by Lynda Aicher
“This was about you. Nothing more. Just you,” she told him.
Belief refused to take hold. “I don’t—” He shook his head. For him?
A weariness wove its way into her expression. “I thought you’d be hungry. I thought you’d be tired, and I thought, maybe, you’d enjoy an act of kindness.” She gave him a slight shrug. “That was it.”
That was it. She wanted nothing in return from him.
“I’m going to go,” she said, breaking into his scrambling thoughts.
She was at the door before he finally got his voice to work. “Thank you.”
She looked back, winced ever so slightly. “Anytime.” She searched him a moment longer before she left.
The sudden piercing ache in his chest nailed that cold space to remind him of what he had. Because it wasn’t cold anymore. Not since Brie.
Not with Brie.
He caught himself when he dropped forward, his hands braced on his desk as he tried to find his breath. He’d never had this before, and he had no fucking clue how to accept it or what to do with it.
His ex had wanted her own things from him and their marriage. Her actions always came with an expected return. Every give contained a take he’d both understood and consented to. That’s how life worked. That’s how he’d obtained everything he had.
Until Brie.
“Brie,” he called, his voice wavering on a husky rasp. He raised his head, his pulse throbbing with what he scrambled to understand.
“Brie,” he called again, louder, firmer. He strode around his desk and was at his door before clarity struck.
“Brie,” he shouted. His voice echoed through the empty office space, bouncing off the walls to highlight the acceptance hammering through him.
He needed her with him.
A shiver ran over his heart before the realization exploded in his chest. It fired the urgency driving him down the hall in long strides. He had to catch her. Stop her.
Make sure she understood what he was only beginning to comprehend.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“Brie.”
The call shot down through the office to stall Brie’s hand on the outer door. She swung around. The light from the elevator foyer shone through the glass doors to provide a dim cast over the welcome desk.
“Brie.”
Her frown deepened, concern flaring at the added emphasis in Ryan’s tone. It rang of a desperate intent that didn’t match the contained man she knew. Especially after his reaction just now.
She stiffened. Their communication had been off when she’d left, and she had no idea what to expect now. Was this what she got for being daring and assertive? What had she been thinking giving him a blow job in his office? The act had broken every professional rule, every rigid code of conduct. This had been a flagrant act of deviance that could’ve truly ruined her reputation if they’d been caught.
She couldn’t hide behind the Boardroom either. This had been her own choice.
But she’d loved every damn second of it. The brazen freedom. The wanton control. The power that’d flooded her with each of his groans and reflexive hitches. Even the possibility of being caught or seen. The entire brash act had been exhilarating and shameless—until he’d withdrawn at the end.
But never, not even for one moment, had he made her feel cheap or less, like Donaldson had.
The entire incident had sent off conflicting bombs of excitement, annoyance and hurt.
She was reluctant to admit to the last one. Hurt led to disappointment which led to pain, and she wasn’t ready to travel that path. Not yet. Not with Ryan. Her heart was too invested in them to think about it ending.
He strode around the corner, steps brisk, a determined look on his face. His tie spread in two strips of royal blue against his white shirt and winged under his arms. “Brie,” he breathed, the note of relief confusing her more.
“What?” Had something happened?
“Damn.” He swept her into a hug before she could prepare for it. “Brie.” His arms wrapped around her to clamp her to his chest. A deep intake and release of breath cut a harsh path near her ear as he held her.
Confusion raced, but with it was relief. She held on, taking everything he gave. Explanations weren’t needed. Not now. He was sorry. That much she understood.
“Brie.” He set her down, his hands framing her face before he claimed her mouth. She opened without thought, her tongue finding his in the heated kiss. She stumbled blindly until her back hit the wall.
“Brie,” he mumbled again, his lips trailing down her jaw. “Thank you.” He nuzzled her ear. “Fuck. Thank you.” His tongue traced a wet path over the shell before dipping in to tease the sensitive center.
A shiver raced between her shoulder blades on a path to her heart. She scrambled to hang on, uncaring of where her coat and purse fell. Her head buzzed with the overload of sensation and information he was throwing at her. Not in his words, but in the desperate crush of need pulsing into her.
“For what?” she choked out around the lump in her throat. She dug her fingers into his hair, passion rising up to blind her with hunger.
He shoved her sweater up, found her breast and rubbed his thumb over her nipple to send a wave of longing through her chest. Her gasp echoed in her head, but she needed more. Wanted closer.
“For coming here,” he mumbled before taking her mouth in another hard kiss. “Bringing me dinner.” He thrust back in, his tongue sweeping over hers. He shoved his fingers beneath her bra to cup her flesh.
She moaned into his mouth, her back arching to seek his touch. She couldn’t think, not clearly. Was she missing something? What was he really saying?
“Thank you,” he repeated again. “For giving without expecting anything.” He plucked her nipple, teasing it until it ached for more, his face buried in her neck. “It’s new to me.”
Yes. That. More of that. His hips rocked, and she ground down on the hard line of his thigh. Need exploded in her core, her pussy begging for him. Just him. There was no one else. There’d never been anyone who could do this to her. Be this for her.
