Micah

I’d brewed a cup of tea, taken all the children’s aspirin from the office first-aid cabinet, and wolfed down a quick salad that was anything but the requisite last meal a prisoner deserved before facing the execution squad.

Tonight, they’d announce my death with three simple words.

Butterpond Monthly Meeting.

Tonight was a special night for the residents of Butterpond. A time when they’d stand me before a squad of township busybodies who thought the municipality shared the same executive duties as the White House.

Once a month, the floor opened to the disheartened and irritable citizens who felt taunting, jeering, and generally mocking their elected and appointed representatives would more readily fill potholes and mow easements. Meetings were three-hour extravaganzas of grievances between neighbors and a public venue for the more outspoken to speak about the causes which troubled them—mostly issues of dog residue, a petition to limit one birdfeeder per household, and a yearlong property dispute aggravated by the placement of a neighbor’s garbage cans.

The agenda should have read Small-Town Schizophrenia—A One-Act Play, but no one in Butterpond ever paid attention to the scheduled order of events anyway. Meetings had become a blood-thirsty, survival of the fittest, comedy of errors, beginning not with a gavel against the podium but after Widow Barlow cracked Councilman David’s knuckles with her cane.

I wasn’t an optimistic person, but I still hoped this meeting would end early, before Mayor Desmond had an opportunity to settle matters like men with Sheriff Samson in the parking lot.

Only one thing could make the night more of a pain in the ass.

And he didn’t even knock outside my office. Just barged right in.

Julian Payne slammed the door behind him and glared at me with those dire green eyes. As if I were the asshole intruding on the precious few minutes I had left before I’d get clobbered by Roberts Rules of Order.

“Cowboy.”

“Princess.”

I crossed my arms. Great. Now I’d wrinkle the lovely red dressed I’d ordered from Ironfield. I’d paid a premium for the down-homey yet professionally approachable outfit. Ruffling the material would not soften public sentiment for me. Though a roll of twenties stuffed down my bra would have done more to bribe my way to job security.

“How’s it going?” Julian smirked.

“And here I thought this bad day couldn’t get worse.”

Julian’s teasing smile wasn’t meant to be inviting. He patted his hands against his jeans. Dusty, but not dirty. A streak of grease swept from his mid-thigh towards his temptingly tight ass. The white t-shirt was clean, stretched over his muscles. The thin material outlined his tanned abs and pecs.

It wasn’t fair that this loathsome creature was also the sexiest man I’d ever seen.

“You wanna talk a bad day?” He pulled out the seat opposite my desk.

“Not particularly.”

He ignored me, scratching the dark scruff on his hardened jaw. “Got a call today from the property tax collector.”

“Oh?”

“Seems they’re interested in my deceased father’s past tax filings. Just want to ensure accuracy.” He leaned in, tapping my desk. “So I spent the morning buried in paperwork, wondering to myself…there’s no way some little pain in the ass from the zoning office called the tax collector in retaliation for a simple misunderstanding, is there?”

He’d called me a whore. That wasn’t a misunderstanding, it was a declaration of war.

“The county always strives for accuracy,” I said.

“You had me audited?”

“All accounting issues are the prerogative of the tax collector.”

“Oh, princess, you just made a big mistake.”

I didn’t have time for this. I shooed his hands away from the seven different multi-paged reports I had neatly arranged on my desk—reports I had to print ten different times from a copier that jammed every three sheets of paper because the council had yet to learn how to open an email attachment.

“Just send Janice a proof of payment,” I said. “She’s harmless.”

“Well, I’m not.”

Twenty minutes till the meeting was not a time to start with me. “We have nothing to discuss here.”

“You haven’t heard the best part of my day yet.”

“I’m not interested.”

Julian leaned back, kicking his muddy shoes onto my desk. “My day started when my sister guilted me into visiting my Navy SEAL brother in the hospital. Neither of us were happy to see the other. He kicked me out of his room with his one remaining leg after threatening to club me with his prosthetic. It’s a really advanced prosthetic, but I don’t think that new leg can walk his ass back to the Middle East. Fortunately, I made peace with the nurses before we were both thrown out of the hospital.”

I pretended to ignore him as I shuffled papers. “Sounds like a fun time.”

