Threat (30 page)

“Can I see you in my office?” she
says to me, beckoning me with a finger.

Edgar and Juan glance at each other and then
back away, but I just shrug.

“What, are you going to do? Punish me?”

She cocks her head and purses her lips. “Now,”
she commands, before slipping back into her office.

Oh boy, she's gonna get it.

I follow her inside and close the door behind
me.

“We have a bit of a problem,” she
says as she reclines in her high backed office chair.

“Oh yeah? And what would that be?”

She points up at the clock on the wall. It's
one of those metal ones with no numbers on it, only hands. I don't
know how the hell she tells time on that thing. “The event is
starting and you still have the guys moving furniture.”

“The event doesn't start for thirty more
minutes.”

She scoffs. “You've had those two moving
the same sofa for longer than that. They haven't even put the food
out or let the DJ in to set up.”

“Excuse me, but I take pride in the
things I do.” Better late than ugly, as I always say. Who shows
up to a fucking party on time anyways?

“No, you're stalling.”

“And just why would I do that?”

“Because you're nervous.”

Her assessment catches me off guard. “Oh
yeah? About what?”

“About the opening.”

I shake my head. “Bullshit. I don't get
fucking nervous.”

She rolls her eyes. “Everyone gets
nervous, David. It's normal and it's healthy.”

“I'm not nervous about a damn thing,”
I say. I'm also a damn good liar

“What if I told you there's already line
of people waiting outside?”

My eyes narrow and I study hers for a split
second. “I'd say you were shittin' me.”

“Do you really think I'd do that to you?
I was just out there ten minutes ago and the line was wrapped around
the side of the building.”

Sheesh. “If that was supposed to make me
feel less pressured, it didn't work.”

She kicks her feet up on her desk, crossing
them at the ankle. “You better hurry the fuck up and relax
then, huh?”

My brows shoot up. Boy, she has a mouth on her
these days. I've been a bad influence on her in the best kind of way.

“Oh yeah?” I stalk across the room,
her confident facade crumbling the closer I get. When I'm nearly on
top of her, I lean in and grip the arm rests of her chair, fencing
her in like a little lost puppy. Her amber eyes round and my own gaze
drops down to her chest—God I love the way her breathing still
deepens whenever I draw near. “What makes you think you can
tell me what to do?” I hiss.

Her fingers tighten around the seam of her
fitted pencil skirt. “I'm your boss. It's my job, remember?”
I
chuckle. “We're partners. But if anything, I'm
your
boss. Where would this place be without me?”

“You're still a cocky asshole, aren't
you?” she says, her pouty lips curling into a coy smile. Good
God, when she looks at me like that, it does things to me. Which in
turn makes me want to do things to her.

“You're still a smart ass, aren't you?”
I whisper back, and capture her mouth with mine before she can
respond. Her quick whimper turns into a soft sigh as my lips move
against hers. I let my fingers brush against the crook of her neck,
and slide around to her nape so I can pull her closer into me. The
old Leah would have stopped me right there, pushed me away and told
me we have to get ready for the grand opening of my tattoo shop—
our
tattoo shop—that's less than a half hour away. But this Leah
clutches the front of my shirt and holds me close. She accepts my
tongue with a longing moan when I push past her lips. And she laps it
up like she'll starve without every last drop.

I guess some things do change.

“Open your fucking legs,” I growl
into her mouth. She hesitates, but doesn't object when I help her out
by lifting her one leg from the table and stepping between them.

“David,” she murmurs, as my hand
snakes over her thigh, landing in the crevice between her legs. All I
feel is flesh—her heated, wet flesh, and not an ounce of
fabric. She isn't wearing any fucking panties—my cock twitches
in my jeans at the discovery. And yet, she had her legs kicked up on
the desk, like I wouldn't notice. Dirty fucking girl.

“Is this for me?” I ask, my eyes
locked with hers as I slip my finger between her lips. Her hips are
already bucking against me, her tits strain against her white button
down blouse, her nipples tenting the crisp fabric. All I can think
about is popping those damn buttons open and sucking on them, biting
them and hearing her moan. She tries so hard to look fucking
professional in those fucking conservative clothes, with her hair all
done up in a bun, but she still looks like pure sex to me. Especially
the way that skirt hugs her hips and ass—does she know what
that kind of thing does to a man?

I slide my fingers over her slit and press
inside her with one. She lets out a muffled cry and grabs me, her
tiny hand covering the ink on my forearm. With the heel of my palm
pressing against her clit, I crook my finger inside her and watch her
mouth silently fall open, sucking in a gasp of air. That's a damn
invitation if I ever saw one.

I crane down and nibble on her bottom lip, then
suckle the sweet, ripe flesh into my mouth. She's wearing that
strawberry flavored gloss that drives me wild. It makes me want to
taste every other part of her body…

“Hmm? I asked you a question. And you
best answer me,” I say to her, knowing good and well she can't
focus on anything right now.

She swallows hard, panting as she squirms
against my touch. “You already know it is.”

I press deeper inside, slipping in another
finger. Her tight walls only constrict around me as I move inside her
in a pulsating rhythm. “
Only
for me?”

She nods, biting her own lip this time. Tiny
beads of sweat form across her brow.

“Then say it.”

“O-only for you, David.”

I grin—right answer. I watch her body
arch with pleasure as I press harder against her, my fingers moving
more rapidly within her. Finally, I let her come all over my fingers.
I should let her suffer after the way she mouthed off, but watching
her release in my arms is almost as addictive as being inside her.

“Don't you ever fucking forget it.”

