Seven Hot Nights in Greece

by Rose Lange

  Demure and reserved in the office, but a fierce wild woman in the bedroom. Thoughts of their recent lovemaking, and her tattoo made his cock twitch. That alone inflamed his passions.

  As though sensing his presence, she turned, and tossed a coy, shy smile over her shoulder. “Hey there.”

  “Hey.” He crossed his arms over his chest and continued watching her.

  She finished her task, shut the fridge, and turned toward him. Shifting from foot to foot, she took that luscious lower lip between her teeth. Something she did when her nerves got the best of her.

  “Sorry, I borrowed your shirt. Hope you don’t mind.”

  Walking slowly toward her, he shook his head.

  Grasping her chin between his thumb and forefinger, he murmured, “Not at all. It’s actually becoming on you.”

  Her skin flushed a light rose-pink as she lowered her lashes. She shot him a trouble-making smile before inching closer and dropping to her knees.

  His heart banged against his chest as in one swift motion, she removed his boxers and his cock sprang free. Bobbing much too close to those lips and, heaven help him, she wasted no time, taking his shaft into that delicate hand.

  Emma sucked on his shaft and drew him all the way in. Releasing him, she repeated the motion and took it one step further. Moaning, she licked the end with her tongue and tasted him as though he were an ice-cream cone. Then—oh fuck me—she slipped her tongue lower. Starting at the bottom, she licked his balls until she reached the top, holding on to him with the other hand, before taking him in her mouth again.

  He hissed out a breath. His stomach clenched. Steadying himself on the counter with one hand, he watched the erotic sight, unsure of how long he would last, even though she’d just started.

  Holy Jesus, but this was too much. He was ready to fucking explode. His jaw ticked as he tried to hold himself together, but quickly lost the battle.

  “Enough. That’s enough.” The rasp of his voice annoyed him, and he hated that he sounded weak.

  She released him.

  He looked down, seeing a saucy grin spread across her face.

  “Damn, but you’re going to get it. It’s time for round two, sweets,” he murmured.

  ~ ~ ~

  The next morning, Emma smiled, recalling that he’d more than made good on his promise. The little bit of soreness between her thighs would be a small price to pay.

  Patrick was a wild animal in bed.

  Then a stab of conscience broke through. She’d broken her rule of never sleeping with a co-worker again. Had she made a huge mistake?

  Patrick was her partner on a large project, and now her partner in bed as well.

  Emma shook her head, putting such thoughts aside for now. She popped out of bed and went to take care of her morning business. After brushing her teeth, she turned out the bathroom light and made her way back to bed.

  Using her palm against her cheek, she propped herself up and watched him. Patrick was sexy, even in a rumpled state. She grinned from ear to ear, not able to stop staring.

  Taking her by surprise, he opened one eye and threw a sexy grin her way. “Hi there.”

  She gently grasped the side of his face. “Hi.”

  Unable to resist, she kissed his mouth, and he eagerly greeted her tongue with his. He slid his hand through her hair and cradled the back of her head. She rolled onto her stomach then wrapped her arms around his torso.

  “Minty fresh,” she said. “Did you wake up earlier?”

  “Yep. You look adorable asleep, by the way.”

  She shook her head and almost admitted she felt the exact same way.

  “Damn it, but I wish we had another condom,” she whispered against his lips.

  He chuckled and was about to lean in for another kiss when the front door opened and closed.

  “Emma? Emma, are you here?”

  Her heart thudded in her chest at the unexpected sound of Sarah’s voice. She leapt out of bed and shut the door partway.

  “What the hell is she doing here so early?” she whispered to herself.

  Annoyance pricked her inner thoughts as she watched Patrick, lying there casually, and naked as the day he was born.

  He chuckled. The sexy sound hit her right down south. Right where she wanted him to be if Sarah hadn’t shown up.

