Forbidden to Touch

by JC Harroway

  ‘Now works just fine for me.’ I wait, curiosity a persistent drum sounding in my head. ‘Tell me, Blair.’

  My hushed command does the trick in loosening her tongue.

  ‘Do you...find me attractive?’ she asks with a tilt of her chin.

  I conceal my astonished reaction. ‘Attractive?’ My blood roars. Sexy as fuck, more like. Fascinating, whip-smart and ballsy. What is there to doubt?

  She nods. ‘I could be wrong...about our...chemistry.’ Her eyes dip to the tabletop for a fraction but then they’re back, bolder than before.

  I lean forward, place my arms on the table, my hands clasped together to stop myself reaching out and touching the strand of hair that has fallen over her cheek.

  ‘You’re not wrong. I’ve always thought you’re a beautiful woman.’ The heat in my chest slides below the belt. This is so inconvenient, but now she’s verbalised what I hoped to hear, I’m done for.

  The breath she’s holding shudders out of her, the flutter of the pulse in her neck, the increased heat from her body, the subtle shift of her crossed legs all indicating she’s as turned on as me.

  ‘Ask your favour.’ My patience snaps. The sparks in her eyes deliver fresh blood to my groin. I’m either going to love what comes next out of those delicious lips, or my instincts are decidedly off...

  ‘Well... I used to have something of a teenage crush on you.’ She laughs then, despite the heightened colour in her cheeks. It’s a delightful sound—a little throaty, almost dirty and so unexpected I laugh too. I didn’t know about the crush. Yes, I recall for a while in my late twenties she blushed every time we crossed paths—which wasn’t that often—but I figured it was an awkward phase. A teenager thing.

  Then I quirk one eyebrow, waiting while this new piece of information floods my body with testosterone. ‘Tell me what you want from me.’ If it’s what I’m thinking the answer is hell, yes. The fact that she knows what she wants and is negotiating it into our terms is the biggest turn-on so far. She’s accruing quite a list of attributes.

  But surely it can’t be the same thing I want. The thing I’ve wanted since she looked up at me in the Faulkner Group waiting area with a flash of recognition and something else. Something bold and demanding, as ruthless as any business stipulation. Now I want to hear those other demands, hear confirmation from her sensual mouth.

  She picks at a speck on her dress, something so minute it’s invisible. ‘I’m correct in thinking you’re single, right?’

  I nod, watching her with renewed fanaticism. ‘I’ve done the marriage thing—now I only do casual.’ I incline my head, waiting while my heart hammers—I’ve never been propositioned like this before and to say I like it would be an understatement.

  I lean a fraction closer and toss her a lifeline. ‘We might be on the same page here.’

  She nods, as if she’s worked that out long before me. ‘I’d like to propose a second contract. Just a verbal one will do.’ Her eyes shine as she taps the paperwork on the table. ‘Separate to the business one so no lines are blurred.’

  ‘Why?’ My interest peaks with the strengthening urge to taste her delicious-looking mouth.

  ‘I beg your pardon?’

  ‘Why do we need a second contract?’ I know enough about her by now to know she won’t fluster and dither at my direct question, but I need to know we’re negotiating the same thing.

  Her response blows me away.

  ‘Because I have fantasies about you I’d like to play out.’ Her voice is breathy now, and I not only know how driven and ambitious she is, but also how she sounds when she’s turned on.

  Before I can speak she continues the aural torture.

  ‘If we’re working closely together, something is going to happen sooner or later, and I prefer to keep sex separate from our working relationship. I don’t want anything to interfere with the Faulkner renovations. Call it a no-strings arrangement if you like.’

  I shift in my seat, arousal for once in what feels like a lifetime surpassing my need to control every aspect of my life and my business. Then I recall why we’re here and what happened the last time I allowed my personal life—Sadie—to interfere with my family business. ‘I don’t often mix business with pleasure, and I’m usually the person in the driving seat when I do.’

  I don’t want her having any unrealistic expectations. Anything between us will be finite.

