Chapter 11
“Where was I when all this happened? Geez, must’ve been out like a rock. I didn’t hear a thing.” Sarah sat back in the booth, grabbed her coffee cup, and shook her head. “Wow.”
“Yeah, wow is right.”
Emma finished the last sip of her honey-lemon tea.
Last night, after Patrick’s unexpected arrival, sleep had been impossible, because every time she closed her eyes, his face appeared—etched with worry, fear, and something she couldn’t place.
One thing was for sure, and if she wanted to keep her sanity intact, a wall needed to be erected. Her feelings for him couldn’t cloud her judgment again.
Hell, no.
“I’m at a loss as to what to tell you, Ems. I’m sorry.”
Emma shrugged. “It’s okay, really. It just feels good to get this off my chest. I appreciate you listening.”
Sarah smiled. “That’s what friends are for, lady.”
She and Sarah spent the next twenty minutes talking about work projects, weekend plans, and for a time, Emma thought about something else other than Patrick. It felt nice.
Another fifteen minutes passed before Emma realized how late it was. Sarah pitched in her half of the bill and they made their way out.
Emma slung her purse over her shoulder, and only then did it hit her. Her briefcase was missing.
Damn it, she’d left it back at the office. Normally, she didn’t bring work home, but lately they’d been on a roll. She liked to keep her notes nearby.
“Shit.” The soft curse slipped out before she could stop it.
“What’s the matter?”
“I forgot my briefcase at work. I’ll head back and catch a cab home. Don’t wait up for me.”
Sarah pursed her lips. “I don’t see why it can’t wait until morning but go ahead. And be careful. I’ll see you soon.”
Fifteen minutes later, she swiped her card and made her way into the semi-lit office building. The cubicles were covered in shadows, their owners gone for the day.
About halfway to her office, she halted in her tracks. Patrick sat in the conference room. She slunk back into the darkness of a cubicle.
Air swooshed out of her lungs as Nina suddenly stepped into view. The woman stood over him and pressed herself indecently into his back. Leaning closer, and hell, if she leaned in any closer they’d both land on top of the table.
Patrick’s stance shifted, and his shoulders tensed.
Shielding herself further from view, Emma’s mind wandered to dangerous territory as the nauseating scene unfolded. Was he was sleeping with Nina too?
Finally, he stood up and his voice grew louder, but still, she could not make out the words.
Emma’s eyes widened as she watched Nina lean in and press her lips to his. Grabbing on to her belly, because she’d surely lose her dinner, Emma shut her eyes tightly. This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening.
Opening her eyes, she found them standing apart once more. Patrick forcefully removed her arms and took a step back. Again, his tone elevated, but still the words were not entirely clear.
Nina had finally given up, and within moments, the door to the conference room flung open. Emma squatted so as not to be seen. The soft beat of retreating footsteps sounded, followed by a jab of the elevator button, and suddenly, all was quiet.
When she felt it safe, Emma pulled herself together and approached the conference room. She slammed the door behind her, facing off with Patrick, who wore a puzzled, but wary expression on his face. She didn’t know where she would go with this, but here she was anyway. And there was no going back now.
Rationally, she knew he’d blown off Nina’s advances. Emotionally? Jealousy burned hot and raw in her chest, and she wasn’t thinking straight. Anger erased everything logical in her mind.
“Patrick. Working extra hours, I see?” she asked, unable to keep the sarcasm out of her tone, but she didn’t care.
As if he could see through her façade, he shot her an inquisitive stare.
The green-eyed monster, ferocious and on fire, stomped on what little was left of her wall.
“Emma.” He continued to study her.
She straightened her shoulders. “I see you were a little preoccupied with Nina. Excuse me.”
The moment she turned her back, he grasped her arm and turned her toward him, bringing them face to face. Her equilibrium shook, and her once-steady pulse thumped wildly. The ferocious heat staring back at her made her forget everything.
That was it.
Damn him for having this effect on her.
Will it always be like this? Will I ever be free of this beautiful man’s spell? Let’s face it, Emma. You’re a hypocrite, a failure.
First, she’d told him she’d wanted to go slow, and now this? Her actions, and words, belied her words, tenfold.
It couldn’t be helped. She recalled the look of concern on his face last night, and how he’d driven over just to make sure she was okay. He’d surprised her at every turn.
