by Gina Gordon
“You think I don’t want to fuck you?” With two steps, his body was flush against mine. He gripped my hand, pulling it up to his chest. “Believe me, there is nothing more in this world I want to do. I want to bend you over that desk, pull up your dress, and rip your panties from your body.”
I sucked in a breath. His words were like a trigger. A lure of dirty talk that brought out the game player in me. “What if I’m not wearing any panties?”
His jaw tightened and I saw the muscles working under his skin. “Then you’re just making it easier for me to get what I want.”
I looked up, staring him down as best I could. “And what do you want?”
He considered his response as he slid his hand over his erection, cupping the thick outline against his khakis. I’d never been a fan of khaki pants. They reminded me too much of the guys in my business classes. But Ben made khakis look sinful and I wanted to run my tongue along every inch of that thick outline.
“Why are you knitting?” He croaked out the words. I barely recognized his voice.
Why the hell was he bringing up knitting at a time like this? But I responded, stepping back to get some perspective. “I’m trying new things.”
His breath had grown shallow and more frequent. “You’re bored, aren’t you?”
There was no way he could know. When you’re having sex three to five times a week, quitting cold turkey would be a shock to your system. No way could he have guessed that I was desperate to keep myself occupied. I searched his face for some sign that I was wrong.
“I’m not bored.” I let out a heavy breath and when our eyes met, those mesmerizing brown depths settled on mine, and I couldn’t lie to him. “I’m restless.”
“Do you ever think about that afternoon?” he whispered. He reached out to place his hand on my hip, but I stepped back again. I had zero control of myself right now and the thing I wanted more than anything was suddenly too close for comfort.
“I think about that night.” He pointed to his desk. “When I fucked you in that exact spot.”
My stomach fluttered and I had to dig my nails into my thighs to keep myself from jumping him.
His eyes were shifty, moving from one spot on my body to another, taking in the slight heave of my chest, the quiver in my stomach and my stocking-covered legs.
Fuck me sideways, this man was killing me. Actually, I’d give anything for him to fuck me sideways. Frontward. Backward. Any way. Just as long as his dick was inside me.
Right. Fucking. Now.
“I’ve fantasized about the next time we’d be together.” His words were gruff, like the rumble of thunder in my ear. “How you’d suck my cock.”
He stalked toward me in one giant, elegant stride. His erection was in touching distance and my fingers itched to reach out and grab it, but I retreated. Unfortunately, the desk prevented me from gaining any more distance. A sly grin curved at the side of his mouth. My hands tightened around the edge of the desk as he approached, his body almost close enough to press into mine.
“I think you’d like it if I laid you on that desk and pulled out my cock. If I fucked your mouth while you fucked yourself with your fingers.”
His scent swirled through my nostrils like an aphrodisiac. My breath caught in my throat as he leaned over, hoping, willing him to kiss me. He reached out and with one finger traced the side of my cheek, across my shoulder, and down my arm until he hovered between my legs.
At this point, I had zero shame. I lifted my pelvis, hoping for some kind of contact. But his hand was too quick. His need to stay away from me too strong to fulfill my wish.
“Maybe you’d like it if I spread your legs and fucked you again.”
“Yes,” I croaked out the word. The space between my legs throbbed; like its own damn heartbeat, it pulsed in time with the rapid beat of my heart.
He hummed in my ear. “If I fucked you, baby, I wouldn’t be gentle.” I bit my bottom lip and this time it was his turn to groan. “I wouldn’t be thinking about your needs. It would be hard. Fast. Because I take what I want.”
I lifted my head and our eyes met. “Take anything you want.”
Overwhelmed by the electricity coursing between us, I lunged forward and captured his lips, my hands pressing against his cheeks so he had no choice but to let me do it.
I moaned into his mouth, and that sparked his participation. With his hands around my waist he pulled me forward and just like he had in front of the camera, he devoured me. My entire body tingled with the force of his lips, and suddenly I couldn’t remember why I had promised myself I’d stay away.
But just as fast as it had started, it ended. He pulled away, sucking in a deep breath as he stumbled back.
“I don’t deserve you, Grace.”
I gulped down air in sharp breaths, trying to calm the need buzzing across my skin, but I couldn’t control the flutter of my heart at the sound of my real name on his lips.
“I’m not the happily ever after type.” His words were like a shot to the heart. “Never will be.”
And that’s when I remembered exactly why I had promised I’d stay away from Ben Lockwood. I wanted a man who would put me first. A man who believed in monogamy. Ben was too wrapped up in his own world to think about anyone but himself.
“It’s best if you learn that now, rather than when it’s too late.”
He didn’t have to worry.
I might be looking for my happily ever after, but not with him.
Not with Ben Lockwood.
Chapter 8
Ben
When Grace agreed to take me shopping, it had been before I’d cornered her on my desk last night. Before I had realized that things between her and me could never be just friendly.
From the first time we’d fucked there was something different about her, and that scared the shit out of me. No matter how much I wanted to keep things platonic, the pull between us was just too intense, too different from anything I’d ever experienced. Sex would have been easy, but this “thing” we had didn’t fit into any compartment I’d ever created. And I had no idea what to do with it.