  She holds my stare, lips parted and breaths shallow. ‘That’s why we need the second contract. And you can be in the driving seat.’

  I swallow hard—she’s incredible. Bold. Confronting. Captivating.

  ‘Oh, I know I can.’ I don’t need her permission. ‘If you want this, we do it my way.’

  My mind helpfully provides a series of erotic images. The idea of making this woman’s fantasies come true turns me to granite, so I have to spread my thighs under the table. My mind trips over itself. How will this even work? She’s correct—it’s borderline unprofessional, not to mention the age gap. Fuck, who cares? If she doesn’t, I don’t. And we’re consenting adults. It’s just sex. I can keep emotions off the cards, just as I have since Sadie, so there’s no chance of me being sucked in again.

  She licks her lips, perhaps an unconscious gesture...one that has a predictable effect on my body. I grit my teeth and then relax my jaw so I can speak. The sooner we’re done negotiating, the sooner we can put our verbal contract into practice. ‘Tell me what you want this second contract to include.’

  She speaks without pause, telling me she’s played this conversation over in her head prior to this meeting. ‘One,’ she counts on her fingers. ‘No-strings sex. Two—it doesn’t interfere with my work on the Faulkner.’

  My pulse thunders in my head. I shrug, keeping my body relaxed. ‘No feelings, no strings, just sex—easy.’

  But she hasn’t finished.

  ‘Three—we work through my fantasies, but I’m open to any you might have.’

  Fuck me! She could actually bring me to my knees... I arch my brow, fighting hard to maintain a neutral facial expression when all I want to do is sweep the conference table clear and spread her out. ‘Anything else?’

  She shrugs. ‘I think that covers it.’ She sucks in a big breath, trying to conceal the move. Her eyes dart, telling me she hasn’t thought this through that far or she’s hoping I’ll simply take the lead. And I will.

  Oh, we’re going to have some fun.

  ‘Up to the task?’ she asks, eyes heavy with want.

  Hell, yes. Is there a better way to keep a close eye on what Blair Cameron does to my hotel and exploit this unexpectedly fierce chemistry?

  ‘I have no problem with the arrangement as laid out in this verbal contract.’ I sound as if I’m dictating a memo, not discussing how to satisfy Blair Cameron’s fantasies. ‘You tell me about these fantasies and leave the rest to me.’

  Her lips purse as if she’s about to argue, even as her chest flushes with arousal.

  I add another layer of incentive. ‘I promise you’ll benefit.’

  ‘I will?’ she asks, her tongue darting out to moisten her lip.

  I nod, dropping my voice. ‘Expect to come a lot.’ I look up from her mouth to catch the flare of her pupils. ‘Expect my very enthusiastic and frequent attention. Expect to have all your fantasies fulfilled.’

  She smiles as though we’re discussing paint colours or upholstery fabric, not how I’m going to give her so many orgasms she won’t be able to walk on the heels she seems to love.

  ‘Deal.’ She holds out her hand, the fine tremor in her fingers almost invisible. ‘Shall we shake on it?’

  I take her hand and try not to smile when I hear the tiny catch in her throat as our palms connect. Before she can disengage from the most rewarding and electrifying handshake I’ve had in many years, I add another suggestion. I can’t help myself. Blair Camer
on is just too much—too tempting, too sexy and too much woman.

  ‘I have a better idea.’ I grip her hand a fraction tighter, allowing my fingertips to dance on her delicate inner wrist, because, now I’ve touched her with something beyond the professional, I want more. I want all of her. ‘Tell me about one of these fantasies.’

  My hard-on tents the front of my trousers underneath the table.

  Her eyes widen as her hand slips from mine, and she sucks in a small, excited gasp that shoots straight to my balls. ‘Now? Here?’ She glances at the closed door, stands and smooths her palms down her thighs as if she’s contemplating fleeing. But not Blair, although she must have guessed I’d be burning with curiosity to hear about these fantasies.

