Читать книгу Temptation In The Boardroom - Дженнифер Хейворд, Paula Roe - Страница 17
ОглавлениеFRANKIE COULDN’T GET into the car. The haunted, hunted look on Harrison’s face when she’d left, the way he’d been ever since Leonid had agreed to sign the deal, was gnawing at her. She’d expected him to be victorious and superior. Instead she’d found him dark and introspective.
Working nearly 24/7 with someone meant you were in tune with their moods, and the Harrison she’d witnessed tonight was one she hadn’t seen before. One that scared her. Leonid might have passed it off as exhaustion, distraction, but she knew it was much more.
Derrick gave her a quelling look. He wanted to get home to his family. He thought she was nuts standing here on the sidewalk, utterly caught in limbo.
She got into the car. They pulled smoothly away from the sidewalk, weaving into traffic. Her stomach churned in big, conflicted circles. She had led Leonid to believe he could depend on Harrison when in reality he would likely be bitterly disappointed. Whether Leonid had read between the lines or taken her words at face value was something she would never know.
A soft curse left her lips. She didn’t want anyone’s future revolving around her. Then to make her choice only to have Harrison turn into a stone wall when he had been handed everything he’d wanted? What is going on?
She clenched her hand into a fist and pressed it against the seat. Was he feeling guilty for what he was about to do to Leonid even though he’d laid his cards on the table? Or had he finally realized, with the final piece in place to destroy Anton Markovic, that vengeance was a poor substitute for a broken heart? That it would never bring his father back?
Or was it something else entirely? That call from Tom Dennison today? The twisting in her gut intensified. She couldn’t do it.
She tapped on the screen. Derrick opened it. ‘Yes, ma’am?”
“Can you take me back? I’ve forgotten something.”
He gave her a supremely patient look. “Of course. Let me just find somewhere to turn around.”
When he deposited her on the sidewalk outside Harrison’s building once more, she thanked him and told him to go home. “I may be a while.”
Derrick nodded. “Call me if you change your mind.”
She was out of her mind. Setting her jaw, she entered the building through the side entrance. The door required a thumb scan to get in but Harrison had taken care of that for her last week when she’d had to come collect some documents for him. She rode the whisper-quiet elevator to the penthouse, heart pounding in her ears.
The doors of the elevator swished open. The apartment was eerily silent as she moved through the entrance way and into the living room. The precious artwork glowed silently on its perfect cream backdrop. No Harrison.
His study was in darkness. A glow from the terrace suggested he was there. She walked through the living room and stepped outside. Harrison was standing at the railing, looking out at the skyline. Her heels clicked on the concrete as she walked toward him. He turned around, frowning. “Did I forget to give you something?”
“No.” Her knees betrayed just the slightest wobble as she took the last few steps toward him. “I just—” Her voice trailed off. Just what? What the heck was she doing here?
She came to a stop in front of him. Her gaze rose to his. He was as tall and commanding as ever, as stomach-clenchingly beautiful, but the tormented look dominated now. It emanated from every pore of him, blanketing her in his desperation. She pulled in a breath.
“I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
The shadows in his face darkened. “I told you I was fine. Go home, Francesca.”
“But you aren’t.” The words spilled from her mouth. “Ever since Leonid agreed to the deal, you’ve been off.”
“I’m fine.”
She frowned. “It’s what we’ve been working toward. I thought you would be happy.”
“I am happy.” The emotion vibrating in his voice sent a shiver down her spine. He turned to look at the skyline again. “It’s none of your concern, Francesca. Go home. I’ll see you in the afternoon.”
She stood her ground, legs shaking now. For a man who claimed to feel little emotion it was written in every taut muscle of his body. In the rigid column of his back, his neck. In the barely leashed confusion that surrounded him. It reached out and wrapped itself around her, pulling her toward him.
“Sometimes,” she said quietly, laying a hand on his arm, “the things we want the most, the things we think are going to make us feel better, don’t. Can’t because they were never the solution in the first place.”
