by M. S. Force
I can’t wait another second to be inside her. Fumbling with my belt, zipper, shirttails and the condom takes thirty seconds longer than I have. Grasping her hips, I plunge into her, and she goes stiff—and not in a good way. Fuck, she’s sore, and I hurt her.
“I’m sorry, love.” I stroke her face and hair as I give her body a chance to stretch to accommodate me. In tiny increments that have me counting backward from one thousand to keep from imploding, she begins to relax and move restlessly beneath me.
“Jasper,” she says in a broken whisper. “I need—”
“Say it.”
“I need you to move. Please.”
“Mmm, you’re awfully polite when you’re getting well and truly fucked on a conference table in the middle of the workday.”
The scarlet hue that overtakes her face thrills me. I decide to stretch this out a bit. Why, after all, would I let her get off easy a second time? Starting at the top, I begin to unbutton her blouse, letting my fingers drag over her soft skin as I go.
“I, uh…”
“Shhh,” I tell her, zeroing in on the front clasp of her bra. That’s perfect for what I have in mind. The extension on my desk rings. I ignore it as I peel open her bra, revealing the lovely breasts I’ve thought about constantly since last night. Thrusting ever so slightly, in case she’s forgotten I’m wedged deep inside her, I lean in to take her left nipple into my mouth, sucking and tugging and tonguing it.
She fists two handfuls of my hair, pulling so hard I worry about bald spots.
Without releasing the suction on her nipple, I slide my hands under her, drawing her up and into my arms as I fall back into the chair. She comes down hard on top of me, making me see stars. Fuck, that’s hot. With a sweet arse cheek in each hand, I raise and lower her while continuing to torment her nipples.
She’s moving instinctively on top of me, chasing her orgasm, when I surprise her again with the finger to the back door. What can I say? I’m a certified arse man, and as I’ve discovered, that trick sets her off every time. She goes nuts, clamping down so hard on my cock and finger that she makes me come, too.
We sit there for a long time, her impaled on my cock, which is still harder than it should be after that explosion, and me with her nipple in my mouth and my finger stuffed up her arse. God, I fucking love dirty, daytime, conference table sex with Ellie Godfrey.
“You…” She squirms, clearly trying to dislodge my finger.
I drive it in deeper, making her gasp, and I swear she has another little orgasm. My lovely Ellie is an arse girl. She may not be willing to admit it yet, but she’s hot for it. Wait until she feels my dick there. The visual of her taking me there makes my cock hard again.
She comes back to her senses all of a sudden, pushing on my chest. “Jasper! Stop! Enough!”
Chuckling at her outrage, I remove all parts of me from all parts of her, even though that’s the last thing I want to do.
“Come with me.” I lead her into my adjoining bathroom, where we clean up.
Ellie looks in the mirror and lets out an inelegant squeal at the state of her hair and face. “How am I going to explain what I was doing in here for half an hour and why I came out with a red face, razor burn and swollen lips?”
“You forgot the situation with your hair.”
She glares at me, and I experience the oddest feeling of complete and utter rightness. It’s euphoria and joy and, hell, it’s a thousand and one things all at the same bloody time, and I can honestly say I’ve never experienced anything even close to it. I’m reeling.
“I can’t even believe we just did that here of all places.” She yanks on her hair, trying to restore order to it, but only succeeds in making it worse. “We’re not doing that again.”
I could remind her that she agreed to let me be in charge of when and how we do it, but I refrain, sensing she’s not finished with me yet.
“And what’s with the finger? For God’s sake, Jasper, that’s just…”
“Awesome?”
“No! It’s weird!”
“So weird that you fucking explode every time I do it?” I wrap my arms around her from behind and press kisses to her neck, gratified when she tilts her head to give me room.
“I do not.”
“Um, yeah, you do. I can’t believe you’ve never done that before, darling.”
“Why can’t you believe it? I’m a good girl. I don’t do anal.”
That makes me laugh out loud and earns me another scowl. “You do now.”
“No, I don’t.” She tries to get away from me, but I only tighten my arms around her.
“Why do you deny you love it when it’s obvious that you do?”
“It’s dirty.”
“Mmm, that’s what makes it so bloody hot. Wait until you feel my cock there, darling. You’ll go off like a rocket ship.”
“You’re not putting your cock there. We’re working on getting pregnant, not exploring new frontiers.”
“Why can’t we do both? When you’re so sore you can’t take anymore here,” I say, cupping her pussy and making her gasp, “we can explore new frontiers.” I press my cock between her cheeks, working her from both ends.
“Jasper, stop,” she says with a pleading edge to her voice that has me fully withdrawing from her. “I have to get back to work.” She turns to face me. “This was… It was… fun. I’ve never done anything like that on a conference table in the middle of a workday, but now I really have to go do the job you guys are paying me to do.”
“Very well, but next week, you’re all mine.” My voice is gruffer and harsher than I intended, but she doesn’t seem to mind. “Say it.”
“Next week, I’m all yours, but after that, I need to get my life back to normal. I can’t be blowing off work and appointments—”
“What appointment did you blow off?”
