by Cassie Cross
“That’s a momentous occasion, we should celebrate.”
Cole was in trouble. Big trouble. But he didn’t care.
“What did you have in mind?” he replied, his voice low.
Abigail grabbed his tie, pulling his mouth to hers. She kissed him—hard—her tongue brushing up against his. Cole pressed harder, needing more kisses, wanting her to remember that he’d been there long after he was gone. Abigail swung her legs over Cole’s until she was straddling him, and then she hesitated a moment, looking at the cockpit door.
“No one’s going to come in here,” Cole whispered, attempting to reassure her as he lightly nibbled her earlobe.
Abigail pulled away to look at him. He suspected she was trying to figure out whether or not she should trust him.
“I promise.”
That seemed to be enough.
Cole unbuttoned Abigail’s blouse, sliding his hand down the placket, relishing in the silky softness of her skin. Then he reached up, gliding his fingers along the lacy cup of her bra and pulled it down, exposing her left breast. Their eyes met as he moved closer to her, then he licked the taut pink bud of her nipple in a lazy circle before taking it between his teeth, smiling as she stifled a moan. When he repeated the same motions on Abigail’s other breast, she ran her fingers through his hair. He loved the way her fingernails gently scraped against his scalp, lighting his nerves on fire, making him want her even more.
As if she sensed Cole’s need, Abigail slid one hand down his chest until it came to rest between his legs. His cock was hard, pressing against the inside of his thigh. His eyes fluttered as Abigail moved her hand in feather-light strokes over the fabric of his pants, driving him crazy.
“I want to taste you,” she whispered, right against his lips.
Cole’s mouth turned up in a lazy, satisfied smile. He loved it when a confident, beautiful woman took control of a situation, and he was all for Abigail having her way with him.
She kissed his neck, sucking the skin there, then slowly slinked down Cole’s body, unbuttoning his shirt as she went along, kissing each spot above the button as it was exposed. He felt as if her lips were made to kiss him; he’d never had such a reaction to another woman in his life. He wanted her mouth on every part of his body.
Abigail trailed her tongue along his abs, making his muscles tighten and his breath speed up, and blew warm puffs against the wet trail of skin. It was such a sensation, Cole couldn’t help the noise that escaped his mouth. Abigail slid down over his erection until her knees touched the floor, and Cole looked at her through hooded eyes. At that moment, he was putty. Completely pliable in her hands. She could ask him for anything, and he would give it to her.
Abigail rubbed her hand across Cole’s rock-hard erection and he drew in a sharp breath as he bucked his hips against her palm, wanting, no…needing more. The more he tried to get some much-needed friction, the lighter she would touch him. This woman knew just how to drive him crazy.
“Tease,” Cole said in a low, breathy growl that spurred Abigail on.
She unbuckled his pants and slowly pulled down the zipper. He groaned when she finally pulled his boxers down far enough for his cock to spring free. She leaned back on her heels as her fingertips slid across his tender, heated skin.
“Your dick is perfect,” Abigail said. Cole loved hearing dirty words come out of that luscious mouth of hers, and he longed to feel her full, warm lips around his erection.
Abigail licked her hand and gripped him, sliding her hand down his hot, silky skin. Cole sighed, long and low, and he pushed against her hand as she repeated the motion.
Too soon she let go, and just when Cole was about to voice his protestations, Abigail pushed his legs back to give herself more room. Then, as if she was intent on driving him absolutely crazy, she kissed his abdomen, then the crease where his hip met his thigh. She kissed him everywhere but the one place he wanted her to. But, true to form, Cole didn’t rush her, he just slid his fingers through her soft hair, enjoying the sensation. Then Abigail bent down and licked the stretch of skin just beneath his sack, pressing her tongue against it, nearly making Cole jump out of his skin. He drew a breath between his teeth that made a long, slow hiss.
Abigail licked him from the base to the tip of his cock with an agonizingly light stroke of her tongue. A glistening bead of precum slid down the tip, and Abigail licked it away. The texture of her tongue was exquisite.
