It was tempting. Damned tempting. And the absolute last thing she could do. Closing her eyes would mean trusting him with far more than her body. Silently she might be able to acknowledge she trusted him, but never out loud. “Do I look stupid to you?”
“Beautiful, sensual, pissed off, yes. Stupid, never.”
The breath dragged between Jillian’s lips and she fought the urge to scream. What was wrong with him to keep saying things like that? Things that she might have believed about the old her, but not now. Not when she went so far out of her way to make sure she wasn’t attractive or warm. “I am not beautiful, and I am not sensual.”
“And I am not blind,” he retorted in the same angry tone. His voice gentled and he raised a hand to stroke along the rise of her cheek. “You don’t have to close your eyes, Jilly, this will work just as well with them open.”
“What wi—”
Her question died with a gasp as the hand on her face fell to the covers. He stripped them back and tugged her into his arms. She was on her stomach in an instant, the weight of his thighs trapping her hips in place and making movement all but impossible. She was about to shout at him when the hiss of a zipper being lowered stopped her short. Next came the unmistakable crinkle of a condom wrapper.
The breath stilled in her throat even as cream filled her pussy. “What are you doing?”
“I think you know. I think you’ve been waiting up for me for this very reason.”
“No, I haven’t!” But she had, and she knew he could hear the lie in her words every bit as much as she could.
The weight of Brendan’s body moved off of her for several seconds, then returned to cover her completely. She wore only a T-shirt. He slid his hand beneath the cotton and upward. He palmed the bare flesh of a breast and squeezed the nipple. “Tell me the truth, Jilly, or I’ll be forced to tease you until you’re hovering on the edge of orgasm and then leave. You’ve been waiting for me, haven’t you, hoping I’d come by and do some of those things I promised to do last night?”
His grip on her nipple tightened and the juices heightened in her sex. Her pulse beat rapidly. Her stimulated scent reached up to assail her nose. She forced her response through a dry throat—not lies; it was pointless to lie when the truth was so obvious—with words that held no emotion outside of lust. “Yes. I wanted you to come here. I want to feel your cock thrusting inside me. I want you to make me come.”
“Awful needy little thing, aren’t you? That’s okay, because I want that, too. I want to feel your mouth on mine, to feel your cunt contracting around me. It’s all I’ve been able to think about since last night, Jilly. Having you. Again and again.”
The mixture of annoyance and wonder in his words filled Jillian’s mind with questions, with panic, with the tiniest seed of something she hated to recognize was hope. Then Brendan came up on his knees, freeing her naked bottom to the cool lick of night air rushing in through the nearest window, and her mind emptied of everything but sensation. He pulled her up on her knees, as well. The warmth of his hand on her belly was startling in contrast to her suddenly chilly flesh. His cock prodded at her buttocks as he found her damp opening and sunk a finger inside.
She moaned with the pleasure that came with penetration. He murmured his satisfaction. “You’re wet, sweetheart, but I knew you would be. Were you wet today at work, knowing how close I was, how you could come into my office and ask me to take you and I’d never have been able to say no? I wouldn’t have. I’d have had you on my desk and been inside you in a second.”
The heated words he whispered, the feel of his warm breath sliding along the sensitized flesh of her neck, the intimacy of his shaft cradled against her ass, were all too much to deny. Jillian melted against the persuasive stroke of his finger. The pressure and wetness built. His finger began to retreat and she followed its course, trying to pull it back inside her pussy, desperately needing him to continue.
He pulled out of her completely and kissed her ear. “Relax. I’m not done yet.”
And he wasn’t. Not even close, she realized, as he tipped her hips and pushed his dick inside her. He breathed a growl into her ear, a sound she mimicked as sensation after erotic sensation spiraled through her. Then he stilled his movements to return his hand to her belly and grip her tight. His other hand went to her front, tangling in the curls of her pubic hair. He teased over the lips of her pussy, stroked her clit.
