by Layla Hagen
"I love that you can't get enough of me."
"Pride is a sin, you know that?" My voice comes out as a strangled whisper because Christopher's mouth is at the base of my neck, nipping and biting gently.
"So is tempting me."
"I'm not doing anything," I point out, holding my hands up to prove my point. Christopher is too busy doing delicious things to my neck to pay me any attention.
"Oh, you tempt me all the time. Everything about you is a temptation."
"You're a bad man, seducing me like this," I say weakly. "Do you want to go to my room?"
"I thought you'd never ask."
In silence, I lead him out of the kitchen, toward my office/bedroom. He keeps his hand on my lower back the entire way. There's something deeply intimate and protective about the gesture, and I love it.
Once inside the office, I lead him through the narrow space separating the office from the bedroom. It was masked by a tall ficus tree last time he was here.
"Smart way to separate spaces. I hadn't even realized there was a room here," he remarks as I activate the twinkle lights I laid across my headboard.
"This is it," I announce, gesturing around the small space.
"What's wrong?" he asks. "You sound off." When I don't offer an explanation, he tilts my head up so I have no choice but to make eye contact. "Victoria, if you don't want me to stay overnight, say it. I promise I won't mind."
"I… just…. This is the first time I’ve brought a man into this room. This house, actually." I shrug, not really sure what my jitters are about.
Christopher kisses my forehead, resting his hands on my shoulders. "It's an honor, Victoria. I promise I appreciate it."
"It feels so weird to have you here now that we're dating. Good weird," I add at his puzzled expression. "It's just a giant step… exposing the kids to someone new to love. If they lose you too…."
"Are you talking just about the kids or about you too?" His voice is soft, but the words pierce through me.
"Me too," I admit, feeling as if I've put my heart in his hands. His lips cover mine, gentle, reassuring, and passionate at the same time. I lose myself in his kiss, tugging at his hair, lightly grazing his scalp. With my other hand, I explore his torso, slipping under his shirt. His taut muscles feel amazing under the pads of my fingers.
"Thank you for being open with me," he whispers, descending to kiss my neck. I move my hips, pressing myself against him. "I love discovering this feisty side of you."
"And I love discovering your protective side." Protective is code for adorabilicious, but I needn't have bothered protecting his ego. He's too busy turning me on. "We have to be silent."
"Sweetheart, I can do silent and loud and everything in between. I will rock your world either way."
A sassy reply sits on the tip of my lip, but it melts away as Christopher sets me ablaze with one dark, meaningful look. He backs me against the wall, parting my legs with his knees. Leaning his forehead against mine, he breathes in deeply, smoothing his hands down my hair before descending to my cheeks, cupping them in a tender gesture.
There is something different about this moment. The whole evening has been beautiful, but this, right here, goes beyond beautiful. It's perfect and so intense that I swear the air between us crackles. This moment belongs to us alone, and I never want it to end.
"You feel it?" he asks.
"Yeah."
Pulling back, he places the pad of his thumb on a corner of my mouth, dragging it ever so slowly across my lower lip to the other corner.
"Since the first time I was here, I fantasized about bending you over your desk and fucking you silly."
His words travel straight to my intimate spot. His appearance turns almost feral. Stepping back, he pries me away from the wall, interlacing his fingers with mine. The contact is gentle and reassuring, and once again, I marvel at how fast he can go from passionate to gentle and caring.
"Since we're exchanging fantasies, I was hoping for some wall sex too."
"There's always later." He wiggles his eyebrows as we move into my office area.
I walk up to him next to the desk, feeling oddly naked in front of him, even though my dress isn't provocative in the slightest. It's homey and comfortable. But the way he looks at me, it's as if he can see what's underneath the deep blue fabric. With a simple, quick movement, he pulls the zipper down, pushing the dress off my shoulders. It falls to my feet, revealing my newest acquisitions, a matching set of red lace panties and bra. I might have put on a casual, homey dress, but underneath I dressed to impress, and my man seems very impressed.
