me guess. You don’t like to be mussed.”
She slid her hands down to his fly and unzipped him.
“No mussing, it is,” he groaned tightly.
He was hard and ready. Just the way she wanted him. But before they began, she lifted his wrist and stuck the cuff link through the buttonhole. “I’ll let you keep this trinket.”
And gliding her hands inside his coat, she slid them up his back between the crisp dress shirt and the silk coat lining. So many pockets lining the interior. Excellent. And then back around to unbutton his trousers and push them down.
“Take me,” she insisted, defiantly holding his wondrous gaze. She did love it when they seemed shocked, the treat of a stolen liaison so unexpected to them. “Fast and hard.”
His swallow was audible. But he didn’t balk. Pushing up her dress, he lifted her against the wall at the same time. She wrapped her legs about his hips. His erection fit like a hot steel rod against her mons.
“You’re soft and you smell great, and you’re so hot,” he babbled as he found his way inside her.
Blyss gasped as his thickness entered her in a smooth glide. She hadn’t required lubrication because she’d been turned on since he’d gotten caught on her dress. Mmm, he felt like hot, hard steel. Every in-and-out motion teased at her apex, and she thought she might even climax, even though simple thrusting generally didn’t do it for her.
She glided her fingers through his hair, seeking to grip hanks but it was so short, like uncut velvet. And then she did something she never did with her hookups. She didn’t even think about it. Her head simply tilted and her mouth sought his. He tasted like champagne. His moan echoed inside her, stirring up her own moan. His powerful biceps flexed under her hands. His hips slammed her against the wall.
Gripping him at the back of his neck, she kissed him deeply, wanting to get lost in him, to find... No. Mustn’t be a fool.
Stryke gasped harshly, yet quickly muffled the noise by pressing his mouth against her neck, his teeth pressing gently into her skin. “Shoot, I didn’t use a condom...”
“I am on the pill,” she whispered. “No worries.”
“Whew.” And as his body shook against hers, she reveled in his quick yet furious orgasm that shuddered his body against hers. Until she remembered...
The desk drawer beside her slid open with ease. She palmed the item she’d placed inside earlier and then slid her hand inside his suit coat. He was lost in the orgasm, oblivious to her actions.
“That was so—mmm, good.” His eyes sought something in hers, so desperately, Blyss felt as if she’d done something wrong. “You’re...” He sniffed, pushing his nose against her neck again and lingering at the base of her ear where her hair must tickle his face. “God, you smell good. But there’s something...”
She dropped her legs and tugged down her skirt. “What is it?”
“I don’t know. I just...” He pressed a hand over her breast, and it was only then that Blyss noticed how her heartbeats thundered. She’d love to do it again with this one—to actually take her time and find her own orgasm—but...
She would see him again. He just didn’t know that yet.
“You’re beautiful,” he said. “But you don’t belong here.”
The hand at her chest suddenly felt like a two-ton weight. Blyss gaped. She shook her head. “Why do you say that?”
“I don’t know why I feel that, but I do,” he said. “Something about you. Are you...lost?”
A knock at the door sounded.
Stryke quickly zipped and Blyss tugged down her dress and adjusted the red ribbon at the top of her silk stocking. “Lorcan?” she called.
“You busy?” a British voice called from outside the door. They’d done this drill before. He knew never to simply open the door and walk right in.
“He’s my assistant.” And such perfect timing!
She pushed by Stryke and strode toward the door, hands smoothing over her hair. “I have to get back. They’ll be looking for me. You should leave now. Please.”
She unlocked the door and opened it, revealing Lorcan waiting outside. He knew better than to show a cheeky grin or even a raised brow. The man was ever discreet. She returned the same courtesy to him. Turning, Blyss gulped down the longing that had been planted there by Stryke’s sensual prowess. She’d wanted to linger.
Really? Linger against his heat, his overwhelming essence of man, sex and muscle? Sounded delicious. But indulgence in what her heart desired was something she never allowed.
Stryke passed her and slowed, as if he wanted to say something to her, but with Lorcan standing in the doorway, his eyes respectfully gliding along the door frame, Stryke simply nodded and walked out.
“Don’t go back into the gallery!” she called after him. “Please.”
He nodded as his strides took him down the hallway and away from her.
And she turned and strode back to the desk, palm pressed over her heart and biting her lip to prevent the tears.
Tears? What had he meant when he’d insinuated she was lost? Perhaps he hadn’t been such a wise choice, after all. It was too late to alter her plan. She’d already completed the main step.
She would have to see Stryke again. And she looked forward to it. She dreaded it, as well.
“Everything all right, duck?” Lorcan asked.
She nodded. “I’m sorry. You know sometimes I just...”
“No need for an explanation. I’m headed out myself with a pretty young thing. Wanted to let you know I’m leaving. Unless you need me to stay and lock up?”
“No. Thank you, Lorcan. I’ve the security guard and the waitstaff will be around, as well. Go have some fun. I’ll see you in a few days.”
“Yes. We’ll cement our plans for the showing then, eh?”
She nodded.
If all went well, that showing would never occur. And the only one aware it had failed would be her. She had a plan for keeping Lorcan in the dark about it.
He left the office door open, and Blyss bent and peered past her assistant to see if she could still see Stryke’s back, but he was gone.
“The Île Saint-Louis,” she whispered. “Now to step three in the plan. This will be the most difficult.”
And if her heart got in the way again she truly would be lost, as he’d guessed.
* * *
Talk about the cold shoulder.
Stryke actually shivered as he strode down the darkened hallway, passed by the gallery
