Coming In Hot Box Set

by Gina Kincade

  Feeling a bit like a ragdoll as he pistoned in and out of her at an almost impossible rate, she decided to twist the situation to her advantage. She could barely move, squashed as she was beneath his big body, so she didn’t even try. She just lay there and enjoyed herself; his thick cock invading her pussy, sending loud, rude squelching noises out into the room. The angle of his thrusts worked wonders on her clit. Add that to the scrape of his chest hair against her breasts and nipples, the pleasurable pain of her pinioned wrists and plundered mouth, and she was well on her way to another climax.

  Suddenly, Brett broke their kiss with an exhaled curse. A droplet of sweat fell onto her face. “I’m going to come, Samantha. I can’t—”

  “It’s okay,” she replied breathlessly. “I’m… close.” She was, too. Pleasure filled her every cell, passion overwhelmed her. The reality of their fucking was, as she’d so desperately hoped, even better than in her fevered dreams—both waking and sleeping.

  “Thank God for that.” Releasing one of her wrists, he slipped his hand between their bodies and pressed his thumb to her clit. Each movement of his hips now rubbed the pad of his thumb against her needy little bud, rocketing her towards orgasm. She clenched her teeth together, lifted her now-free hand to grip his bicep and held on for the ride.

  And Christ, was it a ride. She barely noticed the hard surface beneath her as the sounds of their ferocious fucking filled the air. Skin slapping against skin, growls, grunts, expletives… they became lost in a fog of overwhelming lust. Everything became lost. All she was aware of was their physical joining and the sensations it was sparking in her. Perfect, perfect sensations.

  A spring coiled tightly inside her abdomen. As it wound tighter and tighter, she tensed up, waiting. Moments later, the inevitable happened. The pressure released, in spectacular style. With a scream, she came—her cunt undulating wildly around Brett’s cock and waves of bliss overtaking her as she convulsed.

  She was vaguely aware of Brett making a loud noise, then the sensation of wet heat deep inside her. But it was nothing compared to the ecstasy raging through her. On and on it went, until it eventually sapped her energy, leaving her limp and wrung out, slumped against the table.

  Brett’s voice brought her back to awareness. “Told you,” he said smugly.

  She smiled. After that magnificent fuck and the resultant orgasms, she’d forgive him for being smug—though she had no intention of admitting it to him. “Told me what?” she managed. Her throat felt raw.

  “Told you you’d wear my name out.”

  “What? What on earth are you talking about?”

  “When you came. You called my name over and over.”

  She was just about to vehemently deny it when it came back to her. Somewhere, deep in that fog of lust, she had. She’d called out, unaware, or uncaring, of what she’d been doing.

  She cleared her throat, then immediately wished she hadn’t. Wincing, she replied, “Yes, well, seemed like I wasn’t the only one enjoying myself.”

  “Oh, don’t worry, you weren’t. Hold on, I’m just going to… do you have any tissues?”

  With a heavy bump, Samantha came back down to earth. “I do, but I’m not entirely sure how I’ll find them in the dark.”

  Sniggering, Brett disentangled from her. “This could be as much fun as the fucking.”

  “I doubt that.”

  “Yeah, me too. Just hang on, I’ll find my phone and we can use the torch on it.”

  She heard shuffling and muttering for a few seconds, then a horrendous jangling sound assaulted her ears. “Bloody hell!” She clutched her pounding heart.

  “Fucking hell, that’s spooky. Trying to find my phone and now somebody is bloody well ringing me.” More shuffling, a brief burst of light, then, “Hello?”

  Samantha heard a tinny voice from the other end of the line, but couldn’t tell what the person was saying.

  “Er, yes, I’m fine. Just stepped out for some fresh air, that’s all. Yep… yep… I’ll be back with you in jiffy. Okay. Bye!” There was a beep, then, “Shit!”

  “What?” With a considerable amount of effort, she sat up and shuffled forwards, trying to get her feet to the floor. “What is it?”

