“For an Ivy Leaguer, you’re kinda clueless.” I shook my head. “Did you really go to Yale?”
“I really did.”
“The reason being is that you should have your properties photographed as you have them completed. It will be good visibility. In fact, someone in your PR department should line up an interview for a feature in a few publications.”
Smiling, he leaned back in his chair. “Well, look at you, and here you thought that you’re underqualified for this position. I’m going to remind you once more that you are completely qualified. More impressive are your brilliant marketing strategies, and that is something that I didn’t see on your resume.”
“I wouldn’t say brilliant. It’s basic marketing one-oh-one.”
“Perhaps, but I think it just proves that you should take the job that I am offering,” he said, taking my hands in his. “Don’t overthink it and don’t stress the things you can’t control.”
There was no use in fighting him any longer. With those dangerous blue eyes of his staring at me, it was hard to say no. “Okay.”
“Okay? Really, are you really saying yes?”
“I still think this is a terrible idea, but I’m willing to give it a try.”
“Maybe you should just trust me, my instincts are never wrong.”
“Never wrong, huh?”
“Never.”
“If I screw up, you’ll have no one to blame but yourself.”
“Oh, you’ll definitely be screwing—me.” He pulled me onto his lap, his warm breath fanned over my ear, and his fingertips inched up my thighs. “Your body is your own, but when you’re in my bed it belongs to me.” His gravelly voice was filled with promise. My thighs pressed together at the sudden rush of heat.
“You’re staking your claim?” I teased, recalling our alpha male conversation from our first date at Hokaido Grill.
His nose grazed my cheek. “Spread your legs and I’ll show you.”
My hands pushed beneath his t-shirt. “If you promise me, no one gets to have your body, but me.”
“All of this is yours, and only yours. That I can promise, Stevie.”
His words soothed me. I was old enough to realize the difference between sex and fucking. Fucking was just an itch that needed scratching. Sex was something reminiscent of a craving—a want, multiple times over. At this point I was ready to explore all facets with Jax, and I had no desire, no want for anyone, but him.
Propping myself up onto my forearms, I gazed out at the ocean—not a soul in sight. Part of me wondered if perhaps Jax brokered some deal with the coast guard to keep every sailboat, ski boat, and yacht off the water today. The tips of his fingers brushed over the small of my back and I shivered.
“I don’t know if I can stay naked for much longer, it’s a little breezy for my liking.” I pointed to the goosebumps decorating my arm.
He levered onto his side and continued trailing his fingers along my skin. “But, I really like you naked.”
“I like you naked, too,” I admitted, although he wasn’t naked at the present moment. My eyes trained on the deep lines of his torso, I studied them as closely as a Ritchie Allen Benson watercolor.
I shifted closer to him. “Tell me about Yale.”
“What do you want to know exactly?” he asked, the pad of his thumb stroking over my nipple.
“I want to know your story, the in depth details that I can’t read about online or in the company manual.”
“I studied International Business at Florida International University, and then there was Yale Business School. And that is about it.”
“Unless you want me asking twenty questions, you better start filling in the gaps.”
“Undergrad was typical college theatrics—parties, studying, long hours at the library and study labs, more parties. Yale was an experience, and I loved every minute of my time there.”
“Did you have a job or anything while in school?”
“Not exactly.”
“I had to work at the country club and then I was able to land a job at a local art gallery during my senior year. I really loved working there.”
“Where was the art gallery?” he asked, brushing his knuckles up my arm.
“No redirecting the conversation. Answer now.”
Smiling, his fingers tugged at the loose ends of my hair. “Me and a buddy, we organized poker nights. Tuesday nights started as friendly games. At first, the bets were low. Usually, it was a small group of us gambling away a few hundred dollars here and there. We changed the location each week to keep it secret.”
“Sounds like a lot of work.”
“At times it was, but after we got in the groove of things, it became easier. The future CEO’s and Wall Street brokers became regulars and then we knew we had to start charging more.”
