Play Thing

by Nicola Marsh

  ‘Yeah.’ He reached out and toyed with the zipper tab. ‘I like this.’ He inched it down slowly, the rasp of metal sharp in the air heightening her anticipation. ‘Easy access.’

  ‘That was the whole idea.’

  She met his gaze boldly, feeling as if she were having an out-of-body experience as he lowered it all the way and pushed the dress off her shoulders, leaving her standing in a sheer white lace teddy that revealed more than it hid.

  ‘Fuck me,’ he murmured, his gaze heated as it zeroed in on her rigid nipples.

  She wanted to say ‘I intend to’ but some of her brazenness fled when he reached out and touched between her legs.

  And discovered the teddy was crotchless.

  ‘You are something else,’ he said, a second before his mouth crushed hers.

  There was nothing soft or seductive about his kiss. He plundered her mouth. Ravaged her. His tongue mimicking what she yearned for him to do lower. Long, hot, open-mouthed kisses that had her clawing at him, desperate to gain purchase before she slid in a boneless puddle to the floor.

  His hands spanned her waist and hoisted her onto the desk. She gasped as her butt hit the cool wood and he nudged her knees apart, stepping between them.

  ‘Do you have any idea how much time I’ve spent fantasising about this very thing since you entered this office early in the week?’

  Buoyed by his blatant lust, she nodded. ‘You told me that first night you wanted to ravage me on your desk, so here I am.’

  He shook his head, as if in a daze. ‘How did I get so lucky?’

  She raised an eyebrow. ‘You could get luckier?’

  He didn’t need the encouragement, as he eased her down with one hand until she was propped on her elbows, watching him watch her.

  He didn’t break eye contact as he peeled the teddy from her crotch to her stomach, leaving her bare to him. He knelt, reverent, and placed his mouth to her.

  Feasted on her. Licking and sucking. Nibbling and nipping. He lapped at her, his tongue an exquisite torture as desire made her tremble. When his teeth scraped across her clit, she whimpered. And when he sucked, her hips jolted off the desk.

  He drove her wild with his mouth as she climbed fast and furiously towards an orgasm that ripped through her so hard she almost passed out.

  Her eyes had drifted shut at some point and when her eyelids fluttered open Alex towered over her, poised between her legs, unzipped and sheathed, his gaze hungry and focused.

  ‘Look at me,’ he demanded, as he slid into her inch by glorious inch, slowly, languorously, as if he had all the time in the world to pleasure her.

  She bit her lip at the exquisite pressure of him filling her so completely. Then he started moving. Slowly at first. Withdrawing with infinite patience. Thrusting in hard. Maintaining this steady pace with a determination that defied logic.

  How could he be so controlled when all she wanted was for him to pound into her like their previous encounters?

  ‘You’re determined to drive me nuts, aren’t you?’ She writhed and arched her hips upward but he held them down.

  ‘It’ll be worth it, sweetheart.’

  And damn him, he was right. Because this time her orgasm built slowly. Tension made her muscles tighten and her spine buzz. Her skin rippled with sensation, as if a thousand butterflies were dancing across it.

  She watched him, his jaw clenched, a vein pulsating at his temple, his gaze focused on her. Only her.

  She eyeballed him, wondering if he knew how damn good he made her feel, and whatever he saw in her eyes drove him over the edge as he pounded into her so hard she half lifted off the desk. His fingers dug into her butt as he stiffened and groaned, her orgasm crashing over her a second later.

  They hadn’t broken eye contact and for several long moments they stared at each other in stunned silence. At least, that was how she felt. Stupefied. Caught up in some weird alternate universe where she shed her shyness and thought nothing of seducing a hot guy on his desk.

  ‘Have you had dinner?’

  Of all the things she expected him to say after their mind-blowing encounter, that wasn’t it.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Me either.’ His lopsided grin made her heart twinge in a way it shouldn’t. ‘I think I’ve worked up an appetite. Want to grab a bite?’