  More beeping. Then there was light, illuminating the space between them. “That was Andrew. Wanted to know where I was. I only went to the bathroom. He was getting worried, apparently. And the meal is about to begin.”

  “Bugger. We’d better get back in there.” She sighed, her body resisting the urgency her brain now felt. “I’m going to need a minute. You should go.”

  He’d been one-handedly scrabbling back into his clothes, but her words gave him pause. “Are you sure? I didn’t want to just… leave.”

  She shrugged, despite not being sure if he could see her in the torchlight. “It’s fine. Not like we can go back in there together, anyway. And I’m a grown up, I can look after myself.”

  Continuing to dress, Brett said, “I never doubted that for a second. Here.” He handed her her clutch bag. “Hold this for a moment?” He also passed her his phone, which she angled so he could see what he was doing.

  Silently, she enjoyed the view as Brett put on his shirt, covering up his delicious body. She committed the image to memory, knowing now that, despite her earlier determination, there was no way she’d be able to forget about what had just happened between them. Fucking him to get him out of her system seemed to have had the exact opposite effect.

  Fuck it all to hell!

  “Thanks,” he said, snapping her out of her thoughts. “Would you, uh, mind re-doing my bow tie, please? If I go back in there with it undone, it’ll look dodgy as hell.”

  Placing his phone into his outstretched hand, she then took the tie from him. Standing on jelly-like legs, she moved in front of him and did as he’d asked, trying hard not to take any notice of his proximity, of the warmth of his skin, of the scent of cologne and sex—mainly sex—that floated around him.

  “There you go,” she said, patting the tie gently. “Now off you go, dear boy, before Andrew sends a search party.”

  Hesitating briefly, he said, “Sure you’ll be all right?”

  “Positive. Flip the light on before you go, would you? But don’t you dare look back. I bet I’m in a right state.”

  Chapter Nine

  Brett slumped into a chair in the practice’s staff room, clutching a cup of coffee as if his life depended on it. His sanity certainly did. He’d just finished assisting Andrew with an emergency operation on a dog that thought chewing on sticks was a good idea. They’d been successful, thankfully, but it had been touch and go for a while, and the adrenaline that had been flooding his system throughout the incident was now seeping away, leaving him deflated and exhausted.

  He just needed a few minutes, a healthy dose of caffeine, and he’d get back to it. Andrew was just finishing up with the dog and updating its owner on the situation. Meanwhile, there were a couple of people with their pets in the waiting room—who’d already been en route, or unable to be reached by telephone as he and Andrew dealt with the emergency.

  By their very nature, emergencies threw everything completely out of whack. But Brett couldn’t deny that every once in a while, a shakeup of his routine was a good thing. Not that a dog’s life being in danger was a good thing, but something going wrong, something he needed to react to, and fast, made sure he didn’t get complacent. He needed to remain sharp, on the ball, at all times.

  The door opened, and he looked up to see Natasha. “I know, I know,” he said, lifting his cup of coffee, “I’ll be right out. I just need to… refuel and unwind for a moment after that.” He jerked his head in the vague direction of the operating theatre. “Things got a bit hairy in there, if you’ll pardon the pun.”

  Natasha gave a gentle smile. “Yes, I know. Good job, by the way. I wasn’t going to rush you, but…”

  “But what?”

  Scrunching her lips up, she replied, “Well, there’s a woman out there d
emanding to see you. Hasn’t even got an animal with her, but she keeps waffling on about Venus and calling me ‘dear girl’. Her voice sounds familiar, but she won’t tell me anything, just that she wants to see you.”

  Brett’s heart lurched uncomfortably, and he felt all the color drain from his face. There was only one person that could be.

  “Should I call the police?” Natasha asked.

  An image of Samantha being bundled into the back of a police car passed through Brett’s mind. He suppressed a smirk. Tempting. “No, no, of course not. It’s all right. I know who it is. I’ll get rid of her, don’t worry.”

  “Okay, if you’re sure… by the way, there’s only one patient out there now anyway, and Andrew won’t be much longer. One was only here to have her dog’s claws clipped, and Annalise took care of that.”

