“I’m going to screw it all up,” she blurted out. “I always do.”
Before I could respond to such a ridiculous statement, someone cleared their voice behind us. When I turned, I found a food delivery kid staring at us with impatient, raised eyebrows. “Szechuan Palace. You called in a delivery, right? Apartment 312?”
Reagan looked to me for an answer.
“Yes.” I restrained my irritation and backed off from Reagan far enough that I could face the high school aged young man and hand over enough cash for the bill and a generous tip. He pocketed the bills quickly and pushed the food at me before bounding back down the stairs.
When I turned back to Reagan, she was unlocking her door and avoiding my gaze. I had honestly been starving when leaving work, but now my hunger leaned toward answers and Reagan. Dropping the takeout boxes on her kitchen counter, I grabbed her wrist as soon as she’d locked the door and yanked her up against me.
“I want an answer,” I growled. “I’m not letting go until I get one.”
“I gave you an answer.” She tried to pull away, but the effort was weak.
Shaking my head, I dragged her across the living room to where she disappeared the night before to change her clothes. Her eyes widened and she tugged against my grip. “The food. It’ll get cold.”
“That’s what microwaves are for,” I said before pushing the door open.
Expecting a real bedroom, I momentarily forgot my frustration with her as I stared at the cramped space. Between the bed, dresser, and single nightstand, there was barely a two foot width to move around between the pieces of furniture. My jaw was set when I pulled my gaze back to her. She cringed under my contempt.
“It’s not that bad,” she said.
Pushing her to stand in the minute space between her bed and dresser, I raised a brow when we were forced together. “Not that bad if you were fresh out of college with no money and an uncertain future. That is not you. Why are you still living in this ridiculous little apartment?”
“It’s not ridiculous,” she snapped. “It’s comfortable, and close, and maybe I like small spaces.”
I backed her up against the dresser, pinning her arms to the drawers. “You like being this close?” I challenged.
A sly smile spread across her beautiful lips. “Yes, I do.”
Calling her bluff, I edged closer, pinning her entire body between mine and the cluttering piece of furniture. “You like small spaces between us? Like this?”
She gasped when my erection rubbed against her front. “Yes,” she moaned.
The need in her voice made me even harder, but I couldn’t relent just yet. Backing away as far as the limited space would allow, I held up my hands. She stumbled forward before catching herself and pressing her hands to the dresser.
“Tell me why, or this is as close as I get for the rest of the night.”
Pouting, Reagan honestly seemed to consider that for a moment. What would she not want to tell me? A hint of worry crept in over my intense need to have her. “Reagan, I’ve seen your résumé. You had a stellar college career and your boss at the textbook publisher you worked for had amazing things to say about you and damn near tried to talk me out of hiring you because he didn’t want to lose you. What are you talking about? What have you ever screwed up?”
Reagan flinched and looked down at her fingers knotted in front of her. “The last time things were this good…I…things just got really messed up, and he blamed me even though…I mean, I didn’t think I was doing anything wrong, but…” Her voice cracked and her breathing hitched. The way she was blinking said she was trying to hold back tears.
“He?” I demanded as my fists clenched.
Her gaze darted up at the fierceness backing my words. Worry spread through her features. Shaking her head, she tried to move away from our confined spacing, but I refused to let her escape an explanation and pressed my hands against the dresser to box her in. She froze, then seemed to admit defeat when her shoulders dropped.
“My junior year of college,” she began resignedly, “I had an internship with the university’s academic publisher.”
I nodded, remembering the mention of the prestigious win from her résumé.
“Anyway, it was amazing, and my boss taught me so much. I was so excited and eager to learn about publishing, I’d often stay during lunch or after I clocked out to ask him questions and pick his brain. He was an older man with decades of experience. I think he enjoyed having someone to talk to as much as sharing his knowledge. He’d eagerly promised to write a glowing recommendation for me when I graduated, which I knew could be huge for me.”
That gave me pause, because I did not remember seeing any sort of recommendation in her file, but perhaps it had been too long ago for her to feel as though she could include it when she applied to the magazine. Not sure that was the case, I listened patiently.
“Anyway, that whole year, I’d been dating this guy, even living with him that spring semester. He complained about the amount of time I spent at work, but never anything beyond an occasional argument, until…” Reagan’s hand quested out, resting on the side of the dresser as though she thought she might need something to hold onto.
My gaze moved from her hand to her face, and I was startled to see how pale she’d become in just those few seconds. “Until what?” I asked rather than demanded this time. My body seemed to move on instinct, stepping closer, my hand resting on her hip as the fingers on my other hand threaded into her hair. She leaned into my touch as she searched for comfort, but her eyes squeezed shut at the memories I was forcing her to endure.
“A month before the end of the semester, I, um, well, my period…it didn’t come.”
Stilling in the face of her words, my fingers stopped moving through her hair. “You were pregnant?”
She shivered, eyes still pressed resolutely closed. “I told David I was late. I was scared, but we’d been together for a year. We had plans. His marketing degree and my graphic design degree would go hand in hand, and we felt confident of landing good jobs here in the city and getting a nicer apartment. I thought he’d at least be willing to talk about it, help me figure out what to do, even if he was freaked out too.”