Jillian knew he preferred her eyes open and was thankful he couldn’t see her face, because keeping them open in this position, when he filled her so completely from behind, wasn’t an option. Neither was withholding her emotions. She felt so much as he drove deep into her sex, his balls slapping against the rear of her—intensity, desire, trust, possession. And then she felt nothing at all but ecstasy as he turned up the pace, fingering her clit with teasing pressure, thrusting his cock fast and hard into her slick core, and then letting go of her waist to cup a breast. His fingers plucked at her erect nipple. His hot, wet mouth suckled at her neck. She gasped for breath as her heart pounded recklessly beyond control.
From somewhere Tawny’s voice came to her, telling her to be careful, telling her not to let her heart become involved. From that same place came Jillian’s own voice, telling her to keep the control, to maintain the power. The words were fleeting and then forgotten with the first tremors of orgasm. Her thighs shook, her arms felt ready to collapse. She couldn’t stay in this position a moment longer.
“Oh, God, I’m going to fall. I’m going to—”
“Shh….” Brendan whispered, letting free her nipple to again grasp her waist and help support her. “You can trust me. I won’t let you get hurt. I won’t let you fall. I can’t keep this up any longer, though. You’re too tight, too damned sweet. I’ve wanted to come since the second I entered you. Hell, from the second I got in my car and started over here. We’re both going to go now. Come for me, Jilly. Come…for…me….”
His words tapered off as his thrusts grew harder, deeper. His fingers moved faster, stroking that spot where their bodies joined. She couldn’t hold back a moment longer. Her pussy tightened and the shudders of climax spilled through her, taking her beyond thought but that of Brendan and the feel of him finding his release.
When the tremors subsided, he mouthed something inaudible near her ear and slumped against her. Jillian had barely been able to breathe before; now she couldn’t in the least. She didn’t want him to move, knew the moment he did he would be out her window. But he also couldn’t stay.
He was saying too much. Saying he’d wanted her since the moment he’d left last night, saying she was all he’d been able to think of, saying she could trust him. He was acting as if he felt as close to her as she did to him right now. He couldn’t feel that way—he wasn’t that kind of man—and even if he somehow could, she couldn’t afford to acknowledge it.
“You’re crushing me,” she squeaked out.
He rolled off of her, but didn’t move any farther. She glanced over at him and he sent her a satiated smile. The look speared through her, warmed her in places she’d forgotten she possessed. Her heart gave a bump. The breath snagged in her throat while anxiety lurched in her belly. She pushed the uncomfortable feelings aside. The bump had been nothing more than exertion, or possibly a tremor of lust brought about by his scrumptious smile. Nothing more. Nothing to panic over.
She forced her own smile. “I take it it was good for you?”
He chuckled. “You were good, sweetheart. Beyond good.”
Good enough that he wanted her again? Is that why he was still lying on her bed, smiling at her that way?
“Who are you, Jilly? Who are you really?”
“What?” The anxiety returned to Jillian’s belly in a fit of roiling waves. A chill shook through her. She grabbed for the covers, suddenly feeling overly exposed.
Why in the hell would he ask who she was? Not only was he not a man who got to know the women he slept with, but why did he think she was anything but
the cool, calculated woman she presented herself as?
She sat up and glared, desperate to set this right, to prove she was who she claimed to be, to get his smile out of her head, her heart. “You know who I am,” she snapped, “what I am. Don’t look for anything more, Brendan. There’s nothing to find.”
His lazy smile slipped away. He sat and moved to the side of the bed, standing in one fluid motion. His gaze pinned her for an instant, the complete look of a moment ago replaced with something dark, something that told her his words would sting even before he turned his back on her and uttered, “You’re such a goddamned liar. There is more. A hell of a lot more. I can feel it when I touch you. I can see it in your eyes, in the way you decorate your home, the way you love your dog. You’re not the hard-ass you pretend. You’re someone different, someone so much better. What I don’t know is why the fuck I cared enough to ask who that someone is.”
