My stomach drops at the height of the building but Adrian murmurs in my ear, “You’re safe here, safe from everything except being my fuck toy. Isn’t that what you said you wanted?”
I wonder if they can see me. There’s no other building this tall, but it would only take someone craning their neck to see me bared to the powerful man behind me.
My answer is a moan. He puts both my hands on the cool glass. “Keep your hands up,” he commands me. “And spread your legs.” My breasts press against the glass as my hips are pulled against his crotch. His erection pushes against my ass.
His hand dips down between my thighs and teases up until he’s stroking my clit, alternating it with pushing his fingers inside me until I whimper for more. Then he focuses relentlessly on my clit until I come on his fingers with a cry, shaking against the windowpane. My legs nearly give out and I cling to Adrian as best I can, holding on to him to keep my balance. His lips trail down my neck as he toys with me, bringing me closer and hotter to yet another release. It’s hot and my pulse races, for the sheer force of my orgasm and from the view. The chill of the glass is at odds with how my body hums. He plays me like he knows every inch of me, and I fucking love it. I love what he does to me.
He tells me, “I think I’ll fuck you here.” His fingers slip lower, to a place I’ve only experimented with once. My eyes widen slowly and my lips part in an O. “Have you had anal before?”
I swallow thickly before answering, “Not in a long while.”
“Did you enjoy it?” he questions and I rest my head back, staring down at the city. “It was … different. We didn’t get far,” I admit. A college fling once tried … we were drunk and lube was scarce. “It was a no go for lack of … preparation.”
A deep rumble of consideration comes from his chest as he seems to consider what I’ve told him. “Are you curious?” he asks.
“Yes,” I admit, my heart racing.
“And you would you trust me to do my due diligence?” he questions and I can feel his smile against my neck. His fingers play at my clit again and my “yes” becomes a moan of approval. The thought instantly makes me nervous, but I would let Adrian do anything. I trust him.
“Lie down for me over here,” he says, picking me up and taking me to his sofa. At first I yelp in surprise, clinging to him, but it quickly turns into a short laugh, smiling into the crook of his neck.
He’s gentle as he sets me down on the soft leather cushion. “Wait here.”
He comes back a moment later and puts me into position on his couch, on my belly, knees bent slightly. I’m quick to grab a pillow, laying my cheek against it and wondering what he’ll feel like … there.
Adrian kneels behind me and spreads me wide, his fingers playing at that place, cool and slick with lube. He pushes one finger inside, then two. It’s an odd pressure and it makes me tense slightly before relaxing. The simple act heats my entire body and with it, my head thrashes and I moan gently into the pillow.
“How does it feel?” he questions.
“Good,” I respond in a groan as his other hand finds my clit, his fingers still in my ass. “Fuck,” I moan into the pillow.
“Tell me if anything feels uncomfortable,” he tells me. “This shouldn’t hurt, Suzette. It should feel good.” All I can do is nod with my eyes closed. The sensation is all consuming, tingling every inch of me. With a whimper, I swear it’s more sensitive and more illicit to be fucked like this.
He shifts us to the floor, which gives me a sensation of stability that the couch didn’t, and I feel the head of him against me. I take in a quick breath.
“Push back,” he orders, and I do. My body goes hot as he presses inside.
My hands fist the pillows and he tells me to relax.
“I want you to enjoy this,” he whispers at the shell of my ear, his warm breath and gentle kisses adding to the overwhelming sensation.
With my eyes half-lidded, my lips part and I push back. Strangled moans pour from me. “That’s my good girl,” he urges me on, slowly pulling out and then pushing back in. Adrian murmurs things behind me but doesn’t rush. It’s very slow, and it makes me all the hotter. The full sensation turns to something else, something needy and undeniably pleasurable. Inch by inch I push myself back on him until he’s fully inside me.
It’s that last thrust that seems to shock my system. My eyes go wide and it feels too much, too hot, too full. Just too much.
