His Every Touch [The Complete Series]

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His Every Touch [The Complete Series] Page 3

by Harriet Lovelace


  As he paced the length of his office, Vance ran through the prior day's events, searching for any indication that he'd pushed too hard.

  “Are things too hard for you, Ms. Bell?” He stressed the word intentionally, all too aware of his erection threatening to make itself known.

  When her jaw snapped shut, he had to suppress a grin. He straightened and circled around behind her, choosing his words carefully. “You did well your first two years here. Maybe all you need is some discipline.”

  He was thankful she couldn't see the expression that he knew crossed his face. There were so many ways he wanted to discipline her. He had to touch her. Before he could second guess himself, he ran his finger over the back of her neck, the heat from her skin blazing through him.

  “Mr. Forster.”

  He smirked when his name came out as a squeak. It was time to see just how obedient she was going to be.

  “Mr. Forster...”

  He cut her off. “Stand up.”

  When she questioned him, he stepped in front of her, blood rushing straight to his cock. “Why? Because you need someone to keep you in line, to provide discipline. Don't you?” He gave her a second to think it over, letting his eyes show everything he wanted to do to her. “Now, stand up.”

  She did, and he permitted himself the luxury of his gaze running over her, taking the time to appreciate the moment. He'd been waiting so long for this, he wanted to savor the first time she obeyed him, the first time he was able to look at her this closely and not have to hide what he was doing. “Very nice.” But it wasn't enough. He wanted to see more of her. “Take off your jacket.” When she started, he knew what she was thinking and amended his prior statement, letting his tone soften. “Just the jacket.”

  As she did what he said, he stepped behind her once more, not wanting her to see the pure lust in his eyes, or the bulge in his pants. He clenched his hands, fighting the urge to demand more, to tell her to strip for him. He wanted to see what lay beneath those garments, the pale flesh that had haunted him for years. He took a breath, regaining control. “Hands on the desk.”

  He watched her body tense and, for a terrible moment, he thought she would refuse, ending all of his plans. Then she did it, bending forward slightly so the fabric of her skirt molded to the curve of her ass. He hadn't intended to touch her, but he found he couldn't stop himself, he had to do it. If she rejected him, he'd never have the chance, and he had to know what it felt like to have his hands on her body, even through a layer of clothes. He gripped her waist, biting back the moan that wanted to come out. When she didn't protest, he leaned forward, letting her feel him against her so his intentions would be obvious. He wanted no misunderstandings between them. She didn't move, didn't ask him to stop. He ran his hands up her ribcage, barely daring to believe that she was letting him do this, and then he was holding her breasts and he thought he'd come right there in his pants. Only the realization that he needed to continue with her kept him sane.

  “You need someone to take a firmer hand with you, Ms. Bell. Punish you when you're out of line. Make sure you're living up to your potential.”

  When she shifted against him, he forced a laugh and took a step back. He didn't want to lose the contact with her body, but he really didn't want to walk around with damp underwear and pants for the rest of the day, and one more press of her ass against him and he wouldn't have an option. The groan of frustration she made was still almost too much, and his words came out a bit more harshly than he'd intended. “I think you need to learn the value of patience, Ms. Bell.”

  Vance returned to his chair just like he'd done yesterday. Then, it had been as much to hide his erection and get Courtney out of his office as quickly as possible so he could dart into his bathroom to take care of his not-so-little problem. Today, it was because he just couldn't pace anymore. Nothing in his memory told him that he'd misread her. It hadn't been his imagination or wishful thinking. She'd wanted him.

  Doubts and affirmations chased after each other throughout the rest of the day. Just when he thought he'd refocused and could finally get some work done, something would catch his eye and it would start all over again. It was three o'clock before he realized that he'd missed lunch, but he wasn't hungry. He forced himself to grab a handful of peanuts from a jar in his desk, but he barely tasted them. When five o'clock finally arrived, he bolted from his chair.

  “See you tomorrow, Emma.” He ignored the open-mouthed stare his assistant shot his way as he hurried past her. In all the years they'd worked together, he'd never left before her and certainly never left on time. He had a brief moment to consider what she'd read into it before he decided that he didn't care. He had to see her.

  Twenty minutes later, he was still sitting in front of her apartment building, arguing with himself. He knew which one was hers, could see the pale yellow curtains she'd hung. He desperately wanted to go up there, apologize for what he'd done and beg her to forgive him. Or maybe he wanted to go there to demand she keep the list of promises she so foolishly made. But he knew that neither option was the smart one. He should just leave and let nature take its course. Then the curtains twitched aside, and he caught a glimpse of her pale face and he knew he couldn't just leave. He still didn't know if he wanted her to forgive him or obey him, but he knew he had to find out.

  Vance took a deep breath and climbed out of his car. When he buzzed at the door, she didn't respond but let him in. A faint hope bloomed in his chest. She hadn't told him to fuck off, so there was still a chance to salvage whatever this could be. He paused at her door, far more nervous than he'd ever been before. Suddenly, he realized that he didn't know what to say.

