by Conn, Claudy
That’s not completely fair. We did have a visitor. I’m just nervous. Before everything was so hypothetical, and now it is real, or has the potential to be. Whichever which way, it is out there now. And before you ask, no I haven’t opened it yet. Unlike some people I know, my office is wall less, and I don’t know exactly how naughty my gift is so it will wait until I am home. Speaking of home, your friend was nice. A bit formal, but nice. He probably told you about where I lived, but if he didn’t, you might want to ask him in case that is a deal breaker.
Looking at the screen, only half the words visible, she used all of her restraint not to go back and reread, dissect, and change her words. It felt important that she do this authentically. She had friends in college who never send a word to a suitor without three friends agreeing it came across as planned. That had never been her way, even in her youth.
Suck, look at all my babbling. I would say this isn’t me, but that would be a lie. I get like this when I’m nervous, and you make me nervous. I can’t even begin to guess how many bubbles are going to blow up when I send this. Oh well. In for a penny.
She hit send and waited. She knew it was too long, but what’s done was done.
The response came far quicker than she could have hoped, in effect putting her out of her misery.
Lunch 1 PM my office.
Not a five page thesis giving her answers, but it would do nicely. Glancing at the time, she was happy to see she had only a half hour to wait.
See you then.
The next half hour should have passed by at a snail’s pace, but three more phone calls later and it was time to heat up her noodles and head his way.
His secretary just pointed to the office door as she continued her phone conversation, scribbling furiously on the pad in front of her. This was it. Do or die time. A quick rap on the door and it was opening for her. No pretense of being busy or not waiting for her.
“I’m glad you showed. Come in and have a seat. Lunch should be here momentarily.” He swooped his arm in invitation. His office, filled with rich mahogany furniture, was far larger than she had imagined. A small conference table sat to the right, a seating area to the left, and in the center was his desk in front of a glorious floor to ceiling window.
Heading in the direction he indicated, she found a spot on a loveseat. The leather was just as soft as the wallet he had given her, nothing at all like the twenty year old recliner that made up her entire living room set.
“I brought my own, actually.” She placed the dish on the coffee table in front of her, not wanting to be rude and start before his meal arrived.
“Let me pamper you.” His hand brushed her shoulder as he passed by, sending a shiver down her spine.
“Thank you.” Pivoting her body ever so slightly, she patted the seat beside her in the hope he would join her instead of taking one of the other pieces of furniture, knowing she would feel rejection if he did, even if it were out of politeness.
“I read your text, and I feel we should go over it bit by bit. Does that work for you?” Marcus crossed, pulled the phone from his pocket, and swiped a few times without speaking.
“It sounds very business-like,” she mumbled, far less to him than to herself.
“So is that a no?” He quirked his head, a puzzled look on his face.
“No, it’s fine,” she reassured. “Just an observation. I tend to lose my filter when I’m nervous.”
“As you mentioned later in the text. We’ll get to that soon.” His voice softened, far less business-like than only moments earlier. Was it possible that he too was nervous? “Let’s begin. Why you, shall we?”
Lacey nodded, anxiety building inside her.
“Why does anyone want anyone else? Hard to say. I know ‘I just do’ isn’t what you want to hear, but it’s the truth.”
She remained silent. He was right, it wasn’t good enough. Yet somehow it was. He wanted her. He said it as fact, no frilly words open to misinterpretation. It just was what it was.
He placed his freehand on her knee, just letting it sit. Nothing gropey or overly forward and pushy. It just sat there, warming her skin and raising her heartrate.
“Your beauty captivates me, your hard work calls to me, your babbling and honesty enthralls me, your laughter has my heart singing, your compassion and love of family makes me want to be a better person, and your love of rules, well that just gives me a hard-on that won’t subside.” He shrugged and glanced at his crotch as if to say, oh well. Most guys saying something like that would freak her out; with him it felt complimentary. “You’re nothing like the women who throw themselves at me. You are more.”
She was going to melt into a puddle right then and there. Between his words and his subtle touch, she was putty. He. Wanted. Her. The her she was, not some pretense. She knew he’d signed off on her internship becoming an actual job when her mom fell ill, but had no clue he actually remembered or even paid that much attention. She wasn’t even on the same floor at that time.
“Now, why did I force your hand today?” He pretended to read the text, his eyes peering over the screen ever so slightly. “That was stupid luck, I would dare say.” He lowered the phone, giving her his undivided attention as his hand moved just the tiniest of bits up her thigh. “Martha showed up and opportunity knocked. I may need to give her a raise.” He gave Lacey’s thigh a light squeeze before removing his hand. She liked that not. At. All. “I can trade gifts right now if you want. Whatever makes you more comfortable.”
“I think I would like to keep it as is.” She spit the words out before she chickened out, and grabbed his hand, lowering it back to her knee.
“That’s my girl.” He dropped the phone as if it held no value and brought his second hand to her face, cupping her cheek. He was going to kiss her. She could feel it. It had been so long since she had been kissed, and far longer since she had been properly kissed. A brief moment of self-doubt hit her just as there was a knock on the door, causing her to jump back.
