Bound to You--A Hot Billionaire Workplace Romance

by JC Harroway

‘Now you’re just making this competition thing way too exciting, Dove. My mind is working overtime...’ His fingers slide over my stomach and down, down, down until he grazes my mound. ‘Are you wet? Did you get yourself all worked up concocting this plan, walking in here wearing nothing underneath this coat but this tiny excuse for underwear?’

  He slides his fingers along the soaked crotch of my panties and my head drops back as I release a groan. ‘Yes... Yes, I did.’

  ‘I can see that.’ He strokes my strip of hair and swipes my clit. ‘Where the fuck did you get this outfit?’

  ‘Like it, do you?’ I pant as he strokes my lips through the underwear, his touch increasingly demanding.

  He emits a low growl. ‘That’s an understatement.’

  ‘I bought it thinking of you. This city really is open day and night. I found a store that delivers within the hour.’ I thrust my hips in his direction and tug his mouth back to mine. While I enjoy his kisses, my hands are free to roam under his T-shirt. His skin is warm and smooth, the muscular slabs a sure-fire sign that he spends a lot of time in that home gym I found.

  I release the remaining buttons of his fly and then remove the two items I have stashed in the coat pocket—a condom and the vibrator. I shove them at him and tug at his shirt. ‘Hurry... The clock is ticking.’ As much as I want to kiss every inch of him, the work day will soon begin with the arrival of his staff, and we’ll miss our opportunity.

  His eyes widen at the sight of the vibrator which we never got round to using last night. He places it on the desk and shifts his hips so I can yank his jeans and boxers down. I free his erection and cover him, and then he springs into action.

  In one brisk move he stands and deposits me on the desk in front of him. I shrug off the coat and toss it to the floor as he removes his T-shirt and shoves his jeans down. His cock juts out from between his strong thighs, his abs contracting.

  My mouth waters. ‘You are the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. I want to suck you.’ I’m addicted to his salty taste. To the guttural roar he makes as he comes in my mouth. To the helpless vulnerability in his eyes for a few seconds afterwards.

  ‘I was just thinking the same thing.’

  He pulls down the cup of my bra, exposing one breast before covering the nipple with his mouth. I cry out at his mind-blowing ministrations, releasing the mewling sounds I can’t contain.

  I lean back on my hands, uncaring of his open laptop behind me or the pile of documents that crinkle under my butt. The sight of this urbane, zealous businessman losing control and splaying me over the desk from which he runs our multi-billion-dollar company makes me pulse with need.

  His fingers slide the crotch of my underwear aside and then push inside me, plunging in time with his suckling on my nipple.

  He abandons my breast to look down at the sight of his pumping fingers. I widen my thighs and gasp as he scissors the two inside me wider and rubs at my clit with his thumb.

  With his free hand he picks up the vibrator. ‘Turn it on.’

  I obey and then watch with mounting desperation as he brings the buzzing tip to my exposed, wet nipple. The first touch makes me gasp, the sensation so confronting I want to move away. But before I can he shifts the toy to the other side and pinpoints the other nipple through the mesh of my bra.

  ‘You’re right, Dove. This was a genius idea.’ He slides his mouth over mine, catching my moans, his eyes wide open to watch my every reaction to his torture.

  ‘Hudson... I need you inside me.’

  He turns off the vibrator and tosses it to the floor. Then he grips my arse cheeks and shunts me to the edge of his desk. I cling to his shoulders as he grips his cock and notches it at my entrance, sinking onto me with a ragged sigh as if he’s waited far too long.

  The feeling echoes in me.

  His face contorts with pleasure, his eyes ablaze with lust and vulnerability. ‘What are you doing to me...?’ He grips my hips, his fingers digging into my flesh, and then he thrusts long and deep and hard.

  ‘Only what you’re doing to me,’ I say, resting back on my hands. I lock my arms, desperate to counter the onslaught of his hips, both for maximum friction and because of the same bloody-minded competitive streak that shapes our every interaction.

  Because I know he likes my hair—I caught him sniffing it last night in bed—I loosen my messy bun and shake free the long waves until they’re splayed over my shoulders. His eyes flash fire at the sight.

