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“Look at me,” he ordered. “Look at me like you made me look at you.”
My eyes popped open and his brow was furrowed with concentration but his eyes were focused on my face.
“I’m coming,” I whimpered, and my orgasm hit me like a truck, taking over my whole body while he continued to move inside me.
Roarke groaned. “You’re clenching so tight around me, sweetheart, you feel like heaven.”
The praise was almost too much, made my heart do jumping jacks in my chest, but I loved it, rocking my hips up to meet his thrusts. I was going to come again, and fast, especially if he sped up his strokes. Like he was reading my mind, he sped up, fucking me harder and faster and I was vaulted into my second orgasm almost immediately, nearly screaming out his name.
“That’s right, sweetheart,” he crooned. “Come for me again.”
When Roarke said that, my body clenched all over again, and I was almost afraid I was going to come a third time, that it would be too much, and I was so close when he spilled inside me that I was clenching around him all over again.
I took in a deep breath, happy that he’d come inside me, my whole body warm from my orgasms and the intimacy of the sex. I was afraid, suddenly, that he’d roll off me, ask me to go home, panic rising in me, but he didn’t. Roarke slowly pulled out of me and cupped my pussy with one hand, as if to keep his come inside.
It was a possessive move that made me feel hot all over, still clenching inside from the aftershocks of my orgasm.
He finally moved his hand and lay next to me, seeing goosebumps all over my skin and kissing them in a line across my shoulders before pulling the duvet up around us.
“Magda,” he said. “You were perfect.”
At that moment, Ifeltperfect. Felt sated and happy, and I wished that this moment could last forever.
ROARKE
I wokeup with a blinding headache and Magda’s thin arm wrapped around my waist and tried to remember what happened the night before. I’d drank way too much whiskey, opening up an old bottle that Richard had gotten me for my birthday the year before.
I hadn’t been able to handle the idea of Magda going out with Mark Windham, letting him kiss her, maybe taking her to bed… the idea of it made me feel nauseous.
I fucking liked her. I liked her way too much to be professional about this, and now that I was awake, I realized that I’d called her, made love to her, kissed her and touched her in all the ways I’d wanted to.
Goddamnit.
I’d fucked up. What was I supposed to do now? Now that I had the memory of her quaking under me, her lips on my throat when she moaned my name.
Now, how was I supposed to forget her?
I wriggled out from under her arm and sniffed myself. Ugh. I smelled like whiskey and Magda, and I needed a shower badly. I’d go to the gym and shower there, not wanting to see her bright blue eyes when she woke up, her dark, blue-black hair sticking up from the sex the night before. It would be so easy to fall deeper and deeper in love if I saw her like that.
I set out a T-shirt for her to wear since I’d ruined her blouse and thought about leaving a note. In the end, all I wrote wasThe door locks automatically. -R
It wasn’t much of a note, but it was something. I couldn’t think of anything else to say that wouldn’t imply how much I’d enjoyed the night before, and I knew now what I had to do: I had to break things off. I’d been in this situation before.
Three times, to be exact. And contrary to popular belief, it had not been the charm.
It wasn’t like I didn’t want to settle down, I’d tried, but I was still too raw from what had happened in my two previous marriages. Too afraid of what came later. Hell, my first wife and I were married for five years and though she hadn’t cheated on me, that still hadn’t worked out. How was I supposed to believe that Magda would be any different? She wouldn’t. She was too young, too bratty. And she could do better than me.
Hell, she’d just been out on a date, for god’s sake, and this was the way I was acting about it. I’d already lost my marbles, drinking too much thinking of how someone might be taking her home. There was no way I could do this. I had to stop it, and now.
So I just left her there, slowly shutting my door so that it wouldn’t wake her.
I got to the office early, which wasn’t unusual for me.
I was able to get absolutely no work done, looking at the elevator doors and waiting for Magda to arrive. Finally, I shut my door and drew my blinds, hoping that I could focus. I managed to fill out some paperwork that had been piling up and check my emails, and do a couple of hours of work before I couldn’t take it anymore.
I had to see her. I couldn’t just blow her off and not tell her that I was cutting things off. It wasn’t fair to her or our working relationship. It definitely wasn’t that I wanted to see her and see her reaction. Absolutely not.
I walked to her office door, taking in a breath and hoping she was dressed conservatively so I could do this instead of bending her over the nearest available surface.
