Hitched (Imperfect Love Book 2) (10 page)

He crushes our lips together, his tongue searching for me. The shift in position presses my legs up, and his pelvis grinds against my clit with every move. I moan desperately into his mouth. The waves of ecstasy surge higher and higher—

Until they crest and crash, my release pounding through me. “Noah!” I cry out as I quake apart in his arms.

“Fuck, I can feel you coming . . . so tight, so good, I’m—”

His husky voice collapses into a shapeless growl, a dark, primal sound of pure pleasure. He gives a few more hard thrusts, shuddering into me until his hips slow and finally still.

For a few minutes we just cling to each other, panting for breath, savoring the last aftershocks as we come down from our high. I’m not sure I could get up even if I wanted to. Now I understand what women mean when they talk about feeling the Earth move.

I suck in my breath when Noah eases himself out. He leans over me to throw the condom in the trash, then lies down beside me, his head propped up on his elbow to gaze down at me.

“So . . . what did you think?”

Oh, come on. After all that, he shouldn’t expect me to speak coherently, let alone leave a damn Yelp review.

“Good,” I mumble. That’s the best I can manage. But I guess that’s less embarrassing than
eleven out of ten
or
I can’t feel my legs
.

I feel his chuckle more than hear it. He reaches for my hand and laces our fingers together. Lifting my hand to his lips, he presses a gentle kiss to the back of it, then pulls to draw my arm over his body.

Held safe in his embrace, I lie limp, exhausted, bathed in a warm golden glow of satisfaction. I finally did it. I fucked Noah Tate, and it was one of the best ideas I’ve ever had. I knew sex was better than my past experiences—otherwise, people wouldn’t talk about it as much as they do—but I never imagined it could be this good. Even my teenage fantasies barely measure up.

I decide that my boring, painful fumbling with Brad didn’t count at all. Tonight was my
real
first time. A whole new world of pleasure has opened itself before me, and I intend to explore it to the fullest.

An enormous yawn overtakes me, interrupting my thoughts.
Phew . . . right after I get some rest.

I wriggle closer to Noah and pillow my head on his bicep. Together, we drift off to sleep.

Noah

Watching Olivia put this cocky asshole in his place is exhilarating.

It’s our regular Friday morning executive planning meeting with the board chair, Olivia’s father, Fred; my late father’s advisor, Prescott; and the department heads from marketing, finance, and HR. Olivia just finished explaining her plan for the upcoming quarter. And the finance executive—a dinosaur named Peter who we should have fired last decade—made the fatal mistake of questioning her expertise a little too adamantly.

“Peter, I appreciate your passion on the topic.” Olivia’s voice is sure and steady, much calmer than I would have been in her place. “But since Noah and I took over as co-CEOs, this company’s performance has steadily improved.”

Peter shifts in his chair with a noise that sounds too much like a scoff for my liking.

I frown at him.
Hey, fuck you too, buddy.

I don’t know why it’s just now occurring to me, but the prejudices Olivia has faced to take over her corner office and head of the conference table have surely been daunting. She’s young, she’s a woman, and she’s the former boss’s daughter—all things that small-minded men like Peter take to assume that she’s not qualified for her new role.

I want to throw in my own two cents about his behavior, but I don’t. Olivia can handle herself, and I won’t imply otherwise by jumping to her rescue, especially not in front of all these company officers. She doesn’t need a man to save her, and it’s a quality I admire so much about her.

Without missing a beat, Olivia finishes shutting down Peter as if she hadn’t heard his scoff. “If you’d like to discuss my plan further, you can join me in my office later and I’ll be happy to walk you through it . . . using small words, if it helps. However, I won’t let you derail this meeting any further. Now, does anyone have any more business, or are we adjourned?”

Peter’s mouth drops open. But he soon closes it again, defeated, and I suppress a grin.

When nobody else says a word, Olivia rises to her feet. “Thank you all for your time this morning, and please have your department summaries to me by the end of the day.”

Everyone scatters until only Olivia and I are standing in the conference room. “Are you okay?” I ask.

She inhales a deep sigh. “Of course.”

Even if she wasn’t okay, it’s in her DNA to put on a brave face and carry on. It makes me proud to know her, to work with her, and to be the man who gets to go home with her.

“Peter’s a cocksucker. Come on, let’s go get a tea.”

She smiles for the first time since the meeting began. “Sounds great.”

I lead Olivia to my office, where my secretary was thoughtful enough to get me an electric kettle. A small glass-topped cart holds bottled water, a collection of different English bagged teas, and a couple of mugs.

