Chapter 11
James should have felt guilty for saying something so crass, but he didn’t. All of a sudden it was imperative that he force Megan to admit what she wanted. Everything pointed to the fact that she was into him. She just didn’t know what to do about it. A heated gaze replaced her shock just before she bit into her pink lower lip.
To hell with it.
He didn’t wait for her response to his question before he pressed his lips to hers. He wanted her. There was no hiding that fact. And goddamn it, he was going to taste her like he’d been dying to do.
At first, she just stood there. But when he stepped a little closer and lifted his hand to cup the side of her face, she kissed him back.
Maybe it was because she should have been forbidden, or maybe it was because he just wanted her so much, but her mouth tangling with his was fucking delicious. She tasted so sweet, like honey against his tongue.
His kiss was demanding and possessive, and Megan’s quiet whimper had him pressing for more. He brought his hands to her waist, pulling her against him. God, she felt good. They were aligned from head to toe, and the heat from her tight, lithe body made all his blood rush to his cock.
He teased her lips apart, taking her bottom lip between his teeth. She gasped, moving her hand through the short hair at the back of his head.
Sliding his hand down the rounded curve of her ass, he squeezed. It was firm and tight in her black skirt, and it felt perfect in his palm.
He tore his lips away from her mouth and nibbled along her jawline. When he sucked on the fleshy hollow underneath her ear, she moaned and arched her back like a cat, pressing her breasts firmly against his chest.
“Oh, God,” she whimpered, her breath coming fast and hard.
He loved the way she purred. Loved the way she was rubbing against him like she was trying to fuse their bodies together.
Licking and sucking his way down her neck, he tasted a faint trace of salt. A lingering vanilla scent tickled his nose from the perfume she must have applied earlier that day. When he reached her shoulder, he wanted to sink his teeth into the taut muscle.
From the way she was grinding against him, he knew she was getting lost in her pleasure. She had no idea she was digging her nails into his scalp to the point of drawing blood, but he didn’t give a fuck. Megan could do whatever the hell she wanted to him.
“James…” His name fell from her tongue like a fervent prayer. The need and want in her voice made his erection strain against his zipper.
He was willing to bet she hadn’t been with anyone since her divorce. It was just a hunch based on how responsive she was to his touch.
She was on the verge of losing control, and fuck him, he wanted to push her over the edge. He’d give his left arm to see what an uninhibited Megan McKenna was like. Just as long as he was a lucky participant.
Doing all she could to get closer to him as he kissed her skin, she was practically crawling up his body. She rocked her hips into his thigh, trying to lift her knee along the outside of his leg. And she would have succeeded if it weren’t for her tight skirt. He hated that goddamn skirt.
Her hand timidly skimmed his ribs and stopped at the waist of his jeans. Fuck him, but he wanted her to rip at his clothes. To run her nails over his bare chest so hard that she’d leave scratch marks behind. He hated her timidity.
That motherfucker of an ex-husband probably sucked out all the confidence Megan had possessed. What she wanted and what she had been conditioned to do were two different things.
He dug his fingers into the stretchy fabric of her skirt and wrenched it up, baring her mile-long legs and those fucking gorgeous black garters. He wrapped his hands around her narrow waist and lifted her onto the top of a tool chest.
She sucked in an audible breath as her ass hit the cold metal. But James didn’t give her a second to think before he locked his lips to hers. The tool chest was the perfect height, and he could feel the heat from her pussy as he nestled between her thighs.
She whimpered into his mouth as he took the back of her head in his palm to pull her closer. Instead of wrapping her arms around his neck, her fingers went to work on the buttons of her cardigan. She leaned into him as she shrugged out of the red sweater, leaving her shoulders bare in only a thin tank top.
He broke their kiss, taking in her pink, swollen lips and her unfocused eyes. Her chest heaved as every one of her hurried breaths brushed up against his mouth. She looked so wanton, so wild. Like she was so far into her lust-filled haze that she couldn’t see where she was going.