“Oh,” I gasp. Biting down on my lip, I utter a small grievance. “Stop, no. I don’t know.” It happened too fast, out of nowhere. He stops at once, stilling and my hand grabs the top of his.
“It’s all right. How do you feel?” he questions. Fuck, it’s just so much. I want it, I want him. I want this. It’s a sweet mix of pleasure and pain.
“Scared,” I admit to him, remembering how much it hurt before. It was nothing like this. Not at all, but with a cold sweat on the back of my neck, I swallow down the unwanted memory.
“Just breathe,” he says softly. “Give me a word that means stop.”
“Whiskey,” I say, the first thing that comes to mind.
“I’m going to move, Suzette.”
He does, and it feels overwhelming to the point of paralyzing. There’s not an ounce of control left for me; all I can do is hold on. I’ve never been taken in such a forbidden way before. Adrian is slow at first, then faster and deeper. I clutch a blanket he’s thrown on the floor beneath us. With one hand on my clit, he takes full advantage of pushing me to the edge.
His thrusts get harder and deeper still and if it weren’t for his lips on my neck that beg me to kiss him, I would be writhing beneath him.
“What’s your word, Suzette?”
“Whiskey,” I whisper, feeling the pleasure build and build.
“Good. I need you to remember that.”
I almost ask him why, but he doesn’t give me enough time. Adrian holds me down and fucks me ruthlessly. With deep strokes, he takes me like I’m his fuck toy.
I come instantly, his name on my lips and pleasure like I’ve never felt before rocking through me.
Adrian
Exhaustion lays heavy against me, in the best of ways. The city lights creep through the edge of the curtain and cast a soft glow in the bedroom. The bed is warm and Suzette’s body is molded to mine under the sheets. Her back to my front, my hand over hers. She makes this little humming sound every time I kiss her just beneath her ear. It’s addictive. And when I sleep, I pray I hear it. The contentment, the satisfaction. I could see myself devoted to that soft sound.
“Did you enjoy it?” I question in a whisper at the shell of her ear.
Her response is a hum, a sated one cloaked in sated fatigue. My cock twitches at the memory.
“You’ll tell me if it hurts,” I whisper, bringing my hand to her hip as she presses her ass against me.
“Mm-hmm,” she murmurs. She’s quick to take my hand back, slipping her fingers through mine. Her eyes stay closed. She’s well and thoroughly fucked, and after the night we’ve had, sleep should come easy.
All I can think is that I didn’t ask to fall for her. It wasn’t a part of any plan.
Every detail in the beginning was something I had planned. But she was unexpected, and this is entirely unexpected. Falling for her feels like it changes everything. I don’t know what exactly changed, but everything feels different.
“I’ll dream of you,” she says.
“As you should,” is what I reply. I bite my tongue before I let slip, I’ll dream of you too.
If you’re reading this, put your phone down and listen to your father.
My mother’s text shows on the screen as I pick up my BlackBerry. I can’t help but huff out a humorless laugh before setting it back down and tending to the pan on the stove.
The smell of bacon fills the kitchen as I flip the pancake one last time before slipping it off the skillet and onto the pile of six on the plate.
The fresh fruit was already sliced and
prepared. All I had to do was pour the mix of cantaloupe, berries, and watermelon into the small bowl.
I’m not a chef by any means, but I can manage a simple breakfast.
The stack of pancakes joins the table next to the syrup and butter. Deeming it acceptable, I glance behind me toward the stairs deciding to wait until Suzette is up so she can join me. My BlackBerry buzzes again and I’m not certain if it’s my father, telling me I need to take the weekend off, or my mother, agreeing with him. It could also be a work email, calendar notification or someone else who needs something from me.
With a black coffee in hand, I stalk to the adjacent living room and peer out of the windows overlooking the early morning in the city. It’s already bustling beneath us.
This city never sleeps and, if you want to keep up with it, you can’t either. The only thing that stops me from heading to my office is the knock on my door.
