His acceptance had a lump rising in her throat. She needed to get the hell out of here and put some much-needed distance between her and Dean Maxwell. Immediately.
“Exactly. So if you’ll excuse me.” She reached for the car door handle and startled when Dean’s warm hand settled over hers.
“I think I like my original plan better.”
Before she had time to question him, he yanked her roughly into his arms and covered her mouth with his. All thoughts of why this was a bad idea fled as soon as his thick, wet tongue lashed against hers. Kissing him hard, hard enough to release the pain he’d caused her when he’d acted like such an ass earlier, she let his big, strong body back her against the cool metal frame of the car. He groaned when she bit into his bottom lip. Acting of their own accord, her hands reached up and plunged into his hair, pulling at him even though it was impossible to get any closer.
“You’re still angry,” he said against her lips.
“Little bit, yeah,” she mumbled into his.
“Want to take it out on me in the back seat?”
“Mmhmm.”
With that, he pulled the back car door open all without breaking contact with her mouth. The two of them continued their physical assault on one another while crawling into the cramped back seat of Gwen’s car. His hand dove under her skirt and she felt him deftly removing her panties. She was already wet and knew that, if she let him touch her, she’d come in a matter of seconds much like she had on his desk earlier.
Grabbing his wrist and wrenching it out from under her skirt, she pulled back and grinned at him. “Remember what I said about reciprocation? You’re not the only one with plans, Mr. Maxwell.”
His eyebrows rose so high that they nearly hit his hairline. “And what kind of plans did you have in mind?”
“Dirty ones.” She began unbuckling the belt on his dress pants.
“Those are my favorite kind.” He helped her with the belt and his zipper.
She stared down at his smooth erection as it sprang free from his boxer briefs, marveling at the thickness. She couldn’t imagine it fitting inside her, though she knew it had. Perfectly.
Stroking him from base to tip, she watched his dick grow noticeably harder in her hands.
“Take your shirt off,” she commanded.
He did as he’d been told. Though he had some orders of his own to give. “You’re turn.”
“My turn what?” she asked, tearing her eyes from his muscular chest and his intricate tattoo.
“Whatever I take off, you take off. Those are the rules.” His cocky demeanor had returned. Usually, it infuriated her, but right now, it was a major turn-on.
“You know, it just so happens that I’m not really all that great at following rules,” she informed him.
He made a noise of agreement. “So I’ve noticed. Okay, let me put it this way. You can take it off or I can tear it off. Good luck explaining that to Gwen when you get home.” He shrugged, but a dangerous heat burned into her from his stare.
Slowly, as slowly as she could manage, she began unbuttoning her dress shirt. Thank God she’d worn a clean, lacy bra today.
Dean nodded to it. “That too.”
“Hey! You’re cheating.”
“Do you see me wearing a bra?”
She kissed him on the mouth. Her bra was staying on. For now at least.
He’d been in control in his office, but now, it was her turn. Before he could launch into any further negotiations about her lingerie, she tore her mouth from his and folded herself onto her knees in the floorboard. A soft groan of surprise and pleasure slid from his mouth as she took his erection into hers.
This wasn’t something she was extremely experienced at, but she knew the mechanics. Trevor had always made her feel obligated to do it, like she owed it to him since they weren’t having sex until marriage. She’d dreaded it. But with Dean, she was eager to please. And feeling just insecure enough about her lack of experience to make her competitive as hell. She might not love him or even be capable of falling in love with a man again, but she certainly had warm, fuzzy feelings for his dick.
She sucked it in deep once and then swirled her tongue around the tip. Licking up and down the underside of his shaft, she waited for him to start squirming before she looked up.
“You want to shove in it in my mouth, don’t you?”
“So fucking bad.” His neck veins bulged as he restrained himself.
She placed a gentle kiss on his tip, tasting the bead of his pleasure that rose up to meet her lips. “Do it.”
