I kissed her, harder, hauling her even closer, up onto my lap. She spread her legs so that her knees were on either side of my thighs and she was sitting on my hard cock. I could feel the heat of her inner thighs through my jeans. Given how loose her shirt was, it was easy to slip a hand under it and grip her ass so I could grind her against me.
Isla had a narrow waist and an ass that was made for slapping. She was all curves and soft flesh and I needed to touch her everywhere. She’d been torturing me all week and now I was going to make her pay for it. I took the shirt she was wearing and pulled it over her head. I tossed it behind me and leaned back slightly to take in the sight of her.
“You’re a very gorgeous woman,” I told her, loving the way she gave me a confident smile as I swept my gaze over her body. She had high, full tits with nipples that practically begged for my mouth on them. That narrow waist, the firm legs. Damn, she was just so fucking hot.
“Thank you. I think my ass is my best feature.”
“You have a lot of great assets.” I shifted my hands to her arms and I pushed Isla down onto the bed. I took my time, running my hands over her soft skin, her curves, teasing a finger over her nipples, enjoying the way she responded. She gave a low moan when I rolled her nipple between two fingers, as I dipped my head down to press a kiss on the front of her black panties. The black didn’t surprise me. It seemed to be her favorite color.
I shifted the fabric and slipped my tongue inside her. She was already wet and that got me harder than hell. She wanted me as much as I wanted her. Maybe her flirty comments all week had affected her as much as me.
They must have, because without warning she gripped my head and had a quick orgasm. She let out a surprised cry. “Oh, geez, where did that come from?” she asked, sounding completely shocked. “I wasn’t expecting that.”
I felt a ridiculous amount of pride that I had made her come in about sixty seconds. “Damn it, that was fucking hot, Isla.”
Easing back, I released my grip on her panties so that I could reach up at the waistline of them and fully take them down off of her. When she was fully naked, I sat back and undid the buttons on my shirt as quickly as possible. Once it was off, I kissed her, because I wanted to take her mouth. Isla responded eagerly, kissing me back with deep sensual presses of her lips to mine.
I bit her lip, because I felt pent up with sexual energy and I needed to be aggressive, to feel everything about her. She responded by smacking the back of my thigh.
“No biting?” I asked, pulling back slightly to gauge her expression.
“No, I meant that as a ‘do that again and maybe harder this time.’”
Fuck. I should have known Isla wouldn’t be shy about saying what she wanted. Or that she would like it a little rougher. “Whatever you want.”
I bit her lip again, harder. She gasped, her head falling back. “Oh, yes.”
Shifting I drew her nipple into my mouth. I teased my tongue over the bud, sucked a little. Then gave a quick nip. She gave a low moan of encouragement. “Yes, Sean. More.”
It spurred me on. More I could do. I moved down the landscape of her luscious body and flicked my tongue over her clit several times, before sucking it gently. Then I bit it, not hard, but enough that she gave a sharp cry. Then I ate her again, in earnest, deep plunging strokes while she gripped my hair so tightly it would have hurt if I was able to feel anything other than overwhelming lust for this woman.
The intensity of my desire shocked me, as did how much I loved hearing my name on her lips when she exploded. I sat back, wiped my mouth, and shoved my jeans off. She was panting hard and staring up at me with glassy eyes.
“Do you have a condom?” I asked, hating myself for not being prepared. But I’d been planning to go straight home after work, not nail my sous chef. The thought reminded me just how stupid what we were doing was. But it wasn’t like that had ever stopped me before.
She nodded. “Nightstand drawer.”
Yes. And fucking yes. It was go time. I yanked the drawer open so hard it almost fell on the floor. Inside were two condom packets, so I grabbed one and opened it. I was going to roll it onto my cock when Isla’s hand wrapped around my wrist.
“Let me do it,” she said, her voice husky with arousal.
“Whatever you want.” I wasn’t going to complain about her touching me in any way.
