by CJ Roberts
“Sara,” he whispered into her ear. “You are…” He stopped and she stepped away. He took a deep breath. She held hers. His gaze kindled a spark that caught and centered in her core. “Don’t leave. Please.” He leaned in and kissed her again, his usual urgency absent, the gentle nature of his caresses throwing her off. He broke away, cradling her face with his hands.
She mentally begged him to say more, as Rob’s advice about Jack’s potential ran through her head again. Intensely erotic recent memories raced through her rattled head. She laced her fingers at the small of his back and leaned back, waiting for him finish. Willing him to take control, in spite of herself.
He leaned in to lick the spot between her collarbones.
“I can’t give you much right now, Sara,” he said against her skin. “But I promise you it won’t be boring.”
Sara ran her hands up his back, fisted her hands in his coarse black hair and kissed him until she saw stars. He moaned into her lips, nearly bringing her to her knees. Rallying everything she had to resist, knowing she deserved more than yet one more casual fuck from this man, she gripped his upper arms, the crisp cotton of his shirt crinkling under her hands.
“I’m sure you won’t bore me Jack.” She held him at arm’s length. “That’s not the problem.” He stepped away from her, hands on his hips. Sara fought the strange urge to drop to her knees.
“Okay.” He ran a hand down his face. “You win.”
“I’m not trying to win.” She moved another step further away, trying to rally anger or something so she could resist him. “I’m trying to retain something resembling my sanity.”
Jack smiled at her, once again nearly melting what small bit of resolve she clung to. He stepped in closer, cupping her chin in his hand.
“I’m just as afraid of losing mine,” he declared, making her skin flush. His lips hovered just out of her reach. “But I’m willing to risk it.”
Fully realizing she could be getting the “worst thing” just as easily as the “best thing,” Sara succumbed. Jack’s lips, tongue, hands, body, she wanted them all, right there, and desire blinded every logical synapse she possessed.
“That’s my Sara.” She startled at his possessive words. “I know what you need. Let me show you.” She nodded as his lips and teeth found her neck. The deep growl of his voice, the way he gripped her, it made her weak and shaky, all reactions new to her in the arms of any man.
He reached back and grabbed the beautiful tie he’d been wearing that morning and raised an eyebrow. Without a second thought, she held out her wrists for him. “No, turn around first.” She trembled as she turned but he held her steady, pulling both arms behind her.
The soft touch of silkiness grazed her flesh. Jack swaddled her skin in the luxurious fabric, then put his hands on her shoulders and pressed her to the floor. He remained behind her, out of her line of vision. Sara tensed, fighting her body’s urge to escape, to reject this scene. Words bubbled up and out of her lips.
“This is really why you wanted me here, right Jack? I mean, we could’ve done the work over the phone.”
Tension she’d held since the awkward morning meeting he’d invaded ebbed away in spite of her submissive position on her knees. She took a breath, and let the touch of his capable hands on her shoulders relax her. The music changed again and Sara heard laughter in the hall, but somehow, she didn’t care.
“You like this as much as I do. I can tell. Sort of scary really.” He stood in front of her now. She licked her lips at the view she had on her eye level. He put a hand on his zipper, making her tingle in anticipation. But then, he was suddenly eye level with her, his gaze hard. “I haven’t done…this…in a while.” He swallowed hard. “But I think it’s something I need. And I promise you won’t be disappointed.” On his knees in front of her he cupped the back of her neck and drew her in. His lips and tongue were fierce, rough and possessive. Sara moaned and leaned into him. She gasped when he broke away.
“Please, Jack. I want you to. I’m –”
He cut her off by bringing her to her feet then pressing her into the chair, grinning as he pulled her shaking knees apart. The hand he pressed against her felt hot, burning hot, bringing a moan to her lips.
