Change in Strategy: An Office Romance (Change of Hearts Book 2)

by Sierra Hill

  “If you knew the dirty, filthy thoughts going through my head right now, you’d know it’s just craziness. Over you, baby. It’s also out of selfishness. I want these issues handled quickly because I want nothing more than to have you back in Los Angeles with me.”

  She ruminates over this for a moment and then throws me for a loop with her next question.

  “Brody, why did I find you with another woman this morning so soon after you left me in bed?”

  Chapter 31

  Peyton

  The contortion of Brody’s facial expression, which morphs from sexy to shaken in a nanosecond, would almost be comical were it not a serious matter.

  “Who, Charlotte?”

  Charlotte? That name. Who is she and what are the chances she’s the same woman I heard being discussed last night while I was in the bathroom?

  I shrug. “I don’t know. Pretty brunette. Very touchy-feely. I’d been looking all over for you and you weren’t in your room, so I tried your phone. I wanted to tell you in person what was going on but when I saw you in the restaurant, it looked…intimate.”

  His head snaps back, appalled by the insinuation. “What? No. We were only having a business meeting about distribution channels to Europe. It couldn’t have been further from intimate. I barely even know her.”

  I blink, trying to keep tears at bay. “I only know what I saw. And it just stung knowing you could so easily leave me in bed after we spent the night together to have breakfast with another woman. A beautiful woman. Who seemed very comfortable in your presence.”

  Brody scrubs a hand down his face, shaking it slightly, as if to ward off an impending headache. Maybe I was giving him a headache with my accusation.

  “You evidently didn’t read the note I wrote you before I left your room?”

  “Note? No. I didn’t see anything.”

  “You were sleeping so peacefully – did you know that you smile in your sleep, by the way?” he chuckles, running his knuckles down my arm. “I didn’t want to wake you and didn’t want a text notification to wake you, so I wrote a note and left it on the credenza near the door. It mentioned how sweet and sexy you looked, and that if I’d had my way and didn’t have business to attend to, I would’ve woken you up by slipping inside you from behind.”

  My eyes flare wide because that is the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard. And to think, he put it into words for me to find. I really wish I would’ve seen it.

  “Oh wow. That sounds…naughty.” I suck on my bottom lip and turn a coy smile on him. “And sweet, too.”

  “It was the truth. I also mentioned that I had a business breakfast and asked you to find me before my presentation. But none of that happened and I can’t help but think that some of this misunderstanding could have been avoided if you’d found that note.”

  We both sit on the weight of that. In my hurry this morning after not finding Brody in the room and then listening to my mom’s message, I got showered and packed with lightning speed, missing it altogether.

  Brody tugs me into the curve of his body, nestling me against him like we’re two puzzle pieces that click, fitting perfectly together.

  “Yeah, probably. See? Hot mess.” I point at my chest in self-deprecating humor. Brody grabs my finger and brings it to his mouth, biting the tip before slipping it between his teeth, the velvety soft flat of his tongue gliding along my finger, somehow shooting tingles straight to the juncture between my legs.

  “I’m kind of infatuated with this hot mess.”

  And then he drags my finger out of his mouth and drops our hands to our laps. First, he places our entwined hands over his crotch, covering his now very thick bulge. I watch entranced as he closes his eyes on a groan. Then he moves our hands to the center of my shorts, swirling my wet finger over the material before he cups my mound.

  “I don’t want to presume to know how you feel about us, or where you see this going, but I can’t stop thinking about you. Or last night and how it felt to be inside you. I want it again. And again, and again, and again.” Brody emphasizes each word with a kiss on my cheek.

  My heart flips and flops inside my chest, banging out its response, “Yes, yes, yes.”

  Hovering my mouth over his, our lips meet and mesh wildly. A husky groan escapes his chest and every part of my body relaxes into the sound. His kiss is not only calming, but it is kerosene dousing across my body. His tongue entering my parted lips to sweep inside is the match that lights the fire.

  I grope at the collar of his shirt, working to slip my hand down the back so I can feel his skin against my palm.