“I want to feel your mouth,” Cole said impatiently. “Now.”
“Not a big fan of delayed gratification now, are you?” she teased. But Abigail was never cruel, so she took him in her mouth with voracity, her tongue swirling around him as she gently tugged his balls. The warring sensations were the best kind of agony, winding their way from his belly all the way to the hairs on his head. Just when Cole didn’t think he could get any higher, Abigail took him deeper. So deep that he could feel the tip of his cock in the back of her throat. He watched her as she sucked him; her wide hazel eyes looking up at him under impossibly long eyelashes. Pink lips and a mouth that felt like heaven. She moved up and down his shaft, concentrating on all the right places before taking him deep again. Cole felt that familiar warmth creep up the base of his spine, threatening to explode.
As if on cue, Abigail slid her mouth down until she couldn’t handle any more of him. And then she swallowed.
“Holy fuck!” Cole had never felt anything like the sensation of her throat squeezing the tip of his cock and his breathing quickened, his fingers wound themselves through the hair at the crown of her head. The harder he breathed, the faster she went until he couldn’t hold off his orgasm any more.
Cole gently pushed her away, not wanting her to feel like she had to swallow. She refused, still sucking and swirling that relentless, perfect tongue until he exploded in her mouth, waves of pleasure rippling through his spent body.
“Christ,” Cole sighed. His head lolled back against his seat as he tried to catch his breath. His post-orgasmic bliss was short lived, however, since they had to prepare for landing.
“We’re approaching Chicago,” the pilot’s voice echoed over the loudspeaker. “Please fasten your seat belts.”
Cole twined his fingers with Abigail’s, then pulled her up and kissed her. His breath was still ragged as he pressed his forehead against hers.
“You don’t know what you’re doing to me,” he whispered. Although, at this point, he had a sneaking suspicion that she did.
CHAPTER THREE
THE LOBBY of the hotel was unlike anything Abby had ever seen before. Being that her budget always made her a Holiday Inn kind of girl by necessity, she never dreamed she’d be staying in a place like this. She couldn’t help peering out the window and watching the man in the tuxedo who was driving a horse-drawn carriage in the driveway.
Everything about the hotel was classy. High ceilings, elegant crystalline chandeliers, exotic flowers that bloomed out of vases that were almost as tall as she was. There was something in the air that made Abby want to stand up straighter, as if that would make all the rich people milling around believe that she was one of them. She wished she had a nicer pair of earrings to wear, although she knew that anyone in that lobby could spot a pair of cubic zircons from fifty paces.
“Come,” Cole said, holding out his arm toward her.
Apparently when you reach the point in your life when you’re able to book grand suites, you no longer have to check in like all the other plebes.
The elevator doors opened to reveal walls lined with rich mahogany. Cole swiped a card in front of a sensor before he was able to press the button for the 18th floor.
He stared at the numbers above the doors as they slowly rose. “Do you have your schedule?”
Abby nodded. “Yes.”
“Be ready to leave thirty minutes before our departure time,” Cole said, glancing back at Abby. “I’ll knock on your bedroom door when I’m ready to go.” Even though they were in an elevator a thousand miles from h
ome, taking orders from Cole felt so incredibly familiar. “I plan to work in the suite most of the time when we’re not in meetings. If you’d like to work in the common areas with me, that’s fine. If not, you may work in your room. During work hours, I expect your suite door to remain open in case I need you. Outside of that, I will respect your privacy. I’ll knock if I need you.”
The elevator doors opened and Cole handed Abby a key card. She slid it into her pocket.
Of course he didn’t address what I’m most interested in, which is what will happen outside of working hours. Then again, he seems to like keeping me guessing about that. Bastard.
Abby followed Cole out of the elevator and watched as he opened the door to their suite. She had prepared herself for luxury; plush carpets, fine furniture, antiques that were worth more than her life. But what she hadn’t prepared herself for was just how huge the suite would be. Four of her apartments could fit in there easily.
