He’d known she would gasp, and had been ready to capture her surprise and hint of pleasure. The question seemed to startle Reagan. Her gaze darted from me to my hand. Afraid she felt threatened, I forced my palm flat against the counter, pressing hard against it to keep control. Her slender fingers twitched, hesitated, then timidly reached toward the curve of her neck.
“He startled me,” she said.
“Touching your neck?”
I moved toward her, barely in control of myself any longer. “Like this?” I trailed the back of my hand down the length of her neck, making her whimper as her fist tightened even more.
“Yes,” she breathed. Then she shook her head. “No. Not like that. His was just a touch, to surprise me. Not…not…” She bit her lip. “Not sexual.”
“Good,” I growled, even though I knew Brandon wasn’t interested in her like that.
Staying close, keeping my fingers against her neck, I clicked to the next image. “This one?”
She shook her head. “Nothing. I just blushed after he touched my neck, embarrassed by my reaction.”
Relieved he hadn’t done something to make her uncomfortable, I went to the last image, the one of her facing the camera. Reagan gasped when she saw. “No, he said none of the pictures would show my face.” She shook her head, panicking.
When she started to spin away as if looking for some way to fix the problem, I caught her wrist and pulled her back to me. “This one’s not for his show,” I said. She froze, her shoulder brushing against my chest as she debated whether or not to believe me. “It’s for me,” I told her. “He gave it to me. Just me.”
Confusion spread across her features. “I don’t understand. You asked him…”
“No,” I said. “He just knew, somehow. He sent it, releasing full rights to me, and told me I was a fucking idiot if I didn’t do something about my feelings for you.”
Her breathing kicked up a notch. “Do you…it’s not just…” Her voice trailed off, too flustered to finish her thought.
“I’ve wanted you since the day you interviewed. I almost didn’t hire you because I wasn’t sure I could control myself around you.” I shook my head, not sure I should have admitted that. “It’s been killing me to see you every day, watch you walk by my office in those t-shirts that are too big but seem to hang in a way that makes you even sexier than if you’d been wearing something skin tight. Being alone with you in my office…God, I can barely look at you without bending you over my desk.”
Her eyes were so wide, I saw whites all the way around and panicked. I pulled back, afraid I had scared her, but her hand gripped my sleeve, holding me. Her other hand spread out from the fist she’d been holding it in and ran down over the curves of her breasts to press against her ribs. Her gaze seemed locked on mine, desperate. Filled with need.
“Have you…” I started to ask, amazed it might be possible.
She was nodding before I got another word out. “Yes.” She swallowed, sliding her hand up my arm and down over my chest. “Yes,” she said again. “Every day. Every minute.”
That was my breaking point. Grabbing her hips, I yanked her up against me and crushed my mouth against hers. She responded immediately. Hands coming up to cinch against the back of my neck and pull at my hair, she showed no more hesitation. I reached around her, my forearm and hand pressing against the length of her back so every inch of her was against me. She gasped, then moaned as my erection ground against her hips.
“Oh god,” she whispered before kissing me again.
Hearing her reaction stole what was left of my control. Twisting my fingers in her hair, I moved her head back, exposing her the tender flesh of her neck to me. I wanted to punch Brandon for touching her there. Yanking her head to the side, she gasped when I closed my mouth over her pulse point, sucking against her skin as her body moved in rhythm with me. She strained against my hold. Arching, so her flesh was closer to my mouth, it pushed her breasts against my chest.
She was on her tiptoes, arms wrapped around my neck, when I cupped her ass and pulled her flush against me. Her legs wrapped around my waist. It pinned her hips against mine, and I felt her push herself against my cock for just a moment before pulling back. Abandoning her hair, I slid my hand down her back to join my other hand in pressing her even closer. She cried out when her clit ground up against me, but responded by pressing a debilitating kiss to my mouth.
Unable to stay standing without help, I fell forward, pinning her between my body and the wall. There was no space between us, but somehow she manage to get both hands to my chest, pushing back slightly as she fisted my dress shirt in her hands. For a full two seconds, we stayed that way, staring at each other with a million questions in our eyes. As though she knew what I was asking, her head bobbed up and down.