  Charlotte should say no. She shouldn’t get into a pattern of indulging in date-like behaviour whenever they had sex, because it could only lead to expectations. Expectations far removed from their clear-cut fling. Expectations that would result in her wanting things she shouldn’t.

  ‘Stop over-thinking this.’ He reached forward and traced the faint frown line between her brows. ‘I like hanging out with you. We have to eat. Let’s do it together.’

  ‘Okay.’ She found herself agreeing all too quickly. So much for not fostering expectations. ‘I might need to go home and change first.’

  ‘Why?’ His fingertips traced a line from her brow, down her cheek, along her jaw, to her neck. From there, his hand drifted lower, between her breasts, across her ribs, coming to rest on her stomach where the teddy lay ruched up. ‘This way, I’ll know exactly what you’re wearing beneath that dress and I’ll look forward to taking it all off you later.’

  Her insides clenched at the thought of more as a slow, lascivious grin spread across his face. ‘I think your body agrees with me.’

  She blushed. Of course he’d felt that, considering they were still engaged below the waist. How could she do this, lie sprawled across a desk, having a post-coital chat, not in the least bit self-conscious? It defied belief how this man could befuddle her to the point she shed her inhibitions.

  ‘If you want to eat, we’ll have to get dressed,’ she said, adding a pelvic wiggle for good measure.

  ‘If you keep doing that, we’re not going anywhere,’ he said, but slid out of her and took care of business while she redressed.

  As she slid the dress zipper up, she caught sight of her reflection in a glass cabinet behind the desk. That was when reality set in.

  Did she really think she could pull this off, playing a vamp only interested in one thing?

  Because every time they had sex, Charlotte knew a small part of her craved more. The way he made her feel when he pleasured her...she had a sneaking suspicion that no other man would come close. And if that were the case, was she setting herself up for a major fall?

  What if her dream guy didn’t do it for her like Alex?

  Spending more time with him would only reinforce this, which meant she had to get away.

  Now.

  ‘Sorry, can’t do dinner, have to go,’ she blurted, making a run for the door.

  ‘What the—?’

  ‘See you tomorrow.’ Her fingers fumbled the lock for a second but then she twisted it, opened the door and fled.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  ALEX HAD NO idea what the hell had just happened.

  One second he was on a high after having amazing sex on his desk, the next he was watching Charlotte flee his office after reneging on their dinner plans.

  ‘Hey, wait up,’ he yelled, giving chase. Thankfully, he caught her just before the elevator doors slid shut by sticking his hand between them.

  They slid open to reveal her staring at him wide-eyed, her lips compressed in a mutinous line.

  ‘What happened back there?’

  ‘Nothing. I just remembered I have stuff to do.’ She shook her head, soft brown waves tumbling over her shoulders, making him want to bury his nose in it and inhale the fruity fragrance of her shampoo.

  ‘Let me guess. Feed your cat.’ He snapped his fingers, trying to turn down the sarcasm but more than a tad annoyed at her sudden urge to flee after what had just happened in his office. ‘But you forget that I’ve been to your flat and you don’t have a cat. So what’s up?’


  ‘Can’t you just let this go?’ Colour suffused her cheeks and she folded her arms across her chest. Like that could ever distract him from her perfect, pert breasts.

  ‘No. It’s not in my nature to give up.’

  When the elevator doors started pinging because he had his arms braced against them, he said, ‘I’m coming with you.’

  She glared at him, frown lines crinkling her forehead. ‘I want to be alone.’

  ‘No, you don’t. You want to mull over what just happened. Maybe you’re freaked out by how powerful the connection is when we have sex?’ He stepped into the elevator and patted his pocket to ensure he had his cell and car keys. ‘Don’t be. Sex is rarely that good and when it is, you have to embrace it.’

  He shot her a cheery wink. ‘I have.’