The floor in the foyer was a rich, shiny marble with elegant beige striped wallpaper. The foyer opened to a living room area with twenty-foot-high ceilings. There was even a dining room with a table that could seat eight. Along the far wall were windows that stretched almost to the ceiling, each one offering a gorgeous view of Michigan Avenue. The brake lights on the cars stopped along the street reminded Abby of Manhattan.
“Do you approve?” asked Cole.
Abby was startled by his voice and surprised by how close he was standing. She shrugged, sliding her index finger along the back of one of the dining room chairs. “It’ll do, I suppose.”
There was the slightest hint of a smile pulling at Cole’s lips. It amazed Abby how compartmentalized he could be. An hour ago he was licking her nipples, but to see him now, no one would ever know it.
“Your room is over here,” Cole said, walking toward a door on the opposite side of the living room. He opened the door, revealing a plush, fluffy looking bed with an antique headboard decorated with intricate blue flowers. The room had the same view as the others, full of bright lights and city. “My room is over there.” Cole pointed to a hallway on Abby’s right.
“You’ve been here before,” Abby said, noticing that he didn’t need a tour and he seemed to know where everything was.
“Several times.” Cole’s face was impassive.
“Alone?”
Ugh, Abby. That was stupid.
Cole looked at Abby for what felt like an eternity, and Abby hung on every second of silence, hoping that he would answer her question. But the non-answer said it all. He’d been to this hotel several times, probably with several different women. Abby’s heart sank, making her feel foolish. She had to keep reminding herself that this was just sex. Getting emotionally involved with this man was the absolute worst thing she could do.
“I have some work to do,” Cole said, his words clipped.
Abby nodded.
“I’m just going to change.”
Abby turned and went into her room, shutting the door behind her. Sighing, she flopped on the bed and buried her face in the soft, fluffy comforter. “Abby, you idiot,” she said, hoping that the verbal reminder would keep her from getting too personal in the future.
After she’d had enough wallowing, she sat up and unzipped her suitcase, then picked out a pair of jeans and a form-fitting black sweater. It was cooler in Chicago than it was in New York, and since her stomach was growling from not eating since lunch, she decided she’d go out and find something to eat.
Freshly changed, Abby ran her fingers through her hair and put on a bit of gloss before she headed back out into the living room. Cole was already in work mode, sitting in front of his laptop at the desk near the dining room. He turned his head slightly when Abby walked into the room, but he didn’t acknowledge her other than that. His sleeves were rolled up, and Abby could tell that his tie was beginning to come undone. She needed all the strength she could muster not to jump his bones.
“I’m starving, I’m going to go find some pizza or something. Want me to bring something back for you?”
Cole stopped typing. “If you’d like.”
It was arrogant words like those that drove her crazy, made her want to scream.
“Yes,” she said sarcastically. “It would be my dream to bring you dinner. Sir.”
“Abigail.” Cole practically growled her name as a warning.
“Mr. Kerrigan.”
Cole closed his eyes and clenched his fists, then let out a long sigh. “Yes, please bring me something to eat.”
Abby could tell he practically had to push the words out of his mouth and given his frustration, she felt like she won this round. She walked toward the door and just as she clasped her hand around the knob, Cole called her name.
“Yes?” she replied.
Cole turned and faced her, so Abby knew that he really meant whatever it was he was about to say.
“This trip is important, and our work here requires both of us to focus. Despite what my earlier behavior would lead you to believe, I didn’t ask you here to be…” He struggled to find the right words, and Abby knew that whatever they were, they were going to sting. “Intimate. I asked you to come with me because I need your brain, not your body.”
For once Abby knew that Cole didn’t mean that as an insult, but she couldn’t help but take it as one just the same. Of course the one man she’d like to want her for her body would want her for her brain. She nodded, unable to meet his gaze. “I understand,” she mumbled, trying not to sound too disappointed.
