A Will and a Way

by Maggie Wells

  Dropping into his rickety old chair, he stretched one leg out and yanked the end of his belt free from the loops. The buckle clinked. He let out a whoosh of breath as he opened the top button on his jeans. A hum of electricity buzzed in his blood. The rest of the buttons on his fly popped. He caught her sharp intake of breath and looked up. Again, that pink tongue darted out to wet her lips, but this time he knew their inviting wetness was a promise, not a tease.

  “You wanted to see me,” she trailed her fingertips along the neckline of her blouse before adding a husky, “Mr. Tarrant?”

  “Come in, Ms. Asher.” He nodded, then waved a hand toward the floor at his feet. “I want you to take some dictation.”

  * * * *

  Good gracious, the man was a woman’s wet dream. Did women have wet dreams? Yes, Betty decided, remembering how she’d awakened restless and aching the past few mornings. Will was an addiction, plain and simple. Like heroin.

  No, not heroin.

  Something bad, but not that bad. He was dangerous, yes, but not as dark as she thought at first glance. She wasn’t kidding about the soft spots. She saw them when he talked about Greg and Josie. Explored them with her mouth and hands each time they lay tangled in one another’s arms. Felt the tender sweetness that softened the edges of even his hungriest kisses.

  Her gaze fixed on those heavy-lidded pirate’s eyes, she carefully placed one foot in front of the other as she crossed the room, adding a little extra sway to her steps. She smiled when she caught the quick dip of his Adam’s apple. Gathering the fabric of her skirt, she raised the hem until it brushed over her knees, then sank down onto them.

  She slid her hands up the long, taut muscles of his thighs. His jeans gaped. His cock bulged and twitched beneath the thin fabric of his black boxer briefs, and his abs tensed when she hooked her fingers in the waistband.

  “Damn, you’re beautiful.” His voice was rough with desire.

  It rasped the aching need inside her and turned her fingers clumsy. She tugged at them, urging him to lift his hips.

  “Shall we begin…sir?” She chanced a glance from under her lashes and found his jaw locked and his fingers wrapped tight around the armrests.

  He planted his feet on either side of her and pressed up. “Yes.”

  Betty nudged the dangling belt buckle aside and pushed his jeans and briefs all the way down to the tops of his spattered and dusty work boots. She ran the pad of her thumb over the crown of his cock, collecting the precious drop of moisture that gathered there and smearing it over the taut flesh until it shone.

  “This,” she whispered. “The sweetest soft spot of all. So smooth. Like silk.” She leaned forward just enough to let her hair brush over him. Her mouth ran dry when his muscles bunched and the object of her desire twitched in her hand. She slid her hand down the length of him then squeezed, coaxing one of those deliciously guttural groans from deep inside him. “Like steel.” Her smile widened as he thrust into her grip. “Isn’t that what they say in the books?”

  “Do they?”

  “They do. And doesn’t feel much like an exaggeration at the moment.”

  “Don’t use the word exaggeration when you’re holding my dick in your hand.”

  “No need to,” she cooed. “You live up to your legend.”

  “Legend,” he growled, that scarred lip turning up in a sneer. “I prefer reality.”

  She licked her lips, eager for the taste of him on her tongue, but savoring the anticipation. She would take whatever he wanted to give, but she wanted to hear him ask for it first. “What can I do for you, Mr. Tarrant?”

  He released his death grip on the chair to run his hand over her hair, gently urging her down. “Your mouth.”

  Keeping her eyes locked on his face, she lowered her mouth to the head of his cock and placed a chaste little kiss there. “Like that?”

  He rolled his wrist, wrapping her hair around his fist and pulling just hard enough to force her head up again. “No, Ms. Asher. Not like that.”

  She stared at him, entranced by the stark desire etching deep lines around that beautiful mouth. “I’m afraid I may need more direction in order to perform my…duties to your satisfaction. Sir,” she added on a breathy exhale.

  “Suck me,” he enunciated through clenched teeth. “Take it in your hot little mouth and suck me hard.”

