Page 17 of Edge of Secrets (The Edge Trilogy #2)

Chapter Ten

Duncan

I counted back from ten, holding my breath. Please, God, not yet. I breathed my climax carefully down, but the second I opened my eyes and looked at her again, spread out beneath me, I was in trouble again.

She was so fucking beautiful. My body was on the verge of exploding. The tight, eager grip of her pussy was a sweet torment. Each stroke was another excellent lick of that excellent, silken lash.

I was glad I’d gotten her good and wet, or I’d never have gotten inside.

As it was, each stroke was slow, pushing against the plushy resistance of her gorgeous body.

She enveloped me—her pussy hugging me—the swift, heavy beat of her heart throbbing around my cock.

Again ... and again … and finally, my tight, careful strokes began to relax, and we found our slick, wet rhythm of deep, rocking thrusts, punctuated by my labored breathing, her breathless gasps. She was working up to another climax.

And my own orgasm was crashing down on me like a falling meteor—the sky was in flames—but God knew how, I held it off just until she took flight.

We soared together, through that inner nowhere. Fused.

I collapsed over her, panting. My mind was wiped clean. I’d never imagined feeling so close to anyone. The essence of her was burned into my mind, a twisting, pulsing glow. I felt like I would always feel it, no matter where she was.

My eyes fluttered open. I was pinning her soft body onto the hard table with all the weight of my torso. Crushing her. That couldn’t be comfortable.

I lifted myself up. Her face was turned away. She couldn’t meet my eyes.

A strange feeling of shyness hit me, too. I felt humbled, uncertain. I didn’t know if she’d felt what I’d felt—and the post-coital crash of doubt chilled me.

I pulled out of the tight clutch of her body.

The condom was a problem. No way in hell was I leaving it in the trash can in the conference room.

I rummaged on the table for the drugstore bag the box had been in, peeled the condom off, sealed it up.

Tongue-tied as a thirteen-year-old boy who’d just had his first lay.

I hastened to shove my still-hard dick back into my pants and fasten them, with some discomfort, before I dared to even look at her.

She’d straightened her own clothing in the meantime. Her panties were back on. Her stockings were up, her skirt tugged down. She was fastening her garters.

And she was waiting for me to speak first. For fuck’s sake. Women were always the talkative ones. This was the first time in my life I’d ever actually wanted one of those long, awkward silences to break.

“Are you, uh, okay?” I ventured.

She nodded.

So much for that brilliant attempt. “That was incredible,” I offered.

“Yes,” she agreed.

I felt a spark of hope. “I didn’t mean for things to happen so fast,” I offered.

She stifled a soft, whispery giggle. “Me neither,” she murmured.

So far, so good. Thank God, she wasn’t getting all emotional on me. Maybe she was actually reasonable. “Well, there’s no going back now,” I said.

She crossed her arms. “Meaning?”

“Meaning, I think we’re on to something here. It’ll be complicated, but it’s worth it to me. Let’s get some dinner, and we can hammer out the details.”

“Details?” she repeated, her voice slow and deliberate. “What details?”

“The details of our mutually beneficial arrangement,” I explained. “It’ll need to be secret, for obvious reasons, but I’m sure we can make it work. I’ll take you to my condo. We’ll order some dinner in, and I’ll show you just how beneficial it can be.”

The second she flipped the light switch on, I blinked. The sheer, blazing fury on her face rocked me back on my heels. The fuck?

She started shoving things into her purse. “I don’t fucking think so,” she said.

I frowned. “Nell?—”

“That’s Ms. D’Onofrio to you.” She stuffed the last of her things into her bag. “You can take your mutually beneficial arrangement and shove it right up your ass.”

She slung her purse over her shoulder and stalked out, black curls bouncing with each furious step.

I lunged after her, grabbing her shoulder to spin her around. “Nell! Wait! At least tell me what I?—”

“Don’t touch me.” She flinched away. She vibrated with rage.

“You didn’t complain about me touching you ten minutes ago,” I pointed out. “Are you fucking with me? Because we both know that was mutual.”

“No, I am not fucking with you.” She spat each word out. “It looks like we were fucking with each other, but we’re done with that. Definitively.”

I still was not getting it. “What the fuck? Just tell me if I need to call my lawyer.”

She let out an explosive breath. “No, Burke. I’m not setting you up for a lawsuit. I’m not an extortionist or a con woman. If you want me to sign and notarize a piece of paper saying I came six times, I’ll?—”

“Eight,” I corrected.

“Do not push me,” she said, biting the words out.

“The sex was great. You’re amazing in bed.

Actually, that’s a misnomer. I’m sure you’re amazing on the floor, in the shower, up against the wall.

But the minute you zip up your pants and open your mouth, you’re a rude, crass, insensitive asshole. So get out of my way.”

She yanked open the office door and flounced out.

I stood there, staring at the door as it shut in my face, running through everything I’d said and done. I saw no fault lines. No red flags. No insults. What the hell had I said?

I’d been sucker-punched. This was not fair. And it was definitely not over.

I slapped the door open. Down the hall, the elevator was closing. I sprinted for it, but the doors pinged shut before I could wedge my fingers in. The other elevator was creeping up around the fiftieth floor. Screw that.

I dove for the stairwell. Enough guessing games. Enough bombs going off in my face. This woman wasn’t getting away from me until I knew what I’d done to piss her off. That was not too much to ask

Fuck this stress-inducing bullshit.