“I, uh…” He stumbled on a lie and drew a blank. Seeing her look at him so sleep-tossed and sexy, he thought of a very plausible reason to have come back tonight, if he’d known she was here. It involved picking her up and laying her on his desk. Lifting her shirt to bring his mouth to her warm soft curves, kissing, sucking, tasting. Nudging her legs open and standing between them as he brought her hand to his zipper.
“Jon?”
Shit, he wished that were the reason he was here. Hell of a lot simpler. Not to mention more fun.
“I couldn’t sleep. I went out to have a drink and found myself in the neighborhood. On purpose, I mean. I was hoping to catch you here. I know you practically live at the office.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. Jen said you had a nice apartment.”
“No, I mean why did you want to catch me here? What is it?”
She was the picture of casual desirability, one hand in her long tousled hair, the other toying with the bottom edge of her shirt, yawning. Oh yeah, she was very obviously not wearing a bra, her breasts swaying slightly, a hint of nipples outlined against the material.
There was five feet between them, but his breath came faster anyway, and he couldn’t stop staring at her body, his eyes flicking down. Any minute now she was going to notice that he was having a predictable reaction. Much as he was trying to hold it off, his cock was getting heavy and hard, straining against his fly. And that mental picture of laying her on the desk moved on to include untying her drawstring pants and dipping his hand down them.
He shifted uncomfortably, but she didn’t seem to notice his distraction, as if the circumstances were no different between them than they had been in the middle of the day.
“Did you forget something?” she prompted, giving him the perfect out.
“Ah, yeah, ah…turns out I couldn’t get this book I was reading out of my mind. So I came back to get my Kindle. I didn’t think I should come in if you weren’t here, though. Didn’t want to seem like a…”
He drifted off, not even sure what he meant, but she nodded, awfully gullible if you asked him, or maybe still half asleep. She practically curled up on one of the office chairs, tucking her long legs beneath her, even her bare feet slender, and hugging her knees. She smiled at him lazily. “Don’t let me stop you.”
Which was kind of a problem since he didn’t really have a Kindle here.
“But I am glad you came back,” she added.
The hopeful feeling that statement engendered didn’t help with the erection thing. “You are?”
“Sure. You woke me up and I didn’t mean to goof off. I should get up and put in a few hours.”
He sat in his own office chair across from her. “Goof off? Liv, it’s nearly midnight. Weren’t you supposed to be out celebrating anyway?”
“Jen’s doing her celebration fine without me. I was replaced by a hot guy in black who has a sunglass fixation.”
“Maybe he’s a vampire,” Jon muttered and she laughed, the reaction seeming to wake her up a bit as she sat up straighter and did that stretching thing that made him think of anchoring her uplifted arms back against a wall and holding her still so he could open her mouth with his tongue and kiss her long and deep.
“A vampire. I hadn’t thought of that. Maybe. But based on the company he was keeping, his wingman, I mean, he was probably more like an overgrown frat boy with a desperate need to look cool.”
Jon knew he should be pretending to get his ereader, unlocking the desk drawer and feigning slipping it out before she woke up to full alertness. But instead he was content to watch her. Watch how the pajama bottoms hung low enough to expose a little strip of bare abdomen when she stretched. How she batted her hair out of her eyes and licked her lips to get the sleep dryness out of them.
“What wingman?” he asked, his voice low.
“Nothing. Just a guy who was pretty drunk. Friend of the guy Jen was dancing with.”
“Oh, he hit on you, I suppose,” Jon couldn’t help but comment.
She fixed her sleepy green eyes on him and shook her head. “Not quite. He sort of mentioned I wasn’t up to his standards.”
His standards. What the fuck? Some douche-bag had the nerve to say that to her? Not that he wanted Liv Altman to hook up with anybody at that bar tonight, for reasons he wasn’t examining, but the guy must have been drunk out of his mind not to have made a play for her in that red dress. Or else blind.
