Honor Bound by Joey Hill (speld decodable readers .txt) 📕

laid it by her office phone, then carefully punched the numbers in with the end of a pencil.

Ford blinked, the lines of his face overly tense. Or maybe that was her imagination.

She went through the rigmarole, giving her name, confirming her birth date, yadda yadda.

Tapping the card, she concentrated on the voice rather than on Ford sitting in front of her, but her heart pounded as if an eighteen-wheeler were bearing down.

“We were just about to call you,” the nurse said, her voice bright.

She was too cheery for bad news. Sophia held her breath.

“Everything was fine. The biopsy was negative.”

The breath whooshed from her lungs like a deflating balloon. She didn’t realize she’d closed her eyes until she opened them to find Ford standing by her side.

“Thank you,” she managed, making some idle chitchat noises about how she was feeling, fine, wonderful, then finally good-bye. She hugged the receiver, the dial tone vibrating against her chest. “I’m okay,” she whispered.

Ford grabbed the back of her head and took her mouth with the sweetest, most delicious kiss she’d ever known. A taste of tongue, the softness of his lips, the scent of skin.

Then he leaned his forehead against hers. “Thank God.” His minty breath caressed her cheek.

They stayed that way forever. Or maybe a minute. Her chest hurt. She couldn’t breathe.

But she wasn’t going to die. At least not this year.

Ford stroked a thumb beneath her eye, his fingers brushing up into the hair at her temple.

“Feel better?”

There were some things words couldn’t describe. The depth of emotion she’d felt as he filled her that night. The strength of her orgasm. The taste of that first amazing kiss. The zest of his semen in her mouth. And this moment, all the more potent because she shared it with him.

“Better,” she whispered. Life had taken a sharp right turn off a cliff two weeks ago, and she’d hit bottom, hard. Now it had made a complete U-turn. She could start over. She could make plans. She could stop dreaming she was in a coffin.

Ford took the receiver from her hand and set it back in the cradle. Damn if it didn’t ring immediately. “Yes,” she said, eyes drinking in Ford so close to her.

What did it mean for them now?

The voice on the phone broke through her reverie. “Sophia, it’s Constance. Could you tell Ford his eleven o’clock, Schuman from Price Waterhouse, rescheduled for two this afternoon?”

“Sure, Constance.” And may I tell you I don’t have cancer. She felt a giddy need to shout it out loud. Thank God Constance had already hung up before she could make a fool of herself. “Schuman will be here at two instead.”

“Great.” Ford hauled her to her feet. “That means we can have a celebration lunch. Get your coat.”

“I’d love to.” God. He still wanted to see her. “Where shall we go? I’ll meet you there.”

“Let’s do John’s Grill. They’ve got fantastic lamb chops. And we can go together.”

Lamb chops. Yes. Perfect. She was going to celebrate by eating whatever she damn well wanted. “Sure, why not? We can go together.” She stepped around him, heading to the coatrack for her jacket. “It’ll look like a business lunch.” Of course, they hadn’t had a business lunch since the day she started, but that was okay. No one would think anything.

He pulled her back with a hand on her arm. “I don’t care if it looks like a business lunch or not.”

She shrugged. “Well, we don’t want people to think we’re personally involved.”

A line furrowed his brow as he stared down at her. “We are personally involved. I fucked you nine ways to Sunday and held you while you puked.”

God. Why did he have to remind her about Monday? It was mortifying. “I realize we’re personally involved.” She wanted more of it, of course. God, why wouldn’t she? “But we shouldn’t advertise it since you’re the CEO and I’m a VP.”

Ford snorted. “What happened to living out your fantasies?”

“Of course I want to live out more fantasies. We just need to be discreet about it.”

Ford stepped around her, locking her office door. “Fuck discreet.”

A blush bloomed on Sophia’s cheeks. Embarrassment or excitement? Ford didn’t give a damn. He was not going to let her go back to the persona she’d worn last week. She was a hot, passionate woman, and he would not let her deny it anymore.

“What are you doing?” She gasped as he backed her up against the desk.

He tugged her knee-length skirt up her thighs. “I’m showing you how indiscreet we’re going to be. And how much you’re going to like it.”

She shoved at his hand. “Ford, we can’t do this here.”

Despite her efforts, he found the tops of her thigh-highs. “Look at that. You’re wearing the naughty stockings and garter again.” He glanced up. “You don’t want to be discreet any more than I do.” Palming the crotch of her panties, he found her damp, her sexy, aroused musk rising to his nostrils.

Her semisweet eyes became pure dark chocolate. “This is bad.”

He slipped beneath the elastic of her thong. “This is oh so good.”

She clutched his arms, her fingernails digging in despite the layers of his jacket and shirt.

When he found her clit, she moaned. He circled, and she sucked in a breath, closed her eyes, her head falling back.

“I’d love to fuck you right now, but your doctor’s instructions said to refrain for a week.”

“Ford.” She moaned.

The way she said his name made him crazy. He would not allow her to keep him her naughty little secret. Instead he’d make her scream.

Ford went to his knees in front of her and pulled her thong to the side. Her sweet, plump pussy beckoned. “Beg me, Sophia. Beg me to lick you and suck you until you explode.”

She gazed down at him with liquid eyes. “Please.”

He parted her folds and took her clit with his tongue, swirling around in her juice. Damn, she was wet, hot. He felt her lean back on