by Ana Sparks
After an uneventful afternoon, I leave my office as the clock strikes six thirty, giving myself a bit of extra time to change before picking up my date.
At least, I’d like to consider her my date for the evening. At the same time, I feel a bit of guilt at the idea of taking advantage of the young intern. However, when she so clearly wants me, it seems difficult to think of it as taking advantage.
In my previous experience, dating employees has never ended well. I don’t want to get ahead of myself, though. Her desire for me may be obvious, but it’s less clear whether Aimee sees me as anything more than a conquest. I’m not one to have self-doubt often, but Aimee brings out a new side of me, and I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not.
Pulling into the lot, I walk briskly towards the elevator to my penthouse apartment. I keep an eye on my watch as the elevator moves up through the numerous floors. I’ll have to move quickly if I plan to pick Aimee up on time, and I have no intention of standing her up. As soon as the elevator reaches the correct floor, I stride into my apartment.
Taking a brief moment to sift through my wardrobe, I grab something refined yet more casual than my work attire. I then walk into the bathroom, spraying on some cologne and swiftly changing clothes. As I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I realize I look more excited than I have in…hell, possibly years.
Checking my watch a final time, I rush back to the elevator and to the parking lot. I bypass my everyday car, moving to where my black sports car sits in its usual spot. I reserve this car for special occasions, and if this isn’t a special occasion, I’m not sure what is.
The trip to Aimee’s apartment is a short one, especially traveling at twenty miles over the speed limit. Pulling in front of the apartment complex, I text Aimee to let her know I’ve arrived. I step out of the car, circling around to wait for her.
When she steps out of the building, my breath catches in my throat. She’s dressed in a simple black cocktail dress, and though it’s not an extravagant garment, I’m certain that I’ve never seen anyone so attractive in my life.
“I didn’t know what was appropriate—is this okay?” she inquires shyly. I nod fervently, unable to find my voice for a long moment.
“You look beautiful. I’ve made reservations at Luigi’s,” I say, feeling bizarrely nervous. Her eyes widen, and she wrings her hands nervously.
“Isn’t that the super expensive place downtown? I’m not sure I can afford…” She trails off as I bark out a laugh, pulling open the passenger-side door for her.
“It’s on me tonight,” I say resolutely. Aimee looks as if she might argue, but she simply steps forward to grab me in a tight embrace before sliding into the car. I try to ignore the reddening of my cheeks, hoping it’s not as obvious as it feels.
Luigi’s is packed to the gills as usual, but we’re taken to our table in short order. Aimee is looking around the place with a sense of wonderment in her gaze, and my heart swells.
“I feel so out of place, here. Everyone is so well-dressed,” she chuckles, smiling sweetly as I pull out her chair. I pause, leaning in closer to her.
“Well, I think we make quite the pair ourselves, don’t you?” I breathe into her ear. She reddens, and I circle around to my seat, waving down a waiter to order a bottle of wine.
I pretend not to see how wide Aimee’s eyes grow when she sees the price list, and I waste no time ordering the finest vintage they have available. I plan to make this evening as enjoyable as I can.
“I certainly don’t fit in here. You’re the most handsome man in this place by far, but little old me?” She smiles coyly, and I can’t help but chuckle.
“Oh, please, Aimee. You’re absolutely gorgeous. Everyone is probably wondering what you’re doing with a geezer like me,” I retort. She looks taken aback before letting out a laugh that is decidedly loud and unladylike, and I find myself even further enamored with her.
“You’re ridiculous. You’ve just got experience under your belt; no woman in her right mind would complain about that,” she teases. The waiter pours our wine, leaving the bottle and taking our dinner order. “I certainly don’t mind,” Aimee continues as he walks off.
I’m unable to smother the smug little grin that curls over my lips, and she looks adorably pleased with herself.
“Well, experience does go a long way in the real estate world,” I say, playing oblivious to her true meaning. She hums softly in acknowledgement, sipping her wine.