"You're killing me," he whispers, cupping my breast over the fabric. My nipples turn to pebbles under the fabric, already yearning. "Your body is so responsive."
Looping an arm around my waist, he hoists me up on the desk. I want to lick the bit of skin visible through the opened top button of his shirt.
"How did I end up naked faster than you again?" I wonder out loud.
"You're not naked," he points out. In one swift move, he unclasps my bra, prying it away. My breasts spill free and Christopher groans. Pushing me back slightly, he lowers his head, taking one nipple between his lips.
Oh, damn damn damn!
My back arches involuntarily, and when he lightly twists the other nipple with his thumb and forefinger, I nearly lose it.
"Christopher!"
He pulls away, straightening up. The hunger in his expression is more intense than before.
"Lie back, rest on your elbows," he commands. His voice, so full of confidence and authority, turns me on as much as seeing his desire for me.
I decide to tease him first. I undo the button of his jeans and lower his zipper, pushing his pants and boxers down. Wrapping my hand around his hard-on, I move it up and down, watching him slowly come undone. His breath quickens, coming out in sharp exhales. When I drag my thumb across the tip of his length, he rewards me with a groan.
"Lie back," he repeats, his voice even more authoritative than before. I do as he says, perching my heels on the table, opening myself for him.
He touches my center over my panties, which are soaked. My thighs quiver slightly as he peels the thong off me, leaving me completely exposed.
Lowering himself a tad, he cups each of my ass cheeks in a hand, lifting my butt up until my center is level with his mouth. And then he licks me once, from my entrance up to my clit. My body becomes a slave to his mouth as he continues to pleasure me, and when he dips his tongue inside me, mimicking the act of making love, I feel like I'm about to rip out of my skin.
"I need…." My voice fades because my already sensitive nerve endings explode, heat radiating through me, making my toes curl.
Christopher pulls back, damn him.
"What do you need?"
"To touch you," I say with bated breath.
"Whatever the lady says." With a rueful smile, he holds out his hand, helping me hop down from the table. We're both shaking with desire as my fingers grope at his chest, a fumbled attempt to undo his buttons. Eventually I rid him of his shirt, tracing the lines and muscles of his chest with my fingers.
Lowering my hand, I palm his thick and hot length and I can feel his composure melting away. And then I feel his fingers gliding up and down my folds before dipping slightly inside me. Touching him while he touches me arouses me to no end.
“I’ll bring a condom.” I hurry to the nightstand next to my bed, returning quickly with a condom, ripping the package open and sliding it over him.
"Fuck," he growls. "I want to feel that sweet ass of yours against my thighs while I'm buried deep inside you."
"Do it," I challenge.
He turns me around, bending me slightly. I rest my palms against the wooden surface. He trails his mouth up my back, lavishing me with kisses.
Pushing my hair to the side, he kisses the back of my neck while he settles the tip of his erection against my ripe flesh. A shiver travels down my spine. When he rubs his tip around m
y entrance, teasing me, I suck in a deep breath. I've never been so aroused in my life.
He enters me in one swift move, and office sex might just become one of my favorite things. Sweet heavens, he's so deep inside me.
"Oh! This…." Dropping my voice to a whisper, I admit, "It’s so deep."
He stills. "Does it hurt?"
"No, I love it. I…. It never felt like this."
"I will be rough."
Goose bumps rise on my skin.
"I want you to," I say confidently. He pulls out only to slam into me, filling me. My knees become weak as he repeats the movement, faster, deeper. He places one hand on my shoulder, the other on my hipbone, gripping me tightly as if needing to ground himself. Then his hand descends from my hip to my center, and he circles my sensitive spot with his fingers. I nearly explode, meeting his thrusts with equal fervor and desperation, wanting my climax but at the same time not wanting this to end.