“Yes, I know. That’s the thing. I know exactly what you want me to do.” He slid her skirt up slowly, hooked a finger in her panties and with a jerk, had them ripped in two. “Don’t ever wear these again.” She nodded and leaned back as he crouched down between her thighs. When his lips touched her, it took a lot of effort not to scream.
“You have to ask me.” His voice was low. “Ask me if you can come.”
The room faded. There was only her and the man between her knees. No anger, no stress, no residual discomfort. Only him.
“May I…oh God.” She gripped her hands together, still bound in the tie behind her back, as he teased her with his tongue. “Please, may I come? Jack?”
“Yes. You may.” He pressed fingers high inside and sucked her clit between his lips. The orgasm ripped through her, tearing her in two as effectively as the discarded silk on the floor.
Jack smiled against Sara’s skin, reveling in the smell and sight of the pink, silky perfection of her most intimate and sensitive areas. The sound of her trying not to yell made his cock swell harder. He had forgotten how much he loved this.
He’d always excelled at taking charge, whether at work, on the golf course, a building site, anywhere. People looked to him to do it. He’d been captain of two varsity sports teams in high school and president of his fraternity for two years in college. It seemed natural to fall into the role of formal Master with his sex partners. But something about it had a dark hard edge that he’d been avoiding. It brought something out in him he didn’t think he liked anymore. After going full bore with Jenna for so long only to have her jump into a three way with his housemates without his permission, without even telling him – he’d doubted himself ever since.
He nuzzled Sara’s pussy once more, his brain buzzing with energy, knowing he’d made a connection with her that wouldn’t be denied. But, did he want it? He got to his feet, watching her, one hand on his straining zipper, the other wiping his lips. Her amazing green eyes sparkled as the post orgasm look he loved stole over her face.
The room darkened. “Stand up.” She rose to her feet. “My turn.” He pressed her to her knees again, groaning at the sight of her shoes, her face. Dear God, everything about the woman flipped every erotic switch he possessed, including the one he thought he’d taped over with an “out of order” sign. The one labeled: Master. The whole scene made him feel powerful, content, and potentially dangerous. He unzipped and released himself to her lips.
She ran her tongue around the edges, slipped it into the slit pearled with fluid. Thighs trembling he fisted his hands in her silky hair. “All the way down Sara. I need you to.” She looked up and locked eyes with him before slipping her beautiful mouth over him.
He sucked in a breath, felt his head hit the back of her throat as she relaxed and swallowed him. He eased out, then back in, his brain shutting down and his body taking over. He could handle this. He…
“Oh fuck.” He shoved his hips forward, braced one hand on the wall and let go. Let himself fall. “I’m gonna come,” his voice whispered, but the rush of orgasm roared in his ears, blinding his vision. He’d forgotten how intensely he climaxed when in this mode. “Oh dear God…” He tired one more time not to, then grunted, thrust down her throat once more and released as the room narrowed, went black, then cleared.
Sara had never been a huge fan of giving head. Didn’t even think she did it that well. But when Jack had released his thick cock in front of her eyes, no force on the planet could have kept her from it. She wanted it in her mouth and down her throat so badly she could barely see.
He tasted salty, musky, and delicious. The sensation of his hands in her hair, the way his hips angled up and his legs spread to keep steady made her whole body thrum and pulse, preparing i
tself for more.
Her man.
She was pleasing her man and the concept of that when he grunted and exploded down her throat even made her pussy spasm. He kept thrusting, tugging at her hair bringing that edge of pain to her pleasure. When he stilled he immediately reached down to pull her up and into his arms, releasing her wrists so she could wind her body around him.
Dear God you have it bad. And for Jack Gordon no less.
Jack’s kisses had an economy of energy about them – he didn’t waste time trying to devour her entire mouth. He licked her lips, as his breathing evened out. He waited for her to want more and, when she grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him closer, he sighed and wrapped his hands up in her hair. He broke away and moved his lips down her neck, nuzzling and biting into her flesh. He stroked her legs, moving closer up under her skirt to her ass. When he cupped her there, caressing and squeezing, he returned his mouth’s attention to hers.
