CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Cole
I have never wanted to fuck a woman as badly as I want to fuck Lori Havens right here and now in this elevator, and we’re not even alone. That I want her to the point of distraction, and have for months now, is a problem that ends tonight. The floors tick by, twenty to be exact, each allowing me an opportunity to imagine the many ways to take this woman: bent over my desk, me driving inside her until she begs me to stop, and her sitting on my desk, her legs around my neck, my head buried between her thighs, top the list. Of course, there’s her on her knees—
The elevator doors open, and holy fucking hell, at least we’re a little closer to the hour when Lori will be on my tongue and on my cock. A few hours from now, she’ll be mine. With that certain future before me, I steel my willpower—that is, until Lori follows Cat and Reese out of the car ahead of me, and I’m allowed a perfect view of her heart-shaped backside in that burgundy dress. Change of plans, I decide, checking my watch to confirm there is a good thirty minutes until the party starts, adequate time for me to find a place to pull Lori’s dress up, slip inside her, and fuck her; just long enough to hear those sexy moans of hers. A fantasy I savor as I step out of the elevator car and to her side. That is until Maria rushes through the open double doors to our right, where our newly minted unoccupied space is being used for the party, and blows that all to hell.
“We have a problem,” she announces, stopping in front of us, her attire of jeans and a T-shirt making it clear that she hasn’t had time to change. “The catering company had a fire,” she continues. “They cancelled hours ago.”
“What?” Cat exclaims. “Why didn’t you call us?”
“Because I thought I had it handled,” Maria says, pressing her hand to her forehead, “and I handle worse than this most weeks.”
“Oh my God,” Cat breaths out, turning to Reese. “Oh my God.”
“Don’t panic,” Maria says, quickly. “I should have prefaced that statement by saying it’s handled. Somehow. Le Rue, the restaurant we all adore down the road, agreed to save us, but they showed up with no sweets and no coffee. We really need some kind of sweets.”
“I’ll help make phone calls,” Cat says. “Someone can help.”
“Time is an issue,” I say. “Do we have the champagne we ordered?”
“Yes,” Maria confirms. “All is well on that end.”
“We’re boozing people up and feeding them, then,” I reply. “Call it good.”
“Agreed,” Reese says. “How many of the partners are here?”
“Most of them,” Maria says. “But none of them know there’s a problem. I didn’t want to deal with them and this at the same time.”
“No food was a problem,” I say. “Skipping dessert and coffee is not a problem. Your job is done and done well, as always.”
“Again, I agree,” Reese chimes in. “Cat and I can manage the masses, Maria,” he adds, slipping his arm around Cat’s shoulder. “You go take a breather and change clothes. We’ll toast your hard work and our future when you get back.”
Cat twists in his arms to face him. “You go manage the masses,” she orders. “I get it. You’re a guy and it doesn’t feel important, but it is. We need dessert and coffee. This is a big event and we have time. It can be a final offering.”
“I think I can handle the coffee and sweets,” Lori offers, reaching inside a small burgundy purse at her hip and removing her phone. “I worked at a coffee shop, remember? The owner also operates a cupcake shop and the cupcakes are amazing. I also happen to know that he mass bakes on Saturday nights for the Sunday and Monday rush.”
“See why I love her?” Cat demands. “She’s amazing.”
“Call me amazing when I get the job done,” Lori says, dismissing the compliment, and eyeing Maria to ask, “How many am I servicing?”
“Two hundred,” Cat says, answering for Maria. “What can I do?”
“Nothing,” Lori replies. “I’ll take over. I’ll handle this.”
The three women go back and forth a minute, or maybe two, before Maria proclaims, “Thank you, Lori,” and hugs her before she darts away.
Lori motions to the rest of us. “All of you go. You have better things to do than manage cupcakes.”
“You’re sure you don’t need me?” Cat asks.
“If I can’t handle cupcakes,” Lori replies, “then someone needs to fire me now.”
“These cupcakes might require a miracle,” Cat says, “but I do want to check out everything else inside. I’ll be back. Or you come find me. Whichever happens first.”
Lori nods, and Cat walks in the other direction. “Hold on, sweetheart,” Reese says, catching up to her, his arm settling around her shoulders, and for the first time in my life, I want to have what they have. I want to pull the woman next to me into my arms. I want to show the damn world she’s mine. I want to make her mine, and the craziest fucking part is that I feel no resistance to the idea.
“I can find you inside, too, Cole,” Lori offers. “I won’t be long.”
“You could find me inside,” I say, turning to face her and reaching for my wallet. “But you need to pay, remember?” I remove my credit card, replace my wallet, and hand her the card.
“Right,” she says, reaching for it.
“Not to mention,” I add, holding the card that she’s now holding, as I add, “You’re with me tonight, remember? Now and later.”
“Quite well,” she assures me, heat whipping and cracking between us that she reacts to the minute I release the card.
She takes a hard step backward, wetting her lips while I indulge in a fantasy that involves her mouth on my cock, or pretty much anywhere on my body. She taps a number on her phone and immediately begins a short conversation that is over without a cupcake order being completed.
