On the Job (5 page)

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Authors: Beth Kery

BOOK: On the Job
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“Look at that sunset, Walker. You can't tell me you had anything like that in Washington, DC,” Tony said as Alessandro served their salads. He nodded toward the floor-to-ceiling panes of glass and the spectacular vision of the sun sinking behind the mountains, sending shards of gold-and-crimson light into the deep blue mirror of the lake.
Madeline barely heard him. Two long fingers had just dipped beneath her panties and slid between her labia. She shivered at the sensation of the hard ridge of his forefinger pressing firmly against her clit. She resisted an urge to press her chilled water glass against her cheek.
“No,” Walker admitted gruffly. “It was always hard to surpass the memories of Tahoe. Everything I saw, everything I experienced, since then came up short.”
Madeline gasped. Thankfully, the Margraves had turned, joining Tony and Walker in their appreciation of the sun sinking behind the distant mountains. They didn't notice her reaction as Walker began to subtly vibrate his finger against her clit, agitating the hungry flesh until it sizzled.
“Aren't you hungry, Maddie?” Tony asked a moment later when everyone started on their salads and Madeline just continued to stare blankly out the window.
“Of course. It looks delicious,” she murmured as she picked up the heavy silver salad fork. Later, she wouldn't have been able to say what she'd put into her mouth. It might have been pickled fish heads, for all she knew. Every cell in her entire body seemed to have pitched into an alert focus of the weight of Walker's hand, the movements of his finger, the almost electrical pulse of energy that seemed to pass directly from his flesh into her own.
Tony patted her left hand. “I know having someone take a shot at you must have sent you into a tailspin. You haven't been yourself all day. Even though it happened on Tuesday, the shock of it doesn't seem to have fully settled until now.”
Madeline blinked and pulled her hand out from under Tony's. It seemed wrong, somehow, like trying to breathe underwater, to have Tony touch her while Walker did.
“I'm not worried, Tony. Please don't
worry
about me being worried. It'll get us nowhere.”
They launched into a topic Madeline had been avoiding for forty-eight hours now.
“I don't suppose the Carnelian Bay police have done much to uncover any leads about the shooting?” Hal asked.
“There isn't any Carnelian Bay police,” Walker replied. She yanked her gaze off Walker's small, sexy smile with effort. He continued to stir her juices as he spoke; his movements tiny, but incendiary. Her breath had started to come jagged and shallow. At first she thought it was panic until she realized it was excitement. She'd never been sexually stimulated in public. The combination was bizarre and intimidating. “Carnelian Bay is unincorporated,” Walker continued. “Some boys from the Truckee police department came to investigate the shooting. I drove to Truckee last night after Tony called me. The shot came from a Ramo M600 fifty-caliber rifle. Russian.”
A puff of air flew past her lips when Walker's finger paused. She glanced over at him and saw he stared at Tony. Tony took a large gulp of his wine, his face unusually stiff and sober.
“Russian?” Hal exclaimed as he scraped his salad plate. “Do you suppose that means anything, Walker?”
“It means someone seriously has it out for Madeline. That's a professional sniper rifle.”
“And the fact that it was Russian? Is that significant?” Kitty asked, looking concerned as she glanced at Madeline.
“Nonsense,” Madeline blurted out. “There's nothing significant about any of this. The guy who took a potshot at me couldn't have been much of a
professional
. He missed by a mile.” Despite Madeline's scathing tone—she was sick of the ridiculous topic of a conspiracy against her life—Madeline subtly pressed up with her hips against the weight of Walker's hand. If they weren't careful, the sounds of him moving in her wet pussy would soon become audible. That was how aroused she'd become.
“That is strange,” Walker mused as he idly watched Alessandro start to clear the table. The scent of broiled salmon tickled at Madeline's nose, as if all the senses of her body had gone on hyperalert because of Walker's hand in her lap. He diddled at her clit, his actions striking her as tight and focused and casual at once, as if it were the most normal thing in the world for him to manually stimulate her during a small supper party.
