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Forbidden Desires

Page 51

by Jenna Hartley


  “I’m sure you’ll figure something out. Did you fuck him when you went into the back room?”

  I kept my face still, though the traitorous flush flared up my neck. She didn’t know for sure, which was a good thing. “No. I let him yell at me, and I yelled at him.” And then he went down on me like a rock star and laid his naked body all over me, but whatever.

  She watched me as she dragged in a breath and let it out in speculation. “Well, I’m sorry to blindside you, but at present, I don’t trust your ability to make decisions when it comes to Joel.”

  The flush was now accompanied by the tingling of fear and anger. “Are you serious?”

  “If you can’t do your job, then I have to do your job. We can’t fail, Annika. This has to be an instant hit, and I need you on point to get it there. I want you to succeed. I want all of this to be yours some day. I want to give you the opportunities that I had to work and hustle and climb for. But you have to be on board utterly and completely. Otherwise, you’ll be washing some slob’s dishes in Hoboken for the rest of your life. Got it?”

  My jaw clenched, though I knew it wasn’t a threat — it was a truth. “Got it.”

  She smiled at me sadly and stood. “I get it. I do. But you’ve got to play this smart. Don’t throw it away. Okay?”

  I tried to smile back as my fears climbed up my throat. “Okay.”

  Joel

  The shop bustled with action as the crew set up for the day, and I leaned my chair back, boot propping me up, as I doodled absently on a legal pad, trying not to watch the door for Annika.

  I had no chill, not when it came to her. Not as the seconds ticked down to when we could be alone to talk.

  The bell dinged, and my eyes shot to the door, but it was just Shep and Ramona. They waved as they headed back to makeup, and I jerked a chin in lieu of a greeting, my nerves jacked to the point of no return.

  I was just contemplating a shot of Makers when she walked in. Her face gave nothing away — the cold, blue eyes and stern line of her lush, red lips — as she greeted the people she passed, actively avoiding making eye contact with me. She jumped straight in, talking with the main camera man — I didn’t have all the lingo down for their jobs yet — then I watched as she walked back to makeup.

  I relaxed my knee until the legs of my chair were all on the ground, stashed the notepad and stood, not ready to take no for an answer. But I stopped myself from following her, practicing restraint, walking instead into my booth and to my desk. What did I expect? Did I want her to run through the doors and bound into my arms? Swing by and give me a kiss? Lean on the counter and bat her lashes at me?

  It was what I wanted, but I knew better. Generally, I was smarter than this, but I found myself twisted up by the drive to talk to her, touch her, kiss her again. The drive to know that it wasn’t the only time I’d get to have her for my own. Because there were so many things I wanted to do to her still. So many things, and I couldn’t stand the thought of not being able to.

  So, I resolved myself to being patient, and for the first half of the day, it wasn’t too hard. But with every avoided glance, with every time she dipped out of the room or the conversation when I entered, my patience thinned, and by the end of the day, I was ready to blow.

  I was on my way to find her after she’d disappeared into the back, and when I entered the hallway, she tried to step past me, but I wouldn’t let her pass.

  “Excuse me,” she said, her eyes over my shoulder.

  “I wanted to talk to you about the Samoan tattoo segment for next week.” It was the best excuse I could come up with after thinking about it quite literally all day.

  She gave me a tight smile, though she still wouldn’t meet my eyes. “Let’s talk about it later,” she said, trying to move around me again.

  I put my hand on the wall next to her head and leaned in just enough. “This can’t really wait.”

  I saw her swallow, the humorless smile still on her face, but her eyes were wild. “Okay, then.”

  “This way.” It was a gruff command, and I grabbed her arm gently, guiding her toward my office, closing the door behind me.

  She stood against the far wall with an office chair between us, and I smirked, envisioning her just like this the night before.

  “You keep doing that.”

  “What?”

  “Trying to put something between us. Why is that?”

  “It’s safer that way.”

  I stepped around the chair. “For you or for me?”

