After the Storm (All I've Ever Needed)

by Moore, Jewel

  The persons and events portrayed in this work of fiction are the creations of the author, and any resemblance to real persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

  The text of this publication or any part thereof may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, storage in an information retrieval system, or otherwise, without the written permission of the publisher or author, except for brief quotes used in reviews.

  Copyright © 2012 by Jewel Moore

  All Rights Reserved.

  ShadesOfGrey Publishing

  AFTER THE STORM

  by

  Jewel Moore

  This is the erotic romance version of the romance novella, All I’ve Ever Needed.

  Natalie Harding can’t believe that her absolutely gorgeous work colleague Stephano Romano is attracted to her. But after one unexpected, totally hot Friday evening encounter on her office desk of all places, she’s convinced that maybe he returns the feeling she’s harbored for him in the fifteen months they’ve worked together.

  Her bubble of euphoria doesn’t last for long, though. The very next Monday she watches in shock as he kisses the young woman who drops him off to work at the office and then saunters in looking as though she’d kept him up all night.

  Is there an innocent explanation for the kiss and Stephano’s bleary-eyed appearance? Did his father suffer chest pains and have to be rushed to the hospital where the doctors kept him in all night for close monitoring? Or is it just an excuse Stephano’s using to cover his night of pleasure with another woman?

  After the Storm

  Natalie Harding stood up, raised her arms over her head and gave a long, leisurely stretch to ease the aching muscles she’d held in the same position for the last three hours.

  God, that feels so good!

  A choking sound made her whip her head round and glance in surprise at her colleague Stephano Romano.

  He was sitting at his desk across the room from her, looking startled and…aroused?

  Shocked, she was paralyzed mid stretch as their eyes caught and held.

  They were alone in the office. She’d stayed to finalize a report for their newest client, a gourmet baby food company who had turned to her employer, an elite market research agency, in desperation after its profits had fallen month after month in the last year. The agency worked with some of the largest firms in the UK as well as many prominent overseas firms. They dealt exclusively with companies with annual turnovers in excess of a million pounds and produced results time and time again.

  Paul McCain, the company director kept the team to a maximum of ten members. Natalie had been incredibly lucky to be invited for an interview and even more so to be considered good enough to replace a valuable member of the team who was opting for early retirement. It had been sheer good fortune when the company director Paul, a close personal friend of Natalie’s project supervisor at university, had mentioned that he was losing one of his best employees. The lecturer had immediately recommended Natalie as a replacement.

  Natalie hadn’t heard of the company before being asked to attend the interview, but she had researched it thoroughly. She’d been apprehensive as she’d approached the company’s plush offices in Knightsbridge, but Paul soon put her at ease. He’d been blunt, telling her that ordinarily he wouldn’t consider hiring anyone with no previous experience but he’d been friends with the lecturer since they had themselves attended university and he trusted the other man’s judgment.

  Paul had called her “striking” and she’d flinched inwardly, thinking that it was a polite way of saying that she wasn’t attractive, but later when she got to know him better, she’d understood that he had paid her one of his highest compliments. He believed it having a ‘presence’ and had told her to never underestimate the ability to command attention.

  Her love of reading stood her in good stead as the job required a lot of research. She liked the intimacy of the team and the fact that they kept abreast of one another’s campaigns. If a team member fell ill or was unexpectedly absent, another team member could step in and deliver a planned presentation or continue work on an important project, if necessary.

  They had busy work schedules, but it was a Friday night, so she’d been mildly surprised that Stephano had stayed late as well. All of their colleagues had left the office long before six, making straight for the nearby pub for a drink or several before heading off to whatever entertainments they had planned with wives, partners or friends.

  Natalie didn’t have a date—hadn’t had one in almost five years—so she’d decided to finish the report while the exhaustive research she’d done all week was still fresh in her head.

  If Stephano didn’t have a date it would surely be because he didn’t want one. He was gorgeous: 6’3” with wavy black hair, intense blue eyes, shoulders the width of a door and a body he kept in perfect condition by going to the gym regularly.

  Suddenly it dawned on her that both her full breasts and ample behind were poking out suggestively while she held herself in the stretch position. Flustered, she dropped her arms. Her left wrist hit the edge of her desk with a loud thud.

  “Ouch,” she yelped in pain, sitting down abruptly and cradling it protectively in her other hand.

  “Cara?” Stephano was at her side in an instant, crouching beside her and taking her wrist gently in his large hands. He turned it over carefully to see if it was any serious injury.

  Did he just call her ‘darling’? She didn’t understand Italian except for the few words she read in the romance novels she devoured by the dozen each month, but she was sure that the word was an endearment.

  Whatever pain she’d been feeling vanished at the touch of his hands as they gently massaged her wrist. The feeling was quickly replaced by arousal, desire so strong she wanted to snatch her wrist away before he sensed it.

  “I’m fi-fine now.” What was wrong with her voice? That husky, sultry sound couldn’t have come from her. No, that had to have been someone else!

  “Are you sure, cara?”

  Okay, he’d said it again. The first time she understood—shock made people act out of character—but the surprise was now over. He had examined her wrist and knew that she hadn’t done herself any lasting damage, so why was he still crouched there, his muscular thighs stretching the material of his blue jeans?

