Forbidden Fruit: Volume 1 (39 page)

I looked down at the black lace bra and matching panties I’d changed into while upstairs gathering my things. “Of course.”

He climbed onto the bed and kissed the curves of my breasts. He pulled one cup down, trussing me up for his mouth. I arched my back, clawing at the fabric of his dress shirt. He lifted to remove it and his undershirt by the collar.

I felt suddenly nervous in the hands of a man, so different from my experience with Trey. He had chest hair, defined, hard muscles, and faint lines around his eyes. He was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen. He stood from the bed and removed his pants the rest of the way, licking his lips as he did. He didn’t glance down and around self-consciously the way Trey usually did; he looked at me like he was about to pull out silverware and eat me.

“Stand up,” he said.

I got to my feet in front of him.

“Turn around.”

I did, keeping him in my sight with my head over my shoulder. “Good,” he murmured, unclasping my bra. He leaned in and hugged me to his back, grasping my breasts. He kissed my cheek and dropped his hands to my panties. His fingers hooked in the elastic, and we both watched as he pulled them over my hips and dropped them at my ankles. His hardness pressed against my back as he sighed into my ear. His hands explored me leisurely, feeling between my legs, gliding along my wetness. When I couldn’t stand it anymore, I turned in his embrace and touched his cheeks. I kissed him, and it wasn’t long before we were falling back on the bed. I opened my legs to let him in when he pressed against me. He entered me slowly but firmly, pulling back every few seconds and thrusting a little deeper.

“Are you on birth control?” he asked as his pace increased.

“Yes,” I breathed.

“Because I want to come inside you, Alexandra.”

I nodded but said, “I thought you wanted to come on me.”

“I did,” he said with a small smile. “But that was before I wanted you as mine.”

“Yours?” I repeated, stunned.

His smile fell, and he leaned into the curve of my neck, driving faster into me. The idea of being his made my entire body hot. My arms wrapped tightly around his neck, and my legs contracted around his waist. He picked me up, turned us around, and backed me up against the nearest wall. He was suddenly insatiable, bouncing me against it and nipping my earlobe. He held me up with one hand and the other wedged between us to find my sensitive clit. He rubbed it softly, but his fingers quickly grew firm and demanding. It pushed me over the edge and I came all around him. He never stopped fucking me through it, nailing me to the wall over and over until he thrust deep and came for what felt like minutes, groaning in my ear while sliding in and out slowly. He bent his head and touched his lips to mine, a drawn-out, sweet kiss.

He didn’t speak but pulled me from the wall and carried me into the bathroom before setting me on the counter. I looked around the lavish, marble space while he turned the faucet of the bathtub. He grabbed a bottle and poured liquid into the water.

“A bath?” I asked. “With bubbles?”

“You girls like bubble baths, don’t you?”

I smiled. “Yes.”

“Well, I like seeing you naked, so we both win.”

I giggled and crossed my arms, suddenly shy.

He shook his head while holding his hand under the stream of water. “Please—
please
do not ever cover yourself up in front of me. It’s offensive.”

My face reddened, but my smile grew. I let my arms fall away, thinking I’d never met anyone as straightforward as him. He left the water running and walked to the door. “Want a drink?” he asked.

“I’m underage.”

“As if I could forget.
Can you pretend to be an adult tonight?”

I stuck out my bottom lip, and he laughed.

“Or don’t,” he said.

“I’ll have what you’re having.”

I sighed happily to myself over what had just happened, waiting for him. Who knew it could be that good?
Who knew?

Dean reentered the bathroom and walked directly to me, setting two glasses on the counter. He slid my hips forward so we fit perfectly together. “Red wine for you,” he murmured. “I didn’t think you’d care for scotch.”

“I’ve never tasted it,” I said.

“No?” He brought his drink to his lips and took a sip. He leaned in and licked his tongue over mine.

“I think I like it.” I tried for more. “A lot,” I added.

He bent me backward over his forearm and kissed me more excitedly.

“You sure do kiss a lot for not being big on it,” I said.

“I’m getting the feeling it has more to do with who I’m kissing than anything.”

We looked at each other until my eyes widened. “The bath.”

He turned and twisted the knob just in time, but when he climbed in and sat, water sloshed over the side.

“Open that drawer under your legs,” he said.

“You can’t tell me what to do anymore.”

“Technically you’re mine for the week, and . . . if I’m not mistaken, it’s Saturday night.”

“That was only until Friday.”

“You sure about that? Where in our contract did it say Friday?”

My brows furrowed. “There was no contract.”

“Then it’s my word against yours. And since I’m the boss . . .”

I rolled my eyes playfully.

He winked as I hopped down from the counter to open the drawer. I surveyed the contents. “Cigars?” I asked.

I selected one and picked a few more things from the drawer. I left our drinks behind and sat in the bath across from him while holding my hands above water.

“Can I cut it for you?” I asked.

“I’ve never let anyone cut my cigar before.”

I smiled and held it over the bathtub’s ledge.

“How do you know how to do that?” he asked as I positioned the guillotine.

“Dad taught me.” I chopped it in one motion. I held it to my lips, lit it, then handed it to him.

He raised his eyebrows. “I might be impressed,” he said.

I shrugged. “So, what would the office say if they knew I was in a bath with Mr. Brittany?”

He laughed.

“Have, um . . .”

“Yes?” he prompted.

“Have any of them taken a bath with Mr. Brittany?”

“I told you how I feel about interoffice relationships.”

“I know, but you broke that rule pretty quickly with me.”

“I’m aware.”

“Is it because I was a temp?”

“It’s because you’re you.”

