The addiction that had once ruined everything in his life was dragging him back under again. If he didn’t get a handle on it soon, he was going to fucking drown. He looked down at his shaking hands and was reminded of the very catalyst of his downward spiral—Reagan.
It was because of her that he’d started out on this never-ending quest to get his rocks off, and he knew deep in the pit of his stomach it was because of her that he fucking couldn’t. Exasperated, he moved over to where his briefcase was sitting on the desk. He needed to get this the fuck over with and go home.
A knock sounded on his door while he was gathering up his stuff, but he ignored it, not wanting to deal with anyone at the moment. He needed to wait until everyone else was fucking gone before leaving. No need for others to witness him in the rock-bottom state he was wallowing in.
The knock sounded again, but this time, a head peeked around the door. A blond head. A very attractive but unwanted blond head.
As Reagan took in his state of undress, her expression turned troubled. She stepped into the office and shut the door behind her. No words were exchanged as she looked at him, her eyes conveying understanding. Understanding and...fucking compassion. The look made him sick, and he turned away in disgust at himself.
“Please leave.” His voice was quiet as he closed his eyes, his knuckles in fists on the wooden desk.
He wasn’t a praying man, but he would have said one now if she would just go away. The rope that held his body together was threadbare, and if it snapped, he wasn’t sure what he was capable of. And he just couldn’t let her see that. Not her.
“Ev—”
“I said,” he cut her off without looking back, “please leave. There’s an envelope on the chair for you. Just take it and go.”
The silence that engulfed the room was thick as they both stood frozen where they were. He was waiting to hear her footsteps taking her out the door and away from him. Away from the hell that was brimming just under the surface. But he couldn’t hear anything. Not one fucking thing.
He shut his eyes and squeezed them tight as he balled his fists until they hurt.
“Evan…” Her voice was soft, coaxing this time, as if she were treading carefully around a wild animal in the room, and really, with the way he was feeling, she was fucking smart to be wary. “Evan, look at me. Please?”
And isn’t that just the fucking problem? I don’t want to stop looking at her.
He shook his head, and as he did, footsteps came closer.
“Stop,” he called out, and her steps halted.
“I’m not leaving,” she said, her voice defiant.
He imagined that, if he turned around right then, he’d see her arms crossed and her head haughtily tilted up. That visual, the one of her confident and bossy as hell, almost had him swiveling in her direction. She wouldn’t remain so arrogant for long if she got her way; he’d have her pinned to the wall with his hand up her skirt in five seconds flat.
“Then you’re inviting trouble. I told you to get out.”
“And I told you I’m not going anywhere.” Her voice had climbed in volume as she stubbornly refused to leave. “Now turn around and tell me what the hell is wrong with you. You’ve been a mess all day.”
He laughed then, the hysteria inside bubbling up and forcing its way out in a humorless sound. God, she was testing his patience, and fuck, it was just about out.
Slowly, he pivoted on his heels, and when he was finally facing her, he brought his eyes up to lock with determined, brown ones.
“Okay, Reagan.” His voice was low, and as he drew out her name, he saw the way she shifted where she stood. Not so confident now that she was face to face with a man who was clearly holding on by a thread. “Now what?”
Her eyes were watching him carefully, gauging his every move, and when she took in a breath of air and pushed her hair back behind her ear, he noticed the way her breasts tested the shirt’s constraints.
She took a step toward him, and Evan couldn’t help but think she was either brave or incredibly foolish as she asked, “Now tell me what’s going on. Your bloodshot eyes aren’t fooling anyone. Did something happen?”
He gripped the sides of the desk by his thighs and focused on her beautiful face before him, feeling his lip curl in a derisive smile. “You. You fucking happened.”
She flinched at the menacing tone of his words. “Me?” When Evan didn’t respond, she got defensive. “And what exactly do you mean by that?”
His eyes wandered down her body inch by inch, taking in all of her. He didn’t think he’d ever seen a sexier woman in his life. It was then that he realized his dormant cock had taken interest.
Of course it fucking has.
Reagan looked immaculate. Her blond hair, styled in soft waves, rested softly against the silk of her shirt. It was a cream color with black buttons that ran down the center between two of the most spectacular breasts he could recall having ever seen.
The curves of her body were highlighted in a tasteful way beneath her black pencil skirt. But the way the shirt was tucked in, showcasing her tiny waist and the flare of her hips, made him want to grab ahold of her and hike it up so he could see what kind of lace was beneath it.
And she was the kind to wear lace. He knew because he remembered in stark detail watching her peel her magnificent body out of it once before, and fucking hell, that was what was going to get him the release he’d been chasing now.
“Hey.” She snapped her fingers to get his attention again. “What the hell is the matter with you? I’m not gonna ask again.”
“Oh...I see. We’re playing by Reagan’s rules, are we?” He pushed himself off the desk and began to slowly circle her. “And when you get your answer, what will you do? I doubt it’s something you want to hear…” he trailed off, stopping behind her.
The back of her was just as appealing as the front, and he had to force himself not to push her forward and on top of his desk. As his eyes ran over her ample bottom, he palmed his growing erection and took a step closer. She shivered when his breath grazed her neck but didn’t move away.
