by Sabrina York
He wanted to fuck her, he realized with surprise. For the first time in two years, here was a woman—a real, live, flesh-and-blood woman—he desperately wanted to taste. He wanted to throw her to the ground and cover her, spread her legs and plow into her. He wanted…
Hell. He wanted.
“Hey, Adam?” Sara’s cheerful voice shattered his welling fantasy. Damn. He slid his notebook over the lip of his desk to shield his raging hard-on, blithely pretending to consult the figures on the page. It wouldn’t do to frighten the staff with the size of his…staff.
“Yes?”
“Do you have the blurb we wrote up for the Carlson presentation last fall? I was thinking we could use that in the PowerPoint.”
Huh? What? Oh. Yeah. Sara was talking about work. The remaining whiffs of his fantasy drifted away and with them the sharp edge of his desire. “Yeah. I think I have it on my laptop. Let me check and I’ll email it to you.”
“’Kay. Thanks.” With a sketchy wave, she was gone.
Her interruption had been fortuitous. Had his errant thoughts been allowed to rove unchecked, he could easily have become carried away, stormed over to Katherine’s office and bent her over her desk or something.
He could be in her by now.
That quickly, his wilted erection sprang back to life. Hell, he thought, shooting a surreptitious glance across the hall. He was in trouble.
He forced himself to focus on work, to ignore the elegant little movements he could see her making out of the corner of his eye. He flipped open his laptop and switched it on, pretending to study it diligently as it sped through its routine. It chimed. Loudly.
Katherine’s head shot up at the sound. She eyed him warily from across the hall, like a cornered rabbit.
Adam merely ignored her and filed this odd reaction away, pressing the mute button on his speakers as he logged online. He was supposed to be hunting for Sara’s file. He knew that. But for some reason, he was drawn inexorably toward his chat room. Toward Wildkat. Somehow he knew, he hoped, there’d be a message from her.
And holy hell, there was.
His hand shook as he clicked open the message box and read.
WILDKAT: Savage, I have to work tonight, so I have to cancel our date. Sorry.
Adam stared at the message. Hope and a hint of certainty skirled in his gut. What were the odds? He kept asking himself and the answer kept coming back fuzzy. Statistically, it was a billion to one that Katherine could be Wildkat. The thought was insane.
But the coincidences were piling up. Her “duck on a june bug” comment, the familiar tenor of Wildkat’s voice and now this? That they both had to work late? On the same night? It could be nothing more than a bizarre twist of fate but the odds on that were increasing by the moment. All in all, it was pretty convincing evidence.
Still, Adam was an empirical thinker, a scientist who liked to—no, needed to—prove theories before he acted on them.
There was only one thing to do.
Run a test.
With steely resolve, he logged in as his alter ego, as Savage.
Katherine shifted in her chair, trying to focus on the pie chart she was manipulating in Excel. She was exquisitely aware of Adam sitting there at his desk across the hall. Their eyes had met—met!—earlier and she’d nearly melted into a puddle when he held her gaze. He hadn’t looked like his usual reserved, friendly self. He’d looked…hungry.
She nibbled on her lip, fiddled with her hair. No. She’d probably just imagined that expression, misconstrued it. They were all a little excited, frazzled over the coming presentation. There was a lot to do and not much time. It was going to be brutal.
As much as she regretted having to cancel with Savage tonight, it was for the best. While she enjoyed their little trysts, things were becoming uncomfortably intense. Last night had been incredible. She’d lost all control of her body and mind, became so mired in the fantasy she’d actually felt as though she was whispering naughty, illicit things to Adam and he was whispering naughty, illicit things right back.
It had affected her so deeply it was dribbling into her real life, her work life. She could practically feel the wall she’d deliberately built between herself and Adam crumbling. Which was dangerous.
And it was all Savage’s fault.
Yes. It was probably for the best that they take a little break.
