Chapter 10
Run, do not walk to your nearest exit!
When Jane had asked Henry to dance, it had been a strategic move to get him away from his dad and his mind on something other than a bar fight. But then he’d had to call her a quitter and Jane had taken the bait, dancing on him like he was a pole. And now she was kissing him like it was about to go out of style.
Jane Marie Pearce, what are you doing?
Nothing good, that’s what.
They’d already taken things too far and this needed to stop before hormones took over and rational thinking went out the window.
“Henry,” she whispered against his mouth.
“Mmm,” was all he said back.
“Henry,” she said a little more firmly, and he lifted his head, those beautiful brown eyes hooded.
“We’re asking for trouble,” Jane said, but didn’t stop him as he walked her backward against the desk.
“Love, we were in trouble the moment we met at the airport.”
“So you felt the chemistry before the cocktail party?” she asked, and the heat in his eyes told her all she needed to know. He’d wanted her before she’d been Elle. He’d wanted her when she’d been just Plain Jane in her leggings and sweatshirt, no made-up story, no disguise, no twisted half-truths.
“I wanted you the second you called me an asshole.”
“It was the truth.”
“I know. That’s why it was so sexy and complicated.”
She’d shared a lot of truths with him since then, things she rarely shared with anyone, but all the while he’d thought she was Elle, a socialite from a well-to-do family.
“Do you want me?”
“Desperately,” she answered honestly. “What about Sarah? I told her I wouldn’t cross this line.” But she really wanted to cross this line. “I take my duties seriously.”
“So do I.” He waggled a brow.
She smacked his chest. “I’m being serious.”
“I am too. But you and I have been nothing but honest, even when we’re razzing each other. So truth time, love. If it weren’t for Sarah, what would you want to do right now?”
She should say leave. That would be the smart way to go. But he asked her for honesty and she wanted to give him that. “You. I’d want to do you.”
“Who am I to deny a lady what she wants?”
And tonight was goingto be all about what Elle wanted. She was adamant about how complicated things could get and he wanted to argue, but couldn’t because of the mess of emotions knotting in his chest. Want, need, desperation. And some good old-fashioned hesitation and uncertainty.
Hesitation because he had a strict rule of never sleeping with his sisters’ friends. Uncertainty on how to proceed because he knew that all it would take was a gentle tug in either direction, and her dress would be like a Hula-Hoop around her waist. But then there was his dick piping up, reminding him that while he was contemplating the complexity of his emotions, Elle was looking at him as if he were the only man in the world to solve her problem.
Funny, because he felt like she was the singular solution to his ever-growing problem.
“Are we just going to stare at each other?” she asked, her voice rough and low.
“Depends. What color lace do you have on?”
She leaned back on the desk in invitation, resting her palms on the flat surface in a pose that had her tits on display, and if that wasn’t a green light, then he didn’t know what was.
He closed the tiny gap between them and stepped into her, his hands pressing palms-down on the desk, caging her in. She didn’t move, causing her tits to ever so slightly brush his chest.
He would have thought her hands were down his pants by the way his body reacted.
Gazes locked. “Is this your way of saying you want me to take you on the desk?”
She shook her head, then spun around. Looking over her shoulder, she said, “I want you to take me against the desk.” She stuck out that heart-shaped ass, grinding into his groin so erotically that he nearly came.
He gripped her hips and yanked her bum all the way against his erection so she could feel just how badly he wanted her. With a moan, she wiggled.
“How long are you going to make me wait?”
His answer was to take her mouth with his in what had to be the most electric kiss of his life. The second their lips met it was like a spark to gasoline, and his body went up like a five-alarm fire.
She didn’t close her eyes or look away; she watched as he let his mouth roam down her shoulder to her back, nipping and licking as he traveled down her body.
He reached the zipper of her dress and slowly slid it down her body, parting the material with his nose until the silky dress didn’t have a foundation to stand on and puddled at her waist, just like he knew it would.
His hands came around to confirm the story her bare back was telling him—she’d skipped the bra portion of her outfit.
As if a homing beacon, his hands immediately searched them out and hot damn. They were a perfect handful. Soft and pliant and puckered, begging for attention. He filled his palms, weighing them, sculpting them until she was breathing heavy.
