by RG Alexander
You’re all I can think about.
“Dean, yes. Please, I want you inside me. I need it.” Sara’s pleas had him blindly reaching for a condom as he clicked the camera’s control and tossed it on the bed.
He pushed her hair to the side and kissed her neck, shifting her body until it was at an angle to the camera and he was behind her again. “Let me have this. Show me how much you want me, Sara. Cameras can’t lie.”
He gripped the bonds on her back again to hold her up with one hand, the other holding back the rope long enough to guide his cock inside. “You’re so wet, baby. Let me…”
Her back bowed, his hold on her the only thing keeping her grounded as he sunk deep. “Dean,” she whimpered. “Dean, it’s—I don’t know how, oh, how to explain it.”
“You’re out of control. Completely. Your body is in my hands and you can’t move.” He reached around her and caressed her clit, pressing her back against him. “The whole world is just this. Me inside you. Touching you. All you can do is let me make you come. Let me take you.”
“Yes.”
He looked down at her body, watching the bounce and sway with every thrust of his hips, and swallowed a groan. “You may feel out of control but you’re not, baby. I’m the one in knots.” He pushed her forward and raised himself over her, using her arousal to coat the tender skin between her cheeks before pushing inside her ass.
“Dean!”
“Tell me you want this,” his voice was garbled with need. “Tell me again that this is mine, that no one else has ever gotten this close to heaven.”
She was moaning almost continuously, her body shaking in his hold. “I want this, Dean. God, I love it.”
“Love what, bad girl?” He wanted to hear her say it. Loved hearing the words coming out of her sweet, bow shaped mouth.
“Love your cock,” she sobbed. “Love it when you fuck my ass. Love everything you do. Love… Harder. Fuck me harder.”
“Damn it, Sara!” He was completely out of control, his muscles trembling as he bowed his body over hers and shafted her with the long, hard strokes she’d begged for. “Like this? Is this what you want, baby? Is this how crazy you want to make me? I… Fuck, Sara, I’m too close. I have to slow down.”
“No! Don’t stop, Dean.”
He couldn’t resist her. Couldn’t stop the powerful climax from throwing him off the edge of the world. He shouted her name, shocks of electricity blasting up his spine as she devastated him.
How did it get better every damn time?
She was still moaning. Still clinging to the edge when Dean pulled out of her with a shudder and fell onto his back, lifting her bound leg until his face was between her thighs.
“Come for me,” he muttered, raising his head and plunging his tongue inside her dripping sex. Yes. Her taste. He’d never get enough. Never stop. Never. Fucking. Stop.
He heard her find her climax, felt the flood against his lips and growled greedily. More. Again. Had to have more. He never wanted stop.
He didn’t want it to end.
Chapter Seven
Sara stared at herself in the bathroom mirror. She’d stood under the shower until the water turned ice-cold. Her lips were too pale, her eyes were too wide and her body…
Her body was the same one she’d seen nearly a month and a half before. Healthy. Ordinary. Nothing to show for all the passion she’d known. No rope marks or bite marks from the last wild session of fantasy fulfillment. No whisker burn on her thighs, just the memory of her begging and crying out for mercy when his voracious mouth refused to stop until she’d lost track of her orgasms. Until she’d been sure she would black out from pleasure.
She sighed and walked naked to the closet, staring at her clothes without seeing them. Her vacation had been over for two weeks. She got up, went to work, came home and cried herself to sleep. Monday to Friday, rinse and repeat.
She’d been impulsive again. And not in a good way.
The Ms. Anonymous article had been the catalyst, but not because she cared what anyone wrote about her. She wasn’t ashamed of the time she’d spent with Dean and no one could cheapen it, no matter what they said.
But she hadn’t realized how tenuous Dean’s standing as CEO was or that his uncle was quite so rabid about selling the company. Tracy Reyes had told her the situation was so ludicrous anyone would be surprised, but she should have known better. She’d helped during the last review. Where had the office gossip been for her then? How could she have missed that vital bit of information?
Because she’d wanted him. She hadn’t been thinking about anyone but herself.
Until she’d had to.
Mindy, Bruce, Andrew and the others didn’t deserve to be voted out of a job so she could play spin the bottle with their boss.
She’d called her supervisor before Dean’s last fantasy and listened to his pleas. He was in over his head and he needed her back, regardless of the current rumors. He’d offered her a raise and said all the right things. Water under the bridge. These things happened. And despite the fact that she hadn’t had a single regret about leaving the stuffy twenty-third floor and had never planned on returning, he’d been so pathetic that she agreed to come back. Temporarily.
Why? she wondered as she buttoned her blouse and slipped into her low-heeled shoes. Since when had she become such a masochist? Why would she volunteer to be in the same building as Dean every day again, the one decision about her future that would ensure they could no longer continue seeing each other?
She hadn’t told him it was a two-week deal. That she was training someone of her choosing to take over for her. That she was ensuring she wasn’t to blame for the board’s vote of no confidence.
“Good jobs are hard to find,” she’d reasoned carefully, avoiding his gaze. “I can’t turn down a raise like this for a sexual fantasy, no matter how amazing it is. I’m just glad Mrs. Grandholm told me my supervisor wanted me back.”
