While most women bored him after a few dates, this woman did the exact opposite. Every time they were together, there was not only heat and attraction but a deeper connection between them that went beyond sexual tension. He’d realized the night at her place when she was sick and they’d just lain in her bed watching Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, laughing and cuddling together, that what they shared might have started out as a sexfest, but it had morphed into a compatible, intimate relationship that, scarily enough, made him want . . . more.
The fact that he wanted to continue their monogamous relationship should have panicked him, but for the first time in his life, being with a woman felt . . . right. Like he’d found a piece of himself that had been missing, and he never wanted to be without again.
He just wasn’t sure if she felt the same way, and God, the thought of her saying no to more than just sex, to rejecting anything other than an affair with him made his belly roil with nerves and apprehension. He was good enough to fuck . . . but was he good enough for her to date?
Shoving those troubling thoughts from his mind, he leaned back in his leather chair and tapped out a reply. What kind of services are you offering, Minx? There was innuendo all over that question. Deliberately, of course.
She didn’t hesitate with her answer. Anything and everything.
So many filthy, dirty thoughts played through his mind, but he kept his request simple and PG-rated. For now. Well, for starters, I’d like you to pick up my dry cleaning and bring it to me here at the office.
Hmmm . . . The one word was filled with disappointment, and her next message conveyed those feelings. Not quite what I was expecting, but your wish is my command. I won’t be able to get there until six, is that okay? I’m meeting a client at five for a walk-through and can stop by after that.
Actually, that was perfect for what he had in mind. That’s fine, since everyone in the office will be gone by then. Which brings me around to the second thing I want . . . You. On my desk. Panties off, legs spread, and my cock deep inside your pussy. It was a fantasy he’d entertained too many times to count over the years with Natalie in the starring role, and now that he had the chance, he wanted it to be reality.
Sounds like a fantastic way to end the bet. She added a cute little devilish emoticon to the end of the sentence.
End of the bet . . . end of them. The less-than-appealing words in Wes’s head mocked him and tapped into those fucking insecurities he hated so much. He didn’t want anything to end with Natalie, but her last text sounded as though she was having no issues with the end to their fling. And him.
I’ll see you in a few hours, he texted back, then set his phone on his desk and scrubbed his hand down his face. Frustration and uncertainties wreaked havoc with his emotions, and he didn’t know how to deal with the feelings, because he’d never been in this situation with a woman before. He was fucking inept and inadequate when it came to relationships, so did he really have anything to offer Natalie?
His cell phone buzzed, and he picked it up again, swiped it open, and read the message from Natalie.
I thought I’d get a head start on things and give you something to think about until I get there . . .
A photo popped up next, of pale pink silk-and-lace panties dangling from Natalie’s fingertips, and he groaned. Judging by the narrow piece of fabric and thin strings it was attached to, he immediately knew that she was wearing one of those tight skirts that drove him fucking crazy. Hell, his dick was already half-hard just thinking about her walking around for the rest of the day without any underwear on.
He tapped out a quick reply with his thumbs. You’re going to pay for that.
Oh, I hope so. I definitely think a spanking is in order, don’t you?
He let out a strangled laugh as he sent a text back. Hell fucking yeah. My palm is already itching to smack your ass until it’s nice and pink. God, he’d met his match, in ways he didn’t even know were possible. In the most unexpected person and in the most unexpected way.
Their conversation ended, and he immersed himself in work for the rest of the afternoon, which was easy to do since he had a dozen different things on his plate that he needed to get done. Emails. Previewing properties and listings and their online inventory. Signing contracts and documents and leases. Following up on phone calls that needed to be returned.
At ten after five, his secretary popped her head into his office to let him know she was leaving. Max stopped by a few minutes after that and asked if he wanted to go for a drink, which Wes declined, stating he had some things to get caught up on. For the next twenty minutes, Wes listened as the rest of the employees left the building, until everything went quiet.
The following thirty minutes as he waited for Natalie to arrive were the slowest of the day. He took off his suit coat and hung it up and rolled up his shirt sleeves. He completely cleared off the surface of his desk so there’d be nothing to get in the way of Wes fucking her on it as he’d promised. But with every second that passed, his anticipation grew, as did that little ball of nerves in his stomach as he tried to figure out the best way to ask Natalie if she wanted to date him exclusively. Shockingly, the thought didn’t make him break out in a cold sweat. He wanted a chance to figure out what was between them beyond the bet that had put their attraction into motion.
Unless he was really and truly nothing more than her transition guy and she was ready to move on to someone more emotionally able to give of himself and provide what she needed?
Too many questions without any answers. Too many uncertainties that left him feeling restless and fearful that the one woman he truly wanted for more than just a fuck buddy didn’t feel the same way.
For the first time in his adult life, he was standing in the shoes of all the women who’d wanted more from him over the years, while he’d ended things easily and walked away without any regrets. But now he was afraid that he’d be the one left in the dust and picking up the pieces of his . . . shattered heart. Fuck.
He squeezed his eyes shut and sent up a silent prayer. Please, Karma, don’t come back around and kick me in the balls for all my past insensitive behavior with women. I swear, Natalie is the only one who matters, and I don’t want to lose her.
