Chapter Fourteen
Tyler pressed her back against the desk. Her shirt had snaps, not buttons, and he tugged the fabric at her throat. Snap. Then across her chest. Snap. Her stomach. Snap. All the way down.
His lips brushed her ear. “Do you still want me to go?”
He was terrible, a tease. But Abbi wasn’t going to push him away.
“Russ might still be in the parking lot, having a smoke.”
It was the flimsiest excuse and Tyler laughed, low and mocking, in her ear. “Guess we’ll have to find a way to entertain ourselves.” He pulled her shirt over her shoulders so her arms were pinned. She squirmed against him, trying to get out of her bonds, excitement coursing through her when she couldn’t.
He held her arms in place as he used his teeth to yank down the cups to her bra. “Look at you,” he murmured, taking in the sight of her nipples hardening at the promise of his tongue.
She arched her back, legs kicking against the desk. She couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything but whimper as he brought his mouth roughly to her breasts. She was helpless as he held her there.
But it was such a different helplessness than what she’d felt with Russ. Than what she’d felt so often in the past.
She was the one who brought out this passion in Tyler, who filled him with need. She may have been pinned in place, but she had all the power here. The power to make him desperate, hungry. The power to make him crave.
He unbuttoned her jeans and yanked them down. She’d barely stepped out of them before he took her in one arm and roughly turned her, bending her over the desk.
Abbi let out a whimper. She needed this so badly, there was no way she could wait.
Come on, Tyler. Don’t always be the good guy. Go ahead and fuck me.
His hand snaked around her body, fingers under her underwear.
“Please,” she panted as he slid a finger inside her.
His forehead touched the back of her head and he groaned. “You’re so wet, Abbi. But I’m going to make you wetter.”
His finger hooked inside her, stroking firmly. It made her thighs tremble and her chest constrict. She bent forward, bracing herself against the desk, rising up on her toes to get him right…there. Yes. Oh God, yes. Did she think that, or did she say it aloud? She didn’t care.
He took off her blouse and pulled her underwear down. She was naked except for her bra, still hooked and twisted, doing nothing to hold in her breasts. He was fully clothed. She’d make a motion to even out the situation but it made her crazy to know she was going to be taken, that he couldn’t wait another second to be inside her.
She curled her fingers around the edge of the desk, waiting for the slide of his cock over her skin, the opening that would be both too much and not enough all at once…
And felt instead his hands on her hips tilting her all the way up and the press of his tongue, hot and wet, opening her from the inside.
Oh.
God.
Abbi was no ingénue. It wasn’t like she hadn’t been licked before. Her first time had been in Cash’s office, with a chair lodged against a door without a lock. It wasn’t like she didn’t know she liked it.
But she’d never been licked this way, bent over, so open and exposed. She’d never felt the heat of a wet tongue sliding from the aching bud of her clit along her soft folds and then all the way up to where his fingers spread her open for him.
She shuddered, trying to hold in her cry. She was afraid if she let herself go, she would scream. It didn’t matter that they were alone in the office, it was a thousand percent unlikely Russ was still hanging around in the parking lot, and they were off a dirt road so no one would hear. She still couldn’t give in, no matter how much giving in was exactly what she wanted.
She’d felt a different kind of helplessness than she’d ever known, and now she felt a different kind of fear. It scared her how good this felt. How could he do such a thing to her?
“Fuck me, Tyler,” she pleaded. “Just fuck me already.”
Not because what he was doing didn’t feel good. Because it felt too good. She was too naked, too open. She felt too close to him.
He slapped her ass, just straight up slapped it, and ran his thumb over her scorched skin.
“You’re going to get this wet for me and barely let me taste?”
This wasn’t the quick, rough fuck she’d thought she wanted, the kind that would make her heart race until it was over too soon, her orgasm so fast she might have missed it but for the residual trembling in her thighs.
This was him claiming every inch of her. Making her fall apart until she was limp, shaking. So that when he pressed his tongue somewhere she’d never expected a near-stranger’s tongue should go, she collapsed down, head on the desk, and conceded the fact that she was his. Anything he wanted to do to her, she was his.
At last she heard the crinkle of the condom and felt his cock skim over her skin and between her thighs, teasing her clit. She lay on the desk, up on her toes, legs spread. It was all she’d ever wanted. The pure and utter pleasure as he slid in.
