Sloan took his time with the second sandal, caressing the underside of her foot and eliciting another moan. Her feet seemed to be directly wired into her pussy, so he might as well have been touching her intimately.
When he looked up at her, she realised he knew exactly what he was doing, the effect it was having on her.
“Sit down, Diana,” he ordered gruffly.
Bemused, Diana sat down, smoothing her short blue skirt so she didn’t flash him.
Sloan was within kissing distance as she passed him the paperwork she’d brought over. She scolded herself for noticing, but her feet—and other parts—were still tingling from the unexpected foot massage.
He reached into a pocket in his shorts and pulled out a pair of glasses, slipping them on. They were a dramatic contrast to his tangled hair and hard, glistening body. He looked up through the lenses, his eyes sober now, back to business.
“I want to put the lobby there, by the door, along with a console for handling payments from clients,” he said, gesturing towards the front of the empty studio.
“That shouldn’t be a problem,” Diana said. “You’ve done a lot of amazing renovations already.”
“Motivation is not a problem for me when I see what I want.” He looked up at Diana. “Are you the same, Diana?”
She’d been chewing on her pen, something she’d broken the habit of doing as a college student. “I am definitely motivated to see this strip mall do the best it can,” she said.
“I think everything here is in order, but I’ll want some time to look it over before I send it back to you.” Sloan put the paperwork aside and removed his glasses.
“Of course,” Diana agreed. She looked at her bare feet and her shoes, feeling awkward. The charged interlude was over and she had to put her shoes back on and retreat.
“Now that that’s done with…” Sloan’s voice was gravely. “You liked it when I touched you.”
Shocked again by Sloan’s confidence, Diana could only stare at him.
“It wasn’t an accident, where I touched you,” Sloan went on. “I used to give reflexology massage. I knew how to arouse you.”
She shook her head. “I don’t understand.”
“Yes, you do. Take a moment, just breathe…”
Now he reached out and stroked her arm as if he felt the sudden spike of her anxiety. But this couldn’t be happening. She’d seen him, she’d wanted him, but he was a fantasy. This couldn’t be happening…
“Breathe…”
He was closer, sharing her breath. She couldn’t stop studying his face, those slightly exotic, earnest eyes, holding her captive.
He cupped her cheek. “You made quite an impression on me.”
She laughed when she remembered seeing his poster and the look of bliss on his face—she’d pictured him making love. Oh, yeah, he’d also made an impression on her.
“I should go.”
“Don’t.”
“This isn’t me.”
“I think it’s very much you. Ground zero.”
He lifted her onto his lap, both her legs on either side of him, her body flush against his so she could feel the blunt shape of his erection through his tissue-thin shorts. Panting, she began to tremble. His hand felt hot on the silk of her skirt as he placed it on her ass.
“Easy,” he said, still with that assured manner. This was crazy. Why was she allowing him to do these things? She was always so guarded with men, peeking at them from behind her walls. “I can get you off, get you off like you’ve never had it before.”
“Uh.”
He moved his hands from her ass and up to her breasts. When he cupped her, her eyes fell closed and she sagged against him. She could count her heartbeat in the lips of her sex.
“But you have to do something first, Diana,” Sloan went on in that same hoarse, silky voice.
She blinked and then frowned. “What?”
“Ask me to please you,” he said.
“I…”
How could she? She’d just met the man. Now she was sitting on him and he was touching her.
He moved one hand down her body and under her skirt, lifting it as he held her gaze. He brushed his fingers against her underwear, found her damp, hot for him, a stranger.
“Sloan, I never do this—”
She caught his wrist, though the feel of that broad palm cupping her had her on edge.
“I know,” he said. “You mentioned you aren’t into aggression.” He cocked a brow. “Are you going to let me touch you?”
She swallowed, beyond saying yes. Giving him verbal permission would make this all too real, but when he began to drag his hand away from her, she caught it again, held it to her.
She licked her lips, wishing, and a second later she got her wish.
He kissed her, his lips covering hers, male, strong, taking deeply, so she moaned as he stroked her tongue delicately. He was so very controlled, like no one she’d ever met before, completely commanding her. When he squeezed her sex gently, she gasped again, shaking in his arms.
“You need to come, don’t you?” he asked in a mild tone.
Diana’s fingernails dug into Sloan’s arms and he laughed, pulling away to stare into her eyes. “I told you I can get you off, beautiful Diana, but only on my terms.”
“You’re too young for me. This isn’t real.”
“Isn’t it?” His hair fell over one brow as he leaned close, nuzzling her.
She shivered hotly. Her body ground on his teasing hand.
“What…what are your terms?” Diana asked.
“Good girl,” he praised her. “I’m going to give you what you need. You’ll scream when you come for me.”
Chapter Two
Diana stared at Sloan’s pale hand against the cinnamon skin of her upper thigh. He was pushing up her short skirt.
“Stop.”
“Why?” He raised his brows. “You’re trembling, you’re so close.”
She licked her lips, unable to deny it. “Yes.”
