by Lynda Aicher
Her stomach contracted, breath freezing as she took in the desire that scorched her. Every nerve ending was alert and processing the wonder of having both holes filled. She rolled her hips just a fraction, but it was enough to set off a wave of pleasure that reached her toes.
He kissed her with complete abandon, his touch seemingly everywhere, on her breasts, her arms, up her ribs, around her back, and she was the same. She cursed the suit she’d admired before, hungry for the heat of his skin, for the contact that would take this beyond a fuck on a table.
In a boardroom.
With other couples fucking around them.
No. Those things didn’t matter. Not when she had Drake. He was all that mattered. This connection that held her heart and sent her dreams spinning.
She sucked in a breath and pulled him closer. She tightened her legs around him, drawing him in on every descent. The table was perfect for stimulating the plug but frustrating in its limitations. She wanted Drake over her, covering her, taking what she wanted to give him. To feel his weight as he claimed her. To caress his skin and kiss down his chest until she returned the pleasure.
“You’re so damn much,” Drake said near her ear. He bit the lobe, kissed it better before the pain registered. “So much more than I could—” His kiss was another frantic ravishment that matched the hard thrust of his hips.
Her mind fuzzed out beneath the onslaught of her building orgasm. His words melted into his touch and the pleasure that overrode any worries. There was only him now. Only this. Only the moment.
“I had to have you tonight.” Drake leaned back, forcing her to open her eyes when her lids weighed too much. His slow withdrawal from her was a torture all its own. She just wanted him back. “Do you understand that? I had to have you.”
What was he saying? Why did it matter right now?
“You, Shell.” He drifted closer until his mouth hovered over hers. “And I made sure I got you.” He drove into her, accentuating the impact of his statement with the fervent demands of his tongue and dick.
Her brain hitched, her heart leaping before she lost herself to the lust. It burst from her core to sweep her up in the joy that escaped on the hope. On the dream and the tide of possibilities that blew through her barriers.
Drake wanted her.
Chapter Five
Drake had to have her. He wasn’t sure if he could let her go, not again. Months of evading his true desire had proven fruitless with her.
Her cry tumbled into his mouth as her muscles clenched him tight. Passion collected in his balls and raced up his dick with the same impatience that’d clawed at him since he’d entered the room.
“Drake.”
Shelly’s choked declaration preceded the hard spasm of her release. Her head fell back, lips parting, nails digging into his nape as she tumbled over the edge. And he was right there with her, so damn ready to fall as well, but not yet. Not when she was this beautiful to watch.
The complete freedom she embraced, the lack of control that went against her norm, filled him with a power he only found with her. He’d done this to her. Him. Not any of the other men in the room. And he wanted to do it again and again and...
The drum of his heart echoed in his ears, amplifying the pounding in his chest. Sweat dampened his spine and had him cursing every restriction placed on them by the Boardroom. The impersonal environment. The pre-defined encounters. The expectations of distance, of sex without commitment.
He held back, jaw clenched tight, and powered into her until she melted into his hold. Only then did he let himself go.
His orgasm tore through his chest and stole his breath for the long beat of the first swell. Fuck, Shelly. He buried his face in her neck and held on, marveling in the details while getting lost in the moment. Pleasure swept away every thought until there was only them, connected in the most intimate way despite their surroundings.
She fit against him perfectly, like she belonged there.
She did belong there.
A cry broke through the room. The persistent hard smack of skin on skin set the tone before he was ready to let go of the quiet.
Before he was ready to let go of her.
“Shelly,” he mumbled near her ear. “You...” What? Are everything? That was too damn corny, especially two seconds after they’d both come. “...were stunning.” The lameness curdled the remnants of his bliss.
Her low purr could’ve meant anything. Agreement, acceptance, dismissal. Whatever it was, it wasn’t enough. Not when he wanted so much more from her.
He framed her face in his hands, determined to get her to understand. Still connected, her heat holding him tight, he brushed the softest kiss over her lips. He tried to push his mixed-up emotions into her. How much he wanted her. How much he treasured her.
How a Boardroom fuck with her wasn’t enough anymore.
Her eyes were large when he eased back, confusion, longing and hurt mixed into the blue that’d darkened to midnight. He caressed her cheek with his thumb, awed by the open vulnerability she shared with him.
Her lips parted, closed. Had he stunned her that much? Did she understand what he’d yet to say?
“Thank you,” he whispered. Nerves collected in his chest, constricting his words despite knowing exactly what he wanted. What is going on? He never balked when he wanted something—and nothing had ever been this important.
Her withdrawal started on a blink and a swallow. She pulled away, her smile the superficial one she greeted strangers with. “My pleasure.” The icy edge in her tone went with the chill that crept in as she dropped her legs to his side.
The shift in position forced him to withdraw from her when he longed to stay exactly where he was. He turned away to take care of the condom, grabbing a wipe from the table to do a quick cleanup. The unsexy side of sex had never bothered him as much as it did right then. When every second away from Shelly ticked off her imminent departure.
