One More Night_A Bad Boy Romance

by Ruby Duke

  “What do I do, then?”

  Sara sighs. “It comes down to one simple question: do you want to jump his goddamn bones again?”

  “Yes.” Undoubtedly.

  “Then stop messing around with the guy and show him you’re in charge. Let your freak flag fly and have some fun, babe.”

  “You make it sound so easy,” I gripe.

  “Because it is.”

  The power-save function on the lights has left the cubicle area in the dark as I return to the office. I make my way carefully through the unlit room toward the glow of the boardroom light.

  Ted leans over the table resting his weight on both palms as I pass. Jordan reclines in his seat with arms spread on the backs of the ones either side. I swallow back the desire that blooms at the sight of him stretching the shirt he wears to capacity, the feel of his arms and shoulders beneath my hands a pleasant memory.

  My conversation with Sarah rolls through my mind as I prepare the food on a couple of platters. Fun with the guy sounds like heaven, especially after the way he effortlessly took control of my body on the weekend. But how can I be sure I can pull this off without falling for him?

  I have a history of wearing my heart on my sleeve, and each hit to my vulnerable ego when the relationship turns south leaves me a little more fragile than before.

  Getting tied up with a sexy stranger is danger enough, but when that sexy one-night hook-up is the same guy I’ve fantasized about for years … huge red lights flash in warning.

  I pull a deep cleansing breath and lift both platters to take the men their food. Ted spots me first as I enter, Jordan’s focus now on the laptop open before him.

  “Thanks, Corrine.” Ted straightens, stretching out his back.

  The tapping on Jordan’s keyboard stops. I daren’t look. Not when I want to hold on to the illusion of disinterest a little bit longer.

  “Have a late start in the morning if you like.” Ted reaches for the wraps, pinching one between his fingers. “These the GF kind?”

  “Yeah.” I nod, chancing a look Jordan’s way in my periphery.

  He stays with his head down, hands on the laptop, yet his eyes are firmly on me.

  “Do you need anything else before you go?”

  “You have coffee in that break room?” Jordan rumbles.

  I let my gaze fall on his handsome face; sighing internally at how perfect he looks peering out at me from under those dark brows. He has the intense looked nailed down, that’s for sure.

  “How do you have it?”

  “Creamy and sweet,” he answers without hesitation.

  Damn him. My cheeks flame from the clear innuendo. “I’ll be right back. Would you like one, Ted?”

  “Nope.” He shakes his head, finishing his mouthful. “I’m good.”

  I can feel Jordan’s eyes on me as I exit the room, and damn if that doesn’t leave me wanting. His collar had been loosened, his sleeves rolled to the elbow. Knowing what he keeps hidden underneath that business attire makes the tease twice as powerful.

  My hands shake as I pull the coffee from the canister; the granules spill over the counter. I sweep them into the small sink, and try again.

  “I actually have it black.” His words cage me in to the room, his presence intimidating in the low light that spills from the open refrigerator.

  “You got here just in time then.” I lean across and put the creamer back, flicking the door shut after.

  Darkness envelops us both as he crosses the room. I set both hands on the edge of the counter, unable to continue when I can feel his heat at my back.

  I want this man, more than anything. But what truly holds me back is the thought he doesn’t really want me. If I cross this line, if I play this game, I just know I’ll fall hard and fast.

  Where does that leave me when he decides he’s had enough fun and wants to move on?

  “I know why you make me chase you.” He leans close, breath tickling my ear. “Because you want to make it hard for me. And we both know how you like it hard.”

  I’m down. I’m out for the count and he hasn’t laid a single finger on me. “Maybe I’m not interested in what you have to offer?”

  “And what would that be?” He takes my earlobe between his teeth, giving it a little pinch before caging me between his arms. “Pleasure, pain, and a little bit of both at once when the mood strikes?”

  Jordan’s fingers rest atop mine on the counter, his stance deliberate, I’m sure.

  I feel trapped and totally at his mercy.

  And I love it.

  “Short-term,” I answer. “You promise something that won’t last.”

