by RG Alexander
A man like that would never apologize and close the door, swearing he hadn’t seen anything. A man like that would come closer. Watch her. Join her.
It was her darkest fantasy. Being caught. Being seen. It was too tempting a moment for her to resist. She’d already been thinking about him, and when would she ever be this close again? Get another chance to do something so erotic and forbidden right under his nose?
She squeezed one nipple hard, her other hand dropping between her legs to caress the wet lips of her sex. In her mind Dean Warren was behind her, unzipping his perfectly pressed pants and bending her over the sink as he watched her reaction in the mirror.
He was too far gone for foreplay, and he slipped two thick fingers inside her, readying her for more, for all of him. She moaned softly. Yes. Yes, I’m ready now. I’ve been ready. Please, Mr. Warren, fu—
“Sara?” His voice filtered through the door and her fingers stilled, her eyes opening wide to stare at her flushed face in the mirror. “I’ve set a pair of sweatpants outside the door and the food is on its way. Also, I realize that last drink might have been too strong for you to enjoy. What’s your pleasure?”
Your fingers inside me. Your tongue. Your…oh, yes. Yes, like that. “Yes…umm, are you sure about dinner?” She knew she sounded out of breath, but she couldn’t help it. His voice so close it was making her crazy. She started to touch herself again, leaning against the sink while she pressed and rubbed on her clit and bit back a groan, marveling at her shamelessness. “You don’t have to go to any tro…oh…trouble.”
He was silent for a few, desperate heartbeats. Oh God. Was it her imagination that made her think he knew what she was doing? Knew she was naked and touching herself?
“No trouble, Sara.” Was his voice deeper now? “What can I get you?”
“I’m easy…I mean, whatever you’re having is fine, thank you, sir. Dean.”
Thank you, sir. Yes, sir. Fuck me, sir!
She wanted him to see her. All she had to do was call out to him and he would open the door to watch her as she touched herself, widening her stance and going deeper, faster, her fingers sending zaps of desire up her spine as she let the fantasy continue. His hazel eyes would demand she lift her breast to her mouth and lick her nipple while he watched. Demand she touch herself until she came.
Now, Sara. Indulge me.
She shuddered as a small ripple of pleasure swept through her body. Not enough, her greedy body whispered. Not as good as it could be with him.
The instant that thought began to fade, sanity crept in and she dropped her hands. What was she doing?
Diddling herself in a billionaire’s bathroom.
She groaned, lowering her chin to her chest. He was being a gentleman and she was starring in her own private porno.
Granted, he seemed disturbed and overly interested in her choice to leave the company, but he’d still gone out of his way to help her in her distress. The last thing he needed was her throwing her sticky flesh against his expensive suit and demanding sex instead of a severance package.
Dinner in his penthouse wearing sweatpants. That would have to be good enough.
She stepped into the shower and turned off the hot water, gritting her teeth at the icy spray and trying to think about clowns.
Did men actually do this? It didn’t help at all.
Chapter Two
He wanted her naked. Now.
As soon as she admitted the truth, Dean promised himself, he was going to get her undressed and see if he could work this sudden insanity out of his system. It was only fair since she had been the one to cause it. The way she looked in his shirt…
He barely managed to suppress an impatient growl as he watched her across the glass coffee table. He’d always believed he enjoyed a woman in sexy lingerie best—lace and ribbons he could tear with his teeth—but Sara Charles was fast changing his mind. The sexiest clothing on this woman was his.
His vee neck cotton shirt was long on her, but it strained against her heavy breasts, giving him shadowed glimpses of her lickable nipples when she brushed her long, glorious auburn curls back over her shoulders. His sweatpants were rolled up to her calves, drowning her in fabric, but there was no hiding her tempting body. Not from him.
It was hell not touching her when she was this close, so difficult resisting her when she looked so warm and approachable that he’d made sure to sit in the chair across from the couch she’d settled on after dinner. It wasn’t helping to temper his desire. Neither was the several hours he’d spent plying her with small talk, his favorite Chinese takeout and whiskey.
After all this time, Sara was in his clothes, on his couch and—because of him—a quarter past tipsy. The sun had set and she hadn’t noticed. Her box had been cleaned up and set into a sturdy bag by the door. He’d changed into a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants as well, the only clothing he kept here for comfort’s sake or when he needed to work out and work off some steam. Her clothes were dry, folded and waiting for her on his bed, and she could leave whenever she liked, but he wasn’t going to be the one to remind her. Not when he finally had her where he wanted her.
It was the reason she was here that was eluding him and making him a little crazed. He’d phoned his secretary while Sara was in the shower to confirm her story. There were several witnesses to the altercation, too many for him to doubt. Mrs. Grandholm assured him that it was the other woman who’d gone around the bend about her clowns, and that Sara Charles had indeed quit without giving notice. So she was telling the truth about what happened. And the result—that she no longer worked for him.
The timing was beyond suspicious, there was no getting around that—the odds weren’t something he could explain away—but that didn’t stop Dean from enjoying her voice or the scene Sara was currently describing in humorous detail.
“You told her to get laid?”
She covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes bright with laughter. “I can’t believe I’m admitting this, and I’m awful, I know. It just came out. And her hand just came up.”
His knuckles tightened in reflex. “That was inexcusable.”
“No it wasn’t. No one responds well to that kind of insult, and to be honest I’m not even one to talk in that department. Lately I’ve only had enough energy to crawl back to my apartment and curl up with…” Her cheeks flushed. “Let’s just say there’s been a drought and I plan to enjoy my month off making it rain.”
“I know exactly what you mean.”
Sara sent him a disbelieving look. “I doubt that. I hear the weather is pretty active in Warrenland all year round.”
“I meant about working too hard,” he improvised quickly.
She doesn’t work for you anymore.
It kept repeating in his head, taunting him, tempting him. She’d taken his only obstacle out of the way. And the way she was talking, almost flirtatiously, making it all seem so easy. Too easy. Damn it. “As to the other, you’d be surprised. As surprised as I am that this squabble made you decide to leave us when you don’t seem that upset. Was that the only reason?”
I plan to enjoy my month off.
She took another sip of her whiskey and licked her lips, clearly savoring the flavor as she nodded. He could easily become obsessed with that mouth. Bow shaped lips that were more often smiling than not. He wanted to be the reason she smiled. Wanted to feel those lips on his skin.
“Why a month, specifically? Did you win the lottery, Ms. Charles? Are you selling secrets to my competition or going back to an old job?”
“My old job might have had a few more laughs, but it didn’t have comprehensive insurance benefits…and you have no competition.” She shook her head, her adorable smile making him shift in his chair to hide his reaction. . “Even if you did, I promise I would resist them to take this vacation. I’ve been putting together my fun fund for a while now and it is time to use it. Lately I’ve been spending my lunch breaks fantasizing about tropical islands and long, deep tissue massa
ges.”
“I’ve been told I’m something of an expert at deep tissue massage.” Why had he said that?
Don’t let her distract you.
“I’ve heard that about you too.” Sara’s green eyes widened as if she’d surprised herself, but she didn’t look away. “That is, I’ve heard you have a wide variety of unexpected skills. Hobbies. It’s good to have hobbies. I’m a fan of yoga, myself. It’s a good way to stay flexible when you spend so many hours behind a desk, though I wish they’d rename a few of the positions. Downward Facing Dog for example. Not the image you want in your head when your behind is pointing to the sky. Please say something, Mr. Warren, so I can stop digging this hole.”
“Why, when I’m enjoying it so much?” Dean shook his head, unable to resist responding with a tight smile though adrenaline raced through his veins as he readied himself for the truth. “No reason for you to deny it, Sara. What people say about me. I imagine you’ve heard a lot. Anytime my assistant wants to know what my employees are talking about, he visits the twenty-third floor. Most of the rumors aren’t true.”
She pointed at him sternly. “Don’t ruin the illusion, Mr. Warren. For some people in this building, your exploits—real or not—are the only light in their otherwise gloomy and boring existence.”
“Dean, remember? What else have you heard about me, Sara? Anything recently? Perhaps something that helped you take that extra step during today’s ‘Clown Catastrophe’? Something that led you to believe you had other options?”
Sara set her drink down with a regretful smile. “And the fantasy ends,” she muttered softly, before getting to her feet. “I really enjoyed the dinner, Mr. Warren, and your generosity.”
Dean stood up quickly. “Surely you don’t have to go yet.”
She blinked. “I think it’s possible whiskey isn’t my drink after all, but I can pick up my car in the morning. It’s time for me to call a cab, name it pumpkin and get myself home before midnight.”
Before he knew what he was doing he was standing beside her, his hands firmly on her shoulders. He didn’t want her to leave. “Where’s the fire, Cinderella? Don’t want to answer my question?”
She lifted one slender reddish-brown eyebrow. “You haven’t asked one. Not the one you want to. I don’t do subtle, sir. You’ve obviously been waiting for something since I got here, and nothing I’ve said has satisfied you. I’m an open book, but you have to actually ask me. Otherwise, I’ll say goodbye, no harm done.”
This wasn’t what he wanted. He hadn’t thought about her leaving at all. He’d had a plan, damn it, or most of one. One he was certain he could have put in motion in a few weeks and he didn’t like thinking she’d had help in making that plan moot.
“You don’t do subtle? I can appreciate that, Ms. Charles, if you can accept that I don’t do coincidence. In my experience it doesn’t exist. Maybe I’m off base, but I find it odd that less than a week after a Ms. Anonymous article on fantasies leads me to share personal information with a small group of interfering friends, you show up happily unemployed, inviting and receptive and practically naked in my living room.”
“You brought me here, and the only parts of me that are naked are my feet.” Sara’s expression conveyed utter confusion. “I guess I had more to drink than I thought because I have no idea what you just said. What information? What friends? What does it have to do with me?”
Dean could see her confusion, but he couldn’t allow himself to trust it. And his frustration made it impossible for him to let it go. “You know what’s funny? I’d already decided they might be right about my rules. Already decided to come after you on my own. But one of them must have gotten to you first and offered you something in exchange for fulfilling my fantasy. Because they’re worried about me and God knows I’m not capable of getting what I want without their help.”
