by Lindsey Hart
“Can I do something? What can I say? I want to help. I want to…to fix this for you. Is it fixable? Even a little?”
“Nothing a shower couldn’t fix.” Philippe stands suddenly and abruptly. Like he needs to get away from me. Like he’s scared of being this close. I’m scared too, scared senseless.
“I doubt they do dry-cleaning in the middle of the night, or I’d send your clothes out. I know you told your sister you’d be there in the morning. Neither of us has a change of clothes. Should I…do you want me to go to your house and get something for you?”
“No. Thank you, though. I’ll figure it out.” Philippe starts off towards the bathroom again, but I jump up.
“Philippe!”
He stops mid-stride and stands there. He doesn’t move, and I don’t move either, but I know I have to. I’m the one who yelled his name out like a crazy person. I leap up and stalk over to him. I don’t know what gives me the courage, but there must be some internal well I’m drawing on because I brush my fingers against his knuckles.
“We could always say we got drunk and fell into the Jacuzzi. Do you think it would be a plausible excuse?”
His eyes crinkle and narrow, but his lips quiver a little. I stare at them, and my whole body turns into a riot of sensations and a storm of butterflies. I feel connected to him, and by more than just our intertwined fingers. I set my other hand on Philippe’s cheek.
“I’m lonely too,” I blurt out. Apparently, it’s a good night for embarrassing confessions.
He studies me. This man who, for the longest time, I thought was just my boss. I thought he was a cold, unfeeling monster. I wrote the worst things about him because I thought the worst of him. Now my mind is changing. I need to resist him, but I’m not actually sure how to do that anymore, and it feels strange. It’s like we see each other. We get each other. Like there’s this shitty string that refuses to snap holding us, binding us together. It’s shitty because it’s scary, and I doubt either of us want it to be there, but it refuses to snap, and now we’re here.
So close.
So. Very. Close.
I cup his cheek, which by now is rough with a fresh growth of stubble. I drink him in and let him search and devour me with his misty grey-blue eyes.
“I—I want you to know you mean something to a lot of people. Especially your family. I could see how much your mom and sister love you.”
“And what about you?” His face angles as he leans into my hand.
“I…” I can’t deny him. Not now. I have no defenses left. I’m destroyed. Obliterated. I don’t even know who I am right now. This doesn’t feel real, making me think we might both still be sleeping because I don’t feel like this in real life. I don’t let myself feel like this. Not for Philippe Wilson, my boss. Not for anyone. “I’m here.”
I watch those grey-blue orbs change and darken with lust and desire. He wants me. I should be panicking and backpedaling, withdrawing, but instead, I close my eyes and lean in. I turn off my brain and turn on something else, defying gravity and logic.
And then I’m kissing him.
Philippe Wilson.
My boss.
The man I apparently can’t stand.
CHAPTER 13
Philippe
I’m starting to really like kissing Sutton. A little too much. A lot too much. Her lips are like heaven, and her mouth is like coming home. I could die a happy man (and that’s a big change because I haven’t known what happiness is for years) just from kissing her.
I break it off as Sutton goes in to nip my bottom lip. She misses, and our chins knock together. She pulls away, confusion and anger flaring to life in her eyes. “What the—”
I caress her chin with my thumb. God, I love her chin. She has a beautiful chin. She has a beautiful everything, and I want her mouth. I also want that dress off and in a crumpled heap on the floor, which I know Sutton would gasp at because it was expensive. I want a lot of things I shouldn’t want. And right now, there’s more than a bit of a tingle going on in my dingle. My cock is back to having the same problem I had earlier, and I doubt it’s going to deflate anytime soon because it wants her too.
“I didn’t plan on this…” I stroke her chin, trying to ease some of her annoyance at getting her chin bashed.
“So, you’re suddenly going to act all chivalrous?”
“I said I’d sleep on the floor. And that we’d maintain the pillow wall. If you want this, then you should…well, you should really want it.”
“Thanks for the warning. You don’t think I subtly picked that up just now?”