I had been close to breaking my promise last night, but somehow I’d garnered enough willpower to keep our interaction to a scorching kiss, which only served to turn me on even more. I had thought if I kept my mind in game mode, I’d have some hope of leaving there with my balls still attached. Unfortunately, the moment I saw Grace walk near the fountain, across the sunken middle of the shopping mall, it had confirmed only one thing.
She was definitely carrying my balls in her purse.
She wore tight jeans tucked into black stiletto boots, a dark gray knit sweater exposing one shoulder and collarbone, the straps of a tank top visible on her shoulder, a purse and coat slung over her arm. She stalked toward me, her auburn hair billowing behind her, and I swear I heard music. Our eyes were locked, neither of us looking away as she got closer with every sultry step. It should have been awkward. But instead, having the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen smile and lower her gaze at me made me feel ten feet tall. Like I could slay any dragon or scale the highest wall. For the next couple of hours, she was mine. And if I couldn’t have her in my bed, I’d settle for the mall.
“Hi.” She reached out, her hand in a fist, gently nudging my bicep in greeting with a sheepish look on her face.
I mimicked her action, nudging my own fist to her arm and returned her greeting. “Hi.”
We stood in silence for a moment, the rush of the water through the faucets in the fountain echoing in my ears. But as if she had some kind of programming controlling her personality, she pulled back, a look of indifference washing over her face.
“Case in point.” She wagged her finger up and down my body, referring to my lack of dressing the part.
I laughed. “You don’t like my Saturday shopping casual.” I settled back, spreading my arms so she could get a good look under my North Face jacket. Jeans, ripped beneath the pocket on the left side and a Toron
to Blue Jays long-sleeved T-shirt. “Just like you said, I’m dressing the part.”
I hadn’t given much thought to accommodating my life or appearance for a woman, because I’d never thought I’d be with one long enough for it to even be an issue. I was seriously second-guessing this idea. I didn’t need new clothes. I could have managed to put something together that was presentable enough for the speakers session.
“You want those kids to think you’re in high school or the VP of White Lace?” She pursed her lips and for the first time since she’d shown up, she looked at me. Really looked at me. Her eyes burrowing deep into mine, searching, assessing. I’d never met anyone who wanted to get the root of everything. Whether it be a problem, a person, or the decision to choose soup or salad.
I huffed out a hard breath. “Why would I try to be someone I’m not?”
I still didn’t understand her motivations, and if I was honest, it hurt what little feelings I had that she wanted me to change. But maybe that’s exactly what I needed to do in order to be taken seriously.
“I think you’re great.” She reached out, her hands sliding over my shoulders and straightening me out. “Just the way you are. But I’ve learned that in order to get people to take you seriously, you have to be serious. If you want those kids to see you as the vice president of a major corporation and not a peddler of porn, then you need to be that professional.” Her eyes gleamed with mischief. “And that includes dressing the part.”
I groaned. “Can’t we just go to Gap and pick out some stuff?”
“Bite. Your. Tongue.” She swatted my chest and then settled at my side, wrapping her arm around mine. “Your credit card is getting a good workout today, Mr. Lockwood. Are you ready?”
She was doing this to help me. For my own good. Although I still had no idea why, or if I could trust her to finish it. I had to take her words at face value, even though every fiber of my being told me not to believe her.
I looked into her eyes; the sparkling jade never failed to knock me off my game. I took a deep breath and in my best impersonation said, “Get to the chopper.”
She looked at me with confusion then finally said, “Arnold?”
I shook my head. “If we’re going to be spending time together, can you just Google some movie quotes? Then you won’t look at me like I’m weird.”
The first place she dragged me to was a high-end men’s store I’d never shopped in before. Ever. But I gave her the benefit of the doubt and followed her inside.
She fiddled through a couple of racks, but all I saw were confining, trendy clothing I wouldn’t want to be caught dead in.
“Can I help you?” A soft voice sounded behind me.
“Yes, hello.” Grace greeted the salesgirl with a smile and a knowing glance in my direction. What was she up to?
“I need to find something acceptable for my new assistant. I can’t have him walking around the office looking like a schoolboy.” She placed her hand at her mouth, hiding it from him, and whispered loudly, “We can’t have my clients thinking I picked him up off the street.”
“Of course,” the girl responded.
Grace liked playing games. There was an edge of danger to her personality that I couldn’t quite figure out. I wasn’t sure if it was her way of having fun or a means to keep her real self locked up tight. But a little harmless role-play in a shopping mall couldn’t lead to a major catastrophe. So I’d play along.
“But you did pick me up off the street, remember?” I walked closer, much too close for a boss/assistant relationship. “Although that first night you weren’t thinking about work.”
Her palm cupped my cheek and she practically purred, then looked at the salesgirl. “I think we can find a few things on our own. I’ll let you know if we need any help.”
The girl nodded, her brown hair falling into her eyes before she walked away and approached another customer.
To my happiness, we didn’t look around, but instead walked out of the store. Grace was barely able to contain her laughter.
