He frowned. “That doesn’t seem smart to me.”
“It’s three hundred dollars.”
“Don’t I pay you well enough?”
I blushed, dropping my arms to my side as I struggled to explain myself. “You pay me very well, Mr. Brooks. But I have debts, so I work several jobs to try to get them paid off.”
He nodded, but his eyes were no longer on my face. They were moving slowly over the length of me. He crossed his arms over his chest, stepping back just slightly until his back hit the wall as though he was afraid that if he didn’t put distance between us, he might touch me. And that thought made my nipples harden, reminding me of the ill-fitting bikini top. I crossed my own arms over my chest, adjusting them a few times to make sure everything was fully covered.
He cleared his throat, his eyes dropping to the floor.
“You should probably put some clothes on.”
I turned to grab my bag, but I moved too fast on the unfamiliar shoes. I stumbled and would have pitched forward and cracked my head on the side of the cake if he hadn’t come up behind me and grabbed me around the waist. He pulled me back against his chest, his bare hands pressed against my skin just under my ribs. For just a moment, I leaned back into him, the feel of his strong arms and firm chest bringing every nerve in my body alive.
“You need to be a little more careful, Ms. Forman,” he said, his voice just a little breathless. “Can’t have you cracking your head open in my foyer.”
“Sorry,” I mumbled.
He didn’t let me go. He pulled me even closer against him, his hip pressing against my back. I thought…I couldn’t have. But I really thought that maybe, just maybe…
“My brother keeps telling me that I need to live a little,” he said. “I think that’s why he arranged for this little surprise.”
“Your brother?”
“Justin. He’s something of a practical joker.”
“His wife must be in on it, too, because she was the one who let us in and helped us set up.”
“Yeah?” His hand was flat against my side now, his fingers moving over my back in tiny, little strokes. “Sara would do just about anything for Justin.”
“It’s nice that your family cares that much about you.”
“Yeah, well, sometimes I wish they would care a little less.”
He let go of me suddenly, all in one, quick movement. I almost pitched forward again, but managed to catch myself. I bent to pick up my bag, aware of how close he still stood behind me. I hoped my ass wasn’t falling out of the bikini bottoms like my breasts were; I hoped that it wasn’t a horribly unattractive sight.
I turned, my lip caught between my teeth as I let myself take in everything about him. He was so gorgeous. And he looked exhausted, standing there in the same suit he’d been wearing earlier, just with the tie loosened and the jacket missing. I wanted to touch him and had this really strong desire to run my hand over his jaw. I don’t know why, but I wanted to stand close to him and just breathe in his scent. There was something about him that just made my insides turn to jelly and my common sense go flying out the window.
The way he was looking at me…I was beginning to wonder if he was having some of the same thoughts about me.
“I should…” I said, gesturing toward the powder room that was somewhere behind me.
He nodded. But before I could move, he crossed to me, took my face between his hands and kissed me. And it wasn’t just a friendly, hey-I-just-found-you-hiding-in-a-cake-in-my-entryway sort of kiss. It was an I-want-to-discover-everything-about-you kind of kiss. It was the kind of kiss that a guy you’ve been dating for a lifetime gives you when he can no longer wait for you to be ready. It was the kind of kiss a man who hasn’t touched a woman in too long offers.
And I, as crazy as it was, responded with just as much demand, just as much need. I opened to him, welcomed him inside of me, and loved the way his tongue touched places inside my mouth that I was pretty certain had never been touched. And when he touched them, something corresponded with other parts of my body, bringing to life things that had nothing to do with this kiss but wanted equal attention just the same.
It was amazingly good. I didn’t want it to stop. But it did.
He backed away, holding up his hands and looking at me as if he thought I would slap him.
“I don’t know why I did that.”
“Maybe it’s the bikini,” I said, not ever sure where it came from.
A slow smile slipped over his kiss swollen lips. “Maybe. It is a little skimpy.”
“It was meant for my sister. She’s a little smaller,” I said, gesturing toward my chest.
He licked his bottom lip before tugging it between his teeth. “That would have been my guess.”
“I should go,” I said. “I’m sorry I ruined your surprise.”
“You didn’t,” he said.
I smiled. I knew I should go; I knew that I should get dressed and call Rahul or Rosie or someone, but I couldn’t make myself move. The way he was looking at me. I wanted to stand there all night and bask in that admiration. I wanted him to kiss me again; I wanted his hands on my body.
I knew I could lose my job, but I wanted what he’d unconsciously offered with his kiss.
I dropped my bag without even thinking about it and reached behind me, tugging at the thin strings holding the bikini top in place.
His eyes widened slightly, but he didn’t hesitate. He came to me, his mouth gentler as he kissed me again. I moved into him and slid my arms around his neck, my fingers teasing the thick hair just barely touching his collar.
The bikini top fell, and he took one breast into his hand, my nipple rubbing roughly against his palm. He tugged me closer against him, one arm around my waist, his hand dipping low against the small of my back. His lips moved down over my chin, his mouth finding a tender corner of my throat, his tongue and his teeth doing amazing things that sent wave after wave of pleasure down my spine that ended up right in my lower belly, making me ache so much that I tugged at his hand and drew him down to my cunt, to my swollen clit.
