Wicked Lovers 05.5 - Wicked To Love

by Shayla Black

  Wicked To Love

  A Wicked Lovers Novella

  Shayla Black

  “What is the meaning of this?” Brandon Ross grabbed Emberlin Evans’s arm before she could duck into her apartment.

  As she gasped out a startled sound and turned to face him, Brandon fisted her letter between them. Goddamn it, he wanted an explanation for why she’d tossed this crap on his desk and left without a word.

  Then he saw her face. Redness rimmed her swollen hazel eyes. Tears splashed down her mottled cheeks, rolling past her lips, which were pressed together in a grim line.

  His anger evaporated, and he eased closer, relaxing his grip. “Em, are you all right?”

  She pulled away, her pale hair like a cloud around her shoulders as she fumbled with her keys. “Fine. I’ve resigned, effective immediately. That’s all you need to know.”

  What the hell? Legally, he wasn’t entitled to know more, but personally? “Emmy, what happened? Did someone hurt you?”

  “Not in the way you mean.” She closed her eyes, refusing to look at him. “Just…go.”

  Fuck no. He’d seen Em cry once in the three years they’d worked together—the day she’d lost her mother. This wasn’t the same calm assistant he’d relied on for everything from faultless organization to uncanny insight. Seeing her pain made his chest feel hollow and tight. Even if she wasn’t going to work for him anymore, he refused to leave her upset.

  “Tell me what’s wrong, Em. Do you need help?”

  “No.” She edged behind the door, putting it between them, and set her keys on the counter. “I can’t work for you anymore. My resignation letter says everything relevant.”

  “Except why.”

  Incredulity crossed her face. “Why do you care?”

  “No one is more efficient or can more ruthlessly prep me for a meeting. You know this business. We’ve been a damn good team. I don’t understand.”

  Em gripped the door between them. “You’ll find someone else who’s equally qualified.”

  “I don’t want to find someone else. You’re the best. Do you need more money? I’ll do my damndest to get you a raise. You deserve it.”

  “It’s not about money.” She started to close the door, shutting him out.

  Alarm set in, and Brandon wedged his foot inside, blocking her. He peeked through the crack. “Please. I…need you.”

  The thought of her not being his right hand stabbed him with panic. Nothing would run right without her. He wouldn’t run right without her sassy finger wags, sparkling laughter, and ruthless organization.

  But instead of coaxing, his admission seemed to crush her. Her face crumbled as more tears spilled. “No, you don’t. You never will.”

  Brandon grabbed her shoulders and pulled her closer. Damn, she felt so fragile, so soft. “Why would you think that? We’ve worked hard to get the city to appropriate funds for the firefighters’ new equipment. We won a major battle last Friday, and you were all smiles after that meeting. Without you, it’s very possible their decision could have gone the other way.”

  “You’ll manage just fine on your own. I need a…change. Could you please go?” Em shrugged away and tried to shut the door again.

  “Bullshit.” Brandon pushed it open wide and shoved inside. She was upset; no mistaking that. “I don’t believe for one second that you’re done helping Houston’s first responders. You’ve worked your ass off for every victory. For three years you’ve talked about nothing except making sure other families don’t lose a loved one in the line of duty, the way you lost your father. Championing his cause is your passion. I don’t believe you want to give that up.”

  No fucking way would Brandon simply let Em go—not until he understood why she wanted to quit something so meaningful to her. Not until he did everything he could to help her.

  She sniffled angrily. “You have no idea what I want.”

  Brandon still wasn’t buying it, but he’d play along. “If you truly need a different job, I’ll do my best to help you. As a boss, I’m really disappointed to lose you. But as your friend, I’m not leaving until—”

  “Your friend?” She stared at the ceiling for a painful moment. When she looked at him, fresh tears glistened.

  Oh, damn. She wasn’t simply upset; she was upset with him. Was she quitting because of something he’d said or done?