  Suddenly he bent his head and kissed the pulse point of her inner wrist, his warm breath igniting the dormant scent pearls of the Elizabeth Taylor White Diamonds perfume she’d used after her morning shower and sending a tantalizing hint of it her way.

  Then he brushed his lips against her skin seductively.

  Natalie gasped. This wasn’t really happening was it? Gorgeous British-Italian hunks don’t crouch before her and kiss her wrist in a manner which suggested they’d been just waiting for an opportunity to do so. No, this had to be a dream.

  Still holding her wrist against his lips, Stephano lifted his head and glanced up at her.

  The look of desire in his eyes sent a shiver through her. She tried to tear her gaze away knowing that she couldn’t mask her feelings with him this close, but his eyes held hers like a magnet, searching out the secrets of her soul.

  And seeming to find the answer to his unspoken question, Stephano reached up, slipped his hand behind her neck and gently inclined her head downwards until their lips met.

  Expecting the mere lip brushing she’d shared with her first and only lover Michael, Natalie was unprepared for the passion of Stephano’s kiss. His tongue immediately probed her full lips seeking entry. Once admitted it tangled with hers aggressively before delving deeper. Nev
er before had she realized that kissing parodied the sex act, but as Stephano thrust his tongue deep into her mouth, Natalie had a vision of him thrusting himself just as deeply into her warmth.

  More aroused than she had ever been by a kiss, she wrapped her arms around his neck, sliding her fingers up into his hair and kissing him back with all the pent-up longing she’d harbored in the fifteen months she’d been working closely with him.

  The faint pop of a kneecap as it protested to having to bear half of his weight and some of hers brought Natalie back to reality with a rude bump. Embarrassed, she tried to disentangle her limbs from his, but in a fluid movement and a demonstration of his phenomenal strength, Stephano straightened and lifted her onto the desk behind her.

  The edge of her large, ergonomic keyboard pressed uncomfortably into her hip. She hastily pushed it out of the way as Stephano positioned himself between her legs and continued his assault on her senses.

  Fridays were dress-down days, but for their prestigious quantitative market research agency that meant smart casual, so like him, she was wearing designer denim bottoms but a skirt instead of jeans. Her top had a simple, wrap-over bodice and fitted closely to her waist, emphasizing her hour-glass figure and calling a little more attention than she liked to her shapely behind. But its sunny yellow color always brightened her mood, making her think of summer even on a cold winter’s day. This morning, feeling a little depressed that another weekend would find her at the local WHSmiths bookstore trawling their shelves for the romance her life lacked, she had decided at the very last minute to wear it. It was soft and feminine, unlike the ecru linen shirts she usually wore and she’d noticed a few of her colleagues eying her breasts sneakily from time to time all day. Any day but today she would have been wearing a tailored fitted skirt which wouldn’t have allowed Stephano access between her legs. All she could think as she wrapped her legs around his hips was, thank God, it’s Friday!

  She explored his muscular shoulders and strong back as they continued the all-consuming kiss. She had thought about touching him often and had tried to imagine what his hard muscles would feel like under her fingers. She had even dreamed about it on occasion, but nothing was as glorious as the real thing. The soft material of his grey shirt allowed her to feel the smoothness of his skin beneath it. In repose his muscles were firm not hard as she’d imagined, but as he suddenly groaned deep in his throat, cupped her behind and pressed her harder against him, they tautened into cords of steel.

  With her panties and his jeans between them she couldn’t accurately judge the size of his erection. It felt larger than she’d expected but she knew, and fervently hoped, that his underwear and jeans added to it bulk. What couldn’t be disguised though was its rigidity. ‘Rock-hard’ was a term she’d read often in romance and erotic romance novels in reference to a male protagonist’s erection and had thought it was a term bandied about by writers to make heroes sound better. Now she realized it could be an accurate description of a man in full arousal.

  Stephano cupped her right breast and found her nipple already erect and distended. With a groan that somehow even sounded Italian, he finally broke the kiss as he slipped both the top and the lace cup of her bra aside to bare her breast to his gaze.

  “Bella. Bella, cara mia.” Instead of bending to it right away, Stephano held Natalie’s gaze for a few heart-stopping moments, making her squirm against his denim-covered crotch.

  Impatiently, she tightened her fingers in his hair and urged his head downwards. He obediently let her bend him until he was a breath away from her aching, eagerly-waiting nipple and then took back control. For the next few seconds he let his breath waft over her already sensitized nipple, making it peak further, before drawing it between his teeth and nipping it into an even harder point.

  “Suck it!” Natalie demanded, too desperate to care about seeming impatient.

  She felt him smile against her flesh before he covered her nipple with his lips and did as she demanded.

  “Ah! Ah! Ah!” The pleasure was so intense, Natalie almost pulled herself away. Grasping her head in both hands, she bit her lip to stop further moans escaping. When she had mastered the sensation, she glanced downwards and found him looking up at her.

  He held her gaze as he slid his hand up her inner thigh and his finger under the gusset of her thong, as if ensuring she wanted to take things further.

