Mike didn't let her off the hook so easily. Instead of a gentle embrace, he began to trail his fingers along the sensitive curve of her waist, his touch light, teasing, and maddeningly imprecise.
He leaned down, his lips grazing the shell of her ear, and whispered a particularly filthy recount of how her body had sounded when she was begging for his cock in the grass.
"You know," he murmured, his voice a low vibration that seemed to settle right in her pelvis, "for someone so worried about her 'professionalism,' you sure do react a certain way when I even think about the way you were arching your back for me."
He let his hand slide lower, his palm brushing just the edge of her thigh, dangerously close to the heat between her legs.
"Stop it!" Madison gasped, her hands coming up to swat at his chest.
