by Sabrina York
My balls slipped a notch. Two.
I think my jaw dropped as well.
Because this dumpy little hairless troll was not Jackson Carter. I knew it in a flash.
I tried to ignore the swirling in my gut as realization after realization flashed through me. I stared at the man in the doorway, my new boss. Stared at his dark sable curls and square, dented chin. Long lashes and lethal looks.
He leaned lazily against the doorjamb, crossed his arms over that broad chest and grinned at me. “Sam,” he said. “You’re right on time. Come on in.”
The executive assistant stepped between us. I wanted to savage her. “Mr. Carter?”
“Yes, Alicia?”
“Your messages,” she cooed as she handed him a sheaf of small pink papers. Cooed.
Blech.
He waved her away, never once taking his simmering gaze from me as I minced toward his office. “Tomorrow, Alicia.”
“But sir—”
“Tomorrow. And Alicia?”
She peered up at him expectantly. “Yes, sir?”
“You can go home for the day.” This, he said as he waved me into his luxurious executive suite and shut the door in Alicia’s lovely face.
And just in time.
I winced as the second largest ball popped out of my cunt, despite how hard I’d been trying to hold it in. I nearly crumpled over the back of the sofa.
I glared at him. “You bastard.”
His expression—so hopeful, so ridged with longing—drooped. “Are you really mad?”
“Of course I’m mad. I cannot begin to tell you how mad. I cannot begin to catalog the kinds of mad I am.” It was tough to be mad, frankly, with an orgasm beginning to bubble through me. But first things first. “You kept me waiting forever.”
He stilled and gaped at me; the tension in every line of his body broke. A little laugh escaped his lips. “Is that why you’re mad?”
“And that secretary.”
“Executive assistant.”
“Whatever. Drooling all over you. Revolting.”
“I’ll reassign her in the morning. A promotion.”
“And these damn balls.”
“Ah.” He smiled and stepped closer.
I was practically folded in half by now, trying desperately to hold the last fucker in. JR flicked up the hem of my skirt. He repositioned me until I was bent over the back of his sofa. He reached between my legs to find the balls pooling in my panties. Of course they nudged at my clit, which only annoyed me, elated me more. He cupped them and rolled them against me.
I shattered.
The last one burst out with an audible pop. I shoved my fist in my mouth to keep from wailing. The last thing I wanted was her bursting in right now to save her precious boss from a howler monkey.
He stepped behind me. I heard the rustle of his slacks and felt the heat of his belly against my ass. He yanked my panties off and kicked my legs farther apart, as far as they could go.
And he was in me.
Oh God. In me in one long, smooth stroke. Deep in me. He pulled out, slow, slithering like a snake. I whimpered.
He didn’t make me wait. He shoved his fat cock back in, fast and hard, and then began fucking me like a jackhammer. In and out. To the side. Up, down. Harder. Faster.
We came together like a fountain, showering each other with primal juice. Even after he came, he kept pumping into me again and again as I quailed around him.
Ah. Sweet relief.
When it was done, when the frenzy had cooled, he withdrew and smoothed my skirt back over my ass. Then he turned me around and studied me for a long, long while. “Are you still mad?”
I shrugged. “Mostly not.”
“I was worried you’d be mad when you found out who I was.”
Oh. Yeah. “I am mad about that.”
“A lot or a little?”
“You lied to me.”
“Not really. Come here.” He tugged me with him, around the couch so we could sit on it properly. Meaning, me sitting sideways on his lap, not quite naked.
“Is your name even JR?”
I rode his shrug. “Technically.”
“Technically?”
“Jackson Robert.”
“Carter.”
“Yeah. Jackson Robert Carter.”
I dropped my head onto his chest. “So what am I supposed to call you?” My feelings were all jumbled. I was still too close to that orgasm for any usable logic to percolate into my brain. I sat there in a huddled bundle and let it wash over me. Let him hold me as I quaked.
“Call me anything you want, Sam.”
“You’re my boss.” I dragged a hand through my hair. “That complicates things.”
“Doesn’t have to.”
“But it does.”
“Look, Sam, I bought this company for one reason and one reason only. To have an excuse to see you. If you’re in my arms, I couldn’t care less about—what’s the name of your company again?”
I socked him on the shoulder and laughed. “Don’t sell it. Keep it. But don’t fire anyone. They’re all worried about downsizing.”
“They should be. There’s a bunch of idiots running things over there.”
“Be serious.”
“Oh, I am.”
“About us. I meant be serious about us.”
“Oh.” He tipped my chin until we were nose to nose, eye to eye. “I am.”
“JR—”
He silenced me with a kiss. And then he did it again. Although silencing me, about then… Not too difficult. “Tell me you’re okay with who I am.”
Hope and desperation laced his expression; a niggle of contrition scratched at my conscience. But I had to keep him at bay, I couldn’t tell him the frightening truth about my feelings for him until I was sure. Until I was safe.
“Please. Tell me you’re okay with who I am. Because that’s the last, the very last, of my secrets. Well.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “Except for one more.”
“You have one more secret?” I lifted a brow.
He nodded.
“Will you tell me what it is?”
He nodded again but his gaze didn’t meet mine. He toyed with the twill on my skirt. “If this is going to continue, you need to know all my secrets, just like I need to know yours.”
Cupping his cheek with my palm, I urged him to meet my eyes. “Tell me.” He sucked in a breath, tried to turn away. I wouldn’t let him. “Tell me.” My voice was a low thrum. I knew what he was going to say. At least I hoped I did. Because I needed to hear it. With a desperation that matched his.
“Sam, I’m crazy about you.”
Ah.
Something deep within me released. He needed me as I needed him. Craved me as I craved him.
I was not a toy to him. Or a conquest. I was not a slave or a sub.
I was part of this.
Part of us.
A partner in the adventure.
I cupped his other cheek and held his face there before me, glorying in his beauty, his vulnerability and the stark, simple truth he laid open before me. “Jackson Robert Carter.”
“Yes?” A shudder.
“I’m crazy about you too.”
* * * * *
Much later, so much later that the sun had dipped beneath the horizon and the street lamps had woken up for the night, and the corporate office building was an empty, echoing tomb, we emerged. Another delicious, divine and daunting tryst behind us.
“Are you ready to go home?” he asked, and somehow the question was so much more than words.
Home.
Home meant us. Together.
“Yes.”
We stepped into the elevator and he fingered the button for the lobby with his thumb. He shot me a smoldering look, a stealthy smile. And I was reminded of another elevator. Another ride.
One that had begun this adventure. Brought us to this wonderful place.
“Going down?” he suggested with a wink.
And s
o I did.
About the Author
Her Royal Hotness, Sabrina York, writes naked erotic fiction for fans who like it hot, hard and balls-to-the-wall, and erotic romance and fantasy for readers who prefer a slow burn to passion. An award-winning author in multiple genres, Sabrina loves writing hot, humorous stories in all kinds of settings.
Sabrina York welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email addresses on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
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Also by Sabrina York
Adam’s Obsession
Rising Green
Tristan’s Temptation
Ellora’s Cave Publishing
www.ellorascave.com
Pushing Her Buttons
ISBN 9781419939105
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Pushing Her Buttons Copyright © 2012 Sabrina York
Edited by Carrie Jackson
Cover design by Fiona Jayde
Photos: Ron Dale/Shutterstock.com and HotDamnStock.com
Electronic book publication August 2012
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