Seven Hot Nights in Greece

by Rose Lange

  Bare chest to bare chest, the sound of thready breathing between them sent her pulse flying.

  “God damn it, Emma.” The huskiness in his voice shot white-hot sparks through her toes.

  Emma free-fell and grasped his shoulders while he took one breast in his mouth, suckling until the nipple ached with need. His tongue caressed the sensitive, swollen bud before he moved to the other and gave it the same treatment.

  His steady gaze matched hers, but he never spoke, as a seductive tease of a smile darkened his face. Without warning, he dropped to his knees in front of her.

  Agonizing seconds passed as he smoothed his hands up her stocking-covered legs and pushed her skirt upward and around her waist. She helped him along and lifted her rump in the air, while he removed her panties until they lay crumpled and abandoned on the floor. Leaving her with only her skirt around her waist, and already wet with need. He raised an eyebrow and smiled a slow, hot, sinful smile, as he made his descent to her inner thighs.

  Scattering kisses near the juncture, and purposely bypassing it, he caressed her derriere, and gave her a semi-rough squeeze. She bit the inside of her cheek, trying to stave off a moan. He was doing the most delicious things to her. She wanted his tongue between her thighs right this minute.

  “Patrick, you’re killing me.”

  Her stomach lurched with excitement as he met her gaze. “Lie back for me, baby. All the way back.”

  His words sparked her fire, and she momentarily lost her train of thought. Her capability to speak failed her. She did as he asked and felt exposed beyond her nudity. Silence engulfed the space as she waited. Tilting her hips in a silent invitation, she looked down just as he made intimate contact. Laving her most sensitive skin. The bud between her thighs ached and begged for him to take more. She gyrated against his mouth, and unable to control herself, she released the moan she’d been stifling.

  Rolling her head back, she closed her eyes, unable to watch him any longer. As appealing a sight as it was, she couldn’t.

  “Oh my. You are so . . .” But the words got lost on her tongue, as his lips, teeth, and tongue did the most amazing things.

  He continued pushing her further over the edge, and relentless in his pursuit, he sucked on the tender, aching bud. She wanted to beg him to replace his tongue with another part of his anatomy, right fucking now.

  Using his hair as an anchor, she grasped the back of his head. “Patrick, I want you inside me. Please. Take. Me. Now.”

  He grasped her bottom and brought her closer. Her orgasm hovered over the edge, and she hitched a breath. Her shoulders tensed, as wave after wave of orgasm rolled and rippled through her. Her body went lax as her hands tightened, grasping his hair.

  “Yes, oh Patrick, yes. Yes!”

  Currents of the strong orgasm rolled and ripped through her. She took a slow, steady breath, and opened her eyes. Swiping the sweat off her brow, she watched him rise to a standing position and quickly remove his pants and underwear.

  Patrick, naked, was quite a sight to behold.

  He shook his head, as if something just occurred to him. “Shit, I don’t have a condom.”

  She sat up, supporting herself with her elbows, and greeted his frustrated gaze. Her nerves suddenly got the best of her as a salacious idea came to mind.

  “I have one in my purse,” she murmured, “but before you put it on, there is something I’d like to give you first.”

  A wicked grin covered his face, but he didn’t speak.

  She stood, removing her skirt before she got on her knees, staring into his handsome face and seeing heaven. Then, without hesitation, she grasped his cock between her hands, and took him in her mouth, sampling as if he were the best tasting thing on earth.

  “My fucking God,” he murmured.

  Spurned by his desire, she laved the tip of his cock with her tongue and began stroking the hard shaft. She didn’t look up as she continued to pump while she feasted. Licking him like a lollypop, she lapped up the bead of pre-cum sitting at the tip, and his body tensed against her. She knew it would not last much longer, not even for her.

  “Emma, please. I can’t take much more.”

  Stealing a glance upward, she gave a small smile, observing his eyes glaze over, his breath coming in short bursts as he watched her.

  Ignoring his protests, she used her hands to stroke and tease. Her teeth nipped at the sensitive erection, grasping it between her hands, before she took him into her mouth again.

  “The white flag is out, please. No more.”

  She couldn’t resist. “How I love to hear you beg.”

  He swiped the sweat off his brow, and his features darkened. After grabbing his coat, he laid it on the table, and handed her her purse.

  She found the condom, tucked away in a convenient spot, and handed it to him. He quickly tore open the wrapper and rolled it onto his thick shaft.

  It didn’t take long before she was back on the table, and he sheathed himself to the hilt. No matter how many times they’d made love, it always felt like the first time.

  Only then, after the mind-blowing oral sex, did reality hover over her brain for a millisecond. “Patrick, what if somebody walks in?”

  “Fuck ’em,” he growled, “Then they’ll have one hell of a show, won’t they?”

  Leaning in, she gifted soft kisses to the side of his neck, toward the edge of his jaw, and realizing, she could never get enough.

  Her lust. Her jealousy. Her confusion. Her passion. Her love. Everything went into the kiss, and she didn’t care that they were buck-ass naked and having sex in the conference room.

  He broke the kiss. His expert hands explored her waist, her hips, and his mouth nuzzled next to her ear. “Damn it, Emma. You feel fucking incredible.”