Dean let loose a guttural sound from the back of his throat as he rammed his cock down hers. She sucked as hard as she could as he thrust in and out of her. Moisture pooled in her mouth, but there wasn’t much she could do about it. Her eyes watered as the intensity of pressure built in the back of her throat.
His hands gripped her neck as she pulled his orgasm out of him with everything she had. Then he released her suddenly. “Fate. Oh fuck. I’m about to—”
She paused her steady rhythm. “Come in me.”
His hands returned, this time landing softly on her shoulders. “A-are you sure?”
Her mouth made a loud, wet noise as she pulled him inside it once more. He thrust forward, groaning as he pressed himself to the back of her throat. Warm liquid filled her and she was grateful that he’d been in deep enough to keep it from sliding over her tongue. Gagging was not sexy.
After swallowing the remnants of his pleasure, she wiped her mouth and pulled herself up off the floor.
“Let’s go to the beach house now. Can you pack and be ready in twenty minutes?” Dean’s face held no traces of humor as he tucked himself back into his pants.
She grinned over at him. “It’s only Tuesday.” She found her shirt crumpled on the seat next to him and began the awkward process of putting it back on. Except it wasn’t all that awkward. Not really. At least not as much as it should have been. Wasn’t like she went around blowing her boss in the back seat of her roommate’s car on a regular basis.
“This is going to be the longest damn week of my life,” he complained.
She smiled. “Why’s that?”
“Because I’ll be sitting in meetings thinking about how good it’s going to feel to finally get you in my bed.”
She snorted softly. “And who says you’re getting me in your bed? I don’t recall agreeing to go to bed with you.”
“Seriously? Please tell me you’re joking.” His expression was pained.
She tried her best not to smile at his pouty demeanor. “In fact, I don’t recall you asking me to go anywhere with you, Mr. Maxwell.”
“Ms. Buchanan,” he began, taking her hand and pulling it into his lap. “I would be honored if you would accompany me to my beach house this weekend so that I can finally act out the fantasies that have been playing in my head since June.”
She gave up her attempt at remaining unaffected and grinned impishly up at him from underneath her lashes. “Hmm. You sure know how to entice a girl. I’ll think about it.”
“Think about it?” He looked at her as if she’d spoken a foreign language in which he wasn’t fluent.
“Yeah. You know, where I contemplate your offer and form thoughts about it. Make a pros and cons list. Possibly run a cost-benefit analysis.”
His brows were knitting so close together that it looked painful.
She smoothed a finger over his forehead. “Stop that. You’ll get wrinkles.”
Apparently, he wasn’t amused. “Fate, what the hell? I thought we were on the same page here.”
She leaned back and studied him for a moment. He was even sexy as hell when he was pouting. Damn him.
“Has no one ever told you they’d think about it? You expect me to believe women just lie down with their legs open any time you make an offer?”
At that, his overconfident smirk returned. “Well, actually—”
“Shit, don’t answer that.”
She was one
to talk. She’d practically jumped him on sight.
He leaned forward, closing the distance between them and pulling her onto his lap. “Please? Pretty please? Say you’ll spend the weekend with me?”
A steady throb began pulsating between her thighs.
Say yes. Say hell yes.
Dean watched as her eyes shone in the dim parking garage lights. He’d begged and pleaded and she still hadn’t given him a straight answer about the weekend. Never in his life had he felt so stressed out after a blowjob. And what a blowjob it had been. It was like she’d read his every desire and begged him to act it out on her mouth.
A quick kiss on the lips and she’d bailed out, holding the door open for him. She’d kicked him out of the car with nothing more than a promise to think about his offer. He’d watched her until the taillights were no longer in sight.
Yeah, she’d think about it all right. He was going to make damn sure it was all she thought about.
Wednesday morning, he could hardly sit still at his desk. The damned UPS guy should have been there by now. He’d paid the $24.95 for overnight shipping. Now where the hell were they? He worked through lunch, glad to see each time he peeked into the bullpen that she was as well.
