I Love My Healed Heart: 4 Book Box Set/Omnibus (Erotic Romance) (6 page)

“GO!” she calls over her shoulder, before she escapes into her office
to get far away from me, the alien who stole my body and became Super-Jessica
(shudder).

I stand up and look around to make sure the coast is clear, so I can
put my panties back on. I’m not walking downstairs without panties. No way!
After I slide them safely back on, I fly out of my chair and walk very quickly
to the elevator. Everyone I pass, after what I just yelled, thinks I have to
poop. But that’s okay. They won’t wonder why I’m taking so long.

I am a genius.

Minutes Later

When I come out of the elevator, there are a lot of people entering
the building for work. They’re signing in with the security desk, talking on their
cellphones, fighting each other for who gets to get onto the elevator first.
It’s a madhouse, as usual. And it’s only 9 a.m. I shake my head and make a
beeline for the bathroom. There’s a girl waiting in line. Short brown super
chic hair. Brown eyes that remind me of Keira Knightley’s. I don’t know her,
but I absolutely love her dress. It’s a Gretchen Jones piece. I could tell
instantly by the patterns because they remind me of Atari, that old video game
my older brother used to play.

“Gretchen Jones?” I offer, trying to show how cool I am. That
designer is so hot right now. Everyone loves her, including me.

“Yep.” The way she answers me makes me feel like a loser. That’s not
the feeling I was going for. I know I should shut up, and write her off, but I
don’t.

“I was at her show last fall. I handle all of Fashion Week. Our
passes. Who gets what. You know. All that stuff,” I vomit.

She doesn’t say anything. She’s had Botox. I can tell. And she’s like
what, twenty-eight? She’s cute so what is she doing getting Botox? The bar is
raised in this city. I get it.

Her silence is so loud I feel myself needing to compete with it. I
can’t help it.

“Have you been to their store in Chelsea?” I continue, smiling a
little. Okay, a lot. She gives me an answer with the smallest shake of her head
and looks at the door, hoping I’ll leave her alone.

You know what. Screw her. I decide to really freak her out. “We
should hang out, sometime. I can find you on Facebook.”

That does it.

“Tyler! Hey!” she yells to some guy who turns at her voice. To me she
says, “Excuse me,” and makes a beeline for him, leaving me alone with the
bathroom door.

Ha! Suck on that one time. I tap on the door. It opens and James
smiles at me, looks around, grabs my arm and yanks me in before shutting the
door and locking it.

“That was really smooth, Jess.” He smirks, pulling me toward him.

“She was a bitch,” I tell him from behind a grin.

“I know. I could tell by her knock that it wasn’t you. So I waited.”

He leans down and kisses me. I feel electric shocks light up my body
and it’s so unexpected that I gasp. We pull away and look at each other. He
felt it, too. That wasn’t your average kiss.

“Umm…” I whisper.

“What was that?” he asks me, surprised.

“I don’t know. It was something.”

“It sure was.” He picks me up like Mark did in the elevator (Oh my
God. Do not think of Mark right now!) and carries me over to the sink where he
sits me down on it, my legs wrapped around him.

He takes my mouth in his, searches me as I respond and allow him in.
We both breathe in each other, the chemistry blowing up and igniting us. I
don’t know if this heightened electricity is us or if it’s brought out because
it’s the danger of doing this in the middle of a work-day, but it’s so exciting
and I am loving every minute of it. The Bitch would die if she knew!

I let go of thoughts of her and of everything as his hands press into
my back. Just like I need it, he massages under my shoulder blades, works his
way down my spine to relieve a lifetime’s worth of tension while his tongue
licks mine, deliciously. I tighten my grip on his shoulders, so broad and
masculine. I can feel the muscles pulling and moving underneath his shirt. With
a squeeze of my legs I draw him in closer until I feel his hardness pressing
against me through the thin fabric of my rumpled dress. He is throbbing. These
suit pants he’s wearing are not doing a good job of hiding the sweet promise of
his size now that he’s full.

