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The hard thrust lodged him deep, forcing her body to bow back, arch upwards. She groaned, sobbed, the penetration too full, too sudden. Gripping her hip, he delved between them, finding her clitoris. Exposing the swollen nub, he began to move, the strokes forcing him deeper still as he caressed her core. She powered over that brutal edge with shocking speed, the loss of control a maelstrom of emotion as she buried her head in his neck, clung to broad shoulders.
He shouted out his own release, still seated deep.
The rasps of their breathing sounded like the roar of cannon fire in the silent solemnity of his office. A shame far greater than any she could ever have imagined settled over her as the musty scent of sex and the discomfort of the still firm erection pulsed inside her.
Tears welled, slid down her cheeks as emotion crushed her chest and her fingers fisted in the short dark hair.
How could something that had seemed so pure, so perfect a second before, suddenly be so sordid? She sat even now on his desk, her skirt bunched around her waist, her legs wrapped around his hips. Nausea churned at the thought of how wrong she’d been.
Was this how her mother had felt, when she’d betrayed her father?
In her desperation to make Cal love her, she’d proved exactly the opposite. That sex was all they had ever really shared.
Blinking furiously, scrubbing the tears away with the heel of her hand before he spotted them, she pushed at his shoulder. ‘I have to go.’
He lifted his head, caressed her hips, his pupils still black with arousal. ‘I’m sorry. That didn’t have a lot of finesse. Are you okay?’
‘You need to move, so I can leave,’ she said, unable to process what he was saying, hysteria racing back to the surface. The last thing she needed now was for him to be kind.
He pulled out of her and she scrambled up, all too aware of the sticky residue, the torn knickers as she clambered off the desk, brushed her skirt down, and swallowed the gulping sobs that threatened to spill out before she got away from him.
She made a beeline for the door, hearing the rasp of his zipper as he righted his own clothing. ‘I’ll see you around, Cal.’
‘Wait just a damn minute.’ He grabbed her as she reached the door, held on as she struggled.
She bit into her lip to stop it trembling. ‘I need to go. I’m busy.’
‘You’re not going anywhere. We need to talk about what just happened. And where we go from here.’
‘I’m fine. And we don’t need to talk.’ She’d rather die than talk about what they’d just done. ‘Because it’s over. There’s nowhere to go from here.’ He wanted to offer her crumbs when what she wanted was the banquet.
His eyes raked over her face. ‘You’re not fine. We do need to talk. And don’t tell me we’ve got nowhere to go when we just proved this is a long way from being over.’
The phone on the desk buzzed.
‘Damn it.’ Keeping his grip on her with one hand, he grabbed the receiver with the other.
After a brief conversation, he slammed the phone back in its cradle. ‘I’ve got to go. I have to be in court in ten minutes. But you’re staying here. I’ll tell Terry to send up some coffee, tea, whatever you want. This’ll take fifteen minutes, twenty tops—it’s only a request for an adjournment. When I get back we’re going to have that talk.’
From the rigid expression on his face, she could tell arguing would be futile—and she didn’t have the strength to do it anyway. ‘I can’t wait long.’
His brow creased. ‘I mean it, Ruby. I expect you to be here when I get back.’
She nodded. ‘I know.’
He would expect it, she thought as he left the room. Because he had spent his entire life making sure his emotions never derailed his common sense.
Unfortunately, she now knew she was nowhere near as smart.
She scribbled a quick note and placed it on the desk—the same desk where she had offered him her heart and he hadn’t even realised—and then followed him out of the door, five minutes later.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
THE pulsating salsa beat energised Ruby’s limbs as she let her friend Dan twirl her round in a practiced move, but couldn’t penetrate the numbness that had settled over her ever since her crying jag that afternoon. The picture of Cal the last time she’d seen him came blasting back into her mind and she took a misstep. Her hip collided with Dan’s and he stopped.
‘Damn it Rube, you’re ruining my rep as the best salsanista in Camden.’
‘Sorry, Dan. I’m a bit off tonight,’ she shouted above the clamour of dancing couples and loud music, the headache banding around her temple.
