by Crowe, Liz
His anger suffused the room. He ended the call, sat back, arms crossed. She remained in the door, keeping her face neutral.
“So, you read this piece of shit, I assume.” He indicated the residential appraisal form that declared the value of the house he was selling. The same one he had stolen from her by sleeping with the woman who was selling it, she reminded herself. It stated a value of $220,000. Unfortunately, their contract stated a transfer price of $335,000 — quite the discrepancy.
“Didn’t you give the guy your comps?” Comparable sales figures determined the appraised value. Stewart’s training demanded that they meet the appraiser at their listing and provide comps themselves, to ward off any laziness on the part of the appraisal company.
“No, Sara, I assumed these guys were professionals and could get that info on their own,” His tight voice set her nerve endings on high alert. He leaned towards her, his amazing blue eyes bright. “Christ Almighty, he took the most useless sales nearby in spite of everything I gave him. Hell, I practically promised him three hookers and a hotel room.” His voice trailed off and he ran his fingers through his hair. She curled her hands into fists against the urge to do the same thing to him. “Fuck. Okay, let’s go through this thing and see if we can justify a do-over.”
As they worked side-by-side for two hours, Sara’s admiration grew as she watched him make calls and cajole honest info out of buyers’ agents about various comparable sales. He’d even called homeowners about houses they had purchased from other owners. These “FIZBO’s” or “For Sale By Owners,” by-passed realtors and would not normally be accepted by appraisers because there was no record of the actual condition of the house in question.
She compiled the data into a ten-page report they would need to provide the lender in order to justify a second appraisal. So absorbed by her task, she had actually forgot the man working alongside her had brought her to repeated, shuddering orgasm not too long ago. She flinched when he touched her shoulder.
“Okay, Jack, I think we have a case.” She pulled her hair up and kicked her shoes off under his desk. His extremely tidy and organized workspace gave her pause, and she acknowledged that they definitely did not have that in common. He reached out to touch the iPod in its docking station, filling the room with the sounds of The Foo Fighters.
Figures. He manages to remain hip even on his playlist.
Jack sighed deeply and stretched his arms over his head.
“I fucking hate all appraisers right now, you know?” He declared to the room. “I can’t wait until this market reverses itself and they’re back to begging us for whatever scraps of business we throw them.”
He rubbed his neck. Her skin prickled when he focused back on her. In a heartbeat, he’d grabbed the arms of the chair she was sitting in and rolled her over so that they faced each other. She forced herself to remain calm. But damn if having him so near wasn’t rattling every nerve ending she possessed.
“Sorry I went off, baby.” He turned her chair around quickly before she could react, so that they sat like passengers on a bus. He rubbed her shoulders as her brain started its usual “resist Jack” mantra. She hated the game he had played with her this morning, hated his easy use of the word “baby” around her, and absolutely despised how much she wanted to hear it again.
She had to get this thing under control.
But maybe you shouldn’t? Maybe he should have control. New Sara crooned in her ear as her body relaxed under Jack’s hands. You read it yourself. Giving over control to another is the first step. Trusting him to take care of you.
She sighed. That was one thing she could never do. Not in a million years. She barely trusted her own brother and only because she’d had nearly thirty years to learn how to do so.
He leaned in closer to her, his breath on her neck, near her ear. She immediately wished there was no fabric barrier between her skin and his hands.
“You made this easier, no doubt. I think we can make it work.” She knew he meant the appraisal but her chest constricted at the thought of making “this” work with him.
“Put those shoes back on.” His low, firm voice made something in her give way. “I have been a walking hard on all day after seeing you this morning.”
Sara’s breath caught in her throat and her nipples contracted as she slipped her feet back into the expensive high leather heels. She tried not to think about the realtors still roaming around the office even though it was almost seven, when most managers and secretaries took off, locking up and leaving the offices available for whatever the workaholic salespeople might cook up.
“Now stand up.” His breath heated her skin. She did, and his hands trailed down her body, coming to rest on her hips as he turned her around to face him.
