Sex Addict (11 page)

He stepped away as she moved to the side and walked around to where his office chair was pushed in under the desk. After rolling it out, she sat, crossing her legs and placing an elbow on the arm as she ran her eyes down over him.
 

When they landed on the hand pressing over his parted pants, she licked her full lips and told him, “Now what is it you want, Evan?”

As he looked at her sitting in his chair and issuing orders like a fucking queen, he wondered if she thought he would change his mind and leave. If that were the case, she was about to be in for one hell of a fucking surprise.

“I want you to unbutton your shirt.”

She didn’t hesitate, her fingers nimbly unfastening the buttons down to her waist.

“Untuck it. And then leave it on my desk.”
 

Reagan kept her eyes on him as she obeyed his wishes and pulled the material from her skirt, unfastening the remaining buttons before sliding it off her shoulders and baring the cream lace bra underneath.

Christ almighty.

The sight of her sitting there with her breasts spilling over the edges had him groaning, but before he could reach back inside to ease himself, she called his name.
 

“Wait,” she said, standing up and walking back around. “I can’t see from over there after all.”

She sat in one of the visitor chairs in front of his desk, and when he turned to face her, she grabbed his hand. Her tongue ran over the length of his palm before she took two of his fingers into her mouth and sucked.
 

His entire fucking body trembled at the warm, wet heat of her, and when she was finished, she grabbed the edges of his pants and pulled them, along with his boxer briefs, all the way down. He kicked them off and took hold of his cock, pumping it through the slick glide of his fist.

Reagan’s hand reached up to slip the strap of her bra down, and he nodded and grunted out, “Off.”
 

She complied, unsnapping the back and letting the bra fall to the floor. Her nipples were hard, and fuck if that didn’t make him thrust into his hand more forcefully.

Her eyes were watching him closely, not showing any discomfort over the fact that she was sitting topless in his office as he masturbated. That was when, bold as ever, she tilted her head and licked her lower lip. Evan knew right then that he wouldn’t do anything to fuck this up.

“What next, Evan?”
 

The way her lips parted around his name had him reaching for her until she shook her head.
 

“No, no. No touching me. What next?”

“Fuck,” he growled out as he clenched his jaw and brought his hand back to pump his cock harder. He let his eyes fall down to her breasts and the smooth skin of her stomach and managed, “Unzip your skirt.”

“No,” she told him and gave a sinful grin. “I’m not taking my skirt off. Next?”

His nostrils flared in frustration as he looked down at her sexy face and said, “Pull it up.”

“My skirt?”

“Yes, your fucking skirt,” he groaned.

She reached down to either side of her thighs but kept her eyes on his as she started to draw it up her legs.

“More,” he said when she stopped just below her hips.
 

Reagan raised it higher until her matching cream panties came into view. He wanted to pass the fuck out when he realized she had soaked through them.
 

“Goddammit, Reagan,” he ground out, and she raised her brow.
 

“See something you like?” she asked and threw one of her legs over the arm of the chair.

Fuck yes, I do.

“You know I fucking like it,” he confirmed as she arched her hips in his direction, and he fisted his length harder. “I fucking crave it. Jesus, Reagan. You’re soaked. Tell me you aren’t dying for me to fuck you right now. Right here on the floor.”

She clutched the sides of the chair she was sitting in, and he watched her thigh muscles tense as her back curved like she was trying to push against something, seeking the pressure he knew his cock could give her.

He stepped closer to her, like a man dying of thirst who’d finally spotted an oasis in the desert, and when he was close enough that the scent of her arousal hit his nose, he bared his teeth and demanded of her, “Why are you denying yourself?”

When she looked up at him, the hunger in her eyes was evident, but so was the control he knew he was lacking. Instead of answering, she fingered her nipples, successfully drawing his attention back to the task at hand. She cupped herself, pushing her rounded flesh up and squeezing in time to every stroke he made.
 

Fuck. Almost... I just need...something more.

He was panting, so close to the rush he knew was coming. “I want—” he started.

“Tell me.”

Evan leaned over her and grabbed the back of her chair, only inches between them. With his mouth hovering by her ear, he told her, “I want to come all over your perfect fucking tits.”

She gave him a smile so fucking naughty that it had his insides twisting as she whispered, “Do it.”

God, I want to kiss that fucking smile off her mouth, he thought,
but that was not part of the deal.
 

Instead, he held on to the back of the chair and moved between her splayed thighs. She still had one hanging over the arm of the chair, so she was nice and wide for him, and as he started to pump his cock, he looked down to see her watching with rapt attention and a slightly parted mouth.
 

Fuck, he was so ready. The smell of her, the debauched look of her, and the fact she was letting him even do this were all coming together to build inside him a climax he couldn’t wait to paint her skin with.

Then her eyes flicked up to his from beneath her long lashes, and when she repeated, “Do it,” he lost his fucking mind.

His gaze never wavered from hers as the pent-up hours of agony unleashed in spectacular fashion across her chest. He’d never felt a release on this level before. It felt as though he were unloading a heavy burden from his shoulders, and as his climax waned, the tightness in his chest eased.
 

She never took her eyes off him, and he wondered what she saw. A desperate man, most likely. One so deeply entrenched in the depth of his addiction that the only relief he’d been able to find lay with the woman beneath him, covered in his come—she’d become his dirtiest fantasy.
 

He jerked back from her, his hands shaking as the enormity of what had just happened sunk in. He’d just come all over his boss’s tits.
 

