by Lindsey Hart
“W-what?” she gasped, completely taken off guard.
“I said, open your legs. Let me see my prize.”
“Your- prize? You make it sound like I’m some kind of horse or something you’ve won.”
“I believe it was you who asked me for this,” he stated flatly, not at all ashamed of what he’d just asked her to do. He might as well have told her to unroll the window, he was so casual about it.
“I- I did, but- you- you don’t have to be so crass about it.”
Blaze actually rolled his eyes. “Look, Office Baby, I know you’re a virgin and all- if you just want me to take your v-card, my cock in your pussy, I can do that for you. Happily. I’m sure I’ll enjoy it. You might too. You’re a beautiful woman and even if a scared virgin isn’t exactly my choice of companion, you should do nicely anyway, just because the strangeness of the request is exciting enough to make up for a less than stellar performance. If you’d like to actually enjoy this encounter to the fullest, to put my considerable skills to use, then I suggest you relax, take a deep breath, and open. Your. Legs.”
Colette sucked in a breath at his commanding tone. Although he softened his words with a self-satisfied smirk, it didn’t make them any less harsh. Or domineering.
“You know, you’re a real bastard. I’m starting to consider that this whole thing was a really bad idea and even though I don’t want to die a virgin and I work too much to make any kind of social life possible, I think I’ll just ask you to take me back home and call the whole thing off.”
He stared at her flatly, giving nothing away. “If that’s what you want.”
Honestly, she didn’t know what she wanted. Was it the man in front of her, so gorgeous that it wasn’t fair? That he didn’t even seem real? That he was committing some kind of crime just by looking that fucking amazing? Or to go back home and pretend that it never happened.
Of course, if she did that, she might have to change jobs. Going on the hunt wasn’t something she wanted to do at the moment. She’d already put the stupid request out there. She couldn’t just keep showing up at work, pretending like it never happened.
Crazy as it was, she’d opened her big mouth and jumped in with both feet and now that she was totally submerged in the icy waters that were Blake Hanson, she couldn’t just jump out dry and unscathed.
He leaned forward, fist balled to knock on the partition, but she shocked herself by slamming her hand into his chest and pushing him back into the seat across from her.
“No,” she panted. “No, I mean- I- no… I- we’re doing this. Okay. I’m just… nervous.”
His smirk told her just how satisfied he was with himself. He might have won whatever battle of wills they were playing at, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to let him win the war, even if going up against him was one hell of a daunting task.
“I don’t know just how inexperienced you are, Office Baby, but I promise you that opening your legs isn’t going to make you any less of a virgin.”
“I thought you were going to stop calling me that.”
“I never agreed on it.”
“It’s degrading.”
“Not to me.”
Her nostrils flared as she fought back the outrage blooming in her chest. Why the heck had she ever thought that this was the man she wanted to give her v-card to? Sure, she wanted to get rid of it. At twenty, it was embarrassing as hell to still realize that she’d never actually done the deed.
“I’m not going to spread my legs for you to stare at me lewdly like some kind of creep.”
“I didn’t think there was anything creepy about it.” His eyes sparkled and his face changed. He looked more like a little boy than he did a man in control of everything, and it was completely disarming. “But if you’d rather not enjoy what I had planned, and I promise you would enjoy it, then that’s fine. I’m not going to force you to do anything. We can move onto option B, which is to sit here staring at each other like lumps in uncomfortable silence until we get to dinner, which will likely take a good forty-five minutes.”
His words curled around her like a dark, filthy shadow, rich and dripping with promise.
She’d asked him for this. She wanted it. God, she’d wanted it for a long time, but not just with anyone. With him. She just wasn’t going to admit it, especially not to Blaze.
Despite herself, she did want to know what he had planned. She’d spent her entire high school life getting mocked for being a nerd and spending her time locked in her room coding. She’d been so busy developing apps and games and programs that she didn’t have time to go out with anyone. Not that anyone would have asked her. She didn’t even go to her own prom or grad, since there didn’t seem to be any point. No one had realized she wasn’t there anyway. She’d set her sights on a job right after high school and got a good one. One that most people would kill for. Between working her ass off trying to prove she belonged there, and undertaking her own personal projects, learning as much as she could along the way, dating hadn’t exactly been high on the priority list.
She was sitting across from Blaze Hanson and he was hers for the night. Was she really going to throw that away?
She’d worked so hard on that damn app just for this.
She was ashamed to admit it, even to herself, but she was never going to ask for a raise.
She was always going to ask for him.
So no, she wasn’t going to waste this night, no matter how embarrassed she might be to follow Mr. Asshole’s orders.
With a huff designed to tell him just what she thought about him sitting there presiding over her, ordering her, she slowly parted her legs.
And no, she didn’t wear her best set of underwear just for him. She’d worn them for her. To make herself feel pretty and special and desirable. Yes, they were black lace. Yes, they were a little sheer, with roses twining all over them. Yes, they were damp, despite her annoyance with the bastard across from her.
His eyes danced between her legs and smoldered.