  A thrill of excitement coursed through her. Heat coiled tight in her belly. Moisture gathered between her thighs. She took him deep in one hard pull. Will’s hand convulsed in her hair, but he didn’t press. Nor did he thrust into her. His legs trembled beneath her hands, muscles quivering with harnessed power and hard-fought restraint. The velvet-smooth tip slid over her palate. The thick vein that ran the length of him pulsed against her tongue.

  “God, yes. Suck,” he panted. “Fuck, you have a gorgeous mouth. I love fucking it. I love coming in it.” His thighs tensed and he surged into her, thrusting wildly as his control unraveled. “I love—”

  He broke off on a ragged groan, leaving her to fill in the blank any way she chose. She chose to believe he loved her. At least there, in that moment. The telltale ripple of his climax set off tiny bursts of arousal inside her. She wanted to hoard them, gather them up until she found the release she needed as desperately as he did. She drew one hand from his leg and reached down to stroke herself, but he caught her and put it right back where it was, denying her the chance to take it for herself.

  Even if he couldn’t give her his heart, he’d give her what she needed. That she knew. And it would be enough. For now.

  Closing her eyes, Betty drew him deep and held him there, sucking hard. He pulled her hair as he pushed into her throat and let go with a roar he didn’t bother trying to contain. She swallowed convulsively, marveling at her own eagerness, lost in a haze of desire. In two decades of marriage, she hadn’t let Donald do this to her. She never willingly went down on her knees and took him over the edge. Didn’t trust him to take her there as well. Never reached the level of physical satisfaction she’d found even from the first time with Will.

  She owed him for that, but more she owed these little slices of pleasure to herself. Even if they cut her to shreds in the end. If she hadn’t come to this strange city, given up all she knew for a second chance, and ordered a second glass of wine in a dingy neighborhood bar, she’d have gone on believing that happiness was a soft, squishy thing. Without seeing Will and falling victim to his audaciously asymmetrical smirk, she’d never have learned that true bliss came with deliciously sharp edges.

  She ran her fingertips over numbed lips as she raised her head. His hands were so tangled in her hair her roots protested the movement. Will cradled the back of her skull in his palm and soothed away the hurt with tiny circular caresses. His entire body jerked when she ran her hand over his cock.

  He was softening, but slowly. Betty smiled. Experience had told her she could rouse him again if she wanted. It had been a happy discovery. One she’d taken advantage of. She believed whole-heartedly that they’d reached the stage in life where no erection should be wasted. But just the same, she liked having him like this. Spent. Wrung out. The rake undone and slumped in the chair, completely and utterly at her mercy.

  “Will that be all, Mr. Tarrant?” Her voice was hoarse with the residue of his satisfaction and the rough reality of her lack thereof.

  He gave his head a shake so subtle she would have missed it if she weren’t absorbed in memorizing every detail of him.

  “No?”

  He had to gulp twice before he could speak, which tickled her. She rewarded him for it by peppering his lax quads with kisses. The coarse curling hair tickled her chin. She rubbed her cheek against him like a cat marking her territory. Then she licked that vulnerable, hairless spot inside his thigh she’d mentioned earlier, and he began to stir again.

  “That’s not nearly all I want from you.”

  Chapter 16

  Betty’s heart tripped a
ll over itself as Will ran his fingers through her hair, smoothing the tangles he’d created.

  He used both hands to fan it over her shoulders and his pelvis. “The things I could have done to you when I was twenty,” he murmured. Then he laughed. A low, husky rumble filled with the kind of cocky self-assurance that should have put her off, but actually turned her on. “Hell, I still plan to do them. I just won’t be able to squeeze it all into one night.”

  “So sure of yourself.” She murmured the taunt against the base of his semi-aroused cock, then breathed deep. She took in the scent of soap and sex as she nuzzled him gently. “What?” she asked, not bothering to stir from her spot. “What would you have done?”