“Then I came home to news of an audit, which I should thank you for—I was looking for some bullshit to help fertilize my fields. I’ll just rip that letter up and scatter it over the corn.”

“Hope you have a bountiful harvest.”

“Hard to do that without a barn.”

Poor thing. “Yes, I’d imagine so.”

He flipped through the folders cluttering my desk then glanced to the overflowing cabinets bordering both walls. Plans, maps, and large-scale drawings littered every available space and ledge, including the once-organized bankers’ boxes that held old surveys and property lines I’d committed to scanning into a digital database. Unfortunately, the papers had crept beyond their temporary holding cells and now crowded the legal books and resource manuals I’d meant to organize.

“You know I have three other brothers?” he asked.

“Word spreads around the town.”

Julian frowned. “None of them want this farm. Not like me.”

He’d settled in, patting the arms of the chair. I gave up on my papers and sighed.

“Tidus…” He shook his head. “He’s the type who isn’t happy unless he’s in trouble. Know anyone like that?”

I stared at him. “Yeah. I’m getting quite familiar with that sort of man.”

“He’s never liked the farm—had problems with our dad for years. Just wants to sell, get the money, and leave town on some self-destructive binge.” He frowned. “And my brother, Varius. He used to be the minister.”

Hadn’t expected that, but I only nodded.

“Times got tough,” he said. “And Varius turned hard. Now, nothing’s worth saving to him—not his soul, not the farm. And Quint, my youngest brother. He’d tear the whole farmhouse down, plank by plank, if I hadn’t hidden the sledgehammer. Thinks the farm is the cause of all the bad blood.”

I shrugged. “What do they realize that you don’t?”

“Nothing. We’re all jackasses. No one knows what to do.” Julian smirked. “Well, except my little sister. She’s the type who thinks all we need is a little elbow grease and a song in our hearts, and the farm will get rebuilt with the help of all the little woodland critter assholes who keep trying to eat my only goddamned chicken.”

I hid my smile. “One chicken?”

“No barn.”

Right. “So why is your sister so optimistic?”

“Cause she’s the only one getting laid in the family.”

Christ, I could relate. “Sorry, cowboy. Can’t help you there.”

“You’re not helping me at all, princess.”

“My heart is breaking for you,” I said. “I put in the extra effort. You’re the one who screwed it up.”

He disagreed with a snort. “You won’t take my calls. Won’t answer my emails.”

And I was trying so damned hard to forget the bastard even existed. His constant calls, and the town’s obsession with the Paynes, made him impossible to ignore. Especially last night when I woke too early from an unsatisfying dream with his name on my lips and my hand in my panties.

I straightened in the chair, assuming an authority he’d ultimately question. “Our business was concluded.”

“When?”

“When you called me a whore to my face.” I stood and gestured him to the door, hoping he’d take the not-so-subtle hint.

Julian didn’t move. “You still mad about that?”

“Still mad that I took a chance to talk to a charming farmer at the bar? Still mad that I thought I could open up about my job and responsibilities and problems to a sympathetic listener? Still mad that that only man in this town who cared enough to talk about my profession assumed that I was selling my body?” I crossed my arms. “Yeah. I’m still mad.”

Julian didn’t apologize. “Take it as a compliment.”

“Being a whore?”

“That you’re so goddamned beautiful that just sitting at a bar you exude sex.”

I pointed to the door. “Get out of my office.”

Julian grinned. “Maybe I should roll you around in the mud again. Might loosen you up.”

“Excuse me?”

“You wanna walk around this town with a stick up your ass, then you better watch for splinters.” He winked. “Or ask around for something better to sit on.”

The insults kept coming. “You have no right to speak to me like that.”

“You want a pain in the ass, beautiful? Fine. You’ve only got yourself to blame.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Means you’re the only one preventing me from getting what I want.”

Great. A head as hard as his cock. “Sure, it’s my fault that three years ago the municipality passed an ordinance codifying the building and zoning regulations. I’m just enforcing the rules. Don’t shoot the messenger.” I scowled. “Don’t flirt with her either.”

Julian hummed as he stepped a little too close. “I’ll make it easy for you. I want my barn.”

“And I want an alt-rock band to play at the county fair, but guess what? We’re both getting Bupkis.”