Her body was clearly a traitor because she felt the rush of wetness soak her lace panties. There was nothing there to absorb all that moisture and she could literally feel the beads of her arousal trickling down, probably soaking her dress.
“Tell me, Office Baby,” Blaze ground out. “Do you find me attractive?”
Good lord. Did he really need her to stroke his already massive ego?
“I- if I didn’t, why would I have asked you to do this?”
“Beggars can’t be choosers?”
“Thanks. Thanks a lot.”
He winked at her before he tumbled to his knees in front of her, his hands splayed out on the seat at either side of her thighs. Another shiver ripped up her spine at the feral gleam in his eyes.
“I wanted to know if you found me attractive before. Because I promise you, there is nothing like seeing a man prostrate on his knees before you, knowing that you have all the power.”
CHAPTER 6
Blaze
Oh yeah. She wants me. She doesn’t want to, but she can’t help herself. This is fucking happening.
Blaze thought for a second that she was going to refuse. To make her job that much harder and the chase that much merrier, by asking him to take her home. Game. On. Instead, she changed her mind and god, seeing her sitting there, her dress riding up her creamy thighs, her black lace panties peeking out, nearly slayed him. He wasn’t the hunter at the moment. He was the damn prey.
Not that she knew it.
Which made it all that much hotter.
There wasn’t anything like a woman who didn’t understand her own beauty.
Blaze admitted that he was pretty damn shocked at the fact she wasn’t wearing granny panties. He’d always pegged her as a cotton underwear type of person and if she wasn’t, that she would have gone out and purchased a set just to taunt him.
But no. She was sitting there in her black lace number and his heart proceeded to tear out of his chest. Which was nothing compared to what
his dick was currently doing. His balls felt like they’d just been kicked up into his stomach with a steel toed boot. In a good way. If something like that could be good because fisting- booting- that kind of thing wasn’t exactly his kink.
“I planned to take us to dinner, but I’m going to feast on you like you’re my last meal,” he growled. Nothing like breaking her in gently.
Colette made an astonished noise in the back of her throat. “W-why?” she gasped.
“Are you kidding me? You’re going to ask me, a man, why I’d like to taste your pussy?”
“I- I mean- thank god I showered.”
He didn’t look up at her. He figured if he did and she saw the naked lust in his eyes, she’d get up and bolt, high speeds or not. She was so fucking adorable. And he could already see beneath those panties he wanted to tear off her and shove in his pocket for safekeeping, that she was totally shaved.
Lord, never mind the boot, it felt like he’d just been shot in the nuts.
Because yeah. They hurt that bad.
“If you hadn’t, I’m sure you’d taste just as sweet.” He brought his face closer, swept his hands to her thighs, and inhaled deeply, scenting her beautiful feminine musk. It was barely there, honeyed and as sweet as the rest of her. She obviously wasn’t lying about just having showered.
She made a strangled noise in the back of her throat before he spread her thighs and kissed his way over them. She gasped and went rigid under his hands, the muscles of her thighs straining and vibrating. When he nipped the tender flesh of her inner thigh, she nearly shot through the roof.
“Jesus, god,” she muttered, her hands sweeping down automatically to grip at his hair.
And yeah. He didn’t give a fuck that it was going to be completely messed up in a five-star restaurant where a meal cost more than what most people made in a month. Or that he’d undoubtedly smell like her pussy.
“Not Jesus and not God,” he muttered darkly, a hint of self-deprecating humor in his tone. “Just Blaze. Or, Office Master. Or if you must, Sex God. Because I suppose I definitely am that.”
“You’re an idiot,” she ground out, but her lips wavered, a direct giveaway that she’d thought about him with some kind of title that wasn’t his name.
“I have no doubt about that, but tonight, I’m your idiot.”
He’d warmed her up enough with gentle kisses and caresses. He wanted the real thing. He was going to take her, lick her, tempt her, tantalize her, make her come all over his face, all while she still had her panties on.
It might be more of a challenge but challenge motherfucking accepted.
“You’re quite rude,” she panted as he brought his face in close and inhaled her sweet crisp scent. It made saliva jet at the back of his mouth. “We don’t even know each other and you’re commanding me to spread my legs like some kind of hussy. Or your usual date.”
“Now who’s being rude?”
“You’re an asshole. If I’m going to call you anything, it’s going to be Captain Ass or Man-whore Extraordinaire.”
“That’s quite inventive. You seem to be in the right business, wrong department. I can talk to marketing for you, if you’d like. Get you over on their side. As to Captain Ass, I like the ring of it. It means that you’ve obviously spent some time studying my rear, and it’s completely flattering to know you care so much.”
“Did I ever tell you that you’re arrogant and that I can’t stand to be in the same room with you?”
His fingers dug into her thighs, making her gasp. If it was odd that they were having the longest conversation they’d ever had in two years while he was staring down her most intimate, lace covered lady bits, it never crossed his mind. By the way she was panting though, it had obviously crossed hers.
“Careful,” he warned, right before he brought his mouth to her panty covered sex. He swirled his tongue out and licked her through the lace, and god, she was sweet. So fucking sweet it threw off his equilibrium. “There’s a fine line between hate and love.”
