“You’ve always wanted to do that, haven’t you?” I asked, my laughter turned to a groan as she squeezed her pussy, pulling me in deeper.
“Absolutely,” she grinned, reaching for me.
I climbed up on my desk, slightly worried it wouldn’t be able to hold our combined weight. When it didn’t come crashing down beneath us, I started fucking her in earnest.
“Ahhh,” Lena screamed as she came. Her vocal reaction was all it took to send me over the edge.
I felt myself empty inside her and then it was over.
I carefully dropped down beside her, rolling her onto her side so I didn’t have to pull out yet. I wanted to stay attached to her for as long as possible.
“That was something,” I smiled, pushing a sweaty strand of hair back from her forehead.
She cupped the side of my neck. “Thanks for indulging my fantasy.”
I kissed her softly. “Anytime, babe. Anytime. And I mean that. Any. Time.” I waggled my eyebrows and she laughed.
“Okay, your stapler is digging into my hip. And I’m pretty sure I heard the desk creak,” she complained.
With reluctance I pulled out, grabbing a handful of tissues to clean up the mess. I’d never been able to sit at this desk and not think of her again.
Lena crawled off the desk, grabbing her blouse and bra. “Don’t rush to get dressed on my account,” I drawled.
She snorted, shrugging on her shirt. I picked up my pants from the floor and pulled them on. When we were both more or less dressed, Lena helped me pick up the papers and office supplies she had knocked to the floor. When the office was put to rights, I grabbed her waist and pulled her close again.
“Are you going to tell me this time was a mistake too?” I asked, sounding oh, so nonchalant.
Lena let out a long sigh. “I probably should. If I had any sense of self-respect.”
Her answer bothered me. I tipped her chin upwards so that she had to look at me. “Why does being with me have to mean you don’t respect yourself?”
She tried to wiggle out of my grasp, but I wasn’t letting her go that easily. “We’ve already discussed this.”
“And I told you I wasn’t sleeping with anyone else. Can we move on from that now?” I retorted, kissing her angrily.
She returned the kiss before pushing away. “Fine. I’ll stop bringing it up. But I’ve got to get going. I told Adam I’d meet him and Meg at Sweet Lila’s.”
I grabbed my car keys and phone, tucking them into my pocket. “Oh, cool. Adam asked me too, so I’ll head over with you—”
Lena pressed her hand against my chest, halting me. “No. I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
I lifted her hand and kissed her palm. “Why? They won’t know we just screwed like rabbits on my desk.” I gave her a wink and she couldn’t stop herself from smiling.
“I think it’s best we don’t make it too obvious we’re... that you and I have been... ugh.” She threw her hands in the air.
She was adorable when she was frustrated. Hell, she was adorable in every way. I gave her a quick kiss on the mouth before she could protest. “I can keep a secret, Ducate. And if that’s what it takes to do that again. And again,” I kissed her one more time. “I’ll take it to the grave.” I crossed my heart with my finger and gave her the Boy Scout salute.
I thought for a minute I had her. She went up on her tiptoes and kissed me, taking the initiative for once.
But before I could deepen it, she was backing away. “Not tonight, Jeremy. Please.”
I wouldn’t let her see how that hurt me. Instead, I shrugged. “Fine. I’ll see you on Monday then.”
I started to head out the door when she stopped me.
“Call me tomorrow,” she called out.
Of course, I’d call her. But I sure as shit wouldn’t let her know that.
“Let’s see what the day brings, shall we?”
And then I left hoping my dignity was still in one piece.
But we both knew she had me.
Chapter 11
Lena
Having sex with Jeremy Wyatt was proving to be my favorite past time. Pretending at work that there was nothing going on was like some kind of messed up foreplay. It turned me on to brush past him in the hallway without acknowledging the sexual tension brimming between us. I became aroused watching him make coffee in the morning knowing that in a few hours he’d rip my clothes off and make me scream. Screwing Jeremy was akin to a religious experience. I never knew I could come so hard and so often. I didn’t want to think about why he was so good with his hands and tongue. Or how he learned that particular trick he did with his hips that drove me wild.