“I was right,” she confirms, disconnecting the line. “The shop staff is baking for tomorrow morning. The owner will call me back in a few minutes. I feel good about this working out, but I should try to make calls for backup, just in case.”
The elevator dings and I step to her, catching her elbow. “Come with me,” I say, leading her in the opposite direction from the party.
“Where are we going?” she asks earnestly.
“Away from whoever is about to step off that car and force us to be cordial before it’s necessary,” I inform her, turning us down a hallway. “And to an office where you can make calls in private.”
“Shouldn’t we update Maria?”
“Maria’s changing clothes,” I say. “And we don’t have an update.” I cut us down yet another hallway.
“I know,” she says, “but—”
I stop walking, turn her to face me, my hand sliding under her hair, my mouth slanting over her mouth. Her hand presses to my chest, her body stiff until the moment my tongue licks against hers. A soft, sexy sound escapes her lips and her elbow softens, but the air conditioning kicks in and she jumps.
She gasps and pulls back. “We have to stop,” she pants out, her hand firming on my chest again, elbow stiff. “Someone is going to see us.”
By the time she’s finished that statement, I’ve backed her to a door, opened it, and I’m walking us inside. “Now they can’t see us,” I say, shutting us inside and flipping the lock.
“Cat will look for us.”
“I just want a little taste, sweetheart,” I say, my hand sliding under her hair, one of my elevator fantasies presently on my mind, “and then I promise to share you for a few hours,” I add, my mouth slanting over hers again, and this time her resistance lasts a split second. She outright moans with the touch of my tongue, and that’s all I need to deepen the kiss, the taste of her deliciously sweet and addictive, exactly what I’m after. I back her up against the desk and drag her dress up her hips. She grabs my hands. “Cole,” she breaths out. “We can’t do this.”
I lift her and set her on the desk. “But I can do this,” I say, kissing her hard and fast, before I drop to my knees, spread her legs, and yank away her panties. She gasps—God I love the sounds this woman makes—and then my mouth is already there, on her sex, my tongue licking her up and down, the taste of her salty and sweet, and once again, addictive. I can’t get enough of this woman on my tongue, on my lips, or on my cock where I’ll finally have her when we’re alone. I drag her legs to my shoulders, forcing her to catch her hands on the desk, while I slip one, and then two fingers inside her. She moans, and pants, and my name murmurs from her lips. I want to hear my name on this women’s lips over and over again, I lick her, stroke her; I torment her with pleasure just long enough to drive her wild, to drive her to the edge until she’s panting out, a raspy, “Cole, please.”
And since she said please, how can I deny her? I give her what she wants and needs. I dart my tongue across her clit, before I suckle her deep, pumping my fingers inside her until she’s arched against the touch, her sweet tight sex spasming around my fingers. Her entire body jerks and then begins to tremble with her breathless, “Cole,” that fades and her arms collapse.
Only then do I ease my fingers from her and slide her legs from my shoulders. I slip my arm around her waist, and lift her up and to me. She catches herself with a hand on my chest. “I can’t believe we just did that,” she says, her head low, a hint of vulnerability and sweetness to her that I find sexy as hell.
“I can’t believe that I didn’t do that the day you walked into my office the first time.”
“You’re my boss,” she says, but this time it doesn’t read like an objection.
I cup her face and force her gaze to mine. “Does that turn you on?”
“I’m not telling you that I’m turned on by you being my boss.”
“Why not? It’s me. It’s us.”
“There is no us.”
“Isn’t there?” I challenge.
“No,” she says, “because, damn you, you are my boss.” She motions to the room. “And we’re doing this in some person’s office, which proves what a horrible, horrible influence you are. What are you doing to me?”
“Nothing you aren’t doing to me, Lori.”
“Then what are we doing?”
Her cell phone rings. “The cupcakes,” she says, twisting around to try to locate her phone, grabbing it somewhere behind her to answer the call. “Hello, Mr. White?” She scoots forward on the desk and I help her down, easing her skirt over her hips as she continues on her call with, “Yes. Yes. Two hundred, and coffee with condiments. Perfect. Credit card. Right.” She turns and starts hunting for it.
I find it on the floor and snatch it up, offering it to her. She accepts it while I lean in and kiss her, a quick, deep slide of tongue, letting her taste herself on my lips. When our lips part, and I pull back, she gives me this sexy, doe-eyed look that makes me want to pull her skirt up again.
“You there, Lori?” someone on the phone line asks.
“Yes,” she says, cutting her gaze from mine. “I have the credit card number.” She reads it off to him, and then listens a minute, giving him instructions before she disconnects and announces, “We have cupcakes and coffee.”
“I’m sure there will be a lot of satisfied guests.” My hands settle on her waist. “But you are what satisfies me, and by the time tonight’s over, you’re going to know that.” I hold up her panties and stick them in my pocket. “The rest of the room won’t know I own you tonight, but now you do.”