“If you don’t want it, you should hate talking to me and let me know how much you truly despise me. I’ll go have a shower, then I’ll sit in that chair over there and stare out the window for the rest of the night, and in the morning, we’ll be done with each other.”
“Other than having to see each other every single day at work.”
“I suppose, but you’ll have a nice big raise to make dealing with me bearable.”
“I—I can’t think of anything. You’re putting me on the spot again. I swear you secretly like it. It’s like a new form of dirty talk to you.” There’s a flash in her eyes like she’s got me figured out.
“What if I did?”
“Then I guess it would defeat the purpose of using it as a turnoff.”
“I just want you to be sure. I didn’t plan for this. I didn’t bring anything with me. Are you on the pill?”
Sutton sucks her lower lip into her mouth and worries it unconsciously. “Not really. I mean, I had a shot, but it was seven months ago. And they only last for six. I meant to make an appointment to get it done, but I kept forgetting. And I wasn’t having sex with anyone, so it wasn’t a real pressing need on my mind.”
I can’t pretend I’m not ridiculously pleased with that. The part about her not having sex with anyone, because if there was anyone, I feel like I’d have this insane urge to tear them limb from limb.
“So, we’re not doing this. Not that at any rate.”
“I…you could always pull out.”
I startle at her words, and Sutton’s eyes widen. We stare each other down. “That’s a terrible idea. Obviously! Your grandma was right. That is how babies are made.”
“Okay, so we don’t have to do that. We can just make out and grope each other with our mouths and hands and call it a night.”
“Argh!” I have to pace. There isn’t any other option to release some of the pent up tension within me. “Why would you say that?”
“You’re the one who started this. You were the one who made me stay the night.”
“Yes, I made you do it.”
“You were the one who woke up and was all sad, and you were sad as well down there at the wedding, and you’re the one to blame because your tongue and mouth are way too talented, and how is it my fault I can’t forget the incident that never actually happened!”
“No! You’re not supposed to say things like that. You’re supposed to say you’d rather stick your vagina into a garburator than have sex with me. You’re supposed to say if I stuck my dick into a garburator, it would be so small that there’d be no danger in losing anything. You’re supposed to tell me I smell like rotting garbage and taste like a toad if you licked one. You’re supposed to say my dick probably has warts and is so ugly that it would make you scream in terror and run away, and you’d have to go to therapy after because it would literally haunt you. You’re not supposed to tell me to freaking pull out!”
“You could at least look at me while you insult yourself,” Sutton says in measured tones.
I spin around to find her with her arms crossed. She doesn’t look pissed off though. She actually looks amused. She’s not even making an attempt to hide it.
“If you’re finished, I’d like to say that if you want to have a shower and cool off, I’ll call for a taxi, and I’ll be gone by the time you get out.”
“It’s the middle of the night.”
&nb
sp; “I’m sure I can find something.”
“And if I don’t want to have a shower?”
She doesn’t even blink, and there is no hesitation. “Then we should get naked and take advantage of the Jacuzzi. They probably drain it to clean it up after every guest. It would be a terrible waste not to use it.”
“So, this is a purely economic decision.”
“Yes. Purely.”
“And kissing me earlier? Was that because you felt sorry for me?”
“Yes. Obviously.”
We stand there staring each other down. Neither of us makes a move until I do. I figure enough is enough. I don’t want Sutton to leave, and maybe wasting all that water really is a shitty thing to do. I flinch first in this un-staring staring contest. I tuck my fingers under the damp hem of my t-shirt and slowly roll it up my chest. I yank it over my head with some difficulty because it’s wet, and then I let it drop with a squishy plop to the floor.
Sutton’s eyes graze my chest hungrily. “Biscuits and butter,” she mutters. “Do you have to be so damn chiseled? What’s wrong with you? How many times do you work out a week?”
“I think you mean per day.”
“You work out multiple times per day?”
“Sometimes. It’s a good stress reliever.”
“I already know you eat disgustingly healthy too. You shouldn’t do that. It’s a health hazard.”