  “She’s supposed to be housesitting for three days, damn it.” She talked, mostly to herself, as she put on her robe, blindly throwing his pants, T-shirt, and dress shirt at him, followed swiftly by his underwear.

  “Hey, is that any way to treat a guy?” He yanked on her arm and she tumbled back into bed. His naked body pinned her to the mattress.

  Hypnotic eyes drew her in like magnets, just as they had that first day in the elevator. Just as they had on their trip overseas, when she decided to take him as a lover for crazy-ass, hands-down, best sex of her life for an entire week. Just as they had each and every damned time he locked eyes with her. She could stare at that handsome face all day long and never get bored. He gave her a wolfish grin, and what little was left of her senses melted away.

  Oh my . . . yeah.

  “Sweetheart, keep staring at me like that, and I don’t care if Sarah is here. We’ll play hooky, and spend all day in bed,” he murmured against her mouth.

  She arched into his touch and braced herself against the wicked-good assault. She threw her head back, and he took advantage, parting her robe to expose one mound. Suckling on the sensitive bud, he laved the puckered nipple, and pinched the other through the material.

  She moaned. If he kept this up, they would never get to work.

  The idea held great appeal. She’d become a sex-addicted hermit and keep him as her love slave. She would chain him to her bed, available and ready to suit her salacious whims.

  In her Patrick-induced coma, she didn’t even hear Sarah come down the hall.

  “Knock, knock. Emma, are you here?” Sarah didn’t wait for her reply and entered.

  Emma locked eyes with Sarah, her eyes wide like saucers. “Whoa, there, sorry!” She walked out, shutting the door behind her.

  Emma shook her head and pressed a palm to her forehead. Glancing down, she took in Patrick’s state of undress, his groin still pressed against her, his ass bare. Rising out of the bed, she tied her robe tightly around her waist with shaky fingers. Hot flames licked the sides of her face.

  Patrick followed suit. Picking up his clothing, he made short work of dressing. “Well, I guess I’d better be heading out. I need to head home, take a quick shower, and get ready for work.”

  Glancing at the clock, she breathed a sigh of relief. It was only 6:45 in the morning, plenty of time to get ready for the day ahead.

  He greeted a quick hello to Sarah, but Emma kept walking, ignoring her friend’s still wide-eyed gaze.

  Emma opened the front door, leaving it slightly ajar, and stepped out into the hall. She pulled the robe closer around her neck, and came face to face with him, seeing a grin split his face in two. He drew her in, placing a brief, chaste kiss to her mouth.

  “I’ll see you later, Emma.”

  “Later.” She waved him off and watched his departure.

  Going back inside, she shut the door behind her and went to fix herself a cup of strong, black coffee, something she’d desperately need to get through today, especially after last night.

  She recalled the shocked expression on his face when she’d dropped to her knees and taken him into her mouth.

  Sarah had a smug grin on her face. “So, how’s it going? By the looks of it, well, I take it. And what do you call that?”

  Her roommate waved her hand in the general direction of the living room where various notes, pens, highlighters, and files still littered the floor.

  A giggl
e erupted involuntarily as she recalled how things began last night, and oh boy, how wonderfully they’d ended.

  After clearing her throat, Emma took a tentative sip of her coffee then sat at the kitchen counter. “I thought you were house-sitting for your brother and his girlfriend.”

  Her friend shrugged. “They came home early. Stop evading the question. Tell me all about your, no doubt, interesting evening. Although I can pretty much guess what you’ve been up to.”

  Emma brought the mug of steaming hot liquid to her lips. “You assume right, dear friend.”

  Sarah giggled into her mug then set it aside. “By the way, and I’m sorry, but he has a really nice ass.”

  Chapter 9

  He’d broken all the rules.

  One, don’t sleep with Emma, because you can’t offer her anything other than a casual fling. What had he been thinking?

  He should regret last night but with every fiber of his being, he couldn’t.

