Desk Job (London Menage Book 2)

by Lily Harlem

  “Fucking hell. I’m sorry, I…”

  “Don’t be sorry.” I was breathless, it was hard to inflate my lungs.

  “But, I … went fast, at the end there. I couldn’t help it.”

  “You gave me … what I wanted.” I squirmed. “Can’t … breathe.”

  “Sorry, fuck, I’m sorry.” He lifted and withdrew.

  My ass closed, still pulsing gently from my orgasm.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, urging me onto my side to face him.

  “Of course I’m sure. I wanted to come, feeling you in my ass, feeling you come too.”

  “Phew, I was worried. I didn’t want to—”

  “You didn’t hurt me, that was amazing.” I touched his cheek. “You were very gentle, thank you.”

  “Thank you for trusting me with that. I feel honored.”

  I smiled, “What, to have taken my anal virginity?”

  “Yes.” He glanced at my breasts and then scooped the underside of the right one into his palm. “Very honored.”

  “But it wasn’t your first time?” The question popped out of my mouth before I had time to think whether or not I wanted the answer to it.

  “What makes you think that?” He narrowed his eyes.

  I shrugged. “You were married.”

  “I was, unsuccessfully.” He paused. “And for the record, that was my first time. Which was why I was worried about hurting you.” He paused. “I haven’t done that before either.”

  I stared at him, allowed myself to fall into the softness of his eyes. What we’d just done, shared, was so special. I hadn’t thought of it before, it had been a new idea. But damn I was glad we’d done it. Now we had a special something to bind us together.

  “That’s makes me happy,” I said as small tears threatened.

  “You make me happy.” He brushed his lips over mine.

  “And when Tristan is here…” I paused. “Will he?”

  “I don’t know about his sexual history, Stella. If he’s had anal sex before of even wants to. That’s between you two.”

  “I didn’t mean that.”

  “What then?” He flicked his thumb over my tight nipple. The action seemed to shoot straight to my clit.

  “I mean are you sure he’ll want to fuck me at the same time as you do that? Be that close to you, inside me at the same time.”

  “No, I’m not sure. If it’s something you want, you’ll have to ask him.”

  “But you want it?”

  He hesitated then, “I can’t think of a better way to seal the deal of us being a threesome.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  The next day flew past. Andre and I had our heads down working non-stop. He mentioned a meal out again, but I was tired and told him I needed a good night’s sleep. Plus, I wanted to spend time with Lullabelle and just slob out on the sofa with a tub of ice cream in my pajamas.

  He understood and assured me we’d have time together later in the week.

  It suited me fine.

  I was just wishing Tristan would make contact when my phone beeped. I lifted it from my desk and hit read:

  Hey gorgeous. How is your week going? I miss you. T X

  I smiled. I missed him too. I was looking forward to his Berlin trip coming to an end.

  I miss you too. X

  He responded quickly.

  I’m at the airport. The meeting tomorrow was cancelled. CEO had a family emergency and I managed to rearrange an earlier flight. Boarding in one hour.

  A burst of delight went through me. Tristan was on his way back to London tonight. I didn’t think I’d see him until the weekend, and with Andre out of the office the next day, I’d anticipated being alone. Well not alone, not really, but without my men.

  Safe flight. I’ll see you tomorrow. X

  I flicked off my computer and stood.

  You will and then I’ll show you how much I’ve missed you!

  I smiled as a shiver of desire and anticipation went through me. The thought of Tristan showing me how much he’d missed me was very appealing.

  “Stella,” Andre called from his office.

  “Yes?” I stepped up to the door.

  He stood from his desk. His tie was askew and his hair sticking up from where he’d been running his hand through it as he’d studied some new images from the art department. “Shut the door please.”

  I did as he’d asked, then turned to him.

  A sudden wave of concern went through me. He was tired, I could see it in his eyes. Perhaps I should persuade him to leave now, with me. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes. Just still lots to do.”