  He ran his hand down her back, his fingers wide. It was more possession than caress and it made her shiver. The tips of his fingers slipped under the waistband of her skirt then stopped.

  “Are you wearing panties?”

  She lifted her head, noting his sharp intake of breath as her hair trailed across his stirring cock. A pang of guilt turned her smile into more of a wince. “Yes.”

  His eyebrows shot up. For a man with a half-limp dick and his pants around his ankles, he still managed to look damn imperious. “I thought we’d talked about that.”

  “We talked about it last week when you were in the office every day. I’m not coming to work with Greg with no underpants on beneath my dress.” She rocked back to sit on her heels and pushed her hair out of her face. “Cripes, I already felt naked enough without any pantyhose.”

  “Even I know hardly any women wear pantyhose anymore. Didn’t you watch Sex and the City?”

  “I’m not even going to ask if you did,” she replied crisply. “You don’t want to know how many years it took me to be able to walk into church without wearing a slip.”

  His stern expression melted into a wicked smile, and he reached down to take her by the arms. “Don’t talk about church when you’re on your knees.”

  Betty grinned back at him, tickled to have tripped another one of his fallen-altar-boy triggers. “Oh, but I’ve spent a lot of time on my knees in church.”

  He growled, and she giggled, allowing him to help her to her feet. She started to smooth her skirt, but he batted her hands away.

  “You have ten seconds to take them off before I tear them off.”

  He didn’t have to warn her again. Frankly, she was so keyed up she might have torn them off herself. The skimpy nylon bikinis she’d chosen because they matched one of the shades of blue in her skirt looked really good on his office floor as well. Smirking at them, she hooked one leg hole with the toe of her shoe and sent them sailing toward the battered file cabinet.

  “Better?” she asked, inching back to lean against the desk.

  “Not quite.”

  She squeaked when he grasped her hips and gave her a quick spin. Her knees buckled and she collapsed onto his lap. The impact jarred a laugh from her. She stared at the blank computer screen in front of her. The crisp, curling hair on his legs scratched against the backs of her thighs. Will’s breath was hot on her neck. He swore under his breath as he teased the filmy fabric of her skirt out from between them. She caught the edge of the desk to steady herself, then gave a self-conscious chuckle when the hem popped free and she felt the firm length of his arousal against her bare bottom.

  “You know, the folks at the drug companies should study you. You truly have remarkable stamina.”

  “I’m feeling truly inspired,” he replied, making a passable attempt at mocking her drawl. He rolled the chair forward and planted his hands on either side of hers, trapping her between him and the desk. “I need you to place a call for me, Ms. Asher.”

  Her head swiveled. “What, now? Like this?”

  He pulled the phone closer and tapped the speaker button. The dial tone blared. “Call Mike down at EquipPro. I’ll need two compact loaders delivered to the Mainways site on Thursday.”

  “I, uh….” She wriggled on his lap, trying to get comfortable as she scrambled to get her bearings as well. “I don’t know their phone number. The rolodex is out there on my desk.”

  Will wound one arm around her waist, binding her to him as he jiggled the mouse to wake his ancient PC. “You can Google it.”

  Frowning as the tiny monitor sprang to life, she licked her parched lips. She summoned the last of her dignity and reached for the keyboard. “I know it’s older than Methuselah, and you think it doesn’t count if you don’t use it, but this computer is connected to the network. You really should power this thing down each night.”

  He gathered the front of her skirt and inched it up over her thighs. “Are you implying that I’m a security risk?”

  “Yes.”

  “Type in the damn name, Betty.”

  She did as she was told, carefully hunting and pecking at the keys because the feel of his work-roughened fingertips against the skin of her inner thighs seemed to have short-circuited her typing skills. When the search engine returned the results, she punched the button to turn off the blaring speaker and reached for the receiver.

  Will plucked it from her hand before it reached her ear. “Nuh-uh.” He placed the phone back on the cradle and activated the hands-free feature. Sitting up, he placed his lips next to her ear and whispered. “I wanna hear you.”

