His strokes became faster, wilder, before he threw his head back, spurting against the mirror. I clenched my thighs together, pulsing my muscles, aching for friction. Aching for that release to be inside of me.
Just then, Cola hopped up, placing her front paws on the ledge of the window right in front of my face and barked, completely startling me. I lost my footing and slipped over the railing, tray and all, coffee splashing all over my t-shirt.
Chapter 3
Chelsea
Within moments, Josh swung open the door, a frantic look in his eyes. He was wearing a pair of jeans that hung low on his hips… and that was it. Little did he know that I had seen what he was doing seconds earlier. That I knew he threw those jeans on quickly over his still-hard cock before rushing out to find me, sprawled on my back covered in hot, black coffee.
“Oh, my God, Chelsea,” he cried and rushed down the stairs to help me. “Are you okay?”
He scooped me up and carried me up the stairs into the trailer, kicking the door shut behind him. “Are you hurt?”
“Just my pride,” I groaned. “And… maybe my ankle, too.”
He gently set me down on the couch and knelt in front of me, unlacing my once-white Keds… which were now splattered tan with coffee. Damn. Those were practically new, too. “What’s all over you?” He asked, grazing his finger from the inside of my knee down the length of my leg and catching a dark brown droplet at my ankle.
“Coffee. I was bringing you a cup of coffee this morning, Mr. Murphy…” I held up the bag of beans which, unlike me, had made it through unscathed. “And replenishments for what I drank these last couple weeks.”
His deep brown eyes softened, and he shook his head. “You don’t have to do that.” He peeled away my sock, having a closer look at my ankle. “Can you move it?”
I stared at him as he closely examined my injured ankle, so attentive. So caring. Was it possible that all this time I thought he was annoyed by me… maybe in actuality, he liked me too much?
“Chelsea?” He prodded again, concern marring his gloriously handsome face.
I nodded and circled my ankle around. “It’s sore, but I think it’s okay.”
“I think we should take you to the ER just in case—”
“No,” I said quickly. “An ER trip will be three hours of waiting and a four-figure bill just to have them tell me it’s a bad bruise.” Nope. No thank you. I’ll keep my money and my time, thank you very much.
“Chelsea.” He stated my name as though it was a sentence. A fully thought out sentence in and of itself. And his growled tone was eerily similar to the way he had groaned my name while he was touching himself. “You’re my employee. It happened on my watch in my trailer… I will pay for the medical bills.”
I shook my head. “I promise I’m fine. If I was in more pain, I would take you up on that, I swear. But as it is, I’m okay—”
His hand started stroking my foot gently, applying just a tender amount of pressure at my arch, and my gasp cut me off mid-sentence. God, that felt good. And knowing those hands had just been touching his cock? My breasts grew heavy with need, my nipples tightening beneath my damp t-shirt.
His gaze dipped to my chest and his mouth parted as he drew in a breath. My clothes weren’t especially sexy or revealing… khaki shorts. A v-neck, fitted t-shirt. Keds. Your standard dog-walking outfit. But the way he was looking at me? I felt… naked.
His throat tightened with a swallow; a motion that, though small, didn’t go unnoticed.
He leaned in, close enough that it would only take a couple inches for me to move forward, to press our lips together. His hand skimmed from my foot up my calf, kneading his thumb into the muscle there. I wasn’t prepared for the heat that rippled out from his touch, sending a path of goosebumps surging up my leg. His grip on my leg changed, pinching tighter, and I heard his breath catch as one of his fingers trailed across the goosebumps. I wasn’t counting on how delicate I would feel beneath his touch. How his entire hand could drape over my thigh and almost cover me. Seeing his hands there—so intimate, yet not entirely inappropriate—sent my neglected libido into overdrive.
I trembled, a shudder so incredibly out of my control that it rocked down my spine.
“What were you doing?” he asked carefully, “by my window?” Then… holy hell… his thumb started to move. Small strokes over my knee.
“I… um… had knocked, and you didn’t answer.” With my choked breath and quivering voice, I was certain he could call my bluff.
A knowing smile creased the corners of his mouth. “You never knock.”
Dammit.
“Well, today, I did.” I said, trying to keep my voice as even as possible. It was a wonder I managed to speak, what with swallowing my tongue and all.
We didn’t move for a while. Stayed just like that: his hand on my knee, eyes locked, our mouths inches apart. I wanted him. I wanted him more than I had wanted anyone in ages. I had only ever had one boyfriend… one lover… and I’d never felt like this with him. Never felt this insatiable lust, like all I wanted was to arch my back and offer my body to him to feast on.
But Josh was a gentleman… and my boss. I doubted he would make the first move. If I wanted him, it was up to me to make that happen. I licked my lips and tasted the remnants of the Chapstick I had applied that morning.
He felt this, too. Surely, he did. But just as I was about to part my lips and kiss him, he pulled back, the moment broken.
Scooting away from me, he gently propped my ankle up on some pillows. “Do you have a change of clothes?”
I glanced down at my shirt, still damp with coffee and now sheer because of that spill. Well, crap. I shook my head no.
He stood, crossing to a wardrobe, and grabbed a t-shirt and a pair of his shorts. “You can use my shower if you want to,” he said, gesturing to a door off to the right of the lit mirror.
Normally, I would have said no. Normally, I would have maybe taken the change of shirt, but just wiped down in the bathroom quickly and waited until I got home. But this was my chance to strip naked… here in Josh’s presence. To show him I was more than just a girl who cared for his dog. And based on the display I saw through the crack in his window… I think he wanted me, too.
“Sure,” I said, moving to stand up. “Thank you.”
“Of course,” he rushed to my side, helping me to my feet, even though the pain in my ankle had dulled to barely a throb. “I can wait outside if you want—”
“No!” I said. “It’s just… you should probably be in here in case anything happens. With my ankle, I mean.”
His eyes creased in concern. “Of course. I should have thought of that myself.”
“Don’t beat yourself off…”
His brow quirked at me. “Don’t beat myself off?” he repeated.
“Up!” I corrected, my voice a squeak. Holy shit, why was I such a spaz? “Don’t beat yourself up about it is what I meant to say!”
We reached his bathroom and he set me down to lean on the sink while he turned on the water and set the folded clothes next to where I was leaning. “If you need anything, just holler.”