Alana Stafford jerked upwards, blinking wide green eyes. “That was not sleeping.”
Nyssa stood straight and started going through the cards of messages on the corner of the mahogany desk. “Really? Then what was it?”
“Er…prayer?”
“Are you asking me or telling me?”
“Telling you?”
Flicking through the numbers, Nyssa tossed a few in the garbage can to the side. She didn’t have time for bullshit, and the majority of the messages she’d received were just that. Some were from players whining about ad campaigns they wanted. Others were from ad campaigns whining about the players they wanted. The rest were invitations to dinners she had no intention of attending unless they involved a deal of twenty percent commission and a sports line at Target.
“Try again, cupcake,” Nyssa said to Alana.
“Okay! I was asleep.” The younger woman flung her arms out to her sides. “Crucify me!”
“Put your arms down and go take a break.” She could very well crucify Alana, but since the girl was halfway through law school and pulled only God knew how many hours studying for exam after exam, having mercy only seemed sensible.
Alana sighed as she stood. “You must love me.”
“That and I don’t want you rubbing under-boob around the rim of my favorite mug before making me coffee in the mornings,” Nyssa called after her.
“That was one time and I did it to my ex-boss, who totally deserved it!”
Laughing softly, Nyssa took a quick peek across the office space to see whether or not Sansone’s door was open. That was typically the indicator that he was in. When she found it closed, she breathed a small sigh of relief. Nyssa was well aware she’d have to face him at some point in the very near future, but if she could avoid doing so for just a bit longer, her life would be so much easier.
Sunday night, when she’d known that he was having dinner at his parents’, she’d dropped his car back off with the help of Samara while she was still in town. Since she hadn’t heard from him since Saturday morning, Nyssa concluded he was also attempting to step around the elephant in the room. Wednesdays were slow for them normally—which meant they’d either do absolutely nothing or they’d plan for the rest of the work week. He might’ve chosen to go scouting today, something she wouldn’t mind in the least bit. With him out of the office, she could focus on contracts, signing bonuses, and energy drink lines.
Nyssa unlocked her office door and flicked on the overhead light before hitting the button that would open her window shades and give her an amazing view of Center City Philly. Penn’s Landing was in walking distance from where they were located, and she could see the Benjamin Franklin Bridge along with the pier and the trolley. With a deep breath, she unbuttoned her jacket and slid it off, tossing it carelessly on the love seat to her right.
She walked toward her desk and was reaching for her wireless mouse to wake up her desktop when her leather chair suddenly spun from its wall-facing position and Sansone came into view.
“Motherfucker!”
He smirked and leaned forward, placing his forearms on her desk. “And good morning to you too, sweetness.”
“What are you doing?”
Shrugging, he gave her a nonchalant look. “Nothing, why?”
“Because you’re dwelling in my office like a nocturnal Godfather reject! Jesus Christ, Sunny! What’s wrong with you?” Her heartbeat was thrumming in her ears, and it had nothing to do with the fact he’d scared the hell out of her. It was all due to that goddamn stare. The knowing one he shot her anytime he caught her attempting to do something she had no business doing—like avoiding him.
He hadn’t brushed his hair back today so the caramel curls were a little disheveled, falling adorably around his forehead, ears, and the nape of his neck. He’d foregone a full suit and settled for a tailored, stark white dress-shirt that was rolled up to his elbows, unbuttoned at the top, and tucked into gunmetal gray slacks. As usual, his clothing fit his wide, muscular physique perfectly.
“Nothing’s wrong with me,” Sansone answered in a low tone, blinking up at her. “But you can do me the honor of explaining what’s wrong with you.”
She knew exactly what he meant but it was best to pretend like she didn’t. “I don’t understand—”
“Do. Not,” he cut in, his voice remaining soft and even. “You committed an act of sexual harassment and grand larceny just a few days ago, or are we pretending as though that didn’t happen?”
“Oh, you have to be kidding me with this shit. Sexual harassment?”
