Never Let Go: A Collection of Sensual Short Stories

by Tiffany Allee

  Her whole body shook slightly, from the orgasm and probably still a little from the cold, even though she could no longer feel anything but the flush of heat he’d caused her. Even after he moved his hand away and straightened her skirt, she trembled. He pulled her to him and held her close. Warming her. Comforting her. Keeping her safe.

  When she opened her eyes, she realized half of the bus’s passengers were gone. She’d felt people brush past her on their way out as she’d recovered, but hadn’t really processed it. Only a few stragglers remained near the front, and the man who was sleeping on the bench beside them was still knocked out.

  The bus must be nearing the end of its line. How long had she settled into the stranger’s warmth—into his arms? She must have missed her stop, because she was pretty sure they were getting close to where she’d gotten on.

  She couldn’t quite get her mind around what had just happened. Had she really allowed a stranger—a man whose face she’d never even seen—make her come on a bus, with dozens of people around them?

  She had to fix this. Had to turn around and introduce herself. Or—even better—run away the second the bus stopped again. They rounded another bend and she pulled away from the man, putting a few inches of space between them. She wasn’t even sure where she was in the city. Surely they hadn’t already passed her stop.

  Forcing a deep breath, she turned around—or tried to. The man’s hand was back on her hip, and his other hand was on the railing, still hiding much of their bodies from view. He held her firm, and she felt his erection against her ass.

  He rubbed himself in the cleft, slowly to avoid attracting the attention of the people who remained in the front seats of the bus. He thrust like he was fucking her, stretching her. As if he’d actually pushed himself into her pussy.

  Damn. Of course, he must share her fantasy of having sex in public—or as near to sex as they could get on a crowded bus without being arrested. And maybe—just maybe—he’d stopped her from turning around because he liked the idea that she hadn’t seen his face? Maybe he liked that she was letting a stranger touch her. Use her. The thought was far more stimulating than it should have been.

  It wasn’t as if she could deny him, not after he’d given her the most amazing orgasm she’d ever experienced. And sure, it didn’t hurt that the idea of bringing him the same pleasure he’d just given her gave her no small thrill.

  His breathing came in ragged pants as he rubbed against her harder, finally relinquishing his hold on the bar to grip her hips, holding her firmly in place. His movements were subtle, but if one of the passengers in the front turned, there was no way they wouldn’t realize what he was doing.

  The idea that all it would take was one wayward glance and someone would see them sent her pulse skyrocketing. Half of her wanted to run away in shame at even the thought of it; the rest of her was more turned on than she’d ever been before.

  She slid her hand up her side and she cupped her own breast, eyes locked on the people in the front of the bus so she could move her hand away quickly if anyone looked. Massaged it. Her pussy clenched with sudden need and she dropped her hand, suddenly worried someone might see.

  “I like it when you touch yourself,” he said, voice ragged. And he seemed to stroke her harder. She gripped the bar in front of her with both hands.

  The back of her skirt pushed up over her ass as he rubbed against her. The tender flesh of her butt would be sore from the rough material of his pants, but she didn’t care. She was wet—and not only from his prior ministrations. Her body ached again, and she wanted him to grab her breasts, suck on her nipples, touch her clit. Alleviate some of the pressure building inside of her again.

  But he was intent on his own pleasure. Thrusting hard, he grunted and stroked himself with her body. His grip on her hips tightened almost painfully and he shoved hard enough that her arms strained against the pole to keep them both upright. She could feel his dick spasming, pulsing, and a long shudder ran through him. Then he slowed, rubbing his now-sated cock against her softly, even as his breathing became more controlled. The material of his pants was damp and hot.

  For a long moment, he stood still, his hands gripping her hips, his forehead resting on her shoulder. Then, slowly, he pulled back, kissing her neck softly before he released her. His coat moved from around her—no doubt being buttoned tightly so that no one could see he’d come in public.

