Crazy, Stupid Sex (8 page)

“Put your hands on the desk, face away from me.” She obeyed, the action thrusting her butt in the air. Her butt, which was now covered only by her stripy boyshorts. Horizontal stripes even. So hot. Not. Her ass probably looked like a giant rainbow zebra.

She felt his palm on her butt, warm, firm. He slid it down, beneath the waistband of her panties, gripping her bare skin hard. “You like that?” he asked, his breath hot on her neck, her ear.

“Yes,” she said.

He gripped the back of her neck with his other hand, holding her steady, holding her still. “You want this?” he asked, sliding his palm from beneath the waistband of her underwear and bringing it down lightly over her fabric-covered skin.

There was no pain, only a sharp pang of need that crackled out from where his hand met her ass, to her core.

She bit her lip to keep from making moanysex noises because…there were people outside her office. Why did that make it hotter? Why did that make it so much more…wicked?

She looked over her shoulder at him and nearly lost it then and there. His tie was draped over his shoulders, his shirt collar undone, revealing a wedge of perfect man-chest. And her eyes drifted lower, to his belt, to the bulge just beneath it.

She wanted it. All of it. She wanted it now, even though it was wrong. Even though she shouldn’t want him. Not here, not now, not at all. But she was going to have him anyway. Because she didn’t care about should, shouldn’t or what anyone else might think. This was about what she wanted. What she needed.

After years of settling, she was so due.

He pushed her panties down her hips and she kicked them to the side. He moved his hand up beneath her T-shirt, cupped her bra-covered breast. “I might leave this on.”

He released his hold on her breast and moved his attention back down to her butt, his warm palm sliding over her skin.

“Yesss. Oh…” She took a deep shaking breath. “Yes, Caleb. Touch me.”

“You are a naughty girl,” he said, his voice rough, his touch firm. So cheesy. It should have put her off, but it turned her on. Because she’d never thought of herself as a naughty girl. A hardworking girl. A nerdy girl. But not terribly naughty, not terribly appealing. Not the kind of woman who abandoned all good sense, reason and deference to moral codes. To societal norms.

But today she was. And damn she liked it. “You want me, don’t you?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said.

“You want me to take you with everyone just outside. If I make you scream, they’ll all hear. They’ll all know. Is that what you want, baby?”

“Are you asking? I thought you were in charge.”

“Damn right I’m in charge,” he said.

At least he was asking what she wanted, not making her fumble around to figure out what he liked. At least his response to her request wasn’t, “you know I don’t like that freaky shit.” Which had, honest to goodness, been her ex’s response to her request for sex from behind. Which, she seemed to be in prime position for now.

But not yet. Not until after he’d teased her more. Not until he’d made her want it more.

She heard him working on the belt buckle, one hand still firm on the back of her neck, holding her to her spot at the desk. As if anything beyond an earthquake could move her now.

She closed her eyes and listened, the soft sound of his belt being tugged through the loops of his pants sending a shiver of anticipation down from where he still held her with his hand, to the base of her spine. Gathering there, a knot of need, of longing that only he could relieve.

She heard his zipper being tugged down. Who would have ever thought she’d be listening for a zipper sound? And that it would bring her close to the brink of orgasm.

It was in his control. His control to relieve the unbearable tension, or to hold her on edge like this forever. The waiting was delicious, almost as good as satisfaction.

She was trembling, shaking from her lips on down. And he was waiting.

“Tell me how wet you are for me,” he said.

“I…I…” She was going to die. He was going to kill her with the waiting and his words.

“Tell me, baby, or I’m not going to give you what you want.”

“I’m…you make me…you make me so wet,” she said, shifting, trying to alleviate the ache that was burning between her thighs. “I want you so much it hurts.”

“Where do you want me?” he asked.

“I want you…I need you…inside me.”

“Like this?” He moved, his fingers delving between her thighs, spreading her open. She felt exposed, powerless. In the very best way. She was at his mercy, and she had no idea what he would do next. Only that she would like it. Because there was nothing Caleb had done to her so far that she hadn’t liked.