  “Perhaps you should call it a day. Tristan has had a change of plan, he’s back tomorrow, he could look at these.”

  He stepped up to me, his usual soft smile in place despite his exhaustion. “No, this is my account, up to me. But I’m glad he’s coming back, I’ve got a few things to sign off with him.”

  I stepped close and touched his cheek. “You’ve done enough for one day.”

  “I haven’t.” He shook his head. “I’ve got another couple of hours to do.”

  “And what about eating and having some time to yourself?”

  “I’ll grab something easy when I get home.”

  “Are you sure?” He’d said he was concerned about Tristan making himself ill, but right now he looked pale and had shadows under his eyes.

  “Don’t worry,” he said. “I’m fine, honestly. This is usual proceedings around here.”

  “Mmm…” I had plans on changing that but one step at a time. Rome wasn’t built in a day and neither would I change Andre and Tristan’s workaholic ways in a few weeks. I didn’t want them to lose their passion and drive, or their commitment to their fabulous business, but I did want them to see more of life than the office, airports and conference rooms.

  “What does Mmm mean?” he asked.

  “It means don’t work too late. If you start seeing double, go home.”

  “I will.” He leaned forward and kissed me, just lightly.

  I pressed closer, wanting more, the way I always did.

  “No.” He shook his head and held the tops of my arms. “Not here. Not yet. One day, but…”

  “Okay. I understand.” Against everything in my body that cried out for his, I stepped back. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “No, I have an appointment at the bank in the morning, and then I’m over at Canary Warf in the afternoon.”

  “Oh yes, of course.”

  “But you’ll see Tristan now that’s he’s on his way back.” He smiled. “Won’t you?”

  “Yes. That will be nice.” I turned and walked to the door. If I stayed much longer, I feared I’d insist that he stop work and come home with me. And that wasn’t what Andre needed. He needed to get the jobs done he’d set for himself, then, and only then, would he relax.

  I slept well. A deep dreamless sleep that re-charged my batteries after all the sex and emotional excitement of the last week or so.

  As I dressed for work the next morning, I found myself taking extra care to pick something Tristan would approve of.

  They both enjoyed my curves so something that showed off my small waist and the flare of my hips was a must. But Tristan seemed to particularly like my feet—my shoes—and I recalled the time he’d stroked the top of my stockings.

  Noticing that the weather was pleasant, the sky a clear blue, I picked out a pink dress with a floaty skirt, and teamed it with a lemon-colored cardigan to match the bow on the pink sandals I’d chosen. The look was beyond girly and a bit Sandra Dee but I loved it. With my hair blow-dried so it hung in big bubbles over my shoulders, an extra sweep of eyeliner and sheer white holdups, I felt ready to face the day and see the man I’d missed for the first half of the week.

  Tristan wasn’t in the office when I arrived and I couldn’t deny a pang of disappointment, I’d been counting the minutes until I saw him.

  I made coffee, alone, I
was the first person there, then sat at my desk. I pulled out my phone and fired off a text to Andre:

  Hope you weren’t at it until too late last night X

  He replied quickly.

  Finished before midnight. Just heading out the door now. Love you x

  I read it twice, my heart rate picking up.

  Love you! He’d written love you. Was it true? Did he love me? Or was it just the type of thing that a person added to a text—a text to their girlfriend, the woman in their life.

  And if he loved me, did I love him?

  There was definitely something more than physical attraction. I cared, a lot. I needed him, wanted him. He made me smile, brightened my day. The thought of him not being around made me feel physically sick.

  Yes. I loved him too.

  I took a sip of coffee, that new knowledge adding buoyancy to my mood.

  Love.

  “Hey gorgeous.”

  I looked up to see Tristan striding toward me, his black suit jacket open and flapping as he walked and his pants pressing against his thighs. He wasn’t smiling, he had a deadly serious look on his face.

  My heart sped up some more. Damn, how much hotness could I take in my life before my heart gave out?