  But that was okay. She definitely wasn’t cold anymore. Heat ran through her body, filling her. Heat from the amazing experience she’d just had. Heat from the need already filling her again. Heat from the shame and embarrassment she felt when she scanned the bus to make sure no one had noticed what they were doing.

  What if someone had seen? She would die. Yet…her body was already eager to repeat the experience.

  Familiar sights flew by the bus window. Her favorite coffee shop. Her grocery store. The bus pulled to the side of the road and the brakes hissed, bringing the vehicle to a halt.

  Her stop.

  Mind divided between wanting to stay and wanting to go, she finally grabbed her bag and headed for the exit, not daring to look behind her. She wanted to turn, introduce herself. Meet the wonderful stranger who had just given her the most amazing sexual experience of her life. See if he wanted to repeat it sometime. See if he wanted to get coffee.

  But the rest of her wondered if that was what he wanted. Maybe, by turning around, she’d ruin his fantasy. Destroy his moment. This wasn’t only about her, after all.

  She couldn’t bring herself to wreck the moment for either of them, no matter how much she wanted to see where the experience might lead.

  Legs shaking from adrenaline and body still damp and aching from both need and satisfaction, she made her way down the bus steps. When she hit the sidewalk, she forced her posture straight and headed for her apartment.

  When the bus’s air brakes whooshed, disappointment rocked through her. She’d half thought—and more than half hoped—he’d follow.

  A silly dream. And one that she didn’t have time for with her new job, no matter how much she might want it. Ache for it. Not just the sex, but a contact in the city. Hell, maybe a friend.

  She shook her head, irritated at herself for allowing herself to be sad about something so wonderful. Two more steps toward her apartment, and a voice halted her in her tracks.

  “Wait!”

  The voice was louder than when he’d whispered in her ear on the bus, but unmistakable. Sexy and rich, just the sound of his voice felt like a caress.

  Stomach jumping into her throat, she turned to meet her stranger.

  “Hi,” he said. Warm eyes, filled with amusement and maybe a little sheepish, met hers.

  “Hi,” she echoed, barely able to find her voice. “I’m Emma.”

  He smiled and reached for her hand. She couldn’t help smiling back.

  Office Heat

  Alison Connolly has always followed the rules—a fact that has helped her excel at her job, but hasn't done much for her personal life. When a dirty-talking, sexy coworker makes a move while they're working late, the rules don't stand a chance.

  Will the erotic dalliance in the conference room ruin her chance of being with the man she really wants—her boss—or will it give her the courage to show him that his star employee is better after hours?

  Office Heat is a contemporary erotic romance novelette involving a heroine heating up the office with a coworker and the boss. It is not intended for younger readers due to mature content.

  Chapter 1

  I glared at the report, willing the numbers to change. They didn’t. It was going to be another long night. Another long month. So much for the date Marianne had set me up on. No way was I making it tonight. A quick text and I had postponed my date until some vague time in the future. It was the second time I’d cancelled on the man, which meant it was probably the last time I’d hear from him. Marianne was going to be irritated, but there wasn’t much I could do about work.


  I leaned back and stretched in the office chair. My muscles loosened, but soon clenched up at the sight of the clock hanging on the conference room wall. Dammit. Eight o’clock already.

  “Coffee?” The tech guy, Daniel, who’d been helping me build reports for our hardass of a new boss, peeked his head in the doorway.

  “That would be wonderful, thanks.”

  Daniel gave me his signature killer grin and disappeared.

  The sigh escaped before I could stop it, and I rubbed my face in my hands. I had to quit checking out the IT guy. One of these days, he was going to notice. And then where would I be? Embarrassed as hell.

  But Daniel didn’t make it easy. Not only did he stay late and help without complaint like the great guy he was, but he was also freakishly hot. Not in the more intensely physical way that Bruce, my new boss, was. But still, he was very nice to look at in a hot geek kind of a way. Not too muscly, but nor was he thin. And something about his glasses and quick mind did it for me. Maybe it was the way he seemed to examine me through them. Like he could see through me, to my hidden fantasies.

