by Kaily Hart
“Th-this could be construed as sexual harassment, you know,” she managed shakily.
“You feel it too, don’t you?”
“It?”
He leaned forward, his face only inches from hers. This close she could see that his eyes were actually rimmed by a darker gray around the edges. They were intense and…really quite beautiful. She saw his nostrils flare briefly. “I can smell how aroused you are,” he whispered.
“You cannot!”
He laughed. It was quick, but she got a flash of very white, even teeth. “Okay, I can’t. But I want to.” He ran his gaze down her length in a look she almost felt. “You have my imagination working overtime.”
That made two of them. Jillian had never felt this before, whatever it was. He turned her on like no guy ever had and she was usually the slow burn type, but her body seemed to have a mind of its own. Her bed had been empty since she’d come to work here, even some time before that. Cold, lonely, unsatisfying and empty. Could she really do it? Be calculating about it? No emotions to get in the way, no feelings to be hurt, nothing but pleasure, because if she was sure of anything, she was sure he’d give her pleasure. She’d been guilty of listening to the rumor mill where he was concerned and if there was any truth to them, he’d more than live up to the explicit promises in his gaze. Not to mention the bulge in his pants. A night of sex, pure and simple. Did she dare?
She had to know first though. Perhaps it was why she’d never heard any hint of him messing around with anyone at the office.
“Will it… Will this help my career in any way?”
Chapter Two
Sam thought about lying. He did. It wouldn’t be the first time a chick had expected something in return, in appreciation, for granting him the use of her body. He no longer gave gifts or favors for sex, ever, but he’d never had such a violent and intense reaction to a woman before either.
Lust he knew. Lust he recognized and acted on when it suited him and when it worked itself out of his system? He moved on. This was something else entirely or maybe it was just stronger than anything he’d felt before. Yeah, that must be it. That he was acting completely out of character registered on some vague level, but… Fuck, up close the resemblance was uncanny. And her name was Jillian. It couldn’t be a coincidence, could it? It wasn’t just that there were similarities, she looked exactly the same. Jillian was clearly older, but it was the same dark hair, the same clear, honey skin and the eyes… They weren’t exactly inviting him to do whatever he wanted to her, but they were the same shade of intense blue. Her body—just thinking about the body she might be hiding under the conservative pantsuit and what she might look like between her legs—kept him painfully hard. Somewhat embarrassing considering his erection was practically staring her in the face.
He hadn’t been this out of control of his body since…well, since last night when he’d jacked off in front of the damn painting again. A painting that hung prominently at the foot of his bed, a painting he’d literally been obsessed with since he’d first seen it, a painting that looked remarkably like his senior financial analyst, Jillian Moore.
He wanted her with a desperation that had him holding himself back with an effort from jumping her, but he couldn’t lie. He couldn’t, not even to ensure he got in her pants.
“No,” he ground out, knowing he may have just blown his chances if she thought that’s the way he operated. Or if it was the way she did. Thinking she might be open to using sex to progress herself didn’t sit well with him. At all.
“Fucking me will not improve your chances of promotion or your pay. Neither will it be detrimental to your career. This has nothing to do with work. This is just you and me, getting naked and getting off together. You’ve worked here for eighteen months, Jillian. I may be tough, demanding and moody as hell, but you have to know I’m fair.”
He took a deep breath. It would kill him, but she’d have to take it or leave it. He was already thinking on his next tactic when he saw her nod. Jesus, it was so slight he might have missed it, could have misinterpreted it, maybe it didn’t mean what he thought.
“Okay, then.” She sighed. “If you’d said yes, I would have had to tell you to go screw yourself.”
Sam tried to hide the tremendous relief he felt and the sense of triumph, not to mention the images that slammed into him when he thought about who and what he’d rather “screw”. It wouldn’t do to gloat. It wasn’t exactly an agreement, but he’d run with it anyway.
“We’ll leave here after work. Six. Okay?”