  As if reading where my mind has wandered, Brody’s hand leaves my backside and begins carelessly unbuttoning his shirt, quickly discarding it on the floor. His face splits into a big smile.

  “Does that help matters?”

  The blush blooms wildly from my cheeks, meandering down my neck and to my chest. The air in my lungs seems to stall as I trail my fingers over his broad shoulders, feeling every inch of his masculinity. My eyes flicker appreciatively as they scan down his chest, the dark thicket of hair leading from his navel to the waistband of his pants.

  An eager hum whirs in my belly as my finger finds its way down the trail. While I fumble with his button and zipper, Brody’s lips find the hollow of my throat, his tongue running over the skin there as we both grow hungrier and more desperate to see where this leads.

  Okay, I know where it’s going to lead. Right into my bedroom.

  But it’s the journey that’s exciting. The exploration I get to do with his body as he’s a willing participant and so generous and patient with me as I learn every nuance of his body and what he likes and what turns him on.

  I wedge my hand down the front of his pants, burrowing under his underwear as Brody scoots forward on the couch to give me room as I reach the intended target. The velvety smooth head of his cock strains proudly in my hand, as I wrap my fingers around it and marvel at its weight.

  Rolling a finger over the head like I did last night, I tentatively bring it to my mouth, the tip of my tongue dragging across my fingertip as Brody watches with half-lidded arousal.

  I suck it into my mouth and Brody lets out a pure animalistic groan before he lifts me in his arms and begins walking us down the hallway.

  “Which room is yours?” he asks, his voice gruff with desire.

  “That one.” I point to the left, and he pushes us through the door. It’s dark now and hard to make anything out except the bed, which he dumps me on unceremoniously and reaches over to flip on the small accent light. It floods the room with a warm yellow glow.

  I stare up at him, as he looks me over with a hunger in his eyes that seers through me and melts everything in its path.

  “What are you thinking about?” I ask him because he hasn’t moved.

  A dangerous smile curls at the corners of his lips and it sends shivers down my legs. He straddles me on the bed, both knees at my hips and bends low to whisper in my ear. His warm breath caresses my skin and sends zings of pleasure to my clit.

  “You really want to know the answer to that?”

  “Yes. Tell me.” I squirm under him and he grabs my arms, lifts them over my head and holds me firmly in place.

  “I’m thinking about whether I should flip you over on your stomach, lift up your ass and fuck you from behind,” he bites at my earlobe. “Or, if I should spread your legs wide, eat your pussy out until your throat is so raw from screaming and then bang you so hard and for so long that your neighbors will think you’re watching a porn movie marathon.”

  I giggle at this notion, but get a secret thrill out of his naughty suggestive description.

  “I’ll take both, please.”

  He grunts and thrusts his hips into me, grinding between my legs like a dancer in the Magic Mike movie.

  “Overachiever.” Brody kisses me soundly before sliding down my legs and off the bed so he’s kneeling on the floor.

  Wrapping his hands around my ankles, he y
anks me forward, so I’m spread-eagled and my crotch is right at his mouth. Brody makes fast work of my shorts, sliding them down and off my legs until I’m left only in my panties. He runs his knuckles over the silky panel at the center and I nearly come on contact. He slips a finger inside, grabbing the edges on both sides and pinching them together so it causes a wedgie over my crease.

  And holy goodness, when he tugs it tighter and the material is pulled taut over my clit, I gasp on a shaky inhale, the sensation of the satin and his fingers having me so close to coming I want to scream.

  “Brody, touch me,” I plead because all he’s doing right now is teasing me unmercifully.

  He tsks. “My, my, my. Aren’t we the bossy pants tonight? And here I thought I was the boss between us.”

  I press myself up onto my elbows to get a better view and watch as he swipes a lick over the folds. Close enough to the spot but not on contact and I growl out a whine of displeasure. He chuckles and bites the inside of my thigh.

  “What do you want me to do, Miss Bossy-boss?” His eyes flare darkly.