  “Great. Please tell her I said thank you.”

  “Will do.” She strode out, closing the door behind her.

  Brett gulped at his coffee, his panic and confusion rushing to the surface now he was alone. What in God’s name was she doing here? He hadn’t heard a peep from her since the charity fundraiser all those weeks ago—not that he’d expected to. After their encounter in the office room in the bowels of the venue, he’d hurried to the Gents’—where he’d been going in the first bloody place—relieved himself, rinsed his face, made sure he was presentable, then rushed back to the function room, taking his seat next to Andrew with what he hoped was a benign smile just as the first course was being served. He’d seen Samantha reappear out of the corner of his eye a good fifteen minutes later, but didn’t dare look in her direction, lest what happened be written all over his face.

  The rest of the evening had passed in a whirlwind of good food, fine champagne, dull conversation and boastful back-slapping. Brett had been glad to extricate himself as soon as was politely possible, eager for the sanctuary of his flat. Sanctuary, however, couldn’t erase what had happened, and he’d been plagued with erotic flashbacks ever since. He’d hoped that keeping his mind active and his hands busy with work would flush her out, but it hadn’t been a terribly successful exercise.

  And now she was here, at his workplace. How in the hell was he going to get out of this one? Word would get round, Andrew would ask questions, maybe put two and two together… and he still didn’t know why she was here, demanding to see him.

  Oh, holy fuck… what if she’s pregnant?

  A sour taste springing to his mouth, he poured the dregs of coffee into the sink, rinsed out his mug and prepared to face his doom.

  Pasting a smile onto his face, despite the sick feeling in his stomach, he headed out of the staff room and towards the waiting room.

  He’d barely stepped foot in the space when Samantha accosted him. “Dear boy!” she exclaimed loudly, slipping her arm through his, making him glad there weren’t more people around to witness his embarrassment, “I’m so glad you’re here. I need to talk to you about Venus. Is there somewhere we can go?”

  “Um, yes, of course. Please, Ms Hanson-Bishop, come this way.” What the fuck was she playing at? No way was she here to talk to him about her horse—she’d been vocal enough about his lack of superiority compared to Andrew, so why would she ask him rather than his boss?

  He led her to his examination room, mentally cursing as he became aware that his body was reacting to her proximity. Not the time, Brett. Not the place. Not the woman!

  His smile remained on his face only until the door closed behind them. Then he spun to face her, letting his fears and irritation spill over. “What the hell are you doing here, Samantha? I know you don’t think much to me or my veterinarian skills, but I am a professional, and my clients see me as such. You waltzing in here like you own the place and dragging me off to ‘talk about Venus’ does not make me look professional. Couldn’t it have waited until I’m off-duty, and, more importantly, off the premises? You could have phoned!”

  Her face fell briefly, but then her expression was replaced by one of annoyance. “Would you have spoken to me on the telephone? And besides, I only have the numbers for Andrew, and for the practice. Therefore we’d have been in almost the same situation we are now. Except in this situation, you can’t hang up on me.”

  Striding away and dropping into a chair for the second time in less than ten minutes, Brett lowered his head into his hands. He hardly dared ask the question, but at the same time he needed to get this over with. “So what is it? What do you want from me? Shared custody? You can’t possibly need money.” He peered up at Samantha through his splayed fingers.

  A crease appeared between her eyebrows, and her eyes narrowed. Then the penny dropped. She covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes now wide. “Oh my God,” she said, the words barely discernible. “You think I’m…” She dropped her hand, but lowered her voice. “You think I’m pregnant.” She let out a burst of laughter. “Don’t be ridiculous. I told you that was impossible. And if you didn’t believe me at the time, then shame on you for fucking me without protection.”

  The relief coursing through his veins made him dizzy for a second or two. Shaking his head, then straightening up, Brett said, “So what are you doing here? I’m assuming you didn’t just come here on a whim.”

  “You don’t know me very well, but I suspect you know enough to realize I never do anything on a whim. Well… present company excepted, of course.” She smirked.