He pulled both her camisole and bra strap off one shoulder and tugged them down her arm. The moment he cupped her bare breast in his palm, saliva flooded his mouth. It was perfect. Full, heavy, and tipped with a rose-colored nipple that was drawn up tight.
He flicked his thumb over the sensitive tip, and Megan let her head fall back with a breathy moan. He kneaded the soft flesh of her breast as if he were hypnotized. As if it were the first time he’d fucking seen a woman’s breast before.
His hand flexed, and he watched the way her pale skin pulled and bunched. The way the puckered nipple rolled between his thumb and forefinger. She arched her back, pushing the supple mound firmly into his palm.
Dipping his head, he covered the tip of her breast with his mouth. The contact made Megan jerk, sending the tool chest back a couple inches. Without leaving her breast, he slammed his foot down on the wheel brake of the chest.
She wasn’t going anywhere…at least not until he made her feel so good she forgot her name. So good that she’d never forget his.
He circled her nipple with his tongue, loving the way the firm tip dragged against it. He pushed her other strap down, baring and massaging her opposite breast. He sucked hard, pulling another whimper out of her before he resorted to flicking her pebbled nipple with his tongue.
“Oh, my God,” she moaned, pulling his head closer.
His erection was borderline painful as she pressed her hips against his pelvis. With one of his hands at her waist, her hips rolled back and forth in invitation. He moved his mouth to her other breast and smiled against her skin when he heard her hiss in pleasure.
He was sucking and nibbling so hard she might have bruises tomorrow. That wasn’t his original intention but the thought of marking her made his cock grow harder.
James let his hand wander south over her flat abdomen and past the tangle of clothes bunched around her waist. After brushing his fingers over her sexy-as-fuck garters, he moved to the apex of her thighs. He rubbed his knuckles down the folds of her sex over her black panties. At his first touch, she gasped and squeezed his skull between her fingers.
The silky material was hot and damp. Pulling his mouth from her breast, he growled, “Jesus, Megan. You’re so fucking wet already.”
“Don’t stop,” she panted.
He drew a circle around her clit. Megan sucked in a ragged breath and her eyes closed. James watched her eyelids flutter and her lips move silently with every brush of his thumb.
“I’m not stopping,” he promised. “I’m just getting started.”
He moved the thin fabric out of the way and slowly pushed a finger inside. She was warm and wet and so fucking snug that his knees almost buckled.
“James, James, James,” she moaned as her head fell back.
Never before had he been this turned on by foreplay. His breath was coming fast as he watched her writhe against his hand. He withdrew and plunged back in, loving the way her body pulled on his finger. All the while, she whimpered, her face tilted toward the ceiling.
He added a second finger and pressed his palm against her clit. She cried out at the contact.
“Please,” she keened. Her breathing had turned erratic, and he could tell from the tension in her body that she was close to losing it.
“Fuck, Megan, you’re beautiful,” he breathed.
He hadn’t meant to say that out loud. He didn’t know if she heard him, because after he’d uttered the words, her orgasm crashed down on top of her. Her body buckled forward, her mouth open in a muted cry.
James slowed his movements as her sex clamped around his fingers. She absently dragged a hand down his chest, and he knew if he hadn’t been wearing a T-shirt, she would have left scratches.
When he’d said she was beautiful, he’d meant it. Even in the throes of orgasm, as her body moved of its own volition, she was soft and graceful. The flush that bloomed over her body made her glow like a fading ember. As he watched, he saw her pleasure peak and slowly recede. It was like watching a fucking flower bloom.
Realizing he was holding his breath, he let out a shaky exhale. He was wound so tight that any touch from her might trigger him to shoot off like a horny teenager.
Slowly, Megan returned to earth. He withdrew his fingers and started to undo the zipper of his jeans. When she realized what he was doing, she immediately hurried to help him.
Even after her climax, she was eager and ready for more. Thank fuck.
