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It took me a few seconds, and Nate stood impatiently, glancing at his watch. Instead of sitting, I was leaning over my desk to type on the computer. I felt a hand grazing my backside and looked up to see Nate innocently turn away.
I grinned. It was going to be like that, was it? I straightened, reaching for my purse. “I’m ready.”
He walked me to the elevator, and we rode down in silence. I glanced over at him, my entire body aching to wrap itself around his. I could hit the emergency button to stop the ride and undo the tie from around his neck. We could relieve the pressure right there in the elevator. I knew he wanted to. Yet he studied the corner of the box, ignoring me completely.
I wasn’t fooled. I could see the tension running through him. Every breath was shallow, every blink of his eye disguising his lust. When the elevator doors opened onto the parking garage, he walked out, pretending not to notice me. I followed assertively, just a fellow co-worker going to the same car.
He clicked the doors open and got into the driver’s seat. I walked around to the passenger seat and climbed inside. We closed the doors and looked at each other finally. He was grinning so wide; I thought the smile would break through his cheeks. Without waiting any longer, he reached across the divide, pulling me close.
Our lips met and the space between us dissolved. We became one, the beating of our hearts synchronized, the heat of our tongues intertwined. I lost myself in the kiss. The hard plastic of the parking brake faded away, replaced by the soft insistence of his hand.
I wanted to climb over the obstacles between us and come to rest in his lap. I wanted to take his head in both hands and feel the softness of his close-cropped hair. I wanted to loosen the tie around his neck, undo the buttons on his shirt and reveal his handsome chest. But we were still in the parking garage. If anybody wanted to leave at that exact moment, they would see Mr. Brockman with his secretary making out in his car.
I pulled back. “Drive,” I rasped, desperate to get somewhere safe.
I didn’t have to tell him twice. “Buckle up.”
I pulled at the seat belt, clicking it into place. We sped away, leaving the office in the rear-view mirror. It took about fifteen minutes to reach Nate’s neighborhood. We drove through the gate and up to his driveway. Getting out of the car, I held myself in check. To all appearances, we were just an average couple, walking up to our front porch after a long day at work.
But as soon as the door closed behind us, and we were safe from prying eyes, all bets were off. I wrapped my arms around him, eager to bring him as close as physically possible. He had the same idea, pressing me up against the back of the door. He cupped my jaw with both hands, helping himself to my lips.
We kissed again and again, never settling, never quenching our thirst. I reached for his tie, nimbly undoing the knot and pulling the thing loose. It fluttered to the floor, leaving his neck open for exploration.
He slipped a hand underneath my purse strap, depriving me of its weight. Setting the bag down on the credenza, he began undressing me. First it was my shoes. One by one, he helped me out of them, returning to my mouth a moment later. I was significantly shorter without my heels, and I had to tilt my head up to succumb to his kisses.
Next, he moved on to my dress, pushing the fabric off one shoulder so that he could access my skin. I countered his play by undoing his top button. Suddenly, I could see his Adam’s apple, and the stubble from the razor that morning.
I left his mouth to kiss along his jaw line. Using my tongue, I explored the ridges and valleys of his neck. He was hot and growing hotter. I tasted aftershave and sweat, a combination that was intoxicating. He grew tired of focusing on a single shoulder, and reached down to grab a fistful of my skirt.
Peeling it up and over my head, he divested me of the only garment I wore. Tossing it over the sofa, he was careful not to hurt the fabric. So contentious, even in the throes of passion, I marveled at his self-restraint. I wanted to rip his shirt, to pop the buttons at his waist and shove his pants to the ground. Yet he was one step ahead of me, revealing my body before I could get my hands on him.
He picked me up, carrying me back to the guest bedroom. I wondered why we didn’t go to his room, but realized there were probably stairs involved. The guest room was the closest mattress available and in his haste, he didn’t consider anything else.
He laid me down, gentle and yet provocative. I reached up to gather him into my arms. This was everything I wanted and nothing I had expected. The previous night I lay awake in this very same bed, wondering if I would ever touch him again. It seems I had my answer.
He kicked off his shoes, joining me atop the mattress. I slid over to allow him room, turning toward him at the same time. He leaned over me, lowering his lips to mine. The kiss was soft and mysterious, just the tip of the iceberg with a mountain underneath.
I reached for the hem of his shirt, eager to dispense with the intrusive fabric. Pulling it up over his back, it reached only so far before getting caught on his ever-widening chest. He leaned back, undoing the buttons that held the thing in place. Ducking out of the attire, he dropped it onto the floor. It seemed that he had far less respect for his own clothes than he had for mine.
Excited, I pulled him back to me, sliding my hands up and down his spine. His form was a stroke of genius, a masterpiece that only I was privy to. It felt dangerous, even illicit, to allow myself the pleasure of his company. I was supposed to be hiding out. I was supposed to be afraid. And yet neither of those things were true.
I was there in the blessed moment, enjoying myself and allowing Nate to enjoy me as well. He sealed our kiss, dipping his head low to capture my earlobe. It was the most erotic thing I had ever experienced. The way he sucked on my flesh, turning it over underneath his tongue. Lightning bolts of pleasure shot through me, and I ached for more.
Sliding my arm around his shoulder, I hung on for dear life. He was on top of me, pressing me down into the mattress. I spread my legs, hungry for his love. After a heated moment, he left my ear and moved down my neck to my collar bone.
I ran my fingers through his hair, alight with curiosity. What new sensation would he introduce me to next? He seemed to be quite knowledgeable in the bedroom. I didn’t want to think about all the women who preceded me, or anyone who might come after. For the time being, it was just me and Nate, alone and on fire.
I smoothed my fingers along the yolk of his shoulders, feeling the fine bone and muscle structure as they worked. He sucked a circle of skin into his mouth, and I nearly drowned from the pleasure. I knew that would leave a mark, and that I would have to hide it, but I didn’t care.
He slid my bra straps down my arms, reaching behind me to undo the clasp. Freeing my breasts, he dangled the bra over the side of the bed, dropping it to gather dust along with his shirt. He took a moment to examine me, as if I were a gourmet meal or an expensive bottle of wine.
I looked up into his eyes, my heart racing, my breath caught in my throat. I waited for him to say something about my birthmark, but he didn’t. Instead, he put a hand on my hip and lowered his mouth to my chest. I closed my eyes to concentrate on the sensations. He licked his way up one mound, circling the nipple with the tip of his tongue.
Back arching, I moaned. Every single movement was delicious torture. Every heated breath against my skin was another chance at redemption. I wondered how I had gotten so lucky. Surely there were more worthy women than I to share Nate’s bed. He was a billionaire who rescued me from the gutter. He should be with an heiress, or a princess, or some other fabulously wealthy person.
I pushed those thoughts from my mind. For whatever reason, Nate chose me, and I was determined not to let him down. I wanted to play with him the way he was playing with me. There was only one way to get what I was after, and that was to assert myself dramatically.
I wrapped my legs around his waist and rolled to the right, pulling him along with me. Sitting up, I looked down at him in awe. He put his hands on my thighs, a picture of masculinity. I reached for his waistband, undoing the buttons and peeling the fabric away.