“Come in,” I call out, knowing exactly who it is.
“Mr. Bradford,” Noah greets me, carrying a variety of large department store bags in different colors, half of them with tissue paper peeking out. “This should do, I hope.”
“Have you got everything?” I question, very much focused on the details beneath Suzette’s clothing.
The older man nods, professional but with a knowing look as he sets the bags down. “Ann selected the delicates.” His sport coat and dark jeans are evidence that he has plans, more than likely with his wife.
“I appreciate it. Please let her know I am grateful.”
“Is there anything else, sir?”
“Not at the moment.”
“I’ll be off then,” he says and waves a short goodbye before glancing around the room, I imagine to spot the lady these clothes are intended for.
Much to my gratitude, the front door closes before Suzette quietly makes her way into the room. Her bare feet padding softly on the hardwood floor give her away. With her hair a messy halo, and dressed only in one of my undershirts, she could not possibly look more fuckable.
My grip on the mug in my hands tightens as I suppress a groan.
“Good morning,” she offers, brushing her hair from her face. As her arms fold in front of her she gets reacquainted with my penthouse, glancing around before stopping in front of the set table.
“Good morning. Your clothes arrived.” I motion toward the bags with the mug. “Coffee’s on as well. Should I make you a cup?”
With surprise lightening her gaze, it dances between the bags and myself. “I’m sorry, did you say clothes arrived?”
“I think you could use some caffeine,” I state rather than answering her. As I make my way to the kitchen, the tissue paper crinkles behind me.
“You ordered these for me?”
I pour her a cup, listening to the sounds of her opening each bag. “You needed something to wear home. Cream and sugar?”
“Please.” Tentatively, I take in her posture. She’s not unfamiliar with wealth, but I imagine it can be difficult for a woman like Suzette to readily accept.
“I should pay you back,” she murmurs. I imagine she’s attempting to tally the total.
“It’s a gift.”
“You didn’t have to,” she tells me, still holding an crimson silk shift dress with both of her hands.
“You keep saying that and I’ll keep reminding you, it’s because I want to.” Setting her coffee on the table, I add, “Besides, I will very much enjoy seeing you in that dress.” It’s that deep red shade she seems to love so much. “I just hope it fits you.”
“You’re too much,” she tells me, and I catch her gaze. “Thank you.”
Good. That’s all she needs to say.
“And breakfast?” She finally sets the dress back into the shopping bag, careful with the fabric, and gives me a simper. “You made breakfast?” She selects a small chunk of fruit.
“I thought you might have an appetite this morning.
“You would be right. I’m famished.”
“I was thinking breakfast and then a shower?”
“As much as I like the smell of you and your body wash, I don’t have anything to shower with.”
“Everything you need should be in one of those.” I motion toward the bags.
“Toiletries?” Again she seems surprised. Nodding, I take the seat across from her, making my plate of bacon and pancakes.
She seems shy as she speaks. “Thank you for letting me stay overnight … and for all of this.”
What kind of men has she been with? Did she think I’d fuck her and then send her home in a taxi?
Her apprehension fades as we eat.
“What are your plans for the day?”
“I’m behind on a contract for—” she starts, picking up a slice of bacon and then pauses. “What are the rules for the weekend?”
A short chuckle leaves me and I smirk at her. “We can negotiate those terms, Ms. Parks.”
There it is. Her gorgeous smile and lightheartedness.
“I would like to spend the day with you, but I’m a bit behind with work.” She sighs dreamily and adds, “A man has been distracting me.”
I hum in agreement. “I know what you mean. There’s an exceptionally beautiful and stubborn woman who’s been distracting me as well.”
Her simper widens and she rocks slightly in her seat.
“You look gorgeous, by the way.” She blushes, as if she’s a shy little thing. Does she know how all of these facets of her have me more and more addicted?
I offer, “We could plan on working and fucking, fucking and working. Occasionally we must eat, though.”