  He dumped his bag on my desk.

  He reached for my hands and pulled me to standing.

  Next thing I knew, his mouth was on mine, his tongue probing, and he was sliding his hands over my ass.

  I melted against him. The power of his embrace and passion made me dizzy. I loved being in his arms, being kissed and held by him.

  I love Tristan too.

  “Tristan,” I gasped, gripping his shirt. “I—”

  “I missed you. I’m so glad that damn meeting was cancelled.” He squeezed me closer, the length of his body pressing into mine.

  I stared up into his eyes. His pupils were wide, brimming with need.

  I was sure they matched mine.

  “You look amazing,” he said, “you always do.”

  “Not so bad yourself.”

  He huffed then pushed his groin against my belly.

  “Mr. Wainwright,” I said. “Not very professional to have an erection in the office now, is it?”

  “There’s no one else here. Besides, it’s what you do to me.”

  I glanced at the corridor that led to the lift. We wouldn’t be alone for long. I could guarantee that any minute James or Jenny or someone from accounts would amble into the office and catch me being all but devoured by the scary boss.

  “Stella.” He turned my face to his.

  “What?”

  Suddenly the lift pinged. Someone had arrived, as I’d predicted.

  I pushed him away and quickly rearranged my cardigan.

  He frowned and made no attempt to hide the bulge in his suit pants.

  “Tristan,” I said, picking up his briefcase and shoving it his way. I was a little energetic and bumped it against his cock through the material.

  “Ah, fuck,” he said, screwing up his face and hunching slightly.

  “Shit, sorry.” I grimaced.

  “Hi Stella,” Jenny called as she came into view.

  As soon as she saw Tristan, her step faltered. “Er, good morning, Mr. Wainwright.”

  “Jenny,” he said gruffly, then pulled in a deep breath.

  “I’ll … bring you a coffee,” I said to him. “Go and sit down.”

  Oh dear, I did feel bad as he walked away, a little stiffly.

  There was only one thing for it, I’d have to make it up to him.

  “Everything okay, Stella?” Jenny asked, also watching Tristan.

  He shut his office door.

  I sighed and started to walk to the kitchen. “Yes. Fine.”

  “Is he being a dick?”

  “No.” I shook my head. “Not at all.”

  “He can be. When he’s all stressed and snippy.”

  “Snippy? How is he snippy?”

  “You know. Short, sharp, abrasive, hardly time to speak or acknowledge people exist.”

  I suppressed a smile. I had no problem getting Tristan’s attention and it seemed he was well aware that I existed.

  “He’s fine,” I said. “He’s just got a lot to get on top of today.”

  Including me later if I’m lucky.

  Again I held back a smile.

  “Yes, well, that’s when he’s worse, when he’s got a to-do list as long as his arm.”

  I nodded at the kitchen. “Do you want a coffee?”

  “I’d kill for one.” She sighed dramatically. “It was a late night. Billy was on one of his rants about the club. It’s not going well.”

  “Oh, why is that?” I was happy to change the subject.

  “This and that. Money, fights, sponsors, security. More hassle than it’s worth, this club.”

  It sounded like the loser boyfriend was more hassle than he was worth, but I kept that thought to myself as I set about putting the kettle on, then spooning coffee granules into mugs.

  When I took Tristan’s coffee in, he was at his laptop, his face lit by the screen.

  “Here,” I said, placing the mug down on his desk.

  “Thanks.” He looked up.

  “You okay? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

  “I’m fine.” He smiled.

  It was one of his panty-melting smiles that did crazy things to my stomach and my internal muscles. “Good. I wouldn’t want to cause any permanent damage. That wouldn’t be in my best interest.”

  “No permanent damage and I’ll prove that to you later.”

  I bit on my bottom lip. I wanted to tell him to prove it now. Lock his door, bend me over the desk, fuck me so hard that I had no doubt how much he wanted me and how fine he was.

  “Go,” he said, his eyebrows pulling low. “Before I do something inappropriate in the office.”