That proved to be a smart decision when she gripped my cock, stroking up and down several times, squeezing the base, before she put the condom on. She seemed to enjoy it almost as much as I did. I liked how Isla took what she wanted.
“Fuck me,” she said, hooking her leg around mine.
Yep. Isla knew what she wanted.
With one movement, I thrust my cock inside her. She moaned. I paused, closing my eyes. “I’ve been waiting to finish this for four months,” I said.
The look she gave me was one of curiosity and I might have been concerned I had revealed too much except that her pussy felt so fucking good and that was all that mattered at that moment. It was the truth. I’d been thinking about her, wanting her, since the night we’d met in the elevator.
And now I had her.
She slapped the back of my thigh. “So what are you waiting for? Finish it.”
Oh, she was really asking for it, and given the look on her face, she knew it. She gave me a sly smile.
“I’ll finish you,” I told her, as I started to move inside her, the feel of her body surrounding my cock making me urgent and restless.
I didn’t hold back, because she clearly didn’t want me to. She could take as good as she gave and I pounded into her with a fast, hard rhythm. This wasn’t the time to take it slow, to tease her. This first time needed to be about meeting this driving need I’d had for her all week.
“Sean,” she said, sounding breathless as each thrust pushed her against the headboard. “You feel so good. Give me all that hard cock.”
That she didn’t hesitate to say what she wanted, what she needed was the biggest turn-on ever. We locked eyes as she gave a shudder and had another orgasm. There was something about the connection between us that had me joining her in falling over the edge, way faster than I would have intended. She was just so gorgeous and so easy to arouse that when I stared down into her rich, chocolate eyes, and saw that desire for me, I couldn’t hold back any longer.
I gritted my teeth and let the ecstasy wash over me.
It was a deep release and immensely satisfying.
The feeling was immediately chased by a sensation that this was too much. That I needed to pull back and get the hell out of there. Yep. This had been one of the stupidest things I’d done in recent memory because now that I’d had Isla, I just wanted more.
This felt like a preamble to a string of hot, erotic nights together.
Except we couldn’t do that.
There was no having a relationship with her because I didn’t do relationships like that, but more to the point, we worked together. I was her boss. There was no way that wouldn’t get messy, so this had to be it. One time. The problem with that? I wanted more. Way, way more.
I had fucked Isla and in doing so I had fucked myself.
Seven
Trying to remember how to breathe, I lay underneath Sean and wondered how it was possible to have had sex that amazing with something I wasn’t even sure I liked. Respected as a chef? Yes. Liked? The jury was still out. Apparently that didn’t matter because the sex had been stellar.
“This was a great idea,” Sean said.
It was the best idea. Maybe ever.
“Now we don’t have to have this tension between us. We got it out of our system.”
He was still in me, but sure, right. If he meant that he was satisfied with the sex, I would agree with that. I was satisfied. “Yes. You’re definitely out of my system.”
For the next five minutes, anyway. Now that I knew what it felt like, I wanted more. Greedy, grabby hands, give me some more of that dick. I knew that was a terribl
e idea but it didn’t make me want it any less.
“Same here. This was the right move to make. Because it was getting awkward at work and neither of us want that.”
“Why was it awkward?” I asked, wanting a little clarification.
“Because we had unfinished business from that kiss. Now we can just be co-workers and we won’t have any of this between us.” He gestured to our naked, sweaty, and still thoroughly entwined bodies.
I wasn’t sure what point he was trying to make, but it would be really fantastic if he just stopped talking. I made a noncommittal sound and tried to hang on to my afterglow.
“Should we shake on it?” he asked, giving me what he probably thought was a charming smile.
“Shake on what?” I eyed Sean. “I swear if you stick your hand in my face right now, I will smack it away,” I told him, losing my grip on any sort of post-orgasm good vibes.
He frowned. “I was actually kidding. What’s wrong?”
Wow, he was clueless sometimes. “Nothing. Can you just get off of me? You’re crushing me.” His weight had been pleasant until he had started discussing us never having sex again while we were kind of still having sex.
