The Deep End

by AM Hartnett

  Knowing that he was watching had put an end to sex at the office, and she had never really been one for bringing men home. She’d given online dating a try once upon a time, but the ads hadn’t been inspiring, and intimate encounters had never appealed to her. Life was too short to fuck a man who only wanted a damp hole to stick his dick in.

  She was dying for a fuck, but until she got her bearings she’d settle for a good ride on a new toy.

  For a couple of hours she worked only on what couldn’t wait, then slipped her Dictaphone in one ear while she waited for Caroway’s summons. She had just begun to record a second round of minutes when tall, blond and gorgeous walked through the glass doors.

  Jesus ever-loving Christ.

  The man shifted his briefcase from one hand to another and smiled down on her. ‘Simon Reeve. Hugh’s expecting me.’

  Fox indeed.

  For the first time since things had gone south with Taureau, Grace found herself getting wet at her desk.

  ‘Welcome, Mr Reeve. Mr Caroway is on a call right now, but if you have a seat I’ll just pop in and let him know you’re here.’

  Grace rose from her desk and kept one eye on him as she headed towards Caroway’s door. Rarely did she play with her boss’s direct colleagues, but she was willing to make an exception for Simon Reeve.

  He was impeccably groomed and polished. Just the sight of him fussing with his cuffs as he dropped onto the loveseat adjacent to her desk brought to mind a man who enjoyed using his hands.

  On her shoulders, maybe? In her hair? Holding her skirt around her waist with one while rubbing her through her panties with the other?

  As she stood before Caroway’s door, the sudden rush of heat turned cold.

  Was Taureau watching? Had he seen her sudden interest?

  She hated Jacques Taureau in that instant.

  Why couldn’t he have just jerked off in private and left me out of it?

  She opened Caroway’s door and nodded at him, then told Reeve it would be five minutes, long enough for Caroway to end his call, take a leak and get sorted.

  ‘How long have you been here?’ Reeve asked once she resumed her seat.

  ‘I’ve been at this desk for about four years, but with the company for close to eight.’

  ‘I’ve never seen you before.’

  There was a delicious purr to his voice that beckoned her. She tilted her head at him, and in spite of the irritating gnat of Taureau’s presence – the man who was no doubt Reeve’s direct superior – she found it easy to navigate into a pre-fuck rapport with him.

  ‘I’ve never seen you, either,’ she countered, turning her chair just enough to display the length of thigh peeping out from beneath her skirt. She wished she had worn something a little saucier underneath. She expected he was a man who appreciated stroking a bit of lace and silk between his manicured fingertips.

  ‘You’re from the Montreal office?’

  ‘I move around. I’m one of those sorry bastards who lives out of a suitcase half his life.’

  ‘You’d be surprised how many of those have sat right where you’re sitting.’

  He raised a brow. ‘Lucky them, and lucky me to have something so pretty to entertain themselves with.’

  Her smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, but she held it back and turned her attention to her keyboard. She wasn’t entirely sure whether she wanted to proceed with Reeve here, but how could she get him out of there?

  Reeve leaned forward, frowning. ‘I’m sorry. That was inappropriate of me.’

  ‘No, it’s just … you never know where there are eyes and ears in a place like this.’

  He grinned. It was a slow, luscious smile that left her tingling. ‘Gotcha. Can I convince you to go for a drink with me this evening?’

  Well, that was easy enough.

  ‘Do you do this with all the secretaries you meet, like James Bond?’ she teased.

  ‘That’s a terrible comparison, you know. All the secretaries James Bond seduces end up dead.’

  ‘How ominous.’

  ‘Don’t worry. I’m sure a select few of them live another day to tell all the girls what a bore he is in bed.’ He leaned back and draped an arm over the back of the seat. It was as though he was posing for her, and God, did he ever do it well. ‘Do I have you? For drinks, that is. Lady’s choice.’

  I shouldn’t. I really shouldn’t, at least not with him.

  Then again, who could blame her? Not even Taureau, who had watched her play this game a half a dozen times.

