by Christa Wick
Montgomery's hold on her tightened. “Don’t faint on me, Katelyn.”
Faint on him?
As if!
She swiveled her head and blinked. Looking at him did nothing to steady her thoughts. She'd seen him in pictures and on television, heard him speak a couple of times at congressional hearings, but his voice and appearance were different in person. The small, visible laugh lines around his mouth and eyes made him more human and his voice, set against the backdrop of his quiet garden, had a tone too intimate for her body to ignore.
She shook her head, swallowing before she answered so she wouldn't squeak at him. “No. I'm fine.”
“I'll judge for myself.” Pressing one palm against Katelyn's back, Montgomery firmly took her hand and folded her into the back seat of the limo like he was storing one of the priceless Ming vases she knew he collected. He slid in next to her, coming to a stop only once their bodies touched, his thick thigh running parallel to her slimmer one.
He nodded at the driver waiting to close the door. “My case is by the pool.”
“Very good, sir.” The man shut the door and walked a quick line to the garden and back, placing the case in the rear of the vehicle.
Straightening her skirt, Katelyn put a few inches of distance between her and her host before she smiled at him. “Really, Mr. Montgomery, I'm okay.”
Leaning forward, he opened the door to a small refrigerator. Taking a linen napkin, he dumped a handful of ice into its center as he watched her from the corner of his eye. “It's a first name kind of company, Katelyn. You should have researched that.”
“I did.” She put her hand out, expecting him to give her the ice. “I was raised to start formal and wait for an invitation to use someone's first name.”
“Invitation extended. Slide over.” He spoke exactly like a man who expected immediate obedience. “You need to elevate that ankle.”
No quantifiable reason existed for her to refuse, but instinct advised caution. She hesitated and he tilted his head at her. The slight flare of his nostrils told her she was trying his patience already. She lost another second studying his face.
She had no doubt he could stare down a charging bull. His gaze, when he looked at her, was laser focused and unblinking. His mouth puckered decisively, his jaw set so that the total impression was implacable. He had told her to move -- there would be consequences if she didn't.
A brush fire of need flamed across her skin, dying just as quickly as it had erupted. She slid along the seat, lifting her right leg. Catching it gently, he slid the pump off and brought her heel down to rest against his thigh. Finding his touch light and his body heat discernible through the silk dress pants, Katelyn tensed at the intimacy of the contact.
A blush crept across her cheeks as she realized it wasn't Montgomery her gut had warned her against but her own repeating reaction. She glanced nervously at the raised partition separating them from the driver. The man's attention was focused on the front of the car as he pulled onto the street.
Montgomery settled the ice pack across her ankle. “The glass is one way.”
Feeling like Montgomery had just read her mind, her body drew another notch tighter. She resisted the impulse to look at him, not wanting him to read anything more from her expression.
“Does it hurt much?” His hand curled along the back of her calf as his other kept the makeshift ice bag in place. The fingers were warm against her skin, the tips surprisingly callused for a man who made his money buying and selling entire industries.
Trying to relax, she concentrated on the cold penetrating her swollen ankle and not the rough brush of his fingertips along the underside of her leg. Her lower torso refused the attempt. Her stomach clenched, her hips narrowing as she tightened her thighs.
Shit, she shouldn't feel aroused and out of control.
She had spent the last four years chasing down big donors for the charities that employed her. The experience had left her with a certain disdain for the rich and a proven immunity to the magnetic good looks of men like Montgomery.
Up until today.
“I asked if it hurts.”
She shrugged, hoping he couldn't read the effect he had on her. “I've hurt worse.”
“I remember,” he said. His hand brushed a familiar line up her calf. “You had a three-inch gash on your leg the last hundred meters of your trial.”
Her mouth tensed. She'd had too many conversations on the topic of her Olympic trials with near strangers. Everyone wanted to know why she had dropped off Team USA after qualifying. If she wanted him to hire her, she couldn't exactly tell Montgomery it was none of his fucking business.
