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Bossy

Page 11

by Kim Linwood


  That moment is indelibly burned into my memory.

  And then two weeks later he was gone. Why hadn’t I watched him more closely? If I’d really loved him, I would’ve done more. Something. Anything. Maybe if I’d kept him home, he wouldn’t have jumped. Maybe not. But maybe.

  I’ll never know.

  Sagging back into my chair, I drop my face into my hands. There’s not a minute in every day where I don’t want him back, but until this case, I’d thought I’d gained some distance. Not gotten over it. I’ll never get over it. But past it in a way, at least enough to think rationally about what happened.

  For years I’ve had one dream. Study hard, finish school, make a difference. Except here I sit, and in the span of a couple short weeks, I’ve started to doubt if I have the strength to see it through.

  My lip quivers. Crap. I can’t cry here. Not now. Not in front of him.

  I keep my head low and try to take some deep breaths, but tears leak out, and when I take in a lungful of air, it comes back out in a ragged sob. I hear Declan get up, but I refuse to look, afraid that seeing his face will make me lose what little control I still have.

  His arm goes around me. He’s kneeling, pulling me against his chest. My resistance is token at best before I let him. Right now, in his arms I feel safe. Maybe it’s the way he holds me. For once he’s not squeezing or prodding me anywhere, or trying to get his hand into my shirt. He just holds me and lets me cry.

  “Your dad?” His question is soft, right next to my ear. Not trusting myself to speak, I nod. He squeezes harder. “Yeah, I figured.”

  I have no idea how long we sit there, but he holds me quietly without rushing me. Just giving me a shoulder to cry on. He brushes a lock of hair off my face, and suddenly I can’t hold it in anymore. With a wailing cry, I let it go in a way I haven’t since we got the call that Dad died.

  When he finally speaks, it’s with a low, thoughtful tone. “Mom passed from cancer. I was seventeen when it happened. By the time she got the diagnosis, it had already spread into several organs and there was nothing they could do but keep her comfortable.” He sighs deeply, and I think the crushing hold he has on me is as much for him as it is for me.

  “One day, she was all smiles, energetic, carefree. Then it was like we watched the light die in her eyes a little bit each day until she passed only two months later.” He’s so close I can hear him swallow, and his voice is tight. “Just so you know, you’re not alone.”

  Tentatively, like he’s going to burn me if I touch him, I reach around and, closing my eyes, clutch him back. I’m not even close to getting all the way around, but I hug what I can.

  This moment, full of pain and loss for the both of us, feels more real than anything we’ve had together in days. Maybe ever. Sometimes he’s such a jerk that I think hating each other would be easier. Instead, we’re caught in this emotional purgatory of want and need and hope and anger.

  His heart beats strongly under his shirt. With my head against his broad chest I can feel it, loud and strong. I’ve stopped crying, but I don’t let go. Not until he finally pulls away, slowly, as if he’s reluctant to do it.

  When we separate, his face is calm but his eyes are bright. I’m sure mine are bloodshot all to hell. I grab a tissue off his desk and blow my nose. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be bringing my private life to work. Give me a minute, and I’ll be back to normal.”

  He runs his hand down my arm with a light touch. “You know what, how about we call it for today? I’ll think about what you said, but no promises. If there is anything we can do short of sabotaging the case, maybe it’s worth a shot.”

  I sniffle, trying to get my emotions back under control. I’d love nothing more than to make sure this case goes right into the crapper, but with that, my internship would follow right behind. And do I really want to start my career by subverting the court process? Yes, but no. “Thanks for at least listening.”

  He starts to say something, then stops.

  “What?” I sniffle again, but even though my face is tight and my eyes are stinging, I seem to be all cried out for the moment.

  “I don’t want to like you,” he says with such simple honesty it makes me nervous. “Fuck, your mom represents everything I hate right now.” He grins, like that’s supposed to make me feel better somehow. “But you... I don’t know. I love how you’re passionate about this shit. I love how you’re all proper, and I love how you look drenched in the rain.” He leans in closer, the compassion in his gaze replaced by just plain passion. “You make me want to do bad things to you.”

