Page 24 of Want Me
“You were expecting a hotel suite?” His voice was cool, limbered by alcohol, and trickled like a light touch of fingertips down my spine. His lips quirked up and carried my dick right along with them. I was little more than a fucking charged particle in his presence, and I kept waiting for it to wear off, but it seemed to be getting worse.
“A supply closet or storage room, I guess. Wasn’t it locked?” I caught my breath and tugged at my collar, willing my racing heart to calm the hell down.
“It was.” He smirked. “And now it’s not.”
“How are you so fucking cavalier?”
“Life’s short.” His smirk became a tight smile. “What’s the worst that can happen? You think we’re the only ones messing around? Someone else is fucking around here, you can bet your ass. I just thought you might enjoy the relative privacy, and that hedge out back looked awfully prickly. But hey, I’m game.”
“Are you going to fuck me?” Just saying it out loud sent a fresh wave of raw, needy desire through me. Fuck, I wanted it. Right here, right now. This office felt almost like luxury: the quietness, the lack of people in the immediate vicinity, but still nearby. Not the same tension as the library—a different kind of thrill. I hadn’t been alone with him, truly alone, since that first time in my room.
“Not right now.”
I bit my lip, debating whether I should just get it over with and start begging, sayplease. I wanted him to ruin me, make me beg, make me come. Make me do anything.
Then, as he sat there, with his coat tossed onto the desk chair he’d kicked out of the way, and the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows, he crooked his finger at me. Actually crooked his fucking finger at me as if calling me to heel while he sat on that desk like a damned incubus. I tried for token resistance but soon shuffled forward, slavering for whatever he would give me, aroused by the possibilities and the noise coming up from below.
“Stop,” he ordered when I was no more than three feet from him. I could’ve reached out and touched his knee.
I froze and waited, obedient and wary.
His eyes roamed over me, a sexy, hooded darkness, and in no hurry at all before he declared, “Damn, you look good in a suit. I knew you would.”
Likewise, I wanted to say, but didn’t.
“Makes me want to mess you all up, put wrinkles in that nice shirt, see those pants around your ankles.” He sucked at his lower lip, then shifted on the desk, his stiff cock tenting his pants. I swallowed hard and kept quiet, starting to get a sense of what my role was.
“Is that what you want? Me to strip all that polish off, mess up your hair, get you dirty?”
I nodded, the words filtering in belatedly, but they would have earned the same reply.
“Say it.”
“Yeah, I want it.”
One corner of his mouth quirked up, and I knew that wasn’t enough. His gaze heated with quiet demand. “Try again.”
I closed my eyes and dragged in a breath, but Eric cut me off before I even got started. “Nope, open your eyes and look at me, frat boy.”
His eyes were the heat of a storm pressing into the earth, ready to unleash. I could lose myself there if I allowed it. And I wanted to. Fuck, I wanted to. “I want you to get me dirty.”
“Mmm.” That throaty purr of sound that glided over me like silk. “Good. Untuck your shirt.” He clucked this tongue chidingly at me the same way he had earlier that the morning. “Don’t rush it. Slowly.”
I’d been ready to yank at the fabric, but obeyed and gripped the bottom of my shirt lightly, giving it a gentle tug. The soft whisk of cotton sliding slowly across my abdomen gave me goose bumps and shallowed out my breath as I worked my way around the edge of my waistband.
“Unbutton it.”
He didn’t have to remind me this time. I moved leisurely up the row of buttons, each little plastic disk in my hand like a boulder between me and what I wanted. When I finished, he lifted the toe of his shoe, the cool sole brushing over my skin as he separated the fabric of my shirt to expose more of my chest.
“Such a killer body,” he murmured, grazing his toe along my abs before it relaxed to hang off the side of the desk again. “I should start going to the gym with you.”
“You definitely shouldn’t do that, nope. Trying to lift with a boner would be hell.”
He laughed, this genuine, throaty sound that warmed me in a different way. His eyes crinkled at the corners and sparkled with mischief. “Fair enough. I’ll take that as a compliment.” His laughter halted as suddenly as it had begun, and he ticked his chin at my slacks, which were straining comically with my erection. I flushed with awareness at how obvious I was, naked for him without even being naked yet. In fact, nakedness would probably have been the better kind of vulnerability.
“Unzip.”
Fuckingfinally. Now we were getting somewhere. My cock twitched and throbbed, excited at the prospect of being manhandled, maybe sucked.