He raised his mouth for a brief second and she held her breath, feeling two long fingers sink into her, pushing against the walls of her vagina, adding to the impossible pleasure, as he muttered, “And I’m going to fuck you so hard after you come.”
She was too far gone to object to the raw word, as he bent his head to the task again. It felt like something more this time anyway. With his fingers inside her, pressing her, teasing her, and his mouth hot on her clit, he brought her to a screaming orgasm, though she stayed completely silent as it washed over her, mystified as to how he could have this power over her.
He picked her up and laid her on the bed and, boneless, replete with satisfaction, she watched him remove his clothes.
“I don’t know why I can’t seem to do anything but keep chasing after you. I’m not solving anything. I just keep making love to you.”
“I don’t know why I keep wanting you to,” she murmured.
Naked, he rested one knee on the bed and, brooking no opposition, she brought her mouth to him, reciprocating his attentions. Huge and throbbing, his cock filled her mouth, as much as she could take, watching his wince from pleasure as she took him in, inch by inch, his hands fisting in her hair as she pulled back her mouth, licking the tip, tasting the pre-cum.
“Fuck,” he breathed softly.
Out and then in again, long wet strokes and sucking.
“That feels so good.” His head fell forward as she ministered to him, loving the power she was exercising for once. She fondled his taut ass, squeezing, intensifying the pleasure until he seemed helpless to stop himself from thrusting into her mouth roughly, directing her head, low, guttural sounds coming from deep inside his throat as she sucked him off, thrilling her with the animal feel of it.
And then he came, a hot explosive burst of cum that she swallowed, while he arched and moaned with it.
He fell into bed beside her, catching his breath, and she smiled up at the blank white ceiling, folding her hands on her chest.
“I love how you touch me,” she said softly, no barrier between her feelings and her mouth by now. He had chipped away at it with the total rightness of how they were when they were with each other.
Like, with each other.
He laughed, slightly leaning over her to reach by the bedside and extract the condom from his pants that they had forgotten the last time.
“I think the volcanic orgasm I had in your mouth sort of says it all as far as how your touch rates with me.”
She heard a tearing of foil and glanced to see him putting the condom on, completely hard again, despite the taste of him still in her mouth.
“How do you do that?” she asked in awe.
“I don’t do it. You do.” Pulling her beneath him, he smoothed her hair out of her eyes, holding her face in his hands, his long legs between both of hers. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, savoring the incredible heat of him along her body. “I can’t get enough of you. I know I should be coming up with something more original to say, but that’s it. As soon as I’m done with you, I’m drawn right back.”
He slid between her thighs, proving his words, and she sighed while he held himself there. “I barely want to move while I’m in you,” he whispered. “Just fill you, as deep as I can.”
Which was pretty full and pretty deep. Involuntarily she rotated her hips a little at the luscious feel of him and he groaned, pulling out quickly to thrust back in, moving as if he couldn’t help himself. He kissed her cheek, her temple, her nose, as he started a lazy rhythm. “I guess I spoke too soon.”
“Mmmm…” Her heels planted in the mattress and she moved with him, deliberately, testing all the different ways his hardness could meld with her softness and make them both moan with pleasure.
“How long has it been for you? Before me?”
She traced her hands along his spine. “Mmmm…a long time.”
“You’re so sexy.” He moved quicker, as if just saying that excited him further. “What did you do? Did you touch yourself?”
“Mmmm…sometimes…”
He brought her hand between their bodies, to where they were joined. “Show me.”
She hesitated, but the urgent way he said it, one lock of black hair falling over his eyes as he looked down at her, waiting, spurred her on and she put her fingers to her moist clit, rubbing as he moved, holding his weight off her to watch.
“That’s right,” he crooned, “play with yourself while I fuck you. Make yourself come.”
