by CJ Roberts
Of course, he’d had to concentrate on keeping the listing after he’d lost control of the psycho seller. He’d had to duck a flying crystal vase at one point, but he had quick reflexes so that worked out fine – the ultimate goal had been achieved.
Jack knew timing was everything. You had to be in the right place at the right time on purpose in order to succeed in his business. The fact that Blondie had gone loco on him just about the time he realized that Sara had gotten royally screwed by that broker tool had been exactly that – timing. Sara needed something she wasn’t going to get with her endless routine of exercise and work. The fact that he had developed a minor obsession with her didn’t escape him, but he chalked it up to lust and his usual desire to obtain the seemingly unobtainable.
Jack had lost count of the women he’d loved. Frankly, he loved every woman he was with while he was with them. He loved learning how to press their buttons, what made them tick, how to make them happy, or at least content, under his talented hands. But ever since law school, the one time he’d let himself really open up to a woman who’d dumped him without ceremony the very week they were graduating, he’d closed himself off to anything beyond physical satisfaction. When he sensed any emotional connection seeping in, even from him, he’d cut off the relationship, leaving many an unhappy lady behind.
He closed his laptop and headed out the door to his next appointment, feeling at the top of his game, but with a small, annoying tickle in the back of his brain whispering Sara’s name. Brushing a hand over his rough jaw, he pondered his options. He felt certain of one thing: it was time to act. He tamped down the urge to just take the direct route, scoop her up and take her to his house for a nice long weekend of bonding.
No. She needed to realize what she wanted first.
4
Still sitting at her desk on a Friday night, Sara had never felt so exhausted. She’d spent the past two weeks focused on nothing but the damn deal with Jack. He’d taken the opportunity to get all friendly with her and they’d had some long chats. He loved to text message her with thinly veiled messages about hooking up, but he never managed to ask her out on an actual date. The annoyance crossed with irritation mixed with anticipation was a buzz.
It had been an abnormally hot June. The office, full of people all day, had finally emptied. Sara had changed into comfortable clothes and faced a solid hour or more of work before heading home. She’d just pulled her hair up into a ponytail and focused on her computer when her phone buzzed.
“Hey, Sara, I’m driving by your office right now.” The sound of Jack’s deep, raspy voice touched off something in her, as it did every time. Her brain slowly processed that he proposed a face-to-face encounter.
Like, now.
“Are you there? As if I didn’t know?” He laughed. “I have a document for your buyer and I thought I’d just drop it off and save us some time.”
Shit.
She glanced down at herself. Sara loved spending her hard-earned money on great clothes, but didn’t have any of them with her tonight. She ran into the office bathroom, yanked out the ponytail holder in her hair, and tried to remember if she had lipstick in her purse.
“Sure!” she claimed brightly. “I’ll meet you at the door.”
She used the toothbrush she kept in the office bathroom closet, then splashed water on her flushed face. Anger at the fact she felt nearly frozen in place by the idea that Jack Gordon planned to simply “stop by” after hours to see her made her dizzy. In spite of her resolve to be strong, something yearned for him in a way that utterly terrified her.
Yeah, well fuck that. Of course he’s interested in you.
She pep talked herself all the way to the front doors – a wide expanse of glass facing Ann Arbor’s main street. She heard the roar of his engine before she saw the car. Sara rolled her eyes.
A Stingray. What else?
Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself against the coming onslaught. She had work to do and would not be distracted by this – she couldn’t afford to be. But her body began to betray her at the thought of him in her personal space. It was a familiar feeling. She’d been having wet dreams about him for the better part of a year. She sighed, determined that he’d likely never measure up to her fantasies but realized her hands shook as she reached for the door handle.
Yeah, OK, girl, settle down. This is Jack Gordon, every woman’s dream date. But he’s only here with paperwork.
She shook her head, looked up and there he was – all six foot, four inch, dark hair, blue eyes, sexy white smile, of him. Resisting the sudden compulsion to look away, to not meet his eyes, she smiled back.
“Hey gorgeous,” he began as he always did on the phone, his voice a low growl that matched his car engine’s rumble. “I’ve got something for ya.”
“Ha, I’ll just bet you do,” she threw back. Lame, she thought as she took in the sight of him in his dark blue suit trousers, striped dress shirt with French cuffs emphasizing what had to be an incredible torso, arms and chest. Jack had a classic male shape – wide shoulders tapering to a slim waist and long legs – and he wore a suit better than anyone Sara had ever seen. His red and yellow tie, which stopped just short of being loud was flung over his shoulder from the ride. He smelled great too, some combination of spice, cigar and leather.
Damn. I’m screwed.
“No, really. My asshole seller agrees to your asshole buyer’s requests post inspection. I’ve got it all signed up here. Now all we lack is a good appraisal and we are golden my lovely!”
“You call all the girl agents that, I’m sure.” She sighed and reached for the paper he held out, grazing his hand in the process.
His skin was warm. No, not warm, hot, as if he’d been near a fire. She shivered, and the tingling in her scalp crawled down her spine and settled nicely between her legs.
