The VIP Room (53 page)

“Who knew that was under all those layers of drab?” Graham held up both hands when Marcus turned on him. “Making an observation, little brother. You’ve already marked your territory. I’ll just watch from the sidelines while you make a fool of yourself over her.”

“Shut up, Graham.”

“That clinches it. No scathing comeback.” He gave Marcus a wicked smile. “All the blood has gone to the little brain.”

Unfortunately his brother was right. That woman was danger on two legs, and Marcus needed to keep as much distance between them as possible, before he started getting ideas.

L
eah slumped
in one of the upholstered chairs, staring at the marble counter. Anywhere but the long mirror that covered one wall. She knew how she’d look—flushed, desperate. Needy.

What was happening to her? She swore to herself that the feelings she had for her untouchable boss would stay locked behind the wall around her heart.

But his surprising generosity unbalanced her, and his reaction to her in the gown still left her—hot.

With a sigh she pushed to her feet and braced herself for her reflection. After him dragging her all over the museum, she knew her almost neat hair had to be a disaster. First look proved her right. Curls escaped from the twist, falling around her face, tumbling down her back. At least her breasts were still inside the halter.

She lifted her hands to her hair and started pulling the pins out.

“Don’t touch it.” The voice had her jerking around. Cassie Deveaux stood next to the door, green eyes appraising. “Your hair is—”

“Out of control?”

“You have no idea, do you? No wonder he’s so—” She cut herself off. “Your hair is lush. Like your figure.” She moved to Leah, circling her like a piece of merchandise. “Did Marcus give you the gown?” Leah nodded. “It looks like one of Fantine’s creations.”

Leah gasped. “Fantine—of Fantine Baroque?”

“They’re old friends. Actually, Fantine was his sister’s friend first. Marcus probably gave her your measurements from memory. He has a good eye. Always did. May I?” She waved at Leah’s hair.

“I guess. Sure.” She sat, not facing the mirror. Cassie couldn’t make it worse—and if she did, the front door was close, and an easy exit. Gentle fingers touched her hair, smoothing, tugging, doing—she didn’t care what. Either way, she decided it was better to leave once Cassie was done. “Why are you doing this?”

“What?”

“Helping me. Being—”

“Nice?” Cassie moved until she faced Leah. “Marcus and I have had fun.” She flashed a smile. “We used to have too much fun at times. But we’re friends now, and a strings-free date when necessary. When he looked at me, in our wilder days, it was with lust. When he looks at you,” she moved out of sight and started tugging again. “I’ve never seen him look at a woman like that. I have to admit, I thought I’d hate the woman he finally saw, really saw as more than a playmate. But you’re so—genuine, I just can’t.” A little more tugging, while Leah absorbed her words. Or tried to—she couldn’t get over that this gorgeous woman admired her. “Okay, and done. Stand up.”

Leah pushed to her feet, took a deep breath, and faced the mirror.

Her mouth dropped open.

Cassie had done something miraculous. Her curls were still all over the place, but instead of looking messy, the style was what Leah always imagined sexy bedhead hair might look on her.

“Oh, God.” She couldn’t face Marcus like this. It screamed sex.

“Don’t be afraid of the way you look. Whatever happens tomorrow, Leah, take advantage of tonight.” Cassie moved behind her. “Take advantage of this.”

“Because I’ll never look this good again?”

“You can look this good, all the time. It just takes desire, and some practice.” She arranged a couple stray curls. “I meant to take advantage because tonight will never happen again. You’ll never be in this place, with this man.”

Leah looked at the woman in the mirror. A woman she didn’t recognize. Maybe that was good. She could be that woman, the woman daring enough to wear this gown, stand up to Marcus Hawkins, take charge of her emotions, her life. Just for one night.

M
arcus waited
for her just outside the door. So, no escaping. Not yet.

She opened her mouth to say something, and froze, startled by the way he studied her. Like he was seeing her for the first time. He ran one hand through his hair, tousling the rare neat style, leaving him even more devastating. His hair always reminded Leah of raven’s wings—so black it had blue highlights. She forced herself to stop staring at his long, graceful fingers, to stop staring at him.

“Damn me,” he whispered. “Screw the rules.” He grabbed her hand, dragging her across the wide, crowded foyer.

Rules? What was he talking about?

She didn’t have time to think about his cryptic statement as he pulled her down an empty hallway, stopping at the far end of a side exhibit. Oh, God—she was alone with him, only the prehistoric dioramas as witnesses.

