by Donya Lynne
Tonight has been more of the same.
Greyson and I simply can’t be in the same place at the same time without being drawn together like we’re interlocking pieces of a puzzle.
And the way he fits me so perfectly, in a way no man has ever fit before, I’d say he’s definitely an interlocking puzzle piece.
The restroom door opens. I hear voices. Two women.
Greyson stills.
No!
“Don’t stop,” I whisper urgently against his mouth, even more turned on now that the risk of being caught has increased.
His breath is coming in staccato bursts and a trickle of sweat slides down his temple. “I’m about to come.”
One of the women enters the center stall—the one next to ours—and the other enters the last one. I can still hear them talking, using loud voices to be heard through the wall separating them.
“So am I.” I rock my pelvis against him. “Don’t stop.”
Eyes flaring, he begins fucking me again, pumping his hips into mine, more restrained than before, but it’s enough to stimulate my pending orgasm back into a crescendo.
“Fuck,” he whispers abruptly.
His jaw clenches. His expression tightens as his brow scrunches with determination, and he shifts his grip to wrap his arms under my thighs, pressing his hands against the wall on either side of me, supporting me on his forearms.
This new position forces my legs to open wider as his pace quickens. He’s thrusting, cursing under his breath, body rigid.
And I’m with him. My pussy contracts, and we both groan at once.
“Did you hear that?” says one of the women, now at the sinks.
“No, what?”
“Sshh. Listen.”
But Greyson and I are too far gone to care. We’re already riding the wave up to the pinnacle, our orgasms beyond the point of no return just like we are.
“Fuck, fuck, oh fuck,” Greyson’s gaze burns into mine.
His eyes are the only things grounding me. His harsh grip on my body is the only thing keeping me from taking flight.
“I don’t hear anything,” says the other woman.
I hear running water. It’s gushing from the faucet.
Gushing.
The way I’m about to gush all over Greyson’s cock.
I’ve been known to squirt, and I’m shocked I didn’t Saturday night. Probably the long dry spell I’ve endured. I’ve only ever squirted with Phil. Until Greyson, he was the only man to stimulate me enough to squirt. But tonight. Oh yeah, I’m definitely going to squirt.
“It was probably nothing,” says the first women. “I’m probably just hearing things in my old age.” The women laugh.
She wasn’t hearing things, and if she and her friend don’t leave soon, they’re going to hear a whole lot more. I’m not sure I won’t be able to hold in the squeal working its way up through my throat. Something about squirting orgasms demands me to make a lot of noise. I’ve been known to scream.
“I’m coming,” Greyson whispers against my lips.
He’s fucking me, pounding into me, but I can tell he’s still holding back. I think he’s still afraid he’s hurting me, even though I told him he isn’t. I want him to let go. To completely unleash. To destroy my body with sensation and ruthless sexual brutality.
Some other night. I’ll make him see how much I want him the next time we’re together.
Right now, this is good enough. Right now, I’m about to let go.
The wave crests, and I feel my orgasm filling me.
“Fuck!” Greyson growls, and he’s coming. He’s twitching inside me, feeding my orgasmic frenzy.
I can’t hold back. The cry releases from my throat as my body falls into violent tremors. My pussy convulses around Greyson’s cock, clenching and releasing him as my ejaculate trickles out around him as he continues thrusting through his orgasm.
I think I might black out. The room spins and goes foggy for a second, and then I’m coming again. This is how squirting affects me. I become a vortex of nonstop orgasms. As long as Greyson continues to stimulate me, the orgasms will continue coming, and I’ll keep right on squirting through each one.
I hope he doesn’t mind getting a little wet.
I cry out again, and another volley of vicious twitching travels up and down my body.
Greyson seems oblivious to what’s happening to me, too caught up in his own release to notice that I’ve become a gushing faucet of female ejaculate. Will he freak? Will he be grossed out? A lot of men find squirting highly arousing, but some men think it’s disgusting. I hope Greyson is the former.
“What the . . .?” Greyson glances down, finally coming back to his senses enough to realize I’m leaking all around him, dripping onto the floor. He pulls out of me abruptly, and as he does, he releases another orgasm. I cry out and slap my hand over my pussy, pulling back the hood from my clit as a spritz of ejaculate shoots out of me.
“Jesus!” His eyes flash wide, and he wavers, weaving forward and back briefly, staring down at me as if he’s found the Fountain of Youth. For a moment, I think he’s going to fall to his knees and clamp his mouth over me. Instead, he pushes me against the wall again and seals his mouth over mine in a breathless, all-consuming kiss.
My arms and legs are weak, knees trembling, lungs working hard to feed my starved muscles with oxygen.
Greyson’s lips disengage from mine. “Do you know how fucking hot that is? How goddamn sexy?” He glances down then runs his palm between my legs before kneeling and sucking my sensitive clit into his mouth.
I nearly topple over as his fingers dip inside me, triggering one final mini orgasm. My knees quake as a trickle of ejaculate escapes me.
He moans, and his tongue does dirty, delicious things to me as he laps up the remnants of my release, making me gasp.
