AdamsObsession (2 page)

Chapter Two

Well, hell. She was ready to come right now. It wouldn’t
take much to send her toppling over the edge. She glanced down at the pile of
playthings and shuddered. How long could she resist the mounting orgasm if
merely imagining his plans for her made juice drip down her thighs?

WILDKAT: Honestly, Savage, I don’t know how long I can hold
out.

SAVAGE: You can do it, Kat. I’ll hold out with you. We can
come together.

WILDKAT: You promise?

She would hate to think she was in this all alone.

SAVAGE: I promise. I won’t come until you come. No matter how
long it takes. Are you ready?

WILDKAT: God, yes. I’m so wet.

SAVAGE: Are you touching yourself?

WILDKAT: Yes.

She was, but barely. Her clit was hard and slick. The lips
of her pussy were swollen and fat and supersensitive. She couldn’t rub herself
much or she’d break rule number two right off the bat.

SAVAGE: Well, stop. You’re not allowed to touch yourself
unless I tell you to.

WILDKAT: Wait a minute. Is that a new rule?

SAVAGE: No. It’s part of rule number one. You do whatever I
command but nothing else. Unless you have permission. That means no stroking…

Katherine dropped back on the pillows. Her belly clenched in
frustration—or perhaps it was anticipation. Now that she knew she wasn’t
allowed to touch her clit, it throbbed even harder, begging for a tiny,
tingling touch. Desperation clawed at her gut.

WILDKAT: Please, Savage.

SAVAGE: Please, what?

WILDKAT: Please let me touch myself.

SAVAGE: Not yet. Where’s that vibrator?

She picked up the long, thick phallus. It was smooth and
contoured and bent at a very special angle. When inserted in just the right
position, it nudged incessantly at her G-spot. She fingered the length of it,
wondering. Would he let her seat it deep inside herself? Would he let her ride
that wicked knob until she screamed? Or would he tease her? Would he bring her
to the edge and make her beg for fulfillment?

WILDKAT: Here it is.

SAVAGE: Rub it against your clit.

She did, arching with delight.

SAVAGE: Does that feel good?

WILDKAT: Yes. Yes.

SAVAGE: Slip it inside. Just a little. Just there at the
entrance. How does it feel?

It felt wonderful. But…

WILDKAT: Please. I want to shove it in. I want to feel it
fill me up.

SAVAGE: Not yet. You need to be patient, little Kat.

WILDKAT: I’m not patient. I’m desperate. I’ve fantasized about
this all day. I’ve needed this. I want to come. I need to…

SAVAGE: All right. Slip it in a little deeper but just a
little. How’s that?

Not enough. Not nearly enough.

Katherine growled in frustration. She wanted to shove the
fat dildo deep into her pussy and fuck herself silly but she didn’t. Only one
thing stopped her—the knowledge that Savage was out there somewhere, trusting
her to follow the rules, expecting her to do as he commanded. That overpowered
her ravening lust. It kept her in check. Knowing he was aching for release just
as much as she was made her anguish bearable. Made her arousal even more acute.

SAVAGE: Nice. A little more.

She whimpered as she complied. It felt so good but at the
same time, she was in agony.

SAVAGE: Excellent. Are you being patient?

WILDKAT: Yes.

SAVAGE: Good girl. Slip it in now. All the way. But gently.

The vibrator, cool and hard, slid into her sodden chasm and
she groaned. The walls of her pussy gripped at the intruder and it bobbed
inside her.

SAVAGE: Does it feel good?

WILDKAT: Yesss. So good.

SAVAGE: Is it deep inside you?

WILDKAT: Yes.

SAVAGE: Turn it on. But at the slowest speed.

As he commanded, she picked up the remote and turned the
dial to the slowest setting—a sluggish, dull throb. She winced and dropped the
remote onto the bed, just out of reach, as the vibrator kicked into low gear.

Torture. It was absolute torture. Her clit screamed for
attention. Her nipples—fat and pebbled—strained against the soft satin of her
teddy. Her pussy ached for high-speed torque.