  I nod, slowly, so she gets the message while my mind leafs through all the delicious possibilities. I swivel my chair, keeping my thighs spread so she can see the effect her particular negotiating skills have on me from her standing position. I give her a beat or two to take in the bulge I can’t conceal, then I stand too, moving close so she has to look up if she wants to maintain her bold, almost challenging eye contact.

  I’m close enough to kiss her, but I draw out the anticipation, even though I can’t seem to stop looking at her mouth.

  ‘I’d like to hear them all, but start with the first one you can remember.’ My blood simmers. This verbal foreplay is not something I would usually indulge in at the office, but she’s irresistible. She’s thrown me completely with her bold request, and I’m not one to be outdone.

  Her colour darkens, and I inch closer until her nipples brush my chest as she sucks in another shaky breath.

  I tuck the strand of hair I’ve been longing to touch over her shoulder, loving the shudder that seems to rattle her entire frame as she inhales. ‘Come on, Blair. Let’s hear it.’

  The minute lift of her chin, her go-to move of bravery, heralds her final act of surrender.

  ‘I... I used to touch myself and think about you.’ Her confession is accompanied by a breathy sigh, which takes my body from keen to barely restrained. My fingers twitch to get hold of her sensational body, to touch every inch, taste her all over and hear her moans of pleasure.

  ‘How old were you?’ I’m almost scared to ask.

  She shrugs. ‘Seventeen...eighteen.’

  Fuck. I couldn’t even think of that then, but I can sure as shit do more than think about it today.

  I nod, arch my brow, enjoy the gust of her warm breath on my lips. ‘Show me.’

  Her eyes go wide.

  My pulse pounds through my head, driving me. ‘Go on.’ Excitement crackles between us like static electricity. ‘See what happens.’

  She flushes, her gaze once more drifting to the door. ‘Now? I don’t think I can, not here.’

  Oh, no, this isn’t the woman who’s just negotiated a sexual dalliance between us as successfully as she’s manoeuvred her company into a lucrative deal. This contradictory coyness won’t do in light of what she’s just told me. I want everything. Now.

  I lean close, dip my head so my breath snakes over her exposed earlobe and her shudder wafts the scent of her hair over me.

  ‘Liar,’ I whisper, fighting the need to taste the skin of her neck.

  She sways closer and I ease back, a tease, keeping my distance, torturing us both. For now. But the struggle is real, the deep and relentless need catching me off guard.

  I continue in the same husky voice, ‘It’s your call, of course.’

  She’s panting now, her breath brushing my lips, and it takes every scrap of control I possess not to kiss her. But not yet. She’s set a challenge, one my libido is raring to meet.

  And I want to hear every detail of these fantasies. I want to know how her inventive and open mind works, especially the part that not only conjured up fantasies about me, but also had the mettle to proposition me in the Faulkner boardroom.

  ‘Tell me.’ I allow my hushed words to bathe the space between our mouths. ‘Would you be in the bath or in your bed? Would I walk in and catch you with your hand down the front of your underwear? Would you stop touching yourself, or continue knowing I couldn’t look away?’

  Excitement sparks in her eyes. The space between her body and mine floods with pheromones, the air temperature rising and generating enough electrical activity to start a thunderstorm.

  ‘Go on,’ I taunt. ‘Let me watch you now.’

  She reaches for my forearms with both hands, as if she needs me to balance. But the look she raises to mine is pure challenge. She may have hesitated out of a sense of professionalism, but I can tell there’s no way she’ll allow me to wrestle control of her fantasy from her, and I’m happy to concede for the reward of watching this fascinating and beautiful woman claim her pleasure.

  ‘Okay.’ Her voice is husky with need or nerves, but she drops one hand to her side and slips it under the hem of her dress.

  Triumph flares in my chest even as my knees weaken—she’s astounding. Brave and determined and capable of anything. And fuck me if the fact she knows what she wants and isn’t afraid to chase it isn’t the biggest turn-on so far.

  She drags in a shaky breath, her whole body trembling with its force. I look down to see her dress hitched up and her hand buried between her legs, but sheltered from my view by the bunched-up fabric.

  I swallow hard. She’s a dream. A siren. A goddess sent to test me.

