Rapid Pulse: A Limited Edition Spicy Romance Collection

by Gina Kincade

She caught herself repeating that sentence too many times a day. The idea started as a self-deprecating joke, but grew on her over the previous week. Each time he paraded his strong thighs in front of Carol’s desk, her lower body reacted with a wave of hot liquid pooling inside it, making her wonder what it would be like to wrap those legs around her waist. It wasn’t her fault if the soft material of the black dress pants he wore to work could barely contain his bulging muscles, was it? And every time she caught him stealing a glance at her ass, when he thought she wasn’t looking, she imagined what it would feel like to sit on his face and let him feast on her pussy, suckling at her clit, until she came multiple times.

  God, I need to get my mind out of the playroom, she scolded herself.

  Mark deserved her utmost respect. He had a natural talent for the stock market, as well as a sharp and creative mind. He had a bright future ahead of him at Horizon Inc., despite the bumpy start in his new position as her personal assistant, which was only a temporary thing. His talents would be better employed as one of the company’s brokers. She would find a suitable assistant. Eventually. Granted, the last five had been total failures, but she was confident the next one would be a keeper. If only she got someone who would stay for more than a month. Is it too much to ask?

  A discreet knock on the door announced Mark’s presence before he opened it and stuck his head inside. Pretending to drag her eyes from very important documents, she stared blankly at him. He bought it.

  His cheeks turned a light pink as he asked, “Is this a bad time? I can come back when you’re ready for me.”

  Carol’s dirty mind pictured him spread-eagle and bound to her bed, so ready for her she could almost taste it. She tried and failed to keep a knowing grin from parting her lips wide as she replied, “I’m ready for you now.”

  The effect her double entendre had on him was worth her while. The rose color on his cheeks turned deep red and his nostrils flared. She was treading a very thin line. She was aware of the potential disastrous repercussions of an office fling, not to mention the liability of a sexual harassment suit. On the other hand, she read people quite well. If she got her assessment of Mark right, he would not harm her with legal action. There was always the possibility of a preemptive agreement. If they signed a contract establishing clear expectations and boundaries on both sides, including confidentiality clauses, they might make it work.

  She knew better, though. At least her conscience did and reminded her of that. Don’t go there!

  Even if she didn’t intend on acting out on her fantasies, she enjoyed playing with the possibilities in her head. It might not be fair to the poor guy, but she didn’t mean to cause him any real harm or distress. Just a little pumping of blood through his veins and getting her juices going. If the bulging front of his pants was a trustworthy indication, she managed to do that at least, because her panties felt damp. Good. They were both getting some healthy fun out of the situation.

  Putting the papers down on the table, she motioned for him to enter. “Come in. Brought the files?”

  He opened his laptop and sat at the round table she used for brief meetings. “You said next week’s appointments, correct?”

  His avoiding to make eye contact with her didn’t go unnoticed. In fact, it made her pussy tingle, then flutter. His vulnerability taunted the dominatrix in her in ways Carol had rarely experienced. Yet the little speech she made in her head, just a moment ago, about office flings and lawsuits couldn’t be ignored. She had to get her act together and be a boss, not a top.

  She focused on that notion, turned on her inner cold bitch and spoke with the flattest tone she could summon up, “If I repeat myself every ten minutes, I won’t be able to do my job, don’t you think?”

  The frown knitting his eyebrows together as he snapped his head up to face her proved she hit the mark. Before the confusion in his stare got to her, she returned her attention to the documents on her table. Not without mentally kicking herself in the shin for going bipolar on the unsuspecting man. She needed to work on her social skills, her mother used to say, on the rare occasions she stayed home with Carol, instead of globetrotting after her diplomat husband.

  The way he hunched over the computer did nothing to ease her guilt. It was going to be a long night if she couldn’t focus on what was important. It would be an even longer night, if Mark couldn’t do his part. Judging by the time he was spending on one single spreadsheet, his mind had drifted. It was her fault it happened, she should fix it. Maybe it would be better if they cleared the air once and for all.

