Office Player

by Eden Summers

  No, he’d been falling in love with her.

  His father’s words still rang in his ears—a woman willing to take money to sleep with another man isn’t someone you want to waste your time on, son.

  The heat increased in his veins, turning his desire into a challenge to win.

  Couldn’t the old bastard see Beth was different?

  She was too innocent, too sweet, too much of a kindhearted woman under all that sassy exterior.

  There was no way in hell he would let his father touch her, let alone fuck her.

  No. Way. In. Hell.

  He pulled back, breaking the kiss to rest his forehead against hers. They stood in silence, their chests heaving, their breath mingling.

  She glanced at him with wide eyes, her fingers clinging to his shirt as if she would crumple to the floor without the tight grasp.

  Nothing would take this away from him. He refused to let anything come between them again. Not work. Not his pride. And definitely not his family.

  She had been his since their first kiss. She knew it. He knew it. His father probably knew it, too, which would explain the conniving proposition.

  There was no turning back this time.

  He gripped her chin and spoke against her lips. “I won’t let him have you.”

  Chapter 5

  Dean’s words were a cold dose of reality.

  When he first entered her room, he’d sent her reeling, making it a struggle not to drown in arousal.

  Now she didn’t know what to think. It sounded like he was trying to prove a point. To win a challenge against his father that he didn’t need to compete in. Surely, he couldn’t be that cruel.

  Before she could open her mouth to question his motives, he moved his hands, sliding them over her shoulders and down to grip her ass.

  Her concentration disappeared and the tingling his touch inspired overtook her unease.

  His mouth lowered to hers again, lips plundering, tongue more demanding, and the inner muscles of her thighs tightened in response. He ground into her, the hard length of him still clearly felt through his clothes and her towel.

  He lifted her, the hands on her ass sliding lower to guide her thighs around his waist while they kissed. She locked her ankles around his butt and clung to him.

  The towel started to stretch, creeping up her legs until her most intimate flesh became exposed. Her cheeks heated, the warmth descending from her neck to pool in her chest.

  She needed to yank the material down, to cover herself, and in equal measure she didn’t want to draw attention and show her sexual shyness.

  She wasn’t a virgin by any means, but her lovers had been few and far between. And if she compared herself to Dean, her tally would be closer to the Virgin Mary’s.

  The reminder of her inexperience made it hard to concentrate. Their teeth collided, over and over. Their tongues quit moving in a choreographed rhythm. Their kiss became a mass of fumbling movements.

  “You okay?” He leaned back, his eyes reading her with concern as she willed him to keep eye contact.

  Please, do not look down.

  “Yes.” She gave him a jerky nod.

  He paused, scrutinizing her before he tilted his face again, moving in for another kiss. She let out a barely audible sigh as he moved closer, their lips almost brushing. But he didn’t bridge the distance. Instead, his head continued to slant into hers, his gaze drifting lower, down her body to take in her spread sex.

  The lustful rumble that emanated from his chest sent the fire burning between her legs into overdrive, equal parts lust and mortification. She lifted his chin with a delicate finger, guiding his sight back to hers. His gaze was animalistic, primitive as she leaned in to distract him, planting a slow kiss on his lips.

  “Beth.” Her name was a plea. A whisper of longing that filled her with the slightest dose of strength.

  She enjoyed his torment. Absolutely loved his desire. His lust gave her the confidence to shamelessly run her tongue along his lip, nipping it with her teeth until his moan echoed through her.

  He turned, walking them toward the bed to lay her down on the tangled covers. Her towel held firm around her breasts, but the bottom splayed open, leaving her pussy exposed.

  On shaky elbows she leaned up and watched Dean’s eyes brazenly devour her. His nostrils flared, his jaw tightened. He was enraptured. By her.

  His intensity empowered her, giving her the confidence to let him feast a little longer.

  “Christ, you’re mesmerizing.” The huskiness of his voice sent a shiver over her skin and her heart slammed into her throat. “I could stare at you like this for hours.”