The covers were no protection from the bittersweet accuracy of his words. She didn’t know why he’d asked either. What did he expect to gain even if she told him the truth? The only possible answer was he thought to somehow use what she’d tell him against her to win the senior ad exec position. And if that was the case, then it also had to be the reason he’d come back here tonight. It had to be why he’d acted as though he’d missed her and had been thinking of her all day.
His back still turned, Brendan disposed of the condom in a Kleenex and dropped it in the wastebasket by the bed. His stance was so inflexible, it hurt her to look at him. But his stance didn’t match his motivation. If this was just about the job, it shouldn’t show in his body.
And if it wasn’t about the job…She’d already determined it the only possibility, but what if it wasn’t? What if he really had missed her? She shouldn’t ask, shouldn’t cross that barrier, and yet she ached to know. “Brendan—”
“Don’t waste your breath with orders, Jillian. I’m leaving. I was just taking a minute to get my bearings.” Without another look in her direction, he went to the far corner of the room, climbed out the window and vanished into the darkness of night.
Jillian lay back and pulled the covers tightly to her neck. She hadn’t missed the way he’d used her full name, and knew that the chill that stole through her had nothing to do with the crisp night air. It was directly related to that bump she’d felt in her heart and the ache that had come into her chest with the hurt in his parting words.
God, how she wanted to chase after him, to share every last one of her secrets with him.
She couldn’t do that. She’d worked too hard and long to risk her heart on a man with his reputation, let alone her chances of winning her dream job. And so she called Ginger back to the bedroom and soothed her restless soul by lulling the dog to sleep.
Stick to the task at hand. How the fuck hard was that?
Prior to meeting Jilly it hadn’t been all that difficult at all. Since meeting Jilly it seemed a damned impossibility.
Brendan had sneaked into her home almost a dozen times in the past two weeks. Though he hadn’t spoken more than a few words other than those meant to stimulate her, the need to uncover her secrets was like a living thing. He still had no idea what it was about her—the enigma of her night-and-day character shifts? The fact that she never failed to keep him guessing? Or something else completely? Whatever it was, he wanted to go back again and again and again.
Christ, he’d never wanted to leave her in the first place.
He’d never experienced that with another woman, the desire to stay behind and hold each other, to kiss her for no reason at all but to see her eyes light up and a myriad of emotions pass over her expressive face.
It was a damned bad thing that he was feeling it now.
As much as he knew that, he also knew he wasn’t ready to end his nights with Jilly. If nothing else was to be said for these last weeks, he had managed to accomplish a good deal of work, and had made several strong connections with major players at the Wild Side. Unfortunately, so had Jilly. It was foolish trying to compete with her. They should be tackling this thing together. But that wasn’t an option any more than it was an option to spend the night with her. She didn’t want him in her home, her bed or even her mind for any longer than it took to have them both climaxing. He shouldn’t, either. That he did was something he wasn’t going to waste any more time worrying over. There was no reason to worry so long as Jilly felt the way she did.
He was late again.
They were two and a half weeks into their affair, and Jillian had decided Brendan kept her waiting on purpose to aggravate her, which in its own twisted way stimulated her. And made her edgy, and think about things she had no right thinking about, like how badly she wanted him to ask about the real her again. When push came to shove, she might not have what it took to tell him the reasons why she acted the way she did, but she wanted the opportunity to try, wanted to ask him questions in return and discover what he felt toward her, if anything.
A scraping sound at the bedroom window had her gaze whipping to the opened sill and her heart beating with expectancy. A branch from a neighboring tree rapped against the side of the house, brushing at the window’s frame.
She sighed. Not Brendan, just a branch.
An hour later, Jillian accepted the truth. He wasn’t coming. It was too late. Almost two already and he never came so late.
He wasn’t planning on coming over again, period.
