Crave: The Nora Heat Collection

by Shanora Williams

  I looked down, swallowing. He was hard. So hard. He pulled his thick, beautiful cock out and I looked up, meeting blue eyes.

  "Open your mouth," he commanded, and as badly as I wanted to tell him no, I couldn't. I wanted to taste him. I'd wanted him all week long. Plus, when it came down to this—to having any kind of sex with him—I always obeyed. I submitted. God, I loved to submit and he most definitely loved to control.

  I dropped my chin and before I could get comfortable, Jude shoved himself into my mouth, groaning ravenously when the head of his cock hit the back of my throat. I couldn't help but gag around him as he planted his palms on the wall inches above his head, and started a hard, quick thrust into my mouth.

  "You can go on your little date, Jenna," Jude groaned. "But just remember that your pussy—this mouth—is mine. All mine." He thrust again, and my eyes watered, but I relaxed my throat and let him fuck my mouth. I realized this wasn’t to please me. It was to please him. I had no idea why, but I wanted to finish the job.

  "Shit," he sighed, driving in again. "Look up at me," he ordered.

  I looked up and his eyes flamed blue.

  "You'll see him," he murmured, dropping a hand and stroking my hair back, "but you'll only be thinking about me. He'll try to take what's mine...but you won't let him. Will you?"

  I shook my head.

  His nostrils flared when I swirled my tongue around the tip of his cock. He pulled out, showing off his hard, full length, and then shoved himself back in again, grabbing my head with both hands and fucking my mouth faster. The tears tipped over. I could feel them running down my cheeks—could hear myself gagging around him, but I loved this. No, wait. I hated it. Shit, I didn’t know what I liked. Who was he to get upset about my date when he was tied up with Michaela? Even with these thoughts, I still didn’t want to stop pleasing him.

  "I know you won't let him...because he isn't me." He looked down again. "Fuck, look how sexy you look with my cock in your mouth." He stiffened then, watching my eyes for a brief moment before focusing on the lips sealed around his cock. "Shit, Jenna. I'm about to come."

  With those words in the air, Jude stilled and unleashed a hard, course moan, coming in a matter of seconds. He filled my mouth, and I swallowed it all down like it was my favorite drink.

  He pulled out after releasing a long sigh, jolting as I pushed forward on my knees and licked him clean.

  "Damn, Jenna," he breathed. He stepped back and then reached down to grab my hand, bringing me to a stand. After a brief silence, he asked, "Are you going to fuck him?"

  I watched his eyes, watched the curiosity burn deep in them. He really wanted to know.

  "Why do you care? We only fuck, right?" I snapped at him, fixing my skirt and blouse, using the back of my hand to wipe the wetness off my mouth. “At least, that’s what you always tell me.”

  He hesitated, lowering his gaze as I swiped the dampness beneath my eyes away.

  “You’re right.” Stepping back, he fixed his pants and then shoved his fingers through his hair before giving me his back. "I will see you tomorrow, Miss Taylor.”

  When he said that, I swear my heart almost failed me. I was hoping he'd prove me wrong—tell me I meant more to him than just a fuck—but it was obvious I didn't mean much to him at all.

  I was just his secret Sunday fuck.

  I turned and stormed out of his office without so much as a goodbye. After practically shoving the folders into the filing cabinet, I gathered my handbag and keys and headed for the elevator.

  I boarded and before the doors drew to a close, I saw Jude standing in front of the window again, staring out of it. When the elevator chimed and the doors started to close, he looked over his shoulder and found my eyes.

  And maybe I was crazy, still so goddamn delusional, but I saw something in them.

  Something that both intrigued and confused me.

  Disappointment.

  SIX

  JENNA

  “Oh, come on, Jenna! You can’t do this! You can’t let that jerk win!” Carrie threw her hands in the air with exasperation. She was fully dressed when I got home, her strawberry-blonde hair pulled up into a tight, smooth bun and her makeup practically flawless.

  As soon as I walked into the apartment, I yelled dramatically that I wasn’t going on the date. She rushed out of the bathroom demanding to know why, so I told her.

