Come and Get Me

by Reese Gabriel

  His voice trailed off. Where the hell was he going with this? Was he telling her he wouldn’t have left her or that he wouldn’t have slept with her in the first place?

  She was too close, damn it. Barely four feet away from him. The proverbial third down and inches to go.

  Something flashed across Eleesha’s face, a shift in emotion he couldn’t read. It was there and then it was gone.

  “It doesn’t matter, anyway, does it?” she offered with sudden detachment. “Things happen by fate. Life deals cards, we play them.”

  “Yes,” he agreed. “Though most of the time we have to bluff.”

  Why did he feel like she was improvising this? Like she’d expected things to take a different direction?

  Eleesha shook out her curls. He remembered nuzzling them like it was yesterday. The way she smelled as she purred in satisfaction, cuddling against him after the loving was done, after they’d climbed the peaks and swooshed down.

  “I have work to do, Ross. I know you do, too. Let me get to the point of why I asked you here.”

  “Of course.” He hated how she’d changed. So serious. Cynical. No more giggles. No more flashing, flirting eyes. He’d never told her how much he’d noticed her that night, even before he’d won her in the contest. How he’d singled her out among the herd of freshmen females, seeing something more in her spirit, her gumption. He’d wanted her from the start. And then when he’d found that she liked him, too, that he was her dream man, well that had been enough to flip his tough-guy stomach. Just like getting tackled on the forty-yard line by the entire defensive line of the opposing team.

  “As you said, we have to work together. I’d like to know up front, what you need from me as well as from my staff. We’ll get the records together, get you the computer access and set up times to interview the team. If you don’t mind, I’m of the proactive school of management. I really don’t like surprises. And if you have any intention of including me in your list of deadwood around here, I promise you I will fight you. Hard.”

  He pulled his eyes back to face level. He’d been looking at Eleesha’s long, lean legs. She must work out, he thought.

  “Yes,” he cleared his throat. “You’ve made yourself clear.”

  Ross shifted. Son of a bitch. He was hard. It had been years since the mere presence of a female had gotten the better of him like this. And what an erection it was, too. Like he was back in college. For a split second he thought of putting her over her desk, lifting that feminine skirt and pulling down her panties. Would her pussy be as tight and wet as he remembered? What had she been doing all these years, romance-wise? She had no wedding ring and so far no visible signs of a boyfriend. Was she divorced, like him?

  “That’s all I had to say,” she told him, making it clear his welcome was at an end. “Unless you have something to add?”

  He didn’t. Not a blasted word, except…

  Ross made his move. Eleesha was in his arms before either of them could do anything to stop it. It wasn’t like his fantasy. She wasn’t fighting him. Nor was she the timid young woman from college, either. She was like a wildcat, kissing him back, moaning and biting at his lips. Her fingers were feverish, trying to open his shirt. She tugged his tie apart, yanking it off and tossing it to the floor.

  His hands were working on her blouse. He’d planned the moves in his mind a million times over, and so, it seemed, had she. Her bra was white, delicate and revealing. He fumbled behind her back. Where was the frigging clasp?

  “Rip it,” she hissed. “Rip the fucking thing.”

  The material tore with a satisfying, clean sound, signaling that all bets were off. He grabbed her breasts, then mauled them. She reached inside his trousers, just as greedy for his cock. A moment later he had her down on her leather couch, her legs wide apart. The panties received the same treatment as the bra.

  “Oh, god,” she hissed, sounding like a soul about to damn itself, an addict about to shoot that one last vial. “Fuck me.”

  Ross wasn’t sure what was in her eyes. They were glazed and far away. This was not going anywhere good, he feared, but there was no holding back. And what wouldn’t he sacrifice for one more plunge?

  Her whimpers verged on tears as he pushed his throbbing, thick-veined cock inside the folds of her waiting sex. It was like she’d been waiting for this, dreaming of it every moment since last they’d been together.

  Was that just his imagination? Wishful thinking?

  Eleesha grabbed his head and pulled it to her breast. He suckled at the soft mound, relishing the feel of her quivering nipple between his lips.

  “More,” she cried and he commenced biting the whole of her breast.

  “Yes,” she groaned.

  It must have been a long time, he thought, since a man had loved her.

  Ross lifted his pelvis, momentarily denying her. She kicked her shoes off and dug her heels into his spine, encouraging her own conquest. He made her wait, letting the tension build.

  “P-please,” she cried, uttering the magic words.

  He gave her what they both wanted, what they’d been desperately craving since the moment they had laid eyes on each other again.

  “Yes, yes,” she cried.

  Two more thrusts, in and out, in and out and Eleesha began to come. It was remarkable, he knew, for a woman to react this way. He could only imagine the pent-up passion. Holding back nothing, he went at her full force, driving her trembling, shaking body deep into the leather cushions over and over until her groans dissolved into his and the waves of her climax merged with the shooting jets of his own.

  My god, he was filling her once again. Marking and claiming her after a decade. Something he’d never thought possible.