  ‘That’s because you didn’t have a choice,’ she snapped. ‘I strutted into your office like some ho and practically stripped in front of you.’

  Her confession seriously rattled him. Was mortification behind her abrupt turnaround? He knew her inexperience with men could be an issue but the way she’d responded to him so far had convinced him that she’d shed her inhibitions.

  He had to slow this down. Had to show her that he liked her for more than her body. Which he obviously hadn’t done a very good job of so far.

  ‘You’re overwhelmed, I get it, but don’t ever think I see you as anything other than a strong woman willing to embrace her sexuality.’

  Her mouth softened at his declaration and he continued. ‘I like being with you. That’s it. No hidden agenda. No ulterior motives. So how about we take this down a notch? Grab takeout and go somewhere that makes you comfortable?’

  A refusal hovered on her lips. He could see it in every rigid line of her body. So rather than waiting for a response, he stepped completely into the elevator and stabbed at the button for the ground floor.

  ‘You don’t need to answer, just give me directions,’ he said, watching the lit numbers on the console count down. ‘Anywhere you want.’

  When she still didn’t speak, he risked a glance at her. She slowly turned towards him, her expression solemn.

  ‘I feel like a big, greasy hamburger with a side of fries.’

  Trying not to let his elation show that she’d capitulated, he nodded. ‘Sounds good.’

  When they reached the ground floor and exited the building, her continuing silence didn’t disarm him so much. Whatever thoughts were going through her head were enough to scare her into this funk so he’d bide his time, feed her, then try a different tack.

  That was when it hit him.

  He never put this much effort into wooing a woman.

  Especially not when they’d already done the deed.

  Enough of a thought to send him into a funk too. Maybe he should cut his losses and run while he still could? The thought of working alongside her for the next three weeks, being forced to pretend platonic was fine; keeping his hands off her was a big ask.

  He couldn’t do it. Not when every time he sat at his desk he’d be bombarded with memories of her splayed across it.

  Damn, he’d never get that image out of his mind.

  She’d surprised him by taking the initiative, by boldly entering his domain with the sole purpose of seducing. It had turned him on big time. As for that dress and teddy, he hoped he could convince her to try on every single one of those decadent items from her aunt’s kinky online store.

  Not tonight. Tonight, he had to convince her that a fling didn’t necessarily equate with making her feel cheap, that he valued their connection.

  He’d assumed he’d already demonstrated that by taking her out to dinner earlier in the week but he should have known that with her inexperience she’d revert to type and withdraw.

  When they reached the basement car park he placed a hand in the small of her back and guided her towards the right. ‘We’ll take my car.’

  That way, she couldn’t drive off and ditch him.

  Surprisingly, she didn’t protest and waited until they’d reached his car, opened the door and slid onto the passenger seat before speaking. ‘Thanks.’

  ‘For what?’

  ‘Putting up with my freak-out.’

  He grinned. ‘Gorgeous, that wasn’t a freak-out. That was you floundering after having the best sex of your life with a master.’

  Her eyebrows shot up and the corners of her mouth eased into a semi-smile as he’d intended. ‘A master, huh?’

  ‘You can call me sir.’

  With that, he closed the passenger door on her grin, walked around the car and slid into the driver’s seat. They lapsed into a comfortable silence as he headed for the nearest fast-food outlet and ordered big. When they had a paper bag of burgers and fries, along with chocolate milkshakes, between them, he finally asked, ‘Where to now?’

  ‘I’ll direct you,’ she said, pressing her hand to her stomach. ‘And I’m not averse to you speeding a little, because those smells are making me hungry.’

  He had a constant appetite around her but it sure as hell wasn’t for food.

  ‘How far?’

  ‘Ten minutes.’

  Thankfully, it was less in the evening traffic and they soon pulled up in a deserted parking lot on a beachside cliff top, completely isolated by a ring of trees.

