“Good. Now stop moving like that before I lose my shit and come all over my own stomach.”

Laughing, I sat back as he reached over to his nightstand drawer for a condom. “Let me,” I said, taking it from him.

He lay back on his elbows and watched me open the packet and place the condom over just the tip. Then, hoping to make the opening act of my show more memorable, I leaned forward and used my mouth to slowly push it all the way down, teasing his nipples with my fingertips while I worked. When I picked my head up, Griffin’s jaw was practically on his chest.

“Where the fuck did you learn that?”

I smiled like a Cheshire cat. “Boarding school.”

“There were boys at your boarding school?”

“Hell, no.” I positioned myself above him, and slowly slid down the length of his cock. “But you’d be surprised how dirty a group of seventeen-year-old girls stuck in a dorm with some smuggled condoms and a bunch of bananas can get. And then there were all the fantasies I cooked up when I was alone in bed at night.”

He grabbed my ass as his cock twitched inside me. “Tell me.”

“Well, I don’t know,” I teased in a campy Southern belle accent. I covered my breasts with my hands—added bonus, it made them look bigger and perkier—and went on, “I’m actually quite shy. I mostly just spend all my time alone in my room. But I’ve seen you in town at the service station, and I just love the way you”—I leaned forward here for effect, making my voice more breathy—“pump your gasoline.”

“Yeah?” Beneath me, his hips began to flex.

“Yes. It does something to me, watching your hands at work.” I piled my hair on the top of my head, circling my hips in a sinuous motion. “I dream about having those hands on me.”

Griffin slid his palms up my sides and over my breasts, his breath coming hard and fast. Then he slid one hand down my stomach and used his thumb on my clit.

“Yes, just like that,” I breathed. “And I admit I’ve stared at you like a good girl shouldn’t. I’ve wondered about your body beneath your clothes. I imagined what it would be like to undress in front of you. Where it might lead.”

Griffin’s breathing had become even more labored, his cock even thicker inside me. His thumb moved over my clit with quick, insistent strokes, making my entire body radiate with desire.

“Then I snuck into your bedroom tonight,” I whispered. “I know it was wrong of me, I know I’ll be punished, but when I saw you sleeping there naked, something just came over me. I had to have you.” I placed my hands on his chest, playing with his nipples again, plucking at them, running my fingers over the ink on his skin, sliding my palms over his rippling abs. “Your body makes me swoon. All those muscles and tattoos, the way you move. And this”—I stopped, clenching my core muscles around him—“this. I took one look at your big, hard cock and knew I had to have it. I had to feel it. I had to make you come inside me, or else I’d go crazy.”

“Fuck,” he growled.

I knew he was close. I was too.

Time for the finale.

I moved my hands to my breasts, caressing them sensuously. “And I’ll confess something else—something so wicked I don’t even want to say it out loud—but sometimes I touch myself, and I pretend it’s you. Just like you’re touching me now. And something happens inside me, and it feels so good I never want it to stop, and I beg you to fuck me—harder, yes, yes, yes, like that”—as Griffin began to rock his hips more violently beneath mine, I fell forward, my hands braced on the headboard—“I beg you not to stop because I want to come all over your cock, and then you—”

But that’s as far as I got before Griffin’s climax hit and he erupted inside me, groaning long and hard as his cock surged again and again. It set off fireworks in me, and I rode out another earth-shattering orgasm, crying out with every impossibly blissful swell and sighing as the last, rapturous pulses subsided.

When my senses returned, I was still astride him, my chest flat against his, my face buried in his neck. I inhaled his scent, dizzy with it.

Griffin was silent and still but for the motion of his chest as he breathed. I thought he might have fallen asleep, but then I felt his hands begin to stroke my back.

“You’re still awake,” I whispered.

“Barely.”

“How was the show?”

“Best I’ve ever seen.”

I smiled. “Really?”

“Yeah. Do you do encore performances?”

“Already?” I asked, the shock evident in my voice.

He chuckled. “No. I need an intermission.”

“Good. My contract says I get a nap between performances.” Dropping a kiss on his collarbone, I peeled myself off him and rolled to the other side of the bed.

He kissed my shoulder. “I’ll be right back. Are you thirsty?”

“Yes.”

“Me too. I’ll get you some water.”

“Thanks.”

He went into the bathroom, and when he came out and headed for the kitchen, I slipped out of bed and used the bathroom too. When I came out, he was already beneath the covers. “Here,” he said, grabbing one of two bottles of water on his nightstand and offering one to me.

“Thanks.” Kneeling on the mattress, I took the cold bottle of water from him, uncapped it, and downed the entire thing.

“You were thirsty,” he said, taking the empty bottle. “Must have been all that talking.”

“Admit it.” I poked his shoulder. “This was one occasion where you actually wanted me to keep talking.”

“Okay, fine. I admit it. That was the best bedtime story I have ever had.”

“Good.” Although I wanted to snuggle up, I slipped between the sheets, rolled over and faced away from him, remembering that he wasn’t one to cuddle.

Which is why it surprised me when I felt him press against my back, nestling the curve of my spine against his body. “I want another one tomorrow night.”

I smiled in the dark. “Is that allowed?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Well, I don’t know. Don’t you have a rule against it or something?”

“Normally, yes. But nothing about this situation is normal.”

“True. What about our deal?”

“What deal?”

“The deal we made saying this thing with us ends tonight since tomorrow you’ll officially be my boss.”

“Hmm. Well, breaking a deal isn’t like breaking a promise, right? I mean, if both parties agree to . . . renegotiate the terms, I think it’s fair.”

“I think so too.”

“So we agree.”

“We agree.”

He wrapped a hand around one breast and kissed my shoulder again. “Renegotiations start at the end of the workday tomorrow.” He paused. “Assuming I can wait that long.”

I laughed. “I’ll try not to tempt you.”

“That’s the problem, princess,” he said. “You tempt me without even trying.”

For once, I had no desire to keep a conversation going. I drifted off to sleep with his arms around me, his words even better than a dream.