That surprised him. “Not running tonight?” he wondered aloud. “Does this mean I can touch you?” He ran his fingers down the length of her spine, and this time, she jerked away and turned to face him.
Her eyes flashed as she hissed, “No, you can’t fucking touch me.”
“I see,” he acknowledged as she shifted farther away from him, undoubtedly trying to create more distance between the two of them. “Then you should have left when I told you to instead of poking at me for fucking answers.”
She looked him over as if trying to decide the best course of action. Then she crossed her arms over her chest and stated plainly, “I’m still waiting for an answer, Evan. Stop trying to intimidate me and answer the question.”
He took a step toward her and let his gaze drop to the breasts heaving behind the satin of her shirt. They were straining the buttons he wanted to pop open with his fingers—or teeth—and when he was finally close enough that he could see the lace of her bra between the buttons, he moved his eyes back up to hers and pinned her where she stood.
“You’re the fucking problem, because for the last two weeks, I’ve had a fucking erection I can’t seem to get rid of. Day after day, I’ve watched you walk around, making my cock fucking ache to sink inside you again, and you know what? I’ve been on my best behavior. I’ve looked, yeah. I won’t lie. But did I touch? No...I went home and tried to forget. Tried to somehow relieve this craving you’ve built deep inside me, but I think I’ve finally worked it out...” His eyes trailed down her neck, watching her pulse beat rapidly as she lowered her arms to the desk to steady herself. “It’s you. I want you.”
Reagan looked taken aback by his admission. “But...that’s not true. I know what you are, Evan. I know it’s not about me.”
He raised his brows. “It’s not? What’s it about then? Please enlighten me.”
“It’s why you don
’t do repeats. You’re an addict. I was just a quick fix for you.” She stopped and thought that over. “Well, maybe not so quick.”
“Definitely not a quick fix.”
“We both agreed it was a one-time thing. What’s changed?”
Evan blew out a heavy breath as he paced the room and gripped the back of his neck. “I don’t know. I don’t fucking know.”
She eyed him cautiously. “But you somehow think I’m the answer? You didn’t seem to have any problems at Nova the other night.”
“Jesus Christ. Because I thought about you!” he exploded, stopping in his tracks. “You came into my life, and you’ve fucked it to shit. I can’t get a good goddamn release without you. Do you see what it’s doing to me? You keep asking what’s wrong. Now do you see it?”
He knew he was losing it, knew he was going too far, but he couldn’t stop now. The throb of his cock was insistent, and he caught her eyes on his erection before she quickly tore them away. Reaching down, he rubbed his open hand over his pants and felt himself growing harder.
It was then that the main office lights shut off for the weekend, the room going dark except for the dim lamp on his desk and the sliver of city lights peeking through the blinds. The room was charged with sexual tension, and from the way she clung to his desk, he had a feeling that it wasn’t emanating only from him.
“Reagan…” His voice was like gravel as he tried to slow himself down. “Tell me you want this. Tell me you’ll let me have you.”
She took a shuddering breath as he unbuttoned his pants, his hand disappearing inside to continue stroking. “I can’t.” Her voice was barely a whisper, but her eyes were no longer fighting the urge to watch his movements.
“Yes, you can,” he coaxed, taking a step toward her. With every rub of his cock, he was growing harder for her, more desperate. “Just this once.” He moved again so that only mere inches separated them. “Let me fuck you, Reagan. Right here on my desk. Let me…”
Reagan looked him dead in the eye. “And if I do...what happens then? What about next week when some hot waitress can’t get you off? Will you come running to me?”
He dropped his head forward, stared down at the hand he was using to massage himself, and shook his head. “I don’t know. I don’t know...” He gritted his teeth, then dragged his blurry gaze back to hers, and pleaded, “Please, Reagan. You don’t understand how much I need this.”
She raised her hand and placed it on his chest, and if he hadn’t actually witnessed the action, he wouldn’t have believed she was finally touching him. Then understanding dawned across her face and she seemed to be thinking over her words carefully before she spoke.
“Here’s what’s going to happen, and since I’m the boss for now, you’re going to listen to me.” As she gently pushed him away from her, Evan’s heart thumped hard inside his chest. Then she said softly, “You’re going to stay here where I can see you. You think it’s me, the thought of me, that gets you off? Then you shouldn’t need to touch me to achieve that...should you?”
He stepped away as she moved to the side and walked around to where his office chair was pushed in under the desk. After rolling it out, she sat, crossing her legs and placing an elbow on the arm as she ran her eyes down over him.
When they landed on the hand pressing over his parted pants, she licked her full lips and told him, “Now what is it you want, Evan?”
As he looked at her sitting in his chair and issuing orders like a fucking queen, he wondered if she thought he would change his mind and leave. If that were the case, she was about to be in for one hell of a fucking surprise.
“I want you to unbutton your shirt.”
She didn’t hesitate, her fingers nimbly unfastening the buttons down to her waist.
“Untuck it. And then leave it on my desk.”
Reagan kept her eyes on him as she obeyed his wishes and pulled the material from her skirt, unfastening the remaining buttons before sliding it off her shoulders and baring the cream lace bra underneath.
