by C. L. Parker
Grabbing my jacket, I stood and stalked back toward the open road where the cab had dropped me. I didn’t even care if they could see me. Besides, they were too busy with each other to pay attention anyway.
It didn’t take long to wave down a cab, and then I was on my way back to sulk in a tall ale at Monkey Business. I needed to think. I wasn’t a quitter, and I’d worked too hard to get where I was to walk away without anything to show for it. There had to be something I could do, and I was sure it would come to me if I could just block the visual of Denver Rockford and Cassidy Whalen out of my stupid head. My imagination was getting the best of me and conjuring up all kinds of scenarios whereby Denver had her bent over in front of him while fucking her from behind. Shit.
She wouldn’t actually do that, would she?
The stunt Cassidy had pulled was unethical at best. And even though I’d wooed more than my fair share of women to land an athlete, I’d never slept with the athletes themselves. It made things too messy. Surely Cassidy was smarter than that. Maybe all she’d done was flirt a little. Maybe she hadn’t let him touch her like that at all.
Why the fuck did I care?
Cassidy
I learned something new about myself yesterday. Apparently, there were gobs of “Do me!” seeping from my pores. That was the only explanation I could come up with for why my mortal enemy, Shaw Matthews, was fucking me like crazy while my potential client, Denver Rockford, was trying to woo the panties right off me. If only he’d opted to meet me at the office instead of the beach, he could’ve saved himself the time and the effort. Thanks in large part to my cluttered and now forgetful mind. Yes, I’d lost my mind and forgotten who I was. Obviously.
I should have known better. I really should have. Denver had never made it a secret that he was crushing on me, and there I was, parading around in my bathing suit while he was indulging in an alternate universe where he and I were a couple. I knew it was wrong¸ but I didn’t stop the delusion. I had let him run with it, even partook in the fantasy. All the while¸ I’d talked myself out of acknowledging the very real fact that this was a date, not a routine luncheon with a client. I’d done the thing that had disgusted me most about Shaw: I’d taken advantage of a situation that I shouldn’t have.
Bring home that win. By any means necessary. Wade’s voice had been the constant stage direction during my stellar performance. Shame on me.
Most of the conversation Denver had, he had with my breasts. But did I attempt to cover them up in the least? Oh, no. I lathered the girls up with sunblock instead. How could I stoop so low? My real assets couldn’t be stuffed into a bikini top; they were in my head, for crying out loud.
And now Denver had the wrong idea.
But then so did Shaw. Okay, so that might have been a slight advantage, but how far was I willing to go to get the partnership? I’d thought sleeping with Shaw was the lowest of the low, but as it turned out, I could limbo my way on down to leading on a client. My da would be so disappointed. His little girl was nothing more than a common slut profiting from a case of quid pro quo.
My office door burst open, and Shaw marched in without so much as a courtesy knock. “There she is. Little Miss By-the-Book.”
Well, this conversation was off to a good start. It could only go downhill from here, so I saw no point in continuing it. “I am in no mood for your crap today, Matthews. Get out.”
Naturally, he ignored me and kept right on rambling. “Though it looks like you’re reading from Fifty Shades of Grey instead of the employee code of ethics.”
I looked up from my laptop and took my glasses off like that was going to help me better understand what he was going on about. “What?”
“I thought we both agreed that doing the client was a no-no.”
Sitting back in my chair, I sighed. “Yeah, well, I just couldn’t help myself. Something about cold cuts and cheese turns me into a wanton hussy,” I said with a far-off stare that was every bit as facetious as the words. “We just had lunch, idiot.”
“Chains and whips, chips and dips …” Shaw shrugged and took a seat on the corner of my desk as if he owned the spot. “It’s all the same, right?”
“Oh … my God. You’re ridiculous!” He was also loud and hadn’t bothered to close the door behind him, so I got up to do it myself. As I passed by him, I caught a whiff of his cologne and almost stopped to bury my face in his neck, but I didn’t. Luckily, his mouth and his outrageous accusation had kept my brain sharp and my inner slut at bay.