I couldn’t resist any longer. As I kissed her, my hand worked to free my belt buckle and yank down my zipper. I wasn’t sure if I set her down or she wriggled out of my grasp, but suddenly her feet were on the ground and she was doing the same. I forgot my own clothing and grabbed both her wrists. Shock froze her. Panic widened her eyes as I drew her hands above her head and pinned them there with one hand.
Her stomach, partially bared from our frantic movements pushing the sweater up her torso, trembled when I brought a hand down to the button of her slacks. She convulsed, moaning, as I undid the button with one hand. One quick motion pulled the zipper down. Instinctively, her hips began shifting back and forth, begging me to free them of the fabric.
I complied, slipping my fingers beneath the fabric and sliding it down her hip. She bit her lip, whimpering when the fabric stopped moving, until I moved my hand to her other hip and continued the descent. I stopped when the pants slid down far enough to reveal the wetness soaking through the lace panties. Reagan, though, kept moving, inching the fabric down her legs until it was loose enough to step out of. She kicked them away without dislodging the ballet flats she was wearing. The effect undid me.
Releasing her hands, I grabbed her hips and lifted her back against me, pushing her against the wall with such need that she cried out. I worried for a moment that I had hurt her, but her fingernails dug into my shoulders and she arched away from the wall, pushing her breasts toward me in an expression of her pleasure.
I kept one hand securing her between me and the wall, but the other grappled with her sweater. It fought moving, trapped between her flesh and wall, but Reagan was as desperate to get rid of it as I was and moved however she could to release it. As soon as it passed her gorgeous face, I tossed it away and pulled the cup of her bra down from her breast, exposing the nipples that had tortured me in that first photo. Reagan gasped when my mouth closed over the hard peak, sucking, biting lightly. Her fingers twisted in my hair as she moaned.
My cock hardened even more with every sound of pleasure she uttered. I could feel her wetness dripping from her, sliding down my pulsing length. In one quick movement, I lifted her higher up the wall and crushed her against it a second time, her entry poised just above my cock. She was gasping for every breath already. As I let her slide down just enough that tip of my penis pressed against her opening, she swallowed a cry and curled her arms around my head.
I pushed, just barely, into her warmth. She groaned deep and long. Rolling her body, she unintentionally pushed her nipples against my lips. Her grip on my hair drew a hiss from me, but I kept sucking, kept pulling her tender flesh into my mouth as I rocked my cock against her entry. Reaching down, I pushed the lace away and shifted just enough that my tip rubbed across her clit. Her muscles tightened, wetness coating me, making me impossibly hard.
“Reagan, baby, do you want to come for me?” I gasped. My own need was staggering, but I refused to leave her unsatisfied.
“Yes,” she breathed. “Please. Oh god, please. Make me come.”
Her pleading was echoed by her body as she pushed me deeper into her. I could barely stand up, crushing her against the wall, but I gripped her hips and rocked her tow
ard me. She was so tight. I had to fight to enter her. Hot, slick wetness welcomed me, but her muscles were wound so tight they squeezed me nearly to the point of coming before I was fully buried in her. Sheer will held off my orgasm as I worked to secure hers.
Knowing I couldn’t hold on much longer, I picked up pace, struggling to get fully inside her before coming without hurting her. Fearing I was too rough, I glanced up at her. I shouldn’t have. Eyes rolled back in pleasure, one hand cupped her breast as the other ran up her throat. Breaths heavy, she gasped with every thrust of my hips. There was no slowing after seeing her like that. Harder and faster, I drove into her.
“Oh, please. Yes! Don’t stop! Oh god, please, please,” she begged until her muscles quivered and her thighs stiffened. She couldn’t catch her breath as the orgasm built within her. The way her body convulsed urged me on, bringing me to climax just as she reached hers. Hot, delicious warmth burst from her core, her desperate muscles milking my orgasm as I poured everything into her.
