by Maggie Wells
Will blinked a couple of times then gave his head a shake, a wry smile lifting the corner of his mouth. “Pantyhose.”
Betty glanced down at the opaque panel of her super-sucker, body slimming hosiery. She wanted to tell him to yank them off. She moaned as she envisioned him stripping away the lycra-enforced barrier and plunging his big, hard cock into her over and over again.
“Didn’t have those the other night,” he said with a shrug. His fingers flexed and his smile kicked up a notch. “I can work around them.”
The edge of one fingernail snagged on the smooth nylon as he pulled her skirt down past her knees. That tiny hiccup, combined with the thought of him peeling her like a grape, was enough to spur her into action. “I’ve got ’em.”
Not giving him a second to protest, she hooked her thumbs into the waistband of the tights and rolled them down over her hips. Cool air rushed over damp skin. Will stopped her when she reached her thighs and worked the stockings down her legs. The tangle of skirt, hose, and shoes hit the floor, but all Betty could hear were Will’s shallow pants.
“Jesus.” He never uttered a word about her lack of panties or the red marks the slimmers embedded in her skin. Instead, he fell to his knees in front of the desk like he was worshipping her for it. Hot palms pressed her inner thighs. Blunt fingertips bit into her skin as he spread her wider still, opening her to his hungry gaze. “Thank you, Jesus.”
Rather than squirm under his scrutiny, she opted to state the obvious. “No panties.”
Will nuzzled the flattened curls covering her mound. “Thank you, Betty.”
The gratitude and reverence in his tone prized a laugh from her. She didn’t have the heart to remind him that she hadn’t known they would see each other when she dressed for the day. Betty ran one hand over his hair before planting her palm on the desk behind her and surrendering to the tease of his warm breath against her thigh. “You’re welcome.”
He didn’t preface his assault. Without another word, Will cut a wide, greedy path through her slick folds, jolting her from her smug repose and sending her sailing with that single swipe. She gasped his name and raised her hips. The piece of paper trapped under her palm slid across the desk. She scrambled for purchase as he circled her clit, then crumpled the hapless sheet when he thrust into her. Strong hands gripped her hips. He held her up off the desk, feasting on her with maddening licks, sips, nips, and swirls. His velvet-soft tongue drew her sensitive bundle of nerves deep into his mouth. He sucked her, consuming every bit of arousal he’d stirred and demanding more.
Betty stared blindly at the door. In her mind, an unsuspecting delivery driver stood immobile in the reception area, listening to her moans and Will’s approving groans. His jaw would be slack, his feet planted wide, his cock thick and bulging in his uniform pants. Noodle arms gave out. She slid down onto the desk, laying herself wide open to Will. Opening herself to fantasies she’d never dreamed might turn to reality. And soon she was lost to them.
Will continued his single-minded quest to conquer her pussy, but in her little scenario he had help. The finger thrusting into her dripping cunt belonged to the FedEx guy. UPS used his lips, teeth, and tongue to tease her nipples. On the desk, she squirmed and danced, desperate to escape the onslaught of sensation, but more than willing to give him everything he wanted if it meant she’d get some relief.
He groaned her name, his rich baritone vibrating through her with an intensity no double-A battery could ever replicate. She cried out in protest and closed her legs, boxing his ears with her thighs as punishment when he dared to slip that long finger from her clenching pussy. She opened her mouth to protest but nearly wept when that same slick digit pressed against the tight opening of her ass.
Her limbs curled, hoarding the energy humming through her like a diver tucked into a roll. Then, she sank her hand into Will’s hair, holding him right there as she extended. FedEx and UPS faded away. Every cell in her body reached for the completion only the man trapped between her thighs could give her. And deliver, he did.
Her thighs quaked with the dregs of her release. Betty mapped wild patterns in the acoustic ceiling tiles as she chased her breath. The muscles in her stomach went lax, but she didn’t regret the loss of those punishing tights one damn bit. She let her legs fall open as she floated back to Earth, but Will didn’t embrace his freedom. Instead, he nestled in, pressing soft, damp kisses to the insides of her thighs, stirring the untamed hair covering her pussy and nuzzling the damp curls as if he hadn’t had enough. It took only two more lingering kisses and his soft sigh to make her realize she hadn’t quite reached her quota either.