  Greedy for more, I wrap my thighs around his hips, crossing my ankles in the small of his back. I’m burning up and only he can quench the flames.

  Beads of sweat break out at his hairline. His eyes lock with mine, sending jolts of pleasure through me, and something else. A deeper connection than was there last night. Now it’s more defined, its edges sharper and brighter. Does he feel it too? Perhaps he does, because he momentarily scrunches his eyes shut, as if overwhelmed.

  I cup his face and press my mouth to his as my orgasm starts. I’m his in that moment—any seduction plan or life plan smashed and tattered by the force of my feelings. I cry out against his lips. Triumph washes over me, strengthening the final spasms of my climax as he opens his eyes once more, roars my name and shudders against me in release.

  We stay locked together for what seems like an age. Hudson’s head grows heavy on my shoulder. My butt aches against the hard desk. But I don’t want to move in case something seismic happens. The moment, the silence, feels that portentous.

  Eventually he shifts, and when he lifts his head he’s composed, back in control, and my stomach plummets.

  ‘Well, that was a great way to start the working day.’ He kisses me, pulls out, and then removes the condom, wrapping it in a tissue from the box on his debauched desk. Then he glances at the locked door, tension around his eyes.

  Feeling dismissed, I right my underwear and bra, goosebumps breaking out over my skin.

  ‘Any time,’ I say with a smile that feels rictus-like. Because that’s a lie. It can’t be any time. His reminder of where we are and that his employees will soon arrive robs every shred of good feeling from my body. He’s reinstating the boundaries. And he’s right. But for a moment there I felt an emotional closeness I know he reciprocated. Something more than sex.

  Trust. Communication. Togetherness.

  Yet I’m dismissed.

  ‘Mind if I jump in your shower? I brought a change of clothes.’ My voice sounds normal but I can’t wait to cover up, as he’s doing, shrugging into his T-shirt and buttoning his fly.

  I won’t hide, though. No matter how vulnerable it makes me. I brazen it out, standing tall in my sexy outfit and heels, as if to say, look what you could have every day, if only you were interested.

  But that’s only half the truth. I want more than great sex, and we both know it, presumably the reason he’s struggling to look me in the eye as he straightens the papers on his desk.

  ‘Of course. Take as long as you like. I was going to suggest we split up today. I’m happy to handle the meeting with the lawyers if you want to catch up with Sterling and get him up to speed on Kunosu Tech.’

  I scoop some fallen documents from the floor and place them carefully on the desk, my stomach tight with the pain of rejection.

  ‘That sounds like a plan.’

  ‘If I’m not back in time,’ he says, ‘I’ll send Takao to take you shopping for tonight.’

  We’re attending the Tokyo Business Awards dinner, at which he’s been invited to give the after-dinner speech.

  I don my trench coat, which now feels about as sexy as a bin liner, and retrieve my bag from near the door. When I turn and head for the bathroom, he’s back to his usual self, apart from having hair mussed from my fingers and a cagey expression.

  ‘I’ll catch you later, then.’ I present my cheek for his kiss, as I have a thousand times before over the years, only
this time his perfunctory peck leaves me frozen to the core.

  ‘Give my best to Sterling.’ His eyes are devoid of warmth, even though he’s pasted on a smile. But it’s the reminder I needed.

  This is meaningless sex. In three days, we’ll all be together. Neither of us wants to hurt Sterling. There’s no sense in confessing a casual fling. Hudson and I will need to try way harder than we’re currently achieving in order to pretend that nothing has changed between us.

  Right now, we’re fooling no one, least of all ourselves.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Hudson

  THE TOKYO CITY view on the fifty-second floor of Mori Tower showcases Tokyo at night to its best advantage—a sea of colourful lights laid out like a carpet of stars, with the glowing Tokyo Tower in the foreground. The Business Awards dinner is in full swing. Our delicious main course has been cleared away and the dancing has begun before speeches and dessert.

  I wish I could leave and drag Monroe with me.

