Seduction in a Suit: An Office Romance Collection

by Monica Corwin

  They welcome me with open arms and I wish I’d had the mind to clean myself up at the airport before coming here. I keep my lips pressed when his Mom pulls me down for a hug. She’s a slight woman, a little on the short side, but I can see why both her children are so beautiful.

  “We’re just dropping by quickly,” Henrik says beside me. I just notice now that he didn’t take my luggage out. “I’ll take her to my place, let her clean up and rest first, then we’ll come back here for dinner.” We’re not staying here? I shoot him a curious glance and he gives me a half shrug.

  “You both can stay here. You’ll be going back to Chicago anyway,” his mother says.

  “I know Mom, but she’s tired and the doctor said you should be resting all day too. We’ll get out of your way for now and be back before you know it.” He leans down to place a peck on his mother’s cheek.

  Not long after, we pull up to a multi-level contemporary white building, a contrast to the setting sunset in the background. It’s a different kind of beauty, and I don’t expect less from an award-winning architect. I’m quite thankful he’s given me this chance to spend alone with him and make myself more presentable before seeing his family again. When I got back in the car, I spotted a stain on my blouse, which I suspect was vomit.

  I wait for him by the side of the car until he’s got my bag. He holds his hand out and I take it as we walk to his house. We stop in the foyer and I’m in awe of the design inside as much as I was outside. But all of that’s forgotten when he stands behind me and sneaks his hands around my waist, and up my chest, cupping my breasts. He burrows his face into my hair. “I’m so happy you’re here.”

  I can tell. The long shape of erection is a massive sign.

  “Give me twenty minutes to shower and I’m all yours,” I beg him, but my eyes close and my body rocks to him.

  “Five minutes,” he counters.

  “Fifteen. I have to wash my hair. I need to get the airplane gunk and puke smell off me.”

  His hips roll forward, rubbing his cock against my ass, and he grunts. “Fifteen.” Then without warning, he turns me around and carries me over one shoulder like I weigh nothing more than a five-pound bag of flour. I giggle all the way up the glass staircase and all the way to his en-suite. He eases me back on the floor beside the bag he’d also carried with him.

  “Fifteen minutes and this ass is mine.” He smacks my butt for emphasis. I push him out and don’t waste any time getting in the shower and brushing my teeth. I imagine it’s exactly fifteen minutes when he barges in the bathroom, naked, while I’m running my fingers through my wet hair.

  I catch his piercing eyes in the mirror. My heart leaps into my throat. All those times I’ve seen him naked and I still feel the flutter of butterflies in my belly.

  “Time’s up.” I twist around, my ass pressing on the edge of the counter. He doesn’t waste a second to lift me off the ground, have me perched on the marble slab, pulling my legs wide open.

  His hair has grown quite a bit and I’m guessing he hasn’t shaved since he got the phone call last week. He’s starting more to resemble the man who rocked my world after he’d saved me from going insane.

  I don’t mind his clean-cut exterior when he’s at work, in his suit, or when he’s in his jeans while we hang out in my living room, or this guy who’s seen the world, experienced life. He’s Henrik. And he’s all mine.

  He drops to his knees and buries his head between my thighs. I reach for his hair and pull and tug. The more I do, the deeper he gets, the more he licks, tastes, eats my pussy. Until my legs are shaking and I’ve forgotten how to breathe.

  With a final, long lick, he stands and whispers against my lips, “I love it when you ride my face, love it when you come in my mouth.” He then carries me to the bed.

  His eyes are fervent, and on me. I’m the prey to this predator. Because I know he’s watching, I run my hands up and down my body, squeezing my tits, creating tiny points with my nipples, and with the other hand, I slip it down past my navel until I find my clit.

  His breathing is almost spastic while he strokes his cock a foot away from me. I spread my legs more and tease his thigh with my toes. He catches one foot and lifts it to his face, kissing my instep.

  “I’m going to fuck you first, hard, really hard.” He drops my foot on his shoulder and hovers over me for a second, enough to finish his words. “Then I’ll make sweet fucking love to you,” he promises.

  I nod, and he straightens and pulls me down, until my ass is hanging off the edge of the bed. Then he’s inside me. His intrusion unforgiving, making me gasp out loud and shouting his name.

  He fucks me so hard I don’t even care about the marks his fingers will leave on my thighs, nor if I’ll be able to walk tomorrow. I writhe, half on the bed, half off it. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow down, not even when I come all over his cock, and he goes on until he’s throbbing, spurting in my pussy.

  We both fall on the floor, spent, letting oxygen back into our lungs and the blood rushing back to our brains. My legs straddle him and my arms are wrapped around his torso. His arms rest on the bed behind me, and he hasn’t stopped kissing me, my lips, my hair, my cheeks.

  “I’ll get the strength back in my legs soon.”

  “I’m in no rush.”

  A few pants more and he peels us both off the floor, carefully stretching my spent body on the bed. With a hand on the mattress, he reaches for the glass of water on the night table. “Drink.” Like a good girl, I obey and he finishes the rest of it off. He collapses beside me, and I nestle closer to him, into the curve he’s formed with his body.