“What was the buy in?”
“It started at a thousand dollars on Tuesday nights and on the weekends it was ten-thousand. Over the years the buy ins went up.”
The chill of the wind kicked up, and I snuggled into his side for warmth. Leaning up, Jax grabbed one of the throws from the chaise. I shifted upright shielding my naked body from the world.
“Come here, let’s get you warmed up.”
I leaned against his back, and he engulfed the two of us in the blanket. “With all that money, is that how you were able to buy and build your hotels?”
“Uh huh,” he whispered into my hair, as his hands rubbed my arms.
I attempted to open my mouth to ask another question, but when Jax’s fingers drifted along my ribcage I closed my eyes. His heart beat against my back filling me with the most amazing sensation. Right now, it was the two of us and the whole world failed to exist. Monday would be a different story. This man, Jackson Hart, would officially be my boss.
In his arms—I wanted to stay like this forever, as if that was even an option. But, I knew I could enjoy this moment a little while longer.
“In case I didn’t mention it at any point, I’ve had a really wonderful time with you, Jax.”
He whispered into my ear, “Me too, it’s been . . . perfect.”
Yeah, I would say the same thing, but I didn’t.
DO NOT PICTURE HIM SHIRTLESS. Do not picture him naked.
I sat in the large conference room listening to Eric, the head of finance for Hart Hotels, discuss the specifics of the acquisition for the Maddox Hotel in London.
Distracted, completely distracted. It wasn’t Eric that I needed to keep from picturing naked, obviously. My mind was on the weekend replaying a slideshow of images—Jax’s naked body above me, thrusting into me and his mouth on mine.
I was hyperaware of Jax’s presence. How could I not be?
I’d spent the majority of the morning in meetings with him staring at the curve of his mouth, his hair and his eyes, and every time that he picked up a pen I couldn’t help remembering his hands all over me.
Being this close to him, I was afraid everyone in the room could read me as easily as the portfolio in front of us. Could they sense that I had been screwing Jax’s brains out?
After we docked on Saturday afternoon he asked me to spend the rest of the weekend with him and I declined. I actually said no. That should have earned me a medal of achievement. Resisting Jax was seemingly impossible.
Instead of spending the night in his bed, I was in a warm bath and then in my own bed with a heating pad on my ass and thighs. The combination of ibuprofen and two shots of tequila temporarily erased the after effects of having sex with Jax.
Now I sat here pressing my thighs together, as if that would somehow quell the desire I had for all these people to leave and for Jax to lock the door, lower the blinds and bend me over this table. Within a matter of days, he’d managed to turn me into this woman—achy, needy . . . horny. Any way you sliced it at the end of the day, I wanted him twice . . . thrice as much as I had previously and he was my boss.
Screwing the boss. Yep, that would be the title of my memoir.
My hands shook as I lifted the bottle of water to my mouth. I needed some air and now.
“That wraps up the meeting. Does anyone have any questions?”
At that point I had completely tuned out and gathered up my belongings, shoving my notepad and the file folder into my bag. Once I saw Sharon, the VP of Human Resources, exit the room I followed suit.
My legs carried me down the hallway, past several conference rooms. Where was the elevator bank? As I turned on my heel, I saw Jax standing there with his hands in the pockets of his dress pants looking delicious as ever.
“The elevators are this way,” he said, giving a nod. For a long moment, his eyes locked on mine. My cheeks and neck flushed as those illicit thoughts surfaced—lean muscles, chiseled abs, his narrow waist. My body betrayed me with every step I took, inching ever closer to him.
Giving a tight smile, I walked past him.
“How are you enjoying your first day, Stevie?”
“It’s going well, Mister Hart,” I replied, keeping my pace.
I turned the corner, expelling a deep breath as I pressed the down arrow. My eyes landed on the floor, and I studied the patterns on the carpet in an effort to direct my thoughts of going back and pushing Jax up against the wall and ravaging his mouth with mine.
