Desire Me

by Kayla C. Oliver

  Jesus, it looks like it was fucking glued on.

  “Don’t you recognize me?” she asked innocently.

  I kicked the corner of my mouth up in a smile. “Honey, how could I forget a body like that?”

  She laughed again. “Aren’t you charming?”

  “I certainly hope so.”

  “Mm. Well, this would probably go more in your favor if you’d just agreed to a meeting.”

  And once again we were back into the territory of what the fuck was she talking about. “As I recall, I gave you my card. Doesn’t that mean it was on you to set up a meeting?”

  “Oh, but I tried to, remember? I called your office today as a matter of fact.”

  My brow pinched, my smirk dropping. “What are you talking about? Did you get my secretary? I didn’t get any messages.”

  “No, I spoke directly with you. You don’t remember?”

  “Like I said, I’m sure I’d remember—”

  I broke off as things finally clicked. Her voice was familiar, and while it could have just been that convention, I didn’t think so. Because I did get a call at work that day. And I did speak to a woman who asked for a meeting with me that same day.

  Jesus fucking Christ. You’ve got to be kidding me, I thought, staring at the gorgeous, sultry woman sitting in front of me like she’d suddenly grown a second head.

  “Tell me you’re not Marnie McKenna from S&W Publishing.”

  Her smile turned wicked. “Look, folks, he’s finally catching on. Such a smart man.” Her sarcasm was venomous, and she finally dropped that smile a second later.

  Leaning back on my stool, I motioned for the bartender. When he came over to me and asked what I wanted, I said, “A scotch, neat.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The bartender pulled out a tumbler and poured a shot of the good stuff off the bar, then pushed it in front of me.

  “Thanks,” I told him. Lifting the glass in a toast to the lovely pain in my ass Ms. McKenna, I downed the shot. Then I had the bartender pour me another. This one I sipped on.

  McKenna waited patiently for me to down my first drink and to mull over just what was going on right here.

  After a moment, I sighed. “So you’re the editor who’s trying to sign Trent Parker.”

  She nodded. “Yes. And you’re the one who’s trying to steal him away.” She idly ran a hand around the rim of her glass, a half-empty martini by the looks of it.

  “Steal him?” I scoffed. “I think you’ve got that backward. From what I can tell, you’re trying to steal him from me.”

  “Excuse me? You weren’t even interested in signing him until I started negotiations with him!”

  I waved her off. Technically that was true, but I wouldn’t let her have that point. Trent was my friend, not hers—that meant I got first dibs. “Nonsense. We’ve been friends for ages. I knew him when he still had crooked teeth and acne. I doubt you can say the same.”

  She grumbled something I couldn’t make out. Louder, she told me, “I don’t have to say the same, because I have integrity.”

  “Integrity?” I almost laughed at her then and there.

  “Yes, integrity,” she snapped. “Meaning I don’t need to use some long-time friend connections to steal clients away from other publishers. I use my wits and my—”

  “Sex appeal?” I suggested, raking my eyes deliberately across her body. God knew she was using it with me. No one wore that kind of dress for a night on the town right after work. This was a setup, and she’d been trying to seduce me.

  And nearly succeeded, I admitted, my gaze once more lingering on those lovely tits.

  “Asshole,” she told me, turning so that I only saw her profile.

  It didn’t help with the staring, though, because she had the perfect breast-and-hip-to-waist ratio, making her look like she was naturally arching her back in ecstasy while all she was doing was sitting there.

  “The contract was a great offer, and he’d have accepted it eventually if you hadn’t stepped in,” she snapped at me. Her eyes were like fire as she fixed them on me, but her anger only served to turn me on. It was unprofessional at best, but I couldn’t help being attracted to her.

  No harm in looking, I reasoned.

  “Highly doubtful,” I told her, taking another sip of my whiskey. “He was indulging you—and I can see why. You’re quite an eyeful.”

