Jarod smiled as Sara eased closer to him and the desk. Oh, how he wanted to reach out and take her in his arms and kiss her. “How about some chocolate? It wouldn’t be a date without popcorn, candy, and soda, now would it?”
Even though it was cold, he’d taken the time to find ice and put it into two cups. Had he noticed that she always drank her sodas with ice? Another caring gesture that kept her mind in a tailspin.
Within minutes, they were sitting on the couch arguing over what to watch. Sara had protested, but only a little, when he’d insisted they sit together to conserve body heat. The twinkle was back in his eyes, and she was far too weak to resist it.
“Absolute Zero? You have got to be kidding me,” Jarod groused at her choice of movies. Whether it was just some odd coincidence or some programmer’s weird sense of humor, the Syfy network was having a marathon of weather-related disaster movies. “I’ve already admitted I’m a fan of the genre, but you have to admit this is one of the cheesier disaster movies.”
Sara tossed a piece of popcorn in her mouth and just grinned at him. “Maybe, but Jeff Fahey makes up for the lack of a plot.”
“Okay, okay.” He put the remote down and settled against the leather couch back. When he reached for the popcorn, she inched it closer to him. “So you have a thing for older men, do you? I guess I’ll need to keep you away from my dad then.”
“Ha, ha.” She slapped him on his arm, leaning back and unconsciously moving closer to him. They spent the next two hours watching the movie and making their way through the horde of snack food he’d discovered on some of the other floors.
The rest of the day passed in much the same manner, except they did take the time to work a little in the late afternoon. Well, Jarod worked a little. Since he wouldn’t allow her to go back to her office and work on the filing system again, all she could really do was some calendar updates and memos on her tablet. She made a note to ask him for a laptop in case she ever got stranded at home. And she napped, using the two big towels as her blanket. When was the last time she’d taken a nap in the middle of the day? Probably not since her last snow day as a kid.
When it grew dark outside, she got up from the couch and wandered over to the windows, rubbing her arms against the chill coming off the glass. If she knew Jarod, and she liked to think she knew him just a little, he’d work well into the evening. She couldn’t complain. He’d spent the day entertaining her and making sure she was warm and fed.
Taking care of her.
“Are you cold?”
It didn’t surprise her when he came up behind her, his large hands engulfing the tops of her shoulders. Immediately his thumbs worked their way under the straps of her jumper and started a slow caress.
She was anything but cold. How could she be after spending an afternoon, snuggled up against a wolf who radiated heat like a furnace? Of course, some of that heat was of the sexual kind. She shook her head. “No, not really.”
“I can’t have you cold, Sara.” He made the statement as if he were responsible for her entire wellbeing. As if he were going to dedicate himself to keeping her warm, feed, protected. Loved. He drew her into his arms, circling her waist with his muscled arms, but he did nothing more, and for an age, she stood in the circle of his arms as they watched the snow start to fall once again.
Was it wrong to wish it never stopped? That this day never ended?
She closed her eyes and allowed herself to clasp his arms where he held her. Sometime during the last hour, he’d undone his cuffs and rolled up his sleeves almost to his elbows. She couldn’t resist sliding her hands over the springy hair on his forearms. The feeling was overtly masculine. She slid her thumb across the prominent bones on each of his wrists, then along his fingers. It was an innocent caress, but it was a caress.
Oh, God, what was she doing?
His hands left her waist to brush back her long hair, exposing the curve of her neck. His tanned face moved downward to the side of her neck. She was acutely conscious of the soft inhalation of her scent. “You smell so damn good, Sara.”
Barely shifting their bodies, he lifted her face to his. He lowered his head and sought her lips. The hand stroked the smooth skin of her throat down to the edge of the fake turtleneck. She allowed herself to be drawn into a deep, intimate kiss before he broke away gently, only to pull her closer and start to kiss her again. She was turned almost sideways, and she felt the bulge of his cock pressing against her hip. She tried to draw away, afraid of the implications of his arousal.
“Sssh,” he whispered against her lips. “We’re just kissing.” He eased her closer, pressing the fuller flesh of her hips into his groin. “Just kissing.”
