Chapter 17
Roxy
Madness.
Madness.
Madness.
My days are filled with madness. Lust-induced, sex-filled, wrecked-by-orgasms madness.
I get out of the elevator and enjoy the silence of the office. I’ve always loved the quiet before the storm.
Empty cubicles. Yawning offices. A pause in a pulsating organism of business that makes money. A lot of it.
But Merged has always been more for me. This office also provides healthcare for Olivia-from-the-HR’s mother. It’s a learning experience for every new intern. It’s teamwork and drinks after work for many lonely people.
It’s a community. A family. Slightly dysfunctional, bonded by profits and business, but still more of a home than my family ever gave me.
This moment before everyone arrives, when the air lingers between the night’s silence and the morning eruption of activity… this is like a meditation for me.
I usually use the time to get ready for the day. To make a mental inventory. To prepare for the battles. To orchestrate the social life this machine needs.
Today, I’m not here for work, though.
If Liam Stone thinks he can toy with me and not bear the consequences, he’s mistaken.
I believe you were reaching for this.
God help me, I enjoy his skilled hands, tongue, and that impressive cock a bit too much.
I don’t know what’s gotten into me, because sex has never been this important. But I can’t help it now.
It’s like with Romeo, I rediscovered my sexuality, and the feeling is potent. Empowering. Inconveniently essential.
I wish my sexual partner wasn’t my professional nightmare.
I tighten the belt on my overcoat as I walk past my door toward Liam’s office.
Payback time.
“What are you smiling about?” Corm’s voice spikes my heart rate, and I stumble.
My stiletto catches on the carpet. The momentum propels me forward faster than my reflexes.
My boss catches me.
Fuck.
I jerk away like a skittish cat and quickly adjust my coat. I hope he didn’t see what I have—or rather don’t have—underneath.
“You startled me,” I admonish. “What are you doing here this early?”
I look up and meet his puzzled frown. Okay, he did get an eyeful of… something.
“I’m leaving for Chicago, and I forgot a file here.” He studies me with a scrutiny that makes me want to squirm. I don’t squirm in front of him.
“I could have had it delivered to you.” I fasten the belt more, hoping to establish some semblance of propriety. I’m almost certain I flashed him.
“I have a chopper picking me up here.” He beckons with his head toward the ceiling. Merged has a heliport on the roof. “I didn’t want to wake Saar.”
And yes, Cormac Quinn has a heliport on the roof of his house as well.
“I see…” I peter out, unsure what to say or do.
He caught me. He caught me wearing a coat and not much more in the office. I could explain that as another fashion extravagance.
The bigger problem is that I was heading away from my office. And I’m flustered. Goddammit. I don’t get jumpy.
“Enjoy Chicago.” I tip my chin up and head to my office, hoping—
“You were walking the other way,” he drawls.
There goes my hope that he wouldn’t notice. “I can do that later.”
“Do what later?”
Fuck. I turn, jutting out my hip and planting my hand on it. Inner-turmoil-outer-confidence is a skill I mastered since I was a little girl. A survival skill.
“Don’t you have a helicopter to catch?”
A smirk tugs at his lips. He prowls toward me. “Something is going on. I will find out what.”
My heart blocks my throat, and I’m sure he must see it pulsing. I give him a smile filled with confidence that I fake like it’s my birthright.
He studies me for a beat and then continues on his way out. I remain rooted on the spot, holding my breath until I hear the elevator chime with Corm’s departure.
I let out a long breath, leaning against the wall. Jesus. I need to stop this affair. My chest heaves as I close my eyes, searching for my composure.
The madness has to end now. Now. Now.
The danger isn’t worth it.
Isn’t it? the devil on my shoulder, probably sponsored by my libido, challenges.
I reach into my purse to get my phone and feel the toy I brought. The fantasy I had planned hits me with all its salacious details.
I text Liam.
Looking around, I listen for a moment to make sure I won’t get intercepted again, and then walk to my lover’s office.
The office that should be mine.
Putting my purse down, I sit in his chair and plant my feet on the table.
And I wait, my heart now double-jumping from Corm’s encounter and from anticipation.
Corm won’t have time to investigate. And even if he entertained the idea of finding out, there would be nothing to find out.
The door springs open, and the temperature increases immediately. Fuck, the man is gorgeous.
He’s wearing a navy-blue shirt that he didn’t bother to tuck into his gray slacks. No jacket, no tie… Did he leave in a hurry?
“What’s the emergency?” Liam closes the door behind him, reacting to my cryptic text.
His hair is tousled like I pulled him out of his bed, which I probably did.
Shit. We’ve never done it in bed. I have never seen him like this… just woken up. It’s a delicious sight. I squeeze my thighs.
I crook my finger and beckon him to me. He tilts his head and hesitates for a moment, but then he saunters over. Slow and confident, knowing well what a devastating effect he has on me.
He rounds the desk, and I see the tent in his pants. I’m not the only one affected. A smile stretches across my face.
“Did I wake you?” I lick my lips, dropping my feet to the floor.
I drag my fingernails up his thighs and draw a circle around his growing erection. His sharp intake of air stretches my smile farther.
He grips my chin and forces me to look at him. “What’s the emergency? Is it your greedy pussy, Little Thunder?”
