"It's a better promotion than I will get back home."
"Could you live here day in and day out—for years? Away from your family and friends?"
"Are you trying to psych me out?"
"Just pointing out the facts. You won't know anyone here other than your colleagues. The apartments are absolutely tiny. You won't have a car, and you'll be stuck on a tiny island with millions of people."
"I'll make do," she said. That sturdy defiance shone through her eyes.
"I wouldn't give you more than a year."
"So what makes you so excited to be away from your hometown? What are you escaping from?"
"Nothing."
"Uh huh," she said, unconvinced.
"I like it here," he said. "I like the energy. It's always on the go here."
The food arrived and Lukas felt his mouth watering. There were certainly things he loved about living here. He loved feeling like he had inside knowledge of a culture that was really foreign. In fact, he loved being a foreigner.
Mercy ate as though she loved the food, and how could you not? It was sweet and salty, the flavors marrying so beautifully.
"Food here is nothing like Chinese food back home," she stated. "Although I live close to Koreatown, so we get more Korean food."
"We?"
Her eyes clouded over and he saw that there was an ex on the scene. "Speaking more generally," she said. Did she still speak to him, hoping they would get back together? For himself, he didn't go back—ever. When he'd broken up with his last girlfriend, he hadn't encouraged any communication and that had worked for both of them. "This is lovely," she said. "Honestly, I don't love the dim sum so much, but this is really nice. I had something similar in Vietnam, but the rice was different—more glutenous."
"You've been to Vietnam."
"Backpacked."
Somehow he couldn't imagine her with a backpack on her, wearing tank tops and bright patterned pants. Actually, now that he thought about it, he could. Himself, he could never go with the disheveled style of backpackers, preferring nice hotels over some questionable hostel. "Not really my thing."
"You don't say. I would never have guessed," she said with faux surprise. "Travel in dilapidated intercity buses with no air-conditioning, not really sure where you'll end up."
Lukas didn't bother to suppress his shudder. "Sounds like fun," he said dryly.
"Some people do have a life outside of harassing girls in their offices."
"Pointing out your shortcomings hardly constitutes harassment."
"Feeling me up does."
"I didn't—" he started, but found that he couldn't continue, because he essentially had through the illicit use of some rolled up plans.
"Sorry, what was that?" she said, putting her hand to her ear. "I didn't hear you."
"You challenged me to distract you, and I did. And I succeeded."
"No, you didn't."
"Because at no point during that presentation did you rub your thighs together." He'd seen it because he was looking at it.
Her face grew serious for a moment. "As a distraction, it worked wonderfully. I killed that presentation."
That was hard to argue. She had been utterly alive, even commanding. And at more than one point, he had imagined leaning her over the boardroom table and taking her hard. He wasn't proud of it, less so when she'd given him a demo that morning. The truth was that the urge to sink deep into her was there, constantly skirting his consciousness. And now she'd more or less admitted that he'd turned her on and she'd come alive with it. That was hard for a guy to ignore.
9
MERCY LICKED THE LAST of the salty sauce off her lips as she finished. It really had been yummy and it wouldn't be the last time she’d come here. The waitress with the ponytail came and handed them the bill and they each drew out a ten dollar note and placed it on the plastic tray.
Turning to look back on the street, she saw that it was raining heavily. She'd been too absorbed in her food and the company to notice. "Crap," she said.
"Do you want to wait?" he asked. Pulling on his long coat, it wouldn't bother him so much. She had her jacket, so it wasn't the end of the world.
"No, I want to get back. The weather report this morning said that it was going to rain all afternoon. Might as well bite the bullet."
"Alright," he said and followed her out. The rain fell in fat, cold drops and Mercy ran across the street with tightly crossed arms. At least the rain had slowed the traffic and she darted between queuing cars to the other side of the street, running along the sidewalk until they reached their building. Her shoulders were soaked and she could start to feel the moisture seeping through the jacket along her shoulders and back, so she took it off before it chilled her.
The elevator was waiting and the door closed behind them as they got in.
"Nice bra," he said when he leaned back against the railing.
Looking down, she saw that her red bra was now showing through the wet front of her blouse. With a sigh, she shrugged and watched the floor counter. Lukas wasn't taking his eyes off her bra. Whatever he said, he totally had the hots for her.
"So are you actually going to share what you're doing at some point?" he asked.
"Come have a look if you want," she said, turning her eyes to his. The elevator dinged their arrival and Mercy hung up her jacket on a standing coatrack, also taking her soaked shoes off. Unfortunately, they weren't waterproof.
Padding silently to the boardroom, she wished she had a towel for her hair, but there was nothing. Water dripped down her back. Grabbing a pen, she used it to tie it up in a messy bun. Better than dripping.
Lukas joined her, minus his jacket. He'd come through their dash to the office better than she had.
"Alright, so here's what I'm thinking," she said, trying to get her mind sorted. Now that he stood in front of her, it felt strange seeing him in jeans and t-shirt. He stood with his arms crossed, the skin around his neck slick with water. Not entirely unscathed, it seemed. "I wanted to think about some of the higher functionality that this technology will allow us, starting with the current functions and building up from there. We have the recording of data over on this side," she said, referring to a cluster of post-its, "then how that information is put together and analyzed. That's where a lot of improvement can be gained. Everything they do now is manual, so they only focus on a couple of narrow indicators. Are you paying attention?"