The sound of the main door opening out in the reception area had Wes abruptly standing up behind his desk, his pulse racing with a tangle of nerves . . . until she came into view and everything in his orbit, in this office, calmed as if she belonged there. She walked in, his suits and shirts from the dry cleaners folded neatly over her arm in plastic bags, and hung the laundry on his coatrack just inside his office.
“Close and lock the door,” he ordered huskily. It didn’t matter that it was after hours and no one was around. He wasn’t taking any chances that someone might walk in on what was about to happen.
He’d thought they’d talk first, but the second he saw Natalie, he suddenly wanted her with a fierce hunger that clawed at his insides and made him want to do that stake-his-claim-and-possess-every-inch-of-her thing again that had ended in burning-hot, uncivilized sex. His dick was already throbbing for her, his lust rising, matching the thickening of his cock.
With a raised brow, she did as he asked, securing them inside the office, then started toward him, wearing a hip-skimming, ass-hugging skirt, a pretty button-up silk blouse, and heeled pumps. All professional and proper on the outside and a fucking temptress on the inside.
He lifted his gaze to her beautiful face, taking in the blue eyes that were already dark with desire. He couldn’t read her expression, but right now, in this moment, it didn’t matter what was going on in her mind. She knew what she was walking into. She’d tempted the beast the moment she’d slipped her panties off and sent him a picture of her holding them.
By the time she came around to his side of the desk, his entire body was vibrating with the need to have her. It took supreme effort not to just push her back on his cleared-off desk and take her like a rutting animal—because that’s what she did to
him. Made him feel wild and aggressive and so desperate to be inside of her he could barely think straight.
She blinked at him, much too innocently, and one side of his mouth curled up in a sinful smile. “You know what I want, baby,” he murmured in a low, commanding tone. “You know what I’m waiting for.”
Biting her sexy lower lip, she turned around, shimmied the hem of her skirt up over her hips to her waist, then bent over his desk with her hands braced on top. Her back was arched so sensually, her ass smooth and bare as she looked over her shoulder at him, her gaze heavy-lidded with heat and a forbidden anticipation.
“Spank me, Wes.”
She was waiting for him to play out this fantasy however he wanted, giving him all the control. He stroked his palm over one soft, pale cheek, and when she least expected it, he gave the one side a sharp, stinging slap that made her gasp, then moan for more.
“Such a naughty, naughty Minx.” His minx, he thought possessively, and landed another smack to the other mound. Her skin turned warm and pink, her thighs quivered, and when he slid his fingers between her legs, he exhaled on a harsh moan as he was greeted with her silky-soft, slick arousal. He swore louder when he slid two fingers inside her and she bucked back against his hand.
Abruptly, he turned her around and pushed her back so that she was sitting on his desk, her skirt still bunched around her waist, her legs spread apart just enough for him to glimpse the soft, swollen folds of her sex. He wanted to drop to his knees and worship her like she deserved, but suddenly, they were both pulling at each other’s clothes, the urgency between the two of them like an unstoppable hurricane gathering force.
He nearly ripped open her blouse in his haste to unfasten the buttons, but once they were undone, he shoved the material and her bra straps down her arms until her breasts spilled free—while she impatiently unbuckled his belt, unzipped his pants, and pushed them down his thighs so they were out of the way. His mouth landed on her breasts, sucking, licking, and biting both nipples. She gripped his aching shaft, stroking the length in her palm. Her thumb found the drop of pre-come beading on the tip and used it to lubricate the head.
He gritted his teeth and fumbled to get his wallet out of his pants to retrieve the condom he’d stashed there for a moment like this, and sheathed himself in record time. He hooked his arms around the backs of her knees so that they were draped over the crook of his elbows and spread her legs wide. He gripped her hips in his hands to hold her still, because once he was inside her, he knew there would be no holding back the urgency to make her his in every way imaginable.
“Put my cock where you want it,” he demanded in a voice that sounded as rough and gritty as sandpaper. “Where I fucking need it.”
She whimpered anxiously and guided the crown of his shaft through her slick folds, bathing it in her slippery heat until he was poised at the entrance to her body. He pushed in, penetrating that tight opening just a few inches while Natalie flattened her hands behind her on the desk, as if knowing to brace herself for his first brutal thrust inside her.
With a hard jerk of his hips, he slammed so deep she cried out and he shuddered from the jarring impact before he started moving in earnest, the rhythm hard and fast and out of control. She felt like coming home, like fucking bliss—and he wasn’t the kind of guy who waxed poetic about sex. But this . . . being inside of Natalie was sublime, and he knew without any doubts that nothing else would ever compare.
His eyes traveled from where they were joined so intimately and moved upward, taking in the way her naked breasts bounced with every brutal stroke and the beautiful flush that swept up her neck and colored her cheeks. Her lips were parted, and he locked his gaze onto hers so that she could see exactly what she did to him, how she drove him to the brink, and how much he needed her.
He was beyond desperate for her to feel the same.
