by RG Alexander
With Dean, there didn’t seem to be a limit.
It would be dangerous in the long term—it was dangerous now. The chemistry between them was intense. So strong it couldn’t be questioned or denied, and he never gave her time to doubt it. He found a way every day to show her how well their bodies fit together. How it only got better, wilder, more dangerous every time.
She’d expected the sex to be good, but she’d never expected his generosity, or how much she’d enjoy making him laugh and having him around. The minutes or hours between their sexual feeding frenzies, when they’d lie in bed—hers or the king-sized playground he had in his townhouse—and talk about movies and life and whatever came to mind.
It couldn’t last. There were only a few more weeks to fulfill every whim and fantasy she’d ever had before this vacation from reality was over. That was the limit. The rule she couldn’t break unless she wanted to prove him right about things being too good to be true.
Unless she wanted to get hurt.
Mrs. Grandholm was standing by her desk shoving things into her purse when the elevator doors opened and Sara stepped out. The older woman studied her over her glasses. “Good afternoon, Ms. Charles. Mr. Warren is expecting you.”
Sara smiled politely, pushing a curl that had escaped from her braid behind her ear. “Going to lunch, Mrs. Grandholm?”
The woman’s lips twitched. “Apparently I am. Mr. Warren sent his assistant off on a wild goose chase to discover the whereabouts of his vehicle, and my daughter just phoned me from the lobby to inform me she was taking me to lunch at my favorite restaurant on his tab. Apparently he thinks I need to relax before the annual parade of ridicule begins.”
The review for the board. Nobody seemed to enjoy it, but from what she understood, it was the way things had always been done. She felt a twinge of guilt at the dread on the secretary’s face. “I know I don’t work here anymore, but if you want to get the accounting over with as swiftly and efficiently as possible, you’ll want Handler or Bends up here with you. They’re quick studies and the best you’ve got in that department.”
She was talking to the dragon lady about work wearing nothing underneath her jacket after fondling herself in the elevator. She sighed. But it was her fault since she didn’t seem to be able to mind her own business.
“Your supervisor says you were the best. He’s rather desperate to get you back, you know.” Mrs. Grandholm adjusted her purse on her shoulder and smiled. “He wanted permission to pull you in for the review, with an offer to pay you double what you were making before.”
“He did?” Sara laughed politely, feeling moderately vindicated that he’d finally realized her worth and rude for wishing the secretary would speed things up. “He can’t be too serious about it since he hasn’t called me.”
“No, I don’t imagine he has.” The secretary hesitated then shook her head. “But for what it’s worth, that mad woman is gone and I believe you could get your job back if that’s what you wanted.” She stepped into the elevator. “I shouldn’t keep my daughter waiting. Have a good afternoon, Ms. Charles.”
She could come back. The way Mrs. Grandholm told it, she would be given a raise to boot. A small part of her was flattered, but even that part knew what it would be giving up in return. Her sexy vacation with Bossy McHotpants.
The twenty-third floor wasn’t remotely tempting in comparison. Sara shook her head and turned toward Dean’s office.
She had a fantasy to fulfill.
Her heart rate started to speed up when she turned the doorknob and opened the door. This office was just as impressive as she remembered. Behind the formidable-looking desk, there was another wall of windows like the ones in the penthouse. On the other side of the room, chairs and a couch surrounded a gas fireplace that was framed by enchantingly crowded bookshelves. This room was nearly as big as her apartment.
Dean was at his desk, his chair turned toward the window as he spoke in a low, threatening voice into his cell phone. “Don’t test my patience. You’ll get all the information you need when—”
She closed the door harder than she’d meant to, causing him to spin around in his chair.
“I’m done talking about this.” He turned off his phone and stood, shaking his head. “Sara, I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you come in. Lunch hasn’t arrived yet.”
Sara bit her lip. “Is this a bad time?”
“For you? Never. I shouldn’t have answered the phone.” He sent her a charming, if puzzled smile when he noticed her coat. “Did I miss the rainstorm?”
Maybe this was a bad idea.