“I could never love you, so don’t worry about that. That’s not what this is about.” Her voice was breathy as she struggled to maintain her sanity with his face pressed right up against her heated core.
“Right. This is about this.”
He swept his tongue more slowly over her heated folds and there was no way Colette could blame the bump in the road for the way she lurched forward and her hips jacked into his face.
He tasted her, pressing his tongue flat to her panties and licking her from front to back. He swirled over her folds, exploring his prize- and it was his prize, even if she didn’t know it yet- before his lips latched onto the hard little bud of her clit. She was throbbing, straining right through the fabric, absolutely soaked.
She was also a liar because she was wet before he even touched her.
He swirled his hand through her juices, coating his fingers off the sticky lace and reached up. He pulled back just enough to see the look on Colette’s face, which was a mix of disgust, shock, and twisted lust.
She might be a good liar. She might be good at pretending he didn’t damn well exist most days, but she couldn’t lie about this. Her body was a traitor and she liked what he was doing.
“Taste yourself. Taste what I make you feel. How much you enjoy it.”
She shook her head hard, strands of dark hair whipping all over the place, her eyes round like he’d just jumped into the car dripping seaweed and slime and announced he was a lake monster come to eat her soul.
“Why? Are you afraid that you’ll enjoy it?”
“I- I’m not going to- I- I don’t enjoy it. Not like how you think. This is just a natural biological function.”
Blaze retracted his hand. He leaned away from her and pushed off the seat, shoving back into his, until he was sitting across from her. Slowly, so that she could watch every single moment and savor every filthy second of it, he brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked her juices clean. When he popped them back out, he made sure to make an exaggerated humming sound in the back of his throat.
“You disgust me,” she panted, arousal staining her cheeks a pretty pink.
He shrugged. “Yes, well. The feeling isn’t mutual. In fact, I think you’re rather delicious. You taste like honey and vanilla. And something deep, dark, spicier. Cinnamon maybe? Cloves? I don’t know. I just know that I like it. That I want more.”
Her lips parted a little further as the red-stained her cheeks darker. She finally realized she was still sitting there in a rather un-lady like position and slammed her legs closed. Her eyes swept to his and despite the anger in those steely depths, desire burned there too.
“You- you can’t- this wasn’t in the contract.”
“I didn’t realize we wrote up a contract about exactly how you wanted this night to go. I didn’t think just ramming my cock into you and puncturing a barrier was very romantic.”
“You’re very crass,” she snapped. Her jaw ticked with her annoyance, but that flush betrayed her the same way her body did.
“Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea. And I promise, you’ll like it, if you give it a chance.”
“Doubtful.”
“Hardly. You know, I was going to give you an orgasm, maybe two or three, before we got to dinner, but I guess you don’t want those.” He winked at her. “They would have been the best of your life, because I doubt your fingers or any vibrator would do the job half as well as my tongue.”
Colette blew out a hard breath. “Yeah, well, I don’t need one. And for your information, I think your skills are highly overrated.”
“Based on the ten seconds you just allowed me between your legs?”
“No!” Her eyes shot to the window. “Based on the fact that my fingers and my vibrator do a more than satisfactory job.”
“Oh. I see.” He nodded slowly, like he was deep in thought. He kept his eyes trained on her, even though she refused to look at him and found the window and the passing scenery vastly more fascinat
ing. “Not only are you a virgin, virgin, you’re also a good orgasm virgin. When you make yourself come, do you settle for just once? Or do you go back for round two and three?”
She bit down on her bottom lip, refusing to dignify that with an answer, and he knew he was right.
“I hope dinner is good at least,” he muttered. He waited until her head slowly swiveled back to him, like some comical version of a pissed off horned owl. All that was missing was the burning yellow eyes, but those greys were doing a pretty good job of glowing feral all on their own. “Because I am. Absolutely. Starved.”
CHAPTER 7
Colette
It was pretty clear, by the time their dessert, arrived, that she’d made a deal with the devil.
Hell, it was clear far before they even arrived at the restaurant.
She was uncomfortably wet and uncharacteristically hot. It felt like she was boiling alive in her own skin. She’d never felt that way before and of course, it was all because of the demon sitting across from her. He was no less imposing at the table than he had been in the confined space of the car. No less composed either, even after what he’d done.
If she’d learned one thing, it was that Blaze Hanson had no shame.
And a wickedly talented tongue.
Which she, of course, wouldn’t truly admit to herself. She’d just sampled it. She didn’t really know that for a fact. And if she was more experienced, she probably wouldn’t have been impressed. In the car. Or by the way he was slowly licking cheesecake off his fork like with every bite he was imagining tasting her instead.
Don’t forget that he’s an asshole. That he’s a smug, stuck up bastard who is far too confident in his reputation and his so-called talents.
Don’t be taken in by a pretty face.
A really pretty face.
Or an expensive suit. Or the rock-hard abs and huge broad shoulder below. Or the way he rolled up his sleeves so that his forearms are sticking out.