Chapter Eighty-Seven

I loved how delicately he stroked my skin under the conference table but spoke with confidence and pride. His hands were calm and collected while his voice was deep and composed. It reminded me of how he reacted in the sheets. Gentle yet controlling. He was the perfect blend of passion and dominance.

“Knowing I’d get to see you this afternoon has gotten me through my morning,” I confessed. “This week has been a long one for me, too.”

Mack snorted, holding his hand out toward his desk overflowing with papers. “You’re telling me.”

Wiping my hands with my napkin, I threw it in the container along with my plastic fork, grabbing his as well to toss in the trash.

“Come to my place tonight. Make my weekend,” he demanded, standing from his chair to head for his desk. He popped an Altoid in his mouth from his drawer to mask that terrible tuna smell and taste. He knew I wouldn’t kiss him with that stench coming from his breath.

I smiled while sitting down. He followed me, pulling his chair in