I wet my lips with a languid swipe of my tongue. “Perhaps.” I shrug and stand up.
Liam grips the back of my neck and fuses his lips with mine. Of course, he would take over immediately.
And, of course, I enjoy it.
I surrender to his tongue, his lips, his demanding mouth for a moment.
Being kissed by this man is all-consuming. He worships me in a way that makes me feel like a queen.
Somehow, when his lips are on mine, everything ceases to exist. My family. The work. Our competition. His incomprehensible interest in Merged. My need for independence.
Kissing Liam Stone feels like safety amid storm at sea and its danger wrapped in one.
He kisses me like he owns me. Like I’m his oxygen. Like we belong together.
The feeling is heady, and way too real for what this is. I pull away, and what I see in his gaze scares me.
He looks at me with something that is more than playful fooling around. Something resembling intimacy beyond the physical.
Our gazes locked, our breathing synchronized, we stare at each other, fighting the feelings.
Taking a pause to urge them away. That’s what I’m doing, anyway.
“Should we take care of your emergency?” he rasps, recovering first.
Maybe he isn’t as affected as I am. Perhaps it’s just an affair for him. One we need to end, I remind myself.
I pivot us and push him to sit. Lifting my foot, I place the red stiletto between his legs and push him away. The chair rolls toward the wall of windows.
“I like the heels.” He reaches for me.
“Don’t move.” I raise my fingers.
He narrows his eyes and shifts in his chair. Liam Stone is not used to being told what to do. At work. In life. And especially in the bedroom.
He flexes his fingers, his Adam’s apple jumping. The moment is charged. His deliberation. My anticipation. Our demise.
When he says nothing, I decide to lead. “If you like the heels, you will like this as well.”
I pull at the sash, and the unbuttoned coat falls apart. Liam’s pupils dilate, and he grips the armrests.
I’m wearing my heels and stockings up to my mid-thighs, adorned with lace. Nothing else.
His gaze rakes over my naked body with an intensity that scorches my skin.
He is not touching me, but my nipples pucker up, and the spot between my legs is covered with my arousal.
His chest heaves in the same rhythm as mine. His every inhale is my exhale.
He licks his lips. “I definitely approve. This is a very welcome emergency. Now stop stalling, Little Thunder, and come over here.”
He doesn’t pounce. He respects my rules. I told him not to move, and while his hands itch to touch me, white-knuckling the chair, he honors my request.
I don’t know what to do with his surrender.
I don’t know how to handle a man like him. Every time I think I have the upper hand, he surprises me.
He takes over when I allow him to.
He shares his wins.
He praises my achievements.
Even when he’s in charge, he never takes advantage of me.
“Where did you go again, baby?”
Baby. Jesus.
I find the handcuffs in my purse and hide them behind my back. He is not too far, but I take my time approaching.
Hips swaying. Goose bumps spreading. Arousal thrumming all over my body.
I lower my lips to his, and before he can take over, I clip his wrist to the armrest.
I pull away, and he looks down and smirks. “Well-played, Little Thunder, well-played.”
“Thank you.” I bite my lower lip and saunter back to the desk. “Now be a good boy, and stay there.”
The hunger in his eyes has a direct line to my core, and I almost whimper. Being desired by this man is a dangerous impulse.
“You were wrong yesterday,” I start, and pull the toy out of my purse. “This is the remote I was looking for.” I show him a small pink gadget.
He swallows and pushes with his legs to move the chair.
“Not so fast.” I raise my finger, stopping him. “You can only watch.”
He licks his lips. “Is this your revenge for leaving you there yesterday?”
“You’re catching on quickly.” I hop onto his desk.
“May I remind you, I made sure you were well taken care of before I left?”
“And well discarded, too,” I retort.
“Roxy, that’s not…” He swallows around his plea, the regret and apology in it tugging at something in my chest. “I’m sorry,” he says simply.
The air is now thick with more than our need, and I almost run away, leaving him there.
But that would be a capitulation, and he already pulls at too many of my strings; I can’t give him more access.
“Now, you watch only. For the last time. This affair is taking too much time and… it’s not worth my future.”
He winces.
Before I regret my words and let his reaction talk me out of anything, I spread my legs and slowly push the egg inside me.
Liam’s guttural groan is low and dangerous. The man who makes me lose control is struggling to keep his.
I push the on button, and the vibration makes me gasp. “If you don’t move, I’ll let you use the remote.” I increase the intensity and gasp, the stimulation edging me faster than I expected.
“Fuuuck,” he grits out. “You’re perfect.”
His praise. Again. Jesus.
I clench around the toy and lower the setting, because I might come in under a minute.
Our gazes lock, and I’m not sure if I like what I read in his. A mixture of need, desperation, and something else I can’t decipher.
“If you think this can get you off as good as me, be my guest. I certainly enjoy the view. But as soon as you’re done with your little show, Thunder, we will talk.”
I pant, fighting the overwhelming need to come. “We don’t talk. That’s not who we are.”
“There are things to be discussed.” His breathing is labored.
“I-I-I disagree.” The chase for release wins, and I jab the plus on the remote to get the highest intensity.
“We’re not over,” he growls. “Get it out of your pretty head.”