Fair Game (14 page)

He folded her fingers around the vibrator and, eyes on her, rotated the switch at the base to high speed. The buzz worked its way up her arm.

“Go for it,” he whispered, his eyes a blazing blue.

She wasn’t quite at the right angle because usually when she spread her legs, she bent at the knees as well, which served to tip her pelvis and part her lips. The thought gave rise to a brilliant idea.

“Since I have only one hand, I need you to open my pussy.”

“That seems like cheating.”

“Not at all. I just need you to expose my clitoris.”

He gave her a knowing half smile. Okay, yeah, she wanted his fingers on her for a moment, the heat of touch versus the cold plastic.

She puckered up. “Pretty please with sugar on top?”

“Cheater, cheater,” he chanted, but leaned over to glide his fingers over her skin, the pads rough, tingling. Sliding along her pussy, he searched for her clit, finding the nub, rubbing. “Is that it?”

She sucked in a breath, held in a moan. As if he didn’t know. “Yep, that’s it.”

Grabbing the tip of the vibrator, Kyle guided her down to meet his circling finger. They touched at the same time, and Josie jerked.

“No fair coming yet. Not while I’m touching you, too.”

Kyle recognized the moment sensation took over. She closed her eyes, her body flushed, her teeth nipped into her lip. Fingers tensed, she grasped the rope holding her arm over her head, and used the leverage to arch into the vibrator. Her hips rose, fell, rotated.

And she talked to herself. “Yeah, oh God, please.” Panted, chanted again, then pushed the side of her face into the pillow.

Kyle propped himself on his elbow beside her, her sweet, musky scent perfuming the air. Sipping wine, watching her pleasure herself, holy hell, life couldn’t get much better. He was already hard again, but not so close to the edge he couldn’t enjoy the show. “That’s it, baby, ride that vibrator.”

She drove the tip down her slit and inside, humping it, filling the room with the slip-slide sounds of her pussy.

“Oh yeah, baby, you’re so fucking perfect.” Beautiful pink pussy, full lips, tight, plump clit, and all that cream.

Her legs trembled against the bonds, her body rose and fell with the vibrator’s rhythm, then she held it still, right on her clit. Her breath sawed through her lips as she shoved her head back into the pillow, then a low keening welled up from her throat. She bucked, cried out, panted, then wailed loud enough to wake the neighbors beside, above, and below their room. The hot, over-the-top sound wrapped around his cock, going on forever, her orgasm hard.

As if she couldn’t take another moment, she tossed the vibrator, hitting the wall, and collapsed into the bed. There she lay, her breasts rising and falling, until finally she turned just her head and slowly opened her eyes to gaze at him. Her lips curved in the sweetest of smiles.

“Top that,” she whispered.

He wasn’t sure he could. He wasn’t sure that women really did need men. They could get their sperm from a bank, and their orgasms from a piece of cold plastic.

“It was only so good because I was watching,” he said in defense.

She laughed, closed her eyes again, and relaxed into the pillow. “I wasn’t even looking at you.”

So true. “I guess I have my work cut out for me.”

“Yes, you do.” She flapped her free hand. “Better get busy. Or I might fall asleep, and you’ll never win.”

They hadn’t established any parameters. “What do I get if my orgasm is better?”

“The pleasure of giving it to me.”

“Wench,” he answered mildly. Crawling between her legs, he lapped at her juices. So sweet. When he touched his tongue to her clitoris, she bucked.

“Hey, not fair,” she muttered. “I made myself all sensitive.”

He sucked the nub, swirled his tongue, then jabbed lightly with the tip. She writhed sinuously and started that sweet croon of hers. “Oh yeah, baby, oh, God.”

His hand on her abdomen right above her mound, Kyle stretched her skin, pulling her pussy wide, fully exposing her clit. He went at her with lips and tongue and fingers, two inside her as he sucked.

Josie wanted his cock. Inside her. Now. Deep. Hard. She’d lied. There were things a woman couldn’t do for herself. Hot, hard flesh beat cool plastic every time. But this was just his tongue, his mouth . . . Oh God. Sensation shot out from her clit, shivered along her limbs, shuddered deep into her belly, tingled at the tip of her breasts.

“Yeah, yeah,” she whispered.