Or the perfect one, her inner devil/nympho whispered. Look how tense he is. Think of how much better he’ll feel afterwards.
She was already dressed for it, she thought, slowly untying the belt of her trench coat. “You aren’t missing anything,” she assured him, undoing the buttons before shrugging off the jacket and letting it drop at her feet. “I, however, couldn’t find anything to wear for lunch.”
Dean’s knees seemed to give out as he sat down abruptly in his chair. “Fuck me, Sara…”
She cupped her breasts playfully and slipped out of her heels before walking toward his desk. “I’m game if you are, but that wasn’t your fantasy. Under your desk in nothing but white lace panties, door closed but unlocked. Am I remembering correctly, Mr. Warren, sir?”
His cheeks were flushed, the muscle in his jaw twitching. “You are. I wasn’t expecting you to— Oh baby you have no idea what you’re doing to me right now. What you’re starting.”
She’d pushed back his chair while he was talking, just enough to drop to her knees in front of him. Her hand slid up his thigh and caressed the hard length of his erection through the fabric. “I think I might, sir.”
Dean’s hand went to her braid, gently dragging it over her shoulder. “No, you don’t, but you will. And when you do I hope you’ll remember who began this game.” He bent down to kiss her lips softly, wrapping her hair around his fist to tug her head back when he was done. “Are you going to suck my cock now, baby?”
She swallowed a moan and nodded, her nipples beading and sex tingling as she reached for the button on his suit pants, sliding the zipper down slowly. He used his free hand to push down his boxer briefs, freeing his erection for her touch.
It was a beautiful cock. Thick and hard, ridged with slender veins and satin covered steel to the touch. She licked her lips. She couldn’t believe they’d gone this long without her getting to taste him. They hadn’t stopped making love long enough to enjoy the other pleasures.
At least, she hadn’t. Dean couldn’t go more than a few hours without spreading her legs and thrusting his tongue inside her.
Now it was her turn. She lifted her breasts and leaned forward, slipping his hot shaft between them and squeezing them together while she looked up at him with sparkling eyes. “I think you mentioned this fantasy the other night.”
He growled. “Trying to kill me again, Sara? When did you become such a tease?” His grip tightened on her braid. “Open that beautiful mouth for me and give me what you promised.”
She loved it when he got like this. When he dropped the civilized façade and let the wild man take over. She craved it as much as she craved his touch. It made her feel feminine. Desired.
She placed her hands on his thighs and her lips parted over the head of his shaft, flicking her tongue out to lick him lightly. Man. Sex and salt and man and him. Dean. Her mouth widened and she lowered her head, taking more. Good. More than that. Addictive. Arousal drenched the white lace of her underwear as she gently sucked his shaft, feeling an answering tug in her sex.
“Fuck you are a tease,” he groaned, his other hand cupping the back of her head. “A sexy, wicked goddamn tease. Are you trying to make me beg?”
Maybe she was. She moaned against his erection when he started guiding her, pushing her head downward in desperation. “Like that. I’ve wanted to fuck this sweet mouth for so long. Wanted you on your knees like thi
s. Suck me, Sara. Yes. Fuck, baby that’s it. So good.”
It was. Sara pressed her fingers to her clit with one hand, the other gripping the base of his shaft as she gave them both what they needed. She’d never felt more desirable as he caressed her head, whispering sweet and dirty nothings as he got closer to climax.
“Your mouth was made for my cock, baby. Made to suck it. After I come down your throat I’m going to get you on this desk and bury my tongue in your pussy. When I get enough I’ll flip you over and fuck your ass until you want to scream but you can’t because we don’t want anyone to know what we’re doing in he— Ah! Sara, yes baby. Your tongue…”
A quick knock on the door and the sound of it opening made Sara freeze and Dean groan in denial. His hand tightened on her head warningly. Do not stop, it demanded.
“Dean?” The voice was male, but not familiar. Sara wondered how well she was hidden behind his desk. From the doorway, whoever it was might not be able to see her. “There’s a cart out here with our lunch on it. Should I bring it in or are we waiting for your mysterious lady friend?”