  “I’d like to see more of this place. It’s gorgeous from what I’ve seen so far.”

  “You will.” A kiss on my shoulder, a nuzzle on my neck. “But don’t get attached to it. I’m putting it up for sale soon.”

  I tilt my head to look at him. “Why?”

  He inhales deeply and breathes warm breath on my skin. “Well, I figure things are going well in Chicago, I won’t need this anymore.”

  I don’t say anything, but I keep a secret smile on my face.

  “Things are going well, aren’t they?” Again, I don’t reply. I’m so giddy. He snakes a hand over my abdomen and up, cupping one of my breasts. “Between us. We’re good.”

  “I’d say so,” I finally say, or squeak out more like it. “I thought…I was worried earlier when you said things are about to change that you’ll be moving back here.”

  “That’s not what I meant. I thought I’d convince Mom to move to Chicago.”

  “Do you think she will?”

  “I don’t know. Probably not since she’s so infatuated with Grayson.”

  I laugh a little. “Are you a mama’s boy, Henrik?”

  “No. It’s not easy seeing my mother with another man in her life. After Dad it’s been her and us. Paris said she’s been seeing Grayson even before we both moved.”

  “Sneaky. Sounds like someone I know.” I let out a fuller laugh to tease him. When I settle down, I address his earlier concern. “We are good. More than good. I think we’re great.”

  “We’ve managed to stray away from being work gossip.”

  “True. So you’re selling this house.”

  He nods against my neck. “I’ll find a new place in Chicago, leave Paris on her own. She’s ready.”

  “Or you can move in with me.”

  This time, he’s the one who takes a while to answer. “I’d love that.”

  “Me too.”

  “You don’t think it’s too soon?”

  “I think…” I prop a leg over his and tilt my head again to give him a kiss. “I think I love falling asleep in your arms. I love waking up beside you…with your cock against my back.” I smile wide. “And I think I love you.”

  He smiles with me, against my lips. “I love you, too.” After that, there’s not much more to say. But Henrik is a man of promise and since he promised to make sweet fucking love to me, he does just
that.

  I pace on the terracotta kitchen floor, my phone pressed hard to my ear. “What did you do?”

  “What makes you think it’s my fault?” Theo sounds defensive, which means he thinks he needs to defend himself. Which means I’m right.

  “What did you do, Theo? She wouldn’t quit for no reason at all.” Silence, for a bit until I hear him gritting his teeth on the other line. “I’m going to have to find out myself, aren’t I?”

  Theo doesn’t say a thing. Wuss. “Just make sure she’s okay.”

  “Yeah. I’ll make sure of that. Let me call her now.”

  I hear him adjust on his chair. “Can you let me know what she says?”

  “Seriously? When did you become such a pussy, Theo?”

  “I’m not…I wasn’t.” He expels a frustrated sigh. “Just call me back.”

  My smile widens when I hang up. I guess things are working out after all. But it’s not without its problems.

  “Everything okay?” Henrik asks when he enters the kitchen, capturing me in his arms.

  “Nothing that can’t be fixed. Talia quit when I left.”

  “No way! She’s so good.”

  “That’s what I said. Anyway, I have to call her and convince her to come back.” I tap a finger on my lips. “Is it okay if I tell her about us?”

  “I’m fine with it if you are. She seems trustworthy…and has one hell of an ass.”

  I slap his chest playfully. “Her boobs are better.”

  He kisses my lips and tightens his hold on me. When he finally lets me go, I sit on one of the stools along the island and dial Talia’s number.

  It doesn’t take me long to get her to come back to work, promising her a better position, better pay, which I’d intended to do anyway as soon as I return. Theo won’t say no. He can’t.

  I get off the stool and walk to the sink, pouring my cold coffee out of my cup. I watch Paris and Henrik chatting animatedly with their mother and Grayson. We’ve had a pleasant brunch, like a real family. Until now, I didn’t realize how much I’ve missed my parents. Mom would’ve adored Henrik, and they would’ve had a blast comparing modernistic and twenty-first-century art to the Renaissance period. And Dad would’ve liked him too and invited him to all his golf games.

  I wash the cup and let it dry on the side. Henrik returns and he stops by the door, staring at me. Just watching.

  “I think it’s time we go home.”

  I nod. “I think so too.”

  He slides by my side and I face him. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  When I open up to Talia about me and Henrik, it’s like an anvil has lifted off of me. It feels great to talk about it, about us to someone else other than Theo, who’s not always as receptive. I may have lied a little about Henrik being the one to want to keep us a secret, but Talia didn’t say much about it. Maybe she understands what I’m going through.

  I watch out of the clear windows and hum to myself, while people down on the streets hurry out of the rain. It’s good to be home, to be back to the office, and see my friends and colleagues again.

  The door behind me opens, letting a whoosh of noise in from the rest of the floor. Even before I feel his arms around me, I know it’s Henrik. His scent has been marked in my mind.

