by Dani McLean
I wanted an equal, someone to give when I took, to take when I gave.
Demanding. Relenting. Balanced.
“Fuck.”
“Agreed,” he said, and if I weren’t so turned on, I would have rolled my eyes at him.
“I hope you plan on moving sometime soon.” The window was hot and slick under my forehead now, and I wondered how much pressure it would take to break it. Hopefully more than it’s about to take.
“So bossy,” came his low, rough reply.
Any response I had was lost as he started to thrust, steady and deep.
It was good, so fucking good, but I needed more.
With a whine, I used the leverage I had, pushing against the glass and back into him, to meet his every thrust, taking pride in every grunt it pulled from him.
One hand reached around to cup my breast, gently squeezing before moving upwards. For a split second, I worried he was about to reach for my throat, and I kicked myself for not having had the whole “what gets you off” chat, which I usually tried to make time for before fucking someone for the first time. But instead, he pressed against my collarbone, guiding me upright, changing the angle deliciously, and pulling a wanton moan from deep within me.
Now that he was plastered along my back, I twisted my head towards him, angling for a kiss, our mouths meeting in a clash of teeth. Keeping one hand on the glass, I reached back, curling my hand into his short hair and gripping it, holding his lips to mine as I arched into his next thrust.
My back was on fire where his skin met mine, and all I could think was more, please, yes, more.
There wasn’t much leverage to move, but that didn’t stop him, and he held me steady against himself as he picked up the pace, his other hand dipping between my thighs to tease my clit, and damn, I was floating. Nothing had felt better than this.
Stars burst behind my eyes, and I fell forward against the glass, my forehead smearing sweat against the cool surface. I was about to vibrate right out of my damn skin. “Do it, Sam. Take what you need.” Reaching for him, I guided one of his hands into my hair. “You can pull if you want.”
I felt his fingers separate as he combed along the base of my scalp, caressing the roots before closing his grip. “Yes,” I moaned, immediately impressed. He’d done this before.
“Yes. Just like that. Fuck.” I was rewarded with a moan, his hips pumping into me faster now. “Harder, Sam. Please.”
Bracing myself against the glass, I reached down to rub my clit, and fuck, I was so close already, on edge from Sam’s lips and Sam’s hands and Sam’s fucking incredible ability to use his dick like it was his fucking job.
All I could hear was Sam’s punched-out little “Oh’s” and the harsh slap of his skin against mine. His fingers gripped my hips so tightly I was sure there would be bruising there tomorrow, and I couldn’t wait to run my fingers over them as I remembered tonight.
My body shook when my orgasm finally crashed through me, and Sam let out a raw moan as I clenched around him, slamming into me hot and hard before I felt him jolt and come inside me.
As the sounds of our panting breaths filled the air, his hand slipped out of my hair to stroke down my side, making me sigh. Those damn hands were magical. There was no way I would be able to look at them without remembering how good they felt on me. Without wanting them to worship me.
I had no idea what was holding either of us up since my legs felt like jelly and the glass was slick with sweat under my palm. When he pulled out, I stayed a moment against the glass, eyes closed as my heart beat wildly in my chest.
I was grateful when he helped me stand with a strong hand. Finally getting a better look at his naked body, I was impressed. He was lean, firm, and sexy as all hell.
“Well,” I said as he discarded the condom. His face had gone back to his usual collected expression, but his fringe was matted against his forehead, and there was a flush cascading down his neck and chest, so I knew he was affected. I smirked. “You weren’t half bad.”
And finally (finally!) I got to see that damn chuckle in full effect. It was like a double shot of electricity, straight to my system. “Same to you.”
And, for a second, I could see him question what had just happened, and no. Just no. Before he could start getting into his head about it, I stepped up and kissed him slow and deeply before slipping back into my clothes. “Glad you finally accepted my resignation. See you tomorrow, boss.”
“That’s not funny.” Yep. There was that tone I knew and loved.
My laughter reverberated in the stairwell as I made my way out.
24
Sam
Well. That was certainly unexpected.
And maybe a little bit of her impetuousness was catching because I knew I shouldn’t be thinking of sleeping with Tiffany again, but I honestly couldn’t stop. The dam had broken, and I felt my self-preservation fading against the memory of last night and the possibility of more.
And, well. It was hardly going to turn into anything more, was it?
Which was for the best. After Piper, I’d like to believe I’d learned my lesson about falling before thinking.
There’d be little chance of that here. As alluring as Tiffany was, it didn’t distract from how utterly incompatible we were. We could barely get through a conversation without disagreeing.
No. As Tiffany had said herself, there was no chance of “catching feelings.” Prior to last night, I had wondered whether all I would need to rid myself of my preoccupation with her was to satisfy that urge, allowing sense to return.
The opposite had been true.
Now that I’d had a taste, I most definitely found myself more occupied than ever.
But first things first. It seemed I had a head bartender to replace.
Utilizing the new coffee machine in the bar, a fine addition, I had to admit, I was on my second espresso before moving to the office to start making calls.