The music segued into some vintage Who, bringing a smile to her face. Of course, the controlling asshole would match her musical tastes. She sighed and looked up at the ceiling, fighting her need for him and her need for distance from him. Gazing at his ruggedly handsome face Sara took a breath as the words “either the best, or the worst thing,” flashed across her vision. Her entire body yearned for his. Her desire for his hands on her made her throat close up in panic. They were such a perfect fit on so many levels. But he wasn’t here for her. He was here for himself.
He stood, holding her gaze, their bodies grazing, no words between them. Her resolve slipped, but she grabbed it, dragged it back kicking and screaming. Running a finger down his cheek, she relished his rough skin, memories of how perfect his lips felt on hers making her want to fall over. “I should go.” The sight of his wicked smile nearly made her come on the spot.
“No,” he ran a hand up one arm. “You shouldn’t.” In the blink of an eye, she found herself pressed against the hard planes of his body.
She shut her eyes against the power of him and his amazing control over her better self. She stood in the circle of his arms, easing back into his dangerous orbit. With a shuddering breath, she looked into his eyes.
“Yes, I should,” she shrugged him off and had one foot out in the hallway before he grabbed her arm and yanked her back, slamming the door behind her. His lips shut out her protests, and she melted, hating herself, but allowing newly familiar pleasure light the corners of her brain.
Thanks to the heels, she didn’t have to stand on tiptoe to reach his lips as his kiss enveloped her, tugging her down a deep hole of desire. A whirlwind of emotion threatened to bowl her under, bringing her dangerously close to tears.
“Sara,” he whispered into her ear. “You are…” he stopped and she stepped away. He took a deep breath. She held hers. His gaze kindled a spark that caught and centered in her core. “Don’t leave,” he leaned in and kissed her again, his usual urgency absent, the gentle nature of his caresses throwing her off. He broke away, cradling her face with his hands.
She willed him to say more, as Rob’s advice about Jack’s potential ran through her head again. Intensely erotic memories of his voice, his hands, his lips on her as she let him take control, raced through her rattled head. She laced her fingers at the small of his back and tilted her head, waiting for him finish. Willing him to take control, in spite of herself.
He leaned in to lick the spot between her collarbones.
“I can’t give you much right now, Sara,” he said against her skin. “But I promise you it won’t be boring.”
Sara ran her hands up his back, fisted her hands in his coarse black hair and kissed him, kissed him until she saw stars. He moaned into her lips, nearly bringing her to her knees. Rallying everything she had to resist, knowing she deserved more than one more casual fuck from this man, she gripped his upper arms, the crisp cotton of his shirt giving way under her hands.
“I’m sure you won’t bore me Jack,” she held him at arm’s length. “That’s not the problem.” He stepped away from her, hands on his hips. Sara fought the strange urge to drop to her knees.
“Okay,” he ran a hand down his face. “You win.”
/> “I’m not trying to win,” she moved another step further away, trying to rally anger or something to resist him. “I’m trying to retain something resembling my sanity.”
Jack smiled at her, once again nearly melting what small bit of resolve she had. She stood up straighter. He stepped in closer, cupping her chin in his hand.
“I’m just as afraid of losing mine,” he declared, making her skin flush. His lips hovered just out of her reach. “But I’m willing to risk it.”
Fully realizing she could be getting the “worst thing” just as easily as the “best thing,” Sara succumbed. Jack’s lips, tongue, hands, body, she wanted them all, right there, and desire blinded every logical synapse she possessed.
“That’s my Sara,” she startled at his possessive words. “I know what you need. Let me show you.” She nodded as his lips and teeth found her neck, sucked, bit down and made her yelp and moisture flood her panties. The deep growl of his voice, the way he gripped her, it made her weak and shaky, all reactions new to her in the arms of any man.
He reached back and grabbed the beautiful tie he’d been wearing that morning. He raised an eyebrow and without a second thought, she held out her wrists for him. “No, turn around first.” She trembled as she turned but he held her steady, pulling both arms behind her.
