What to Read After FSOG: The Gemstone Collection (WTRAFSOG)

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What to Read After FSOG: The Gemstone Collection (WTRAFSOG) Page 41

by CJ Roberts


  How crazy is this? He’s a colleague, a guy you’ve been warned about by people who love you – and you’re ready to let him fuck you like an animal standing up in the hallway?

  Yes.

  Some inner “New Sara” convinced her as she bent her knees and leaned over, taking in the scent of his most intimate and sensitive part, the raw, salty, musky man-smell. She flicked her tongue around the head, tasted him, allowed a little suction then withdrew.

  As she was about to taste some more, he grabbed her arms and tugged her straight up again, nearly growling with desire.

  “I’ve been waiting since I first heard your voice on the phone. Tell me what you want,” he demanded in a rough whisper.

  Sara heard her voice as if listening in, unable to stop herself. “Please. Jack, fuck me. Now.”

  He pushed her firmly back against the wall, grabbing her leg to hike it up again and forced her lips open with his insistent tongue as he propped himself against the wall with one hand.

  A flick of his wrist, the sound of a condom being opened, and his hand down low again near her bare sex indicated his readiness. She tried not to think about the fact that he had protection at his fingertips, as if he knew he would be getting some tonight. Those thoughts remained purely secondary to her urgent need for him inside of her.

  “Now, give it to me right now,” she demanded as she wrapped her arms around his neck and plunged her hands into his thick hair. The slim bit of control she had over this, over herself, slipped neatly out of her grasp.

  “I will baby. Gotta go slow. Trust me.” His breath tickled her ear as he slid some combination of fingers into her again. She jerked and moaned as he used them to stretch her. She thrust against him, wanting more.

  Head spinning at her own eagerness, Sara gasped when he reached around and grabbed her ass, pulling her closer and slowly easing into her, one delicious inch at a time. Her eyes widened as she went up on her tiptoes, one leg wrapped firmly around his waist providing an amazing angle.

  She moaned as he withdrew, the extreme emptiness he left behind making her gasp. He looked into her eyes and reached down to cup her breast in the hand that wasn’t propped against the wall for support. Keeping the head of his thick shaft inside, he caressed her nipple, murmuring something she couldn’t hear. Sweat trickled down her back.

  “Jack, please. . .”

  “What, Sara?” His voice held an element of teasing she did not care for.

  “I need you back inside me.” Every nerve ending in her body tingled with anticipation of his lips covering hers, of him, filling her completely.

  He obliged, firmly, faster this time. She lifted her leg up higher around his waist to allow for more contact, and groaned at the extreme sensation of his body inside hers. He began to move against her, deliciously slow, with control and intent. His breath picked up and he grabbed her ass once more, pulling her tighter to his body. He made a low sound deep in his throat.

  She turned her head to the right and caught their reflection in the glass door of the kitchen. His tall body, still mostly dressed, attached to hers, one hand on the wall, her leg wrapped around his waist as her body matched him thrust for thrust. She closed her eyes but the image burned there like a brand.

  “Shit woman, you are gonna make me come like a teenager,” he muttered above her head, his neck pressed into her face. She tried to get the picture of him on his bus ads out of her head – tan, handsome, grinning at the world – holy shit but he could make her feel like this?

  Shoving away the urge to call for god again, she reached around to grasp his ass. Her standing leg spasmed as her body clutched at him in a continuous wave of pleasure. The pressure his pubic bone put against her as he thrust, making that deep sound in his throat, the feel of her ass against the wall, the sheer thrill of doing it right there in the darkened hallway of her office raced through her. She let it take her, realizing her mistake too late – the mistake of letting Jack Gordon into her body and into her life.

  Sweat beaded up on his face. It was slick under her fingers as she reached up to pull his mouth to hers. She wanted to smell him, taste him while he came – needed him to truly understand what he did to her. She grabbed his hair in her attempt to get him ever closer as her entire body flushed with blood at the onrush of serious orgasmic bliss.