***
I could barely think as he held me pinned against the wall. Never before had anyone made me feel like that. I was still struggling to catch my breath. My entire body felt like jelly, something I clearly demonstrated when he tried to set me down and my legs buckled. His hands were at my waist before I could fall, then he was sweeping me into his arms. I clutched at him, drawing a worried expression to his face.
“That wasn’t how I intended for this to happen.” His brows pinched together, concern bringing an edge to his features.
“Don’t…apologize,” I whispered. Somehow in the middle of it all, he managed to bring out a side of myself I never saw outside of work. Now, I was back to fearing it had all been a dream. A really, really good dream. “It was…incredible.” A breath quivered out of me, weakening me all over again as I thought of the pleasure he had just given me.
Relief washed through him, but he tried to hide his doubts. “Would you like to, uh, shower?”
“Alone?” I squeaked, not sure what I wanted his answer to be.
His hand came up to my cheek. “Whatever you want.”
The fire in his eyes startled me. He meant it. Not just in this situation. How had I not seen it before? I couldn’t bear to say it, but I wrapped my hand around his and squeezed it tightly.
Seeming to know exactly what I wanted, he set me back down once he was sure I was steady enough and began leading me toward his bedroom. I tensed at the idea of being in his personal space, but he kept tugging me after him. He didn’t stop until he made it to a darkened doorway and reached in to turn on the light. Dim light flooded the room. A deep, luxurious jet tub filled an entire corner while a tiled stall shower filled the other. I didn’t pay attention to anything else.
“Bath, or shower?” he asked.
The very thought of getting in a warm bath with him made my insides clench. We’d just had sex, but it still felt too intimate. “Shower,” I said uncertainly.
He stepped away, his hand trailing across my abdomen longingly. I didn’t know what to do, other than stand there, as he turned on the water and adjusted the temperature. He noticed my discomfort when he turned around. While I stood there in my bra and panties, he was still fully dressed. The unfairness of that made him smile.
Apparently feeling the need to even things out, he started unbuttoning his dress shirt. His gaze stayed locked with mine as his fingers deftly loosed the buttons one at a time. I could feel myself getting wet again just watching him. Suddenly, I was regretting my choice of a shower over the bath tub. Not reaching out to help him, get the fabric off his beautiful body even faster, had me wrapping my arms around my middle. Only the sight of long, jagged scar running down the lower left side of his abdomen was capable of distracting me, but only for a moment.
I had no idea how I was going to handle being around him at work the next day. The second we were alone in his office, I’d be thinking about what he’d said, picturing him fucking me on his desk. My fingernails dug into my flesh as I tried to banish that thought. Him finally removing his shirt and tossing it aside didn’t help. I pressed my thighs together and leaned back against the counter for support.
At some point he had zipped his pants back up, but the belt buckle still hung loose. I stifled any sort of reaction when he pulled it free and dropped it to the tiles. When he reached into his back pocket to remove his wallet, I didn’t pay it much attention to it until it landed on the counter next to me and I noticed the corner of a condom poking out the top. Panic hit me square in the chest. I wasn’t the only one who saw it.
“Fuck,” Mr. Gabriel said, drawing my gaze to him. He rubbed at his chin as he tried to hide his alarm. His head shook back and forth once as he closed his eyes.
Frozen and completely uncertain on how to react in that moment, I said nothing and didn’t breathe as I attempted to rein in my own panic. I knew next to nothing about my boss’s personal life. Emily mentioned that he hadn’t dated in quite a while, but that was no guarantee he hadn’t been sexually active during that time. What if he satisfied his needs in some other way, and not by himself? My breathing picked up and I rested my hand on the counter for support.
“Reagan, I didn’t…I mean…” Finally he looked up at me and I couldn’t stop myself from flinching. “Are you on any form of birth control?” he asked, though he looked pained to have to be so blunt.
A certain amount of relief filtered into my thoughts that that had been his first concern and not passing something on to me. I honestly didn’t think my boss was that type of guy, but I had no idea and had let my lust take control of me.
