by Amelia Stone
He looked away, his eyes all darting and shifty, like the guilty, woman-stealing rat he was. “Morgan. Hey. Listen, man, I know I’m not supposed to be up here unless it’s work-related, but-”
“That’s right,” I barked. “So what are you doing here?”
“I’m sorry,” he said, looking like a six-and-a-half foot tall sphincter in a sweater. “I just needed to talk to Kusmierski for a second.”
“Fine. You’ve talked to her.” I pointed to the elevator, not even caring that I was being a dickhead right now. “Now get back to work.”
Next to me, I could feel Taylor practically vibrating with anger, but I ignored her for now. This asshole deserved my wrath. He was working my very last nerve.
Everything in my life was working my last nerve.
Nearly three weeks of living with Taylor, but not fucking Taylor – not even getting to touch her – was clearly pushing me over the edge. Everywhere I looked, there she was, reminding me of what I couldn’t have. She left her bras hanging on my towel rack, walked around my kitchen in booty shorts, and wore the tiniest hot pink bathrobe I’d ever seen.
And then she went to sleep in my guest room.
I was this fucking close to tumbling into a bottomless pit of blue balls. I was dangling by a fingertip at this point, nothing but a little bit of skin and muscle keeping me from plummeting to my doom.
But if I was going to fall, I was going to take Graham fucking Morris with me.
“No problem,” he said, though he sounded close to tears. “Uh, you’ll do that thing…?” He looked down at Taylor.
She nodded, and I scowled. What the fuck was she going to do for him?
“Thanks, Taylor,” he said, giving her one last pleading look as he stepped onto the elevator.
And since fucking when did he get to call her by her first name?
The second the doors closed on his stupid face, Taylor whirled around in her chair.
“Office.” She glared up at me. “Now.”
Without another word, I turned and walked back into my office, and she was right on my heels. I could smell her perfume, and it seemed stronger than usual, as though her anger was amplifying it. She slammed the door, and I heard the snick of the lock just before she turned, advancing on me with a thunderous look on her face.
“What. The. Hell. Was. That?” She poked my chest with each word, pushing me back until my ass hit the edge of my desk. I sat down, and because she was wearing yet another pair of sky-high heels, she stood taller than me.
“What the hell was that?” I snapped, pointing in the direction of the outer office. “I thought I made it clear that you are not getting involved with him!”
“You made it clear?” Her eyes were manic. “You are not my freaking master, Julian! You do not tell me what to do.”
“I am your boss.” I reached out and gripped her ass, pulling her into me. “You literally get paid to do what I tell you to do.”
Her eyes narrowed dangerously. “I have to do what you say in this office, yes. But in life? When it’s not work-related? Guess what?” She gripped the front of my shirt, pulling me into her. “I am the motherfucking boss.”
I raised my eyebrows at her colorful statement. She never cursed, not that I’d ever heard. “The motherfucking boss, huh?”
She nodded. “That’s right.” Her gaze dropped to my mouth, and her eyes were hooded when she lifted them to mine again. “Now shut up and kiss me.”
Finally. I growled in triumph as I captured her mouth with mine, nipping and licking and sucking. It was violent in the best way, our mouths clashing, each taking what we needed without politeness or gentleness. It was fire and brimstone and I fucking loved it.
She pulled back first, her lips swollen, her eyes closed. “You’re a beast. You can’t talk to my friends like that.”
Oh, so Morris was her friend now? I glared at her. Yeah, absolutely fucking not.
“Your friends can go fuck themselves.”
“They already have.”
I blinked. “What?”
She locked eyes with me, giving me a withering look. “My friends have already fucked themselves. Well, each other, actually. Graham came here today because he and Larkin are a thing. Or, they were a thing. I guess it went south, and he asked me to help him fix it.”
“Wait a second. Morris has been fucking Larkin, your friend who lost her husband?”
She nodded. “They got close while I was gone.” She looked away, swallowing roughly.
“Hey.” I brushed her hair back from her face. “You okay with that?”
