Push (Bound #1)

by Olivia R. Keane

  Declan had been friends with Aaron since his days interning at the Pittsburgh office during college summers. Aaron, Matt, and Declan often spent Mondays at lunch recounting everyone’s Saturday night conquests. Today hadn’t been any different. Declan had headed to lunch with the boys and made it to the table in time to hear Matt detailing some raucous rendezvous that involved the back seat of a cab. Matt and Aaron always shared details. Most men do. Declan was not most men; he didn’t share with anyone who he bedded or anything that went on in the bedroom. Of course, his encounters these days were different from your average, every day clumsy lay in the back of a taxi.

  Before moving to Pittsburgh, getting to know a woman involved finding out if she liked it on top, bottom, or from behind. Back then he was always the one-and-done guy. He never bought a ticket to ride the same tilt-a-whirl more than once. But quick lays were too predictable, too vanilla. Not that there was anything wrong with a good lay, but he found it boring—same lay, different girl, different day. He craved the slow dance of seduction, the mind shattering pursuit. He lusted after the feeling of a woman giving herself completely over to him. He was choosy—no, discriminating—in his choice of partners, and he looked for total obedience in a relationship.

  How that was possible from a blind date was anyone’s guess. Blind dates were like grab bags at the dollar store; you never knew what you might get. Even worse than blind dates were set ups that involved a friend’s fiancé’s relative. He shuddered at the thought, especially after Aaron mentioned she had a “great personality.” Declan knew that was code for winning the butter-face lottery.

  Thinking quickly on his feet that morning, Declan planned to seek her out after spotting Charlotte’s name on a stack of manuscript reviews on his desk. He would intimidate the poor mouse of a girl and then let her down gently, playing the human resources nightmare card. His whole Master of the Universe persona was working until the bookish mouse turned out to be a sexy-as-hell firecracker.

  She just had to be an employee, didn’t she? He wasn’t about to enter into something with a woman who worked for him, not after that mess in the Toronto office with his oldest brother, Patrick. His brother ended up falling for his assistant who was interning as she earned her MBA. Everything was going fine until Pop discovered Pat was diddling the help instead of giving her dictation. In the end, it all worked out, and now Rebecca is his new sister-in-law, but it could have gone badly. If ole Paddy boy hadn’t stood up to Pop, things could have gotten ugly. Hell hath no fury like a scorned woman wielding sharp office implements.

  Declan had certain tastes when it came to women, tastes that ran outside the norm, but he held himself to some standards, and one of them was not dicking around at work. Poking the payroll was always bad for business. He never once let his cock dictate his actions, or at least that is what he had been trying to convince himself of for the past eight hours. His personal philosophy had gotten Declan this far in business. Was he suddenly willing to change because of a gorgeous woman in research? Declan had convinced himself he would meet her for dinner, it was the gentlemanly thing to do. But in no uncertain terms would he take it any further. Charlotte Flynn was untouchable and forbidden. He almost believed himself until he caught a glimpse of her sitting at their table.

  Charlotte looked stunning at the office but even more breathtaking out of it. Her hair, long and dark, shone in the glow of the secluded dining area. She was wearing a sexy charcoal dress, and it accentuated every blessed curve of her body. He watched, breathless as Charlotte placed the glass of champagne to her plush lips and tasted the sparkling golden liquid. She briefly held it in the confines of her mouth, savoring the taste before swallowing. She hadn’t discovered he was there yet, so Declan watched a moment longer.

  The lust/loathe dynamic that surrounded them at the office carried over to the restaurant. Her smart mouth turned him on. Thinking about her mouth drove him crazy. The fact she sank her teeth into that lush bottom lip of hers on purpose had his blood boiling. He couldn’t keep away from her. When their mouths crashed together, it wasn’t a sweet, gentle kiss. No, it was angry, wet, and hot. The way the skin of her neck gave into the pleasure and pain of his bite drove him mad. She released a little moan, and he knew at that moment she would submit to his desires eventually. And her scent. She smelled like a vanilla cupcake—sweet and seductive—like spun sugar.

