Burned Deep

by Calista Fox

  “You really notice stuff like that?”

  “When it comes to you,” he said, his gaze deep and intent, “yes.”

  I pulled in a steadying breath.

  “Sharing you isn’t a possibility.”

  “You don’t have to share me,” I assured him. “You wanted exclusivity. I’m not my mother. I’m not a cheater. But…”

  Dare I ask the question practically burning a hole in my head?

  He eyed me speculatively. “But what?”

  I swallowed hard. I risked pissing him off further, but I just had to know. “You didn’t call me all weekend. If you had a table at the fund-raiser that likely means you had a … a date. I want the same terms from you that you demand of me—mutual exclusivity.”

  God, that sounded so small and petty. Yet, it wasn’t. Not when it came to Dane. The mere thought of another woman on his arm, even just for social appearances, shredded me. I didn’t even want him to notice other women, let alone be with one.

  Which meant it took all the willpower I possessed not to bring up Mikaela—and ask if she’d been at the fund-raiser as well.

  In a tight voice, he said, “I’ve made my intentions very clear. I gave you some space this weekend. Under no circumstances should that ever be misconstrued as me being with another woman. Ever.”

  His green gaze bored into me and my pulse jumped.

  “It was strictly business,” Dane added, “with associates. No date.”

  “Oh.” I inhaled deeply. “Okay.” I was extremely unnerved to discover I had a jealous streak. There’d never been any cause for it before. Yet with Dane I was filled with anxiety just thinking of the number of batting eyelashes that came his way.

  “Ari,” he said, snagging my attention. “That is absolutely the last thing you have to worry about.”

  Thank God, because I already had a lengthy list of worries.

  “Fine. But that goes for you, too. Especially where Kyle is concerned.”

  “About that—”

  “Hey,” I said with a somewhat imploring look. “What happened to giving me anything I wanted?”

  His eyes smoldered. “You’re going to owe me for this one.” Then he got to his feet and sauntered off.

  Leaving me dying of curiosity to know what that meant.

  * * *

  “More catalogs for you, Miss DeMille.”

  “Ari is fine, Jason. And thank you.”

  The mail clerk hefted a stack of high-end catalogs I’d ordered off the Internet that contained holiday and other decorations. I’d decided that in addition to jumping on hiring staff, I needed to quickly formulate a plan for all the Christmas and event accessories. Since the pre-launch activities occurred prior to New Year’s Eve, around Christmastime, and we’d no doubt leave up the decorations into the first week of January at least—it was an easy theme with which to work. But I’d need lots of decorations and, knowing it’d take some time to wade through all of the offerings, sooner rather than later was my current motto.

  Jason left me and I started scouring the pages, ripping them out whenever something caught my eye. Several hours passed and my conference table was covered with images. I hadn’t even made it all the way through my stack.

  I glanced at the wall behind me, eyeing the space.

  “Assessing pictures to hang?”

  My head whipped around. Dane stood just inside my office, closing the door behind him. Since it had an automatic lock, excitement gripped me. It was after seven and I suspected most everyone on the floor had gone home.

  Trying not to sound all breathy and awestruck at the sight of him, I said, “I was just thinking that I need corkboard on the wall so I can hang some of these decoration ideas. I need them staring me in the face to help spark my creativity.”

  “I’ll take care of it,” he said.

  “I’m sure you have more important things to do.”

  “At the moment, yes.” He crossed to the tall windows and pulled the drapes. The room immediately dimmed, since the chandelier was the only light I had on and it was at a low setting.

  I didn’t have time to process all the electric undercurrents running rampant at his suggestive gaze. He popped the buttons on his suit jacket and I just about incinerated at his feet.

  Moving closer, he reached for my hand and pulled me to him.

  “We really shouldn’t at the office,” I weakly protested.

  “You don’t leave me many options when you work late.”

  “I have a lot to do.”

  “Mm, so do I.” His eyes dropped to my mouth. “Starting here.” His warm lips brushed over mine.

  Our lips tangled. Slowly. Seductively. Had it been anyone else guiding me in this direction, I would have said it was pointless to try to engage me in this manner.

