Engaging the Boss (Heirs of Damon)

by Noelle Adams

  With great effort, he started to roll over.

  As soon as he lifted his weight from her, she whimpered in protest and raised her hips again. “No, no,” she mumbled, her cheek pressed against the pillow and her eyes still closed. “Don’t stop. I want it. Please. I want it.”

  She was awake now, he realized. Whether she was before or not, he didn’t know. He also didn’t know how awake she was. She was obviously aroused, but she might not even be conscious of who he was.

  If she was awake, she wasn’t likely to want him.

  “Jonathan, please,” she breathed. “I want you. Please.” Her hands fumbled until she was clutching the sheet beneath her with both hands.

  He groaned low in his throat, barely audible, as he rolled over her again, moving into the same position. If she wanted this, wanted him, there was no way he’d be able to stop himself.

  He pressed his groin into her soft, round ass, just as she was pressing it up toward him. They both huffed in pleasure. Then they did it again.

  A clumsy, half-asleep dry hump wasn’t exactly what he would have chosen, but he needed something, he needed her. And he would take what he could get.

  Then Sarah started shifting awkwardly beneath him, and he realized she was trying to take off her little cotton shorts. He helped her, which was only polite.

  At least, that was what his fuzzy brain told him.

  “Jonathan,” she whimpered, lifting her now bare bottom toward him again. “Please, please.”

  He reached down to feel her intimately, taking a few moments in his uncoordinated state to find and ascertain that she was really aroused, really wet. Then he smothered a groan, pulled his erection free of his underwear, and raised her bottom a little more so he could align himself at her entrance.

  “Yes, yes, I want it. Just like that.” She was still mostly on her stomach, with just her butt in the air, and he’d never wanted anyone more.

  He straddled her hips and pushed into her slowly, groaning silently at the intense pleasure of being enveloped by her hot, clinging channel. She moaned uninhibitedly as he maneuvered his way in, as if it felt just as good to her.

  He loved how much she seemed to want him, as if she couldn’t possibly hold back her response.

  When he began to thrust, it was in short, tight pumps by necessity, their position allowing nothing else. But she huffed in pleasure on each in-stroke, her hands scrambling for purchase in the bedding and her bottom eagerly rocking up to meet his thrusts.

  His whole body was so tense he was shaking with it, and he was vaguely conscious of the fact that he shouldn’t be doing this—he shouldn’t be fucking Sarah this way, half-asleep and without discussion or preparation. But he couldn’t help it. She obviously wanted it, and he couldn’t summon any sort of reasonable restraint.

  He braced himself on both arms above her, working his erection inside her in a way that produced the kind of agonizing friction he needed. He wasn’t sure how long it lasted—the urgent tangle of hot bodies, damp flesh, accelerating breath, and soft moans and whimpers from Sarah.

  Then her body tightened dramatically and she gasped, “Oh, God, oh, God, I’m gonna come.”

  His motion intensified as he thrust into her from behind, fast and hard. Then her body clamped down around the orgasm, and she cried out in breathy pleasure as she shook and shuddered beneath him.

  “Jonathan,” she rasped against the pillow. “So good. So good.”

  He kept thrusting even as she came down, too far gone to hold back his primitive need to claim her in any way he could, and soon she cried, “Oh God! Again!” as her body tightened up once more.

  She made a helpless sobbing sound as she came the second time, letting herself go to the pleasure without any restraint.

  She gasped out his name again as she came down and her body started to soften. He loved how she said it with a catch in the middle, as if she were too overcome to speak. “Jon-athan. Jon-athan.”

  He had almost come with her the second time, only the idea of this ending and his having to deal with the implications holding back the thread of his control.

  He didn’t want this to end. Not yet.

  He didn’t know what he would do when it was over.

  Chapter Five

  Sarah had never come during intercourse before—not once. It wasn’t that she couldn’t come at all, but it had always been either from oral or manual pleasuring before or after the main event. So, even if she had been in a thinking state, she never would have expected to come the way she had. Twice.

