by Paige North
“Then why have you ignored me?” I ask, a slight tremble on the last word. Damn it.
“Every time I see you, I’m so fucking hard I can barely function,” he fires back in a husky growl that makes me clench in response. His eyes are fixed hard on me, running me through like a dagger, pinning me in place. “I’m losing my focus, not getting my shit done. This is me keeping myself in control, making sure that my personal life doesn’t interfere with this job.”
But I don’t want you in control, I almost say, but bite my tongue. He isn’t done talking, I can tell. And I need to hear what he’s thinking and feeling.
I feel his hardness twitch against me, his body stiffen. “I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he continues. The resonance in his voice shatters my reserve into pieces, melts the last of my resistance. I can tell he’s sincere. “But the line between us keeps getting too blurred. We can’t let that happen. We still need to be able to maintain some semblance of professionalism, Emme.”
“I understand,” I say, even though I’m not sure I do. Not completely.
“And I’m not a good person to get close to,” he continues. “I have baggage. You deserve better.”
I hear a fragility in his tone I hadn’t expected. Dane’s afraid to drop his guard, afraid of getting hurt. Maybe that’s the other reason he’s pushing me away like this, though he hasn’t admitted it—not just because he’s trying to focus on work, but because he isn’t ready for entanglement. “Who hurt you?” I find myself asking.
He sighs, and his hand reaches up to caress my hair. “I had a very difficult breakup,” he says. “Almost immediately after I split from my ex, my brother got together with her. They’re married now.” The words are so plainly spoken, but they jar me.
This must be the family drama he meant in his email. No wonder he’s so skittish, so slow to open up and trust. “I’m sorry about what you went through.” I lean up on my tiptoes and kiss his jaw. He tastes so good, his skin so warm against my mouth. I feel him shudder, his breath growing more ragged from my actions. Something in me wants to take away the hurt.
I can make him feel good.
He buries his face in my hair, his arms tightening around me. “I need you, Emme.” A blunt sentence that sets me on fire.
I want to do this for him. I slide my left hand to his hip, the other moving to the hardness in his pants. With shaky fingers I cup him, and he groans, his grip tightening on my waist. “Then take me,” I tell him. “I want you to. I need this, too.” Consequences to my heart be damned. I’m so breathless for this man that I couldn’t possibly stop the painful craving sweeping through me right now.
Before I can blink, my coat and scarf are on the ground, then Dane’s suit jacket is whipped off and tossed in the upper corner of the elevator. Oh God, a camera. I didn’t even think of that. Then he’s back on me, his mouth pressing against mine, the fingers of one hand tangled in my hair. I groan and open for him, and his other hand strokes my thigh beneath my skirt’s slit.
“This skirt is fucking hot,” he breathes against my lips. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it all day. About fingering that hot, tight pussy until you cry out my name.” Then the skirt is up to my waist, baring my white panties to his sight. I’m so wet for him I fear I’m seeping through the fabric. He’s back against me, and we rub each other all over.
My entire body is throbbing, its pulse matching my frantic heart rate. I’m shaking all over. “Yes, please,” I beg.
“Let me give you pleasure. It’s all I can give you right now, Emme, but if I don’t, I’m going to fucking explode.” His mouth slides down my throat to lick the damp skin at my collarbone. “I can’t keep holding this back. Can you handle that? Will you let me fuck you like the dirty girl you are?”
I can’t seem to swallow. All I can do is nod. God, yes, give me everything, I want to plead him. I hope my eyes convey my feelings.
My panties are shoved down, and he unzips his pants. He digs into his wallet, and there’s the telltale crinkle of the condom wrapper. For some reason, that makes me even wetter. He’s been planning this, brought protection so sex in the office could happen. Once he’s done sheathing himself, Dane grabs my bare ass and lifts my back to the elevator wall.
After kicking off my high heels, I wrap my thighs around his waist, my pelvis aching to be filled by him. “Please,” I cry out, not caring how desperate I sound. I want him to know what he’s doing to me. I need him to.
