TWENTY
JACE
“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” I demand groggily, unable to take my eyes off Lucy when she swings her long legs over the side of the mattress and starts to scoot off the edge of the bed.
“Home.” There’s a satisfied smile in her voice as she bends over, reaching around on the floor for something. She yawns. “I’ve got to find my phone, and then I’ve got to go home so I can shower and come back to work.”
“That’s ridiculous. I’m your boss, and I’d much rather you play catch up here in bed with me.” She shoots a sexy look over her shoulder, her black hair flying everywhere, and my throat tightens. Christ, why does she have to be so damn enticing? “Get back in bed, Lucy. I’ve got something important to show you.”
“That’s what you told me last night and then when you talked me into that thing I did—”
“You sucked my dick in my office, love. I promise you can say that aloud and nobody will judge you.”
She nibbles on her bottom lip just before she ducks her head again. When she comes up from the side of the bed, she’s holding her phone. “Regardless of what you want to call it, you told me both times that you had something important to show me.”
I take her hand in mine, grinding her palm to my cock until her hazel eyes darken and her lips part. “That is important. And if you come back to bed, I’ll show you why.”
Although I swore up, down, and motherfucking sideways I wouldn’t touch her more than once, this is the third time I’ve experienced the wonder that’s her sweet cunt since our first night together less than a week ago. Lucy’s hard to resist and even harder to deny, and I can’t keep my hands off her body. This time, all it had taken was for her to prance into my office and murmur the words “cock ring” for me to come undone yesterday evening.
She’d been referring to a shipment of toys that’s headed out to Amsterdam at the end of the month, but I couldn’t stop myself from introducing her to our newest product. My dick goes rigid just thinking about the way she looked and felt beneath me, her ass jiggling as I pumped into her, her cheeks flushed as she glanced over her shoulder. She had repeatedly panted that she’d never been with anyone wearing a cock ring, that she’d never been fucked for so long before. I had wrapped her hair around my fingers and tugged her head back until my lip brushed the damp strands of hair clinging to her ear.
“Do you want me to stop?” I’d rasped. She shook her head, bucking her hips, tightening her pussy around me until my cock throbbed. I’d slapped her ass and she moaned. “Then don’t complain about it taking too long.”
I’m sure as fuck not going to let her know that I’ve never felt anything like her before either.
Rolling over, I reach out to her, pressing my fingertips into the dimples at the small of her back. She tosses her phone to the edge of the bed and smiles shyly over her shoulder. “I’ve got to go home and get dressed so I can—” She swallows down what she was saying thanks to the harsh squeeze I give her ass cheek. I move closer, cupping her between both hands, and she lets her head fall back. Her black hair swings over my fingers, covering my tattoos.
“Stop,” she pleads.
“Not until I get more.”
“And when the guys show up here and find me with you? Ash already thought something was going on when I had your shirt the other week. The last thing I want is for him or any of the others to find out about … this.”
She’s got a good point. Somewhere between that first night and this past Monday when I interrupted her conference call to make her come with my tongue and hands, we’ve slipped into something casual. We’ve only talked about it once, but we’ve verbally agreed that we can be adult about this. That we can still maintain professionalism and fuck. Still, I can do without my crew finding out I’ve been breaking my own rules and making use of the photo room with the marketing director for the last week.
“Do you want them to find out?” she questions, her soft voice and hopeful expression asking me for something I’ve got no plans to give.
“I’ll let you go home, Williams,” I mutter, ignoring her question. I drag her pillow over my face, and I’m smirking when I shove it aside. She forces a smile. “Everything in here smells like you. You and sex.”
She shivers but says nothing as she dresses in the same clothes I coaxed off her yesterday evening when she came to me twisting those pouty lips around filthy words. By the time she slides her heels on, nervously working her fingers through her hair to tame it, I’m sitting up in the bed with several pillows propped behind my head.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asks, and I motion her to me. She gives me a hesitant look as she returns to the bed.
“The next time I wear that ring and fuck you,” I say, pulling her onto me so that she straddles me, “I want to be in your tight arse, Lucy.”
She sucks in a breath through her teeth. “I’ve never done that.”
“Then I’ll be your first.” Reaching out to her, I rub a lock of her hair between my fingertips, inhaling the scent that rises from it. “And you’ve no idea how much it turns me on knowing I’ll be the first to feel you there.”
She lets out a choked sound and closes her eyes. “And yet we keep saying we’re not going to do this anymore.”
Releasing her hair to fall over her breast, I cup her face and feather my thumbs over her skin. She’s soft—so fucking soft. “We keep saying that, but then I remember the way you taste and feel.” She arches into me, so I continue, “Now that we’ve started, I don’t know how to stop.”
That makes me fucking weak.
This doesn’t have to affect us professionally, I remind myself, knowing what a goddamn idiot I am for thinking it. My working relationship with Lucy Williams was ruined the moment I told her what I wanted from her. It’s just a matter of time before shit hits the fan and she quits, so I’m determined to take everything she’s willing to give me now.
I’m a selfish prick for even acknowledging that, but she’s a smart woman.
She’s thinking the same thing.