“I’m pretty sure it’s not.”
“I’m pretty sure it is. For me.”
I hold her gaze while I unbutton my jeans. I slowly unzip the fly, watching the changes on Sutton’s face. She appreciates what I’m doing, and she practically lights up in anticipation, though she does a good job of trying to keep it to herself.
I slide them down and figure, what the hell, I might as well go for the boxers too. Everything is kind of damp and clingy and hard to actually separate, so it’s half an accident and half a happy occurrence. I’m sure because Sutton’s nostrils flare.
“Holy. Fucking. Shit. Are you for real? No. There’s no way it can be real. Wow. How the heck do you actually get it into your jeans?”
“There’s this method of tucking and rolling…”
“Shut up. There is not.”
“There isn’t.” I casually walk over to the marble basin the Jacuzzi is set into. The steps are marble, and I take them slowly. The water is so hot that it’s like a shock, but I step down and sink up to the waist anyway. It feels good too. Soothing. Scalding. It burns away the nightmares from earlier, and I can feel myself actually relaxing. “This is nice,” I declare overly loudly. I stretch my arms out above my head. “Really nice.”
“You’re such a picklehead,” Sutton grumbles.
I’m not looking at her, but I can hear the whoosh and rustle of clothing. In moments, I hear her soft steps grow closer. I plan on not looking at her as she gets in, but my plan goes to shit the second my eyes land on her shapely calves. After a single look, my cock roars to attention, and my gaze quickly climbs to her creamy thighs, all the way up to the smooth juncture of her apex, up to her flat belly, and up even more to her perfect, pert breasts with the dark buds of her nipples. By the time my eyes travel past her beautiful collarbone and the hollow of her throat where her pulse is thrumming, there’s a beautiful red stain on her cheeks. I feel a little red myself because I just openly ogled her.
She sinks down into the water, covering up all her lithe, curvy feminine beauty. At the risk of sounding like a total and utter male pig, I think it’s a crime for her not to be walking around naked. Like, all the time. Except I’d have to kill anyone else who looked at her. And of course, everyone would be looking at her. She’s commanding. Captivating. Gorgeously shaped like a goddess.
She’s pretty much the whole package. Gorgeous. Smart. Caring. Kind. Beautiful. She doesn’t even like me, yet she’s nice enough to me, and she’s also looked after my ass on more than one occasion now. She has a wicked sense of humor, she’s calm under pressure, and she doesn’t mind me having a total breakdown in public. Or in private.
We’re silent as the water bubbles and swirls softly between us. Sutton stares at me without blinking. I stare back.
“Damn it all to hell,” she mutters. “Can we please make out now?”
CHAPTER 14
Sutton
I can’t believe I just said that. Or…actually, yes, I can. I want to make out with Philippe. I want to do a heck of a lot more than making out. I want to kiss him. Touch him. Lick him. Caress him. Taste him. Stroke him. Maybe he’s off-limits for the other things I want to do because we don’t have a condom, but we can still do some things. We can do things. Things we won’t talk about again because it’s how we roll.
Philippe doesn’t move, but then he nods, and the nod is all it takes to detonate an explosion deep down inside me and simultaneously implode my brain. I slosh my way across the hot tub, Jacuzzi, bathtub thing, whatever the eff it is, faster than the speed of light. In reality, I actually move fairly slowly, because moving against waist-deep water is kind of sludgy and slow going, but to me, it feels fast.
Philippe opens his arms and tugs me down against him. His lips slam down on mine, and we go at each other as if this entire building is going to fall down around us if we don’t. We’re kissing to save the world, for the record, or at least every other guest in this hotel tonight.
My hand shamelessly reaches down through the hot water. Searching. Hungry. If I don’t touch him, I think there’s a good chance I might actually combust, and then the hotel really will go up in flames, and we can’t have that. It would definitely ruin Philippe’s sister’s wedding night, for one thing. For two, I kind of like having my body in one piece, thank you very much.