We insisted it was only sex. It was the mantra I repeated in my head after every interlude. So, why was I seething with barely contained jealousy as I stood in the middle of the grocery store, trying to engage in polite chit chat with Nicola Bennett?
Yes, that Nicola Bennett. The woman Jeremy fingered at their launch party all those years ago.
“I heard you were working with Adam now. That’s great news!” she enthused, obviously meaning it. I had always gotten along with Nicola. She was nice, if not a little flighty. She was married with a kid, but when I looked at her all I could see was her pressed against the wall with Jeremy’s hand between her thighs.
What the hell was wrong with me? She was a wife and a mother. She was with Jeremy four years ago. Yet, I felt my hands clench and I had a brief fantasy of punching Nicola in her cute, button nose.
I was being absurd.
“Yeah, it’s been a steep learning curve, that’s for sure, but I’m loving every minute,” I responded, trying to push all thoughts of chick fighting and bloodshed out of my mind.
“I can imagine. He and his partners sure seem busy these days. They’re always in the paper. It’s nice to see a local boy doing so well.” She grabbed a box of pasta off the shelf and dropped it into her basket. “And that partner of his is something, am I right?” She made a show of fanning herself.
My jaw tightened. “You mean Rob?” I asked dumbly.
Nicola giggled. “Robert Jenkins? No! I mean, he’s a good-looking man, but he’s not really my type. I’ve never been into the cute dorky look. I like my men with some muscles.”
I grabbed random items and threw them into my cart, not really caring what they were. “That’s funny, I thought your husband was your type.” I sounded catty and more than a little bitchy.
Nicola blinked, clearly unable to read my mood.
Tread carefully, I silently warned her.
“Oh well, of course, but a girl can still look, you know. Just because I’m married doesn’t mean I’m dead. Especially when you’ve been with Jeremy Wyatt.” She giggled like a schoolgirl.
Damn it, they had slept together. Why did he have to be such a slut?
“Oh, okay.” My tone was clipped and clearly not inviting further conversation. But Nicola had never been the sharpest tool in the box.
She dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “You know we slept together years ago. Back when he first moved to town.”
“I don’t think this is appropriate—” I started to say, maneuvering my cart so I could squeeze past her and try to forget about this whole horrible exchange.
Of course, Nicola followed me. “Oh, come on, it’s not like I’m the only one to spread my legs for that man. With a face like that, it’s no wonder we were all lining up to get a piece. And I know for a fact they still are. Diane Blevin was telling me about the time they hooked up in the bathroom at Sweet Lila’s. She said it was the single most erotic experience of her life.” She giggled again. It really was a grating noise. “Todd doesn’t like to know about my previous sexual partners and that’s fine, I don’t want to know his either. Knowing those kinds of things can only damage a relationship,” she said sagely.
She was definitely right about that. The more I learned about Jeremy’s past, the more murdery I felt.
“Some things are d
efinitely best left to yourself,” I told her pointedly, hoping she’d get what I was saying.
She didn’t.
“I still think about our time together when I’m... well, you know.” Nicola gave me a knowing look and wiggled her fingers.
Was she really telling me she thought about Jeremy while she was buffin’ the muffin’?
Eww.
“Wow, Nicola, I don’t need to know that.” I really, really didn’t need to know that.
Nicola had the decency to blush. “Sorry, that was probably TMI.”
I nodded. “Absolutely,” I agreed.
“Well, if you ever get the chance to take that man for a ride, go for it, girl. You won’t be disappointed. I wasn’t,” she cackled while patting my shoulder in female solidarity.
I wanted to claw her eyes out.
“Okay, well, thanks for that. I should get going.” I gave her a wave and pushed my cart down the next aisle to try and finish my shopping. When I got to the checkout, I sucked it up and paid for the five boxes of Hamburger Helper I had thrown in during that horrible conversation.