  She grasped either side of his handsome face, unable to stop herself from staring because for the rest of her life she couldn’t picture sharing her life, or her bed, with anyone else.

  Oh, I’m in trouble. This isn’t casual sex. Who are you fooling, beside yourself, Emma?

  Love. She was in love, had never really fallen out of love, and was now in way over her head. Her lids drifted shut as she leaned her face into the crook of his shoulder. Tears burned the back of her eyelids, and she fought it for as long as she could, but she lost the battle. Warm, unwelcome tears slid down her cheeks, wetting the side her face. She hated herself for weakening.

  Just as she prayed he wouldn’t notice, his body stiffened against hers.

  He frowned, swiping her tears away. “Hey, are you all right?”

  “I’m fine. Please, kiss me.”

  Gentle at first, he pressed his lips against her, but before long, the kisses were ravaging. She cocked her head, greeting his tongue, and basking in his sweetness, tasting the essence of her juices on his tongue. He seared a path down her neck, then her shoulders before cupping one of her breasts in his hand, and took the other in his mouth. Suckling on the still-aching bud and taking his time, he teased the nipple with his thumb and forefinger.

  “Bend over the table, Emma. I want to take you from behind,” he demanded, his voice brooking no argument.

  His words knocked her shyness right over, and she palmed the smooth surface. She briefly hesitated, self-conscious of her ass. His experienced fingers smoothed down her shoulders, the small of her back, and over her derriere. Her breath hitched as he lazily caressed the sensitive skin.

  Boldness overtook her as she bent over and spread her legs, feeling vulnerable and exposed in more ways than one.

  A guttural grunt sounded from behind her, and his breathing quickened. Getting into the highly erotic moment, she tilted her bottom against him, eliciting a groan from Patrick that nearly brought her to her knees. Her eyes rolled heavenward. Oh yes . . . Now was definitely not the time to
be self-conscious.

  Patrick wanted her, her, with the much-too-large ass, hips, and thighs. Her, with the freckles she’d always hated, and wished she could be rid of. He didn’t care, and in fact, seemed to enjoy her curves, and oh boy, did he feel amazing as he entered her moist and ready heat. She shivered, as his hands grasped her ass and squeezed.

  “Bend all the way over, baby, and put your chest against the table. I want to be deep inside you, Emma.”

  The needy, sexy ache in his voice sent her further over the edge as she bent over, until her cheek and breasts made contact with the cool surface. He rubbed her bottom while he continued to move his hands up her back, until he reached her neck and lightly blew a kiss there.

  Then he grasped her ass, and spread her wider before he entered her, and oh my. His cock shot red-hot pinpricks through her body, and the angle hit her G-spot, hard.

  Sucking in a breath, he eased his hands upward and palmed her breasts, cupping the tender flesh. He toyed with her nipples, shooting a deep ache through her.

  “Oh, you feel amazing, Patrick. Please fuck me. Fuck me . . .” Her toes pressed against the soft carpeting.

  Quickly, almost too quickly, she felt the stirrings of another orgasm, reaching her second peak much too fast. As if reading her mind, Patrick tightened his hold on her hips and let out a ferocious growl before he climaxed, releasing himself inside her.

  “Oh, Emma, my God.” He reached completion, but didn’t withdraw right away, as if content to be exactly as they were.

  Fearing she’d fall over if she moved the slightest inch, she remained where she was. Body ground to mush, limbs like a limp noodle.

  He withdrew, and she stood, turning to face him. What little breath she had left her body. He palmed her face within his hands and rested his forehead against hers. “That was incredible, Emma.”

  She smiled a watery smile, unsure of what to say so she said the first thing that popped into her mind. “I can’t believe we did that.”

  A hearty chuckle made his chest vibrate against hers. The sweat there intermingled with her own, and she never wanted to leave this damned room, and in fact, she wanted him all over again.

  “Believe it, babe.”

  Chapter 12

  Emma tossed and turned for the better part of the night.

  A glance at the alarm clock confirmed it was only four-thirty in the morning, which would lead to a day of dragging total ass at work.

  Between her brain, body, and mind, everything hummed from her escapade with Patrick. Tormented was a more accurate word because as amazing as the sex had been, that wasn’t even the real problem.

  It had been sex with Patrick, and had left her emotions in a tangle. Her feelings took on a life force of their own, scaring her more than she cared to admit.

  Sitting up, she turned on the bedside lamp, rested her arm on her forehead, and closed her eyes. Frustration bloomed in her chest, swirling like a funnel cloud, and uncontrollable tears gathered. Warm as they fell down the hills of her cheeks.

  Her feelings for Patrick grew stronger with each passing day. Fear of allowing herself to completely let her guard down held her back. What if it all ended in heartache again?

  A light rap at the door made her sit at attention, and she swiped the moisture away.

  “It’s me, Ems. Can I come in?”

  “Yeah, Sarah. Come on in.”

  The door opened, and her friend’s sweet face appeared. She held out two cups of what smelled like chamomile tea. The soothing aroma comforted, and Emma smiled.

  “Tea, for you, my dear.” Sarah sat next to her, handing her a cup.