I take my hand away and leave her breathless
and slumped against her chair. She gives me that look and doesn't
even close her damn legs. Maybe I am making her suffer, after all.

“I would rip every single one of those
buttons open if we had the time,” I say.

She smiles. “I have another blouse in the
car.”

Shit.
I
hesitate.
Do
the right thing, David.

She kicks off her heel and presses her foot
right against my cock. Shit. “So you'd rather go to a party
than fuck me?” she purrs, her brow arched high upon her
forehead.

What party?

I grab her, hoisting her out of her chair with
yelp. I slide back on to her desk, probably crumpling important
documents and knocking God knows what off it, but who cares? I pull
her on to me and push her skirt up to her hips, letting her
straddling me with her ass right on top of my hardness. Fuck.

She feels so good against me, but I pause for a
moment, running my fingers over that special spot on her hip. I can't
see it but I know it's there—the small, tasteful, and detailed
red ribbon, in the shape of an infinity symbol. And on ribbon is the
word “mine”. I wasn't sure how she would react to it when
she first saw it, I still remember how my stomach tangled up in knots
as she removed the bandage, after hours of her prodding me to tell
her what the tattoo said. And I still remember how her eyes silently
softened when they fell upon it. When she looked back up at me, she
knew it was true—she was mine, and I was hers.

It's the only bit of ink she ever let me put on
her, and the only ink she needs.

Just thinking about the way I claimed her so
many years ago, in permanent ink, only makes me want her more. She
purposely rolls her hips in my lap, grinding her body against me like
she's already riding me. She's such a fucking tease. And even through
layers of clothes she makes me hard enough to shatter.

I pull her closer to me, her tits smashed
against my chest. I kiss her hard, my lips crushing hers before she
reaches for my t-shirt and rips it right up over my head. She kisses
me back, just as rough, cupping my face and gripping at my hair. I
break the kiss, only to do exactly what I promised and rip that God
damned blouse in two. She's wearing this cute little lacy pink bra,
but I only care about what's underneath. I pull the straps down, and
then her breast out of the cup, massaging her malleable flesh in my
hand. I brush my lips against her nipple and circle my tongue around
it's peak, her desperate moans ringing in my ear as I suck her deeper
into my mouth.

“Fuck...David…” she calls
out between ragged breaths. She pulls back and reaches between us,
fumbling with the buttons on my jeans. I shift beneath her and pull
them off my hips. Her hand is quick, darting beneath the fabric of my
underwear, and wrapping around my stiff cock. She starts to stroke my
length and runs her thumb over my slit. It feels like heaven, but for
some dumbass reason, I stop her.

“Uh uh, none of that,” I say as I
swat her hand away. As much as I love her touch, being inside her is
pure ecstasy.

I lift her hips and then lower her on to my
cock. She's so slick that pushing into her tightness is easy. “Ride
me, baby,” I say, slapping her ass hard and then groping her
cheeks, pulling our bodies together as I plow into her from below.
She rocks against me like a wave. Our voices fill the room with
grunts and moans. She paws at me, running her hands over my arms,
gripping my shoulders, and eventually resting on my back. I kiss the
silky skin on her neck, holding her tight against my body as I pump
even harder into her cave. My dick is hungry, twitching and jerking
inside the warmth of her cocoon. I crave every single inch of her so
bad, it's like a fucking drug.

“David...I'm gonna….uh,” Her
head tilts back and she wails as she floods around me. I run my
tongue over her throat, my fingers digging into her flesh as I come
right after her. She slumps in my arms like a rag doll, clutching my
hair and planting tiny kisses along my brow.

“I fucking love you, you know that?”
she mumbles against my skin.

I look up into her eyes, darkened by her
enlarged pupils, but somehow still glittering in the light. “Are
you sure about that?” I ask.

She chuckles as her breathing slowly evens, and
swats my shoulder. “Don't be silly,” she says. She tries
to climb off me but I pull her back into place. Her smile fades a
little when she sees the serious look on my face.

I take her chin between my two fingers. “I
mean it. Are you sure you love me?”

She blinks rapidly, her brows knitting
together. “Is everything okay?”

I nod slowly without averting my gaze. “Fucking
dandy.”

A hesitant smile plays at the corner of her
mouth. She takes my face in her hand, holding it like she has the
worlds rarest treasure in her clutches.

Five fucking years and she still looks at me
like that. She moved in with me at the start of her sophomore year.
It took her the entire summer before that to agree to finally tell
our parents. Hell, she wanted to wait longer but it was hard to hide
it after two and half months of sneaking on to her father's boat
alone. My mom was happy for us, but it took Colin a bit longer to
warm up to the idea. He warmed up to the idea eventually, and even
promised to help us start this place after Leah changed her major to
marketing and public relations that year. I always knew I would never
take him up on that offer, and I never did, but the gesture alone
meant the world to me.

Five years together and she still has the hots
for me. Not only the hots, but she still claims to love me too. I
knew I'd love her forever, but I only wondered if anyone could ever
do the same for me.

She brings her forehead down against mine. “I
don't think I'll ever stop,” she whispers. She kisses my lips
softly again. That's good enough for me.

She ruffles my hair before sliding off me and
moving to collect her clothing from the floor. I stand to pull up my
jeans, but I mostly keep my eyes on her.

“What are you going to do about your
shirt?” I ask. She pulls it up from the ground and observes
it—yet, it's missing more than one button, as I expected. It
wouldn't be the first time I ruined one of her tops.

“I keep a spare in the car,” she
replies. “Good thing, huh?”

I shrug. “I dunno. I kinda prefer you
naked.”

With a giggle she drops her face into her hand.
“I don't think our guests would appreciate that.”