“Hold the phone, buddy.” She pushed away from him and crinkled her forehead in confused disbelief. “Am I hearing you right? You talked about me to your friends? Me? I would be flattered if it wasn’t for the intimation that I agreed to quit my job so I could throw myself at you without company policy standing in my way. That you think I took something in exchange for... I never believed the bad press, but is that some kind of game the four of you play? Do you and your friends do that for each other a lot? Bribe women to date you? Procure each other’s sex partners?”
Dean flinched. The way she’d laid it out sounded tawdry. Beneath her.
She had no idea what he was talking about.
“I apologize, Ms. Charles.” His jaw was so tight it was difficult to get the words out. His mind was too busy racing to find a way to take his accusations back. “I haven’t been the best judge of—I came to the wrong conclusions…”
“Oh, no.” She scoffed at his choice of words. “You came to epically wrong conclusions, Mr. Warren and you are a horrible judge of character. Who even thinks like that? You’ve been dating the wrong kind of women, Bossy McHotpants, if you haven’t been cold-cocked for talking that kind of trash.”
He’d definitely been dating the wrong kind of women, but they’d been the ones who taught him not to trust what he saw.
Bossy McHotpants?
Did she think he was hot?
She turned away from him but stopped herself, whirling back around, her chin high. “And, by the way, if I had been coming up to your office to seduce you? I wouldn’t have done it covered in soda and looking pathetic to get you to feel sorry for me. You would have known right away what I wanted and I doubt you’d have been able to refuse. I told you, I don’t do subtle. Thank heaven I resisted the temptation.”
“Were you tempted, Sara?” The question escaped before he had the chance to stop himself.
Sara looked at him sideways before turning around again and heading down the hall to the bedroom. “Like I’m going to tell you now.”
“Shit,” he hissed, following her because he couldn’t help himself. She’d just been so… Close. Beautiful. Sexy. He swore again. “There’s no excuse for my behavior or the way I spoke to you, but I can’t let you call a cab. Please allow me to take you home, Ms. Charles. It’s the least I can do.”
For being such an arrogant prick.
She picked her bra up from the top of her pile of clothes, refusing to look into his eyes. “I’m perfectly capable of getting myself home. And making my own decisions. Also paying my own way and seducing my own sex partners, in case you were wondering. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to change.”
He didn’t leave. Couldn’t. “Sara, I wish you would let me… What do you think you’re doing?”
She’d lifted the shirt over her head and dropped it on the bed, giving him an unexpected view of her breasts. They were without question the most beautiful breasts he’d ever seen. Full and firm and flawless.
Jesus Fucking Christ.
They made his mouth water, made him weak in the knees. He could happily spend the rest of his life exploring every curve and slope and die a happy man buried between them.
She clasped the hooks of her bra, spun it around and slipped the straps over her shoulders, taking away his short glimpse of paradise.
“I think I’m getting dressed.”
Showing you what you can’t have. Making all the blood rush to your cock so fast your head spins.
She was right. She didn’t do subtle. She was magnificent and fearless when she was being righteous. Irresistible. God, he wanted those breasts in his mouth more than he wanted to breathe. Wanted to hold their weight in his hands and kiss her until she forgot the last five minutes completely. Would she show him everything, strip down completely so he’d know all he’d lost when she disappeared from his life?
“A month ago,” he said, his throat raw with need as he watched her slowly buttoning up her blouse, hiding the creamy flesh completely. “It was a Monday, I think. It had rained and you came running into the elevator laughing at something a security guard had said, soaking wet because you hadn’t brought a
coat or umbrella.”
Sara paused on the third button. “That would be Andrew. He’s the funny one with the beard.”
“Your hair was in a braid falling down your back,” he continued softly. “And when you turned to make room for the other woman who followed you in, I could see those hard pink nipples through your clinging ivory blouse and bra.”
She gasped, looking up at him, her green eyes darkening with surprise and desire.
Dean kept talking. “I spent the rest of the day reliving the morning. Changing how it ended it my mind. I’d be a gentleman and take off my jacket to cover you up. I’d come up with an excuse to get you in my office so I could seduce you and strip you and find out if you tasted as good as you looked. Then I imagined you on your knees in the elevator, your braid wrapped around my fist as I came.”
“Stop.” She didn’t sound like she wanted him to.
“Why, Sara?” He shrugged, feeling frayed around the edges. “I thought I owed you some unsubtle honesty. I’ve already made a fool of myself. Already ruined whatever good impression you had of me. You no longer work for me, so why not go all the way and tell you what I think about whenever I see you? Why it’s so hard for me to believe you could be here. Politically correct or not.”
“What do you think about?”
Dean’s smile was tight with restraint. “Sex. No matter what I’m doing or how bad my day has been, no matter how professional I need to be or how good the weather in Warrenland is, I see you and all of that falls away. I see you and every thought in my head centers on what I want to do to you. All the ways and positions and number of times I could have you until you’d had enough. It’s not something I ever thought I’d admit to, I can’t explain it and it damn sure isn’t something I’m proud of, but I can’t deny it’s there.”