Her composure cracked when she turned and saw the Rolls parked directly in front of the glass doors. Nathan wasn’t working on his laptop or making calls on his cell phone. He was leaning against the big car dressed in one of his perfectly tailored dark suits, his arms folded across his chest, his long legs crossed at the ankles, as he scanned the stream of people leaving the building.
She stopped as a shiver of nerves slithered up her spine. Whatever was going on between them was intensifying faster than she was prepared for.
Shifting her bag to her other shoulder, she started forward again, knowing she was walking toward something no longer under her control.
The autumn wind sent a chill through her as she stepped out of the revolving door. Nathan straightened away from the car and met her in the middle of the sidewalk, sliding his hand under her blazer to the small of her back. He bent his head to murmur beside her ear, “To avoid shocking innocent bystanders, I’m not going to touch you any more than this until we’re in the car.”
“You have more self-control than I do.” She thought she might come just from the heat of his palm radiating through the thin fabric of her blouse. His breath rasped noticeably, and she felt a smug smile curl her lips.
He marched her to the Rolls, swinging open the door and offering his hand to her. She appreciated the steely support of his arm as she climbed into the dark interior, always conscious that an awkward position could reveal more to the public than she wanted to share. Sliding across the seams of the leather seat pushed her arousal up another notch.
Nathan settled on the seat beside her, his weight tilting her against his side as he pulled the car door closed. With a heavy, expensive thunk, they were shut away from the cold wind, the blare of horns, and the seething crowd. The opaque privacy screen between them and the driver was already raised—enclosing them in a warm, intimate cocoon of burnished leather, plush carpeting, and windows tinted nearly black.
“Chloe,” Nathan said as the car began to move, and then his hands were in her hair and he was tilting her mouth to his, devouring her as though she were a gourmet feast and he hadn’t eaten in weeks. He kissed her jaw, her temples, her eyebrows, her throat, and her eyelids.
She slid her hands under his suit jacket so she could feel the power of his muscles and the pulse of his heart against her palms. Then his hands were on her waist and he lifted her onto his lap, facing him. Her straight skirt rode halfway up her thighs as she straddled him, her knees resting on the seat. She didn’t dare sit down because she was so wet he might feel it through the expensive fabric of his trousers.
He raised no objections to her position as he shoved her blazer down and off before his fingers went to the buttons of her blouse. She reached beneath his arms to work his tie loose from its neat knot and rip it out of his shirt collar with a hiss of silk on cotton. He slid his fingers under her bra straps, the first touch of his skin against her bare shoulders making her suck in her breath with a hiss. Then he yanked the straps down along with her blouse so her breasts were bared. Suddenly, she was aware of the people walking just a few feet from the car. Even through the darkened glass, she could see their indistinct faces.
She started to bring her arms up to cover herself, but his hands were already at her breasts, massaging them and pressing against her peaked nipples.
“They can’t see in.” He’d noticed her moment of self-consciousness. “From outside, the windows are a solid black.” He pinched one nipple gently between his thumb and forefinger, sending a streak of electric pleasure directly to the yearning spot between her legs.
She grabbed his shoulders just in time to keep herself from arching so far back that she fell off the seat.
“It’s a safety precaution to prevent kidnapping attempts,” he said, doing the same to her other nipple, making her dig her fingers hard into his nearly unyielding muscles as she bowed back again. “If they can’t tell who’s inside the car, and how many, they’re less likely to attack. The glass and the privacy screen are bulletproof too.”
He stopped talking and took her now-sensitized nipple into the heat and wet of his mouth, using the slight roughness of his tongue to make her whimper with need. When he released it, the longing low in her belly intensified, and she needed pressure against it. Forgetting all about how she might stain his custom-made suit, she bent her knees and ground against the deliciously solid surface of his thigh.
His head was level with her own, and she let go of his shoulders to thread her fingers into the thick waves of his hair before she brought her mouth to his to feel that clever tongue against hers. While they explored each other’s mouths, his thumbs circled her nipples and she rotated her hips against his thigh in the same wild rhythm.
He dropped his hands to skim up the outside of her thighs, pushing the fabric of her skirt upward until his fingers hit bare skin where her panties should have been. He pulled away from their kiss and shoved her skirt up to her waist. As he looked down between them, his eyes went incandescent. “You got into my car without panties.” Sliding one finger inside the slickness of her, he smiled—a feral, tooth-baring expression of pure arousal. “And you’re ready.”
Pushing a button on the overhead control panel, he lifted her off his lap onto the cushion next to him. The seat facing them slid forward and unfolded to make a wider surface. “We’ll be more comfortable there,” he said.
Her knees were shaky from kneeling over his lap, so she put her palms on the edge of the opposite seat and crawled onto it.
“Stay like that.” His voice came from behind her.
She realized her skirt was still up around her waist, so she was completely exposed to him. For a moment she felt uneasy, but then she heard the quiet hiss of a zipper and the tearing sound of foil. The thought of him entering her from behind made her eyelids close as she sucked in a deep breath.
“Do you trust me?” he asked.
