by HELEN HARDT
She gasps, looking over her shoulder. “You didn’t—”
“All in good time. I needed to be inside you for a minute. Now I need something else.”
“What?”
“Did you forget you’re not supposed to be talking?” I slap her ass, and then I reach past her ass cheeks and I tap her clit.
Again. And again. Until it’s no longer a tap but a soft smack.
I’m giving her just enough with each slap to push her slightly toward the peak.
Until— “Ah!” she cries out.
Yes, she’s climbing, but she won’t reach the top yet. I slide my tongue between her legs and lick the juices coating her thighs. Then I glide forward, caressing her slick folds and then her clit. I swirl my tongue around it.
She melts against the granite, and finally, I feel her willingness to let me control her orgasm.
Which makes me want her climax as much as she does.
But it will be all the sweeter if we both wait.
The intensity of the emotion coiling inside me surprises me, threatens to overwhelm me. I could so easily slide a finger inside her, pluck at her G-spot, and send her spiraling outward, force her to endure climax after climax.
But not yet.
I probe her pussy and her ass with my tongue, keeping her right at the tip of the peak, but not letting her jump.
I love the control. But even more, I love that she’s letting me have it. Her intense flavor, her responsiveness, her very essence consumes me.
All of me.
My cock is aching and throbbing, but I’ll wait for my release.
I’ll wait, because Skye is so delicious, so lovely, so warm and sweet under my touch.
Yes, yes, yes.
It’s time.
I slide a finger inside her while I lick her asshole. She moans her pleasure.
“Skye,” I say, my voice low as I thrust my fingers into her and massage that velvety place inside while, with my other hand, I find her clit. “Come. Now.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
She bursts.
Garbled words float from her mouth to my ears. She clamps her hands against the edge of the marble countertop. Her pussy tightens, loosens, tightens, loosens—all on my finger, and I’m so in tune to her pleasure that I swear to God, I feel like she’s coming on my cock.
“Braden!” she cries out. “Yes, Braden, Braden!”
I continue my chant. “Come. Now. Come. Now.”
I pull another climax out of her and then another. She’s limp against the granite countertop.
“That’s right,” I say. “Keep coming. Give me another one.”
Each times she clamps around my fingers, I want to give her more. I want to take her to the heavens, to paradise. I want her to know, in her soul, that only I can give her what she’s feeling at this moment.
“Give me more, baby. More.”
Again she responds to my command. Again. And again.
Oh, yes. There’s a submissive inside this woman just dying to burst out. How many orgasms will she give me? Who will tire first? Will she?
Or will I?
I know I won’t. It’s become a competition.
A competition I will win. Hands down.
“Keep going,” I urge. “Again.”
She braces herself once more against the counter, still coming all over my hand. My whole wrist is wet with her juice. It dribbles down my forearm, wafts to my nose, and I inhale her potent perfume.
“One more, Skye.”
“Can’t,” she grits out.
“You can.”
“No. Please. I can’t. Stop.”
Point. And. Match.
In a flash, I replace my fingers with my cock, ramming into her. I thrust and thrust and thrust, my groans a hum of vibration around the bubble of lust encircling us.
I fuck her hard and fast, again and again, until I plunge deeply into her. “God! Skye!”
I come quickly and urgently, giving everything to her with that last thrust. My whole body throbs in time with my cock. My blood boils. My flesh prickles.
All the while, her hands stay glued to the countertop.
I remain embedded in her, reveling in the euphoria floating around us like an invisible dome.
And I think, for a split second, that I never want to be without her in my life. Damn.
After a few minutes, I pull out and zip and snap my pants.
Still, she doesn’t move.
“You may move now,” I say. “Christopher will drive you home.”
She stays in position for a few seconds before she turns to face me, her pants and underwear still around her knees. “You said you’d never kick me out of your home again.”
“That’s true. I did.” I walk out of the kitchen but look over my shoulder. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you like. I left my business meetings to get back here, so I have a lot to do. I’ll be in my office working.”
Skye pulls up her undies and pants, while I mourn the loss of her naked pussy. I want Skye here. I would love to wake up next to her again.
But I need to maintain control as much as she does. Much more, actually. And with Skye…my control is hanging precariously by a thin thread.
I text Christopher quickly, thankful he decided to stay in tonight.
Are you available? Skye needs a ride home.
Be down in a minute.
Great. Thanks.
And that’s that.
I ignore the part of me that wants her to stay.
I ignore the part of me that wants to throw her over my shoulder, take her to my bed, and make love to her all night long.
I ignore the part of me that wants to say those words—words I’ve never said to a woman, words I never thought I’d even consider saying.
I ignore all of it, because if I don’t, I’ll be walking straight into a whirlwind I’m not even close to ready for.
