Kitabı oku: «The Dare Collection August 2019», sayfa 7

Just one more taste. Just one more minute, then I’ll put a stop to this and walk away.

Energy pours through me, electrifying every cell in my body. The reality of Blair Cameron has blown my mind. This room has never hosted such agreeable negotiations. I feel a new shiny brass plaque is in order to commemorate the great contract agreement of the Faulkner Group and Cameron Interiors.

But I want more now I’ve had one taste. I can’t help myself. Knowing she’s still touching herself under that dress, thinking of me, wanting me, recalling fantasies of me...

We part, panting and gasping.

‘As good as you fantasised?’ My voice is gruff. I’m at the office. It’s before ten in the morning and all I can think about is laying her back on the oak conference table for a look under this dress.

Her mouth is swollen and I touch her lips, wiping the moisture from them with the pads of my fingers. They’re smooth, red, a sexy haven I want to see slack with ecstasy, gasping my name and wrapped around my dick.

She nods, her head shaky, but then, in a bold move I should have expected, she sucks the pad of my index finger into her mouth and swivels her hips so her belly crushes my erection between us. ‘Then I would have asked you to touch me.’

The groan in my head abolishes any reservation and spurs me on.

Her lips return to mine, her kiss sexy and bold, slaying me.

In one move I hoist her up and deposit her on the table, stepping into the space she creates for me by spreading her thighs. She doesn’t care that she’s creased her dress by bunching it up her bare, toned legs. She doesn’t care that we could be disturbed at any minute. My own workplace principles are shot to hell by the heat coming from between her legs as I wedge myself closer. I can’t get close enough.

I kiss her again, this time hissing at the ferocity with which she twists my hair. But revenge tastes as sweet as her mouth when I slide my hand up one thigh, my fingers joining hers tangling in the shoved-aside crotch of her damp underwear and her soft, slick centre.

This is madness. What the hell is she doing to me? Any minute now I’ll come to my senses and stop.

She bucks against my hand, her fingers and mine sliding together to rub all the right places, and I wedge my hips closer to stop her slipping from the edge of the table. Then she snatches her own hand away so she can brace her arms behind her on the table.

‘Yes,’ she hisses around our kiss. ‘Oh... Reid!’

My fingers glide over her swollen clit. A triumphant growl resonates past my tight throat. I pull away from her mouth to watch her pleasure streak across her beautiful face as I work the bundle of nerves. ‘This is what you used to think about?’

She nods as I glance down to where all that deliciousness is exposed for my eyes only. I enjoy the view of my fingers working her, loving her gasp when I push one finger inside her and continue to circle her clit with my thumb.

‘Yes...and I thought about you last night while I made myself come with my vibrator.’ Her hips undulate in time with the rhythm of my plunging finger.

Fuck. I’m toast. This woman is almost too hot for me to handle. ‘Oh, I’m going to want to see that some time.’ I reward her with a second finger and revel in the cry snatched from her throat.

Her 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.

CHAPTER FOUR
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 sigh, applying another slick of gloss to my bottom lip for good measure. I’ve spent the year following Josh’s betrayal working long hours, clawing back a client list, rebranding C&L Interiors and putting my personal life on hold. Now it’s time to have a little of what I want and truly put the past behind me.

But with Reid, of all men?

He doesn’t trust easily, that much is clear from some of the comments he’s made. And I understand. I trusted Josh even after the cheating, accepting his seemingly heartfelt apologies, even counselling him through his confusion over his sexuality. I snort at my own stupidity. I spent hours ignoring my own needs while listening to his assurances that we could stay friends, still work together even though we were ending things as a couple.

My stomach pinches as I recall the shock of arriving at the office the Monday following our break-up to find no sign of him, current client files wiped from the computer and the business account stripped of funds.

I hover near the laundry basket, debating the pros and cons of following Reid’s sexy request. I don’t need his trust to enjoy this. I can make the most of our mutual attraction, reclaim my personal life as fiercely as I’ve fought to rebuild my business. Surely I’ve done the hardest part—admitting I fantasised about him and demanding he play the starring role as I live out those fantasies.

