by Poppy Drake
Then he says my name. So low I’m not sure at first. I think maybe it’s just another groan. But then I hear it again. “Ren,” he rasps. I panic for a wild second. Does he know I’m here? First, I broke in. Now, I’m ogling him. I’ve invaded this man’s privacy in heinous ways.
I realize he’s saying my name while he strokes himself. My tongue goes dry. My nipples tighten. My pussy is so hot it’s about to incinerate my dress.
He’s going to know I broke in. Maybe he’ll even surmise why I did it. Oh well. I have to taste him. I can’t really think about much else anymore. I’m sort of on automatic pilot at this point.
He must hear me move. He opens his eyes. We lock gazes.
“I still have a key,” I breathe.
Then I drop to my knees, shrugging out of my clothes as quickly as I can.
“I’m sorry, Ren.”
“Just shut up,” I murmur against his cock. It practically pulses into my mouth of its own accord. I swirl my tongue around the tip, and I hear him hiss. I travel up and down his shaft, getting him lubed. I pause with my tongue to palm him, spreading the slickness all over his cock.
“Please, Ren,” he says. It’s no more than a whisper. A moan.
“Please, what?” I remember how he did this to me the other night. It wasn’t that long ago, after all.
He growls, a low sexy noise in the back of his throat. “Suck my cock.”
I oblige, taking as much of him in my mouth as I can handle. His warmth invades me. His clean, spicy scent fills my nostrils. I can’t get enough. I begin a rhythm. He cups the back of my head. I suck a little harder. He gasps and pulls at my hair. I moan against his cock. “Yes. Fuck my mouth. Fuck it until you come down my throat.”
He can’t respond. All he can do is fuse his jaw and pump his hips. I reach my hands around to palm his thighs, loving the way the muscles clench as he drives himself deeper and deeper into my mouth.
“Touch yourself,” he says raggedly. “I want us to come together.”
I’m only too happy to oblige, because I need to ease this ache building inside me. Giving Lucas this kind of dirty pleasure is so…fucking hot…I’m about to burn up myself. I press my fingers to my clit, working it, and soon enough, I’m moaning against his cock, taking each one of his thrusts to the back of my throat and loving every second of it.
Chapter Twelve
I’m about to come down her throat. All over her face. On those perfect tits. But then I realize this may be the last time I ever see her. Even this visit is an unexpected blessing. I’d been in the middle of changing my clothes when I realized the physical release I craved wasn’t from weights and the treadmill. I needed to come while I thought about Ren. And since I’d never have the chance to make love to her again, I’d probably be jerking off and saying her name pretty frequently in the foreseeable future.
Then she was here. I don’t know why. Right now I don’t care. But I’m not going to waste my orgasm in her mouth when I could have her riding me to completion. I reach down and lift her to me. She looks surprised, even disappointed, but the emotion disappears from her gaze in an instant when she realizes my intention.
I position her over my lap, and she straddles me readily. I grasp her buttocks and squeeze them gently. “Ride me,” I urge her. My feet are still on the floor. I use the extra leverage to impale her. Our first time, I would have worried about being more gentle. Now I know it’s not a concern with Ren. She’ll take what I can give, and enjoy every second of it. I stifle a groan as I sink into her, but she immediately begins a rhythm I can’t keep quiet about. Moving her hips like pistons, she grinds forward, still managing with her strong thighs to move up and down the length of my cock at the same time.
“Ren,” I moan. I realize she’s punishing me, in the only way available to her. Showing me what I’ll miss. What I’ve cost myself. She cups her breasts and uses her slim fingers to pinch her own nipples. My balls tighten. She’s smiling with those scarlet lips, knowing full well what she’s doing to me. That won’t do. If she’s going to rob me of my pride, I’ll at least give her a mind-blowing orgasm while she’s doing it.
I cup her ass, then begin stroking as I did the other night. She immediately stops smiling. Though she’s already wet, I can feel a rush of moisture seep over my cock. She knows what comes next. One quick, sharp slap. Then a soothing caress.
She goes wild.