The tender, protective feeling coursing through him out of nowhere, together with the erection, was confusing his poor little brain. Since his cock was draining all the blood from it presently, that was probably okay though.
She got up from her chair and wandered over to the coffee maker and, mesmerized by the sight, he forgot to be outraged on her behalf. The lack of panty lines through the thin pajama pants as she faced the sink meant she had no underwear on.
God, he wished he could come up behind her and wrap one arm around her narrow waist, use the other to slip the bottoms down and expose her bare, silky flesh to his gaze. And then to his touch.
“Jon.”
He came to. “I’m sorry?”
She glanced back his way, turning on the coffee maker. “I said do you want some coffee or do you have to get going?”
“Coffee this time of night?” he said weakly. “You’ll be up for hours.”
“I want to be.”
So did he, but he doubted they had the same idea for a nighttime activity. Fuck the desk. For this he’d need a bed and both of them to forget their respective work for a little while. Suddenly, shockingly, that was all he wanted.
“I don’t have much luck with guys at bars,” she was saying now, her back still turned to him as she busied herself getting a mug down from the cupboard. “Or at all, I guess you might say.”
He should go on home. Return tomorrow and fight the good fight. Not sit here, drawn by the vulnerable note in her voice and the insane sense he was getting that she didn’t have any confidence in her own incredible attractiveness to the opposite sex.
He could pretty easily prove her wrong, right here, right now.
“The guys you meet are nuts then.”
“Thanks. Maybe. I don’t know, Jen always had a way with guys and I just…didn’t.” Her slender shoulders shrugged. “I’m focused on my career, so it doesn’t matter. But sometimes, I don’t know, I’d like to be asked to dance, I guess.”
He stood up. “Well, that was an invitation if I’ve ever heard one.”
If he couldn’t do what he really wanted right now, at least he’d have an excuse to touch her.
She glanced back at him with a slight smile as he went to the old-fashioned radio on the corner of the countertop.
“Jon, that was Cecily’s, I’m warning you. Who knows what’ll come out of it.”
With a twist of the knob, it was Sinatra that did. Cool. He loved Sinatra. Kind of a sign he figured. Fly me to the moon.
He held out a hand to her. “Okay. Come on. Dance with me.”
She shook her head, laughing. “I wasn’t hinting for a dance. I was just talking too much. I don’t know why…you’re a very good listener, Mr. Consultant. That’s all.”
“I’m a very good dancer too.”
“Well, newsflash, I’m not.” Her hands seemed glued to the sink. “I’ll embarrass us both.”
“It’s impossible to be embarrassed when there are only two people on the dance floor and nobody’s watching. I promise.”
Carefully, he pried her hands away from the sink, the first touch between them electric, and then tugged her to him, keeping their joined hands clasped up by his chest, as he put his other lightly on her waist and she draped her free one on his shoulder.
They moved together slowly, gradually.
Let me see what spring is like/ on Jupiter and Mars…
“See? You can so dance, Miss Altman.”
“There was a lot more gyrating going on at the bar.”
Swayin
g to Sinatra, their bodies not quite touching, their eyes locked. Hers were some subtle combination of forest green and gold glints, with surprisingly dark eyelashes for a blonde, though he doubted she had any makeup on. She looked fresh scrubbed and achingly lovely with bare pink lips. He wanted to nuzzle her soft neck and feel the butterfly touch of her lashes against his cheek as they danced. He settled for bringing their clasped hands to his mouth and lightly kissing her fingers, hearing her draw in a quick breath.
“So chivalrous,” she said in a low tone.
Chivalrous, hell. It took every damn ounce of willpower he had not to tug her toward him and close the distance between them. To keep dancing. But he did. He wanted her to have her spin.
With her height, they fit well as he twirled her around and dipped her, an endeavor she suffered with a yelp, their faces close together as he swooped her up again.
You are all I long for/all I worship and adore…
They would fit perfectly making love. He was sure she must be thinking the same thing as the erection he was holding off made a resurgence, just as the song ended.
