Please (Please #1) Page 8

  Anticlimactic.

  I booted up my computer at 9:01 a.m. and glanced beside me. Hunter’s door was slightly ajar, which meant he was inside. I checked my emails, saw a few from him with tasks for the day, and was about to respond to a question about a spreadsheet when the instant message pinged.

  Hunter Carlisle: Good morning. Bring in coffee.

  The man was busy, sure, but also a touch lazy. It had to be acknowledged.

  Olivia Jonston: Sure thing. Be there in a sec.

  I stared at the screen for a moment. And nope, just as I expected—no thank you.

  “Lazy and rude,” I muttered, trudging off to the kitchen.

  That was another thing I needed to learn—walking properly in a skirt and heels. Trudging was for hoodies and jeans. You didn’t trudge through the office in a position of power. You stalked. Or marched. Or…walked. I’d settle for walking, which was not easy to do gracefully in three-inch heels, no matter what the fashion models and Kimberly might ask me to believe.

  After I got the coffee and slowed to a trudging sort of lurch so I didn’t spill, I set my cup down and went in to deliver his. I put it down in the usual spot before straightening up.

  He was staring at me.

  Giving him a slight scowl, I waited to hear what the problem was. When nothing came, I raised my brow in expectation. Usually he just came out and told me what he wanted—this silent staring thing wasn’t helpful. I would think it was my outfit, or the way I was walking, but his gaze didn’t leave my eyes.

  Finally, unimpressed he couldn’t read my facial sign language, I asked, “What?”

  “You have your instructions for today?”

  “I saw you emailed, yes.”

  “And do you have any questions?”

  I swiped my hair out of my face, wishing I’d brought a clip. “I haven’t reviewed it yet.”

  “Let me know.” He turned back to his computer.

  “Yes, sir,” I said automatically as I turned. I practiced my walk, confident in his focus on his work and therefore not looking. The heels gave me a lot of hip movement, which was probably fine—my booty wasn’t big enough to take out small children as I walked by—but I still walked too much on my toes.

  At the door, I snapped as I remembered lunch and turned back around. Hunter was staring at me.

  I flushed so hard my face probably bled through my makeup to match my skirt. He’d caught me practicing.

  “I was just…” I whirled my finger in the air, vaguely pointing at my shoes. “I’m not used to heels. So I was just… Never mind. Did you want me to have lunch delivered?”

  “No. We’ll go out.”

  “We will? Since when do you go out for lunch?” I swiped at my hair again.

  “We don’t have that much on our plate today. It’s the calm before the storm. We’ll go out.”

  I shrugged and headed back to my desk, knowing he’d also caught that weird seam on my legs that didn’t match my outfit. He was the type of guy to notice. My plan to dress to impress swerved a little toward “trying too hard.”

  I put the thought out of my head. If he hadn’t said anything yet, he didn’t plan to. And he couldn’t get me on the wearing tights thing, because I didn’t have a contract on that. Technically, I was in the clear.

  The morning passed quickly, as the last two mornings had. It didn’t help that Hunter kept interrupting me with his coffee needs, or like last time, his water need. Without Brenda, I forgot all about it. Even still, it felt like he was pinging me every ten minutes.

  Or maybe he was, just to see the circus coming through on her new stilts. Doing it with an audience was even worse. If the man ever laughed, or even smiled, I was sure he’d be cracking up at my entrances.

  Close to lunchtime, I received an email from the VP of marketing needing a signature. Knowing it needed a quick turnaround, I printed it off immediately and walked it into Hunter’s office. He glanced up at my approach, as he normally did today, and then looked at the clock.

  “Lunch in about twenty?” I asked as I neared him.

  “Yes, that’s fine.” His gaze hit the paper in my hand.

  “This is that document you’ve been waiting for,” I explained as I stopped at the side of his desk and handed it to him.

  He dropped it to the surface in front of him and studied its contents, making me realize there was a page number at the bottom, indicating there was more than one page.