He frowned, confused. I sighed.

“That’s a polka band that plays every year,” I said. “Point is, there’s nothing I can do for you. We’re both screwed.”

He met my gaze. “Maybe that’s just what you need.”

Oh, hell no. I must not have heard him correctly. “What?”

His eyebrow waggle was entirely inappropriate. “Know what your problem is, princess?”

“Right now, it’s you.”

“You’re strutting around this office on a power trip.”

No, I was strutting around the office on a pair of four-inch heels that would make my toes bleed by the end of the monthly meeting. “I think you’ve been in the sun too long, cowboy.”

“And you’ve been inside this building for too long, thinking you’re hot shit just because you have the authority to sign off on a little paper that determines a man’s livelihood.”

“You can assume what you want about me, but I’m adhering to the legal regulations.”

“A girl like you always follows the rules, huh?”

I gritted my teeth. “That’s my job.”

“Day in and day out. Following the rules. Playing it safe. Living by…what was it? A defined life plan?” He actually laughed at me. “You’re so fucking stiff I should toss some ice cubes down your shirt and serve you in a tumbler.”

“Very funny.”

“You have a sense of humor?”

“When appropriate.”

“Well, you either find it hilarious to deny me my application—”

I interrupted him with a nod. “—It’s getting that way—”

“Or you get some other delight out of it.”

I huffed. “Like what?

“You like the power. The control. You’re getting off on rejecting these applications…” His glance over my curves struck me like a spank. “If you get off at all.”

This conversation was over. “I’ll make you a deal. I’ll get off the instant you get out.”

“That eager, huh?” His voice warmed with a laugh. “Been that long?”

“Excuse me?”

“Your secret will be safe with me, princess. How long’s it been?”

I crossed my arms. “Since what?”

“Since the Queen of Sawyer County authorized herself to get laid by a mason?” Julian’s green eyes flashed impish. “Nailed by a carpenter?”

“You’re such a—”

“When did you last get those pipes cleared by a plumber?”

How dare he?

Of all the abrasive, inappropriate, vulgar things to ask.

I expected nothing less from a bastard like Julian Payne, but was civil discourse so offensive to this man that he had to reduce every conversation to sex?

“I am not answering that.” Could he even hear me through my gritted teeth? “Ever.”

His laugh rolled over me, hot and heavy. “That long, huh?”

“It makes absolutely no difference to your application.”

“Makes all the difference.” He faced me, leaning against my desk as if I’d invited his ass to plunk down in the middle of my life. “Don’t hate the world cause you’re not getting any.”

The prick. “And you’re such a Casanova?”

“No one’s complained.”

“And how many of Butterpond’s finest have you bedded, cowboy?”

“Not nearly enough to warrant that sort of hostility.” He shrugged. “I have discriminating tastes.”

“Yeah, right.” I narrowed my eyes. “Probably hard to roll in the hay when you’ve got no barn.”

He had no reason to brag, yet he did. “I make do.”

“Your hand doesn’t count.”

“Neither does your showerhead, princess.”

I seethed. “Like you know anything about pleasuring a woman.”

He grinned. “Like you’ve ever been properly pleasured.”

Asshole.

My chest tightened, but I accidentally broke the stare first.

Who the hell was this man to think he could barge into my office, insult my appearance, my lifestyle, my lovelife, and then expect me to do him a favor?

Julian Payne was a giant dick with no foreplay.

And he could kiss my ass.

I should have called security. Should have kicked him out myself—my foot, his balls, and all of Butterpond lining up for the monthly meeting to see it.

Instead, I thrust a finger into his chest and poked. Hard. “You know what I think?”

“You’re avoiding the question.”

“You’re damn right I am,” I said. “I will not be lectured by some home-grown, down-on-the-farm, one-dimpled pain in the ass who thinks he knows anything about my personal life.”

“Ouch.”

“That excess of testosterone must come from somewhere,” I said. “And I’m willing to bet it’s an empty bed at night.”

“That so?” he asked.

“I can’t imagine any woman dumb enough to share your sheets.”

“I don’t like my women dumb. But I also don’t like mouthy little brats who think a fancy office with a window entitles them to their mismanaged authority.”