Whatever time zone Jordan was currently in didn’t stop him from answering, and it reminded me of a time, long ago, when we had the opportunity to talk more regularly. But between his business ventures and my own, conversations were few and far between. It was a shame.
“Bit early for you, isn’t it?” he said as he answered.
“Since when have we had regular hours?”
“True, true. What’s going on? Is this a friendly chat?”
“Yes and no. My head bartender quit last night, and I was hoping you’d have some names to pass on. I have some people to call on the West Coast but wanted to see who you knew over here that might be a good fit.”
“Of course. I’ll send you some options. Sorry to hear that, though. From what I’ve heard, she was quite the talent.” Ah, seemed he’d been checking up. “It’s always hard to lose the good ones. What were her reasons? Do you think the rest of the staff will follow?” Damn. I hoped not.
“Ah, no. No.” Get it together. “She was clear that she needed to make a move.” In more ways than one. “The staff definitely respects her, but I don’t think they’ll walk out once she’s left.”
“Once?”
“I’ve asked her to stay on until I can find a replacement.”
“Good idea. Makes for a smoother transition.” There was something there. Something in his voice. “And how do you feel about her leaving?” There it was.
“It’s not the most convenient timing, but I’m happy.” Dammit.
“Happy?” He chuckled.
“I meant, I’m …” Think.
Even though I couldn’t see him, there was no mistaking his smile now. “I think I might need to move up my plans to see you. I can’t remember the last time I heard you tongue-tied.”
“Don’t read into it.”
“Oh, I will, my friend. I’ve known you for too long.”
“Yes, well.”
My next step was to call Devon and Tiffany into the bar early. After Jordan’s comments, I was determined to head off any staff discord early.
Th
e fact that it also meant seeing Tiffany again was not a factor.
It wasn’t.
When they arrived, I had to bite back a laugh. Tiffany had her hair in a rather complicated top bun braid style that completely exposed her neck, as well as the dark mark I’d left on her from last night.
Of course.
Any concerns I’d had that she might regret last night were obliterated, and honestly, I should have known better than to even contemplate it. This was Tiffany Young, resident firecracker, heavyweight bickering champion. She hadn’t done anything less than completely project herself in every interaction we’d had, so why should this be any different.
Devon handled the news well, and I was extremely pleased when he said he had no plans to go anywhere. Thank god. He might not have the same flair as Tiffany, but he was an incredibly hard worker. I held him back, ignoring Tiffany’s sly wink as she left the office to start bar prep.
While Devon and I spoke, the sound system came to life beyond the door. It was always clearer to hear in the hour before opening when the bar was empty. As the lyrics filtered through, I made out the words, “Take me from behind” and “Make the glasses shake.” I was glad that I was out of view, heat rippling through my body. No chance of Tiffany being subtle about this, then.
I refocused on the conversation at hand. “If you’re interested in a promotion, now is the time to let me know.”
“While I appreciate the offer, Mr. Cooper, mixing isn’t something I’m planning on pursuing.”
His phrasing interested me. “How about the bar manager position?”
“Isn’t that something you’re currently doing?”
“It is. But it was never going to be a long-term arrangement, and I’d like to focus more on the refurbishment and expansion.” Among other things. “You’re more than capable, and from what I’ve witnessed, already doing the work. If you want it, it’s yours.”
“I’d like the think it over.”
“Of course.”
“I also know someone perfect for the bar, too.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, my sister Jade. She’s maybe not gotten as many awards as Tiffany—”
“Few have.”
“But she’s incredible. Has a real mind for flavors and combinations, and she can mix anything you ask her to.”
“And you’re not a little biased?”
“I am. But that doesn’t mean what I’ve said isn’t true.”
“Ok. Have her send me her resume, and I’ll take a look.”
“Thanks, boss.”
After closing, I made a concerted effort not to be in a rush for everyone to leave. I wasn’t so much hiding in my office. I was reviewing paperwork. I was handling important business things.
I re-read the same paragraph four times before I gave up.
The office door closed with a click. The bar was quiet beyond it, and from the way Tiffany very openly leered at me, I assumed everyone had finally gone home.
“We should probably talk first.”
“Really? That’s what you want to do right now?”
My expression still, I raised an eyebrow, daring her to disagree.
“Fine. You might be.” She trailed the last word into a mumble.
“Sorry, what was that?”
“You might be right.”
“I wasn’t even aware you knew that word.”
“Don’t push it.”
I allowed myself a laugh then, glad that last night hadn’t resulted in Tiffany acting any different around me. “You should probably sit.”
She eyed the chair on the other side of the desk. “I think you’re right.” What she didn’t do was sit in said chair. Instead, she walked around and sat on the desk before me. I shifted my chair back in the minimal amount of space available to me.
“So, what did you want to talk about?” She looked far too pleased with herself.
Talking. Right. I’d wanted that.
Why had I wanted that?
“We need to establish some boundaries.”
“Ok.” I’d expected her to fight me. Huh.
“No sex during work hours. We maintain a professional relationship around the rest of the staff.”
“Ok. What else?” When I paused, not entirely sure, she elaborated. “Likes? Dislikes? I should have asked last night, but, uh, I wasn’t really expecting to be pounced on.”