“That was nice. Thanks.” She pulled away and shut Sinatra off before he went on to his next number. “But I should get to work.”
She went over to the sink, pouring some coffee and taking a sip before setting it down to spoon nondairy creamer in her cup. During the workday, she had been a little jumpy around him. But now, in her flimsy nightclothes, when she should be on guard, wary of how she would look to a guy, to him, she seemed oblivious.
He didn’t think of Dickhead and his threats. He didn’t think of anti-piracy. He didn’t even think of Julie.
His only thought was for this girl who fit so well in his arms.
He stood behind her, with no more than a breath of air between her back and his front, and she could not fail to hear his uneven breathing. She set the spoon down slowly and turned to face him, which was even more dangerous now that they weren’t dancing, and made him even more sure of what he wanted to do here.
“What is it?”
Carefully, slowly, he ran his thumb along her delicate collarbone, her skin satiny smooth.
“You’re very beautiful,” he whispered, “and very sweet and if I’d been at that bar tonight I wouldn’t have let you out of my sight.”
She said nothing, but her lush mouth opened, almost of its own volition. A surprised little oh, and he wanted nothing more than to fill it with his own tongue.
When he leaned in to kiss her, he started out light, afraid she’d stop him. Afraid she wouldn’t. And the taste of her, coffee flavored from the brew she lived on but with her own special taste as well, inspired him to further boldness. He wrapped his hand around the curve of her neck and pulled her full into the kiss.
She moaned, kissing him back, sparking a surge of excitement through his whole body, her tongue touching his, her hand drifting around to his back, rubbing lightly. His cock snapped to full aching attention and he gripped her hips to pull her in to the circle of his arms, intending to pick her up and set her on the sink, to open her legs.
She turned her face away from the kiss and let out a shaky laugh. “Wait. Hold on.”
He laughed too, though, fuck, he did not feel like laughing. “Ah, sorry. I guess I was going too fast.”
“When I said I wasn’t good with guys”—she sounded breathless—“I didn’t mean you had to make me feel better about that, too. Come on, you already did your duty with the dance.”
He let out an exasperated sigh and his hands slid to her rounded ass and held her against him, his cock jamming into her, so she couldn’t miss the evidence. “Feel that? You can’t seriously doubt how sexy you are, Liv. I’m not trying to make you feel better.”
She wiggled a little, as if verifying his undeniable desire, and he groaned at the shot of pleasure that went through him, his balls tightening.
“Well, I am trying to make you feel better,” he amended, “but I’m trying to make myself feel better too. Jesus….”
“But still, I’m not sure we should, ah,”—her voice was whispery but she didn’t pull away—“get carried away since it would, ah, be awkward around here afterward.”
“You’re right. I quit.” It was a stupid thing to say. He hadn’t found what he was looking for yet. He still needed this cover.
But at that very second, he didn’t care.
Slipping his hand underneath the thin shirt she wore, along the warm skin of her stomach and farther up, he closed his palm over her soft, full breast and squeezed, watching her lashes drift down, and she let out a sexy little cry and arched into him.
“You like that, don’t you? I like it too.”
He shoved his thigh between her legs and took her lips again, plunging his tongue into her mouth, like he wanted to plunge his cock inside her right now. He couldn’t get enough of the taste of her, the feel of her. Groping behind them, he lifted her up to perch on the counter and she went with a startled little gasp as he pulled her shirt up and brought his mouth to one pink-tipped breast, closing over it while her fingers flitted through his hair. Licking, nipping, sucking, her flesh was sweet and warm and he touched her all over, down the sides of her thighs, her rounded ass. His cock throbbing, he found his way beneath the drawstring, rubbing the silky skin of her lower abdomen with the heel of his palm, lower, lower until he felt damp curls and pulled back to smile at her.
“Look at you,” he said softly.
His middle finger circled her clit lightly, where she was engorged and wet, and she gasped as he increased the pressure, her eyes drifting closed, teeth biting the side of her lip, prompting his tongue to flick out to the spot, soothing as he pleasured her below, taking in her soft sighs.
