Corporate Cowboy (5 page)

Chapter Five

I hold Gage’s intense gaze and then gradually, as if his eyes are willing me to do so, sink to my knees in front of his desk.

He slowly makes his way around the desk and stops in front of me. I look up at him.

“Lower your eyes and ask for my forgiveness.”

I shift my gaze to his boots. My lips are dry.
Shit.

“Emma,” he warns.

Okay, I’ll do this. “I ask for your forgiveness.”

“Sir.”

Oh.
“I ask for your forgiveness, Sir.”

“For what, Emma?”

My brain is swimming. “I ask for your forgiveness, Sir, for arguing with you. I will not let it happen again.”

Silence. I want to move. I sit and wait for what seems an eternity.

“Why should you not argue with me, Emma? What is the lesson you have learned?”

Crap. What lesson have I learned? “I’ve learned to speak up.”

“And?”

“Not to hesitate.”

“And?”

“Not to question you when you say I am not ready. Not to argue.”

He sighs. I hope that is a sigh of approval. “Yes. You may get up now, Emma, and
sit
in the chair.”

He walks away, and I linger a second, gathering my thoughts. The past few minutes have totally played with my head.

“Emma, do not hesitate.”

Shakily, I nod, get up, and sit in the chair. I’m not sure whether to look at him or not.

Instead, I watch him lift a layer of papers from the folder and push them across his shiny desk. I feel as if my insides have turned on themselves. Nervous, but then I remember. I have walked in here of my own free will. I crossed that threshold, my entire body on high alert—not to mention sexually aware—with the intent to give myself over to him.

“Once you learn the terms, you may back out.”

I am entering into something that will likely change me. Yet, I press on. I want this, for reasons I’m not even sure I want to admit to myself.

Gage’s fingers flick at the pages and I lift my gaze. He told me not to hesitate so I just did it. His stare is infectious and I cannot easily pull myself away. I decide to play his game.

“Sir, may I look at you?”

He nods. “You may.”

“May I also ask a question, Sir?”

He probably wouldn’t admit it, but a hint of a smile flicked across his lips.

“Yes,” he said.

“I don’t understand why there is need for a contract,” I tell him. “Is there something special about the way you fuck?”

A glimmer of something I can only attribute to amusement races across his face. Perhaps it’s the way the corner of his mouth jerks at my words. I’ve noticed this before and find it both endearing and dangerous.

I go on. “Why can’t you just fuck me and be done with it? I mean, since you are into cold and impersonal.”

Gage continues to stare, then says, “Because that’s not the way I do it.”

“Oh, so you
do
believe in foreplay and romance?”

His eyebrows twitch. “Foreplay, yes, if you want to call it that. But on my terms. Romance?” He laughs. “Not my game, Emma. I’m not a romantic man.”

“Then why all the pomp and circumstance?” I lean into the desk, my hands flat on the cold surface, our gazes interlocked. My voice softens. “There’s no one here, Gage. No one to know. It’s Sunday and the offices are closed. I’m sure you’ve engaged some sort of alarm system to alert you to someone entering. I’m also certain this wouldn’t be the first time you screwed some new girl on your big slick desk.” I look down at the rich cherry wood and run my fingertips across the polished top. Then I jerk my head up to catch his eyes again. “So, forget the paperwork, cowboy, just fuck me now. You know you want to.”

My ankles are shaking. What am I saying? I have never been this bold before about sex. My mouth and brain are in total opposition with each other. No filters! My stomach plunges into my pelvis as Gage stands over the desk, his palms flat on the surface.

“Oh, Emma,” he growls, “you have no idea what I want to do to you right now.”

“Then show me.”

“You have not learned your lesson, have you?”

I sat back. “We’re still in discussion, Gage. I’ve not signed anything and therefore, there will be no more kneeling before you and asking forgiveness. Lessons learned are not a part of this.”

“See there, Emma? You have no clue why you are so wrong.”

“Then show me. Tell me. Fuck me.”

He laughs. “Oh, Emma. You have so much to learn. Is it that you really want me to fuck you, or are you infatuated by the idea of being with a man like me? Hm?” He stands and my gaze lifts with him. “But I’m not fucking you until you’ve read the agreement. Until we have discussed it, and it’s signed.”

My heart beats so fast I fear a heart attack. I hold his stare for as long as I can and think I literally see fire flickering in those black irises. I am not sure why I am challenging him.

“All right.” I pick up the contract and reach for my bag. I shove the document inside and in the same motion, twist away from the desk and stalk off toward the door. “I’ll read this in private,” I say over my shoulder.
Not with you glaring at me.

I have probably just breeched all kinds of rules here. So be it.

I reach the office door, but before I can walk through it, Gage races up behind me and slams it shut. My body twists as he turns me around and pushes me against the door.

There. Again. His chest heaving against mine.

His musk and aftershave permeating my senses.

His body heat and sexuality rendering me helpless.

Gage reaches for a deadbolt lock at my elbow. Click.

I drop my bag. Again.

“Not yet, Emma,” he says, his voice a deep, virile purr that sends my insides into a quivering spiral.

Crickets.
What have I done? I’ve pushed too far.

“Let me go, Gage,” I tell him. “Let me go and read your damn contract, and then I will tell you
if I am ready
.”

“You are way out of your league,” he whispers. I realize I probably am.

I watch his eyes. They flick over my face and land on my mouth. Suddenly, I want to run my tongue over my dry lips. And the more he stares, the more parched they become.

“Lick your lips, Emma,” he whispers. “You want to.”