"Yes."
"To my bra."
"I can look at your bra and still listen."
Mercy rolled her eyes. "So we basically need a reporting engine."
"You think your AI guys can build you one?"
"They say they can."
Lukas snorted. "Never heard of an engineer who overpromised what they could deliver."
"Spoilsport."
"Dreamer."
Turning herself back to the table, she pointed at another cluster. "That's the feed into the legacy systems. Obviously, we want to upsell here." A slight pressure along her bra at the back made her stop, just along where it was fastened. "Don't touch," she said pointedly.
"Sounds like a dare."
"Got a thing for bras?"
"I seem to for this one." His fingers pinched it together and it unhooked. Mercy felt the material give around her sides and her breasts. "Comes undone really easily."
Mercy had two choices in how to react, but she couldn't decide which one to choose. There was something deeply satisfying in their consistently combative dealings, but he was proposing something else.
A single finger stroked down her spine, slowly moving lower. She should be ripping him to pieces, but she wasn't. Her body was utterly attuned to his finger, feeling it's warmth, feeling it move from the wet part of her blouse to the dry. Running lower, his fingers skimmed over her hips and her backside. Curious sensations spiraled up her, collecting at her nipples where the loose bra was caressing her.
Again there was an urge to rip into him, but she couldn't brin
g herself to. This was… exciting. Forbidden even. They were competing, and they should not be doing this.
Without seeing it, she felt him step closer behind her, felt the heat, the firmness of him, his breath on the cool, wet skin of her neck. "Careful of the picture you paint, is all I'm saying," he said, his fingers urging her to bend over similarly to how she'd teased him before. "Once in someone's mind, it might be hard to get out."
Obviously, she could choose not to comply, but she didn't. She was too curious where this would go. The slight touches sensitized her skin so even the shifting air currents of his movements tingled along her skin, and a deep, heady heaviness filled her, igniting anticipation inside her. They should not be doing this, but she couldn't stop. Her breaths were deepening, getting caught in her throat.
A warm hand reached down her skirt and traced up the inside of her thigh as he had done the day before. The firm warmth radiated along her as he slowly shifted higher. Her insides flared alight and she tried to swallow, pushing her legs apart as far as the skirt would allow.
Both of her hands on the table, she waited with anticipation to see what he would do. This was every level of wrong, but she loved it. The tightness of her skirt impeded him just short of reaching where she really wanted him to touch. Mercy closed her eyes in disappointment. It felt like a letdown, an anticlimax. Damned skirt.
Instead of tugging her skirt up, he tugged her blouse out of the top of it, until his hands could reach underneath, sneaking under her bra and cupping her breasts. A moan escaped her as warm, firm hands kneaded her softness. Her knees felt like giving, so she couldn't stop leaning on the table as his front pressed into her backside. There was no doubt he was as turned on as she was. She could feel his hard cock pressing into her backside.
Lips kissed along her shoulder toward her neck, until she could feel the slightest scrape of stubble along her skin. She wanted to taste him in return, but she wasn't able to. The need to taste him grew stronger and stronger, until she twisted her head back to his lips. The taste of him suffused her being as he kissed her, firm fingers teasing her nipples, stoking the fire burning between her legs. She needed him to fuck her.
Unable to take the teasing anymore, she lay her chest down on the table, partly because she wasn't entirely sure her legs would support her. Her own breath bounced off the wood back at her as she panted. It had been a really long time since she'd been this hot for someone.
As he moved away from her, she had a moment where she didn't know if he would come back, but then his hand returned, tracing over the curve of her backside, his thumb flaring into the apex of her thighs. Her underwear was soaking wet. Red and matching with the bra that had drawn his attention so steadily, part of her best set, which she had pulled on coming to the office this morning. Now was perhaps not the time to question why.
Hands pulled her skirt up and then he gave an appreciative moan when he saw the red underwear. Fingers traced along the edge, traveling down until his fingers firmly pressed into her wet folds. A deep groan escaped her as sensation coursed through her. A finger slipped inside her panties and inside her. Pressure and warmth inside her, stroking in and out. Her sex clenched around him, wanting more. Free of her skirt, she could widen her legs now, bare herself to him. But when she pressed herself back into him, he retreated. Not out, but just until she stopped.
"I want more," she groaned.
"Greedy and impatient. Wait your turn."
The urge to snap at him clenched inside her, but she knew she couldn't. There was a battle of wills here and they both knew it. This was about him doing this to her and he would not be compelled. He pulled away from her entirely.
Defeated, she put her face down against the cool table, forced to relent to how he wanted to do this. The slow sound of his zipper going down might have been the most exciting thing she had ever heard, then the slow lowering of her panties, forcing her to bite her lip to contain herself. Cool air caressed her heated sex, and she ached for warmth. He was teasing her on purpose and they both knew it.