  She had a sudden urge to make him lose control – needed to wipe that fucking look off his face just once as he gave a final thrust and groaned. She was thrilled when that cocky grin was replaced with a look she recognized as one she’d been wearing earlier. His lips covered hers at the last moment, blinding her with the full sensation of his whole self, inside, covering her, marking her somehow although that sort of thought made her inner independent woman shudder. She put her hands on his shoulders, still encased in that dress shirt, observed that his tie was still on and sighed.

  “Okay, wow, um, I don’t usually act like this,” she said quietly as she admired the musculature of his shoulders under her hands.

  “Yeah, well, you just needed somebody to show you how fun this can be.” His voice stayed low as he withdrew and leaned down to kiss her neck.

  “So now is the embarrassing part, right?” Sara had no confidence in her knees whatsoever as she gripped the wall and willed her body calm.

  “What? Hell, no, I’m not embarrassed. I feel great.” He pulled off the condom, tucked himself back inside his pants, zipped them up then ducked into the kitchenette. He came back carrying some paper towels.

  She took the stack from him and turned away. Although used to handling the clean-up part post-sex in private, she figured what the hell, the New Sara could wipe up in front of the guy who made her wet. Jack smoothed his shirt and rolled down his sleeves. He glanced around and grabbed her shorts from where she had flung them about two feet down the hall and handed them to her, eyes twinkling, which caused a flare of anger to flicker in her brain.

  “Let’s go get something to eat – I’m starved.” He grinned as she shook her head, clearing the cobwebs placed there by the very fact of what she had done, in that hall with the guy who never even came out of his tie or his thousand-dollar shoes. She felt great, truthfully, but somehow that seemed wrong.

  The sound of a key in the door startled them both.

  “Shit, shit, shit.” Sara zipped up her shorts and cast about for her sandals.

  “Um, babe, tuck in your shirt in the back,” Jack whispered. “You look like you just got fucked against the office wall.”

  He grinned at her, blue eyes snapping with something Sara could not identify. When he turned away and ran his hand through his dark hair, it stood up in way that made her want to thread her fingers through it.

  Get a grip Sara. Do not let him do this to you.

  “Yeah, thanks, whatever,” she mumbled as she made her way back to her office.

  Jack ambled into the kitchenette, opened the fridge and grabbed a Diet Coke.

  “Who’s here?” The sing-song voice of Meg, the office sad-sack agent, traveled back to them.

  “Just me Meg.” Sara shocked herself with her steadiness.

  “Well, young lady, did you buy a new car or something?”

  Meg didn’t do much business anymore. She hung out around the office all the time, never going out to work. Most offices had them – the resident sob-story types that managers could not cut loose out of the goodness of their hearts. She was also a great listener, which endeared her to many agents and kept her from being completely annoying.

  “No lovely lady,” Jack called out striding out to the hall. “That’s my ride as you well know!”

  “Jaaack, you devil!” Meg’s voice scraped fingernails down Sara’s internal chalkboard and she suddenly felt really, really cheap.

  Jack flirted with everybody. He hadn’t singled her out on the phone over the last few weeks. Flirting for him was like breathing – he couldn’t not do it.

  Great. And you let him fuck you, practically in public, without a second thought. What
is wrong with you?

  Nothing, the New Sara caressed her ear. Nothing another session with him won’t cure. Enjoy. Don’t think. Don’t plan. Just lie back and enjoy the ride.

  When Jack met Meg halfway up the hall, Sara realized he headed her off on purpose, keeping her from approaching where the hall smelled a bit…musky.

  “What brings you to our fancy downtown office, young man?”

  “Had to bring something over to Sara. We have a tough deal that’s finally coming together. I wanted to deliver it in person and I knew she’d be here – she’s always here, isn’t she?” Jack threw an arm around Meg’s shoulders.

  “Yes, our Sara, she’s a hard worker,” Meg agreed. “She’ll be our top producer in no time!”

  Jack looked back, caught Sara’s eye and winked. “Yep, she’ll be on top very soon for sure, especially if I have a say in it!”

