That First Kiss

by J.C. Valentine

  Tate was like a man possessed as he fucked her with his mouth. He couldn’t get enough of her. For as many women as he had slept with, he’d never spent much time making sure they got off. His pleasure was more singular. But with Piper, he was driven. He wanted to see her come apart around him. He wanted to feel her release on his fingers, against his mouth, around his cock. He could think of nothing better. Her pleasure was his.

  “Tate, please,” Piper begged tugging on his hair. “More.”

  Tate flicked his tongue over her clit faster, focusing on the tight little nub. He could feel her body tensing, her legs on his shoulders locking down on him. She was close, but she needed something more. He found her aching pussy and drove his fingers inside, and his eyes rose to meet hers, watching from between her legs as she splintered apart.

  Piper’s whole body convulsed, her back arching off the sofa as she cried out his name. Her pussy became drenched, soaking his fingers. He held them inside her, relishing the feel of her clenching muscles, imagining what it was going to feel like wrapped around his cock as he came deep inside her. The thought alone threatened to pull him under into his own explosive climax.

  With one last shudder, Piper slumped into the couch cushions looking completely sated. Tate withdrew his fingers from her body and rose up on his knees. His cock was throbbing painfully. He was dying to get inside of her, to find his release, too.

  “What are you doing?” Piper asked, alarmed. She sat up and looked at him with wide eyes. Tate paused, his fingers still pinching the button of his jeans.

  “Taking my clothes off?” He was confused by her reaction.

  She shook her head adamantly. “No, you’re not.” Shoving against his chest, Piper scrambled to her feet and righted her clothing. “You need to leave now.”

  “What?” Tate stood, watching her with barely concealed rage. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?” Appearing completely unfazed by his anger, Piper stared at him with her hands propped on her hips. Like he was annoying her or something. “I just gave you a damn orgasm and you’re kicking me out?”

  “Yeah, well, I’ve had better.”

  Tate’s jaw clenched and his fists balled at his sides. He could just throttle her. “Unbelievable. You know, for someone who let me fuck them in the middle of a public bathroom, I never would have figured you to be such a bitch. I don’t know why I ever thought we could have something. I must be a fucking lunatic.”

  She slapped him, her open palm connecting with his face with a deafening crack.

  Tate took a threatening step forward, and Piper, seeing the rage in his eyes, wilted before him. The effect didn’t last long, and he watched as she drew herself up tall, her spine going rigid with determination.

  For a split second, Tate thought he might have glimpsed a spark of hurt in those brown eyes, but no, that was just merciless, unforgiving fire dancing in their dark depths. “Oh? And just what was it you thought we could have?”

  Tate smiled cruelly as he turned his back on her and swung open the front door. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” He couldn’t slam the door hard enough. Piper had made him weak, but no more.

  He didn’t bother with the elevator, opting for the stairs and taking them two at a time. He couldn’t get out of there fast enough. As Tate stormed out of the building and onto the street, he swore to never let Piper Donovan get under his skin again.

  *****

  “That douchebag called you a what?” Shelia screeched in her ear and Piper had to pull the phone away to save whatever hearing she had left.

  She had called her right after Tate left. Well, after she had stopped crying, that is. Why did his calling her a bitch and storming out cause her to act like a blubbering idiot? Hormones. That had to be it. At least that’s what she was telling herself, because the ache in her chest definitely wasn’t caused by him. Probably heartburn. “You heard me,” she said dismally.

  “Well, that asshole,” Shelia breathed down the line. Piper could practically hear the steam coming out of her ears. “And to think that I was going to do you a solid and take that piece of hotness off your hands. Well, he can just think again!”

  “Thanks, Sheila. Your generosity knows no bounds, truly.” Piper couldn’t help smiling a little. There was a reason she called this woman her friend, and it was because she always knew how to make her smile, even when it was the last thing she felt like doing.

  “That’s what I’m here for, doll.” Piper cringed at her chosen endearment, her thoughts reflecting back to when Tate had used it on her. She didn’t want to think about any of that. “So, are you going to kick his ass, or should I do the honors?”

  Piper stared at the door Tate had blown out of less than an hour ago and sighed. “I just want to forget about all of this.”

  “Well, that’ll be a piece of cake,” Sheila said sarcastically. “Considering he’s the first person you’re going to see tomorrow morning.”

  Like she needed the reminder? “I know. Believe me, I know.” She shook her head, trying to clear away the disturbing thought. “Look, I can’t think about this anymore tonight,” Piper told her truthfully, though she knew she would probably be awake all night doing just that. “Talk to you tomorrow?”

  “Of course. I’ll call you after I get off work.” There was a pause. “You’ll tell me if anyone needs their ass kicked, won’t you?”

  “You’ll be the first person I call.”

  “Good, because I’ve been thinking about taking up boxing, and I could use a dummy to practice on.”

  Piper laughed. Not just because she loved her friend and was amused by her enthusiasm to kick Tate’s ass, but also because she might actually make good on her promise and Piper would so pay to see Tate Larson be brought down a notch.

  “Goodnight,” Piper said, the smile she wore widening.