He grabbed her butt, held her firm, made her take everything he wanted to do to her. Jesus, that was the difference. If it got too intense with a vibrator, you backed off. You couldn’t help yourself. Kyle wouldn’t let her go. When she wailed, he sucked harder. When she bucked, he plunged his fingers deeper. When she tangled the fingers of her free hand in his hair and yanked, he growled, the vibrations shimmying through her. He met every sway and dip of her body, rolled with her.

Wrapping her hand around the rope, she strained closer, her hips rising, rotating, her whole body rocking. She heard herself wail, out of control, and it only made the sensations hotter, harder, brighter. Stars shot back and forth behind her closed lids, then they exploded like fireworks.

And still he wouldn’t let her go. When she reached the pinnacle at which she would have tossed the vibrator and rolled into a ball, he circled her clit, kept his tongue right there no matter how hard she tried to buck him off. She rode the wave until she didn’t know her name or where they were. Until she no longer felt the mattress beneath her, just the never-ending quake of her body. Until his mouth and her pussy seemed as one.

He retreated only when a tear leaked from the corner of her eye. She felt it run down her temple into her hair. The pleasure was almost pain, intense, glorious, infinite.

This
was what they meant by died and gone to heaven. Especially as Kyle soothed her with light kisses, on her mound, her hip, her thighs, caressing her with his fingers. Then he crawled back up to lie beside her. That was another thing a vibrator couldn’t give you, the sweet aftermath.

“Well?” There was a wealth of cocky in his tone.

She cracked one eyelid. And glared. “You win.” Good God, she didn’t want to move. “Maybe you should untie me now.” She was beginning to feel vulnerable all over again.

Her eyes closed, she could feel every shift of his body as he untied her feet and hand. Cupping the back of her head, he held the glass of wine to her lips and helped her drink. She gulped, the alcohol going immediately to her head.

Then she curled into a ball and turned away from him. She loved oral sex, and most of her lovers had been adequate at it. Honestly though, some of her own self-generated orgasms were better. Not so with Kyle. Silver-tongued devil.

She had to lay quiet for a moment and think about what that meant. Or what it changed.

Leaning over her, he stroked the hair back from her forehead. “Best ever?”

She liked the way he smelled, that barely there aftershave, a slightly sweet yet tangy scent she couldn’t identify. It came back to her at the oddest times. In meetings, or when she was on the phone with a customer. In her bed late at night.

“It was good.” Best ever? God. Yes. It was. How could that be? She was thirty years old; she’d had several lovers. She’d actually been in love once. How could that orgasm have been the best?

“Liar,” he chided softly. “A woman doesn’t cry out a man’s name like that if it wasn’t the best.”

She had cried out his name. Most of the time in the throes of ecstasy, she couldn’t remember her partner’s name. It didn’t matter. It was just physical. But she’d used Kyle’s name.

“It was just sex. I told you screaming and crying makes it better.” But why his name? “So you’ve got a clever tongue. Big deal.” Oh boy, it had been a terribly big deal. Her ears were still ringing.

He laughed and rolled her into his arms. “Have it your way. But I won.”

He had. Hands down. Her body would never be the same. She’d expect, need, crave one of those climaxes every time. She’d like to say it was only because she’d made herself come so hard first, that she’d set up the next explosive orgasm for him. Yet she’d done all that with other men before. Something was different with him. Her body would turn against her, make her need to have him around more than once a week, for more than just an evening. Maybe even all night. For a lot of nights.

Really, that wasn’t a good thing. Not at all. Needing and craving led to obsession. She so wasn’t going there ever again. Once was enough.

 

 

 

KYLE watched her drive away, then went back into the hotel to check out. It had been better than a clever tongue. It wasn’t just sex. It had been more than proving his touch was superior to her vibrator.

He was having feelings about her now. Strong emotions. They felt good. He wanted to enjoy them. He wasn’t sure, though, if that was a good thing in the long run.

 

 

 

BRIGHT and early Thursday morning—God, her body felt good upon waking even though she’d left the hotel just before midnight—Josie pulled into Castle’s parking lot. She turned off the engine and the auto locks popped up. Chuck Eastman yanked open her car door and climbed into the passenger seat. His knees almost hit his chest, and he had to bend his head so it didn’t scrape the roof. “I want to talk to you now.”

