by Eve Langlais
Hunter shook his head. “You’re too much. I like where you’re headed, though–I have to give you that much. I’m the sort of man who is married to his job, though. It always comes first.”
“Mmm, not true. Every time now, I’ve been the one to cum first.”
Hunter frowned until he saw the twinkle in her smile. He laughed. “Dirty girl.”
“Only in the bedroom,” she promised. “A lady in public.”
“And what do you get out of this? This is poor negotiating on your part.”
“I get you,” she said before she stretched her neck to give him a kiss. She cuddled back up against his side and draped her leg over his hips. She wiggled it against his flaccid penis and let out a soft giggle when it pulsed between them.
“That’s it!”He laughed, embellishing his words so she knew he was joking. “You’re one of those gold digging women trying to marry into money! Trading good looks and hot sex for a free ride.”
“Hot sex? Please! I left hot at the North Pole!” Emily said.
Hunter chuckled and fell silent as her words worked their way through his mind. She was a very energetic and determined woman. He admired that about her. That and her endless desire to please him. Even pushing a little beyond what he thought he was comfortable with when it came to being pleased. It wasn’t just the sex; it was her showing up tonight and her doing everything she could to distract him over the weekend so she could spend more time with him.
But was that too much? He was the man he was with the house, car, and job he had because he kept his women distant. He never strung them on: each one knew exactly what they were getting into. A short but luxurious ride. Emily wasn’t the first to challenge that and push her boundaries, but she was the first who had managed to get away with it.
“I got a job offer,” she mentioned in a casual tone. “Kind of funny, I didn’t even interview for this one.”
He felt some of the tension in his neck release. He hadn’t known it was building but knowing she was serious about getting a job of her own eased him. “Oh yeah? That’s great. Was it word of mouth or a friend or something?”
“Something,” she said. “Tiffany said she got a promotion and needs to find a replacement.”
Hunter’s eyes snapped open and he picked his head up to look at her. “No, don’t take it.”
She sighed through her nose. “What? Why?”
“I don’t fuck the people I work with.”
Emily gasped and looked away from him. “That’s good, in a boss. But is that all we’re doing, fucking?”
He winced and dropped his head back. “Sorry, that was a poor choice of words. I don’t get involved in relationships with people at the firm. Not the kind of relationships that lead to flashers stopping by my house and having their way with me, at least.”
“I see,” she said and then hesitated. “Nobody has to know about it.”
This was why he didn’t do relationships. Well, it was one reason. His monthly getaways and need to be free to do as he pleased another. He couldn’t say that, though. Emily, or any woman he’d ever met, wouldn’t understand that. “What if things don’t work out?”
“What if they do?”
He huffed and changed tacks. “All right, what if they do? How will that look around the firm? How will others look at you and what will they say and do behind your back? No, it’s not something I will allow.”
Emily wouldn’t let it go. “Your company has a policy about dating co–workers?”
“No, I do,” he said. “As do the other partners.”
“Oh.”
“I have a lot of clients in a lot of good companies around Detroit. Perhaps I could talk to some and see if anyone’s hiring for you.”
“Um, okay,” she said. “Or, if you won’t let me work, you could just take care of me so I’m always ready for you at the drop of a hat?”
He heard the teasing in her tone and took it to mean she’d let the matter drop. For now, at least. He was surprised; as tenacious and persistent as she’d been with him, he expected her to fight harder about the job. Or was she just testing him about the job? Maybe she didn’t want to work, but she wanted to feel him out to learn his thoughts? He fought the urge to scowl. Women were too damned complicated!
He was distracted by the feeling of her fingers rubbing across the dark hair on his chest and following it down his stomach. She paused, pressing lightly against his abdomen and giggling a little while she explored. “What are you doing?” he asked.
“Just making sure.”
“Making sure? Of what?”
“Your abs,” she said before she shifted and leaned down to kiss his stomach. She looked up at him and shrugged. “I’ve never seen abs like this in real life. I had to make sure they weren’t Photoshopped.”