“I’m going to shove myself inside that cunt right now,” he groans, pressing the tip to my entrance. Then he’s in me, stretching me with a sensation that’s almost burning. “Oh God. You’re so tight, so crazy tight, Emme.” His head drops to my shoulder as he withdraws, then pushes back inside. “And you’re so wet for me baby, aren’t you?”
“Yes.” The thrust of his dick in and out of me starts me clenching down there. I dig my heels into his firm ass. “Deeper. Yes. Right there.”
His fingers knead my bottom as he fucks me. My skin breaks out in goose bumps from waves of pleasure. He’s so hard, so hard for me. I’ve done this to him, made his breathing erratic, made his eyes narrowed, his heart throbbing against my breast.
He’s losing his control.
Power makes me heady, dizzy with desire.
My orgasm begins to build from his long, rough strokes against my G-spot.
“Rub your clit,” he orders.
I drop one hand down and do as he commands. My head falls back against the wall. I’m dripping wet, my juices coating him, coating me. I feel myself tighten in the telltale signs of my coming orgasm and groan.
Dane bites my neck, which makes me shudder. “You’re about to come, aren’t you?” he asks me roughly. He pumps me harder, digs his fingers in to the flesh of my ass almost to the point of bruising. It hurts and feels so damn good. “I need you to come. I need it more than anything else in this world, Emme. Give me that fucking orgasm.”
“I’m…I…yes, don’t stop,” I pant. My clit is tight, the little nub protruding, the nerves flaring from that one central spot to every other square inch of my skin. The wave builds, builds, so close, I’m going to, yes, I—
My body tightens and I gasp out my orgasm as it smacks me with a sharp intensity that steals my breath. It keeps going and going, surge of electricity shooting from my pelvis to limbs and back again.
“Yes, baby, that’s it.” Dane’s thrusts become irregular as his careful control erodes more and more. “Oh God, you feel unbelievably good.”
As soon as the sensation ebbs, I slide my fingers from my wetness and press two of them to his lips. His mouth opens in surprise, and I push the digits inside. When his tongue sweeps over the pads of my fingers, his nostrils flare, and he licks the fingers clean. I see the muscles on his neck strain.
Oh, he’s so close, too. I have to push him over the edge.
I remove my fingers from his mouth and lean close to him, squeezing my inner walls as tight around his dick as I can. I clutch the back of his head and move my mouth to his ear. “Come inside me, Dane. I need it, right now.”
He stiffens, groans. “You’re driving me crazy,” he says on a ragged breath.
When I rotate my hips against his pelvis, that does it. His head tosses back and his hands on my ass tighten as he pushes one last time into me, his entire body clenched. He shudders and shakes, then opens his eyes to stare at me while he empties his seed in the condom.
In this moment, all his walls are down, and I see everything he’s feeling right there in his eyes. The experience makes my lungs tighten in response, makes my whole body explode with a second, smaller unexpected orgasm. I squeeze every last drop from him.
We stay connected like that for a good minute, breathing hard, sweat beading our bodies. Then I slide down until my bare feet touch the carpet. I almost think I won’t be able to stand, but my legs surprise me; there’s only a slight tremble in my knees.
He presses a kiss to my brow, a tender gesture that makes my heart
squeeze. We straighten our clothes, and he discards the condom in a handkerchief tucked in his suit coat. Though he looks presentable as always, there’s a rawness in his eyes right now that fills me with a multitude of emotion.
I give him a crazy wide grin, and the matching one that spreads across his face is so genuine it makes my heart swell in response. Wow. The impact of Dane at full wattage, unfiltered, is unreal. He’s breathtaking. I want to always see him like this, smiling and relaxed. I wish he felt this way more.
Dane releases the elevator, and we begin the descent to the first floor. The doors ding open; I grab my belongings but linger in my spot. I don’t want this moment to end. I know it will, but right now I feel so good, so relaxed. So connected to him.