“So am I right? Did you and Denver hit up a little red room of pain?”
Wow. This was a side of Shaw I’d never seen before. He’d always been an ass, but something was different about his assiness at the moment.
“Will you keep your voice down?” I hissed.
“Why? Are you worried your assistant is going to find out just how kinky her boss really is, how unscrupulous her morals are, that she’d go to any length to get what she wants?”
Ally knew better. I wasn’t like that. Maybe I was screwing Shaw, but he made me crazy enough to do stupid things. I could plead temporary insanity on that one and no court in the world would argue. But a client? No way. For a moment I considered the very real possibility that Shaw must have used the tactic often. It would explain why he was so quick to assume the same about Denver and me.
Shaw took my arm as I passed again and prevented me from going back to my chair. “Did you do it? Him,” he corrected himself. “Denver, that is.”
Yanking my wrist out of his grasp, I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at him. “I can’t even believe we’re having this conversation right now. Look at you. You’re not just being a jerk; you’re serious. And really pissed.”
He stood then, towering like a sentinel in the face of a pressing threat. Shaw wasn’t overly muscular, but he was physically fit, and at the moment, all that toned mass was taut and at the ready. Slowly, he moved his hands to his hips, as if any sudden movement might spook me. He was probably right to do so. Admittedly, I was on edge, wary of the forehead vein that was zigzagging down from his hairline like a lightning bolt that might arc out and strike me down at any moment. Plus the ticking-jaw thing was back. But his eyes. His eyes were eerily calm, fixated on my every move.
“Just answer the goddamn question, Cassidy. Did you or did you not fuck Denver Rockford?” At least he’d lowered his voice, but I wasn’t sure I liked the unnatural quiet of it. It was like talking to a criminal who might or might not be a serial killer.
“Did you?” I knew the answer before I even asked the question, but I was trying to prove how silly the whole topic was. I’d no sooner screw Denver than Shaw would, and he knew it. Or at least he should have.
“No. But then I wasn’t half naked on a beach, frolicking in the ocean until I was so exhausted I couldn’t help but fall into his arms.”
I gasped, which was such a chick thing to do, but it couldn’t be helped. I was shocked. “You were spying on us?”
Shaw smirked. “I prefer to think of it as intense research.”
My hands found my hips and sat there judgmentally. “Which some might call stalking.”
“And some might call what I saw exhibitionism. It’s illegal in every state, you know.”
“Oh, whatever! I wasn’t frolicking in the ocean, and there was no exhibitionism. The fruit Denver brought for lunch attracted some bees, and I’m terrified of them. So I took off running and headed for the water because it was the only safe place I could think of to get away from them. That’s what you saw. Not that I owe you any sort of explanation.”
“My eyes weren’t playing tricks on me. He was cradling you bridal-style, and that look the two of you exchanged was quite intense.”
“Denver is a mountain of a man, with arms as big around as my head. When he wants to pick you up, you don’t know about it until you’re already in the air. He was trying to be a hero. It wasn’t my idea. And before you go there, neither was the kiss.”
Sha
w just stared at me. For what seemed like an eternity. “You kissed him?”
Crap. He apparently hadn’t seen that part.
“No … he kissed me.”
He threw his hands into the air. “Ah! I see now.”
“Hard to believe, since you can’t see past the end of your own nose, but entertain me. What is it that you see, Shaw?”
He started pacing then. “This isn’t a tactic for you at all, is it? You’re not trying to put yourself into a position to coerce Denver into signing with you so you can win the partnership.”
I sighed, exhausted by the conversation. “You’re not making any sense. Stop beating around the bush and get to your point, please.”
“You really do want him. Not just as your client, but in your bed.”
That cinched it for me. He’d lost his ever-loving mind.
“Wow. You are really grasping at straws. You have to hear how silly you sound right now. Plus, you’re being contradictory. I thought you just said I was trying to put myself into a position to—”
Shaw interrupted before I could finish: “You’re trying to put yourself into position, all right, but which is it? Flat on your back or down on your knees?”