  She was dazed and relaxed—and just starting to get self-conscious in her ungainly position—when Jonathan pulled out and rearranged her body so she was on her back beneath him. She parted her legs to make room for him, bending up her knees and pulling his upper body down farther.

  Much more comfortable, she sighed in pleasure when he nudged at her entrance and then slid himself in again. She was tighter around him now that she’d come.

  Jonathan made a breathy sound. It might have been her name said on an exhale. Then he started to move over her, inside her, against her. She made a silly sound in her throat as the friction triggered delicious sensations.

  Part of her knew this was crazy, knew she shouldn’t let him do this to her, knew it might be good at the moment but it was going to be really hard to get over. But that part of her was silenced by the roar of need and feeling that overwhelmed her.

  She knew she was awake, but it didn’t feel like she was awake.

  Sarah Stratford, awake in her right mind, didn’t do things like this. She didn’t have sex with Jonathan Damon in the middle of the night with wild, uninhibited passion.

  The fact that she was—she was—made the whole thing even hotter. Jonathan was bracing himself on straightened arms, little more than a dark shadow above her in the unlit room. But she knew he was looking down on her, knew the intent focus of his expression, in his eyes.

  He made love the way he did everything else, with absolute focus and instinct and skill.

  His hips were working urgently, and heat radiated off his body in waves. His breathing was fast and raspy, but otherwise he didn’t make any sounds.

  She rocked up to meet his thrusts, the beginnings of thinking awareness swallowed up again in the wave of pleasure and need.

  He wasn’t a selfish lover or even a slightly thoughtless one like Matt had been, trying for a while but then eventually chasing his own satisfaction. Jonathan was aware of her the whole time, recognizing what she wanted, what she needed, and giving it to her without hesitation. When she clutched at his ass, desperately wanting him to accelerate his steady thrusts, he did. When she squeezed her fingers down to rub her clit, the intense pressure of the pleasure becoming almost torturous, he adjusted to make room for her hand.

  She moaned as she rubbed herself, the added sensations pushing her over the plateau.

  “Yes,” she heard herself panting, “So good, Jonathan. So good. Faster.”

  He thrust into her faster, and she bent up her knees as she felt another orgasm building inside her. She gave a helpless sob as it finally broke, slamming into her in rhythmic waves. She clawed his shoulders with her fingernails, trying to hold on as she rode out the pleasure with her hips.

  “Jon-athan,” she gasped, when the intensity started to fade and a delicious relaxation took its place. Her body felt almost limp as the tightened muscles let go. “So good. So good.”

  He grunted, evidently in response to her words. But he was still hard inside her, and she couldn’t help but wonder if he was always such a stallion or if he was making a special effort for her.

  “Now it’s your turn,” she said, surprised when her voice was slightly cracked. She reached up and pulled him down into a kiss before she had a chance to think about whether it was a good idea.

  They hadn’t kissed earlier, just woke up fully aroused and started going at it. She had no idea if he even wanted to kiss her.

  He responded though. Immediately. H
is mouth moved against hers skillfully, eagerly, and she opened so his tongue could slip inside and tangle with hers. His hips started to rock as they kissed, easing into a gentle rhythm that matched the rhythm of his tongue.

  Then he broke off the kiss without warning, turning his head to the side and gasping loudly.

  She couldn’t see his face clearly, she couldn’t see his eyes at all, but she knew he was trying to hold back.

  She reached up and took his face in both of her hands, his bristles deliciously scratchy against her palms. “You’ve given me enough,” she said. “I want you to take what you want now.”

  She didn’t know if her words worked or if he was just too far gone. But he let out a smothered sound and pushed one of her knees up toward her shoulder, stretching her out farther and allowing him to sink more deeply inside her.

  They both moaned at the resulting sensations.