And I was done with the jerk. “You’re not as cute as you think you are, Mr. Payne. You can’t waltz in here and demand whatever your wizened little heart desires because you’ve got a good smile and a farmer’s tan.”

This wasn’t a man whose vanity allowed him to be insulted. He held my stare as he yanked his t-shirt up over his pecs. That made it entirely too difficult to peek at his rippling chest and golden tan.

“No farmer’s tan here. The shirt comes off when I sweat. I’d demonstrate, but I doubt you could contain your lust.”

I laughed. “Oh, so now I’m worthy of the Julian Payne Sextravangza?”

“Hell no. You’re a pain in the ass little ice princess who should’ve gotten laid ages ago, before you froze yourself inside that shell.”

Like he knew anything about me.

Or how long it’d been since I’d scheduled time for physical intimacy.

Or any intimacy.

“This shell doesn’t crack for just any man,” I said.

“Just gotta bite hard, princess.”

I dared to approach him, regretting the dizzying breath that enveloped me in his scent. He smelled golden, like sunshine and fresh leaves and the heat of a body warmed by hard work. The deliciousness twisted in my chest.

He looked that good, smelled that good…

Would he taste that good?

I sputtered over my words. “You couldn’t handle me, cowboy. Don’t even think about it.”

His smirk lashed through me. “I’d break you in half.”

“You wouldn’t last five minutes.”

“Neither would you.”

And now I knew he was lying. “Little cocky, aren’t you?”

“Nothing little about it.”

He stepped forward, invading any pretense of personal space and forcing me to look up to see him.

Every inch of him. Solid muscle. Unrepentant arrogance.

Core-clenching seductiveness.

My mouth dried. “You’re so full of it.”

“Maybe I should fill you up too.”

His voice had darkened to a heated promise, but I tasted the mockery. Indignity choked me with rage and insult, and yet my hands trembled with something far more thrilling than simply slapping the bastard across the cheek like he deserved. The furious heat tangled deep inside me.

Binding me. Enraging me. Aching in me.

Why did this man fluster me so badly? How was he able to destroy every professional defense I’d woven around myself? Decorum. Authority. Neutrality.

Even worse, I was fighting with him in my office. He’d exposed me, enraged me, and bubbled me into a molten core of disrespect, retaliation, and something far worse.

Desire.

“And then what?” I asked. “Go ahead. Stuff me. Then what, cowboy?”

Julian wasn’t a man to tease. Or challenge. “I’d fuck you so hard you’d forget your name, your job, why you’re here, what you’re doing, and why you ever fought to deny me anything I’d want.”

Nothing had ever sounded so utterly vulgar.

Or so goddamned enthralling.

“You want the barn that badly?” I asked.

His expression darkened, intense and confident. “No. Now I want something else.”

“What’s that?”

“You. Moaning my name with your legs spread.”

“Just cause you’re cocky doesn’t mean the equipment is impressive.”

Julian called my bluff. “All you gotta do is ask, princess. I’ll fuck the fun into you.”

“Asshole.”

“We can try it there.”

Why did that excite me? “You’re such a bastard.”

“How wet are you right now?”

“And how hard are you?”

“Why don’t you give it a tug. Tell me what you think?”

“I think you should leave.”

“Liar,” he said.

Fury roared through me, superheated and shivering. “Jerk.”

He smirked. “Priss.”

“Prick.”

“Brat.”

“Pain in the ass.”

Julian encroached, his whisper a dark and delicious warning. “Wannabe whore.”

I saw red.

And heat.

And rage.

And a wall of muscle strengthened by sex, desire, and ferocity.

I leapt forward, arm outstretched to slap him across his chiseled jaw. He trapped my wrist before I grazed the roughened scruff of his cheek.

How many mistakes could I make in a single heartbeat?

Just one, and it’d be the worst of my life.

Did I collapse into him, or did Julian pull me into his embrace?

Did it matter?

Our bodies locked together in a sudden fury. Arms tangled. Chests melded.

And lips…

Parted. Opened. Panting.

I launched onto my tip-toes and groaned into his kiss.

I hated this man—this cocky, self-serving, arrogant beast of a man who spoke vulgarities and kissed like divine lust. My fingers curled into his shirt, stretching at the white cotton, grinding against the hard muscle beneath my hands.

I’d never wanted a man more.