The smile dims as she lays her arms on the table, slightly more serious. “As much as that sounds exactly like the productive weekend I’d enjoy, I’m a little sore and I think I’d like to work from home.”
I can’t help that the corner of my lips tips up in an asymmetric smile. “Sore?”
She blushes again. “I think I may need to rest for the day, if you don’t mind.”
Before I can feel any kind of disappointment she questions, “What are your plans for tonight?”
“Wide open, Ms. Parks.”
“Would you like to go on a date with me?”
“You’re asking me out?”
“Officially. Yes. I think the weekends … maybe we could date on the weekends?”
My smile matches hers. “I think I’d like that.”
Suzette
It’s difficult, and unladylike, to eat yogurt and talk at the same time, but I’m managing it. Gail shovels a handful of almonds and raisins into her mouth as well, completely unfazed. We’re both rushing through lunch and it’s not uncommon in the least. Today is different, though. It feels as if everything is riding on this one task delegated from the “team.”
Projected profits and client referrals based on previous numbers. A.k.a., how profitable is our division on its own? I’m more than certain we’ll impress. Perhaps it’s cocky or arrogant, but I know we’re damn good at what we do and, as Gail so eloquently put it, it’s time to whip our dicks out.
Lunch break be damned.
Maddie sits on one end of my desk, watching the conversation as she eats her caesar salad, and another of our coworkers is at her side. His name is Dale and Dale is … well, he’s Dale. He’s got a sharp eye for marketing but his social skills are subpar. So he stays in his cubicle avoiding us as much as he can.
Today, I wish he’d done just that. There’s an uneasiness about him and it puts a damper on the atmosphere that would otherwise be motivating.
“No, listen,” I say to Dale. “I have an idea I want to pitch to you before we part ways again and you leave us to the figures.”
“I’m not sure you should be pitching any ideas.” He gives me a look that definitely means something and my face goes hot.
“What do you mean? I always pitch you ideas. It’s no different for me to do it right now.”
He arches an eyebrow. “Even with all the rumors flying around the offic
e?” At once, my ears turn red hot. Gail pauses mid-chew, her dark brown eyes going wide and Maddie peeks up from her salad.
My heart drops in nervousness. “What rumors?”
“People have seen you with a certain someone,” Dale says, his gaze darting toward the elevator.
“Who?” Maddie asks. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. With numb fingers I drop the mostly eaten yogurt to the small trash can.
As I do, I shoot her a look that gives her all the information she needs to know. Betrayal doesn’t pair well with the sweet yogurt. It tastes far too sour.
Her mouth drops open. Two weeks of seeing Adrian nearly every day, and it was bound to happen. Shakily, I sip my water and take a few deep breaths to calm down, not responding at all to Dale.
“You’re seeing him, aren’t you?” Gail questions to my left. All eyes are on me and I fucking hate it. I knew this would happen. Office trysts always get out. I just wish it wasn’t today of all freaking days.
Dale watches me carefully, as if he’s not sure he can trust me anymore. I don’t like that feeling. It’s a sensation of being accused of something, though he is right that I’m seeing Adrian.
I nod in confirmation. The corners of Dale’s mouth turn down. “So he sleeps with you on the weekend and then fires your coworkers on Monday.”
A chill runs through me at his bluntness, but my back straightens.
Sighing, I put the bottle of water down on my desk. “That’s pretty much how it is.” My tone is bitchy yet stern as I meet his gaze head-on.
“And none of that has anything to do with the last decade of work I’ve put into this client list. So,” I say and glance over my shoulder at Gail, “back to putting together this presentation because as much as I wish fucking Adrian would save our asses, we both made it very clear that lines would not blur.” I pause, waiting for Dale to say anything at all. For Maddie or Gail to pipe up.
A long moment passes with a heat tingling at the back of my neck.
“What if you tried blow jobs too?” Maddie says, then shrugs and Dale shakes his head although there’s a hint of his smile showing.
Tell Me You Want Me Page 10
