by Abby Gordon
“Asshole deserved it,” growled Grant. He shot her a quick glance. “I’m still pumped up with adrenaline so…”
“You’ll need an outlet for all that energy?” she guessed smiling.
“One way of putting it,” he grunted, stopping at a red light. “Right up there,” he pointed. “That’s where that billboard was of you and those roses. My fantasies about you started with that ad.” His left hand covered hers on his right arm. “I kept that magazine. It’s in my study. I never thought I’d have the real thing.” He smiled.
On the spot, Francine decided to recreate that for him. Later, when he wasn’t expecting it. Maybe on his birthday or some other special occasion. She still couldn’t believe what he’d done — crashing a black tie event and punching the grandson of a leading doyenne! But it so fit with everything she’d learned about him as they’d talked and…she nibbled her bottom lip.
“Stop that,” he said quietly, turning the car’s engine off.
“Stop what?” she asked, lifting her chin.
“Well, I’d say thinking, but I have a feeling you, Heather and your friends, would turn me inside-out,” he grinned, getting out of the car. When he’d opened her door, she stepped out. “Let me look at you.”
She couldn’t believe the look in his eyes. It was as if he couldn’t get enough of her, as if he didn’t want to stop looking at her. She watched his gaze travel up the full red satin skirt to the fitted bodice and to the embroidered band just over her breasts. Could a man look at woman like that and not be in love with her? She hoped not. She hoped it meant more than ‘how fast can I get her out of that dress and into bed.’ That sentiment was fine, but she needed the emotions now. Needed that reassurance only he could give her.
Slowly, his arm went around her waist and pulled her to him. His other hand caressed her side, slowly moving up until it cradled the back of her head. In his eyes, she saw everything she’d ever wanted.
His mouth covered hers with gentle passion. Her hands went to his shoulders, pulling him closer. The strength and warmth of his embrace filled her and she trembled, filled with feelings she didn’t know how to express. She held him tight as his mouth explored the smooth column of her throat. He nipped the sensitive nerve at her collarbone and she gasped.
“Grant, please,” she sighed. “Take me home.”
“Oh, definitely, sweetheart,” he promised, lifting his head. “I have to tell you this first.” His hands held her face again. “The hardest thing I’ve ever done was walking out of that room Sunday. I…I won’t do a stupid thing like that again. I know I’ll do stupid stuff in the future, but I will never, ever do something to hurt you. And if I go somewhere, then you’re coming with me, understand? If you’ve got to go somewhere for your work, then I’m going with you. I won’t wake up without you in my arms again. You’ll be right beside me.”
“Sounds like heaven,” she smiled, tears in her eyes. “Unless you’ve got me on the spanking bench or tied to the bed.”
“Entirely different scenarios, baby,” he told her. “Don’t cry,” he shook his head, wiping a tear that slipped down her cheek.
“Happy tears,” she assured him.
“Let’s go see if we can make more then.”
Chapter Ten
He held her close in the elevator and drew her into the apartment. His coat fell to the floor and her cape followed. He pressed her against the door and devoured her mouth. With an eager moan, she pressed against him. Her hands went under his sweater and found the hard muscles underneath.
“Grant,” she panted. “It’s been forever. Please.”
His mouth was working its way along the top of the bodice and his chin pushed the fabric down until her nipples sprang free. He growled and latched onto one.
“Oh, God, yes,” she cried.
Her need to touch him overrode everything else. Her hands worked on the buttons of his jeans and dove in. Feeling his cock finally in her grasp, she hummed. Oh, yeah. This was what she’d needed. Her man, so eager to have her that he couldn’t get her past the front door. His hands were pulling up her skirt as she pushed his jeans and boxers over his hips.
“I’m going to fuck you right here,” he warned her.
“To start with,” she nodded, pulling his sweater up. “I need to feel your body heat. I need to…”
He tugged his sweater over his head and tossed it in the general direction of their outerwear. Going back to her skirt, he pulled it to her waist and saw the scarlet lace thong.
“Very nice,” he observed. “I’ll buy you a dozen to replace it.”
Before she could fully understand his meaning, he’d ripped it off. Hands at her waist, he lifted her off the floor a few inches. Lust blazed in his eyes and she knew he saw the same thing in hers. The tip of his penis brushed against her pussy. Reactively, she felt her muscles clench as if he was already inside her.
“Master.”
His cock plunged inside her, buried to the balls in one stroke.
“Yes!” she shouted. “Please, fuck me, master. Hurry. Please.”
As he stroked in and out of her, as their tongues tangled, as their bodies pressed together, she knew she hadn’t really been alive until he’d touched her. She’d lived, but not felt. Not until he’d touched her heart.
Now, he was here. Holding her, kissing her, touching her. Fucking her as if his life depended on it.
“I love you,” she whispered, wrapping her long legs around his waist. She didn’t care that he hadn’t said it. He’d shown it in everything he’d done. And she couldn’t hold it back any longer. “I love you. Love you!”
She shouted as the orgasm tore through her. He kept stroking and she held her breath at the determined expression on his face.