“Oh, sorry.” He rolled to the side and propped himself on his arm, looking concerned. “Was I too rough?”
Oh, dear God. Did he know me at all? I was not the woman who would suffer in silence if I didn’t enjoy something.
“Of course not. I would have told you if it was. You’re just talking about us being done when you’re still on top of me. It’s kind of rude.” And maybe slightly hurtful. I didn’t want to have sex with him again either. Well. I did. But I couldn’t. I knew that. But he was acting like I was nothing more than a mild itch he had scratched.
It didn’t feel like a mild itch to me. It felt enormous. Our chemistry felt intense.
He swore. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Sometimes I speak before I think.”
“Sometimes?” I rolled my eyes and sat up. I reached for the T-shirt that had been tossed in the direction of the headboard. Pulling it on over my head made me feel better. I needed clothing between us.
Sean didn’t say anything. He just lay there in my bed, on top of my comforter, all naked nonchalance. I hadn’t even gotten a chance to touch all of that masculine hardness and now it was over. The silence drew out too long. It felt awkward, so I stood up and went to the bathroom. When I came back out, I released Scott from the kitchen and sat down on the edge of the bed so I could pull on my joggers, which was what I should have done in the first place instead of having sex with Sean.
He’d thought we were awkward at work all week? Please. This was awkward.
He had sat up and pulled his jeans back on. He was scratching his beard and still saying nothing. I didn’t want to regret our impulsiveness but at the same time I just wanted him to say something or go home.
Finally, exasperated, I asked him, “Why aren’t you saying anything?”
“Because I’m afraid I’ll say the wrong thing and piss you off. Silence seems the safest course of action.”
He had a good point. I rolled my eyes. “You’ve already pissed me off. How much worse could it get?”
“Oh, I’m pretty sure I could make it a lot worse without even really trying.”
That amused me. I fought the urge to smile. “Maybe you should go home. We can pretend this never happened.” I couldn’t be angry with him. I’d jumped right in with both feet. “I promise I won’t wear tight jeans to work anymore.”
Sean sighed, a deep heavy sigh. “Sure. That sounds like a plan.”
And that was that. Apparently we were just going to leave it there without any further conversation. Which felt dangerous, but at the same time, what else was there to say? We knew the score. We couldn’t be involved with each other, given our careers.
Sean pulled his shirt off the floor and stuck his arms through the sleeves. I was sad to see that chest disappear but it was for the best.
“Well. Thanks for the orgasms,” I said, when he shoved his feet into his shoes and stood up.
He gave me a smile and a head-shake. “Only you, Isla. Only you. But likewise.”
“What? I was trying to be polite.” I wasn’t really sure what else to say and frankly, now that we were both back in clothes, I had a burning need to have him get the hell out of my apartment.
The tension between us was uncomfortable. Now we had both sexual tension and awkwardness.
I needed to be on solid ground again. Bad enough that my comforter was going to smell like him and that I was going to be forced to lie in bed remembering the feel of him inside me. I couldn't manage small talk for the next twenty minutes.
“I appreciate the politeness.” Sean moved to the door, giving Scott a wide berth. My cat had strolled out of the kitchen like he’d never been trapped in there, but had chosen to be in there behind a closed door.
Now he was sitting on his haunches eyeing Sean like he was debating the best moment to attack.
“See you tomorrow,” Sean said.
“Yep. Thanks for bringing my phone.”
He nodded. For a second he just stood in front of my door but then he leaned forward and kissed me. It was unexpected, and it wasn’t like our previous kisses. It was almost… tender. It caught me off guard and made me shiver. Almost immediately it was over.
Sean ran a thumb over my lip. “Bye,” he said gruffly.
“Bye.” That’s what it was. We couldn’t do this again and yes, it might have stung a little that he had brought that reality up so quickly but he was right.
And maybe I didn’t hate Sean Kincaid quite as much as I thought I did.