Instead, she lay there with her fists knotted at her sides,
with a vibrator shoved up her dripping canal, plodding along at the slowest
speed. She squeezed her muscles to get a firmer hold on the beast, to intensify
the vibrations, to demand the inner massage she craved, but as she tightened
her hold, the vibrator slipped out.

WILDKAT: Uh oh.

SAVAGE: What is it?

WILDKAT: I’m too wet. It popped right out.

It took awhile for Savage to respond. Katherine could only
hope he was in as much sexual torment as she was. Apparently, he was. His first
attempt read—

SAVAGE: sdklaskd

SAVAGE: Oh crap. Sorry. Just how wet are you?

WILDKAT: Pretty wet.

SAVAGE: God. Okay. No problem. We just need to change plans.
Go ahead and slip that bad boy back into your cunt. Is it in there deep?

Katherine gasped at his use of
that
word. Savage had
talked dirty to her a number of times but he’d never gone raunchy. He’d
certainly never said that. Somehow, now, it only made her hotter.

She followed his orders and slipped the errant toy back
inside her.

WILDKAT: Yes. It’s in me.

It was. Deep and hard. It set up a low rumbling that
resonated through her womb.

SAVAGE: Now close your legs. Tight. Take the belt from your
robe and wrap it around your upper thighs. Tie it tight so your legs can’t
drift open. I want you to feel the belt holding your legs closed. I want you to
know you can’t spread your legs, no matter how hard you try. I want that
vibrator trapped inside you. As deep as it can go.

She grabbed the belt and blindly followed his instructions.
Nudging the vibrator in farther, she closed her legs and lashed her thighs
together with the soft belt.

And she moaned. The sensation of vulnerability, of helpless
arousal, swamped her. Although she was in complete control of the situation, he
was the one who drove her, commanded her. And she knew it.

SAVAGE: How are you doing?

WILDKAT: I don’t know if I can take much more. I’m so close
to the edge.

SAVAGE: Me too, baby. Let’s ride this out together.

WILDKAT: Are you playing with your cock?

SAVAGE: Just a little. I’m so horny, if I go too far I’ll
explode.

WILDKAT: Isn’t that the point?

SAVAGE: Yeah, but I’m enjoying this too much. I want to drag
it out. When this is over, I don’t want you to have any doubt that you’ve been
thoroughly punished.

WILDKAT: Oh, believe me, I’m in agony.

SAVAGE: Baby, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet. I want you to
reach down and stroke your clit.

Katherine suppressed another shiver at his order but the
shiver rebounded, shooting down to her tender pussy and making her muscles
clench around the pulsing vibrator. It didn’t slip out this time, it couldn’t,
it was firmly in place.

The walls of her pussy closed on the hard rod, holding it
tighter, pulling it deeper. The vibrations—as slow as they were—became more
intense. A tiny quake, a pre-orgasm, rocked her. And she hadn’t even touched
herself yet.

WILDKAT: I can’t. If I touch my clit I’m going to come.

SAVAGE: No you won’t. Control it. Ride it. Touch yourself,
Kat. And do not come.

She bit back a groan and pressed past swollen lips, found
the aching nub engorged and sore and weeping for her touch. She stroked
delicately, all the while willing herself not to come, denying the orgasm
hovering just out of reach.

SAVAGE: Did you do it?

WILDKAT: Yes. Savage. I’m dying. I need to come. Please.

SAVAGE: Not yet. Just a little more punishment. Do you have
the brush?

It was a soft bristle brush with a flat back and a long, fat
handle. She picked it up, trembling as her fingers wrapped around its thick
length, wondering what he had in mind. What would he make her do with it? The
myriad possibilities made her twitch with anticipation.

WILDKAT: I have it.

SAVAGE: Good. Good. Are your nipples hard?

WILDKAT: Like stones.

SAVAGE: Rub them.

WILDKAT: With the brush?

SAVAGE: Yes. Drag the bristles over them. Back and forth.
How does that feel?

Excruciating. Phenomenal. Katherine had always had very
sensitive nipples, something Savage knew quite well. He was using every trick
in the book to torment her…and she loved it.