  I told her it was because Jude was right. I wasn’t going to be able to stop thinking about him and this date wasn’t even going to compare to Sundays.

  Carrie wasn’t having it. She hadn’t had a night off in weeks, so she wanted this night out. She worked hard as manager of one of the hottest lounges in Malibu that she didn’t have the time to do much else. She had a day and night schedule. She hardly even had time to spend with Brad. She took this Friday off just to hang out with me and I was ruining it. I felt horrible.

  “Come on,” Carrie whined, grabbing my hand and tugging on it. “He’s your boss, Jenna. He’s not your boyfriend. You don’t owe him a damn thing. How is it you can watch him talk to that Michaela bitch, but you can’t will yourself to go out for tacos and tequila with a really hot guy? That’s, like, the perfect date.”

  She had a point. “I don’t know, Car. I just—I don’t know! He gave me a look before I left, like he would be disappointed or hurt if I did something with someone else.”

  “Well, guess what!” she snapped. “That motherfucker doesn’t own you! Outside of the office, you are Jenna fucking Taylor and you run the show. You aren’t on the clock and for God’s sake, it isn’t Sunday, so get your ass in the shower, get dressed, and let’s go get some tacos. I’m fucking starving.” She pointed at my bathroom door and I let out a small laugh. I loved her to bits and pieces. She knew just how to cheer me up and always had the perfect pep talk.

  Plus, she wasn’t the only one starving. I needed food. Stat.

  “You know what?” I stood up, going for the outfit already hanging on my closet door. “You’re right. Screw him. He’s not my Keeper. Tonight, I’m going to meet Tyler. He’s too hot to pass up.”

  Carrie winked. “That’a girl. I’m gonna finish getting ready. Let me know when you’re done showering so I can style your hair.”

  “Okay.”

  She was out of my room and walking back to hers. I went to the bathroom and started up the shower. Before I got undressed, I heard my phone chime and went for it. I thought it was going to be a text from Tyler but it wasn’t.

  It was an email from Jude.

  Subject: Tell me where you’re going

  I need to know where you’ll be. Restaurant? Bar? Where?

  Judas Clement,

  C.E.O of Clement Architecture

  I chewed on my bottom lip, debating whether to return his email or not. Why did he want to know? Seriously, it was none of his business.

  Subject: Re: Tell me where you’re going

  I’m not on the clock, Mr. Clement, therefore I don’t need to fill you in on my whereabouts right now. But just to give you a little peace of mind, it will be taco and tequila night. I’m very excited about it, too.

  Jenna Taylor

  Executive Secretary of Clement Architecture

  He responded almost immediately.

  Subject: Re: Re: Tell me where you’re going

  Well from now on, you’re always on the clock. Tell me where your date will be, Jenna. Don’t mess with me and don’t drink too much tequila. I know how you get when you’ve had too much.

  Judas Clement

  C.E.O of Clement Architecture

  I had to laugh out loud at that one. Don’t mess with him? When he messed with my heart daily. Oh, please. I clicked away.

  Subject: Re: Re: Re: Tell me where you’re going

  I know you remember how I get when I’ve had too much tequila. You called me your naughty girl because I did everything for you when I drank it on our second Sunday. Can you imagine me drinking it tonight? I wonder just how naughty I’ll get for my
date…

  Unfortunately, I don’t clock in until tomorrow morning, so I won’t be filling you in about where I’m going or what I’m doing. And even at work, I won’t really have to tell you because telling you about what I do outside of office hours isn’t a part of the job. Don’t think so? Let’s take it up with HR.

  Have a good night, Mr. Clement.

  Until tomorrow morning,

  Jenna Taylor

  Executive Secretary of Clement Architecture

  I knew that was going to sting. Hell, it stung me and it wasn’t even directed toward me. But maybe he would get a taste of what I felt. Feeling lost and confused. Feeling like I wasn’t enough. Letting someone else steal the shine, when really, we were the ones who should have been put on display for the entire world to see.