Never wanted to be rid of him more.

Never wanted to feel anyone closer, hotter, deeper.

The crazed heat scorched through me, surging from my fingertips to my toes and striking every neglected part in between. I nibbled on his bottom lip, a warning bite more to myself as a desperate whimper humiliated me.

Julian gripped me hard, spinning me away from my desk and walking me backwards, a kiss for each step, until my back struck against my office wall. A dozen files fell from the cabinet, the papers fluttering at our feet. I ignored them, gripping his neck, his shoulders, his chest.

I’d never been kissed so roughly. Every swipe of his tongue, every squeeze of his hands along my curves was a dire warning of passion and desire.

Julian Payne didn’t fuck around, he just fucked. Rough and demanding. Crazed. His body hardened in every delightful way under my fingers. He clawed at my skirt, tugging it higher and pawing at my dark skin beneath. The heat from his fingers teased my curves with sharp agony. I wiggled, desperate to shift the dreadful panties away from the slickening part of me so eager for his touch.

And yet…

I thunked my hand against the light switch. My office plunged into darkness.

Julian’s grunt shivered through me. “No lights?”

“It’s a meeting night. No sense giving a show to anyone who wanders by.”

His rasping breathing preceded another harsh kiss. “What if I wanted to look at you?”

I was many things, but forgiving wasn’t one of them. “Think I’d give you that privilege?”

“So I can fuck you, but I can’t see you?”

“Lucky I’m even facing you.” I nipped his lip. “Kissing you.” I welcomed the slice of his tongue. “Humoring you.”

“You act like you don’t want this.”

“You act like you deserve it.”

His frown mixed indignation and lust. “I’ll have you screaming my name.”

I smirked. “And I’ll forget you by morning.”

“Then I better make sure you remember who I am.”

“A bastard?”

“A bastard who will make you come harder than you thought possible…”

Julian dropped to his knees. My skirt jerked up, panties ripped down, and he dove between my legs. In the darkness, his shadow moved close, forcing my legs apart and gripping my hips.

“You better hold on, princess. You’re gonna get a little dirty again.”

My shudder betrayed me.

So did my slit. My wetness. The breathy, lip-biting groan that whimpered from my throat.

I’d never done anything so reckless, so unbelievably erotic in my life. And I’d certainly never had a man like Julian before.

Though I should’ve been proud to be so discerning. What sort of man knew how to please a woman like this?

His tongue flicked over my most sensitive and damning of places. Up and down. Side to side. In and out. Every swipe drew another shaking breath from my lips. Every little nibble of my silky petals tightened that trouble-making core that would have me humiliate myself in front of this man.

Worse.

On this man.

The intensity coiled inside me. Tight and wanting and relentless in his constant, unwavering licks to my clit. I tangled my fingers in his hair, trying to push him away as the constant pressure pounded me. Harder. Faster. Hotter.

He slurped. Terrible, embarrassing, degrading noises that only wetted me more. The slickened sounds echoed his harsh growls. This man feasted on me. One solid lick and grunt before he buried his face in my slit and crashed me against the wall.

Christ, what if someone had heard?

Seen?

Walked in.

The municipal center would be filling with people, all eager to witness the bloodbath. I was supposed to be setting up my spot on the dais. Handing out papers. Doing my job.

Instead my knees were weak, legs spread, and I was one suckle of my clit away from orgasming on a stranger’s face.

No. Not a stranger. God, I’d have some dignity left if this man were still a stranger.

Julian Payne was a prick. An asshole. Hell, every terrible part of the body and worse. But he was also the only man in the world who understood how to use a tongue like a cock and stroke me to dizzying heights.

But the bastard was better than I’d expected. Sexier than I’d hoped. And that meant the crushing orgasm would be every bit a proclamation of war as it would be the greatest pleasure of my life.

Julian chuckled, teased my clit with a flat-tongued lick, and pulled away just before I crested that desire. He waited on his knees, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

I nearly crumbled, my breath short. “You’re a real son of a bitch, aren’t you?”

“You better ask for it, princess.”

Hell no. “You better beg me, Cowboy.”

“I don’t need it that bad.”

The monstrous bulge in his pants said otherwise. “Me either.”

