by Joanna Shupe
He hadn’t planned to seduce her today but couldn’t keep from touching her. It had been days since he’d seen her and he felt greedy for her. Inching forward, he invaded her space until the scent of lavender filled his head, and he reached to drag his knuckles along the soft skin of her jaw. “Because you, my lady, deserve to be the only woman who’s ever been inside the exchange.”
A tremor went through her body at his gentle touch but she did not pull away. “The way you say those two words, my lady. It’s quite seductive.” Her voice was thin, her breath coming noticeably faster.
“Good. Then you’ve not misinterpreted my intent.”
Her lips parted on a gasp. With the pad of his thumb, he traced the plump, smooth flesh surrounding her mouth. The need to kiss her tore through him, a powerful urge to taste her, to drink in every moan and whimper. There were a great many things he yearned for at the moment, but mostly he longed to drive her wild.
“You mean to seduce me,” she said, her lips brushing his thumb.
“Yes, I do—and you should know by now that I’m a man of action, not flowery words. I’d rather show you what I intend.”
“Here?” Her brows shot up. “You must be joking.”
“I am entirely serious. There are many ways to bring you pleasure, as you are undoubtedly aware.”
Her face showed no signs of recognition and he nearly frowned. Had she no idea of what brought about her pleasure? He’d been certain she was no longer innocent. Perhaps Robert hadn’t satisfied her, a prospect that both enraged him on her behalf and thrilled him down to his selfish bones.
The realization urged him on, past whatever scant reservations his common sense clung to. Seducing her was reckless and risky, a foolhardy plan that ended terribly any way he considered it. Yet, his palms moved to cradle her jaw. “Shall I kiss you?”
“I thought you were a man of action, not words,” she shot back, her eyes glittering, and he found himself smiling just before he rocked forward to seal his mouth to hers.
His fingers slid into her hair as he kissed her, hard. She met him eagerly, desperately, soon opening her mouth and finding his tongue with her own. At that first slick touch of her tongue to his, a growl erupted in his throat. His cock appreciated her boldness, his shaft filling, lengthening in his trousers.
The kiss grew frantic as it wore on, air in shorter and shorter supply. Her nails dug into his shoulders, hands nearly clawing at his coat to get closer. God, this woman. She unraveled him, took his noble intentions and shredded them. He could not wait to strip her bare and lay her down on a bed. Sink inside her slowly until he was buried to the hilt.
Panting, he broke off from her mouth and trailed his tongue down the column of her throat, nipping and kissing along the way. Her day dress covered her up to her collarbone and he’d never cursed an article of clothing more. Her breasts were somewhere underneath all those damn layers and he dreamed of dragging his tongue over her hard nipples, drawing the taut buds in his mouth . . .
His erection now impossibly uncomfortable, he slid out of his seat and dropped to his knees in front of her, wedging between her thighs. With one hand, he cupped the back of her neck and brought her toward him for another kiss. His other hand dove under the hem of her skirts until he found her stocking-covered calf. He learned the shape of her, mapped the sturdiness of her knee, and explored the firm, smooth planes of her inner thighs. Heat met his fingers as he parted her drawers, the back of his hand brushing the soft curls covering her mound.
She inhaled sharply as he stroked the outer lips of her sex with his thumb, teasing. “Julius,” she breathed against his mouth.
“Yes, my lady?” He dipped inside her entrance and slickness coated his thumb. She was so deliciously wet that his mouth actually watered.
Her chest heaved, gusts of air falling from her mouth. “Do not stop.”
Had sweeter words ever been spoken?
“I do not plan on it.”
He pressed his thumb against her clitoris and she jumped. “Shh,” he said, kissing her lips. “You’ll enjoy this, I promise.”
She crushed her mouth to his and he returned the kiss, using all the skill at his disposal to intensify her lust. Swept tiny circles over that swollen nub at the apex of her core. Deep, hungry licks in her mouth. His free hand cupped her breast through her clothing and undergarments. Soon, she was writhing, her hips canting, chasing the pleasure as he maintained a steady, maddening pace.