  “Oh wait,” I said quickly, stepping around the desk and leaning over.

  He backed up, rolling his chair out of my way as if I had rabies.

  “Jeez, not into my perfume?” I muttered absently as I studied the page and then flipped it over. I knew very well I hadn’t printed two-sided, and was pretty sure there weren’t two pages in the document. I turned it back over, only belatedly realizing it wasn’t a one, but a smudge of ink.

  “Oh, it’s—” I cut off as a warm hand touched my thigh.

  My breath hitched as electricity rolled through me.

  Frozen, unsure, I waited for what came next. Maybe he was about to move me to the side.

  His soft touch traveled up the inside of my leg.

  My eyes fluttered closed, and I felt the heat as that palm slid upward. His thumb traced the seam in the tights.

  “Oh,” I breathed. My sex started to pound. My nipples contracted.

  I was in big trouble.

  His hand paused for a moment. The roll of his chair filled the space. Another hand, applying firm pressure, touched my other leg.

  Walk away, Olivia! Walk away right now!

  My fingers dug into the leather of his desk pad. My breath came in fast pants. His hands didn’t move as he waited for me to do the right thing. I had the power to enforce our deal. And I should’ve. I should’ve straightened up and walked away right then.

  But I wanted him so bad.

  I could hear his breathing, deep and even. It contrasted mine, fast and shallow.

  The pressure of his palms increased, branding my skin with his touch. His thumb stroked, sending ripples of pleasure up my body. I dropped my head, not able to get enough breath. Those condoms were so close. I wanted to feel him push into my body so bad.

  “Hunter,” I whispered, not knowing what else to say. Losing my grip, and only able to think of his touch. I needed him in a way I couldn’t remember needing anyone.

  I leaned forward, further onto the desk. I bent, exposing more of myself.

  Giving him the permission he was looking for.

  Chapter Eight

  His hands began to climb, slowly at first, inching along my stockings until he pushed up, under the skirt. His fingers moved over the edges of the garter. The heat of his touch seared my inner thighs.

  “More,” I begged, tingling all over.

  His hands glided up and over my bare butt cheeks. He lifted the skirt, bunching it at my waist. His palms slid back down to my skin, kneading as his thumbs slipped into my recess. A shift of his position, and suddenly one of those thumbs moved over my swollen sex, covered with the moist lace of my thong.

  “Hmm,” I said, drooping over the desk with closed eyes.

  The chair rolled again as that thumb rubbed. I felt hot lips grace the inside of my thigh right above the tights. His tongue licked up until it traced my panty line. I moaned as he sucked in skin.

  His thumb left my skin. I waited, feeling the cool air on the line of moisture from his mouth, so close to where I needed it. Fingers appeared then, tracing along the edge before dipping under my panties. Material slid aside, exposing my center.

  His hands moved my legs further apart before his mouth, hot and wet, covered my folds. The suction coaxed a deep and sultry moan from my throat.

  “Oh,” I sighed, melting toward the desk.

  His tongue tickled my nub in lazy circles, parting my folds and dipping in. He sucked again, running back down my center before landing on, and sucking in, my nub. I rocked into his mouth, feeling his rhythmic suction. Feeling
his tongue working me in tandem with his mouth. My panting increased in strength. A long, low moan ripped from my throat.

  “Please, Hunter,” I begged. My body started to fracture. Cracks started to form. “Please,” I whispered, licking my lips.

  His rhythmic suction sped up. I gyrated in small movements. My moans grew louder. The pressure in my body so extreme it was almost painful.

  The sensations exploded into an orgasm that jolted me forward. I shook against his desk, consumed with the waves of pleasure crashing over me. My body drooped even more as my chest heaved from my labored breathing.

  I heard his drawer open. Foil crinkled.

  My heart was already beating fast, but now it started to hammer wildly. My body wound up again as I worried about the line I just crossed, and knowing I was about to tap dance over an even bigger one. Expectation shortened my breath, though. Chased away logic once again. I was swollen and tender, sensitive to the touch. I wanted to feel him inside of me.