His hands find mine and curl around my wrists. Slowly, he raises them above my head, as he did in the elevator. He stretches my arms up as far as they will go and clamps them to the door. The one button of my jacket pops open. His gaze hasn’t left my mouth.

We both breathe deep. In sync. My breasts crowd his chest. “Show me your tongue, Emma. Lick your lips.”

His stare is intense. I fear I may hyperventilate and faint on the spot. Involuntarily my tongue darts forward, scrapes over my lower lip. I shudder, and his intake of breath startles me. I suck in my lip and clamp them both together.

Gage groans and drops one hand. He grasps my chin, holding my face steady. In one swift and sure movement, his mouth bears down on mine and I gasp at the shockwave the meeting of our flesh creates.

My entire body reacts with the slant of his mouth across mine, discharging an erotic current that races from our fused lips to my groin. Our lips merge, tongues probe. He deepens the kiss, and the hand on my chin moves firmly down my neck and flattens over my chest.

Gage breaks away, pulls back, and then with both hands, grasps the placket of my shirt and tears it open, buttons popping.

“Oh!”

The front clasp of my bra releases as his hands roughly palm my breasts. Another sexual thrill sprints up through me, and I throw my head back against the door. The heat of his lips hits the space between my breasts; his fingers knead and squeeze my nipples.

The pain of his pinch mingles with a frenzy of sensual surges, causing me to gasp in pleasure. “Oh God!”

He lowers, his moist and hot mouth making a path down my abdomen. His fingers fumble with the button and zipper of my slacks and in one swipe, they are at my ankles.

Gage growls and bites me through my panties. I pant, a wicked thrill zipping through me. Then he rips those down, as well.

“Look at me, Emma.”

My breathing is out of control. I pull my head away from the door and look down to see him kneeling before me. My clothes are a mess. He’s still fully clothed.

“Look at me.”

I search his face.

“Do you know what you are getting into, Emma?”

I shake my head. “No.”

“Do you want me to continue?”

I peer down into his eyes. “Y-yes.”
And I do. Oh, God, I do.

He mumbles something I don’t understand and positions himself at my center. “Lean into the door.”

His tongue penetrates my folds. High-pitched noises squeak from my mouth while his thumbs pull back my lips to allow him deeper access. My legs spread involuntarily, and I am unsure how long I can hold this position. Gage’s mouth bores into me, his tongue probes and tickles, and I feel myself gradually sliding down the door, almost into a squat.

Sensation floods my body and the entire world centers on my clit and the flick of Gage’s tongue. My thighs quiver uncontrollably as an orgasm builds behind that tender nub. My hands clench and unclench; my nails scratch the door. My head tosses back, and I gasp a string of incoherent slurs.

The orgasm rips through my core, and I lose all control. My legs collapse and I slide to the floor. His mouth leaves me, and I am lost in a dizzying gyration of sensation and need. My body convulses as the sexual currents roll on.

“I’m not finished, Emma,” Gage says. “Close your eyes.”

He penetrates me with his fingers. One, and then two, I think. His thumb applies pressure to my clit. He probes, opening me up, pistoning deeper and deeper. The pressure of his thumb makes me cry out, and before I know it, a second orgasm screams through my body and all I can do is lie there and let him finger me until I am through.

I am spent. Gage withdraws his fingers as I curl onto my side, my legs closing. After a moment, he rises and picks me up, carrying me to a sofa across the room. For the next few minutes, Gage cradles me on his lap, stroking my hair and face. I’m not sure I have ever felt anything so lovely.

And sensual. Intense.

Frightening.

Dirty.

“There, Emma. Sweet, Emma….”

His voice is softer than before. I raise my head and look into his face. For a blip of a second, I see a softened expression, caring eyes. Then quickly, that expression rips away, replaced with the hard, intense glare.

He stands and puts me on my feet. Steps back. “Fix your clothes and leave,” he says.

I’m left standing there alone as he moves toward his desk. I glance to my ankles and see my ripped panties, my slacks in a puddle. Mindless, I pull them up and fix them about my body. My bra, I am able to pull together and clasp. My blouse has only two buttons left.

I tug the placket together as best I can and then button my jacket hoping it will hold together long enough to get through the hotel lobby and to my car.

I am exhausted with sated pleasure. Riddled with doubt and question.

My clothes fixed, I look up and see Gage sitting behind his desk, staring at the desktop, his head in his hands.

Bastard
.

With shaking legs, I move toward the door. Somehow, I make it there without crumpling again, pick up my bag, and unclick the deadbolt.

I say nothing as I exit his office. I know the contract is still in my bag.

I don’t know whether to sign it or burn it.

****

My hands shake the entire way home. I manage to rush through the hotel lobby without anyone at the front desk seeing me, a line of check-ins keeping the staff busy. For that, I am grateful. When I arrive at my apartment building, I purposely leave my bag in the car, along with the contract and my cell phone. I don’t want to talk to him, don’t want to field phone calls and texts. Don’t want to be available 24/7.

I especially don’t want to look at the contract. Not yet. I don’t want it to tempt me once I am inside my place.

I am not prepared to read it.

I grab my wallet from the bag, lock up, and rush through the parking garage and into the elevator. I watch the numbers and stifle a slight panic that begs to well up inside me. The garage is three floors beneath the building. Three, two, one. All I need at this moment is to get inside my apartment.

Safe.

The doors rattle open, and I am caught unaware of the memory of myself, stepping over the threshold of the elevator at the hotel earlier, and into the lobby of Gage’s office. My body betrayed me, heating up and on fire for a man I barely know.