The last thing she’d expected was for him to kiss her, but she couldn’t say she wasn’t glad. After all, the current of electricity moving back and forth between them was molten fire, burning a path straight through.
Of course she felt, but she’d spent the entire meeting trying to ignore it, convincing herself that it was better not to indulge. She wasn’t delusional, nor some misty-eyed intern who couldn’t tell heads from tails, and she had zero interest in becoming another conquest, another notch in his belt.
Yes, she knew all about his reputation as a ladies man, who didn’t?
He was Moxley fucking Denton, and women liked to talk especially about his prowess in bed. As soon as the thought entered her brain, a tingle went up her spine, deliciously working its way up, and her legs tightened in response.
As if he sensed her train of thought, he bit down on her bottom lip suggestively. She sighed, her arms going up around his neck and pushed herself closer, bridging the gap between them.
The only barrier between was the clothes on their back, yet she sensed a slow burn, hesitancy, with neither of them knowing they should cross that line, the point of no return.
Of course you shouldn’t. You’re here to do a job, not fuck the CEO, and if this blows up your face, you won’t be able to keep your job, one you’ve worked hard to keep.
Oh, but that mouth, those hands, nimble and capable, skating across her bare skin, feather-light and sure.
Stop thinking with your libido!
“Wait,” Sawyer whispered, placing her hands firmly on his chest. Moxley paused, his eyes flying open, searching hers in confusion. “We should talk.”
Moxley raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure about that? There are so many other things we could be doing.”
Sawyer expelled a harsh breath, yanking her hand back. “Look, I don’t want this to get weird.”
“This?” Moxley repeated, eyebrows knitted together.
“This can’t go anywhere,” Sawyer pointed out. “I work here, and you run this company.”
Moxley smiled lazily. “Are we stating facts now? Okay, you’re hot, and I don’t know why we’re wasting time talking.”
No sooner had the words left his mouth than he reached for, drawing her to him, so she was pressed against his body, flush against him. Startled, a small squeak left her lips, and she tilted her head back to look at him, studying his features carefully.
Okay, he didn’t seem to be fazed by her point, nor did he seem to care about the power dynamics, or the kind of risk they’d both be taking though admittedly she had a lot more to lose than he did.
Not the least of which was her reputation.
Moxley sucked his head and pressed his lips to her neck. “Stop thinking.”
Her fingers threaded themselves through his hair, providing her some much-needed support, a throaty whimper bubbling up. “Mr. Denton, please.”
“Oh, there will be a lot of begging, but not like this. Not here,” Moxley revealed, drawing his lips back, running his teeth across her pressure point. “We can stop if you want to, but I really don’t think you want to, and I think you can tell that I don’t want to either.”
To prove his point, he pressed his lower half against her, circling his hips, the bulge hovering too close to her center. Without even thinking, she bucked against him, her desire painfully obvious.
“Sawyer,” Moxley growled. “I’m only human, so please don’t torture me unless you plan on seeing this through. Just to be clear, I will not abuse my position of power or try to force you into anything, but I do want you. That’s all.”
Something about his admission sent chills up and down her spine, making her knees buckle. To his credit, Moxley stopped his assault on her neck and wrapped his arms around her, tucking her head into the crook of his neck.
Silence.
Her mind raced, coming up with all the reasons why she shouldn’t, outlining them in painstaking detail, but she couldn’t, for the life of her, pull away, putting a stop it once and for all.
More importantly, she didn’t want to.
“Kiss me,” Sawyer urged, silencing the voice inside her head.
In an instant, his mouth was on hers, covering it completely, one hand moving up to cup her head, and the other dancing across her back, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. Moxley leaned back, wrenching his lips away from hers, and his eyes darted around frantically.
He grabbed her hand and tugged her forward, stopping in front of a door which he kicked open with the heel of his toe. The door swung open to reveal an empty office with a dust-covered desk in the corner, and a swivel chair wrapped in plastic.
The perfect setup for a clandestine affair.
Sawyer stepped in, and Moxley relaxed her hand, reaching for the door. He turned the knob, and she heard the soft click, indicating that he locked it. She walked over to the curtain, and drew it open, enough to let some light in, so they weren’t fumbling in the dark.
She reached for him as he reached for her, a tangle of arms and legs, teeth scraping and quiet panting, the smell of sweat filled the room. Her fingers trembled, struggling with the belt around his waist till she finally managed to undo it, pushing his pants, so they looked around his ankles.
His shirt came off next.
He kicked off his shoes, shoving them to a corner and tossed the pants into the corner, his long muscular arms encasing her, wrapping around her back. She ran her hands over the smooth planes off his skin, from his neck all the way down to his happy trail, disappearing into the waistband of his boxers.
Meanwhile, Moxley’s hands snaked under her shirt, fingers moving across her bare skin, making a beeline for her chest. In one swift movement, he unhooked her bra, her nipples hardening against the fabric of her shirt.
After that, he made quick work of her buttons, grunting with impatience when the last few wouldn’t cooperate. She heard a slight ripping noise, and a few of the buttons flew across the room, landing quietly on the floor.