He powered back into her, knowing by her soft gasp that the exquisite ache building inside of him wasn’t just one-sided. But he wanted verbal proof, needed her to acknowledge it, too.
“Feel that, Natalie?” he rasped, the punishing pace of his thrusts ensuring she’d be sore for the next day. “Feel me inside of you? Fucking you? Filling you, over and over?”
Her eyes glazed over with ecstasy. “Yes. Oh, God, yes,” she whispered, the slight catch to her voice telling him that she was as close to climaxing as he was.
“I want to hear you scream my name when you come,” he ordered, doubling his efforts to push her over the edge, his cock so hard and thick he knew the magnitude of his release was going to supersede all others. “Nobody is here, baby. It’s just you and me and this.”
As if he’d given her permission to let loose, she chased after her orgasm, and he watched and felt as it swept her up in its fury and she screamed his name so loudly it made his ears ring with the passionate, uninhibited sound.
The perfect, wet silk of her pussy clasping his cock and the openly vulnerable look in her eyes made him weak in the knees. The connection between them went beyond the physical, and he felt as though he’d been stripped bare, his heart no longer just his. The sight of Natalie giving herself over to him so willingly caused his own climax to surge through him, the hot rush of it so fucking powerful it stole the breath from his lungs and made him collapse on top of her in a heap.
His face was buried in the crook of her neck, and they were both breathing hard. Eventually, he lifted his head and smiled down at her, and while she returned the gesture, there was a guarded look in her eyes that reminded him why she was here, or why she thought she was here . . . to indulge in one last tryst and to end their two-week bet.
They needed to talk, but he needed a moment . . . to get rid of the condom and to clear his head so he could think straight. He moved away from her and helped her down from the desk, and she immediately tugged the hem of her skirt to cover herself, the euphoria they’d both just enjoyed quickly dissipating. He could see and feel her emotionally withdrawing, replacing the smart-alecky, straightforward woman he’d spent the last two weeks with, and had fallen hard for, with a far too serious demeanor.
“I’ll be right back, so don’t go anywhere,” he said lightly, trying to keep calm until he figured out what was going on with her.
He went into the bathroom that adjoined his office and quickly cleaned up, washed his hands, and tucked everything back in. When he returned, he half expected her to be gone, but thank God, she was still there. She was no longer behind his desk. She’d moved over to the windows overlooking the city, her arms crossed over her chest as if she was trying to protect herself from something, but he had no idea what.
He joined her, hating the tangible walls she’d put up. She was probably preparing herself for him to end things, as they’d agreed—as he’d always dealt with his relationships—but it was the furthest thing from what he had in mind. He’d just spent the absolute best two weeks with a woman he’d known for most of his life. His best friend’s little sister, his business adversary, his frenemy, and the thought of dating her exclusively for the foreseeable future didn’t make him break out in hives. In fact, it made him feel . . . complete.
He quietly exhaled a deep breath. “Natalie . . . I was hoping we could talk.”
She shook her head, and when her gaze met his, his gut twisted at the sadness he saw glimmering in the depths. “Actually, there’s something I need to tell you first.”
Whatever she had to say, he suddenly didn’t want to hear it, because his entire body was telling him to brace for the worst. But even if she believed they were through, he still had the chance to change her mind about them, right?
“Okay,” he said, shoving his hands deep into the front pockets of his slacks. Ladies first and all that.
“A few weeks ago, a recruiter contacted me about a position with a high-profile realty firm in Atlanta that was interested in hiring me, based on my current portfolio,” she said. “It’s a small, privately owned company with room for advancement and great benefits, and i
t’s exactly the kind of move I’m looking to make in my career. I’m letting them know on Monday that I’m taking the job.”
He felt blindsided, though he shouldn’t have been. She’d always been honest about her aspirations, in business and with her desire to be in a committed relationship with a man that led to marriage and babies—which he’d blatantly scorned that night they’d discussed his parents’ marriage and subsequent nasty divorce.
With every word she spoke, his confidence spiraled and his hopes dwindled. A job offer wasn’t something he could compete with—hell, he’d already turned down her desire to work for Premier Realty—and why would she stay with him, a player with no real track record with women, when she’d been offered a sure thing? Yeah, he’d gone into this affair knowing he was her transition guy, but fuck, it hurt.
“When?” he asked, forcing the question out.
“In about a month,” she replied softly, a sudden moisture in her eyes. “I’ll need time to pack up and move, to sell my place . . .”
Don’t go. The plea got stuck in his throat, not because he was afraid to speak the words but because he knew he didn’t have the right to ask her to stay.
“They’ll be lucky to have you,” he said instead, and could have sworn she flinched at what he’d meant as a compliment.
“Thanks.” She gave him a half-hearted smile, her voice tight with the unshed tears he saw in her eyes. “I need to go.”
When she turned around and walked away, he didn’t try and stop her, but his aching heart knew she was taking a piece of him with her. That he’d never be the same once she walked out of his office, out of his life.
She opened the door and gasped in shock to find her brother, Connor, standing out in the hallway. As soon as he saw his sister and what was probably anguish on her face, his own expression turned protective . . . and fucking furious.
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