  When the door opened, he improvised. “Hi.”

  Book Two

  She nearly passed out when he buzzed to come in. Why in the world had he shown up? Wasn't it enough that she'd humiliated herself with that email? Did he think he had to come fire her in person? For a moment, she considered not letting him in, but she knew that would just make it worse.

  When she opened the door, she couldn't quite stop her heart from skipping a beat. Tousled blue-black hair that looked like he'd spent all day running his fingers through it. Arctic blue eyes that somehow managed to be cold and hot at the same time. Tall, lean frame that she knew was far more defined than his well-fitted suits revealed. She waited for him to speak first. After the day she'd had, there was no way she was going to initiate the conversation.

  ***

  In twenty-seven years, Courtney Bell had never been so thoroughly mortified. When she'd read the attachment she'd emailed to her boss – the CEO of the company where she was among the lowest on the totem pole – she'd been so sure she'd be fired the second she walked in the door. When no one said anything to her, she'd immediately opened her email, expecting something, anything, from Vance Forster, the flirtatious CEO in question. Maybe a summons to his office.

  Her stomach tightened at the thought of the latter, and she felt a pleasurable warmth in her belly. A squirming, nervous warmth, but pleasurable nonetheless. What would he do to her if he called her up? With a rush of heat to her cheeks, she remembered what she'd written in her “assignment.” Obedience to whatever Vance told her to do. No panties and only thigh-high stockings. Spanking with myriad objects. Fucking her.

  Oh shit. Hadn't she said something about letting him fuck her ass if she'd been really bad? And just how bad was “really”?

  She'd been drunk. Courtney took a deep breath, slowly letting it out. He couldn't really hold her to all of that, could he? Courtney stood suddenly, needing to be alone. Ignoring the puzzled expressions of her co-workers, she hurried to the restroom.

  The water was cool on her fevered skin. She splashed it again, desperate to dissipate the flush that had appeared. She smoothed down her ash blond hair. The face that looked at her in the mirror was one she barely recognized. Her dark gray eyes were wild, her normally pale skin nearly translucent with the exception of two high spots of color on her cheeks.


  She had to call him. She couldn't sit around all day, just waiting for Vance to do something. She'd go nuts. Decision made, she returned to her desk and picked up the phone, dialing before she could change her mind.

  “Vance Forster's office.” The professional but pleasant voice of his assistant came over the line.

  “Hi, this is Courtney Bell from Business Development. May I speak to Mr. Forster please?”

  “And what is this in regards to?”

  Courtney silently swore. She hadn't thought what reason to give. Might as well stick with as close to the truth as she could. “I need to discuss an assignment he gave me yesterday.”

  “Mr. Forster's in a meeting right now. I'll have him call you back when he gets in.”

  Courtney hung up the phone feeling even more frustrated than before. As the minutes passed, her uneasiness grew. Why hadn't she told the assistant that the matter was urgent? She was dialing before she realized what she was doing, and then she was stammering her way through a lie about how this assignment could cost her her job. Which wasn't entirely untruthful when she thought about it.

  When she hung up this time, Courtney found herself feeling worse rather than better. She tried working, desperate to distract herself, but every sentence she read turned into something else.

  “I'd like to take you up on that offer to fuck your ass.”

  “Would you please strip and bend over the desk so I can spank you.”

  “Your completely inappropriate email shows that you have no place here at Asgard.”

  “You started it,” Courtney muttered, ignoring the glance the woman in the next cubicle gave her. “Stupid sexy abs.”

  “Uh, Courtney?” Ellen Richmond was a sweet, middle-aged mother of three and, despite their differences in age, was Courtney's closest friend at the office. “Is everything okay?”

  “Fine, Ellen,” Courtney tried to force her tone to be normal. Based on Ellen's expression, Courtney sounded as strained to her friend's ears as she did to her own. “How did Tyler do on his math test?”

  If there was one way to distract a mother, it was to ask about her kids. Courtney tried to pay attention, she really did. After all, she'd been there for Ellen through the past few months as the youngest of her boys struggled with the multiplication tables. But once Ellen started in on how Tyler's teacher wanted him to receive 'professional' tutoring, Courtney just couldn't keep her focus. Vance's words kept ringing in her ears.

  “Maybe all you need is some discipline.”

  That one sentence was all it had taken to flip that switch inside her, the one she never wanted to acknowledge. The one that liked the way Vance had sounded when he'd told her to stand. The part of her that longed for that relinquishment of control.

  “Courtney, what's going on?” Ellen's hand on Courtney's arm drew the younger woman back from her thoughts. “And don't say nothing. I know you too well for that.”

  Courtney considered telling Ellen the truth, then remembered that she could get fired for what she'd written and any mention of what Vance had done, what she'd allowed him to do, wouldn't end well for either of them. She settled for a half-truth. “I'm not feeling well.” There was no need to explain the reason behind the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. “Excuse me, Ellen. I have a project I need to check in with someone about.” Courtney turned back towards her desk and reached for the phone.