  I turned, quickly, because I knew damn well if he started something inappropriate I’d go along with the crazy plan.

  And Andre would not be happy if he found out about it.

  But as I walked to the door, Tristan’s attention more than likely on the sway of my hips, I found it increasingly hard to walk away.

  One foot in front of the other, one foot in front of the other.

  Keep going.

  I found myself seated safely at my desk and spread my fingers over the keyboard. My blood was pumping, my head a little light. How the hell did Tristan do that to me? Have me ready to throw caution to the wind and get naked and dirty with one suggestive remark, a look, and the tilt of his lips in a seductive smile?

  I pulled in a deep breath and was glad of the distraction of other members of the team walking past and saying good morning.

  Yes, it was morning, then it would be afternoon, and then Tristan and I could sneak away, back to his place, or mine, and make up for being apart.

  Until then I had a pile of reports to type up, several phone calls to make, and a dozen emails with urgent flags.

  After about an hour, Tristan shut his door. I wasn’t sure if it was because he didn’t want to be disturbed or if he were planning on making phone calls to clients. It didn’t matter. It was something he often did, almost as if to be the antithesis of Andre’s open door policy.

  One thing was for sure, I didn’t have to fend off eager colleagues who wanted to spend time with him. His no nonsense approach to office culture certainly worked when it came to giving him time and space without being disturbed.

  Lunchtime arrived and I headed down to the Subway in search of food. I decided to pick Tristan up a ham and cheese, no pickles or extras, baguette. I’d taken Andre one the other day, it seemed only fair.

  Heading back up in the elevator, I smiled at my good fortune. Life had turned a complete circle in weeks. It seemed it had for Sian too. The sooner we got together to hash all of this out the better. Our normal had become other people’s abnormal yet it felt so right.

  I placed the chicken salad sub I’d treated myself to on my desk
, then knocked on Tristan’s door.

  “Come in.”

  I stepped in and shut the door behind myself. “I brought you lunch.”

  “You’re too good to me.”

  “I don’t know how you can say that after earlier.” I smiled sheepishly.

  He frowned. “Earlier? Ah … yes…” His expression softened. He glanced at the Subway. “That looks nice.”

  “Are you hungry?”

  “Starving.” He stood and walked toward me. I thought I might get a quick kiss as he took the sub, but he strode right past me.

  I heard a quiet click.

  He’d locked the door.

  “Tristan?”

  In three big paces he was in front of me. “I’m not hungry for food, though.”

  His mouth hit down on mine—a fast, furious, ravenous kiss that took my breath away.

  The sub fell to the floor. I clung to him, swept up in his passion.

  He pulled me close, maneuvered me toward the desk until my ass hit it.

  “All fucking week,” he said, “I’ve been thinking of you, of being with you, hearing you come.” He slid his hand up my leg, wrinkling my dress. “Then I see you in this, looking like every wish and dream I’ve ever had all wrapped up in the prettiest package. And fuck…” He paused and looked down. “White fucking stockings too. I’m done. I’m gone. You’ve got me unraveled woman.”

  Again his kiss was frantic, as though he couldn’t taste enough of me, get close enough to me.

  I ran my fingers into his hair, kissed him back with the same passion he was injecting into kissing me.

  He found the juncture of my thighs and pressed his fingers over my pussy.

  I was wet and throbbing for him. It was hard to catch my breath. Tristan was all I saw and felt, the rest of the world faded.

  “Like this.” He lifted me onto the desk, my butt landing on some files and a pen.

  “But … we shouldn’t, not here.”

  “Says who?” He gave me a look that said no one told Tristan Wainwright what to do.

  “Andre.”

  “Andre’s not here. We are.” He pulled my knickers aside, sought my entrance and pushed in.

  “Oh, fuck, Tristan.” I panted as he pushed higher still then withdrew and repeated the action. The heel of his hand caught on my clit. “Oh God, yeah…”