She fought the electric spikes rolling through her as his über-talented mouth got busy at the side of her neck again. Delicious. It felt so damned delicious she gasped. “What kind of project?” “A clothes-removal one.” He growled. Didn’t say a word, just growled his approval as his hands skimmed her waist, her hips, before moving across to the tab of her pants. He quickly unhooked it. The silky-smooth fabric slipped down her hips until it dropped to her ankles. She stepped out of it, and a nanosecond later he was stroking her through her panties, his touch gentle at first, then rougher, bolder. He pulled the offending garment off to one side, exposing her to the pad of his thumb. “Wait. I didn’t mean here,” she managed to groan out as she gripped his thighs with both hands. “Rosalind could be back any second.” Still, without the barrier between them, she held her breath, waited.