For the first time, she seems entirely at ease in my company. What I would give to have her look so happy every time we’re together.
When our food arrives, the banter between us slows a bit. She savors her food, and I savor her company.
“That was delicious. You really are too good to me, Carson. There has to be some way I can pay you back,” she says as she finishes her meal. She dabs at her perfect pink mouth with a napkin, her lips curled into a smirk.
It doesn’t take a genius to realize what she’s implying, but I can’t help feeling hesitant. I meet her gaze, pursing my lips as I struggle to formulate a response.
Do I want to sleep with her? God, yes. Of course I do; any man with a bit of sense would love to have her. I just don’t want to be the dirtbag I’ve been in the past. I’ve had enjoyable flings, sure, but I’ve never really felt a connection like I feel with Aimee. I don’t want to take advantage of her infatuation with me.
I brace myself to tell her as much, but the desire in her eyes is sending a very distracting tingle throughout my body.
If I refuse her, that might just make her want me more, so how do I handle this?
Chapter Seven
Aimee
Carson is obviously torn by my proposition, and I appreciate that, to an extent. However, when he looks as if he’s ready to let me down gently, I reach out to rest my hand atop his. His parted lips close, and he looks at our joined hands. I curl my fingers around his, stroking my thumb against the back of his hand.
“Something is bothering you,” I murmur, and he exhales sharply.
He shifts his hand to grip my own, meeting my gaze earnestly. The warmth of his touch sends pleasant tingles through my body, and I draw my eyes upwards with an easy smile.
“Am I that obvious?” he asks, looking entirely displeased with his transparency. I chuckle, idly stroking his hand as I grow hyper-aware of the people surrounding us.
“Is it that you’re not attracted to me?” I inquire hesitantly, not sure I want to hear the answer.
His eyes widen and he shakes his head fervently. I smother a giggle, trailing off into a quiet gasp as he raises my hand to his lips. He brushes his lips across the back of my knuckles, and I watch the subtly shifting emotions that cross his face.
“Of course not. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met,” he breathes, resting his cheek against my palm.
I take the cue to cup his cheek, caressing my thumb against the slightly stubbly skin there. He allows his eyes to flutter shut, lips curled in a soft smile.
“I’ve never been as attracted to a woman in my life,” he says with ease, and in spite of myself, I hold no doubt that he is being sincere. I can only wonder what troubles him about my advances when he seems so at ease in my company.
“Then what’s bothering you?” I ask, giving voice to the thought.
He draws away from my touch, keeping his grip on my hand. It’s almost comical how large his hands are in comparison to mine, but I focus on his face. He appears to be heavily weighing his options, seeming to debate whether to be upfront about what, precisely, is on his mind.
“Come on, Carson. We’re past the point of being shy around each other, wouldn’t you say? You can tell me what’s on your mind,” I assure him. He seems to consider my words, breathing a sigh.
“I just don’t want to be some sleazeball boss,” he mutters, and I tilt my head, encouraging him to continue. “I’ve dated employees before. It’s never gone well. Granted, I’ve never felt as enamored as I feel
with you…” he trails off.
A brief surge of jealousy washes over me, but I realize that there is little I can do but take him for his word. I can only believe him when he says I’m somehow different.
Granted, since I first met him, it’s become clear that it isn’t his first time around the block. While I can only hope I present something new and exciting, I can only muse that Carson could have any woman he desired. Then again, perhaps that’s what makes this so special. The fact that he’s chosen me.
Carson seems sincere in his desire to treat me as an equal, and not as though I were just any woman he’s encountered previously. I have no doubts regarding how intensely I want him, and it’s obvious from the dark desire in his eyes that he wants me just as badly.
“If I didn’t trust you, I wouldn’t suggest…” I trail off, not wanting to be awfully blunt in the crowded restaurant. I’ve never exactly considered an older man sexy before, never been with someone more than two years older than me, but I find that I’m tempted to make an exception for Carson Sharpe. “I want you,” I say more quietly, putting as much feeling as I possibly can in my assertion.