  I call on every scrap of strength I possess not to touch her, and force my voice to continue in the same low tone. ‘What would you have done if I’d caught you touching yourself? What would you have said?’

  She looks up with the need which is mirrored in me burning in her beautiful eyes. ‘Kiss me.’

  It’s what I want to hear, the exact invitation I need.

  I cup her face, holding her stare and tilting her head to the desired angle, but taking my sweet time even though I want to taste the lush lips only millimetres from mine with a ferocity I’m struggling to control.

  ‘Just so you know, I’ve wanted to kiss you since I walked into the waiting area and saw you yesterday.’ I give her no time to absorb my words, her tiny gasp signal enough that she’s registered them. I slide my mouth over her parted lips and drag her body to mine so every soft inch of her is pressed up against the hardness she inspires.

  One swipe, two, three... Who’s counting?

  She parts her lips further, accepting the push of my tongue inside. My fingers tangle in that swath of blonde silk and she whimpers under me, her whole body slack and her eyes, which have remained open throughout, glazing over.

  I pull back, foolishly thinking I’m done with the kiss, only to tilt my head sideways and enjoy it from the opposite angle—an experience that’s as good as the first time, because now she’s practically writhing all over me and clutching at my hair with her free hand as she kisses me back.

  Just one more taste. Just one more minute, then I’ll put a stop to this and walk away.

  Energy pours through me, electrifying every cell in my body. The reality of Blair Cameron has blown my mind. This room has never hosted such agreeable negotiations. I feel a new shiny brass plaque is in order to commemorate the great contract agreement of the Faulkner Group and Cameron Interiors.

  But I want more now I’ve had one taste. I can’t help myself. Knowing she’s still touching herself under that dress, thinking of me, wanting me, recalling fantasies of me...

  We part, panting and gasping.

  ‘As good as you fantasised?’ My voice is gruff. I’m at the office. It’s before ten in the morning and all I can think about is laying her back on the oak conference table for a look under this dress.

  Her mouth is swollen and I touch her lips, wiping the moisture from them with the pads of my fingers. They’re smooth, red, a sexy haven I want to see slack with ecstasy, gasping my name and wrapped around my dick.


  She nods, her head shaky, but then, in a bold move I should have expected, she sucks the pad of my index finger into her mouth and swivels her hips so her belly crushes my erection between us. ‘Then I would have asked you to touch me.’

  The groan in my head abolishes any reservation and spurs me on.

  Her lips return to mine, her kiss sexy and bold, slaying me.

  In one move I hoist her up and deposit her on the table, stepping into the space she creates for me by spreading her thighs. She doesn’t care that she’s creased her dress by bunching it up her bare, toned legs. She doesn’t care that we could be disturbed at any minute. My own workplace principles are shot to hell by the heat coming from between her legs as I wedge myself closer. I can’t get close enough.

  I kiss her again, this time hissing at the ferocity with which she twists my hair. But revenge tastes as sweet as her mouth when I slide my hand up one thigh, my fingers joining hers tangling in the shoved-aside crotch of her damp underwear and her soft, slick centre.

  This is madness. What the hell is she doing to me? Any minute now I’ll come to my senses and stop.

  She bucks against my hand, her fingers and mine sliding together to rub all the right places, and I wedge my hips closer to stop her slipping from the edge of the table. Then she snatches her own hand away so she can brace her arms behind her on the table.

  ‘Yes,’ she hisses around our kiss. ‘Oh... Reid!’

  My fingers glide over her swollen clit. A triumphant growl resonates past my tight throat. I pull away from her mouth to watch her pleasure streak across her beautiful face as I work the bundle of nerves. ‘This is what you used to think about?’

  She nods as I glance down to where all that deliciousness is exposed for my eyes only. I enjoy the view of my fingers working her, loving her gasp when I push one finger inside her and continue to circle her clit with my thumb.

  ‘Yes...and I thought about you last night while I made myself come with my vibrator.’ Her hips undulate in time with the rhythm of my plunging finger.