He thought it over and finally answered. “I’m not expecting anyone else.”
“Okay. Maggie locked her keys in her car and she just stopped by to get her spare set. She said to tell you that she’ll be in tomorrow.”
“Thanks.”
Quinn closed the blackout drapes and then the blinds, enveloping his office in privacy from the outside world. He turned out the lights and then removed all of his clothes. The room was dark, but light filtered in from under the door, enough for him to find the blindfold and tie it over his eyes.
With the last bit of light gone, he couldn’t see at all. His leather chair felt cool against his bare skin. He felt around his desk and picked up the note, sniffed again. The scent of jasmine reassured him that a real woman was going to show up.
However, he realized that even with the door unlocked, it was unlikely that the unthinkable would happen and the wrong person would accidentally walk into his office to find him sitting there naked. Blindfolded. How awkward would that be? But people didn’t barge into his office. Never. They knocked.
In any other place in the world, a man found in his position might lose his standing by exhibiting such behavior—but this was California. As long as two adults were willing and over the age of consent, no one cared what they did in their private time.
And no one from Simitar Studios would dare enter his office with Kimberly guarding the door. If Maggie had been in, she might knock, then barge in, but she was off sick. He really wasn’t risking that much. And Quinn had the uncanny knack of following his gut, of being a maverick, and having things work out for him. Even if someone entered, the room was dark, and he was hidden behind the desk from the waist down.
So why was he listening to every creak and groan? Why were the hairs on his arms standing on end? And why had all his blood gone directly south?
She wasn’t even here. He was all alone. Waiting for her. And every minute seemed like an hour.
8
MAGGIE WALKED INTO SIMITAR Studios and nodded hello to the security guard. She held a tissue to her nose as if she needed it. But she was far from feeling sick. Every step she took in her new thong panties reminded her where she was going and why.
Her stomach clenched at the thought of a naked, blindfolded Quinn waiting for her in his office. Would he follow her instructions?
She had her plan worked out. By now Kimberly should have told him Maggie had come and gone. If she entered his office and found him dressed, she would be his secretary Maggie returning to pick up some paperwork she’d forgotten and to assure her boss she would be back at work tomorrow. If he was blindfolded and naked, she would be his lover.
However, every plan had inherent risks and while confidence bloomed in her gut, she couldn’t be positive she had every angle covered. That’s where she should be scared, but instead exhilaration simmered in her blood. Each step she took, she had to refrain from bouncing in excitement.
She took the elevator up to his office, her palms damp with the fear of discovery, her heartbeat racing with her need to be with Quinn again. To go with her panties, she’d purchased a new push-up bra that left her nipples bared to rub against the silky material of her blouse. Maggie wore a sweater over her blouse to hide her erect nipples from the casual glances of her fellow workers. Her skirt brushed against her bare legs as she strode quickly down the hallway filled with people leaving work and exiting the building.
She nodded to acquaintances, her stomach fluttering with nerves as she passed through a long hallway and several private offices before reaching her own. Kimberly was sitting behind her desk, frowning over a stack of messages, but looked up the moment Maggie entered.
Maggie put her finger to her lips, a silent reminder to Kimberly not to speak. She didn’t want to give Quinn a clue that she was there—not until she walked through his door.
Kimberly shot her a thumbs-up signal, glanced at the clock, picked up her purse and left the outer office, locking the door behind her with a click that caused Maggie’s nerves to shimmy down her spine. In the three years she’d worked for Quinn, she’d never been locked in the office alone with him.
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
Now all she had to do was figure out if she was going to act as Quinn’s secretary or his lover. Her tummy clenched, her nipples hardened in anticipation and her new panties were already damp. All reactions Quinn would know nothing about—unless he’d followed her instructions.
Maggie placed her hand on the doorknob. Nerves warred with excitement.
Her plan would work, but what if Quinn went along with her instructions, waited until she was in a compromising position—and then removed his blindfold?
Oh, God. Though she’d tried her best to think of every contingency, she could slip up on a little detail that might give her away. She’d switched toothpaste and deodorant brands, avoided her usual hair gel and scent. Could she have forgotten anything that might give her away?
More important, did she trust him to follow her rules? Walking through the door could ruin everything—but probably not. She reminded herself that he hadn’t removed her mask the first night she’d made love to him.
But he’d had no reason to. Then, he’d believed he was with Laine. Then, he’d believed he knew his lover’s name.
By now, Quinn had to be burning with curiosity. She’d have to make it very clear to him that they couldn’t be together unless he agreed to remain blindfolded.
But, again, she would have to rely on Quinn keeping his word.
Logic told her that Quinn’s word was as good as a signature on a contract. He was first and foremost a businessman. And unlike many people in the film world, Quinn’s word was his bond. Her fingers tightened, then loosened on the doorknob. Quinn hadn’t yet promised her anything.
Walking through that door might be risking her job. However Quinn’s admission to his secretary that he was interested in his lover beyond what they shared sexually had egged her on. Quinn had been intrigued that she hadn’t asked him a favor, that she wanted him simply because she was in lust.