His hand splayed along the curve of her backside, the warmth of it teasing her. Finally the tip of him at her entrance, but she didn't get the firm stroke into her that she wanted, instead, just the tip teasing in and out, giving just enough to drive her crazy without the satisfaction she needed. Her thighs shook with anticipation and tension, and her insides clenched tightly, but he wouldn't give her all of him.
"Lukas," she pleaded through gritted teeth.
A hand snuck around to her front, seeking her clit, to pinch and press, sending her absolutely crazy. She was coming around the tip of him, her insides pulsing furiously as her orgasm rushed toward her. Arching into him, she shook with it and at its height, he plunged into her, the fullness all the way inside her, urging her orgasm to another level. Strong contractions around him sent waves and waves of pleasure through her body, and didn't stop as he repeatedly slammed into her. Her hips would bruise, but she didn't care. Her orgasm just extended on and on with every thrust, so fierce, she had to cry out.
Firm hands held her hips, pulling her back onto him. The onslaught of sensation was almost painful by the time he came, grinding hard into her, release shuddering through his body. The feel of it made more drawn out convulsions force their way through her body. She as absolutely drained. Not even sure she could stand.
Inside her, he softened, as did the hard edge of her orgasm. Quite possibly, she had never come that hard before and she loved the feeling of him inside her. She wanted more, but her body was too sensitized to take any.
His hands supported him by her shoulders and he slowly pushed himself away, slipping out of her in the process.
10
THEY SAT IN MR. HOLLAND’S office waiting for him to speak. "Well, it is nice to see you two cooperating," Mr. Holland said. "The solution you are thinking up is interesting. It will require extra development in terms of a reporting engine. I take it the San Francisco guys are on board with this engine."
"Yes," Mercy confirmed and Lukas cast a glance over at her.
The San Francisco team had set up in the boardroom, working on the project, that to Lukas at least, felt like he and Mercy had fucked into existence over the weekend. After that rather spectacular session, they'd returned to the hotel and repeated the performance numerous times, in between talking about what this engine should do and how it should work. Now everything was coming together.
"Good. I look forward to hearing the progress. I won't drop hints with Mr. Lee yet, but I think he will be very excited. No news that the competitors are proposing anything along these lines. Alright, get to it," he said as way of dismissal.
It seemed their closeness had been noted. He and Mercy were like magnets, repelling each other consistently, but on the opposite side, attracting each other with force. In fact, they hadn't really been apart since the weekend.
She walked ahead of him, today wearing a softer skirt than her typical pencil skirts, the material so light it bounced around her thighs as she walked. It was inordinately sexy. With a glance, she looked back at him and he wondered what was on her mind.
The documentation he'd been working on still sat open on his computer as he sat down, the third person who'd joined them in their office still absorbed in his work.
"It would be good to do another trip up to speak to Mr. Lee's team, when we have more of a handle on the reporting engine, to make sure we haven't missed any important indicators," Mercy said.
"I think we have to wait on Mr. Holland. He needs to decide how and when he wants to broach this change in scope with the client." At the end of the day, this was Mr. Holland's client. They were merely there to assist him. He owned the relationship with the client.
The third person in the office rose from their chair and gathered up their notebook, obviously off somewhere.
Mercy swung around her chair as he left, turning to Lukas. "Not really much we can do until the AI team does their review."
"Nope," Lukas said, putting
his pen down, which he was still holding from the meeting with Mr. Holland, more or less just to keep his hands busy. Leaning back in his chair, he angled himself toward Mercy, thinking how beautiful she was. She had been since the moment she'd walked into this office that first day, tense and wary as she had been. The way she was now was different. He'd gotten past the cool reserve.
With a smile on her lips, she pulled that soft, light beige skirt up her thighs and parted them slightly until he could see that she wasn't wearing underwear.
"You're naughty," he said with a smile. She certainly had a playful streak, and right now, she wanted to play, which was a problem, because there was nowhere in this office to do so. Possibilities raced through his mind—if they could sneak off to the hotel, but it would be so noticed. It was really hard to hide an affair in an office. But she liked the risk.
But the sight of her flashing him, of her eagerness, was gut-wrenching and he was already hardening. As it was, it had been long enough since he'd been inside her, hours ago. "Bathroom," he said through gritted teeth.
"You go first," she said, turning away from him.
Without wanting to think of the risk and possible consequence, he walked through the office to the swipe doors that led out to the bathrooms. They were located in the stairwell which led all the way down the building.
His heart was beating heavily with anticipation as he waited and it didn't take her long to arrive. Taking his hand, she started toward the men's, but he tugged her back into a kiss. "Downstairs," he said, thinking they might as well do it in the bathrooms of the law firm a story down. You couldn't hide an affair, but you could certainly implicate it as an issue happening in the firm below.
Quickly taking the stairs down, they met no one in the brightly lit and empty bathroom. It wasn't perhaps the most romantic space, but neither of them seemed to care. Right now, he just needed to be inside her.
With her hands on his waist, she pulled him into a kiss, the taste of her lulling everything in him. How could he have gone hours without this, without her? Picking her up to wrap her thighs around him, he walked her into one of the stalls. There was every possibility that someone would come in, but neither of them cared.
Seduction in a Suit: An Office Romance Collection Page 103