“You put your panties back on,” he says into my ear, like I’ve been a
bad girl. I giggle and nod as he shakes his head
tsk tsk tsk.
The pressure of his fingers as he massages my ass is
amazing, and our joined mouths are feverishly communicating how great this
feels. It feels soooo great. He uses all the pressure points that make me go limp.
I let go of his mouth and lean back into the sensuality of his slow-moving
massage, pressing my breasts into his chest, my neck thrown back. I let my eyes
close to enjoy it. My breathing comes heavier as he moves down and molds my
upper thighs where they meet my torso, pushing and pulling my legs like their his
clay. But he doesn’t touch my pussy yet. Instead, he gnaws on my neck, nibbling
and biting and applying pressure in the yummiest way.

It almost hurts. There’s a mixture of pleasure, pain and something
else… Our bodies are begging to join. I can feel it, and I don’t want to wait.
The unbearable torment of impatience is demanding all of my attention. I push
myself against the hardness of his cock. Our bodies sway as we suck on each
other’s lips, pull at each other, press ourselves onto the other. The pressure
builds inside of me. I feel the pulse between my legs as my arousal builds
 
for him. I can’t let him do to me, what
he did yesterday. I can’t let him leave me wanting him, again. Fuck no. He’s not
going to do that again. I’m not that type of girl. I’m the type of girl who
follows this urge once I’ve come this far. I’m not a tease and he’d better not
be one either. The clothing between us is driving my body insane.

I want him. Inside of me. Filling me. Now.

“I can’t stand it, James. Fuck me. Please. I am begging you. Please
fuck me.”

 
I open my eyes, imploring
him. I know I am begging for it, almost ordering him to do it and I don’t care.
I need him to see how desperate I am for him, tell him that it’s him that is
doing this to me so he knows he’s the man…. and he’s wanted. But I don’t have
to worry because he’s right there with me, engorged and enflamed past the
ability to stop. I can see fire light his eyes up when I ask for it.

“You want it? You asked for it.” He slides his right hand underneath
my dress, around and underneath my panties. I push my hips up so he can get at
me easily. Touch me. I want to scream. Taste me, stroke me, fuck me. All of it.
My body is acting on her own, now. I am opened and very,
very
wet. My clit is practically humming. When he touches me with
the tip of his finger I feel a callous and it feels like a cat’s tongue. I’m
guessing he plays the guitar in his spare time because I dated a musician once
and this is what it felt like. The ridges of the callous is enough to send me
over the edge, rough enough to stimulate me more than a smooth finger could. So
that’s what I felt through my panties, yesterday. This is what made his touch
feel extra wonderful.

I move on his hand, rubbing myself against it. I follow the feelings
inside of me, increasing the pressure as I rub back and forth on him. He
watches me, smiling, loving how I’m riding his hand. He bends a finger, a
thumb, all of them, at just the right moments giving me an all consuming and
agonizingly sweet escalation of desire. I lean in toward him and he takes my
mouth in his again, the taste of him so good in my mouth. I moan, really quiet
so that only he can hear me, and this is what does it. This moan…

“I was going to wait, make you cum like this, but I have to fuck you
Jessica,” he says breathlessly into my mouth. I hold onto the sink as he
unbuckles his belt, unzips his zipper, and drops both his pants and his boxer
briefs (so hot).

“I was just about to cum,” I mock complain. I was but this is better.
Still, I hate stopping because seriously I was on the edge and I am throbbing
more than he is.

“Good. Hold onto that.” With both hands he reaches down and yanks off
my panties, tosses them over his shoulder to get rid of them. I see his cock
standing straight up, crimson silky and beautiful. He pulls out a condom and
whips it on so fast that I mouth the word “Woah.”

Someone knocks on the door and he grins at me. Are you fucking
kidding me right now? First Prizzi interrupting and now whoever the fuck is on
the other side of the door? Man, I must have a thing for public places.

With the help of his right hand, still glistening, he enters me
easily and with delightful force. A moan threatens to tear through me. He
muffles any chance of noise by latching his mouth hard onto mine as he pushes
deep, deep, inside of me. He plunges his tongue into my mouth in time with the
drilling his cock is giving me, and the double entry is insane. Hard deep
thrusts fill me again and again. I can feel the inner walls of my pussy expand
by his force, feel the vibration of my clit as this position helps hit it in
just the right angle. His hips bend down and he’s moving them in moves I
thought only hip-hop dancers could do; the kind of bam, mmmm, bam bam bam
thing. So good.