  I swallow, his words making me shiver. “We tried that, remember? It just keeps messing things up.” It’s hard to even look at him without remembering the feel of cold, wet brick at my back, and his body moving against mine.

  He smiles as if he can hear my thoughts. “Maybe we’ve just been going about it wrong.”

  “Um... I know I don’t have your extensive experience, but I’m pretty sure we did it right.”

  Running a hand softly up my arm, he chuckles when I press into the caress. I scowl and pull away, but it’s too late to hide my reaction.

  Declan grins. “That’s not what I mean, babe, but I’m glad to know it wasn’t all bad.”

  I’m wearing a pretty powder blue blouse, my blazer back out in the other room next to my desk. His hand goes to the front and with a practiced motion pops the top button.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” I swat at his hand, wishing I felt as outraged as I try to sound. Instead, my heart’s pounding and there’s heat building between my legs. I try to back up, but I’m already sitting as far back in my chair as it’ll allow.

  “What I’ve wanted to do since you walked in that door.” He pops another button.

  My bra is pearly white with lacy trim. He’s going to think I’m wearing it for him, and I’m not sure he’s totally wrong. All I know is he sees part of it now that the button’s open.

  I put my hands on his wrist, pushing him away, but it’s half-hearted. He has no trouble forcing them aside, pushing them onto the armrests of my chair. “Keep them here, babe. Wouldn’t want them to get in the way.”

  I’m panicking a little, but I don’t move my hands. I don’t even know why. Actually, that’s not true. As he reaches for a third button, I know exactly why. I glance at the door, but it’s shut. There are over a dozen people just on the other side and my grip on the armrests tightens. “What if—”

  “Shhh.” Popping a fourth button with his left, he brings his other hand up to cup my jaw, tilting my head to face his. He leans in and I lick my lips in anticipation. “See, I think our problem is that we need to keep things professional.”

  There’s only one button keeping my blouse closed now, and his fingers grip it. I expect him to pop my shirt open, but he waits, just holding it. “I’m giving you one chance to stop this. Right now. Push me away and I’ll let you go.” His lips are almost on mine. “But you’ll miss out on my hands on your gorgeous tits. My mouth eating that hungry pussy. My cock so deep inside you, you’ll taste me.”

  “Professional?” I squeak.

  “Oh yeah, inside these four walls, I’m in charge. You’re only doing your job by keeping me happy, and a happy boss makes for a happy employee. Don’t you want to be happy, Claire? Or do you want to walk out that door and get back to work?”

  He waits and I do nothing. Only a few moments, but long enough. Flexing his fingers, he pops the last button.

  My blouse falls completely open.

  Declan

  For all my teasing, I’ve never fucked around at work before. Not literally anyway.

  I shouldn’t be doing it now, not after the shitstorm at the party, and not after my dressing down in Dad’s office. Except every time we touch, my brain short-circuits and my blood flow heads straight south.

  Fuck, she’s so sexy right now, skin flushed and the swell of her tits rising and falling with her quick little breaths.

  Pushing her s
hirt aside, I cup one through her delicate white bra, feeling it fill my hand just right under the rough lace. I trail my lips against her neck, tasting her, making her mine. She moans softly and I know there’s no way we’re stopping this time.

  Four months is way too fucking long.

  I push closer, on my knees in front of her so she has to spread her legs to make room. Her skirt bunches up on her thighs, so high I can see her matching panties peeking out. They’re stretched tight across her pussy, exactly where I want to be.

  It takes effort not to tear them off.

  My fingers stroke softly over the fabric, and I lean forward to capture her gasp with a kiss. There’s no gentleness in the way I plunge my tongue into her mouth. I’m drowning and she’s the air I need to live.

  Claire’s not just along for the ride, though, and that’s one of the things I love about her. She meets me stroke for stroke, demanding more. She lifts away from the chair just long enough for me to push her blouse off her shoulders and slip it all the way off. Stripping her is like Christmas morning, opening my favorite kind of package.