He ran his hands down her sides, over the bunching of silky fabric to the backs of her thighs. When he started his descent, his fingers slid under the dress’s hem and, slowly tugging it up as he went, followed the gentle slope of her ass before cupping it.
“And what do we have here?” he asked when her dress was bunched around her waist, exposing a single sliver of lace that cut down between her cheeks. It was fuck-me red.
“Did you wear these for me?” he asked, running his hands up, his thumbs sliding beneath the strip and tracing her valley until he reached the waist band.
“Cocky much?”
He gave her a playful smack to her bare ass cheek. She moaned in pleasure. “Just confident. There’s a difference.”
“Maybe I wore them for me?”
“Or maybe you’re too stubborn to admit that you think about me as much as I think about you.”
“That’s the problem with you Brits, you think too much.” He had to laugh. Even while in the most vulnerable position, she was still arguing with him. “Now get to the good part.”
As if to tell him that the negotiations were finished, she rested down on her forearms and stuck her ass all the way out in a glorious sight that could rival one of the seven wonders of the world.
“Like this?” He ran a finger beneath the silk and between the valley, following it all the way down and around until he could cup her core. She was so wet she’d practically soaked through her thong.
“This is definitely for me.” Before she could deny it, he gripped a hip and yanked her higher so that he had better access to drive her insane.
She squeaked but then his fingers found her sweet spot and that squeak became a sultry moan. His finger danced around her folds, up and down, following their outer edges until she was pressing against his hand for more friction. But for every push, he pulled back.
“Is this for me?” he asked again. She remained tight-lipped. “I need a yes or no, love.” He backed off even more, his fingers barely a feather against her skin.
“And I need you to push harder.”
He pulled her thong and let it snap back. She gave an adorable huff of frustration.
“Like this?” He slid two fingers in at once. With a throaty moan her chin fell to her chest. Her very bare chest that his free hand began to explore.
With one palm massaging her tit, he began to pump his fingers into her. Slow at first, to get to know what she liked and where her pleasure points were. She bucked against him, pressing back and riding his hand.
“More like this,” she said with a threadbare voice, then rode it hard and fast. Not just telling him how she liked it, but demanding where she loved it.
His pace quickened right along with the pressure. They quickly found an easy rhythm, she pushing down when he pumped up, his entire hand nearly inside of her.
“Don’t stop.”
“I won’t unless you still refuse to admit that you were thinking of me.”
“Fine, yes. I think about you a lot.
“And the dress. Was it for me too?”
“Yes!”
“That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
“Excruciating. Now don’t stop.”
Satisfied that he’d gotten the truth out of her, he said, “I won’t.”
And he didn’t. He didn’t stop when she started moaning his name like it was her new mantra. Or when she rode his hand so hard he was certain she’d break it. He especially didn’t stop when he felt her body tighten around him, strangling his fingers. Nope, he kept going as her breath caught, her back arched and she screamed out his name while she exploded on his hand. In fact, he didn’t stop until her body was languidly sprawled across the desk, unable to lift her head.
Without giving her a reprieve, he yanked her thong down to her ankles and spread her legs so that the panties acted like a vise holding her in place. Then he took the condom out of his back pocket and was covered and sliding home in a single thrust.
“Henry,” she gasped, and he stilled.
“Too hard?”
She looked over her shoulder. “Harder.”
She moved her hips forward and pushed back until he was in to the hilt. Just when he thought he couldn’t go deeper, she made this little figure eight action, and he couldn’t hold back.
Kicking her feet as far apart as they could go—until her panties were cutting into her ankles—he lifted her by her hips and, placing a hand between her and the corner of the desk, pumped into her hard, pulling all the way out and sliding back in slowly. She seemed to like that, so he did it again. On the third pass, he felt her impatience kick in.
She took his free hand and brought it around to her breast, pressing into his palm, then she pumped her hips back and forth. He trying to slow them down, she demanding more.
He had to laugh. Even sex with her was like arguing. It was also a complete turn-on. He was used to women fawning all over him, telling him how good he was. Not Elle. Nope, she took what she wanted—and he wanted to give it all to her. So he gave it.
Their rhythm became fast and unbearably urgent, until their bodies were slapping each other and her tits were swinging. His dick went impossibly hard, so hard he was certain it would break if he didn’t get some kind of relief.
As if sensing his need, she took one foot out of her panties and spread her legs even further, then rested her cheek on the desk with her back arched to give him full access. He took it. Gripping her hips, he slammed into her over and over, so hard the desk moved forward with each thrust.