“Come with me,” he told her. “Together, sweetheart.”
His mouth found hers and all the emotion they had held back during that first day together found release.
Still inside her, he rested his forehead against the door. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders. Her legs held tight at his waist. Breathing heavily, they recovered.
“I’m not sure what to do,” she whispered.
“Could have fooled me,” he commented, pulling some of the pins from her hair.
“That I’m figuring out,” Francine chuckled. “It’s called go with the flow of whatever you’ve got in mind.” She rested her head on his shoulder. “I meant…is the dominant-submissive stuff only in the bedroom? Or in public? What do I call you here or outside or…”
He nodded, intent now on combing his fingers through her hair.
“Definitely in the bedroom,” he said slowly. “I think we’ll have to figure out how far to take it as we go. I meant what I said in the garage. If one of us has to go somewhere, then the other goes. I guess we’ll have to work around your schedule a bit, but I really don’t take too many trips unless I’m going stir-crazy in the office. Three or four times a year, tops.” He gave her a serious look. “I have to tell you something, sweetheart. I’m not crazy about other men seeing my wife in her underwear or barely covered.”
“Your wife?” she repeated softly. “You really meant it.”
“Yeah,” he nodded, raising her left hand. “That’s what this means. I wasn’t doing that just for show. I meant every word.” Gently, his fingers wrapped around hers. “I love you, Francine.”
She couldn’t help it. The tears flowed and she buried her face against his chest.
“I love you,” she sobbed. “I…I didn’t think I could love someone as much as I love you.”
“Then why are you crying?” he frowned, stroking her back.
“Because I’m happy,” she told him, hiccupping as she tried to control her tears. “It’s been a rough, up and down week, darling. My emotions are scrambled a bit. And…when I didn’t hear from you, I was so sure I never would because you wouldn’t want anything to do with all the scandal and paparazzi. I realized you had had a really bad experience and I just knew that you wouldn’t wan
t to go through that again. And I didn’t want you to. And now…” She took a deep breath. “You think that was enough run-on sentences there?”
“I’m hardly going to correct your grammar,” he drawled. “Are tears something I need to get used to? I can deal with them, but when you cry, I feel like I need to do something to make you feel better. Or go punch something.”
She giggled and kissed the strong column of his neck.
“I think one broken nose will be enough, darling. I’m not usually so emotional. I’m usually fairly even-keeled but…”
“It’s been a rollercoaster ride week,” he finished, nodding. “I can understand that.”
“What did you go through?”
“I’m not going to get into that now.” He shook his head. Kissing the top of her head, he rested his cheek on the silky strands and closed his eyes. “Right now, I just want to hold you. Realize that this isn’t a dream or fantasy that’s going to be over at sunrise.” He felt her tremble. “Sweetheart?”
“Nothing,” she whispered.
“Try again. Only this time, the truth.”
She lifted her head and gave him a firm, don’t-mess-with-me-on-this look.
“Don’t leave me in bed, even to go to the office, without waking me up and saying good-bye,” she told him. “I might go back to sleep. I might get up and workout or eat breakfast. But don’t ever, and I mean I don’t care how much of a hurry you’re in, don’t ever leave without saying good-bye.” Her eyes narrowed. “Master or not, you’ll be on the couch for several nights.”
“I’m sorry. I told you how hard that was for me…”
Francine shot him a furious look and he snapped his mouth shut in surprise.
“After the most explosive orgasm of my life, after the most incredible sex of my life, I woke up to find those two silent women watching me. You weren’t there. You left as if it hadn’t meant anything. I felt abandoned. I realize that you’re the strong, silent type, but don’t ever do that again!” Her finger jabbed his shoulder. “Just put that on your list of things not to do. Right up near the top.”
“Got it,” he nodded. “Anything else?”
Slightly mollified, she studied him a moment. Knowing him, at some point he would remember her interrupting him and use that as an excuse to ‘punish’ her.
“I’ll let you know.”
Relieved, he kissed her and felt the need to take her again.
“We’re going to set new records,” he murmured. “But let’s at least get beyond the foyer.”
She felt better seeing the obvious contrition on his face as he’d listened to her describe waking up with him gone. And the way he obviously didn’t want to pull out of her. Her feet on the floor again, she took a couple steps and slipped out of her strappy sandals. He turned on the light before bolting the door and setting the security system.
“I’ve been thinking about you in my bed all week. Or bent over the spanking bench in my playroom.”
“You and me both,” she smiled as she pulled her dress up a bit. The words echoed in her head. He had a playroom. With a spanking bench. And he was already thinking about putting her there. A shiver of anticipation raced up and down her spine. No time limits or interruptions. There was no telling what he would do with her. She glanced over at him when she heard his laughter. “What’s so funny?”
“Beyond you covering yourself up in front of me?” he grinned, pushing away from the door to join her. “Just that we were probably thinking about the same things all week.” His finger slid along her collarbone. “How should I fuck you first?”
“The bedroom? Or the playroom?” she murmured, trailing her finger from the hollow at the base of his throat down his chest. “Whichever you prefer, master.”