She glanced down at the screen of her laptop where her message to him hung, a silent testament to her fascination with him. With it. She couldn’t bear to log off, as if this pathetic little message somehow provided a connection with him, even though he wasn’t logged on. Wasn’t even there.
And then suddenly he was.
The chime was soft because she always turned down the volume when she was in the office. One never knew what might come flickering across the screen and she didn’t think it professional to share with all and sundry. Quickly, she hit mute. Ferocious shards of excitement buffeted her at the sight of his name on the screen.
Oh dear. Had she just been thinking she could blithely waltz away?
SAVAGE: Wildkat? Are you there?
WILDKAT: Yes.
SAVAGE: You’re canceling on me tonight?
WILDKAT: I can’t help it. Big project. Gotta work.
SAVAGE: I was looking forward to it.
WILDKAT: Me too.
SAVAGE: Maybe we can play a little now.
WILDKAT: I’m working.
SAVAGE: So am I. But it’s lunchtime here. What time is it there?
She glanced at the clock in the bottom corner of her screen and chuckled.
WILDKAT: Lunchtime.
SAVAGE: Excellent. We have an hour.
Katherine snorted to herself. She never took an hour for lunch, much less when there was a steaming project on the docket. But, she reflected, there was a first time for everything. Besides, if Savage ran true to form, it wouldn’t take an hour.
SAVAGE: Want to switch over to VoIP?
WILDKAT: No way. I’m at work.
SAVAGE: Ah. No privacy, huh?
WILDKAT: Try a wall of windows. How private is that?
SAVAGE: We’ll just have to be subtle. God, Kat. Last night was amazing. I’ve been thinking about you.
WILDKAT: I’ve been thinking about you too.
SAVAGE: What are you wearing?
WILDKAT: Oh. Great job, Savage. Whatever happened to subtle?
SAVAGE: LOL. Don’t worry, Kat. I’ll be subtle when I make you come.
For some reason, she had trouble catching her breath. She shifted in her seat.
WILDKAT: Will you?
SAVAGE: Maybe. If you’re a good girl. Now, why don’t you tell me what you’re wearing?
She glanced down at her outfit in disgust. How she’d like to say she was wearing lace hose and a short leather skirt with a push-up bra and stiletto heels. But she wasn’t.
WILDKAT: Um. A business suit.
SAVAGE: With a blouse?
WILDKAT: Yes. Silk.
SAVAGE: Mmm. What color?
WILDKAT: Beige.
Across the hall, Adam watched the words appear on his screen with a dry mouth. His heart beat like a drum as Wildkat described, to a T, the outfit Katherine was wearing. He watched as she nervously tugged another tendril from her topknot. She stroked it, dragged it along her lips as she typed. His cock clenched at the sight.
A demon rode him as he typed.
SAVAGE: Is he there? In the office?
WILDKAT: Who?
SAVAGE: Come on, Kat. You know who. The mystery man who made you come so hard last night. Is he there? Are you thinking about him?
Katherine’s gaze flicked up, skated across the hall and landed on him. Adam shivered. He forced a friendly, impersonal smile and deliberately returned his attention to his screen.
WILDKAT: Yes.
SAVAGE: Can he see you?
There was a painfully long pause—Adam could tell Katherine was trying not to glance in his direction, lest the heat in her eyes
give her away.
WILDKAT: Yes.
The beating of his heart descended to a dull throb.
It was her.
The exhilaration stole his breath.
SAVAGE: Good. Now, listen closely, Kat. I want you to unbutton the top button on your blouse.
WILDKAT: I can’t, Savage. I’m at work.
SAVAGE: Do it. Just the top button. No one will notice.
Adam watched breathlessly as her fingers drifted down her cheek, down her neck. He swallowed heavily as she nimbly undid the top button. Holy hell, he thought. Could his cock get any harder?
SAVAGE: Now, reach down and stroke your nipples.
WILDKAT: I can’t. God, Savage…
SAVAGE: Do it in a way no one will notice.