It was a relief not to have to dress like I was going clubbing, but that was the only thing that didn’t suck ass about going to work the next day. I had barely slept, wondering what was wrong with me that I would actually jeopardize my entire career for a little action with the executive chef. That made me certifiable.
Sipping my coffee as I walked down the street, I lifted my free hand and eased my topknot. It was too tight and I had a headache. Or maybe that was the lack of sleep. Either way, my head hurt. I hadn’t bothered with any makeup and I had barely managed to drag a brush through my hair. I didn’t need to look cute. If anything, it would help the situation if I looked a hot mess, which I did. Sean didn’t do lunch service, so at least I wouldn’t have to see him for a few hours. We closed for two hours between lunch and dinner service and I had to help him prep but then I could go home and put on pajamas and watch something on Netflix. Not something that would make me cry, because I never cried, but maybe something where buildings were blown up. That would suit my mood.
I had wrapped a knit scarf around my neck because it was chilly and I needed the cozy feel of it against my skin. Back in my combat boots, I felt more in control than I had in sexy shoes.
But I still got a double take from Carla, the server, when I came into the kitchen. “Rough night?” she asked, voice filled with sympathy.
Obviously I looked as bad as I felt. “Something like that.”
“Drink a Bloody Mary. It will fix you up right away. I can go ask Courtney to make you one.”
Courtney was the day bartender. I opened my mouth to say I wasn’t hungover, then decided it actually might help my headache. “Sure, thanks.”
She gave me a smile. “I’m on it. I’ll tell Juan not to ask you any dumb questions today.”
That made me laugh. “Come on, leave Juan alone. He asks questions because he’s afraid to do something wrong. I can’t find fault with that.”
“I don’t know. He just follows me around.” Carla twisted her nose ring. “I think he’s crushing on me.”
“Dating in the workplace is a bad idea,” I said, like a complete hypocrite. I mean, it was true. I just had totally ignored that fact.
“Ew! I don’t want to date Juan. He’s like two years younger than me.” Carla gave me a grin. “If I was going to date anyone here, it would be Chef. He’s ho
t.”
I paused in unraveling my scarf around my neck. I breathed through my nose, and raised my coffee to my mouth so that my face was partially hidden. Okay, that really bothered me. Carla and Sean? Nope. That was not cool. “He’s kind of old for you,” I said, striving for casual. “And he’s your boss.”
“No, he isn’t. I’m front of the house, so Nico is my boss.” She raised her eyebrows up and down. “Besides, I could find another job serving if it got really hot between us.”
Wow, she had this all figured out. “Hmm. I guess so.” What else could I say? I couldn’t exactly tell her she should never put a man before her job when I had Chef balls deep in me the night before.
“How old do you think he is?” she asked. “Thirty? That’s not too old. I’m twenty-three.”
I had no opinion on age gaps in dating except when it was someone trying to steal a guy from me I didn’t want. Riddle that one out. “He’s not thirty. He’s at least thirty-five.” I didn’t know exactly but I did know that Michael was forty-three and Sean was his younger brother, so I thought I was in the ballpark. Besides, he didn’t look young. He had a maturity to the way he looked. No baby face anywhere. Just a rough, masculine, fully adult male. “Maybe Sean’s even forty.”
Slapping my coffee down on the prep table I yanked my scarf off and squeezed it, hard, wishing like hell I wasn’t picturing him over me the night before.
“You think I’m forty?”
I jumped and whirled around to see Sean standing there, looking amused. And maybe slightly pissed.
“Holy shit, you scared me. What are you doing here so early?”
Carla disappeared promptly, her cheeks pink. She was probably wondering exactly how much of our conversation he had heard. I was wondering the same.
“Nico called me. Sarah can’t come in today. She has the flu. He thought you might need an extra hand.”
“He could have asked me first before dragging you in here.” I was a little insulted.
“You’re right. He could have.” Sean pulled his sweatshirt off over his head, causing the T-shirt underneath to rise up, exposing his rock-solid abs.
Who’s The Boss? Page 9