  “Sweet dreams.”

  The moment they hung up, Piper felt the weight of the day press down on her. Friendship therapy only went so far before reality slipped back in to take the reins.

  Dragging herself into her bedroom, Piper began getting ready for bed. She was tired, but she felt more wide awake than ever. She didn’t look forward to what the morning would bring. Facing Tate, working beside him, after everything that had happened was bound to be a lesson in patience. From what she had learned of the man, he was hard to deal with on a good day. After tonight, she figured it would be wise to prepare for the absolute worst.

  17

  There’s a reason people hate Mondays, so when Tate didn’t bother calling that morning, Piper was both confused and relieved.

  No messages were left demanding to know where she was, nothing about wanting his usual coffee and donut. The morning was a quiet one and Piper felt her unease creep a little higher in his absence.

  Tate wasn’t normally so hands-off. He seemed to enjoy being in control of every situation, no matter how many times she had carried out his orders without a hitch. He was probably still stewing over last night, giving her the cold shoulder, making her guess.

  So, he was still mad. It was the only explanation she could come up with. Well, she was angry too, damn it. How dare he come into her home and try to seduce her? What was he thinking? They worked together. The whole thing was wildly inappropriate and there was no way she would allow something like that to happen again.

  And he had called her a bitch.

  Piper ruminated over that sweet little memory as she moved around her apartment getting ready for work. How dare he? He had the gall to throw what they had done back in her face as if he hadn’t been an active participant. It just proved he was like every other man on the planet, thinking that she was a whore for doing exactly what he had done simply because they were packing different equipment between their legs.

  Okay, so he hadn’t called her a whore, but he had called her a bitch and that stung just as bad. Where did he get off acting like that? Did she not have the right to say no? Did he think that giving her an orgasm was somehow going to chang
e their situation and she would leap into his bed without argument? He was dreaming! No orgasm, no matter how good it was or professionally delivered it might be would ever cloud her judgment to that degree. Not only was Tate the last person she needed to get involved with, but Piper just wasn’t interested in complicating her life with another man. She had too much at stake. If Mr. Sinclair found out that they had slept together, she could lose her job, and she would be damned if she let another man walk into her life and ruin everything she had worked so hard to build.

  Slipping into her shoes, Piper performed a quick once-over in the mirror. It had been a while, but she had decided to wear one of her favorite dresses today. It fit her like a glove, hugging all her curves. The warm burgundy material made her skin seem warm and radiant. She couldn’t help smiling, because she felt good. Some women had their power suit, something that boosted their confidence and made them feel like they could take on anything and anyone. Well, this was her power dress. It would be her armor when she walked into that office today.

  She didn’t know what she would find waiting for her once she got there. It could be an angry boss, or two. It could be business as usual. However things went down, she took comfort in the fact that Tate wouldn’t be there. He rarely went into the office and never on a Monday, and most definitely never this early in the morning.

  She had never been so wrong.

  *****

  Irritated.

  That was how Piper felt as she stood at the counter brewing a fresh pot of coffee. After showing up at the office she had found a madhouse waiting for her. A week had passed since she had last come in and papers were piling up. There were at least a dozen messages that needed to be returned last week. Hell, they should have been routed to her cell phone, but someone somewhere had dropped the ball and now they were all going to be in the shit if she didn’t get things straightened out, like, yesterday.

  The office was buzzing with lively conversation that she didn’t have the time or the inclination to get involved with. Besides, Tate had kept her so secluded in her job that she hadn’t gotten the opportunity to nurture other working relationships. Now, she simply did not fit.

  Thankfully, she had Poppy in her corner, but even then, the woman had her own work to do and she couldn’t expect for her to drop everything just to hold her hand; although it might have been a comfort to have someone to talk with beyond the occasional lunch.

  To make matters worse, when she decided to bite the bullet and call Tate to fill him in on what was going on at the office; it had gone straight to voice mail. It was now ten in the morning and he still hadn’t returned her call. He was either still sleeping, or he was shutting her out. She was betting on the latter.

  Did Cindi know what kind of a brat she had raised? Of course she did, Piper concluded. Cindi had made it clear on more than one occasion that she knew full well how difficult her son could be. Which reminded her, she needed to call the woman and thank her for inviting her to the cookout. It was one of the nicest evenings she had experienced in a long time, despite everything that followed.

  Annnnd….she was back to square one again.

  As much as she would like to pretend that Tate didn’t exist and go on about her day with lethal efficiency, she knew they couldn’t continue playing the avoidance game. There was just too much to be done. If she didn’t get ahold of him by lunchtime, she was going to have to take more drastic measures and show up at his apartment, unannounced, which he hated. So of course she loved the idea. Why not have a little fun with her day, after all? She was looking forward to it already.

  “Oh, good, coffee.”

  Piper looked up to see Poppy’s sunshiny face beaming at her. “Morning.” Piper stepped to the side so the woman could slide in and pour herself a cup.

  “Good morning.” Poppy smiled widely as she emptied two packets of sweetener into her cup and doused it with a healthy dose of creamer. “Haven’t seen you around lately. How’s everything?”