Christ almighty.
The sight of her sitting there with her breasts spilling over the edges had him groaning, but before he could reach back inside to ease himself, she called his name.
“Wait,” she said, standing up and walking back around. “I can’t see from over there after all.”
She sat in one of the visitor chairs in front of his desk, and when he turned to face her, she grabbed his hand. Her tongue ran over the length of his palm before she took two of his fingers into her mouth and sucked.
His entire fucking body trembled at the warm, wet heat of her, and when she was finished, she grabbed the edges of his pants and pulled them, along with his boxer briefs, all the way down. He kicked them off and took hold of his cock, pumping it through the slick glide of his fist.
Reagan’s hand reached up to slip the strap of her bra down, and he nodded and grunted out, “Off.”
She complied, unsnapping the back and letting the bra fall to the floor. Her nipples were hard, and fuck if that didn’t make him thrust into his hand more forcefully.
Her eyes were watching him closely, not showing any discomfort over the fact that she was sitting topless in his office as he masturbated. That was when, bold as ever, she tilted her head and licked her lower lip. Evan knew right then that he wouldn’t do anything to fuck this up.
“What next, Evan?”
The way her lips parted around his name had him reaching for her until she shook her head.
“No, no. No touching me. What next?”
“Fuck,” he growled out as he clenched his jaw and brought his hand back to pump his cock harder. He let his eyes fall down to her breasts and the smooth skin of her stomach and managed, “Unzip your skirt.”
“No,” she told him and gave a sinful grin. “I’m not taking my skirt off. Next?”
His nostrils flared in frustration as he looked down at her sexy face and said, “Pull it up.”
“My skirt?”
“Yes, your fucking skirt,” he groaned.
She reached down to either side of her thighs but kept her eyes on his as she started to draw it up her legs.
“More,” he said when she stopped just below her hips.
Reagan raised it higher until her matching cream panties came into view. He wanted to pass the fuck out when he realized she had soaked through them.
“Goddammit, Reagan,” he ground out, and she raised her brow.
“See something you like?” she asked and threw one of her legs over the arm of the chair.
Fuck yes, I do.
“You know I fucking like it,” he confirmed as she arched her hips in his direction, and he fisted his length harder. “I fucking crave it. Jesus, Reagan. You’re soaked. Tell me you aren’t dying for me to fuck you right now. Right here on the floor.”
She clutched the sides of the chair she was sitting in, and he watched her thigh muscles tense as her back curved like she was trying to push against something, seeking the pressure he knew his cock could give her.
He stepped closer to her, like a man dying of thirst who’d finally spotted an oasis in the desert, and when he was close enough that the scent of her arousal hit his nose, he bared his teeth and demanded of her, “Why are you denying yourself?”
When she looked up at him, the hunger in her eyes was evident, but so was the control he knew he was lacking. Instead of answering, she fingered her nipples, successfully drawing his attention back to the task at hand. She cupped herself, pushing her rounded flesh up and squeezing in time to every stroke he made.
Fuck. Almost... I just need...something more.
He was panting, so close to the rush he knew was coming. “I want—” he started.
“Tell me.”
Evan leaned over her and grabbed the back of her chair, only inches between them. With his mouth hovering by her ear, he told her, “I want to come all over your perfect fucking tits.”
She gave him a smile so fucking naughty that it had his i
nsides twisting as she whispered, “Do it.”
God, I want to kiss that fucking smile off her mouth, he thought, but that was not part of the deal.
Instead, he held on to the back of the chair and moved between her splayed thighs. She still had one hanging over the arm of the chair, so she was nice and wide for him, and as he started to pump his cock, he looked down to see her watching with rapt attention and a slightly parted mouth.
Fuck, he was so ready. The smell of her, the debauched look of her, and the fact she was letting him even do this were all coming together to build inside him a climax he couldn’t wait to paint her skin with.
Then her eyes flicked up to his from beneath her long lashes, and when she repeated, “Do it,” he lost his fucking mind.
His gaze never wavered from hers as the pent-up hours of agony unleashed in spectacular fashion across her chest. He’d never felt a release on this level before. It felt as though he were unloading a heavy burden from his shoulders, and as his climax waned, the tightness in his chest eased.
She never took her eyes off him, and he wondered what she saw. A desperate man, most likely. One so deeply entrenched in the depth of his addiction that the only relief he’d been able to find lay with the woman beneath him, covered in his come—she’d become his dirtiest fantasy.
He jerked back from her, his hands shaking as the enormity of what had just happened sunk in. He’d just come all over his boss’s tits.
Fucking hell. What have I done?
She slid her leg down from the arm of the chair, and Evan watched in stunned silence as she turned, grabbed a couple of tissues from the box on his desk, and cleaned herself up.
I need to say something...but shit. What do you say after that?
She didn’t even give him a passing glance as she stood and walked around to where she’d dropped her bra, tossing the tissues in the trash. As she replaced her clothing in silence, he kicked his ass into gear and did likewise.
Before he could offer up one word of apology, she came around the desk, looked him over, and smoothed her hands down her skirt.
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