He lifts a brow, looking vaguely taken aback.
“I just want to be certain that you’re sure,” he says quietly. “I don’t want you to regret this. If we were to return to work, unable to face each other…I don’t know that I could properly handle that.”
I chuckle softly, meeting his gaze with an expression that I can only hope conveys how strongly I feel.
“Nothing could make me regret being with you, Carson. I have confidence that we’ll manage to keep things professional at work, regardless of what happens between us,” I murmur.
Seemingly convinced, he looks at me with barely concealed desire.
“All right. What do you say we get out of here, then?” he suggests, flagging down the waiter.
He places a wad of cash in the younger man’s hands, telling him to keep the change. The waiter’s eyes widen, as if he’s never seen that much money in his life. Hell, I’m sure he hasn’t. Carson slides out of his chair, offering me his arm with a sly smile. I can see the arousal glimmering in his eyes, and I try to contain my own excitement.
It’s really happening. I’m going to sleep with my gorgeous billionaire boss, Carson Sharpe. I never could have expected this. Even now, as he guides me to his luxurious car, I can only wonder how I’ve come to this point.
All of my willpower is required to stop myself from locking lips with him as soon as we’re seated in the car. I reach out, resting my hand on his thigh. He breathes a shuddering sigh, curling his hands around the steering wheel.
“Is my place all right?” he asks quietly, and I pretend to consider the question very deeply as I stroke my hand up and down his inner thigh.
He tenses, and my eyes nearly bulge from my head as I take in the size of his member, which is now straining against his slacks. My hand quakes on his leg, and I try to control myself, try to keep a hold on the situation.
“That sounds wonderful,” I reply, my mouth dry. His jaw is clenched and he nods silently, shifting the car into reverse to back out of the parking lot.
We surge out onto the main street, the lights of the city flashing past us as we careen down the road. It’s obvious that Carson is struggling to keep his attention on the road as I sink my fingernails into the fabric of his pants.
I draw my hand away, more for my own benefit than to give him any reprieve. I’m not sure I’ll be able to control myself any longer if I allow my hand to remain on his thigh. Glancing at me from the corner of his eye, he pulls into a large parking compound before veering into a space that has a sign marking it as reserved.
He grabs me by the front of my cocktail dress, nearly yanking me entirely across the center console as he presses his lips to mine. I gasp against his parted lips, tangling my hands in his hair. He kisses me as if my lips are the oasis he has craved while wandering in a vast desert. I whimper into his mouth, and he draws away with a vaguely dazed expression.
“Not here,” he mutters urgently, and I nod as I unfasten my seatbelt.
Carson lurches out of the driver’s side door, meeting me at the back end of the car and sweeping me into his arms once more. He can’t seem to keep his hands off of me, and it’s all I can do not to shout his name to the heavens as his hands caress my ass. He draws me close, so close that I can feel the throbbing of his manhood through the thin layers of fabric between us.
Seeming to have a moment of doubt, he draws back just enough to look me in the eye.
“I’m giving you one last opportunity to back out,” he gasps, his voice ragged.
I smile, grabbing him by the front of his shirt and pulling him against me once more. He presses me back against his car, nudging a knee between my thighs.
“I’ll take that as a no,” he murmurs against my ear, stepping back with a sensual smile and seeming to regain his composure as he leads me into the building.
It’s all I can do to keep my hands to myself as we slip into the elevator, but he seems to have fewer qualms with the risk of being seen in a compromising position. He grabs me by the hip, jerking me towards him with a soft growl. I hop up, wrapping my legs around him with the slight support of the handrail inside the elevator. As we kiss, he smacks my ass, the sensation staggering even through my dress.
When we reach Carson’s floor, he lurches out of the elevator, carrying me into his apartment. Our tongues tangle as he captures my lips again, and his experience in this department starkly contrasts mine.
It’s clear he knows his way around a woman’s body, while I’ve only had scarce contact with men. I’m not a virgin by any means, but Carson holds a talent that I can only attribute to his age.