It felt impossibly naughty, circling the sensitive nub, as he slid in and out of her, her own touch light as his thrusts got harder and deeper. She closed her eyes, overwhelmed by the hot sensations crowding in on her all at once, and he ordered, “Open your eyes. Watch…”
Her eyes drifted open to see his intense gaze as she blatantly rubbed herself at his direction, legs spread wide open to him so he could fill her, again and again, his steely cock hot and aggressive.
“Oh, yeah, see how good you make yourself feel.” He pumped faster and her fingers moved in time to the increased rhythm.
“You make me feel good,” she whispered, until it was too much to take and she came apart, shattering. He gathered her close, gripping her ass to tilt her up to him as he ground himself into her with a hoarse groan.
The move to snuggle afterward should not have come so naturally to her. Her few past sexual encounters were awkward, brief affairs where she and her partner got up from bed and went back to work or the library, hurriedly, neither of them fully satisfied with the encounter. Or she knew she hadn’t been.
But she was satisfied right now. So satisfied she couldn’t move much except to accept his arms around her, his gentle kiss in the crook of her neck.
They should probably talk about protecting his sister or protecting her program or…maybe computers in general. Something serious. Something important. But her brain was drained of anything but Jonathon Crestwell and wanting to be with him, to know him.
“Did you really walk into Professor Charnovsky’s Advanced Equations class on the first day of freshman year and correct the proof he had on the board?
He nuzzled her shoulder. “I’m not going to take offense that you’re thinking about moldy old equations when you’re in bed with me. But yes, I did. It was wrong.”
“But he didn’t know that until you reworked it. Man! I got a C in that class.”
“Yeah, so did I. Charnovsky wasn’t too happy with show-offs.”
“You are so…brilliant,” she whispered, and he nipped her ear lobe lightly.
“Pot calling kettle black if you ask me.”
She laughed.
“Anyway, I’ve done a lot of stupid stuff in my time,” he said. “Believe me. Life is a lot harder than a mathematical problem on a chalk board.” His warm hand around her waist tightened slightly. “I’m doing a lot of stupid stuff all the time.”
“Why did you drop out of sight, after you sold your company?”
He stiffened behind her.
“You don’t have to tell me,” she said.
“No, that’s okay. No big mystery to it or anything. My mother was sick and, ah, then she died. And you’re right, I don’t get along with my father. Less and less every day,” he muttered. “So it seemed easier to be on my own. I was always pretty much a loner so I just bought a bunch of properties you basically have to helicopter into to get to.”
“I’m sorry about your mom.”
“Thanks. She was really special. I still miss her. Anyway, it was easier to just drop out sort of. I tried to keep in touch with Julie, but she was so young, and well, my dad of course had custody of her. And he did his usual bang-up job, pressuring the poor kid until she was scared of her own shadow.”
“Oh,” she turned toward him, taking his face in her hands. “I’m sorry.”
He rubbed her back lightly and their legs twined together. He leaned close. “You ever taken a helicopter ride?”
The buzzer from the doorman sounded, wak
ing her from a light sleep. It was almost midnight. Jonathon sat up as she turned on a lamp and went to the intercom.
“Yes?”
“There’s a Miss Jennifer Sealy down here to see you.”
She glanced at Jonathon. “Jen? Oh, well, ah send her up.”
She pulled her clothes back on as Jonathon reclaimed the much maligned khakis, looking for his shirt just as a knock sounded.
“Liv, open up!”
She went to the door, finding Jen uncharacteristically disheveled, makeup-free even, in sweats of all things as she launched herself at Liv and gave her a big hug.
“Jen? What is it? What’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong?” She pulled back. “What’s wrong is I’ve been calling you for hours and you haven’t picked up! I thought probably you just let your phone go dead—you know you forget to charge it—but you weren’t picking up your office phone either and I was worried. So I went back to work after I got home from the club and you weren’t there!”
She said it in a tone akin to “and I found your bloody remains all over your office!”
“No, I was here. Home.”