Not with those words, at least.
“Didn't realize you were a fan,” she said. She started to pull her leg back.
His grip tightened.
“You need at least fifteen minutes of icing.” Letting go of her leg for a few seconds, he pushed the intercom button and rattled off her address to the driver. His gaze cut in her direction. The side of his mouth that she could see lifted in a smile, crinkling his eye at the corner. “Correct?”
“Yes.” Her stomach did a nervous flip before she remembered Montgomery was rumored to have perfect recall, so it shouldn't be the least bit creepy -- or flattering -- that he had memorized her address. He need only have seen it once.
When he turned his interest back to her and her swollen ankle, she smiled at him. “Mr. Montgomery, about the posi--”
“Griffin.” His hand slid a little higher up her calf as he angled her leg to inspect the swelling. A fast healer, her flesh had already responded favorably to the ice.
“Job's filled, but I have other positions for you.”
The way his voice dropped at the end, she was half certain he had just propositioned her. She pushed the thought away as impossible until she met his gaze.
Ice blue, the eyes would be merciless in a boardroom. In the back of his limo, they smoldered, the dark, expressive brows and thick lashes framing their heat into a fuck-me command.
Need pooled between her thighs, a sudden high volume of moisture seeping from her hot interior. She shook her head, told herself she was only imagining the heat in his eyes and voice, projecting onto him her own unexpected but intense attraction. “Wh…what positions?”
Dropping the ice onto a side tray, Griffin leaned closer. His arm stretched along the top of the seat, his fingers manipulating the tie that held her hair before she realized what he had done. Watching the rich waves of brown silk spill onto Katelyn's shoulders, he brought the full attention of his hands to her flesh.
The calloused fingertips surfed up the inside of her leg, his raw baritone slamming into her gut with its heavy weight. “Twenty-eight is far too old to be naïve, Katelyn. You're a beautiful woman with exactly the kind of stamina I need in a lover.”
His hands had made it all the way up her thighs. He brushed the gusset of her panties, the telltale wetness exposing her arousal. Arching his brow, the right side of his mouth lifted in a sensual smirk. He found the edge of the panel and pushed the fabric aside. Parting the soft hairs of her sex, he ran his fingers against the seal of her labia.
She gasped, then moaned, her legs shifting to wriggle away but only providing him greater access. He drew his bottom lip in, the flesh re-emerging as wet and red as the tight channel his fingers explored. Griffin slid closer, his free hand pushing her skirt higher to completely expose her thighs. “You're not going anywhere, Kate. Not when you're wet enough to drink from.”
She had retained a runner's legs, the flexing thighs lean but muscular. Pinning the bottom panel of her underwear to the side with one thumb, he spread her swollen outer labia to find the inner petals glistening beneath a thick layer of moisture.
He slowly licked his lips, his gaze shuttering as he pushed two fingers into her pussy. Finding her hot and drenched, he inhaled sharply and looked into her startled eyes. “I could take you now.”
Too stunned by his swift attack and her
body's betrayal to say anything, she didn't argue.
“I won't,” he said. The pad of his thumb landed on her clit to run small circles. “Not today.”
Her nipples puckered inside her bra, the fabric suddenly too tight from her need. She squirmed, inhaling big gulps of air without releasing them as his fingers stroked inside her. Already hovering at the edge of orgasm, she parted her lips.
She should tell him “no,” push his hands away, do something -- anything -- to stop him.
A moan escaped, shaming her with its neediness.
Wrapping his hands around her hips, Griffin jerked her down the seat until she was flat on her back. He cupped her mound, his grip hard and possessive. “Make that sound again and you'll spend tonight in my bed.”
Katelyn bit down on a second moan. She tried to school her face into some semblance of self-control but he gave a little squeeze, pushing her right back to the edge of release. Her lips parted, closed, no sound escaping them as the muscles of her throat fought for silence.
Griffin gazed intently at her face. Feeling the small push of her bottom lip and delicate furrow of her brow, Katelyn knew he was right. He really could take her. Her body pulsed with the need for him to do so.