Sawyer gasped as Moxley lowered his mouth taking one nipple his mouth while he played with the other, kneading and flicking, turning it into a pebble. Her nails dug into his back, chest rising and falling unevenly as she panted, slick with desire.
Without her permission, her mouth made soft little whimpering noises as his mouth moved, stubble brushing against her skin. Her hand fell between them, cupping him in the palm of her hands.
He made a low guttural noise in the back of his throat, hands gliding over her skirt, groping till he found the zipper and slid it down, letting it pool around her feet. Wordlessly she stepped out of it, leaving her completely exposed, in nothing but her panties and heels.
Slowly, he moved backward, maneuvering her, so the back of her legs hit the desk. She lowered herself onto the surface, heart thundering erratically against her chest, nails raking against his skin, leaving marks.
With his mouth, he drew a trail up to her lips and kicked her legs open, so he was pressed against her. Sawyer moaned in response, the sound low and breathy, the fear of discovery hanging over them, charging the energy with forbidden desire.
His hand dropped down, shoving the panties aside, his fingers going straight for her sweet spot. Within seconds, he had her writhing beneath him, her body burning for his. Soon, it was two fingers, pumping in and out.
A thick and heavy fog settled over her brain, her legs wrapping themselves around his waist, shifting him closer, so close she could almost feel him. His tongue explored her mouth, pushing her closer and closer to the edge, swallowing back the sound of her ecstasy.
Spots broke out in her field of vision as she rode out her high. Moxley drew away and removed his fingers, pushing her underwear down to her legs. She kicked it away, dazed as he removed his boxers, his erection springing free.
His entire body glistened with his seat as he towered over her, leading himself in. She tensed as he filled her, moving slowly at first then faster, emboldened by her reaction, feral and wild.
Over
and over he pushed her over the edge, his name muttered under her breath.
She reached for him, and he obliged, his mouth sweeping over hers. Gently, he coaxed her away and eased himself out, flipping her over, so her back was exposed to him.
Her heart leaped inside her chest, her fingers gripping the edges of the desk to steady herself. In one swift movement, he thrust inside, his load groans music to her ears.
They began to move together, his hips circling, hands reaching for her breasts while she moved back and forth, focused on how he felt sliding in and out of her.
Skin slapping against skin.
She bit down hard on her lip to keep quiet, and she felt him sink his teeth into her shoulder, a needy mixture of pleasure and pain. Her eyes squeezed shut, focused on the sensations, how every nerve end was alive and responsive.
Explosive.
Chapter Five
Moxley
Sawyer was unlike anyone he ever met, or been with.
For the most part, his appetite had been insatiable, restless in his constant search for something else, something more and ending up in bed with the wrong woman each time he tried to find it.
Truthfully, he hadn’t known what he was looking for, treating it as an itch on his back that needed to be scratched, shying away from intimacy that went beyond sex.
It wasn’t as if he had commitment issues, not to his knowledge at least, but he just hadn’t met anyone he wanted to get to know, have deep stimulating conversations with, or just watch tv alongside.
Instead, it had been a steady parade of women, tall, short, blonde, brunette and every shade in between, light-skinned or dark-skinned. None of it would have mattered considering it all played out the same way with them heading back to her place for a sweat-soaked night.
And he’d been content with it, not knowing what he was missing out on.
Honestly, he’d imagined Sawyer would be the same, had even envisioned what it would feel like to get it out of his system and move on with his life. She even wanted the same thing he did, a no strings attached kind of fling.
In that regard, it was a great set up, by mutual agreement.
The abandoned office had become their spot. During the workday, he’d find excuses just to sneak back there, and he’d text her, waiting impatiently till she showed up, a smirk on her face.
He couldn’t get enough of her,
Every time they stopped, he reached for her, wanting more until he was convinced the energy between them would make them both combust or collapse into a heap, a pile of sweat-soaked, hunger filled bodies and even then it wouldn’t be enough.
He had no idea what was happening.
All he knew was that it wasn’t just about the sex anymore. The past few weeks something changed, a subtle shift, and here he was a month later, frustrated beyond belief, his mood dark and surly.
No, he didn’t just want Sawyer’s body. He needed something else from her as well, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on, the tightening in his stomach when he spotted her, the goofy grin on his face when he saw her lips curve into a smile.
And the sound of her laughs, airy and carefree.
Shit.
He had it bad, and he wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing. On the one hand, he was happy to feel this way again, but on the other hand, he didn’t want to complicate their arrangement.
The past month had been incredible, but he was starting to think that maybe it wasn’t enough. For the first time in a long time, he could picture himself with someone, not just someone but her.
Funny, strong, kind, smart-mouthed and sexy.
She was the woman for him, he was sure of that, but the problem was their agreement. Sawyer had never expressed interest in anything other than having a good time, without any kind of expectations. By all accounts, it should’ve been the perfect arrangement.
Now, it felt lacking.
He came up with excuses just to talk to her, found reasons to stop by her floor, and called for meetings that were completely unnecessary. Through it all, she maintained her professional veneer, not allowing the mask to crack or slip.