Holy fuck. Not only does he appear to be a man who gets off on female ejaculate, he appears to be a connoisseur.
“Mmmm.” He grins and slowly rises to his feet, running his fingers up and down my labia again. “I like. A lot.” His chin is wet, and he wipes the back of his hand over it.
Outside our stall, the restroom door quietly closes, and we both freeze, eyes shooting open wide. We both forgot about our audience. Those two women heard everything.
Everything!
I giggle and cover my mouth with my hand. “Oh shit.”
Greyson laughs and pulls his hand from between my legs. Licking his lips and flashing me a wry, just-wait-until-the-next-time-I-fuck-you look, he bends and starts pulling up his pants.
I do the same after straightening my blouse, and begin fastening them around my waist. The fabric is wet, and my panties are lying in a tattered, useless heap a couple of feet away.
“What is it about us and bathrooms?” I say, helping him button his shirt.
He laughs breathlessly, his fingers dancing around mine as we hastily pull ourselves back together. “I have no idea, but this is becoming a pattern.” He leaves his collar unbuttoned. “But you have to admit, we’re good in bathrooms.”
Laughing, I grab his suit coat from the hook on the door while he reties his tie.
Remnants of my release slick the floor, and as he shrugs into his jacket, I unroll a wad of toilet paper and began mopping it up with my foot. He helps, and within seconds, the floor is mostly dry.
“Do I look okay?” I take a step back, holding my hands out to my sides.
His gaze rakes me up and down. “Honestly, you look good enough to eat.”
I tilt my head. “You know what I mean.”
He grins and steps closer, sliding his hands over my hips. “You look fine. No one will ever know how thoroughly I just defiled you.”
“Defiled?” I grin. “And you’re wrong. Those women know.”
“I doubt they’ll utter a word of what they heard in here.” He winks, drops a simmering, postcoital kiss on my lips, and steps back. “How about me? Do I look presentable?”
His suit i
s a little wrinkled, and I got some of my release on his pants, but it’s nothing that will be noticeable as we leave.
“You look like the cat who ate the canary.”
He arches one brow and licks his full lips. “Which makes it all the more frustrating I hardly got to eat a thing.”
Now he’s just teasing me. “You ate dinner.”
His eyes narrow and he steps into me again, caressing my hips and sides. “You know what I want to eat, Katherine, and it isn’t dinner.”
Oh my.
Greyson seems to be coming into his own. I think seeing that I can squirt unlocked a part of his libido he didn’t know existed, and I get the feeling that the next time we have sex, I’m going to see a whole different side of him. The side that might fuck me harder than I’ve ever been fucked.
My insides vibrate at the thought.
“Next time, then,” I say, holding his gaze.
“Definitely next time.” He kisses me again, and his mouth lingers. Then he breaks away and motions to the door. “You go first. See if we’re alone.”
As he stands to the side, I unlock the stall door and peek out then check the other two stalls. “We’re alone.” I open the outer door then call back quietly, “The coast is clear.”
He slips out of the stall, quickly washes his hands, and together, we hurry out of the restroom and head toward the front of the restaurant.
My face is flushed and hot, and my quick steps are unsteady.
Greyson takes my hand, and I’m grateful for the extra support he provides.
I smile up at him. He’s watching me out of the corner of his eye and grins back. We’re like horny teenagers who almost got caught having sex by our parents. I feel young again, reckless and daring, and I can tell he feels the same way.
Outside, he walks me to my red Audi.
“I certainly hadn’t planned on that happening tonight,” he says with a chuckle.
That’s when it hits me. He thought he was going to meet my father tonight, not me.
The original purpose of tonight’s meeting slams into me like a hurricane-force wind. Tonight was supposed to have been about talks of mergers and acquisitions. About two CEOs discussing the possibility of one buying the other’s company. But like a sex-starved adolescent, I couldn’t resist him. I simply couldn’t behave like a responsible, professional adult.
How could I have been so reckless? So harebrained? So damned irresponsible?
I take two backward steps away from him, lowering my gaze. “What am I doing?” I mutter.
He quiets, and I sense his confusion. “What’s wrong?” He takes a step toward me.
“No, Greyson.” I hold up my hand, backing away. “We can’t do this.”
“What do you mean?”
I look up at him. “Do I really have to spell it out?”
He frowns and pulls back. “I don’t understand.”
I gesture toward the restaurant. “You thought you were going to meet my father here tonight, Greyson. You want to buy Freedom Cycle. What are we doing having sex when we’re supposed to be negotiating terms of a sale?”
It’s his turn to hold up his hand. “Whoa, wait a minute. We’re not negotiating anything. You said you weren’t interested in selling.”
That’s right. I did say that. Oops.
“Well, maybe now I am. I don’t know. After what you said in there”—I gesture toward the restaurant again—“you made me think we at least need to discuss it.” I’m not too proud to admit that his offer holds some merit, especially if he intends to keep Freedom’s infrastructure in place.
The corners of his mouth tick upward, but he’s still wearing a subtle frown. “Okay, so what does this mean? You’re not going to get involved with me if there’s the possibility that my offer to buy your company is still on the table?”
