by Cassie Mae
Her hand suddenly slaps the back of mine on her chest, nails digging into my knuckles urging me to massage, tweak, and pull her into ecstasy.
She’s a delightful contradiction—soft and compliant, strong and demanding. I lose myself again, wanting so much to touch more of her that I shove her into the door, clamping her wrists with one hand and pushing them over her head. I run my free hand up the back of her scalp, fisting her hair out of the way. Her back arches, giving me the view down the back of her loose tank. I rake my tongue from the middle of her upper back to her hairline, taking another bite at the end of my journey.
“God, Ethan,” she pants against the door, a shiver overtaking her. I freeze in place for a moment, blinking against how much power this woman has over me right now. Saying my name like that, wanting this just as much…the jolting surprise loosens my hold enough that she’s able to wriggle her wrists free, and she swivels, burning eyes meeting mine for the first time since my lips touched her decadent skin.
A question rests in those eyes, and I reach up and run a thumb over her jaw, pausing at her lip ring. She wants to know what this is, and hell, I have no idea how to answer that. My head is too foggy, my body too on edge to come up with anything. I can see the question sitting on the edge of her tongue, and like a coward, I cover her mouth with mine, quieting any conversation, any trepidation, using her for a purely selfish reason. My tongue dips between her lips, exploring and tangling with hers in a way I can’t help but think we should’ve been doing long before now. Her hands snake up to my tie, loosening it in an anxious fury, but with our frantic mouths battling for more, the most she accomplishes is knotting herself up.
“Take this damn thing off,” she says between our lips, the fire I’ve grown so addicted to laced into her voice. “I hate it.”
After one last squeeze on her jaw, I push my hands between us to grant her request. I rip the tie from my collar, letting it drop to the floor, and my grip finds the underside of her ass, smoothing up the back of her legs until I’ve got her jumping onto my waist. The door rattles as I shove her once again against it, eliciting a sound from the back of her throat that makes me light-headed.
Her fingers fight the buttons on my shirt, giving up halfway down and just ripping the damn thing open. My skin heats to an almost unbearable degree as she slides her soft hands across my abdomen and up my back, leaving sizzling trails in their wake. Her nails scratch down my spine, making us switch roles briefly as a long groan exits my lips between lavish kisses down her neck. Following her lead—and hoping she isn’t attached to this tank top—I grab at the low dip of the shirt and tear the material apart, exposing her lacey black bra. Her heavy breathing makes her breasts heave against the thin material of my undershirt, unraveling my already disjointed thoughts.
She’s more beautiful and sexier than I ever imagined, and man… did I imagine it a lot. My control was gone before, but now there’s not chance in hell that it’s coming back. I dip my head, nibbling a path down her long, luxurious neck, biting at the plush skin along her bra. Her breathing stutters, echoing the beat of my heart as she finds my belt buckle. I’m so hard there is no way she can loosen me without grazing, rubbing, and driving me past the point of sensible thought.
Clutching her legs, I shove her to her feet, tearing at her skin-tight jeans. Her ripped shirt dangles in front of me, teasing me with a game of peek-a-boo with an exotically pierced navel. I plan on raking my tongue over that, toying with her stomach and her skin and pushing every button on her that’s she’s pushing on me. I drop to my knees, taking both her lower layers with me, while she rips her top and bra off. She’s gloriously naked, and I have to blink through the red lust spots in my vision to take in the cream of her skin, the hardware in not only her navel, but pushed through her nipples. My mind is a dead weight on the floor, flopping like a fish, useless in telling me that this is probably a very dangerous, very bad idea.
My hand runs over the curve of her hip before I take a savory bite. Her head falls back, the ends of her long, red hair tickling my knuckles. The sight is the complete definition of beauty, and the thought sends a small shock through my stomach. As much as I hate to admit it, and I never would out loud, I’ve envisioned her this way—bared and pleased at the touch of my hand. I’ve envisioned it, yet those fantasies have done the reality an absolute injustice.
