Office Player

by Eden Summers

  She moved to the glass in front of him, a mere step away from the shower’s opening. They were so close, but she wanted to be closer. She wanted to be on the other side of the glass, his heated touch scorching a trail over her naked flesh.

  Raising a shaky hand, she placed it on top of his through the barrier separating them. Unable to see the way he worked himself due to their proximity, she drowned in his eyes, aware that his hand had increased in pace by the movement of his upper arm.

  Her heart pounded. Her throat was dry and rough as sandpaper as her core clenched, demanding attention. She needed to leave, to end the battle of wills and stop making things between them more complicated. How could any other man compare or live up to the sensations she now associated with passion and lust?

  “Talk to me.” He tilted his head forward to rest against the glass.

  “I-I…” She shook her head. She was acting like a nun, unable to speak or think or breathe. “I don’t know what to say.” She bit the inside of her mouth in frustration. She wanted to please him, but her inhibitions held her back. She licked her lips, and he responded with a groan, loud and long.

  “Your mouth drives me crazy.” He dropped his head back, eyes closing for a second before his gaze returned to hers.

  She copied his stance, moving so her forehead rested against his. Millimeters separated them, yet they were so far apart, and still, his raw expression empowered her to say the words she’d been withholding.

  “Come for me,” she breathed. Heat saturated her cheeks.

  His chest rumbled, primitive and fierce. His upper arm now moved in frantic motions while his eyes called for her to join him. She wouldn’t. She couldn’t risk falling for him any more than she already had. Even if it meant her body remained raw and sensitive. Keeping her job was more important than casual sex with a man who would never love her.

  “Say it again,” he commanded.

  “Come for me.” Her voice became louder, more forceful as they stared at each other, sharing the most erotic moment of her life.

  Without warning he threw his head back, his hair mingling with the water’s spray, her name leaving his lips on a moan.

  She glanced down at the hand frantically working his cock. She stared, inquisitive and aroused beyond her wildest dreams while his seed landed on the glass separating them. He continued to work himself, his strokes short and sharp at the head of his shaft.

  Her gaze didn’t leave his sex as his movements slowed. Damn, she needed a relief, just a little respite from the hyperawareness of her body. Even her nipples ached from the friction of her bra.

  “Jesus Christ.” His palm stopped stroking.

  She stepped back, breaking the hypnosis, retreating from the intensity to gain her composure. However, she couldn’t tear her gaze from him.

  She breathed deeply, slowing the rapid pace of her heart while he positioned his body under the shower spray, washing himself off and splashing water on the glass before wrenching the taps off.

  In a flash of movement, he maneuvered his chest around the glass, grabbed her arm, and pulled her into the shower stall.

  She squealed in protest. The abrupt capture made her feel like a mouse in the lion’s den. Her heart took off at a gallop, and she had a moment to catch her breath before he placed her against the wet, tiled wall.

  Instead of pushing away, trying to distance herself, she clung to him. Her hands gripped his hard triceps, her lips tilted up to meet his as he moved in to devour her mouth. Teeth clashed, tongues collided, his dominating, hers submitting as they writhed together.

  Water from his body and the glass seeped into her clothes, cooling her skin, yet it didn’t douse the fire in her belly. The contrast only made her hotter.

  Without warning he leaned back, breaking the connection. He stared into her eyes, his face contorted with a frown. “I can’t believe you didn’t beg.”

  She laughed.

  He boasted heated passion one minute and cheeky flirt the next. If only he knew how close she’d been to conceding defeat.

  Stroking a lock of soaked hair from his forehead, she smiled at him. “Maybe you’ve lost your Midas touch.”

  He inched forward, his gaze sharp, scrutinizing her. If he kissed her again she would cave. She would hitch her skirt up and beg to be taken. But his face diverted at the last moment to nuzzle his nose into her neck, hitting the sensitive spot at the join of her shoulder.

  “Maybe I just need to try a little harder,” he whispered.