Then I head into my home office, leaving Skye to wait for Christopher.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
I’m restless the remainder of the night. I didn’t lie to Skye when I said I had work to do. I always have work to do. But it wasn’t because of cutting my trip short. I delegated that work, and the team in Manhattan will get the job done. If Foster McCain is a problem, I’ll go back, but I have full faith in Dimitri to handle it.
I fire up the computer and sit down to go over tomorrow’s agenda when my phone buzzes.
It’s my brother.
“Yeah?” I say into the phone.
“Good evening to you, too,” Ben says.
“Sorry. It’s late. What’s up?”
“It’s nine thirty, Braden. You’re always up until midnight, and you rise at six a.m.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Sorry.” I shouldn’t be short with Ben. None of this is his fault. It’s not like he waved some wizard’s wand and hurled Skye Manning into my life to throw it into chaos.
“So hey,” he says, “I just got a call from Stamos in Manhattan.”
“And…?”
“Well, once I went outside and convinced myself that pigs weren’t flying and glaciers weren’t rising from hell freezing over—”
“Ha-ha. I assume he told you I came home.”
“Yeah, and he wanted to check with me and make sure it was really what you wanted. To which I replied, ‘How the fuck should I know? This is the first I’m hearing of it.’”
“Sorry, bro. I didn’t mean to leave you out of the loop.”
“So you’re finally delegating, huh? What’s the deal, Bray?”
“And you’re opposed to this why?”
“I didn’t say I was opposed. Hell, I’m the one who’s been after you for years to quit micromanaging everything. But there’s got to be a reason.”
“Not nec
essarily.”
“Give me a break. For you to do a full one-eighty like this, there’s a reason, and I’m guessing she’s got one hell of a magic pussy.”
Anger slides along the back of my neck. My brother’s not saying anything off-brand, but it irks me that he’s right.
But it’s not Skye’s pussy—though she has a pretty spectacular one. It’s not her sexy lips or her great rack. It’s not her gorgeous brown eyes. It’s not her talent or her intelligence. It’s not anything specific about her.
It’s more about me and my reaction to her. My feelings for her—how she’s crawled under my skin, challenging my body and my mind.
“It’s Addison Ames’s assistant, isn’t it?” Ben says.
“She has a name,” I say. “It’s Skye.”
“Interesting that you’re not denying it.”
Why bother? My brother knows me as well as anyone. No one knows the real Braden Black. I’m not even sure I do sometimes. But Ben knows me pretty well. We’ve been brothers for thirty-three years, and he was with me the night the whole Addison Ames thing started.
“No,” I say succinctly. “I’m not denying it.”
“Then you should know I had dinner with Apple tonight.”
“For fuck’s sake. Didn’t you just fuck her a few days ago?”
“Dinner, Bray. We had dinner tonight. We didn’t fuck. The only reason I bring it up is because she ran off at the mouth about you and Addie’s assistant—”
“Skye,” I say. “Her name is Skye.”
“Christ, okay. Skye. Anyway, apparently Addie’s really freaked out now. Thinks Skye’s after her job or something.”
“That’s not true.”
“Are you sure? How well do you know this woman, Braden?”
Not as well as I’d like to.
Damn.
“Well enough,” I say. “She wants to be a photographer. What do you see in Apple anyway? That black hair of hers is freaky.”
“What can I say?” Ben laughs. “She’s hot. And she’s a good person. She’s not her sister.”
No, she’s not. I need to remember that. Back when all the shit was going down between Addie and me, Ben and Apple were on my side.
“Look,” Ben says. “I think it’s great if you’ve found someone you care about. Really. And if she’s the reason you’re taking a step back and doing some delegating that’s long overdue, I’m all for it. There’s just one thing that concerns me.”
“Yeah? What’s that?”
“You barely know her.”
He’s not wrong. “You’re right.”
“Wow. Should I check the sky again? Will I see flying swine?”
I chuckle at that one. “I know what I’m doing, Ben.”
“Will you take her to the club soon?”
“When she’s ready.”
“I’m happy for you,” Ben says.
“What for?”
“Sounds like you’re falling in love.”
God, those words… “I’m not falling in love. Like you said, I barely know her.”
“That doesn’t always matter. There’s no timetable for love.”
I scoff. “Like you’d know.”
He laughs. “I suppose you got me on that one. All right. I just wanted to check in. Since you’re not in Manhattan, I’ll see you at the office in the morning.”
“I’ll be there.” I end the call and throw my phone on the desk.
My own words haunt me.
I’m not falling in love. Like you said, I barely know her.
It’s not the words so much as the fact that, as I replay them in my mind, their cadence like a snare drum, they seem…off to me.
Off as in I’m not sure I truly mean them.
Then I whisk the thought from my mind and do what I do best when I don’t want to think about something.
I work.
Chapter Forty
I work far into the night and finally hit the sheets at four a.m. I allow myself an extra hour of sleep in the morning, rising at seven instead of six.