The friction of the brush through her satin teddy created a
line of arousal, a thread of excitement that shot from her nipples to her clit
and back again. Before long, she was writhing on the bed, thrusting her hips in
helpless entreaty, panting and mewling like a cat in heat.

SAVAGE: Wildkat?

WILDKAT: God. Savage. Please. Please. I am begging you!
Please let me come.

SAVAGE: In a minute. Do you have the remote for the
vibrator?

She scrabbled for it.

WILDKAT: Yes.

SAVAGE: Turn it up. Slowly. And while you are doing that,
keep rubbing your nipples with the brush. First one, then the other. Are you
doing it?

WILDKAT: Yes.

Yes. Yes! But it was so annoying to have to stop to type her
response.

SAVAGE: How does it feel?

WILDKAT: I’m losing it. I’m losing it. I can’t—

SAVAGE: Yes, you can. Hold on a little more. Just a little.
Turn it up again. Now reach down and rub your clit. I want you toying with your
clit and tormenting your nipples as the vibrator fills your pussy. Now. Hold
on. Hold on.

WILDKAT: Please. Please Savage. Let me come. I’ll do
anything…

SAVAGE: Anything?

WILDKAT: Anything.

SAVAGE: Oh baby. I’ll hold you to that.

WILDKAT: Please!

SAVAGE: All right. Come for me, my sweet Wildkat. Come.

And she came.

The explosion was mind-boggling. It started as a tiny quiver
deep in her womb and fanned out in greater and greater waves that shook her to
the depths of her being. She felt powerful and dynamic and utterly renewed.

Transformed.

It was, by far, the best orgasm she’d had in her lifetime.

Long moments later, she was still panting, quaking,
whimpering as exquisite aftershocks rocked her body.

SAVAGE: Are you okay?

WILDKAT: Better than okay. I’m phenomenal. How about you?

SAVAGE: Exhausted. You drained me dry.

WILDKAT: Do you mind?

SAVAGE: Not in the least. How did you like your punishment?

WILDKAT: Truthfully?

SAVAGE: We agreed we’d always be truthful.

WILDKAT: I loved it.

SAVAGE: It was pretty amazing, wasn’t it?

WILDKAT: Yeah. It was. It’s just hard to type with one hand.

SAVAGE: Tell me about it. We really should use a VoIP.

WILDKAT: A what?

What the heck was that?

SAVAGE: I guess you’re not a computer geek.

Katherine snorted. No. She wasn’t. But she worked with a
veritable gaggle of them.

SAVAGE: VoIP stands for Voice over Internet Protocol. It’s a
communications program that lets you talk over the internet. Without a phone
line.

WILDKAT: So we could talk instead of type with one hand?

SAVAGE: That’s the idea.

Imagine that. Having two hands free. What havoc could he
wreak on her willing body then? And she could hear his voice. She could imagine
it, deep and commanding. Masterful.

God. The thought of hearing his commands rather than reading
them, of listening to his moans, of hearing him come, made desire stir within
her once again.

WILDKAT: That would be dreamy.

SAVAGE: Have you heard of Trillo–Maris? It’s a software
company that sells VoIP software. Check them out online.

Katherine froze. Then slowly typed.

WILDKAT: I will.

What a lie. She didn’t have to check them out online. She
worked for Trillo–Maris. She could check them out in the office tomorrow.

Funny, wasn’t it? She’d loved her job from the moment she’d
stepped into the elegant foyer—enjoyed every minute as a financial and program
analyst. She’d just never dreamed the deadly dull software they developed would
become so crucial to her love life.

SAVAGE: I have their system on my computer. If you can find
it, we could be breathing heavily into each other’s ears by tomorrow.

Oh God. How delicious.

WILDKAT: I’ll find it. I swear.

SAVAGE: I can’t wait ‘til tomorrow. Same time?

WILDKAT: I wouldn’t miss it for the world.