  A strangled whimper caught in her throat, but her hand floated toward the keypad. He had his hand up her blouse before she even managed to press the first three digits. His fingers closed around her nipple, and she released a full-fledged moan.

  “Shh.” He brushed her hair over one shoulder and his lips against the skin he’d bared. “You can’t let old Mike hear that, sweetheart. He has a heart condition.” He pinched the tight bud of her nipple hard enough to turn her moan to a yelp, and her fingers mashed down on multiple buttons. “Oops. I’ll kiss that later.”

  “Damn it all,” she said in an exasperated rush. She tried to turn her head to glare at him as she disconnected then reset the line. “That hurt.”

  “Sorry, I got a little carried away. You know I love talking equipment.”

  She snorted as she began to dial again, but he went on undeterred.

  “I’ll kiss it, lick it, and suck. Just to make it up to you.”

  “So self-sacrificing,” she muttered as the call went through with a jarring ring.

  Someone at the other end of the line barked, “What?”

  Her bred-in-bone gentility recoiled at the man’s abrupt greeting, but Will held her snug, flattening his palm over the nipple he’d so ruthlessly teased, trailing tender kisses along the slope of her shoulder. Taking a shaky breath, she forced a pleasantly neutral tone.

  “Hello, this is Betty from T-A-S Building and Design I’m calling to arrange some rental equipment for site delivery.”

  Will’s thumb and forefinger closed around her other nipple, rolling the pebbled flesh through the thin barrier of her bra.

  “Whaddaya need and when?”

  “Tell the man what you want,” Will whispered into her ear.

  His hot breath made her shiver, but when he dropped one hand down to rest between her bared thighs.

  She squeaked like a balloon losing air. “We, um, we need two compact loaders.”

  Her head fell back as Will trailed feather-light fingers over the damp folds of her pussy. Like the wanton hussy she was, she spread her legs wide. Not just inviting his touch, but practically begging for him to give it to her.

  “Two compact loaders,” Mike repeated, the words muffled as if he spoke around a cigar or cigarette. “Where?”

  “Uh….” She turned her face toward Will’s. “At the, um… Help,” she whispered.

  Will pinched her nipple and tugged hard. “Mainways,” he reminded her gruffly.

  “The Mainways project. On fifty-ninth,” she added, that tidbit of information popping out of some cloudy recess of her lust-addled mind.

  “Good girl,” Will crooned into her e
ar.

  He thrust his fingers deep inside her and fucked her with fast, furious strokes. She bucked and jerked. If Will’s arm wasn’t clamped around her waist she might have slid from his grasp entirely. As it was, she caught her balance just in time to catch old Mike’s next question.

  “When?”

  “Uh, Th-th-thursday,” she blurted. “Thursday.” The last came out in a pant, but she was beyond caring. “Got that?”

  “Got it,” the other man mumbled. There was a pause and a rustle, then he spoke more clearly. As if her duress had finally caught his full attention. “You okay there, honey?”

  “I’m just fine. Thank you.”

  Will curled his fingers and an unmistakable moan ripped from her chest. Panicked, she slammed her hand down on the phone and groped for the speaker button. When the line went dead, Will withdrew his fingers.

  “Why…What?” She swiveled as he yanked his hand from under her blouse. “Why are you stopping?”

  His eyes locked on her, he asked, “You want it?”

  He paused to lick her juices from one of his fingers, watching her all the while.

  She nodded eagerly, her lips parting as he sucked a second finger clean. “Yes. God, yes.”

  “Well, then. I’m going to be the guy to give it to you.”

  He nudged her to her feet, but before she could straighten, he planted his hand on her nape and pushed her down on the desk. Moaning her approval, Betty spread her legs wide the second she heard the rustle of a condom wrapper.

  Her mind went completely blank when he entered her. This time there was no gentle nudging or teasing strokes. Only his hard, hot cock buried deep inside her, his lean hips pressed against her ass, and the firm grip of his hand on her neck.