“Marcus—”

“Finally.” He pinned her to the wall, his hands braced on either side of her, and leaned in until his breath warmed her lips. “I never thought you’d say my name.”

He shocked the breath out of her when he slipped one arm around her waist, hauled her forward and kissed her.

She dropped her clutch and grabbed the lapels of his perfect tux, moaning when his tongue traced the curve of her lower lip before slipping inside and driving her crazy. Her tongue warred with his, her body straining to get closer. She wanted to remember this kiss forever, since she expected him to come to his senses any second now and remember who she was.

Instead he hiked her up and trapped her between his body and the wall, rocking his impressive erection against her. The kiss turned raw, and she arched into him, every inch on fire. God—the things he could do with his mouth. She never wanted the kiss to end.

Her hands freed his lapel and moved up, into his hair, her fingers tangling in the silky length. He growled, and his hand moved—under her gown, sliding up her leg until he gripped her ass. With a gasp she tried to pull out of the kiss, mortified.

“No,” he whispered. “You’re perfect. God, you feel so good.” He held her in place and ground himself against her, his breathing ragged. “I need to touch you, Leah.”

“Marcus—” Another gasp cut her off when his free hand slid between them and cupped her. Even through her lacy thong she felt the heat of his fingers.

“You’re already wet.” He slid his finger over her and she forgot to be embarrassed. “You have no idea how that turns me on.”

She stilled, every inch humming, when his fingers slipped inside her thong and found her hot, wet, throbbing clit. The second he touched her she shuddered, already so close to an orgasm she couldn’t breathe.

“Marcus—”

“I need to see you.” He freed her and lowered her to the floor, dragging her over to a bench set against the far wall, between two of the dioramas. “Sit.” She did, her body clenching in anticipation, and yes, a little fear. This was her boss,
the
Marcus Hawkins, tech genius. She could be fired by the end of the night, so he wouldn’t have to see his biggest mistake every day at the office. “Leah.”

She blinked, and found him on his knees in front of her. “Oh, my God,” she whispered.

“Spread those shapely legs for me.” When she did, holding her breath, he inched the thick velvet skirt up, slowly revealing her. “No stockings. I like that.” He leaned in and kissed the inside of her knee. She almost melted into a puddle right there. An endless minute passed before he finally reached the top of her thighs. “The lacy bit surprises me. Your work attire is so—”

“Boring?”

“Sensible. Plain.”

“Plain Frane,” she whispered. Marcus glanced up at her, surprise on his gorgeous face. “Yes, I know what they call me at the office. I thought—I just wanted to fit in, look serious.”

“You do, Miss Frane. So serious I wanted to make you smile every time you walked into my office.” He caught the edge of her thong, and his fingers dove underneath. She jerked against him when one finger entered her. “I think I’ll make you smile tonight.”

She clutched the edge of the bench when a second finger joined it, and he started to stroke her. Those long, graceful fingers played her with the same finesse she covertly admired when they flew over his keyboard.

“Marcus—oh, God—” She bucked against his hand, needing to feel him deeper. He seemed to read her mind, and thrust up, hard and fast. She let go of the bench and dug her fingers into his shoulders, doing something she never thought she’d do—she watched him as he stroked her. Seeing his fingers, wet from her, slide in and out, was so incredibly arousing. She wanted—she wanted it to be his cock, deep inside her, filling her, hot and throbbing. “Marcus—”

He moved faster and her head dropped back, her body tightening around his fingers. God, she was so close.

“Look at me, Leah.” His deep voice was raw, and rougher than she’d ever heard it. “I want to see you fall apart.”

She throbbed, the pressure coiling, hot and tight. If he touched her clit she was done for. Again, he read her mind, and his thumb rubbed over her clit.

“Marcus—yes—oh, God—”

She shuddered, thrusting against his hand as she started to climax. He pressed deep, curled his fingers up inside her and she exploded.

Marcus spread his hand across her back and kept stroking her. He stretched her pleasure out, his fingers driving into her, his breath hot on her skin as he watched his hand work her. Slowly, she came down, her body still twitching, his fingers still inside her, like he couldn’t stand the thought of letting her go.

“Leah.” He kissed her, the hand on her back shaking as he caressed her bare skin. “You were beautiful. God help me—you are so beautiful.”

His ragged voice had her already pounding heart slamming against her ribs.

H
e 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.

“God—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.