Sansone folded his arms across his chest. “You exposed my peter.”
God in heaven…
“Sunny, get out of my office.”
He rested one ankle on the opposite thigh and sat back. “Not until we talk about your little stunt.”
“I don’t want to talk about my little stunt,” Nyssa said between clenched teeth. “As a matter of fact, the whole reason why I haven’t been here is to not talk about my little stunt.”
“Heh.”
She hated that noise! And right now she hated the mouth it had come from.
Nyssa pointed to the door. “Out.”
Standing in one smooth motion that almost made him look ethereal, Sansone walked in a slow gait toward the door.
Placing her hands against her desk, she tried to draw in an inhale that wasn’t jagged and listened to the sound of the door locking and closing. Oxygen was much easier to pull in when he wasn’t invading her space, stealing her sense. Control and rationality had kept her safe all this time but some way, somehow, he’d slipped past both and gotten under her skin in a way no one else ever had.
He was insane but she loved him and his need for expensive hair products. Possibly more than she should’ve, but it wasn’t to be helped. Sansone made her feel like she wasn’t just another position-hungry bitch climbing the ladder—something James had told her—in anticipation of the day when she could find a boy toy and order him about. His looks aside, what was in his heart had attracted her. He was, in all honesty, a genuinely good man. One she could never have, because if they parted, it would kill her. He was steady; he was supposed to be safe. He was supposed to be the one she could trust herself around implicitly but somewhere along the way she’d lost that comfort.
“I think you’ve forgotten exactly whom you’re dealing with, cara.”
Nyssa jerked upwards and around, finding Sansone leaning against her door, his gaze acute. “When have I ever gone away that easy?” He stepped forward. “And when are you planning to stop avoiding me?”
She chewed the inside of her cheek briefly. “Sunny—”
“Quiet,” Sansone murmured, coming closer. “I stayed up for hours Friday night, questioning precisely what it was I should say to you, how I should handle the fact that I’d finally gotten the opportunity to taste the sweetest mouth I’ve ever known, and I decided to let it die. I decided to say nothing.”
Tucking in her lips, she leaned back against her desk as he stood toe to toe with her.
“Then I caught you creeping downstairs Saturday morning and thought to myself for all of five seconds, ‘Let her go. Call her later. Act like nothing happened.’” He lifted a hand as if to touch her but drew back and balled it into a fist before dropping it to his side. “But I couldn’t,” Sansone whispered. Angling himself, he pinned her in on either side with his hands, placing them on the desk. “I have the ability to do a lot of things but watching you walk away from me, even unknowingly, will never be one of my skills.”
The scent of saffron and cardamom enveloped her, the heat of Sansone’s nearness making it nearly impossible to breathe. And when he looked at her as though he were about to lose the last bit of control either of them had, Nyssa’s pussy spasmed, the minute sensation causing her thighs to tense as he made it abundantly clear he wanted a lot more than just that kiss.
“Tell me something, sweetness.” His voice had dropped to a low rumble that caused
her nipples to bead and scrape against the lace of her bra with every ragged lungful of air. “Are you avoiding me because you regret the kiss itself, or because you regret not doing it sooner?”
Nyssa shook her head and leaned back as far as she could, trying to push through the haze of desire clouding her determination not to ruin a friendship that meant way more to her than just a good fuck. “I’m avoiding you because that kiss was a—”
“If the word mistake leaves your mouth, I am going to spank you, Nyssa.” Sansone growled, interrupting. “Now nod if you understand.”
“Sunny—”
He slapped the desk behind her and she snapped her mouth shut.
“I. Said. Nod.”
How sick was it that it felt as though the walls of her cunt would cave in on themselves just from that one aggressive gesture? Nyssa slowly nodded.
His jaw clenched and he placed his forehead against her own. “Do you honestly believe you’re the only one between us who can’t concentrate when the other comes near? Do you have any idea how much restraint it’s taking me to not bend you over this desk? Every single day from the moment I met you has been spent in agony. Every single smile, every single laugh, every single blink leaves me devastated.” Sansone’s palms went from the desk to her hips. “You’re running because you’ve somehow talked yourself into thinking you’re the only one between us who’s struggling with the choice to leave our relationship in limbo.”