“I only want you,” she panted between kisses, clutching his nape. She was here for him. That much she knew. She’d be here for him.
Be his.
That was the point. That was all that mattered right now.
Her skirt was bunched around her hips. The soft silk of his pants teased her inner thighs. He kissed down her neck, over her throat. Her head fell back to knock the wall. Reality tried to invade, but she only took it in and rode it higher.
They were in the entry to their office. Anyone could walk in. Catch them.
But he didn’t care. Ryan didn’t care.
And neither could Brie.
“This...” He drew his tongue up her neck. A low purr rumbled in her throat to communicate her desire. “Isn’t...” He ripped away, jarring her from her daze. He grabbed her hand, heading down the hall. “Come here.”
She stumbled behind him, her purse and coat left behind. She didn’t question him. Not when her pulse raced and her body cried for him. Her heart jumped when understanding came.
He hauled her into the boardroom, slamming the door behind them. She was against the wall, his mouth back on hers before she had a chance to catch a breath. Yes. She fell into him, taking everything he gave and giving it back. The heated touches and wild caresses. The frantic drive that ripped moans from her throat and rumbled groans in her chest.
Her sweater came off, her bra next, and then his mouth was on her breasts. He cupped them, sucking her nipples and teasing each one with his teeth. She cried out at the intensity, yet wanted more. Still more.
This was wrong. Right. And so very naughty.
Her eyelids lifted, weighted lust holding them heavy. The room was lit only by the glow of the surrounding buildings. T
he darkness offered shadows and told secrets she longed to hear. The expanse of glossy cherrywood spread down the room in a display of authority. The decadence and power vibrated from the pristine surface, touched off by the black leather chairs surrounding it.
Her fingers fumbled on the buttons lining his shirt, but she worked at them, her nails catching skin.
“Christ. Brie.”
Ryan reared up, took her mouth. He caught her gasp and spun her around, ripping his mouth free. Fire and lust blazed in his eyes, but with it was something else. Amazement maybe? Fear? Need. They mirrored the very things racing through her. How could this be so good? So...perfect?
“I’m going to...” He hesitated. Her heart lodged in her throat. He wet his lips. His Adam’s apple bobbed in a hard jump. He ghosted his fingers down the edge of her hairline in a touch so tender it sank to her heart and whispered of things she was afraid to hope for. He cupped the side of her neck, waited a beat before he said, “Love you.”
Her world shattered into a million pieces of sizzling, joyous glee. Her eyes widened, lips parting, hope flying free.
“On this table,” he continued, ripping a chair out of the way. He backed her into the table, the edge hitting her thighs. “Long and slow.” He yanked the zipper down on her skirt, letting it fall to the floor in a forgotten heap. “Hard and soft.” He drew his hand down her abdomen, shoved his fingers under her panties to run them through her pussy.
Her legs dipped, desire flaming on a hard clench through her core. She rolled her head to the side, trembling with so much need.
He wrenched her panties down and then lifted her onto the table. He ripped the material off her legs in the next instant, her shoes going last. Another long, slow shiver prickled past her chest and under her skin.
She stared at him, stripped naked both literally and figuratively. She was incapable of holding anything back from him. How could she? When every touch reached her heart and brushed her soul?
He stripped his shirt off, tossing it aside. “I’m going to love you right here and remember it every time I sit in one of these chairs.” He pulled his belt free. “I’ll see you taking me in.” He popped the button. “I’ll remember the tight clench of your pussy around my dick.” He tugged his zipper down. “I’ll hear your soft cries and desperate pleas.”
Her whimper slipped free. “Yes.” She trailed her palms up his chest as he shoved his pants and underwear down in one motion, his erection springing free. Her mouth watered at the picture he made. “God, yes.”
His kiss blew through her to confirm each word he’d said. The love flowed on every deep swipe of his tongue and each firm caress. This was the connection. This was the passion and understanding she’d sensed with him since that very first time.
He urged her back, his mouth never leaving hers until she lay on the table. The coolness chilled her heated flesh, prompting a flash of Boardroom memories. But this was different.
This was where they worked. No one was watching. No one would know—except them.
He stripped off the rest of his clothes, the light ghosting over him in a shimmer of shadows and highlights. Intent seared from his expression. His jaw cut a sharp line to define the edge of his face, and she lifted her hand to trace her fingers down it. Soft still. Smooth.
She feathered her fingers over his chest and then down to the thin line of hair that trailed below his navel. His stomach contracted, breath hitching. The short sprigs tickled her fingertips until she reached the thicker patch circling his shaft.
His groan carried the need trembling within her. She drew her fingers up the velvety skin of his dick until she reached the crown.
“Brie...” Longing and warning mixed in his tone to entice her further.
She locked her eyes on his as she ran her thumb over the slickness coating the top. A small tremble shook his chest.
His eyelids lowered, lips parting before he grabbed her knees, planting her feet on the table. A smirk curled on his lips when he trailed a finger through her heat. She sucked in a breath, pussy clenching. Want cried out in desperation. He copied her motion, circling his finger over her clit. Light, tempting and so damn slow.