The soft touch of silkiness grazed her flesh. Jack swaddled her skin in the luxurious fabric, then put his hands on her shoulders and pressed her to the floor. He remained behind her, out of her line of vision. Sara tensed, fighting her body’s need.
“This is really why you wanted me here, right Jack? I mean, we could’ve done this over the phone.” Tension she’d held since the awkward morning meeting he’d invaded ebbed away in spite of her submissive position on her knees. She took a breath, let go, and let the touch of his capable hands on her shoulders relax her. The music changed again and Sara heard laughter in the hall, but somehow, she didn’t care.
“You like this as much as I do. I can tell. Sort of scary really,” he stood in front of her now. She licked her lips at the sight of his bulging zipper. He put a hand on it, making her squirm and her thighs clench. He was suddenly eye level with her, his gaze hard. “I haven’t done… this… in a while.” He swallowed hard. “But I think it’s something I need. And I promise you won’t be disappointed.” His hand cupped the back of her neck and drew her in. His lips and tongue were fierce, rough and possessive. Sara moaned and leaned into him. She gasped when he broke away.
“Please, Jack. I want you to. I’m,” He cut her off by bringing her to her feet then pressing her into the chair. He grinned as he pulled her shaking knees apart. The hand he pressed against her mound nearly burned, bringing a moan to her lips.
“Yes, I know. That’s the thing. I know exactly what you want me to do.” He slid her skirt up slowly, hooked a finger in her panties and with a jerk, had them ripped in two. “Don’t ever wear these again.” She nodded and leaned back as his lips settled around her clit, tugging it into his mouth, and tried very hard not to scream.
“Ask me.” His voice was low. She shuddered. “Ask me if you can come.”
The room faded. There was only her and the man between her knees. No anger, no stress, no residual discomfort. Only him.
“May I…oh God,” She gripped her hands together, still bound in the tie, as he teased her with his tongue. “Please, may I come? Jack?”
“Yes. You may.” He pressed fingers high inside and sucked her clit back between his lips. The orgasm ripped through her, tearing her in two as effectively as the discarded silk on the floor.
Jack smiled against Sara’s skin, ran his tongue down her pussy lips, dipped into her pulsing center and reveled in the smell and sight of her pink, silky perfection. The sound of her trying not to yell made his cock swell harder. He had forgotten how much he loved this.
He’d always excelled at taking charge, whether at work, on the golf course, a building site, anywhere. People looked to him to do it. He’d been captain of three varsity sports teams in high school and president of his fraternity for two years in college. It seemed natural to fall into a roll of formal Master with his sex partners. But something about it had a dark hard edge that he avoided. It brought something out in him he didn’t think he liked. After going full bore with Jenna for so long only to have her jump into a three way with his roommates without his permission, without even telling him — he’d doubted himself ever since.
He nuzzled Sara’s pussy once more, his brain buzzing with energy, knowing he’d made a connection with her that wouldn’t be denied. But, did he want it? He stood, watching her, one hand on his straining zipper, the other wiping his lips. Her amazing green eyes sparkled, as the post orgasm look he loved stole over her face.
The room darkened. “Stand up.” She rose to her feet. “My turn.” He pressed her to her knees again, groaning at the sight of her shoes, her face. Dear God, everything about the woman flipped every erotic switch he possessed, including the one he thought he’d taped over with an “out of order” sign. The one labeled: Master. The whole scene made him feel powerful, content, and potentially dangerous. He unzipped and released his already weeping cock to her lips.
She ran her tongue around the edges, slipped it into the slit pearled with his fluid. Thighs trembling he fisted his hands in her silky hair. “All the way down Sara. I need you to.” She looked up and locked eyes with him before slipping her beautiful mouth over him.