  And her eyes, Sweet Mother of God! They were hazel, dancing somewhere between beautiful tawny brown and glass green. Declan closed his eyes and almost let out a growl, the image of her looking up at him with that gaze as she took his cock in her amazing mouth danced through his lust-addled brain. It was almost more than he could take. His self-control was waning, yet he knew he would continue his descent into Hell and enjoy every damned minute of it.

  ***

  As Declan made his way into the Pearse Publishing building Wednesday morning, last night’s single malt and self-doubt clouded his thoughts. Today could go a few different ways. Charlotte might act as if nothing happened, become as unrelenting as cling wrap, or have his ass handed to him. He doubted the latter because Kellan mentioned she was a loyal employee who loved working for Pearse. Declan didn’t think she would throw him to the lions.

  He was standing in front of the bank of elevators when she walked into the office building. Damned if she didn’t completely ignore him. The doors opened, and they both made their way into the packed car. By the time the elevator reached the eighth floor, it was so crowded it was almost at capacity. When it stopped, four more people decided to squeeze in. Charlotte pushed further into him. Her back was against his chest, and her ass was against his now semi-erect cock. The rest of Declan’s body stiffened, and he had to stifle a groan. When the elevator moved again, Charlotte moved as far away as she possibly could. It was all Declan could do to stop from grabbing her hip and pulling her back against his body. He wanted to whisper in her ear and share with her how much he would love to feel her ass pressed up against his hard cock.

  Declan’s torture ended when Charlotte pushed her way through the sandwiched staff and exited on the fourteenth floor. When he made it to the seventeenth floor, Declan flew out of the elevator and breezed right past his secretary, Natalie, who was trying to tell him something, but his mind was in a fog, so she sounded like Charlie Brown’s teacher.

  “I’ll deal with it later!” he shouted at her and slammed the door to his office shut.

  Control. Damn it. Control. Declan had never experienced this kind of distraction at work, and he was beginning to unravel. Work. He needed to focus on work and stop thinking about Charlotte. It had been barely twenty-four hours since the date at Thirteen left him rock hard and with an unquenchable desire to claim every glorious inch of her. Nearly an entire day of not being able to kiss her, scrape his teeth against her tender flesh, or touch her soft, wavy hair, and he felt like a lunatic.

  ***

  Declan needed to talk to someone, someone who would understand. He glanced at the clock and did something he hadn’t done in months. He decided to contact Emerson Stone.

  “Ms. Ward, will you please get Dr. Stone’s office on the phone for me?” Declan’s voice softened, remembering he had grumbled at his skittish secretary on his way in.

  “Yes, Mr. Pearse. Right away.”

  Moments later, there was a knock on his office door.

  “Come in, Ms. Ward.”

  “Mr. Pearse, Dr. Stone himself is on line two for you. Can I get you something hot to drink, perhaps some tea or would you like some Tylenol?”

  Declan smirked and shook his head. “Oh, my dear, Ms. Ward, thank you for being so thoughtful, but Dr. Stone is not that kind of doctor. Now if you please, shut the door behind you?”

  Declan picked up the line. “Hello, Emerson.”

  “Hello, Declan. It has been far too long.”

  “Yes it has. How is your Anabelle?” Declan tried to make small talk, but his mind was laser-focused on one thing, getting back on track with his
pursuit of Charlotte.

  “She is doing well.” Stone paused. “So who is she, and how did it go awry?”

  It all came out then. Declan talked at length about her, about how he was certain she would make an excellent submissive for him, and that he wanted to take her on as one. He also told Emerson the obstacles in his path. She was first an employee, and secondly they had gotten off on the wrong foot when he dined with her last night. He confessed he hadn’t maintained control and acted like a horny teenager who needed to get laid.

  During the conversation, Emerson let Declan speak freely, making appropriate comments. Yes, she sounded like she would be a perfect sub for Declan. Yes, Declan acted like an ass. Yes, being her boss could create a problem, but only if he allowed it. Emerson mentioned he was speaking from experience on this matter, so Declan trusted him implicitly. Yes, from time to time it was possible that control would be hard to rein in. Yes, he could correct the situation.