  “Suck and use your tongue.”

  Brody sucks the spot where he just nibbled my thigh and then runs his tongue over it.

  I’m to the point of exasperation. If I don’t get what I need soon, I’m about to lose it.

  “Not there,” I wail, flopping my head back against the bed and slapping at the bed sheets. His chin stubble rubs deliciously against the spot when he chuckles.

  “Oh, you mean like this.”

  And then he proceeds to give me exactly what he knew I wanted from him all along. His tongue unleashes a torrent of pleasure until I’m calling out his name in release, as my body shatters beautifully against his mouth.

  And at the same time, I feel my heart slowly cracking from the same intensity, knowing this thing with Brody isn’t meant to last. And once my internship is done, I’ll be back in Phoenix, back to reality, and there will be no more Brody.

  Chapter 32

  Brody

  I roll over and catch the light scent of Peyton’s shampoo lingering on her pillow and the smell of coffee brewing in the kitchen.

  It’s enough to get me out of bed, which we made good use of last night, and make my way into the small kitchen around the corner. Her back is to me as she leans over the countertop, her elbows propping her up and her head bent over reading something on her laptop. I can’t resist the urge to sneak up behind her and run a hand up her smooth, tanned legs.

  I don’t know who is more surprised: Peyton, who startles, or me when my exploration finds her pantyless underneath the shirt she put on to cover up this morning.

  My shirt.

  She wears it with effortless female sexuality.

  “God you look so sexy,” I murmur into her ear, reaching the juncture between her thighs as I kiss her cheek. “You look fucking hot in my T-shirt.”

  I slip my fingers between her folds, as she rears back, her ass crashing against my erection and she grinds her hips in an erotic rhythm. She throws her hands up and behind my head, threading her fingers tightly into my hair.

  “It feels so good to have something of yours on my body.”

  I hum against her neck, sucking and licking the exposed skin within my reach.

  “Does it now? I’m sure I can provide you with something else to put in your body.”

  She rolls her head back into my bare chest and laughs, but her giggle turns into a moan as I slide a finger inside her wet heat. And then I add another.

  With rapid, shallow thrusts, my fingers glide in and out of her as I rock my hips into her backside, pinning her against the counter. She drops an arm and wedges it between us, cupping my cock in her soft warm hand.

  I’ve lived solo for several years now and my hookups never stay the night. This moment standing in Peyton’s kitchen is so intimate and perfect. Something I never thought I’d enjoy again with another woman after my ex-wife left. I didn’t realize how much I love the spontaneity of lazy Sunday morning groping.

  Peyton’s hand reaches inside my shorts and slides her hand along the length of my shaft, gripping it tightly at the base and pumps. I buck against her hand on instinct, seeking more friction. My balls ache and my cock throbs like an angry bull between us, wanting to surge through the barrier of my shorts and inside her tight pussy.

  And I could, right now. I could slide down my shorts, take my cock in hand while I bent her over and plunge inside her. Peyton mentioned last night between satisfying rounds of glorious fucking that she was on birth control, but I still used a condom. We’re not there yet in our relationship although I know it would feel so fucking good.

  I use my free hand to grip her jaw and turn her head so I can kiss her plump lips. She tastes like oranges and her tongue like coffee. I suck hard, extracting a moan from her mouth and a grind of her pussy against my palm. I use my thumb to rub the hard cleft of her clit, circling it with the pressure I’ve learned she enjoys so much.

  She pants unevenly, breathlessly pulling her lips from mine and her grip on my cock tightens as I feel her begin to stiffen and then tremble.

  “Brody, I’m coming.” She lets out a ragged breath, and I press down a little harder, feeling her spasm around my fingers.

  “That’s it, baby. Give me everything.”

  Her body trembles and then seems to sag against me, depleted once again. Her hand continues to stroke my length, which strains in her grip, desperate for more.

  “That was so good,” she mutters, a lazy grin stretched across her face. “I had no idea.”

  I chuckle and turn her around in my arms, sealing her mouth with mine in a wet, scorching kiss.