  “How’d you know I needed this?”

  “I thought, in light of everything that’s been going on lately, this would hit the spot”-she paused-“so, you sure had a late evening.”

  Emma took a tentative sip before speaking. “I had sex with Patrick.”

  Sarah grinned from behind her mug. “Honestly, that doesn’t surprise me. What’d you go back to his place?”

  “No, we had sex at work, in the conference room.”

  Sarah nearly choked, and her eyes went wide. She set her cup down on the nightstand, wiping the front of her T-shirt with one hand. “Holy shit. You’re kidding me, right?”

  Emma shrugged and took another bracing sip. “I wish I was.”

  “What is it, Emma? I know something is bothering you.”

  No plausible lie came to mind and vocalizing her feelings seemed impossible. She wasn’t sure what to make of them herself either.

  “I don’t know.” And she took another sip.

  “You love him.”

  Geez, but her friend read her so well. Emma smiled a watery smile, tears already re-gathering in her eyes, and made tracks down her cheeks. “Yes. I’ve always loved him, Sarah.” Her voice quivered. “Always, damn it.”

  “How does he feel? Has he ever told you?”

  She grabbed a tissue and blew her nose. “No.”

  Her friend leaned back against the bed railing, crossing one arm over her chest. “I don’t know, Emma. I think it’s pretty obvious how he feels about you, even if he hasn’t told you.”

  Emma sat back against the bed. “I don’t know about all that.”

  She proceeded to give Sarah an abridged version of everything she’d been feeling. The good, the bad, and the ugly ending with a censored version of tonight’s happenings.

  “Thank you, Sarah, for listening.”

  “Anytime. So, sex in the conference room? Bet you’ll never look at that room the same way ever again.”

  Flames of embarrassment engulfed her as she covered her face.

  She could hear her friend chuckle.

  “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  ~ ~ ~

  The next morning, Emma braced herself as she entered the office with Sarah. After a late-night visit and tea from Sarah, she’d managed to sleep soundly.

  She would get through this day in one piece.

  As she walked past the conference room toward her office, her pulsed thumped, as memories resurfaced as if they were playing in real time. She pictured him, taking her from behind, giving her the most divine, mind-bending pleasure.

  Turning her gaze away, she couldn’t stop the flames that engulfed her neck and traveled down her chest.

  Geez, this is exactly what I don’t need right now.

  Telling herself to stop thinking of last night only made it worse. Picturing Patrick salivating, grunting, and lapping up her curves with greed.

  Shooing the thoughts away, she used tunnel vision to tuck tail and rapidly walked to her office.

  The door stood propped open when she arrived, and a tiny shaft of light glowed from beneath the door. Entering, she found Patrick sitting on her desk, a single, beautiful yellow rose in his hand and a mischievous smile on his face. She covered her mouth, closing the door behind her.

  He got up and walked toward her. “Good morning, Emma.”

  “Patrick.”

  He handed her the flower, and almost instantly, it felt as though he was courting her. Her cheeks heated under his intense and wicked stare, a sure-fire and embarrassing giveaway against her fair skin.

  “I love that,” he murmured, leaning closer.

  She lowered her lashes. “Love what?”

  “When you blush like that. Tells me exactly how you feel. And those freckles.” He caressed the side of her face. “I love those too. Always have.”

  She melted like a vat of chocolate at the candy factory. Shaking her head, she finally met his gaze. “You’re ridiculous. What’s this rose for? It’s lovely.”

  “I’d like to ask you on another date.”

  “Okay, when and where?” She tried not to fidget, because, damn it, he s
till caressed the side of her face, lowering his hand to the spot between her neck and shoulders.

  Cradling the back of her head, he whispered his next words against her lips. “It’s a surprise, sweets. Saturday morning, be ready by eleven. The rest you’ll have to wait and see.”

  ~ ~ ~

  “Do you want to tell me where we’re going, please?”

  He’d not said a word when he’d arrived at the apartment, but simply handed her the blindfold, ordering her to put it on.

  Playing along, she happily complied, even if she wasn’t too keen on surprises.

  “Don’t you like surprises, Emma?”

  She laughed. “Hell no. Come on, give me a hint.”

  The warmth of his hands encompassed hers as he linked their fingers together. She loved the feeling of his strong but soothing hand over hers, his fingers connecting with her own, and her heart beating at a wildly rapid rate.

  In the back of her mind, the stirrings of her feelings nudged the edges of her brain, as if wanting to her finally acknowledge them, but she didn’t know how, or even where to begin.

  She’d finally admitted it to herself that she’d fallen in love with Patrick again, and had been completely in love with him for as long as she could remember. Honestly, as much as part of finally admitting that, scared her, another part of her felt . . . good. Patrick made her feel safe, cherished, and protected.

  She could see herself growing old with him, waking up to see his face every morning, before she laid her head to down sleep.

  He then lifted her hand and pressed several soft kisses to the back. “You’ll see.”

  Finally, the car stopped and he cut the engine.

  “Can I take the blindfold off now?”

  His laughter vibrated through her, and she could hear the excitement in his voice. “Not just yet, hold on.”