  By the time Declan had finished the call an hour later, he felt relieved. Stone had convinced him the best way to gain the upper hand again was to allow her to keep her job, but limit his pursuit and seduction to situations away from the office.

  Declan cursed. How exactly am I going to manage this? Charlotte seems to want nothing to do with me at the moment. He rifled through his desk, filtering through his mail while wracking his brain. He spotted an invitation at the bottom of the pile and pulled it out. Quickly, he realized he had the perfect situation to show his hand to Ms. Flynn.

  ***

  Anticipating her after-hours arrival, Declan left his office door open to set Charlotte at ease. Engrossed in the copy of the manuscript he had planned to give her to review and hadn’t noticed her right away.

  As he looked up, Charlotte sucked in a breath, obviously anticipating something sinister. He couldn’t help himself. He looked her over. Christ. She was sexy. She was wearing glasses. Of course, she was. It wasn’t true what they said about girls with glasses, at least not for Declan. He found them incredibly alluring. For Declan, glasses did for the eyes what lingerie did for the body. Those wonderful tortoise shell numbers that sat on the bridge of Charlotte’s perfect little nose framed those dark lashed stunners and made them standout. With her hair swept up in a loose bun, Charlotte Flynn fulfilled every one of Declan’s hot-for-teacher fantasies as well as all the repressed sexy librarian ones.

  Declan shifted in his desk as he sat typing, trying to maintain his composure. Fuck, her pencil skirt would be the death of him. That and those high heels. Charlotte’s legs looked like they could go on for miles, and Declan found his mind wandering about scraping his stubbled jaw against the smooth pale skin of her legs as he wrapped them over his shoulders.

  Declan looked up at her as she stood still in the doorway and gestured her to enter. She walked in, stopped, and stood still in the center of the office.

  “Charlotte Flynn.” Declan broke the silence that swallowed his office whole.

  “Actually, I prefer Charlie,” she retorted confidently.

  “I happen to think Charlotte is a quite lovely name. It suits you.” Declan pushed his chair back, wheels rolling across the shiny hardwood the only sound in the cavernous office.

  “Mr. Pearse, if you don’t mind me asking, why did you call me here? I thought we were finished reviewing the Ainsworth manuscript. Besides, shouldn’t I be reviewing these with the head of research?”

  Declan rubbed his index finger beneath his bottom lip. “If I am not mistaken, Ms. Flynn, didn’t you usually review things with Kellan? Wasn’t he more hands-on with some of the research for the manuscripts?” He rose from the chair. “I’m merely following his lead.”

  His fingers tapped rhythmically on his desk. He ached to run them along the length of her legs, pushing that pencil skirt up to reveal what he imagined to be magnificent, creamy thighs.

  He had to stop thinking like that or he would never get through this meeting. He strode to the long windows behind his desk looking out into the night. It was now completely dark, and Declan could see her reflection in the glass. Their gaze met briefly. He turned from the window and loosened his tie.

  “Shall we go over the manuscripts then? Is that what you want?”

  “No, that is not what this meeting is about, Ms. Flynn. Please sit.” Declan gestured to the leather couch.

  Declan watched as she walked to the couch. She seemed to have an extra sway in her step today, like she was sure of herself and what she wanted to say. He waited patiently for her to speak.

  “Is this about the night at the restaurant? Are you going to fire me?” Her tone seemed almost lethal to Declan’s ears. “I know you have been in London and might not realize, but Iowa is, in fact, the only place in these United States where you can fire someone you are attracted to. I will have you know I will have my—”

  Declan brusquely interrupted and laughed. “No, Charlotte. This has nothing remotely to do with that night. And I am not planning on firing you, but promoting you.”