She drew back. He moved forward to fill the empty space between them. Their silhouettes darkened the entry foyer. He remained shy of touching her – keeping just out of reach.
“You know, I was looking for an excuse to see you in person,” he said. “I’m really gonna miss our little evening chats once this deal is done.”
“Yeah, well, you know where I live.” Sara waved in the general direction of the office as her breath caught in her throat. “I, um, gotta do some, you know, busy work tonight so. . .”
Don’t go…don’t go…don’t go….
“So do I – but I just can’t help thinking that we could come up with something a bit, I don’t know. . . more fun to do together.”
“Um, yeah, I guess we could go out if you want, but I’m not really dressed for it.” Sara’s brain fogged over. Was he asking her out on date? Before she could respond, react or even move, his lips covered hers.
Her mind immediately grasped the fact that the entire downtown of Ann Arbor could see them sucking face in the vestibule of her office. Her manager would really not be pleased.
Oh dear Lord.
As he became more insistent, Sara responded, her psyche screaming with happy release. His lips were softer than she would have thought, but became increasingly more demanding that she share and open her mouth to him. She gave in, parted her lips, and placed her hands on his chest sending her last bit of resistance swirling down the drain.
He licked her lips, nipped at her bottom one, and then swept inside, possessing her with his tongue. She gave way, fully aware that this guy, wanted by so many, held her, right there, and had reached under her hair to tug her closer. Sara had not fully acknowledged her level of horniness until that moment – when the man who represented everything so wrong for her prepared to blow apart her world with the touch of his hands and mouth.
Jack had kept distance between them during their initial contact, as if gauging how she would respond before committing himself. Once she green-lighted him with her body language, he moved closer, grasped the back of her head with one hand, his fingers twisting and threading through her hair.
Any and all
hesitation disappeared completely as he deepened the toe-curler of a kiss. His other hand traveled the length of her back and reached up again to cup her head. He flitted over her ass, teased, seemingly determined to draw it out until she asked for more. Her traitorous arms wrapped around his neck, as she rose up on her tiptoes.
Oh my God don’t do this Sara. Just. Don’t.
But the compulsion that had built over the past year commanded her, and she molded her body to his as if it were the most natural thing in the world. A loud knock on the glass made her jump away and run her hand through her hair as the college kid on the other side laughed and mimed a blowjob, until his buddies drew him away.
She glanced up at Jack, saw his skin flush with anger or passion. He smirked as he watched the guys’ retreat into the soft Michigan summer night then turned to face her. His face remained inscrutable, but when he turned that sapphire gaze back to her, she had to reach back and grab the wall or risk doing something truly alarming, like fling herself at him.
Where in the hell had that come from?
She shook her head, took a step back. Before she could speak, he was in her space again, running a finger down her face, Gentle, but without a doubt, in complete control.
“Sorry Sara, I just couldn’t help myself.” His rough voice made her skin pebble. “Let’s lock up here. You grab your stuff. We’ll go somewhere for a drink.”
He followed her inside the second set of doors, close enough so she could smell him – a unique combination of soapy manliness, expensive cologne and lust. Her chest constricted. Danger signals flashed in her vision. He reached up and flipped off the lights as she rounded the corner of the front desk on her way back to her office. She turned around to tell him not to bother with them – that they kept that set on, and ran straight into his neck. He pulled her to him and muttered into her ear as she struggled to disentangle herself.
“Shh…wait. It’s okay. I’ve got you.” His hands moved from her head, to her neck, down her back and cupped her ass. She reached up to grasp his head and force his mouth back down to hers, making a near animal sound in her throat as their tongues collided. She twined her hands in his hair, primal, almost painful need rose in her, making her squirm and clutch him tighter.
His hand moved from her ass up to her shirt, reaching under the simple tank top she wore, straight to her bra.
“Mmm, somebody is happy to see me,” he whispered into her ear, causing a sudden nearly violent reaction throughout her entire body. She jerked away, leaving about a foot between them.
“What, baby?” He took a step back, passed a hand over his mouth. “Did I hurt you?”
Sara stared at what she could see of him, now that her eyes had adjusted to the gloom of the front office and rubbed her arm nervously.
This was patently insane – all of it.
They were in her office for Christ’s sake. She’d heard he liked to fuck around in public, but she didn’t want to be another conquest. Her usually repressed nature struggled with her body’s compulsion to have his hands on her, his mouth on hers, before she exploded. “Ah, no.” Her voice wobbled, sounded thin to her own ears.
She turned away from him, hoping to marshal her strength and tell him to leave. As she made her way down the office hallway she knew by heart even in the darkness, she could smell him on her and knew at that moment, without a doubt, she would fuck him, right then in the office.
They had been building towards it for too long. Her brain knew to keep quiet – it would not be heard over her body’s clamor. Her baser need for him took over, and when he put a hand on her shirt and firmly tugged her back to him, she let him, shutting her eyes and praying she wasn’t making a huge mistake.
She started to turn but he grabbed her from behind.
“Don’t turn around,” he whispered. “Just leave it all to me.”