  “Emmy, tell me what I did to make you cry,” he murmured. “Whatever it was, I didn’t do it intentionally. I assumed we were friends, but if you don’t want to be—”

  Brandon clammed up, refusing to finish that sentence. It bugged him that she wouldn’t think they were at least friends. No, the thought actually hurt.

  Of course Em had worked for him, but they’d shared more than a job—at least he’d thought so. Brandon had held her hand at her mother’s funeral. She’d nursed him back from that terrible flu last fall. She’d prepared a delicious Thanksgiving dinner for his half-sister Morgan and her husband, Jack, keeping the conversation rolling so that there’d been no awkward moments—a big plus since Brandon had once taken Jack’s former wife to bed.

  The same woman who had abruptly visited his office last Friday afternoon.

  Shit. Did this have something to do with Kayla? Was Em…jealous? Brandon didn’t hate that idea. No denying that Em was lovely. Her sweet face and blazing head for business were attraction enough. But she also had lush tits and a gorgeous ass with a tiny waist in between. How could he not notice her?

  During their introduction, he’d put her in the “doable” category. Then the HR rep had informed him that Em was his secretary. After that, Brandon had done his best to put all sexual thoughts of her on lockdown and be strictly her boss. After all, Houstonians had elected him to do a job, not chase a skirt. The first few weeks of ignoring Emmy as a woman had been tough. Since then, they’d been so busy, and she’d been thoroughly professional. Once he’d gotten used to her as a co-worker, he’d stopped thinking about her as a woman.

  Until now.

  “I don’t want to be friends, Brandon.” Em braced her hands against his chest and gave him a little push. “Go, please.”

  Her touch flared sparks through him. Arousal charged his veins, seared his skin. Blood gushed south in a torrent. His dick got hard and strained against his zipper in record time.

  Suddenly, he was rethinking the whole “friends” thing, too.

  “I’m not leaving.” Brandon kicked the door closed behind him, nudging her farther into her snug but homey apartment, backing her against the foyer wall.

  He’d be damned if he simply gave up on her without a good reason.

  Then her musky-floral scent teased his nose. Fuck, she even smelled good. His dick swelled more.

  Eyes wide, she thrust her hands on the flare of her hips. “Well, come on in.”

  He ignored her sarcasm. “Why don’t you want to be friends?”

  At his question, she tried to edge away from him. No fucking way. Brandon planted his hands on the wall on either side of her head, caging her in, and leaned closer.

  Em sighed in frustration. “Ease up. I need a tissue.”

  He reached over her and grabbed the little box off the bar, not giving her an inch of breathing room. He probably should, at least while she dabbed her face. But he wasn’t letting her go until he had the answer to his question.

  “Does your resignation have anything to do with Kayla’s visit?”

  Em got that deer-in-the-headlights look and drew in a sharp breath. Bingo! Why would Kayla’s visit matter? It shouldn’t…unless Em had feelings for him. Unless she wanted him. It took him barely half a second to realize that he really didn’t hate that idea.

  “G
o, Brandon. Please.”

  They had to talk about this. Even if Em left her job, he didn’t want matters unresolved between them. He wouldn’t leave her hurting. But Em had been tight-lipped so far about answering his questions. If she had feelings for him, she wasn’t going to blurt them. But he could test his theory. All it would take was one small kiss.

  Brandon lowered his head. Her breath caught just as he layered his mouth across hers.

  At the first touch of her pillowy lips, a jolt of heat blistered through him. He lingered, then pressed harder. She accepted his kiss, clung to him, her lips so pliant and eager. Em felt so damn good. Desire blindsided him. Unable to stop, Brandon went back for seconds, brushing his mouth over her softness again.

  As he drew in a shuddering breath, her scent lured him closer. In fact, now that he was opening his senses to her, everything about Em intrigued him.

  He wrapped his hands around the golden knot of hair at her nape and brought her even closer. Em’s soft curves melted against him. The feel of her heart pounding furiously against his chest drugged his system with desire. She trembled in his arms as he laid yet another kiss on her little rosy mouth, then licked his way across her lower lip. He’d already taken more from her than a boss should, but now he knew that Em felt something beyond the professional for him.