I narrowed my eyes at him. He had gone too far and he knew it, though it seemed he’d passed the point of no return and was just going to keep running.
“Are you wet? Just thinking about all that … what did you call him? Oh, now I remember: mountain of a man. You’re just gushing between the thighs, soaking those panties. If you’re even wearing any, that is. All this time, I thought you were a do-gooder. Little did I know, you were just doing it good. Real good. Good enough to get ahead, right? How many others have there been?”
That was it. I’d had enough. I slapped him. Hard. And then I pushed him away so I could lift my skirt and prove that I was indeed wearing panties, but I wouldn’t be for long. “Here, you can have them. Put them on, parade around, and see what it’s like to spend a day in them. You can even stick your hand inside to stroke your own cock, for all I care, because that’s the only way you’ll be getting into my panties ever again.” The silky red fabric went sailing from my fist and hit him in the chest before dropping to the floor at his feet. “And for the record, I can fuck whomever I want. I don’t require your permission to do so. Get out!”
Turning my back to him was somewhat dramatic, but then I was feeling quite proud of myself. I owned the saunter over to my desk, though it was a move I’d soon regret.
I never heard him approach from behind. Then again, there was no time to. One strong arm wrapped around my waist, and his hard chest was pressed to my back. I was about to rip him a new one when he forcefully bent me over the desk while grabbing a handful of hair and pulling until I had no choice but to arch my body.
Oh, God. I really liked that.
His warm breath was at my ear, too fast for anyone in complete control. “You think you have the upper hand?” His free hand was rough as it pushed and pulled at my skirt until cool air kissed the naked skin of my bare ass. “You don’t.” The swift smack of a palm landed on one cheek, and the resulting sting made me jump. “That was the upper hand.”
I recovered quickly, and instinct was my guide as I backed into his crotch. Or at least I attempted to.
“Ah, ah, ah …” Shaw’s grasp on my hip denied that bit of friction.
It was crappy timing that I should choose the moment of his admonishment to look up and lock eyes with Casey’s photo on my desk. But it wasn’t enough to shame me into stopping this impromptu encounter that promised a healthy release by the time Shaw was done. If he didn’t deny me the way he was threatening to. Regardless, it was enough to make me reach out and turn the frame facedown. Casey didn’t need to see what was about to happen, and I didn’t need to see Casey while it was going down.
“Tell me what you want, Cassidy. Is it Denver?”
God, what a tangled web I’d been weaving. Denver, the best chance of making my career; Casey, the best friend I’d ever had; and Shaw, the best sex I ever would … Such a shame I couldn’t mash them all together to make the perfect man.
Shaw cupped my ass and slid his hand down to slip his fingers between my dripping folds. He made a sound that was half growl, half groan when he felt how wet I was. “That better not be for Denver.”
I shook my head as much as I could in his tight grip.
“No?” He pushed two fingers inside me, and I inhaled sharply at the delicious presence, gushing even more. “Is it for me?”
I nodded. It wasn’t an admission I’d wanted to make. Not to Shaw.
Shaw bent and put his lips to my ear. “Do you want me to fuck you?” He pulled his fingers almost all the way out and then pushed back inside, deeper this time.
Once again, I nodded.
“Say it.”
“I want you to fuck me. Hard.”
“Good girl,” he whispered.
Dammit, he was right. My good girl was so naughty, and my naughty girl was becoming so good at it. It was high time I embraced them both and sliced out a bit of sinful heaven. Or was that heavenly sin?
But Shaw didn’t give me what I wanted. Instead, he dropped to his knees to watch as he got his finger fuck on, and get his finger fuck on he did. Holy Jesus! Having freedom to move my head again, I looked back over my shoulder, my mouth gaping as I watched how enraptured he was by the sight before him. He bit his lip, one strong hand on the small of my back to hold me down and the other working purposefully—not too slow, not too fast—to bring me to orgasm. I could feel it pending, knew it was boiling and ready to give him the reward he was working toward. And then Shaw nipped at the cheek of my ass, quickly replacing his fingers with his tongue.
