Money Shot (77 page)

He wanted her.

God protect him—he wanted to pull out the fingers still inside her, replace them with his hard, throbbing cock, bury himself to the hilt, feel her tight body clench around him.

He had been hard as a rock since she opened the door to her apartment and stood there, all soft, touchable skin, that blue velvet gown hugging her figure, and displaying her firm, spectacular breasts. He wanted to kiss every inch of her, starting with those breasts.

She was so different from the buttoned up, sensible woman who scheduled his appointments and made sure he didn’t starve when he was caught up in a project.

Hell, she was different from any woman he’d ever met. Marcus had wanted to see what was hiding under her boxy suits for months now, and damn, she did not disappoint. Every luscious, curvy inch made his mouth water. And that waist—it had surprised him when his hands caught her in his office, and kept going in, until he circled that tiny, impossible waist.

He kissed her instead, her lips as soft and sensual as he suspected, his fingers still stroking her at the same pace his tongue ravaged her mouth. She kept moaning, quiet, devastating moans that drove right into his cock. When she tightened around his fingers, ready to come apart again, he couldn’t stand it another second.

“Leah.” He whispered against her lips, hoping his voice didn’t sound as desperate as he felt. “Can you stand, gorgeous?”

Her eyes opened, the clear blue depths hazy with passion. God—it only made him throb harder.

“I think so.” Her voice turned him on in a way he couldn’t explain.

He freed her lips and wrapped his arm around her waist. Her moan joined his as he eased his fingers out of her. “Only for a minute, sweetheart.”

“What…” When he turned her around and sat on the bench behind her, she flashed him a smile over her bare shoulder. “Oh.”

Marcus barely had the control to shove her skirt up before he jerked her back and down on his lap. The feel of her against his erection had him rocking up, needing the friction, the connection with her. His hand slipped around and spread over her belly. She covered it with hers, and rubbed over his crotch.

“Leah—”

She shocked the hell out of him by pulling free, then she turned around and straddled him. Her hand closed over his erection, and she stroked him through the too tight crotch of his trousers. His cock jerked under her fingers, wanting to be free.

“Let me touch you, Marcus.”

He didn’t have the strength to say no. Leah kept her gaze on him as she popped the button on his trousers, then slid the zipper open. His cock jumped to attention, only the silk of his boxers containing it. He almost bolted off the bench when she slipped her hand inside his boxers and closed her fingers around him.

“Leah.” He swallowed, and spoke while he still had blood in his brain. “You don’t need to—”

“Reciprocate? I believe I do. I want to watch you fall apart, Marcus Hawkins. I want it to happen while I stroke you, touching every inch of this beautiful cock.”

He nearly lost it right there. What happened to his timid assistant? This woman, still flushed from her orgasm, had just taken charge, holding him like she meant business.

She let go of him, slid off his lap and knelt next to him on the bench. Her body blocked any stray guest from seeing exactly what she was doing to him. Before he could miss her touch she had her hand on him again.

“I don’t want anything to get on this incredible gown. Did I thank you for it yet? Let me do that now.”

He clutched the edge of the bench as her hand tightened around him and slid to the base of his cock. With slow, long strokes, she worked him. His hips arched off the bench when her finger traced around his tip. He couldn’t stop himself—he started thrusting against her hand. He’d been so aroused for so long, he knew it wouldn’t take much for him to explode.

“Shit—Leah—”

“Tell me what you want, Marcus.”

“Faster,” he panted. His balls were already pulling up, the pressure uncontrollable. Every touch, every stroke set him on fire. He was sweating, bucking against her hand, needing faster, harder—needing release.

As if she heard him, her grip tightened, her hand pumping up and down his length. Her breathing was as ragged as his, and he realized she was turned on.

“Leah—”

“You feel so good, so hard. I don’t do this kind of thing, Marcus. I don’t sneak away from an important party to let a man—touch me like you did. I don’t jerk that same man off, but you’re so damn gorgeous, and I’ve wanted you for so long, I had to touch you.”

Holy shit.

She leaned in, took his earlobe between her teeth. Marcus dropped his head back—there was no way in hell she could know that was the most sensitive spot on his body, next to the cock she worked like a pro. She cradled his balls with her free hand, bit his earlobe, and he lost control.