  ‘I know a little wine bar around the corner. We can start there, and then we’ll see where the night takes us.’ She glanced down at the phone and saw that Caroway’s line was free. ‘You should be able to go in now.’

  Reeve stood and once more smoothed himself out, his grin twisting into something roguish and sinful. ‘I’ll let you lead … I’m sorry, what’s your name?’

  ‘Grace Neely.’

  ‘Grace,’ he said slowly, as though trying out the moniker on his tongue. ‘I look forward to it.’

  ‘So do I,’ she said, and once he’d disappeared into the office muttered, ‘You have no idea how much, Mr Reeve.’

  The back of her neck began to prickle, and she convinced herself it was just her imagination.

  * * *

  The bar was perfect, for now.

  Only a few patrons enjoyed the European menu. She and Reeve had eaten at the office hours ago when Caroway announced that he needed a break before he started to gnaw the furniture. Now there was just weak coffee and tea and the wait for one of them to pull the trigger.

  She was ticklish with wondering how this flirtation would unravel. It was interesting that he had chosen to be so close rather than sitting opposite her. She liked it, and she liked carrying out this flirtation outside of the office.

  ‘You have no one waiting for you?’ he asked once he’d ordered a second cup. Grace would have liked a glass of wine, but she wouldn’t order if she was drinking alone. She’d already decided she wanted to take him home with her. Hotel sex had its moments, but given a choice she’d take her own bed over one with a questionable past.

  She ignored the reminder of Taureau asking a similar question, pushed it deep down and smiled at Reeve. ‘You think I could keep someone around with these hours?’

  ‘I would have thought you’d have an easy time keeping someone at your beck and call, on their knees like a good boy.’

  Beneath the table she slipped out of her shoes and curled her toes in delight. ‘Smooth, Reeve.’

  ‘Call me Simon.’

  She shook her head. ‘I can never call men I work with by their first names. I don’t know what it is, but it’s a habit I can’t break myself of. Mr Caroway. Mr Andrews. Mr Staples.’

  Mr Taureau.

  ‘I won’t have you calling me Mr Reeve, so I’ll settle for Reeve.’

  Grace shrugged as she lifted her cup to her lips. ‘I can’t promise that Mr won’t slip out at some point.’

  Reeve chuckled. ‘I’m trying to be a gentleman here, but I wouldn’t mind one bit. I love how you say it, from the back of your throat, like it gets you wet to put me in my place.’

  Warmth flooded her as she took a sip, and as he slipped a hand under the table and squeezed her thigh she swallowed quickly to stifle a moan.

  She cleared her throat and said, ‘You don’t fuck around, do you?’

  ‘Why should I? The second I walked in I knew you were going to make this trip worth my while. I would have had you in that boardroom when we broke if you hadn’t bolted off so quickly.’ Reeve held her gaze as he slid his hand upward, then raised a brow when he brushed her damp panties. ‘Perhaps I should have been more persistent.’

  ‘I don’t mess around in the office,’ she lied, and opened her legs a little more for him.

  Reeve scooted closer and slipped his fingers under the wet band of fabric. ‘What about here? Would you let me get you off here?’

  He toyed with her clit, h
is forefinger and thumb pinching a little. Grace jolted at the sudden pulse, then clipped her legs shut.

  ‘Normally I’d say yes, but I don’t think I can be quiet.’

  ‘You like to make a lot of noise?’

  She laughed. ‘I’ve been known to scream. I like to talk, when my mouth isn’t full.’

  He groaned. ‘And I don’t think my hard-on is going anywhere now.’

  Reeve wriggled his hand free of her grip. Grace could have died when he lifted his glossy finger to his mouth and licked it clean.

  He grinned and took her hand. ‘My hotel is a decent cab ride from here, and I believe the office is empty now.’

  ‘I told you, I don’t fuck at the office. Let’s go to my place.’

  They doubled back to the office long enough to collect her SUV from the parking garage, during which neither she nor Reeve spoke and they kept their hands to themselves. Every step through the lobby of her building invigorated her. That familiar red-hot thrill ran through her, the one that could only presage a night with man between her thighs.