He spun to face her, dislodging her hand. Antagonism poured off him in waves. “Nailing Anton Markovic to the ground is going to make me feel better, Francesca. Much better. Make no mistake about it.”
Her heart thudded against her rib cage. “Then why? Why are you like this?”
“Because I have too much going on in my head.” He practically yelled the words at her. “This is not another case of you saving the day, Francesca. It’s far more complex than one of your little sermons can fix.”
Her stomach lurched. “I didn’t suggest that.”
His mouth curled. “Go.”
“I won’t leave you like this.”
The deliberate way he looked at her made her pulse buzz in her ears. “You would be very wise to do so,” he suggested in a low, deep voice that made her insides liquefy. He lifted a finger and dragged it across her cheek, watching as she shivered in reaction. “Otherwise I will do what I was aching to do in the car and drown myself in this. And I think we’ve both agreed it’s an unacceptable result.”
His touch felt like fire on her skin. The kiss from London sizzled through her head, beckoning her on to sure destruction. They were like hot and cold fronts converging in a storm it seemed impossible to outrun.
But he was her boss. She loved her job. She really must go.
He slid his thumb down to her lips, his gaze holding hers as he traced the trembling outline of her mouth. “Go, Francesca. You’re the only thing making me feel alive right now. If you don’t, I can’t be responsible for what happens next.”
Run, her sensible side commanded, hurting man or not. But the other side of her, the one pulsing with an awareness of him so strong it made her mouth dry, wanted him to drown himself in her. Wanted to experience that type of passion. Because he made her feel more alive than she’d ever felt in her life. Being the center of his attention was hypnotizing.
The tremor in his hand as he stroked the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip made her heart turn over. She couldn’t go.
His dark gaze glittered. “Out. Now.”
“No.”
The word hung on the air between them, defiant and crystal clear. She watched the control fizzle in his eyes at the same time he reached for her hand and brought it to his mouth. He pressed his lips to her palm in an openmouthed kiss, as if tasting her very essence. Her pulse ran wild.
“You have five seconds to leave,” he murmured. “Or you don’t.”
She closed her eyes as he pressed another kiss to her palm. Counted out the seconds in her head. His soft curse split the night air.
“Francesca.”
She brought his hand to her mouth. Found his palm with her lips. He tasted hot, salty and hedonistically male. She wondered if he’d experienced the same stomach-churning intensity of it. The way he went completely still said he might have.
He let her play for a while, to know him. Then he curled his fingers around her wrist and brought her the two steps forward he needed to let her feel the heat his tall frame emanated.
“You’re sure?”
She nodded. His fiery, conflicted gaze scoured her face. “I won’t take an innocent.”
“I’m not.” She didn’t need to tell him there had only ever been one, awkward and disappointing as the sex had been.
The warm night air heated up around them, like it was catching fire, too. He slid his fingers into her French twist and started pulling pins out. The buzz in her ears was so loud she couldn’t hear them hit the concrete, one by one. She should have been terrified with what little she had to bring to this insanity. Instead she trusted him on a level she didn’t understand.
He pulled out the final pin. Her hair fell loose around her shoulders. He lifted a hand and fingered a silky strand, a curious look on his face.
“What?”
“I can’t figure you out,” he murmured. “Honest, fearless, unsure of yourself at times yet so sure of so many things on a bigger life level.” He wrapped a chunk of her hair around his finger and let it slide through his hand. “It’s why Leonid asked you that question tonight. Because the essence of you is good. It emanates from you.”
Her lips pursed. “It’s the way I was brought up. I don’t know any different.”
“I do.” He bent his head and put his mouth to the hollow between her neck and shoulder. “You don’t seem real to me.”
She wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing. But then it didn’t matter as she abandoned herself to the sensations his lips were evoking on her skin, the warm slide of his mouth across her heated flesh sending sparks to every inch of her body. He savored the hollow he’d found, pulled every reaction out of her with his lips and teeth. The arch of her neck, her soft sighs, guided him. More. He set his hand to her jaw, moved it to the other side and did the same masterful job to the matching sweet spot between her left shoulder and neck. It made her weak in the knees. She curled her fingers into his waist and anchored herself to him.
He slid his hand to her nape and took her mouth then. Hot, possessive and never-ending, it wasn’t like his kiss in the car. It promised carnal, exciting things to come and it made her rational brain shut down.
He pushed her jacket off her shoulders and threw it over the railing. Dispensed with the buttons on her blouse so expertly it made her wonder what the heck she was doing, thinking she could play in Harrison’s sandbox. By the time he’d undone the last button and bared her to his gaze, her cheeks were scarlet. The look of pure lust that crossed his face sent that thought flying off into the nether.
“You are so beautiful,” he murmured, absorbing her with his eyes. “I swear to God I thought you were an apparition the night I walked into the office and you were sitting in Tessa’s chair.”
She bit her lip. Remembered her complete mortification. How shameless she must have looked, her skirt riding up her thighs, her lace stockings on display...
“Oh, yes.” His gaze was on her face. “I had dreams about those. That and the handcuffs... They did me in.”
She covered her cheeks with her hands. He shook his head and pulled them away. “It was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen...”
Her heart beat a wild rhythm in her chest. The decadent, openmouthed kiss he pressed against her lips almost felled her unsteady legs. The thought she could never sit in that chair again without blushing, that this would change everything, crossed her mind as his palms closed over the weight of her breasts and his thumbs slid across her hardened nipples. “Don’t,” he growled in her ear as she stiffened beneath him. “Not tonight. Feel.”
She obeyed his command, because even in her inexperience, she knew only Harrison could ever make her feel like this. It had been that way from the beginning.
The pleasure he was lavishing on her as he rolled her nipples between his fingers with both hands unearthed a low moan from her throat. Sharp, urgent need lanced through her, sending her fingers to his biceps to curl into taut, hard male muscle. He rewarded her by sinking his teeth into her shoulder in a gentle bite that promised more was coming. Much more.
Oh, lord. She was so, so out of her depth.
His knee nudged her legs apart. She anchored her palms against his chest as he ran his hands up the back of her thighs. She had left the lace stockings off for an entire week after the incident, she’d been so mortified. But habit was habit and she loved feeling feminine. His swift intake of breath when he found the lace edging reverberated through her head. “You’re killing me.”
He slid an arm under her knees and picked her up. She had a vague memory of him doing that that night on the plane, but she’d been half unconscious then. Now she was fully alert, fully aware of the power caged in his muscular frame. Her heart raced in her chest, slamming against its containing walls. He was insanely strong. She had handed herself over to him to do what he liked. It inspired a feeling of mild panic.
He nudged the French doors shut behind them and carried her through the dimly lit penthouse and down a dark hallway toward the bedrooms. His was the big master suite at the side of the apartment. Her heart reached up to tattoo itself against her eardrums as he set her down in the middle of the lushly carpeted floor and switched on a lamp. She distracted herself with the jaw-dropping view of Central Park while he stripped off his tie and tugged his shirt collar open with a sense of purpose that made her heart stutter. Digging her toes into the plush carpet, she avoided the urge to turn and run out the door of his very expensive penthouse.
The deliberate way he moved back toward her almost rattled her poise completely. It must have shown on her face because he stopped in front of her, captured her hand and lavished another of those erotic, tongue-infused kisses to her palm. “Trust me.”
Everything inside her melted. Her gaze fused with his dark, tormented one. “I do.”