  I separate from her long enough to watch how her beautiful, full tits bounce as I pull the bra off. “You’re fucking gorgeous.” I don’t give her time to respond before I’m back at her lips, teasing them open with my tongue. My hands skim from her waist, to her sides, and finally capturing her breasts. Rolling her nipples between my fingers, I make her groan into my mouth.

  The scent of her skin and arousal drives me crazy. I need to taste the rest of her.

  My lips explore her fine jawline with soft kisses. There’s a slight tinge of saltiness to her skin, intoxicating me. Making me want more.

  “Declan,” she moans in my ear. “We can’t do this. Not here. Not in the office.”

  “Oh, I think we can.”

  “We shouldn’t.”

  I can tell she’s conflicted, but I can also feel the race of her heart and the wet heat between her legs that’s begging me to keep going. Not once has she pushed me away. Instead, she arches into my hands, pressing her big tits deeper into my palms. This mix of nervous innocence and desperate lust only turns me on more, knowing that she’s letting me lead her out of her comfort zone.

  “Nothing’s going to happen,” I murmur while I kiss my way down the hollow of her throat. She leans her head back with a gasp, exposing herself to me like an animal submitting. I find it ridiculously sexy. “Nothing bad anyway.”

  She grinds her hips against me while my lips trace a soft path along her collarbone, but she doesn’t stop her damn objecting. “We could go back to your place.” She moans softly. “It’s not far, right?”

  The way she’s writhing against me, we’d be lucky to make it to the elevator. “Babe, if we go out there right now, everyone is going to take one look and know exactly what’s going on. You look like a woman who’s about to get fucked, and I’m not about to put a briefcase across my cock like I’m a fucking middle schooler with a boner.”

  Claire looks down and her eyes go wide. “But...” She licks her lips and her voice trails off, distracted. Watching her makes me want to see that mouth wrapped around me. “What if someone comes in? Like Carl, or your dad.”

  “Then we better make this fast.”

  I stand up, flick open my belt and tug my pants down far enough to release my throbbing cock. She eyes it with nervous hunger. In a second, she won’t have time to worry about anything but when I’ll let her up for air.

  With a quick reach, I wrap my fingers in her sexy red hair until I have a good grip, then pull her face right towards me. My cock is practically brushing against her lips. “Open.”

  She doesn’t hesitate, engulfing me with wet warmth. Gripping her hard enough that she hisses softly, I force her harder against me, pushing myself deeper into her mouth. Hot and wet, with a greedy little tongue. I’m in fucking heaven.

  I guide her with my fist in her hair while I flex my hips, fucking her. She moans around me, sending vibrations racing up my shaft. Jesus, if I don’t watch it, I’ll go off. I know I said fast, but that’s way too fucking soon.

  The strands of her silky hair slide softly through my fingers. I tighten my grip and pull her closer, only stopping when I catch in the back of her mouth. She coughs, but doesn’t try to pull away, still working her tongue along the underside. And I thought I couldn’t get any harder.

  “Jesus, you’re driving me crazy, babe.” The sight of her bobbing and the sway of her breasts might be the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. I’d almost convinced myself that our night together couldn’t have been as electric as I remembered. That if I had her again, I’d realize she was just another girl and get over whatever hold she has on me. Now I’m pretty sure I didn’t give her enough credit.

  She’s about to get fucked, but we might both end up screwed if this goes bad.

  My balls tighten. Shit. I yank her off by her hair. Her eyes pop open in surprise and she looks up at me questioningly, wondering what’s wrong. Nothing’s wrong. It’s too fucking perfect. Any more of that, and I’m done.

  “Stand up, babe. Over here.” Impatient, I half yank her to her feet.

  She whimpers, but it doesn’t sound like a protest to me, not with the way she’s licking her lips and looking at me with half-glazed eyes. Pushing her roughly over my desk, I position her with her head down and her ass up. She grunts, but then she grabs onto the far edge and looks back at me over her shoulder, a clear challenge in her eyes. I let my eyes trail down her smooth back until I reach her skirt.

  I can’t fucking wait. My hands are fucking shaking as I unzip her and tear it down over her hips. Something rips, but I’ll worry about it later. The skirt falls in a pool around her ankles when I let go and the only thing left covering her curvy ass is a pair of lacy panties. I tug them down to just above her knees before I plant my hands on her cheeks and pull her open, exposing her to me.