  He’d grown so comfortable around her these last several weeks. The way they’d worked and played together felt natural. The sound of her unabashed laughter when he’d tickled her teased the edges of his brain. The way she’d fit way too nicely in his arms.

  He tried lying to himself that last night had only been casual sex, but he knew better. The connection with her went beyond the physical, just as it had been years ago.

  Funny thing was, in college, they’d both agreed to no-strings-attached sex, but damn it, his heart had gone and gotten involved, and it had never felt over for him. He’d been foolish then and paid no mind to his feelings, or hers for that matter, to discard her as he had.

  One night, for God’s sake, and Emma already scared him, making him feel things he didn’t want to feel, bringing back emotions he’d buried deep and forgotten about.

  Stripping of his clothing, he paused.

  Emma’s scent clung to the fabric of his shirt, and he took a moment to indulge, burying his nose into the material.

  Wow, that’s enough. Get a fucking hold of yourself.

  Shaking his head, he tossed the item onto the bathroom floor, dropped his pants and underwear, turned on the water to a comfortable lukewarm, and stepped in.

  His body welcomed the spray as it pummeled heated skin. He’d had a taste of her sweetness, not once, but twice.

  Pressing his hands to the shower stall, he closed his eyes and pictured creamy white skin, quivering from his touch, and pert breasts like liquid honey in his mouth. A perfectly rounded behind. Oh Lord. She hated that part of her body, but he begged to differ.

  That first day in the elevator came to mind.

  Dear God, from that moment on, the floodgates of the past had been thrust open, and warming Emma’s bed last night threatened his emotional wellbeing.

  It was too late to go back.

  ~ ~ ~

  Emma tapped the pencil against her folder in tandem with her foot and glanced at her watch for the fifth time. She’d also checked her email more times than necessary, refilled her coffee twice, and visited the supply closet four times.

  Nothing worked. No amount of mindless errands set her mind at ease.

  Oh, she’d mixed business with pleasure all right. She’d gotten into bed with it and made herself at home, the sex twice as gritty, twice as sexy as it had been in college.

  Good Lord, the sex had knocked her shoes, her socks, her equilibrium, and everything else, right the hell off.

  A light rap at the door sent her thoughts scattering. She swiped at the slight perspiration gathering on her forehead. Lowering her hand to her lap, she sat up straight.

  You need to keep your cool, Emma. Come on now. Get it together.

  Patrick’s commanding presence swallowed the doorway.

  The morning light only enhanced his handsome, chiseled features. A crisp white shirt, canary-yellow tie, and a navy-blue suit complemented his frame. Her heart kicked up at the sight of him. Her toes curled as she pictured the raw, sexy perfection beneath. Warmth bathed her cheeks as she recalled that sinful blowjob she’d given him in the kitchen.

  She cleared her throat. “Good morning, Patrick.”

  “Morning, Emma.” Shutting the door partway behind him, he took a seat across from her.

  Focusing on her notes, she decided she wouldn’t bring last night up.

  She almost laughed at such a ridiculous concept.

  Crawling into bed with Patrick was not something she’d ever forget, no matter how hard she tried. It had been the most mind-numbing, delicious, and toe-curling sex she’d had in years.

  She opened her folder to distract herself. “Okay, then let’s get started.”

  Within seconds, he gently shut the folder. She took several deep breaths before glancing up to meet his face.

  “Anything wrong?” she asked.

  “Not a thing.”

  Straightening her shoulders, she cocked her head and studied him. The heat emanating from his face singed the ends of her hair. The nub between her legs tingled and made her fidget as she recalled how he’d blown her mind when he’d put his mouth there.

  Unable to take this stare-down contest anymore, she abruptly stood, and he did the same.

  As maddening as ever, he casually stood there, hands in his pockets, assessing her with that magical, mind- bending stare.

  “About last night, I’m sorry if I was too forward. That is, I—” She stopped, noticing his eyebrows rising into his hairline.