Logging into his computer, he tracked the package he was expecting for the twentieth time. The status still read out for delivery.
He tried to concentrate on the spreadsheets he was supposed to be organizing into a coherent report for his father. But the numbers blurred. Into to her face. Her eyes closed, perfect teeth biting down slow onto that full bottom lip as she came around him on the beach. Her dark hair falling around her naked shoulders, her perfect skin. He was a drowning man. Drowning in Fate.
The knock startled him out of his fantasies. It was harsh. Denise came in through his intercom.
“Sir, Fate Buchanan is demanding to see you. Now.”
It was as if his prayers had been answered. Perhaps there was a higher power that actually gave a fuck about him.
When he opened his door, she was there. Bright-eyed and even more beautiful than in his fantasies. And she was mad as hell.
“Dean, what the—”
He closed the door and pressed her against it. “Do you like them?” He knew his delivery had arrived. Sending them to her at work had been risky, but he needed her to know how badly he wanted her to spend the weekend with him at his beach house.
Her chest heaved with each breath, and he was close enough to touch her, but he resisted. Barely. He braced his arms on either side of her head.
“Fate? You with me?”
She closed her eyes and took another deep breath. When she opened hers and looked into his, he lost his breath. Her eyes were this deep shade of green gray. Like ocean water. No wonder he always had trouble breathing around her.
The colors swirled, and deep within them was a hint of vulnerability that drove him to his breaking point. He wasn’t the kind of man to make promises he couldn’t keep. And this woman deserved a hell of a lot more than he could give. But he could give her a weekend of being worshipped with everything he had. He could give her the release they both craved so badly. Again and again until they couldn’t move. They both needed to get this out of their system so they could focus on their respective careers. Surely she realized this. She was as intelligent as she was gorgeous.
“Why did you send me these?” she whispered. She held up a fisted hand. Inside were the black, lace crotchless panties he’d had delivered to her.
God, he was dying to see them on her. And off her.
“I want you to wear them for me. This weekend. Please.”
He could see the trepidation in her gaze. He wanted nothing more than to kiss it away. But that wasn’t fair. Kisses were promises he couldn’t keep. Kisses said, “I love you.” Crotchless panties said, “I’d love to fuck you.”
He was trying to keep this already messy situation as clean as possible. He watched as half a dozen emotions crossed her face. Confusion. Hurt. Excitement. Anticipation. Fear. And something he couldn’t identify by name but understood because he felt it himself. Every time he looked at her. Need, maybe.
After what seemed like an eternity of silence, she placed a hand on his chest and pressed gently. Taking the hint, he stepped out of her space.
“Maybe.” Her forehead creased as she appraised him.
“Is that a step up from you’ll think about it?”
At that, she smiled. His chest constricted at the sight. Unexpected warmth flooded him.
“Perhaps.” She shook her head and glanced up at him from under her thick, dark lashes. “But if you send me any more shit like this at work, I’ll make you wear them.”
He shrugged. “You say that like it’s a viable threat. Who’s to say I wouldn’t like that? Maybe that’s why I bought them.”
She arched a brow.
He gave up the façade and smirked at her. “You’re picturing it, aren’t you?”
Busted. She grinned so wide that he couldn’t breathe. Somewhere in the back of his mind, the ocean pitched and rolled in a soothing rhythm he loved.
He was going to make love to her in the ocean. He knew it as sure as he knew his own name. Now, he just had to convince her.
Leaning forward into her space, he gave in to the urge to touch her. His hands encircled her waist and pulled her close enough that their faces nearly grazed against one another’s.
“Come this weekend,” he rasped. “I promise you won’t regret it. And I have a strict rule about not making promises I can’t keep.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to. It’s that I don’t think it’s—”
“Don’t think. Remember that night, Fate? Don’t think. Just do what you want to. Give in.”