“I was supposed to have a call with Marlowe’s friend from the dating service when I got back from the doctor, but it’s so late now that I doubt she’s even still there.”
“Don’t do that.” The words are out before I stop to consider what I’m saying.
“Don’t do what?”
“Date other guys. Not while you’re doing this with me.” I pull her in tight against my hard cock to make my point. “I won’t be able to stand it.”
She stares at me, her lips slightly parted. “But my baby, I want him—or her—to have a father, Jasper. I need to find someone.”
I can’t handle the note of desperation I hear in that single word. Someone. The incredibly beautiful, smart, sexy, capable Ellie Godfrey shouldn’t have to settle for just someone. She should have the stars, the moon, the entire bloody universe from someone who worships her the way she deserves. The very idea of her settling is preposterous to me. And it makes me very sad for what can never be.
“You—”
She kisses me quickly. “We’ll talk about it later. I’ve really got to go.”
“I’ll pick you up for dinner at eight. We’ll talk about it then.” I have a racquetball match with Kristian after work that I’ll have to postpone, because I can’t let this day end without hearing that she’s put her plans to use the dating service on hold. For now anyway.
After a brief hesitation, she says, “Okay. I’ll see you then.”
Chapter 9
Thank God no one is in the hallway when I sneak out of Jasper’s office and head for mine, feeling as if the whole world must know what we just did. I tried like hell to be quiet, but he didn’t make it easy. The man is insane. That’s the only word for the way he makes love or has sex or whatever you want to call that.
Here I am, almost thirty-six years old, and this man is making me feel like a newly deflowered virgin in the throes of my sexual awakening. All this time, he’s been right down the hall, capable of that.
My face is on fire, as if I just had a battery acid wash or something equally awful performed by a hack doctor. And my lower half is still twitching and throbbing and otherwis
e letting me know it’s been thoroughly ravaged in the best possible way.
Someone knocks on my door, and before I can say anything, Addie comes breezing in, smiling from ear to ear the way she does now that she has Hayden’s ring on her finger and the man himself in her bed. She stops short, her astute gaze zeroing in on the wreckage that is me.
“What’s wrong? Are you sick?”
This, right here, is why I’ve never been a have-sex-in-the-office kind of girl. Nothing good ever comes of it, other than spectacular, life-changing orgasms…
“I’m not sure. I might be coming down with something.” And here I am laying the groundwork for my upcoming sick-out, during which I plan to spend days in bed making a baby with the sexy Brit who makes me come like a Roman candle. I’m a bad, bad person, and I’m getting worse by the second.
She comes over to feel my forehead. “It’s going around. My friend Tenley has it. She’s been holed up at home for days now. You might be a little warm. Should you go home?”
“No, no. I’ve got too much to do.” Not to mention, the idea of leaving work due to a sex-induced fever makes me feel guilty—and I already feel guilty enough about Jasper convincing me to take a week off to get pregnant. A week of that. I can’t even let my mind go there or I might implode. “What’s up?”
“Flynn’s looking for a head count for Saturday night at his house. It’s you and five kids, right?”
“That’s right.”
She types something into her phone. “Got it.” Taking another close look at me, she says, “You’re sure you’re all right?”
“I’m fine. I promise.”
“All righty, then. I’m off.” She breezes out of the room, passing Dax, who’s on his way in. They exchange a few words, and Addie laughs at whatever he said. Per usual, he comes in talking, but stops mid-sentence when he actually looks at me. I’m never allowing Jasper to touch me in the office again. Ever.
“What. The. Hell.” Dax shuts the door and keeps his hand on the handle, as if he might need to escape quickly.
“Girl troubles,” I whisper, clutching my midsection.
His lip curls in horror. “Ewww.”
“You asked.” Eager to get rid of him, I add, “Was there a reason for this visit?”
“We, um, there’s an issue in Budapest.” Without making eye contact with me, he goes into a rambling explanation of a cultural tradition that is bumping up against our request to film in the city. My team has been trained not to come to me with a problem or challenge without also having some solutions for me to choose from.
“We can move the dates by two days and avoid the entire fiasco, but that would mean shifting everything back in Rome, too.”
We’ve spent months setting up Rome, and we’re not moving anything.
“Can we start two days earlier in Budapest?”
“I can ask.”
“Do that, and let me know.”
“Right. Um, feel better.” He’s out the door before I can say thank you.
Groaning, I drop my head into my hands. I should’ve stuck to the sperm bank. At least then I wouldn’t be trying to hide the evidence of a midday office hookup with my colleague who is also, technically, one of my bosses. And one of my brother’s closest friends.
“Ugh!”
By the time eight o’clock rolls around, I’ve built up a head of steam that I unleash on Jasper the second he comes through my door. Randy, that traitor, goes running over to give him enthusiastic dog love.
“That is never, ever, ever happening again at the office. Do you hear me?”
“I think they heard you in Malibu, darling.”
“Don’t call me that! I’m not your darling or your… your anything. We’re having sex and making a baby, and that’s all we’re doing. And we’re not doing it in the office. That’s not happening again!”
“I understand.”