She relented and leaned back into his body. His lips claimed her neck. His hands rubbed both nipples at once. She bent her knees and moaned, raised her arms and put them behind her around his head. He’d managed at some point to lose his expensive cufflinks and roll up his sleeves exposing tanned forearms. He released each breast from their cups, caressed, rubbed, and pinched her sensitive flesh. His lips and teeth remained on her damp skin.
She began to move, rubbing against the heat of his erection pressed into her back. He groaned and increased attention to her nipples, continuing to use his lips to caress the back of her neck. A small fire burned wherever he touched her.
“Mmm…I have been dreaming of doing this to you for weeks.” The words caused every nerve in her body to tingle. She closed her eyes.
He turned her around to face him, his hands on her upper arms. Before she could whimper about her poor lonely nipples he crushed his mouth on hers, pushing her up against the wall. Her left leg lifted and encircled his waist.
Oh my God, I am dry humping this grown man in my office.
He reached down and slowly unzipped her shorts, never removing his lips from the skin of her neck. He was muttering, something about “You smell exactly like I thought you would” but she couldn’t be certain as her brain started fogging up like the inside of a car window, obscuring all rational thought.
Jack reached a hand down and brushed the outside of her panties. She moaned as she leaned back against the wall. Sweat dripped slowly between her breasts. Her breath caught in her throat. She sensed him grin against her skin as he leaned down to find the moisture and lap at it, while his fingers teased her flesh.
“Somebody is really happy to see me.” His voice had an edge to it she loved.
Sara realized she was moving her hips, thrusting toward him as though drawn by a magnet. She started to reach down, needing to feel his flesh but he grabbed her hands, lifted them slowly up over her head and pinned her wrists against the wall.
“No, baby, let me. Just lean back and relax. I’m in charge.”
Everything in her struggled against him, tried to resist, but the firm grasp he kept on her wrists was one of the most erotic sensations she’d ever experienced. She bit her lip as Jack slid her shorts down.
He manipulated her and maintained his control, seemingly without much effort, still holding her wrists captive over her head. She started lifting off, becoming as light as air, reaching the edge of extreme pleasure while part of her tried to resist.
The man she’d been dreaming about for months was there, touching her, holding her captive against her office wall, and his lips, dear God… Eyes closed, head and arms up against the wall, she finally gave in to the pure, shuddering pleasure of it. Ignoring how much further she’d be willing to go with him, her usual reservations abandoned in his arms.
She rolled into the orgasm as his fingers pressed deep inside her, his thumb keeping the outside pressure. She knew he was watching her, observing her reaction but didn’t give a shit about that as she gave in to her body’s clamor for release. Until that exact moment she had no idea how much she’d missed the pure, breathtaking beauty of an earth-shattering climax. Could she hang onto it, bottle it, so she could re-visit it after Jack was through with her?
She knew he had no intention of doing anything beyond proving something to her against the wall in her office. But as far as she was concerned, he could prove all he wanted if it meant she could feel this way – every delicious, clutching, breathless minute of it.
“Oh dear god, Jack.” She heard her own whisper, hating the sound of its cliché even as she reveled in it. She cried out as she yanked her wrists from his grasp and clenched his arm, her lips seeking his. He accommodated her with his delicious lips and tongue and she’d swear he still wore that shit-eating Jack grin while he kissed her.
“Oh yeah, you come just like I knew you would. I knew you’d grab me with that pussy and not let go,” he muttered into her hair as she tried to calm her breathing. “Amazing.” He sounded as breathless as she felt.
She sighed, rolled her head around, tried to get some semblance of dignity back. He kept his
lips on her, on her shoulders, her neck, as if unwilling to break contact. She reached for him, requiring him back in her space and admiring the view of his rumpled shirt and tie. He leaned closer, placed both hands on the wall on either side of her head, closed his eyes and let her unhook his belt. She stopped, just as she was about to get her hands on him.
“Let’s move in here,” she whispered, indicating her cubicle, reluctant to expose him in the hall. No matter that, she was standing there, her shorts flung aside and her shirt practically ripped off from behind.
“No.” His voice was firm. She bit her lip. He leaned back to allow her a better angle.
His animal maleness, his scent, now mingled with hers on his hand, the breathless way he spoke near her ear, all combined to bring out something completely new in her. Her body tensed in post-orgasmic anticipation. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she could hear the sounds of the office at night. Sounds she was familiar with – the whirr of the fridge, the tick of the large art deco clock out front, even the traffic noises that were her usual backdrop for an evening work session. None of those things would ever sound the same to her again.
She gripped his dick, which was already slick with clear evidence of his desire. So, he isn’t all that much in control, she thought as she rubbed up and down the length of him.
“Mmm hmm. Very nice.” He kept his eyes closed, his hands still planted on the wall. She reached down and cupped his balls, smiling as they contracted at her touch.
She brought her lips to his, their breathing combined as his increased. She shoved her tongue into his mouth. He plunged his hands into her hair, moved his hips ever so slightly, and moaned deep in his throat, which sparked her own need to have him right then, inside her, before she exploded.