  She pursed her lips together as her cheeks warmed. Her freckles suddenly stood out better, a little redder than the pale skin around them, and I found the effect… charming. Cute. A-fucking-dorable even. It was stupid; I didn’t do adorable. But for some reason the cute things just added to her overall effect until I found myself wanting to see just where else she had those delicious freckles.

  “Honey, if I’d been offering myself, he’d have already taken the damn contract.”

  I lifted my eyebrows at her insinuation, imagining what she would look like sprawled out on top of a desk, arching her back just like it was now, legs spread open as she invited me between them.

  Yep, I’d have probably thought really hard about signing, too.

  “Then I’ll have to hope that’s not your next offer… unless you want to pitch it to me?”

  She laughed, and it was breathy this time, telling me that she wasn’t entirely unaffected by the banter between us. “I don’t think you’re as useful to me as Mr. Parker,” she told me simply.

  “Oh, I beg to differ.” I leaned closer to her, pushing the boundaries of personal space and definitely going beyond what would be considered appropriate in a business situation. But this wasn’t business, and if she thought it was, she wasn’t paying attention. “I think I’d be plenty useful to you. Just give me a little time and I’ll give you everything you want.”

  Her breath hitched, her breasts heaving, and for just a second her eyes were dark pits of wanton lust. I could feel the draw, the slight lean of her body toward mine. She wanted me. Part of her even needed me—and then she promptly slapped her glass down on the table, with half of its contents sloshing over the side.

  “I don’t give up, Mr. Reid,” she told me, and while her voice was still husky, it was also firm. Like she wasn’t going to give in to whatever temptation I threw her way.

  Damn shame, I couldn’t help but think, even while the more reasonable side of me reminded me that she was working for the enemy. Almost literally.

  I didn’t lean back, and I didn’t do anything to hide the heat in my gaze, because I realized that it made her uncomfortable. She didn’t like that she was attracted to me, and damn it all if I wouldn’t play that up. I got off my stool and took a step closer to her. I was tall enough that we were eye level, and I could smell the soft, flowery scent she’d put on mixing in with the subtle hint of woman that drove me fucking nuts. I thought it must be pheromones sent out into the world in an effort to subconsciously attract a mate. It pissed me off, but I loved it, too. There was little that could make you as high as the scent of desire.

  “Neither do I, Marnie.” I made a point of saying her name, letting it roll off my tongue in an effort to show her the things I could do, would do if she’d give in.

  She shuddered but didn’t pull back. “Too bad for you, Mr. Reid.”

  I grinned wolfishly. “May the best man win,” I said pointedly.

  She grinned like a cat, slow and languid and predatory. It was fucking sexy. “Never send a man to do a woman’s job.”

  “And, baby, there are some jobs only a woman does right,” I told her, dropping my voice even farther. “Want to go someplace and find out which ones?”

  I didn’t know what made me ask. Up until this point, I was doing this purely out of a desire to make her uncomfortable—and because she was sexy as hell. But this… this was crossing a line. I should have tried to reach out into the air and snatch those words back, but even if I could have, I wouldn’t. I wanted to see what her answer would be, and a big part of me wanted that answer to be a yes.

  “Fra
ternizing with the enemy?” she all but purred, leaning even closer until I could actually feel the tips of her breasts pressing into my chest.

  God. Damn.

  “I promise to torture you until you scream,” I growled in answer.

  Her lips found their way to my ear, and her breath was a warm caress as she said, “I’ll hold you to that promise.”

  She pulled back at the same time that I stepped back. Neither of us moved far. We were simply making room for her to gracefully slip from her stool onto her heels. The additional height put her around my chin.

  I took her hand and placed it in the crook of my arm, like we were on a date, like I wasn’t walking her toward the back where there were private rooms so I could fuck her senseless and make good on that promise to hear her scream. The fact that she was so dressed up and I was being so gentlemanly… it made it even hotter.

  I leaned over and whispered, “You’re going to leave those heels on while I slide into you.”

  Her lips parted slightly as she looked up at me from beneath thick, dark lashes. “Good,” she said simply.