A tear ran down her cheek, and she was too upset to wipe it away. Fearing what she might have to add to the story, I asked anyway. “What was his response?”
“He accused me of sleeping with my boss.” A sob wracked her body and she fell against me, arms wrapping around me as she pressed her face to my chest. “He didn’t believe it could have been his because he always wore a condom and I was on the pill. That was why he thought I’d stay during lunch or after my shift ended. When I denied it, he was furious. Scared by his reaction, I tried to leave. I got as far as the stairs before he grabbed me. When I tried to get away…he swore he didn’t push me, but I woke up at the bottom of the stairs with paramedics hovering over me.”
Shocked, I didn’t know what to do. I remembered her freezing when I’d asked her why she thought I would have been angry with her if our night of unprotected sex had led to a pregnancy. We’d simply been having a discussion up to that point. Then she shut down without explanation. Now I knew why. Wrapping my arms around her more tightly, I struggled between compassion for her and wanting to rip her ex’s fucking arms off his body for causing her harm, whether it was intentional or not.
“The police reported it as domestic abuse, and urged me to press charges, but it led nowhere. His word against mine. As soon as the semester ended, I went to stay with my dad and never said a word about any of it to him,” she said. Swiping at her eyes, she nuzzled her cheek against my chest even though she couldn’t possibly get any closer. “The thing was,” she whispered, “I wasn’t even pregnant, just unusually late. Stress, most likely.”
“Are you sure?” I asked regardless that her taut body said she didn’t want to keep talking about what had happened. “Maybe the fall…”
She shook her head. “When they took me
to the ER, I asked them to do a pregnancy test and it came back negative. Exams, big projects, tension between David and me, the doctor said it just messed up my hormones. It was all over nothing.”
“But it showed you what a fucking asshole he was,” I said angrily. “You stayed away from him after that, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” she reassured me. “We’ve never spoken since that day. I didn’t date anyone my senior year, and really haven’t even dated since graduating, except for a few double dates Emily talked me into. Nothing like…this.”
Pulling back from her just enough so I could see her tear-streaked face, I asked, “Are you admitting that we’re dating?”
Reagan rolled her eyes, but a small smile played at the corners of her mouth. “Well, given that when faced with a similar situation you didn’t turn out to be a fucking asshole and are here with me right now after a crazy couple of days, maybe I am willing to let you call me your girlfriend.”
“There may be other ways I turn out to be a fucking asshole,” I said, “but I won’t hurt you, Reagan.”
She hesitated, pressed her lips together, and then nodded. “I think, maybe, I’m ready to believe that now.”
“You think?” I asked, teasing though my emotions were still a firestorm. “You think? What do I need to do to convince you?”
For a moment, I thought she was going to tease me back, but then her expression grew more serious. “Make love to me,” she said quietly.
I knew what she was asking immediately. Regardless of the fact our first time together wasn’t something either of us were going to forget, she didn’t want to be fucked. She didn’t want to keep having to wonder if I was using her to get over an obsession. She didn’t want to put her career at risk for mindless sex. Reagan needed to know I wanted something more and wouldn’t turn on her like that bastard had.
Without saying a word, I swept her into my arms and carried her the short distance to the side of her bed. It wasn’t exactly fear in her eyes, but uncertainty, a suggestion of disbelief that I actually meant everything I had told her up to that point. Furious she had been made to doubt someone would want her and wouldn’t try to break her, I was forced to concentrate in order to be gentle as I laid her down on the bed.
“Don’t move,” I said. She didn’t look as if she planned to, but the worry in her eyes made me uncertain. That changed as I reached for the buttons of my dress shirt.
She seemed to forget a sliver of her anxiety with every button I freed. Anticipation replaced fear. The way her eyes slowly widened and took on a glazed quality made my cock harden, but I refused to give in and continued to slowly remove my shirt. She swallowed hard when I unbuckled my belt and started on the zipper. I loved how her fingers curled around the bedsheets as I let my slacks fall to the floor and she could easily see how much I wanted her. I pulsed with need, every part of me wanting to be free, but my boxer briefs remained in place as I put one knee on the bed and straddled her slender frame.
“Now it’s your turn,” I warned her.
She squirmed in anticipation, but bit her lip as I slid my hands up the curve of her hips. I felt her thighs press together beneath me as she tried not to respond. Hooking my thumbs under the hem of her blouse, I caressed every inch of her skin as my hands slid upward to the edge of her bra. She whimpered when I stopped there. Her lips pursed and she twisted her fingers in the blankets more tightly.
Without pushing the blouse any higher, my thumbs flicked over her nipples, now hard and pressing against the thin fabric. Moaning as she closed her eyes, her hips shifted, brushing her pelvis against my cock without meaning too. I grunted, wanting to take her, but reminding myself of what she’d asked for. Resisting at least looking at her any longer was too much to ask, however, and I pushed her blouse up over her breasts and removed it from her entirely when she instinctually lifted her shoulders.