I close my eyes, recalling his kiss this morning in his boardroom...my pulse speeds and my internal muscles clench just thinking about the way his lips commanded mine just as I’d always imagined; the way he touched me, his big frame holding me; the way my body felt vibrantly alive for the first time in a year, reality outstripping every Reid fantasy I’ve ever had.

My stomach flips, excitement winning.

Before I can change my mind, I hike up my dress and slide off my lacy thong, tossing it in the laundry basket with a liberating finality. I smooth my palms over my hips, the sensual chill of the fabric lining my dress of choice joining the cool air between my legs—a sensual promise that makes my breath catch as if Reid is already in the room. Just like the promise of his text, the promise of his words.

‘Expect to come a lot. Expect my very enthusiastic and frequent attention. Expect to have all your fantasies fulfilled.’

His car is waiting outside my ground-floor flat in Parson’s Green when I emerge, determined to embrace the arrangement I set in motion. He steps from the back and greets me with a chaste kiss to the cheek. But his mouth twists in the rare but astounding smile I’ve always adored, his scruff-covered jaw scrapes against my skin, sparking my nervous system alive as if he has the unique key to my erogenous zones, and his warm breath tickles my neck as he whispers a gruff, ‘You look beautiful.’

‘Thanks.’ I stifle my body’s uncontrolled judder of pleasure that he, Reid Faulkner, wants me. My eighteen-year-old self would flip cartwheels down the street.

I stroke the lapel of his jacket, this one navy where this morning’s had been charcoal. ‘You don’t look so bad yourself.’ He’s wearing a fresh shirt, the subtle scent of his cologne and undertones of something soapy telling me he’s taken time out of his day to prepare for our ‘dinner date’.

I slide into the car and press my thighs together, the cool leather on the backs of my legs going some way towards counteracting Reid’s appearance, which floods my pelvis with gooey heat and hijacks my pulse with anticipation.

He settles beside me and signals to his driver but leaves the privacy screen down, and I try to hide my disappointment that he’s not going to ravish me before we even make it to the restaurant.

‘How long have you lived in Parson’s Green?’ he asks, setting the tone to polite conversation.

I answer, my hands clenched in my lap. I don’t want to talk about the house I once shared with Josh. The house he encouraged me to remortgage to bolster our growing business and the debts he could so easily ignore when he walked away with our most lucrative clients.

‘Where do you live?’ I’m helpless against the way his mouth moves as he answers, remembering the decadent way he kissed me this morning—full pelt, like he’d been dying to do it since I stepped into the Faulkner Group offices the day before.

I half listen to him talk about Chelsea and how he and his brothers all live within a mile of each other, and close to Graham. I remember how close-knit they were growing up, although Kit and Drake seemed to squabble a lot, dragging Reid into the occasional argument on the rare occasions he was home when I visited.

‘You’ve drifted—everything okay?’ Reid’s voice draws me back to our date. ‘Nervous?’ he asks, and I want him to touch me, to shove my body into that heady euphoria of this morning.

I latch onto the lifeline of his dark blue eyes and nod. ‘A little. This is my first date—’ I make air quotes to let him know I’m not shifting the goalposts ‘—since Josh and I broke up.’

His hand lifts to push some hair back from my face but his fingers make no contact with my skin, to my endless frustration. ‘That didn’t end well for you, I’m sensing. Tell me about this dickhead of a fiancé who let you go.’

I grip my clutch bag and stare out of the window while I organise my emotions on the subject. Funny that admitting I was duped romantically is easier to confess than how naive I was businesswise, perhaps because, with the exception of Reid’s father, no one in my life ever really believed I was capable of running my own business. Even Josh, when I first suggested we start our own company, baulked at the idea, only coming around when I offered the small nest egg I’d inherited from my grandmother as the necessary start-up capital.