He groaned, as he rained kissed over my chest before he drew one, then the other, nipple into his mouth. His tongue did this lovely swirling thing that made me want to scream and pull him inside of me right there and right then. But then his mouth was on my throat again as his hands slid around to the back of my thighs and he picked me up off the floor. I wrapped my legs around his waist, a tiny bit of relief bursting through me as my clit rubbed up against his lower belly.
We kissed for a long moment, then he broke away, carrying me toward the stairs. I’d never been carried anywhere before. The sensation was disconcerting. But his arms wrapped around me, and I laid my head on his shoulder and felt safer than I had in a very long time. I ran my fingers through his hair, teasing it there where it was getting a little long just above his collar. He nuzzled my neck a little, then stole another kiss.
I couldn’t believe I was doing this. I couldn’t believe I was in this house, touching this man, letting him carry me up to his bedroom. It made my belly quiver and my thighs ache. I moved my hips a little, and he groaned. We couldn’t get to the bedroom fast enough.
He set me on the bed and stepped back slightly, his eyes moving over me as he tugged at his tie, pulling it over his head and tossing it away.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said, his voice nothing more than a low groan.
The thing was, I felt beautiful when he looked at me like that.
He unbuttoned his shirt and pulled that over his head, too, tossing it aside like he’d done with his tie. His chest was bare, just the thinnest amount of hair growing between his heavy pecs. There was a tattoo along his ribs that surprised me a little. He didn’t seem like the type. I wanted to touch it, to run my fingers over the letters.
“Ex-girlfriend?” I asked, sitting up to do just that, to trace the letters.
“No,” he said, his fingers fumbling over his belt.
I pushed his hands away and w
orked the belt myself. He stood still, his hands at his side, and watched. I pulled the belt free and dropped it to the floor, my eyes on his, and then I began to work the button above his fly. He closed his eyes briefly, and then focused on me, the intensity of his gaze almost more than I could bear.
His zipper slid easily, his cock pressed so hard against the front of his boxer briefs that I could almost see the veins of his shaft. I ran my fingers over him, and he groaned. But when I tugged at the top of his briefs, he grabbed my wrist and held me still for a moment. I thought he was going to stop me completely, that he was going to push me back onto the bed and take this thing to the next level. But then he released me and dropped his hand back to his side.
I’m not really going to do this, am I?
But I thought the moment of backing down had already passed. I pulled his briefs down and caught my breath at the sight of his beautiful cock. It was long and slender and pale and…
God, I’m staring at my boss’s cock! I’m so losing my mind!
I wrapped my hand around the shaft and lowered my head just slightly, my lips already slightly parted to welcome him inside my mouth. His abs flexed, as I drew him slowly inside, running my tongue lightly around his glans. He groaned as I took him slowly, very slowly, letting his head rub ever so perfectly against the roof of my mouth. Then I backed away and tried again, taking him just a little deeper the second time. And then I found a nice rhythm, taking him a little deeper each time until he was pressing with growing persistence against the back of my throat.
He was quiet as he watched me. His hands remained at his sides for a while, but then he pressed them against the back of my head. At one point, he tugged the band holding my ponytail, causing my hair to cascade down my back. His fingers were warm, insistent, as he dragged them through my long tresses, tugging at a few knots, pulling the waves out and straight against my bare back.
After a while, he pushed me back against the mattress, a hungry look in his eyes as he tugged at the strings on either side of my bikini bottoms. They fell easily from my body, exposing me completely to his gaze. He didn’t seem disappointed. And then he was braced over me, his lips tugging at my bottom lip. I ran my hands over his ribs and back, my body slowly remembering what it was like to be touched by a man. But his touch was so different from anything I had known before. He knew what he was doing. There was none of the awkward fumbling that often came with a first time, or an only-done-this-in-the-back-of-Daddy’s-car time. It was as if his touch was familiar with my body even as he discovered it for the first time. He seemed to know exactly where to touch me to make me moan, where to touch me to make me shiver. His mouth on mine was like all the best tasting foods in the world touching my taste buds all at once. His fingers moving over my inner thigh, searching for my swollen clit, was like the anticipation that was always better than the moment of satisfaction. Only, this time, satisfaction was just as sweet.
I arched my back as his fingers found my entrance, sliding inside of me with a lovely pressure that was only a taste of what I knew would soon be coming. But then he pulled away, a slight chuckle falling from his lips when I moaned in protest.
“Someone’s ready,” he said softly against my ear.
“Please,” was my only response.
And that made him groan.
He slid his finger inside of me, pressing so deep that the heel of his hand ground against my clit. My breath seemed to stutter in my chest as I again writhed beneath him, moving my hips against him at the same moment my back came off the bed. I twisted away from him, his lips grazing my shoulder as he watched the pleasure force my body to take over all my senses. When I lay back down, he nibbled at my jaw, as he slowly removed his finger once again.