“Fuck me,” I muttered.
“Are you offering?” he asked, coming up to stand behind me. The rich sound of his husky voice slid through my veins charging every nerve and cell in my body. He was so close to me smelling perfectly divine. My lips parted and my nipples hardened against the soft fabric of my bra.
“Because if you are,” he rasped, in my ear. “I’d graciously take you up on that offer.”
I barely registered the sound of the elevator’s arrival. The shiny chrome doors parted and I heaved myself inside. Jax stepped on, and then pressed the button for the twenty-first floor. Heat prickled across my skin and all my thoughts ran away from me.
“Relax, Stevie, I’m not going to fuck you in the elevator.”
“But you intend to fuck me at some point today?”
His mouth pressed into a hardline as he pulled his phone from the inside of his jacket pocket. I studied him watching as his fingers flew across the screen. Impressive, this man was certainly a multitasker. Taking care of business, all the while making me incredibly wet. The car stopped and the doors opened. I stepped out in a rush and Jax followed keeping his pace in step with my own.
I’d like to say I was surprised when I felt his hand wrap around my arm and led me into his office. I was even less surprised when he closed the door and locked it. My heart galloped in my chest when he pinned his dreamy blue eyes on me.
“The answer to your question is yes, I intend to fuck you today.”
My resolve to stay away from Stevie lasted longer than I expected—a full five hours.
Impressive.
Today for her first day of work she wore the same dress she’d worn the night we took the cooking class. When Carol brought her into my office, my dick rose to attention. The dress taunted me all through the morning, teasing me with the memory of her body—every beautiful inch of her curves that I had previously explored with my mouth and my hands. I’d been half hard just sitting across the table from her.
It took only a few steps to sweep her into my arms pressing my lips to hers.
“This . . . this is a very bad idea.” Her voice was breathy, expressing need despite the words she’d spoken.
I took her bag and dropped it into a chair near my desk. My hands tangled in her hair as I kissed her lips again.
“I need you. I’m going out of my mind seeing you in this dress again.”
I reached between us, taking her hand and pressing it against my cock. She moaned licking her lips. Any fucking sanity I had took a flying leap out the window. There was only one thing I wanted and I was certain she wanted it too.
“Tell me what you want,” I prompted. My fingers dug into her hips, and she rocked forward rubbing herself against me.
“Did you wear this dress for me?”
Instead of waiting for an answer I crushed my lips to hers. Sliding my tongue into her mouth, I deepened our kiss.
“Jax, we shouldn’t—ah,” she purred, when my fingers teased along the edge of her panties.
“Tell me that you touched yourself yesterday wishing it was my tongue on your clit, my mouth wrapped around your nipple as my cock pounded into you making you come.”
I stroked her back and forth and then slipped my fingers inside her, relishing the soft little gasps that fell from her lips. Christ. She was hot and wet. “All morning I wondered if you were wet like this, for me. All for me.”
I worked a third finger inside her, my thumb ghosted over her clit. Her eyes met mine they were hazy, brimming with lust.
“Yes, I can’t think . . . you drive me crazy.”
“And?”
“Yes, all for you. I’m wet for you.”
“Good.”
Blood rushed through my head and my dick like a steam engine barreling full speed. My fingers left her body, and her head fell forward. With a quick movement I spun her around, and her palms slapped against my desk. Inching her skirt up over her hips, the view of red cotton nylon reminded me to gift her with fine silk and lace.
Dropping to my knees, the desire within me grew. My hands stroked up and down her slim legs as I envisioned them encased in varying designs of thigh-highs. With her panties now balled up on the floor, I rose to my feet to stand behind her.
Condom.
“Don’t move from that spot.”
I walked into my private bathroom and rummaged through my drawers. Fuck. Not one single condom. Although, to be fair I hadn’t fucked anyone in my office ever, that could be part of the issue.
