Beast (4 page)

As I approach my office door, I see her standing there. Her purse is slung over her shoulder, the knot of her waistband cinching her jacket closed. She’s on her way home.

“Jasmine…” I say her name and it’s as easy as breathing.

She gasps and yanks her hand away from the name plaque on the door. “I – I was just –” Her eyes drop to the floor, her lower lip pouting slightly.

My fingers itch to trace across that mouth. “It’s late.”

“I was just leaving,” she announces, her eyes lifting to mine.

The air between us is heavy with unspoken confessions. I want to take her by the hand right this minute and declare it all to her. Tell her that I’ve spent the past two years thinking about her. Tell her that I want to claim her and make her mine. But that’s more than I deserve.

She turns slowly in the direction of the elevators. “Good night, Liam,” she says in a hushed voice.

I’m a selfish bastard. Although I know I’m no good for her, I can’t just watch her leave. I’ve wanted her for so long.

“Jasmine –” I pull in a breath to temper the intensity of all that I feel. “Wait.”

Even in the dimly-lit hallway, I see the trepidation on her face when she looks at me.

I twist the doorknob and my office door glides open. It’s a silent invitation. One that she takes despite her hesitation. She enters with slow, cautious steps.

The desk and bookcase have been cleared of all the personal effects of the lawyer who occupied this office before me. My belongings sit in a few unopened boxes lining the wall.

This office is only a fraction of the size of the one that was allotted to me when Michael Moretti transferred the role of managing partner to me but I couldn’t be in that office. It’s on the 7
th
floor where all of the other partners have their spacious offices. It’s pretentious as fuck over there. I much prefer this one. It’s quieter, further away from all the commotion that takes place at the firm during the day. I couldn’t be at the center of the bustle. That would only serve to further fray my nerves. I know that I’m the managing partner of the firm now, but still, I need my space. That’s one of the major reasons I chose this particular office.

The other reason was
her
. Knowing that she’s right across the hall.

She’s leaning against the window now, gazing out at the bright lights illuminating the Manhattan skyline. Her small hand touches the glass. She glances at me over her shoulder. “This is a pretty view,” she says softly.

I stand at a distance studying her.
Tell me about it.
Long, dark hair cascading down her back, small waist spreading into generous hips, smooth legs. I want my hands on that body.

I approach her as she’s standing there. I get close. Too close. I know I should hold back but I can’t help myself.

Her soft, flowery citrus scent surrounds me as I bring my body within an inch of hers. God knows I just want every part of her touching every part of me.

Her breathing rattles her chest as she turns around to face me. Her gorgeous eyes look up at me. I see the apprehension, but I also see the fire, the lust. She may not want me in the light of day but right here, tonight, she needs me. I can see it.

My body moves by compulsion. I have no control over it. My palm cups her cheek and her eyes flutter. Her tongue darts across the seam of her lips. She’s nervous.

My face lowers until it’s barely a beat away from hers. Sexual tension charges the air. Something flutters in the pit of my stomach when I feel her breath on my lips.

My mouth tingles when I graze my lips tentatively against hers, and electricity arrows straight to my cock. I want to devour her but I can’t go forward with this if she doesn’t want it. But by god, I hope she wants it.

“You never called…” she whispers, her breathing labored. “I waited for you to call…”

I blink hard, the tension in my stomach coiling tighter. All this time I thought that she had chalked me up as a mistake and here she is telling me that she’d hoped that I would have reached out to her. I don’t know what to say. There’s nothing to say.

So, I take her lips. I glide my hand up the back of her neck and my fingers get lost in the thick silk of her hair. She groans softly when I tilt her head roughly, my tongue thrusting into her mouth.

“Fuck – I missed this body,” I groan against her earlobe before my mouth skims her jaw, her neck, down to her collarbone.

Her body arches into mine, begging for closeness. Her purse slides off of her shoulder, hitting the carpet with a dull thud. I reach for the sash of her jacket, pulling the knot loose. My greedy hands push the jacket from her body as she claws at my belt and the waistband of my pants. She’s making these lusty little sounds that are driving me wild. Her blouse, her skirt, her bra go flying as I stomp out of my pants and boxers.

I scoop her up, throwing her over my shoulder dramatically as I carry her the small distance over to my desk. I set her down and she pulls me on top of her. Citrus and florals and the smell of sex infuse the air around us.

“I want you, Liam,” she whispers as her lips reach for mine. She impatiently unbuttons my shirt and slides it off my body.

God – I want you too, Jasmine. I haven’t wanted another want since the day I met you
.

I kiss her hard and her soft breasts press against my bare chest. She twines her fingers around mine, guiding my hand down her ribs and into the hot, wet space between her legs. I growl when my fingers flit across the damp swatch of fabric. I yank at the lace and her panties tear away from her body.

My fingers move feverishly over her swollen clit before sliding inside of her, spreading her open. The sound of my fingers sloshing about in her pussy goes straight to my cock and I’m getting harder by the second. Her eyes are closed as she thrusts against my fingers, pulling at her hair and moaning.

I need to be inside of her. Now.

I pull her body to the edge of the desk and angle her pussy up towards me. I grip my erection in my hand, pumping the shaft and stroking the tip against her opening. “I don’t have a condom,” I mutter.