She opened her mouth to deny that and he placed a fingertip against it. “I know you, Nyssa. Lying to me is like trying to lie to your own reflection—impossible. You think whatever’s happening now doesn’t scare the fuck outta me? Every second of every day this week has been spent wondering where you were, what you were doing, if you were eating breakfast because you enjoy skipping that for reasons I still can’t determine.” Cupping her jaw, he placed his lips to her ear and whispered, “It was spent wondering if you’d been fantasizing about me the way I had been about you; wondering if you were stroking what should so rightfully be my pussy with my name on your lips.”
Fu-huck. If she exhaled any harder, she was going to hyperventilate. Nyssa restlessly moved from one foot to another. Rubbing her thighs together just right might ease the steadily building tension he’d placed there.
“Why’re you moving so much, cara?” he queried.
Nyssa drew in a sharp inhale.
Sansone’s hands roamed to the hem of her skirt, playing around the edges.
“Is there something wrong here?” One finger tapped just the inside of her thigh and she bit down on her bottom lip so hard she tasted blood. There was no more logic. No more sense. No more sanity. He’d stripped her bare without ever really touching her, and Nyssa was on the edge of falling head first into the abyss that was Sansone Sultana.
“Is it because you’re wet?”
Oh, God. She shook her head quickly.
His brows flicked upwards as he gave her a distinctly devilish grin. “I think you’re lying to me.”
“I’m…I’m not.”
He stepped completely back, glanced at the locked door and commanded quietly, “Sit on the desk and pull your skirt up to your hips. I want to see for myself.”
Sweet baby Jesus…
***
“Sunny—”
Was I not clear?” Sansone interrupted. “Do you not understand that you no longer have any control here?” He stuffed his hands into the front pockets of his slacks to keep from grabbing hold of her and nodded toward the closed door. “Out there, you reign, but in here, I do. Nod if you understand.”
She looked as though she were about to argue, but whatever she saw in his eyes stopped her words. Nyssa gave a simple nod.
“Good. Now do as I told you.”
Clenching his jaw, he watched her fight the desire to run, to get out of his presence as quickly as possible. Sansone had no idea what had shifted in him between Saturday morning and now but it happened the moment he’d come home from dinner at his parents’ and found his car parked in his driveway with a note on the windshield informing him his keys were back on the hook in his foyer. He’d wanted to find her then and make her explain why she was treating him like a stranger. However, his momentary frustration turned into cold determination as the days went by and she remained hidden away from him like a rabbit in its burrow.
Sansone was completely done with swallowing down the need to have her with him. Too many minutes, hours, days had passed where he’d bit the inside of his cheek and watched her amble past him like he was a simple wall fixture. There had been too many times where he stopped his tongue from spilling out everything he’d ever wanted to say to her from the moment her palm slid across his own. Nyssa belonged to him all the way down to her inhales and exhales. She always had and she always would. He needed her to grasp that this wasn’t some simple reckless moment of longing. Just the promise of her smile was the reason he got out of bed in the morning. The twitch of her lips was the reason he found himself completely and totally entranced in the middle of staff meetings.
Nyssa wasn’t aware, but he’d lied earlier when he told her she only reigned outside the four walls of this office, because she had far more control than she knew. What other woman could have him up at four a.m. doing push-ups until he tired himself out just to be able to sleep without thinking of her? What other woman could simply lift a brow and tempt him to drop to his knees and offer her everything he had on a platinum platter? What other woman made his hands shake because he occasionally caught the scent of rosemary and it prompted too many illicit fantasies to name? The answer was simple—there wasn’t any other woman as far as Sansone was concerned. There was only Nyssa.