He’d looked like he was going to argue, but something stopped him. He’d taken her home, walked her to her door and bent down to kiss her. So softly she’d almost started to cry.
She hadn’t seen him since. Not in the elevator. Not in the lobby. She had to be thankful for that, at least. There was no guarantee she wouldn’t embarrass herself by grabbing onto him and never letting go. By telling him something she’d known even before he got into his car and disappeared.
She’d made a mistake.
She locked the door of her apartment, turned around and nearly ran into the man standing there.
“Roy?”
“Ms. Charles.”
“Are you kidding?”
Roy adjusted his driver’s cap and smiled as he stood by the gratuitously oversized limousine. “I don’t think so, Ms. Charles. I rarely kid this early in the morning.”
When the back door of the Hummer opened, the broad-shouldered Tracy Reyes stepped out, holding his hat in his hands. “Good morning, Sara. I think you should let us give you a ride to work.”
In that? After she and Dean had… “I have my own car, but thank you.”
“The Sara Charles? Is this her?”
Sara’s eyes widened when the stunning Peter Faraday popped his head out of the limousine and sent her the dazzling grin that was famous for getting him into—and out of—trouble.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sara,” he told her. “Though redhead isn’t an adequate descriptor, is it, Tracy? Titianesque, I’d say.”
“You’d say that if your name was Dick,” she heard Tracy mutter.
Peter’s smile dimmed. “Sara, I’d wager you’re an understanding and kind soul. We would much rather you ride with us. Tracy, Henry and I have situations to get back to that require all of our attention, and it would save Roy here from a drawn-out car chase and Dean from the unwanted attention that occurs when we descend on him en masse.”
All three of them were in the limo? Tracy Reyes, Peter Faraday and Henry Vincent had all come to give her a ride to work?
She glanced at Roy, who sent her a look of encouragement. “Please, Ms. Charles. It would be my pleasure.”
There was no way to get out of this gracefully. Not without Dean knowing about it. She walked toward Tracy, her movements stiff and tense as she was reminded of all the things she’d done with him. And Dean.
Dean.
Shit.
Tracy helped her step up into the limousine, and after giving her eyes a few minutes to adjust, she still wanted to pinch herself as she viewed her carnal carpool. The Billionaire Bachelors should be called the Pantheon of Porn instead. They were gods, all of them. Gorgeous sex gods who proved the Rod Stewart lyric true—some guys did have all the luck. Four of them, anyway.
Henry Vincent, the bearded guitar player, who lounged against the leather like the god of wine, rock and sin. Peter Faraday, the beautiful sun god with rakish golden curls, disarming smile and unusually piercing blue eyes that seemed to read her too easily. And Tracy… Sara bit her lip. The gentleman god of rope and kink.
The only one missing was Dean.
She missed him. So badly it made her ache.
She clenched her hands together over the purse in her lap. Gods or not, she didn’t appreciate the reminder. Or the staring. It made it easy to forget her awe and hang on to her pique. “The building isn’t that far away, fellas, and you have things—or people—to do, so unless you’re trying to intimidate me with the silent treatment, you should tell me why you’re here.”
Henry laughed. “She’s got fire.”
Sara lifted one eyebrow. “I’ve got all my teeth too. I’m a catch. Tracy? What’s going on?”
“You tell us, Sara.” Tracy, looking entirely too long-legged to be comfortable, leaned forward. “What have you done to Dean? And when were you planning on fixing it?”
She frowned. “Has something happened? I thought last week’s dissolution of the board had solved his problems.”
“So you don’t know what happened? You haven’t heard anything about what happened with the vote?”
Impatient, Sara reached out and whacked Tracy’s knee. When his eyes narrowed in warning, she closed her eyes and took a calming breath. She really hadn’t meant to do that. “I’m sorry. But do I look like I know? I thought his uncle had second thoughts and decided to give up his bid to sell the company.”
Peter chuckled, his arm wrapped around one bent knee as he studied her. “Fire and innocence. The board voted against Dean and Uncle Warren sold the company, but that was exactly what we wanted. I created a bidder he couldn’t resist, with just the right amounts of greed and callousness to tempt him, then we pooled our resources for the purchase and promptly sold enough shares back to Dean that he retained the controlling interest. It was the perfect plan.”
“Not to toot your own horn,” Henry added dryly.
Sara’s shoulders started to relax in relief. “Thank God.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Dick…”
Peter glared at Tracy. “He’s got Holly doing it now, you know. I hope you’re happy.”
Holly?
“Oh, you found her?” She blushed. “I mean, never mind.”
The privacy window lowered enough for Roy to say, “Sirs? We’re nearly there. If you’re going to ask her…”
He disappeared again without finishing his sentence and Sara wrinkled her nose in confusion. “Ask me what? And how does Roy know what you’re going to ask me?”
Henry winked. “He’s the one who gave us our intel. His sister is dating Bruce, the security guard, and when he heard your friend Andrew telling him that today was officially your last day and that you were talking about taking a job on the other side of the country, he thought I might like to know. He was right.”