He curled her fingers around the top button of his shirt. She latched on to the direction like a lifeline, slipping the buttons free with hands that shook slightly but managed the job in a far less efficient process than his had. When she had them undone, he yanked the shirt from his trousers and threw it to the floor. He had the most amazing chest she’d ever seen on a man. She rocked back on her heels to take him in. Hard, muscled, honed by the hours he put in at the gym every week, he was the most perfect example of masculinity she’d ever seen. It was almost intimidating to touch him, but she couldn’t help herself. Her hands moved by instinct, sliding up and over him, wanting to learn every inch with this liberty she’d been given.
Everything about him was impenetrable, indestructible, except tonight his vulnerability allowed her a way in. It was intoxicating.
She slid her palms over his nipples. He tensed under her touch but held himself still. Fascinated by how rock hard the hair-roughened peaks were underneath her fingertips, like tiny pebbles, she explored them with the pads of her thumbs.
He groaned. “More.”
She wasn’t sure what he meant until he covered her hand with his and slid it down over his trousers. The scalding contact with the hard, thick length of him made the blood roar in her head. Eyes closed, she traced him, learned him. He leaned into her caress, his growl sliding into a velvety moan of approval. It made her feel empowered, emboldened. She stroked him more firmly, pressed her palm against the impressive bulge of him and felt him grow harder beneath her touch.
His palms returned to her thighs, sliding up the back of them. This time he slipped his fingers beneath the lace and caressed the ultrasensitive skin there with fingers that burned her skin. “These stay on.”
Frankie forgot her task completely as the raspy timbre of his voice shot through her. He slid his palms higher until he reached her lacy panties. Her hands fell to her sides, her head dropping to his chest as he nudged her legs apart with his knee, moved his fingers beneath the lace and touched her so intimately her back arched in pleasure.
“Harrison.” His name slid from her lips on a groan of pure pleasure. He repeated the caress again, his fingers sliding against her slick skin. Leisurely at first, he stroked her like he might a cat, caressing her nerve endings. Then he deepened it, intensified it. She let him take her weight as her knees buckled. His voice was a husky demand in her ear asking if she liked it. Commanding her to tell him when she wanted more. She did because this was beyond anything she’d ever experienced, it felt that good.
His hands left her aching flesh. She wanted to scream greedily that it wasn’t enough, beg for more, because she’d never experienced the type of pleasure he was giving her. But he was disposing with his trousers, intent on another kind of pleasure entirely. He slid off his briefs and kicked them aside. Her mouth went dry, her palms sweaty. She could have expected he’d be big because of his size but his arousal, proud and daunting, kicked her heart into a whole other gear.
He was as aroused by her as she was by him.
He pushed her blouse off her shoulders, found the back button of her skirt and undid it. She swallowed hard to inject some saliva into her mouth as her zipper went the way of her button and he nudged the skirt off her hips. Self-consciousness would have overwhelmed her then, as she stood there only in her lacy underwear, if she hadn’t been utterly fascinated by the ruddy color staining his cheekbones. The tortured look was gone. Urgent, compulsive desire was plastered across his face. He was totally and utterly fixated on her, as if he couldn’t believe she was real.
Her gaze tracked him as he backed up and sat down on the bed. He pulled a foil package from the night table drawer and rolled a condom on his impressive erection. She watched him, finding his beautiful body such a turn-on it was impossible to look away. His gaze lifted to hers when he’d finished, his eyes telling her exactly where she was supposed to be. She moved to mere inches in front of him.
“In my fantasy you had me in handcuffs.” His hot gaze singed her from head to toe. “But you didn’t need them, you had me totally under your control.”
Her legs felt as though she’d done a seven-hour shift at Masserias. He reached up, slid his fingers in the sides of her panties and stripped them off. She almost lost her footing when he moved his hand between her thighs and cupped her aching center. Squeezed. It was a blatant act of ownership that made her stomach dip. Sent her fingers clutching the hard muscles of his shoulders for support.
“I’m not averse to a woman tying me up,” he continued, easing his grip on her to fill her with a long finger instead. “But then you wouldn’t get this. And I want you as hot and wild for me as you were in my fantasy.”