  Her eyes finally met mine, piercing my heart, stopping me in my tracks. “For both of us.”

  “Tell me what’s going on.”

  She stood up a little straighter, squaring her shoulders in preparation, like she’d been planning the speech all day. “Last night was … well, it happened, but it can’t happen again.”

  I laughed — I couldn’t help it. “And why not?” I stepped closer, closer enough to smell the flowers again, nearly driven mad with curiosity as to what they were. “Because you told me last night that you wanted me. That you wanted this.” I slipped a hand into the curve of her neck, running by thumb against her jaw. “Tell me I’m wrong,” I said as I leaned in, my lips on a track for hers. But just as they were about to connect, she sucked in a breath and laid a hand on my chest, dipping her chin to stonewall me.

  “Joel …”

  I tilted her face so she’d meet my eyes again. “What’s stopping you?”

  Her lips parted to speak, but she said nothing at first, her eyes searching mine. “This is my job. I can’t get … involved with you or it could impede my judgement, and I’ve worked too hard to throw that away just because I’m hot for you.”

  My smirk was back. “You’re hot for me?”

  She gave a smile in return. “Just as hot for you as you are for me.”

  My tongue wet my bottom lip, and her eyes darted to my mouth, lingering there for a moment. And I knew she wanted me. To what degree, I had yet to determine. So, I lied for the sake of getting what I wanted.

  “This doesn’t have to be complicated, Annika. It can be simple.” My thumb found the hollow behind her ear. “It can be easy,” I said as I leaned in, my hot breath rebounding off her lips. “You’re here. I’m here. And when this is over, you’ll leave, and I’ll be right here. It’ll be like nothing ever happened.” I closed my mouth over the swell of her bottom lip gently, sweeping my tongue across it.

  Her lids fluttered as she sighed, and I felt a hundred feet tall and bulletproof.

  “What do you say? Give me a shot. I won’t disappoint you.”

  A flicker of fear lit in her eyes. “I know. But how do you know I won’t disappoint you?”

  “I don’t. But that’s part of the fun, isn’t it?”

  She tried to look away again, but I held her face.

  “Tell me you don’t want me, and I’ll walk away.”

  Her eyes bounced between mine again, and she swallowed as I waited, the moment stretching on and on and on until finally, she spoke, her voice smoke and fire. “I could say it, but it would be a lie.”

  Sweet relief and a smile on my lips were my body’s answers. “Then it’s settled. We’ll keep it on the low. You do what you have to for your job.”

  “Even if it means hurting you?” she asked quietly.

  My heart lurched, but I smiled. “Don’t worry, princess. I don’t break easy.” And then I pressed my lips to hers, feeling her relief and my own at the contact. She melted into me as I pressed her into the wall with my body, and I wondered way in the back of my mind just what I’d gotten myself into.

  Chapter 12

  LADY BOSS

  * * *

  Annika

  * * *

  BREATHLESS.

  WHEN HE STEPPED BACK, he actually took my breath with him.

  I had no idea what exactly had taken over my body, but I was drunk off it. My hands were still on his chest.

  “Okay,” I muttered.

  “Okay.”
He smiled, and I resisted the urge to slip my fingers into his beard and pull him in for another kiss. “Tonight. Come to my place when you’re finished working. I’ll leave the door unlocked.”

  “Deal.”

  “Oh, and before you go, I need something from you.”

  My brow rose. “Oh?”

  “Your panties.”

  A laugh burst out of me. “That’s so cliché, Joel.”

  He shrugged and extended a hand, palm up. “Don’t care. Hand them over.”

  I folded my arms, only partly in protest. “Why should I?”

  “Let’s just say you’ll thank me later.”

  “And who’s to say I’m wearing any panties?”

  His smile rose on one side. “Should I make sure myself?”

  I shook my head and rolled my eyes, almost annoyed at how amused and fluttery I was. But he wanted to play, so I’d just have to play harder.