“I want you,” she said, sinking down onto her elbows to show him how much. It was a breathtakingly vulnerable position, and she waited with nervous anticipation to feel what he would do.
For a long moment, nothing happened and she started to shift. “Please,” he said, “let me just look at you. Once I touch you, I won’t last long.”
And then his hands were stroking along the curve of her buttocks, his fingers slipping inside her, his thumb pressing on the center of all sensation. She bowed her back downward, her cheek against the leather seat, and moaned as the exquisite shock of his touch reverberated through her, driving her to the edge of orgasm.
His fingers slid out of her and he took hold of her hips, lifting and angling them higher. She waited for a breathless moment, anticipating what was coming next, and then he was inside her, the sides of his suit jacket brushing against her thighs as he moved deep and hard.
One thrust was all it took to set off the convulsive explosion of her climax. She arched again as muscles clenched and released, sending delirious pleasure spinning through her. She turned her mouth into the leather to muffle the sounds wrenching themselves from her throat.
He’d gone still, letting her feel him filling her so she could savor her own finish. She could feel the effort it cost him by the bruising grip of his fingers on her hips. As the ripples of afterglow slowly diminished, he moved again, taking a long, slow stroke out and in, then holding himself there again as he let out a low, carnal “Ahh.” Now she could feel his muscles quivering as he fought to delay his own satisfaction.
His control broke and he began to move in a fast, primitive rhythm that made her pant as it built another coil of tension inside her. He seated himself deep within her and shouted her name as he pumped out his release, his hold on her nearly punishing.
She ground back against him, trying to reach the second orgasm he’d pushed her to. He slid his hand around and between her legs, flicking exactly the right spot to send her screaming over the edge.
She collapsed onto the seat, her bones melted by the double explosion. She heard a rus
tle of clothing and then he rolled her so he was lying beside her on the extended seat, his breath whistling past her ear, his arm wrapped around her waist to press her back against his chest. He crooked his knee behind hers so their thighs nested together.
She was shaken by how vulnerable she’d made herself to him without a qualm. This was dangerous territory because it involved more than just her body. She had given him her trust.
“Hello,” he said, his voice rumbling near her ear.
She couldn’t help smiling. “Aren’t we beyond that?”
“We’re back to that. Your missing panties robbed me of coherent speech.”
“You have very eloquent hands . . . and other body parts.”
“I’m trying to decide if I want to know if you took them off before or after the interview.”
Chloe was enjoying her unexpected role of femme fatale. “I—”
“Don’t tell me,” he broke in. “I can enjoy the fantasy without wanting to kill the fellow who interviewed you.”
“How do you know it wasn’t a woman?”
“Now that’s an interesting thought.” His tone was rich with innuendo.
“You too with the lesbian fantasies?” Chloe lightly smacked his arm.
He retaliated by nipping her earlobe, which sent a little arrow of heat zinging down between her legs. “They’re only fantasies, darling. I don’t share, even with other women.”
The heat blossomed at the raw possessiveness of his statement. And the darling.
His grip on her tightened. “How did the interview go?”
The question jolted her out of the delicious haze of sensual satisfaction she’d been drifting in. She became aware that she was lying on a car seat half-nude in broad daylight, wrapped in the arms of a fully clothed man whom she’d known for less than a week. “It went pretty well. I’m the last candidate they’re talking to, so the decision should be made quickly.”
She must have made a subtle shift away from him because Nathan’s hold on her waist became like steel.
“What kind of position is it?”
She repeated what Judith and her interviewer had told her. As she talked, she realized how dismal the position sounded; all it promised was a good salary and benefits and a way to avoid working for Larry Clarke. She’d accept the job if it was offered to her, but she would be bored. “I’d rather talk about what’s going on with the Prometheus project. Have you been back to help them?”
Now Nathan shifted. “I checked in on the team this afternoon between meetings.”
She heard the longing in his voice. “And you wanted to blow off the meetings and stay to work on it.”
“There was some temptation.”
After his reaction to her going commando, Chloe felt brave. “Send one of your dozens of executive VPs to the meetings. That’s why you have them.”
“The meetings are my responsibility.” His response was clipped.
“So is Prometheus.”
“I have to let my R and D staff do their jobs.”
“Why do you act as though working on Prometheus is some kind of guilty pleasure you should deny yourself? You would be doing your staff a favor by working on it.”
The silence was filled with the muffled hum of the Rolls’s engine and the occasional thump as they hit a pothole even the car’s weight and suspension couldn’t compensate for. Then he skimmed his hand up from her waist to cup her breast. “Speaking of pleasure,” he said, “we should have time for at least one more.”
He flipped over, bringing her with him so she was sprawled on her back on top of him, open to the exquisite invasion of his roving hands. Before the Rolls took the exit ramp off the Garden State Parkway, they’d managed two more pleasures.
As she felt the car slow down, Chloe untangled herself from Nathan’s arms and legs. “We’re getting close to my house. I’ve got to get dressed.”
