Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Social conduct for hate-free inter-colleague teamwork
Short: SCHIT
The parties may not physically attack each other unless the other party requests it.
What the hell was wrong with her?
“Shit,” Hazel whispered. She slumped over, buried her face in her hands, and shook her head. Her whole body trembled, with waning anticipation, with shame.
God, she felt so ridiculous.
Obviously, she couldn’t jump into bed with Gareth again simply because her body wanted to, craving an end to it. Naturally, they couldn’t start an affair simply so they could have a fresh start afterward.
They were working together! They didn’t like each other.
Groaning softly, she rubbed her temples. She didn’t know how long she sat there, how long she tried to calm herself and failed. Her whole body was on fire, demanding release. For Gareth. It was merely muscle memory that wanted him, but if she couldn’t have him, then at least…
Trembling, she hiked her skirt up and bunched it around her hips.
She ran her own hands over her legs, imagining they were his.
Hated it, wanted it, needed it. She sank deeper into the couch cushions, placed her legs on the low coffee table, and rolled down the waistband of her pantyhose before slipping her fingers into her panties.
She knew how wet she was before she touched herself.
Sighing softly, she closed her eyes as she slowly circled her center with her index finger, adding a second when she needed more pressure. Imagined she wasn’t alone, that she…
A floorboard creaked, and her eyes flew open.
Her heart froze, as did her hand. Gareth hadn’t closed the door. He must have left it ajar because he was standing in her damned living room again, staring at the hand between her legs.
Her breathing quickened and her mouth went dry as he licked his lips.
“Oh, please, don’t stop on my account,” he said darkly, strolling toward her. His gaze was so hungry it gave her goosebumps.
“What the hell are you still doing here?” she whispered, unable to move or even remove her hand from her panties.
Gareth ignored her question and calmly crossed the room until he was standing directly over her. He examined the hose bunched around her ankles. Then his gaze slid up her legs, and she saw his hands clench in his pockets when his gaze reached her damp panties.
“Keep going,” he murmured roughly.
“What?” She swallowed. Was she daydreaming?
“Okay.” Gareth nodded slowly, placed his large, rough hands on her knees, and spread her legs wider.
His fingers on her bare skin sent electric shocks directly between her thighs, making her tremble.
But he paid no attention, and instead, stepped over one leg…
before slowly kneeling between them. He turned his head, ran his rough stubble down the inside of her thigh, and kissed her soft skin.
Hazel shuddered. She pressed her fingers harder against her core, not daring to move them…but needing the friction more than her next breath.
“Take your hand away,” Gareth commanded.
“I need space.” He dragged his fingertips up her thighs and gently brushed the edge of her underwear.
The next moment, he tugged at her wrist. “I gave you the opportunity to continue on your own,” he whispered.
“But I’m not a patient man, Hazel.” He peered into her eyes as he roughly ran the knuckle of his index finger over her midsection through the fabric of her panties. “So I’ll take over.”
Hazel’s hips jerked forward, and she gasped throatily. More. She needed more. But…
“Gareth,” she breathed. “What…why…”
“I think that’s obvious,” he whispered, kissing her knee and slowly working his way forward as he pushed her panties aside with his right hand – “We were just discussing why” – and sank a finger inside her.
A moan escaped her, and she clawed at the white fabric of her couch.
“And just for the record,” he whispered, kissing a path of heaven and hell up her thigh, “I no longer have a girlfriend.”
The next moment, he pressed his lips to her hot core and sucked her into his mouth.
Hazel melted into the couch. Sweet lava surged through her veins, robbing her of her senses.
She had heard Gareth’s words, but they made no sense — and shit, she didn’t care right now because he added a second finger and joyfully slid it inside her while he tortured her with his tongue.
She lost herself in the sounds coming from his throat, the sounds that had her clawing the sofa cushion.
Her hips lifted from the couch as Gareth curled his fingers and simultaneously pressed his tongue against her most sensitive spot, but the bastard held her pelvis in place with his free hand, leaving her at his mercy.
Shit, it was better than she remembered.
And Gareth wasn’t even giving her everything!
Still, it was too much, and when he whispered, “If I’d known back then that it would be our last time, I would have done this twenty times just to remember how you taste,” she came just from the desire in his voice.