I came, gripping the edge of my desk and slamming my eyes shut. Somehow, I’d kept enough presence of mind to bury my face in my arm to stifle the accompanying moan, but I wasn’t sure how long I’d be able to keep quiet. Shaw kept lapping at me, catching my orgasm on his tongue and swallowing it down until, finally, it abated and I could breathe again.
Then, without warning, he stood and fisted my hair once again so he could maneuver my head into an uncomfortable position and kiss me hard on the mouth. The taste of my orgasm on his lips and tongue was exquisitely addictive. It was Shaw and it was me—two things that should never be combined. Yet I couldn’t get enough. I attempted to twist around for a better angle, but his hold and the unrelenting set of his body sent a message that was loud and clear. I would not get anything Shaw was not willing to give. And he wasn’t taking requests. It thrilled me, and I was completely on board.
Abruptly, he pulled away, and with one swift thrust, he entered me. I was unprepared, and this time, my moan would not be denied. I wasn’t even aware that he’d unleashed his cock in the first place, but I didn’t really care about the details. He was inside me, and the sensation of the stretch and fill was like sweet, sweet relief. I hadn’t realized how badly I’d been craving him, but I had. God help me … I had.
Shaw
Cassidy moaned when I pushed inside her, and I couldn’t have that. She was never loud, but in the silence of her office, every sound seemed amplified. I couldn’t and wouldn’t stop, but I also wouldn’t risk us getting caught, either. So I grabbed the buckle of my belt and pulled it through the loops. “Here,” I said, handing it to her. “Bite down.”
I expected her to argue or look at me like I was crazy, but she didn’t. She understood damn well what I wanted, and she took the belt without question. Some part of me reveled in the knowledge that I’d not only have a notch in my belt from fucking her but I’d have her teeth marks etched into the leather as well. Christ, that was a powerful thought.
Even more powerful was the sight before me. Cassidy’s ass bare and bent over her own desk—the place where she worked tirelessly to thwart my every attempt to catapult past her—and submissive to my will. Damn sexy. But I wanted more. I wanted to watch the shift of power, bask in my own dominance over her. Straighteni
ng, I palmed the cheeks of her round ass, none too gently. My thumbs swept her crevice and spread her wide. All of her intimate parts were on display, and she was at her most vulnerable. Her pussy stretched tight around my cock, the slick walls gripping and milking me with each retreating stroke. Goddamn, it was beautiful.
Shifting my weight to my left leg, I switched the angle and got my grind on. Slow and purposeful, so she could feel every detail of my cock. A dip at the knees gave me an even better angle from which to see all her juicy pink bits. So soft, so feminine, so harmless. But there was nothing harmless about Cassidy, was there?
I pulled almost all the way out before slamming back inside. Cassidy jumped, because damn right her insides were at my mercy, and I had none to give. Just like she showed none to me.
“Don’t move,” I warned, pinning her in place. I did it again. And again. And again. Picking up my pace and driving deep, driving hard. The clinking of the metal buckle on my belt was like an applause for my performance and it drove me even further. So far that the momentum of my thrusts shoved her forward on the desk, and I had to grab her hips to pull her back toward my crotch. There would be no running from my cock. I would have my way. I would make her submit … one way or another. Digging my fingertips into her flesh, I pushed that goddamn skirt up; it was riding down and threatening to rob me of my view.
I almost wished it had.
My brain got all sideways on me with the new detail that had emerged. Cassidy had been hiding a secret, it seemed. There, perched on her left hip, was a tattoo of a single shooting star in blue with the name Casey etched beneath it in elegant script. A twinge of jealousy spiked from my insides, but only for a moment, before I remembered that I didn’t do jealousy. This was only about leveling the playing field, asserting dominance over my competitor, and reminding her of her place. And if I was lucky, maybe the constant maddening craving that had been growing for her would finally go away. I needed it to go away.