Hours later I hang up the phone with Jennifer Stringer, the owner of the largest independently owned fabric distributor in the legendary New York garment district. She was thrilled with Andrew’s findings and eager to pour fifty thousand more into the current advertising campaign. We helped to increase her business twenty percent in the last three months. Satisfaction for a job well done warms me, filling me with a sense of completeness like no encounter with a man ever has.
A sigh escapes as I relax into my chair. Damn, talk about a long week. It’s Friday and after five. I stifle the urge to chant TGIF and log off my computer, eager to shake the stresses of the week from my shoulders.
IMs flew around the office ten minutes ago and people are gearing up to meet at the bar down the block for drinks. I freshen my lipstick, straighten my desk, and grab my bag. Andrew stands the same moment I do and our eyes meet across the cubical walls. “Are you going tonight?” I ask him.
Interest lights his eyes. “Yup.”
He runs a hand through his short brown hair, the gesture making him appear more confident. Too bad he’s boring, he’s almost handsome. “Great, I owe you a drink for that tidbit you shared after lunch.”
A small smile turns up his mouth as he walks down the opposite aisle toward the door. “Just one? Could have sworn my ‘tidbit’ helped you make your monthly quota a week early.”
I laugh at his ballsiness. “Maybe I’ll buy you two. But don’t get your hopes up.”
A spark ignites in his blue depths as his gaze travels up and down my length. An awareness tingles through me and I can’t deny, he looks different, somehow. He’s only a few inches taller than I am in heels, which makes him a couple of inches shy of six-foot. His shirtsleeves are rolled up to reveal corded forearms with a light dusting of hair. With warm heat banked in his gaze, his average looks jump a thousand points.
I brush off the sudden interest spiking in my gut. I can’t let an office romance begin to brew. I told Heather I wasn’t doing any of the things she accused me of. No matter how much I might wish otherwise, I highly doubt a co-worker with benefits is much different than the friends with benefits on her sheet.
As a large boisterous group of our co-workers join us in the elevator, I resolve to steer clear of any temptation offered by Andrew at the bar. No way in the world could he be a good match for me.
Chapter Two
Andrew
Bodies press against Carla, shoving her closer to the bar as she tries to leave the stool. I reach out an arm to protect her from the worst of the crush. “Carla, let me see you home. You shouldn’t make your way alone.”
Her buzzed smile and feeling-no-pain expression is a sure sign we should have had dinner when the bartender offered menus an hour ago.
“No worries, Andy. I’m good.” She stumbles and lands face first against the broad chest of a nearby guy. The grin on his face shows he’s not angry at her slip.
“My…you’re big,” she says while pushing blond bangs out of her face. “Want to help me get a cab?”
Anger boils close to the surface at the mere thought of the curvy blonde going home with this meathead. I will not stand here and let her make a poor choice when she’s been drinking. The large man opens his mouth to respond, then catches sight of what I hope is a nasty look on my face. His smile dims as he looks back to Carla. “Maybe next time, sweetheart.”
I nod my thanks while trying to steer my more than tipsy co-worker out of our company’s favorite after-work bar.
“But, Andy,” she whines, “he looked hot. Lemme get his number.”
I take a firm hold on her arm and gently maneuver her toward the door. “You’ll thank me later.”
The cool late spring air smacks us, jolting me with a much-needed surge of energy. Hopefully, it will have the same affect on Carla. “But, he looks like a real man,” she says, with a pointed look my way.
I ignore the brush of annoyance I feel at her implication I’m not a real man. Where the hell is her aggravation coming from? “Yeah, and I’m sure he’ll call you in the morning, too.”
“That’s not fair, Andy. The guy I picked up two months ago called me.”
I hail a taxi and pour us inside.
“But he turned out to be dumb.” She snorts at a memory while I tell the cabbie her address. In the ensuing silence she whispers, “Couldn’t even find my clit.”
I resist shaking her for her stupid actions. I know firsthand she has a solid mind and a sharp wit. It’s the alcohol getting to her, and it’s getting to me, too. The mere mention of sex has parts of me growing in my suit pants. She settles snug against my side, hugging my arm. “Whoa, Andy. You have some serious muscles here. Have you been working out?”