  “And that’s not what you want?”

  I shiver when his tongue makes contact with the shell of my ear. My skin prickles with goose flesh. “No. It’s not.”

  He reaches his right arm across my body to take my left in his hold, and then effortlessly spins me to face him. I set my hands on his chest to save my balance, his proximity to me forcing my back to arch over the edge of the counter.

  “You want long-term?” he asks as though confused. “With me?”

  “Maybe with you. Maybe not. I don’t know for sure, I just know that I want to enter into a relationship with the possibility, that’s all.”

  His eyes search mine; his nostrils flare while he appears to search for what to say next. I reach between us and set my palm against his strong jaw to run the pad of my thumb across his cheekbone. He seems so … troubled … and for some odd reason I want nothing more than to ease that pain for him.

  Oh God. I am the one who can ease that pain, aren’t I?

  He exhales heavily out his nose, and then places his hand to my collarbone, his fingertips brushing my throat in a strangely revenant way.

  “If I promise you that possibility …”

  “Then what?” I whisper, frantic for the rest.

  “Then you’ll give me a second chance?”

  I shouldn’t. I should back out of this room and run. I should heed my brother’s warning and stay far away from a man who has done nothing but confuse me so far.

  “Corrine.” My names seeps desperation as it falls from his lips on a whisper, his hips pressing harder against my own.

  The thickness of his arousal between us is undeniable, as is the beat of my heart as he leans in close.

  “Say yes.” He doesn’t give me time to answer before his lips meet mine.

  I devour the man, plain and simple, relishing his taste, his warmth, and his apparent need as he tilts his head and deepens our connection. Jordan’s hands find my face, his hold punishing as he pulls me toward him while grinding his hips against me at the same time.

  I couldn’t care less about where we are right now. All I know is I can’t deny that I’ve thought about this moment numerous times over the years, wondered what it would feel like to have Jordan tell me he wants me as his.

  “Yes,” I breathe when he breaks away. “I’ll give you a second chance.”

  “Fuck, baby.” Strong hands hoist me to the counter, my legs wrapping around his hips on instinct. “This? Us? It starts now.”

  I reach for his shoulders to steady myself when Jordan lifts me clear of the counter. His powerful legs move us to the door, his arms sure as he balances my weight on one leg and kicks the break room door closed with the other.

  “Ted …”

  “Will know better than to open a closed door.” His mouth finds mine as he carries us to the small table, and then lays me on the flat surface. “If you it makes you feel better, we can wait.”

  God, no. Not when he has me this damn hot and bothered. “I can’t wait.”

  “Thank fuck,” he growls. “Because neither can I.”

  I gasp as he tugs on my blouse, coming close to ripping the buttons clean off in his haste to get it open. My pulse hammers in my neck, the throb matched by that in my wet and ready pussy. I’ve never met a man that had the ability to make me drip with desire. I thought it was a myth, made up in
stories, but one look at the man before me as he stands tall to peel his own shirt off, and I know there’s such a thing as visual stimulation.

  I could quite easily make myself come from watching him strip alone.

  “Goddamn, I can’t wait to get inside you,” he rumbles as he leans over me once more.

  I take ahold of my skirt, shimmying the fabric up my legs and under my butt. His thighs slam into the inside of mine, his erection thick and hard through his suit pants as he holds himself over me on strong muscular arms. My breasts heave as I draw breath, trying and failing desperately to calm my erratic heart. My hands connect with the thick muscles in his forearms, trailing up across his biceps, and to his shoulders, my arousal making my panties wetter the further I go.

  Goddamn, he feels perfect.

  “Fuck, Corrine.” Jordan ducks, taking a nipple into his hot mouth.

  I whimper as he sucks at the peak, nipping it gently before pulling away.

  “I can smell your sweet pussy, baby. You ready for me?”

  “So ready,” I moan, tilting my hips toward him as I do. “Fuck me, please. Skip the foreplay.”

  “You want this?” He cocks an eyebrow as he grinds his length against my needy pussy. “You want to feel me fill and stretch you again?”