She threw her head back, eyes closed in surrender. “God, Julius . . .”
He could not wait any longer to taste her. Flicking her skirts to her waist, he sat back on his heels and pulled her hips forward in the chair. She was pink and glistening, so ripe, and lust raced through his blood, his cock throbbing for relief. Leaning in, he touched his tongue to her center, the sharp taste of her filling his mouth. His eyes nearly rolled back. Yes, dear God. This, right here.
“What are you doing?” Brows pinched, she stared at him in disbelief.
Oh, Robert. You fucking fool.
“Do you trust me?”
“Yes,” she rasped without hesitation.
“Then close your eyes and allow me to continue.” Without waiting, he dragged the flat of his tongue through her folds until he reached her clitoris. He circled, sucked, swirled the bud with his mouth and tongue, listening to the sounds she made to discover what she liked best. When he found the precise pressure and speed that caused her thighs to tremble, he kept at it, relishing the way her fingers threaded his hair to hold him in place. He slid a finger inside her, the walls so tight and hot. Then he added a second finger, pumping a few times with his hand, and her muscles clenched.
She cried out, the pleasure cresting, and her limbs shook. He could feel the pulses inside her body, the tissues clamping down on his fingers. His cock screamed for friction, for release, yet he resisted. He did not want to push her too far and his own orgasm could wait.
When she shivered, the flesh too sensitive, he pulled away, withdrawing his fingers and planting one last kiss on the inside of her thigh. He sat on his heels, hardly able to focus through the haze of lust clouding his brain, and tried to collect himself. His chest heaved as if he’d swum the length of the East River.
“That was astounding,” she said, her voice filled with awe. “You are either quite clever or very, very wicked.”
She was adorably rumpled, a flush tinting her creamy skin. He loved seeing her like this, his debauched English rose. “Can I not be both?”
“I suppose, though it hardly seems fair to all the other men in New York.”
“Good thing, then, that I never play fair.”
A knock sounded at the door, quickly obliterating any awkwardness following Julius’s ministrations. Nora shoved her skirts down over her legs as Julius rose off the floor and smoothed his trousers. “Don’t worry,” he said. “No one will see you, I promise. I’ll tell whoever is there to go away.”
She had no idea how he could appear so put together after doing . . . that, yet he did. The only outward clues to what had happened were the large and obvious erection in his clothing and his slightly tousled hair. Nora, on the other hand, felt unmoored. Unhinged. As if he had untethered her from everything she knew to be true.
For certain, she would never look at his mouth in the same manner again. Or his tongue. Who could have guessed such a thing possible?
Shame washed over her, a bone-deep embarrassment that scorched her skin. It had taken less than two days. A mere thirty-eight hours after casting Robert aside for her to lift her skirts for Julius. Heavens, she’d begged him not to stop. What in God’s name was wrong with her?
She bit her lip and tried to collect her rioting thoughts. Dwelling on her failings would not serve any purpose whatsoever. Why do you care what society thinks anyway? As Julius said, no one need learn what happened between them and the world considered them engaged. Soon enough she’d return to London and reassume her role as the doting, obedient daughter of an earl. D
idn’t she deserve a slice of happiness here in New York while she could manage it?
After one last check to ensure she was properly concealed, Julius spoke to the closed door. “Who is it?”
“Mr. Hatcher, it is Mr. Hutchinson. A word, if you please.”
“What is this about?” Julius asked, impatient.
“If you don’t mind, I’d prefer to converse face-to-face.”
“One minute.”
Returning to Nora’s side, he helped her to her feet. “Stand against the back wall,” he whispered in her ear. “I’ll speak with him in the corridor. He won’t be able to see you in here, so just stay quiet.”