  He rolled his eyes. “So…”

  She gazed at him for several long moments, making him fidget. Then all the playfulness and mirth seemed to seep from her body. She sagged, then took a couple of steps closer to him. “Okay, if you insist. I was just trying to lighten the mood. I just… I’m not pregnant, all right? Absolutely, categorically not. Never going to happen. Trust me, we damn well tried. So now that’s out there, the real reason I’m here is you.”

  “Yes, well, that much is blatantly bloody obvious.” He bristled, his tone harsh, despite the fact as much of his annoyance was aimed at himself as it was her. Or, more specifically, at his libido, which was still reacting very favorably to her presence. He was glad of his long white coat, which conveniently covered his burgeoning erection. “Do you think you could possibly get to the point? Preferably before the waiting room starts overflowing into the car park?”

  Folding her arms, she shot him a glare. “You know, between the two of us, I thought I was the bitchy one.”

  “Samantha.”

  “Stop bloody interrupting me then! God, I wish I’d never bothered now. You’re like a stroppy, sulky child, Brett Coulson. You know what, forget it. I think I should just leave.” She turned her back to him and all but stomped towards the door.

  Suddenly, Brett saw red. Hardly knowing what he was doing, he leapt out of the chair and covered the space between them in two strides. He slammed his hand against the door, preventing her from opening it.

  Samantha spun around, eyes blazing with fury and face flushed. Her voice dripped with venom as she said, “Get your hand off that door, young man, and let me out immediately.”

  Blood thundering through his veins and pulse racing in his ears, he locked the door, then pressed his other hand to the cool wood, effectively trapping her between his arms. Leaning in close, he murmured, “Or what?”

  Chapter Ten

  A trickle of juices seeped into Samantha’s knickers, and she closed her eyes in frustration. Now was really not the time to be getting horny.

  How had it all gone so wrong? After weeks of going over what had happened between them, her feelings to-ing and fro-ing, she’d finally come to the conclusion that she had to see him, to talk to him. In spite of all the ticks in the “cons” box when it came to her and Brett, she could just not shake off the experience and forget about it. About him.

  So here she was, hoping to settle the matter once and for all. If they could discuss things, maybe they could figure something out. What that something would be, she had no idea. All she knew for sure was that she couldn’t go on like this, no
t for one moment longer.

  And yet she’d been about to walk away. He just made her so mad. She hated it, hated how he could make her emotions fluctuate seemingly at the drop of a hat. One second she wanted to slap his gorgeous face, repeatedly, the next she wanted to drag him to bed and drink her fill of his luscious body.

  But then, there was that saying… there’s a fine line between love and hate.

  She didn’t love him. Of course not—nobody fell in love after meeting someone only twice. But she didn’t hate him, either.

  It seemed she was dancing on the spectrum somewhere in between.

  And, she suddenly remembered, she was sandwiched between him and a locked door, trying to sort out her muddled thoughts, when the best thing to do would be to say them out loud. That was the only way anything was going to get sorted between them.

  With a Herculean effort, she took a deep breath and opened her eyes. “Brett, this is ridiculous. We need to sort this out.”

  “Sort what out?” He narrowed his eyes, but she could still see the anger glinting there. A frisson of fear ran through her.

  “This… this thing between us. The thing that led us to fuck like rabbits in a pitch black office room at a charity fundraiser. Much as it irks me to admit it, I’ve barely been able to think about anything else since. Rather than it being a one-off knee trembler, never to be repeated or even thought of again, I’ve found it merely whetted my appetite for more. Ignoring it didn’t work, so I’m here to find out if you, er, reciprocate those feelings. And if so, what the hell do we do about it?”

  She dropped her gaze from his blue eyes to his lips. Lips that she’d felt on hers, lips that had brought her intense pleasure. Addictive pleasure.

  As though he’d read her mind, Brett leaned in closer still and captured her mouth with his. And it seemed he had no intention of starting off gently—not that she wanted him to. Immediately his tongue prized her lips apart and delved between them, plundering her mouth. Possessing it.