should you even care?’
She stared up at him. He was wrong. It wasn’t about other people. She didn’t do what she wanted because she knew from past experience that it would be the worst thing for her. An office affair was a fantasy that invariably ended as a nightmare. The environment was false; you worked as a close unit for a short time, living in each other’s pockets. Adrenaline and excitement gave an unnatural high. It wasn’t the real world and who knew what secrets were in Rory’s life outside the office? What would happen when he was locked away in another project room with another temp he might find attractive?
His thumb continued its gentle stroking. The response in her bones was not so gentle. Despite what her brain was telling her, she wanted him badly.
‘Let’s really give them something to talk about,’ he said softly, his focus on her mouth. His thumb stroked her lips. They parted a fraction. He stroked his thumb across again, pushing it in slightly so she felt it brush against her tongue. Her desire to taste him intimately flared.
‘If they’re all thinking it, it seems a shame not to make the most of it.’ He looked down at her, hesitating.
‘What do you want from me?’ She stared at him, feeling tortured.
He looked at her with such solemn intensity that she knew she was about to get a painfully honest answer.
‘Everything. I want to touch you, taste you. I want to see you writhe in pleasure. I want to see you lose control.’
‘Why?’ She barely recognised the croaky whisper as her own.
He gave a wry smile. ‘It would make me feel good.’
‘What—to have control over me?’
‘No.’ His eyes darkened in frustration. ‘Not like that. I want to know that I can touch you in ways that drive you crazy, that I can satisfy you.’
Her eyes widened in surprise. She didn’t try to hide it. Her head ached and she was using all her energy to stay on her feet. She couldn’t possibly hide anything from him right now. She answered huskily. ‘You should know that already.’
His eyes blazed, boring into hers. ‘Are you going to let me?’
‘I don’t think I have much choice.’
He growled. ‘Of course you do. You decide.’
‘I’m sick of fighting it.’
‘Fighting me?’
‘No, fighting me.’
His thumb continued rubbing her jaw gently and his gaze dropped to her mouth again.
She knew he wanted to kiss her but he held firm, watching, waiting for her to acquiesce. He seemed to be holding heaven out to her and all she had to do was lean forward and take it from him. The long days and even longer nights of loneliness and want and need overwhelmed her. She blanked the future, no longer caring, no longer able to think. All that mattered right now was this.
Her control snapped. ‘I want you to touch me,’ she whispered fiercely. ‘I want you.’
She didn’t just agree, she became the aggressor. It was what she had been wanting for so long. With a speed and strength that surprised both of them she reached up and ran both hands through his hair, pulling his head down to meet her hungry mouth. She licked and tasted him. Vaguely she heard him groan and then she moaned in delight as he pulled her hard up against him. They met length to length. She let him take her weight. He held her easily. The pressure of his hard chest against her sensitive breasts was dynamite. She squirmed her hips against his, her delight at feeling his arousal rendering her unable to control her writhing action. They were the perfect height for each other. Her long legs ensured that they met in the middle, just where they were supposed to. He put his hands on her hips and gripped hard, holding her while he slowly rocked against her, simulating the closer connection that she craved. And all the while their lips, teeth and tongues swirled and danced in a kiss so passionate she never wanted it to end, never wanted any of it to end.
But it wasn’t enough. She was desperate to feel his bare skin against hers. Desperate to have him touch her intimately, taste her, suck her, fill her. She tugged at his shirt and moaned in frustration when it wouldn’t give. He pulled back from her slightly.
‘Lissa,’ he said raggedly. ‘Lissa, we can’t.’
It was not what she wanted to hear. A feral growl escaped her and she reached up for him again. He held his head back firmly. ‘They might come back any minute.’
Who? she wondered, half crazed. Right now she didn’t give a damn.
He swore softly. ‘Hell, beautiful, why did you have to pick tonight of all nights?’ He stared into her eyes, and her need must have been clearly evident. ‘I’ll give you what you want, honey,’ he whispered softly as he stood back from her a fraction. And then his warm, strong hand slid down the waistband of her skirt and straight into her panties. She gasped in surprise. His palm pressed hard against her and his fingers delved lower, stroking those lips. Her legs buckled and he caught her with his other arm. He backed her up so she was pressing against the table. Her legs spread wide of their own volition and she found herself leaning back on her hands before she knew it. He kept his hand where it was and his fingers started stroking rhythmically. He bent over her and claimed her mouth once more. His other hand lifted and caressed her breast, teasing the already hard nipple—swirling around it, rubbing, gently squeezing. Her whole body shook with delight, her aching mind relieved of thought, only capable of absorbing the sensations he incited.
After a few heavenly minutes she wrenched her mouth free of his, gasping for air. His lips trailed across her jaw and down her neck. Big, open-mouthed kisses that alternately sucked and soothed. She was on fire, in ecstasy and hurtling towards oblivion. Her breathless gasps accelerated to audible moans as his fingers continued their erotic torment and his thumb rotated around her sensitive nub. It made her want more, much more. She wanted everything. She stirred against him, and murmuring against her, he upped the pressure and pace.
The tempo and volume of her soft moans increased accordingly and she threw her head back, her hips bucking as her body tensed, on the edge of release. The cry of pleasure already building in her chest.
Then he was gone. Without warning he’d pulled back and with a muttered oath whipped his hand free.
‘No!’ she moaned, frantic. Just a few seconds more, just one second more!
‘What is it with us and timing?’ He grasped her shoulders and stood her upright, then quickly turned and pulled her chair out for her. She practically fell into it, breathless and stunned and so, so frustrated. She had been so close to what would have been the most powerful orgasm of her life. She sat dazed, wondering what the hell had just happened. Then she heard them. Voices, along the corridor. Rory must have heard the elevator bell.
‘Come home with me tonight,’ he said urgently in a low voice as he dug his hand into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief before sliding into his own seat. He looked across at her, his eyes stormy and brilliant.
She stared at him, barely able to breathe let alone think or reply. Suddenly her headache came pounding back, blindingly vicious. The euphoria of the previous moment vanished and the void was rapidly filled with an icy cold. What was she doing? The emptiness was unbearable. She stared at him as horror sank in. Her uncontrollable