  She smiled at his compliment, but self-consciousness made it impossible to keep her legs parted. She closed her thighs, obstructing his view and allowing the insecurity to return.

  He shook his head, clucking his tongue in disapproval. “Keep them open.”

  She whimpered at the command, completely powerless to the way he made her feel gorgeous with only a few words, a few steamy touches, and a wicked gleam in his eye.

  She dropped back on the bed and had to drape an arm over her eyes while he blatantly admired her wet and throbbing sex.

  He knelt between her legs and her core clenched in response. Slowly, he spread her further and further, wider and wider, until her pulse pounded in her ears and her skin beaded with sweat.

  She could sense his gaze, could almost feel it on her heated skin.

  The brush of his lips scorched her knee, his lips burning a trail along her inner thighs. Soft kisses turned to teasing nips while his hands slid down her calves to grip her ankles. He guided her legs over his shoulder, skyrocketing her apprehension and arousal.

  His ascent was torture. The licking. The nuzzling. All the way to her core.

  Then he stopped.

  He didn’t move. Didn’t speak.

  She dropped her arm from her eyes, waiting, wondering what he would do next.

  His gaze met hers as he hovered his mouth an inch away from her opening. His heavy breathing ran over her, each exhalation touching her like a finger through her folds.

  She squirmed, needing penetration.

  Needing something.

  Anything.

  He maintained eye contact as his tongue flicked out, taking a long, ruthless swipe of her heat.

  Pleasure shot through her. The tingles and wildfire burning nerves and skin and organs.

  He moved closer, delved deeper. First one stroke, then two. Each lash of his tongue became harder, faster, more demanding, making the need to grind her thighs together unbearable.

  “Dean.” Her voice filled with raw hunger. She was falling apart and soaring on a high, needing more, yet not wanting it to end.

  He trailed a hand over her waist, to the edge of the towel and gave a firm yank.

  She gasped, his movement pulling her forward, sending his tongue drilling into her slick channel while the towel loosened and fell to her sides.

  She leaned up on shaky elbows and watched the delicate exploration of his fingers. His hand slid over her belly, caressing her ribs, teasing the underside of her breast before cupping and firmly grasping.

  He was relentless, his hand kneading, squeezing, and lightly pinching. His mouth found her clit—sucking, blowing—until pleasure had her back arched off the bed.

  Her body was in agonizing bliss, caught between the need for climax and the greed for this euphoria to continue.

  She wanted more, wanted everything, and wanted it only from this man.

  “Let go for me.” His other hand found her heat, trailing light strokes up and down, up and down before breeching her slit.

  The hand on her breast, the mouth on her clit, the fingers in her pussy… It all became too much.

  She fell, plummeting over the edge, losing herself to ecstasy. Pleasure wracked her body, consuming every pore. She grasped the hand at her breast and clenched her thighs. Greedy, so greedy for more.

  And still his mouth
continued to devour, his fingers penetrating, his hand squeezing. She closed her eyes, shamelessly grinding into him, over and over, until the spasms faded and reality seeped in.

  Dean’s hands, mouth, and heat abandoned her at the same time, and she couldn’t bring herself to open her eyes. Doubt and fear clawed their way into her mind.

  What would happen on Monday?

  How would he act after this?

  She closed her legs and turned them to the side in a vain attempt to hide. Then she increased her cowardice by placing her hands over her face to ward off the shame and stupidity.

  She had been strong for so long, resisting his charms. Then in one moment of weakness, all her hard work had burned to ash. She couldn’t stand the thought of opening her eyes and seeing his smirk of satisfaction.

  And the whiplash… It was remarkable. One minute her love life had been nonexistent; the next she was mistress material, and in a blink of an eye she was shamelessly grinding against Dean’s face.

  His handsome, talented face.

  Jesus Christ.

  No wonder women flocked to him.