“More,” she said, the tease excruciating now. She was ready to beg. She had no pride at all where he was concerned. Where this was concerned.

His fingers grazed her clit before he dipped one inside her. She gasped, her entire body tensing, poised right on the edge. “Or did you want it like this?”

She nodded, biting her bottom lip. There were no words, at least none she could find.

He moved his finger in and out of her body. She bucked against him. Needing more now. Needing all of him.

“Caleb,” she said, his name a long, low moan. And she didn’t even care if anyone heard.

“You want me,” he said. There was nothing obnoxious or cocky in his tone. It was a sort of intense growl that reverberated through her. It was a reflection of how she felt.

It wasn’t light, easy wanting. Not now. It was something hard. Intense and demanding. Something that was taking her places she’d never been. Making her crave things she’d never known she wanted.

He moved his hands and gripped her hips, his tongue sliding over her slick folds, the sudden change, the warm, slick friction making her jump. She bit her lip and put her head down, curling her fingers in, her nails biting into her fists.

“Oh…Caleb,” she gasped, wishing there was something for her to grab onto. Something she could do to help hold herself together.

Instead, she just leaned on the desk, hoping that would be enough to keep her from melting into the floor. Hoping it would be enough to keep her from falling apart.

He pushed his tongue deep inside her, the shock driving a hard spike of pleasure through her stomach and all the way down.

He continued to work magic on her with his mouth, taking her to the edge before pulling back, teasing her with satisfaction and taking it away.

Anticipation had never been so sweet. Pleasure had never hurt so much.

It was pain, needing him so badly and not being filled by him.

“Take me,” she said, without even realizing she was speaking out loud. “Please, Caleb. Please. I need you.”

She was begging. She didn’t care. Who had room for pride when they needed this badly?

“Caleb,” she said, his name a prayer on her lips. “Please, Caleb. Please.”

He stood up and she heard him tearing open a condom packet. She looked back over her shoulder and watched him roll the condom over his thick length, his pants shoved partway down his lean hips, their partial state of dress only making it all feel hotter. Feel that much more urgent.

And it was urgent. Damn urgent.

He pressed his chest against her back, one hand on her stomach, the other on her hip as he thrust slowly inside her. He made a hoarse, tortured sound as he sank in her to the hilt, his hand sliding up, over her breasts, stopping at the base of her neck.

He flexed his hips against her butt and she let her head fall back. He angled his head and kissed her mouth as he moved inside her, his hand keeping that possessive hold on her throat. Not hard, not painful. Just steady and firm, a sign of ownership. One she was happy to give him.

Because in this moment, she felt completely owned by him. Completely lost in him.

Amazing how a stranger could know so much more about her body, about her needs, than the man who’d shared her bed and her life for ten years. Amazing how he could make her feel so much more than the man she’d thought she’d loved.

Amazing how free she could feel when she was held captive.

He pulled her hard against him with each thrust, every movement inside her drawing a feral sound from his lips. This wasn’t the smooth man in the suit. The playboy with easy one-liners. This was a man on the edge of control. And that seemed fair to her since she’d left her control on the floor with her panties quite a while ago.

“I can’t hold back,” he said, his voice rough.

“Good. Don’t.”

He growled, freezing as his orgasm washed through him, the pulse of his cock inside her pushing her that final way, over into oblivion. Her mind went blank, her entire body feeling like it was in a free-fall, weightless, tossed around in wave after wave of pleasure and release that crashed over her, hard and fast so she couldn’t catch her breath. Until she was afraid she would drown. Until she almost hoped she did.

He held her tight against his body, transferring them to the other side of the desk, sinking down into the chair and bringing her with him, seated firmly on his lap. He was breathing hard, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his shirt stuck to his skin.

She leaned in and pressed a kiss to his exposed neck.

“Damn,” he said.

“Yeah. I think we just violated the workplace code of conduct,” she said, still gasping for air.

“No one would be surprised to know I violated a code of conduct,” he said.

“No?”

“It’s sort of what I do.” He tightened his hold on her waist.

