “Take off your shirt,” he orders.
    Slowly, I slide each sleeve over my shoulder and down the length of my arm until my shirt is off and in a pile at our feet. I’m standing in front of Ben in just my white lace bra and pencil skirt, peeking up at him thru my lashes. He tilts my chin up with his index finger and looks into my eyes.
    “You are stunning.”
    I look down to the floor. No one has ever made me feel as sensual as I feel right now, and I still have most of my clothes on. At this moment, I know I will do anything he asks.
    “Turn around, Julia.” His voice is soft and so, so sexy.
    I oblige without hesitation. He unzips my skirt, sliding it down over my hips until it falls to the floor. I step out of it. He wraps his arms around me, placing his hands over my bra, his hands cupping my breasts through the lace, as his erection presses into my backside.
    “I have pictured this since the first time we had dinner… my hands all over your incredible body. I couldn’t have imagined you’d look this fucking hot,” he whispers in my ear. I tilt my head back into his body, lifting my arms up, curling my fingers around the back of his neck. He slides his fingers down from the side of my breasts to my waist. He runs his hand across my stomach; his fingers barely gliding across the top of my panties. I’m tingling everywhere; the moisture between my legs is