Chapter Three

The next day dawned way too soon. Katherine slapped the
alarm and yawned. She’d slept like a log but her dreams had been haunted,
filled with whispers of a desire only half fulfilled.

Which was crazy, since Savage had fulfilled her pretty damn
good last night. She’d never come so hard, so deep, never been quite so
sated—even in real life.
Especially
in real life. What did that say
about the man, his sizzling sensuality, that he could do such things to her
body, take her to the heights, make her come until she was weak and wobbly
without ever laying a finger on her?

She nuzzled deeper under the covers and allowed herself to
fantasize about what it would be like to be with him. Really be with him. A
visceral longing grabbed at her gut and tugged.

Then reality nudged into the fantasy and sadness swamped
her. Because she would never be with him. He’d made it very clear right from
the beginning that he was only interested in online play. At the time she’d
merely shrugged. Frankly, she had no desire to discover he was really a short,
balding troll. It was so much more fun to fantasize that he looked like Brad
Pitt.

Or Adam Trillo.

With a start, she realized this was exactly how she pictured
her Savage. With Adam’s blue eyes and long lashes. His thick black hair curling
wickedly about his nape. His broad shoulders and muscular chest and bulging
biceps beneath his casual dress shirts. She couldn’t bear to speculate on what
delights lay quiescent beneath his khakis.

Oh hell. Yes, she could. She spent hours in her office
pretending not to sneak illicit peeks across the hall. And what demon of
torture had seen fit to place her office so close to his anyway? All that
separated them were flimsy panes of glass and a seven-foot corridor. She
watched as he talked on the phone, lazily leaning back in his executive chair
with his feet up on the desk. She watched as he puzzled over software code. She
watched, drooling, as he worked through lunch, making love to a meatball sub.
She watched him a lot.

And he noticed her…never.

Well, that wasn’t precisely true. He noticed her when he
needed her help with a program evaluation or a financial analysis. He made no
bones about the fact that he thought Katherine was a genius. He just didn’t see
her as a
woman
.

And that was the way she liked it. It was. She worked hard
to maintain a professional persona in the office—and for good reason. No one
needed to know how much it cost her.

She sighed and forced herself out of bed. Stretching, she
padded to her closet, which held a collection of prim, proper and downright
repressed business suits. She selected a black pinstripe. She considered a
pretty mauve blouse with a plunging neckline—one she’d bought in a fit of
rebellion—then passed it over and pulled out a blouse of gunmetal gray that
complemented the suit. She finished off the ensemble with a lovely pair of
comfortable black flats. In an outfit like this, she could be easily ignored.

Just the way she liked it.

Although she had to admit, as she brushed her hair back into
a tight bun, today she felt a little different. Today her comfortable suit of
armor, one that had always kept her safe, seemed…itchy. Tight. Repressive.

It was almost as though her session with Savage last night
had awakened something within her, some brazen insanity. Rather than avoiding
the attention of Adam Trillo, she almost wanted to provoke it.

Almost. She snorted as she poured her coffee.

Almost.

She wasn’t crazy.

Katherine had one rule when it came to men at work and it
was born from painful experience. So as attracted as she was to Adam—and she
was—she would continue to play the ice queen.

Then again, it was a moot point. Wasn’t it? Because when
those deep-blue eyes passed over her, they passed
right
over her.

He was simply not attracted to her.

And that was the way she liked it.

Right?

She stopped at Jose’s Taco Shack for a breakfast burrito,
one of her guilty pleasures. There was something addictive in them, Katherine
was pretty sure. It called to her as it sat there in its little paper bag on
the passenger seat beside her. Its delicious scent wafted to her nostrils,
tempting her to rip off the wrapper and shove it into her mouth—to take in the
whole thing, the thick, turgid length of it…

No, wait. She was thinking about Adam again.

Katherine made a face as she pulled into her parking spot in
front of Trillo–Maris, Inc. She had to stop doing that, stop thinking about
Adam like that.

She had to save all her passion, all her wildness, for
Savage.

She had to keep it in check. Keep it in line.

At least ‘til five.

She could ignore Adam until then.