“Oh, Lucas! Yes. Smack my ass.” Mission accomplished. She’s as desperate as I am now, her hips thrusting even more quickly.
I oblige, laying one more sting on the other cheek. Her rhythm is no longer measured. It’s frantic. She’s leaning in, working her clit against my navel, desperate for friction.
“Come for me, Renata.”
And she does. And this time it’s her moaning my name in my ear, over and over again. The most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard. My name on the lips of the woman I love while she’s coming.
I cup her ass one more time, pushing upwards, thrusting toward my own release. As I spill into her, I can’t help thinking that somehow, someway, this won’t be the last time I make love to this woman.
I’m not sure how I’ll accomplish it yet. But what was only supposed to be one time has already turned into two.
That’s got to count for something.
I haven’t completely forgotten all reason, though. “What were you doing in here, anyway?”
She moves away from me swiftly, snatching her rumpled clothes from the floor. She starts shrugging on her dress, far too quickly for my liking. Avoiding my gaze, using her silky hair as cover, she says, “You gave me a key, remember?”
“I do remember, and as I recall, you were hesitant to use it, even when I invited you. You knocked on the door the other night. Something tells me you didn’t just waltz in here to give me—and my cock—a surprise.” I clasp her waist, preventing her from pulling the dress any higher. “Spill it.”
She exhales loudly. Throws up her arms in an expressive gesture and sits next to me on the bed, making the mattress bounce. “Fine. I’ll tell you. And I’m not going to feel guilty about it, because you deserve it.”
“Why don’t I be the judge of that?”
She rolls her eyes. Unfortunately for her, that only makes me want to kiss her eyelids. “I thought you’d be in the gym. I just wanted to take a peek at your plans. Not steal them or anything. I needed to see if they really are better than mine.”
“And?” I’m not sure what I want her answer to be. I take pride in my work, but hell, I take pride in hers, too. There are no losers in this situation.
“Yours are better,” she says quietly.
“I find that hard to believe.” Immediately, instinctively, I rush to her defense, even though it’s at my own expense. Even though Walter chose Fields Unlimited, and he wouldn’t have done that if he didn’t prefer my plans.
“Oh, I don’t mean that mine aren’t fantastic,” she hurries to amend. “Because they are. But yours are better suited to Walter’s tastes. I know together, you’ll achieve the perfect space for Simmons Corporation.” She stands. Holds out her hand to me. “I concede, Lucas. I deserved to lose. The better man won. I put my own vision before my client’s needs, and I reaped what I sowed.”
I stare at her hand. Those lovely, elegant fingers that so recently grasped my cock.
“I’m not ready to say good-bye yet, Ren.”
Chapter Thirteen
I don’t want to say it either, but what other choice do I have? Conceding that Lucas deserves this project is one thing. Entertaining the idea that we could have a relationship while he works on the job of my dreams is another matter entirely.
There’s also something I have to know. “Why interior design? Why, when you have one of the most successful architectural firms in the city, if not the country, with offices in Canada and Mexico, are you pursuing this kind of project? It’s not going to make your company a lot of money, not by your standards, anyway. You don’t even have a department for
it, which, I’m assuming, is why you came yourself, and didn’t send a representative.”
I want to say henchman, but I guess that would be a little over the top. Meanwhile, the ‘paltry’ amount of money Lucas would earn is enough to launch me as one of Chicago’s most sought-after interior designers. I could afford a new studio with prime real estate and maybe even hire an assistant.
“I came myself because they’re my designs,” Lucas says. The heat in his eyes could scorch the mattress. He’s angry, though I have no idea why. If anyone deserves to be furious, it’s me. “And I bid the project because interior design is my passion, and I’m finally in a position with my company to take risks on small ventures that, let’s face it, aren’t so profitable.”
“Oh.” It’s all I can manage in response.
He glides off the bed, his dark eyes pinning me in place so I can’t move. He’s in panther mode again. “Which is why, when I met you, I felt an instant connection. It went deeper than your beauty, although that’s hard to deny. We share the same passions. For our work. For searching for beauty in the everyday. I love your wit. Your sparkle. I love you, Ren. You’re everything I could ever want. You can see why I couldn’t walk away from you.”