She could feel the brush of the bottom of his T-shirt, the scratch of his pants against the back of her thighs. It reminded her that they were in her office, that technically anyone could walk in right now, that no matter how good this felt it was a quick fuck and nothing more…
And that was supposed to be what she wanted. It was all she usually wanted, ever since she’d tried so damn hard to make a man love her and lost herself completely.
But she squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to think about Cash or love or relationships or heartbreak or how something that felt this right could be over so soon. Not wanting to think about anything at all.
She was going to have bruises where his hands held her hips as he thrust. She wanted to have bruises. She wanted him to mark her, claim her. She needed proof that this was real, something she could look at in the mirror the next day, and the next, to know what they had done.
“Can you come?” he asked, but all she did was whimper. He took that as a yes. “Come on my cock,” he said. “You want to be fucked, then come on my cock.”
So help her, the way Tyler talked made everything tighten at his command. He must have been able to feel it, because he thrust harder, telling her again and again to come, until there was nothing for her to do but surrender.
Russ used to tell her when to come, but as though she were a change machine—he just had to stick his dick in and orgasms came out. Tyler had worked for this one. He’d earned it. Hell, she’d worked for it, letting it build and then pulling back, not giving up her pleasure too soon.
She couldn’t hold on any longer. She arched her back to meet him, keeping him firmly over the spot too deep for fingers, too deep for his tongue, perfect for his cock alone. Until the tension broke like a wave and she came.
She was still feeling the contractions when he tightened his grip on her hips. His cry as he filled her was low, guttural, a moan of total abandonment as they pressed together, drawing out every last sensation.
Then he kissed his way across her shoulders. Pressed his forehead to her back. It was so sweet after something so dirty. All Abbi could do was close her eyes and feel her world spin.
She wished there was nothing between them, not clothes and certainly not work. She wished he was in her bed right now, that they were naked together, that she could turn in his arms and bury her face in the crook of his arm. She wanted to feel the warmth of him, the slick of sweat, rest her hand on his galloping heart and know it was because of her that it raced.
Instead, all she saw was the office, the mess of papers and books. The crack in the bookshelf where Russ had thrown the chair. The reminder that this was supposed to be a fake relationship to stop her career from tanking—no actual feelings involved.
It was too much reality at once.
Tyler slid out of her and grabbed a tissue from the box on her desk to wrap up the condom and throw it away. It was easy for him to pull up his boxers and pants and zip up again, as though nothing had happened.
Abbi still had to step into her underwear and jeans, fix her bra, get her shirt on again.
But even that happened disappointingly fast, no chance to linger close to him.
Her underwear was uncomfortably damp against her clammy skin. She longed for a shower with him, the hot water pounding over them. A short recovery before his hands were on her for round two.
God, what was making her think like this?
Abbi knew how to do one-night stands. Two nights, tops. A fuck in her office and a quick peck good-bye seemed like her usual speed. Nothing that lasted long enough for the guy to get too close, to discover the things she had done.
But nothing with Tyler followed the script she was used to. And she didn’t want it to. She couldn’t bear the thought of saying good night and going home alone. Even if that meant doing the scariest thing to happen this whole night.
“Tyler,” she said.
Her voice rang out in the silence between them.
“Yeah?”
She swallowed. “I owe you a shower at my place.”
“That was weeks ago.”
“The offer still stands.”
He stared at her for a beat. Then he shook his head. “You don’t owe me, Blue. I’ve got running water at home.”
So that was it. They really were just fucking.
And even then, it was only when they wound up stuck together with no other way to pass the time. Nothing they’d just done changed a thing about the firebreak. Or the fact that he was leaving what was starting to seem unbearably soon.
But if it was so soon, then how could she drop it, pretending she didn’t want more?
How could she miss that he was still standing there, that he hadn’t actually told her no?
She took a deep breath. If she wanted this, she was going to have to go for it—for real.
“Come home with me,” she said. “Have dinner with me. Shower with me. Fuck me again, because I want you to.” She bit her tongue, trying to read his expression. Was he about to tell her she had this all wrong?
But Tyler was grinning, dimples and all. “Well I’ll be damned. I was starting to think you’d never ask.”