“Yes, you do.” Julian stood, his body a wall of muscle that I longed to taste. “You’re squirming. Aching. Tell me how much you need me or it stops now. Bet you’d hate that.”

“I’m used to disappointment—I work for the government.”

“I know you want me.”

More than any other man, and I’d hate myself for it. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“I know everything important.” He didn’t let me speak, capturing me in a kiss as he grabbed my legs, hoisted me up, and pressed me against the wall. My legs wove around him as if we’d done this a hundred times before. But I wasn’t that lucky—just insane with pleasure. “I know it’s been forever since you came. Even longer since you got fucked. And I know you’re going to love how this feels.”

I gripped his shoulders as he released himself from his jeans. A glance down revealed everything I’d feared and wondered and wanted.

Julian was a monster of a prick in more ways than one.

His head slipped against my slit, wet and waiting. He was delightfully, imposingly huge. Impossibly built. Every rub of his head threatened my clit with yet another cascade of shivers. The pressure built. More and more. Higher and higher. Threatening me with shame and excitement. I’d climb over this man just to sink down upon him, but Julian took his damn time.

Enjoying me?

Well, seeing as it was the only time I’d ever let the loathsome creature touch me, he had cause to savor my body.

“Know what your problem is, princess?” He whispered, the head of his cock pressing at my slit. “You need to loosen up.”

“Think so?”

“And I’m just the man to stretch you out.”

My patience wore thin. “Shut up and fuck me.”

“Shut up and take it.”

With pleasure.

Not that I’d ever let him know. But with a piercing, raging strike into my pussy, Julian learned everything. Even a man this conceited could tell when his cock delivered a woman the single greatest pleasure of her life. He wasn’t gentle, but my only demand was that he fill me up and do it right.

Julian read my mind. Or maybe my hips. With a single thrust, he rammed into me. I lost control of every thought, breath, and inhibition as that raging cock stretched me to the brim and more. His entire uncompromising length conquered me with blinding pressure.

“How’s that?” Julian pressed in to the hilt, pinning me between him and the wall and grinding his hips to ensure I stuck. “Feel good?”

The sort of good that transcended reason and civility and delighted me with sheer insanity. I’d never felt so taken, so full and stuffed and thoroughly conquered by a thick length of flesh, pulsing in lust. He didn’t fit inside me, but he didn’t stop. Hell, I wouldn’t have allowed him to pull that bare cock out of my quivering folds.

The heat seared me, every velvet inch of his cock pulsed with warmth and a masculine threat. I couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe.

Why was the biggest, most thrilling cock in this world attached to Julian Payne?

“Go ahead. Pretend you don’t want me…” Julian bit my neck. A wave of shivers jolted my spine and centered in the fire pulsing from my core, already stoked by his thickness. “It’ll help you sleep tonight…so you can dream of me.”

I twisted my fingers into his shirt. “Think I’ll be that unfulfilled?”

His movements were slow. Deliberate. Striking so deep and hard that I was shattered against the wall.

How loud were the thuds? How harsh was my breathing?

Oh God, anyone in the building could tell what we were doing.

What I was doing.

Getting the fuck of my life in my office like a common whore.

“You’re gonna be more than fulfilled…” Julian delighted in my quaking body, pulling out until the thickest part of his cock tormented my entrance. With a grunt, he slammed back inside of me. “You’re going to the meeting tonight filled with me.”

“Can’t take you out there with me…” I arched an eyebrow. “Better be quick…or quicker than your usual.”

“A couple minutes is all I need.” His thrusts hardened, but so did my breath, my heartbeat, the clenching of everything inside me. “I want you standing out there tonight thinking of me, of how good I fucked you, of how tonight I owned every fucking inch of you.”

I smirked. “You think I’ll even give a damn about you once you’re done?”

“When I make a mess of you, you’ll remember. Your pussy is gonna be soaked. Your panties ruined. Your thighs slick.” He seized my hips, forcing himself in even farther, until my breath ached and muscles tensed in delight. “I’m not pulling out, princess.”

Then I finally had a justification for my pill. “Think I’d let you go that easy?”

Julian growled. “Every step you take tonight, you’ll feel me. Slick. Hot. You’re gonna think about this cock. When you sit down, you’re gonna feel it. When you go home tonight to rub that clit, all messy with my cum, you’re gonna want me again.”