Tears are clouding my vision again, just as they did last night at the restaurant. This time, though, I really can’t storm off. Lucas has me pinned between his arms, his massive, corded muscles daring me to try to escape his gaze. I swallow, trying to get rid of the painful lump in my throat.
“Then I guess I’ll have to be the one to walk away,” I say quietly. Gently. After all, I don’t want to hurt him. That’s not my intention. “You can see, can’t you, how it would be impossible for me to watch you go to work each day at Simmons Corporation, and pretend I’m OK with it? That I’m not breaking inside?”
“We can make this work,” he says. He’s so focused, so intense, for a moment, I believe him. Or at least, I want to. “If you walk out that door, Ren, I’ll always regret it. And I think you will, too.”
Maybe. Even though I’ve only known him for a few days, I can say for certain I’ll never meet another lover like him. Never be touched like that again. My pulse won’t race like it does now, under the heat of his gaze.
But what I also know for certain is that my self-respect won’t survive any attempt at a relationship. I’ve forgiven him—almost, anyway—for not revealing his identity our first night together. I believe him when he tells me he wanted me so much, he gave in to his baser instincts and concealed the truth. Would I have slept with him if I’d known he was Lucas Fields?
Hell no.
Knowing what I know now, would I regret the missed opportunity?
Absolutely.
But it’s not enough to build a relationship on. At the end of the day, I have to be able to give myself to him completely. To trust him, respect him, and most importantly, respect myself. I can’t do that when he’s stolen the greatest opportunity of my life. I know now he didn’t set out to target me, to exploit me. That despite his millions, and the power of his company behind him, he wanted to win this project as much as me. But that doesn’t change this one fact.
I shake my head. “I can’t sit by and watch you take all I ever wanted, Lucas. No matter how much I want you.”
I have trouble reading the expression in his liquid brown eyes, but if I had to guess, I’d say he looks…defeated. His arms slacken at my sides.
“Go then, Ren.”
It’s as though his mind’s already somewhere else. He’s broody. Distracted. I don’t know what I expected. Anger? For him to shout? To insist we could make this work?
Perhaps that’s what a small part of me wants.
None of me is OK with this sudden, distant reserve that’s come over him. It’s like I’m practically not there anymore, like I’ve disappeared already, when he says quietly, “Good-bye, Ren.”
Like he’s forgotten about me already.
Chapter Fourteen
Ren storms out of the elevator, into the entryway of the top floor of Walter’s new building. She’s full of righteous fury and indignation when she spots me loitering by a cluster of old cubicles. As she should be, truth be told. She’s wearing the same black sheath she wore the first night I met her, probably because she didn’t have additional clothes packed that were suitable for a meeting, so she had to re-wear this one. I don’t mind. Actually, it’s my particular favorite, since it’s the first one I saw her take off.
She stalks over, and I’m amazed her stilettos don’t catch in the shaggy brown carpet. “You’re lucky I got your e-mail before I finished checking out,” she says. “Why did Walter want to meet with us both again?” Ren’s full lips turn down in confusion. “I was due to take the eleven o’clock train. My cat had enough food and water for two nights, and my neighbor was due to check in, but I still get anxious. I want to get home and make sure she’s OK.”
“I may have lied. It’s not actually Walter who asked for the meeting. It was me. That was a ruse to get you here. Wait, you have a cat?”
“Yes. And that’s so not pertinent right now. Why are you putting me through even more torment? Just when I was convinced you were a decent guy, and we’re just star-crossed, you go and drag me through the mud for another round. I don’t need a side-by-side comparison in front of Walter yet again.”
“I’m more of a dog person myself, but I could grow to like a cat, I guess. As long as she had a canine companion, of course.” Ren looks at me like I’m a snake she’s found in the garden. Or a cockroach on her silk sheets. That’s fine. I just hope she likes dogs, too. Because once I’ve made her mine, we’ll be acquiring one to keep the cat company.