Oh my God, his lips.
Desire intoxicated her when she realized this was the longest time they’d spent on a kiss in all of their encounters. Forcing all logic deep down under a need that kept roaring in her ears, Sara sighed.
“You do something to me Sara.” His voice was raspy. “I don’t get it. I don’t even know if I like it. But I can’t get enough of it.”
She felt so alive, so incredibly sexy in these shoes, in the arms of this man desired by so many. His next words only reinforced it.
“My God, I think I could fuck you in those shoes all night.”
Suddenly nervous at the sound of laughter in the hallway, Sara stepped out of his arms and smoothed her skirt down, using some tissue in a box on his desk to clean up. She faced him, not sure what to say. Her heart raced and her mind spun.
Why couldn’t they keep their hands off each other anyway? He was so irresistible. But so wrong.
He sat, looking a little dazed and then grinned up at her, tie draped back around his neck. Glancing at the clock Sara realized it was nearly eight o’clock and the office should have emptied out. What now? Should they eat together? Snuggle on a couch? Watch a movie? Or part ways and meet up again next time he was horny?
New Sara was sated, but something else tugged at her subconscious. A need to flee his presence, but at the same time to crawl up into his lap and be petted like a housecat. The two impulses warred, making her dizzy and angry. She had a moment of pure panic. As if sensing it, Jack tugged her into his lap, kissed her neck and held her close.
“Relax baby,” he muttered into her ear. “Like I said – I can promise fun. No need to get worked up.” He grinned at her and Sara’s inner alarm clanged. “So, is it a Mexican food night again?”
She arranged her face into a frown, concocting excuses to escape.
“I suppose, but I’m going to yoga at six tomorrow so I wanted to be home early.”
“Yeah, you like the sweaty hour and a half of torture?” He ran a finger down her cheek, jaw, neck.
“No, but I can already see the benefits, so I’m gonna keep going.” She moved away off his lap and sat down in the other chair.
She needed something from him, something she knew damn good and well he’d never give her. He could play at controlling, dominating, being the master of her body but the Jack Gordon did not make emotional connections with women, only physical ones. She realized she should get far away from there before she sunk any deeper. All her own brave talk about merely wanting the base connection with him she’d thrown at her brother was lost in a haze of desire for something more – something she swore she’d never, ever expect from a man again.
He stared at her, confusion evident in his face.
“What? Let’s go, I’m starving. I haven’t eaten since the fruit bowl this morning.”
“You know what, Jack, I’m going to pass on the afterglow dinner.” She reached down to adjust her shoes, gathering her Old Sara together to resist the temptation to drag out their “date.”
“Um, okay, that’s cool.”
Damn. Stop looking at me like that or I will let you fuck me again, I don’t care who watches.
The words “Don’t expect more from Jack than what’s on the surface,” careened around in her head. Her heartbeat refused to slow. This was her chance. She should take it. Tell him how she really felt. Tell him…what? A familiar panic rose in her throat.
Why can’t it be simple? Why can’t you open your mouth and speak?
But her need for space to think, to process how she felt, overwhelmed her desire to go anywhere else with him.
“You sure? I wanted to try out this new place with you, my little hot pepper lover.”
It was her turn to grin.
“Yep, but thanks anyway.” She grasped the tie that he now had draped around his neck, pulling his mouth to hers for a tantalizing final kiss. She broke it off, turned on her heel and exited, not looking around to see who was watching.
Waving at the remaining agents gathered around a computer, Sara breezed out the door, only barely resisting the extreme temptation to turn around and race back to him. While Old Sara congratulated her on her resolve, both Saras missed the rare look of disappointment and frustration that crossed Jack’s face as he watched her leave.