“Jax, what are you doing?”
“I was looking for a condom, but apparently I’m out.”
She pushed off my desk, stood tall smoothing her dress down over her beautiful skin. “Is this part of a regular work day for you—fucking in your office?”
My eyes narrowed. “No, it’s definitely a first for me.”
Turning away from me, she reached for her purse. Shit. No wonder she asked. If she thought that I kept condoms on hand here in my office, she would absolutely wonder if I did this all the time. I scrubbed a hand over my jaw. “Stevie, this is not a regular thing, I swear to God.” I stumbled over my words sounding like a damn teenager.
She turned back to face me holding a silver foil packet between her fingers. “Lucky for you, my gran, and yes, I know this will sound weird, but she taught me to always be prepared.”
I smirked. “I’ve always liked that Grandmother of yours.”
With a devious smile playing on her lips, Stevie sauntered towards me. “You know I’ve always liked it when you stopped talking and fucked me.”
Shit. This boldness was incredibly sexy on her. She set the condom on my desk as if the gauntlet had been thrown. Her eyes locked with mine as she unzipped my pants.
“I want you inside me, now.”
When her arms snaked around my neck, I picked her up and then dropped her ass onto my desk. I kissed her hard, fucking her mouth driving deep. Our movements were hurried and unapologetic. Hooking my arm underneath her knees, I pulled her to the edge shoving her dress up and over her hips.
She took my cock in her hands, giving me a few pumps before opening the silver foil and expertly sheathing me. I cupped her face and kissed her again, drawing her bottom lip into my mouth. Her eyes were wild, filled with lust. My hands traveled up her thighs and beneath her skirt. Stevie moaned, working her fingers through my hair pulling me close. I settled between her legs, and she worked her hips to fit me in.
“Stevie,” I groaned, pushing deeper.
My hold on her hips was punishing as I rocked into her body the way I needed it. I moved harder, deeper with each movement. She fisted my hair meeting me thrust for thrust. My mouth sealed over hers as I rocked in and out of her
squeezing her ass. Her inner muscles gripped my cock, and pleasure spread from every cell in my body and went straight to my balls.
When her eyes squeezed shut, I knew Stevie was about to lose it. She whispered my name and came so perfectly around my cock. I slid deeper, and at the feel of her squeezing the entire length of my dick I found my own release seconds later.
Anything beyond the four walls of my office ceased to exist—all of it was cast out into the ocean, falling deeper into the abyss. The hotel could be crumbling around us and I wouldn’t care. Right here, now it was the two of us and I was perfectly fine with drowning in her for the rest of the day.
AFTER A RESTLESS NIGHT’S SLEEP I came into the office early. My first week had breezed by without any major disasters. The work was challenging and interesting, yet at the same time really enjoyable. I had to admit I was glad to not be caddying.
The position itself entailed a lot more than just acquiring art pieces. Each hotel had a specific interior design and installation concept and Jax wanted my input on everything right down to the types of floral arrangements. He had more faith in my abilities than I did, but as it turned out I had an eye for details.
At present I was in the middle of décor plans for the Azore spa at the Chicago hotel. Samples of orchids, green trick dianthus, smooth rocks, and four kinds of vases spread before me, as I tried to create a design aesthetic that would be used throughout the hotel for fresh floral and foliage. My plan was for the décor in the treatment rooms to differ slightly from the reception area.
“Are you avoiding me?” Hearing the gravelly tone caused the hairs on the back of my neck to stand on end. I didn’t have to look up to know that it was Jax standing in my doorway, but I did anyway. He stood before me wearing a dark striped suit with a grey tie offset against a crisp white shirt. I didn’t want to think about floral arrangements on coffee tables or credenzas. I only wanted that voice, his voice whispering dirty promises into my ear. I wanted his mouth on mine, his lips peppering my neck with kisses and drifting up to my lips. It was all kinds of wrong.
Wicked Gentleman Page 11