"I love seeing you this wild," he murmurs between groans. "You feel so perfect." His words spur something deep inside me. My orgasm builds slowly, with every thrust and every touch of his fingers on my bundle of nerves, but my release hits me with a mind-blowing intensity, fast and exhilarating.
Moments later, I feel him widening inside me, and he cries out his own release. Pulling me to him until my back is flat against his chest, he cradles me, his head resting in the crook of my neck. I sigh, safe and happy in his arms.
Chapter Twenty-One
Victoria
Over the next week, Christopher stops by the house every other night, sometimes eating dinner with us, sometimes only arriving after dinner if he had a late meeting. On Thursday, Sienna puts her foot down after dessert, saying Christopher and I need time alone for a proper date. She announces that the three of them will spend the weekend at Aunt Christina's.
Christopher grins at her appreciatively, turning to me. "Since we're being bossed into a day-long date, I'm going to make plans."
"Weekend-long date," Sienna corrects. "Aunt Christina said we can stay overnight."
"By the way, I have an invitation," Christopher says. "My parents have invited all of you for Thanksgiving dinner at their house."
"We'd love to join you," I reply honestly, though my stomach is in knots at the thought of meeting his parents.
"Excellent," Sienna says. "So you two are going on a weekend-long date this week, and in two weeks we'll be meeting your parents. I like how things are progressing."
Once Sienna leaves us alone, Christopher says, "There's something on your mind."
"How do you know?"
"Just a hunch."
We're sitting on the couch in the living room, and all the kids are upstairs. There is no chance of anyone overhearing us.
"I'm worried," I say.
"Has the guy from social services bugged you again?"
"No! I mean, I’ve talked to him on the phone for the monthly updates, but I'm worried about something else. A while ago I bumped into my former employer, Natasha, and she accused me of stealing her clients. When I decorated Alice's first restaurant, I was working for Natasha. She was pissed that Alice didn't use her company for the second restaurant. This week I met with a potential client who said he had a meeting with Natasha but didn't like what she pitched him. Then he saw my work. It's still in the company's portfolio since I was with Natasha while completing it, and he decided to contact me directly. I don't want to give her grounds to sue me or anything. I don't know if I should take him on as a client."
Christopher frowns, rubbing his jaw. "I don't see why you shouldn't, but I'm no lawyer. However, I have contact with very good lawyers. Would you like to talk to one?"
"Yes! Wait—What's he charging per hour?"
"He won't charge you."
"Hey, that's not fair. I don't want a free ride."
"You can pay me instead." He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.
"Christopher!"
"He won't charge you for one question, Victoria. But I want you to know one thing. You can count on me, no matter what." He pulls me onto his lap so that I'm straddling him. “Anything you or the kids need, just tell me. Anything, and I’ll make it happen.”
“You’re awfully sweet,” I say quietly.
“Your wish is my command. And your trouble is my trouble."
Christopher has slipped into my life so deeply I can't imagine it without him. I swear my heart skips a beat. "That's the most romantic thing you've said."
"Really?" He flashes my favorite grin. "I wasn't even trying. But since I just earned some points, can I spend the night here?"
"You don't have to ask. Of course you can. Don't you miss that beautiful apartment of yours?" We've been there with the kids one evening this week, giving them a tour. They loved it and wanted to sleep over, but since Christopher's second bedroom is an office and the couch is not a sleeper, that wasn't possible. Though I have the sneaking suspicion the kids would have happily slept on the floor just to stay there.
"Nah. I don't like being there on my own. It's empty without you and the kids."
I am simply in awe. That is until Christopher smirks.
"Now I was trying to be romantic. But it's true. In case you want to swoon, I've got you."
The mischievous bastard. I hold my ground, but I'm secretly swooning, of course.
***
The next day, I talk to Christopher's lawyer on the phone. He puts my mind at ease, assuring me Natasha has no grounds for suing, and it's absolutely my right to take on the client.