  A lethal grin spread across his face, and he stepped closer to the desk. “Come on, Emma. We’re both consenting, single adults, and we have nothing to be ashamed of. Believe me, you have nothing to apologize for.”

  She palmed the flat surface with damp hands and momentarily thought common sense would prevail. “It’s just that. We are co-workers, Patrick. I would hate for things to get messy. Although it’s probably too late for that. Things are already sticky.”

  The piece of furniture separated them, but he leaned forward, until they were-face-to-face, putting his palms over her hands. Goose bumps traveled over her arms upon contact. Temptation made her want to bridge the gap and steal a kiss, as his scent—body wash, mixed with aftershave, mixed with Patrick—filled her nostrils.

  “I like sticky,” he murmured against her lips.

  She tied her common sense to a chair, kicking and screaming, and tipped her chin toward his mouth. A loud knock at the door sounded, effectively stopping the almost kiss. She quickly pulled away then swiped her damp palms down her skirt and watched him take a seat. He scratched the back of his neck, and she took great satisfaction at the hint of a blush on his face.

  Seconds later, the door opened, revealing Sarah’s smiling face. “Sorry if I’m interrupting anything.”

  Emma straightened her shoulders. “Not at all. What’s up?”

  “Would you like to take a coffee break?”

  Emma nodded. “Yes, that sounds great. Patrick, we can resume our work then.”

  As soon as the words flew out, she realized her error and tried to ignore his amused chuckles as she made her exit.

  ~ ~ ~

  Lunchtime arrived, and it couldn’t have soon enough.

  Antsy for fresh air, and with plans to meet his brother, he powered down his laptop and made his way out. As he made his retreat, he caught a glimpse of Emma’s profile. She was seated at the edge of Sarah’s desk. My God, the beautiful sight had him momentarily transfixed. Her laughter pinged the air. It was the sweetest sound, and he would never tire of hearing it.

  Clearing his throat, he kept moving before he made a royal fool of himself.

  The warm, spring air filled his lungs as he stepped outside.

  Holy fucking cow, but he needed to get his mind back in order before this consumed him whole.

&n
bsp; Five minutes later, he arrived at little tucked-away, Italian restaurant not far from the office.

  Right away, he spotted Mike, flirting with a curvy, brunette waitress. He hung back for a few moments and watched as she wrote her phone number on a piece of paper. She whispered something in his brother’s ear then walked away. She tossed a flirtatious glance over her shoulder as she swung her hips.

  Patrick shook his head as he approached the table. “Hey, thanks for meeting me.”

  Mike took his eyes away from the brunette’s ass and cleared his throat. “No problem, bro. What’s going on?”

  Patrick took an appreciative guzzle of water before answering, “Same old, same old.”

  A few moments later, a pretty blonde waited on them then left them to their conversation.

  Mike gave him an inquisitive glance. “Are you sure about that?”

  No. Hell, no. He wasn’t sure. Words couldn’t articulate how he felt since he’d slept with Emma, something he swore he would not do, because he’d inevitably sink.

  Seeing a waving hand in front of his face, Patrick looked up.

  “Wow, bro. I haven’t seen you this tied up over a woman in a long time. I have to tell you, I love it.”

  “Why don’t you mind your own damned business, okay?”

  Mike leaned back and studied him. “You slept with her.”

  The blunt statement made Patrick squirm in his seat.

  “Yeah. So.”

  “Yeah so, nothing. Give me some details.”

  He wasn’t trying to be a prude, but he didn’t wish to share his time in bed with Emma, where they’d shared more than their bodies. They’d shared their souls—the connection so deep it tugged uncomfortably at his insides but he’d already begun to welcome the pain.

  “Fuck off, Mike.”

  ~ ~ ~

  After a fruitful, and fairly comfortable, eight hours working alongside Patrick, he’d invited her over his place for dinner. Emma dashed to her bedroom after work, quickly changing into jeans, a white lace camisole, and a light sweater.