  With that response, I was even more eager to get to my date. I took a shower and got dressed as quickly as I could, then called Carrie in to style my hair. When she was finished and my ensemble was complete, she stepped back and looked at me, smirking.

  “Now you are one fine-ass bitch,” she said.

  I broke out in laughter. “Is Brad meeting us there?”

  “Yeah, he’s about to leave his place now so, come on! Let’s get going. Because of your pity party, we’re running late.”

  “Okay, but you’re driving,” I told her. “I won’t even attempt to drive in these six-inch beauties.”

  SEVEN

  JENNA

  Tyler was even hotter in person than he was in the pictures. His auburn hair was styled almost surfer-like, not to mention he was built like one too, lean and muscled. Even beneath his T-shirt and khaki’s, I could tell he was fit. He was twenty-five, a year younger than me, though he could have passed for being a little older.

  I wrapped my lips around my straw and sipped my margarita, listening to him talk about his job as a mechanic. He was blue collar, the complete opposite of Judas Clement, but there wasn’t a damn thing wrong with that.

  Tyler’s eyes shifted down to my lips and he stopped mid-sentence, studying my mouth. “You have beautiful lips. You know that?” He smiled.

  I blushed, not even realizing that my lips going around the straw was a flirtatious, sexy thing that most men found seductive. To be honest, this drink was sparing me from saying anything stupid. I didn’t want to ruin this, so I laughed, tucking my hair behind my ears.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “Would you like another drink?” he asked and I looked down at my half-empty glass.

  “Sure. But how about we do a shot of tequila this time,” I suggested.

  Tyler winked. “I like the way you think.”

  We were seated at the counter and he called for the bartender. As he tried getting the bartender’s attention, I heard the front door squeak on its hinges and looked over.

  Oh fuck! No, he didn’t–

  He stepped into the bar, scanning his surroundings like he owned the place—or could own it with a scribble in his checkbook. He wiped the sleeve of his dress shirt off, as if imaginary dirt had landed on it, and then he turned his body my way. His eyes found mine before I could pull away and my breath dwindled.

  Jude.

  What the hell was he doing here?

  My eyes shifted over to Carrie and Brad, but they were on the small dance floor, dancing to a song by Pitbull. I knew once Carrie saw him, she would save me, pull me away and take me home.

  But this was her first night out in weeks. She had Brad. She was smiling and laughing and having a great time, plus she had been drinking, and a drunk Carrie was an oblivious Carrie.

  Was I going to be so selfish as to ruin things for her and cut the night short? No. I couldn’t. But I so desperately wanted to.

  Jude smirked at me, a smug expression I wanted to slap right off of his beautiful face. I dropped my gaze, turning around again and looking at Tyler.

  Suddenly, I was on edge, and as if Tyler noticed, he asked, “Hey, you okay?” He rubbed my arm and I somewhat froze. “Is it because of what I said earlier? About your lips? Shit—I’m sorry. I hope it didn’t come off as weird or too forward or anything.”

  “No—no! Oh, my gosh, no. Not at all. I’m fine,” I assured him.

  His hand fell to my lap and he squeezed my bare thigh with sincere eyes. He pulled away when the bartender showed up with our shots of tequila. “Here. Take this tequila as my sincerest apology,” he said, handing me one of the shot glasses.

  I accepted it, and couldn’t help glancing back at Jude, who was now walking over to a table in the corner. He sat down, but kept those cold blue eyes on me.

  How the hell did he even find out where I was?

  “So, let’s make this drink out to the possibility of many more dates together? Maybe?” Tyler smiled boyishly, catching my eyes again, and I grinned.

  “To the future,” I beamed, but it was so forced. Fortunately, he didn’t notice that. He smiled, we touched glasses, and then we both chugged the tequila shot down. I winced as Tyler let out a hoarse gasp.

  “Man, that was strong,” he laughed. And I smiled, sipping what was left of my margarita to chase it down. “Your friends seem to be having fun.” He watched them for several seconds. “Wanna join them?” He pointed a thumb back with a charismatic grin.