On Saturday morning, I drop the kids at Christina's house at ten o'clock and then return to my place to get ready for my date. The weekend with Christopher officially starts in two hours. He had a family thing this morning, but that worked for me. We made great plans for today. Going through our schedule in my mind, I realize it seems more like a marathon tour of San Francisco than a date, but we have a very logical explanation. We want to show each other the parts we love most about our city. He and I agree that no two people look at a city and see the same. On Sunday, we'll stay in at his apartment for a lazy day. I'm delighted at the possibilities brought by an entire day indoors with him alone. Yes, Christopher definitely woke my feisty side, and I'm enjoying the hell out of it.
I'm halfway dressed when my phone rings, Christopher's name appearing on the screen.
"Thinking of the devil," I say instead of hello upon answering. "I was trying to decide what would drive you crazier. Option one is a deep V-neck sweater, so deep you could see my navel if I bend forward and you really focus. Option two is a regular sweater with a decent neckline that I can wear without a bra. Thoughts?"
"Jesus. Are you trying to kill me here?"
"No, I merely like it when you look at me as if I walk on water."
"I always look at you that way."
It's true. With just one look, this man has the uncanny ability to make me feel like I'm the most important person in the world for him. But teasing him is too much fun to let this go.
"Well, it tends to happen more often when I wear something provocative."
"I can't help but feel a little insulted."
"Please do. Can you keep feeling insulted until you pick me up? I love your ‘I have to prove something’ kisses the most."
"That is adding injury to insult."
"I think it’s the other way around."
"Possibly. Listen, I can't make it in time."
My stomach drops. "What happened?"
"This thing we’re building is more complicated than we thought. It’ll take another few hours."
"Who is we? What are you building?"
"My brothers Sebastian, Logan, Blake, and me. My parents wanted an outdoor gazebo in time for Thanksgiving, and Mom ordered one online. The thing arrived earlier. My parents are out of town, and I thought we’d surprise them by building it for them. I thought it would be a piece of cake." In the background, male voices are arguing. I almost laugh as I imagine the four brothers flexing their macho stre
ak, declaring it would be child's play to build the gazebo only to realize they were in over their heads. "I should be done by dinnertime. We'd need to skip the city tour, but I promise I'll make it up to you. Sorry."
"You have nothing to be sorry about," I assure him. "How about I come by and keep you company?"
"You'd do that?"
"Of course. My other options for today are staying home and reading, going for a run, or going out with Isabelle and our other girlfriends if any of them doesn't have plans already, which is a slim chance. That only leaves you," I tease.
"I feel really special right now." Sarcasm drips from his voice. "But seriously, it would be very boring for you."
"I assure you it won't. I want to spend the day with you."
"Ah yeah, me and my brothers."
"Perfect. I get to meet them too. That way I'll already know a few people next week." I didn't tell him this, but the prospect of meeting his entire family is giving me jitters. At least if I meet some of his brothers today, I'll have a head start. I'm good at one-on-one conversations or entertaining a small group, but working a crowd, not so much. I want his family's approval. I want them to like me.
"Should I bring some cookies? We have a ton left from this morning."
"Did Lucas sneak chili peppers in them again or something?"
"No, I just made too many."
"Sure. We can do with some sustenance. Write the address down."
Ten minutes later, I'm speeding along the highway, grinning like I'm going on some big adventure. I keep switching radio channels, finally settling on the only one that seems to play happy, upbeat songs. Drumming my fingers on the wheel to the rhythm, I start singing along, fully aware that I'm as off-key as I can be. But what the hell; there's no one here to hear or judge me. Some people like to sing in the shower, but my need to express my vocally creative side seems to only kick in while I'm in motion.
Sometime along the way, doubt creeps in. What if Christopher didn't really want me to come over? We've been spending a lot of time together lately. What if he wanted some space? My heart squeezes as I weigh the merits of that theory. The truth is I've always been rather bad at catching on when a man needs his space, or not. I've had dates who threw in my face that I was too all over them, and others who claimed I wasn't all over them enough. What am I supposed to make of that?