  His breathy declaration tightened around her heart and her responding chuckle came out awkward. “Or maybe we should leave.”

  Chapter 8

  Beth in her business suit and high heels turned him on like nobody’s business. Seeing her in casual clothes, her body on display in skintight material, caused his cock to ache relentlessly.

  The black ruffled skirt currently hugging her fine ass finished just above her knees. It was the entire reason he’d been walking behind her as they strolled up and down the grocery aisles. Not that he didn’t enjoy the view from the front. The baby pink sports singlet fit her like a glove, showing off an impressive figure, her trim belly and small, firm rack.

  She looked completely transformed from the woman he salivated over in the office. She even held herself differently, her smile more like a devilish grin, her eyes conspiring and more mischievous than the professional businesswoman from Sutherland & Son.

  He couldn’t decide which side he loved more, the confident, sophisticated femme fatale or the playful, tempting bombshell. And holy fuck, he had used the L-word without conscious thought. Nothing shriveled up a man’s package more than the L-word or the commitment that usually came with it. Yet he still felt as hot as a firecracker.

  He tried to shake it off, occupying himself with the unanswered question that had plagued him for the last few hours. Was she wearing a G-string or going without panties altogether?

  If he considered her modesty, the way she blushed in heated situations and the usual G-string panty line under her suits, he would guess G-string. But the damn woman was hot as Hades today.

  Her heated whisper of Come for me still echoed in his ears and the thought of her wearing no panties made him want to try all the harder to find out.

  He still couldn’t believe she’d watched him in the shower. He intentionally left the door open, thinking his nudity would embarrass her. He hadn’t anticipated her enjoying the performance.

  And he never knew grocery shopping could be this enjoyable. He’d spent the last ten minutes constantly staring at the firmest, most mouth-watering ass he’d ever had the pleasure of admiring.

  His housekeeper usually stocked his cupboards and fridge. He only needed to get the occasional milk or bread. This experience, however, was something he wanted to do more often.

  She stopped a few feet ahead, causing him to snap back to reality. With reluctance he removed his gaze from her delectable curves to take a cursory glance at what she would put in the basket next. Only she hadn’t paused to put anything in. She peered over her shoulder, catching his stare as it left her butt.

  He waited for the indignant expression, not having to pause long before he received it. He smiled back, attempting to seem innocent. Apparently, he wasn’t all that convincing, because she raised her brows and rolled her eyes.

  The slight tilt to her lips as she turned away didn’t escape him though, and she continued down the aisle with an added swing to her step. She loved the attention as much as he loved giving it.

  He didn’t know why she fought their attraction. Okay, maybe he did. His reputation was an obstacle they needed to overcome. Since Jessica he hadn’t bothered paying attention to women, unless they were in his bedroom, or in an effort to get them there. His father had made him bitter—resentful—and his hatred for the opposite sex had taken a while to simmer down.

  Beth had changed him. Her unwavering kindness and exuberance made him feel like Mary Poppins or some shit, seeing a ray of sunshine at
the end of the freaking tunnel.

  As he followed her past the cold section, he grabbed a can of whipped cream, feeling the need to push the boundaries one more time. When he caught up to her he held up the can and raised his brows.

  He would have wagered good money on her blushing and telling him to put it back, perhaps even taking the time to remind him of the no-sex rule. She surprised him again. Instead of arguing, she merely shook her head in resignation and watched him place the can with the rest of the groceries.

  This could be the green light he’d been looking for. Maybe he should take a turn back down the chocolate fudge aisle and get all the ingredients to make a proper meal out of her.

  Two aisles later, he had his mind stuck in a strange mental space. His thoughts drifted from the human chocolate sundae to things of a more permanent nature.

  Could he do this every weekend? Grocery shopping with her like a normal couple? He had no doubt they would be great together. He enjoyed her company, she was passionate in bed, and her beauty—

  “Dean?”

  He glanced up to see her frowning at him. “Sorry?”