“Yes,” I whispered, “though it’s just been a precaution lately, not something I’ve actively needed.”
He swallowed and let out a carefully controlled breath. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I never should have let myself get so carried away without making sure you were protected. Even still…” He shook his head. My stomach dropped, panicked all over again that he was going to make some sort of admission.
“Reagan, I’m not sure how to say this without being blunt, so…” He shrugged in apology. “I’m clean. You’re not at risk of contracting anything from me. I don’t have unprotected sex, ever. There’s no excuse for my behavior, though.”
“I’m…I’m clean, too,” I said quietly, still hugging myself.
Regret washed over his face. He reached toward me, but pulled back immediately. “I wasn’t worried,” he said. “I hope that’s not what you think made me panic.”
I wasn’t sure whether to be offended or take it as a compliment. Did he think I wasn’t capable of getting a guy interested enough to be a risk? He’d admitted to thinking I was beautiful, but I was quiet and didn’t dress very nice. Or did he see me as a careful person who would take precautions and be responsible? My indecision must have shown on my face.
“I just can’t seem to stop making a fucking ass of myself tonight.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “I didn’t mean that badly. Frankly, I’m constantly surprised you’re even single. A gorgeous, smart, thoughtful woman like you should have been swept away, out of reach to me, before now. I feel like I know you well enough to judge the type of person you are when it comes to sexual matters, and I honestly was more concerned about having scared you or put you at risk of getting pregnant than anything else. I hope you can forgive me for acting so rashly.”
Breathing in slowly, I said, “It wasn’t just you who wanted it and wasn’t willing to wait.”
“Still,” he said, “I’m the one who’s been doing the pushing lately. I wanted you so badly, it made me do things I wouldn’t normally.”
It was another confusing comment for me to puzzle out. Half-compliment, half-blame. I felt as though I needed to apologize, but what would that sound like? I’m sorry for being too irresistible? My features bunched together and I felt myself pull back from him on instinct. He saw it and froze.
“Fuck, I’m doing it again,” he growled. Frustration was thick in his voice. “None
of this is your fault. It’s not even…there’s nothing to regret or be upset about. I loved every second, the feel of your body cinched up against mine, my cock buried inside of you as your muscles clenched around me…”
Like my hormones and emotions were on some kind of manic roller coaster, heat sprang to my center at his words. The confusion and fear from moments ago was fading, but I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing. My body leaned toward him without my approval, making me gasp as he did the same.
He closed his eyes and exhaled. Without opening them, he said, “Maybe I should let you shower on your own. I’m not sure I trust myself right now.”
Before I could object or disagree, he brushed past me and closed the bathroom door behind him after escaping. Shocked, and more confused than ever, I simply stood there for several long seconds. I tried to take everything he’d said at face value. I mostly believed him that he wasn’t angry with me. What I was more unsure of was whether or not he trusted everything I had said, whether he thought this whole night had been a mistake, and what would happen next.
Finding answers wouldn’t happen standing in Mr. Gabriel’s bathroom, half naked. So, I removed the bra and panties he’d bought for me and stepped into the shower. Feeling completely uncomfortable, I washed as quickly as I could, disturbing as few of his personal items as possible. By the time I turned off the water, I was convinced he would be waiting for me by the door, ready to drop me off at my car and be done with this entire situation.
The problem with that was, I realized as I glanced around the bathroom, I had nothing to wear. The majority of my clothes had been left in the kitchen. There was nothing wrong with my bra or shoes, but my panties were too wet to put back on. Not about to walk out there in just a towel, I risked overstepping and grabbed Mr. Gabriel’s bathroom from a hook. I cinched it around myself, making sure nothing was visible that shouldn’t have been, and opened the door.
Finding the bedroom empty, I tiptoed out of the bathroom and toward the door. Psyching myself up to open the door and face him was almost as bad as coming out of the dressing room for the shoot with Brandon that morning. I couldn’t exactly hide in his room all night. Suppressing my anxiety as best I could, I twisted the knob and peeked out.
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