Was there a possibility she felt the same way?
Not being able to tell was driving him crazy, making him act out of character.
He couldn’t tell, and it left him on shaky ground, uncertain and floundering, a feeling he wasn’t accustomed to, and he didn’t particularly care for it either. No, he was a man who was used to being in control and calling the shots.
Now, he was some whipped puppy dog hoping for scraps, so long as she glanced his way with even a small smile.
Oh, fuck.
Yeah, this wasn’t going away anytime soon. The sooner her acknowledged it, the better, and if he was being honest with himself, he wasn’t sure he wanted it to.
Moxley uncrossed his legs and removed them from the coffee table and reached for the remote, jabbing the pause button, unable to enjoy his show.
Frustrated, he stood up and began to pace, from one side of the penthouse to the other, unable to stand still for a few seconds at a time, restless energy coursing through him, making him clench and unclench.
When did it go from an office fling to a real deal?
About the same time you started wondering what she was up to and cracking those lame jokes just to get her to snort, you idiot.
Perhaps he wasn’t as perceptive as he thought, because he’d certainly missed all the warning signs: heart skittering around his chest, pulse jumping erratically, the swarm of butterflies in his stomach.
Christ, he hadn’t felt this way since his high school girlfriend, Karen.
All at once, he slowed to a stop and flexed his fingers at his side. This wasn’t a big deal. He could handle this. He’d negotiated deals with leaders from all over the world, sticking to his guns until he had them where he wanted them.
Granted, this was different because romance was nothing like business, but he could do this. All he had to do was convince Sawyer that they would be good together, in and out of bed.
Needless to say, he had his work cut out for him because she wasn’t an easy woman to please. He reached for his phone and scrolled through the contacts, pausing at her name.
“Hey,” Moxley greeted.
“What’s up?”
“I need to talk to you, but I don’t know where to begin,” Moxley admitted, shoving his hands in his sweatpants. “I think you’re the only one who can help.”
“I'm here. Start from the beginning. Is everything okay?”
***
Talking to his sister had been a stroke of inspired genius, lightning striking at the right place at the right time. Not only did Indiana calm him down, immeasurably, assuring him that he just needed to sweep Sawyer off her feet, which he was perfectly capable of doing, then she would be all his.
After an hour of back and forth conversation, she convinced him to hire an event planner, suggesting that he should have Sawyer over for the evening, so he could profess his true feelings.
On paper, it sounded like a good plan, a big romantic gesture, something worthy of one of those cheesy rom-coms. But the biggest problem was that he and Sawyer had never met up outside of work, wanting to keep the relationship strictly casual, afraid that if they took it to either of their places, things might get dicey.
And he wasn’t exactly entertaining women here.
In fact, he made it a point not to bring them back here after a long night of slow-burn flirting and coy glances over drinks. Generally, he liked to keep those two sides of himself separate, and it included keeping his private residence, well, private.
Since he moved in here, he did not invite female company because he liked his space, valued it, and he thought it would be much simpler if they didn’t come here, catching a peek at the man behind the curtain.
It was a lot less complicated this way, and a hell of a lot more efficient.
Besides, these women didn’t know him, not truly. They all just wanted som
ething from him, and he happily obliged, taking just as much as he gave, reveling in their understanding.
Sawyer was different, and he wanted her to see this side of him: the man, not the CEO. In front of him, the event planner moved all over the living room, adding her own touches here and there, moving the couch to the center, spraying the placer with something lavender-scented and setting up a table out on the veranda, offering a view of the city at night, with the sky acting as a backdrop.
All over the balcony were little bowls filled with water, and a candle floating in the center, setting up the ambiance, rose petals were strewn everywhere, adding to the flowery scent.
Basically, he was taking his sister’s advice to woo her to the next level, making sure he went all out. As for Sawyer, he’d taken the liberty of texting her two hours ago, asking if they could meet at his penthouse.
He’d even sent her the location.
To say that he was nervous was an understatement, and he could tell she was surprised by his invite, having wordlessly agreed to stay out of each other’s worlds, but it was time for him to let her into his, provided she accepted it.
And he truly hoped she did.
From his spot, sitting on a stool in the kitchen counter, swinging his legs back and forth, he had the full picture, offering him a chance to back out if he wanted to. It wasn’t too late for him to tarnish all the hard word the event planner put in, he would pay her anyway, but if Sawyer rejected him…
He didn’t want to think about that, so he shook his head, dispelling away all thoughts of hurt and humiliation, haunting him like some kind of specter. He wiped his hands on the front of his jeans, getting rid of the sweat, and then stood up.
Moxley stepped into the kitchen and leaned over the stove, removing the cover to sniff the pot. He brought the spoon up to his mouth and smacked his lips together experimentally.
Afterward, he reached towards the spice rug and added a dash of rosemary for flavor. He turned down the heat and swung the freezer open, checking on the wine that he’d purchased for the occasion.
Billionaire: A Billionaire Boys Club novel Page 3