It shouldn’t be a shock. She’d always known he bounced from one woman to the next without regret; Tawny reminded her of that fact on a daily basis. But he’d come back to her so many times. Not once since the night he’d asked who she really was—when she’d retaliated with nastiness—had he attempted to voice the question again. He didn’t need to ask, because the wonder was in his eyes every single time they touched. Between that question and the cautious, almost reverent way he’d held her the last few nights, she’d nearly convinced herself he could feel something for her.
It was a senseless idea, knowing what she did about him. Still, hurt pressed at her chest. The bumping that had become increasingly familiar and harder to pass off as exertion returned, knocking at her ribs. She squeezed her eyes shut and blocked out the sensations, refusing to accept heartache where he was concerned.
So he didn’t want to sleep with her any longer. So what? Yes, she did want a family eventually, wanted someone to love and be loved by in return. There was plenty of time for that and scads of men more suitable for the task than Brendan. Right now her focus needed to be on work.
She’d finished her marketing presentation for the Wild Side that afternoon and planned to turn it in to Larry tomorrow. The tangible part done, she would dedicate the next few days to schmoozing until the new senior advertising account executive was appointed. It wasn’t her style to suck up, but it would be well worth the sweet victory of grabbing the job out from under Brendan’s arrogant nose. It was a comforting thought, and the one Jillian clung to as she drifted to sleep.
5
T he worst day of his life was about to begin. If not the worst, then it was a damned close second.
Larry had pulled Brendan into his office as he was heading out for home last night and proceeded to congratulate him on his new position as senior advertising account executive. The news had sunk in slowly and was bittersweet as hell. The advancement and healthy raise that came with it put him in a position to stay with Neilson & Sons for as long as he wanted, which in turn meant staying in Atlanta—a city where he wasn’t known as his father’s son, or expected to perform a certain way simply because his heritage and reputation dictated it. At the very least, the expectations weren’t so high here. They left room for him to breathe comfortably.
Almost comfortably.
Son of a bitch. If he’d known Larry would make up his mind before giving Jilly’s proposal adequate consideration, he never would have turned his in so early. He would have waited until the last possible second, so at least he felt like she’d had a fight
ing chance.
Not that it would have made a difference.
According to Larry, he knew both Brendan and Jillian were more than competent to take over the position. It was Brendan’s relaxed, team-player attitude that swayed his decision. While Jillian was a great asset to Neilson, her stiff nature and the formality she treated the bulk of her colleagues with made it hard for him to promote her to a role that would require staff management. Larry had made it sound as if he were saving her from herself by not giving her the job.
What he wasn’t doing was saving Brendan from Jilly.
She was going to hate him after this. She would find a way to blame him for certain. In a way, it was his fault. Had he not come to work for Neilson & Sons, she would have been the natural choice for the position. At the same time, if he hadn’t come to work here he never would have met her, never realized that sometimes freedom wasn’t the answer. Never acknowledged he could care about a woman on a level other than a physical one.
He cared about Jilly.
Too much to have Larry deliver the news to her. Brendan had taken that task upon himself. Initially he’d planned to go to her house last night and tell her there in an attempt to save her from making a scene in the office. But then he’d realized how bad of an idea that was. She would have thought he was there for sex. And given the way she’d started to anticipate his arrival, the way she’d meet him at the door or the window or whatever route he might use to get inside her house, he never would have gotten the words out. He would have taken one look into her moss-green eyes, seen the passion alive in their depths and jerked her into his arms. He wouldn’t have let go again until he was buried hilt deep and experiencing the soul-bending connection he longed to share with so much more than her body.
Going to her place hadn’t been an option, and so he’d opted to tell her first thing this morning. The news was supposed to be kept secret until the official announcement on Friday. Since Larry had already had his personal assistant place the costume order for the party that would be held as part of the marketing campaign, Brendan wasn’t counting on that secret enduring.
After Hours Page 7