  A belt jingled. The whisper of pants falling filled the air, followed by the fabric slide of boxers or boxer briefs moving down his muscular legs.

  Oh God, this is it. Am I really going to do this?

  I knew my answer.

  My chest tightened up. I felt like this was my first time: half afraid, half excited. My fingers clutched the desk in anticipation. My breath caught in my throat, waiting.

  His blunt tip touched my wetness and slid from one end to the other, and then back again, parting my folds and bracing at my entrance.

  I was about to let Hunter Carlisle take what he wanted. I was about to let him win. He would finally get the girl who said no.

  I had no idea if he’d want me on the other side of this. I had no idea if my job would still stand.

  He paused just at that moment, probably seeing me tense up. Probably wondering if I wanted to rip away and run for the door again.

  I wondered the same thing.

  “Tell me,” he commanded, his thighs pushed up against mine. “Tell me to fuck you.”

  I wanted to rock backward, to get some movement, but his hands held my hips possessively. He held the reins of control. He pushed for my submission.

  “Tell me,” he said again, using that soft command that weakened my resolve.

  “Fuck me, Hunter,” I whispered.

  “That’s my girl.”

  His large manhood pushed into me, stretching me to the point of pain. All the air blasted out of my lungs as sweet glory coursed through my body. The world stopped spinning as he filled me completely and lighted me on fire.

  “Yes,” I sighed.

  He started moving, slowly at first, getting my body used to his size. It didn’t take him long to speed up, clearly feeling my urgency. Matching it with his own.

  “Yes,” I said again.

  He jerked my hips back as he bore down. He pulled out almost completely before rocking forward again, knocking me against the desk. Again. My body thudded against the wood. His skin clashed against mine. He pushed faster and harder, hitting all the right places. Dominating me with his powerful thrusts.

  “Harder,” I begged, wanting him to pound away my presence of mind. Needing him to take me out of myself, like the dress and the lingerie did.

  “Do you like it when I fuck you, Olivia?” His voice was deep and velvety. So intense. So consuming.

  Pleasure caressed me as he pushed harder. The harsh language contrasted with the silky tone sparked my heat higher. A palm in the middle of my back pushed me down, flat to the desk. He was in complete control.

  “Yes,” I breathed, the sparks of pleasure turning into scorching bursts in my core.

  He hammered into me, rocking the desk. Pounding my body against it. Pinning me with his strength. Working me with his size.

  The heat pulsed hotter still, throbbing. “Oh God,” I moaned, the tightness unbearable. I couldn’t quite get there, though. I was right on the edge, but I couldn’t hit that last hurdle. I needed something to push me over. “More,” I moaned, straining. Tightening up all over. My toes curled. My hands clutched the desk.

  “Hunter,” I begged, “Please.”

  His upper body lowered over mine. His thrusts grew deep and intense. The desk thudded under us, rocking forward on the floor. With his mouth close to my ear, he commanded, “Come with me.”

  Like flicking a light switch, a wave of raw pleasure hit me. I screamed his name, then God’s, then lost the ability to speak altogether, lost in wave after wave of world-ending sensation. I shivered and quaked and moaned under him as he shuddered above me. He moaned in my ear before bending down to lightly kiss my neck.

  When I stopped climaxing, he straightened up, pulling me with him. His arms wrapped around me, holding me close for a moment as he trailed light kisses up my neck to just below my ear. Then he whispered, “Always remember, the material things enhanced your beauty, they didn’t create it.”

  He stepped away, and I knew a moment of regret as his body left mine. Taking a slow, quiet moment, only our combined breath ringing in the room, he adjusted my panties and pulled down my skirt. Once done, he put himself to rights, smoothing away all signs of what we’d just done.

  He picked up the paper. “Let me check over this document before we go to lunch.”

  He nudged me to the side with his chair as he sat in it. Then turned away, cutting me off.