He stiffened, then arched off the bench as he came. Leah kept stroking him, stretching out his release, her lips on his throat. By the time she finished milking him, he fought for breath, every inch shaking. She started to release him and he closed his hand over hers.

“Please stay, just a minute longer. You feel so fucking good wrapped around me. I’m not in any condition to do anything except breathe, but I—damn, Leah. You were amazing.”

She stared at him. “You swore. You never swear.”

“Not around you. My mother taught me better.” He laid his forehead against hers. “But it’s the only way to describe just how you made me feel. How you make me feel.”

“Marcus—you’re my boss. We can’t—”

“Let’s deal with that tomorrow. Tonight, you’re my date. My incredible, beautiful, fucking amazing date. Does that scare you?”

“Absolutely.”

He kissed her, moaning when her fingers tightened around his cock.

“We need to get back,” he whispered. All he wanted to do was stay here, wait until he got his stamina back and fill her, feel her hot, wet body surround him as he thrust into her—

Shit. He had to find a way to break his rule without screwing both of them.

“I should be embarrassed.” She looked down at her hand, and he jerked when she stroked him, slowly. “But I only want to do it again. To watch you lose control again, Mr. Bad Boy Hawkins.” She smiled as she threw out his former nickname. “I should be terrified, considering who you are. But I’m not.”

“You should be.” Time to snap them both out of this haze. He pulled her hand off his cock, and tucked himself back into his boxers, redressing as he continued. “The way you look in that gown—I’ve been hard since the second I first saw you. I want to bury myself inside you, fuck you until we both can’t see straight.” When he looked at her again she was pale, her eyes wide, and the length of the bench between them. Good. “Do you understand now what kind of danger you’re in?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

Damn, it tore him apart to treat her like this, but he couldn’t afford attachments—not with her. Not when her just getting him off made him think of long nights loving her, buying a house, buying a ring—

She was even more dangerous than he first thought.

“Here.” He gentled his voice, held out his handkerchief. “Once you clean yourself up, we can head back.” There was no way he’d be able to clean up the thick streaks he’d left on the marble floor. Apologizing silently to the poor janitor who stumbled across the mess, he stood, and waited for her. The spark that had lit her clear blue eyes all night was gone. “Leah—”

“I’m fine, Mr. Hawkins.” She settled the skirt around her legs, and he had a sinking feeling he knew what she was about to say. “You will have my official resignation in the morning, but I am giving you my verbal one right now.” She slapped his hand away. “Don’t touch me. Don’t you even think of touching me again.”

Before he could open his mouth to apologize, to say something to take back his harsh words, she picked up her clutch, pushed to her feet and stalked down the hall, shoulders back, fury in every line of her body.

Too late he remembered her last relationship, and how she’d been rejected.

“Shit.” He ran one hand through his hair and followed her.

In less than a minute he lost his best assistant, and a woman who could have become an important part of his life.

Rage and embarrassment took Leah as far as the main foyer. She halted near a long buffet table, her heart pounding. Marcus’s words hurt—and her impetuous resignation hurt more. She loved her job, loved working for him. But if that was how he treated women who got too close, she wanted nothing to do with him, as a man or an employer.

Leah’s stomach rumbled, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten since breakfast. She didn’t care who was watching; she was going to enjoy this buffet.

She grabbed a plate, and joined the line. The thinly sliced ham called to her, and she answered, piling some on her plate, along with potato salad, Caesar salad, and decadent appetizers. Her plate was overflowing by the time she got halfway down the table. She decided to work on this, then go back and peruse the second half of the buffet.

She turned, looking for a place to sit—and froze when Marcus walked into the main foyer. He scanned the crowd, obviously looking for her. Before she could even think to duck he spotted her and stalked across the foyer. Trapped by the table behind her and people with plates around her, she had nowhere to run. So she clutched the plate and waited for him.

Marcus found Leah near the buffet table, and cursed under his breath. What he wanted to say to her couldn’t be said in the middle of a crowd. He’d have to find a way to get her in a corner, find the words to apologize for what couldn’t be forgiven—

A figure stepped into his path. He jerked to a halt, recognizing her a second too late.

Shit. His worst mistake stood right in front of him.

“Hello, Marcus, darling.” The overtly sexy, accented voice wrapped around her words.

His shoulders stiffened. “Tanya.”