Sam couldn’t remember the last time he’d left the office at six, maybe never, but waiting until the end of the day was going to be torture as it was. He’d be damned if he’d wait any longer than he needed to. He knew he was pushing it, but if he knew anything at all, it was women, and he had her—right where he wanted her.
“Ah… I have my car here and I need to do a few things first. Could I meet you somewhere?”
He didn’t like it, but he’d pushed enough. He sighed. He was damn tired of resorting to fucking women because of their resemblance to his first foray into fine art. And if that wasn’t bad enough? Last night, with an experienced, beautiful woman in his bed, moaning and bucking under him, he’d realized with shock that he needed the stimulation of it to actually get off. And that was just fucking unacceptable. He just wanted to get this thing, whatever it was, out of his system and get on with his life.
He tempered the surge of anticipation and refused to let himself consider the possibility she wouldn’t show. He’d offered, but dinner was the last thing he wanted. He wanted her with a force he couldn’t quantify and the thought of having to go through a “getting to know you” meal just so he could get her naked, had him almost growling with frustration. Man, who was he kidding? He just wanted to fuck her brains out all night long, pure and simple. He suddenly wanted her in his space, on his ground. He hoped like hell he knew what he was doing. He’d always sworn he’d never sleep with anyone who worked for him. With everything else he’d had to worry about, building the company with his blood and sweat from nothing, he’d never wanted the potential liability. Yet, here he was, ready to throw all that out the window. For her.
Jillian’s heart was beating so fast she thought it might leap from her chest. Had she just agreed to have wild, no-strings sex? A one-night stand with her boss? Tonight? To say she’d let personal grooming slide some recently was probably an understatement. Waxing the bikini area, shaving your legs every single day, getting a pedicure, didn’t seem so critical when you and your vibrator were the only ones who got to see it.
Sam unfolded his big body, stepped around to his desk and roughly scribbled something on a sheet of paper he all but shoved at her.
“My place. Six thirty.”
Arrogant prick. She almost told him to go to hell right then, but why should it matter? She knew what this was and her eyes were wide open. And God, the heat and dampness between her legs was becoming uncomfortable.
Jillian glanced down at the dark, bold scrawl. His address. It was a nice neighborhood, more than nice, but it didn’t give her much time. She shook her head, already figuring out everything she needed to do before she got there. “Eight,” she countered, seriously wondering whether she’d chicken out or not.
He hesitated a heartbeat before giving her a curt nod. He wasn’t happy.
Well, tough.
She’d never done anything like this before. Never. Was there an etiquette involved in these things? She wasn’t sure what would happen or how this would play out exactly, but the nervous anticipation in the meantime just might kill her. “Wh-what should I wear?”
His gaze centered on her. Hot, direct, carnal. “Doesn’t matter. You won’t have it on very long.”
Okay, that probably gave her a pretty good idea.
* * * * *
Jillian took a deep, steadying breath. It didn’t help much. Actually, it didn’t help at all. Sam’s gaze was riveted on her with the same look she�
��d last seen from him and a few hours hadn’t lessened its impact.
“Take off your panties.”
Jillian swallowed. It was a demand, there was no question about it, but his voice was rough and husky.
What the hell had she gotten herself into?
She’d chosen a short, denim dress that hugged her curves, buttoned down the front and flared in a slight a-line she thought was flattering. She’d left the top two buttons open to give a hint of cleavage and the bottom two undone which provided glimpses of her now smooth thighs when she moved. That left only three buttons that held the entire dress on her. She’d thought it looked sexy, young and accessible, but perhaps she should have gone for something more alluring, more sophisticated? What she wouldn’t give to see his reaction if she could have said she wasn’t wearing any panties.
“Hello to you, too,” she managed.
“Sorry,” Sam added when she didn’t move from her stance by his front door. “I’m not up for any preliminaries. I want you so badly I’m seriously about to split the seams on these pants.”
