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“He’s your ex-husband.“ He leans toward me, his familiar scent of leather and pine nearly turn me into putty. “It’s true. I thought you might have assets that belonged to his company. I wanted them back to pay back the clients he stole from.”
The air is so charged it crackles. We stare at each other. My traitorous brain goes into overdrive. My pussy contracts, as I imagine his hands cupping my breasts. His lips laving that spot behind my ear. When my mind drifts to his magic fingers expertly circling my clit, I have to shift in my seat so I can clench my thighs together. Jesus. Do I really need to stave off the impending orgasm that’s building at just the thought of having sex with him again?
“Clover,” he whispers and moves over to me. Palms the back of my head and pulls me toward him.
I want to resist.
But, I can’t.
Joar drags his nose down my cheek until our foreheads touch. He sucks on my lower lip. Kisses all around my mouth until I have no choice but to let him in. Our tongues war as we frantically shed our clothes. Within moments nearly everything is in a pile on the floor.
Except for the final barrier.
Which Joar eliminates. He peels off my panties and kisses my belly. Presses my legs apart and hooks them over his shoulders. Licks the hollows of my legs. Works his way toward my center. I claw at his head, trying to move him to where I need him, but he commands, “Place your hands above your head and grab the arm of the sofa. Do. Not. Let. Go.”
I do as I’m told, much to my chagrin.
Yet, my chest heaves in anticipation. I want him more than anything I’ve ever wanted in my life in this moment. How can I resist?
But, how can I think this way? This man is a liar. A control freak.
He’s wearing a fucking suit.
His mouth engulfs my pussy. He spreads my lips wide with his thumbs to hold me open, gorging on me. Licking up my juices. Fucking me with his tongue. Sucking on my clit. Nipping at it. Relentlessly, expertly going down on me like I’ve never experienced in my life. Except for that night…
My pussy spasms when he slides two long fingers inside me and massages my G-spot. I cry out when he flutters his tongue on my swollen nub. Holy hell, I see stars. Then the stars explode. I jackknife and buck when the orgasm hits me. I’m wild. Uninhibited.
Free.
Except, I’m not.
I’m still holding on to the goddamn arm of the couch. Just like he ordered.
Life is so cruel.
I can’t go any further.
“JJ—Joar—get off me.” I squirm out from under him. “I can’t do this with you.”
He kneels back, his magnificent cock juts out temptingly. Stroking it deliberately, he rubs the liquid leaking from the tip around his crown with his thumb. “What do you mean? We’re meant to do this.”
I reach for my dress on the floor and use it to cover myself. “No. We aren’t.”
“Oh...” Deflated but compliant, he leans over, snags his boxer briefs and slips them on. “I guess I read it wrong.” Buries his face in his hands.
“You lied to me.“ I pull my dress over my head and pull on my panties. “I can’t be intimate with someone who deliberately deceived me. Not again.”
He rolls his head to look over at me. “You know me better than most people in my life. I shared things with you in the elevator that no one else knows.”
“God. You would say anything,“ I scoff at his reference to whatever superficial shit we talked about that night. How can I believe any of it? “Tell me the truth. Am I that good of a lay?”
He whirls toward me. “Don’t demean what happened. You know we shared something special. Something…important. You can’t tell me otherwise.”
“Oh. Poor Joar. Did you catch feelings for me?“ I taunt. I’m being an asshole. A hurt asshole.
He winces. “Ouch. Okay, maybe I was right all along.”
“Right about what?” I move toward my vanity to brush my hair, but mainly to remove myself from temptation.