He holds the door open for me. His voice is barely above a rough whisper. “Thank you for the pleasure of your company, Emme. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I swallow and head out of the elevator. When I turn around, I give him a crooked, sassy smile in return. “Maybe take the rest of the night off. I think you earned it.”
Dane
“Cheers, motherfuckers!” Austin says as he raises his beer.
“Cheers, motherfuckers!” we all chant, clanging the tops of our bottles against each other.
I’m nestled in the corner of Brats & Brew, my favorite pub in Boston, with a few old college friends. We try to meet once a month when possible. I called an impromptu gathering when I got home an hour ago after work—scratch that, after having crazy hot sex with Emme in the elevator.
I needed something to distract me from replaying that wicked scene in my head over and over again at home alone. I can’t believe I did that. But I can’t seem to muster any regret, especially since she was so fucking into it.
Thankfully, three of the guys were free tonight, so here we are, chowing down on dinner and sipping beer. Rock music plays in the background, and the wooden slab tables are big and inviting. We managed to get in right after the dinner crowd rush.
Austin, who used to play hockey in college, chugs his drink and plops the bottle on the table with a loud exhale. “I’m glad you called, bro,” he tells me. “I needed a night out. Work’s been stupid busy lately, and they’re dangling partnership in front of me like a fucking carrot, knowing I’m just gonna bite.” Austin is a lawyer at a well-respected divorce firm, where he started working right out of college. Usually he’s too busy to make our get-togethers.
I slap him on the back. “You’ll get there if you ever stop slacking and get your shit together.” It’s a joke—as driven and work-focused as I am. Austin is about five hundred times more than me. The man puts me to shame.
We spend the next half hour bullshitting about nothing big. Dominic, who’s newly divorced, talks about the difficulties of potty training a little boy who only wants to poop in the closet. Of course, we bust his balls about the time in college he sleepwalked into a girl’s dorm room and peed on her bed.
“I think that girl is still in therapy,” Emerson teases. “She refused to go out with me because I was your roomie.”
“You’re better off,” Dominic says with a shove of his shoulder. “She was clearly uptight anyway. Urine’s sterile.”
I break out into a hearty laugh. “Not your urine. I saw the shit you drank in college—I’d say it was flammable, as well.”
Austin raises a brow as he scrutinizes me. “You’re in a good mood tonight.”
I give a casual shrug. He’s right, I am, but I don’t want him staring at me like a science project. Austin is relentless when he wants to talk about something, and I can see he’s taking a strong interest in my mood.
“Did Jennifer finally put out?” Dominic teases me. “That’s the smart chick you’ve been seeing, right?” He swigs his beer.
“We’re not dating anymore.” I don’t expand, instead searching for a new topic to shift to. The last thing I want to talk about is my dating life. Not when I can’t stop thinking about Emme. “What do you think of the new Patriots running back?”
“Why did you guys break up?” Austin asks, ignoring my football question. “You two seemed perfect together. She’s witty and savvy, and she seemed very interested in you.” His eyes narrow. “But you didn’t seem that into her though, now that I think about it.”
“She finally realize you’re boring as fuck in bed?” Dominic inserts drolly.
“Your mom didn’t have any complaints about my performance last night,” I toss back at him, one brow raised.
“Oh, shit.” Emerson snorts and punches Dominic’s upper arm. “The gloves are off now.”
Dominic rubs the wounded area. “Asshole. That hurt.”
“So who put that smile on your face, then?” Austin says, pushy as ever. “Because it clearly wasn’t Jennifer.”
“Actually, he’s right.” Emerson waves at the waitress, who sidles over and bends down to reveal a healthy dose of cleavage in his direction. He orders another round of beer, and she winks, then takes off. “Someone pulled that stick out of your ass, and it wasn’t Dominic’s mom, either.”
“I’m not that different,” I protest. “Stop exaggerating.”