When the water heats up, I pour Olivia a cup and hand it to her. She looks at me hesitantly.

“What?” I ask.

“Do you mind if we close the door?”

“Not at all.” I walk across the office and shut the door, wondering what the privacy is for.

She sips her tea while I prepare my own cup, then sit down in the armchair next to hers. The late morning sunshine makes everything feel cheery, but I suspect there’s something on her mind. She twists the simple diamond and platinum wedding band on her finger.

“Tell me what’s on your mind, Snowflake,” I prompt her. Something serious is clearly brewing in there, and I suspect it has to do with last night.

We fucked like rabbits and slept naked in each other’s arms. Then this morning, we got ready for work and ate breakfast as usual, like none of it ever happened. I have no idea what’s going through her head, if she regrets it or what.

My dick definitely wants a repeat performance. Already I’ve started fantasizing about spending all weekend fucking her brains out.
Hey, a man can hope, right?
But I don’t know how she feels about our first time. And to be honest . . . I’m not totally sure how I feel either.

Part of me hoped the sex would be mediocre. That Olivia’s cool, collected demeanor would spill over into the bedroom, and she’d be a lifeless lay. Oh, how wrong I was. She was responsive and oh-so-eager for me, matching me thrust for thrust, whimpering sexy mewling cries each time I hit deep inside her.

And when she came? She didn’t hold back, like some women do, afraid to be too loud, making sex into something shameful. No, Olivia celebrated it. Crying out with her orgasm, panting my name, clawing my back. I followed her over the edge . . . and now I’m afraid I’d follow her anywhere.

Last night was almost too perfect. Better than any woman I’ve ever been with. And a deep, dark part of me already knows the reason why. She’s special; there’s something between us that I’ve never had before. Even though I’ve always wanted Olivia, always felt strongly about her, it’s jarring to admit just how much she means to me. How hard she makes my heart pound, how far I will go for her . . .

Apparently not enough to man up and tell her about the contract.
My stomach tightens.

Olivia sets her mug on the glass table in front of us and crosses her legs. She’s in a sexy figure-hugging white dress with a tailored black blazer over the top. A chunky turquoise necklace is the only bright pop of color in her outfit, but it’s exactly enough. The woman knows how to present herself. Remembering my thoughts from the meeting earlier, I wonder how much time she spends every morning, finding the perfect balance between feeling feminine and being taken seriously as a professional.

“I, um . . .” She pauses, looking down at her red-lacquered fingernails.

“Tell me.” I lean closer.

“Last night was . . .” She trails off again, wringing her hands in her lap. “It was like a bucket list thing. Something to check off my list—no-strings sex with Noah Tate. I thought it’d be fun, and I psyched myself up to just do it.”

“And now that we’ve done it?” My heart starts to pound.

She takes a deep breath.

“Look at me, Olivia.” I need to see into her eyes, need to see if she regrets it like I fear she does

She looks up, and the haunting depth in her gaze almost guts me. “Once wasn’t nearly enough,” she breathes.

In one heartbeat, I’ve pulled her into my arms, smashing her chest against mine. Her tongue darts out to tease her lower lip just before my mouth crashes against hers.

I need her out of this dress and bent over my desk as soon as fucking possible. Without breaking our kiss, I tug off her blazer and find the zipper at the back of her dress, drawing it down the graceful slope of her spine. Once she’s stripped down to just her nude lace bra and thong and her black stiletto heels, I spin her so she’s facing my desk.

Placing each of her palms on the desk, I say, “Hold on, baby.” Then I drop to my knees behind her and caress her round ass, giving it a playful swat.

She lets out a sharp yelp, more startled than in pain.

“Shh,” I tell her, smoothing my hand over the pink stinging spot. “Can you stay nice and quiet for me?”

Olivia nods, her gaze darting over to the door to my office. The very unlocked door where someone can come in at any moment.

I rub her pussy through the damp fabric of her thong and she lifts her ass, rocking her hips against my hand.

“So eager. Promise you can stay quiet?”

She nods again.

I lift the edge of her panties and push one finger into her snug channel. So deliciously tight and hot. I enjoy the view of watching my finger sink in, deeper and deeper, one knuckle disappearing after another, then slowly slide out again. She’s already breathing hard, and her inner walls grip me with every move.

Getting married has made me realize something. I don’t want an endless parade of one-night stands anymore. I want . . . intimacy. Domesticity. Someone to cook for and cuddle with, someone to share in my triumphs and keep my bed warm at night. I want a wife. I want Olivia.