  I turned so my back was to him and hiked up my skirt, looking over my shoulder with my bottom lip between my teeth and big eyes. But his eyes, dark and hot, were on my hands as they exposed my ass and the black thong I was grateful to have put on that morning rather than granny panties. His jaw was set, chest rising and falling as he took shallow breaths, which turned me on more than I could verbalize. But instead of talking, I hooked my thumbs into the band and bent over at the waist, dragging my panties down my legs, stepping out of them slowly to make sure he got his fill of the view.

  I almost jumped when I felt his hands on my hips, but I stood straight and leaned back into him, feeling him hard against me. His lips were at my ear.

  “I’m gonna fuck you up so bad, Ms. Belousov.”

  My breath caught. “Good,” I whispered back before pulling away. I righted my skirt, panties still in hand, and turned, trying to slow my chugging heart, smiling at him like I knew all his secrets. I stepped into him, stuffing the satin thong into his pocket as I leaned into his ear. “See you tonight, Joel.”

  And then I walked out of the office like the lady-boss I was.

  * * *

  By the end of the day, I realized something very important.

  Joel’s knowledge that I wasn’t wearing panties made me hotter than the fire of a thousand suns.

  No lie, by the time the sun went down, I was aching for him. The way he looked at me — like he was actually going to nail me into oblivion — had my thighs tight as rubber bands all day. Watching him work, his hands as they held that tattoo gun, the fluttering of his forearms as he drew and shaded … they all spoke to me of latent power. Even when he walked, he seemed to have his own gravity, catching everyone’s attention like they didn’t have a choice in the matter. He was a force of nature, a force that had sucked me in like a black hole.

  Somehow I’d let him convince me. Like I could say no to him with his lips so close to mine and his hips pressed against me. I most definitely wouldn’t say no tonight, not after the long tease we’d been playing at all day. No, tonight he could do whatever he wanted to me. I needed him to.

  There came a time where he was finished with work and out of excuses to hang around, but he caught my eye as he walked past me for the door and slipped a hand in his pocket, the one where my panties were.

  I smiled despite the knowledge that I was supposed to be secretive. As wound up as I was, we were all lucky I didn’t bolt after him and take him on the sidewalk. But not long after, I was finished with my work and antsy to get to him. So I followed the crew upstairs and gave them instructions. Laney was gone, as usual — my job was to stay and oversee everything. Hers was to work typical hours and leave me in charge, and every night I was thankful for the office to myself. Particularly that night.

  I told everyone goodnight and headed down the stairs, pausing in front of his door as I listened and watched for any lingering crew members. When I was sure no one was around, I slipped into his apartment, closing the door softly behind me.

  He bolted out of his chair at the kitchen table, and I was disarmed by the raw surprise and uncertainty I found in his face, though it was quickly gone, replaced by smoldering fire. We moved for each other, crashing together in the middle of the room, his lips, my lips, our bodies tangled up as we reveled in the contact we’d been waiting for all day.

  His hands were at the hem of my skirt, tugging it up and over my hips, and he broke the kiss to bury his face in my neck as he wrapped an arm around my back, slipping his free hand up my thigh and between my ass, his finger grazing the slick line at my core.

  My arms wound around his neck, and I stretched up on my tip-toes, willing him to touch me more, touch me deeper, the burning at the tips of his fingers almost unbearable.

  “Joel,” I begged, my voice rough, my fingers twisted in his hair, clutching him to me.

  His big hand squeezed, cupping me from behind, the tips of two fingers barely slipping into me, and I whimpered. With a growl, he lifted me up by the ass, and my legs wound around his waist as he spun us around to move us God knew where. I didn’t care. I just needed him inside of me.

  Now.

  I’d said the last word aloud without realizing it, and he rumbled against me as gravity shifted. He laid me on his bed and kissed me so hard, it left my heart aching, my ribs burning. One of his hands disappeared, and I heard the clinking of his belt, the sound of his zipper, and I briefly had the irrational, frantic thought that I didn’t have patience for a condom — I was on birth control, which almost seemed like enough in the moment. But he disappeared, and I cracked my eyelids to find him rummaging in his nightstand, then the rip of the foil packet, the sound of the rubber unrolling, which got my lids open completely. I wanted to watch him, wanted to see him touch himself, but he was already descending on me, his hand on the base of his cock, and in a breath, before I even realized what he was doing, he filled me completely, to the hilt.