Knowing he was primed, he pushed her hands aside, wanting complete control over anything remotely close to his dick. She didn’t seem to mind because she promptly started tugging his shirt up over his torso. After he managed to get his fly open, he tore the shirt over his head.
Before he could move closer, she planted her palms against his stomach. Her eyes, still clouded from her orgasm, scanned his body. She ran her fingers up his abdomen and over his chest.
James considered himself a fairly patient man, but even he had his limits. “You’re killing me, sweetheart,” he growled.
“I’m sorry,” she replied with a shy smile. “I just wanted to look at you.”
He smiled. “There’s a lot more to see.”
She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth again. He’d been fantasizing about this woman for weeks, and he wasn’t waiting any longer.
He crushed his mouth to hers, their teeth hitting, their tongues tangling. His hands were fisted in her hair as her nails scored his back.
He’d never felt this need before. It was an all-consuming, overpowering necessity to be inside her. Releasing her hair, he moved his hands to her hips and yanked her forward. One hand went to her panties to push them aside as his other hand went to free his erection from its painful confines.
Megan pulled her head away. “James, do you have a condom?”
He froze.
Her simple yet urgent question echoed in his head as if she’d just yelled it inside a mammoth cave. Instantly, he released both her panties and his boxer briefs and took a step back.
Jesus Christ. He’d almost had unprotected sex. What was the matter with him?
“James?” she asked, sitting up a little straighter and looking concerned.
He blinked as the shock rolled through him, followed by crushing disappointment.
No condom. Shit, damn, fuck!
He didn’t carry condoms in his wallet anymore. That had stopped back when he was married. There weren’t any condoms in his car either. He would venture a guess that his employees might have some stashed in their lockers, but he wasn’t about to go hunting for them.
But wait! Hope suddenly bloomed in his chest as he remembered something.
“I’ll be right back,” he told Megan before striding to his office.
After flipping on the lights, he skirted around his desk and pulled open his bottom drawer. It was where he stored most of his junk or things he didn’t know what the hell to do with. Fumbling furiously through the contents, he silently cursed himself for not keeping a more organized office. Finally, he found what he was looking for.
Last year for Christmas, Janie had implemented a secret Santa thing. On Christmas Eve, he’d come into his office to find a square five-by-five-inch green tin with a red bow on top. He was expecting cookies, but when he opened it he was surprised to see the tin stocked full of condoms instead.
He grabbed one, slammed his desk drawer shut, and was on his way out of his office when he stopped. He turned and opened the stainless steel storage cabinet in the corner. Pressing the red glowing power button, he shut off the video surveillance system that monitored the interior and exterior of the garage. He’d have to go back and check the last half hour to see if the cameras had captured anything indecent.
But he’d worry about that later.
After slamming the cabinet doors, he hurried back out into the garage to find Megan standing next to the black Audi A8 parked nearest to the tool chest she’d been sitting on.
His heart plummeted into his stomach when he realized she was buttoning her sweater. She hadn’t noticed that he’d returned, but he didn’t miss that her hands were shaking as they tried to finish the last two buttons on her cardigan.
He swallowed hard, trying to keep the disappointment from showing. He was actually shocked and slightly disturbed by how upset he was. It looked like they weren’t going to start things up where they’d left off when he went to grab a condom.
Fuck, he’d taken too long.
Resigned, he took a deep breath and cleared his throat. Megan jerked her head in his direction. Uncertainty swam across her features as she slowly turned toward him, her hands clasped together in front of her.
She was the picture of a Stepford wife in her skirt, matching cardigan set, and high heels. Her hair, although slightly ruffled, had been smoothed back into place. Taking a long inhale, she leveled her gaze at him. If it weren’t for the slight tremor in her hands, he would have sworn she was perfectly poised.
“I take it you’ve changed your mind about needing this?” he asked, holding up the condom.
He tried to smile, but it felt more like a grimace. To say he was disappointed didn’t even come close to covering how he felt. Especially when his hard-on was still tucked into his unbuttoned jeans.
She blinked and nodded. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think this is a good idea.”