“Well, I never thought to try you here! God, you’re never here! And you don’t even have a landline here. Why didn’t you answer your cell? I’ve been half out of my mind with worry!”
She looked around absently. “I must have turned it off. I’m sorry.”
Jen spotted Jonathon just as Liv remembered he was there. The apartment wasn’t exactly big enough to try to hide him. Jonathon had managed to pull his pants on, but his shirt was half unbuttoned, his feet bare, and his recent activity abundantly obvious, especially with the unmade bed in the background. Jen froze. And Liv remembered how serious this whole situation was by her friend’s atypical reaction.
Normally, if Jen had found Liv in bed with a gorgeous guy, not that that had happened in recent memory of course, or ever, but if it had, she would have popped a bottle of champagne to commemorate the occasion. She would have teased and patted her friend on the back.
Instead, Jen’s café au lait complexion grew impossibly pale. “What is he doing here?”
She pulled Liv to her side, as if to keep Jonathon at bay, and for a minute, the braids and braces were back in place—Jennifer Sealy protecting her best friend Livvie Altman.
“It’s okay, Jen.”
“It’s not okay. You don’t even know who this guy is, but whoever he is, he’s a snake.”
Liv looked to Jonathon. “It’s, well, it’s more complicated than that. I didn’t have the full story this morning and now that I do, I think a little differently.”
Jonathon didn’t shrink from Jen’s hard gaze. “I’m not going to hurt her, Jen.”
“Miss Sealy to you.” She tugged Liv closer. Then she looked at the open doorway. “What’s your suitcase doing there? You’re not running away with him, are you?”
Liv tried to suppress a smile at the dramatics. “No, Randy scheduled an off-site in the Bahamas. I have a flight first thing tomorrow.”
“Is he going?” she asked with a nod toward Jonathon.
“No. He’s not.”
“Good.” Her voice dropped. “Because we need to talk about this. I don’t think this is a good idea.” She gave a furtive look Jonathon’s way. “As cute as he is, you can do better.”
“I’m certainly not denying that, Miss Sealy. She could do better.”
“That’s what I just said,” she snapped.
Liv put her arms around her friend. “Jen, I love you, you’re sweet to worry about me, but go home. I’ll remember to turn my phone on and Randy’s assistant should have where we are. Okay?”
“Is he staying here tonight?”
Jonathon looked at Liv.
“Yes, he is.”
Jen whipped out her phone and snapped a picture of him. “Fine. But I’m watching you, Mister.”
With a last hug she was gone.
Liv closed the door on Jen and both of them stripped naked again, turning out the light and climbing back into bed, spooning.
“I think she’s warming up to me,” he said and Liv laughed.
After a minute, she offered impulsively, “I have to tell you something else. I don’t know what it means for you, but this trip to the Bahamas, it’s about someone buying the company, Lincoln, to get my program.”
He said nothing.
She glanced back at him over her shoulder. “Do you know what that means?”
“Not a clue.”
“Is there anything I can do? To help your sister, I mean?”
“No, just catch your flight tomorrow morning. Go to your meeting. I have somebody I have to talk to, first thing tomorrow.”
“I could,” she paused, not believing she was saying this, “I could give you the program, if, I mean if it would—”
He kissed her swiftly. “No, no you can’t. It goes against everything you worked for and you’d be throwing away your career if anyone found out. Besides, why the hell should whoever’s behind this get what they want? No, I’m going to figure out who it is. And I swear to God, whoever it is… Whoever it is,” he repeated, “they’re going to pay.”
Chapter Seven
The house was a short ride from the Bahamian airport, right on the beach and barely visible from the street. It was a huge whitewashed structure with cool pink tiles and wicker furniture softened by pale green cushions. When the maid showed her to the back patio, the three men present, all in light pants and short-sleeve shirts, looked up from their frosty drinks. Her straight cotton skirt and silk blouse clung to her damp skin.
