“And the article about the Insomnia Lounge?” I challenge.
“I brought you there to give you a chance to tell me the truth, which you didn’t take, for whatever reason.”
“Maybe because I didn’t want to. Maybe because I was perfectly fine with you thinking I was a hooker. Maybe because I had no intention of ever seeing you again.”
He leans forward, his hand still on my arm. Suddenly I feel helpless against the magnetic pull from his body. Who am I fooling? I want him. I want him so badly I can taste my desire.
“Quit lying to yourself,” he says quietly.
I let out a soft breath through parted lips. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Tell me the truth, Rachel,” he challenges. “What do you want?”
I don’t answer, so he continues. “You see, I know what I want. I want you. I didn’t ask Jessica Layner to give you the feature, but I hoped she would, especially after I told her that I was a fan of your work. I’ll be in San Francisco for a week, and I want you there with me. I want to fuck you every day we’re there. I haven’t stopped thinking about it since that night at my hotel. I want to make you come until you beg me to stop, and I know you want the same thing.”
I swallow hard. His words are doing something to me. Already, my nipples are hard and aching, pressing insistently against my bra. I wonder if he can see them through my blouse, even as I hope desperately that he can’t. He hasn’t even touched me and yet, I already feel breathless with desire. My cheeks flush, a
nd I close my eyes, frustrated with my inability to control my body around him.
“But if you’d prefer not to,” he continues, “then we won’t see each other in San Francisco. You’ll do your work, return to New York and probably never see me again. Is that what you want?
I want him to kiss me. That’s what I want. I want to lean forward and close the gap between our lips. I want to taste the warmth of his mouth. I feel bewitched, confused, a second away from forgetting my own name. I can hear my breath coming in soft little pants, like there’s no longer enough air in the room.
“What do you want,” he repeats.
I open my mouth, not sure what I’m going to say, and immediately his lips close over mine, warm, demanding and skillful. His tongue traces my lower lip, then dips into my mouth, teasing, caressing, and stroking the desire that’s already burning inside me into a frenzy of hot, uncontrollable need.
He pulls away and I moan in complaint, leaning forward, aching for more. “This is what you want.” His voice is warm and seductive. I stare at him through glazed eyes, wondering why he’s stopped kissing me. “Your nipples are hard, Rachel.” He lifts one hand to stroke one of the hardened nubs through my top, as if to prove his point. A low moan of pleasure escapes me. “Between your legs you’re wet and aching for me, aren’t you?” His eyes are blue fire burning into mine. “I know you want me to fuck you, right here, in this office, on the floor, on my desk, against the wall, anywhere. You wouldn’t care. You just want me inside you, right now.”
At his words, acute desire shoots through me like a lightning bolt. My body clenches needily, helpless against the mental assault of his words. Almost as if I’m under a spell, I reach for his face, pulling it down towards mine.
He claims my lips hungrily, getting up and pulling me up to my feet in the same movement. He lifts me up, pulling my skirt up so I can wrap my legs around his waist as he carries me over to his desk.
As soon as my butt touches the surface of the desk, his tongue plunges into my mouth, tasting and plundering, while his hands cups my breasts through my blouse. I reach for him, my hand moving from the hard slab of his stomach to the perfection of his chest. Loosening his silk tie, I toss it away and start to unbutton his shirt, but he stops me, holding both my hands to my sides, while he bends his head to my breast, grazing my aching nipple with his teeth.
My skin is so sensitive it feels as if it’s on fire. The throbbing between my legs is making it impossible for me to think. I groan, freeing my hands from his so I can thread my fingers in his silky hair. I want more than just this teasing. I want him inside me, as soon as possible.
I arch my back, pressing my breast closer to his face. He groans, coming back up to cover my mouth with his, his tongue mating with mine even as his hands move down to my hips to push my skirt up around my waist, exposing me from waist down.
He strokes warm fingers over the damp lace of my panties, finding my pulsing clit, and rubbing it through the lace. I tear my mouth from his, unable to hold back a small cry of pleasure.
“Do you like it when I touch you like this?” His voice is rough, his eyes blazing with desire.
“Yes,” I whisper helplessly, rubbing my hips against his fingers.
He smiles, and pushes my panties aside, giving his fingers access to stroke me. I’m already so wet, they slide easily through my folds, slipping inside to tease me with the promise of what will come later.
I brace my hands on the desk and spread my legs for him, inviting him deeper, but he pulls his fingers away, and then drops to his knees in front of me.
He’s still holding my panties aside, giving him access to lick every inch of me. I cry out at the warm touch of his tongue, gripping the edge of the desk tightly. He pulls back, then hooks his fingers into the lace of my panties. In the next moment I hear a ripping sound, then his lips touch me again, followed by his tongue, the sweet velvety warmth sending me straight to heaven.
“Landon,” his name comes out of my lips in a long moan. His tongue flicks over my clit, then travels down to the quivering entrance of my body, teasing me and making me want more. “Oh God, Landon.”
He responds by sliding two fingers inside me, teasing my pulsing walls and making my body clench and shudder. His tongue continues to tease my clit, bringing me to the brink of orgasm time and time again until I’m crazy with the desire to have him inside me.
I rock my hips against his mouth, begging him with my movements to give me more. He pauses long enough to look up and grin at the desperation on my face, before he starts to torture me again.
“Landon,” I beg… “I can’t…”