  God, my mind was making things up about my coworkers now. I so needed to get out on a date.

  At least he gave me safer fodder for daydreams than my boss did. I could admit it to myself—I had a crush. A major crush on a man who barely knew I existed as a human person rather than a machine who compiled reports for him. I’d heard around the office grapevine that Bruce had been through a bad divorce. Whether that was true or not, I wasn’t sure.

  But since work had gotten so busy the last few months, my imagination was the closest thing to a sex life I’d had in far too long. No wonder my daydreams had turned inappropriate at the office. Not that it mattered anyway, even if Bruce had noticed my interest. He was sexy, powerful, and had an intensity about him that drew women—I wasn’t the only woman in the office who’d made eyes at him, that was for sure.

  And me…well, I wasn’t terrible to look at. But I wasn’t a model by any stretch of the imagination. I had just a little too much meat on my hips and ass, and while I could pass for cute, I’d never be beautiful or stunning.

  “Here you go, Alison.” Daniel reappeared with a coffee in hand and I smiled gratefully. He didn’t usually get me coffee. I must really look exhausted for him to have offered when he wasn’t even going for a cup himself.

  “I think we’re about there for this report. Could you make a couple of adjustments for me before you go?” I hated to ask, but my new boss was even more of a workaholic than I was, and his standards were a little on the crazy side. He’d only been with the company for a few months though, so I had hopes that he would calm down after he got up to speed and felt more comfortable in his new position.

  “Sure.” Daniel took the sticky note from my hand and disappeared. I tried to push thoughts of him from my mind. His big hands, strong shoulders. He couldn’t be much younger than I was, maybe two or three years? That would put him at twenty five, twenty six? Not too young.

  I shook my head. What was I thinking? I really needed to get out of the office on time soon. Go out on a date. Get laid. How long had it been since I’d had sex?

  I moved to the other side of the conference room table and started going through the stack of papers there. Somewhere in this mess were the explanations that Bruce would require sometime before lunch the next day. While I was scrunched over a particularly frustrating report, I felt hands touch my shoulders. I jumped a tiny bit, but the hands held firm.

  “You look tense,” a low voice said.

  I relaxed at the familiar tone, but only slightly. “You scared me, Daniel.”

  “Did I? That’s because you’re so tense. Jumpy.”

  He was probably right, but his hands on my shoulders felt good, too good. He rubbed slowly but with perfect pressure. A soft moan escaped my lips.

  I knew I shouldn’t—it wasn’t proper—but I couldn’t help but lean into his massage. The pressure on my tense muscles felt so amazing. And it was wonderful to be touched.

  I closed my eyes, only wanting to enjoy it for a moment. That was okay, right? Not too inappropriate. He couldn’t know that it turned me on, that even now my panties were damp and my stomach clenched in need. This was innocent, no matter how my body reacted. I could think about the moment we were sharing later—it could lead somewhere far more interesting in my head when I was safely at home with my vibrator.

  Then his hands were gone. I blinked and pushed down the sudden feeling of loss. Half the lights in the conference room flickered off, leaving the room only dimly lit.

  “Can’t really work with the lights off, Daniel,” I said, keeping my tone light.

  “You work too much,” he replied.

  I shivered at the low tone in his voice. Did he sound husky, like our small touch had affected him, too? No. That wasn’t possible. He had plenty of women chasing him, and he’d slept with more than his fair share from the rumors I’d heard. Such a small touch wouldn’t affect a man like him. Especially not with someone like me, a mousy woman at least a couple of years older than him.

  “Well, these reports won’t finish themselves.” I kept my tone as light as I could, but couldn’t help the slight catch in my voice.

  “There will be time enough for those after.”