  Piper shrugged. “Meh.”

  Poppy turned toward her, leaning her hip against the counter, and took a measured drink of her coffee. “’Meh’? That doesn’t sound too hopeful. What’s up?”

  Piper liked Poppy. From what Poppy had told her, she’d been hired on by Mr. Bradshaw via Mr. Sinclair earlier that year as his assistant and as far as she knew, she had become an asset to the company, though she had no clue what her job description entailed. She just hoped that she could one day become as invaluable to the company as Poppy seemed to be.

  “It’s just been a trying couple of days, but I’m hoping to resolve it soon.”

  Poppy leaned forward, placing a gentle hand on her arm. “Men are assholes,” she confided. “With a few exceptions,” she amended. “But generally speaking, if you give them an inch, they’ll run roughshod all over you. Which can be fun, granted, but you have to show them who wears the pants, if you know what I’m saying?”

  “Um, yes?” Piper laughed softly. Looking down into the black coffee gripped between her hands, she felt the need to unburden herself a little. Poppy seemed like the kind of woman who was trust worthy enough for that. She hoped. “Hey, Poppy. I know we kind of touched on this before, but what do you think of Tate Larsen?”

  Poppy’s delicate eyebrows rose slightly. Her lips pursed as she thought it over. “Well, first impressions? He’s an ass. He carries himself like he’s mister know-it-all and so hot he can pick up any woman he sets his mind to. But if you ask me, he’s a scared little boy dressed up in men’s clothing whose overconfidence is really just a mask for his insecurity.” Wow, the woman didn’t pull any punches. “What a man like Tate needs is a good hard slap of reality, a woman strong enough to put him in his place and keep him there.”

  Piper nodded her agreement, trying to use Poppy’s assessment of Tate to reassess her own view. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” She smiled, though she could say with confidence that she wouldn’t be that woman.

  “I am,” Poppy grinned back. “Why do you ask anyway?”

  “Oh, no reason.” She waved her off.

  Poppy’s eyes narrowed briefly and Piper thought she might call her on her evasion, but thankfully she chose to let it go. “Right. Well, anyway, I’m always here if you want to talk.” She pivoted, snagging another sweetener packet from the open box on the counter. “There was something I had to ask you…Oh, right. Mr. Bradshaw says there is a conference or something coming up and there are going to be some big wigs attending. He wants you to handle finding the caterer, says you’re good at those sorts of things. Of course, you’ll have to run the details by him to finalize everything, but you know how that goes.”

  Crap, Piper noticed a while back that there was an event coming up, but truthfully, with her head clouded in drama, she had forgotten all about it. One look at her planner and she would have caught it, but she hadn’t planned on having to do much for it.

  The conference was set up in Vegas as part of a weekend long deal where some corporate execs would gather for dinners and business and would puff their chests to establish dominance. They’d invited five of their top selling authors along, promising open signings and meet and greets to the community. Tate was one of those authors.

  Piper had attended one event like this in the past—as a fan—and she figured her part would entail making sure a room in the hotel was reserved for both of them, adjoining so she could wait on his highness—yes, she was feeling a little snappy at the moment—and setting up the booth and making sure Tate showed up for his part at the scheduled times.

  Finding a caterer, however, had not been on her agenda.

  Piper’s eyes widened. “A caterer? That gives me like…” her eyes rolled to the ceiling as she counted, “three days? Three days!” she whispered frantically. “Damn it. Are you telling me Mr. Bradshaw couldn’t have told me this last month? How in the hell am I supposed to find a caterer who is willing to travel in two days?”

  For her part, Poppy didn’t seem too worried about it. �
�He said the guy they had lined up fell through, something to do with a city inspection. He knows he’s dealing you a heavy hand, and he’s agreed to pay you double if you can pull it off.”

  “But two days.” Piper wanted to tear her hair out. There was just no way. No matter how much money he paid her, there was no way this could be pulled off.

  “Call around. Maybe you can find someone in Vegas to do the event. I mean, it’s Vegas,” she insisted. “Isn’t that, like, what they do, cater to people’s whims?”

  “I don’t know,” Piper sighed. “Maybe? But it’s more complicated than that. I can’t just hire the first company that’s available. There’s food to be tasted and wages to be agreed upon. This sort of thing doesn’t just happen overnight.”

  “Well, that certainly does complicate matters, but I know you can do this.” Poppy stood fully and clasped Piper on the shoulder. “I have faith in you.”

  “Faith in you for what?” Felix, Piper’s incredibly handsome and sophisticated boss, stepped into the break room and sidled up to the coffee maker. Did Poppy even appreciate how lucky she was to have such a nice, down to earth boss? Someone who didn’t shout at her and say cruel things after bringing her to a screaming orgasm? She hoped so, because it would be a shame to take something like that for granted.

  Piper shifted to allow Felix more room as he reached to pour himself some coffee. It didn’t escape her notice that Poppy stayed where she was, putting her so close to Mr. Sinclair that they were practically sharing body heat. Interesting.

  “Mr. Bradshaw asked her to find a last minute caterer for the Vegas conference,” Poppy supplied.