I bounced my own hips against him, dragging the words through a shuddering gasp. “Even you think I’ll have to get off again tonight.”

“You have my phone number.”

“And you have two big heads.”

My mind jumbled as he pounded into me. I slammed against the wall, again and again and again. How many times could he bottom out inside my aching pussy? I fought the pleasure, fought that clenching desire, but he dragged my hips harder against his raging thrusts. Biting my lip did nothing. Closing my eyes only brought me closer to that infinite oblivion. I clutched at his arms as every strike centered hard and fast inside my tormented, delighted core.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

I’d never, ever given myself to a man after so little time, respect, and thought. Never once let myself get swept into the arms of a stranger and filled with his magnificent cock. Never let a man I hated pin me against the wall and fuck my swollen, hungry pussy again and again.

I never let a man threaten to come inside me.

Never let a man take me so thoroughly before.

Never let a man get this close.

I’d never even let a man give me an orgasm before. Not that they hadn’t tried. Not that I’d never been willing. But surrendering that control? Offering that part of me, so secret and sacred and vulnerable?

Julian was right. It had been forever since I’d come, but not for the reason he’d thought. I never let a man get close enough to learn what pleasured me. So how did he understand everything I needed? Why did he grind his hips and push me against the wall and fill me in that dizzying, savage way that I never knew I’d wanted?

At least I’d only make this mistake with Julian Payne. After tonight, I’d be rid of him.

And no one would ever know.

My breathing gave me away, every exhale shadowed with a quaking whimper. Julian snickered, pushing inside me and leaning down, his lips teasing my ear.

“Wanna come, princess? Go on. I’m waiting for you.”

“You want to be done that quick?”

“I’m a gentleman. Ladies first.”

“You think you’re doing that good?”

His quick, lust-crazed thrusts proved it. He buried himself inside of me, laughing as I trembled and shook in his arms.

“I can make you come whenever I want…” His words teased, dark and haunting. “Whenever I demand it. And I want it now, Micah. Hold onto me. Wrap those legs around me. Surrender to this fucking cock.”

“I don’t surrender.”

“You already did.” He gripped my hips with a new fury and thrust deeper inside, his pacing never slowing, his gaze never breaking. “You begged me with that silky little pussy. Look at it, sucking me in, clenching down on me.”

I didn’t want to see it, but I peeked anyway. The image would cost me dearly in water bills, but I’d never recreate anything as sexy with my showerhead. My dark legs wrapped over him. The pale strike of his cock disappeared inside my folds. A jagged, desperate, forceful conquest. Black and white. Thick and petite. Muscle and curves.

It was too much. Too much to see how he manhandled me. How wet it made me. How strong he was, how little my body looked, how hard he fucked…

“Hate me all you want…” Julian groaned with me. “But no man is gonna make you come like this ever again.”

Oh, I hated that he was right.

Hated him. Loathed him. Despised him.

And came so hard on his cock I nearly wrenched in two. My body tensed in the most spine-shattering, muscle-rending orgasm of my life. The shock drove through me, curling my toes and tensing my legs over his waist. The sensations tortured me.

One.

Two.

Three.

Wave upon wave of shameful delight tore my mind and burst my thoughts in a rage of astonishment and vulgar excitement.

I came.

Hard. Unforgiving.

And my pleasure triggered his.

With a rasping growl and bite to my throat, Julian embedded himself in me to the hilt.

Then he spilled every last drop of his pleasure inside me.

The heat splashed within me—a sensation so foreign, so overwhelming my own desire quickened once more. I arched and bucked my hips, milking his orgasm while demanding a second of my own. The quick pop of his cock delivered that and more.

And when the pleasure turned to an ache, when my thoughts and breathing and sanity slowly dulled and my senses returned, I collapsed between him and the wall. Wishing—praying—that when I opened my eyes, I would be in the arms of any man but Julian Payne.

No such luck.

Damn it.

I slid from him with a cleared throat and spots my vision.

He was right. I was a mess. Sticky and slippery and delighted by the sensation. Sweat tickled my neck, but it coated his forehead. He wiped it away with a grin and jerked his still-hard cock two more times. Only a drop coated his fingers. The rest slicked the inside of me.