  When she mewled, that desperate little sound rolled through his blood like a fever. Arousal seized his spine and shook him to the core. Holy hell, Em was a fabulous assistant, but right now, he wanted her as a woman—naked, gasping, nails in his shoulders, crying his name.

  Impatient and hungry, Brandon pushed his way inside her mouth and invaded deep to finally taste her. Ah, so fucking sweet. Sugary and a bit tart. Addicting.

  She unfurled for him, tentatively at first. Then he brushed her tongue with his and took complete possession of her mouth. Em went wild, wrapping her arms around his neck, pressing her body so close not even a breath of air came between them.

  Hot. Her sweet little mouth beneath his welcomed, beckoned. And the little noises she made at the back of her throat… Then—shit—she wriggled her hips, rubbing her pussy against his iron-hard cock, conveying her need. A new spike of desire pierced him. His self-control gave way.

  He grabbed her ass through her skirt, wedging her tightly between his body and the wall, thrusting right between her legs in an insistent rhythm that had her digging her nails into him and gasping out his name. Fuck. When was the last time he’d been this hot? This hard? She’d stunned him with her softness, her ardor. He needed more of her now.

  When Brandon wedged a hand between them to cup her breast, he started to sweat. He’d suspected that Em had one hell of a rack under those boxy, professional jackets she wore, but even he’d been unprepared for how lush and real her curves were, how wonderfully heavy and firm her breast would lay in his palm.

  Oh, God. This was his practical, efficient Em? She was like a world of secrets he’d never imagined and now couldn’t wait to explore.

  Somehow he managed to tear his lips away from hers. Her skin—he had to taste it. He brushed his lips over the pale flesh of her throat, latching on for a gentle nip, a lick. He groaned, savoring her. Her scent was something light, with a hint of cloves and spice. The texture of her skin was so silken it was almost powdery. Definitely delicate and pure. She burned easily in the sun. He’d heard her talk about it before and had laughed at her fragility. He’d usually dated outdoorsy girls. But now? They’d probably feel like leather. Em was a delectable, velvety treat. And if her neck was this soft, he could only imagine what he’d find between her breasts, across her stomach, on the insides of her thighs.

  The thought made him harder than he could ever remember being in his life.

  “Brandon,” she breathed, clutching him tighter.

  “Em, baby. God, you feel so good. You taste…” He captured her mouth again. He had no words to describe how unique and perfect her flavor was to him.

  She welcomed every touch he gave her and shoved his suit coat off his shoulders, down his arms. Hugo Boss puddled at his feet behind him, and considering what he’d paid for this suit, he should care. He didn’t. If her ripping out the zipper of these slacks would get him inside her faster, he was totally in favor.

  He yanked her coat off, then went for the pins holding her golden tresses up at her nape. He tugged gently, sliding clips out. The strands fell apart to reveal soft waves that he wrapped in his fingers, anchoring her against him, just as he would when he got deep inside her and pumped her to orgasm.

  Jesus, she hadn’t said yes. She might push him away. If she did, he’d seduce, caress, beg—whatever it took. He craved her under him right now, taking him. He felt desperate to fill her with his cock.

  Except…she’d left him today without a single word.

  Too often, he dated damsels in distress, like he unconsciously sought someone to rescue. He and his half-sister Morgan had talked about the fact that he needed to stop chasing people who were fucked up. They always used him for cheap therapy, then tore his heart out when they left. Like Kayla. But if Em said yes now, it would be because she wanted him, not because she needed rescuing. She was one of the most grounded, genuine people he knew.

  Em couldn’t leave him now. No way. Not happening. He’d tasted her—and he was nowhere near done.

  Finally, he peeled her jacket away and tossed it over the bar beside her. He tore into the shapeless blue blouse beneath her gray coat. He half-feared some resistance, but no. She pressed another kiss to his lips, then wrapped her fingers around the buttons of his shirt and unfastened them, one by one. He was all kinds of distracted by all the cleavage he exposed above that lacy, uber-sheer contraption she called a bra. Fuck, he could see her tight, pink nipples. And he could barely breathe.