She slid from the table, her dress falling to hide the evidence of what they’d just done. Around them, the other couples were still engaged in their activities. A foursome had taken over the space at the end of the table in a shared experience that should’ve excited him. At one time, the visual alone would have been enough to get his desire going. Now, he had no interest in them or anyone except for Shelly.
She gave him a quick flash of a smile that was little more than a curl of her lips. A reserved wall had gone up around her as clearly as if it’d been built of brick and mortar. “I...” She snapped her mouth closed, looked away. “I can’t do this. Not anymore.” Her eyes were haunted and pain-filled when she turned back. “Not with you.”
He reached for her, but she dodged his touch. Her quick head shake was followed by her even quicker departure. She headed to the door without a glance at anyone, her back straight, her chin lifted in pride or defiance. Or was it simply the strength she needed to run from him?
He stood there, frozen. Her dismissal was a sharp jab to his heart, but what had he expected when he’d told her nothing? When she had no clue what he wanted or really thought? Indecision plagued him. Why was he letting her go? What was he afraid of? Did he really want to spend the rest of his life in a series of meaningless sexual encounters?
The dark red strip of material that was her thong lay in a tiny pile on the floor, discarded and forgotten in her haste to leave. Had he misjudged their experience together?
No. He shook his head, certain of what they’d shared. He’d fucked enough people to know when it went deeper than an exchange of orgasms.
And they’d gone deeper.
He swept up the thong and made a beeline for the door, determined to get Shelly back—not that he’d ever really had her. Their Boardroom exchanges were never meant to be anything more than a night of mutual pleasure.
And they had been, until now.
Chapter
Six
Shelly practically threw herself at the bathroom door. It banged against her palms as she shoved in, only to swing closed on a whisper of air. She stumbled to the sinks and squeezed her eyes closed to hold back the damning emotions that threatened to break her.
Not here. Not now.
The edge of the counter dug into her palms, the coolness calming against the heat that bathed her. Her heart rate edged near normal, but her nerves were a scattered mess. Or was it her heart that was a mess? It hurt in a way she’d sworn to never let happen. Yet here she was, hiding in a public bathroom with a butt plug diligently reminding her of how much she’d given away.
She just had to get home with her pride and dignity intact. That she could do.
The burn in her throat slowly eased with the rise of her determination. This little fantasy hitch with Drake was nothing compared to the obstacles she’d scaled to get where she was today. He was just a guy. One she would avoid in the future.
She sniffed, sucked in a long breath before she raised her head. The woman staring back at her in the mirror was nowhere close to the woman who sold multi-million-dollar properties. Her hair was a tousled mess that, when paired with her smudged lipstick, flushed cheeks and the display of cleavage, defined exactly what she’d been up to.
Fucking.
That was it. Not falling in love or even lust. Not pining after a man who was probably crowing right now about “bagging the girl.”
Her disgusted laugh slashed her unjust thoughts. This wasn’t high school, and she’d never seen nor heard Drake act in such a disparaging way. Trevor wouldn’t allow it, let alone condone it.
She drew herself up, the plug shifting in a sweetly enticing way against her rim. She bit her lip to hold back her groan. Even after the mind-numbing orgasm Drake had given her, she could come again with only a little encouragement.
That’s what anal play did to her.
And Drake had played her perfectly.
The bathroom door swept open with a hushed rush of air and the creak of hinges. Shelly’s focus snapped to the intruder who strode into the space without a care for boundaries.
“Drake?” She spun around to face the man who’d destroyed her structured world without even trying. One look at the dark intent on his features and her pulse skyrocketed into unknown realms. “What are you doing?”
She pulled her shoulders back in an act of self-preservation that had nothing to do with fending him off. Each stride he made toward her clicked off his intent on the tiled floor. Passion and something carnal stirred in his eyes, something that froze her when normal instincts said to run.
He came to a stop directly in front of her. Each moment spread out on an expanded beat that seemed to last forever without passing at all.
She could only stare at him as he lifted his hand to cup the side of her neck. “The scene is over,” she stated around the parched state of her throat. He knew the rules. They all did. And this was way outside of them. Yet she still stood there, trying desperately not to melt into the gentle slide of his hand around that tender space on her neck.
“The scene is.” The deep rumble of his voice tweaked her nipples as it rolled over her. “But we’re not.”
His cocky certainty picked at her independence. “Really?” She shook her head and dropped her gaze. “Because I believe we are.” For good. She couldn’t keep doing this, pretending not to care when she did.
Especially when she was standing in a public bathroom with a butt plug up her ass placed there by the very man making the huge assumption.
His brows dipped. “Are we?” The soothing pass of his thumb along her jaw urged her to relent. Or was that her heart begging her to back down? “Because I was really hoping you felt the same as I did.”