  “Brody,” she murmurs against my lips. “I want you inside me.”

  She shoves my briefs down to my ankles, leaving my dick pointing upward in favor of this current situation.

  “I don’t have a condom on me right now,” I reply, my voice as strained as my cock. “Let’s go back to the bedroom.”

  I try to step back and she shakes her head, her thumb skating over the taut head, whisking away a pearl of pre-cum. She slides her grip down to the root and back to the crown.

  “I want you now, just like this.”

  In the fog of my sex-induced brain drain, I’m not sure I understand exactly what she’s asking, but my dick seems to understand as it throbs and pulses, hot with want.

  Peyton steps in, slips the T-shirt off and I immediately focus on her breasts, and the sweet cotton candy pink of her nipples that seem to match her dyed hair. I swipe my tongue over the nipple as she guides my cock to her entrance.

  “Like this, Brody. Just like this.”

  Oh fuck.

  I’m done for.

  The gentle give of her wet, greedy cunt is like a siren’s call to a sailor out at sea. Beckoning me in. The tip of my cock disappears inside her folds and I can’t stop the bolts of arousal and sharp pinching ache in my balls. My body reacts with the eagerness of a teenage boy.

  I clasp my hands underneath her ass cheeks and lift her up, spinning us around and slamming her against the refrigerator for leverage. She gasps, but I suck it down, covering her mouth with mine as I push inside.

  There is nothing. I repeat, nothing better than being inside Peyton without a barrier. And I know for certain I won’t last more than a few minutes, if that.

  “Hold on tight, baby. It’s going to get rough.”

  To express her appreciation, she loops her arms around my neck and sifts her fingers through my hair, locking her to me. And then I let loose, bracing her in my arms and finding purchase with strong legs holding her to me.

  I’m blinded by the white-hot pleasure of feeling her bare pussy clutching around my cock, hearing her husky moans with each punch of my hips and glide of my cock entering and leaving her body. She closes her eyes and her lips fall open as she comes, as I continue to hammer my way to my own release.

  As expected, my orgasm comes flooding down my spine, the tightening of my balls the tellt
ale sign I’m about to come. My cock jerks one last time as I pump inside, filling her with my release.

  After I’ve spilled every last drop and my body floats back to earth, I gently ease out of her dripping core and drop her down to her bare feet. My eyes scan the counter for something we can use to use to clean up, finding the paper towel roll and ripping off two squares.

  Once done, we stare at each other in awe. Peyton’s face is flushed a pretty pink, soft and warm. And all I want to do is take her back to bed and do that again, getting up only for food.

  But we’re interrupted with the sound of a key in the lock.

  “Oh shit. It’s Kyler. Hurry, we need to get out of here!”

  She grabs my hand and we run back to her bedroom, both laughing when we hear Kyler in the kitchen mentioning the unmentionables we left on the floor.

  And it’s the perfect start of our Sunday before we have to face the reality of Monday.

  Chapter 33

  Peyton

  Brody flew back to L.A. early Monday morning because he had meetings already scheduled that he couldn’t miss, while I stayed back to help my mom finalize things with her restraining order, which included contacting the attorney that Brody had arranged for us.

  We talked several times a day and I swooned every time we said goodbye. I’m a fool to think that seeing him in the office every day is going to be easy on our relationship.

  When I return to the office on Wednesday, I head directly to Jessica’s office to discuss my absence and assure her it won’t happen again.

  “Good morning, Jessica. Thanks for meeting with me.”

  I step into her sprawling corner office, noticing the photos on her desk of her and her wife and children. They look beautiful and happy, and free to love one another in the way they should. Just as I hope Kyler can do someday when he finds that perfect someone.

  It makes my heart squeeze and spasm, wilting a little with the knowledge that the feelings I’ve developed for Brody, and that I think he’s reciprocating with me, can’t be shared openly or acknowledged while I’m still in my internship. And even after I’m no longer under this obligation, it’s still an unknown whether this affair can continue.