“Bring it in, Tracy,” Dean snarled. “And make sure to close and lock the door behind you. I’m…don’t stop, baby, please…I’m in the middle of something.”
The man hesitated while Dean kept her exactly where she was. “Should I come back another time, Dean?”
“I think…mmmm…I think she’d like it if you stayed.”
She was so aroused she almost climaxed at Dean’s words. He wanted his friend to know she was here. To know what she was doing. Oh God, it was wrong, wasn’t it? Why did that turn her on? Make her so hot her hips started rocking impatiently against her fingers, desperate to come.
Dean knew it would. He knew her darkest fantasies. To be watched. To be seen. That the idea of being caught aroused her, but the idea of being seen on purpose…of performing turned her on more than anything else. He hissed when her tongue pressed against his sensitive flesh and chuckled breathlessly. “Yes, I think I’m right. He doesn’t have to leave, does he, Sara?”
She groaned and shook her head, sucking him harder, feeling wilder than she had only moments before. Greedier.
“Christ, I’m coming, baby.” He sat up straighter, one hand bracing himself on the desk while the other still clutched her head. He pumped his hips against her. “I can’t….fuck…Sara!”
She closed her eyes when the taste of him filled her mouth. Dean.
A few thoughts started competing with each other for level of importance. Tracy Reyes was in the room with them. She was naked. She still hadn’t come and the new arrival hadn’t lessened her need at all.
Hussy.
She looked up at Dean to find his hazel gaze fixed on her. “Thank you.”
Her lips quivered. “Anytime.”
He smiled back. “If I’d known this was your plan when I asked you to lunch, I wouldn’t have let Tracy invite himself.”
“I know.”
Dean reached up to shrug off his jacket, loosening his tie and pulling it over his head before he reached for his shirt buttons.
Sara felt like her eyes would pop out of her head. Now? Was he still going to do what he promised? With Tracy Reyes watching? “Dean?”
“We have a very strict dress code for lunch, Ms. Charles,” he murmured. “Remember? Those breasts must be covered if anyone is going to be fed.”
He handed her his shirt and she slipped it on gratefully, wondering how she was going to get off her knees and meet the gentleman cowboy when he’d seen… How much had he seen? And how did she get herself in this situation?
Dean pushed back his chair and stood, holding out his hand. “Tracy’s a friend, Sara. You can trust him.”
She let him help her up, tugging his expensive shirt down to cover up her lace undies and squaring her shoulders before turning around to face Tracy Reyes.
He was gorgeous. Dark eyes, dark wavy hair beneath a worn cowboy hat and skin golden-brown from his time in the sun. A giant, he had at least three inches of height on Dean and his biceps were so impressive they threatened his tailored blue shirt as he lifted an appetizer from the tray in front of him and popped it into his mouth.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Reyes,” she said with as much calm as she could muster. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
He smiled politely at her, as if there was nothing unusual about their meeting. Or perhaps he was attempting to put her at ease. “Good afternoon to you to, ma’am. Sara, is it? It is definitely a pleasure to meet you.”
He held out his hand as Dean guided her across the room, and she shook it, trying to pretend she wasn’t naked beneath Dean’s shirt and she hadn’t just been under the desk giving him a blowjob while she touched herself.
“Sara,” Dean turned her to face him and lowered his voice. “Are you okay?”
“Sure.” She nodded, still shaky and definitely a little out of sorts, but she wasn’t sure if it was embarrassment or sexual frustration. “I’m fine. This is all perfectly normal.”
He squeezed her shoulders and chuckled, guiding her down to the couch while gesturing Tracy to the chair across from her. “Sit down, Reyes, while I get Sara something to eat. You sounded strange when you called. Anything wrong?”
“Other than the fact that none of you have been answering the phone lately and you told me Henry disappeared with your car?” he glanced over at Sara with an apologetic smile before continuing. “It wasn’t that important, Dean. Just wanted some advice on a project. It’ll keep. Have you heard from anyone?”