“One more and I’m going to come,” she warned.
Before thrusting again, he reached around her and found her pleasure button and placed the heel of his hand on it, then pressed down at the same time he entered her. And that was all it took. She went off like a rocket. Her muscles tightened around him, practically smothering him and then she let out this broken scream and that was what did him in.
He pumped through her orgasm and right when she was coming down, he bucked again and this time they both flew apart. His orgasm came hard and fast, nearly taking him out at the knees.
After he was completely spent, he collapsed on top of her. Henry curled his body around hers, careful not to crush her. They lay like that for a while, until their heartbeats had left stroke levels.
When he was able to string two thoughts together, something punched him in the gut. This was supposed to make things simple, yet he was more confused than ever because what was unraveling in his chest was the exact opposite of simple. It was complicated as hell.
“Come with me tomorrow,”Henry said, watching Elle slowly straighten her dress.
Her eyes were still sex-hazed from her orgasm, her body moving languorously. “The best way to keep this between us is to avoid each other.”
“You want to keep this a secret?” A weird pang pinched his chest. Most women would want this splattered all over the tabloids. But Elle seemed horrified at the idea of anyone knowing about tonight. Or even more confusing—them.
“Well, I don’t want Sarah or your parents finding out, do you? This is supposed to be about her, not us hooking up.”
“This was more than a hook-up,” he said and wanted to find a way to prove it. “Come tomorrow to corporate headquarters and let me prove it. It’s a super laid-back event. Just unveiling the cars for the new season. Some press will be there to take a few shots of Enzo and me, and my family will be there.” He walked up to her and slid his arms around her waist. She didn’t resist. In fact, she did the opposite of resist, she melted into him. “I’d love to see you there.”
“I don’t have anything to wear to something like that.” She stepped out of his arms and went back to patting down her thoroughly mussed hair. “I came prepared for cocktail attire only.”
“That can be arranged.” Henry tried to fix his tie, but his hands were still shaking from the adrenaline rush. She shoved them aside and began looping the silk material around itself.
“I don’t need you to arrange things for me. Unlike you, I can dress myself.” She finished his tie like a pro and then grabbed his sports coat off the back of the chair and handed it to him.
A folded paper fluttered to the ground. Papers he’d forgotten about and now wished he’d never brought.
They both reached for them at the same time.
“What’s this?” she asked, getting there first.
“Nothing.”
“If it’s nothing, then why does it have my name on it?”
“Elle, it doesn’t matter anymore,” he said, and shit, he was going to ruin everything.
She scanned the document, and he knew when she understood what it was. “Is this for real?” She held up the papers as if they were evidence in a murder trial. “You want me to sign an NDA?” Before he could answer that going into the night he had, but he’d changed his mind, she went on. “Is this because of what we talked about the other day? About Sarah?”
“Yeah.”
She gave a single nod, then smacked it to his chest. “So you trust me enough to fuck me, but not enough to talk to me. And here I thought we’d built a connection.”
“We have. This is just normal to me.”
“I’m not mad about the NDA. I’m mad that you screwed me first. Is this some kind of game for you?”
“God, no.”
“Then why do I feel like I’ve been played?” She turned to leave. He grabbed her arm and she stopped. “Let go.” At the quiver in her voice, he did.
“You haven’t been. That wasn’t my intention. I’ve been screwed over so many times.”
She turned to look at him, her face bright with anger. “Which is why I already signed an NDA with Sarah that covers all week. All the wedding party did. It was my idea.”
Well shit. “I didn’t know.”
“I guess it just goes to show how little we know about each other. And what a mistake this was.”
“This wasn’t a mistake. This was a mistake.” He held up the papers.
“What was your plan, to fuck me, then serve me?”
“No, once I kissed you, I decided I trusted you.”
“That must have been some kiss,” she sneered. “Ironically after that kiss, I can’t ever trust you. If it weren’t for Sarah’s wedding, I’d walk out of here and never see you again. But that isn’t possible. So for Sarah’s sake we’ll play nice, avoid each other as much as possible, and when the week is up I never want to hear from you again.”
“Love, let me explain,” he begged, and her whole body tightened in what he assumed was disgust.
“Call me Elle. It’s less confusing that way for everyone.”