  His cockiness was clearly justified.

  The grate of a zipper startled her from her internal tirade. She dropped her hands from her face and clutched to find the towel to sit against on the edge of the mattress.

  He stood at her feet, bare-chested and on display for her greedy gaze to devour, his fingers still gripping his lowered zipper.

  She wanted to moan at the perfection, at the sun-darkened skin, the strong frame, and the light trail of hair traveling down from his navel.

  He lowered his pants, displaying the erection jutting from the top of his gray boxer briefs. She kept her sight centered on the juncture of his thighs, prolonging the fantasy as long as she could, unable to meet the arrogance she expected to see on his face.

  Her heart thundered as he shoved his trousers below his ass, down a damn fine pair of tanned, muscular legs before they fell in a heap on the floor.

  Her eyes feasted, taking in the dips and curves, the hardness, the beauty.

  A glint of silver in his hand caught her attention and held. He grasped a foil packet, and the end result to his striptease finally cemented in her mind.

  Her throat dried as she raised her gaze. She expected to see smug satisfaction, at least a hint of arrogance.

  What she found was entirely different. There was no cocky grin, no gleam in his eye, no heated smile. He stood there, emotionally bare, his face a mix of undeniable lust and insecurity.

  “Dean, I…”

  Can’t?

  Shouldn’t?

  Her mind volunteered responses that wouldn’t move past her throat. She was a mess, not only mesmerized by his body but by his vulnerable expression.

  The playboy was still there, threateningly close in his confident stance, yet his eyes held a glimmer of the same fragility filling her chest. He remained silent, his gaze unwavering as he cocked a brow in question.

  When no words came, he moved forward, his determination masking the uncertainty. He nudged her feet apart with his knee, his straining boxers begging to be touched.

  “You what?” he murmured. “You want my mouth back on your sweet pussy? You want me inside you? You want me to make you scream again?”

  Scream?

  Again?

  Her pulse raced with their contrasting opinions of how this interlude would end. She needed to tell him to leave, even after what they had shared. She needed to make him understand their working relationship wouldn’t stand a chance if sex became involved.

  It was better, for them both, if they simply pretended this never happened.

  His fingers reached out, trailing along her jaw, under her chin, to lift until she peered into his eyes.

  He shook his head. “I’ve wanted to be here for a long time. In your house. In your bed.” His thumb caressed her bottom lip. “I can tell what you’re thinking, and you’re wrong. This isn’t a mistake.”

  He leaned down, kissing her, soft and slow and sweet. She could taste her arousal on his lips, and smell the musky scent on his skin. It was all too much. The surplus pleasure. The glut of lust.

  “We’re good together. You know we are.” His words became a whisper as he continued to kiss her with delicate splendor, decimating her doubt and making her yearn for more. “You can feel it just as much as I can.”

  He was right. She could feel it. But that didn’t mean what they were doing was appropriate.

  Regret would hound them in the aftermath. So much regret.

  And still she couldn’t back away when his mouth pressed harder, his tongue moving in an adamant glide against hers. She released her grip on the towel with a tiny mewl of capitulation.

  Continuing was a mistake, yet the need flowing through her veins wouldn’t allow her to stop.

  He shucked his boxer briefs without parting their lips, his hasty movements adding to the urgency. She maneuvered onto her knees, gliding her fingers into his hair, holding him close while she scooted back on the bed.

  He followed, making the mattress dip from his weight. With strong hands he gripped her hips, pivoting her to place her back against the pillows.

  Their teeth clanged on the descent, his hard chest pressing into her.

  As their teeth and tongues clashed, he encouraged her to spread her thighs, and then knelt between them.

  He broke the kiss and planted soft pecks on her lips before pulling back to rest on his haunches. He looked deep into her eyes and tore the condom wrapper with his teeth.

  Her focus followed his hands, the way he firmly grasped his cock and started covering his length.