My skin flushed. “I hardly pounced.”
Her smile grew lascivious. “Oh, no. I liked it. A lot. I just didn’t know you had it in you.”
It was growing harder to have this conversation without touching her.
Harder still when she toed off her shoes and placed a foot on my chair in the space between my legs. Not yet touching, but there. Waiting.
“I’ll go first,” she said. “I don’t mind it rough, hair pulling, biting, but no choking. Spanking’s good. Any markings, really.” She touched the spot behind her ear. “I should probably warn you that I get pretty loud when I’m enjoying myself. Talk a lot, sometimes. Though, that shouldn’t be surprising.”
When had these pants gotten so tight? I adjusted in the chair, but the friction only made it harder to ignore.
It wasn’t that I was unadventurous when it came to sex, but to have it laid out, so openly, so plainly, like we were discussing the weather. Well.
I tried to ignore my growing interest in favor of actually talking.
“I, uh, like talking. From other people.” Damn, why was this so hard? I’d had this talk with exes before. I cleared my throat. “I like it a little rough, too, but I won’t hurt you. Or degrade. Praise is good, and uh,” I rubbed my palms on my thighs, “bondage. That’s, um, I’d be into that.”
Her bottom lip was caught between her teeth as she nodded slowly, her eyes raking over my body, pausing for a lengthy moment at my crotch, which absolutely preened under the attention.
“Interesting,” she said, sliding her foot the last few inches until it brushed against me. “There’s a lot I think we agree on. We’ll have to swap lists sometime.”
I held back a moan. Coherent thought was getting more difficult.
“Are you familiar with traffic lights?” she asked.
“I am.”
“Good. How do you feel about submission?”
“Yours or mine?”
“That,” she said, her smile widening, “is the right question.” She pulled her foot back, letting it hang over the desk with a swing. “I enjoy both, but I don’t expect you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with.”
* * *
My blood was singing in my veins now. This woman was a gift. “Both is good.”
I stood, the strain against my dick intensifying, and stepped forward. Tiffany’s legs spread wider to accommodate me between them, and she leaned back onto her elbows, smiling like she’d won something.
“Take your shirt off.” There was no mistaking her command.
“Are you asking or telling me?”
“Asking.” She trailed her eyes over my body, and I felt it as surely as any physical touch. “Firmly.”
I pulled my shirt over my head, tossing it back onto the chair behind me.
“Pants, now.”
One button undone, I stopped. “What about you?”
“I’m enjoying the show.” She then proved this by shifting her weight onto one arm and snaking a hand into her jeans, maintaining eye contact the whole time.
It might have been the hottest image I’d ever seen.
But that didn’t mean I wasn’t going to have some fun with it.
I fished a condom out of my wallet and placed it on the desk beside her, then reached for the zip of her jeans. “Let me help with that.”
She chuckled, pulling her hand out slowly and licking her fingers. She hummed to herself at the taste before resettling to watch me. I groaned, my eyes fluttering closed, and I dropped a hand to palm my erection. She knew exactly how to drive me out of my mind.
After removing her pants an
d underwear, I got to work on my own but was barely out of them when Tiffany sprung forward, gripping my hips and driving me forward with force. I managed to catch myself on the desk, her legs wrapping around my waist, her hands sliding up my back as she arched into me.
Taking advantage of the proximity, I assaulted her mouth with mine, nipping and licking while she moaned beneath me. It had barely been twenty-four hours since the last time I’d tasted her, and I couldn’t get enough.
When we separated to breathe, I quickly found the condom and took care of that before diving back in to kiss her. She used her mouth like a goddamn weapon, as creative with her tongue as with her words. I wanted her so badly. It was quickly overriding every other thought I had.
Likely erasing something while it was at it.
Goodbye, middle school geometry. Replaced by the hot, sweet taste of Tiffany.
Her heels dug into my back, pulling me forward, and I followed eagerly, reaching down to line myself up before easing into her with a rough breath. Then I needed a moment to take it all in. This—she—felt incredible.
So much more than the tight heat around me was the image of her laid out on my desk, eyes blazing with the same fire I’d seen many times in this office. Dammit, what a sight.
She moaned. “Fuck. You feel so good.” Then, with a wink, she rolled her hips and squeezed, and all the blood left my brain. I leaned down, hungrily sucking a bruise into the hollow of her neck, a spot I’d wanted to get my mouth on for weeks now.
“Fuck, Sam. I’ve been thinking about you all damn day.”
Smiling against her skin, I continued to mouth along her neck as my hands snuck under her shirt, breathing a laugh against her skin as she writhed beneath me. “Sam. Move.” I didn’t, enjoying the thrill of having her at my mercy, dragging my hands up her body at a maddeningly slow pace.
“Sam.” Her feet locked around me tighter, her heat clenching around me until I needed to close my eyes and count to ten just to pull myself together.
“Patience.”
I continued to explore her body. Finally getting to appreciate her body the way I’d wanted to last night. She was a goddess. Beautiful, powerful, passionate. And here she was, pleading me to move. Wanting me. It was enough to do me in.