“Remind me to thank Roy personally.” Sara’s smile was tight. “But why would you want to know? Why do any of you care?”
Tracy answered her. “Dean is free, Sara. He has what he’s wanted after five long years, though I can’t tell you why he didn’t let us do this sooner. Some people can take pride a little too far. Anyway, he can have a life now without worrying about his father’s will or his uncle’s meddling.”
“And?”
“And he doesn’t care.”
“He’s an ass,” Peter offered. “More than he was before his recent vacation, and that’s saying something.”
Sara held her tongue. He wasn’t hers to defend. And did they all know what she and Dean had done? Did they tell each other everything? “What does that have to do with me?”
“Sara,” Tracy chided softly. “I know how clever you are. I’ve also seen the chemistry between the two of you firsthand. It doesn’t take a genius to see that your leaving and his mood are connected. And I’d have to have been blind not to know why you were really crying that night. How you feel about him.”
She shook her head, focusing on breathing. He couldn’t know. She hadn’t even realized it until last week. Not consciously.
She’d made a mistake thinking she could live out her fantasies and walk away unscathed. If she were honest, she’d begun to realize it was more than that after Tracy left the penthouse. Wasn’t that why she’d made the effort to slow down and back away—because reality was turning out to be better than her wildest dreams? It was always going to be temporary. She’d known it, but like a fool she’d fallen in love with Dean anyway.
“We had an agreement. One month without complications or commitment. When I came back to work for the company, however temporarily, that ended it. I’m following the rules.”
Henry made a sound of disgust. “Your rules, his rules, Peter’s damn rules—I am so sick of everyone talking about Goddamn rules!”
Peter sighed. “You’re a real rock and roll rebel, Henry. If you had your guitar right now, you could smash it to emphasize your point.”
“Rules are walls for you to hide behind.” He was looking at Peter but he gestured to Sara. “Look at those two. They both wanted each other, but despite his plans, it was only after she quit that they got together. And when it got too scary? When she felt too much? She actually got herself rehired again. Bam. Up went the wall. And Dean? Even after he found out, and he must have, that she’s a temp who’s on her way out the door again, he’s still holding back. How the hell do babies get made if relationships are this complicated?”
Sara leaned back in her seat, feeling hopeless. “Maybe he doesn’t feel the same,” she whispered.
He’d mentioned before that he’d planned to ask her out anyway, despite his policy. If he’d really wanted her again, then after his coup against the board, he could have let her know.
Henry crowed. “Ding, ding, ding! We have our answer. She loves him.”
“Henry, don’t put words in her mouth,” Tracy warned carefully. “Is he right, Sara? Would you stay if he asked?”
A tear slipped out before she could stop it and she angrily rubbed it away. “It’s nice the way you all look out for each other, it really is, but this is too much. Do you know that first night we were almost over before we began because he thought I was a present from you? That’s one of the reasons I made my rules in the first place, so he wouldn’t feel like I was trying to trap him or trick him. And now, what is it you want to know? If I’m in love with him? Why? So you can add another name to your roster of broken hearts? So you can stop me from leaving? He’s the only one who can, and the only one who should decide whether or not he wants to.”
The limousine slowed to a stop and she reached for the handle, brushing Tracy’s hand away. “I’m sorry. I just can’t…”
“I’m the one who should apologize, Sara. We were wrong to gang up on you this way.”
“Yes, you were.” She stood beside the car and turned to face the three chagrined, still devastatingly handsome faces. “Thank you for the ride, but you all have situations that require your attention. I’m sure Dean Warren will manage without you.” She straightened her shoulders as a piercing pain struck her heart. “Without any of
us.”
When she finally made it to the elevator, she leaned against the wall and buried her face in her hands. Eight more hours. She could survive anything for eight hours. Even a breaking heart.
***
“Did you get all that, God?”
Dean was pacing the floor of his office when he stopped and slammed his hands on the desk. “No one asked you to do that. Damn it, Henry.”
“Are you kidding? You’ve been begging for an intervention for days.” Peter’s voice sounded distant and tinny through the Hummer’s speakerphone, which Henry had called him with during their conversation with Sara. Thank God they’d had him on mute. He hadn’t been able to stop swearing.
“Yell at us later, Dean,” Tracy urged. “But you had a question and now you have your answer. As your new partners, we give the CEO permission to terminate the non-fraternization policy and grab the girl before she can leave.”
He hung up on them and kept pacing, going back over the conversation in his head. She hadn’t admitted to being in love with him.
She hadn’t denied it either.
That night when she’d told him she’d found out about the job still being available, when she couldn’t look him in the eye, it had thrown him into a tailspin he hadn’t gotten out of in time to argue. He told himself it was for the best. That something as combustible and limitless and fantastic as this thing that was between them could never last. She was just smart enough to see it first.
Sara Charles had kept her word. She hadn’t asked for anything more than his body and his pleasure. She’d been honest…until their last conversation. But now it seemed even that white lie had been mostly for his benefit. To release him from any feelings of obligation. To protect him from Ms. Anonymous and the now defunct board.
Maybe he doesn’t feel the same.