  Her throat went dry at the sight of him, thick and long. His erection was larger than she anticipated, standing proud from the nest of dark curls at the base of his shaft. She couldn’t deny her apprehension over his size, but her skin also tingled in excitement knowing he would soon be inside her.

  She swallowed, trying to contain herself, hoping her adrenaline would die down so her heart would slow its incessant pounding. Then he grinned at her, his eyes glowing with enthusiasm, and her heart had no chance of recovering.

  “Tell me you want this.” The strength of his tone wavered, betraying the confidence he tried to exude.

  She swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded. She did want this. She just didn’t want to think of the consequences.

  When he moved on top of her, positioning his hard length against her, her whole body shuddered. With a deep breath she let go of her conscience. There would be time to wallow later.

  Her toes curled and her nipples tingled with impatient desire as she tried not to beg to be taken. His mouth found her neck, his teeth scraping the erogenous zone at the juncture of her shoulder.

  She nuzzled into him, nipping his earlobe, taking it into her mouth as she arched her back. He continued to torment her, his hand finding her breast while he took over teasing her entrance with his shaft. Lightly pushing and retreating, pushing and retreating until she couldn’t take it anymore.

  Running her hands up his back to his shoulders, she sank her nails in, delighting at the hiss of breath against her skin and the deeper thrust of his hardness.

  He responded by nibbling her neck, the mix of pleasure and pain causing her to whimper. “Tell me you want this.”

  She moaned her response, wanting to scream in ecstasy when the thick head of him penetrated her, stopping just inside her opening. Wrapping her legs around his hips, she lifted her ass, trying to find the penetration her body craved, needing him deeper.

  He wouldn’t allow it.

  “Tell me.” His voice taunted her. He pulled back to lean on one elbow, their stomachs no longer touching.

  Unable to deny him, to deny herself, she whimpered, “Yes.”

  She arched her back, her body thrumming, trying to regain the heavenly friction. He continued to caress her breast, squeezing her nipple.

  She couldn’t help pleading, “Yes, I want this. I want this
so much.”

  The full weight of his body moved over her, his mouth eagerly claiming hers while he nudged her entrance. Then with one deep stroke, he plunged inside.

  The air left her lungs, and he replied with a savage groan. He began to thrust, a slow, delicious onslaught that had her nails sinking deeper into his skin.

  She floated in a dreamy state of reality. The man she lusted after, the one she wanted more than anyone was in her bed and making love to her.

  “You’re driving me crazy,” he groaned. “I’m worried this won’t last long.”

  A smile tipped her lips, and she hoped her gratitude over his ability to make her confident in this situation was evident on her face. No other man had made her feel this feminine and wanton. The sense of empowerment made her giddy, demanding her to push the limits of his control.

  Deliberately clamping her muscles down on him, squeezing his hardness tighter, she relished his moan. Adored the way his whole body tensed while her thighs gripped his waist.

  “Ahh, Beth.” He paused his thrusts. “You’re killing me.”

  Dying to give them both release, she gyrated her hips, the sensation sending her close to the precipice. She grasped his ass in her hands and pulled him closer, wanting him deeper.

  Needing him.

  He obeyed, answering her unspoken command by driving into her, filling her completely before retreating and doing it again.

  His thrusts increased in pace, in strength, in urgency. Their bodies shone with sweat. He pinched one of her nipples, the bite of pain ripping a scream from her lungs. The orgasm took over her body, making her core pulse in incessant fury. Her vision splintered as he continued to make love to her, each thrust adding to her pleasure until moments later he yelled his own release.

  He smothered butterfly kisses along her jaw, her neck, her shoulder as his movements slowed, then stopped. With her eyes still closed she released a contented sigh and measured her breathing, inhaling the new scent of Dean and sweat and sex.

  She lay boneless and sated, practically purring in contentment. She had always enjoyed sex, the intimacy and pleasure that a lover could provide, but what they just shared had been an entirely different experience.