  “Yes.” I reach for his belt, only to have him step away.

  He grins while he unbuckles himself, sure and cocky as he drops his pants to the floor. I groan at the sight of Jordan in nothing but his boxers, his thick and powerful legs moving toward me as he palms his cock.

  “I want you to taste how bad I need you, Corrine. I want the taste of my cock on your tongue when I fuck you.”

  My mouth waters at the thought. I palm my breasts, one hand sliding between my legs as he moves to the side of the table, desperate to relieve the need that aches in my core. He positions himself near my head, his strong hand pumping his erection, pulling glistening drops of precum to head.

  “Taste me, baby.”

  I open, eager for the feel of him on my tongue, against the back of my throat. Jordan steps forward, giving his cock one last stroke as he places the head against my bottom lip, and then with a gentle turn of his wrist, coats my lips with his salty taste.

  I lick them clean, groaning as I do. I want more. I need more.

  “You hungry for that, Corrine?” he growls. “You like the taste of my cock?”

  “More.”

  I’m rewarded when he slides his thick length between my lips, holding in place to let me take control. I roll to my slide a little, enough that I can take Jordan to the back of my mouth, letting his head nudge against my throat. He makes an animalistic growl in the back of his throat when I take him to my limit, my gag reflex gripping him tight.

  “Fuck, yes.”

  I work my head back and forth, massaging the underside of his cock with my tongue as I pump the base with my hand. The salt of his precum tickles my taste buds, the flavor changing the closer he gets to coming.

  “Spread those legs, baby.” He pulls from my mouth with a pop, his grip tight on his shaft to ease the need to release. “I want to reward that sweet pussy of yours.”

  The heels of my shoes clink against the legs of the table, my legs wide as my gathered skirt will allow. Jordan repositions himself between my thighs, leaning over me once more to taste my breasts, his lips skimming a path to my throat, and then to my mouth. His tongue tangles with mine, a groan breaking free as he undoubtedly tastes himself.

  I cry into our kiss as he enters me rough and with one hard stroke, claiming me right there on the goddamn break room table. There’s no way I’ll be able to eat lunch here again without thinking of this moment.

  Maybe that was his game?

  I can’t say I mind. Not when his thick cock filling me, stretching me, makes me feel this way.

  “Fuck, you feel perfect. Tight goddamn pussy, choking my fucking cock.”

  I whimper when his thumb hits my clit, rubbing tight circles. Waves of pleasure tickle my spine, my toes numb as the climax builds.

  “That’s it, baby. Show me how good you look when you come.”

  His thumb rubs me hard, sliding lower until he grazes it either side of where his cock enters me.

  “You want to feel me take you, Corrine? Give me your hand.”

  My teeth leave indents in my bottom lip, the need to come so goddamn close as Jordan guides my hand to my pussy, positioning my fingers evenly either side of where his cock pushes into my pussy. I’ve never done this before, essentially masturbated while having sex. But feeling him take me like this? Feeling how rock hard his cock is as he stakes his claim?

  My god, that’s the most erotic thing ever.

  “You feel that? You feel how hungry your pussy is for me?”

  “Yes,” I breathe.

  “You feel how fucking wet you are for me?”

  “Uh-huh.” So fucking wet. I’ll need to clean this damn table afterward.

  He pushes harder, shunting me across the surface a couple of times before he jerks me back against his cock with strong hands on my hips. I massage my swollen folds, rubbing the tight bundle of nerves at my clit, eager for that wave of euphoria I know is so near.

  Jordan places his hands under my thighs, pushing my knees back toward my chest. The change of position angles my hips, driving him deeper. His cock bottoms out, the strokes punishing as his breaths come hard and fast.

  “Fuck. I need to taste this. You smell too fucking good.”

  I cry out when he pulls from inside me, the loss of his fullness replaced with the intensity of his tongue when he bends and runs a path from the rose of my ass to the hood of my clit.

  “So fucking sweet.” His tongue spears my cunt, curling to catch my clit before he repeats the action again and again.