“Come here.”
He pressed his lips to the top of her leg and gave his head a shake. She ran her hands over his shoulders, but he moved just out of reach.
She blinked away a rush of confusion. “I want you. Now.”
Will closed his eyes and swallowed hard, his face a mask of regret. “No condoms.”
His voice was little more than a gratifying croak.
She couldn’t help but smile a little as she fell back on the desk. “Oh.”
* * * *
There’s nothing like that single syllable spoken by a disappointed woman to make a guy feel like a complete and total failure. Will focused his attention anywhere but on the half-naked woman perched atop the Teleco corporate headquarters proposal he pitched last week. “I don’t know why I didn’t load up this morning. I mean, I should be packing on the off chance that the woman who ditched me in a bar a couple days ago shows up at the office I’m never in, right?”
She called his name, a cajoling laugh turning it into a caress. As if she had no clue she had him wrapped up in knots. Again. And all he wanted to do was fall face-first into her. Again and again and again.
Wetting his lips, he looked up at her. “Trust me, there’s nothing I want more than to finish this off right here, right now.”
“My first order of business as your assistant will be to order a gross of them. You’re springing for overnight delivery, too.” She added the last with a sassy little smirk that completely unraveled him.
Will growled and buried his face in her lap. It was easy for her to be all laughing and playful. She got hers. For the second time. All he got was a massive case of blue balls. Still, he loved hearing her laugh, and her fingers in his hair felt too good. The musk of her arousal filled his nostrils. But he’d never get enough of the taste of her. Enough of her flying to pieces like she had just a few minutes ago. Unable to resist, he blew on the downy curls covering her pussy. Like magic, her legs fell open a few centimeters before her brain caught up.
“Ha!”
Betty wriggled and tried to clamp her legs shut, but it was no use. He’d conquered this territory, and he’d be damned if he gave it up without a fight. He pressed his face to that soft, fragrant tangle and inhaled deeply.
“Will! Stop,” she laughed. “Okay, we’re even. You don’t have condoms, and I need a bikini wax.”
“I think you’re perfect.” He trailed coaxing kisses along the crease of her thigh.
She moaned, and he took full advantage. Each firm swipe of his tongue was geared to stoke the fire inside her. Curling his finger deep in her tight pussy, he drove her up again. His eyes locked on her face, he gauged her every breath, cataloged each moan, and committed every whimper to memory. When he felt her muscles tense and coil, another climax poised to unfurl, he pulled back and rolled to his feet. On the desk, Betty gasped and writhed. Her nostrils flared. Her lush, ripe mouth worked in wordless protest. Before the sparks of anger in her dark eyes could take hold, he grabbed her hand and pulled it between her legs.
“Finish,” he ordered, reaching for the waistband of his pants.
Two graceful fingers trailed through those damp curls then plunged into her slick, hot channel, her heavy-lidded gaze fixed on him. “Like this?”
“Just like that.”
His belt buckle clinked as h
e pulled the leather free of its grasp. A hook, a button, and one lousy zipper. Opening his pants should have been easy work, but it was hard to keep his hands from shaking when prim, proper, oh-so-Southern Betty Asher was finger-fucking herself like a goddamn porn star right in front of him.
Will pushed his hand into his boxer briefs and yanked his dick free. He’d barely had a chance to wrap his hand around the base when she let her head fall back. Her mouth was wet and swollen from their kisses, her lips pink and shiny. A low, guttural groan rose from deep inside of her. He fisted the head of his cock and began to pump, desperate to catch up.
She stretched her neck and arched her back. Blond hair cascaded over her shoulders. The tight buds of her nipples strained the confines of her bra. Her pink lips parted and the groan morphed into a long, purring wet dream of moan. He felt the reverberation of it down deep in his balls. Cupping his heavy sac, he fucked his fist, hips jerking with each merciless rasp of his palm. She whispered his name in that soft, feminine drawl, and the last thread of his self-control snapped.
