head falls back and I scrape my lips along the column of her neck, sucking in the essence of her soft skin. ‘So you came to my office this morning with this very intention. Hoping to get what you wanted, to get me hard and get yourself off.’
‘Yes. Oh...yes.’ Her honesty slays me, her willingness to boldly and ruthlessly claim what she wants weakening my knees so I need to spread my feet wider to support her on the table’s edge.
‘Tell me you want to get off here, now, in my boardroom, where anyone could find us.’ I tongue her earlobe, flicking at the dangling pearl.
Her hips gyrate faster and she grips fistfuls of my shirt so tightly, I wonder if I’ll need to explain the missing buttons.
‘I want to get off.’ Her huge eyes are dark with arousal, clinging to mine. Begging. ‘It’s been so long.’ She gasps. ‘Reid, make me come.’
Fuck, she’s magnificent. I can’t stop now. I want to worship her, to witness her orgasm and how it undoes her put-together appearance. I want her as frantic and desperate as she’s made me. And more than that, I want to fulfil her fantasy.
‘Every time I have a meeting in here, I’m going to think of you, sexy as fuck on my conference table, taking what you want, your sexy mouth demanding an orgasm. No deal, no meeting will ever be the same. Understand?’
She whimpers, dragging my mouth back to hers with desperate tugs around my neck and shoulders. I kiss her and talk around our kisses, although her mouth is so wild, it’s a struggle to get coherent words out. But my mouth runs away with itself, perhaps encouraged by the new deal we’ve struck. I can’t seem to shut up.
‘Next time you wear a dress, I want you to forget the underwear. I want to know that, if you’re horny, there’s nothing to get in my way. Nothing to stop me going down on you and tasting all this delicious sweetness between your legs.’ I twist my wrist, scissoring my fingers and pressing down on her clit with my thumb.
She’s there. With a sexy moan she throws her head back and comes, her tight muscles gripping my fingers while she rides my hand through the body-racking tremors. I kiss her through her climax, swallowing up her cries, each one a bolt of victory through my chest.
Spent, she collapses forward, her head heavy on my shoulder as her breathing settles. And then she looks up, vulnerable and breath-stealing and more beautiful than I’ve ever seen her.
I take my hand from between her legs, not ready to let her go just yet. I scoop my other arm around her waist, tugging her closer so we’re nose-to-nose and I’m still sandwiched between her glorious thighs, what she does to me evident in my strung-taut body and my steel-hard dick. Stringing out the fantasy with my own erotic twist, I raise one wet finger to her mouth and trace her full bottom lip with her own desire. Her warm breath gusts over my fingertip and renewed excitement flashes in her eyes.
‘Taste yourself.’ My command, whisper-soft, murmured against her swollen lips makes her eyes widen.
She obeys, her tongue tracing where my finger has been. This time I trace her top lip and then I kiss her, every sense full of her—her scent, the vision of her flushed from her orgasm and the taste of her. All of her.
‘Mmm...delicious...’ I say around our kiss. ‘I can’t wait for more.’ Then I step away and adjust myself, my own breathing ragged as I get myself back under control. If I don’t stop there, we’re at serious risk of being caught full-out fucking in the Faulkner Group’s boardroom.
She frowns as I shrug into my suit jacket.
‘What about you?’ Her voice croaks as she slips from the table and pushes down her dress before loosely finger-combing her hair to conceal what has just taken place.
‘I have a ten o’clock meeting.’ Regret makes my voice a little gruff. I scoop up the signed paperwork and straighten my tie for something to do with my hands besides touch. She’s way too tempting. And now I’ve had a brief taste...the roar in my head tells me how close I am to taking more. Taking everything. Blair Cameron could become an overwhelming addiction without careful management.
‘Okay.’ She turns away from me, head down, and busies herself with her bag.
Oh, no. She wants to live out her fantasies. Well, my first tactic is anticipation. Sure, I could clear my diary, take her home right now. That’s what my body screams at me to do. But by the next time I touch her we’ll both be so primed...the reward will multiply exponentially.
I press up behind her once more, reminding her with the prod of my erection in the small of her back that, sadly, it’s business as usual. The scent of sex and coconut shampoo lingers as I nuzzle her hair, seeking her soft, silky earlobe and the delicate pearl, which I tug between my lips. ‘Are you free for dinner tonight?’
She gasps, melts back into me and then corrects herself, standing tall as she nods.
I allow my lips to linger, just below her ear—a sensitive spot if the trembles jolting her shoulders are any indication. ‘I’ll call you later. Have a good day, Blair.’
Her head snaps around, her eyes teetering on the edge of a glare. I wink and she smiles. How could she not? I’m pretty certain I just rocked her world. Her legs are obviously still a little unstable, because she’s swaying on those heels she favours.
I leave the room, leave her to compose herself, while I ignore the wants of my own body and get back to my day. Who knew this deal would become so...rewarding?
I temper my wide grin. No one likes a smug bastard.
Blair
Wear a dress, no underwear.
I READ THE text again for at least the hundredth time while tiny ripples dance down my abdominal muscles and everything below my waist tightens. I cover my face with my hands, threatening my carefully applied make-up, and groan.
What am I doing? What did I do?
My breath shudders into my lungs on a surge of shame. I confessed my long-held crush to Reid Faulkner. I negotiated sex into my Faulkner contract. I propositioned him and then I rode his hand on his boardroom conference table. And, of course, I agreed to play by his rules, the reason I’m in my current underwear predicament.
A hysterical giggle escapes past my fingers as I reread the text. I never believed Reid would go for my sexy proposition. I clutch my stomach, reliving the cascade of emotional turmoil I felt over our negotiations. Navigating the currents and rips of keeping my Faulkner contract solid while broaching the elephant in the room of our chemistry. The lingering niggle of fear I was wrong about our mutual attraction. The possibility he’d think our age difference insurmountable, or still see me as an easily ignored and mopey teen.
I slip my phone inside my bag to stop myself from reading the text again.
I’m over thinking. Reid was clearly on board with the sex-only arrangement. As long as he sticks to his side of the bargain and stays out of my plans for the Faulkner, I need only sit back and enjoy our fling.
Why, then, am I still wearing my underwear?
I