  I struggled for a breath, my back arched as he pulled out and slammed into me. He was everywhere, kissing me, touching me, in me, around me, moving so hard, so fast that I couldn’t hold on. My body pulsed, his name on my lips as he flexed his hips, hitting the end of me with a moan, and my heart stopped as I came, gripping him with all of me, pulling him deeper with every heartbeat.

  He came right behind me, throbbing and hot, grunting in a way that hit me deep in my stomach as he pumped his hips.

  We were both panting as he collapsed on top of me, and I wound my arms around his neck and cupped the back of his head, my fingers in his silky hair, his breath against my skin hot and huffing. I could feel his heart hammering through his shirt, through my shirt, through my ribs and into my own, which matched his pace, beat for beat.

  “Mmm,” he hummed and kissed my collarbone.

  “Mmm,” I echoed and shifted my fingers in his hair.

  “I told you you’d thank me later.”

  I chuckled. “I didn’t thank you.”

  I could feel him smiling against my skin. “Yeah, you did.” He rolled over, pulling me with him by way of a strong hand on my hip. “Come on. You hungry?”

  I found myself frowning. Okay, maybe I was pouting a little. “Wait, was that it?”

  He laughed at that, the flash of his white teeth and boom of the sound making me smile, despite my disappointment. When he’d finished, he popped me on the bare ass, and I yelped.

  “Princess, that was just the warm up.”

  Joel

  I climbed off the bed, the smile on my face threatening permanence as I kicked off my boots and dropped my pants, then pulled off my shirt. I glanced over my shoulder and caught her looking, watching me with admiration, her eyes scanning my body, and I winked before walking out of that room stark naked and a few inches taller than usual. The lights in the bathroom were off, and I left them that way, cleaning up quickly and anxious to get back to her. As if I would go back to my room and she’d already be gone.

  But she was there, her silk shirt untucked and skirt back in place, sadly. Her heels stood next to the bed, and I realized she’d re-twisted
her bun, setting herself to rights.

  Too bad I wasn’t going to leave it twisted for long. No, I wanted it down, brushing her shoulders, fanned out around her. Free.

  Her cheeks flushed, and she smiled knowingly — I hadn’t realized I’d paused in the doorway as I looked her over. So I snapped into action, moving for my dresser.

  “I’m glad you decided to come over,” I said as I rummaged through my drawer for a pair of jersey pants.

  “Me too,” she answered, though she didn’t offer anything else.

  I couldn’t help but wonder what she was thinking about as I tugged on my pants, but I was too afraid to ask. So I turned to her and smiled, reaching for her hand.

  “Come on. Let’s get you something to eat.”

  She smiled and slipped her soft, long fingers into my hand. “You cook?” she asked as she stood.

  “I wouldn’t call eggs ‘cooking.’”

  She laughed and followed me into the kitchen, her hand still in mine until she sat at the kitchen table, crossing her long legs underneath. I moved around the kitchen, gathering supplies and utensils. I’d never been comfortable with silence — I was much more at home talking, telling stories or jokes — but there I was, with the girl to end all girls, and I had nothing to say. The silence was deafening, and I scrambled, deciding to hit the classics.

  “So, I’ve been wondering, have you ever lived in Russia? Like, are you from there?” I already felt a little better, and cracked an egg on the side of the pan, satisfied with the sound it made.

  “No, my parents are.”

  I nodded and cracked another egg. “How long have they lived here?”

  “Since ’89. They settled in Brighton Beach.” She let out a sigh when I didn’t ask another question, continuing on. “They were … extracted by my uncle, who’s been here since the 70s. They couldn’t get out on their own. The whole Russian Jew thing.”

 

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