Again and again, he kissed her, and again she lost herself in the feel of him. His size swallowed her, making her felt desirable and wanted. Dominated. He didn’t allow his hands to roam, but they weren’t still. One was pressed to her lower back, his fingers spread wide, moving and caressing. The other was squeezing the side her hip, rocking her into his groin. It took her a moment to realize the sounds she was hearing were deep, little growls coming from deep in his throat each time he pressed her to him.
He slipped the hand from her back up under the hem of her jumper, his fingers trailing along the inside of her thighs from behind. With each pass, he moved closer and closer to her pussy, caressing her inner thigh until she thought she might pass out from anticipation. She wanted him to touch her there—to touch her pussy—to ease the ache he was building inside her.
“There’s no use pretending there’s nothing between us.”
“There’s not,” she mumbled against his lips.
“I’m pretty sure there is.” Jarod allowed his finger to travel the dangerous route up her leg until he found the waistband of her leggings. The stretchy Lycra gave way to his exploring finger. Soon, her jumper was bunched up around her waist, and his entire hand was inside her pants, his palm cupping the cheek of her ass.
She tried to wiggle away, but his fingers just tightened on her like small bands of steel.
“We can’t.”
“Oh, pretty baby. We most certainly can, and we are.”
Sara’s head was telling her to use any excuse at hand to extract herself from this compromising situation, but her body was singing a different tune, a wickedly seductive tune. The sound of his deep, velvet coated voice wasn’t helping. She wanted to be persuaded, her body was screaming out to be touched.
He slowly backed toward the leather couch, keeping his hand down her pants, his fingers kneading and stroking the bubble of her ass as they moved. Once there, he pulled her down onto his lap. Instinctively her hands grasped his neck. Sara had never sat on a man’s lap before. The atmosphere was thick with unspoken needs and the innocent act of sitting on his lap took on a whole new meaning.
Sara made a strangled noise as he positioned her exactly how he wanted her. Her ass was pressed squarely on his lap. Each of her legs rested on a cushion on either side of his hips. The hand had moved from inside her leggings to spread across the whole of her back while the other gripped her right leg tightly, right above her knee. She knew she’d have finger-sized bruises there in the morning.
It was his eyes that forced the strangled noise from her throat as she lost herself in the indecently sexy amber color. She felt herself melt at the look of hunger in those depths. The feel of the hard ridge of his cock between the cheeks of her buttocks left her in no doubt of exactly who he wanted.
Her. Chubby, almost-plain-Jane, Sara Allen.
“Of course, I want you, baby. How could you ever doubt that?”
She opened her mouth to ask how he knew what she was thinking, but before she could say anything his mouth covered hers, and he was thrusting his tongue inside, licking along the inside, thrusting. Fucking. Within their kiss lay the essence of forbidden passion. It was strong and urgent, and shamefully hungry.
Sara lasted all of two seconds before she was submitting to the dominance of his touch. Jarod’s han
d curled into her hair, and he pulled her towards him until he could kiss along her jaw line, the stubble of his jaw marking her as he tasted her. Hot and cold flushes raced through her body at the scrape of his beard along her tender skin.
When his hand moved, his touch sent an urgent message to her brain, telling her to open her legs wider so she could feel the warmth of his palm against her melting core.
“Are you wet for me, Sara?” He dragged all his fingers roughly over her clothing, up her center, and Sara arched into his touch. Her hands tightened on his shoulders. She was wet for him, all right. She was aching for him. “Oh, you are a naughty girl,” he whispered in her ear as he pressed his middle finger into her slit. “So wet for your wolf.”
Through the blurred mist of her thoughts, Sara realized her chance to pull away, stop this before she went past the point of no return, was fading fast. She’d never been a risk-taker. She had never rebelled during her teenage years. She had been a goody-two shoes, content to watch from the sidelines while other girls broke the rules.
Having sex with her boss would constitute the biggest risk she could take. She was willing to go against everything she had always believed in. Falling in love, getting married, having a family. There was none of that here—no courtship, no dating, no romance. Just hot, wild sex.
When his thumb pressed against her clit, she knew exactly what she was going to do. Enjoy every damn minute of it.