He was still dressed as he’d been at the office, but he’d removed his jacket and tie and rolled up his sleeves. He didn’t sound the least apologetic, but at his comment, Jillian couldn’t help but center her gaze between his legs. She could see the ridge that could only come from a massive erection.
Oh God.
Hoping like hell he didn’t notice the tremors in her hands, Jillian reached up under her dress and tugged off her panties. She cringed. She knew the move probably looked awkward, not to mention downright demure. Before she could decide what she was going to do with them, Sam stepped forward and grabbed them from her. She watched, mesmerized as he raised the black satin thong up to his nose and inhaled deeply. His jaw clenched, his lids flickered and Jillian shook at the look in his eyes.
“Fuck. You smell incredible.”
He flung them aside and grasped her hand. Without taking his eyes from hers, he walked backward, pulling her with him farther into the house until he sat down in a large arm chair.
Her heart thundered so strongly it was almost deafening. She tried to calm herself by taking a few slow breaths, but her stomach felt like it did on the plunges of a roller coaster, only it never ended, and it was impossible to catch her breath.
Bracketing her hips with his hands, he stretched his long legs out in front of him between hers and eased her forward slowly.
“As soon as I saw you in this dress, I knew what I was going to do.”
Jillian trembled as he began to undo the buttons, one slow tug at a time. She hadn’t worn a bra, she hadn’t needed to, and soon she stood bared before him, the dress hanging open from her shoulders.
“Christ, look at you.”
Jillian sighed at the look in his eyes and the reverence in his voice. She’d never seen that look from another guy before, she was sure of it. It was completely focused on her, watching her every move and more than liking what he saw. His gaze wandered over her full aching breasts, across her abdomen and centered between her legs. It gave her an incredible sense of empowerment. He wanted her. Really wanted her, and he made no attempt to hide it. All of her unease vanished in an instant.
He skimmed the folds between her legs with the back of his hand and she felt heat and moisture bloom for him. “You’re completely bare, silky, so soft and smooth. Beautiful,” he breathed.
She kept her eyes open and trained on his with difficulty. She hadn’t had the time to get a wax. She’d shaved though, as close as she could. She’d tried to leave a tantalizing line of hair, but had screwed it up and ended up taking it all off. Now she was fiercely glad.
“I need to taste. Come here.”
Oh God, oh God.
Jillian jumped at the sensation of his hot breath against the skin of her abdomen as his hands urged her forward and he leaned in. He licked her in a slow, long swipe along the crease of her leg where it met her body, as if she was some tasty treat he was savoring.
She quivered when he groaned. She gasped when his tongue traced up the middle of her torso, dipping into her bellybutton and up between her breasts, his hands gently pushing the dress down her arms. The fact that it didn’t fall at her feet made her realize she had the fingers of both hands buried in his thick, dark hair, holding him to her, urging him on.
He licked first one nipple, teasing, taunting licks, then the other, alternating between them until she couldn’t help the involuntary movements of her lower body against his thighs where she straddled him. He wasn’t sucking hard, pulling or biting at them. He didn’t use his hands, only his mouth, and he was lapping at her, mindless flicks and licks and the action sent a shaft of pure sensation straight to her clit. It felt as if the smallest touch from him there and she’d be done.
“I can feel how hot and wet you are through my pants,” he rasped.
“Oh God, Sam…” So could she. She wasn’t sure she’d ever been this wet before. She could feel the slight trickle from her body that came as if in sync with each lick of his insistent tongue on her nipples.
“Put your knees up on the arms of the chair.”
He wanted her to do…what?
He urged her up with firm hands on her hips until she knelt on each of the sturdy arms. She clutched the back of the chair to steady herself, gasping when he splayed a large, broad palm across her abdomen.
Was he trembling? She thought she felt it in the hands holding her, but it seemed unlikely for a guy like him. He had a different woman in his bed each week, didn’t he?