  ‘Mr Oshima lives near Mount Fuji,’ I say, introducing her to a long-time business associate who runs a manufacturing company here in Tokyo. ‘His home is beautiful, and he has three charming little girls who cheat at paper, scissors, rock.’

  Monroe laughs with delight and engages Mr Oshima in a three-way conversation with the interpreter I hired to make her feel comfortable tonight. My mind drifts once more to this morning, when she’d stormed into my office looking like a goddess of temptation. I’ve spent the whole day reeling. And fuming at the way I shut down after, effectively dismissing her.

  I paste on a bland smile, pretending to partake in the conversation, but inside I’m cursing my stupidity. I should never have taken her home. Waking up with her in my bed, her scent on my pillow and her clothes on my chair... It all but knocked me on my arse. This is what it would feel like to have someone permanent in my life. Her toothbrush next to mine, her brand of tea in my cupboard and a million other ways of sharing a life. Even opening up about Blackhearts seemed to shift something in me—a new closeness I wasn’t expecting.

  For the first time ever, what if? crept past my guard.

  I fled to work before dawn to escape the crush of possibility. Only she’s everywhere I look—my office, my car, my home. I struggled to breathe this morning after her trench coat stunt, not because I’d come harder than a baseball bat to the back of the head, but because I never wanted to move. She gripped my face and stared into my eyes and seemed to give me more of herself than I’d ever ask for. Violent urges to close the office and ignore work for the rest of the day overtook me. I wanted to take Monroe back home and lock out the rest of the world. Cancel our flight to London and slake this need over and over again until I was back to normal.

  But what if normal has gone for ever? What if I can never stop craving her?

  Watching her smile as she asks Mr Oshima about his family, I’m compelled to make amends for my dismissive behaviour. I ache to touch her. Hold her. I wake in the night hard for her. I reach for her in my sleep. I look for her around the office. She’s in my blood and I’m so fucked.

  The conversation comes to a natural end, and Mr Oshima bids us goodnight and moves away. I speak to the translator, suggesting she take a break.

  ‘Dance with me,’ I say to Monroe.

  ‘I’d love to.’ She looks up at me with trust and acceptance I don’t deserve. It makes me more restless.

  We move to the dance floor, my hand unapologetically on the small of her back, because I can’t not touch her. She’s wearing a full-length black dress that hugs her beautiful body like a second skin. I tug her into my arms, holding her at an appropriate distance for a business colleague, even though I want to crush her close until my heart stops its wild, erratic thudding.

  Monroe is more than a colleague. She always has been. But what the hell does that mean for the future us? I’ll have to stop thinking about her, stop touching her, stop wanting her.

  ‘I’m sorry if I was...abrupt this morning in the office.’ I grip her tighter, needing her body against mine to stop the riot of frustration inside. ‘To be honest, you took me by complete surprise with the whole trench coat thing.’

  My cock stirs in my trousers just thinking about the vision of her splayed on my desk. ‘I won’t ever forget that sexy little stunt, Dove.’

  In fact, I’ll never be able to work again without remembering. My fingers flex between her shoulder blades, itching to touch her bare skin.

  Her eyes spark playfully. ‘Me neither. It was fun payback.’

  She’s saying all the right things to reassure me that we’re still on track. That there’s no risk of feelings creeping into this casual fling. But if anything that makes me more unsettled. It makes no sense.

  ‘Are you nervous?’ she asks. ‘About your speech?’

  I shake my head. ‘No. I’m not thinking about that at all. I’m actually wondering if you’re wearing underwear under this dress.’ It’s easier to admit the constant desire than risk showing too much of the panicked, confused mess inside me. Monroe has her mother’s knack of seeing beneath my layers.

  A small crafty smile touches her full lips. She slides her hand slowly from my shoulder to rest over my breast pocket. Over my thudding heart.

  ‘Now, what makes you think I’d be commando under here?’ Her eyelashes bat and she swipes the tip of her tongue over her top lip so my hard-on presses against her stomach. Shit, I’m due onstage in fifteen minutes.