She had to admit that the excitement of her secret added an extra zing. But they already shared so much more than fantastic sex. They worked well together. She suspected they could also be best friends, if the employee-employer scenario could be overcome. And she was learning that they also shared a similar risk-taking persona. Perhaps Quinn’s famous ability to gamble on an unknown director or actress appealed to her on levels she hadn’t known existed inside herself. But now that she’d found the courage to act out her secret fantasies, no way could she stop. She liked the new, bold Maggie too much to end things with Quinn. So if she lost her job, then so be it. She understood the danger. She’d minimized the risk.
She licked her bottom lip. Imagined Quinn waiting on the other side of the door.
Was he thinking about her?
Wondering if she’d show?
Was he already hard with excitement?
If she walked away, she’d never know what she would have missed.
Open the door.
Maggie ordered her fingers to turn the knob. The room was dark. Maggie pushed the light switch and set the dimmer to low.
Quinn sat at his desk. Blindfolded, shirtless. He must have heard her flick on the lights, but he didn’t say a word. Just waited for her to speak as if he expected her demand.
Using her French accent, she spoke in a husky tone. “If you want me to stay, you must promise not to remove the blindfold until after I’m gone.”
“AGREED.”
Quinn had no problem with her demand. In fact, he was beginning to realize that not knowing anything about the woman lent a definite edge of excitement to their encounters. He had every guy’s fantasy in real life, a sexy woman and no commitments or responsibilities—none.
He could put up with his burning curiosity and the mystery of her real identity in exchange for more moments like this one. The precise click of her heels approaching across his mar
ble floor had his body tensing in anticipation. And he wondered what she’d do first. Kiss him? Go down on him?
She walked behind him, the scent of her light perfume, citrus maybe, teasing him. He ached to reach out and tug her into his arms, dip his head into her mass of hair and inhale a lungful of her heady fragrance. But sensing she wished him to remain compliant, stayed still.
For now.
The chair with him in it slid from behind his desk. “Ah, you have a beautiful body. All those hard muscles, just waiting for my touch.”
“Is there anything you’d like me to do?” he asked in a conversational tone, but he was feeling anything but conversational. Sitting there blindfolded and naked, talking to his mystery lover and anticipating her next move had him wired for action. Every muscle in his arms and legs was tensed, ready. So sitting still and doing nothing took a lot of energy—which all poured into one very hard erection.
“I’m enjoying the view very much.”
“Why don’t you get more comfortable? Perhaps take off your blouse.”
“Whatever you wish.”
The slight rustle of her movements wasn’t enough. He ached to touch her, but imagining what she was doing turned him on nearly as much. Would she boldly unfasten her blouse in a rush or take her time, allowing her fingers to linger? “Tell me what you are doing,” he demanded.
“I’m unbuttoning my blouse. The top button is sticking just a little and my fingers grazed my throat. Right here.” She touched his throat with just a fingertip and, in surprise, he almost jumped out of his skin.
She’d left a waft of scent behind. Not citrus. Jasmine. Like the note she’d sent earlier. She’d also left him with the impression that she was standing close enough that if he reached out his hand, he could skim his fingers over her warm flesh.
“Have you started on the second button yet?” he asked.
“Oh, yes. This one is just above the hollow of my breasts. About here.”
Tease. He was prepared for her to touch him again. First, strands of her hair grazed his shoulder, which should have warned him. But when her sharp teeth nipped him, then licked away the smarting, he had to clench the arms of his chair to prevent himself from yanking her into his arms and claiming her mouth.
“My oh my, aren’t you tense.”
He breathed in a ragged breath through his nose and released the air through his mouth in an attempt to calm his agitated nerves. Despite her words, she sounded quite pleased with his reaction.
She touched his inner thigh. “Ah, you are just the way I like a man. Tense and hard.”
Yeah, she was definitely pleased that his sex was standing up for her. No woman had ever taken the time to play these kinds of games with him. He found the attention flattering and exciting and addictive. Oh, yeah. He could definitely get used to this kind of sex play.
“It’s time to give the third button some attention,” he told her, his voice husky.
“Yes, but I’m distracted. I went out this morning and bought a new dark green bra with panties to match. Too bad you can’t see me.”
“Describe yourself.”
“The bra curves under my breasts and lifts me up, creating a very deep cleavage, just like I pushed up my breasts while I played with them during our phone conversation. I’ll bet you’d like to use your hands to lift my breasts like this.”
He clenched his teeth to prevent himself from doing just that. Her voice, so softly provocative, and her words, full of imagery that left his imagination working overtime, had him ready to sweep everything off his desk, wrap his hands around her waist and have her right on his desk.
“Ah, perhaps your silence means that I’m not holding your attention.” Like he wouldn’t recall every single word. “But there’s something else about my new lingerie that might interest you even more.” She paused and he concentrated on digging his fingers into the chair’s arms in order to keep himself seated.
“What?” he growled.
She chuckled as if she knew exactly how she’d fired him into a blaze of need, despite not having yet touched him. He needed to slow down, but he didn’t know how, not with the way she kept fanning his fire.
“This lovely bra doesn’t cover much of my breasts. I can clearly see my nipples.”