Dominic finishes the last of his beer. “It’s true. The last few years, you seem like you just…like you’re walking through life but not really feeling it. Today you seem like your old self, the guy we haven’t seen in a long time. It’s interesting. You’re smiling and laughing the way you used to. Maybe you’re finally ready to move on past The Bitch.”
I quirk a brow to mask the discomfort in my chest. “You getting deep on me, man? All those psych classes in school are finally paying off?” Dominic’s getting his Master’s in psych after changing his major about fifty times in undergrad, then dropping out to support his ex while she finished her schooling first. Despite the persona he puts forth of a carefree guy, Dominic’s been through some rough patches that makes me feel like he understands the hurt I’ve experienced. His wife finished school and left him right after.
The bitterness of betrayal runs in both of us.
“Don’t shift this to me, dude,” Dominic shoots back.
He and Emerson talk for a bit about the topic of my personality change, but I tune them out and drink the last swig of beer in my bottle. Our waitress comes over to deliver our new round. Deep down, I know my friends are right. I do feel different. And the realization that part of this change might be because of Emme makes me vastly uncomfortable.
For so long now, my focus has been on work. Building my company, developing noteworthy clientele, growing my employee base. But the last week or so, it hasn’t been the driving impetus for me to wake up and go to the office.
Emme has.
And I have no fucking idea how to feel about that.
It feels kind of refreshing to not care about who’s around watching me, to not worry about being on my best behavior to woo potential clients.
I need to do this more often.
The thought reminds me of Emme’s comment on needing to socialize more. I wonder what she’s up to tonight. The temptation to send her a text hits me hard.
That’s not me. I can usually control my impulses. But I suddenly want to talk to her. I need to talk to her.
For the next hour or so, I try so fucking hard to not think about how her body felt, how soft her skin was when I touched her. The vulnerable flash of hurt I saw in her eyes when she thought I was toying with her. I wanted to gut myself for putting that look on her face. She deserves better than to feel like she’s being dicked around, even if she and I won’t ever go beyond the sexual relationship we have now.
But in between snippets of conversation, Emme’s there in the back of my head.
Dominic smothers a yawn—a sure sign of a tired single dad. “Okay, assholes. This has been fun, but I have to go home. I took out a small loan to pay for a sitter tonight.” He grins and tosses a pile of bills down to cover his portion of the food and drink.
Austin glances down at his watch and grimaces. “Shit. It’s lat
e. I have to go too.”
We square up our bills, do that manly slap-hug thing, then take off in our respective cars. I drive home in the quiet, mulling over the night, the quiet and dawning realization that I haven’t been myself for years. I thought this drive to make my business succeed was myself, though perhaps not the best version of me—even I can admit I’ve been too work-obsessed lately.
But maybe I’ve been operating under faulty logic here. Maybe I’ve changed without realizing it, and not for the better. What I thought was admirable focus turned out to just be boring and flat.
It makes me wonder what Emme sees in me. She didn’t know me before working at the company; how did she see the real me, the one my friends haven’t seen in years?
As soon as I get in my condo, I kick up my feet, put on a jazz CD, and grab my phone to send her a text. I have all my employees’ numbers saved in my cell in case I need to reach them while I’m offsite. I don’t know what she does in the evenings, and I don’t want to disturb her. But I’m feeling strange and unsettled right now, and I need to connect with her.
It’s Dane. You busy with school work?
I send the text before I can talk myself out of it. Then I lie back and close my eyes for a moment, let the music wrap around me. It doesn’t soothe me the way it normally does, though. I’m uneasy; too many thoughts are rattling around in my head.
My phone chimes with an incoming text.
No, I’m done with school for the day. Are you relaxing this evening like I told you to? ;-)
My lips quirk. I start to type a response, but I don’t want to talk to her this way. I want to hear her voice. I dial her number, instead.
“Hello?” Her surprise is evident in her tone.
“What are you doing right now?” I close my eyes again and let the music of her voice wash over me.
“I’m doing laundry.” She laughs, and the husky timbre makes my skin ripple. “That’s so sexy, right?”