He knows what I want, and he shifts, thrusting his erection into my hand. It’s freaking huge. So huge I can’t wrap my whole palm around him. Maybe it’s the water that makes him feel like soft, hot velvet over steel, or maybe it’s all him, and the water has nothing to do with it.
I stroke him slowly. From the tip to the base of his cock. His cock throbs in my hand while his tongue throbs in my mouth.
He makes a noise low in his throat when I stroke him again. His whole body vibrates, and his hips thrust into my hand. I want to do so much more than this. I want him thrusting somewhere else. Not just into my hand. I feel empty. So. Very. Empty. My clit throbs in time to all the other throbbing going on, but it’s craving more.
I reach up with my free hand and tangle it in Philippe’s long hair. I love how he’s always worn it long. He’s always been fairly unapologetic for being just him, and I never saw him as having any doubts about insecurities. I didn’t see him properly. Not before tonight. Not even when he had panic attacks before. I never…I never saw that beneath it all, he’s just a person like me.
At least, I think so.
But maybe he’s not. Maybe he’s actually an ancient god brought back to life. It could be possible because he certainly feels like it under my fingertips. In my palm. In my mouth.
When he breaks away, I tear my eyes open and take a second to drink him in. God, he’s glorious. Layers of rippling muscle. Shredded. Everywhere. And he’s huge. Everywhere. He’s easily two or three times my size, and he looks even bigger naked.
I continue stroking my hand down his cock and watch how his eyes close. His head leans back, and his tongue slowly runs along his bottom lip. The hunger erupting in my belly as I watch the bliss roll over him is so raw that I just about forget how to breathe. I do it again, stroking my hand down his shaft and letting my thumb linger and circle the tip. He groans, and his hips jack into my hands.
This guy is my boss. He’s powerful. The head of a massive company. He’s rich, and he’s used to being in charge. In the office, I’m sure some people are actually afraid of him. Here though, he’s just Philippe. He’s just a person. A person I am lucky enough to get to be with. A person I fit with in a way that is way too right. It’s scary how we fit, how our bodies fit. It has to just be our bodie
s because nothing else can fit. It’s too dangerous to think like that.
I stroke him again. Drawing it out. Dragging out the pleasure. Philippe groans. “If you keep that up, I’m going to pick you up and throw you on the bed, and…and torture you until you beg me to let you come.”
“Oh,” I purr, the coyness in my voice surprising me. I’m not a coy person. I don’t even think I’m actually very sexy. No one has ever threatened to torture me until I begged to come. As it is, my ovaries are already begging. My hand squeezes a little too hard, and Philippe makes a strangled noise. I think it’s a good thing.
“Oh?”
“Oh.”
This is real. We’re really doing this, and I’m here. I stayed. I stayed, and now we’re naked together. Touching each other. Philippe’s hand sweeps over my breast. He gently rolls my already taut nipple in his fingers, and now I’m the one letting out a hiss of pleasure and throwing my head back.
“Do you want more? My tongue? My fingers?”
I want all of the above and the option for his cock too, but I know we can’t take things that far. No matter how empty I feel. No matter how much I want to.
“Mmmmm,” I mumble. I think it means yes. I mean, it definitely means yes. It means yes, and I can’t actually say the words, but he gets it. Just in case he has any questions about it though, I set out to banish his doubt.
I somehow have enough sense to arch into him. I miss his lips completely and instead get a whole mouthful of his jaw when I go in for the kiss, but he doesn’t seem to mind. The growl he lets out intensifies, and he does something wonderful to my nipple with his fingers that send sparks shooting all throughout my body.
His hands drop to my waist, and since we’re in the water—although even if we weren’t, I think he would have just as much strength because he’s so freaking huge and so strong—he lifts me easily and sets me down gently on his lap. I straddle him immediately, taking his cock between my legs. I keep him away from the no-zone where I absolutely can’t let him go, but I can’t help arching my hips and grinding a little. And by a little, I mean I pretty much hit my throbbing clit just right, so now I want to beg myself to let myself come.