Heart hitching, he watched as she picked up a pencil and fiddled with it. It dropped below the desktop so he couldn’t see it but her expression, the way her eyes slid half shut and her lips parted, made it clear the slender toy had made contact.
SAVAGE: Are you doing it?
WILDKAT: Yes.
SAVAGE: How does it feel?
WILDKAT: Good. God. I’m so wet.
SAVAGE: I’m so hard I could pound nails.
WILDKAT: Savage, I really have to go.
He shot a glance in her direction. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips damp. She looked as if she was about to come. Right there. In front of him. The thought made his cock jerk in a sympathetic reaction. He felt a little cum try to spurt out so he clenched his muscles to hold it in. They had to end this soon or he’d be dropping a load right in his Dockers. How awkward would that be?
SAVAGE: Okay, Wildkat, but before you go diddle your pussy in the bathroom—and I know that’s what you’re going to do—I have one more request of you.
WILDKAT: What?
He watched her out of the corner of his eye. She was undulating in her chair, practically twitching with the hunger he’d instilled in her. That thought nearly undid him but he resolutely clenched his balls and typed.
SAVAGE: No more boring beige. Tomorrow I want you to wear something red.
Abruptly, he logged off. As soon as he did, she threw her head back with her eyes closed. This allowed him a moment to study her, to see her as she really was, behind the wall she’d so carefully built. His Katherine. His Wildkat.
She was a hot little piece of ass.
And she was his.
As soon as she disappeared into the ladies’ room, he leapt up and made a beeline for the executive washroom he shared with Tristan and Jack. Just to be sure he had the privacy he knew he was going to need, he locked the door behind him.
His orgasm was nearly immediate. Glorious. Triumphant.
She was his.
Chapter Six
They worked late into the night, all of them staggering around the office, bleary eyed, long after midnight. Adam never even went home. He curled up on the sofa in Tristan’s office and took catnaps when he got too tired to see the words on his computer. His torment over the recent discovery about Katherine didn’t make life any easier—especially when, at the moment, there was nothing he could do about it.
He wasn’t sure he should.
There was that damn rule, after all.
Tristan would have a fit if he broke the rule. Hell, Tristan would have a fit if he bent the rule.
Aw, to hell with Tristan.
It wasn’t his brother’s insistence that they both avoid romantic relationships in the workplace that had him hesitating. If he was honest with himself, he had no intention of honoring that stupid rule anyway. If he could have Katherine splayed before him in carnal bliss right now, he would.
But he knew instinctively it was better to do it right than to do it right now. Forcing a face-to-face confrontation with Katherine would be a disaster.
If he tipped his hand and revealed he was Savage before she was ready to hear it, she would likely perish from embarrassment and cut off all contact. He couldn’t bear the thought. He needed to draw her in. Bring her closer, cement their bond—as Adam and Katherine—before he exposed all his secrets.
Trouble was, he wasn’t a terribly patient man. At least not when it came to Kat.
There was no doubt Katherine Hart required a very special touch. If he wanted to win her, he had to allow her to set the pace. So he, as Savage, would send out challenges. He would watch carefully to see how she responded and then plan his next move. When she was ready to come to him the way a woman comes to a man, he’d know it.
At least he hoped he’d know it.
He’d been deeply gratified when she responded to his dare to fondle herself in the office yesterday. That was a departure for the ever-reserved, workaday Katherine. It gave him hope that the siren nestled deep within her soul—the wild Kat—was eager to emerge.
Today’s challenge was another milestone. An enormous one. If she complied, it would be the sign he’d been waiting for—absolute confirmation that she was Wildkat.
Katherine never wore red. Never wore anything but muted colors, beige and cream and gray, gray, gray. If she wore red today, not only would it confirm her online alias, it would be a sign to Savage that she was willing to submit to his demands, that she fully accepted his dominance in the relationship and understood the rules implicit in their play.
They’d danced around that nuance in their trysts but the undercurrent was always there. It was as though they were skating on the edge of a cliff, longing to leap into the chasm but fearing the fall.