  Reeve trailed behind her with that sexy stroll. Every time she glanced over her shoulder he rewarded her with the most naughty fucking gaze full of promise.

  At the elevator he pressed close, firm hands on her hips as he made the extent of his arousal known through the layers of clothes.

  ‘Ever fucked in this elevator?’

  ‘Not fucked, but I have given a blowjob.’ She turned, grasped his lapels and pulled him until her back was to the wall and he ground against her. She tipped her head back, inviting, and with his lips against hers she murmured, ‘I’d love to get my knees dirty for you.’

  ‘And I’d love to get that pretty mouth dirty.’ His hand wormed between them, bunching the hem of her skirt and lifting it until he could slip between her thighs. Grace squirmed as he rubbed his knuckles above her clit. With every bump her breath stuttered, and she could have screamed when the elevator doors opened.

  She hauled him inside with her and jabbed the button for the eighth floor. Her attempt to get to his fly was thwarted when he reached around, cupped her ass, and lifted her.

  She locked her ankles around his waist and giggled as he thrust against her. The hard mouth of his zipper pushed taut by his erection took over from his fingers. ‘I thought you wanted to get my pretty mouth dirty.’

  ‘Oh, I will, but I want a good look to see how horny you are.’

  Grace pushed her fingers through his thick hair as he lowered his mouth to her neck and scraped his teeth along the slope. The sharp nip was accompanied by the pinch of his fingertips in her ass. She dug her nails into his scalp and half-moaned, half-laughed as the perfect mix of pleasure and pain went through her.

  ‘Fuck me,’ she hissed, and yanked at him until his mouth was on hers. ‘There’s a condom in my purse. Fuck me right here, right now.’

  He darted his tongue against hers. ‘We’re almost there. If you can wait for me to wrap my dick, you can wait until I have you in bed.’

  ‘You keep grinding on me like that and I might cream my panties before you have a chance to do anything.’

  ‘Then I’ll just have to get you worked up all over again.’

  She groaned and rolled her eyes up towards the numbers above the door. It seemed to take for ever for each number to go dim and the next to light up.

  God, I almost forgot how good this is, she thought, and immediately regretted it as the remembrance of why she had been on a dry spell broke through her fever. She shoved it away, then pushed down on the back of his head until his mouth crushed hers.

  The door finally chimed open on the eighth floor and he whirled around and carried her into the hall. He crushed her against the wall, working his hips fast now to torture her with the friction of his zipper against her drenched panties. His tongue fucked in and out of her mouth in a hot promise of things to come.

  ‘OK, stop, stop, I need to unlock the fucking door.’

  He didn’t let her go easy. His grip loosed just enough for her to slip away from him, shuddering through a delicious throb as her pussy slid along the hard bulge. Her hands shook as she dug into her purse and felt around for keys. She put everything she had into unlocking the door. As soon as she was over the threshold she stripped off her coat and turned. ‘Lock the door. Bolt it. Neither one of us is leaving for a very long time.’

  He came at her with a low growl. She evaded him with a laugh, hopped out of her shoes and led the way to her bedroom. She hit the lights and jumped on the bed.

  ‘Come have your look,’ she said, grinning down on him as she reached beneath her skirt and hooked her thumbs into her panties.

  Reeve shrugged out of his coat and freed his tie, his eyes hungry as she shoved the damp fabric to her ankles. She kicked them off and dropped to her knees, licking her lips as she pulled her skirt higher.

  ‘A little higher,’ he urged, and she practically gushed as he wrapped the length of his tie around his hands.

  ‘Are you going to tie me up and have your way with me?’

  ‘If you’d like, but I was hoping you’d tie me down.’ He pulled the tie taut and his gaze dropped between her legs. ‘Show me.’

  She wriggled until her skirt bunched up over her hips. The touch of his tongue to his upper lip sent a pulse through her. She arched back and slipped a hand between her legs.

  She jumped as a high shriek filled the room. She scowled at the phone by her bedside. ‘Just ignore it.’