  “What are you—” I hear the shock in her voice, and that spurs me on.

  Leaning in, I stick my tongue right into her wet pussy, tasting her sweetness. She stops making words, whimpering and writhing against me as I eat her out. Spreading her legs as far as her panties will allow and arching her back.

  Her whimpers turn to moans, and her moans turn to gasps as she gets closer and closer to the edge. Shit, the whole office is going to hear her. I pull back, laughing at her soft whine of complaint. “Babe, we’ve got to shut you up if we’re gonna do this.”

  Maybe I was wrong earlier, because in one way I am like a boy scout.

  Always prepared.

  I grab a condom out of my wallet and pull it on. She starts to raise herself up to see what I’m doing, but I push her back down. “Nuh uh. We’re not done, babe.”

  Tugging her panties down the rest of the way, I ball them up in my hand. I get in position behind her, lodging just my tip inside. She moans deep in her throat and I can feel the tightness of her body trying to coax me deeper. Not yet.

  I lean over, placing a kiss on her shoulder blade before saying, “We’ve gotta do this quiet. Open up.”

  She turns her head to look at me, her eyes going wide when she sees what I have in my hand. For a second I think I’ve gone too far, but she opens for me. I push the soft fabric into her mouth, then cover it with my palm. She tries to say something, but it’s just a mumble.

  “Here we go.” I sink my cock all the way home in one deep stroke.

  We both groan—hers muffled—as I break one of my promises, coming back for more. Everything about our relationship is fucked up, except for the fucking. I don’t care. There’s no way I’m stopping now. Pulling out almost all the way, I slide back into her, my hips hitting her ass with a fleshy smack.

  I fuck her hard, rocking her against my desk. It’s solid, but it creaks with each violent thrust. Claire’s nostrils flare as she breathes harshly around my makeshift gag, and she grips the edge of my desk so hard her knuckles whiten. I slow down for a second to make sure she’s okay, and she snarls, slamming h
erself back against my cock.

  Fuck she’s perfect.

  Keeping the gag in place with one hand, I let my other roam over her curves, sliding underneath to squeeze her tits or grab her hips for leverage. The sound of her whimpering moans drives me wild, and the way she pushes back at me, meeting me thrust for thrust is so fucking sexy.

  Suddenly, she goes tight, her moans turning into a single low whine that borders on a growl. She stays perfectly still, quivering beneath me while I fuck her through her orgasm. Her slippery pussy squeezes me until I can’t take it and drive deep one last time with a groan. She’s still quivering in the aftershocks of her orgasm, and her inner muscles are milking me dry when I collapse over her, breathing heavily and my heart pounding like a fucking jackhammer.

  Fuck, I’ve never wanted to go without a condom so much in my life. I want to feel our wetness together, my slippery heat in hers. Making her mine. Only mine. Over and over again.

  My hand relaxes and she spits out her panties. “God, my mouth is dry.” She gasps it out, still catching her breath. “And you’re freaking heavy.”

  I laugh, and pull away reluctantly. I’m usually the one looking for the door before the sweat is dry, but for once I wish we had time to just be still together. Across my desk? Yeah, right. Tying off the condom, I toss it in my wastebasket. The cleaner can think what he wants.

  Claire looks suddenly lost. Even after what we just did, her arm crosses over her breasts as she tries to cover herself while searching for her clothes. The wildcat from a few minutes ago is gone. No, not gone. Just hiding until it’s safe to come out again.

  I help her pick up her things, giving her the illusion of privacy as she tries to clean up. She frowns at a little dangling hook on her skirt that I must have missed. “Shit.”

  “I’ll pay for that if you want.” Hell, I’ll buy her new clothes every day if it means I get to tear them off her.

  She shakes her head. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

  There’s something about how awkward things are now that I don’t like. One night stands are easy. You never have to stick around for the small talk or the feelings. I don’t know how to do this. Is this dating? I didn’t make any promises about a relationship.

 

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