  She unfolded from her chair and took a seat beside Mark, intent on straightening things out between them. He paused, fingers hovering over the keyboard, wrists resting on the edge of the table, but he kept his eyes glued on the laptop screen. A thick vein pulsing on the right side of his neck and a muscle trembling on his jaw indicated he might not be as mellow as she thought. She would bet he was reining in a volatile temper, which piqued her interest instead of dousing it.

  Unable to stick to her original plan, Carol leaned close to him until her breast brushed his upper arm and whispered into his right ear, “Do I make you uncomfortable?”

  He blinked for a moment longer than a person would under normal circumstances and blew out a sigh before slowly turning his head to face her. “That could describe how I feel, but I would use a different word.”

  Her eyebrow shot up as the formerly believed submissive displayed undeniable spunk. Her nipples got hard at the thought of disciplining his bad behavior. When her eyes followed his gaze, she licked her lips as her throat got dry. He sported an impressive hard-on, which her gut sensed was probably at half-mast. She would love to watch it become a full-on erection under her command.

  “I’ve been dying to do this for a long time,” she confessed as she cupped the bulge between his legs and confirmed her suspicions. He was still half soft. His sharp intake of air filled her ears and she whispered, “I love this sound. I just hope I don’t regret doing this later on.”

  As if reading her thoughts, he addressed her unspoken question. “I’d never do anything to harm you or the company. You should know that about me by now.” His last words came out in a strangled hiss because Carol opened the fly of his pants and freed his swelling cock.

  “Keep your hands on the table and your eyes on the screen,” she instructed as she scooted her chair over until she straddled his right side, trapping him in place because a wall blocked his left side.

  She fisted his thick shaft and pumped it, making sure her palm or thumb slid over the soft purple head every time she moved up or down his length. Her pussy vibrated with each inch of Mark’s flesh that she made harder, but she managed to watch with detachment as the first droplets of pre-cum seeped through the slit in his cock. She smeared his head with them and his whole body shook.

  “Oh, fuck!” He shut his eyes and she stopped moving her hand.

  “Eyes on the screen.”

  Her flat tone didn’t denounce the raging fire that consumed her veins as she observed his reaction to her touch. It was fascinating. When he dragged his eyelids open and stole a glance her way before zeroing in on the dark computer screen, she almost lost her grip on her emotions. It was all she could do not to shove her tongue down his throat.

  She resumed working on the hand job, but didn’t resist nuzzling the side of his neck. She licked a spot right below his ear and nipped the tip of his earlobe. Mark’s cock jolted in her hand, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the edge of the table.

  “Am I making you uncomfortable?”

  He shook his head signaling she was not and her pussy got flooded by more hot liquid. She might have been able to disguise her excitement in her tone of voice, but nothing could conceal the scent of pleasure in the room. His and hers.

  “Can you smell how you make me feel?”

  He nodded, once. She admired his restraint. She would enjoy testing his limits, some other time.

  “Care to taste how yo
u make me feel?”

  His eyes widened and his nostrils flared, but he simply nodded in agreement. She smiled and let go of his hard cock to guide his hand under her pin skirt until the pad of his fingers touched the drenched silk of her panties. She let out a soft chuckle watching his cock jerk when his fingers connected with the wet material. Eyes glued to his shaft, gauging his reactions, she held his index and middle fingers, moved her panties to one side, then dipped them in her pussy. She didn’t go deep, just enough to smear her juices on both digits.

  She watched his dick pulsate while she guided his fingers to his mouth. “Lick them dry.”

  As he obeyed her command, she gripped his hard flesh, intent on finishing him off. Although she had not planned on having sex with Mark, now that she started it, she felt it was important to establish their roles as top and bottom. She would use the hand job to do that.

  “Keep your eyes on the screen, we’re almost there.”

  Her soothing words got interrupted by the loud buzzing of the intercom.