Her grasping fingers massage my bicep through my jacket. “I’ve always worked out.” I pry away her grip then she squeals and aims to tickle me. Bad move. Her quick hands graze my expanding arousal and she freezes.
“Andy! Do you want me?” A wisp of longing sounds in her voice.
I suppress the sigh aching to burst forth. I’ve wanted Carla from the moment we teamed up on the Stringer account six months ago, but needed to wait for the right time to approach her. And partially drunk is not the right time. “Carla, let’s just get you home. We’ve both been drinking and I don’t want to do anything we may regret later.”
She nips playfully at my ear. “How could I possibly regret fooling around with you? We could be friends with benefits. Wouldn’t that be cool?”
“While the idea sounds excellent, I’m not so sure it ever works.”
“Oh, come on. You’re starting to sound like my friend, Heather. I like sex… it’s fun. It never hurt anyone.” Her previously frozen hand strokes my erection through the fabric.
Dear God, are we almost to her building? I need to get her off me and out of this cab before I come in my pants.
“We could make it work, Andy. Despite what Heather says.” She pulls her hand from my erection and turns my face to hers for a kiss, moisture gleaming in her eyes. “We could try.”
Excitement courses through me. Her breath smells sweetly of white wine and I want nothing more than to crush my mouth to hers and devour her whole. Energy seems to leap from my lips to hers as I lean in, succumbing to the raging desire to possess her.
The taxi lurches to a stop, jerking us toward the front of the cab, breaking the spell a moment before our lips touch. The fog of lust clears from my mind and I want to ask about Heather and what she may have said to upset Carla, but instead I fish out the cash to pay the driver.
I impulsively decide to walk her to her door. Maybe we could make this work. I admit I want more from her and this night of fun might be a good place to start.
She grabs my hand and playfully drags me past her doorman. I nod at the man, feeling a shit-eating grin spread across my features. “Come on, Andy,” she loudly whispers, her voice carrying easily across the lobby, “let’s have dinner at my place.”
The walk through the lobby doesn’t cool our previous heat and the moment the elevator doors whisk shut, Carla is on me like a tick on a dog. Her full mouth crushes mine and manicured nails rake through my hair. Instantly, my erection surges, pressing against my zipper, straining to get closer to this sexy woman.
I pull back from the intense kiss and mutter, “What floor?”
“Nineteen.” She gasps and locks her mouth to mine again. I press the button and the car ascends.
“God, Andy, I’m so freakin’ hot right now.” She thrusts her hips to mine, grinding against my hardness. “Want to do it here in the elevator?”
I wrap my hands around her hips and leverage her slightly away from the front of my pants. “As good as that sounds, I don’t think we should.”
“Pfff… you’re no fun, Andy.” She reaches for my zipper and has my cock in her hot little hand before I can grab her wrist. “Ohh… but this looks like it could lead to a lot of fun.”
The elevator pings and I jerk in surprise. The doors slide open ten
floors shy of her level. Panic surges and I wrap my arms around my curvy, drunken co–worker, pinning her to me—not wanting the older man in workout gear who just stepped into the car to see me hanging out of my pants.
He glances at us, hits the button next to the word “Gym”, then stands on the far side.
Carla giggles, but thankfully shoves my cock into my pants and then yanks up the zipper. The rasp of metal on metal brings a sharp look from the man, but his head whips around to face straight ahead.
We finally arrive at Carla’s floor and rush off the elevator. Adrenaline floods my body and I swear, if she asks, I’m going to follow her in and screw this horny woman senseless.
“Andy?” Carla asks, a hopeful note in her tone. “Want to come in?”
Tension I didn’t know I was holding eases out of me. I move behind her while she jiggles her key into the lock and wrap myself around her slight frame. Planting kisses along her neck, I give the only answer my fired up body will allow. “I’d love to.”
When the door closes behind us, it’s a mad dash to see who can get their clothes off faster. Glimpses of black underwear and toned limbs whir through my alcohol fogged brain.