  Charlie reluctantly sat down. Declan watched as she crossed and then uncrossed those long legs. “If I am going to work for you, Mr. Pearse, I want to make certain you know I am not your sweetheart. I prefer to be called Charlie, not Charlotte. And I am not a kiss ass. My work speaks for itself. My intelligence and my determination are what made your brother Kellan notice my abilities in the first place.”

  Declan did his best to suppress his smirk. He knew she loved her work, and it showed. It was a rare quality in employees these days. “Anything else, Ms. Flynn?”

  “Yes. I know women probably throw themselves at you, willingly parting with their panties for a chance to be yours for a few hours or a night, but that is not going to happen with me. I don’t plan on being one of your conquests, so you can save your energy and keep your lines, your sexy smiles, and bullshit for some other girl.”

  “Are you quite finished, Charlotte?”

  Declan turned for a moment and gripped the back of his chair. Charlotte was hot, but she was damn near irresistible when she was angry. He had to get control of the conversation back, and quickly, or he would be running his hands through those beautiful tresses of hers while he fucked her on the couch.

  “Ms. Flynn, I would like to shift your position in the company a bit. I want you to work exclusively as my researcher. This means no more research dungeon, but an office across from mine, access to the services of my secretary, and a sizable pay increase.”

  “But how does that work?”

  Declan loved the way her forehead crinkled a bit at her obvious confusion over the change in position. “Well, like Kellan, I will flag certain manuscripts for your eyes only. They will never make it past this floor. These are special publishing projects my father wants me to handle. We are taking the romance department in a new direction, and I am spearheading the efforts. I need someone I can trust with the new subgenre, and my brother has convinced me that you’re the person on staff best suited to handle this.”

  Charlotte rose from her seated position, and Declan looked her right in the eyes. He offered his hand as a good faith gesture, and she took it. “Well, how about it? Will you work with me?”

  “Thank you for the opportunity, Mr. Pearse. I accept the position and the challenge.”

  Declan couldn’t help but smile. “Good. I’m glad.” He walked back to his desk to retrieve the manuscript he wanted her to review.

  “Take this and read it tonight. Mark everywhere you see holes in the research.” Charlie took it from him. “You might be unfamiliar with the topic of this manuscript, so I think you might need to do a bit of field research,” he said handing her an invitation. “There is an event Friday night, an art exhibit that will help you to familiarize yourself with the topic.”

  Taking the invitation from him she said, “I will think about attending. My sister is hosting a cocktail party, and I promised I would help.”

  “Ms. Flynn, you don’t understand. When I ask you to perform research, it is not a
request, but a task you must fulfill to meet the job requirements. If you feel as though you are unable to perform these duties, I will look elsewhere for a personal research assistant.”

  “No, no. I want this chance. I will attend the event.”

  “Excellent. I will pick you up at your home at eight Friday night.”

  “You are picking me up?”

  “Yes, Charlotte. I need to familiarize myself with the work too, and it will give us a good chance to begin our working relationship.”

  Chapter Four

  I am His. I belong to Him. He can do anything to me he wants in any situation.

  I blossom in that knowledge. I am blindfolded and bound and open to Him. I hear Him moving about the room. The sound of the drawer opening sets my skin alight with anticipation; the drawer where He keeps the things He uses to draw pleasure from my body.

  I feel the bed shift as He joins me on it. He finds my lips and tastes them. He draws the nervous energy out of my body with His long, hungry kisses. His lips tear away from mine, and I feel His hot breath on my neck as He places kisses along its surface. His mouth continues its assault on my flesh, nipping at my collarbone briefly before His lips suck in one of my nipples. His gentleness gives rise to more forcefulness the longer He plays at my breasts. My nipples harden under His teeth and tongue. Suddenly the warmth of His mouth is replaced by a blistering cold sensation; ice. He is running ice over my nipples. He alternates the harsh chill of the ice with the hot warmth of His mouth. I am unable to control the river of desire pulsing through my body.

  “Are you ready, my pet?”

  It was one of those questions not meant for me to answer, but to serve as a warning than a question. I am never ready for His power; it overwhelms, yet I am always ready for the joy of Him.