Nathan helped her sit up and retrieved her blouse, bra, and blazer from the carpeted floor before shifting to the seat opposite her. “I’ll watch,” he said, handing her the crumpled pile of clothing. Without taking his eyes off her, he shrugged into his own shirt and began to button it.
After what they’d just done, it seemed ridiculous to feel self-conscious about having him see her dress, but it marked the transition from lovers to . . . whatever they were. She half turned away from him as she slipped into her bra and fastened it before pulling on her blouse. Her skirt was still bunched up around her waist, so she squirmed to pull it back down to her knees. Now she had to get her panties out of her handbag and find a graceful way to put them back on.
“You can leave them off.” Nathan’s voice made her turn on the seat. His eyes held a wicked glint. “I won’t tell anyone.”
The waves of his hair were rumpled from being tangled with her fingers, and although his shirt was tucked in, he hadn’t bothered to put his jacket or tie back on. He looked completely at ease, while she felt like a wrinkled, rumpled, deliciously used mess. “It’s bad enough that I have to face Grandmillie knowing what we’ve just done. I’m not doing it without underwear.”
He crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes still gleaming. “More entertainment for me.”
Torn between amusement and irritation, she pulled the panties from her purse and bent over to get them over her feet and up to her knees. She faced the fact that she was going to have to pull her skirt back up to get the lace where it belonged.
“Now for the good part,” Nathan said.
“You’re not helping.”
He leaned forward. “Would you like me to?”
She shot him a glare. He went back to his lounging but lowered his gaze to the white lace circling her knees.
She planted her feet on the floor, closed her eyes, and arched up off the leather seat as she yanked her skirt and panties up at the same time.
“Slow down.” Nathan’s voice held both humor and arousal. “I’m enjoying the view.”
Chloe pulled her skirt back down. “You’re enjoying bothering me.”
“You bother me just by sitting there.”
The intensity in his voice restoked the heat between her thighs. She hid her reaction by rummaging in her handbag again. When she pulled out a brush and lipstick, Nathan pushed a button. A mirrored panel dropped down from the ceiling. One glance and Chloe went into high-speed repair mode.
Nathan gave a loud sigh.
“What?” Chloe looked away from the mirror.
“You’ve lost that I-just-had-sex-in-a-car look.”
“Then my job here is done.” She dropped the brush and makeup into her purse and shrugged into her blazer.
He pushed the mirror back up before he reached across the space between them to pull her onto the seat beside him. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and bent to imprint a hot kiss on the side of her neck before he murmured. “I’ll pick you up after work tomorrow and we’ll go shopping.”
She stiffened as he reminded her of the upcoming ordeal of his father’s wedding. She’d managed to shove that to the back of her mind.
“You agreed to accept my gift of clothing,” he said, misinterpreting her tension.
“I know.” That wasn’t the problem. “I’d like to go to Saks Fifth Avenue.”
She felt him shake his head. “I have a personal shopper coming to my home with a selection of whatever she thinks you’ll need for the wedding.”
The closet in his guest room flitted through her mind. All designer clothes. All expensive beyond belief. “I’d rather go to Saks.”
“Fine.”
Surprised by his easy capitulation, she tilted her head to look up at him. “Fine?”
He returned her gaze with a raised eyebrow. “She’ll bring the clothes to Saks.” Then he kissed her, long and deep, until she clutched at his lapel to pull herself in closer. She felt the warmth of his palm on her thigh as he slipped his hand under her skirt.
The car stopped and Oskar’s voice came through the intercom, announcing they were
at Ms. Russell’s home. Nathan cursed softly.
Chloe felt a zing of satisfaction that his attempt to distract her from the shopping issue had been more successful at frustrating him. “Language,” she said, laying a finger across his lips.
“But I need time to do this,” he said, moving his hand farther up her thigh until his fingers just brushed at the lace between her legs. He found a way under the panties and slid one finger inside her, making her throw back her head. He flexed it once and withdrew, the friction sending exquisite heat curling through her. Locking his gaze on her, he licked his finger.
She was going to have to face Grandmillie with the image of Nathan tasting her seared into her brain. “I’ll get you back for that tomorrow,” she said, giving him a nudge since his long body was between her and the door.
“Retaliation can lead to escalation.” He reached up to hit some sort of release before opening the door and unfolding himself out of the car. Turning, he held her hand to help her out of the car, his gray eyes lit with desire and a touch of mischief. “I look forward to it.”
“Good evening, Chloe.” Grandmillie’s voice was like a bucket of cold water on the bonfire Nathan had lit.
Chloe spun away from him to see her grandmother standing on the front porch, the door open behind her. “Bring your young man inside for a minute.” Grandmillie gripped the head of her cane with both hands. “I’ve baked scones.”
Chloe turned back in time to see Nathan rake his fingers through his disheveled hair and yank his shirt collar higher. As satisfying as it was to find that he was not immune to Grandmillie’s tone of authority, Chloe didn’t want him in the house, invading her world.
“You don’t have to come,” Chloe said in a low murmur. “Say you have business to get back to.”
Nathan looked down at her. “But I want to meet your grandmother.”
The CEO Buys in (Wager of Hearts #1) Page 20