  He held her in that position as he started to move. He was too deep to really thrust, but he pushed into her. His whole body was clenched up like a fist, so tight he was almost shaking with it. And his breathing was ragged and loud in the otherwise quiet room.

  Sarah tried to process all of the sensations, but they were too deep, too strong, too much, too aching. It was mostly pleasure even though she was never going to be able to come like this. She didn’t even want to.

  “That’s right, that’s good,” she kept gasping as he rocked both of their bodies with the force of his thrusts. “That’s good, yes, please, take what you want.”

  She could feel as he got closer to climax. He fell out of rhythm and his panting turned into soft grunts. Her chest ached with emotion that almost matched the feeling in her body as he finally took what he needed.

  He didn’t cry out like she had, just made a half-suppressed sound in his throat. But she knew he’d come hard. He shuddered above her as it overtook him, and then he collapsed on top of her, dragging in thick gasps of air against her neck.

  He was heavy. And very hot. And she didn’t know if she was feeling his sweat or hers.

  She didn’t care.

  Her body was sated, relaxed. And her heart felt even better. Because she knew she’d given Jonathan something, something he hadn’t been able to get in another way.

  He’d needed her, and she’d met that need. And he’d given her something back.

  And it was so good.

  He didn’t move immediately. She could feel him softening until he slipped out of her body. Then it was really wet.

  They hadn’t used a condom.

  They hadn’t intended to do this at all.

  She could feel a soreness now, since he’d been inside her deep. And he felt even heavier than before. His breathing had slowed, but it wasn’t steady yet. His face was buried in her hair.

  It was two o’clock in the morning, and Sarah had just made love to her boss.

  It felt kind of like she needed to go the bathroom, but she didn’t want to move, didn’t want him to roll off her, didn’t want to lose his weight, the texture of his hair and skin.

  She wanted to do it again.

  She wanted him—in a way she never should.

  But he’d needed her too. She was sure of it.

  And that was something.

  * * *

  Jonathan was so wiped out from sex with Sarah that he fell asleep before he realized it.

  He hadn’t intended to. He never should have given into desire, but he had—and it seemed rude to go to sleep before they’d had a chance to talk about it and get things sorted out.

  So he’d been trying to get himself together—get his mind to work with something other than the blurry fog of satisfaction and relief and to find some appropriate words to say—but he fell asleep instead.

  Sarah must have fallen asleep too, since when he woke up she was still beside him, naked except for the little tank top she still wore. She was curled up next to him, her hair in her face and one of her arms draped over his belly.

  He liked how it felt there.

  But it was morning now—not the blurry darkness of the night. The room was lit by the sunlight peaking in around the drapes, and he could see her clearly.

  He hadn’t been able to see her very well last night. Just feel her. But he’d known even by touch that her body was the most sensuous, beautiful thing he’d ever experienced.

  He hadn’t been wrong. The sheet had slipped down to her hips, and he could clearly see the lush curves and dips of her form. She was so soft, made for touching. And, even now, he could barely resist.

  She was still sound asleep, her lashes spread out against her skin. She nestled against him more closely, as if she were getting cold.

  Automatically, he reached down to pull up the sheet and coverlet over her. Before he did, he was distracted by the most enchanting curve—the graceful dip at the small of her back, just as it curved up into her bottom. Despite how hard he’d come a few hours earlier, his body took interest in that spot.

  Her skin was pale. Pale and perfect. A delicate contrast to the vibrancy of her hair.

  He pulled up the covers, hiding her from his sight.

  It wouldn’t do to get fully aroused again, since he wouldn’t be able to do anything about it.

  Covering her up didn’t do much good, though. He could still feel her. Her breasts were pressed up against his side, and her arm still clung to him, as if she didn’t want to let him go even in her sleep.

  After a few minutes, when no amount of mental lecturing could dampen his arousal, he pulled out from under her arm and climbed out of the bed.