Frankie closed her eyes at the seductive heat in his voice. It raked over her nerve endings and sent warmth flooding to the very place he was caressing. She couldn’t help her response, couldn’t help moving her hips against his hand every time he filled her. It was incredible.
He added another of those amazing fingers, palming the soft flesh of her buttocks with his free hand to hold her where he wanted her. A low moan escaped her lips.
“That’s right,” he murmured, spreading the fingers he had inside of her to maximize her pleasure. To ready her. “That’s exactly how you were.”
He withdrew from her. Left her hot and aching again, but only to shift both his hands to the backs of her thighs and lift her on top of him. She wrapped her legs around his waist, her thighs making contact with his hot, aroused body. Too many contact points fried her nerve endings. The unleashed power of him beneath her made her pulse speed up into an almost impossible awareness of his masculinity. But most intense of all were his eyes. Dark and full of want, she felt him all the way inside of her.
“You do something to me,” he rasped. “I can’t explain it.”
She couldn’t, either, but she felt it, too. She watched the desperation flicker back to life in his eyes as he fought it, fought the physical and mental connection they shared. The lack of control...it was a last-ditch effort to hold on to the darkness and she wouldn’t allow it. She brought her mouth down on his in a kiss so intimate, so soul-consuming, she was sure she would never forget it.
His hands bit into her bottom as he lifted her up and brought her down on the hard column of flesh that telegraphed his desire for her.
“Tell me,” he muttered against her lips, “if I’m hurting you...”
But he had brought her to the edge, to a greedy, grasping place where he was all she wanted. Inside of her. Exactly like his fantasy. Her body was malleable, soft as she accepted the tip of him. He was big; he stole her breath as he brought her down on him with firm hands. It was a tight, exquisite fit, one she almost couldn’t stand. But when he had filled her completely, she wanted more.
“Then what did I do? In your fantasy...?” she whispered.
He took the weight of her hips in his hands, his eyes locked on hers. “You rode me like an angel.”
Oh. She went down then, lost in the way he made her feel. She circled her hips around him. Took him deep inside, then retreated. His eyes caught fire. His hands helped her move. Then there was nothing between them except the sensation of being impaled on him. She took him again and again until her body was all soft heat, grasping him, needing him.
It was unmistakable, the sweet intensity that built inside of her then as his size, his girth touched a spot that promised heaven. She gripped his shoulders harder. He slid a hand between them and rubbed his thumb against her center. Back and forth in a path of fire that had her limbs clenching around him. “Give yourself to me,” he commanded roughly.
She closed her eyes. Let his thumb take her over the edge. Her back arched, white lights exploded in her head as an orgasm racked through her. Her gasp as it tore into the night was raw and pleasure-soaked. Animalistic.
It was hot and amazing and never-ending. When she finally came down. Harrison was watching her, a deadly heat in his eyes. Her lashes lowered. “Don’t,” he commanded, his thumb claiming the curve of her lip. “You were spectacular.”
She opened her eyes. Allowed him to part her mouth with his thumb, her breath coming hot and hard against his skin. She could taste herself on him. Taste what he’d done to her. It was too much. Overload.
He rolled onto his back and took her with him. He was buried deep inside of her, pulsing and rock-hard. Unsatisified. His gaze morphed into the darkest, deepest granite as it ate her up. He wanted her to blow his mind. To obliterate his thoughts.
She leaned forward, pressed her palms to his chest and rotated her hips in a slow, grinding circle. His hands tightened around the flesh of her bottom. Faster, harder, he urged her down on him until his eyes were glazed and she knew he had lost it completely. But she drew it out, knew he wanted her to. He drove up into her with awe-inspiring stamina, again and again, his erection sending sparks of aftershocks through her. Slowly, amazingly, she felt her pleasure build again, hovering over the edge of another sweet surge of heaven. This was why he’d made it last. Because he could give her this.