“Listen, Lucas. I have no idea why you called this meeting, but I’m out of here. I’m under no obligation to you. If it was Walter, it would be a different story.” She hefts her traveling bag over her shoulder, making ready to walk back out the door to the elevator.
“Careful. I know just how to get you to agree to what I want. And since Walter’s not due to be here for another hour, I have plenty of time to…convince you.”
She looks concerned. As she should. “I’m not sure what exactly you’re talking about, although I detect some innuendo. Which has absolutely no place in a cubicle, by the way.”
“Let me spell it out for you, then. It involves you, bent over this desk, with that sexy little dress around your hips, and me paddling your ass.”
Her face drains of all color. I watch her knuckles clench by her sides. But I would bet the considerable amount of money I have in Chicago Heritage Bank that it’s not because she’s angry. “You wouldn’t dare.”
She’s breathing heavier. There’s color rising in her cheeks. I don’t think. I just act. I grab her by the arms, usher her behind the cubicle, where no one will see us if they happen to arrive in the elevator, even though I don’t anticipate this occurring. I spin her around, so her back is to me, and push her against the desk. I hold every inch of her to me, sweep aside her hair, and press kisses to the back of her neck. “Bend over,” I tell her, moving to the hem of her dress.
“We shouldn’t,” she says, but her voice is a gasp. A whisper. She can barely utter the words. She’s practically moaning already.
“Tell me you don’t want it,” I say, tugging at her hair while I unbutton my pants.
“I can’t do that. You know I want it,” she says. She splays her hands on the edge of the desk and kicks apart her feet. I finish rolling her dress up to her waist, exposing her round ass for my inspection. As usual, no underwear. As usual, perfection. Her heels are still on, making her the perfect height for me to enter her. Making her sexy as hell.
I reach a finger down into her slit. She’s already wet, ready for me. I enter her from behind with one long stroke. The sound she makes is guttural, primal. Beautiful. This is going to be quick, hard, and dirty. I hold onto her ass so hard I leave marks. Pushing back from the table, she meets each one of my thrusts with one of her own. I clench my teeth, knowing
I’m almost there, trying to time it right. Because with just one spank of my hand, she’ll go off like a firework. After just a few days, it seems like I know her body like the back of my hand.
My balls tighten. I’m almost there. I want to feel her tight pussy hugging my cock while I drain into her. “Come for me, Renata,” I command. I deliver one smack to her right ass cheek, and I feel her clench around me, her orgasm engulfing me.
We finish together, doing our best to keep our hoarse cries quiet as we surrender to each other.
When we’re done, I fish out the silk handkerchief I keep in my pocket and wipe her down gently. I don’t want to meet her gaze, because I’m afraid of what I’ll find there. Regret? Sadness? I couldn’t bear it. Instead, as I help her pull down her dress, I simply say, “I’m not giving you up, Ren.”
“It’s just not that easy, Lucas.”
“Come with me to the conference room. You’ll see that it is.”
She trails behind me, and we both take a seat at the table. She wrinkles her nose.
“You noticed it, too, huh?” I say. “That table was out of style in 1975. And I think it was probably manufactured in 1986.”
She laughs. I’m immediately addicted to the sound of her joy. I want to make sure I hear it for the rest of my life. More importantly, I want to be the one making her happy for all the years to come. “It’s a crime that a table older than both of us is still being used in this room.”
“What kind of table would you propose?” The question comes, not from me, but Walter, who’s finally arrived. Not that I would have wished him to arrive a minute sooner. Despite our concealment behind the cubicle, we weren’t all that subtle.
“I’m glad you asked, Walter, because that’s exactly why I invited you here today.” Ren’s face registers shock. Understandably. I literally stole the answer right out of her mouth. But she’ll see why, in just a minute. “During the last project we worked on together—the design and construction of your Fort Wayne building—I explained to you how much I love interior design. You supported me. Encouraged me to develop my own department in Lucas Unlimited…and that’s exactly what I’m going to do, with Ren as the head of the division.”