And it didn’t stop there.
I ran into Sheila at the post office. She was on the phone, talking in quiet whispers, obviously trying not to be overheard.
Who was she talking to?
Was she speaking to Jeremy?
The green-eyed monster was a destructive force that I couldn’t escape from. I had sworn that I wouldn’t be that woman, yet here I was, ready to pee all over Jeremy to mark my territory.
The smart thing to do would be to walk away. To put the brakes on this thing with Jeremy before it could get any messier. Before I lost my mind completely and starting pulling bitches’ hair out. Jeremy would understand. It’s not as if he wanted anything more than a nice roll in the hay a couple of times a week. He had been more than happy to keep this thing between us casual and purely physical.
Jeremy Wyatt didn’t do relationships and he didn’t do feelings. Adam had warned me of that years ago and that warning had held up.
Yet, even though I knew it would only end badly, I couldn’t stay away from him.
“Hold on, Marlena,” he growled, lifting me up and carrying me to the counter. God, I loved it when he used my real name. It used to irritate me, but now, when he said Marlena, the girlie parts inside me did somersaults.
Jeremy had come over an hour after work with a bottle of wine in hand. “Thought we could share a drink instead of going to the bar,” he said after closing the door behind him. The bottle of wine was still unopened on the coffee table. I wasn’t sure why he bothered with the pretense. We both knew why he came over. And it wasn’t to drink alcohol together.
There was only one thing the two of us wanted out of this arrangement. And it had everything to do with dipping his wick.
“You’re so fucking hot,” he groaned as he pounded away. I gripped him tightly, scared that if I let go, I’d shatter into a thousand pieces.
“Don’t stop. God, Jeremy, don’t stop,” I pleaded as my hips met him thrust for thrust.
We knocked my coffee canister off the counter. The mugs hanging from hooks underneath the cabinets shook so hard they started falling. We were loud. We were messy. And there was no stopping this train until it hit a wall.
“Ahh,” he shouted at the top of his lungs as he came. I could feel every exquisite inch of him as he pulsated. There was an addictive power in rendering a man like Jeremy Wyatt senseless. His complete loss of control fed something in me that was dark and dangerous. I was terrified that I’d do anything to keep it.
After we finished, we stayed where we were. Jeremy’s jeans around his ankles, my panties pushed to the side. Our faces were slick with sweat and we panted as if we had run a marathon. He kissed my forehead and I wondered if I imagined the way his lips lingered there.
“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” I joked, sounding winded.
Jeremy laughed and I could feel the rumble in every part of me. “On the contrary, Ducate, we need to meet like this more often.”
I gave him a wry look. “We’re already meeting like this several times a week. What more do you want?”
I didn’t expect him to answer, so why was I irritated when he only grinned as he removed the condom, tying it off before tossing it in the trash. What did I think he’d say?
More importantly, what did I want him to say?
What more do you want?
Nothing. That was the only suitable answer.
Jeremy excused himself to use the bathroom. I cleaned myself up and straightened my clothes while he was gone. We had a bad habit of not bothering to undress before having sex. We’d been together half a dozen times by now and every time I still wore my bra. There was something a little sleazy about that.
Oh, grow up, Lena, I scolded myself. You set the rules of sex only, don’t start bitching when he follows them.
Jeremy came back into the kitchen a few minutes later carrying the bottle of wine he had brought with him. “Care for a drink while I’m here?”
He didn’t seem to be in a rush to leave, so I got two glasses out of the cabinet and set them on the counter. Jeremy filled them almost to the brim and handed one to me.
He clinked his glass against mine. “To great sex,” he toasted.
It seemed an incredibly inelegant toast, but appropriate.
“Sure, here, here,” I muttered, downing half the glass.
Jeremy sipped on his, clearly not as eager as I was to get my buzz on. “So, did I interrupt anything? What are your plans for the evening?”
Were we doing chit-chat now?