He read the tautness of her body, his face blanking as he took her hard and fast, fully in control now. “Again.”
She gave herself into the deep, piercing release, lost to him as he came with a hoarse shout, his hips bucking against her. Aftershocks jerked his powerful body. They racked through her as she dropped her head to his chest and tasted the salt of his skin. Nothing had ever felt so right. So perfect.
And yet it was so wrong. The cool night air sent reality flickering across her sweat-dampened skin. He was her boss. At least her temporary boss. And she’d just had scorching, wild sex with him.
Harrison rolled her beneath him, his big body holding her captive. His gaze found hers. Narrowed. “Stop thinking.”
“I can’t think,” she muttered. “My brain is mush.”
“Good.” He left the bed, disposed of the condom and came back to her, hooking a finger under the front closure of her lacy black bra. “How did this stay on?”
Her cheeks flamed. Because they’d been in such a hurry?
He lowered himself back onto the bed beside her. Her cheeks heated as she absorbed his magnificence. It was a bit overwhelming. Dark amusement gleamed in his eyes as he captured one of her hands, pressed his thumb to her palm and worked the tension from it.
“It bothered you to say that to Leonid tonight...”
She closed her eyes as the magical pressure of his fingers made her tingle right down to her toes. “Not because I don’t think you’re a good man. You are. It’s what happens to Leonid’s legacy that I have an issue with. You tearing his company apart like that... My family has owned Masserias for thirty years. If someone bought them out and changed everything I’d be brokenhearted.”
He pressed his thumb into the joint between her thumb and forefinger. Frankie almost moaned out loud. “So why didn’t you go into the family business if you love it so much?”
“My parents wanted me to. I wanted to forge my own path. I’ve wanted to work as a PA for as long as I can remember. I always thought it was so glamorous, but challenging at the same time.”
“Glamorous? With a tyrant like me?”
She opened her eyes. “You are a different case.”
His gaze darkened with intent. “Okay,” she admitted, “I love working with you when you’re not in one of your moods. You have an amazing brain.”
He grabbed her other hand and started working on it. “Only my brain?”
“And the rest of you...” she conceded. “I appreciated all of you from the beginning, much to my dismay. That is so utterly unlike me.”
“You had a thing for my brother...”
She gave her head a shake. “Why do you keep saying that? Coburn is attractive and charming and I like working for him, but I’ve never had a thing for him.”
“You idol-worship him.”
His tone was decisive. She put a hand on his chest and levered herself up to look at him. “My lord, you Grants have the biggest egos. I do not idol-worship Coburn. He is an inspiring, wonderful person to work for. He treats me like I’m an equal, valued partner. A somebody...but that’s it.”
He frowned. “Of course you’re a somebody. You’re excellent at your job.”
She glowed at his praise. Harrison meant every word he said. “I was a disaster with you at first.”
“Because your mind was in the gutter. Exactly where mine was.”
The warmth in her cheeks intensified. “Sometimes you need validation,” she told him. “My parents didn’t think a career was the right place for me. I never had a good GPA. It was average, if that. They thought I should be managing Masserias because I’m so good with people.” Her mouth curved. “My dad says I have the magic touch.”
“You certainly do.”
The meaningful tone in his voice made her swat him. “Harrison.”
He unsnapped her bra. She arched away from the mattress to allow him to strip it off, although that proved to be a bad idea because the slide of his fingers over the bare curve of her breast, over its taut center, were infinitely distracting.
“What about your brothers and sisters? Did they go into the family business?”
“I have five.” Her mouth twisted in a wry smile. “One’s a neurosurgeon, one’s a psychologist, then there’s the chemical engineer, banker and if you like the non-traditional route, my brother Salvatore is an entrepreneur with a state-wide series of fitness clubs at twenty-six.”
“The one who forgot the cake?”
She nodded. “So you can see why I was the obvious choice to take over Masserias... The unspectacular one of the bunch.”
