by Witt, L. A.
Except this was a steady gig for both of us. This wasn’t a film that would be over soon, something we just had to ride out for a few more weeks or months. Wolf’s Landing was in for the long haul, which meant we were probably working together for the foreseeable future.
I’d deal with it when she got here. In the meantime, work to do. The showrunner was on my ass to finish some camera blocking for an episode we were filming in a few weeks, and Finn . . . well, Finn was always on my ass about something.
A sharp knock at the door brought a string of curses to my lips. Now what? Fuck. No rest for the weary in this business.
I turned the page in the script I was reading. “Come in.”
The door opened, and the script nearly tumbled out of my hands as I sat up.
“Oh. Hey, Natalya.” I cleared my throat. “I, um . . . wasn’t . . .”
She glanced at Jeremy, then turned to me as she pulled off her thick work gloves. “You asked me to come see you.”
“Right. Right, I . . . I did.”
Jeremy rose. “I’ll, um, be outside.”
“Thanks,” I murmured.
As she tucked her work gloves into her belt, he slipped past her and pulled the door shut behind him.
Once we were alone, Natalya said, “All right. I’m here.”
Yes, you are. You . . . you are indeed here. And there was a reason for that.
I came around the desk, and as I did, I allowed myself a quick down-up, drinking in the sight of her through eyes that now knew what she looked like naked, out of breath, trembling . . .
She cleared her throat. When I jumped, she cocked her head. “You wanted to talk?”
“Yeah, I . . .”
She took a step closer, and my train of thought vanished.
Wasn’t I supposed to say something about last night being an isolated incident? And how we needed to keep things professional and . . . and . . .
The grin playing at her lips drew my attention to them, and whatever I’d wanted to discuss was replaced by memories of all the things those lips could do.
She cocked her head. “What did you want to talk about?”
“Honestly?” I gulped. “I . . . can’t remember.”
“We don’t have to talk.” The grin came completely to life, and her eyes narrowed just right to remove words like “professional” from my vocabulary.
“We should, though.”
“About what?” Her hands curved over my hips and pulled me against her. That smile made my knees wobble, and suddenly, I was leaning into her just to keep from melting to her feet. She squeezed my butt, and our lips nearly brushed as she murmured, “Doesn’t seem like there’s anything we need to talk about.”
Oh there is. There so is. And it’s . . . And we . . . And this . . .
But then she kissed me, and my mind went blank.
There were distant echoes of things I’d been stressing over, of reasons why this was wrong and things I should’ve been doing instead of losing myself in her kiss, but one touch of her lips rendered all of that irrelevant. It was all there somewhere. On some plane, it all still mattered.
But in this moment, as her hand slid into my hair and her tongue slid under mine, it was like someone pressed Pause on everything outside this tiny room.
I wrapped my arms around her and gave in. Drawing a deep breath through my nose, I shivered—she smelled of coffee, solder, leather. The scents of her job, of the sometimes grueling work she was ditching to be in here with me now. The scents of . . . her. Everything that screamed Natalya even when I’d closed my eyes, as if there was any possibility of me forgetting whose lips were teasing mine and whose breasts were pressed up against me. God, this woman.
Voices outside raised the hairs on my neck. I broke the kiss and looked past her, out through the tiny slits between the venetian blinds. Jeremy stood behind the steps. A producer and a couple of assistants wandered past, everyone carrying coffee and frantically tapping their phones.
Slowly, the rest of the world started moving again. Became relevant again.
A sinking feeling tugged at my stomach. We didn’t have time for this. And my office wasn’t the place for it. We were colleagues. We were—
“Anna?” She touched my chin and turned my head so our eyes met again.
I swallowed. “We . . .” Shouldn’t. God, your eyes are beautiful. And the things you can do with that mouth. And the way your hair gets all messy when you—
“We what?” She tilted her head slightly.
I moistened my lips. “We don’t have much time.”
“We don’t need much.”
Excitement surged through my veins. “Guess we should make the most of it, shouldn’t we?”
“Mm-hmm.” With a single, swift motion, she had my belt unbuckled.
Holy shit. We weren’t just making out, were we?
“We shouldn’t . . . do this . . .”
Her hand stopped. “Why not?”
“Because we’re . . .” Horny. Wet. Alone. Together. I licked my lips. Those were not reasons why we shouldn’t. Those had all vanished from my brain. “My bodyguard, he—”
“He won’t hear a thing.” She kissed me. “Long as you’re quiet.”
Quiet? When you’re—
Oh my God . . .
She pushed my slacks and panties down past my hips, then spun me around and bent me over the desk. I landed on my forearms, sending scripts and files fluttering to the floor. Her hand drifted over my ass, and I was already out of breath.
Oh holy shit.
“Did you really want to talk?” she asked in that husky, sharply accented voice. “Or—”
“This is . . . this is good.” I closed my eyes, biting my lip when she squeezed my bare ass. “Really good.”
She laughed. “Thought so.”
“Guess that answers that question. About if you wanted to do it again.”
Natalya’s hand drifted between my thighs. “Of course I do. Why wouldn’t I?”