  “Shit! I forgot I ordered dinner.” He looked at her in panic.

  Aware that laughing wouldn’t be an acceptable reaction to the poor man’s conundrum, even if it were a nervous laughter, Carol kept it to herself. “I’ve got this, Mark.”

  She leapt from the chair and pressed the flashing button labeled ‘reception’. At that late hour, she got redirected to speak with a security guard in the main lobby of the building. “Yes?”

  “Dinner is here, ma’am,” announced a male voice.

  “Be right there,” she replied, grabbing her wallet and releasing the button.

  As she walked to the elevator, she spotted Mark hurrying to get inside the restroom by the office reception. She couldn’t blame the guy for wanting privacy. If the elevator didn’t have security cameras, she would have her fingers up her pussy right now, stroking the tension away. As it was, she leaned against the railing, crossed her legs at the ankles and pretended to check her cell phone, while she pressed her thighs together, alleviating some of the internal pressure. All her Kegel exercising was finally paying off.

  Chapter Three

  Grunting, Mark pumped his cock until it spurted its contents up in the air. It didn’t take much effort on his part. He shook his head as he grabbed paper towels from the dispenser and wiped himself clean of the white goo. The last time he jerked off in a public place was during his junior prom. After a particularly slow dance with Jenny McNamara, he hid in a stall in the restroom and unloaded his cock into a handkerchief. He had no self-control then, but he was fucking sixteen!

  He should have lasted longer tonight. He knew how to delay his gratification. He knew how to put his top’s pleasure ahead of his own, at all times. Carol’s approach took him by surprise and subverted the type of dynamic he was used to with previous mistresses. She went for the jugular, so to speak, setting her dominance over him by controlling his pleasure instead of demanding hers. She was good!

  And she tasted divine. None of his fantasies held a torch to the real deal. Tonight, he had a chance to get a quick sample, but that only left him yearning for more. He could barely wait to sink his tongue inside her and suck her clit until she wailed his name. Too bad it wouldn’t happen any time soon. The restaurant delivery service broke the spell and Carol would be out of town for most of the upcoming week as the keynote speaker at two international conferences in New Orleans.

  Studying his face in the mirror as he washed his hands, Mark realized he hadn’t felt this alive in a long time. Maybe never. Office flings be damned, Carol Sullivan was a keeper. He couldn’t let her fear of an imaginary sexual harassment lawsuit on his part ruin everything. She didn’t know how deep his loyalties could run. Yet. With time, she would. He was patient. For now, he would take whatever she was willing to give him. No doubt about that.

  He mopped his hands in the paper towel, balled it and threw it in the trash. “Score!” He celebrated the fictional three-pointer as he left the restroom.

  “Playing for the home team, I suppose?” Carol’s amused voice sounded right behind him and he almost jumped out of his skin.

  “Let me help,” he offered and grabbed two bags from her hand without waiting for a reply.

  “There’s enough to feed a small army here.”

  “You did say we were going to work through the night. I kind of binge eat when I need to stay up.”

  She gave him a once-over, opened her mouth, then closed it again without saying a word. A flash of something naughty glimmered deep in her eyes, but he would never know what it was for sure, because she apparently chose to ignore it. She was going to play it safe, that much was beginning to become clear to him. He just convinced himself he would take whatever she offered, thinking she would offer something, though. What if she did not? Should he press the subject? Could he?

  She deposited the bags on the table and proceeded to empty them of their contents, opening the containers and splitting them between the two of them.

  “Smells great. I love Italian food. Good call.”

  He hesitated a moment, still considering if he should try to steer them back to where they were ten minutes ago, but Carol’s reluctance to look him in the eyes was a huge tell. Her aloofness might have more to do with herself than with a fear of being sued by him.

  “It’s in my blood,” he replied, deciding to play along.

  “Aikens isn’t an Italian name.”

  Her habitual poise returned as she began to eat her salad.

  “My mom was part Irish and part Italian.”