Hunter let his head drop back onto his pillow and laughed. “You’re crazy, you know that?”
“Mm hmm,” she agreed. She kissed the bumps and valleys on his stomach twice more before she said, “Now hush–my mother told me not to talk when my mouth is full.”
Hunter’s brow furrowed. He picked his head up as he said, “Your mouth’s not–oh!”
He watched Emily wink past the twinkle in her eye as she finished sucking his spent length between her lips. He didn’t expect he’d be ready again this soon but the way she hummed and used her tongue and lips on him made him more than willing to find out.
Emily kept her eyes on his while she continued to restore the blood flow to his second brain. Her fingers dropped to tickle and tease the skin between his legs. Soon Hunter reached the point where he felt he could pound nails into concrete and reached for her. “Let’s put that to proper use.”
Emily wrapped her fingers around the base of his shaft and shook her head slightly. She slurped her way up and off him and continued to use her hand to stroke him. “Not this time. This is all about you. A preview of, um, coming attractions.”
Hunter grinned and then gasped when she dropped her mouth back down on him. Emily worked her mouth on him with the skill and energy of a Las Vegas prostitute with a methamphetamine addiction. She reached up with her hands, sliding them over the contours of his abs and ribs. She rubbed across his hard chest, dragging her nails across his nipples and then sliding them back down his arms until she grabbed his hands in hers. She pulled his hands to her head and left them there, his fingers intertwined with her hair.
Only then did Emily close her eyes and tilt her head to fully focus on the pleasure she was providing him. Hunter growled and fought to keep from sinking his fingers into her scalp or grabbing her hair and pulling on it. Her hair in his hands filled him with more than a sense of power; it added a distraction that let her work magic on him. Hunter groaned and stiffened, his thoughts wavering between telling her and seeing just how serious she was.
The muscle contortion in his legs spread up his body and left him unable to move as he peaked. He began to tremble and then grunted out the breath he held in time with the pumping of Emily’s hand and her skillful suction and swallowing movements.
He collapsed back on the bed while Emily focused on cleaning him up. She crawled back up his body and lay down and snuggled against him. She kissed his chest twice and said between them, “That was fun.”
Hunter grunted.
“That wiped me out, though,” she admitted and then yawned. “I’m exhausted.”
He chuckled. “Shouldn’t I be the one saying that?”
She shifted a little, using his shoulder as a pillow and allowing his arm to slip around and cradle her so his hand rested on the small of her back. He started rubbing slowly.
“It was a huge turn–on,” she admitted. “I guess you didn’t see where my other hand was?”
Hunter roused himself from his post–orgasmic stupor and turned his head to look at her. “What?”
“That was supposed to be for you,” she murmured into his side. “But damn you, I still got off first.”
Chapter Eleven
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nbsp; “Good morning,” Hunter said as he walked past his secretary’s desk. “Anything going on this morning I should know about?”
“No, sir,” Mercedes said. “You must have got stuck in the same traffic I did this morning. I just got in myself.”
“Traffic,” he grunted in agreement. Traffic had nothing to do with it. The truth was he’d taken Emily back to her place this morning and made sure they arrived late enough Tiffany would be gone. He hadn’t done it because he didn’t trust her at his place alone; he did it because it would be way too easy for him to get used to coming home to her treating him the way she claimed she wanted to.
He walked into his office and set his briefcase down on his desk before moving around to collapse in his seat. He was tired, but in a worn–out and happy sort of way. She’d even taken the edge off his growing need to hunt. It was still there, lurking in the back of his brain, but she’d drained him in many ways.
Hunter summoned up the energy to lean forward and open up his drawer to look for a pen. He stopped and stared at the frilly white lace crumpled up in the drawer. The scent of woman reached his nose and caused him to breathe in through his nose. It wasn’t just woman: there were hints of flowery body sprays, detergents, and other cleaning additives but those were subtle and faint. The secondary aromas were easily overpowered by the arousal of the whimsical thong’s owner.