  ‘What is this place?’ He hadn’t been to this part of Sydney before, a trendy suburb on the outskirts of the affluent east.

  ‘Eat first, talk later,’ she said, tearing open the first bag, snaffling a fry and stuffing it into her mouth. ‘Mmm...good,’ she murmured, throwing in an appreciative moan that shot straight to his dick.

  He’d heard her moan like that before, usually when he was thrusting inside her, her head thrashing from side to side, as if teetering on the brink between pleasure and pain.

  Damn, he needed to eat pronto before he hauled her into the back seat and had his wicked way with her again.

  ‘I didn’t pick you for the junk-food type.’ He unwrapped a burger, took the top off and removed the pickles.

  ‘About the only good thing my parents ever gave me was a fast metabolism.’ She raised her hamburger in the air. ‘So I can eat as many of these as I want and not get fat. My friends hate me.’

  He wanted to delve further into that offhand comment about her folks but he didn’t want her to clam up again, not when she’d only just started talking.

  ‘You’ve got a rocking bod. I’m very appreciative,’ he said before taking a bite out of the burger and wishing he were nibbling on her.

  She mumbled something unintelligible but he glimpsed happiness in her eyes.

  They demolished the burgers and fries in record time—he couldn’t remember the last time he had fast food, and thought it must taste better because of her.

  ‘Shall we partake of our beverages outside?’ He did a funny little half-bow that had her smiling at his faux formality.

  ‘Sure, I’ve got something to show you anyway.’

  They fell into step beside each other, slurping at their milkshakes, as they ducked between an opening in the trees and crossed a grassy knoll with a gradual incline.

  ‘So this is one of your favourite places, huh?’

  ‘It will be when I make an offer very soon.’

  Offer? They crested the knoll and came to a road, lined by modest houses on the opposite side.

  ‘There. That one,’ she said, pointing to a weatherboard Californian bungalow two houses to the left. ‘That’s my dream house and I’m going to buy it.’

  He heard the wistfulness in her voice, and the pride behind her declaration.

  ‘Good for you.’

  His response fell flat as she half turned towards him. ‘You don’t like it?’

  ‘I didn’t say that.’

  He didn’t have to, considering his less than enthu
siastic response was far from complimentary.

  He hated feeling this way, oddly uncomfortable, staring at the small house with its newly painted white boards and ecru-trimmed windows. A towering eucalyptus smack bang in the middle of the neat lawn, edged by flowerbeds. Complete with a goddamn picket fence, a ludicrous duck-egg blue rather than white.

  But something about the thought of Charlotte living out her dream here, without him, didn’t sit well.

  Not that he wanted to be part of anyone’s long-term dreams, but just a week into their hot fling he didn’t want to think about it ending.

  ‘You asked to see my go-to place and this is it,’ she said, the hurt in her voice making him want to slap himself upside the head. ‘I’ve been coming here almost daily for the last four weeks because it makes me feel good.’

  He understood that. Airports made him feel that way. Tangible proof of his transient life, just the way he liked it.

  He didn’t like becoming connected to anything or anyone for too long, because he’d seen first-hand how that bred contempt and eventually led to the disintegration of anything good.

  He wasn’t fool enough to believe that all marriages were like his folks’, but being cut off emotionally had become so ingrained for him that he wasn’t interested in trying to rectify it. Getting too attached, letting himself feel, meant that when life got hard, as it inevitably did, the fall would be all the harder. He was many things; a masochist wasn’t one of them.

  ‘Isn’t the Sydney housing market booming right now?’

  His unspoken question hung between them: if this dream house was so damn good, why hadn’t it sold during that time?

  ‘It is, but the owner’s asking price is too high.’ She ditched her milkshake in the nearby trash and wrapped her arms around her middle, as if seeking comfort. ‘I’ve spoken to the realtor and told him my bottom line. He thinks he can get the owner to budge a little. So in the meantime I pray every night that the place won’t get sold out from under me.’