He hadn’t meant for things to go this far, but the moment he saw how her nostrils flared just the tiniest bit when he’d spun around in her chair, whatever preemptive plan he had was swiped clean. All he could see was the fullness of her mouth, then the peak of creamy flesh she’d delivered in burnished orange blouse that complemented her flawless complexion beautifully, and a chocolate-colored bandage pencil skirt that was just long enough to be decent. Legs he consistently imagined locked around his neck appeared endless in the four-inch pumps she strutted in as though they were no more than Keds.
She was utter perfection in the most basic ways, and it took all his focus off of talking rationally and put it on right now, right in this moment where she was catching her bottom lip between her teeth and tapping her fingers against the hem of her skirt, her eyes wide and slightly glazed over with excitement. Her nipples were beaded and pushing against her top, apparent with every deep breath.
“Don’t make me say it again, Nyssa.”
Shivering visibly, she began to slowly pull at the hem, her eyes going from him to the floor.
“Unh-unh. Look at me,” Sansone demanded. “You don’t get to hide from me anymore.”
Her lashes flicked upwards and she refocused her stare on his. He cast a glance to her hands as they steadily moved her skirt, the stretchy material sliding over her velvety thighs, tugging up over the rise of her luscious ass and finally stopping at her hips. She leaned backwards and sat on the desk, her hands fisted in her lap.
“Open your legs,” Sansone growled. His cock was so hard it had its own pulse. The way she smelled, that quiet spark of defiance in her hazel orbs caused him to grit his back teeth. Jesus, she was going to make him lose it. Nyssa’s mouth was like the taste of chocolate—rich, decadent, sinful and completely addictive. He’d only had a nibble and now he wanted the entire piece of candy.
She blinked but didn’t argue, slowly spreading her thighs until he got a good view of pink lace that had a distinct damp spot at the crotch. He was across the room before he could re-think it, his hands gripping her thighs and spreading them wider. Nyssa gasped when he tugged her forward.
“How many times?” he rumbled, putting his mouth to her neck. “How many times were you like this for me and I didn’t know?” His nose caught her unique smell and his s
tomach clenched.
Nyssa whimpered.
“That’s not an answer, cara.” Sansone nipped just beneath her earlobe and felt her tremble, heard her pant. His hands roved the lush flesh before coming to rest just at her bikini line, playing with the fabric that covered her. His thumbs tapped her pelvic bone and her forehead hit his shoulder as he rubbed the space in circular motions. “Tell me.”
“I don’t know…” Her voice was low, the tone telling on her.
“You do.” He pushed, working his hands down to the inner parts of her thighs and stopping just there. Her breath heaved as he placed a thumb to the damp spot just at the folds of her sex and pressed down. “Did your pussy cry for me like this while I was near you?”
She mutely nodded.
Sansone closed his eyes. “And did you relieve yourself when I was gone?”
Another mute nod.
“I want to hear the words, Nyssa. Say, ‘I touched myself because of you, Sansone.’”
Nyssa dutifully repeated the words and his balls drew up, his cock thumping against the crotch of his trousers. He found her clit and brushed it rhythmically. “Like this?”
“Y-yes…”
“Was this all you did, sweetness? Or was there more?”
“There was…” She stopped, her hips lifting as she kept up with the pace of his digit. “There was more.”
Sansone used his free hand to grip her wrist and pull her hand over to the apex of her thighs. He stopped his ministrations and replaced his digits with hers. “Show me.”
She hesitated.
Hooking his index finger into the crotch, he pulled the lacey confection to the side. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”
Her groan was almost his undoing, and when he watched her hand disappear between her thighs, her manicured fingers rolling across the engorged nubbin of her clit, he nearly shut his eyes to block out the image and keep himself from shooting his load in his boxers.
“Mmm…”
Sansone watched the way she stroked herself, saw how her pulse beat steadily at the base of her throat as she swallowed and gulped in air. Two fingers thrust into her core and he gripped her thighs harder, pushing them even farther apart so he wouldn’t miss a moment of his wet dream come to life.
Beauty and the Barracuda Page 5