  I was excused. I could see my way out.

  Wow.

  If there was a way to feel more cheap and forgettable, I didn’t know what it was.

  I pulled at the hem of my blouse, then smoothed it out. “I’ll just…wait at my desk…”

  He didn’t acknowledge the sound of my voice.

  Wow.

  I couldn’t help my stiff back as I left the room. Nor could I help the hollow feeling in my gut. I’d been screwed over a time or two in my life, but I’d never felt this…small.

  I sat slowly in my chair, staring at nothing. The pleasant ache of my sex reminded me of what I’d just done.

  I’d let Hunter Carlisle win.

  He’d taken what he wanted, and then he’d dismissed me. I’d let him assume control, and dominance, trusting that he’d take care of me in the process, and he’d done what he always did—fuck and then move on. I had just become like every other admin, contract or not. I let myself be used.

  I rubbed at my chest absently. This hurts.

  As a surge of tears overcame my eyes, I stood and quickly made my way to the bathroom.

  This is how he operates, I tried to remind myself. A man who worked with a personal contract didn’t put his heart out there. He’d said it wasn’t personal. It was business.

  It didn’t feel like business.

  As I stood in front of the mirror, I wiped angrily at my face. Those other women might’ve been able to do this—they might’ve been able to shut off, and use him how he was using them—but I couldn’t work like that.

  I let the pain consume me a moment longer, let two more tears fall, and then tucked it all away and lifted my chin. I took deep, cleansing breaths to calm the sobs.

  I had known what might happen with that first touch. I knew when I should’ve said no, and I’d still said yes. Shame on me. Now I knew what waited through the rabbit hole, and that the best sex of my life wasn’t worth the pain and degradation I felt afterward.

  The solution was simple: stop giving myself away. If he wouldn’t be a decent human being, then he would remain my boss until the month was up, and then he would be the CEO of the company I worked for. The End. Someone else could play the power and dominance games—I was checking out.

  Hunter emerged from his office a half-hour later with the cloak of business wrapped tightly around him. He walked with his shoulders straight and square, braced to the world. His face, so incredibly handsome, had set in a stone mask with hard eyes.

  His bearing, and his movements, suddenly seemed so severe. The cold reserve with which he used to amplify his powerful persona contrasted heavily with
the soft touches and passionate embrace from earlier.

  And then I saw it. Like standing on the street and looking up at a light flicking on in a dark room, I saw past his harsh exterior to what lay beneath. Finally, I understood. Hunter Carlisle kept the world at arm’s reach to safeguard himself. He didn’t love, because he didn’t want people getting close. He enforced contracts and used harsh language to keep it physical. He was trying to protect himself at the expense of others.

  Well bully for him. Whatever his reasons, it didn’t make it right.

  I assumed my own professional mask. I raised my eyebrows as he approached in a silent question. What do you want?

  He frowned slightly as he laid the document on my desk. “This looks fine. Go ahead and send it back and then we’ll go.” He slipped his hands into his pockets.

  Hiding the evidence of those digits, eh, bub?

  Without a word, I took the page and headed to the copier to use its scanning feature. When back, and loading it to email, I said, “Brenda put a scanner on order, by the way, so we don’t have to waste time walking back and forth from the copier.”

  “Whatever you need.”

  I snorted. If a scanner could fix all my problems, I’d be a merry woman, indeed.

  Email sent, I reached down for my handbag and moved around the desk to him. I paused, eyebrows raised again, wondering why he wasn’t walking forward.

  “Have everything?” he asked as he glanced at my computer.

  “Yes.”

  “You won’t be coming back. Do you need your computer?”

  Startled, I asked, “Am I fired?”

  His hard stare blasted into me, his handsome face more severe than I’d ever seen it. “Of course not. But you can finish up Monday. The document I just handed back will give us a couple days of idle time, then I might need you more often. I’d rather give you a break now so you’re fresh when I need the longer hours.”