I grinned. “You know, when you’re not the boss, you can be sort of romantic. But don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.”

He smiled too and rested his head against the back of the tub. I watched him smoke with his eyes closed for a while.

“That was an interesting conversation at dinner.”

“Which one?” he asked.

“About you and Cathy.”

He grunted. “What’re you getting at?”

“I’m just wondering why you’re still single. I mean,” I paused, swallowing, “you are, aren’t you? When you said you were seeing someone—”

“Of course I was talking about you,” he said. “It was all in good fun.”

“Oh. Okay.”

He raised an eyebrow and opened his eyes. “If I had a girlfriend, she’d be sitting where you are right now. I’m not the type to fuck around.”

I looked down at his tone. “Good,” I said. “I’m glad to hear that.”

He closed his eyes again and continued smoking. I watched him, wondering what nerve I’d struck. Wondering why I didn’t want this night to end. Finally, he set down his cigar. “Do you want to go home tonight?” he asked.

I shifted against the back of the tub. “I will if you want me to.”

He lifted his head. “That wasn’t the question.”

I looked around the bathroom, chewing on the inside of my lip. “No,” I said after a moment. “I don’t want to.”

“Then you’ll stay the night.”

I nodded. “Okay.”

He stood up from the water. I blinked away quickly, reddening because it put me face to face with his cock. He grabbed two towels from the nearest rack and handed me one. I followed him into the bedroom and to the bed.

From behind, he stripped my towel away and kissed my shoulder. He squatted down. Before I could turn my head over my shoulder, he pushed me forward so I was folded over the bed. He licked me softly between the legs, and my body shuddered.

“Did he do this for you?” Dean asked.

“Yes,” I whispered.

“You’re soapy,” he said. “And sweet.”

His tongue became more insistent, harder. Flatter. Then demanding again. I pushed my forehead into the mattress, welcoming each flick that brought me closer to where I wanted to be.

He stood up and closed himself over my back. His cock sank into me from behind, a perfect fit. I moaned into the bed, my teeth biting the comforter. I felt his hand in my long hair, wrapping it around his wrist, and urging me backward. His lips sought mine, so I turned my head to give him what he wanted. His hips rammed faster into me, my hair still firm in his grip.

“I’m going to pull your hair, and you’re going to come,” he said, barely moving his mouth from mine.

“Yes,” I said.

He kissed me again, the corner of my mouth, snaking his tongue along my teeth. He pulled my hair hard so my head flew back in the same moment his thrusts became relentless.

“That’s good, Alexandra,” he said. It wasn’t just the drive of his hard cock that ignited my orgasm but the way he controlled my body. “Come for me. Fuck, I’m about to come too.”

My orgasm was less intense but lasted longer. I was still shuddering under him as he emptied himself in me. He lay heavy on top of me as we caught our breath.

“Dean,” I breathed. “Mr. Brittany.”

“Yes, Alex?” He kissed my cheek, then over my hair. “Miss James?”

“I can’t believe you fingered me in front of my parents.”

He laughed in a burst of air against my cheek. “It was just a sample. God, and I was so fucking hard.”

I smiled. “Yes, I know.”

He lifted himself up and drew back the sheets of the bed. I crawled in beside him, melting when he pulled my body securely to his side. I placed my cheek on his chest.

“Earlier in the bathtub, you sounded a little angry when I asked if you were seeing anyone.”

“What was with the questions about other women?”

“I just—I know you divorced from Amy a few years ago—”

“Five.”

“Okay, five. Why haven’t you remarried? Why don’t you have a girlfriend?”

His chest rose and fell with a sigh. “Amy cheated on me.”

I grimaced. Cheating on someone like Dean seemed inherently wrong—and a little scary. “I’m sorry. Dad never mentioned that.”

“Since then, I haven’t really had the desire to fully commit to anyone else.”

My lips pressed into a line. “That’s not really fair. You shouldn’t let her ruin love for you like that.”

“That’s a good attitude,” he said as if he were trying not to laugh. “Naïve, but a good one nonetheless.”

“Naïve?” I balked.

“Marriage doesn’t run solely on love. There are many other things that factor in.”

“But you and Amy seemed happy. At least I remember it that way.”

“We were. I loved her, and when I found out what was going on, it hurt. But we went through therapy, and I learned the reasons behind it. I worked too much, didn’t pay enough attention to her or anything in our lives. I was in the city five days a week for work, and some nights I wouldn’t even have the energy to make the short drive home. She felt neglected. She thought maybe I saw other women when I slept here—I never did. We finally started communicating.”

“Then why did you divorce?”

“Like I said, it’s not just about love. Our marriage was too damaged at that point. We tried for a few months, but she’d lost my trust completely, and on top of that, I blamed myself.”

He was different while he spoke. Human. After being so rigid this week, his vulnerability was not only welcome but attractive. I hugged him closer to me, and he ran a hand over my hair.

“So I’ve spilled my guts,” he said. “You know more about my relationship with my ex-wife than most. How about you? Why don’t you tell me about this boy?”

Boy? It seemed so long ago now. Had I been crying over him just a few days earlier? “I’m naked in bed with you. Wouldn’t that be weird?”

“No. Go ahead. Who is this kid?”

“Trey,” I said. “I met him at orientation, and we ended up in the same dorm. We’ve been dating since around Thanksgiving.”

“Has he met your parents?”

I shook my head. “He was going to this summer.”

“Where is he now?”

“Mexico. We were all going for Spring Break, but I backed out last minute.” I shrugged. “He said he wouldn’t go if I did, and the thought of drinking and partying all week without him didn’t sound like fun.”