  By the time she placed her fourth call, her desperation to reach Vance was almost palpable. She hated herself for how she sounded when talking to his assistant, but her nerves were shot. Every time her phone rang, an email dinged on her computer, or footsteps came their way, her heart would stop for a second. Everything she read was from him. Every sound was his voice, his step. And when it wasn't, a mixture of disappointment and relief washed over her before it started all over again.

  “That's it,” Courtney announced. She hurriedly typed a note to Vance – to Mr. Forster, she amended. No more torturous waiting. She was going to decide for herself what would happen next.

  After sending it off, she pled out sick and headed home. She wanted some time to write up her resignation and didn't think she could handle the good-byes just yet. It wasn't until she closed the door behind her that the full realization of what she'd done hit her. All of the strength ran out of her legs, and she slumped to the ground. She clenched her hands together, twisting her fingers until they hurt, wanting only to still their trembling.

  What had she been thinking? Why hadn't she just waited for Vance to get out of his meeting? She was pretty sure he couldn't actually fire her since she could just turn around and accuse him of harassment. True, he had written evidence while she had nothing physical to support her story, but the publicity alone could ruin his career.

  Right. She just need to get things under control. Decide what she needed to do next. Once she had a plan, a course of action, everything would be all right. After all, wasn't that what she always did? Take care of herself?

  Courtney took a shuddering breath and then another, drawing the air into her lungs until it moved evenly. Only then did she stand. She could do this. Compared to what she'd already done on her own, this situation wasn't anything she couldn't handle.

  The thought took her back into the past, back through years of having to be the adult when she shouldn't have needed to be. She never felt sorry for herself. Too many kids had it so much worse. She'd never been abused or really neglected. There'd always been more than enough food in their house, clothes to wear. The only thing that hadn't been there was her parents. While they were out making their mark on the world, Courtney had been left with a series of housekeepers and nannies until age twelve when her parents decided she was old enough to stay on her own. Every decision was hers to make as were the consequences to bear. Courtney was no psychologist, but she understood herself well enough to know that this was the root of her authority issues. She hated other people making decisions for her, telling her what to do.

  And yet, she'd always had a fascination with the idea of someone taking away that control. Not in some domineering or misogynistic way but because he truly understood that this was what she needed and that she trusted him implicitly. When Vance had told her to stand, to take off her jacket, she'd been surprised at how quickly she'd complied, how good it had felt to not think, to just do. For once in her life, she hadn't spent hours analyzing, weighing the pros and cons of each option. She'd just obeyed. And the relief she'd felt had been indescribable. Not to mention the intensity of the orgasm she'd had from fantasizing about Vance taking things further.

  Courtney felt herself grow wet just thinking about it, desire blooming in her belly even as she tried to push the memory from her mind. She needed to focus on how she was going to regain control of the situation. She wasn't entirely sure how she was going to do that, only that she had to.

  ***

  “Hi.”

  The paper Courtney'd been holding – her careful plan outlining everything from her resignation to putting in applications at other agencies – slipped from her fingers as Vance spoke. “Hi,” her response was automatic.

  “Can I come in?”

  Courtney blinked. This uncertainty was nothing like the man she'd met yesterday. The man who'd ordered her to take off her jacket, the man whose touch had sent flames licking over her body at his every touch. “Of course.” She took a step back and, as he walked past, his scent washed over her. Rich spices that made her think of warmth and safety. Of home.

  He turned towards her as she shut the door. Her heart was in her throat, and she opened her mouth.

  “This is a really bad idea.” They spoke together, eyes locking on the last word.

  Courtney could almost hear the spark that went between them, almost see it. As a child, she'd imagined that, one day, a prince would come who'd sweep her off her feet and take her to his kingdom. She'd live in a castle and have servants, and her husband would take care of her forever. She hadn't been very old when that fantasy
had faded, but a part of it had always remained. The part that said she'd know the moment she met him, that they would have this instant connection. Now, as she stared into Vance's pale eyes, she couldn't help but remember telling one of her many nannies that her prince would be everything she'd ever wanted, and they'd recognize each other the moment their eyes met.

  The moment went on for an eternity, neither one speaking or moving, just existing. Vance broke it first, crossing the distance between them. Some of his confidence had returned, and it shone from his eyes as he bent his head. His lips slanted over hers, forcing her mouth open as he buried his fingers in her thick waves of hair. His tongue plundered her mouth, possessing it, owning it, and Courtney's body responded. She pressed herself against him, feeling him harden against her stomach. She locked her hands around his neck, raising herself on her tiptoes to deepen the kiss.

  Vance made a noise in the back of his throat and pushed her back against the door, his body covering hers. Heat raced along her nerves as his lips traveled along her jaw and down her neck. She didn't realize he'd taken her wrists in his hand until he was pulling them above her head, holding them against the door as his mouth nudged aside the collar of her shirt. His free hand worked between them, deftly undoing each button.

 

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