“Mmm, how nice and ready you are for me, Liv.”
He slipped a finger into her, hot heaven, and swirled around, as she gripped it with small, tight internal muscles, bracing her palms behind her. She moved her hips, the heel of his hand rubbing against her clit as he slid his finger in and out, two fingers now, deeper, again and again.
“Come on,” he urged in her ear and her hips moved faster.
“I don’t… It’s not so easy for me to…”
“Shhh.” He nipped her earlobe and her head fell back as with a flush of triumph, he felt her shudder against him, coming.
Her lips were swollen with his kisses and she was panting. But then so was he.
And he wanted more.
...
Liv strained against Jon’s clever fingers, his sure touch as he looked down at her, blue eyes blazing. Her whole body seemed to tremble as she floated down from the high of her orgasm. He petted her slowly, lightly before he pulled his hand out from her pants and deliberately licked his fingers, never breaking eye contact. She thought she would faint with the intensity of it as she sagged back against the wall behind the counter.
“You taste so good.” He was kissing her again as he picked her up and carried her to her office couch. This was all like some crazy daydream fantasy, as he lay her down carefully on the sofa and stood in front of her in the dark, backlit by the overhead in the outer office that had roused her from a half sleep. Maybe she was still groggy with it.
She swallowed hard, sitting up a little, grappling for words, sure she should say something, maybe that they shouldn’t rush into this, but she couldn’t force anything out but a helpless…well, whimper.
He smiled above her in the dark and she realized her mouth was level with his hard on. What would it be like to open his pants, to take him into her mouth? She wanted to taste him.
Before she could act on the impulse, he joined her on the couch, sitting cross wise beside her, leaning over her, his lips brushing hers again. God, she felt drugged with wanting him. He tasted like whiskey. Intoxicating. She gripped his shoulders as if it would help her get her bearings, but he nudged her into lying back down.
After a minute or two of his lips wandering along her cheekbone, her throat, the very edge of her mouth, he whisp
ered, “You see how sexy you are? You see what you do to me?”
He brought her hand to his erection, which felt solid and powerful beneath the fly of his pants, pushing the heel of her palm down hard on him as his skillful mouth went to her ear.
“Do you want to do this?” he murmured.
Not exactly the right question. Of course she wanted to.
But for a second, she came back to herself. As hot as this all was, she had never been one for mindless hook-ups, not even in college. And she worked with this guy. What was she doing?
Then his hand grazed her breast, a light, almost-nothing touch with the back of his fingers that nonetheless sent a jolt of pleasure through her. He bent to kiss her neck as his large hand cupped her breast fully, and the combination of all this attention, her body still sensitive from her recent orgasm, was like the neck-rub this morning, only like the atomic, nuclear blast version of it. She didn’t know just kissing, petting, fingering, could be this good, and the hard feel of him beneath her hand assured her he felt the same. Her breath was light and rapid and she could feel the tingling again between her thighs as much as she could the pulsing of his cock beneath the material.
He used his other hand so that he was fondling both breasts, her nipples hard and throbbing as he flicked them with his thumbs through the braless t-shirt, and took her lips again, biting lightly, making her moan before he quieted her completely with a long, thorough kiss.
In the throes of it, she thought her decision had been made. So she was grateful, and simultaneously annoyed, when he pulled back, dropping his hands from her, and let her catch her breath.
“I don’t want to misinterpret, Liv, and I don’t want you to misinterpret. I want to,” he hesitated and in the faint light she took in his heightened color, his blue eyes almost black, his lips wet from kissing her, “fuck you.”
Her stomach jumped at the crude word.
“Right now. Are you ready for that? Okay with it?”
She drew in a shaky breath and dipped her hand inside the crotch of his pants, the blast of heat from his throbbing cock exciting her unbearably as she wrapped a hand around his erection and he jerked in her grip.
Tempting the Corporate Spy Page 5