“What do you mean?” Tony asked Walker. Madeline noticed Tony looked flushed and guiltily wondered if her own cheeks were pink as well.
“It seems unlikely, that's all,” Walker said. “The shooter had purchased some high-tech equipment. He'd chosen his spot well. Everything about the incident screams of a professional hit if it weren't for the fact that he missed so drastically.”
“A warning, perhaps?” Hal asked shrewdly. “You haven't sold any billionaires a money pit of a house lately, have you Maddie?” He picked up his fork and skewered a new potato covered in a delicate white wine and dill sauce.
“I should be the one seeking revenge on my clients given the steals they've been getting in this economy,” Madeline murmured wryly. Thankfully, Kitty changed the subject. Madeline was highly conscious of Walker cutting into his seared salmon, of him sliding his fork between his lips, of the movement of his jaw. She thought the meal would taste like cardboard, but instead flavor burst on her tongue as she ate. It appeared that being sexually stimulated really did awaken all the senses of the body.
As the seconds ticked by and Walker continued relentlessly, anxiety mixed more acutely with her arousal. Her cheeks grew hot. The soles of her feet tingled in her high-heeled sandals. Her clit burned beneath Walker's finger. The friction was delicious.
She was going to come.
“Excuse me,” she said breathlessly.
Walker's hand fell out of her lap when she moved her chair back. She stood jerkily. Alessandro, who had been in the process of clearing their meal, steadied her as she rose.
“You okay, Maddie?” Tony asked. He must have noticed her shaky voice and stance.
“I'm fine. Maybe a little too much wine. I'll . . . I'll join you all in a bit if I feel better,” she said. She swept out of the room.
Before she reached the hallway, she heard Tony say in a low, confidential tone, “She's more upset about this shooting business than she's letting on.”
Madeline hurried into a large powder room and shut the door. She was in the outer alcove of the bathroom, a grooming area where a lady could sit at the marble-topped vanity and comb her hair or freshen her makeup. Her breathing was coming erratic and choppy. Her clit throbbed. It was very damp between her thighs. She glanced at her reflection in the mirror. Her cheeks were bright pink and her eyes had the glassy sheen of sexual arousal.
How dare he humiliate her like that in public?
She placed one hand on her pussy and winced at the pressure. She was in the process of lifting the hem of her dress when the door opened and Walker stepped into the bathroom.
Madeline stared at him as he closed and locked the door. He looked shockingly real to her in that bizarre moment, all sleek brawn and tawny male glory. His skin had turned a darker shade of toasty brown, making his eyes look even more electrically blue-green in contrast. The whiskers on his lean jaw were brown with just a hint of gold. Even in her heels, he towered over her in the small room.
He glanced down significantly at her dress bunched in her fist. He stepped toward her. “I'll be finishing that.”
Anger and arousal swept through her with a wave of heat. “You don't know how to finish anything you start.”
“I'll apologize later if you like,” he said through a stiff jaw. “I'll beg for your forgiveness for leaving, and for the fact that I wasn't here when your dad passed. I'll make it up to you. I don't care how long it takes. But the time for apologies isn't
now
, Madeline.”
He grabbed a handful of her dress. Her pussy twanged in anticipation, but she jerked down on the fabric in protest.
“You're going to rip this dress,” she said in accusation, staring up at him.
“Only if you make me,” he muttered. He leaned down and covered her mouth. Her head swam. It was more of an attack than a kiss. Sensation—heat, pressure, his taste, pleasure, hunger—hit her like a slap to the face. After a disoriented moment, she kissed him back, her voraciousness nearly equaling his. Their tongues dueled angrily. She went up on her tiptoes. She placed a hand on the back of his neck and aggressively pulled him closer. He pulled up on her dress, but for some stupid reason, she resisted again, their silent battle of wills ramping up her desire instead of diminishing it.
After a moment of struggling while they ate each other like they were starving, Walker growled in frustration into her mouth. He lifted his head an inch from her face. She cried out in surprise when he grabbed her hands and pushed them to the small of her back. She'd been taken so off guard by his actions, she didn't have time to struggle. He bound her wrists with one hand and shucked her dress up to her hips with the other.