“Do you? Do you really understand what it’s like for everyone who isn’t a partner? That’s my job, my livelihood—”
“Darling…”
My glare doesn’t deter him.
He rests his hands on my shoulders. “Let me put your mind at ease. You could never, ever, ever be fired from Quantum. You’re family—not just Flynn’s family. We’re all family. We take care of our family. Don’t give that worry another thought.”
I shake him off. I’ve learned to be cautious about letting him touch me at all if I don’t want to end up spread-eagled under him. “I’m not the kind of girl who has sex in the office and then goes on with her day like nothing happened. I had to tell Dax that I have girl problems so he wouldn’t ask any questions. The poor guy is scarred for life!”
Jasper runs his hand over his mouth in an obvious attempt not to laugh.
“If you laugh, I’ll throat-punch you.”
“I’m not laughing!” His dancing eyes betray him. I wonder if he knows how adorable he is when he’s trying not to be amused. Of course he does. He’s adorable twenty-four-seven, and he absolutely knows it. He comes closer to me, moving cautiously as if he’s not entirely sure I won’t punch him.
My crossed arms don’t deter him. He places his hands on my hips and draws me into him. I want to push him away, but that would be difficult with my arms mashed between our chests. His lips brush against my neck, and my knees go weak. And yes, I hate that’s all he has to do to make that happen.
“No more sex in the office. Are we all sorted now?”
“Yes, as long as you know I mean it.”
“I know you mean it. Now what do you want for dinner?”
“Wait. There’s another thing.” I step back from him, needing the space so I won’t forget what I want to say. That’s another of his superpowers—kissing me or touching me and making my brain go blank.
“What’s this other thing of which you speak?”
“We’re only having sex to make a baby. No more…extras.”
His brow lifts in inquiry, which is also ridiculously adorable. Can I punch him for that, too? “By extras, you mean…”
“You know what I mean!”
“Darling—”
“Don’t call me that!”
“Ellie, sweetheart, as honored and delighted as I am to be fathering your child, I’m not a robot. Things,” he says, gesturing to below his belt, “don’t just happen without some… inspiration. I can’t just produce on demand.”
I’m definitely going to punch him. When I get done squirming.
“So you see, the extras, as you refer to them, are a necessary part of making this baby you want so badly.”
“Fine, but we’re only doing what we have to do to make everything work, and then we’re done. That’s it.”
He rubs at his chest. “I’m feeling strangely wounded by your rejection of my extras. Especially since I’ve had ample evidence of your enthusiastic enjoyment of my repartee.”
“Are you making fun of me?”
“Absolutely not. I’m merely pointing out that we’ve both had fun practicing to make a baby and why can’t we continue to have fun making the baby?”
“Because! Your kind of fun leads to sex in the office, which leads to mortification, which leads to mmph—”
He kisses me, and sure enough, I forget what I was going to say, because I’m far too busy wrapping my tongue around his and losing myself to the ridiculous way he kisses me, as if he’ll die if he can’t kiss me right here and now. Have I ever been kissed the way he does it? No, never, and as much as I want to fight him and push him away, I seem to have lost the ability to move my arms along with my wherewithal to manage this “situation.”
Jasper kisses me until I’m a malleable pile of putty in his hands. How does he do that? “I hate to remind you, darling, that you did agree to allow me to be in charge of certain things, and I’m afraid I’m going to have to hold you to our original agreement, along with all the extras I can dream up.”
Before I can disagree or argue the point, he’s kissing me again while backing me up in the d
irection of my bedroom. Wait, what’s he doing? I should stop this before he makes me forget I’m angry with him. And why am I angry with him again? Oh. Right. Sex in the office. Well, he promised that wouldn’t happen again. And the extras weren’t bad, per se…
He kicks the door shut before Randy can follow us, and the dog’s pathetic whimper lets me know his thoughts on the matter.
Here I am on my back, spread-eagle while Jasper expertly removes my top and skirt, reminding me with everything he does that not only is he in charge, he’s exceptionally good at the extras.
“I think you deserve a punishment for questioning my authority.”
Whhhhat did he just say? I open my eyes to find him above me, a fierce, proprietary expression on his face.
“Don’t you agree?”
“I most definitely do not agree.”
“Well, since you did agree to allow me to be in charge in here, and I say you deserve a punishment, I’d say you’d better be on your hands and knees in the time it takes me to get my clothes off, or the punishment will get worse.”
I’m stunned speechless, but I can’t deny I’m also curious and intensely aroused. I know with the kind of certainty that comes with long friendship that he would never truly hurt me. Because of that and because of the aforementioned insane curiosity, I move into the position he requested.
“Always such a good girl, aren’t you?” He lays his hands on my bottom, squeezing and shaping my cheeks. “I think there’s a very naughty girl in there, trying to break free. You ought to let her out to play, darling. I think she and I would have a marvelous time together.”
Before I can formulate a reply to that audacious statement, his hand connects with my right cheek. The next one comes before I’ve begun to process the first one. And so it goes, one right after the other, each in a new spot, each followed by a caress that sets me on fire with an urgent need that’s all new to me. It’s almost painful in its intensity.