My teeth started to grind as I waited what seemed like twelve years for her response. I didn’t think she still wanted Morris. In fact, I was pretty sure she was as hung up on me as I was on her. But part of me still felt insecure when it came to her. If she could have the cover model pretty boy, why would she want me?
And then there was the sex thing. I respected that she was waiting to give up her virginity, but she wanted more than that. She wanted me to respect her, to worship her. She’d held out a long time, and she didn’t want some no-good asshole to take what he didn’t deserve.
But in the meantime, I was afraid I was, in fact, that asshole. I was afraid that she would come to the conclusion that I’d never deserve it, that I was somehow fundamentally unworthy of her. And I wasn’t sure what I would do if she decided to push me away in favor of Morris, or some other guy. As confusing as it was, I believed, with everything I had, that she was my woman.
I didn’t know what that meant, exactly. But I knew I wouldn’t have any peace until she was completely mine, until we were together in every sense of the word. The constant doubts, the jealousy, all the arguing – it was eating me up inside, and I wasn’t sure how much longer I would be able to hang on.
“Yes,” she finally replied, and I swept my dark thoughts aside, focusing on her again. “I think it’s wonderful. Graham’s a great guy, and Larkin deserves that after everything she’s been through. And I can kind of see it, you know? I can see them together.” She looked up at me with sad eyes. “I just wish I had been there for her. This was probably really hard on her, being with someone other than Daniel, and then having it all blow up in her face, from what Graham said.” She sniffed. “And I wasn’t there to help her through it.”
I nodded, understanding dawning, and I let out a relieved sigh. She wasn’t mad that her best friend was dating her ex-boyfriend. She wasn’t pining for Morris. She was mad at herself for being a bad friend.
“So make up with her,” I replied. “Go over there and say you’re sorry.”
She frowned. “I don’t know how to apologize for something this big.”
“You look her in the eye and say, ‘I’m sorry.’”
She bit her lip. “You think that’ll work?”
I gave her a wry smile. “Got me what I wanted.” I shrugged. “Kind of. Still waiting on the consummation of all my dreams.” I wiggled my eyebrows cartoonishly.
She rolled her eyes. “You’re a hound,” she muttered, but she leaned in for another kiss. I shamelessly took advantage of the opportunity to pull her in close, my hands roaming her body.
“And you’re a damn tease. Walking around with that sinful body, then telling me I can’t have it.”
“You still don’t respect me,” she whispered, though it sounded more like a moan, since my hands were currently squeezing her tits – which, I was happy to learn, were not fake.
“I respect you so hard,” I murmured, kissing her neck, her jaw, every bit of exposed skin above the collar of her pretty floral blouse. “You’re amazing.”
She tried to snort, but it was really a breathy sigh. “Nothing but lip service.”
“Uh huh.” My lips kept moving down as my hands moved up, snaking under that blouse until they met smooth skin. “That’s the idea.”
“Ungh.” Her head fell back, and I grinned against her collarbone. “Julian, what are you doing?”
Fuck, I loved how my
name sounded like that, when her sweet voice was steeped in pleasure. Her skin was flushed under the tan, her chest was heaving, and I could feel the heat of her blood under my hands and lips. She was perfect in this moment.
“I’m respecting you,” I told her. Her head tipped forward again, and she regarded me suspiciously through hooded eyes. “Just let me do this for you.”
“Do wha-” Her words died in her throat, subsiding into a moan as my fingers slipped under her bra cups, circling over her nipples. “Ohhhh.”
“You’ve been working so hard lately, babe. Will you let me make you feel good?” I murmured against her lips.
“Hngh,” she grunted, but her head nodded, just once.
But once was enough. I kept the focus on her breasts as I kissed her, delving deeper than I had yet. She tried to rush into it, kissing me hurriedly, roughly, like we always had before. But I dialed it back a little, slowed it down, taking my time to savor her. She tasted like strawberries and coffee, and I fucking loved it.