  “Are you staying for dinner? I’ll buy something for us to eat if you are.”

  Well, maybe his Midas touch wasn’t broken after all. At least he didn’t have to beg for an invitation.

  “Love to.” For the life of him he couldn’t stop staring at her as if she would be on the menu. “Don’t worry about cooking, though. I’ll buy takeout. How does Chinese sound?”

  “Dean? Dean Sutherland?” The feminine voice came from behind him, sending an unwelcome shiver down his spine. His mind couldn’t put a face to the tone, but without looking he knew he wouldn’t want to introduce the woman to Beth.

  With hesitation he accepted the inevitable and turned to find not one, but two ladies sauntering forward from the end of the aisle.

  Not good.

  Not good at all.

  Their bright smiles and postage stamp tops greeted him, making him freak the fuck out.

  Seriously? Seriously.

  When would he catch a break?

  And how the hell did he introduce them to Beth—Hey, sweetheart, I’d like you to meet the ladies who popped my threesome cherry. This is Britney and shit, sorry, what was your name?

  This would not go down well.

  “Ladies,” he greeted with a nod, trying to be civil while wanting to run like fuck. He couldn’t remember the other woman’s name. Not that he had plans of making introductions. He hoped the quick greeting would be sufficient before he could flee.

  Britney’s smile widened and she practically skipped toward him, big boobs bouncing as if trying to break free from her tiny top. Without a glance in Beth’s direction she ambled forward, planting a kiss on his cheek that lasted longer than the fucking bicentennial. Her roommate had the decency to stand back, content to give him seductive looks from a few feet away.

  What the hell could he say to them when they only had a threesome in common?

  So, how’s that flexibility of yours going?

  “What are you lovely ladies up to?” He hoped Beth would consider him more of a well-mannered gentleman for not giving them the brush-off.

  “I was just telling Stacy how boring tonight was going to be because we don’t have any plans.” A pout spread Britney’s tacky glossed lips while she tried to work him with her innocent eyes. She couldn’t fool the blind. The woman didn’t have an ounce of innocence left. “Maybe you could come over and the three of us could have another private party.”

  Warning bells sounded, loud and clear in his skull as she stroked a finger down his chest. He glanced at Beth, wanting to explain but she had already turned and started walking away.

  Great.

  Just when his fantasies of whipped cream and fudge sauce were about to become a reality.

  He huffed and glared down at Britney. The woman was a leech, and she knew damn well that he already had company.

  “Sorry, not interested,” he growled, biting back the need to yell in frustration.

  Her lusty expression turned to shock as he grabbed her wrist and dropped it away from his chest. No doubt this was the first time she’d been rejected because she seemed to have problems understanding the concept.

  “Look, I’ve gotta go.” He gave a two-finger wave to Britney’s friend, whose name he’d already forgotten, and started walking.

  Talk about your private parts shriveling. His nuts were practically burrowing their way into his gut, searching for sanctuary in case Britney caused a scene. He heard her sputter and scoff, but didn’t bother to look back as he went in search of Beth.

  After five minutes of walking the aisles he found her at the checkouts, placing items on the conveyor with more determination than necessary. She was upset and didn’t bother to make eye contact when he moved to stand beside her.

  “Sorry about that.” He had nothing else to offer. What did you say to the woman you were trying to impress after running into your old threesome buddies?

  “No problem.” She focused her attention on unloading the groceries.

  He grabbed the remaining items, the whipped cream included, and placed them on the conveyor. He noticed how she watched the can, staring in a daze for a moment before she frowned and looked away.

  Back to square one again by the looks of it.

  He grabbed her hand, entwining their fingers as he’d enjoyed doing earlier. Her gaze darted from their joined fingers, to his eyes, before she turned her back to him.

  Leaning in, he inhaled the sweet smell of her perfume and let his voice whisper over her neck. “You okay?”