“I see the mugging left you too vulnerable.” With a low-rumbling growl, Montgomery released her. “I apologize.”
She watched him settle against the seat, his focus fixed on the front of the limo. Subtly shifting his hips, he adjusted the erection bulging along his thigh, freeing it to run a hard line up to the buttoned waist of his slacks.
What the hell? One minute he’s ready to fuck, the next he’s watching traffic!
Katelyn eased her skirt down her thighs and sat up. With his attention never wavering from the front of the limo, she continued watching him. A fist balled his right hand, the middle joint pressing against his top teeth. Even in profile, she could see the wide flare of his nostril and the tense line of his jaw.
Lowering her gaze back down to his lap, she took a shaky breath in. The slight adjustment to his slacks Griffin made had given him room to grow. She could see the full length and thickness of his erection. The front panel pushed at least two inches up from his abdomen, making him as wide front to back as most men were side-to-side. Visually measuring off the length, her mouth suddenly flooded.
She swallowed, gave her top lip a tentative lick and finally called him by his first name. “Griffin…”
“Don't, Kate.”
He appeared to be at the edge of control, reining in his need with a white-knuckled grip. Squashing the reckless desire to ask what she should stop doing, Katelyn retreated along the seat until her back pressed against the opposite side of the limo.
She looked out the window. Recognizing her street, an odd mix of relief and regret tightened the muscles of her face. She had almost lost herself to the moment with this man. It didn’t matter that he was charismatic, forceful and as handsome as he was rich. She had trained to be Iron Kate -- not just with her running but her emotions.
Especially with her emotions.
The limo pulled to a stop. Not waiting for the driver, she reached for the door. Griffin's big hand locked around her wrist to restrain her. “Philip will be here nine tomorrow morning. Don't make him wait.”
From the strain around Griffin's eyes, she knew it wasn't Philip's potential wait annoying him. He looked ready to devour her and he hadn't loosened his grip. With him staring at her like that, his hand a vise, it took several seconds before she found her voice.
“For what?”
He smiled and she knew the wolfish grin belonged to the billionaire CEO and not the hot-blooded lover of a few seconds ago.
"Negotiations."
********************
In the private lexicon of Griffin Montgomery, “negotiations” meant handing Katelyn a platinum-forged pen and ordering her to sign a non-disclosure contract offering an amount more than a year's salary at her last job in exchange for seven days of…
Taking a deep breath, she re-read the Scope of Services paragraph. She exhaled, the paper shaking in her hand as a full-body blush bloomed slowly across her flesh. In terms of sexual submission, nothing was outside the scope of services. To keep the fifty thousand dollars he offered, she would have to comply with his every desire and keep her mouth shut about it forever after. She couldn't believe she had climbed into the limo that morning or that she was still sitting in his massive home office and hadn't at least tried to punch the smug smile off his face.
To do that, she'd have to look at his face first. Her eyes kept stalling at his torso. Bare-chested, fresh from a workout with his immaculately sculpted chest and arms still coated with perspiration, Griffin sat behind his desk watching her. Hearing the chair creak, she glanced over to find him leaning forward, his elbows resting atop the polished surface.
“Stop pretending you're offended and sign it, Katelyn.”
She glared at him, her gaze bouncing off his nose to land on his ear. “I am.”
“You've been too busy looking at my chest to be offended, beautiful.” He ran a hand over his torso, drawing her attention to a drop of sweat that had beaded at the tip of one small, hard nipple. The bead broke, moisture streaking down his tanned skin. “Which is hardly fair the way you're all buttoned up…”
His pause dragged her attention to his face. His gaze pointed directly at her nipples. They had puckered inside her blouse as she read the contract, the graphic terms mixed with subtler phrasing causing more than just her breasts to ache. She only hurt harder when he trapped the edge of his bottom lip between his teeth and continued staring, his nostrils gently flaring.