  “Someone might see us,” I warn him.

  “Then we’ll give them a great show,” he says in my hair. I smile to myself. “How was lunch with Talia?”

  “Good. Great. Something’s still bugging her but she’ll figure it out.”

  “And if she doesn’t?”

  “Then I’ll kick Theo’s ass.”

  He laughs low in my ear. “You’re such a bad ass. You really think they’ll work out?”

  I turn around, swinging my arms around his neck. “You best believe it. I’ve known even before they met each other. Have faith.”

  “With you, always.”

  And for the first time since we’ve been together, since I met him as my new competitor, since I knew I could never forget the man who’d helped me on the plane, Henrik kisses me despite us being at work. Office romances don’t always work. Henrik and I will have many issues to sort out, problems to solve, arguments, fights. But I think we’ll make it. After all, we survived a near plane crash. Any trouble from here on out won’t hold a candle to the first time we met.

  Run the World Series

  Did you enjoy reading about Ingrid and Henrik?

  Continue the series in Lady Balls, Book Four of Run the World Series!

  * * *

  Blurb:

  What do you do when you’re on top of the world?

  You indulge…

  Eliza Oshiko, Ice Queen of the Business World, thinks love and happily forever after are a waste of time for women like her. She conquers the boardroom and take no prisoners. And some nights, she enjoys the pleasures one-night stands can offer. Then she meets a sexy private chef, who chooses to live a simpler life while still working on reaching his goals. Will Seth show her some relationships are worth more than one night and more importantly, all the money in the world?

  * * *

  Find out more about the book here: https://quinnauthor.wixsite.com/quinnromancebooks/books

  About the Author

  USA Today Bestselling Author, Quinn writes stories full of humor, sass, drama or angst. But guaranteed, they are filled with steamy scenes with hot Alpha heroes and always happily ever after.

  She has a healthy obsession with reading and writing romance, and an unhealthy addiction to red wine, bourbon, and dark chocolate with sea salt. She doesn't people until after coffee. When Quinn is not scribbling Erotic Romances, she loves to curl up with her puppy and watch foreign films.

  Quinn lives in a house that never stays clean, no matter how much she wishes it would. She also writes sweet, contemporary romance, romantic comedy, and chick lit under a different pen name.

  Read More from Quinn

  https://quinnauthor.wixsite.com/quinnromancebooks

  Taking Over

  Brandy Ayers

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  Taking Over

  COPYRIGHT © 2018 by Brandy Ayers

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Contact Information: brandyayersauthor@gmail.com

  Visit me at www.brandyayers.com

  Published in the United States of America

  Taking Over

  Lydia St. James doesn’t take crap from anyone. Not in the boardroom, and certainly not in the bedroom. Being the founder and CEO of the fastest growing cosmetics company in the country leaves her no time for personal relationships. Instead, Lydia fills her very specific needs in the private rooms of Club Zion. And if she can’t make it there, she has a stable of male models and actors on the rise waiting in line to follow her every whim.

  A picture in a magazine, her story, her words, that was all it took. Damian Rasoio knew in his heart and his head that no other would ever compare to Lydia St. James. Months of planning and manipulating finally bring him face-to-face with his future. All those careful moves couldn’t prepare him, nothing could have.

  In a tug of war for control, it is anyone’s guess who is taking over.

  1

  Lydia

  Lydia shivered despite the warmth in the room. The source of the goose bumps covering her limbs wasn’t the temperature, but rather pure anticipation of the night ahead. It throbbed through her body in great beating waves. Beneath the silk robe wrapped around her body, her thighs were wet with the promise of what lay ahead.

  Stepping farther into the room, she surveyed the space to
make sure everything had been set in place just as she liked it. The walls were painted a midnight blue, giving the space a cavernous feel, and recessed lights throughout were dimmed except for one wall. Three spotlights focused on the platform where she would spend the next few hours.

  Lydia approached the wall and smiled in satisfaction. As always, the club had followed her specifications to the letter. Seven feet off the floor, a single carabiner clip hung from a bolt. She gripped the cool metal in her hand and tugged. The simple system held strong; it would need to for the fun she had in mind. On the floor, a small raised platform would put her on display for the entire room, making sure everyone would have a view whether they chose to participate or not. The leather ankle cuffs bolted to the wall exactly four feet apart just above the platform had blood rushing to her clit.

  Five months without a visit to Club Zion was far too long. No wonder she had made three interns cry that day. She needed her fix to find her balance.

  “Ma’am, are you satisfied with the accommodations?”

  Lydia turned to find the club owner, Stephan, striding in from the main hall. The man was tall and lean, and his inky black hair hung down to midback. He had delicate features for a man, but she knew from experience not to be fooled by them. Stephan could be ruthless in his kinks. His pretty looks had been known to lure playmates into a false sense of security, one he took pleasure in stripping away as he worked them over with his toys. Lydia took no pleasure in the more painful pursuits Zion offered, but she didn’t judge those who did. Stephan included.