Oh. My. God.

I straightened my dress and checked my watch.

“Oh, no…” I spun, flicking the lights back on. My panties were gone. “I have five minutes until the meeting.”

Julian adjusted his jeans. Within an instant, he looked perfectly innocent. Damn him

“Good timing,” he said.

“No. Very bad timing.” My papers had scattered over the desk. I hurriedly recovered the messy files and stacked the folders on the desk. “Where…”

“What?”

“Where are my…”

A knock would have shattered the office door. I turned with a yelp. My hands grabbed a fistful of my skirt and yanked it lower, nearly pulling it off my waist.

Oh God. Was it obvious that I’d just gotten the fuck of my life?

Where the hell were my panties?

Sharon, the receptionist, stuck her head in the office. The woman was already flustered, and the meeting hadn’t even started yet. She rapped against the doorframe and shook her head, the newly dyed red awfully fancy for a monthly meeting.

“Well, the great heads for coleslaw are here.” She pushed into the office and made a beeline for the jar of candy sitting on my filing cabinet. With a frustrated groan, she helped herself to a mini-Milky Way. “You better get out there. Got a full house in the audience, and the council is ready to declare war on Henderson Road.” She stopped and patted Julian’s arm. “How you doing, Jules? How’s your poor brother?”

Julian winked at me. “Doing much better now.”

“Glad to hear it. When Kathy told me what happened to Marius, we were just sick.” Sharon wagged a finger at me. “Now, Micah. You give Jules here whatever he wants. Payne family deserves it.”

“Oh, she’s given me plenty tonight,” he said.

Sharon pointed to the stack of files on my desk. “I’ll take these out. Christ save us if I miss a second of the meeting for the minutes. Donny DeBlasio turns into Chairman Mao the instant he’s given a gavel.”

I didn’t manage a word before Sharon nicked the folders and a second piece of candy and hurried back to the meeting room.

I let my breath out in a frantic huff and dove under the desk.

The council was unbearable on most nights. I couldn’t face them without panties.

…And stuffed so goddamned full of Julian’s searing hot seed.

“So…” Julian didn’t help me search. “Do I get the barn now?”

I jerked upwards in shock, cracking my head against the desk. Even a concussion wouldn’t convince me that approving an unapprovable application was a good idea.

I laughed. “Now who’s the whore?”

“Give me the barn, and I’ll stop by after the meeting. Tuck you in tonight.”

“Oh sure.” I rolled my eyes. “Maybe the encore will last more than a couple minutes.”

“You want me to go all night?”

“I just want you to go.”

He didn’t move. “That’s the thanks I get for giving you the greatest orgasm of your life?”

“You think that was the best?”

“You’re a liar, princess, but you’re not good at it.”

The shock wore off. Wish it had lasted longer. Maybe then the shame wouldn’t have crippled me in guilty shivers. I ignored him and struggled to find my panties. Nowhere to be found. Not behind the desk. Not under the chairs.

Panic and humiliation didn’t blend well. I sucked in a breath that went nowhere.

“Where…” I stared at him, hating the question. “What did you do with my underwear?”

He grinned. “When?”

“When you removed them.”

“Before I fucked you senseless?”

“Yes.”

“I tossed them away. Then I put them on your desk while you were still…” He winked. “Recovering.”

“On my desk?”

“Yeah, by the files.”

My stomach dropped.

I stared at my desk, the piles of papers and books growing more and more unmanageable by the hour. I flung a few files to the side, but no panties peeped under the paperwork.

“Oh God…” I clutched my stomach. “Oh no.”

“What?”

“They aren’t here.”

“What do you mean?”

I pointed to the hall, to the packed meeting room, to the centralized location where all six of my bosses—elected and appointed—sat, searching through my files which would contain not only reports on new construction, a proposed amendment to our comprehensive plan, and a listing of every code enforcement violation…

…But now a pair of drenched, bright red panties, ripped off in the throes of passion.

“They’re…” I couldn’t even say it. “They’re out front.”

Julian had a bad habit of laughing at my misfortune. Joke was on him. This one spelled disaster for him too.

“You still want your barn?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he said.

“Then you better help me right now.”

“Why?”

My desire turned to dread. “Because I’m about to get fired.”