His hands roam in every place I’ve thought of him touching, of him claiming, since I left him last night. He’s rough and commanding, gripping my curves and devouring my neck with openmouthed kisses. Every sensation is ignited and all I can do is hold on. With my arms around his shoulders, I can barely breathe, the heat suffocating me.
I don’t doubt he’s missed this as much as I have. Maybe he did spend his day like I did, obsessed with the idea of continuing what we started yesterday.
With ease he spreads my legs, standing between them and undoes his buckle. My back is pressed against the hard metal. I hook my knee around his hip and drop my head back against the elevator wall. “Suzette,” he growls against my neck. It’s even hotter now in the small space, because of how much I want him and because of the need in his voice.
He strokes his fingers between my legs, teasing me and I can barely stand it. “You were hot and bothered all night, weren’t you?” he says, his piercing gaze staring deep into mine. He smirks while he asks the questions, confident that he’s right.
“No, I barely thought of you.”
He chuckles at my response and then calls me a liar as two of his thick fingers push inside of me. “Tell me how much you want me.”
“I want you,” I moan, and rock as much as I can to feel more of him inside of me.
When he tsks, stilling his motions, I open my eyes. “Uh, uh, uh. If you’re going to move your hips like that, it won’t be for anything but me.”
He takes his cock in his fist and lines it up with my wet slit, then thrusts in. The movement is so hard and controlling that it takes my breath away. I gasp at the size of him and he pauses, buried deep inside of me, as I adjust to his girth.
“That’s my good girl,” he says in a breathy voice against my neck. It doesn’t take long for him to move again, and I meet him with every thrust, my heels digging into his ass.
“Yes,” he coaxes. “You have no fucking idea how hot you are,” he groans, pulling a strap of my dress down and kissing, nipping down my shoulder to my breast.
My voice deserts me and I can’t reply other than to angle my hips to take him deeper. My nails scratch at his jacket, in an effort to hold on to him.
It’s fast. It’s dirty. And I want to remember every last detail.
The elevator door dings. I’m still trying to get my breathing to a normal rate, but at least my hair doesn’t give anything away. My dress is as smooth as it can be, but there’s no doubt that I’m a hue pinker than I ought to be given that the city has a chill in the air this late in April.
As I walk with him, keeping pace, I remind myself there are no obligations. This is nothing but a fling, or an office fuck buddy. Given that I haven’t dated in the better part of a decade other than the one-night stands I had to celebrate leaving my piece of shit ex, I have no idea what we are.
But I want more of it.
The thought of whatever we are is both exciting and terrifying. Adrian makes me feel things, but I’m smart enough not to fall for him. I have to be, or this could end very badly. Hands to my hair, I smooth it down one more time and prepare to tell him a quick good night. My heels click on the marble floor of the lobby and I note that the place is nearly vacant. But not entirely. No one looks our way, though. I thank my lucky stars for that.
As we get to the large glass doors that lead to the bustling streets, I start what I think will be an acceptable farewell, “That was—”
“Come with me tonight.” He’s firm, businesslike as he stands toe to toe with me, waiting for an answer. His words reverberate through me, cutting off the farewell in addition to my thoughts.
“You don’t need to buy me dinner.”
“Do you eat?” he questions and there’s not a trace of humor.
“Yes.”
“Good.” His eyes glint. “I want to feed you. Besides, we have things to discuss and we have—”
“You’ve made decisions regarding my department?” I question him, the sight from this afternoon putting me on edge instantly. “The only thing I’ve received from your team is a request for the client list.”
That list is as good as gold. Everything they wanted in that email was essentially preparing paperwork so that another person could take over if need be. I’m not stupid, but I am under contract and not the only one with the list.
“We won’t be discussing work at dinner.”
“I can damn well discuss what I’d like.”
“Watch that mouth of yours.” His mouth quirks but he doesn’t quite smile. More of a smirk. “It’s after six,” he whispers, and with the look he gives me, I glance over my shoulder to be sure no one is watching.
Adrian fixes his cuffs, readjusting his sleeves. “I have a late meeting with an associate. His wife wanted to do a tour of New York on a private ship. You could accompany me. The meeting will be short, and they’re good company. I’ve heard the chef they hired for tonight is excellent as well.”
The heat from the elevator is back, and all of it is on my face. “I thought we were just—”
“I want more than sex, Suzette. Although I enjoy that immensely.”
“What exactly do you want, Mr. Bradford?”
“To get to know you,” he says simply.
It throws me off. What we were doing in his office and the elevator is so forbidden that I’d assumed we would have strong boundaries and never cross them. Getting to know each other is definitely crossing them. “Well … the first thing I typically tell someone is I’m divorced and I hate the male species.”
The lift of his brow is telling: I wasn’t acting like I hated him in the elevator. “Surely there is more to you than your dating status.”
I hesitate. “I’m not looking for anything serious.”
“Having dinner after sex is serious?”
“Hanging on your arm as a date to an after-hours event? Being seen together … that’s not discreet.”
“I assure you, my evenings are discreet. Nearly everyone I speak to has signed an NDA with me at some point or another and it’s all business.”
“If you think you need to woo me or somehow …” I can’t finish. I don’t know how to say what I’m thinking.
“Or what?”
I decide to be blunt. “I don’t mind just being a fuck toy,” I admit to him, my voice low. “In fact, I enjoy it.”
He groans as if I said it just to torture him. “Your fucking mouth, Suzette.”
He must know how hot he is when he does that. When he speaks to me like that. It’s not fair in the least. I have to bite down on my lip to keep from grinning. A genuine smile, different from the one I use in meetings or when I pass people in the hall at work.
He straightens and runs a hand over his mouth. “I’ll make this very simple for you. I’m attracted to you. I’d like you to come with me tonight. Now say yes.”
I try to read his expression. Unsettled and hot, I search for the meaning behind his words and the meaning behind his intentions. More importantly, what they’ll do to me.
“Don’t make me beg, Suzette,” he states as if he really would. “Come. Say yes.”