  “After what?” I turned to look at him, blinking in confusion as he pulled off his tie and tossed it on the conference table.

  “After we both relax a little.” The shadows in the room cast his face in an odd light, making his grin seem more dangerous, his eyes darker.

  “I don’t know what—”

  “Stand up, Alison.”

  I gaped at him, but found myself moving. Standing. Why was I letting him order me around? He wasn’t my boss. But the tone in his voice brooked no argument, and some part of me responded to it. A touch of fear swirled with nerves and desire, making me shaky and unsure of myself.

  “Very good.” He stepped toward me, and I watched him, not certain how to feel. When he reached out and slid a long finger down the side of my neck, I flinched.

  “This isn’t right.” The lightness in my tone was gone, leaving only breathiness behind.

  “Oh, it’s right.” He tipped my chin up so I would meet his gaze. His green eyes were narrowed and his normal easy grin was gone. He looked deadly serious, and as close as he stood, I could feel how big he was. Probably five-ten, which was tall compared to my five-three, even with three-inch pumps on.

  “Do you think I haven’t noticed the way you’ve looked at me, Alison?” he continued. “That needy hunger in your eyes. That desire you think you hide so well behind your professional facade.”

  “I…I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  His lips turned into a cruel grin, not an expression I’d ever seen on the easygoing man before.

  “Lie.” His hand moved down from my chin, sliding softly down the tender skin of my neck to the swell of my breasts, just barely exposed by my button-up blouse. “A man can only take so much of that before he has to act on it. And I’ve hit my limit.”

  “What—” I shook my head to clear it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but this stops here.”

  “I’m talking about fucking you, Alison. Right here, right now.” His hand slid farther, and before I could react he cupped my breast then rubbed it with his palm, his touch still light. I fought against the urge to lean into that touch, even as my sex clenched with need at his words. “Just sex—no strings.”

  I wanted this. Ached for this. But the panic rolling through me was stronger yet. This wasn’t right. What kind of woman would I be if I gave in to this? If I let him touch me, I wasn’t sure how I’d feel about myself. And if I let him fuck me on the middle of the conference table—the table that would be covered in donuts and coffee the next morning and surrounded by our coworkers—I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to face Daniel or any of them again.

  Worst of all, what if he didn’t like what he saw under my con
servative outfit?

  “I don’t—”

  “You do, and you will.” He leaned in and took my mouth with his, and his hand left my breast to pull me in close. It wasn’t a kiss, a soft and easy thing that two people were involved in. He took my mouth like it was his right, like he’d kissed me a hundred times before. Like my consent was a given. I should have pushed him away, but I couldn’t.

  My arms slid up to wrap around his neck, almost of their own volition. I tried to get a handle on my scattered thoughts, but they were elusive, and the commanding way he played my body sent them even further out of reach.

  His tongue dipped into my mouth, devouring me, giving no quarter. As suddenly as he kissed me, he pulled back. He traced my lips with his thumb, and I found myself unable to look away from his light green eyes.

  Laughing voices filled the air, somewhere in the building. Not far, but not exactly close to us either. It was as if the leash holding me to him broke, and my thoughts came back with sudden and painful clarity.

  What the hell was I doing?

  “I’m leaving.”

  He stepped back, and I was half thankful and half saddened that he moved away so easily. What would I have done if he hadn’t? Screamed for help maybe. Or let him fuck me on the conference table.

  Shit.

  Our eyes met and his widened. He laughed. “Did you expect me to hold you hostage?”

  “Of course not.”

  He reached out and slid a finger down my collar bone and over the top swell of my breast. His small touch sent trickles of electricity from him to me, and I bit back a noise that no doubt would have given away the effect he had on me.

  “My door is always open. If you want to finish what we started here.” And with those words hanging in the air, he turned and left, shutting the conference door behind him with a low thud.

  My heart raced like I’d just run a mile, and I gathered paperwork without one bit of attention on what I was doing. What the hell had just happened?