  Eleesha kept right on going. Either it was a second orgasm or the continuation of the first. He clung to her tightly, sealing her mouth with a kiss. He rode out his own bliss, gifting her with every last drop of his seed. He did not want this to end. It would not end well. He’d already determined that.

  This time there was no sliding down the mountain. It was going to be freefall.

  Ecstasy to emptiness. In seconds flat. First came the shift in her breathing, the sounds of closure, the slight tensing of her muscles delivering the unspoken message. Get the fuck off me.

  Then the stiffening of his own back, the shrinking of his cock to normal proportions. No longer at home in her pussy, no longer hand in glove.

  Ross got off of her, careful not to look at her face or body as she sought to cover herself.

  “You don’t have to tell me this time,” she said as he zipped his pants up and tucked in his shirt. “It doesn’t mean a thing. And, no, I won’t be asking you to do it again some time for fun.”

  He left without a word as she walked behind her desk to tend to something on her computer.

  The words came to his mind as he passed the innocent young Martha, clacking on her keyboard. Unless Ross was mistaken, they came from Shakespeare. Hell hath no fury, like a woman scorned.

  It had taken ten years, but Eleesha had won her revenge, all right. She’d scored first blood this time, cutting him open before he had a chance to hurt her.

  * * * * *

  Eleesha had no idea why she was crying. It wasn’t like she’d never had sex with a man she didn’t love. She’d done her share of one-night stands, in fact, especially in the months following Ross’ brutal departure from her life. She’d been determined to prove that she was as tough and callous as he. Mature and worldly.

  Sex without love got boring after a while, though, and so she’d ended up spending more and more time with her books. The results were a string of straight As and a scholarship to one of the best business schools in the country. Other than a brief and very unwise fling with one of her teachers, a man twice her age in the process of getting a divorce, she kept to herself, focusing on her career.

  Once out of school she’d landed an excellent starter job and in record time she’d worked her way up to being a vice
president of a mid-sized company. Her goal was to one day be a CEO of a Fortune 500 company.

  She’d make it, too, if she didn’t let herself get distracted. Damned, she hated being a woman sometimes. How did men hack their way to the top and screw around at the same time? How did they make it look so easy?

  You could bet Ross Maclean wasn’t crying. He was laughing. Thinking how he’d done it again. Taken advantage of the poor, naïve little female. No doubt he’d stopped on the way out to make a date with Martha, his inevitable next conquest.

  Meanwhile, she was left with nothing. The seeds of bitterness. She could kick herself for that last little dig she’d given him about not needing to be told the sex meant nothing this time. What did that accomplish, except advertising to the man that she was still vulnerable, still smarting over a wound inflicted a decade ago? For heaven’s sake—she’d spit back the very words he’d used on her. Talk about nursing a grudge. He’d chew her up and spit her out for that. If the rumors were true that the company was going to be downsized, you could bet her name was going to be on the top of the list.

  If only the sex had not been so fucking good. If only Ross Maclean didn’t have the ability to put her in a tailspin just by walking in the same room as her. The son of a bitch had pulled a complete end run, too, by apologizing. How could she go ahead with her planned threat to expose the man’s behavior if he didn’t leave the building at once and never return?

  There was a difference between being tough and being mean-spirited. Honestly, could she stand by everything she’d done in college? What about the boys she’d toyed with? Hadn’t she broken a heart or two as well? Her own pain was no excuse for that. Wrong was wrong.

  The problem was that Ross just had this way of doing things to her. She’d practically attacked him. She just had to feel those hard muscles again after all these years. Those firm, rounded biceps, still like iron. That lean, ribbed belly. The fine pectorals. The narrow athlete’s waist. The sculpted thighs. That ass in her hands. Cheeks firmed and toned through years of exercise. He was still that same athlete underneath, even sexier in fact with all the experience he’d gained.

  The way he brought her to climax, the way he pinned her up there on cloud nine, owning her orgasms, owning her. She hadn’t wanted to come down. Hadn’t wanted to let go of that cock or give up his teeth nibbling on her nipple. She wanted perpetual fucking. Something to save her from a life of vibrator sex and glossy magazines with models in them she’d never, ever meet in real life.

  But Ross Maclean was better than that. And he was only looking better as he got older. He’d been on magazine covers, with that wry smile, the boyish twinkle in his eye. He made the women swoon and every guy wanted to be like him. What was he doing, anyway, working for her company, messing around with restaurants? She decided to do a little more research on him.

  In the meantime, there were these tears. Which made no sense. Ten years ago she’d been an angry young woman, taking it in stride. Funny how things hit you in life, she thought.

  “Ma’am, are you all right?”

  She looked up at Martha in the doorway, blurry, underwater. “I’m okay,” she sighed, not bothering to say anything about the intrusion.

  There were two things she had not been able to get Martha to do. One was to keep her from barging in whenever she thought her boss needed help and the other was to get her to call her by her first name.

  “Martha, about the flirting thing this morning—”

  “I know,” she cut off the apology. “Now how about you tell me the truth? Anybody can see you’re not okay and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out it has something to do with Mr. Maclean.”

  Eleesha sighed. “Don’t you have some filing or something to do?”