Release caught him like a riptide and pulled him into its depths. “You’re all I’ve thought about since I met you. Every day.” Hot, thick streaks of cum striped her quivering belly and lashed her satin-covered breasts. “All I wanna do is get inside you. Crawl inside you and fuck you so hard and so deep I never come out again,” he panted, lost in the sight of her covered in his release. “Gonna fuck you over and over again. Here. Everywhere.”
He bared his teeth, his eyes rolling back as the last, almost-painful throes pulsed through him. Falling forward, he braced one hand on the desk and hung his head, the dregs of his climax spilling over his knuckles. “Over and over again.”
His whispered declaration faded into the hiss of their labored breathing. He held himself as still as he possibly could, loath to give up the space he’d claimed between her soft thighs, but wary of what he might find when he opened his eyes. Betty pulled her hand out from between their damp, sweaty bodies. The faint rustle of papers told him she’d found purchase in her change of position.
“Sorry.” The apology popped out of him. It was automatic. Like blinking. But he didn’t mean it. Not one bit.
As if reading his mind, she chuckled softly. “Are you?”
Inhaling deeply, he raised his head and met her eyes. “No. Not at all.”
Her smile came slow, but like the first light of day, it brightened everything around them. “Me, either. I can’t remember the last time I was ever so not sorry about anything.”
The convoluted reasoning drew a laugh from him. “The sad part is, I understood that.”
Cocking her head, she gave him a narrow stare. “Do you also understand that you still owe me dinner?”
“Absolutely. I’ll feed you three meals a day if that’s what I get for dessert.”
“One doesn’t have dessert with breakfast.”
He laughed, tickled by her prissy tone. “One does when one is with me. Stick with me, babe, I’ll keep you satisfied in every way.”
He sealed the deal by capturing her mouth once more. He meant the kiss to be hard and fast, but in the space of a heartbeat he was falling into her slow and deep. Mustering what had to be superhuman strength, he broke the kiss but only made it as far as resting his forehead against hers.
“Jesus. We have to stop that or we’ll never get a damn thing done around here.”
“Does that mean I have to cross ‘Kiss the boss’ off the top of my to-do list?”
Cradling her cheek in his palm, he stroked her soft skin with his thumb. “Oh, hell no. I want to be at the top of your to-do list.” He pulled back just enough for her to swim into focus. Fate brought her to his door that day. He wasn’t about to let her slip away again. At least not without a chase. “As a matter of fact, I’m writing that into your job description, Ms. Asher. Effective immediately.”
Chapter 8
Betty threw her head back and laughed at the story Will told about Sister Laurent’s creative forms of punishment. She had no idea that her delight translated into pure agony for him. The slender column of her throat made him ache to bite it. The sexy rasp in her voice shot straight to his groin. Shiny blond hair brushed her shoulders and shimmered in the dim lighting. Later, he would part that silky curtain and press his mouth to her nape.
She’d changed into a dress for their dinner date. One of those deceptively plain-looking ones with no sleeves and a neckline a nun would approve. But the damn thing hugged every curve. And the fabric shifted and shimmered in the soft light of the restaurant, making her skin luminescent. A faint blush rode high in her cheeks. Pink lips slick with gloss stretched taut over white teeth. The smile she wore and knowing glimmer in her eyes told him she suspected he was thinking about having those lips wrapped snug around his dick.
Will shifted in his seat for the thousandth time in thirty minutes. Every move she made drove him wild. The agonizing build-up began about two minutes after she buttoned her blouse that afternoon. It started with the way she leaned over his desk to straighten the papers they’d debauched. She hummed a pop song totally off key while she dusted the parts of his desk they hadn’t wiped clean in their frenzy. By the time they left the office, she’d replaced her scattered hairpins with a pair of number two pencils thrust through the neat coil of her hair.
