"No," Catherine said, her voice low and laced with pent-up lust. "We have something even better."
They closed in on him from both sides with Catherine from the left and Dominique from the right before their hands found him at the same time. Catherine's fingers slid possessively around his arm while Dominique's warm palm pressed flat against his chest, guiding him backward with deliberate grace.
His legs met the edge of the mahogany desk, and a slow grin spread across his face as they positioned him against it.
'This desk.'
He remembered it instantly—the way it had once borne witness to the first time he and Catherine truly surrendered to each other.
How an assessment after undoing Domnique had dissolved into raw passion, her back arching across its polished surface, papers scattering, her legs wrapped tight around his waist while the heavy wood creaked beneath them and she cried his name in a voice he still heard in his dreams.