Him. This was him.
This was the man she’d fallen in love with. This man right here, staring down at her with all the heat and passion he kept hidden from the world. But she loved all of him, every cranky, contained part.
He bent over, caging her between his arms. The tenderness radiating from his eyes drained her thoughts to just him. His lips brushed over hers as she wrapped her arms and legs around him, drawing him closer, but he held back, head shaking.
“I don’t have a condom,” he whispered. Regret hung on his words and echoed in his eyes.
The risks flew in and out of her mind in half a second. “It’s okay. I have an IUD.” She should be worried about other safety things, but the medical tests she’d submitted to the Boardroom had been thorough, and he was a member too. “It’s just you and me, right?”
He nodded. “Just you and me.” The meaning seemed to extend far beyond the current situation, solidifying intent in another level of understanding.
“Then we’re good,” she whispered, drawing him down. He let her this time, his tongue meeting hers in answering glides and deeper searches that were so damn right.
“We’re good.” His mumbled agreement came out between a gentle touch of lips and a quick nip.
His dick rode the hot crease of her pussy in tempting rocks until the urgency clawed at her. She dug her heels into his hips, tilting her pelvis up. “Please.”
She could beg, plead and ask for whatever she wanted with him. He never judged. Never condemned. Never made her feel bad for what she wanted and who she was.
“Love me.” Her words hung between them on a soft declaration.
He adjusted his dick, his focus pinning her down. “I will,” he promised. He slid into her on a long, slow descent that filled her completely. Her breath eased out. Her heart contracted, expanded. “I do.”
She stared up at him, lost. To him. To what they were and could be. “I do too.”
“Brie...”
He took her mouth, driving hard and deep. Passion poured from him to melt her thoughts and bones. Each thrust rocked her back and brought her higher. Her blood sizzled, ecstasy building. Heat and fullness, desire and hunger—that was it. That was them.
She tangled her fingers in his hair, dug her nails into his shoulders, trailed them down his arm. Her lips were bruised and sore, but she went back for another kiss, another taste. She’d never get enough of him.
She’d never dreamed that her one night in the Boardroom would bring her here. To him. The freedom sang on her moans and rejoiced with each cry.
“Ryan.” She could say his name now. He was just hers. Only hers.
Her heart fluttered around the pounding beat of her pulse. He shifted, dipping down to sink his teeth into her nipple. Pain shot deep before spreading wide. Her spine arched, head rolling back as she absorbed it, reveling in it. He pulled her nipple taut, letting go only to do the same to the other. Agony twisted with the pleasure, becoming one and the same. It surrounded her pussy, heightened her nerve endings and sensitized her to every touch, every breath, every whisper.
“Ryan,” she breathed.
He stared down at her, nothing hidden. This was what she’d missed seeing those first times. That fire and want. The hunger and emotion. Him. It was still him. She might not have seen it, but she’d felt it. Known it.
A shiver, that strange, wonderful shiver, skittered over her heart and down her spine on a note of truth. She’d always known.
Desire speared her core when he found her clit. The hard, consistent rub spiraled her closer. It tore through her need until she teetered on the edge.
“Come, Brie.” He grabbed her leg, hitching it up from where it was locked around h
is waist. “Let me watch you.” He plunged deep, lip curled, need and lust stamped on his face. “Fall for me.”
Fall for him.
Her orgasm exploded on a silent promise and open declaration. She did. She had. Pleasure drenched her. Her pussy clung to his dick, spasms rippling through her core with each wave, blinding her until there was nothing left.
A harsh grunt crashed through the room. His fingers dug into her thighs. The table ground a painful line down her spine. The air was heavy with lust and sex.
She watched him through hooded lids as he came, grinding hard. The fierceness gave way to wonder before it softened to quiet amazement. She understood each emotion so clearly. They trembled over her skin and matched the rhythm of her breaths.
He braced his hands on the table, shoulders heaving. She lifted her hand to his chest to rest her palm over his heart. The solid, pronounced beat paced her own. He pressed his hand over hers, trapping it there. No words were needed now. She heard everything he said despite the silence.
The truth rang so clearly. She could embrace it now.
She’d fallen for him the very first time he’d touched her.
Chapter Thirty
Ryan paused in the open doorway to his patio, a coffee in one hand, the morning paper in the other. Sun streaked across portions of the concrete, the fall weather bringing less fog and pleasant temps.
Brie sat in the shade on a chair beneath the building overhang. Her legs were tucked up, his big white bathrobe wrapped around her. Her bare knees poked out between the part of the robe to tease him with memories of those legs wrapped around him, drawing him in. A coffee mug was cradled in her hands, her gaze focused on the distance.
His top-floor Mission Bay unit offered nice skyline views that included a small strip of the Mission Bay waterway. The neighborhood was still in the development stages, but the area was a nice mix of urban and tranquil. The constant hum of the city was diminished to the occasional car or boat horn and the distant echo of cheering fans from the baseball stadium.