The admiring glances she garnered from the maître d and the jerk at the table behind her had Will on edge, but he couldn’t make himself stop. Like a masochist, he dredged his memories for anything she might find remotely amusing. He told her about the time he’d been caught trying to sneak a peek under Kathleen Kirschner’s skirt, and Betty rewarded him with that throaty chortle.
It had been like this since the moment they sat down. She was incredibly beautiful, and he was a man possessed—desperate for another gut-punch of a smile and antsy for another hit of her laugh.
The woman was a walking, talking aphrodisiac, but while she was confident and poised, she didn’t seem to notice that she’d captured the attention of nearly every man in the room. Will was willing to bet there wasn’t a guy in a fifty-foot radius who wasn’t sporting wood. If she didn’t stop laughing, the whole evening might devolve into a circle jerk before their entrées even arrived. Not that he cared about food. All he wanted was to toss her onto the table and devour her. And, despite the way he’d toyed with her little fantasy about having an audience, he wasn’t particularly in the mood to share.
She ran the tip of one oval fingernail around the rim of her wine glass. The silver earrings dangling from her ears swayed enticingly. Every tiny movement set them in motion, drawing his attention back to the creamy skin of her neck and derailing his train of thought again.
“Wow. That was some scowl,” she commented, lifting her wine glass. “All these years and you’re still pissed about the detention?”
Jolted from his thoughts, Will frowned. “Detention?” Before she could answer, the pieces of their previous conversation snapped into place. He shook his head in adamant denial. “No! No. I was just…I was thinking about something else for a second.”
“Oh. Okay.”
She held his gaze as she took a sip of what he assumed was a very good burgundy. He wouldn’t know. He hadn’t been able to taste anything but the lingering memory of Betty on his tongue. Their gazes met, and once again that bright flash of awareness caught him off guard. She ran the flat of her tongue over her bottom lip. He searched his brain for hints of intelligent conversation, but the only word he found came out sounding suspiciously like, “Guh.”
Graceful fingers curved around the bowl of the glass. She fell back in her seat and cradled her drink close to her bosom. Then she hit him right between the eyes with an unerringly direct question. “Still want me?”
Like that nasty mess of a spreadsheet she fixed without missing a beat, she unraveled his self-control with one simple question. Idly he wondered if she could get him off with less than a half-dozen mouse clicks, too. Wh
ile his brain was engaged elsewhere, his lips offered up the unvarnished truth. “So bad it hurts.”
Her smile turned coy. “You’re the one who insisted on dinner first.”
“I’m trying to be a gentleman.”
She hid the widening of that grin in the bowl of the wine glass. “Funny, I never imagined you were one.”
“Usually I’m not,” he admitted with a frown.
“Well, I think we proved earlier that you don’t have to be with me.”
“But I want to be one with you.” The admission popped out of him so quick he needed a moment to absorb the realization that it was true. “I’m not sure why, but I do.”
“As much as I’m enjoying the wine, I kind of wish you wouldn’t.”
Betty set the glass aside and kicked his libido into overdrive by leaning in closer. The neckline of her dress only hinted at the beautiful breasts it kept under wraps, but the hint was enough to fuel his memory. Smooth and white, tipped with large pinkish-brown nipples that hardened into bullets at the barest touch.
“Will?”
“Hm?” A second ticked past before he jerked himself from his reverie. “Sorry.”
A gleam of pure feminine satisfaction lit her eyes. “Are you paying attention?”
“Yes.”
“What if I told you I don’t need to be wined and dined?”
He sat up straighter. “I, uh….” He blinked, his impulse to call for the check warring with some weird need to keep his butt planted in that seat. “You don’t want dinner?”
Betty waved his concern away with a flick of her wrist. “I appreciate your attempt to be honorable.”
Tension coiled between his shoulder blades when that sly, sexy smile stretched her delectable mouth again.
“I’m only trying to help move us along to what I’m hoping will be a mutually satisfying conclusion.”
Not willing to concede the higher ground, he pinned her with a stare. “By skipping meals?”
“You seem to be intent on feeding me. First lunch, now this.” She folded her hands neatly in her lap. “I couldn’t care less about food. I want you to take me to bed.”