“Why?” she asked.

“Why what?”

“Why do you violate codes of conduct?”

“I don’t know. Why not?”

“It’s just…a funny thing to make Your Thing. But whatever, man. I’m in no place to judge. I just begged for it in my place of business. And got it, I might add.” She lifted her shoulder and wiggled out of his hold, standing up and wobbling a bit. “Whoa.”

“You don’t have to get off me.”

“I’m on the clock. I kinda do.”

“I think the boss would understand.”

“The boss is showing questionable judgment today,” she said, picking her clothing off the floor and wiggling back into it.

“Do you regret it?”

She frowned. “No.”

She should regret it. She should feel utterly weirded out, but she didn’t. She felt…fine. With all of it. And that made her feel a little giddy. And like maybe the app she was making was magic. Because somehow, all of the things in it had helped make her brave enough to do things she’d barely let herself fantasize about.

“But I do have work to do,” she said. “That’s what you do when you have a job.”

“Ah,” he said, standing up and tucking himself back into his pants.

She almost couldn’t handle watching him redo his belt. Just looking at it made her a little shaky, in the best way.

“You’ll get the hang of this work business.”

“I guess I’ll have to.”

“Yeah, you have to oversee me.” His expression turned to granite. Very sexy granite. “I guess I do.”

“I assume I’ll be going to your house tonight after work,” she said.

“Do you?”

“Well, yes. I can’t only bang you during business hours. And I do intend to bang you again.”

“That’s charming.”

“Well, I thought so.”

“Sure. How long do you want to go on with the…banging?” he asked.

“Until I’ve fulfilled my contract,” she said. “How does that strike you?”

He smiled and walked toward her, extending his hand. She put hers out, and he shook it. “You have yourself a deal.”

Chapter Seven

Evie hadn’t arrived yet, and Caleb found himself feeling…
nervous?
Surely not that. He didn’t get nervous about whether or not a woman would show up for a date. For sex. It wasn’t even a date. He didn’t do dates.

Hookups. He did hookups. And he didn’t feel even a little bit bad about it. Life was short—you had to live it while you could.

Usually, he chose to live it with a different woman every night. But Evie was…available. Because he’d…gotten himself hired on at his father’s company so he could get a position in her office building.

Whatever. She was around. And she was coming over.

And if she wasn’t it didn’t matter, because he could get a woman whenever he needed one. Though, he’d never had an encounter with a woman quite like the one he’d had with Evie earlier today.

Or on Friday night.

He’d never been into tying women up, or screwing them in public. Hell, beds worked just fine for him, thanks. But she’d been so hot. So into it. It was like she was exploring her sexuality for the first time, and using him to help. And what guy wouldn’t get off on that?

There was something about the way she wanted him, about her mixture of boldness, innocence and total sense of adventure that got to him. Made him crave more.

But in order for him to get more, she had to show up. And he wanted her to. Okay, he needed her to. He could admit that much, even though it galled him.

He didn’t do need. Or attachment. He wasn’t up to it. He had nothing to offer back. Woe to the person he needed because there was nothing he could do to adequately compensate them for fulfilling his needs.

Yeah, he was good in bed, he knew that. But there was more to life than that. Or there was more to most people’s lives, anyway. In his life, that was basically the beginning and end of it. Which was fine.

The doorbell rang and he strode toward the entry. “Thank God,” he muttered, jerking the door open. “You’re late,” he said, looking at the woman standing out there on the step.

She was bar hookup Evie again. Not work Evie, in stretch pants and dorky T-shirt. She was wearing killer heels and a tight red dress that showed off just how flawless her curves were. She also looked big-eyed and nervous, slightly awkward.

“Sorry, I couldn’t decide what to wear.”

“What do I care what you’re wearing? It’s only going to end up on the floor.”

She frowned. “I spent time on this selection.”

“And you look amazing. But you looked amazing to me earlier, too.” She blinked rapidly. “I did?”

“You’re beautiful. What you’re wearing doesn’t have anything to do with it. Now come in.”