  I glance at her hand, at her fingers gliding back and forth over my silk handkerchief in my tux pocket. That’s when I notice the handkerchief isn’t its usual white colour. It’s silvery grey. I catch sight of some lace in the depths of the pocket.

  When I look up, she’s all mock-innocence. It’s sexy as hell.

  ‘What is it?’ she asks, her voice breathy.

  ‘Did you stuff your underwear in my pocket?’ I grow harder. We’ll never make it off this dance floor. I’ll have to fake a medical emergency to avoid my speech. Then I remember that I came here straight from the office. They gave me a room in which to change. I can exact revenge...

  ‘Now, why would I do that when you’ll be standing on the stage in front of Tokyo’s business elite? Do you think I want you to be thinking about me or something...?’ She leans closer. ‘It’s not as if I’ll be wet watching you, waiting for you to finish and take me home...’

  I groan in my head and grip her tighter. ‘Oh, well played, Dove. Trouble is... I’m going to make you pay, sooner than you think.’

  ‘Just like I made you pay for the phallic package I opened in the conference room?’

  I nod. ‘Just like that.’

  ‘I can’t wait.’ She stares up at me, her beautiful smile tugging at something in my chest. Every beat of my heart demands I say something more meaningful than sex talk and innuendo. But what is there to say? I can’t promise her anything more than this. She’s seen every corner of my life now. She knows about my past. Bold is my future. With me, this is as good as it gets.

  I change the subject, wishing I could change my thoughts as easily.

  ‘I arranged for a tea ceremony at the Sensō-ji Temple tomorrow.’

  ‘Thank you. That’s a lovely thing to do on my last day in Japan.’

  ‘But it won’t be your last visit. You’ll be back next year.’ Tension seizes my muscles. How will we manage seeing each other in person but no longer being lovers? Will the desire fade even remotely?

  I wish...

  ‘Besides, you may love Japan, but you’d never consider living anywhere but London.’ What prompted me to say that? Why am I fishing? Of course she’d never live away from her close-knit family.

  She presses her lips together, her eyes darting sheepishly as if she’s thinking the same thing. When she looks back up, she’s grown pensive.

  ‘Sterling once asked me to move to New York, before we met y
ou. Before we married. Just for a few years. I wouldn’t even consider it back then.’

  ‘You didn’t want to move so far from your relatives.’ My voice is flat with assertion. She wouldn’t even move for the man she loved.

  ‘No. And I’m glad I didn’t.’ She looks up, imploring me to understand. ‘I couldn’t have known, but my mother didn’t really have that long to live. I’d have never forgiven myself if I hadn’t been there.’

  ‘Of course.’ I nod, a strange weight settling in my gut. Why does it matter to me that she’d never live anywhere but London?

  I scramble for another change of subject.

  ‘I wondered if you’d like to visit Blackhearts on the way home from the Sensō-ji Temple tomorrow. There’s a teen disco happening.’ My voice feels alien, my heartbeat throbbing in my ears. Until just now I hadn’t even decided if I planned to attend myself.

  ‘I’d love to.’ She looks up at me with that intuition and perceptiveness that makes me feel exposed. ‘I never realised how important they are to you...’

  I try not to stiffen, my hairs rising with discomfort. ‘Why would you?’

  ‘Because we’re...friends.’ Her expression says isn’t it obvious? ‘Friends are supposed to know each other well. Be there for the other person unconditionally.’ She looks away and, when her eyes return to mine, they’re ablaze with emotion. ‘I’m sorry if there were times that I wasn’t there for you. I meant to be. You’ve always supported me.’

  I presume she’s talking about the divorce, or perhaps the flowers I send every year for Cathy. I frown, a trapped feeling settling in my gut. How have we arrived here when only minutes ago we were discussing her underwear in my pocket? This shit doesn’t come up when you’re an emotional island. Yet, as alien as it is for me to open up, I’ve also enjoyed getting to know Monroe better, one on one.

  ‘You haven’t let me down, Dove. I’ve just never needed you in the same way.’

  Her tiny gasp makes me feel as if I’ve struck her. I rush to qualify. ‘I don’t mean it as an insult. I just haven’t got any family like you do.’