  But I wasn’t dealing with just anyone.

  Dane knew how to draw me in, completely and provocatively. So that I eased toward him, wanting more. So that I responded by curling my fingers around his biceps, hating that his suit jacket kept me from getting a better grip on him.

  His tongue swept over my bottom lip and a moan lodged in my throat. He took that as encouragement and his tongue slipped inside, twisting and teasing. His arms slid around my waist and he hauled me up against his solid chest and abs.

  The kiss went on and on. Becoming more seductive. More searing. More powerful.

  In the hazy part of my mind, I finally understood why I’d never gotten seriously involved with anyone. No one had ever affected me like this. No one had ever kissed me like this. So that my hold on him tightened and I met the changing inclination of his head, testing all the different angles, not breaking the intimate contact. So that I tasted him, breathed him in, experienced all the passionate nuances of a scorching kiss that pushed everything from my mind except the excitement coursing through my veins and the feel of Dane responding so vehemently, so skillfully, that I could think of nothing but him.

  I didn’t even hesitate, didn’t balk, when he led me to the sofa, still kissing me deeply. The backs of my legs bumped the couch and we eased down onto the plump cushion. I rested against the pile of pillows in the corner, the satin quilt beneath me. His fingers grazed my bare thigh, at the hem of my skirt.

  The incessant throbbing within me began again. I instinctively clenched my legs together in hopes of staving it off, to somehow quell or slow the need building much too quickly.

  He broke our kiss and against my lips simply muttered, “Ari.”

  My eyelids fluttered open. His gaze was fixed on me. Fiery and demanding.

  “Don’t stop me.”

  My chest rose and fell in sharp, staccato beats that matched my heart. My pulse jumped at pressure points that made me insanely aware of how much I wanted him, how much I didn’t want to stop him.

  But my legs remained pressed together.

  He kissed me again and it sizzled. We sizzled. I got ridiculously caught up in the heat of the moment, swept away by the sort of sexual chemistry that made sensible women do irrational things. Like shove a man’s suit jacket over his shoulders and down his arms as he continued to do sinful things with his tongue. Like fumble hopelessly with the buttons on his shirt, fingers trembling because I wanted him so much that he had to help.

  As the material hung open, I ran my hands all over his hard chest, his cut abs, even reaching around to his back and splaying my palms over muscles that flexed beneath my touch.

  He was so hot, so beautifully chiseled. I wanted to strip him bare and crawl all over him, rubbing myself against him, feeling his skin on mine.

  He kept kissing me as though he couldn’t get enough of me. The thought sent a thrill down my spine.

  With deft fingers he undid my blouse and then palmed my breasts through the white lace of my bra. His thumbs swept over my pebbled nipples, puckering them even more, making them tingle.

  Another moan welled in my throat. He dragged his mouth from mine and his lips skimmed over my jaw and down my neck, nipping along the
way.

  I was instantly restless and in desperate need of him. “Dane,” I pleaded.

  His head dipped farther and his tongue flicked over my nipple, the lace creating extra friction.

  “Oh, God.” My head fell back, my eyes closed as he lavished my breasts with fluttering licks, then deep suckling. I writhed beneath him, drowning in the smell of him, the feel of him. Losing myself in the erotic sensations burning through me.

  He squeezed my breasts roughly, conveying urgency, impatience. A sharp moan fell from my lips. My fingers plowed through his messy hair. I felt his erection against my leg and I knew this wasn’t going to be slow and leisurely. It would be fevered and intense, like Friday night.

  “You have a sensational body. I want to see all of it. All of you.”

  He whisked off my blouse and bra. Shoved my skirt down my hips as I raised them. He tossed my clothes aside. I was sprawled on the gold satin quilt in nothing more than a white lace thong and high heels. Cool air blew over the newly exposed flesh and it was a welcome relief, because I was on fire. His fingers trailed along my skin, over my quivering belly, to the apex of my legs. Enticing me, exciting me.

  His gaze held mine. His fingers skimmed over the lace.