Hunter reached out and picked them up. He looked them over, studying them, and let them rest in the palm of his hand. Not only were they still warm, he was certain they were still moist. Fresh. He inhaled again, sending a shiver down his spine and leaving his skin tingling. He knew the scent: it was as obvious as a signed picture. Tiffany had left him a present.
Hunter crumpled them up in his fist and sighed. This was too much. He reached for his phone and waited for Mercedes to pick up. “Mercedes, would you have Miss Ackers come and see me, please?”
“Right away,” Mercedes said and hung up to take care of the task.
Hunter shoved the garment in his pocket and unlatched his briefcase. He took out his laptop and papers and arranged them on his desk for the day, and then put the case on the floor beside his desk just as someone knocked on the door of his office. He looked up and saw Tiffany standing in the open doorway.
“You needed something, Mr. Wynn?”
“Please,” he said while motioning to the chair she’d become a frequent visitor in. “Come in and shut the door.”
Tiffany nodded and shut the door before walking over and taking the seat. Today she had on a loose–fitting peach–colored skirt that fell below her knees and a white blouse that not only had a collar, but was buttoned high enough it only showed a hint of cleavage. “What can I do for you?” she asked after she sat down.
Hunter studied her for a moment before asking, “How is the job search going for your replacement?”
“I’ve found a good candidate and she’s supposed to come in this week for an interview,” she said.
“Oh?”
Tiffany nodded. “Do you remember the woman I brought with me to the Christmas party? Emily?”
Hunter paused before saying, “Dark hair? Yes, I think so.”
“Of course you do,” Tiffany said with a hint of a smile. “You never forget a face. Especially a pretty one.”
“There were a lot of faces that night,” Hunter argued.
“Well, she’s looking for a job after her last one ended. She’s a good worker. I went to college with her while I worked on my bachelor’s. Although after this weekend, I’m not sure what’s going on with her.”
“Sounds complicated.”
Tiffany nodded. “Very. She won’t tell me who, but she’s found herself a new boyfriend. Spent the weekend with him and last night.”
“Is that right? Does she do that often?”
Tiffany tilted her head. “Sleep over with her boyfriend?”
Hunter frowned. “None of my business. Not yours either, as HR manager.”
Tiffany blushed and dropped her gaze.
“But,” Hunter continued, “in the interest of making certain we hire dependable people, I want you to put your friendship aside and keep in mind that people known for spontaneous and possibly irrational decisions don’t make for the most reliable co–workers.”
Tiffany smiled as she looked up at him. “I thought creativity and breakthroughs required spontaneity?”
“In moderation and in the proper environments,” Hunter amended.
“Well, with Emily that’s not a concern. She’s about as stable as they come. Boring stable, I mean. She doesn’t let anyone in, boy–wise. I’m not sure how this guy managed it. Her last boyfriend was in college over two years ago! She broke up with him because she wanted to focus on her career after she graduated.”
Hunter grunted. “Sounds like she’s got herself straightened out at a young age. Those kinds of people are good as long as their goals align with ours.”
“I think they will, but we’ll see,” Tiffany said.
“Good. Now how are the other things going? Policies, reorganization? What about the dress code?”
Tiffany opened her mouth to respond and then stopped. She tilted her head the other way and asked, “The dress code?”
Hunter wasn’t certain if she was fighting a smile or not. He knew damn well the panties in his pocket were hers. He reached into his pocket and gathered the underwear in his fist. “Yes, I was wondering if these are covered by it?” He opened his fist and let the underwear fall on his desk.
Tiffany’s eyes widened and then jerked up to meet his. Hunter watched her, wondering if she’d break down, confess, or do something else entirely.”Oh my,” she said. “May I, um, may I see them?”
Hunter raised his eyebrow. “Well, they certainly aren’t mine.”