She nodded and crept as carefully as her skirts would allow to the rear of the room. He paused until she was ready, then he cracked the door and slipped into the hallway. “Well, what is it?” she heard him say.
“I find myself in an awkward situation, Hatcher. We’ve received an anonymous note claiming you snuck a woman into your office here at the exchange.”
Nora froze, every cell on high alert. How had someone learned of her presence here? Would Hutchinson demand to search the office? Here’s that scandal you desired, Nora.
Only, she wasn’t certain she desired one any longer. If she revealed herself, there would undoubtedly be repercussions for Julius, perhaps even losing his seat on the exchange. The man lived and breathed for this place. How could she contribute to the loss of the one thing he loved?
Since when has Julius’s happiness come to mean more to you than returning to England?
It hadn’t, per se, but was there a reason to return to England? She had mucked up her relationship with Robert, who would certainly loathe her once he received her letter, and her father wasn’t missing her. He’d sent her away to find an American husband knowing full well that meant residing permanently in America. Not once had he written or cabled, either.
Then there was the little matter of her scandal, which was still quite the topic of discussion in London. Her friend said the latest rumor was that she’d gotten herself with child and her father had sent her away.
Well, half that story is true.
Hutchinson gave a dry, mirthless laugh, regaining her attention. “Now, I realize it seems silly but we do have to investigate these matters. You know the strict rules.”
“Are you seriously suggesting I brought a woman here to the exchange? Good God, man, for what purpose? No woman is interested in stock trading.”
“True, but as the president of the exchange I must be certain everyone is following the rules. You wouldn’t mind letting me see your office, would you?”
Nora held her breath as Julius snapped, “Damn right I mind. I pay over one hundred thousand dollars a year for that office and I’ll not be accused on some coward’s word. Let him come accuse me to my face. Tell me why he suspects I have a woman in here.”
“Be reasonable, Hatcher. It is well within our right to—”
“The hell it is.” Julius’s voice turned brittle and unforgiving. “I’ve already given you your answer. If you step one foot into my office, I’ll buy this entire building and have it razed to the ground.”
“You—you cannot threaten me,” Hutchinson stammered. “Or this institution.”
“Can’t I?” Menace filled those two words followed by an ominous silence. “Tell me, who holds the most influence on Wall Street?”
It took Hutchinson a moment to grind out, “You do, Mr. Hatcher.”
“That’s right, and one word from me can send panic through investors all across the city—hell, the nation—and you’ll see a crisis worse than the depression of ’73. Are you ready to lose everything? Because I swear that is what will come to pass unless you walk away and pretend you never doubted my word.”
“I apologize,” Hutchinson said, his tone much more conciliatory than confrontational. “We’ll consider the matter resolved, then.”
“Excellent.”
“Good afternoon.”
Julius bade him good-bye and then a few long seconds passed. Nora dared not move while she waited, blood rushing in her ears, her heart pounding wildly. Finally, he reentered the room, locked the door, and crossed to where she stood. “Did you hear any of that?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “What are we to do?”
“Trading closes in”—he glanced over his shoulder to the big clock on the wall—“fifteen minutes. We merely need to wait until the building clears out and we’ll leave.”
“How long will that be, exactly?”
“An hour. Maybe a bit more.” His piercing blue gaze searched her face. “Why did you not announce your presence somehow? Finally get the scandal you’ve been chasing?”
She shook her head, mute with thoughts too jumbled to explain. Guilt for being intimate with another man so soon after writing to Robert and confusion over these new feelings for a man she barely knew.
Stop, Nora. You know Julius. You know him better than almost anyone in New York.
It was true. She had no idea when it had happened, but there was something about him that had burrowed under her skin and into her heart. And she had changed as well. She was no longer a girl content to live in the shadows in London while following the rules. Now she was a woman who craved independence and excitement, who no longer needed her father’s approval or society’s permission to be happy.
“Did I shock you before?” he asked, his hand cupping her head behind her ear. “In the chair?”