It takes me no time at all for the blood in my body to rush down to
fill my lips, my pussy, my little bean. The orgasm rips through my senses with
his hip moves; intense, huge and unprecedented. When I want to scream, he bites
my lips and makes me quiet. When I want to moan, he shoves his delicious tongue
inside my mouth and tickles my own tongue with it. As I cum poised on the sink,
he elongates my thrill by deepening his penetration and holding it there,
moving it around with his hips, maintaining the depth that it’s buried in me. I
grip onto his shoulders and collapse. I can’t take any more. He bites my lips
to stop me from screaming. When he comes, jerking and halting and pulsing, with
me, his orgasm sends me through another wave of sweet deep contractions. He
exhales, his gorgeous head bending back as he stretches himself, pressing up
into me with one final thrust. Oh yes.

As soon as it’s over – and I mean at the very instant it’s over
– we hear a key in the door.

“Hang on! I’m in here!” James hurriedly yells to whoever’s got keys
to the bathroom. Must be the security guy? We’re about to find out!

James grabs my panties and tosses them to me. In his haste, he hits
me in the face with them, which he doesn’t see because he’s busy removing the
condom and flushing it. So glamorous, this moment. I stifle a laugh and put
them on, tingling like mad. I love this feeling! It’s like there’s pressure or
something… but from what? From the beating I just took? Yes, that probably it. Amazing.

I look at the mirror and my mouth is a mess! Lipstick smeared
everywhere. Plus, it’s raw-looking since he was so rough with me. Which I
loved. But how the hell am I going to justify this? I loud-whisper to him,
“Look at my mouth!” Mid belt buckling, he looks up and makes a face that says I
look crazy-town. Not good.

“Hang on!” he yells through the door. He comes over, snatches a paper
towel from the dispenser, runs warm water over it and drips a couple drops of
soap, to help. Then he washes my face. I am flabbergasted by his cleaning me,
like this. It’s so sweet. But I don’t dare say anything. I just stand there,
looking helpless (and probably adorable) and let him clean me up. His beautiful
face so close to mine is frowning with concentration until he finally feels
that he has succeeded in making me presentable. “I think it’s better now,” he
says.

I turn and look and it’s better, but it’s not great. It will have to
do. “I have some makeup in my bag upstairs. I can fix it.”

“Can you fix the damage you just did to my cock?” he smiles. Soooo
handsome! Damn.

“Let me give it a shot,” I throw back. He kisses me quickly and we
separate to leave.

How is this going to work? We look to each other and he shrugs,
inhales, and opens the door, come what may. Standing on the other side is… no
one. No one is there. We look at each other and wonder what happened. We had
heard voices, keys, etc… Where did they go? The security guard pops up all of a
sudden from behind the desk, having dropped something on the floor, I guess. He
looks over - but before he does - I turn to face James, as if I just walked up
to him.

“Finally! I’ve been waiting for the bathroom!” I say, loud enough for
the entire huge lobby to hear.

“Sorry. All yours now,” James smiles, shaking his head.

“Thanks.” I look to the security guy and call over, “It’s okay! He’s
out now. Finally, right? Thank you!” He looks confused and nods slowly. I walk
into the bathroom and just as I’m about to shut it, James stops me.

“I forgot my phone,” he says in a nice normal voice. As he walks past
me and I hold the door, waiting, I hear him whisper, “What are you doing
tonight?”

“I have plans with my girlfriends,” I mumble for his ears only.

His voice is barely audible as he passes by on his way out. “Cancel
them,” he says, and then louder, “Sorry. Thanks.” He walks to the elevator and
doesn’t wait for an answer.

The security guy gave up looking at us, but I still feel the need to
go inside the bathroom like he’ll know if I don’t. Guilty conscience, that’s
me.
 

Inside, I shut the door and lean on it.

What. Just. Happened.

When I finally get back to my desk, there is a note on it, folded and
tucked under my keyboard, with a little corner sticking out.
 
I look to The Bitch’s office and her
door is still closed. She’s probably in there drinking to forget. I sit down on
my swivel chair a little too quickly, spin a bit, pull out the note and open it
to find there’s a phone number on it. Am I supposed to call him? I don’t call
men. I just don’t. I stand up and look around; Of course he’s not there. Amy
sees me and waves.