The image she painted with her words made him ache to see her again. Instead he had to rely on the memory of their first night together. She’d had lovely round breasts, full and high. The dusky pink areolas had shown off her tight little nipples and he clenched his fingers into the chair to prevent himself from reaching out to touch them.
“Are your nipples all pointy and hard right now?”
“What do you think?” She brushed the tip of her breast along his lips, but before he could capture the tempting bud and draw it into his mouth, she pulled away.
His temperature heated until beads of sweat popped out on his neck. “You are a tease.”
“And you are enjoying me, yes?”
“I’ll enjoy you more when we touch.”
With no warning, she captured the head of his sex in her mouth, ran her tongue over the lip. He gasped in surprise at the sudden heat. Just as suddenly as she’d surrounded him in warmth, she pulled back to leave the cool air dancing on his moist skin.
“I will touch you where and when and how I please,” she told him. “But right now, this dang blouse is in my way.” Dang? She’d pretty much given up on the phony French accent. “I’m unbuttoning the last two buttons and taking off my shirt.”
He envisioned her wearing that sexy bra. Her firm high breasts lightly tanned, her pink nipples taut against the dark green—like a Christmas present waiting to be unwrapped. He hadn’t known that his erection could harden more, but even his balls had rolled up tight, straining to reach her. But instead of her warm, welcoming heat, his flesh met the vacuum of lonely space.
He could hear the rustle of material as she did something to her blouse, the click of her high heels as she returned to him. “Are you enjoying my little striptease?”
“It’ll be one of my all-time favorite memories, I’m sure,” he told her wryly—but he meant it.
“Are you going to have trouble staying in that chair while I remove my skirt?”
What a question! He swallowed a knot of desire. He didn’t want to refuse her anything. However he wasn’t sure he could do as she asked. And he didn’t want to lie, either. He chewed his bottom lip, un-characteristically undecided.
“Well?”
“The mind is willing, but the flesh has other ideas.”
“I came prepared for such an eventuality.”
Interesting. “You did?” She fascinated him on so many levels. Not many women would have created a scenario like this one, even fewer would have admitted to making preparations—for that meant that the lady was willing to make the first moves, even accept rejection. And she didn’t mind his knowing that she thought him worth making preparations for.
She had a way of almost reaching into his inner psyche and giving him what he needed. She seemed to know him better than he knew himself.
“What do you think about my tying your wrists to the chair’s arms? And your ankles to the legs?”
“You want me at your mercy?”
“You already are. You just haven’t yet admitted the obvious to yourself.”
He tested her. “What if I say no?”
“What if I leave now?” she countered.
“Do it.” He spit the words out like an order before he thought too hard or too long. He was going with his gut instincts here, guts that were raw with excitement. But trusting a woman whose name he didn’t even know might be the biggest mistake he’d ever made.
“Don’t move.”
He felt her tying a piece of ribbon around first one wrist and then the other, very fine ribbon, ribbon that he could break with ease if he chose. And that’s when he realized that the ribbon was symbolic. She was using his own wants, needs and desires to tie him.
When she finishe
d, she kissed his lips, then trailed more kisses along his jaw. While her mouth teased and taunted with tenderness, she boldly cupped his balls, squeezed lightly as his sex jerked, then, like before, she pulled away. Her mixture of sweet and audacious made her unpredictable and incredibly erotic. He heard her zipper coming down and demanded, “Tell me how you look.”
“My panties are green, brief, very brief. In fact, they are a thong.” He sucked in air at the image. “And I didn’t have to worry about my bikini line since yesterday I shaved almost everywhere.”
He needed to see her. Touch her. His mouth went dry as he forced himself to sit still. And even then, he couldn’t resist torturing himself by asking, “How do the panties feel?”
“Naughty. Tight. Damp. I’m bending over to slip off my skirt.”
“Come here so I can touch you.”
The click of her heels told him she was coming near. “Turn your palm up.”
Since she’d tied the ribbon loosely, he could turn his hand over without breaking the ribbon. She leaned over him and her lips brushed his. At the same time, his fingers slid over her lace panties, edging over flesh that was as smooth as satin.
Oh so sensitive, she jerked at his first touch. Her head bumped his and his blindfold slid up. For one split second before the blindfold slid back down to cover his eyes again, he saw his mystery lover’s face.
Maggie!
IF MAGGIE HADN’T IMMEDIATELY thrust her tongue into his mouth, he might have said her name aloud.
Maggie was his secret lover.
Maggie was seducing him. It was Maggie who had taken Laine’s place. Maggie with whom he’d had phone sex. Maggie who had him naked and blindfolded and tied with ribbons to his office chair.
And she had no idea what had just happened. No idea that the blindfold had slipped. His thoughts whirled crazily in his head. No wonder she knew him so well. No wonder she could plan around his schedule.
So how come he’d never known that Maggie could kiss like his hottest fantasy? How come he hadn’t known that beneath her businesslike clothes was a woman with the curves of a goddess? He was so stunned, it was moments before he realized that she was no longer kissing him. The knowledge may have stunned him but it certainly hadn’t diminished his desire for her.
Bordering on Obsession Page 10