  “That’s a fascinating combination. Have you visited either country?”

  “Not yet. You?”

  “A few times.”

  During that first shared meal, Mark was surprised to find out that she kept the conversation going with ease, but only about trivial topics. With time, he would come to understand that it was one of Carol’s most treasured rituals. She avoided talking shop during meals, unless they were clearly set up as a business function.

  When they washed down the last morsel of juicy lasagna with a long swig of Sparkling Limonata, Mark felt like he wouldn’t be able to eat again for days.

  Carol didn’t seem to share the same opinion. Opening the small fridge in the corner of her office where she had put away the desserts, she looked over her shoulder at him. Excitement made her face beam, like a little girl’s in a candy shop. “How can one choose between tiramisu and panna cotta? Or zabaglione and cannoli?”

  He grinned at her enthusiasm, forgetting he felt full a moment ago. “Beats me?”

  “Maybe we should try them all.”

  Her personal phone vibrated on the table beside her plate. Not sure if he should take the call, he glanced her way. She gave permission with a nod as she piled containers on her arms. Swiping the screen open, he recognized the area code for New Orleans. “Hello? Carol Sullivan’s phone, this is her assistant speaking.”

  The person on the other side of the line hesitated for a moment and Mark could hear indistinct voices in the background, but no other clue as to where they were calling from.

  “Hello?” He insisted.

  “Sorry about that. I apparently suck at multitasking. This is Jenny with Club Desire. I’m calling about your reservation for the night of the twenty-eighth. You booked the Purple Dungeon, but we’re offering you an upgrade to the Gilded Cage at no additional cost.”

  “Just a moment, please.” He held out the phone to Carol, who stood beside his chair, having set the desserts on the table. If he wasn’t feeling like the ground had disappeared from under him, he would find her quizzical expression funny. He did not.

  “Who’s that?” Carol barked into the speaking piece and he almost felt sorry for Jenny. He did not though.

  Carol’s facial expression didn’t give away her thoughts as Jenny probably repeated the offer to its rightful recipient. Mark had visited enough sex clubs in his life to recognize the terms Jenny employed. He had no right to get upset over discoveri
ng Carol’s upcoming trip to the dark side. Yet he was tied up in knots.

  “Thanks, but I don’t care for the Cage. It’s too public. I’m looking for privacy.”

  In the time he worked for Horizon Inc., he had never seen Carol with the same date more than three times, always at business functions disguised as social events. She was an unattached female dominant in an unforgiving chauvinist profession. It was only natural she would frequent sex clubs to tend to her needs.

  Still, a bitter taste of failure lingered in his mouth. Maybe it was for the best, having his hopes squashed like that, nipped at the bud. It served him right for presuming Carol Sullivan wanted him. She came on to him earlier, no doubt about that. He also had no doubt about the way she felt when she touched him. She got off on that as much as he did. But it must have been a fluke. He didn’t have a real shot at her and the sooner he accepted that, the better. Except, his cock still twitched in his briefs at the memory of her touch.

  Chapter Four

  Carol’s brain addled with suppressed anger and she vowed to get that Jenny girl fired ten times till Sunday. Her gelid voice got misleadingly soft when she suggested, “One last thing, Jenny, is it? Next club member you call, you might want to double check who answers the phone before divulging information.”

  The dead silence on the other side of the line screamed shame in Carol’s ears. Good.

  “I’m aware I blundered, Ms. Sullivan. Big time. For all it’s worth, I apologize and promise to be more careful moving forward. I know it’s no excuse, but today is my first day on this job,” her voice quivered and Carol heard soft sniffing.

  Sighing, she tried to control her natural impulse and lost to her bleeding heart. By a landslide. Despite what strangers believed, deep down she had nothing in common with Scrooge. Her soothing voice conveyed how much she cared, when she spoke again into the phone, “Let me guess, you’ve been out of jobs for a while.”

  “Little over a year now, barring an occasional temp or two.”