“Honesty is hot.” He squeezed her thigh. “No one can see you from the windows. They can’t even see me kneeling here in the back.”
She dropped her hand, knowing she should leave. But she felt rooted, as if she’d fallen into another world, a forbidden world where Sloan could give her what she craved.
“I’m going to lift your skirt. Sit up.” he asked her calmly.
She blinked and then did as he demanded, groaning as he palmed her ass, squeezing the globes and making the throbbing in her body intensify.
“You’re sensitive and honest.” His lips grazed hers. “So rare. You have no idea how rare that is. I knew when I looked into your eyes that you’d be like this. I know I should have waited, bided my time like a good boy but…” A smile tilted one corner of his mouth. “I am not a good boy.”
“No kidding,” she rasped.
“I’m going to take your panties off. All right?”
Her heart jumped and she stared into his eyes.
“Don’t you want me to touch you?”
“I…yes.”
“More of that honesty.”
He moved his hands up to her hips and peeled silk down, freeing her. Cool air touched her hot, damp body. She looked at his bent head and then down at her own body and saw how fully she was exposed to him.
“A woman is like a flower, like an open lotus.” He looked up at her. “Spread yourself for me. Spread yourself open.”
She gasped again, completely taken aback by his request. Never had a lover been so brash, never had a man wanted to see her this way, so completely.
Her fingers trembled as she did as he asked and she closed her eyes, her cheeks heating with embarrassment. She could smell herself, musky with painful arousal.
“I could look at you all day,” Sloan said after what seemed like a thousand years. “You have a mole on your inner thigh.”
“I know,” she whispered.
“I’m going to touch you now.”
Sh
e swallowed, opening her eyes, wanting to see it even though part of her wanted to hide from him.
She jumped when he touched her, a gentle graze of his finger over her slick softness. “I can’t believe I’m letting you do this.”
“This is my fantasy,” Sloan said. “No waiting, no bullshit, just touching you.”
He followed the lines of her body like swirls in a nautilus shell but then found her, where she lived, and she trembled at the first electric touch. He tapped the back of his fingers against her and it was shocking. No man had ever—
She saw herself in the dusty mirror across the room, wilting around Sloan, shivering hotly as he stroked her, her hands holding herself open for him in a direct and silent plea for his attentions.
“How long has it been since a man made you come?” he asked her absently.
“I…don’t remember.” She dropped her gaze.
“Did the last man you dated make you come?”
He was circling where she needed him most, teasing her. When she pushed against him he stopped and then struck her with his odd little uneven taps against her sex.
“No, he didn’t make me come.” Her voice was soft, like his. In the shadows, she could say these things to him, her perfect, domineering stranger.
“Tell me what you did with him.” His voice had a strange thread in it, almost possessive.
“I…” She was panting. Somehow she knew if she didn’t answer him, he’d stop and she needed his fingers on her. She needed to come, oh God. “He took me to the opera.”
“Are you the sort of woman who appreciates that?”
“It’s all right. I’d rather stay home and watch an action DVD,” she admitted.
“Ummm.” His gaze ran over her, hot, dark. “I can’t wait to see your breasts. I can see your nipples through your shirt. Next time I’ll have you lift your top so I can see your tits while I play with you.”
“N-next time?” Shaken, she almost pulled away, but the lash of his fingers kept her rooted.
He studied her, seeming cool and unmoved, his massive erection pushing against his shorts and the sweat beading his forehead. “You’ll come here again, if you’ll forgive the pun.”
She shook her head. No way. She shouldn’t even be doing this now. He was her tenant. He wasn’t someone she would never see again and could shove safely away into the darkest corner of her heart.
“Look what you’re letting me do,” he murmured, his fingers playing her faster, so now it was hard to catch her breath. She could hear herself, moaning, gasping, her body shaking against his while he was her rock, giving her what she needed, watching her.
She closed her eyes.
“Uh uh.” He stopped.
“No!” She gripped his wrist.
“Be aware of what you’re doing,” he said. “Be aware it’s me. This isn’t a fantasy anymore, it’s happening. You’ve given me your pussy.”
He wouldn’t allow her to hide.
“Say my name.”
“Sloan.” She held his gaze.
“Am I too young for you?”
“Yes, but…not here.” Here was this other world, this place where she’d fallen out of her everyday reality.
His eyes narrowed but his face remained otherwise impassive. She could feel the warrior in him, matching himself to her.
“Is there anything you want to say?”
“Please…” She swallowed. “I need you.”
One finger returned, circling her, and she reached down and pulled herself open, beyond caring that she was exposing herself to him. She could feel his touch more completely this way. She realised that’s part of why he’d demanded she do it.
“Wild curls.” He touched the hair above her sex. “Wild like you are.”
And she was. She was riding his hand now, rocking back and forth because he allowed it, cupping her, squeezing her. He had all of her literally in the palm of his hand. He didn’t touch her clit, but gave her indirect stimulation which somehow made her hotter. She arched, head falling back as she surrendered herself.
He pinched her clit.