  Normally, I would be all up for dancing, but with Jude around, I was tempted to be on my best behavior, which meant no dancing. But then I thought about what Carrie said earlier. Jude Clement didn’t own me. Outside of the office, I was Jenna fucking Taylor and I ran the show.

  I didn’t answer Tyler. Instead, I grabbed his hand and tugged him off his stool, leading the way to the dance floor and letting my actions speak for me.

  The lights were only slightly dim, but I didn’t mind one bit. Jude would see everything and I wanted him to watch me having a good time. I wanted him to know that my life didn’t revolve around the office, Sunday mornings, and Judas Clement.

  Tyler smiled when I turned around to look up at him. I started dancing and so did he, and then he grabbed my hips, spinning me around so my ass was buried in his groin. I shimmied to a song by Rihanna while facing my boss.

  Jude was now sipping from a tumbler filled halfway with ice and amber liquid. His eyes were anything but gentle and warm. They were icier than I’d ever seen them before. He watched us dance, and I had an overwhelming sense of dread tugging in my belly. Maybe it was that shot of tequila, or maybe it was because I knew, with that cold, icy look alone, that I was fucked. Maybe he would fire me. Maybe he would cancel Sundays. Maybe he’d curse me out or bury me in paperwork.

  I didn’t know.

  “You smell so good, Jenna,” Tyler breathed in my ear. I could feel him getting hard, digging into my ass. “I’m so lucky to have scored this night with you.”

  He was so sweet. Maybe too sweet. I wasn’t used to sweet. I was used to harshness, sarcasm, and demands.

  I found Jude’s eyes again, running my tongue over my lips. He stared intently, watching as I ran my hands over my breasts and then down to my thighs. At first, he seemed irritated, but now he seemed a little turned on.

  He still had that agitated look, though. His jaw ticked as he watched Tyler’s hands roam my body. When our eyes met, his eyes flashed from the lanterns hanging above the tables.

  I figured it was enough torture by the end of the song, so I turned around and told Tyler I needed to use the ladies room. He nodded and turned, going back to the bar and holding up a hand for the bartender.

  Before I could get too far away, I glanced back and looked at Jude. He was staring at Tyler with a hard frown. Oh, God. I hoped he wasn’t going to pick a fight. Jude had a temper on him. I’d witnessed it once, during a meeting that didn’t go over so well.

  Despite knowing it, I rushed to the bathroom, looking at myself in the mirror. I was a little sweatier, so I yanked some paper towels out of the holder and swiped under my armpits.

  I was wearing a black sequined belly shirt and a maroon skirt. My black heels were way
too high for my own good, and I knew by the time I got home my feet would be killing me.

  I fluffed my hair and then let out a breath. I had no idea why Jude was here. Why did he just show up? I wasn’t anything more than sex to him. I knew that and I knew it well, so what possessed him to find me?

  I finished up with a light coat of lip-gloss and a touch-up of my mascara, and then I headed for the door. But as soon as I stepped out, I spotted Jude standing across the hall, waiting for me. I gasped and stopped abruptly.

  The sole of one of his shoes was pressed on the wall, his hands buried in the front pockets of his suit pants.

  The hallway that led to the bathrooms had very dim lighting, so not many could see us, but I could see the counter from here—could see Tyler waiting for me to return as he scrolled through his cellphone.

  “Having fun?” Jude asked, his voice coarse.

  “How did you find out where I was?” I asked, frowning at him.

  “I Googled local places that would be having taco and tequila nights on a Friday night. There were only two restaurants doing it this month. This one and another one closer to the beach. I tried the one at the beach first. You weren’t there, so I tried this one.”

  “Jude, I don’t understand why you even showed up. Why does it matter to you where I am or what I’m doing?”

  Jude pushed off the wall, his eyes boring into mine. He came closer and I was losing my breath all over again. I glanced to the left and saw Tyler sitting there, sipping a fresh beer. I could also see Carrie and Brad murmuring into each other’s ears.

  “I don’t like this date you’re on, Jenna,” he said. “I’m not okay with it.”

  “Well, that’s unfortunate, Jude. Tonight isn’t about you. I already told you, it’s not Sunday.”