  Reeve stepped forward. He tossed the tie onto the bed and reached lower.

  Grace’s thighs trembled as he ran his finger through the wet heat of her pussy, and she gasped as he crooked his finger into her slippery passage. He withdrew and circled the dripping mouth with such a light touch she shook all over.

  Still, the phone trilled on and on. Grace tilted her head back with a frustrated laugh, but the sound turned to a moan as he penetrated her again, this time flexing two fingers to stretch her.

  Relief went through her as the phone finally went to voicemail. She said a silent prayer of thanks and sank down onto Reeve’s fingers.

  ‘Open up for me.’ He thrust up to the knuckle, and the tips of his fingers hit the sweet spot. Grace moaned and crossed her wrist with his. Bobbing up and down to ride his fingers, she worked his fly, ready for something much bigger to fill her up.

  The phone started again and she groaned in frustration and abandoned her task. ‘Can you give me a second to unplug that? It’s hard to enjoy this with that thing ringing.’

  Reeve leaned in and swiped his tongue along her bottom lip. ‘I think you should answer it.’

  ‘It’s not important. Trust me, nothing is as important as this.’

  His hand went still. He placed his other hand on her waist and clenched down. ‘It’s late. It’s probably important.’

  Grace stared back at him, the urge to laugh and scream and cry gathering like a storm cloud in her chest. She groaned and backed away from him on her knees. Stretching across the bed for the phone, she vowed that nothing short of the violent death of a loved one would stop her ripping the damn jack out of the wall.

  ‘You might as well get undressed while you’re waiting, unless you want to risk getting maimed when I tear your clothes off with my teeth.’

  She lifted the handset from the base and held it to her ear, then barked out a greeting.

  There was a pause at the other end, but she could hear breathing. Grace was on the verge of snarling at whoever it was when the words came.

  ‘Is my fuck fairy treating you well?’

  With Taureau’s craggy voice cutting her open, Grace vaulted off the bed. She jerked her head at Reeve, signalling him to wait, then darted from the bedroom to the bathroom.

  ‘Are you fucking kidding me?’ she hissed, locking the door behind her. ‘Calling me at home?’

  ‘I was expecting to do this at the office, but you were persistent about going back to your apartment, so you left me no choice.’

 
Grace sank down on the toilet seat and buried her face in her free hand.

  ‘You need to stop watching me, Jacques. You need to stop listening. I … I brought him here so you wouldn’t have to watch me, and –’

  ‘Whatever gave you the impression that I didn’t want to watch any more?’

  His words were carried on a groan, followed by a sharp intake of breath. She knew the sounds he made. She knew he rubbed himself through his clothes.

  She gritted her teeth and squeezed her legs together.

  I’m not doing this. I’m not locked in my bathroom talking to a man who doesn’t want me, when there’s one hard and ready for a fuck in my bed.

  Sucking in a deep breath, she straightened and steeled herself. ‘I’m hanging up now, and I’m turning off the phone. If you want to breathe heavy at my voicemail, be my guest. I have to go.

  ‘You didn’t answer my question, Grace,’ he went on. ‘Is my fuck fairy treating you well?’

  She growled and stood. ‘You haven’t left me anything in weeks.’

  Taureau’s rumbling laugh taunted her. ‘Haven’t I?’

  Beyond the door came a shuffling sound, something skimming against the carpet. She grasped the handle and turned it, but his next words froze her in place.

  ‘In all the years I’ve known him, Simon Reeve has never been able to say no to a bit of homework that involves getting his hands dirty. He happily upgraded from shopping for your toys to becoming one.’

  Through the sounds of sirens in her ears, Grace heard the far-off sound of a ringing phone.

  Her hand cold and tingling, Grace pulled open the door and went through the shadows into the bedroom. Reeve stood before her dresser, stripped of his shirt and shoes. He had brought her laptop in from the living room and placed it on the dresser at the foot of her bed.

  At her entry, he slid the screen towards her. A video-chatting program was open, with an incoming call from JAT.

  ‘Answer my call, Grace,’ Taureau said, and then the line went dead.