Gradually, my lips moved lower again, tracing along her neck, my tongue darting out to taste her everywhere I went. All the while, I rubbed my thumbs over her nipples, applying more and more pressure until they peaked. She kept letting out these soft little moans, and I had to concentrate in order to keep myself reined in, to keep from taking it too far. This was just for her. I needed to show her that I could listen to her, that I could pay attention and focus solely on her. I needed to worship her.
So the campaign was controlled, steady, measured. I moved down her body, my mouth learning the contours and curves of her body. My hand left her breast, caressing her silky skin as it moved down.
“Julian,” she breathed. “Where are you going?”
I smiled against her ribcage. “You’ll see.”
I went back to business, humming when her fingers tangled in my hair. But then she tugged on it – hard – and if that wasn’t a clear signal to stop then I wasn’t sure what was. Reluctantly, I pulled back, though I kept my hands where they were – one in her bra, one on her skirt-clad hip.
“I don’t know about this,” she said, looking at me with wide blue eyes. “I haven’t…” she gulped, looking at me with pleading eyes.
I inhaled sharply. “No one’s ever gone down on you?”
Slowly, she shook her head. “I haven’t ever… you know.” She leaned forward. “Fooled around. With anyone.”
My first reaction was disbelief. For one thing, this woman was a walking wet dream for the majority of the male, and a good portion of the female, population. And she dated a lot. Like, a lot. In just her first few months here, I’d had to listen to her talk about a new guy just about every week.
But as I thought about it, I realized she was probably telling the truth. If she’d never had intercourse, it stood to reason she’d never done anything else, either. And her embarrassment right now certainly wasn’t fake.
I clenched my jaw to keep from whooping in triumph. I would be the first man to see her pussy. Ever. The caveman in me was banging his chest and grunting up a storm. But the decent dude in me was aware of the responsibility I now held. I’d be the first person other than herself to give her an orgasm.
“Taylor,” I growled, closing the small gap between us and giving her a quick, dirty kiss. “I promise I will take care of you.”
“But will you still respect me after?” she asked in a small voice, like she was afraid of the answer.
I held her gaze, hoping she could see the truth in my eyes. “Babe, I am doing this because I respect you. This is all about you right now. I want to help you relax, make you feel good.”
She stared at me for a long moment like she was debating with herself. Then, finally, she nodded again. “Okay. But no expectations,” she said in as stern a tone as she could manage. “This is not going to lead to P in V.”
I chuckled. “No, ma’am. You’re the boss here.”
“Too right I am,” she said. Then she put her hand on my head, pushing it down. “Now get down there and lick me.”
I grinned as I worked my way back down again, kissing and nibbling until I was on my knees and she was putty in my hands. Then, slowly, I pushed her skirt up, watching her the whole time. Her hesitation seemed to be gone now, because she was watching me back, her eyes dark and hungry. So I made sure to take my time, teasing her with my touch, kissing her knees.
“Ungh,” she whined, tipping her head back. “Now who’s the damn tease?”
I grinned. “It’s only teasing if you don’t follow through.”
She locked eyes with me, smiling wickedly. “That’s fine. But when it’s time for you to get yours, remember that it was your choice to be evil.”
I chuckled as I worked my way up her smooth, toned thighs, loving the way her legs parted to give me an uninterrupted view of her thong-covered pussy. I hummed in appreciation as my hands skated up, stopping just short of where we both wanted them to be. But I wasn’t trying to tease this time.
No, I was in awe. My face was between her knees, my thumbs were brushing her soft skin, and my heart clattered against my ribs, knowing that I was the first man to chart this territory. And I wasn’t at all sure I was worthy of the honor, but I could be. Conviction settled in my bones as I looked up at her, so open and vulnerable – so trusting. Of me.
I would be worthy, if it was the last thing I did.
I moved the little strip of white lace aside, and then I was there, staring at her beautiful pussy. She was pink and already glistening with anticipation, and I grinned.