  “Dane.” I couldn’t seem to think beyond him. Beyond my need for him.

  He stared at me in his smoldering way as I tried to catch my breath. His jaw clenched. I was held prisoner by his intensity, by the lust that rolled off him in waves.

  And then he started stroking. A featherlight touch.

  Our eyes remained locked as his fingertips gently massaged my folds, heightening the dull ache inside me. He pressed a little firmer, stroked a little faster. His lips tangled with mine again. Sexy little kisses that taunted the senses.

  My other hand shifted from his back and pressed to the side of his neck, keeping his head bent, keeping him kissing me.

  His fingers slipped behind my panties and he caressed masterfully. The skin-on-skin contact made my hips jerk. I was hypersensitive to his touch, so charged it was a wonder I didn’t vibrate from head to toe.

  He rubbed my clit with just the right amount of pressure, gradually picking up the pace to match my choppy breaths.

  My nipples tightened, begging for his attention again. My hips rolled of their own accord, silently demanding more. Lusty whimpers fell from my lips.

  His mouth glided over my chin and down my throat, kissing, biting.

  “You’re so wet for me,” he murmured.

  “Yes.”

  He eased a finger inside my pussy.

  Lightning seemed to zap my core.

  “So tight,” he said in a strained voice that was sexy as hell. He worked in a second finger and pumped quickly, deeply.

  My heavy lids fluttered closed once more. The heel of his hand massaged my clit as his fingers stroked almost forcefully. As though he needed to get me off. I felt his gaze on me as ecstasy crept around the periphery, enveloping me in its sultry embrace. I knew he watched me as my throaty moans turned erratic while he increased the sensual rhythm, pushing me right to the edge.

  “Come for me,” he said, his tone low and husky.

  “Yes. Oh, God, yes.” The tension mounted. A vibrant, blazing sensation swelled to a boiling point. Then erupted. “Dane!” I cried out as the orgasm flashed through me, powerful and pulsating. “Oh, Christ!” Everything ignited within me. He kept stroking as my inner walls contracted around his fingers, clenching and releasing while I rode out the climax.

  “Oh, shit. Dane.” I really didn’t have a clever thought in my brain—it was filled with him. “Fuck me. Please. Now.” I couldn’t stand another second of not having him inside me. I had to feel him filling and stretching me. Needed him to pump into me and make me come again.

  He slipped away and knelt on the floor. His fingers hooked in the thin strands of my thong and he tugged. I lifted my hips so he could drag the material down to my ankles. He freed me of the panties and they went the way of the rest of my outfit.

  A flicker of wicked intent in his emerald eyes made my clit tingle. His head lowered and he nipped at my inner thigh. The tingle deepened, becoming a dark, greedy sensation.

  Anticipation built as Dane’s mouth moved closer to the apex of my legs. He was about to do to me something no other man had ever done—and I wanted it. Badly.

  Yet apprehension slid through my veins. “Dane—”

  He cut me off with a look full of sexual promise.

  But I managed to tell him, “Another something I’ve never done before.”

  His gaze narrowed. “Too personal? Too intimate?”

  I nodded. Okay, so maybe I didn’t really need to explain anything to him. Maybe he just knew.

  He went back to his expert seduction, his tongue swirling over my flesh, inching closer to the spot that ached for him. It was perverse of him to toy with me like this … but I loved every tortuous second of it.

  He glanced up, spearing me with a heated expression as he issued a reminder. “Nothing off-limits, Ari.”

  I was naked on the sofa in my office, my legs spread wide. One foot was on the floor, the other on the cushion, my fingers wrapped around the heel so that I didn’t poke or rip the seat.

  As I internally searched for acceptance of this risky endeavor, this personal compromise, his cell buzzed. I started. Yet again, the outside world had ceased to exist.

  Dane glanced over his shoulder at his jacket, strewn across the coffee table. Listened a moment. Then returned his attention to me.

  “Don’t you need to get that?”

  “Not when I’m between your legs,” he said.

  I sighed. The man was all kinds of sexy.

  The phone quieted.