Carla giggles while stumbling to her bedroom. She switches on the bedside light and tosses me what she must think is a sexy smile, but looks more like a slight sneer. “Come and get me, Mr. Super Accountant.”
I hesitate in the doorway. Parts of me rage to barrel forward and take her up on her offer before she changes her mind, but my big head gets the best of me. “Are you sure, Carla? You want to take this step?”
She reaches between her legs and starts to touch herself. “If you aren’t interested, I’ll handle things on my own.” I approach the bed, determination firming my mouth. “Good boy, I knew you’d come around.”
Climbing across the mattress, I crawl on hands and knees to cover her lithe form. Her hips thrust up to meet mine while grasping hands pull me down. “Now, Andy. I want you now.”
“Whoa, slow down. We need protection.”
“You’re right.” Giggling again, she twists to the side, then reaches into the nightstand drawer to pull out a small foil square. Carla tears it with her teeth, her face scrunching up. “Ewww… spermicide tastes like crap.”
Taking the torn package from her, I remove the latex and sheath myself as fast as possible.
“Get it in, get it in, get it in…” she chants. I position myself at her entrance, wishing we’d slowed down a little bit. Her hips push forward as she impales herself on my length. “Oh…” she moans as I finish the first stroke in, burying deep inside, “that’s right.”
The orders start flying before I have a chance to slow her down: “Faster!” “Harder!” “Slam it in me!”
Thrusting my hips in a frenzy, I try to fulfill each request the second it’s uttered. The hot, inner muscles of her body encircle my length, and the speed combines with my buzz to push me toward the finish before I’d like.
“I’m close, Carla. I need to slow down.”
“No! More! Do me harder!”
Nails rake along my spine and hot hands grab my ass, pulling me closer despite my desire to wait. Her feet splay on the bed, pushing up her hips to pump me when I hold back.
The sensations overwhelm my control and my orgasm steams past the gates. A loud moan spills from my mouth. I try to keep up the pace a little longer, hoping to bring her as well. “Are you close?”
But Carla’s quiet. A glance reveals her eyelids are drifting closed, and I can feel her hips have stopped moving. “Carla?”
“Umm?”
“Did you come?”
“Are we done?” She yawns. “Gosh, I’m sleepy.”
I roll to the side, snatching some tissues to clean up. This may have been a very bad idea. She doesn’t seem to be aware I came. “Carla?” I say, fitting my body snug against her back. “Would you like to feel my mouth? Or my hand?”
“Nah, ‘s all good,” she slurs while turning onto her side to pillow an arm under her cheek.
Her breathing deepens and I’m left wondering what the hell to do. That was singularly the worst orgasm, if any orgasm could be bad, I’ve ever had. She wasn’t even experiencing the act with me—more like ordering, using, and then losing interest.
“Don’t worry, Andy,” she says softly. “It was tolerable.”
Tolerable? Did she just call our sex tolerable? I roll away to stare at the ceiling. Shit. I may have blown my one and only chance with her. Maybe I should bring her around with my hand? It’s only half past eight; she can’t be that tired yet.
Resting a hand on her hip, I savor the smooth softness of her skin. “Carla, honey. Wake up.” A small mew escapes her and her hips rock in a slight movement. Feeling emboldened by her response, I smack her hip lightly.
“Hey! I was getting comfy.” She glances over her shoulder at me. “You can go now.”
The dismissive tone surprises me. “I don’t think so. You haven’t had your turn.” I ease closer to rest against her back while sliding my fingers inward, toward her belly button.
Her bottom leg pressing to the bed lies straight while the top one rests bent at the knee and cocked forward, allowing room to ease down between her slick folds. Her tiny clit still feels aroused, when I flick it softly she moans.
I slide my fingers to bracket the aroused peak, slowly stroking the heated skin next to her clit, mindful of how sensitive the engorged flesh may be. The swollen lips of her sex hug the contours of my thick fingers, causing my cock to stir against her ass.