“I think I shocked myself by allowing it.”
Creases lined his brow. “I don’t understand.”
“How can I be so inconstant, so fickle with my affections? How could I enjoy that as much as I did?”
“Ah. We’re back to Robert.” Julius sighed, his jaw tight and angry, and she instantly regretted bringing up the reminder of her former beau. “You’re not a tart, if that’s what you’re worried about. Believe me, I’ve met quite a few in the course of my life and none—not one—had a tenth of your grace or dignity. Your bravery or your heart. You allowed two men who care deeply for you to bring you pleasure. The end.”
He made it sound so simple. But one sentence tripped her up. Hope welled inside her chest like a balloon. “You care deeply for me?”
“Of course.” His grip tightened on her as he pulled her closer. “Would I risk my seat on the exchange for a woman I didn’t care about?”
“I thought this was an attempt to seduce me.”
“It is,” he said, flashing a grin. “But I’m beginning to think it is more as well. I know you have your Robert, but I cannot stop thinking about you.”
The words surprised her, quickly followed by a rush of elation that reached her toes. He cannot stop thinking about me. He cares about me. On a day filled with sadness, the revelation buoyed her. It was on the tip of her tongue to admit that she’d broken off with Robert . . . but she withheld it. The wound was too raw, too fresh, and Julius would want to pick apart the decision like one of his stock predictions. Nora was not ready to have to explain herself.
And it wasn’t as if Julius wanted more. He’d said many times over that he didn’t wish for a commitment—and she would eventually return to England. Whatever this was between them would remain temporary.
He was watching her expectantly, waiting for her to answer. He’d been honest, after all, and she owed him some semblance of the same. “Yes, whatever this is, I feel it, too.”
Chapter Fifteen
Julius felt his mouth hitch. “Is that so?” His fingers slid along her jaw and then lower, over her throat, her breastbone, and then between her lovely and promising breasts. She drew in a sharp breath.
“You are the devil, Julius Hatcher.”
“I prefer persistent.” Sounded much better than desperate, although that was a more apt description at the moment.
“Try as you like, then, but I’m not certain this is wise.”
“If it helps, what happens is between only you and me. No one need learn how our engagement includ
es other benefits.”
“Benefits?”
“What would you call them, then? Because I consider bedding you a definite benefit.”
Even in the near darkness he could see her lips twitch with amusement. “I’ve agreed to nothing as of yet.”
“You will. I’d say there is an 85 percent chance of you coming home with me tonight.”
“You’re insane. We are scheduled to attend a dinner party at the McPhees’ tonight.”
He coughed into his hand a few times, then reached for her, smashing her chest flat with his. “I fear a nasty cold has overcome me. There’s every chance you are infected as well.”
She rolled her eyes as a wide grin tugged at her mouth. “And I suppose I’m to sneak over to your home after my aunt and uncle depart for said dinner party?”
“You cannot pretend this is your first—or tenth—assignation under a guardian’s nose. I would assume you already knew how best to proceed.”
“The point is not whether I am able to come to you, but whether I should.” She took a few steps away, putting distance between them. He folded his arms over his chest and tried not to reach for her again.
“And here I thought you were a woman who did as she pleased, not what was expected of her.”
“That is true, within reason. I am not exactly reckless—” He made a face, and she grimaced. “Fair enough. I have been reckless recently, but I was a bit more circumspect in London when breaking the rules.”
“I am offended, my lady. Circumspect happens to be my middle name.”
“Please. You don’t know the meaning of the word. You live life grandly on every level—your home, your work, your parties, your affairs . . .”
He wasn’t even certain what they were arguing about any longer. Was she not attracted to him? He thought he’d read the cues correctly, like when she’d ordered him not to stop while he’d been pleasuring her. Perhaps today had been an aberration, a brief hedonistic moment where they’d both been caught up in the pleasure and not thinking clearly.
“Nora, I am perfectly capable of keeping quiet about my private life.”