  Her exhale was audible, the emotional exhaustion hitting his ears to give him a heavy dose of guilt. “Perfect.”

  Bullshit.

  They both knew she was lying. He had no plans of letting it fly. The idea of spending the rest of the afternoon in awkward silence or uncomfortable conversation didn’t sit well with him.

  “You’re upset.”

  She had already put on her indifferent mask, hiding behind a tight smile and placating eyes.

  “No. I’m just being silly.” She turned to face the checkout attendant, clearly wanting to drop the subject.

  Did he take the hint? Hell no; he lapped up her displeasure. He squeezed her hand, giving a little tug until she turned back to face him with a huff.

  “You’re jealous.” He couldn’t contain himself; he grinned like a lunatic. She may have been coping with her feelings in the sweetest way possible, trying to change the subject and move on, but she was jealous.

  Her eyebrows pulled together, and she stared into the distance over his shoulder. “They’re beautiful.”

  The awe in her voice hit him like a kick in the balls. She spoke as if her own beauty was inferior.

  He leaned in close and placed a peck on her cheek. He ached to kiss her lips, to pull their bodies together and reassure her with actions instead of words, but he didn’t want to weaken the conversation by turning it into a heated make-out session.

  “Yeah, they’re attractive…in a cheap and easy kind of way. You, Beth, are beautiful.” He marked his words by moving over to kiss her other cheek. “Naturally gorgeous.” Another kiss to her jaw. “Remarkably alluring.” He added a final nip to the low of her neck.

  He moved his head back and stared into her eyes, trying to convey his sincerity. Christ, she was exquisite, the most mesmerizing woman he’d ever seen, and she had no clue.

  She shook her head with a dramatic roll of her eyes. “You’re smooth. Real smooth.”

  He fixed her with a smirk, happy with himself for making her smile. He wanted to lean in and kiss her again, on the lips this time. Before he had the chance, the moment was broken by the checkout attendant.

  “That’ll be seventy-eight dollars and twenty cents, thanks.”

  Chapter 9

  Hours later Beth sat on her upstairs balcony, a glass of wine in hand and a sense of cluelessness clouding her brain. The sun’s rays
dwindled, the warmth of the day becoming chilly as night crept into the sky.

  She had spent the afternoon trying not to let the tall, slim, and stacked women from the supermarket ruin her day. It was a rare occurrence to sleep with the man of your dreams, or have the pleasure of watching him grease the sprocket in the shower. She’d gone too far to let reality seep in now.

  If only she could forget the comment about the three of them having a private party.

  The bile that had risen up her throat at the syrupy way the leggy blonde cooed at him still soured her mouth. The thought of him sharing himself with one woman at a time had been painful enough. She’d never contemplated him having multiple partners at once. Her ignorance proved just how far out of her depth she was.

  Although she thought her knowledge of him was fairly thorough, the last twenty-four hours had been a revelation. She had learned so much about him, yet she had no idea how he felt toward her or if his intentions were only focused on sex.

  She loved the way his teasing brought a smile to her face she couldn’t seem to wipe off. Buying the whipped cream, for instance.

  While she busied herself with unpacking the groceries, he had scavenged through each bag. The next thing she knew, the burst of sound from the pressure-filled can had echoed off the kitchen walls. When she turned in surprise, he was right behind her, his index finger covered in cream, which he then ran along her lips.

  She didn’t have a chance to move back or lick the sweetness away before his mouth was over hers, doing the task for her.

  They had stumbled over half-empty grocery bags as he backed her into the corner of the kitchen. Then without effort he lifted her to sit atop the counter and began devouring her mouth, his force and demanding desire making her sex throb.

  “What are you thinking?” his voice snapped her back to the present.

  She watched in a lazy stare while he took a swig of his beer, waiting for a reply. The glow from the tea light candles made his dark eyes appear deep and menacing. Wisps of hair were loose around his forehead, and he sat back in his chair looking comfortable and content, not only in his own skin, but in her home.