The Only Way to Dance
Chrissie wins an interview with a prestigious advertising agency. Fate conspires to make the day difficult. The only bright spot is her meeting with gorgeous Dylan Cross, but who is he, and will their steamy attraction to each other prevent her from having the job she covets?
N.B. This story was previously published as part of Executive Assistant, an anthology of erotic romance from Evernight Publishing.
Available on kindleunlimited
Read a teaser 18+
She looked sexy, pale, a little disheveled, but so pretty.
He kissed her. Chrissie responded with a kiss that sent tingles to his balls and tightened his stomach. Dylan traced the seam of her lips with the tip of his tongue. When she opened her mouth and her tongue met his, the rush of desire that went straight down his body hardened his cock. He explored her mouth and tongue with his. Each touch made his cock jerk and grow until he felt the tip against the waistband of his shorts.
“You know, if this was a movie we’d have sex and the time would fly by, then we’d be saved.” He kissed her between phrases, wondering what she would do if he unzipped her skirt and the shell top she wore so that he could knead her breasts and push his fingertips against her pussy. The thought brought a low groan to his throat and a pearl of moisture leaked from his cock.
“If this was a movie, you’d lift me up to the trap door in the roof of the elevator and I’d climb out and escape.” She smiled at him.
“I’ll lift you up there, you can check if you want, but I have no idea where you might escape to. That’s never been clear in the movies.” He bent and picked her up under the thighs. It was easy. She was slender and small. Dylan experienced a moment of complete lust when he realized he’d brought her pussy against his face. Even clad in her skirt he could feel the shape of her mound against his cheek as he turned his face a little. He nearly stumbled when he took the step to the center of the floor from the raw need she ignited in him. He pictured sucking her clit, licking her pussy, kissing down the insides of her thighs.
Chrissie laughed and vibrations from her ass on his forearms went straight down into his stomach in waves of desire. He closed his eyes as he moved his face and nestled into her. Her skirt rode up. He bent his head to push his face up under her skirt.
She put her hands on his shoulders. “The trap door won’t move. Dylan, let me down.”
Surrounded by the scent of her skin and the feel of her thighs through the pantyhose she wore, Dylan forced himself to put her down.
She slid down the front of his body, her skirt going up around her waist.
He pulled her against his hips, his hands cupping her ass. He kissed her hard as he lifted her to grind his hard cock against her. “Chrissie.” His whisper sounded like a plea, even to his ears.
She surged up against his body, pushing against him, to return his kiss.
“Yes,” she whispered against his lips.
Copyright Elodie Parkes, 2019
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