Instead of standing up, I tug her down, letting her wrap her soft, silky legs around my torso. Her intake of breath puts the first smile I’ve had all day on my face. Is this what content feels like? Is this how it feels to forget, to lose your stress, to lose yourself… if only for a few minutes?
Paige lets her gaze drop to my grin, running a tantalizing finger along the crease it’s put in my cheek. Her own lips turn up, only for a second, before she dips her head, and we continue traveling down unexplored paths.
She shucks my shirt from my shoulders, wriggles me out of my pants, all while open-mouth kissing every bit of skin she uncovers. I can hardly catch my breath, hardly keep my hands off her beautiful body. My grip tightens on her skin, and I coax her back on the oversized shag rug. She arches into me, the contact between us a powerful scorch that any minute gaps would feel like sobering ice water. She pushes her mouth up into mine, and I take hold of her bottom lip, toying with the metal loop as she slowly flattens against the shag.
Her eyes have turned from a light evergreen to a deep emerald, dousing me with unexpected terror. I can see my face in the reflection of her glasses—my fear hiding underneath sexual frustration. She must sense something, too, because she reaches for those glasses and slides them seductively from her face. Our eyes drop contact, and she gazes down my looming body, trailing her fingers down my abdomen. She refuses to look me in the eye again, only focusing on my muscles. I watch her watch me, an animal rising from deep in my gut.
Grateful for her silent acknowledgment that this is not something serious brewing, I grab her slender waist and whip her on her stomach. I can’t look her in the eye… I know if I did, I’d fall. Without a doubt I’d fall for her.
I fumble around for a condom from my wallet, leaning over her and shaking it in front of her face before getting one, sharp nod of assent. I roll it over myself and urge her hips up, trying not to get mesmerized by a tattoo curling from her hip up to the back of her neck, begging myself not to ask about it, not to get closer to her, to keep this as casual as I think she wants it… as I think we need it to be. I smooth a hand up her spine, using the other to smack her ass. A sting resonates in my palm as a whimper of pleasure escapes her lips and muffles into the carpet. My fist curls into her hair, pulling her head back as I slip inside her.
All the stress and mental exhaustion presents itself in a reckless tempo, giving nothing and taking everything, and it feels too good for me to realize how shitty it is to be thinking this way. I drive into her, not only noticing how our bodies and moans are in tune, but reveling in the music we’re creating.
She doesn’t say my name, and I nearly plead her to before reminding myself it’s probably best she doesn’t. Feeling myself getting closer to release, I snake a hand around, palming her lower belly and circling a finger against her clit to the beat of our movements, as if I’m putting an acoustic track to our stress-relieving song. She cries out sultry expletives as I feel her clench around me moments before I find my own ecstasy.
The heated air surrounding us slowly makes its way back into my lungs, and my arms shake as she flattens under me, glazed in sweat and completely spent.
I roll to my back, careful not to touch her skin again. Gazing down my own sweat-coated body, I grab the condom and put it in the trash can under my desk. Now that my mind is starting to make coherent thoughts, I remind myself to take it out with me before I leave; wouldn’t want a custodian talking and the media finding more to talk about.
A dip in my gut cripples my euphoric high, and I push my hands over my face. “Shit.”
I feel Paige shift next to me, and the ache in my s
tomach doubles in intensity. My fingers dig into my hair, pulling at the ends. Damn it, what have I done? I can almost hear chalk on a blackboard as I add another thing to my list of mistakes.
“That was fast,” Paige’s raspy, yet satisfied voice says.
I roll my eyes. “If you start calling me ‘Minute Man’…”
A soft, breathy laugh floats from her plump lips. “I was talking about your vocal regret, not your performance. That was…” She lets out a long satisfied whistle that has the arrogant beast inside me puffing his chest out. She pushes up from the floor, sitting back to fix her hair. I rise up on my elbows, entranced by her unabashed movements.