It was like a slap to her system, bringing her to life. She would have fallen off him, but he grabbed her, holding her close as her body clenched down on itself, coming, contracting, long pulls of exquisite pleasure. He wasn’t even touching her now, so her sex ground on itself.
She twisted, lifting one leg, and clenching her body set her off again, coming so long, so hard—
She was lying on the cool finished wood, her skirt still hiked up, her legs fallen open, wanton.
Sloan murmured gently and offered her a water bottle. Diana gulped down the fluid.
“Slowly.” He took it away, watching her sharply before putting the bottle to her lips again.
She drank, the cool liquid feeling like an elixir that was taking her back to her real life.
When she was done, he put it aside and she blinked as she heard the tinkle of water. A second later, she felt a warm washcloth touch her throbbing, satisfied sex.
She would have thrust his hand away if she’d had more energy but she felt strangely grounded. Besides, he’d seen her, touched her, made her come.
The washcloth felt unbelievably good, both reassuring and sensual as it rasped on her sensitive body. She grabbed his wrist and held his hand steady against her clit and he waited, watching her while aftershocks of pleasure worked through her system.
She needed him as much now as she had before he’d let her come.
When he took away the towel, he replaced it with a fresh one, patting her thighs and body dry, then as she watched, dazed, he put her panties back on her, drawing them up her limp legs and covering her again.
He smoothed down her skirt and pulled her into his arms, his front to her back, holding her, smoothing his hands down her arms, warm where she was slightly chilly.
She would have felt horribly embarrassed, but somehow this made it all right. If he’d left her, she probably would have fled, the encounter festering, but instead she felt oddly cherished.
He kissed the side of her face, and his cock, long and hard, pressed into her back, but he made no effort to relieve his excitement in some way. His control was absolute.
Her fingers clenched on his arms for a moment before she pushed herself away from him.
“All right?” he asked softly.
She nodded, unable to speak.
He put her shoes back on, taking his time so she felt less spacey as she watched him carefully buckling them.
“I called Nathan when I got the water,” he said. “He’s going to walk you back to your office.”
She opened her mouth to argue, but he shook his head.
“You need someone to look after you a little longer, but somehow I don’t think you want me around you right now.”
He was right. She didn’t meet his eyes as he helped her carefully to her feet. She didn’t wobble. Her body felt fantastic, singing when she crossed the hardwood floor, shoes ringing confidently.
She glanced once over her shoulder at Sloan, at his hair curling on his forehead, his dark eyes, almost sombre as he watched her leave him, at his smooth, muscled body before he turned away and began striking a heavy bag. She swallowed around the sudden tightness in her throat.
* * * *
Nathan was slouching at the corner of Sloan’s storefront. He didn’t speak but walked beside Diana as she headed past the three shops to the door that led to the stairway up to her office.
She took in a breath, wondering what on earth to say to him since he must wonder why Sloan had asked him to escort her such a short distance, but he was already gone, retreating and leaving her the privacy she desperately craved.
Diana headed up the stairs. She went to her desk, seeing the single orchid bloom she’d bought that morning at the supermarket, seeing the neat piles of work she’d left to tackle the rest of the day.
She sat down, the chair creaking in a familiar way.
Her phone buzzed and she answe
red it.
“Are you all right?”
“Yes.” She felt wonderful.
“Not depressed?”
She frowned. “No.”
“Good. See you tomorrow.”
No, she couldn’t see him again. What would he do to her if she went back? God!
“Yes,” she said calmly before cutting the call and putting down her phone.
She picked up her pashmina and wrapped it around herself. Shouldn’t she be brooding? He was younger than she was, so different, muscled, untamed, commanding. And what he’d done with her…
But instead of feeling shitty, she squeezed her thighs together, experiencing a renewal of sensation, as if he were touching her again.
She closed her eyes, a thready sound of want escaping as she settled back in her chair.
She wanted to touch herself again. She wanted to remove her panties and spread her legs and relive the experience, here at her desk. Hot tingles moved through her, tightening her lower back.
It wasn’t shame that stopped her, even though she thought she should somehow feel it—but she did not. Nothing she’d done with Sloan had felt shameful, but instead utterly natural.
What stopped her was the tantalising thought that, if she held back until he had her under his control again tomorrow, how much harder would she come for him?
Chapter Three
“Do you think you can leave the city construction long enough for dinner?” Diana asked her ward hours later.
Jeff only gave her a distracted look and she sighed.
Her glow had faded as the day had gone on, the wild experience overlaid by pedestrian events so that, now, she couldn’t believe it had ever happened, that she’d let Sloan, a stranger, look at her, touch her, please her…
And maybe that was for the best.
Would she really visit him again tomorrow?
She pushed back her hair, pulling it into a ponytail as Jeff left his bedroom and computer game with obvious reluctance to join her in the small dining alcove.
“How was school?” She put a platter of fresh-cut vegetables and dip on the table before spooning out macaroni and cheese and tuna, one of her mother’s old standbys.
Subspace Page 14