  He went immediately to take a shower, trying to rinse off the feel, the smell, the taste of her. Knowing she was still mostly naked in bed, if he couldn’t wash her off him, he wouldn’t have a chance of getting out of the room without taking her again.

  It was a much longer shower than usual by the time he felt recovered and more like himself. He shaved while he was in the bathroom, and then put on one of the bathrobes provided in the guestrooms, since he hadn’t thought to bring any clothes into the bathroom with him.

  Sarah was awake when he came back into the room. She’d pulled her pajama shorts back on and was sitting on the side of the bed, her arms crossed over her belly.

  Her hair was a tousled mess, and her eyelids heavier than normal, making her look even sexier than she usually did.

  But her face was sober, and her eyes were worried as she looked up at him.

  He went over to sit beside her on the bed.

  He wanted to ask her how she felt, whether she was all right, whether he’d ruined everything by giving into lust in the dark of the night.

  What he said was, “We should have used a condom.”

  She swallowed and glanced away from him. “Yeah.”

  He’d said the wrong thing as he always did. He knew he had. He couldn’t tell if she was annoyed or hurt, but something was wrong. He felt awful—like a selfish ass—and he needed to know if she was all right. “Are you—” His voice broke, since he felt so concerned.

  Before he could continue, she’d turned back. “I’m on birth control. I just never went off it after Matt and I broke up. So we’re all right on that front. And I haven’t slept with anyone since Matt. So, as long as you’re…” She trailed off.

  “I’m healthy,” he said. He hadn’t had sex in longer than she had, but he didn’t say it. He still wanted to know if she was all right, but that part of the conversation seemed to have passed.

  He just wasn’t any good at this.

  “What do you—” She glanced down at her hands, which were twisting in her lap now. “What do you think we should do? About this?” She glanced back toward the bed, as if she needed to explain what “this” was.

  He knew very well what “this” was.

  Still feeling guilty and confused and strangely terrified, he began, “I shouldn’t have…I should have stopped us.”

  “I was awake too. As much as you were. We just weren’t thinking.” Her head was lowe
red now, her hair shielding her face from his view. It frustrated him, since he couldn’t tell how she was feeling.

  She’d sounded natural and casual enough. Maybe she was.

  He sat in silence and stared at the soft waves of her hair. He wanted this to be over. He wanted it to have never happened. He wanted to be back in his lab with a Sarah he knew and trusted, a Sarah that didn’t make him feel things he’d never felt.

  She finally looked up at him, her blue eyes searching his face. “We can just call it one of those things. A fluke. We can pretend it never happened. If you want.” Her voice lifted slightly at the end, making the words a question.

  It was exactly what he wanted. She didn’t seem hurt or disappointed. She was obviously not nursing a secret passion for him. It would be so much easier than trying to sort through everything he was feeling and make some kind of sense of it.

  They could go back to work, and he could find ways to try to make up for his lapse.

  “Okay.” Then, because he was still worried, he added, “If you’re sure. Everything is all right between us?”

  “Sure,” she said with a smile that was strangely bright. “I’m not about to claim this ring is for real or anything, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  That wasn’t what he was worried about. He was worried about hurting her, but she wasn’t acting hurt. So he gave her a half-smile. “It never crossed my mind.”

  “All right,” she said, “If we’ve got that taken care of, I’m going to take a shower.” When she stood up, one of her legs buckled, and she had to brace herself on the nightstand.

  He stood up quickly to support her, reaching out in concern.

  “I’m fine,” she assured him, pulling gently away from his arm. “Just a little sore.” She flashed him a smile as she limped toward the bathroom. “Not that anything happened last night.”

  ***

  Sarah cried a little bit in the shower, but she did so quietly and not for very long.

  It had been ridiculous for her to hope for anything else to happen. Jonathan was never going to want her for any more than a night. In the light of day, she was what she’d always been—his less-than-beautiful assistant. Smart and helpful but not particularly desirable in any way.