  Anticipation did half the work as it ran through my body. The less important, reasonable part of my brain was busy listing all the reasons that this was a horrible idea, but I was ignoring all of them. I wanted her. It didn’t matter if she was a pain in my ass or a ballbuster or anything else. It wasn’t like I wanted to marry her. I just wanted a hell of a time.

  I escorted her to the very end of the bar where there was a door with a sign that said PRIVATE in swirling gold lettering. She raised an eyebrow at me as I dug in my pocket for a key.

  “You got the keys to the city in there, too?” she teased.

  I grinned at her. “I’ve got something in my pants you’ll wanna see.”

  I used the key to open the door and slid in. There were a half dozen rooms in the back, usually used for meetings, but occasionally set up for more… intimate affairs like ours. It was a place for discretion and privacy, and only a few club members, like myself, had a key to get into the area. That was half the damn appeal. I didn’t care that I paid extra for it, regardless of the ridiculous bill. Nine times out of ten, I didn’t use it, but tonight it was well worth the price.

  Three of the six doors were closed with a red tag hanging on the handle, indicating that they were in use and not to be disturbed. But three were open. I picked the middle one, pulling out my key again.

  “The same key works on all the rooms?” she asked.

  I glanced at her and noticed that she was staring at the back hallway, looking at the doors and peeking at the room we passed. I had to remind myself that while she was an editor and likely made a decent salary, she wasn’t a billionaire. She likely didn’t come from the same kind of money that my family did. This whole back room probably looked like some Freemason’s secret ritual meeting site.

  Winking at her, I answered, “Yep. Anyone caught in a room he isn’t supposed to be in and his membership is automatically revoked.”

  She snorted, which was incredibly cute. “Jesus, you guys are on the honor system.”

  I pushed open the door and dragged her inside. The room was a private suite, complete with a vanity, couch, and a plush, king-sized bed that I intended to make use of.

  “You know what? I’m not even going to ask about the bed.”

  I laughed at her. “Good, because I’m not interested in talking anymore.”

  I reached for her, grabbing her upper arms, and jerked her back to me. She slammed against my hard chest, her tits pressing against me, soft and begging to be let loose. My hands went to her small waist, traveling lower to find her curvaceous, perfectly round ass. I gave her a squeeze, and she let out a small gasp.

  Her hands went around my neck and she tugged me down to her mouth. My lips fitted over hers, pressing hard. My tongue slipped out to slide against the seam of her mouth, demanding entrance.

  She offered it to me only for the sake of dueling with my tongue. We battled like it was for our lives. She tasted like olives, mint, and something I couldn’t place, but it might have been just her. Her hands clutched at my neck, then slid up into my hair, gripping the strands harshly. She was aggressive, needy, demanding. I fucking loved it.

  My hands gripped her ass tighter, lifting her up easily. She groaned into my mouth, and automatically her legs opened, settling around my hips with one long, shapely leg on either side. There was a long slit in her dress that let her do that, and the result was to expose one smooth leg, baring the skin there up to her panty line.

  Which I suddenly noticed she didn’t have. “Jesus,” I said, breaking the kiss. “You’re not wearing any fucking panties.”

  “Not with this dress,” she told me simply, then attacked my mouth again.

  If my cock hadn’t been hard up to this point—which it had; it had been hard since I’d seen her sitting at that fucking bar—it sure as hell was now. It strained at the fly of my trousers, begging release, and it was both a relief and torture to have Marnie’s core so fucking close.

  And there ain’t a scrap of material covering it, I thought. All I had to do was get through that damn dress.

  My hands roamed her back, with the bare skin there reminding me that there was no zipper. I carried her over to the bed, because I was impatient and fuck it all if she thought I was going to wait after that little bombshell.

  I threw her down onto the bed unceremoniously. She let out an oomph, then a laugh as her breasts bounced and her auburn hair sprawled out beneath her on the pillow. She looked like she belonged on one of those dirty books girls liked to read. All she needed was for her breasts to be spilling out of her top…

  And I was more than happy to help with that.