Tiffany laughed. She picked them up and spread them out by the waistband. There was enough fabric to be arrested on a public beach for indecent exposure instead of public nudity. “No, I hope not. I mean–never mind, that’s definitely not a sentence I should finish at work.”
Hunter smirked in spite of the situation. “Ah, you’ve found discretion.”
She stiffened. “Excuse me?”
“Tiffany, why do you think you have the position you have?”
She frowned. “I thought you said you’d been watching me?”
“Yes, and your performance has been excellent, with a few minor hiccups here and there along the way. Perfectly acceptable and never anything you may not have been justified in.”
Her pupils glanced back and forth as she processed what he said. He smelled her nervous sweat while she put two and two together. She placed the panties on his desk. “Mr. Wynn, are you suggesting that I did this?”
“Other than Mercedes, I haven’t had any prolonged conversations with any other woman for at least a couple of weeks.”
“Then maybe we should ask Mercedes,” Tiffany suggested.
“Really?”
Tiffany stood up and dropped her hands to the waistband of her skirt. She slid them around the back and twisted her arms. Hunter watched her, confused, and then his eyes widened when she shifted her hips and pushed one arm down. A moment later, her skirt slid over her hips and dropped to pool on the floor. She was wearing a garter belt attached to nude thigh–high stockings. Between the two, she wore a peach–colored thong with a filmy front panel and silky patterns along the edges.
She reached for the waistband of her panties and pulled it out enough to let it snap back against her skin. “As you can see, I put these on today,” she declared.
Hunter stared, his eyes burning into her crotch while he fumbled to find words. His nose was quivering as he drew in her scent, adding arousal to her anxiety.
“Would you like to call Mercedes in now?” Tiffany asked.
Hunter jerked his eyes up to hers and saw the fire in them. “I’m certain they aren’t hers,” he said.
“Any chance you might have put them in your desk after a dalliance and forgotte
n about them?”
“Hardly.” Hunter shook his head and forced out a chuckle. “I suppose we’ll just have to keep an eye out for anyone willing to do this. Bold behavior like this shouldn’t be hard to spot.”
“I should think not,” Tiffany agreed. “Is there anything else you needed, Mr. Wynn?”
Hunter glanced down and then back up to her face. “No, that was my chief concern.”
“So we’re good then?”
Hunter kept his eyes where they should be and nodded. “Yes, we’re good.”
She smiled and stepped to the side before turning and bending over to pick up her skirt. She bent at the hips, not the knees, and picked up her skirt. Hunter was forced to take in her flawless cheeks that were split only by the shadow of a peach–colored fabric. She twisted the skirt around and stepped into it one foot at a time, revealing teasing glimpses of her panty covered crotch. She zipped the skirt in the back and managed to fasten it with nimble fingers before turning and smiling at him.
“I know what I want, Mr. Wynn. You’ve shown me that you’re watching, so I’m willing to do whatever it takes. I want what you can give me.”
Hunter’s eyes widened. Was she talking about work or something else? “I think we should all be watching.”
She smiled. “Thank you, Mr. Wynn. Let me know if there’s anything else I can do for you.”
Hunter grunted as she exited his office and shut the door behind her. He blinked, still too stunned by her blatant behavior to know how to handle himself. His eyes fell on the panties and he reached for them. He lifted them to his nose and sniffed again. Yes, it was her scent, he was sure of it.
He jerked his eyes to the door. She’d asked him if he put them in his drawer. How had she known they were in his desk? And what had she claimed–she put the underwear she’d shown him she was wearing on today. Today could have been just before she walked into his office, for all he knew.
Hunter smirked and closed the underwear in his fist again. She’d covered her ass with her response–even as she’d uncovered her ass to prove it. And what an ass it was. He’d had a woman tell him once that she only wore sexy clothes like that when she needed an edge and wanted to feel sensual. Was that why Tiffany wore what she wore, or was there another reason? Was she doing it because she really did know what she was doing?