But once again, a shadow falls over my thoughts. I’m still hiding the truth from her. I don’t know how she’ll react, how to explain things in a way that protects both her feelings and the company. And as long as I’m deceiving her, I can never have the true connection I’m craving. The secret of the heir clause will be a wall between us. Invisible to her, insurmountable to me.

I give myself a mental shake. Olivia is panting and rocking her hips in time with my motion, desperate for more. What the fuck is wrong with me? Olivia’s naked ass and pussy are right in my face and I can’t pay attention.

Focus, dumbass
, I scream at myself.
Your wife needs you. What kind of man would leave her hanging?

I withdraw my fingers—oh fuck, her little whimper of disappointment zings straight to my dick—press on her back until she lies flat on the desk with her ass raised, and plant my lips right over her clit. Just one hard suck pulls a wild cry from her lips. With a chuckle, I lean back on my heels.

“Sorry,” she whispers. “Please don’t stop. I’ll behave.”

I grin and dive in for more. Planting both hands on her ass cheeks, I part her wet lips with my thumbs so I can reach the spots that make her bite her lip as she fights to stay quiet.

I lick and suck until she’s a trembling, writhing mess. I don’t let up, mercilessly eating her pussy from behind. My fingers dig into her hips as I press my face harder into her. I need to be deeper. I need to be as close to Olivia as I can get, drowning in her taste and smell and hot, slick feel, and still it’s not enough.

She comes with a stifled moan, her chest heaving on my desk. I kiss her ass, her thighs, the back of her knees as she shudders, then rise to my feet.

Instead of thanking me, or making some dry remark like I’ve come to expect from her, Olivia immediately begins opening the front of my pants.
Hell yeah
. My belt hits the floor and she shoves my pants and boxers down to my knees.

She takes my cock in her hands and starts pumping while kissing my throat. She’s so damn sweet, so eager, it’s almost too much. I lift her by the hips and sit her on my desk. She’s still wearing her thong, but that’s no problem.

As she continues to stroke me, I step between her thighs and lift the elastic edge of her panties, pulling them all the way to the side so she’s exposed to me.

“Ready for more?” I ask, parting her delicately with my thumbs.

A whimper is the only affirmation I get.

I step closer and rub the head of my cock against her clit. Olivia gasps and looks down between us.

“You’re so sexy,” I say, rubbing myself along her heat, coating myself in her wetness.

She watches my eyes the entire time. It’s a thrill that she can’t keep her gaze off mine, but there’s something about it that scares me too. Like she’s going to see exactly how I feel about her, discover that my feelings for her run much deeper than fake husband and wife. Maybe this is what it means to love someone. It’s scary and uncertain, and you’re always terrified of fucking it up. But for me, it’s not a question of
if
I fuck it up. It’s
when
.

Focus, Noah.

I align the head of my cock and press forward the tiniest bit. Just the tip of me has entered her and I stop, realizing we’re without a condom. I swallow.

Does Olivia realize it too? Is she okay with this, or did she just not notice? Staying perfectly still, I thumb her clit again. She moans my name.

“Shh, baby.” I pet her hair back from her face and kiss her lips.

There’s something captivating about this moment. Broad daylight pouring through the window, halogen lights burning overhead. I can see every part of her. It’s intimate and illicit, and that’s a huge turn-on.

I try to keep from thrusting; I don’t want her to cry out and blow our cover. The frosted glass doors don’t block much sound. I’m sure my secretary already heard Olivia when she came.

I follow Olivia’s gaze to where it’s held captive—the spot where my body joins with hers. Just the flared head of my cock is buried, a thick vein pulsing along the shaft. I stroke her clit again and feel her inner muscles clamp down on me. Pleasure zips down my spine and I’m way too close to coming already.

“Don’t fucking squeeze me like that,” I growl.

“Shit.”

Olivia climbs down off the desk. For a second, I think that she’s heard someone—that one of our colleagues, or worse, her father, is about to open the door. But when she doesn’t make a move to cover herself, I know that’s not it.

“What?” I ask.

“No condom. We can’t.”

Fuck.

No, scratch that—double fuck.

“Well, this situation . . .” I glance down at my raging erection. “Needs to be taken care of. How can I be expected to work the rest of the day like this?”

She purses her lips. I almost expect her to tell me to suck it up and deal with it. It’s what the old Olivia would have done. But this beautiful, sexual creature before me isn’t the old Olivia.

“And how do you propose I take care of it, Mr. Tate?”

I love that she’s playing right into my fantasy of office sex, complete with calling me by my proper name.