  “No,” she shook her head somberly. “I’m all caught up. Which means you get to tell me the whole story.”

  “Lucky me,” she said in mock exasperation.

  “It’s your fault for not giving me enough to do.” Martha plopped down beside her in her black slacks and white blouse. She reminded Eleesha a lot of herself, a long time ago.

  “Promise me one thing first, Martha. You’re not going to go out with Ross, are you?”

  “Me date Mr. Ross? Like he’d ever ask me. Besides, anybody with half a brain can see that you two have unfinished business. So are you going to talk or what?”

  Eleesha took a deep breath. “All right,” she decided. “I’m going to tell you the whole thing. But if you ever breathe a word of it, I will see to it that you are tied down to your desk and forced to listen to Wang Chung all day on the PA.”

  “Wang who?”

  “It’s something old,” she warned dramatically, finding herself reminded of just how much younger Martha was. “And therefore very, very terrible.”

  Martha giggled, tucking her legs up underneath her as if they were at a pajama party. “Okay, I’m ready for the story.”

  Eleesha took another breath and began. At the beginning.

  Chapter Three

  Ross managed to avoid Eleesha for the next week. The building was large enough and he had enough leeway in his work that he was able to steer clear of her and her department. Twice in their daily updates Lyle had mentioned advertising and Ross had quickly changed the subject. That approach was childish—how long could he avoid examining a key department? As part of his agreement with the board, he was obligated to file a complete report, and so far he had a huge, gaping hole. He was being unfair to them, as well as to the employees themselves. He was supposed to be here finding ways to save jobs, not play adolescent games.

  The thing was, he had painted himself into a corner. He felt very much honor bound to make things right with this woman, but if he shared his regrets, that might only anger her. Anyway, what good was a second apology now after he’d already given one that was supposed to mark a clean slate between them?

  Truth be told, he was a little afraid of her, too, and what he might do in response to her. As it was, he felt obsessed. He was forever looking for her in the hall, across the company cafeteria and in the parking lot, like some kind of schoolboy mooning after the homecoming queen. He told himself he was just trying to make sure they didn’t end up within close range of one another, but how did he explain the quick beating of his heart whenever he thought she was nearby?

  There was nothing innocent or boyish about his desires. The dreams had yet to relent and every night she was there to torment him. He would get so close to possessing her and then she would run away. Usually she was looking over her shoulder, laughing at him. Other times she would be with different men, leaving him burning with jealousy. One time it was Lyle kissing her, while Ross was forced to stroke himself in isolated desperation. Eleesha was wearing black stockings with garters, a black brasserie and panties and a short blonde wig with bangs. She was doing a burlesque dance, playing to Lyle, who was sitting in a chair reading the latest budget statements. Ross was trying to write the numbers down while keeping his hand on his cock. Eleesha was clearly teasing him, even as she bent over Lyle, kissing his neck, her ass shaking in Ross’ face.

  That one turned out to be a wet dream. Another physiological phenomenon he thought he’d left behind on the other side of twenty. Along with the spontaneous erections.

  The very next morning he had to sit across from her at a conference table with her fellow department heads. It was an open forum where questions could be asked of him as to his progress.

  Tim Warner from legal wanted to know why he wasn’t spending any time with the advertising department. Were they corporate pets—immune from potential cutbacks?

  “I’ve been more than ready to be examined,” challenged Eleesha, her eyes burning a hole in Ross. “We have nothing to hide. From anyone.”

  “There’s a set order that Ross has to follow,” Lyle defended. “We just have to trust him.”

  “How do we know he’s not just getting us ready for a corporate takeover?” asked Miles Southerby from sales, the dam havin
g burst.

  The next twenty minutes were a free-for-all. Ross had no memory of what he said in defense of himself. Eleesha’s lips were the only things burned into his memory, and her earlobe—the way it looked so cute as she tucked loose strands of hair behind it with her fingers. She had pink nail polish on and all he could think of was having her hand wrapped around his cock, lightly stroking him with infinite care and love.

  Love…had he used that four-letter word? His mind continued dissolving, until it felt like some kind of waking dream. He had to take the rest of the day off after that.

  It went on like that until he could stand no more. In the middle of the night, he made his resolution. Things would have to be settled between them once and for all. They would have to lock horns. They would have to get down and dirty.

  They would have to have more sex.

  Enough of it to get this attachment out of their systems. A night full of it maybe, or a long weekend, he wasn’t sure which. It would be scorching and mind-blowing, that much he knew. It would have to be, if they were ever to burn out their strong feelings, once and for all.

  * * * * *

  Eleesha could barely drag herself out of bed. Turning on the light in the bathroom, she studiously avoided the mirror’s testimony as to her appearance. If she looked half as bad as she felt, her reflection would be a sad sight, indeed.

  What had happened to her? she lamented in the shower. How could she have gone from a tough, vibrant woman to a basket case in a week? She couldn’t concentrate, couldn’t eat. Every time the phone rang she jumped. At work she hid in her office, dreading her trips down the hall or downstairs where she might see him.