Before I even realize what’s happening, we’re in his bedroom. He twists around, falling backwards onto the plush pillow top of his mattress. He grazes his teeth on my lower lip, and I cry out as his hands slip under the edge of my dress.
“No panties, Aimee? You naughty thing,” he scolds, and I redden at the comment.
Before I can reply, his nimble fingers press between my outer lips, caressing my already swollen clit. I buck against him, burying my face in his chest as he pleasures me with his hand.
“Is that all you’ve got?” I whisper, meeting his gaze daringly as he stops the motion of his fingers.
I reach down, gripping the bottom of my dress and pulling it off over my head. His hand swiftly moves to the clasp of my bra, snapping it undone and allowing my breasts to fall free. It seems to be going so fast, but I want him more than I’ve ever wanted anyone in my life. If the brief fondling between my thighs was any indication, it’s clear that he knows how to play me.
“I thought you might like to set the pace,” he murmurs, palming my breast in his hand. I arch against him, eyes fluttering shut as my hips move of their own accord.
“You don’t seem the type to give up control so easily,” I gasp, reaching between us to fidget with the button of his pants. The swell of his arousal is nestled comfortably at the apex of my thighs, but there are decidedly too many layers between us. He chuckles, crossing his arms behind his head and watching me with mirth in his gaze.
“I’m just letting you do the hard work. After all, isn’t that your job?” he says smoothly. I blush, but offer little argument as I work his pants down his hips. “Eager, aren’t you?” he comments idly, reaching up to slowly unbutton his shirt.
Before he can completely unfasten the garment, I rip the remainder of it apart. His eyes widen in surprise, but I lean down and graze my teeth against his throat.
“I’m not known for my patience, though I’m sure you’ve figured that out by now,” I whisper. He chuckles, tracing his fingers around my erect nipples.
“We have all night, love,” he points out, and my heart swells at the pet name. In spite of his suddenly apparent desire to take things slow, as I grip his length in my hand, he utters a guttural groan. His hips jerk slightly, but he seems t
o regain control of himself as he meets my gaze. “But I won’t keep you from what you want,” he says slyly.
I grin, adjusting my hips to hover above his manhood.
“Do you have a condom?” I inquire softly, afraid of ruining the mood. He nods, quickly reaching over to the bedside table. He produces one, ripping it open with his teeth before rolling the material down his impressive length. “Thank God,” I breathe, lowering myself onto him with little further preamble.
“Jesus, Aimee,” he gasps, sinking his nails into the flesh on my hips. I bite my lip as I take him completely inside of me, adjusting to his girth. When our hips meet, a sense of fulfillment washes over me and I can’t help but smile.
“Are you sure you want me to do all the work?” I tease, wiggling my hips slightly. He groans in pleasure, shifting our positions to pin me against the sheets.
“Well, that wouldn’t be entirely gentlemanly,” he smirks. Then, he jerks his hips back before swiftly plunging back into me.
A strangled cry spills past my lips, and it’s all I can do to keep from screaming his name as he begins to relentlessly pound into me. Neither of us can form words in the moment, simply gasping and moaning as our bodies work together like a well-oiled machine.
Feeling myself reaching my peak almost embarrassingly soon, I try to fight the inevitable. Carson seems to notice the slight shift in my demeanor and smiles knowingly. He angles his hips just so, quickening the pace of his thrusts. A girlish squeal erupts from my lips before he silences me with a kiss. My entire body quakes with ecstasy as my orgasm rips through me, and I find myself clenching around his member.
He grunts my name, hilting himself inside of me as he shoots his load. His mouth hangs agape, his eyes closed in a blissful expression. I want nothing more than to kiss him, and I oblige my own desires, capturing his lips with my own.
It’s the most passionate kiss I’ve ever had in my life, and I’m stricken with the sudden realization that I don’t want this to be a one-night stand. While I’m not exactly thinking in terms of a relationship, it’s impossible to argue against this being the best sex I’ve ever had.