“Fuck, Reagan,” I said as I saw her, “don’t ever wear this bra to work again.”
“What?” she asked, eyes hooded but confused. “Why?”
I couldn’t even bring myself to drag my gaze away from her breasts. Doubting Reagan had a bra like this before getting involved with me, and knowing it wasn’t the one from Claudette’s that had been sent over that first morning, I could only assume that either Emily had picked it out or it had arrived in the package I’d asked to be sent over the second morning. I hadn’t checked the contents before Reagan had taken it to go change. It was a good thing. If I had known that was what she’d been wearing that day, I never would have let her leave my office.
“It’s just lace,” I said.
Reagan frowned. “I assumed you liked lace, since both times you’ve had clothes sent over for me, there were lace bras.” She shrugged, her expression saying she’d rather I got back to undressing her than debating fashion choices.
“I do,” I said, “but, God, this one, it’s just lace. The second you get excited, your nipples are completely visible through the thin fabric. You wore this to work today? With a silk blouse?”
Red crept into her features as she realized how uncomfortable that could have been. “Well, it’s not like I walk around the office turned on all the time,” she said with an edge to her voice. Then she really blushed and I couldn’t resist.
“Not all the time, huh?” I grinned down at her. “But some of the time you do? When, Reagan? When do you find yourself wanting this at work? Only since we’ve been seeing each other, or before?”
The second her blush deepened, I knew the answer.
“How long?”
“Since day one,” she whispered, embarrassed but, at the same time, emboldened by the admission. A sultry smile played at the curve of her lips. “Every time I met with you alone in your office for a progress report…I’d have to hide in my office for an hour, and I got absolutely nothing done. I would fantasize about you following me, pretending you had something you’d forgot to discuss with me during the meeting, and locking the door after you came in so no one could disturb us.”
My grin widened as I lowered my hips to hers just enough that her clit pressed against the base of my cock. She gasped and lifted her hips to increase the pressure. Without relieving the tension, I leaned forward and whispered in her ear, “If I had known you were wearing this today, that’s exactly what I would have done.”
Reagan moaned, the way her eyes glassed over hinting she was imagining exactly what that would have been like.
“What would you do,” I asked, “to relieve all that need, the sexual tension your fantasies built up, the desire you felt when we were near each other but couldn’t do anything?”
Expecting her to blush again, I was surprised when Reagan’s eyes closed and she slid her hand down her stomach to slip her fingers beneath the waistband of her slacks. Swinging my knee back over her hips, I attacked the button and zipper, stripping the pants off her body as my breathing rose and my cock swelled and hardened to an almost painful level. The tips of her fingers were still beneath her lace panties, but unmoving. Eyes open, she watched me, waiting for my reaction. I wasn’t sure what I looked like when our gazes met, but whatever expression I wore gave her the answer she wanted.
Slowly, her fingertips began to swirl back and forth in tiny circles. She kept her gaze on me, while mine bounced between hers and her hand. I couldn’t get enough of either. Her eyes rolling back every time she hit a particularly sensitive area made my cock ache, yet seeing her fingers push down into her warmth to wet them before coming back to rub her clit almost completely undid me. She was so fucking sexy, I didn’t know how much more I could take.
Her ministrations increased in speed, the panties getting in her way as her eyes squeezed shut and her breathing escalated. In one motion, I tore the fabric from her body and she whimpered her appreciation and she continued to pleasure herself.
“This,” she panted, “I would think of you…wish it were…you.” She sucked in a desperate breath as her body rolled with need.
I couldn’t de
ny her. Sliding my hand under hers, I took over, making her gasp in ecstasy as I pushed two fingers into her wet core. Her muscles contracted around my fingers instantly, making me groan. “God, Reagan, you’re so amazing. I want to fuck you so badly right now, but I’m going to make you come for me first.”
“But,” she whined, her hips pushing against my hand, taking my fingers deeper, “but I want more, you, inside me. I need…”
Spearing my fingers as deep as I could go without hurting her, I watched as her eyes flicked open and her mouth froze in pure pleasure. “I’ll give you both,” I promised before pulling my fingers back and making her body shudder.
Reagan’s eyes squeezed shut again, her hands fisting the blankets as if preparing for the ride she was about to take. Intending to prove her right, I slowly pushed back into her warmth, my thumb running over her swollen clit and making her bite her lip.
“Don’t hold back,” I commanded.
She shook her head. “Neighbors…the walls…too thin…” She could barely get the words out as she panted.
Moving in and out, increasing speed with every movement, bating her, I said, “Fuck your neighbors.” Before she could react, I had my mouth on her clit, sucking as I plunged my fingers into her.
“Oh God,” she moaned, finally, one hand pressing to the back of my head, refusing to let me stop.
Only partially satisfied in making her forget her fears enough to vocalize her pleasure, I wanted to steal her mind completely. Nothing should hold her back. She was unprepared for me to take my mouth lower and went completely still as my tongue slid down her folds. For a brief second I worried I had crossed a line of what she was comfortable with, but then I felt her thighs trembling as she made a valiant attempt to hold back her orgasm so she could revel in the pleasure a little longer.
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