He sucked in a breath, felt his head hit the back of her throat as she relaxed and swallowed him. He eased out, then back in, his brain shutting down and his body taking over. He could handle this. He…
“Oh fuck,” he shoved his hips forward, braced one hand on the wall and let go. Let himself fall. “Swallow it Sara. I’m gonna come.” His voice whispered, but the rush of orgasm roared in his ears, blinding his vision. He’d forgotten how intense he climaxed when in this mode. “Oh dear God…” He grunted, thrust down her throat once more and released as the room narrowed, went black, then cleared.
Sara had never been a huge fan of giving head. Didn’t even think she did it that well. But when Jack had released his thick cock in front of her eyes, no force on the planet could have kept her from it. She wanted it in her mouth, down her throat, so badly she could barely see.
He tasted salty, musky, and delicious. The sensation of his hands in her hair, the way his hips angled up and his legs spread to keep steady made her pussy twitch. Her clit swelled, pulsed and her already wet thighs slickened further as she swallowed him.
Her man. She was pleasing her man and the concept of that when he grunted and exploded down her throat made her pussy spasm and release, as she groaned around his girth. He kept thrusting, tugged at her hair bringing that edge of pain to her pleasure, as his fluid dripped down her chin. When he stilled he immediately reached down to pull her up and into his arms, releasing her wrists so she could wind her body around him.
Dear God you have it bad. And for Jack Gordon no less.
Jack’s kisses had an economy of energy about them — he didn’t waste time trying to pull her entire mouth into his. He licked her lips, as his breathing evened out. He waited for her to want more and, when she grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him closer, he sighed and wrapped his hands up in her hair. He broke away and moved his lips down her neck, nuzzling and biting into her flesh. He stroked her legs, moving closer up under her skirt to her ass. When he cupped her there, caressing and squeezing, he returned his mouth’s attention to hers.
Oh my God, his lips. Desire intoxicated her when she realized this was the longest time they’d spent on a kiss in all of their encounters. Forcing all logic deep down under a need that kept roaring in her ears, Sara sighed
“You do something to me Sara.” His voice was low, raspy. “I don’t get it. I don’t even know if I like it. But I can’t get enough of it.”
She felt so alive, so incredibly sexy in these shoes, in the arms of this man desired by
so many. His words only reinforced it.
“My God, I think I could fuck you in those shoes all night.”
Sara stepped out of his arms, smoothed her skirt down, using some tissue in a box on his desk to clean up. She faced him, not sure what to say. Her heart raced, her mind spun.
Why couldn’t they keep their hands off each other anyway? He was so irresistible. But so wrong.
He sat, seemingly dazed and grinned up at her, tie draped back around his neck. Glancing at the clock Sara realized it was nearly eight o’clock and the office should have emptied out. What now? Should they eat together? Snuggle on a couch? Watch a movie? Or part ways and meet up again next time he was horny?
New Sara was sated, but something else tugged at her subconscious. A need to flee his presence, but at the same time wanting to crawl up into his lap and be petted like a housecat. The two impulses warred, making her dizzy and angry. She had a moment of pure panic, but Jack sat back in his chair, and tugged her into his lap, kissed her neck and held her close.
“Relax baby,” he muttered into her ear. “Like I said — I can promise fun. No need to get worked up.” he grinned at her and Sara’s inner alarm clanged. “So, is it a Mexican food night again?”
She arranged her face into a frown, coming up with excuses to escape.
“I suppose, but I’m going to yoga at six tomorrow so I wanted to be home early.”
“Yeah, you like the sweaty hour and a half of torture?” he ran a finger down her cheek, jaw, neck.
“No, but I can already see the benefits, so I’m gonna keep going.” She moved away from him, sat down in his other chair.
She needed something from him she knew damn good and well he’d never give her. He could play at controlling, dominating, being the master of her body but the Jack Gordon that she knew did not make emotional connections with women, only physical ones. She realized she should get far away from there before she sunk any deeper. All her own brave talk about merely wanting the base connection with him she’d thrown at her brother was lost in a haze of desire for something more — something she swore she’d never, ever expect from a man.