Marcus barely contained his amusement, and she blushed. Whomever was at the door was going to know what they were up to if she didn’t get it under control.
“Come in.” In came a delivery man holding a box of what smelled like Italian food. “You can set it right over here.”
“Very well, sir.” He placed the box on the floor and unloaded the contents onto the table. Instead of the normal, everyday Styrofoam containers she was expecting, he unloaded glass containers of food and actual plates with silverware. This was not from the local pizza parlor. “Would you like me to serve?”
“No, thank you. We are still finishing up some business.”
Her face burned. He knew, he had to know, what kind of business they were up to. No one sat that close to each other in a legit business meeting.
“Sally will arrange payment.”
With a nod, the man left, leaving them back to where they were. Or almost. Marcus’s hands were too far away for her liking.
“Now, where were we? The matter of choice, I do believe.”
She angled her body in his direction. He was right, this was important and a point she brought up, but darn it she wanted to get back to the touching.
“You always have a choice, Lacey. Always. Never forget that.”
She waited for him to continue, but he simply observed her as if her eyes and body language would hold answers. They wouldn’t; they only held adrenalin at the moment.
“Promise me.” It was a demand. They were at a standstill over this one little point. But was it actually little? He was asking her to promise she always had control even when she didn’t. That was a tall order for a rule follower.
“I promise.” It was a promise she was making both to him and to herself. She owed it to both of them.
“Good.” He scooched closer, his hands back where they belonged: on her. Tilting her head ever so slightly, he leaned in close. “I’m going to kiss you now, because you sitting there all sexy has me losing my train of thought.�
��
Lacey nodded, well nodded as much as she could with his hand cupping her cheek.
“We will get back to the rest of it. I promise.”
She closed her eyes, waiting for the kiss as his cheek brushed hers. Wrong direction! His lips should be on hers. But then all was right with the world as his words caressed her ears. “Tell me you choose this.”
“I choose this,” she practically panted.
His lips found hers before the words completely left her. A few soft brushes of his lips on hers quickly grew with intensity, and as a sigh of desire escaped her, he took it as an invitation to deepened the kiss even further, exploring her mouth with his tongue. When he finally broke the kiss, placing his forehead on hers as his thumb caressed her cheekbone, they were both out of breath. Never in her wildest dreams had she thought a kiss could be that … there were no words for it. Any last hint of should I or shouldn’t I were gone. She was his for the taking, consequences be darned.
“I want you too.” The confession slipped from her lips, feeling so right. It was so unlike her. Lacey was the “wait until the third date for a kiss” kind of gal, and out of the handful of guys she’d kissed, none of them had gone much further. And yet there she was all but begging a pretty much stranger to—what? She didn’t know, but she wanted him. Her current location and circumstances be darned.
“Oh, my little temptress, the things I want to do to you, with you, right now. You have no idea what you do to me.” His breath kissed her ear as he spoke, her middle doing somersaults, a heady combination of nerves and lust.
“Oh, I have a guess.” Letting her desires out moments earlier had managed to alleviate her normally shy demeanor when it came to men. Her voice didn’t hold confidence, but it held sincerity and truth.
“Make sure this is what you want.” His eyes bore into hers. “No regrets. I never want you to have regrets.”
“I want this. You have no idea how much I want this.” As wrong and as naughty as it was, she wanted it. Consequences would be dealt with later, but right there and then, she needed this man. “Do you remember when you told me to think of you when I went to bed?”
“I do.” His voice thickened with lust, setting her confidence soaring and her last trepidations fleeing. “Did you obey, beautiful?” His smirk told her he knew very well that she had done exactly that.
“I did.”
His hands made a slow, sensual journey down her back until they settled firmly on her hips. His lips hovering over hers, centimeters away. So close, yet so very far away. She needed him close. As if of their own accord, she found her left hand on his thigh and her right hand settling on the proof she needed that he wanted her as badly as she wanted him. She gave a tentative rub through his pants, wishing the barrier was not sitting there between him.
“Want to know what I was thinking about?” Her confidence was soaring and the words fell from her lips—not in the tentative, quiet manner of only moments early, but with a sensuality that surprised her and sent some sort of message to Marcus, if his cock throbbing under her hand was any indication.
“Very much so.” He nipped her bottom lip before continuing, his silky voice, a tiny bit strained. “But I doubt I will be able to both follow and retain information with your hand settling so perfectly on my cock.”
Her hand snapped away in embarrassment before he tenderly placed her hand back to its original location. There was something intoxicating about having the object of her fervor taking what he wanted in this way, giving her no confusion over his desires, thus fueling hers.
“I know you will remember it because I’m going to show you.” She was going for the “say it like you mean it and it will be so” method of seduction since she lacked experience to fall back on.
“Dear God, woman, you are going to kill me.” His voice faltered. The headiness of the power she felt in that moment was overwhelming. Strong, confident, bazzillionare, sex on a stick, could have any woman in the world, Marcus Northrup, wanted her so profoundly, his “I’m in control” armor cracked, if only momentarily.