“There is nothing going on between me and Nina,” he bit off.
She huffed. “Haha, very funny, Patrick. I saw you two just now, and believe me, she wants you.”
He cocked his head. “She kissed me, and it meant nothing.”
Fear of giving more away, Emma pressed her lips together, because the idea of someone else kissing Patrick made her blood heat, and like a dog marking its territory, she wanted him for herself. She didn’t want anyone else to see him naked, or wake up to sexy, sleepy smiles, to bask in his warmth and comfort.
Awareness crossed his features. “Wait a minute. You’re jealous.”
Releasing herself from his grasp, she blindly took several steps back until her bottom hit the edge of the table. She dropped her purse with shaky fingers. “I am not.”
He stepped closer, and her train of thought slowly slipped away. Gently, he cradled her face within his palms, and caressed her cheeks. The pad of his thumb enticingly rubbed her lower lip. His eyes trained on the spot, and she could see it. Just like her, he battled an inner fight too.
“I thought you wanted to go slow, Emma.”
She kept her lips sealed, because, hell, she couldn’t deny it. “Yes, I did say that,” she said, her voice hushed.
The last pathetic thread of her self-control unraveled, slipping further and further away. The wall crumbled, even if she tried to keep her distance, tried to draw a line between them, despite all that had already transpired. She tried to convince herself she didn’t still have feelings for him, but it was too late.
She’d grown addicted.
I hate this.
“Then why the sudden change?”
His voice pierced her thoughts, forcing her to look at him. She furiously shook her head, and her fingers tightened against the table. The longer she focused on his face, the more her knees shook.
“I don’t know.” As feeble as it sounded, it was true. She did not have an answer for him.
As though to read her mind, he closed the space between them, and pressed his mouth to hers.
Helpless to fight back, she gave in. Allowing the adrenaline, the rush of sensations to course through her. She realized where this would lead. He would make love to her in this very conference room, and she didn’t care.
She wanted him.
Open-mouthed and needy, she kissed him like her life depended on it.
One hand cupped the back of her head, deepening the kiss, while his other hand slipped down and settled at her hips. The intoxicating tease of his mouth, combined with the way he touched her, caused her body to tighten in places that needed desperate attention.
She grasped his waist and cocked her head, greeting his tongue, because she could not get enough. Savoring the sweetness, her belly fluttered as he fought back, matching her hunger with his own.
Without breaking contact, she jumped onto the table, and he followed. Becoming ravenous, he broke the kiss, and nipped at the exposed skin on her neck. Tilting her head back, she closed her eyes, and thrust her fingers in his hair. The hardness between his legs pressed intimately into her stomach.
The air in the conference room crackled and popped. The space enveloped them, like a private cocoon, where only she and Patrick existed.
Wild with need, and screw the consequences, as jealousy, anger, and confusion, melded together. Right now, she wanted Patrick. Her heart, body, and mind rejoiced. Close, but never close enough it seemed, as she gave in to her flights of whimsy. She wished she could crawl inside Patrick and stay there.
“Emma.” The heady sound of her name on his lips a sweet litany and, oh Lord.
She could feel herself sink further into the abyss that was Patrick.
Opening her eyes, she found him staring.
“Patrick.”
Mere seconds passed before he possessed her mouth again, kisses that sent a new spiral of ecstasy coursing through her. She scooted a little further up on the table and kicked off her heels. His eager fingers lowered to her waist and hips, urging her closer.
Grasping the underside of her bottom, he lowered his head, and gifted wet, smoldering kisses to the skin above her breasts. She needed more, and needed it now.
“This damn shirt is in the way,” she said.
An amused chuckle reverberated in the shell of her ear, but she focused on her task. Her fingers made haste, unbuttoning and removing her blouse, before she worked on her bra next, chucking the garments aside, until she was naked from the waist up. The cool air of the office couldn’t be felt under the heat of his intense gaze.
She didn’t think twice before removing his suit jacket and unbuttoning his shirt. For fear of losing her nerve, she kept her eyes focused on her task, roughly divesting of his tie. She grasped the bottom of his white T-shirt and sent it over his head before tossing it aside.
Bare chest to bare chest, the sound of thready breathing between them sent her pulse flying.
“God damn it, Emma.” The huskiness in his voice shot white-hot sparks through her toes.