I don’t have any appointments anyway. As far as the office knows, I’m still in New York.
Once I arrive at work and let Claire know I’m available if anyone needs me, I head into my office.
A few hours later, Claire leaves for an early lunch, so my calls come straight to me from Reception. When the phone buzzes, I hit the speaker button. “Yes?”
“Mr. Black, I have Skye Manning on the line.”
My heart does a little flip-flop just at her name. What the hell is wrong with me? I’ve purposefully kept my mind Skye-free since my call from Ben last night.
“Sure,” I say. “Put her on.” A click. Then, “Good morning, Skye.”
“Hi, Braden.”
My breath hitches just hearing her voice.
Fuck.
“I’m sorry to bother you at work, but I got the contract with Susanne Cosmetics, and I was wondering if you knew a good, reasonably priced lawyer who could review it for me.”
“Email it to me. I’ll review it.”
“But you’re not—”
“An attorney? True, but I’ve reviewed my share of contracts. I also have four attorneys here in the office who can help me with the legalese if necessary.”
“Braden, I didn’t call you to give you work. I’m perfectly willing to pay an attorney.”
“I have the best attorneys here at corporate.”
“None of which I can afford, I’m sure.”
“Did I say you had to pay?”
“No, but—”
“Forward it to me. I’ll be in touch. Goodbye.”
Yeah, I was short with her. I have to take a step back.
For God’s sake, I cut a business trip short for this woman. I agreed to “date” her. I’m letting her call me her boyfriend.
I cannot and will not let my infatuation with Skye Manning affect my work.
As for her contract? It will take me ten minutes to review and pronounce sufficient. There’s no need for her to pay for an attorney, not when I’m perfectly capable of reading the document and offering advice.
I check my phone. It’s noon, so I order lunch to be brought in.
Just as it arrives, Claire returns. She walks in carrying the containers. “I’ll get this set up for you.”
“Thanks,” I mumble, my nose in my phone.
Claire sets a bare spot on my desk with a ceramic plate and stainless steel utensils. I hate eating out of takeout containers with plastic flatware. The damned forks always break. Ben says it’s because I spear my food like I’m spearing a fish. Whatever. I’m worth a billion dollars, and I’m not going to use plastic utensils. Yeah, I said it.
Claire’s phone buzzes, and she looks up.
“Don’t worry,” I tell her. “Finish up in here. It’s lunchtime. Whoever it is can call back.”
She raises her eyebrows at me.
Man, I am going soft.
She finishes setting up while my phone buzzes. “Yes,” I say.
“Mr. Black, Skye Manning is here to see you,” says the floor receptionist.
“Oh?” There goes that flip-flop of my heart again. Damn. “Sure, send her back.”
“All right, thank you,” she says.
I turn to Claire. “There’s a young woman on her way here. It’s okay to let her come into my office.”
“Sure, no problem, Mr. B.” Claire exits.
About a moment later, a knock at my door—a harsh knock.
“Come in.”
Skye opens the door and stands before me, wearing her trademark skinny jeans, this time with a black silk camisole and patent-leather pumps.
My cock responds to her mere presence.
“Skye,” I say.
“I brought th
e contract.” She pulls it out of her purse. “I thought maybe we could look at it together.”
“That couldn’t have waited until tonight?”
“We didn’t make any plans, and I thought—”
“You’d interrupt me at work?”
“You’re not working. You’re eating.”
“I’m always working, Skye. Close the door, please.”
She shuts it quietly, walks forward, and hands me the contract.
“Leave it on the desk. Have you eaten?”
She sets the document on the corner of the desk. “No.”
“Would you like half of mine?”
“No, that’s okay.”
“So you want to sit here and watch me eat?”
“Well…I guess.”
I stand, gather my containers of food, and move them to the table across the room. I walk back to my desk and push the call button on my phone. “Claire, could you bring in another plate, please?”
A few seconds later, Claire knocks at the door, enters, and sets another plate and utensils on the table.
“Thanks, Claire.”
She nods and leaves the office, closing the door behind her.
“Sit down and help yourself,” I say to Skye. “They always deliver enough for two or more people.”
“I didn’t come here to—”
“Eat, Skye. You’ll need energy for what I have planned for you this afternoon.”
“I—”
“You barge into my office with a contract you could have easily emailed me, looking sexy with your red lips parted. You think I’m not going to fuck you after that?”
“I… I didn’t mean—”
“You promised me your control, Skye, yet you hold on to it in any way you can. Don’t think I don’t know why you showed up here. It was in complete defiance. I told you to email the contract, so you did what you do. You got around my instructions.”
“You told me to forward the contract, Braden. You didn’t say to email it. So I forwarded it. In person.”
“You knew exactly what I meant.”
And I did mean it. This morning, I was determined to distance myself and my growing emotions from the woman standing before me.
Now, she’s here. Looking tantalizing and making me want her.
So much for distance.