For all the millions of reasons I had called you in here to talk about, every one of which completely escapes me— Oh my God . . .
Her fingertip ran along the outer edges of my pussy, her touch light but still more than enough to take my breath away. I gripped the edge of the desk and parted my legs as much as I could with my slacks and panties pooled around my ankles.
Natalya took full advantage too. I barely had my head around what we were doing before her fingers slid up inside me. Her breath huffed across my neck, and then her lips touched the same spot, simultaneously warm and cool against my skin. Her fingers moved slowly, in and out, and it felt amazing. Torturous—overwhelming, but still a tease. If I could have formed words, I’d have found a way to tell her how much I wanted her to turn me around so I could lie back on top of all my papers and let her go down on me. Her fingers inside me made me ache for her lips, her tongue, her fingers—something on my clit.
Kneading the edge of the desk, I swept my tongue across my lips. “If I . . . if I turn around, you can . . .”
Fuck . . .
“I can what?” she asked.
“Your mouth. On my . . . God, Natalya . . .”
She laughed softly and kissed the back of my neck as she moved her fingers faster. “Touch yourself.”
“Touch my—”
“Yes.” Her commanding voice made my pulse race. “Touch yourself.”
Some voice inside my head tried to tell me how far out of my comfort zone this was, but my body and the rest of my brain were more interested in Natalya’s touch and my unbearable need to come. So I shifted onto one arm, snaked my other hand between the desk and my body, and . . . and I touched myself. At her command, I started circling my clit with two fingers, and as if she could feel every surge and pulse of Oh fuck yes radiating through me, she adjusted her speed to match mine. As I worked my clit, she fucked me with her fingers, and this shouldn’t have been nearly as hot as it was. Masturbating because she told me to? With my back to her instead of f
acing her? What the hell were . . .
Why was this so . . .
“Oh God.” I touched my forehead to the desk and squeezed my eyes shut.
“I almost called you last night,” she whispered in my ear. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”
I bit my lip. “Same. Fuck.”
“Is that what you wanted to talk about?” she breathed. “How soon we could do this again?”
No, but close enough. Because, oh God, don’t stop.
Her fingers hit my G-spot, and my own fingers worked my clit, and I . . .
I was . . .
“You’re so close,” she whispered. “I can feel it.” She leaned down, and her breath brushed my ear as she whispered, “Don’t hold back.”
I didn’t hold back. I couldn’t have if I’d wanted to.
With just enough presence of mind left to stay silent, to not announce this amazing release to the rest of the cast and crew, I pulled in a breath, buried my face in my arm, and just . . . fucking . . . shattered.
Chapter 7
Somehow, when the dust settled and my vision cleared, my office was still standing. The walls hadn’t fallen over like cheap sets after a harsh wind, revealing us and our sins to our colleagues outside.
My scripts and paperwork were scattered at our feet along with the rumpled clothes pooled around my ankles. My head was spinning, with no tequila to blame this time, and the AC was still humming and clicking as if the entire universe hadn’t just been flipped on its head.
The building was still standing and, to some degree, so was I.
Natalya kissed the side of my neck. Then she slipped her fingers free and let me go. I pushed myself up on shaking arms. Once I was sure the floor wouldn’t tilt out from under me, I turned around and leaned against my desk, still dizzy and out of breath.
I started clumsily fixing my clothes but didn’t get very far because I locked eyes with Natalya, and she picked just that moment to suck her fingers into her mouth and slowly pull them free.
“Tonight,” she whispered with a grin, “you can return the favor.”
“I . . .” I gulped. After a second, I nodded. “O-okay.”
She winked.
And then she was gone.
And I stood there, legs shaking and mouth watering, in the middle of the wreckage that had been stacked scripts and papers a few minutes ago.
What the hell just happened?
I shook myself and continued straightening my clothes. As good as my body felt, I should’ve been grinning and giddy, but something didn’t sit quite right. Yeah, fooling around with her had been hot. A million fantasies coming true all over again.
But hadn’t I called her in here to talk?
Right. Just like I’d invited her over to my place to commune over tequila and the bullshit that came with shitty relationships. Maybe that had been my intent, but it had gone right out the window the second she’d kissed me. Like her kiss had broken a spell that bound me to being responsible and mature—she’d freed me, turned me into a woman who wanted nothing more than to turn her on. How could I say no?
And if she walked back in here and wanted to do it again, well, I didn’t see myself resisting then either. With that orgasm still tingling between my legs and throughout my entire body, the thought of saying no was simply out of the question. Return the favor? Oh yes. Yes, I would. More than once, if she’d let me.
All my reservations and worries tugged at the edges of my consciousness, but I pushed them aside as best I could. Alone in my office, I picked up my papers, dropped them on my desk, and even managed to put myself back together. More or less, anyway. My hands were unsteady as I tamed a few strands of hair. I balanced a compact mirror in one hand, and almost regretted wearing as little makeup as I did, because I didn’t have some complicated smoky eye or contouring to repair. At least that would’ve been something to hold my focus while my knees stopped trembling and my heart stopped racing.
A quiet knock startled me. “Anna?” Jeremy asked through the door.
“Come on in.”