“So pretty for me,” I murmured, kissing my way up her thigh. “Is this all for me, babe?” My thumb trailed through her seam, coating it with wetness.
She moaned, her fingers tangling in my hair and tugging again. “Yes. So get to it.”
I chuckled as I grabbed her hips, sliding her forward until she was hanging off the edge of the desk. “You’re the boss.”
Finally, I leaned forward and licked a long, slithering line across her center. We both moaned at the same time, her because it felt good, and me because goddamn, she tasted so sweet. It was better than I thought it would be. And I’d spent five long months thinking about it.
“Oh,” she sighed. “Yes.”
I grinned, bending to taste her again, and again, and again. I tried different angles, changed the pressure, and increased or decreased the pace, paying attention to what got the biggest response. Unsurprisingly, Taylor was vocal, encouraging me with words and sounds, and pretty soon, I sensed that she was close.
And so was I. She was so fucking hot, and the sounds she was making – sounds I was pulling out of her – were causing my dick to press against the unyielding fabric of my jeans. When I couldn’t take it any longer, I unzipped my fly, pulling myself out and squeezing hard, trying to clam the hell down before I blew my wad all over the industrial carpet in my office.
“Julian,” she breathed. “I need more.” I hummed in reply, because my tongue was occupied, and she tugged at my hair impatiently. “Julian. More.”
I pulled back, looking up at her. “You said no P in V.” I raised an eyebrow, silently challenging her to tell me she’d changed her mind.
“I know that,” she said, giving me an adorable little frown. “But you have ten fingers, don’t you?”
I laughed. “I do, babe. I do.”
So I took one of those fingers and slid it through her folds, getting it nice and wet. Then, slowly, I eased it inside her.
“Yes,” she sighed. “That. More of that.”
I gave her what she wanted, of course. I had been trying so hard for the last few weeks to give her what she wanted, what she demanded: my attention. She wanted me to notice her – no, more than that. She didn’t just want me to see her. She wanted me to know her, to know what made her tick, to recognize her hopes and ambitions, to understand her heart. And I wanted that, too. I didn’t want to be the asshole who disrespected and belittled her, the asshole who sneered at her at the same time he drooled
over her. I’d been that asshole, and I didn’t like him. She deserved better than that. I deserved better than that.
So I gave her what she wanted, what she needed, even if it was just this moment, this one orgasm.
But I made a promise to myself that it would be the first of many.
When her hips stopped bucking against my face, she sat up, smiling. Then she burst into laughter.
“What?” I looked up at her, frowning. She was seriously laughing right now? “What’s so funny?”
She waved a perfectly-manicured hand in front of her face, still giggling. “Nothing. It’s just, your stupid hobo beard is all shiny.”
“My what?” I stood, staring at her. I still had my shaft in my hand, and even though I was confused as fuck, I couldn’t help but start to stroke. I needed to come, urgently.
“You have to admit that chin rug is more than a little crazy-looking.”
I growled, leaning in and capturing her mouth for a searing kiss. “My stupid hobo beard is shiny because you came all over it.”
“I know,” she chirped, looking impossibly smug. “Thank you for that.” And then she hopped off the desk, grinning at me. “I need to get back to work now. Terry in HR asked for your October expense reports by lunchtime.”
“Okay,” I said slowly, watching as she straightened her clothes, tucking her blouse back in and fluffing her hair. “Want to have dinner tonight? We could go to Five Guys.”
She gave me a bright smile. “A burger sounds great, but I have plans.”
“Plans?” I ran a hand through my hair, not understanding what was going on here, as usual.
“Yup! I’m going to Karaoke tonight.”
And without any further explanation, she blew me a kiss as she left the room, leaving me alone, standing in my office with my dick in my hand.
Taylor was definitely avoiding me.
Well, as much as she could, considering she was still living in my house and working in my office. But even though we were within thirty feet of each other all day every day, it was like she wasn’t really there. Her eyes wouldn’t quite meet mine when we spoke, her smiles were once again fake, and she seized every excuse possible to get away from me.