Dean set several plates on the table and sat down beside her. When she saw what he’d served her, she couldn’t help smiling. He’d ordered from the tapas restaurant they’d gone to last week. She’d loved it…and he remembered all her favorites. There was also a plate of strawberries, which didn’t surprise her. Dean was obsessed with feeding her strawberries. Or covering her body with strawberry slices that he insisted on eating off of her while he brought her to orgasm with her vibrator.
She reached for a napkin and an empanada, listening to them discuss their friends’ strange behavior and trying not to think about sex.
“I did get ahold of Peter. Once,” Dean sighed. “We were talking about the new business venture, but as soon as I told him about Henry and the car, he made some excuse and hung up. Still hasn’t called me back.”
“I have a feeling about that.” Tracy’s voice was wry. “The competition must be on again.”
“What competition?” Sara licked her lips and wiped off her mouth, wishing she’d stayed silent when both men focused on her with sexy bedroom eyes. She tugged on the shirt again. “I’m sorry, it’s none of my business.”
“They’ve both been after the same woman since college.” Dean dropped his hand to her knee, pushing up the hem of her borrowed shirt as he traced a path to her thigh. “Well, they chased her in college, caught her for a minute, and now they might be chasing her again. We can’t be sure.”
Tracy sounded surprised. “Did I miss the catching her part? Where the hell was I?”
Dean laughed. “Christmas break. That time they both stayed at the house instead of their usual trips abroad?”
Both. Sara was too fascinated to hold her tongue. “They both caught her? At the same time?” And they wanted to do it again?
“She never could choose between them,” Tracy answered. “I suppose it was bound the happen. Might explain why she ran scared, though.”
Sara was dubious. Peter Faraday and Henry Vincent were—individually—practically irresistible. A woman with men like that, two of them, both focused on her pleasure? She pressed her thighs together, swallowed hard and spoke without thinking. “Who would run away from that?”
Tracy chuckled. “Good question.”
“Fascinating question.” Dean’s fingers tightened on her thigh. “Sara. I think it’s your turn.”
Oh God. They’d just been talking about two men and one woman having… “Maybe we should wait until after lunch?”
>
“I’m not talking about that…yet.” Then he chuckled. “But after your reaction to the Hummer, I think it’s time we graduated and got rid of the tinted windows.”
Tracy took his hat off and ran his hand through his hair, studying them intently. “Care to let me in on this conversation, Dean?”
She started to tremble.
“It’s the same conversation we’ve been having since Franco’s, Tracy. Fantasies. As fate would have it, Sara has an interest in them as well. When we discovered we had a shared obsession, we began taking turns checking off each other’s forbidden wish lists. She just fulfilled one of mine and, coincidentally, she has one or two that I’d only trust with you.”
“I see.”
She couldn’t stop the blushing. Even after all they’d done. What she was tempted to do. “Mr. Reyes, ignore him. He doesn’t even believe in coincidence. And you don’t need to do any—”
“For this conversation you should call me Tracy, Sara.” His smile was gentle but his eyes were darker than they’d been before. Narrowed. “Believe me, I never do anything I don’t want to do. And I’m intrigued. What’s this fantasy of yours he thinks I can help with?”
She turned to look at Dean, her heart racing so fast she was worried she might pass out. Up until now it had just been talk. Just the two of them, skirting the edge of the forbidden.
Dean wrapped his arm around her. “Tell me something, Sara. Did the rumor mill in accounting ever talk about Tracy? Ever mention anything about his predilections?”
She shook her head. Everyone on the twenty-third floor was in love with Tracy Reyes, and dumbfounded that such a decent, family-loving man spent his free time socializing with sexual deviants.
When she told him Dean’s expression was humorously resigned. “He really is the Teflon Cowboy, isn’t he? He’s also a rope top, among other things, who’s in fairly high demand when he’s in town. That man knows his way around kinks you and I haven’t scratched the surface of discussing, and he has some serious control issues.”
The cowboy billionaire was a rope top? She bit her lip to keep her mouth from dropping open. She had a sudden graphic image in her head of what that might look like, an image that changed Tracy Reyes forever from handsome to hot.