As though she had conjured him with her thoughts, Adam
Trillo pulled in the parking space next to her. Her heart did a little
loop-de-loop. It always did when she saw him. Every time. She wasn’t sure what
it was about him, his looks, his personality, his scent, but she’d never met a
man who affected her like Adam Trillo. She’d never felt like this with any of
the guys she’d dated. Certainly not with Greg, the man she’d met and married—to
their mutual chagrin—in her early twenties.

No. Adam Trillo was a different breed entirely. He was
perfect
.
It was ludicrous to think a man like him would ever be interested in someone
like Katherine. It was stupid to even fantasize about him. Stupid.

Cutting the engine of his sleek black Lexus, he shot her a
friendly smile. Dimples exploded across his handsome face.

Oh dear.
Keeping it in check was going to be hard.

“Good morning, Katherine,” he said, unfolding himself from
the driver’s seat.

She forced herself not to stare at the way his biceps
bunched in his shirtsleeves, the way his buttocks clenched in his Dockers as he
stood. Valiantly, she ignored those broad, strong shoulders, that massive
chest, the way he filled out every inch of his polo shirt. Exquisitely.

Swallowing the drool pooling in her mouth, she grabbed her
burrito and her laptop and joined him on the walkway. She tendered a small,
professional smile. “Mr. Trillo.”

His smile dimmed just a bit. It seemed as though he was
going to say something, something profound, but he just cleared his throat and
asked, “Say, do you know if Sara’s back from her vacation yet?”

Katherine focused and brought up a visual of her calendar in
her mind’s eye. A photographic memory was one of her more valuable talents.
“Tomorrow,” she said. “She’ll be back tomorrow.” Sara was Katherine’s best
friend and coworker, her partner in crime and confidante. She’d gone back East
to visit her mother in the hospital.

“Ah.” Adam opened the door for her. “Tomorrow.”

“Do you need something?”

He blinked. A curious red tide rushed up his cheeks. He
shook his head and smiled—one of his tiny secret smiles, the ones that made him
seem like a mischievous boy. “It can wait.”

“Yes, Mr. Trillo.”

They walked together in silence to their respective offices
and then, with a cool nod, she went left as he went right. She had just dropped
her laptop and her burrito on the desk when a soft knock caught her attention.
She turned slowly, already knowing who it was.

And yes. Adam stood there, leaning against the doorjamb with
his arms crossed over his broad chest, dominating her office, somehow stealing
the oxygen in the room.

“Yes sir?”

He scrubbed a palm over his face. “Katherine. How long have
you worked here?”

She frowned. Didn’t he know? Didn’t he count every second he
spent in her presence? She did. “Two years.” Two years, three months, four days
and, oh, fifteen minutes.

“Two years.” He glanced down at the floor. “You’ve known me
for two years. Do you think you could find it in your heart to call me Adam?”
He shot her a contrite grin. “Mr. Trillo was my dad.”

A red-hot rush climbed her face. Call him Adam? She shook
her head, a panicked little twitch. “But you’re my boss.”

“So is Tristan.”

Yeah. Okay. They owned the company. But Tristan was Tristan
and Adam was…Mr. Trillo.

“I don’t report to Tristan.”

He shot her a sizzling look that could be construed as dark
humor or annoyance. Or perhaps a combination of both.

“Fine.” He blew out a breath. “If you’re more comfortable
Mr.
Trilloing
me then so be it. It was worth a shot. But in the future, if you
could consider calling me Adam, I’d appreciate it.”

Katherine twined her fingers together. “Yes sir,” she
whispered.

He pinned her with his gaze a minute longer. Something akin
to disappointment limned his expression. Then he sighed and left her office.

Collapsing into her chair, Katherine glared dispiritedly at
her beloved burrito.

Her appetite had evaporated completely.

She thought about that conversation with Adam all morning
and Katherine wasn’t quite sure why. It hadn’t been overly personal or
confrontational. He had simply asked her to use his given name. But there had
been something there in the air, an undertone, the haunting memory of last
night’s dream, perhaps, that had shaken her. Or maybe it had been that sad
expression in his eyes.