WHEN ABBY returned with the pizza, Cole was sitting in nearly the same position he was in when she left him. He kept typing as she walked behind him, like he didn’t notice her in the room. She put the hot pizza box on a marble-topped credenza next to the table, and pulled two paper plates out of the plastic bag that the cashier at the restaurant gave her.
After she served herself a slice, she put one on the other plate for Cole and brought it over to the table.
“I brought your food, are you going to tear yourself away from that screen long enough to eat it?”
Cole didn’t reply, and Abby took a bite of her pizza and practically moaned. It tasted like heaven. She grabbed a plastic fork and scraped off the sauce, then the cheese, leaving her only with the buttery crust. There was a bottle of red wine on the table that she didn’t recall seeing there before, with elegant glasses on either side of it.
“Do you mind?” Abby asked, holding up the bottle. Cole was finally walking over to the table, rolling his sleeves up even further. The whole rolled up sleeves and undone tie look made Abby want to jump him, and she suspected he knew that.
“It’ll come out of your per diem.”
Abby looked at the year on the label. “It will probably be my per diem. For the whole trip.”
Cole laughed, and the sound of it made Abby’s stomach flutter.
“Go ahead,” he said.
Abby poured herself a glass as Cole sat down, and he nodded as she motioned toward the other glass. She filled it and handed it to him, then proposed a toast.
“To my brain,” Abby said, trying to sound lighthearted.
Cole rubbed his lips together as his eyes met hers, and his gaze didn’t waver until he clinked her glass.
“To your brain.”
The look in Cole’s eyes was too much for Abby, and the room was suddenly too hot and too small. His gaze was still incredibly intense, so Abby focused on her pizza, taking small bites of the crust.
“Why are you doing that?” he asked, watching her intently.
“Doing what?”
“Eating like that.”
Abby couldn’t tell if Cole was disgusted or intrigued, so she looked down at the pile of sauce and cheese on her plate. “I don’t know, I’ve always eaten pizza like this.”
“Is there a reason, or-“
“I eat my least favorite things first and save my favorite for last. I know it’s disgusting.”
“Delayed gratification,” he said before
taking a sip of his wine.
“In pizza, yes. I’ve never been very good at it in life.”
When Cole finally looked away, he brought his slice up to his mouth and a huge blob of tomato sauce slid off the pizza and onto his pristine white shirt. Abby nearly laughed, because she never imagined Cole with an imperfection so common as a food stain on his shirt.
“Shit,” he sighed, standing up.
Abby got up and grabbed a bottle of club soda from the bar, then a washcloth from the bathroom.
“Here,” Abby said, wetting the washcloth with the soda. “This should get it out.”
Abby dabbed at the stain, watching the deep red fade into a subtle, muted pink. Cole’s chest rose and fell quickly beneath her hands, and Abby wanted to press her hand over his heart just to see if she could feel it beating. There was electricity between the two of them, crackling, and Abby dared to look up into Cole’s eyes. As always, they were focused on her. She wanted to dive into them; they were like little portals into his soul, and she needed to know what he was thinking.
Cole reached for her hand, and his fingers trembled when they touched hers. He tossed the washcloth on the floor before wrapping his arms around her waist, bringing her closer to him, crushing her against his chest. Her arms wound around his neck and their lips crashed together in frantic, hurried kisses. His tongue brushed against hers, and she gripped him tighter as his hands slid beneath her ass. Before she knew it, he was lifting her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist and pressed her lips against his neck.
Cole began walking, and before long he put Abby down on the soft couch. His eyes were fierce as he unbuttoned her jeans, sliding them off into a heap on the floor. Abby pulled off her sweater, too impatient to wait for him to do it. He was too busy anyway, stripping his clothes off until he was naked.
Cole spread Abby’s legs and slipped between them, lifting them up until her feet rested on the coffee table behind him.
Her heart was pounding so hard she could see her pulse thumping beneath her skin, and there was a current flowing through her veins, buzzing every time Cole touched her. He reached up and pulled down her panties, tossing them on the floor, and then he slid his chin along the inside of her thigh.