  “Yes,” she said simply and watched his eyes darken in response.

  Finding her wet, Stephano groaned and circled her clitoris with his thumb as he slid the finger deep inside her. Her inner walls clutched at it eagerly and he groaned again, this time in anticipation, the sound coming from deep inside him like a growl.

  “You’re so wet, cara,” he whispered against her lips as he quickly straightened and reached downwards to free himself.

  He kissed her as he rubbed the head of his erection against her opening, letting the moisture at the tip mingle with her wetness before pressing himself inside her.

  “Aw!” She tore her lips from his, her whole body tightening in shock as he breached her tightness.

  “Easy, cara, easy,” he soothed, cupping her head and forcing her to look at him. He held himself still, not deepening his penetration as she slowly relaxed around him. “That’s it, baby.”

  She didn’t realize that tears had instantly sprung to her eyes until he bent and kissed her eyelids.

  “Mea culpa,” he apologized.

  “You really should warn a girl,” she retorted with a little more heat than she’d intended, feeling embarrassed she’d reacted so badly.

  “I didn’t think you’d be so tight, cara,” he said apologetically, but his eyes twinkled with suppressed amusement.

  Suddenly she saw the funny side too and chuckled softly. “I thought Italian Stallions were a myth.”

  The laughter he had been valiantly trying to contain burst out of him in a rush.

  “No stallion, cara, just a man,” he corrected.

  Bending, he kissed her deeply, cupping her behind and pressing slowly but inexorably inside her to the hilt. Once again he held himself still, letting her stretch and soften around him before slowly withdrawing and then thrusting back inside her.

  His mouth smothered her pleasure-filled moans as he quickened his thrust, but her fingernails digging into his flesh through his shirt told him that her pleasure wasn’t totally pain free. He should have exercised a little more patience, he scolded himself, but he’d lost his head the minute he’d taken her hand into his and felt her soft, smooth skin.

  Hitching her a little higher, he covered her breast with his lips, drawing her nipple into his mouth and sucking on it firmly. As he felt her relax in response, he circled his hips as he continued to thrust, stimulating her g-spot and bringing her quickly to a shivering orgasm.

  He followed immediately, having little choice but to come as her inner walls gripped him even more tightly, demanding its offering from his body.

  ***

  As her breathing slowed, Natalie once again became aware of her surroundings. Stephano was standing in front of her. Her head was resting comfortably on his broad shoulder and…he was still buried inside her.

  Oh God, had she just made love to a work colleague on her office desk?

  She wished she could keep her blushing face hidden forever and not have to meet his eyes, but Stephano reached across to pluck a handful of tissues from the dispenser on her desk and straightened up. Holding the tissue in place, he eased himself slowly out of her. He hadn’t fully deflated and she winced as an unexpected frisson of pain flashed through her.

  “Are you okay?”

  She nodded but couldn’t lift her head. She was so embarrassed she wished she was a thousand miles away. Books never said anything about the reality of sex in unexpected places. People just had sex, straightened their clothing and then went about business as usual. If Stephano hadn’t had the foresight to have the tissues in place both her hastily-tucked up skirt and her desk would now
be drenched. And yet, as grateful as she was that he’d had that foresight, it was a sobering reminder that he was a man with a vast sexual arsenal—one big enough for him to think clear headedly about practicalities only minutes after a seemingly explosive orgasm.

  He tilted her head upwards and she was thankful that he couldn’t see the blood warming her cheeks. Because of her dark chocolate complexion few people realized how easily she blushed. She’d thought that she would grow out of the habit once she left her teens, but though she had attended assertiveness training and was no longer the painfully shy child she’d once been, she’d never been able to stop secretly blushing.

  “Don’t be shy with me, cara.” His words made her feel even shyer because he was the first person in years to recognize that part of her since she had learned to mask it.

  “I’m fine.” Shoring up all her inner reserves she forced herself to stare boldly back into his eyes, smile and pull his head down for a quick kiss—giving herself another minute to regain her equilibrium and become the cool, calm professional he knew her to be.

  All too soon Stephano was pulling his lips away, regretfully it seemed, but pulling them away nevertheless and saying, “Sorry, cara, I have to go. I’m meeting friends from uni and I have to rush home and grab a shower before the limo comes to pick me up.”

  “Shit, is that the time?” Glancing up at the office clock, she feigned surprise, pushed him out of the way and jumped off the desk. ‘Jumped’ was a slight exaggeration—she wriggled off the end of the desk gingerly, trying not to wince as the movement set off aching pains in parts of her body she’d been unaware of until the present moment. “I have to go too!”

  She rushed to the ladies’ bathroom, wishing that he’d be gone when she returned but knew him well enough to know that he was too much of a gentleman to leave without saying goodbye. Delaying her exit would make him realize that her earlier performance: the checking of the time; the feigned surprise; the lie about needing to leave urgently and then the rush to the bathroom, were all one big act to cover the fact that she had hoped the night would have ended differently—in his bed or hers, replete from a sumptuous meal they had cooked together or ordered in and several glasses of wine, continuing the lovemaking they’d started earlier, but this time at a slower pace.