  Crawling over her, knee on either side, I reached for the shoulders of her dress, working my fingers beneath the fabric to find bare skin. Then I jerked the material down off her shoulders and down until I’d freed her large, pale breasts. Instantly I fell in love with those tits. Large, but still round and nicely shaped. Her nipples were pink, and I was pleased to see they were hard little pebbles set on the pinkest damn skin I’d ever seen. Fucking perfect.

  “Don’t just stare,” she told me, her voice thick with desire, and her eyes flashing with it. “Touch them. Play with them. I believe I was promised torture.”

  “You don’t have to twist my arm, baby.”

  I reached for her, my hands cupping her large breasts, squeezing them. She moaned as I did so, encouraging me further. Her back arched, shoving her tits farther into my hands eagerly. I grinned down at her, hungry for her pale, freckled flesh. I palmed her tits for a bit before I let my fingers slip up to her nipples. As soon as I flicked a thumb over the pebbled tips, she cried out.

  “Sensitive?” I asked, flicking them again.

  She moaned loudly and nodded her head.

  I pinched her tips between my forefinger and thumb, rolling them carefully, then squeezing them. She cried out at the movement.

  Fuck, she’s responsive, I thought.

  My cock was straining against my pants, and all I wanted to do was plunge into her balls-deep, but I’d promised her torture. Plus, her fucking tits… they were addictive.

  I leaned forward to capture a nipple in my mouth, letting my hand return to cupping her heavy flesh. I fastened my mouth around the hardened nub, getting another groan of approval. Then my tongue laved at the pebble before I sucked on it. Her hands went to my head, gripping my dark hair, holding me to her breast. I grinned into her flesh right before I caught her nipple between my teeth and worried at it.

  “Jesus,” she said, her voice strained.

  I bit her just a little, not hard enough to cause much in the way of pain, but like a pinch, just to let her know I was there. Not that she needed the reminder. My tongue instantly went over it to soothe the bite, and she writhed beneath me.

  “Fuck, are you going to take off your damn pants or what?” she demanded, half panting, and all I’d done was fondle her tits.


  I sucked once more on her nipple before pulling away. “Impatient?”

  She groaned. “Damn it, yes!”

  I chuckled a little at how demanding she was and how bad she was at waiting. But my hands went to my trousers just the same, because the truth was, I was feeling pretty damn impatient myself. I popped open the button, then slid down my zipper. My cock sprang free, hard and pulsing already, begging to plunge into her unknown.

  Marnie looked down the length of her own body to see my jutting cock. I felt her shudder beneath me and saw her lick her lips. I briefly considered offering her a mouthful, but I was too close already. I felt like I might pop if those red, red lips slipped around my dick and swallowed me.

  Fuck, but I might not get another chance.

  Check that, I wouldn’t get another chance. This would be a onetime deal. But that didn’t change the fact that I was already fit to burst, and if I came, I could shamelessly say, I wanted it to happen while I was buried in her pussy.

  I shifted on my knees, repositioning myself so that I could pull her dress free and drag it up over those lovely, impossibly long legs. Each inch of skin I exposed was another piece of flesh I wanted to touch and taste. I moved the fabric up her thighs, and when I pulled it that last stretch, bunching it around her waist, I swallowed thickly.

  Her pussy was just as pink as those nipples, and it was not only bare, but also dripping wet.

  Leaving her dress gathered around her waist, I let my hands move down. I cupped her first, and she groaned. “You’re hot and wet,” I commented, letting my finger slide along her opening, dipping just slightly between her lips to gather the moisture there. “Are you tight, too?”

  She moaned, her hips bucking up toward my hand wantonly. “You won’t know until you put something in there—got anything handy?”

  I laughed. “As a matter of fact, I do. I’ve got a couple of things to bury in you, baby. Wanna start with this?” I pushed two fingers past her lips into her hot, wet core. She gasped, then moaned as I put my fingers in to the knuckles.