Whatever. If Katherine was going to protect herself from
Adam’s fatal allure and maintain the emotional distance she’d worked so hard to
build and preserve, the last thing she needed was to get all chummy with him.
She didn’t trust herself to get all chummy with him. It was bad enough that
somehow Adam and Savage had become all tangled up in her mind.

Keeping her personal life and her work separate had never
been a problem. Until today. For some reason today, whenever she drifted into a
Savage fantasy, as she often did, it was Adam’s face she saw.

The last thing she needed was to forget herself, to say
something, do something that let on how she really felt about him. That would
be a disaster of epic proportions. For one thing, she would be mortified if he
knew, if he suspected she was infatuated with him. But even worse, such a
revelation—the discomfort, the issues, the prejudice it would engender—could
scuttle her career with Trillo–Maris. Harsh experience had taught her that much
at least.

In an attempt to rein in her rampant imagination, Katherine
embraced her tried-and-true method of the good old emotional button-up. Her
work. She slid into a complex analysis involving several interlinked Excel
spreadsheets.

The project had her so engrossed she would have worked
through lunch if her friend Jenny hadn’t knocked on the door, waggling a brown
bag, luring her to their usual picnic in the courtyard. Katherine waved her off
with a lame excuse. She didn’t have the fortitude for Jenny’s chatter. Not
today. Instead she ate at her desk, allowing her work to command every ort of
her attention.

She was so absorbed it was nearly time to go home when she
remembered she was supposed to install the VoIP software for Savage.

For their date.

For tonight.

How on earth could she have forgotten?

Though, while the prospect of finally hearing Savage’s voice
excited her, there was always the possibility he might sound like a munchkin on
helium. The latter would, no doubt, ruin the fantasy. Was she willing to risk
it? Just so she could have both hands free?

She contemplated the conundrum—like, for a second—and
decided that yes, it was worth it.

So she went in search of Jack Maris.

In normal circumstances, Jack was the last person in the
world she would go to—for anything. But if she wanted to get a copy of that
application for her laptop, she would have to talk to Adam or Jack. And she
wasn’t going to talk to Adam.
Yikes.
The thought gave her palpitations.

Oh, Jack was a nice guy—most of the time—but he did have his
issues. As cofounder and lead programmer for Trillo–Maris, he was the
definitive computer geek, right down to all the classic stereotypes—brilliant
code writing, superiority complex, extreme social insecurity, obsession with
prefabricated microwavable sandwich pockets. The usual. When it came to women,
he was stuck in adolescence, weebling between painful shyness and clueless,
cheesy come-ons.

She really wasn’t looking forward to this.

But Savage was worth it.

He’d damn well better appreciate it.

She found Jack in the lunchroom, nuking a cardboard-flavored
sandwich in the microwave.

“Hey, Jack.”

His eyes widened behind the thick lenses of his glasses.
“Hey, hot stuff. What’s the haps?”

Katherine didn’t roll her eyes but just barely. “I was
wondering if you could help me out.”

Jack sidled closer and she caught a whiff of…onions? “What
do you need, baby?” He waggled his bushy eyebrows.

Dear God. This was going to be difficult. Katherine sucked
in a deep breath—a huge mistake. Jack’s eyes locked on to her breasts and
boggled. He licked his lips and the tips of his ears went red.

Katherine quickly adopted her most professional demeanor. “I
need to get a copy of the VoIP software for my laptop.”

In a heartbeat, his expression morphed from expectant to
suspicious. He put out his lower lip. “Did Adam ask you to run a program
analysis?”

She hesitated. She could lie and say yes but that might send
Jack running to Adam to whine about “being spied on” like the last time Adam
had ordered a program analysis of one of Jack’s projects. She would hate for
Adam to think of her as a liar, so she opted for the truth. Part of the truth.
“No. I just need a VoIP. I researched it and discovered yours is the best.”

Jack preened like a proud, portly peacock. “It is, isn’t
it?”

“Of course.”

“Do you want the original version or the beta?”