50 Shades of Drake 1 and 2

50SOD II: Chapter Fifty-Six

    Aubrey's steps were slow...measured...languid as he walked around the piano and stopped right behind the white leather armchair placed to Destiny's right. He braced his hands on the top of the armchair. His muscles flexed as he did so.

    Raw attraction ignited in her eyes at the sight of him. "You could probably use a break, with all the drama going on right now," she said once she got out of her feelings. "This is your company. I can't imagine how stressed out over all of this you are."

    He shrugged. "At first I was stressed out and now I'm just kind of numb to it. Now I'm just wondering when the next ball is going to drop. They keep coming out with all of this shit."

    "Which further proves that you have a mole or something in your company," she said. "Hopefully you have a team looking into that."

    "I do," he confirmed. "And the IT department also knows to keep a tighter watch on computer activity to see if anyone is using their work computers to send out communications they shouldn't be. Everyone is on watch."

    "They need to be more than 'on watch,'" she muttered, logging into her Microsoft account. "Maybe you should have a private investigator look into your staff."

    "Already in the works," he sad, watching her.

    "Hmm." She brought up the internet browser and touched a fingertip to her bottom lip.

    "Do you know how sexy you look right now?" he questioned, his voice going a few octaves deeper than usual.

    The sound of his voice sent a series of shivers down her back. Her hands stilled on the computer keyboard and she swiveled her gaze towards him. "Don't start."

    He grinned and moved around the chair. "Giving me orders now?"

    "It's a weekday," she reminded him as he approached her. She held up an index finger. "Don't."

    His eyebrows rose in mock-innocence. "Don't do what?" he asked, dropping down to his knees. "Don't do what? Don't do this?" With precise movements, he parted her knees with his hands and ran both hands up the length of her thighs.

    She looked at him over the top of her laptop monitor. "Seriously? I can't work for a few hours?"

    He carefully lifted her monitor and set it beside her, then moved closer to her, positioning himself between her thighs. "If you really wanted to work, you should have stayed in the bedroom. Out of my sight."

    "I wanted to hear the music you were playing," she said defensively.

    "Mmmhm," he said with an eye roll.

    Her eyes widened. "What? I did."

    "And this?" he tugged on the hem of her tank top.

    "This is my go-to lounging outfit," she told him, swatting his hand away. "I always wear tanks and shorts. You know that."

    He slid his hand beneath her top.

    "I'm trying to help you," she said, tilting her head back and staring up at the vaulted ceiling. A moment later, she felt his mouth on her thigh. Then he was lifting her tank top and kissing her stomach. "I'm trying to help Graham Enterprises and you're not letting me."

    "You can keep working," he mumbled against her stomach.

    "How?" she asked, laughing. She cupped his face in her hands. "Hey. Look at me."

    He looked up at her. Dark eyes cloaked with desire, thick lashes the ideal frame for the sexiest eyes she'd ever seen, lips parted... When his face was this close, and looked that adorable, and when his perfectly groomed facial hair was this soft against the palms of her hands, it was impossible to reject him.

    Her eyes lowered from his face to the curve of his shoulders, the bulge of his upper arms. Well-shaped pectorals that narrowed down into an abdomen carved by the gods. Happy trail leading into his pajama pants. With a sigh, she raised her eyes back up to his face. "All right, all right. But after this you let me work."

    His thousand-watt boyish grin flashed at her. He stood up slowly, and stared down at her.

    "Wait," she said softly.

    He arched an eyebrow at her.

    Her eyes lowered again. There was something she'd been itching to do, ever since she'd seen those damned pajama pants clinging to him in the most flattering of ways. "Come here," she instructed softly.

    "You really are," he said in wonder. "You're actually trying to give me orders."

    "Come here," she repeated, crooking her index finger at him. She spread her legs open wider.

    With amusement lighting up his eyes, he took the few steps that left his toes right at the base of the couch.

    She smoothed her hands down the sides of his outer thighs. One thing about Aubrey...a lot of his clothes were so amazingly soft to the touch. They had absolutely the best texture, ever single item he wore. The material slid beneath her fingers. Running her hands back up his outer thighs, she looked him in the eyes as she leaned forward and bit the end of one of the drawstrings keeping his pants on his hips.

    Desire flared up in his eyes and his eyebrows drew together. His Adam's apple bounced as he swallowed.

    Holding his gaze, with the drawstring firmly clenched between her teeth, she drew her head back, loosening the string's hold on his pants.

    "You fucking sexy bitch," he growled at her as his pants shifted, lowering down his hips.

    "But...I haven't started yet," she said, her voice laced with the same mock- innocence his voice had only moments ago.

    He shook his head, the grin never leaving his face.