I work my bottom lip between my teeth, not liking my options. What Greyson and I have—even though it’s only just started—is more real than any other relationship I’ve experienced. He feels more right than Phil ever did. And there’s no denying how incredible the sex is.
We’re good together.
No, we’re great together. We’re like Cupid and Psyche, destined to be together despite the obstacles meant to keep us apart.
But this obstacle is too big to overcome. If my staff learns I’m fucking the CEO of the company trying to buy mine, feathers could ruffle. Backs could turn on me. They’d suspect I’m trying to save my own ass while throwing their asses in the fire. I can’t risk such a coup so soon after taking over.
And what about his staff? His attorneys would certainly advise him that having a sexual relationship with me could jeopardize everything. Not just the deal, but also his personal and professional reputation.
But my reputation would take a bigger hit than his. The woman always becomes the bigger fall guy. And since I’ve only just inherited my role as CEO, I’ll be especially targeted. Gossip and criticism of my apparent lack of judgment would ripple through the industry, poisoning my relationships with vendors and customers.
My desire to sleep with Greyson could have a longstanding or even permanent negative impact on Freedom’s bottom line.
Is the sex worth it?
“We shouldn’t do this,” I suggest, hating the ache that blooms in my chest as I say it. “We can’t, Greyson.”
He snaps to attention. “What? No. No, Katherine.”
“Think about it, Greyson. The heads of two companies who are in merger negotiations while fucking each other silly doesn’t look good, especially if things don’t work out.”
To compound matters, I’m still committed to ending our fling at the end of summer. What happens then? How will we be able to work together if I decide to sell Freedom to him?
Our relationship just took on a shit load of complexity I hadn’t planned for when I cozied up to him Saturday night. My summer flings aren’t supposed to be this complicated. They’re meant to be simple, easy, and straightforward. Easy to get out of, too. Nothing about Greyson has been any of those things, and it’s only going to get worse if I try to make this work, even though the thought of walking away is killing me.
My head is pulling me one direction and my libido another. And let’s face it, my heart isn’t allowed to have a dog in this fight. But if it did, my heart would be siding with my libido.
Greyson sighs, raking his hand through his hair as if he’s frustrated and searching for a solution. “I don’t want to stop seeing you, Katherine.”
“I don’t want to stop seeing you, either, but—”
“Then don’t do this.”
“Greyson . . .” I sigh. “Do you still plan on pursuing my company?”
His intense gaze burns into mine with the resolve of a hungry lion eyeing a lame zebra. “Yes.”
“Then we have to end this.” I gesture back and forth between us. “We can’t continue seeing each other. It’s the smart thing to do.”
The random thought that this would be so much easier if I were stupid runs through my thoughts before I show it the door and kick its ass out of my brain.
“We’ll still see each other, Katherine. We have to, to discuss terms.”
“Then let me clarify. We can’t continue having sex.”
He lets out an amused but frustrated huff. “Can you really call what we just did having sex?”
I try not to smile, because I can tell where he’s going with this. “What would you call it?”
“Fucking. Crazy, insane, addicted-to-you fucking.”
I stifle a soft laugh, because he’s right. We don’t have sex. We don’t make love. We fuck. And I’m already as addicted to him as he just claimed to be to me. Like I said before, we seem to bring the primal out of one another.
“Okay, fine.” I bite back a smile. “We can’t continue fucking when we’re talking about merging our companies.”
“What if we don’t merge?”
“Then we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”
&nbs
p; But I know we won’t. Now that he’s captured my professional curiosity, negotiations will last well into summer, if not into fall. By then, Christian and Rose will be home, and the window for my summer fling will have closed.
My last summer fling. Because I already know I won’t do this again next year. Partly because I don’t want to, and partly because Greyson has ruined me for other men. Just knowing he’s out there will be enough to prevent me from wanting anyone else for a long time.
He seems to sense the direction of my thoughts, because he lets out a gruff sigh as he rolls his head back. His body language is that of a man who feels helpless and frustrated, as if he knows this situation isn’t one he can control.
“And what if our companies do merge?” he says. “Then what?”
“Do you really think that will change anything?”
His jaw sets determinedly. “I’m not one to give up when it comes to fighting for what I want, Katherine, and right now, I want you.”
“I’m not for sale,” I say quietly, taking his hand. “Greyson, please don’t make this harder than it already is.”
He sighs, and it sounds like the weight of the universe just fell onto his shoulders. He turns and props his back end on the side of my car and drops his gaze to our joined hands as he laces his fingers around mine. “I really wanted to prove I could behave myself the next time I saw you.” He boyishly peeks up at me.
I quietly park myself beside him. “I know. So did I.”
He smiles sadly. “Behaving isn’t something we’re able to do with each other, is it?”
I shake my head and let out a soft laugh. “I’m beginning to think that the chemistry between us is larger than we are.”
Still holding my hand, he faces me, and I feel the urgency in his touch as he shifts his hold on my hand, wrapping his around mine. “Then don’t end this.”
“Greyson . . .” I should have known he wouldn’t make this easy.