  I bury my fingers in his hair, eager to let go of the tension that builds low in my belly. My body balances on the brink of orgasm, the sensations too much, especially when he adds two fingers to the assault.

  “Come, baby,” he mumbles against my pussy. “I want to drink it all up when you come.”

  His fingers pump mercilessly, his mouth hot as he sucks my clit. I massage my breasts, my back arched off the table as the wave of tingles rush through me from head to toe. His mumbles of appreciation while he laps up everything I give him only spurs me on, and to my horror, I feel myself drench the table when he tickles my G-spot.

  I have never been a squirter. Never.

  “Oh, fuck yeah,” Jordan rumbles against my still twitching cunt. “That’s it, baby. Show me how goddamn happy this pussy is.”

  I swear my lip bleeds from the force of my bite, the need to cry out, to scream with pleasure so dire.

  For all I know, Ted’s already heard us.

  Oh my God. How could I do this? At work? With my boss three doors down.

  “So fucking sweet,” Jordan mumbles as my arousal quickly morphs to shame.

  “Stop.” I scoot away from his devilish mouth. “Enough.”

  He rears back, wiping his mouth with the back of his wrist. “What’s wrong?”

  My gaze drops to the clear arousal in his boxers. “I can’t do this here.”

  “I think you just did.” He cocks an eyebrow as he steps forward and runs his fingertips through the evidence of our sins left on the table.

  “Oh, God.” I hitch my legs high to swing them over the mess, and slide off the side of the table. “Why do you do this to me?”

  “Make you come?” He absently rearranges himself.

  I pause just long enough to regret missing out on the destruction that weapon wreaks. “Make me lose all rationality.”

  “Hey.” He stoops to collect his pants. “It’s not as though I make a habit of fucking women on the job either.”

  Good to know. “Get dressed and go,” I hiss. “I’ll clean up in here.”

  “My coffee?” His smirk makes me want to kiss him and start this madness all over again.

  “I’ll bring it in before I lea
ve, Mr. Bowman.”

  His nostrils twitch at the use of his formal title. “Very well, Ms. Seaworth.”

  I can’t help but crack. The way he leers my name as he jerks his shirtsleeves on … it’s comical. I chuckle under my breath as I tug my panties on beneath my skirt, and then smooth it all down.

  “Tell me,” Jordan says. “Do you have air freshener in here?”

  I narrow my gaze on him while my fingers work the buttons of my blouse. “I think so.”

  “Good.” He checks himself in the small mirror attached to the far wall. “You might want to use it.” A wicked smile graces his lips as he opens the door and then whispers, “Because it smells like sex in here. Specifically, sex with you.”

  The asshole winks, and then shuts the door again behind him.

  I’ve lost my mind.

  I’ve lost my goddamn mind.

  EIGHT

  Jordan

  To my relief, I found Ted in the boardroom on a call to his wife. He didn’t show any sign of suspicion throughout the rest of our meeting, his demeanor professional and light on our follow up call this morning.

  His company is in trouble. And there’s only one person to blame.

  Me.

  I said I’d find a reason to visit Corinne at work, and what better way than to put my skills to use?

  Chance, my ass. She might think it was pure coincidence, but I’ve planned her week down to the final detail, even if she does enjoy throwing spanners in the works such as her initial refusal to ‘try again.’

  “This wasn’t on the cards, Jordan.” Perry sighs down the line. “You’ve gone and compromised the whole feckin’ plan.”

  “How?” I snap, twirling a fountain pen on my leather desk pad. “There aren’t any links to Cloudbank.”

  “Except for the glaringly obvious one, you stupid shite.”

  “So what if they use the same third party to facilitate online transactions? Half the fucking world use CardPass.”

  “It’s risky.”

  “Just like you using the goddamn IP I have you for this job to place bets, Perry. Don’t give me a goddamn speech about keeping a clear division if you can’t do that yourself.”

  He hesitates, silence my only answer. He knows I have him. We’re about to pull off one of the most extensive hacks since Gonzalez was jailed, and here he is using custom IP addresses, made for the job, to decide if Running Solo will place in some no-name derby.