“Please, Jarod,” she mumbled against his throat. “Please fuck me.”
Jarod’s cock shot straight up at his mate’s raw words. She was always so prim and proper, the word was a surprise coming from her innocent looking mouth.
A damn hot surprise, his wolf grinned inside at him.
His body wanted to race ahead and take what she was offering, in the way she was offering. Fast. Hard. Needy. But he couldn’t. Not yet. She was too innocent, and he was too randy. Too full. He’d hurt her if he took her that way in the condition he was in. It had been a very long time since he’d been satisfied. If ever. Jarod buried his face in the juncture of her neck, nudging aside the thick locks of her hair to breathe in her intoxicating scent.
Twisting them around, he laid Sara on the soft leather of the sofa, his big body bowed over her. He continued to place kisses along her neck, down her jaw, reluctant to stop touching her, before he stood up.
Sara watched, fascinated and turned on as Jarod stripped. He removed his clothing quickly and efficiently. First, he rolled down his sleeves before pulling the tail of his shirt from his pants. His fingers made quick work of the buttons down the front. The two halves fell open, giving Sara a tantalizing glimpse of what lay underneath. Dark toned skin, a light spattering of dark hair. Heavens, why was a half-naked man in a dress shirt so damn sexy?
Her breath caught when he shrugged out of the shirt. Jarod McCall was a big man with broad shoulders and a chest a mile wide. Their gazes caught and held as he removed his belt and kicked off his shoes.
“Don’t want you to think I’m not staying awhile if I keep these on,” he smiled down at her as he bent to remove his socks.
If Sara hadn’t been so nervous, she would have laughed. She’d heard some of her married friends complain that their husbands kept on their socks during, um, intimate moments.
As it was, she almost swallowed her tongue—which led to images of swallowing something else—when he pushed his pants and underwear down his hips and off his legs. She couldn’t believe her boss—billionaire wolf shifter, Jarod McCall—was standing in front of her without a stitch of clothing.
Seeing the length and width of his cock she briefly wondered if she was taking on more than she could handle.
As if sensing her distress, he murmured, “Easy, baby. Everything is going to be fine. Now for you.”
Crap on a cracker.
Sara let her head fall back onto the sofa and stare up at the ceiling as he gently removed her boots and socks. Every moment that passed made her want to bolt from the room. This was the hardest part about sleeping with a man. Undressing. Revealing all your flaws, imperfections. It was doubly damned difficult when you were getting naked in front of an Adonis of a man. Or wolf.
“One day you’re going to keep these boots on while a fuck you.”
She gasped at him when he dropped them on the floor by their feet, then squeezed her eyes shut when she felt his hands skimming up her legs, sliding beneath the hem of her jumper to find the waistband of her leggings. She groaned inwardly, remembering the underwear she had on. She’d dressed more for warmth and comfort than seduction. Cause who the hell would have imagined she’d find herself stranded in a snowstorm with her gorgeous boss undressing her so they could have sex on the sofa in his office!
She sat straight up and tried to swing her legs from the couch. Only to realize Jarod’s hands were digging into her thighs, refusing to let her go anywhere.
“I can’t,” she whispered, refusing to look him in the eye. She kept her gaze focused on those tanned hands stretched across the top of her thighs. His hands were so big they almost made her legs seem thin. Dear God, what would they feel like on her breasts? She had big breasts. Like really, big breasts, but she was pretty sure they would fit in his hands perfectly. He could knead them, squeeze them. Hard.
“Yes, you can, baby. Take a deep breath and look at me.”
Sara raised her gaze, looking straight into his brown eyes, now a smoldering amber.
It was almost painful for Jarod not to give into the primitive urge to just take Sara. Flip her over and pull her onto her hands and knees and slam inside her. No more preliminaries, no more foreplay, just desperately needed gratification of the senses. His wolf was torn as well. Both animal and man wanted to possess her. He breathed in deeply to steady himself, and bent over her, keeping his hands on her thighs so he wouldn’t give in to his baser desires.