She jumped when he rubbed a thumb back and forth across her soaked clit and tried to just concentrate on breathing, and not falling from her precarious perch. She throbbed, ached, burned and then she couldn’t think of anything as he slowly inserted a thick finger inside her.
“Pretty,” he groaned. “So fucking pretty.”
“Sam,” she moaned and flexed involuntarily around him. Just his finger felt large inside her and oh so good. He was watching her, watching his hand, his finger, as he moved it slowly in and out of her, retreating all the way and then sinking back up as far as he could go. She was vaguely aware of him sliding down in the chair and then his mouth was against her too.
Her whole body jerked at the contact. The whimpers she heard must have come from her, but all her focus, her attention, was centered between her legs and the sensations he aroused in her. In that instant she knew she’d let this man do whatever he wanted to do with her body and the realization scared the hell out of her.
Fighting for breath, struggling for some semblance of sanity, Jillian looked down. He was licking and sucking on her but his eyes, dark and raw, watched her, causing a heat she’d never experienced before to burn through her. She couldn’t tear her gaze away. Helpless in her need, she couldn’t have prevented the involuntary movements of her hips, even if she wanted to.
“That’s it. Fuck my mouth, baby,” he growled.
Shocked, Jillian realized she was grinding herself against him, pushing herself hard against his mouth, his tongue. Soon he wasn’t moving his head at all. It was all her as she moved herself back and forth against him, back and forth, controlling the pressure where she wanted it, needed it, her movements frenzied until she… Oh God…
He grasped her hips and lifted her up, freeing his mouth. Cool air washed against flesh that was hot, wet and aching. Jillian cried out, she couldn’t help it. She’d been so close. She had to bite her lip to stop herself from begging him to continue, offering him anything if he’d just do it again.
“Not yet,” he ground out, his hot breath sawing in and out against her thighs. “I want to be inside you, my body inside yours the first time you come for me.”
Jillian gasped when he cupped her ass in his big hands and stood. It was a single, fluid action and showcased a strength he kept well hidden beneath the conservative suits. She tightened her arms around his neck, her legs somehow ending up wrapped around his lean waist. His body was hot and hard and pressed as she was
against him, she could feel the thunder of his heartbeat mirroring her own. As he moved purposefully through the house she tried to concentrate on easing her breathing, but all she could think about was that soon he’d be taking care of the empty, stinging ache between her legs with something a lot bigger than his finger.
She’d expected to be dropped roughly onto the big bed. Instead Sam eased her down almost gently. She shivered a little at the coolness of the sheets against her hot skin. He’d carried her. She wasn’t exactly small, but he’d actually picked her up and carried her. She glanced quickly around the big room. She didn’t know what she was expecting, but it looked just like any other bedroom. No circular bed or mirrored ceiling anywhere in sight.
“This is a guest room. I don’t… I’ve never had a woman in here.”
Was she that transparent? And why would he care enough to mention it?
Sam jerked at the buttons of his shirt, drawing her attention to the tiny square packet already clasped in his hand. Thankfully he’d thought of protection because until now? She hadn’t. Throat dry, eyes wide, her body still throbbing between her legs from his touch, Jillian watched as he jerked at and removed every piece of his clothing. By the time he kicked his dark briefs to the side and went about sheathing himself, it was all she could do not to squirm on the bed.
“Hurry,” she whispered raggedly before she could stop herself. Could you instantaneously combust from being turned-on?
He looked like a male model—all rippling golden skin over ripped, hard muscles—except there was a harshness, a roughness about him that proclaimed him all man. A man obviously very much in his prime. He definitely didn’t spend all of his time behind a desk.
She knew his shape, but not even her overactive imagination could have prepared her for the impact of him naked. His chest was covered by a sprinkling of dark hair that narrowed in a line down his torso and into the thick thatch at his groin. Holy hell, he was big. Long and thick and hard. It figured. Rich, successful, hot and hung. He had it all going on. No wonder he had no shortage of women willing to warm his bed or wherever else took his fancy.