  She glared at him, her whole body reacting to his words like a silly love-struck teenager.

  “We’re headed out.” Sara caught up with them and breezed past. “Want us to lock up or are you staying a while Meg?” She didn’t care, really, simply needed to get out of the office. Her brain spun out of control. It was not a feeling she liked or wanted to perpetuate. “Meet you at Tres Amigos, Jack,” she tossed over her shoulder, unwilling to look back, not trusting herself to meet his eyes.

  On his way to meet Sara at the Mexican place, Jack had to roll down all his windows and let the slightly cooling Michigan summer night breeze ruffle his hair. He kept a hand on the wheel but brought the other to his face, wanting to keep Sara’s scent near. He shook his head to clear it. There had been no need to drop any papers off – that was what scanners and email were for. He had wanted her to think it a random drop-in visit, not the premeditated encounter it was. But things had spiraled out of control fast, too fast.

  It had been a real buzz getting to know her through this deal. Her professionalism, the calm efficiency she used to handle her buyer had been amazing, and he knew damn good and well that was part of her appeal. It drove him to her office tonight, determined to scoop her up and take her out, somewhere, anywhere, dinner, dancing whatever she wanted. The sight of her in unselfconsciously sexy denim and cotton, hair unruly, sans any makeup, eyes bright and obviously eager to see him – had smacked him in square in the libido. He licked his lips in the car’s dark interior.

  The chemical spark that passed between them when she took the innocuous excuse of a document had caught Jack off guard. He considered himself the type of guy who thrived on raw sexual energy. He’d spent years enjoying the company of as many different women as possible – as teacher and student. But this? This was something completely new to him. The ever-present hum of erotic energy running through him lately revved, and his brain filled with images of them together, of her on her knees eyes cast down. His hands shook as he readjusted them on the wheel.

  What was it about this chick anyway?

  She was hot, no doubt – tight ass, firm body, dark blonde mid length hair that he could still feel between his fingers. And those absolutely incredible eyes. Unlike many men, he had no preference: blondes, redheads, brunettes, it made no difference. He tended to be drawn to women on the thinner side or at least ones who cared about their bodies enough to exercise every now and then, which she clearly did.

  It had been nearly a year since he first saw her – really saw her – when she walked out of that penthouse condo, wearing that fine, just-fucked look on her lovely face. A solid year and his obsession with her had only increased. Usually, when a woman proved to be inaccessible he moved on to the next one. Not this time.

  But the evening hadn’t gone at all like he had planned. Figuring she’d be dressed for work and would want to go out he had come straight from his own office and had the night planned from start to finish, not really anticipating his need to take her, right then and there. Something about her had forced him closer, if only for a taste. Of course, he’d gotten a lot more than that. Her meeting his need halfway only served to ramp up his urge to take, to own her up against the wall like an animal.

  Her early hesitation and shyness reinforced what his research had predicted. The lovely woman had gone a while without a man’s touch. It had only made him want her even more. However, his usual post-sex smug, self-satisfied feeling eluded him and it pissed him off. That coupled with the twitchy need to have her again, to make her beg for him, made him uneasy and horny in equal measure.

  Shit. What the hell, Gordon?

  Jack ran a hand through his hair. He sensed she still had pent up energy. He wanted to release it. Wanted more than anything to prove he was the man to do it. But he’d be damned if, for the first time in years, he hadn’t let himself go. Allowed himself to orgasm without consciously keeping his distance.

  When she had reached up to capture his lips at the last moment, he hadn’t even tried to resist. He’d wanted to be completely aware of her as he shared the ultimate connection. It was as if she knew he normally resisted contact at that moment. He had clutched her ass with one hand and relished the firm feel of her skin and muscle underneath as her amazing body continued to spasm and contract along the length and width of him. It hit him hard, and not only in his cock.

