Michael tilts his head back, relaxing into the pillow as Lee sinks below kissing range. One of his hands goes back into her hair, fingers massaging at her scalp.
Lee says what she says, and he huffs grumpily. It’s embarrassing how much the thought of being with her in the office excites him—and it doesn’t make sense, because the thought of being interrupted by anyone is awful. He hates having his privacy invaded and is even touchier about it now that he doesn’t live with his father anymore. If he doesn’t like the risk of getting caught, why is the idea of having sex where he works so appealing?
Details aside, it’s on his mind now; he shifts his hips slightly underneath her and runs his foot along the side of her leg. “Like we could actually do anything there anyway,” he tells himself out loud. “I should just come home for lunch. Wake you up. Or in the morning.”