“You can calm your tits,” she says. “I know what this was.”
“And I’ll see you in court?” I ask, half-joking, half-needing her to tell me what we just did… what I just did… was okay.
She rolls her eyes, dropping her arms till they slap against her bare thighs. “I didn’t voice any objections, did I?”
“Unusual for you.”
A hint of a smile teases at the corner of her mouth, and she reaches back for her clothes. She dresses rather quickly, using her light jacket as a shirt since I effectively ruined her tank top, and when the flash drive falls from her pocket, I half expect her to chuck it at my face.
She lets out a long sigh, plucking the drive from the carpet. “This guy is good,” she says. “Someone’s going to sign him, even if it’s not you.”
When I don’t answer her, she bites her lip and pushes the demo into her pocket. Then she walks out, as if she didn’t just screw me up in a thousand ways.
Jerome has been on every news station from here to New York, dragging Ethan’s name through the trash, making him sound completely incompetent and unable to even pick out his own clothes in the morning. Mom and Mia both called to let me know, and both were worried about my future since the label isn’t looking too bright. I assured them that Jerome was a disgruntled employee and nothing more.
A few weeks ago, I might have agreed with Jerome, but now… I know Ethan. And it’s not just because we had sex and he completely blew my mind. He isn’t stupid. He knows music. I could tell that night in my apartment when he saw my blanket. There was passion in his eyes, even if it was hidden deep, deep within. Everything changed that night.
I ignore the newspapers on the newsstands with Ethan’s face on them and make my way to the office. Shock rocks into me at the mob of reporters outside the main entrance. Security in black suits line the doors, creating a massive wall of muscle.
“Badge?” one asks as I go to bypass him to the door.
I reach into my bag, searching for the plastic holder I tossed in here on my first day. “I’ve got it somewhere,” I say with a smile as I notice a line has formed behind me. I step aside to let the more prepared people pass.
“Shit. It has to be here…” I’m going to be late, and I can’t afford to be late. Not after Ethan finally let me listen to demos again. But what if what we did last night changes things? Damn it. I didn’t think about that. All I could think about was losing myself in him, feeling those big hands roam around my body as those gray eyes followed their every move.
I shake my head, ridding myself of the thoughts. He was more afraid of my reaction, so I’m pretty sure my job isn’t in jeopardy.
“Find it yet?” the guard asks.
“Almost,” I lie.
A warm hand rests on my back, and I glance up to meet sunglasses. I’ve only seen Ethan out of his uptight suit twice, and the last place I’d expect to see him in a baseball cap and a hoodie is here at the office.
“She’s with me,” he says.
The guard opens the door for us without hesitation, and Ethan ushers me through.
“Are you okay?” I ask, stumbling over myself to keep up as he hurries through the lobby.
“Fine,” he says, but his smile is dull. “Have a good day, Paige.” Then he disappears into his elevator.
Fine my ass. I don’t expect last night to change anything, but he could have given me a better response than some generic bullshit. He’s too stubborn to see that I want to help and that he doesn’t need to bear the burden all on his own. Then again I am just an intern, and I’m sure there are other people in his life he can turn to. There’s only so much a person can take before they get beaten down so far there’s no recovering, and that’s the last thing I want for Ethan. He doesn’t deserve that. If he would just let me in.
I make my way up the stairs and wave to Nora, who is back. I wonder who they have working for Ethan today. It doesn’t matter. It isn’t me, and I’m sure they’ll be hiring a replacement soon enough. It’s probably going to be some leggy blonde with big boobs who knows nothing about music, but makes a good office ornament. Not that I care.
I pop my earbuds in and let the music take me away.
Five minutes don’t even pass before Nora sits in the chair next to me and smiles. I smile back, but by the way she angles her body toward me, it’s obvious she wants more than a flash of teeth. I pull my earbud out and wait.