  When she’d gotten embarrassed again after they were done, he’d had to move away from her or risk acting like a sap. She had looked devastating – her hair disheveled in the back, her color high and her lips swollen from his efforts. It was one of his favorite looks on a woman – the “Well Fucked by Jack Gordon” face. He would gladly have picked her up and plunked her down on the floor and done it again and again to get that connected feeling back. It warred inside him, the simultaneous need to possess and please, to control and satisfy.

  He shook his head once again as he pulled into the parking lot outside the restaurant.

  Get hold of yourself man. She’s just another pussy – a pretty sweet one at that. You’ve managed to break that office in now, enjoy the afterglow.

  He smiled as she pulled in behind him and eased out of her car, long, sexy legs leading the way.

  Damn, the woman was hot.

  He held out an arm, she took it with a skeptical look and they walked into the restaurant together.

  “Here.” Jack held the dark ring of a jalapeño to Sara’s lips.

  “I can feed myself, thanks.” She grabbed one from her plate to pop into her mouth. He shrugged and ate the hot pepper he’d been holding, without taking his eyes from hers.

  She was no lightweight, but after only two beers felt tipsy. It was as if she were drunk on Jack – his proximity, his voice, and the lips that he kept brushing against her neck. The fact that he’d ordered for them without even asking her what she wanted didn’t have its usual effect on her either. She loved it.

  He’d ordered exactly what she was craving – a dark Mexican beer and the hottest possible burrito smothered in rich tomato sauce. He regaled her with stories from his recent string of real estate failures while they ate. At one point she had laughed so hard she’d let out a snort, which made him laugh even harder.

  At that moment he put an arm around her and pulled her close, so close she could smell him and she had to close her eyes to battle her compulsion to climb up on his lap. He felt familiar but dangerous and elusive at the same time. She knew he couldn’t, or wouldn’t, be into her any more than any other woman. He had to be the absolute worst man she could get attached to – a self-centered man-whore, intent on his own satisfaction every minute of the day.

  He didn’t let go of her and she tilted her face up to his to receive his lips. His kiss made the room spin. She couldn’t resist the temptation to grab his thigh which was pressed against hers. He grinned against her lips as she ran her hand up near his zipper.

  “I think I’m going to like this new Sara.” He broke away and whispered, not stopping her hand’s journey.

  She stared at him, her mission towards his crotch forgotten. How in the hell could he know that she felt hersel
f splitting in two – becoming an Old and a New Sara. Old Sara would have never fucked him like that, but this new creature loved how he made her feel, and wanted it again. Her life would forever be divided in her mind between “before Jack” and “after Jack.” The concept that he had so much control over her already pissed her off.

  “Yeah, well, New Sara needs some sleep,” she insisted and glanced at her watch. “Busy day tomorrow and all.”

  He threw enough cash down for the bill and tip and held out his hand to ease her out of their booth. She took it, loving the already familiar heat of his palm.

  It took everything she had not to invite him back to her place. He didn’t seem inclined to carry on their encounter, once their meal was complete anyway. Instead, she adopted his breezy manner, gave him a peck on the check and climbed into her car. Jack shut her door then motioned for her to roll down the window. She knew she should escape, but did not want to leave. He leaned into her open window, grabbed her by the back of the neck and guided her lips to his for a better good night kiss. Beer and a slight echo of salsa, ghosted across her taste buds. He broke away, touching her on the nose.

  “See you soon, yes?”

  “See you soon, Jack, yes.” She started up her car. The throaty motor of the Beemer gave her a thrill.

  “Oh, and stop buying these foreign cars, will ya?” He grinned. “This is Michigan you know – buy American!”

  He turned and disappeared into the night.

  Jack had used every bit of his resolve not to invite her back to his house. He would have given anything to lower her down onto his king-sized bed and make her sing with pleasure, to cry out for him again and again. He made a mental note to dig some of his toys out of the wooden chest buried in the back of his closet. Strips of worn leather, a blindfold and a few other choice items danced around in his brain. Thinking he’d never use them again after the last woman had nearly screamed with shock when he suggested it, he’d hidden them and his darker urges away.

 

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