“Dean.” His name fell from her lips with a sweet softness that left him aching.
“I wasn’t done, Fate. We weren’t done. We both know there’s more. We owe to ourselves to finish what we started. Can you really walk out this door right now?”
Her eyes burned into his, but she didn’t answer.
“Tell me you can walk away and I swear I’ll leave you alone.” He swallowed, hoping like hell she didn’t do it. Knowing he wasn’t capable of leaving her alone. Not at this point. Not before he was finished.
“If the answer is yes, I’ll meet you here. After work. After everyone else leaves. If the answer is no—”
“Fate—”
“If the answer is no, I won’t. And you have to stop this. No more sending me dirty gifts or chasing me into empty parking garages. None of it. Promise me.”
He shook his head. “I just told you. I don’t make promises unless I know I can keep them. Come to the beach house this weekend. Let’s get this out of our system so we can get back to our lives. Then and only then can I promise to leave you be.”
She bit her lip as if she were trying to kill him. “Just the weekend,” she whispered. “Promise that’s all you want?”
He nodded. “Promise.” Thankfully, this was one he could keep. The steady pressure of excitement was building inside him. “So you’ll come then?”
She took a deep breath. He stood completely still and watched her mouth. Waiting for it to form the word yes.
“Maybe,” was all she said before she turned and exited his office.
“I think I’m going out of town this weekend.”
Gwen peered at her over the open refrigerator door. “You think you are?”
Fate pulled her legs up onto the couch and curled them underneath her. “Yeah, there’s this…thing I told Dean I’d go to with him.”
After pulling out a cup of yogurt and clanking silverware around in her search for a spoon, Gwen joined her in their living room. “Does this thing involve him screwing you senseless?”
Gwen never was one to sugarcoat a situation as Fate was learning.
“Perhaps,” she answered, the heat of her embarrassment spreading across her cheeks.
At least I hope it does.
“Ah.
” Gwen ate a spoonful of yogurt. “And you’re sure you want to do this—with him, I mean?”
Was she sure? “Yeah. I think I am.”
Nope. Not at all sure.
Her roommate shrugged. “Maybe this will be good for both of you. Give you both some closure so you can resume your regularly scheduled lives. And give the rest of us a break from having to watch you eye-fuck each other to death during meetings.”
“We do not eye-fuck each other in meetings!”
Gwen snorted. “Um, yeah you do. And when you’re not looking at each other like you’re thinking about climbing on the conference table together, the tension is still there. I’m going to start bringing an extra pair of panties to work soon. So, really, you’re doing everyone a favor.”
Fate had no idea if any of what her roommate had said was true. But she’d caught his eye a few times during budget meetings the past few days. And yeah, there’d been something gleaming hot in them. It had caused her to squirm in her seat more than once. But surely it wasn’t that noticeable. Was it?
“Do you think other people have noticed?” she asked quietly.
Gwen paused to swallow her last bite of yogurt before setting the small plastic cup down on the coffee table. “If they have eyes, probably. But I know the deal between you two, so maybe it’s just more obvious to me.”
Whew, that was a relief. “You think so?”
Her friend grinned and pulled a face. “No. Not really. You’d have to be blind and deaf and incapable of feeling not to notice. Sorry, babe.”
Fate rolled her eyes, but she could feel the stress settling over her. When they were together, it seemed so…right. Inevitable, even. But when they were apart and she actually thought about it, about the logistics of it…she wondered if she’d lost her damned mind.
Her phone buzzed from inside her purse on the breakfast bar.
Lord. Just my luck, it will be him.
After walking over to retrieve her phone, she saw that it wasn’t Dean calling. It was a number she knew she should’ve blocked long ago.
Trevor. It was the third time this week.
She silenced his call, ignoring it and fighting back the tsunami of painful memories that flooded her mind. The reminder of the four years she’d wasted was enough to make her mind up about her weekend with Dean.
Falling for Fate (Second Chance Book 2) Page 16