“So apparently, I did such a good job reorganizing everything for Mr. Davis he doesn’t need a secretary anymore,” she says, and I cannot fathom how she believes that line for even a second. “Well, at least for today.”
A laugh begs to come out, but I swallow it down. “I bet he’s very grateful.”
Nora glances around, and when the coast is clear, moves closer to me. “Have you seen the news?”
Of course I’ve seen the news. Who hasn’t? The story has been on every station for the past three days. All weekend I couldn’t get Ethan off my mind. I worried about him. About how he was coping with the media frenzy. Wishing I had a way to reach out to him because he would never reach out to me. I just hoped he surrounded himself with people who cared about him. But I had a feeling in that sense he was more like me and probably hid away in his house alone.
“Yes, I heard.”
“It’s so crazy. I mean, I didn’t think he was that incompetent. Unorganized definitely, but not everything that Jerome is saying.”
“Jerome is a scorned employee with entitlement issues. He’s talking out of his ass. Besides, don’t you know better than to believe everything you hear on TV?”
Nora shrugs. “True or not, this company is getting dragged through the gutter. I took this internship because this label is one of the best. It’ll look good. But now…I’m not so sure.”
“Tomorrow there’ll be another news story, and all this will be forgotten. Trust me.”
“I hope you’re right.”
Alex pokes his head in, and Nora spins back in her chair, offering an overly enthusiastic good morning.
He steps into our little closet of an office. “We’ll be having an intern meeting in ten minutes in the conference room.”
“We’ll be there,” Nora says.
I finish up an Instagram post and make sure it links to all other social media sites before grabbing my notebook and heading to the conference room with Nora.
The room is small with an oval table and ten chairs wedged together around it. There are still happy birthday napkins on the table from Friday when we celebrated Matt’s birthday. The cleaning crew must not have come in this weekend. I wonder if Ethan shut everything down in fear people would talk to the reporters who have been planted themselves outside every second of every day since Jerome’s interview.
I take the first open seat across from Josh. Alex shuts the door and walks to the front of the room, resting against a cabinet. “How is everyone this morning?”
There are a few murmurs around the room, and then Nora’s boisterous voice overtakes them all. “Fantastic, Alex. How are you?”
“Great. Thank you,” he says just as the door creaks open. Everyone’s attention turns to the door. I swallow at the sight of Ethan, who swapped out his incognito outfit from this morning for one of his many suits. This one dark gray, making his eyes pop, and tailored to perfection. His dress shirt is t
he color I imagine the Caribbean waters to be, bringing out the blue specks in his eyes, and his tie a beautiful striped combination of the gray and blue.
I usually hate suits on guys, and I tend to hate them on Ethan. He never looked comfortable in them, at least not in the way he did in jeans and a hoodie, but this? My God. He looks confident despite the shit storm he’s been weathering, and when his eyes briefly land on me, my entire body ignites.
“Good morning, everyone,” he says as he makes his way to stand beside Alex. His hands are at his side, which surprises me. I expected the heel of his palm to be pressing against his chest. “I wanted to meet with you all today to thank you for helping out while my assistant has been otherwise engaged.” His hand moves to his tie, and he fiddles with it for a small moment before continuing. “I’m sure all of you have heard the allegations that Jerome has been publicly making. I just want to ensure all of you that none of it is true. As we speak, my lawyers are filing a lawsuit against Jerome for slander, and I have no doubt in my mind that we will win, and the truth will finally be revealed. Now that means the position for my assistant is still open.” He looks at Nora and adds. “While I’m currently handling affairs on my own, I will need to fill it in the near future. Because all of you have helped out, I have decided to open the application process to you first. So, if you are interested, please give your resume to Alex, and we will be in touch.” Ethan slides the sleeve of his suit jacket up and looks at his watch. I have never been so turned on by a wrist before.
His eyes catch mine, and the tiniest of smiles tugs at the corner of his lips. The small room becomes even smaller, and I swear they turned the heat on.