“I don’t know how to stop either,” she whispers, bringing my focus back to her face. She dips her gaze to where the sheets stir between us, indicating my desire to be balls deep inside of her once more. Licking her lips with the same tongue that drove my cock crazy just hours before, she shimmies off the bed and turns her back to me to finish buttoning her pants. “I really should get home, though.”
Before we do something we’ll regret.
She doesn’t say that, but the words hang in the air.
“Go home, love, so you can come back. Then all I’ll think about for the rest of the day is the way you looked after I showed you the waterfall.” Though she’s not staring directly at me, I know she’s blushing, and I can’t help but smirk at the memory hurtling through my head. After round one last night, she asked about the position I brought up during my interview with the blonde who hasn’t stopped emailing since. While I’d rather jerk my dick with sandpaper than pursue someone as pushy as Allene, I was more than eager to show Lucy the position. By the time I was through, she had come twice.
Then, for good measure, I made her cunt quiver for me a third time before I turned her over on her belly and took her from behind.
She turns to look at me, so I get off the bed, not giving a fuck that I’m stark naked when I approach her. I frame her face between my hands and bend my head until our foreheads touch. “I’m not going to get shit done today thinking about what we did in here all night. You should be proud of yourself.”
“Good thing you’ve finished B’s table then,” she whispers breathlessly, and I roll my eyes up toward the ceiling. Bailon had rushed me for weeks on the goddamn thing, and now he’s taking his time accepting delivery. Her words are a reminder that I need to call him today because—paid for or not—the table is taking up too much space in my workshop and I need it gone to fulfill more orders. When I tell her this, she bites her lip and shrugs.
“But at least you’ve gotten more interest because he ordered the table.”
The only new interest we’ve gotten from B’s group is that prick Andrew’s pathetic attempt to get close to Lucy. He came by the workshop a couple of days ago, claiming he wanted to discuss custom manacles. Even Daisy saw right through the façade, pointing out that he was obviously more interested in what my marketing director looked like without her black dress on than monogrammed cuffs.
Telling Andrew that our schedule is booked out until May gave me a sickening amount of pleasure, especially because as I grinned at him, I knew exactly what was hiding beneath Lucy Williams’s clothes. I know every curve, every freckle, and every mark on her lush body—from the lime green ribbon tattooed on her shoulder blade to the scar on the inside of her left ankle—and all he got was a business card and a dismissive smile.
“Right, well, I doubt Andrew’ll be ordering anytime soon,” I finally inform her. Not without getting a taste of you, and that’s never going to fucking happen.
“His loss.”
I back away from her slowly, laughing because her eyes zero in on my cock and widen. I wink just before grabbing my boxer briefs and jeans from the floor. After I’m partially dressed and my boots are on, I motion toward the doorway. “Come on. I’ll walk you to your car before I change my mind and find a way to get you out of those clothes again.”
Resting my hand on the base of her spine as we leave the room, I’m about to drive her crazy by telling her what that little pulse she does with her cunt does to me, but I pause when the sound of machinery greets us. I whirl away from her, stunned to see Griff’s gaze when he lifts his faceguard.
Christ, this isn’t going to be good.
Griff turns the machine off, and the noise Lucy’s making tears at my chest. She’s whimpering, like a wounded animal, and I know this is the last thing she wanted to happen. I scrub my hand over my face and release low curse as I take a step toward Griff. “What the fuck are you looking at?” I demand, and his grin deepens.
“Nothing. Nothing at all.” He shakes his head slowly, turning his body until he’s staring right at Lucy. From the frantic movement of her lips, I swear she’s praying for the floor to open up and swallow her. I’m wanting the same thing, but to Griff. “Shark,” he acknowledges her, and she straightens her spine.
“Good morning, Griffin,” she squeaks in a small voice, turning her face from his.
“You didn’t say anything about coming in so early,” I growl because the sun hasn’t even come up yet. If Griff had mentioned he planned to work early, I would have taken Lucy back to my place. I would’ve broken another one of my rules—fucking someone in my bed—just so she wouldn’t have to be humiliated.
He leans against the workshop table and tilts his head to one side, sizing up the sight of Lucy in rumpled clothes and me without a shirt. “Didn’t think I had to.”
Lucy releases a broken breath loud enough for only me to hear. When she looks up at me with pleading eyes, I step between them, shielding her from his view. “He’s not going to say anything, is he?” she asks weakly.
“Fuck no,” I promise. “I’ll make sure of it.” As I warn Griff what will happen to his job and his kneecaps if he smears her name all over the office, she creeps off toward the exit. She’s almost at the blue door that’ll lead her out to her Jeep when he loudly clears his throat.
“It’s seven, Shark,” Griff announces and she clenches the doorknob, banging her forehead against the cool metal surface. Fuck, I hate seeing her this upset, and I hate it even more because this all came to pass because I needed more of her. “You might as well just shower here and stick around now.”
She looks over her shoulder, her hazel eyes darting from Griff to me until I finally lift my shoulders. “He’s got a point, love.”
Casting a dark glare at him, she turns in the opposite direction of the workshop door and stalks toward the restroom at the back of the building. “If you say anything—” she starts tremulously. While I listen to her threaten to follow through on the promise she made him and Ash before my interview with Allene—and I’ve got every intention of asking what that threat was—I realize something that kicks me right in my stomach.
I wouldn’t mind it if anyone knew about Lucy Williams and I.
Not one fucking bit.