My mouth opened to beg when I felt his knuckles brush against my outer lips. And then his head was pressed against my opening, the hunger in his eyes transforming his handsome face into something even more beautiful. And then he was sliding slowly inside of me, his shaft touching things that I don’t think have ever been touched. My senses came alive as if someone had set a firecracker off inside of me, my muscles wrapping around him like they were determined to never let him leave. I wrapped my legs around his waist and pulled him as close against me as I could. And then we both lay there, just enjoying that first moment, waiting for our nerves to stop going haywire, threatening to push us off that cliff a moment too soon.
When he began to move, all I could think about was him, the way his skin felt pressed against mine, the way his lips tasted against mine, the way his hands felt on my hips, my breasts. And then I couldn’t think. It was all sensation, all about the little sparks—millions and millions of them—rushing up and down my spine and deep in my lower belly. They built to a crescendo like a great symphony piece, rising and rising until I thought I couldn’t take it anymore. And then the moment of climax, that moment when the pleasure couldn’t rise any higher and something finally had to give.
I cried out. I couldn’t have stopped it if I’d wanted to. And then his voice rose to the same level, a bellow that announced his own jump over the cliff, his cock swelling and pressing even deeper inside of me. I wrapped myself around him, my legs around his waist, my arms around his ribs, holding him as we both rode the wave.
When it was done, he rolled onto his side, and I followed without asking, without waiting to find out if he was the cuddling type. I just crawled into his arms and snuggled against his chest, my fingers again tracing those letters that covered his ribs. And then the exhaustion that had been following me around since I left college became more than I could ignore. I was gone before we could say more than two words to one another.
Chapter 6
Jason
“Did you like your surprise?”
I bit back a groan, glad Justin couldn’t see my face.
“That was interesting.”
“Yeah? Was the girl cute?”
“You could say that.”
“Good. It wouldn’t hurt you to look at something other than your own boring mug once in a while.”
“Yeah, well, thanks little brother. I’m sure it was well worth whatever you spent on it.”
“I just wish I could have been there to see it.”
No. No, you don’t.
I set the phone back on its cradle a moment later and sat back, aware that there was a pile of work I needed to get to, but not really much in the mood to look at it. I fell asleep last night with a beautiful woman cradled in my arms and woke this morning to the same empty bedroom I’d been waking to since I moved in there. I then I get a call from security informing that some guy caused a ruckus last night at the front gates, wanting to get inside and rescue her from me. It left me wondering what her story really was.
Not that I regretted a moment of what happened last night. I couldn’t stop thinking about her, about the way she looked curled up inside of that godawful cake—that was, incidentally, still sitting in my foyer—the way she looked when she stepped out of it. Talk about the top ten birthday gifts of all time. She was definitely right there at the top.
I could still smell her on my hands when I woke. I didn’t want to wash her away.
“Philips and Collins are here,” Shelly said, as she walked into my office.
For the second time, I bit back a groan. Time to get to work.
“Send them in.”
The two men walked in, both dressed casually in jeans and t-shirt. They looked respectful, but nervous as they approached my desk. I stood and shook their hands, then gestured for them to take a seat.
“I suppose you’ve noticed that Mr. Thomas is gone.”
They exchanged a quick glance. Then Collins—what was his first name?—looked me square in the eye.
“There have been some rumors.”
“What are they saying?”
“That he was screwing up some of the accounts and that there were client complaints about him.”
I clasped my hands in front of me. “Mr. Thomas was embezz
ling from the company and making it look as though it was your fault.” I gestured vaguely at the two of them. “Both of you.”
Again they exchanged a glance.
“We weren’t aware—” Philips began to say.
I again made a vague gesture. “I know it wasn’t you. Mr. Thomas has been dealt with. But that leaves a vacancy in your department.”
There was eagerness in Collins eyes. But Philips—Denis, I thought his first name was—seemed cautious. I liked that.
“The reason I asked the two of you up here is to get ahead of the rumors and to find out what your opinion of your department is. Are there things that could change to keep this sort of thing from happening again? Personnel that you think are not living up to their job description? Other teams that work together better than others?”
“Well,” Collins began, “I think—”
“I’d rather hear what Mr. Philips has to say.”
Philips’ eyes widened. Collins shot him a glance, and he cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable as he readjusted the way his leg was crossed over the other.
“I think the department could use better oversight. Right now, things are pretty much, ‘Do as you please.’ If we had a little more structure, a little more accountability, I think things would run much smoother.”
I nodded. “And how do you think we should go about doing that?”
Philips shrugged. “Removing Thomas is a good step. Perhaps a stronger leader would be beneficial. Someone from the outside who doesn’t have preconceived ideas about the creative teams.”
“I would disagree, Mr. Brooks,” Collins said. “I think the department would be better run if someone from the inside were promoted. There would be less upheaval in that instance.”
I inclined my head. “Thank you, gentlemen. I’ll take that under advisement.”
I stood up, indicating that they should go.
Philips immediately stood and shook my hand. Collins hesitated. I looked at him, and he seemed intent on saying something more. But then he changed his mind. He stood, shook my hand with a limp touch, and followed his partner out the door.
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