“We don’t have to do this, you know.” I finished my wine and put down the glass a bit harder than necessary.
“I can’t ask a simple question?” he asked shortly.
I turned around and leaned back against the counter, crossing my arms over my chest. “I mean, does it matter? It’s not as if you’re going to stick around to find out what I was going to do. And that’s okay. I have no expectations. You don’t need to pretend with me. The sex is fantastic. I won’t turn down a roll in the sheets because you didn’t ask me what my favorite color is.”
Jeremy didn’t say anything. He stared at me as if he were trying to read a very complicated text.
“Green,” he said finally.
“Excuse me?” I blinked in confusion.
“Your favorite color is green. I heard you tell Meg when she came by to talk about dresses for her wedding or something.” He lifted his shoulders nonchalantly.
“Uh, yeah, that’s right.” He’d thrown me off balance. It was unnerving. Not able to stand the discomfort, I turned on my Wi-Fi speaker, the jangled strains of my favorite band filling the void.
“You like System of a Down?” He looked at me as if I had grown an extra head.
“What? Did you expect me to listen to pop music or something? There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me, Wyatt.” I bobbed my head in time to the music.
“I’m figuring that out.” And he sounded pleased with that. The song ended, leading into something from Fleetwood Mac’s Rumors album. Jeremy started laughing outright.
“What now?” I demanded, wondering if I should be offended by his amusement.
Jeremy wrapped his arms around me and held me close, kissing the tip of my nose. “I love that you surprise me, Ducate. You’re a fascinating woman.”
I smacked at his chest. “Because of my taste in music? It seems you need to redefine what you find fascinating.”
Then we were laughing and dancing to my weirdly eclectic music collection, our bodies swaying along together in the middle of my kitchen.
He kissed me before I realized what was happening. It felt natural in a different way than sex with him was. This was easy. This was familiar.
This was as scary as hell.
I quickly pulled out of his arms, turning off the speaker and filled up my wine glass again. “Do you have plans tonight? I mean, what does Jeremy Wyatt
do when he’s not tearing it up on the dance floor?” I teased, trying to keep the tone between us light.
I noticed that Jeremy filled his glass with water, which made me put down my wine, feeling like a lush. I was a nervous drinker. Which usually led to me becoming a sloppy drunk. Neither of which was particularly attractive.
“I don’t usually do much in the evening. I work out. Swim laps at the health club. Read the Financial Times. That’s about it.”
I made a face. “Sounds boring.”
“Oh, so I’m boring now, huh?”
I twirled a piece of hair around my finger. “Don’t you ever—I don’t know—watch TV and gorge on potato chips?”
Jeremy’s face became oddly still. “I’ve never really been a TV watcher. I don’t even own one.”
“You don’t own a television? What’s wrong with you?” I scoffed.
“I’ve never watched much TV. I don’t think that makes me strange.” He sounded defensive. As if I had pushed a button I hadn’t known was there.
“Not even when you were a kid? You’re telling me you didn’t wake up on Saturday mornings for cartoons? What kind of nutty child were you?” I asked with a laugh that he didn’t share. His mood had completely changed. I wished I could go back and not ask about TV. For some reason, it seemed to upset him.
Jeremy blew out a noisy breath and rubbed his forehead. “My childhood wasn’t like that.” He looked up at me, his eyes hard and intense.
“Like what?” I asked softly, feeling like we were swimming in uncharted waters. “What was your childhood like then?” Could I ask that? Was it my place? Did I have a right to pry? The truth was I wanted to know these secret, painful parts of him.
“We couldn’t keep a TV because my dad usually broke them when he was drunk. After a while, my parents stopped wasting their money on something that wouldn’t last.” I noticed how he flexed his hands as if he were trying not to hit something. “Of course, that was when the bastard decided to be at home at all. Relaxing in front of the TV wasn’t something I ever experienced, so I wouldn’t know how to do it now. It’s not something I would consider doing in my free time.”
Say You Love Me : An Enemies to Lovers Romance Page 15