Wave after wave ripped at her body as Gareth continued to torture her with his fingers and mouth until she was nothing more than a mindless, ecstatic mass. Only then did he pull away, flashing her a wolfish grin. “Better or worse than you could have done yourself?” he asked innocently.
She stared at him — and laughed. Everything about this was…absurd. And wonderful. And horrible. And stupid. And the best thing that had ever happened to her.
She grabbed one of the nearby pillows and struck his head.
Laughing softly, he caught it and tossed it over his shoulder. “No physical assault. It’s in our contract.” He frowned. “On the other hand, our contract also states that we strongly discourage physical contact, so…”
Hazel laughed louder. Now the guy was joking?
“What the hell, Gareth?” she whispered breathlessly, pulling her feet off the table and staring at him, shaking her head as she slowly floated from the ceiling back to the floor and landed in reality.
“Tell me, did you…did you say earlier that you broke up with your girlfriend?” she asked, confused.
She was having an extremely hard time thinking straight and she was almost certain she’d misheard.
“Yes. It turns out you were right.”
She shuddered. God, the man had never been as hot as he was the moment he uttered those words.
“About what?”
“That I wasn’t being fair to her. It wouldn’t be fair to any woman to marry her while I’m thinking about doing that with you. So…” He looked up at her slowly. “Do we end a decade of pent-up anger and unhealthy desire and then start over with no regrets or thoughts of the past?”
She smiled broadly, her heart rate immediately picking up again. “You’ve never said anything so meaningful, Gareth. Now stop talking and kiss me.” If they were going to add an immorality clause to their contract, she could at least take full advantage of it – with everything Gareth had to offer.
Gareth slowly straightened up and she pulled him toward her by his loose tie. When he finally pressed his lips to hers, she was filled with such a strong sense of rightness that it momentarily took her breath away.
Gareth buried a hand in her hair, gently lifted her chin, and kissed her with a sweet tenderness she hadn’t been prepared for, a feeling she felt all the way to her toes.
It was strange, but the kiss felt more intimate than Gareth’s tongue between her thighs. It wasn’t urgent. It didn’t say, I need you. Now. Immediately. It said I want to savor you for as long as possible.
For some reason, that frightened her. It made her dig her fingers into his shoulders and deepen the kiss. She needed more heat, more desire, because such a sensual kiss was the last thing she wanted. Just as she knew this wasn’t right, that it was incredibly wrong — and they didn’t care.
It was a means to an end. No…more than that.
Slowly, she sank backward onto the couch, savoring the feel of Gareth’s weight on her body, between her legs. He was hard – everywhere. And she needed him now.
Impatiently, she kicked the pantyhose off her feet while he worked on the buttons of her blouse.
He slipped inside and cupped her breasts through her bra, squeezing them and roughly running his thumbs over her nipples until a gasp escaped her.
He rocked his hips forward, and the taut zipper of his trousers rubbed against her underwear, making her whole body tremble as she shakily tugged the tie from around his neck, grabbed his collar, and pulled his mouth closer again.
It wasn’t fair that he’d kissed her between the legs more often today than on the lips — and she loved Gareth’s kisses.
They were deep, long, and uncontrolled, and each stroke of his tongue was more pleasurable than the last. She dug her nails into his shirt, hating that it wasn’t already on the floor, and wrapped her legs around his hips.
Impatiently, she rubbed his shaft through the layers of fabric and kissed him with everything she had until they both could hardly breathe.
“I’m on the pill — and I’ll be on top next,” she whispered when they finally broke apart for a second. She took the opportunity to tug at the buttons on his shirt, finally feeling bare skin beneath her fingers…when Gareth’s chest vibrated. Was the bastard laughing?
“I wasn’t joking!”
“I know, that’s why I’m laughing. God, you haven’t changed.”
She felt her lips tighten, but she didn’t grant him the victory of her smile. Instead, she nudged his knee off the couch and pushed against him, sending them tumbling sideways to the floor — he beneath her, the white carpet at his back.
“What the hell…?”
“I’m on top,” she repeated with a smile, sliding along his thighs and slipping the open shirt over his shoulders, finally revealing his pecs and abs, which made her mouth water. “That is non-negotiable.”