“You sure are good at that. Pretending to be someone else.”
She shrugged. “I’ve had a lot of practice.”
Whether she’d catered to role-playing fantasies or not, even straight sex involved a certain level of acting, especially when you were doing it for a living. Even I knew that.
We walked side by side through the mall, making it halfway around the figure-eight layout when she pulled me into another trendy store.
“No way.” She lost her grip on my arm when I stopped short.
“Come on.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “The game’s not over.” When I still didn’t move, she grabbed my hand and pulled it to her chest. “Please? Just try it out.”
I entered under protest, although my dissent didn’t really make a difference. We perused the racks, and once again a salesgirl approached us.
“Hello,” Grace acknowledged the blond teen. “We’re looking for some new clothes for my brother.” The teen’s smile lit up at the mention of “brother.” She eyed me like a two-dollar buffet, her gaze starting at my black boots and moving up my body until she looked into my eyes. I was seriously uncomfortable, considering she was definitely under eighteen.
I cleared my throat and walked closer to Grace, as if somehow she’d protect me from the big, bad teen girl with flowers on her manicure.
“What are you looking for? Business? Casual?” she asked.
“Business.” Grace leaned in to me, much too close to be considered brother and sister. “What do you think, Benji? Something to make the girls in your class hot.”
The girl did a laugh-choke, then cleared her throat. “Let me pick out a few items and bring them to the change room.”
“Really?” I glared at Grace. “You’re going to give that poor girl a heart attack. She thinks she’s watching incest in progress.” I was all for a little game playing, but I drew the line at incest.
“Come on, don’t be such a prude.” She walked away, picking a few things off the racks on her way to the back of the store.
I’d never been called a prude before. The fact that I rejected Grace at every turn didn’t help my case for non-prude status. Was not having sex on a regular basis turning me into one?
When I joined her in the change room area, she pushed me behind a curtain and slapped the garments against my chest. I had to grab them before they hit the floor.
With disgruntled noises, I pulled my shirt over my head and buttoned the white shirt with blue pinstripes then put on the navy slacks she’d picked out.
“Let’s see what we’re working with here, Benji.”
I stepped out, shaking my head at my new nickname, but not hating the way I looked.
“That’s great.” The teen had shown up with a pile of clothes, some of which I could already tell were not getting anywhere near my body. “That shirt fits you perfectly.”
“Doesn’t it?” Grace walked behind me, her hands slid up my back and around my shoulders, until they rested, one on each pec. She squeezed. “And these pants.” She stepped back, and despite the wrongness of our role-play, I missed the feel of her body against mine. What I didn’t know was whether she was doing this to turn me on, to sate her own craving, or simply to mess with the salesgirl.
She slapped my ass and I cringed.
The young girl’s eyes went wide. “You two are pretty close for brother and sister.”
Grace froze, rising on her toes to rest her chin on my shoulder. “Did I forget to mention he’s my stepbrother?”
As if she’d been holding her breath, the teen’s shoulders slumped forward. “I brought you these.” She held out her arms and Grace looked through her pile.
“No.” She tapped her chin, pretending to be thinking, but I knew she wasn’t. “I’m not sure about these. Actually, I’m not sure about any of it.” She turned, her finger pressed against her lips. To hold in a laugh, maybe? “Let’s think on it and come back.”
I rolled my eyes, slippin
g behind the curtain to put my clothes back on.
We continued through the mall, making our way to the opposite end until we’d arrived at a men’s specialty clothing store.
I caught a glimpse of a tag on our way inside. Expensive. I had no idea how a T-shirt could cost one hundred and twenty dollars.
The store was empty, except for us and a dark-haired man standing behind a counter.
“Marco?” Grace sang the man’s name.
“Grace.” I did not like the smile that lit up his face when he saw her. Not one bit. “It’s been way too long.”
She hugged him, a little closer, a little tighter than I would have liked. He was just an average-looking guy with dark hair and brown eyes. A prominent nose and chiseled jaw.
“Marco Tonelli…” Grace gestured between us. “This is Ben Lockwood and we are in need of a suit.”
Marco held out his hand. “Nice to meet you, bro.”
I was civil, returning his handshake, but quickly pulled away when Grace kissed his cheek.
“Let me get my measuring tape and we’ll start.” Marco excused himself and we were left alone.
“So, how do you know Marco?” I hated the tone of my voice. It was curt. Distrusting.
She placed my jacket along with her coat and purse behind the counter. She was comfortable here. She knew this place. And with the greeting they’d given each other there was only one conclusion…
“I’ve known Marco for a very long time. Everly knows him, too, because he went to our high school.”
I had jumped to the most logical conclusion, that she’d had sex with him. Would there ever be a time when that wasn’t my first thought?
“I’ve been with a lot of rich businessmen and they prefer expensive things. Like suits. You need to look the part, right? You need a good suit and Marco and his father are the best tailors in the city.”
I laughed to myself. “You had no intention of buying anything in those other stores, did you?”
“Nope.” She giggled. “But it was fun.”
Marco returned, a measuring tape around his neck and a pincushion with many dangerous-looking sharp objects sticking out of it.