Emma free-fell and grasped his shoulders while he took one breast in his mouth, suckling until the nipple ached with need. His tongue caressed the sensitive, swollen bud before he moved to the other and gave it the same treatment.
His steady gaze matched hers, but he never spoke, as a seductive tease of a smile darkened his face. Without warning, he dropped to his knees in front of her.
Agonizing seconds passed as he smoothed his hands up her stocking-covered legs and pushed her skirt upward and around her waist. She helped him along and lifted her rump in the air, while he removed her panties until they lay crumpled and abandoned on the floor. Leaving her with only her skirt around her waist, and already wet with need. He raised an eyebrow and smiled a slow, hot, sinful smile, as he made his descent to her inner thighs.
Scattering kisses near the juncture, and purposely bypassing it, he caressed her derriere, and gave her a semi-rough squeeze. She bit the inside of her cheek, trying to stave off a moan. He was doing the most delicious things to her. She wanted his tongue between her thighs right this minute.
“Patrick, you’re killing me.”
Her stomach lurched with excitement as he met her gaze. “Lie back for me, baby. All the way back.”
His words sparked her fire, and she momentarily lost her train of thought. Her capability to speak failed her. She did as he asked and felt exposed beyond her nudity. Silence engulfed the space as she waited. Tilting her hips in a silent invitation, she looked down just as he made intimate contact. Laving her most sensitive skin. The bud between her thighs ached and begged for him to take more. She gyrated against his mouth, and unable to control herself, she released the moan she’d been stifling.
Rolling her head back, she closed her eyes, unable to watch him any longer. As appealing a sight as it was, she couldn’t.
“Oh my. You are so . . .” But the words got lost on her tongue, as his lips, teeth, and tongue did the most amazing things.
He continued pushing her further over the edge, and relentless in his pursuit, he sucked on the tender, aching bud. She wanted to beg him to replace his tongue with another part of his anatomy, right fucking now.
Using his hair as an anchor, she grasped the back of his head. “Patrick, I want you inside me. Please. Take. Me. Now.”
He grasped her bottom and brought her closer. Her orgasm hovered over the edge, and she hitched a breath. Her shoulders tensed, as wave after wave of orgasm rolled and rippled through her. Her body went lax as her hands tightened, grasping his hair.
“Yes, oh Patrick, yes. Yes!”
Currents of the strong orgasm rolled and ripped through her. She took a slow, steady breath, and opened her eyes. Swiping the sweat off her brow, she watched him rise to a standing position and quickly remove his pants and underwear.
Patrick, naked, was quite a sight to behold.
He shook his head, as if something just occurred to him. “Shit, I don’t have a condom.”
She sat up, supporting herself with her elbows, and greeted his frustrated gaze. Her nerves suddenly got the best of her as a salacious idea came to mind.
“I have one in my purse,” she murmured, “but before you put it on, there is something I’d like to give you first.”
A wicked grin covered his face, but he didn’t speak.
She stood, removing her skirt before she got on her knees, staring into his handsome face and seeing heaven. Then, without hesitation, she grasped his cock between her hands, and took him in her mouth, sampling as if he were the best tasting thing on earth.
“My fucking God,” he murmured.
Spurned by his desire, she laved the tip of his cock with her tongue and began stroking the hard shaft. She didn’t look up as she continued to pump while she feasted. Licking him like a lollypop, she lapped up the bead of pre-cum sitting at the tip, and his body tensed against her. She knew it would not last much longer, not even for her.
“Emma, please. I can’t take much more.”
Stealing a glance upward, she gave a small smile, observing his eyes glaze over, his breath coming in short bursts as he watched her.
Ignoring his protests, she used her hands to stroke and tease. Her teeth nipped at the sensitive erection, grasping it between her hands, before she took him into her mouth again.
“The white flag is out, please. No more.”
She couldn’t resist. “How I love to hear you beg.”
He swiped the sweat off his brow, and his features darkened. After grabbing his coat, he laid it on the table, and handed her her purse.
She found the condom, tucked away in a convenient spot, and handed it to him. He quickly tore open the wrapper and rolled it onto his thick shaft.
It didn’t take long before she was back on the table, and he sheathed himself to the hilt. No matter how many times they’d made love, it always felt like the first time.
Only then, after the mind-blowing oral sex, did reality hover over her brain for a millisecond. “Patrick, what if somebody walks in?”