She rises up on her elbows, her lips parted and her eyes fixed on the movements of my cock. “Check the desk,” she says in a husky voice. “Luke always has condoms.”

I release her body and move around the desk. It takes a second of rummaging through the paper clips and rubber bands and pen caps in the desk before I find a shiny gold foil package. She gasps, relieved, and watches me sheath myself. Her legs spread wide and I push my cock inside of her. She’s taut and warm and so fucking slick. She’s better than I remembered.

I roll my hips in and out of her, upping the tempo to drown out the voice in my head, the one that’s whispering, “You promised you wouldn’t touch her, you ugly monster. She’s too good for you.” There’s no amount of guilt or moral decency in this world that would make me stop right now. She feels too good. She’s too beautiful to let go of. I need her too much.

She throws her arms around my neck, her eyes closed as she rides the surge of pleasure. She curves her body to meet my thrusts and she whispers against my beard, “I’ve thought about you so much.”

I lose all fucking control. I grab her by the hips and pound into her. I lean forward and pull her to me. When I stand, we’re chest to chest, her legs are wrapped around my waist and her arms circle my neck. My tongue thrusts into her mouth as my cock thrusts into her body.

She tightens around me, her warm, sticky body molding to mine. Her orgasm is building inside of her. I can feel it, she doesn’t have to say it. She throws her head back and howls her release and I come too, a million stars twinkling before my eyes.

I sag against the wall behind me, Jasmine still clinging to my body as she descends from her high. I feel satisfied, so content, but a darkness lingers just beyond that; I feel guilty for taking advantage of her again.

She’s still breathless when I set her down on my desk and tip her face towards me. I kiss her with all I’ve got because I know that it’s the last time.

I lie naked across his desk.

I’m panting, my body pleasurably sore. Liam comes to me, his burly frame hovering over me. He’s back in his pants but his chest is still bare and glistening with sweat.

“You okay?” he asks in a gravely voice.

I nod coyly, a shy smile twisting my lips.

He reaches into the breast pocket of the suit jacket strewn across the back of his executive chair and pulls out a handkerchief. His tenderness surprises me as he dots away the beads of sweat slickening my forehead and upper lip. He slowly drags the cloth across my jaw, down my neck, between the globes of my breasts mopping up the moisture that has settled on my skin.

My breath hitches as the rag travels down my stomach. His smoldering gray eyes fix on mine when he tenderly glides the kerchief through the wet, sensitive lips of my pussy. It’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever experienced. I feel vulnerable but safe. The tender expression on his face tells me it’s okay to show him all my cards.

Uninhibited intimacy hangs in the air and I don’t want this moment to end. The bliss that I feel is too much. It’s indescribable. This is the outcome that I’ve dreamed of for the past two years. It feels like fate has suddenly intervened and I’ll get my happy ending after all.

“I always knew we were meant to be more than a one-night stand,” I whisper quietly as I relish the softness in his eyes. I reach out, my fingers aching to skirt across the scars on his cheek.

But he recoils abruptly. He grabs my wrist, averting my touch.

Something flashes across his face right before a dark cloud rolls in, obscuring the affection that, just moments ago, was twinkling clear as day in his eyes.

He swallows hard. “We should just be friends.” His tone is brusque and insensitive. I feel the impact low in my gut like a sucker punch. I start to cry. He blinks away the softness that momentarily flickers in his eyes. His expression is unreadable again.

I struggle to sit up. Suddenly, I’m so very aware of how naked and cold I am. Liam crouches down and scoops up my ruined panties from the floor. He stretches them out to me.

I sit there on the edge of the desk and level him with a hateful glare. “Here,” he says impatiently, shaking the soiled lace in front of me.

All I see is red. My open palm sails through the air before connecting loudly with his cheek. His eyes go wide and his jaw hangs loose as his hand lifts to his face.

“You asshole!” I shriek.

I should probably just smother my emotions and walk away with my head held high. For the sake of my dignity. But I can’t. I’ve spent two years wondering. I want closure. I need it. Did I really spend all this time obsessing over someone who has no regard for me at all?

I slide off of the desk and get right into his personal space, aiming my finger at his face. “Is this some sick, cruel game to you? Toying with my body and my emotions and then throwing me away?”

He just watches me, not saying a word.

Tears fall freely down my face. “I felt so much the night that we met. I felt a connection. More than just great sex. It was deeper than that. Tell me, was that all in my head? Did I imagine it? Did you not feel it too? Is that why you didn’t call?”

Liam’s eyes give nothing away. They’re cold, hard, expressionless.

I wait for a beat, hoping that he’d at least have the decency to explain. But he’s silent as he pins me with his stormy glare. My mind is racing. My heart is pounding. I feel humiliated.

I cross an arm over my breasts and bend as discreetly as I can to retrieve my clothing from the floor. I hate myself right now. Not only did I just hand myself over to someone who’s hurt me before, but then I laid my heart bare, confessed exactly what I was feeling only to have him stare blankly at me like I’m from another planet.

I suck in a lungful of air and turn towards him, my head hung low. “Can I have some privacy please? I’d like to get dressed.”

He’s still for a moment and then he shuffles to the door. Just before he ducks into the hallway, he speaks in a low, flat tone. “I’m sorry, Jasmine.”