“Killing you wasn’t my goal.” Goal? She couldn’t believe the words escaping her lips. She had no goal, at least until he kissed her and took every last shred of restraint and will power she had. Her actual goal was to keep his hands on hers and hers on him. “Although an explosion was in my mind.” She sucked in a deep breath and decided to go for broke, because if this whatever it was ended badly, she was going to be jobless and broke anyway. No, that wasn’t fair. She didn’t peg him the type to fire her, but the reality that it could happen still nagged at her. As she let out her breath and reigned in control of her emotions, she made the flash decision to just spill it all. “In my fantasy, as my hand was wandering …” She heard him swallow. Yeah, he was affected. “As you knew it would be, I had my lips wrapped around you.” Holy crap. She had said it, admitted her most frequent fantasy, one that had come out of nowhere. It was probably so up front and present because it was something she had never done or even been in a position to do. Whatever someone spewing psychobabble would conclude about her reasons, she wanted to act out this fantasy right there.
“What was I doing?” He leaned back in the couch, hands behind his head as if he had all the time in the world to listen and this was an everyday occurrence. His tented pants weren’t helping him pull off the cool calm demeanor very well, and she held in a chuckle, one made mostly of nerves and a tiny bit from his reaction.
“You were telling me what you wanted.” That was the center of all of her fantasies with him. She didn’t think she was submissive in nature, but between his powerful presence and her lack of actually knowing what to do, she found herself in that role night after night.
“Is that what you want me to do now?” His eyes were soft as he cupped her cheek, all but ignoring her hand now settled nicely over his cock. He was giving her control. She could give it back to him with a simple little nod, but they both now knew the power was hers in totality.
“More than my next breath.” The confession flowed easily as she held his eyes so he could see the truth of her words. She wanted this right here and now, in his office of all stupid places.
“Promise me this: you’ll tell me enough at any time and I promise you we will be done, no questions asked, no hurt feelings, no pressure.”
She nodded. She knew right then and there she’d made the right decision. He wasn’t going to take advantage of her innocence, her submissive tendency, or her implied consent. He was a gentleman, one she hoped would have her screaming his name shortly. Fine, trying not to scream his name, due to the far too close listening audience.
“Use your words.” The quality in his voice changed from gentle and sweet to in control with heat. It was official, Marcus was the sexiest man in existence, bar none.
“I understand.” She understood that he wanted her as badly as she wanted him. She understood that he was taking control not because he was one of the jackasses who think women serve, but because she allowed it and, more importantly, wanted him to. She understood that whatever the consequences for this interlude, they were freaking worth it.
“Good.” He gave her a curt nod before removing her hand from him, standing up, grabbing a pillow, sauntering over to his desk, leaning so slightly back against it, and dropping the pillow at his feet. Her panties were freaking going to make sloshing sounds soon, and he wasn’t even next to her, much less touching her. She just sat on her perch, waiting for him to begin.
“Now, on your knees.” He pointed to the pillow and she raced to the spot. “That’s my girl.” She soared at the use of the term “my.” Sure, it didn’t mean anything, but if she was going to live out a fantasy, it was going to be to its fullest, and that included being his. His hand held the back of her head possessively, only adding the fuel to that part of the flame burning in her.
“Unbutton your top two buttons.”
It took her far longer to accomplish that task than it should have, her fingers fumblin
g—not out of nerves, but out of anticipation. His eyes showed his approval as the second button fell away. With a quick glance back and forth, she knew he wanted her to pull her shirt apart and share a bit of her bountiful breasts, so she complied.
“Gorgeous.” He stared for what felt like eternity, admiring them as she waited, mesmerized by his admiration. “Tilt your head slightly, so I can drape your hair over your shoulder and out of the way.” His hand swept her hair gently to the side.
“Excuse me, Mr. Northrup?” Lacey pulled her blouse closed before she came to the realization that it was a speaker and the woman interrupting them wasn’t actually in the room witnessing the debauchery.
“Yes, Sally.”
Lacey was impressed. She would have squeaked, over talked at the speed of light, or simply remained mute if she had been in his position, but nothing showed in his voice.
“Mr. James is on line two.” If the woman had an inkling what they were up to, she gave no hint of it.
“Tell him I’m not available.” He began to unbutton his pants. “I’m in a meeting right now.” The sound of his zipper lowering sounded like it was in front of a megaphone to Lacey. There was no way the speaker picked it up, yet the irrational side of her was sure it did.
“He says it’s important.” Sally sighed, and Lacey could tell it was about Mr. James and not Marcus. He must have one of those “all my things are more important than anyone else’s” complexes. “When shall I say you will call him back?”
“Tomorrow, Sally.”
Lacey took that as her clue to lower his pants. The boxer briefs he wore showed of his muscular thighs, but she barely paid them much mind because she had bigger things to worry about. Much bigger.
“I think this meeting will probably occupy the rest of the day.”
“Yes, sir.”
Was that a tinge of humor Lacey heard in the woman’s voice? Well crap on a cracker, Sally knew what they were up to. That wouldn’t stop Lacey though. If she was going to be the chick banging her boss, might as well get the fun part out of it.