“Fuck ’em,” he growled, “Then they’ll have one hell of a show, won’t they?”
Leaning in, she gifted soft kisses to the side of his neck, toward the edge of his jaw, and realizing, she could never get enough.
Her lust. Her jealousy. Her confusion. Her passion. Her love. Everything went into the kiss, and she didn’t care that they were buck-ass naked and having sex in the conference room.
He broke the kiss. His expert hands explored her waist, her hips, and his mouth nuzzled next to her ear. “Damn it, Emma. You feel fucking incredible.”
She grasped either side of his handsome face, unable to stop herself from staring because for the rest of her life she couldn’t picture sharing her life, or her bed, with anyone else.
Oh, I’m in trouble. This isn’t casual sex. Who are you fooling, beside yourself, Emma?
Love. She was in love, had never really fallen out of love, and was now in way over her head. Her lids drifted shut as she leaned her face into the crook of his shoulder. Tears burned the back of her eyelids, and she fought it for as long as she could, but she lost the battle. Warm, unwelcome tears slid down her cheeks, wetting the side her face. She hated herself for weakening.
Just as she prayed he wouldn’t notice, his body stiffened against hers.
He frowned, swiping her tears away. “Hey, are you all right?”
“I’m fine. Please, kiss me.”
Gentle at first, he pressed his lips against her, but before long, the kisses were ravaging. She cocked her head, greeting his tongue, and basking in his sweetness, tasting the essence of her juices on his tongue. He seared a path down her neck, then her shoulders before cupping one of her breasts in his hand, and took the other in his mouth. Suckling on the still-aching bud and taking his time, he teased the nipple with his thumb and forefinger.
“Bend over the table, Emma. I want to take you from behind,” he demanded, his voice brooking no argument.
His words knocked her shyness right over, and she palmed the smooth surface. She briefly hesitated, self-conscious of her ass. His experienced fingers smoothed down her shoulders, the small of her back, and over her derriere. Her breath hitched as he lazily caressed the sensitive skin.
Boldness overtook her as she bent over and spread her legs, feeling vulnerable and exposed in more ways than one.
A guttural grunt sounded from behind her, and his breathing quickened. Getting into the highly erotic moment, she tilted her bottom against him, eliciting a groan from Patrick that nearly brought her to her knees. Her eyes rolled heavenward. Oh yes . . . Now was definitely not the time to be self-conscious.
Patrick wanted her, her, with the much-too-large ass, hips, and thighs. Her, with the freckles she’d always hated, and wished she could be rid of. He didn’t care, and in fact, seemed to enjoy her curves, and oh boy, did he feel amazing as he entered her moist and ready heat. She shivered, as his hands grasped her ass and squeezed.
“Bend all the way over, baby, and put your chest against the table. I want to be deep inside you, Emma.”
The needy, sexy ache in his voice sent her further over the edge as she bent over, until her cheek and breasts made contact with the cool surface. He rubbed her bottom while he continued to move his hands up her back, until he reached her neck and lightly blew a kiss there.
Then he grasped her ass, and spread her wider before he entered her, and oh my. His cock shot red-hot pinpricks through her body, and the angle hit her G-spot, hard.
Sucking in a breath, he eased his hands upward and palmed her breasts, cupping the tender flesh. He toyed with her nipples, shooting a deep ache through her.
“Oh, you feel amazing, Patrick. Please fuck me. Fuck me . . .” Her toes pressed against the soft carpeting.
Quickly, almost too quickly, she felt the stirrings of another orgasm, reaching her second peak much too fast. As if reading her mind, Patrick tightened his hold on her hips and let out a ferocious growl before he climaxed, releasing himself inside her.
“Oh, Emma, my God.” He reached completion, but didn’t withdraw right away, as if content to be exactly as they were.
Fearing she’d fall over if she moved the slightest inch, she remained where she was. Body ground to mush, limbs like a limp noodle.
He withdrew, and she stood, turning to face him. What little breath she had left her body. He palmed her face within his hands and rested his forehead against hers. “That was incredible, Emma.”
She smiled a watery smile, unsure of what to say so she said the first thing that popped into her mind. “I can’t believe we did that.”
A hearty chuckle made his chest vibrate against hers. The sweat there intermingled with her own, and she never wanted to leave this damned room, and in fact, she wanted him all over again.
“Believe it, babe.”