His mouth touched hers, and he worked her mouth, pressing light, flexible kisses on her lips. She didn’t move her head away, didn’t try to avoid his touch, and he knew she was still with him. Just suffering from nerves.
Fuck, he thought, realizing suddenly why she was probably suffering from nerves. He pulled back until he could see her eyes.
“Are you a virgin, Sara?”
Her eyelids popped open. “What?”
“You need to tell me if you’re a virgin.”
Her teeth bit into the plush fullness of her bottom lip. Without really thinking, he bent forward again and took the lip between his teeth, sucking it into his mouth and biting gently into the soft flesh before releasing it. “Now tell me.”
“Yes.”
Fuck. His wolf was with him on this as well. Taking their virgin mate would be the most delicious thing the man and animal had ever tasted.
“Does that matter?” A frown appeared between her brows.
Fuck, yeah, it mattered. It mattered that his mate had never been touched by another male. That knowledge sent his wolf into a tailspin, panting, clawing at his chest to get out, to possess her now. His cock bobbed up and down, releasing some pre-cum. Damn, if he didn’t like that fact, too.
It mattered that he was going to have to take this even slower than he’d first thought and that made both the wolf and man howl in agony.
Worry clouded her pretty face, and he hurried to reassure her. “Oh, it matters, baby,” he said, his lips pulling back in what he hoped was a smile. “It matters a hell of a whole lot that my cock is the first one to slide through all the sweet cream I smell flowing out of your pussy. The only cock. Do you understand?” He couldn’t help the savage tone in his voice.
“Yes,” she whispered, her gaze holding his. She groaned, and her head fell back on her neck as if the weight of his words was more than she could bear. He took advantage of the motion and placed his lips on her neck right above the collar of her blouse, sucking the skin between his teeth and biting. Not hard, but hard enough to leave a mark just like he had on her lip. Licking his way up and across her throat, he tugged on
the lobe of her ear with his teeth. “Don’t worry. I’m going make this so good for you.” Another sharp nip and he was pulling back.
Immediately his hands went under the jumper and grabbed the waistband of her leggings. “Lift up.”
Obeying on instinct alone, Sara raised her hips, and he pulled her leggings off in one swift motion. The air felt cold on her overheated flesh and raised goose bumps all along her legs. After he’d tugged the garment off her feet, he was back.
“Lift your arms.” He was undressing her as efficiently as a mother would a child. The jumper came off smoothly, then her shirt. Turtlenecks, even mock turtlenecks, weren’t the easiest garments to remove yourself, but he had hers off without one embarrassing snag. She crossed her arms over her chest, more to hide the condition of her underwear than cover up her breasts. She was pretty sure that the women he slept with wore sexy, lacy underwear all the time. Expensive, exquisite silk as opposed to white cotton from the bargain aisle.
Jarod forgot to breathe as Sara was revealed. His greedy gaze roamed over her almost naked body. Tousled dark hair fell over one creamy shoulder, leaving the other bare. He wanted to lean forward and bite down hard, leaving his mark, over and over again. God, was he obsessed with marking her or what? He never wanted another male to look at her, but if one did, he wanted to make sure they knew she was taken.
Taken over and over again.
He heard her whimper and knew he needed to get this show on the road to speak. Overwhelm her with sensation, make her so lost in the moment that she forgot to be nervous. Forgot to second-guess her decision to sleep with her boss. For a brief moment, he debated telling her the truth. That they were mates. That there would be no one else for him—ever.
But he didn’t know how much she knew about mating. Would it frighten her, even more, to know she no longer had a choice as to who to give herself to?
With quick efficient movements, he had her bra and panties off, joining her clothing on the floor. Crawling up her body, he felt her shudder as his cock dragged along her legs, almost instinctively settling between her thighs. He covered her, bracing his weight on one arm, bent at the elbow, her hands trapped between them where she was still covering herself up. He cupped his other hand behind her hair, his fingers tangled in the thick blanket of her hair. He stared into her eyes, knowing she was seeing the animal riding the surface in his. Hers were a velvety, darker shade than normal, indicating her own arousal. He breathed deeply, filling his lungs with her sweet smell. “Open your legs, Sara.”
Alphas for the Holidays Page 99