Fucking hell. What have I done?

She slid her leg down from the arm of the chair, and Evan watched in stunned silence as she turned, grabbed a couple of tissues from the box on his desk, and cleaned herself up.

I need to say something...but shit. What do you say after that?
 

She didn’t even give him a passing glance as she stood and walked around to where she’d dropped her bra, tossing the tissues in the trash. As she replaced her clothing in silence, he kicked his ass into gear and did likewise.
 

Before he could offer up one word of apology, she came around the desk, looked him over, and smoothed her hands down her skirt.

“So, I’ll see you Monday?”

“...I lost my illusions in a black rain of bitterness - now what do you see in my eyes? How can you still love me? How can I be tender? ...”
 

― John Geddes

CHAPTER TEN

REAGAN’S EYES FLICKED open two minutes before her alarm went off. She didn’t feel the seize of panic in her stomach upon waking anymore, though the dreams that had been haunting her for weeks were becoming more vivid.
 

As remnants of the memory dissipated, the man lying next to her came into focus. The tousled chestnut locks she’d been remembering faded into a dirty blond, and a night’s worth of stubble covered his angular jaw.
 

Reaching for her cell phone still on the nightstand, she glanced at the time and quickly disabled the alarm before it could wake him up. The last thing she needed was an audience to her walk of shame, and she was already mentally kicking herself for staying the night.
 

Gingerly lifting the sheet, she slipped out of the bed and tiptoed around the room collecting her things. Then she dressed quietly, grateful that she’d gone out the night before in a pair of jeans instead of something more conspicuous. Tight dresses at seven a.m. were a little
too
call girl for her taste.
 

Her heels were nowhere to be found, so she dropped to her knees and crawled along the hardwood floors to search underneath the bed, freezing every time it creaked and checking to make sure Tom…err…Ted? Travis? Well, to make sure whatever his name was stayed dead to the world.
 

The damn things must’ve been kicked off in haste, because she had to flatten herself and wriggle her way beneath the bed to reach them. As she tried to slide back out, her head knocked against the frame in a loud thump, and she stopped breathing while the man above groaned and tossed about before becoming silent again.
 

A string of curses ran through her mind as she pushed herself out and got on all fours before peeking up over the edge of the bed to make sure she was in the clear for a getaway. Once she was satisfied, she got to her feet and didn’t look back. As she shut his apartment door behind her, she breathed a sigh of relief and stepped into her heels. She wouldn’t be making an overnight mistake like that again.
 

Pulling out her cell phone, she opened her calendar and groaned when she realized Bill had set up an eight o’clock meeting that morning. She wouldn’t even have time now to run home.
 

“Great,” she muttered, tucking her phone into her jeans pocket. If she hurried, she could freshen up at the office, and, luckily, she always kept a couple of business suits there just in case. Though by “just in case,” that usually meant in case she spilled coffee down her shirt, not in case of a one-night stand.
 

Once outside, she hailed a cab and hopped inside before pulling out her small makeup bag and wiping away the flakes of mascara under her eyes. No amount of powder would conceal the fact that her late nights were starting to catch up with her. Those had to stop. She didn’t let herself think about what had prompted her actions, but deep down she knew that night in Evan’s office three weeks ago had left an indelible mark. One she wasn’t ready to admit to herself and one she sure as hell wouldn’t ever let him see.
 

After that evening, he’d seemed…different. Less anxious, like the coil of tension that was wrapped so tightly inside him had unraveled. If Evan was regaining some semblance of control in his life, it seemed as though hers was beginning to spin out of control.
 

Reagan stared out the window as the cab maneuvered through the traffic. She knew she would have to eventually deal with what she had allowed to happen that night, but in the back of her mind she was aware that wasn’t the only thing she had to face when it came to Evan James. When Bill had finally told her he was ready to bring Evan in, after months of keeping tabs on the man, she’d thought she was ready to handle it.
How wrong was I?

The cab pulled to an abrupt stop at the curb of the building that housed Kelman Corporations, and she fished through her purse for some cash. Pulling out a couple of bills, she handed them over and climbed out before shutting the door behind her. She glanced down at her phone again and noticed she had a few minutes to spare. Brushing her hair away from her face and tucking it behind her ear, she held her head high and walked toward the front entrance.

There, see, no one will be the wiser.

Believing she was home free, she didn’t notice until she was reaching for the handle that a person had stepped in beside her.

“Let me get that,” a deep, familiar voice said as he reached out to open the door before she could. Inwardly, she groaned as Evan gave her a once-over, and a knowing grin crossed his handsome face. Before he could say anything, she held up her hand.
 

“Don’t say a word,” she grumbled.
 

Striding past him, she made her way over to the elevator and punched the up button until the doors opened. Stepping inside, she moved to the back corner and leaned against the wall, watching as Evan balanced the tray of coffees in his left hand and stepped inside to press their floor with his other. When the doors slid shut he faced her and gave a mock frown.

“So, you don’t want your caffeine jolt?” He took a step closer and leaned against the wall beside her. She could smell the strong scent of coffee wafting from the cups, and she almost…
almost
told him no. Then she turned and caught his you-know-you-want-it look.

“Fine, give it to me.”

He held the tray out to her, and when she saw the cup with “BOSS” written on the side, she had to fight back her own smile. She reached for it, and just before she could take it, he moved the tray away and told her in a most serious tone, “You could be nicer. I waited in a pretty long line for this beverage.”