  When Em’s small hands prowled across his bare chest, over every muscle and ridge, lighting up his skin more effectively than a hundred strings of Christmas lights on a tree, he lost patience and ripped the rest of her blouse away. Buttons popped off, flying everywhere. Silk shredded with an almost sexual roar that fired his blood hotter.

  Em gasped as he dragged her shirt off and clasped her breasts in his palms. “Fuck, these are pretty. Em… God, I want these. I want you.”

  He couldn’t wait to have her bra off. It clasped in the back, and he pulled at it with one hand while he nipped and sucked at her through the sheer cups.

  Em gripped his hair, clasping him against her, and groaned a soft “yes.”

  One little word, and he became a freight train without brakes. She wanted him, and nothing was going to stop him from having her. In that moment, Brandon was damn glad, especially when the clasp of her bra gave way beneath his fingers and the little garment fell to the floor…

  #

  She was disintegrating. That’s all Em could think as she opened beneath the dominating power of Brandon’s kiss. He tasted like everything she’d imagined he would. Clean, strong, masculine, powerful. He didn’t just part her lips with his; he plowed past her defenses and melted her resistance, her inhibition, her thoughts.

  Sighing into his mouth, Em gave herself over to him completely.

  She’d been in love with Brandon Ross from almost day one. When they’d first met, she’d seen a flare of attraction in his blue eyes. God, he’d only had to look at her, and she’d blushed thinking about all the heady, sexual things she wanted to do with him. But he’d quickly replaced that flicker of awareness with a professional mask. Together, they’d done a lot of good for the city’s first responders, and she was proud of that. They’d also gotten to know one another. With every conversation and revelation, she’d only fallen deeper for her loyal but very sexy boss.

  Then, a few months later, the Emergency Services taskforce team members had gone for happy hour following some victories with the city budget planners. Everyone had imbibed a drink or two, then left. She’d been alone with Brandon. After a few beers, he’d told her that he’d been in love with a former buddy’s ex-wi
fe for a few years.

  Brandon’s lack of interest in any other woman had made sense then. And it had broken Em’s heart. But she’d lived with it, hoping that someday…

  But someday had never come. Instead, after three years, his flame, Kayla, came to see him last Friday afternoon. When they’d left together in deep conversation, standing intimately close and looking beautiful together, it had crushed the last of Em’s hope.

  But now, Brandon wasn’t kissing her like a man in love with someone else. His tongue curled around hers, tangling hotly. His hands clasped her face, holding her still so he could dive even deeper. He pressed his bare chest to hers like he wanted to meld into one body, like he found any separation between them unacceptable. Em couldn’t agree more.

  If she had any chance to have even a few hours with Brandon, she’d take it with both hands. It probably sounded pathetic, but she was past caring. This man had been the center of her fantasies and dreams for three years. She wasn’t giving him up until he walked away.

  Brandon ripped his mouth from her and stared down into her eyes. His wide, muscled chest rose and fell with every breath, but the electric connection of their gazes never wavered. Silently, he was asking what the hell was happening between them. She didn’t want him to question, just kiss her again, take off the rest of her clothes, and make her his—even if it was only for a moment.

  “Please…” she begged.

  His eyes darkened. “I’ve got to have you, Em. Baby…”

  She gave him a jerky nod, then stood on her tiptoes to kiss him.

  He opened to her searching lips, then took control. The dark way he dominated her mouth made her shiver, especially when he thumbed her nipples, ripping fire through her. She gasped into his kiss and gripped his shoulders like she’d never let go.

  With a last nip at her lower lip, he broke away and went straight for her breasts. He took her nipple into the hot cavern of his mouth and sucked hard. The sensation zipped a tingling path down to her pussy. Already, she could tell how wet she was. Her little panties were clinging damply to her flesh. And she ached so badly to have him filling her there.