He pushed open the door and stepped inside. “I’m not intruding?” An odd smile played at his lips. Or maybe I was imagining it. After all, God only knew how much he’d heard.
Heat rushed into my cheeks, and I concentrated on my reflection in the shaky little mirror. How much had he heard?
Or . . . Oh Jesus. I would not put it past Natalya to wink at him and say, “Give her a minute,” before walking off.
She hadn’t. Had she?
Jeremy didn’t say anything, though. In his usual seat, he crossed one leg over the other and started thumbing through something on his phone. Good. Good. Maybe we hadn’t been as obvious—or loud!—as I’d thought. Levi and Carter would likely catch on eventually, but flying under my bodyguard’s radar was a plus.
I met my gaze in the tiny mirror. Yep. The world was still intact. No one knew. Natalya and I could and would talk later. It was a mistake, but maybe not such a catastrophic—
“Fishing off the company pier, are we?”
I dropped my compact, jumping when it clattered on my desk. “Huh?”
He eyed me over his phone and chuckled. “Do I look like I was born yesterday?”
“Not with all that gray, no.”
He flipped me the bird.
Shifting my weight, I eyed him. “So, you, um . . .”
“Like I said . . .” He sat up and put his phone facedown on his leg. “I wasn’t born yesterday. Relax, though. I’m just busting your chops.”
“I know you are, but . . .” I gnawed my lip.
Jeremy waved a hand. “You know what? It’s good to see you getting involved with someone else. Take it from someone who knows: there is such a thing as waiting way too long to move on from a relationship that went on too long.”
I nodded. “Except she’s a coworker.”
He shrugged. “Meh.”
I gestured sharply at him. “Not a word, okay?”
Laughing, he put up his hands. “Who would I tell? Scott?”
“Okay, fine. But . . .” My heart should’ve sunk. My shoulders should’ve tightened at the thought of all the reasons I’d brought her in here in the first place. But all I could think of were all the reasons I wished she’d come back in.
“Anna.” He inclined his head. “Why are you so worked up over this?”
“I’m not worked up.”
The arched eyebrow called bullshit.
I exhaled. “Okay, I . . . look, it’s not because of me and Leigh splitting up. I’m just not sure about . . .” The argument about dating a coworker died on my lips. Carter and Levi had already deconstructed that one and shot down all my reservations, apart from the fact that she worked for me. And even that seemed to get weaker the more I thought about it. We were both professionals. There was no reason to believe we couldn’t stay that way just because we’d seen each other naked.
Softly, I added, “She just broke up with someone.”
Someone. Her boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend. A man.
I shifted uncomfortably. “I mean, I’m not sure I want to be someone’s rebound, you know?”
Jeremy nodded. “Yeah, I get that. But if you both want the same thing, then what’s the harm?”
Okay. Fair point. And though I hadn’t had the opportunity to ask Natalya what she wanted from me, she was making it pretty clear every time we were alone.
Sighing, I shrugged. “I don’t even know what we’re doing yet. I’ll talk to her later. For now, I really need to skim through this script before I meet with the writers.”
Jeremy studied me, but then he shrugged too and sat back in his chair again. As he resumed playing on his phone, I opened the script I’d been reading earlier, and the world continued turning the way it had been before Natalya walked through that door. It hadn’t been a disaster. It hadn’t sent everything up in flames. Whatever we did tonight, same deal. And the next night. And the next one. Because I didn’t see us reining this thing back any
time soon.
Deep down, though, I knew we were making a mistake.
Only problem was, I’d have been lying if I said I didn’t want to keep making that mistake.
* * *
Despite my worries about where to go from here, I had to admit it was the pleasant afterglow of our office quickie that carried me through the next few hours. Between that and the sheer madness of working on a production set, I didn’t have time to think about all the reasons I shouldn’t be meeting Natalya after work.
When the day was over, though, and I was on my way home, my worries crept back in. I tried not to squirm in the passenger seat of Jeremy’s car while we shot the breeze. Did he notice? No idea. If he did, he didn’t say anything, and we said our usual good-byes when he dropped me off at home.
Then he was gone, and not five minutes later, Natalya arrived. I let her in, and the second she touched my waist and kissed me, I was her slave.
Sort of.
I wanted her. God, yes. Please.
But . . .
My heart thumped against my ribs, and it wasn’t just arousal. The conversation we hadn’t had in my office still echoed in my ears. Like it or not, we had to go there, and hopefully we could salvage the mood afterward.
Except the whole point is to talk about why we can’t do this at all.
We could fool around one more time, but then I’d be leading her on. Better to disappoint us both now than give this thing a chance to turn into something it couldn’t be.
God, I wish we could make this work. Damn it. Because you are such an amazing—
Abruptly, Natalya drew back, and her brow pinched. “Something wrong?”
“I . . .” I held her gaze. Then my shoulders sagged a bit, and I backed off. “Listen, before we go much further, we should probably get on the same page.”
“All right.” She shrugged, though it was a tight gesture—as if she were trying to seem more confident and relaxed than she was. “What about?”
“Well, for starters . . . what are we doing?”
“Um . . .” She cocked her head. “Going up to your bedroom to get each other off. I think?”