Jack braced himself against the doorjamb and watched her sashay out, his heartbeat still ringing in his ears from that monster climax. Passing a hand over his face, he eased back inside and shut the door. The room held the essence of their lust, and he took in a deep breath of it, wanting to hold it in his memory banks. Then, one word surged through his brain: mistake.
Huge, colossal error in judgment.
He never should have done it. She wasn’t ready. Hell, he wasn’t ready. He obviously was no fucking good at it anymore if he couldn’t even get her to stick around after this last encounter. He wanted to talk, to feed her dinner with his own fingers, to take her home with him. He stood, stretched and relished the deep relaxation in his back and hips that only a truly gargantuan orgasm can offer.
Every deal was important to Jack, and he sensed the same thing about Sara. When that piece of shit appraisal had hit his inbox, he couldn’t resist a little thrill of excitement, knowing they would have to work together to fix the potentially colossal problem.
He had tried to tamp down his rising desire at having her in his personal space again, focusing on the task. But when he smelled her perfume the minute she walked into his building, he knew he was a goner. He wanted more than anything to see that well-fucked look again, and decided he was going to make it happen.
He had forced himself to stay away from her since their little picnic. The scary sense of falling down a dark hole, of losing control, of letting go and giving in to her completely was something he couldn’t face. Because one thing he did know about his own kink, or fetish or whatever you wanted to call it – there was more to it than one person in control, and one releasing it. Both parties had to be invested in both sides of the coin, if they were doing it correctly.
So, he dealt with it in the way he’d adopted in years past. Push it away, far away, and stay the hell away from the woman causing it. He’d spent a boring Fourth of July with a few buddies up at Torch Lake, fishing, drinking, and poker – a regular sausage fest. Usually time with his friends set him straight. Two were still married and constantly moaning about their wives, one was divorced but with a new girlfriend no one liked. Jack was their torchbearer. The guy they lived vicariously through. But the weekend did not have the desired effect on him at all.
He had spent most of the time composing his next text to Sara, relishing their sexy contact via the phone. He loved messing with her that way, but knew it was as much for his benefit as hers. He wanted to picture her going about her business, but ready for him. Actually, that was all he did lately, which pissed him off and made him want her more. He was a walking, talking hard on the entire time, relief only coming in the shower or first thing in the morning, thanks to his good friend Lefty left hand. He took endless ribbing from his bu
ddies, but would emerge from his room or the bathroom and flip them off before grabbing another beer.
“Knocking the edge off a bit more than usual, eh Gordon?”
“Jesus, I gotta see this girl Jack, wanna share?” The general nature of the comments from the peanut gallery did nothing but aggravate him.
But with her in his office, it had taken all he had to not sweep her up in his arms, to hold her tight and beg her to go home with him. He could not for the life of him figure out why he didn’t, but the look on her face had forced him to remain nonchalant. That look – skeptical, cynical, somehow reading him for his usual shallow prick persona – it stopped him cold. He had no one but himself to blame.
He should never have gone there with her. That part of him – the part that got bone shattering release from being on top, from mastering a woman, body and soul – it was dead; killed in the flash of realization all those years ago, in the hard depths of one woman’s eyes and the sound of her derisive laughter. As he made his way to his car, the smell of Sara on his skin, memory of her sweet pussy tilted up to him, of her offering body to his control, caused his cock to stir under his trousers.
Christ, I haven’t been this constantly horny since I was senior in high school.
All he had in his head on the drive home was the gut-deep need for Sara. He wanted her, in his life, in his bed. He was counting the days until he could get inside, truly inside, her again.
8
The computer screen she’d been staring at for an hour blurred in front of Sara’s eyes. Rubbing one with the heel of her hand, she stood, giving up in disgust. The cute new guy, Craig, had been helping her with a presentation using listing information straight from the computerized multi-list system employed by realtors to find and search the housing market for data. But it had hit a glitch and wouldn’t let her download for some reason which had set her back nearly an hour on a hot Friday afternoon.