Keeping my pressure light, I force my pace to stay unhurried. The idea is to build her slowly and then drive her to a huge orgasm. The wet scent of her fills the air and her musky aroma wraps around me.
“Oh….” she whispers while tossing her head on the pillow. Her bare neck lures me and I bow to plant kisses along its length. “Mmm….” Sensing a shift in her, I tilt away allowing her to roll onto her back. Her hard nipples point to the ceiling and her legs spread for easier access.
Carla’s eyes are at half-mast, but her movements encourage me to continue. Propped on an elbow, I lean over to capture one peak in my mouth. Laving it with my tongue, a thrill zips through me when she arches to press herself deeper between my lips.
A sigh escapes her and she softly utters, “Johnny…”
“Excuse me?” I don’t know who this dream lover is, but I don’t intend to stop over a stranger’s name. Within a few moments her movements become more energetic, hips gyrating in small tight circles on the bed, her head lashing side to side.
Her eyes snap open and she locks on my face. “Oh, God. Andy, your fingers feel so good.”
Her eyes drift back down. I intend to give her pleasure however I can, as long as she’s not saying no. Sucking one nipple in deep, I nibble the surrounding flesh.
Circling her clit in soft, delicate strokes leaves Carla gulping for breath while her muscles tense. I pull my fingers away from her clit and skim her inner thighs, hoping to make her relax and stop chasing the feelings.
Two or three breaths later she calms down, thrashing less and not holding herself as tight. Reaching to her slit I run two fingers along her wetness, coating them in her arousal. I tickle at her opening to see if I should proceed, when a sexy whimper full of want bubbles from her mouth.
Needing no more proof, I plunge the digits deep and curve them upward, seeking the squishy spot at the top front. Carla arches off the bed, dislodging my mouth from her nipple. I sit up and reach my other hand over to massage her clit again.
“Yes! Yes, just like that!”
Pinching the aroused flesh between my thumb and forefinger, I squeeze lightly, timing her peak. Moisture pours over the fingers lodged inside her as I circle her g-spot, and the moment is right to push her over the finish line.
Carla’s eyes open again and she locks onto me, “Andy! Oh my God, I’m gonna come!”
Switching from pinching, I rub her clit hard, steam-rolling past her previous tensi
on in a rocket of sensations. She screams into the dimly lit room and convulses around my hands. Wave after wave of her orgasm washes over her body—a sheer beauty to behold. Especially knowing I gave it to her.
As she quiets, I pull the covers over us and snuggle next to her. She rests her head on my shoulder and I whisper into the darkness, “Was that more than tolerable, Carla?”
“Mmmm…,” she says while drifting into sleep.
Chapter Three
Carla
My growling stomach wakes me. When I realize Andrew is still in my bed, an uncomfortable queasiness overshadows the missed meal. Holy hell, what was I thinking? Heather’s crazy list at the coffee shop flashes across my mind. She specifically said no friends with benefits.
Ugh. Isn’t that exactly what I’ve done again, only this time with a co-worker? What the devil was I thinking?
The HR department sent around another reminder about the company’s non-dating policy in the office last month. Having never dated a co-worker at this place, it didn’t apply to me.
Dated? Ha! You just freakin’ slept with the guy.
A shudder hits me hard. Maybe I did cross a line last night. I scoot from under Andy’s arm, hopeful I can slip on a robe before he wakes.
No such luck, the second his arm hits the mattress he’s alert. “Hey. Where you going?”
I grab the robe hanging on the back of the bathroom door and quickly pull it on. Evidence of our haste to get at each other lays scattered across the room in haphazard droppings of clothes. Andrew’s pants lay in a heap and his shirt drapes across the bottom of the bed.
I gather his things into a pile, placing them within his reach.
“Want to get dinner?” he asks, a small, shy smile on his face. “Or maybe order in?”
The knot in my stomach lurches and I force myself to take a deep breath. “This was a mistake.”
His face freezes. “What?”
I look toward the door, fidgeting with my robe tie. “It’s late. You need to leave. My mom is visiting in the morning.”
Contemporary Nights Volume One Page 2