“Were you?” She managed to breeze through the retort with a slight lift of her brow and disdain in her tone, even though her nerves vibrated on a silent jitter that threatened to show her insecurities. Ones she never displayed. She stared down clients and fellow agents without flinching, and she wouldn’t here.
“I was.”
Could he be serious? The slow, steady stroke of his thumb spoke of comfort and something deeper than a fuck over a table. Was she simply projecting her desires or...
“How do you feel?” The breathy quality of her words hid nothing. With honesty came vulnerability, and she could only hope he gave it back.
“Like I can’t get enough of you,” he stated with such firmness there was no room to doubt him. “Every time we’re together I can’t imagine anything better. But sex isn’t enough.” His frown held an element of confused dismay before it flattened into conviction. “I want more with you. I want a bed and breakfast and walks on the beach and talks over coffee and...more. More than this. More than random orgasms that leave me empty.”
He drew her in, his eyes softening until she swore she could read every emotion floating in them. Ones that matched his words and left her breathless. Her head spun with possibilities while she tried to stamp down the hope bubbling in her heart.
“I want more with you, Shelly.” Each word whispered over her lips like a promise. “Only you.”
His kiss was another of those gentle touches that broke through her defenses faster than any passionate embrace or fiery battle of tongues. He brushed his lips against hers, never pushing farther, but every graze flooded her with warmth and wonder.
How had this happened? Was it real?
She swallowed around the boulder in her throat and tried to sort through her emotions, only to find every path impossible to navigate. Logic failed her when it’d guided every aspect of her life. Work hard. Be smart. Know how to play the game. Keep ahead of your competitors.
He hid nothing from her when she tried to discern his intent. His expression was open, his hope exposed beside a raw nakedness she’d never, not once in all the time she’d known him, associated with him.
“What do you want from me?” she asked once she found her voice. A few nights of passion? A fuck buddy? There was nothing wrong with either of those things, but not with Drake. Clarity was key if she had any chance of preserving her heart and dignity, because she was so damn close to forgetting every rule she had and taking whatever he offered.
“Everything.”
Her brows flew up before his smile bloomed in an infectious curl of boyish charm. And those were terms she never dreamed she’d apply to him. Intense, confident, driven, commanding—those were all descriptors that easily applied. This was unexpected, which made it honest.
He drew her in until she was enfolded within his arms, her head resting on his shoulder, his dark scent reminding her of every encounter they’d shared. The instant rush of security warmed her in ways she couldn’t explain or define. He’d done all kinds of naughty, wonderful things to her that she’d been unable to ask for and had never once made her feel bad or uncomfortable. No, he’d always managed to make her feel special.
Just like he was doing now.
“If everything is too much, I’ll start with bringing you home with me.” He rubbed his hand over her back in soothing strokes. “Then I’ll move to serving you breakfast, followed by a day of wine tasting or a walk on a beach or—”
“I have appointments tomorrow.” Saturdays were prime showing days in the real estate business.
“Then I’ll take you to dinner after a long day at work. Rub your feet and—”
Her choked laugh cut him off this time, but she tipped her head back to grin at him. “You’re pressing kind of hard here. Does that mean I’m supposed to play hard-to-get?”
“I hope not.” He planted a long firm kiss on her lips that confirmed his intent and opened her own. “But you should know that I’m pretty persistent when I find something I want.”
“You are?”
“Yes.” He dipped his head again, his gaze skimming from her mouth to her ey
es. Her heart did a small flip when the full impact of his intensity was leveled on her. “And I want you, Shelly. Not just for a night or a scene in the Boardroom.”
She swiveled her head in a slow motion as she tried to stifle the smile dying to break free. “You barely know me.” But that wasn’t true. They knew each other far better than most did when they started dating. Was that what they were negotiating? Dating?
The word sounded archaic given how intimate they’d been. He could already get the milk for free, but it appeared he now wanted to buy the cow.
And she was referring to herself as livestock just like her grandmother once had, another thing she’d sworn she’d never degrade herself to. Yet here she was, thinking in dated terms while she stood pantyless and plugged in the arms of the man who’d put her in that state. The very man who’d just declared he wanted her.
And she was balking now?
The irony was epic.
Chapter Seven
He didn’t know her? Did Shelly really believe that? “I know that you only show this smile to people you trust.” He ran his finger over her lips, relief slowly undoing the tension that’d held his chest tight. “I know every moan you make and what it means.” Sweet high ones and low hungry ones. He eased his hand down to the curve of her bottom. “I know that ass—”
She dragged him down to cut off the rest of his sentence with a kiss that clearly said “take me home.” Or maybe it was “shut up.” Either way, he was good. More than.
The kiss was everything carnal and hot that he’d experienced before, but there was an open quality that sunk deep within him. He swept his tongue over hers, taking and giving until his dick ached and thoughts of fucking her against the sink clouded his judgment.
She did that to him with nothing more than a kiss and an unsaid promise.