No. Not now. Josie was still in overload from last night with Kyle. Maybe that was why she wanted to bash Eastman’s face in for having the nerve to get in her car uninvited. She needed a little calm right now. She opened her mouth after a deep breath. “I’m not even inside yet. Couldn’t we at least wait until we’ve got our coffee?” There, that sounded polite instead of a PMSing woman who was up, up, up one moment and mad as a stampeding buffalo the next.

They were an hour early, and only a quarter of the parking spaces were filled. Eastman shoved a big hand through his thick brown hair and glanced at the main lobby doors of Castle Heavy Mining. “Trust me, you don’t want to have this conversation inside where it will end up being official.”

Oh God. A headache built behind her eyes. She had so much crap to do today. Three of her projects still required a lot of oversight despite the fact that they’d been passed on to Ronson, Jenkins, and Walker. It took time for another program manager to come up to speed. She’d also managed to find two job candidates and had HR hustle them in for first-round interviews. Today. And Eastman, well, despite being six-three and a big, buffed guy with loads of rippling muscles, he could be a bit of a melodramatic pantywaist.

“Spill, Chuck.”

“Lydia pinched my ass.”

She laughed. Then immediately slapped her hand over her mouth.

“It’s not funny.” He glared with Neanderthal eyebrows that stretched all the way across his forehead. “She pinches hard.”

“I’m sorry.” God, she was going to make a total mess of it if she wasn’t careful. “It was shock laughter. I simply couldn’t believe what you said.”

Jarvis Castle arrived in his big old boat of a car, then walked to the front doors. Like the Mona Lisa’s, his eyes never left Josie where she sat in her car. Good God, why did the old man have to be in so early and what must he be thinking?

“But it’s true,” Eastman went on. “And this is the third time. I thought about going to HR, but I figured I’d give you the benefit of the doubt first.”

Meaning, he’d see if she had the guts to do anything about it. First, it was Ronson giving her shit and claiming reverse discrimination, then Lydia wanting a raise, and now sexual harassment in the workplace. Ernie hadn’t even been gone two weeks, and the place was going to hell.

“I will have a talk with Lydia and make sure it never happens again.”

Eastman glared at her for a long moment. His lips worked as if he had a lot more to say. Instead, he relented. “Okay.”

Thank God. Crisis averted. She was sure Lydia hadn’t meant a thing. She was just a kid, and Eastman did have a very pinchable ass. Not that she was making excuses for Lydia’s behavior.

Inside, Josie got her coffee, then cleared her desk, which was the main reason she always arrived early when she wasn’t on a job site. She liked to answer her e-mails and take care of niggling crap that seemed to require extraordinary amounts of time when people were interrupting you every few minutes. She waited until after eight, giving Lydia time to settle in herself, then buzzed the girl’s phone.

Lydia bounced in a few seconds later.

Josie motioned with her fingers. “Close the door.”

Her face lighting up, Lydia shut the door and threw herself into the chair opposite. “You got me my raise.”

“No, I did not.”

Her smile was quickly replaced by a frown. “Did you even try?”

Dammit. She couldn’t get a word in edgewise. “I didn’t call you in here about your salary. It’s about Chuck’s ass.”

Lydia stared at her.

Shit. Josie heaved a great sigh. “I mean it’s about you pinching Chuck’s butt.”

Lydia huffed. “I didn’t pinch his butt.”

“He says you did.”

“I tapped him.” Lydia rolled her eyes. “He was in my way.”

“Three separate times?”

Her lips twitched. “I don’t know about three times.”

“Lydia, whether it’s a tap or a pat or a pinch, you can’t touch your male coworkers in those areas. In fact, you shouldn’t touch them at all.” There, that was safe.

“This is about my raise, isn’t it?”

Josie resisted her own eye roll. “What does pinching Chuck have to do with your raise?”

“I didn’t pinch him, I only tapped him, and you’re just going to use this as an excuse to write me up so you don’t have to give me a raise.”

“He believes you pinched him, not tapped him, and you shouldn’t tap him ever. And no, I’m not writing you up. This is just a warning, and not even a verbal warning, which would go in your record”—she hoped she was right about the procedure—“but only between you and me.
Unless
I get more complaints.” She let out a rush of air after that lengthy dissertation. “Got it?”