“Ah, here she is,” Randy said, giving her a casual kiss on the cheek and ushering her in. The maid had already taken her carry-on luggage.
The other two men on the patio were studies in contrast. She knew which one was Lionel Hershey only from the company’s Annual Report. Seeing him in person, she surmised the photo must have been heavily doctored or else an old picture. His hair was grayer and sparser, his face more heavily lined and sporting a lot more fat on it. In fact, he looked maybe fifty pounds heavier than he had in the Annual Report.
She held out her hand. “Mr. Hershey. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“You too, Olivia. May I call you Liv?”
She nodded.
“Well, it’s a real pleasure. We’ve heard a lot of good things about you.” He pumped her hand and she realized they both had sweaty palms.
“And you’re going to hear a lot more this weekend, I assure you,” Randy piped in heartily.
The third man stood by politely. She didn’t recognize him, as Randy had said she would. But then she didn’t get much time for reading the Wall Street Journal or watching CNBC. So she wasn’t exactly up on her corporate titans. He looked the part, though, much more so than Hershey. This man was tall and slim, with a full head of dark hair, graying at the temples. Very distinguished. Very handsome, even.
“And this,” Randy said, pointing to the man, “is Alexander Raymond, the CEO of Intelis Incorporated.”
She moved forward to shake his hand. At least he seemed cool and collected.
“Pleased to meet you, Miss Altman.”
She had heard of his company, a billion dollar conglomerate that sold everything from computers to cosmetics, but not specifically of him. Accepting the offer of a seat on the patio and a cold drink, she declined the alcoholic ice tea they were drinking in favor of the neutered version and gazed out at the unobstructed view of the ocean, all blue and turquoise and no more than forty feet of white sand away.
“This is lovely,” she said, sipping her ice tea and feeling very much out of her depth.
In the distance, a doorbell rang and a moment later the maid came in to announce, “This gentleman is here to see Miss Altman.” The uneasy sensation escalated into sheer panic when she saw who it was.
Her heart fell as she stood up to the sight of Jonathon, looking uncharacteristically somber behind the maid. Oh my God. She didn’t say it out loud,
but she thought maybe Randy had.
What the hell was going on? They had said goodbye outside her apartment early this morning, her going to her flight, him to “talk to somebody.”
What was he doing here now?
“This is really too much,” Randy muttered, slamming his drink down.
Mr. Raymond stood up. “Jonathon. I must say this is a surprise.” He turned to the rest of them. “Lionel, Randy, Miss Altman, although it sounds like you’re acquainted, may I introduce you to my son?”
...
“Son?”
If Jonathon hadn’t been in such a piss poor mood, he would have enjoyed the complete and utter look of astonishment on that asshole Randy’s ugly mug.
His father came up and patted him heartily on the back, eager as ever to strengthen that bond he kept trying to form between them, no matter the true circumstances.
“How did you know I was in the Bahamas, let alone here? Oh. Don’t tell me, let me guess.” His father turned to the others on the patio and said, “My son is a bit of a snoop. Privacy laws don’t mean a lot to him. He probably hacked into my credit card trail.”
“Don’t get so worked up, Dad. I called your secretary and she told me where you were.”
“I see. Well, what is it, Jonathon? Is something wrong?”
“You tell me.”
His father wrinkled his patrician forehead, a study in confusion. If Jonathon hadn’t been so suspicious at this very moment, he would have said the man didn’t know what he was talking about. Nice to know where his own acting skills had come from.
It started to make a little bit of sense in Jonathon’s mind when he left Liv this morning and tried to contact his father. He thought between the sleep and the sex that he had figured it all out. His father had been the one to approach Jonathon initially about whether he could develop a program to combat piracy on the web. Alexander Raymond wasn’t competent enough to understand how to implement something like that—Jonathon’s scientific and mathematical prowess had come from his mother—and according to his father, Intelis programmers weren’t having any luck with it.
Tempting the Corporate Spy Page 11