  “Now,” he said, “do you want me to make you come several more times, or not?”

  I sucked in a breath. He was so demanding. And so impossible to deny.

  I opened my mouth to speak. His cell started up again. Only this time, it was an actual ring. A frantic tempo that practically screamed, Don’t ignore me!

  “Fuck,” Dane hissed. “This one I have to take.”

  He didn’t move away, though. Instead, he took my hand not holding onto the shoe and kissed the inside of my wrist. My pulse soared.

  Against the sensitive flesh, he whispered, “I want you to touch yourself. I want to watch.”

  “What?” I choked out.

  “You heard me.” He placed my hand on my glistening mound and added, “Do it.” His eyes lifted to my face. “But don’t come. I’ll get you off when I’m ready.”

  “Dane—” Christ, I could barely breathe.

  “Do it. Keep me hard.”

  chapter 12

  He stood in a fluid motion and snatched his jacket from the table, extracting the iPhone.

  I wasn’t sure what to do. Here was my chance for a neat, clean escape. I could make one of my hasty retreats, gain a little space to process this latest request. Both of them, actually, because I still reeled when it came to the nothing off-limits demand.

  I could collect my panties and slip out. Except that he snatched those, too, and rubbed the damp crotch between his finger and thumb, giving me a devilish look.

  With his other thumb, he connected the angry-ring call.

  I couldn’t quite get my body moving—to leave even without my thong. I was so tightly wound with anticipation over what he intended to do. And the fact that I wanted him, despite the intensity factor that alarmed me.

  In an abrupt tone, he said into the phone, “What is it?” He listened. While his gaze was riveted on me. A dark brow jerked upward in silent challenge.

  I had no idea what possessed me—perhaps the fact that he was so magnificently gorgeous, his shirt hanging open to reveal all those sculpted muscles, and the fact that I wanted him.

  I started to rub my clit with the pads of two fingers. A slow, circular motion.

  His eyes blazed as he stared. And continued listening to his caller. Even when he spoke again, his a
ttention remained focused on what I was doing.

  “No, that’s not what I think. This is a problem. No, I don’t want you to do anything just yet. I need to assess it further.”

  He was quiet a few moments. Still watching. I dipped a finger into my pussy and stroked slowly. The fact that I was doing something like this, which went against convictions I’d clung to for so long and threatened every wall I’d built, was a bit terrifying. But I didn’t want to stop. Couldn’t stop. Because he was enthralled by it—by me—and was so hard his cock strained against the fly of his dress pants, spiking my arousal and my boldness.

  He held my panties to his nose and inhaled deeply. Liquid fire roared through my veins.

  I released the heel of my shoe and cupped my breast, squeezing as roughly as he had. Dane let out a low, sexy grunt. I rolled my nipple between my finger and thumb as I worked a second finger into my pussy and pumped a bit faster. Throaty pants escaped my lips. I swear I could come just from him staring, his jaw working rigorously, his eyes deepening in color.

  To his caller, he said in a curt voice, “Don’t do anything right now. Wait for me to contact you.” He hit the disconnect button and dropped the iPhone and my thong onto the mound his jacket created. Then he knelt between my parted thighs, his gaze on my hand as I pleasured myself. He eased in two fingers, along with mine, filling the tight canal.

  “Dane.” My hips bucked as I accepted the added pressure, the additional width that felt so amazing.

  I continued tugging on my nipple, the prickly sensation mingling with the sizzle between my legs and deep in my core.

  Dane’s free hand slid behind mine as I kept time with his quick stroking. His thumb rubbed my clit with lightning speed. He leaned forward and his mouth captured my other nipple. He suckled hard, then flicked his tongue over the aching tip. I couldn’t quite keep up with all the high-voltage zings that pushed me so, so close to another powerful orgasm.

  “Dane,” I repeated. My hips gyrated; my head fell back on the pillows. “Christ. That is unbelievably good. I’m—oh, God—I’m—”

  Cogent thought fled. Heat and vibrancy collided and exploded. I screamed his name as I reached a phenomenal peak.