She shielded her chest with the contract, the shake in her hands restarting so that the paper fluttered against the fabric and she could feel its soft staccato beat against the sensitive tips.
His gaze slowly inched up until he looked at her with the most sexually intense expression she'd ever seen. Skin flushing hotter, she slapped the contract on his desk unsigned. “I'm leaving.”
He shook his head, uncoiled from his chair and rounded the desk. Hyperaware, she heard the fall of each step it took him to reach her.
5…4…3…2…1
Looking over her shoulder, she watched his hands reach for her, grasp her upper arms and lightly squeeze.
“Breathe, baby.”
Realizing she'd stopped the second he stood up, she sucked a deep breath in.
“That's my girl.”
Mesmerized by the contact, she nodded, caught herself half way and stopped. She wasn't his girl, would never be his girl. He only wanted a week with her.
She sucked in another mouthful of air, surprised at the sudden pain in her chest. What did she care how much time Griffin wanted with her. He wasn’t getting another second!
Or at least not another second after her muscles unknotted.
He trailed his index finger along her neck to her hair. She had pulled it into an updo that morning and he freed one pin. “I heard you broke the mugger's nose and wouldn't let the cops drop you off anywhere.”
Lifting her chin, Katelyn looked up at him. “How…”
He pulled another pin free, his gaze searching for the remaining pin as he answered. “You think I can't get someone on the Chicago PD to talk?”
Finding the third pin, a smile lit his face. He eased it out, tossed the piece of metal onto his desk with the other two then ran his fingers through her hair. He tightened his grip, his hands securing her skull so she had to continue looking up.
Fingering one lock, he stared into her eyes. “I want to know what this feels like spilling against my stomach, your mouth on my cock, those soft lips sucking me until I'm so close to coming I have to take you.”
She closed her eyes. She couldn't look at him, his expression so intense it infected her with need. Reaching up, she tried to pull his hands away. “Just what else did the police say?”
“Nothing. That was all I needed to know.” He let go of her, only to push t
he chair closer to the desk, trapping her between the two pieces of furniture. His broad chest pressed against her shoulders as he reached out and pulled the pen and paper within her reach. “You're pathologically independent, Kate. But you don’t want to be.”
She stiffened. A little huff of air left her body. Grabbing hold of the chair's armrests, she tried to force her way up.
“Not so fast, baby.” He pressed down on her shoulders, his leverage and strength too much for her. Caressing his way down her arm, he wrapped his fingers around her hand and placed it on the desk next to the pen.
Lifting her hair to the side, he brushed his lips along the curve of her neck. A shiver ran through her. He must have felt it because he groaned and reached over her shoulder to cup a breast. Beneath the crisp linen shirt and bra she had dressed in that morning, her nipples pursed and pouted with need.
Squeezing her swollen flesh, he kissed her neck again. He thumbed one nipple, the simple sensation provoking a moan from Katelyn. Her flesh began tingling, the throb building between her legs making her squirm.
********************
Staring down at Katelyn, Griffin watched her fight her desire. She wanted to sign, he could see that. Her skin flushed a pale pink and she kept sucking and biting at her lower lip. Inside her blouse, her nipples tented the fabric and the faintest brush of his hand across one sensitive tip made her gasp with need.
Yet she still wouldn't pick up the damn pen and sign.
Fine, no rule saying he had to play fair. He sucked the lobe of her ear into his mouth, his other hand curling across the top of her thigh. “I promise, baby. All the parts of you I break, you won't miss.”
She moaned again, exactly like she had in the back of his limo. His cock ached just from the sound. Impatient, he lifted her from the chair and sat her down on his desk. She tried to slide off. He pulled her back, spreading her legs so that the top of his thighs and his crotch filled the space between them.
He had learned enough about her background to guess she didn't like willful men. A cautionary voice inside his head told him to proceed more gently before she foolishly rebelled and actually left. Listening to that voice wasn't easy. He could smell her arousal. The scent triggered a war between his cock and his intent to softly bring her to the point of signing the paper.