“Well, I do have this fantasy,” he started, scooping her up in his arms.
“Really?” Francine purred. “We’ll have to make it come true.”
About the author…
Friendship and love are necessities. Love can blaze hot and fast, quickly fading. But with careful tending, it can last beyond any fantasy.
My parents met fifty years ago and their love story is always inspiring. I try to show a hint of that depth, breadth and dedication in my main characters.
Friends, whether near or far, have been incredibly supportive which is why I try to have a few scenes of the main characters, men and women, enjoying that warmth.
You can find me at
[email protected],
on Facebook as Abby Gordon,
and the author’s page on Amazon
Also Available
Beck & Call
by
Abby Gordon
Serena Traydon was tired of playing it safe. All her adult life, she’d done what was expected—worked hard, went to school, cared for her aging grandfather, and ignored her own needs. Just once, she wanted someone to take care of her and bring her passions to life. But those deeper, darker desires seemed so forbidden without the right partner.
Keith McLauren had spent years training for this moment. He was a Dom and a he’d finally found the perfect submissive. She might be his secretary but she’d never been at his beck and call. Could he make her his without ruining everything?
Chapter One
Through the partially opened door, Keith MacLauren heard laughter.
Again.
This was intolerable! He was the CEO of one of the nation’s, if not the world’s, most advanced and innovative computer software companies, and he couldn’t get a moment’s peace because every person in his company felt compelled to stop by his assistant’s desk.
Hearing the voices of two board members, Keith scowled and stood. Striding to the door, he flung it aside and prepared to lash out at the two dozen people crowded in the outer office.
His mouth gaped, while his eyes took in the scene. His brain managed to snap his jaw shut before a single syllable slipped past his lips.
A birthday cake sat on Serena’s desk, along with several wrapped presents. Nearly every surface around the room sprouted large bouquets.
Keith’s angry eyes flashed to the blushing face of his assistant of nearly two years.
****
Serena bit her bottom lip nervously. Oh, he was pissed! At her. His dark blue eyes were rarely calm, but now they were so stormy they seemed to crash with thunder. Why his anger was focused on her, she had no idea. It certainly hadn’t been her idea for everyone to traipse in and out all day. She’d never told anyone about her birthday, much less how old she was. Thirty. Why on earth would she be happy to be thirty?
Yes, she had accomplished quite a bit by completing her MBA and becoming executive assistant to the CEO. But, and it was a big but, she thought she’d be married and have two point five kids, a minivan, and be as blissfully happy as her sisters-in-law. But then she met Keith. She was amazed that someone only five years older than herself could have such presence, such charisma, such a potent force. Since then, Keith MacLauren had become the star of every intimate fantasy. She’d dated other men, but kept comparing them to Keith.
That morning, after her mother’s call had revolved around marriage and babies, she had given herself a stern lecture about getting over the infatuation with her boss and move on with her life. Bosses, especially CEO’s, did not have intimate relations with their assistants. That only happened in fluffy romance novels.
Serena took a deep breath and gathered her courage. She’d been with the company for nearly eight years, working her way up from an entry-level clerk to the executive assistant to the CEO. She’d been careful not to step on any toes, even as she made it clear she wanted to go as far as she could. It was obvious that a large number of people in the company liked her.
There was nothing to be ashamed of in having so many want to wish her happy birthday, dammit. Just because Keith was in the dark about her was no reason to get pissed. He’d made it very clear in her initial interview that professional and personal lives shouldn’t mix. Even if she�
��d disagreed, knowing that at some point the two intersected, she’d followed his rules. In her mind, he was losing out on quite a bit distancing himself from those he spent so much time with.
“Hello, Keith,” she said, pleased her voice was steady. “The conference call is in twenty minutes.”
“We’ll be out of her hair in ten,” added a former boss.
A young assistant, who had interned two years earlier and been taken under Serena’s wing, lit the candles.
Serena shook her head and sighed.
“Honestly, Claire, did you have to put thirty on it?”
Gleaming white teeth flashed as she finished and shook the match out with a flourish.
“Come on, quick,” she urged. “Blow them out before the fire department arrives.”
Giving the younger woman a withering look, Serena took a couple deep breaths and blew out the candles. To applause, she laughed and gave a mocking bow. Taking the large knife from Claire, she made the first cut.
“Okay, someone else take over,” she smiled, returning the knife to Claire. “And take this away so I don’t eat the entire thing.”
“Like you need to worry about that,” replied Claire. “I’d kill to have your figure.”
“When you’re thirty?” drawled Serena.
“Now,” came the grimace as Claire glanced down at her own lush curves.
Keith watched the interaction. Hiding his impatience with his usual impassive expression, he leaned against the doorframe. He caught a couple glances from those who didn’t fear reprisal. So he hadn’t known it was his assistant’s birthday, much less her age. That didn’t make him a bad person or boss. It just meant that he had other priorities. Did these people know that he made sure she had the highest bonus of the entire administrative staff? It was only fitting that, as his right-hand, she receive more. Personal information had nothing to do with the workplace.