But now the urge to nudge her closer to the precipice was rising. He wanted her. He wanted her beneath him. He wanted her begging beneath him. What’s more, he suspected she craved the same. If she wore red today, he’d know she wanted him to take the next step.
Please God, he sent up a silent prayer. Let her wear red.
Besides, the demon inside him chortled, if he could succeed in getting her to wear red—a color so evocative at its core, so contrary to the façade she liked to present—who knew what he could convince her to wear? Heels? A Wonderbra? No bra?
Maybe he could get her to wear her hair down. Oh. Now there was a fantasy. He could see it spilling, falling in thick, glossy ropes around her shoulders and down her back. How long was it? He had no idea. He’d never seen it down.
A sudden obsession gripped him—the burning desire to yank out the pins and watch that honey hair tumble—but he quickly sloughed it off. Their noon meeting was approaching. The last thing he wanted to do was walk into the boardroom with his binder shielding his crotch like a kid in junior high who’d just discovered porn.
He forced those errant thoughts to the back of his mind and focused on putting the finishing touches on his portion of the presentation. They would merge everyone’s contribution into a seamless whole during the meeting. If past experience held true, it would probably be a long one.
Adam was the first one to the boardroom—after Shannon-of-the-phenomenal-coffee. He set up his laptop at his usual spot, facing the glass windows and the hallway, and laid out the hard copies of his presentation in neat little piles. And he waited.
He nodded to each member of the team as they filed into the room. Tristan and Jack and Jenny. The hands on the clock inched closer and closer to noon—and still no Katherine. He shifted impatiently. Where was she?
At ten minutes after the hour, Adam was beginning to think she wasn’t going to make it. Then the door at the end of the hall opened and Sara and Katherine emerged. His heart set up a mad clatter in his chest.
But when he saw what she was wearing, his heart sank.
It was the same damn suit and blouse she’d been wearing yesterday, though slightly more rumpled. Obviously, she’d never gone home last night. Sharp disappointment welled and he fixed his attention on the table. A dark, heavy, bitter feeling settled in his stomach, an acrid taste filled his mouth.
Had he imagined everything? Had it just been wishful thinking?
Or was she really, truly his Wildkat but just not willing to take the p
lunge with him? Both prospects were equally disheartening. Both caused him to castigate himself as a fool. He’d made too much of this. He’d given it—her—too much meaning, too much importance. He’d sworn he’d never do something so idiotic again, he’d never let himself want someone again—and again, he’d stepped right into the gaping maw of biting disillusion.
Steeped in this wash of emotion and fighting for control over it, Adam didn’t look up as Sara and Katherine came into the room.
“So good of you to join us.” Tristan had never been good at hiding his sarcasm.
“Sorry we’re late,” Sara said breathlessly. “We stayed up all night to finish.”
“All right. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
Adam’s eyes were drawn to Katherine as she stood to hook her laptop to the overhead projector. He didn’t mean to glance at her, much less watch her every move—it was rather painful for him at the moment—but he couldn’t help it. He studied her every move the way a starving man inspects a banquet.
She bent over to plug in a cord and his eyes traced the curve of her ass. She leaned forward to connect the USB and he made note of the way her jacket molded her breasts. She stretched to adjust the presentation screen and…and…
Adam froze as he saw it. A tiny flash of red. It peeped out from beneath her jacket. His heart thumped painfully. His gaze sharpened and his nostrils twitched but Katherine had settled down in front of the computer to run the presentation and the flash of red had disappeared.
Elation swelled within him, along with a certain body part.
The minx. She was wearing red, just not where it was visible.
Come hell or high water, he was going to get her to take off that jacket.
He picked up his coffee mug, stood, stretched and casually wandered over to the beverage bar. Once there, he surreptitiously flipped the thermostat to off, effectively killing the air-conditioning. Biting back his evil grin, he meandered back to the table and resumed his seat.