His chin lowered. “I think that’s an inaccurate description. You handle people with a deftness I’ve rarely experienced, Francesca. You have great natural instincts for business and you speak three languages.”
So did her sister Federica: English, Italian and Spanish. And she was a psychologist.
She gave him a pained look. “You don’t need to try and make me feel better. I’m at peace with who I am.”
“Are you?” She didn’t like how his far too perceptive gaze seemed to look right through her. “You should shift some of your absolute truths into the department governing your opinion of yourself. Ten minutes with Juliana and she’s explaining the psychology of Leonid to you. That’s a gift.”
“Speaking of Leonid,” she offered casually, “care to talk about what’s making your head too full?”
His eyes flashed. “No, in fact.”
The intimacy of their position, the way the hard muscles of his stomach quivered as she traced her way down toward the sexy dip between his abs and leg spurred her to dig a bit more. “Could you put up enough of a stink with the board that they would maintain Siberius as a separate entity? Keeping in mind, of course, we’re only talking in hypotheticals.”
His gaze narrowed. “Perhaps. But when you only have so much political capital with a board, you choose your battles wisely.”
“Right.” She left that hanging in the air between them because she wanted him to think about it.
“Francesca,” he growled. “Stop meddling.”
She followed the sexy dip down over his muscled thigh, luxuriating in the hard, densely packed muscle beneath her fingertips. “Juliana says Anton Markovic is an evil man. That he has underworld connections that make her wish Leonid didn’t do business with him.” She looked up at him. “Does he know you’re after him?”
“No.” He captured her exploring hand in his. “And you can put his name out of your head. Juliana’s right. Anton Markovic is not a man to be played with.”
“Yet you are...”
“Francesca.” He bent his head and put his mouth to the curve of her breast. “I think I’m going to have to silence you.”
That might be fine, too. His mouth closed over her hardened nipple, scoring it with his teeth. The way he used those sharp incisors was truly...remarkable. A moan broke from her throat. “That is not fair.”
He drew her nipple into his mouth with a hard suction that made her whole body go rigid. The slide of his hair-roughened leg as it parted hers rendered her distraction complete. He really wasn’t finished with her.
She moved against him, her smooth legs luxuriating in the feel of his harder male limbs. His teeth and lips teased her other nipple into a hard, aching button. It took him about five seconds to drag her back into the maelstrom.
“Now we go freestyle.”
Freestyle? Oh, the fantasy. That was apparently over and they were onto a very vivid, very real exploration of her stomach. The tender, vulnerable skin of her lower abdomen... She clutched his coarse hair in her fingers. He couldn’t do that. Not after what they’d just done.
She tugged on his hair. “Harrison.” He made a low sound in his throat and nudged her tensed legs apart. She jammed her eyes shut as his fingers parted her and he slid his tongue against her slick flesh. The way he savored the essence of them was too intimate. Too much. But then again everything about tonight had been too much.
He rasped his approval as her legs fell open and she surrendered completely. His licks turned long and languorous, intent on waking her body up. Then they became purposeful, unrelenting. He waited until her limbs stiffened, she dug her hands in his hair and came, shuddering against his mouth before he moved his way back up her body, slid another condom on and took her with a deep, breath-stealing thrust. She threw back her head and reveled in his possession. In the hot, sweet perfection they made together.
When he sought his release with a ragged groan and buried his mouth in her throat, she held him to her while the storm they had created together unleashed its final fury. His breathing slowed, evened out. It was long minutes before she levered herself up onto her elbows and saw that he’d passed out in her arms.
A primal instinct, a need to nurture, stirred deep inside her. It was stronger than the magnitude of what she’d done with her career tonight. Stronger than all of it. Because in that moment, she knew no matter what the morning brought, this had been right. She had pulled him back from the edge.
If it had also tipped her feelings for him, a man she could never have, into dangerous territory? If her own emotions were wildly out of control? That was the stuff of tomorrow.