“Don't you dare ever walk away from me again when I'm touching you,” he breathed out against her lips. She gasped when his fingers plunged beneath her thong and he stroked her again. This time his whole arm moved as he stimulated her hard and ruthlessly. It felt wickedly good. He tightened his hold on her wrists, forcing her to arch slightly. She stumbled a little, off balance. One of her breasts pressed against his ribs. She moaned and dipped her knees an inch before she straightened, getting friction on her nipple. “Do you hear me, Madeline?”
“I couldn't come in front of everyone,” she mumbled. She ground her pussy against his hand. She felt so hot. She was going to light up like a crate of fireworks.
“You could have. You just refused,” he muttered, his voice no longer edged with anger. “But you'll come for me now. Go on, beautiful,” he ordered as he plucked at her upturned lips with his mouth and played her clit with forceful finesse. “You're juicier than a man's best wet dream. I'm going to fuck that juicy little pussy as soon as I watch you come.”
His grim, sensual threat finished her. She winced as climax jolted through her, hot and electric. She gave in to it, thrusting her pelvis against his hand, grinding against him, greedy for each blast of bliss that shook her flesh. He watched her while she came. Before she was entirely finished, he placed his hands on her hips.
“Bend over,” he demanded as he turned her, her back to his front.
“Walker . . . this is crazy,” she mumbled. “We can't.”
“We will.”
They stood in front of an antique vanity and mirror. She saw his blazing eyes in the reflection. She slowly bent over, her gaze glued to his. He flung her dress up to her waist and jerked her thong down so that it fell around the ankle straps of her sandals. This was madness. Utter insanity. She realized she wasn't sure what the others thought the two of them were doing. Did they know they were both inside this bathroom together engaging in a sexual frenzy?
She watched Walker tearing at his button fly and realized she didn't care.
He reached into his back pocket before he yanked his jeans off his hips. It should have pleased her that he rolled on the condom, but instead it highlighted the fact that she'd been about to let him come fuck her naked once again. He spread one hand over a bare ass cheek and glanced up, meeting her gaze in the mirror.
“I came in you earlier. I left my mark. You make sure Tony stays away from my territory.”
Her mouth dropped open. She couldn't believe he'd said that, let alone said it with such fury. There were depths to Walker's boldness she hadn't fully comprehended.
“Do you understand, Madeline?” he asked. In the reflection, she saw that his other hand was between his legs. He was holding his cock in readiness for penetration.
“Tell me you're not going to let him touch you,” he grated out.
She grasped for the remnants of her self-respect—difficult to do when bent over a vanity with one's dress around their waist and ass in the air. She felt cornered, trapped between her pride and her desire.
“I'll promise you no such thing,” she hissed.
For a few seconds he didn't move, and Madeline knew misery. Then he stepped closer, and she felt the tip of his hard erection pressing against her slit, stretching her delicate tissues. She gasped. Loudly. He placed both his hands on her buttocks. He lifted and parted her, forcing her to make room in her body for his presence. They stared at each other in the mirror as he applied a firm pressure and slid into her inch by inch. Her gaze remained defiant, but her body betrayed her in the way she melted around his teeming cock.
“Your pussy is mine. If you need to learn that the hard way, so be it,” he muttered. He thrust, his jaw clamped tight. Madeline panted, her mouth hanging open, at the sensation of him encased and throbbing deep in her flesh. He flexed back and his length slid out of her. She bit her already cut lip to stop herself from screaming when he plunged his cock back into her and his pelvis smacked against her ass. She keened inside her tightly sealed mouth, but he was already withdrawing and hammering into her again. Walker was a strong man, and his cock was as big as the rest of him. It thrilled her somehow, the difference in their sizes. She couldn't help but be proud of her ability to take him so well when he took her so hard. Her position left her little protection. Her body was his to take, and take it he did. She tried to hold herself upright as he fucked her with powerful strokes, but it was like trying to remain motionless during a battering storm.

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