NINETEEN
“Tell him I don’t fucking care what his gut is telling him. He pays me to be his gut, and if he doesn’t sell that shit off tomorrow, he’s going to get crushed. All the indicators are there.”
Kelsey blinked in the muted morning light, the living room couch creaking as she turned toward the sound of Wyatt’s hushed but firm voice. He was at the small kitchen table with his back to her and his laptop open, hands-free earpiece looped over his right ear. She pushed the blanket off her legs, regretting that Wyatt had woken up before her. Yesterday morning, she’d pulled off the maneuver without a hitch. She’d hoped to manage it again—to sneak back to bed before he realized she’d slipped into the living room in the middle of the night, but she’d slept right past her normal waking hour.
Wyatt grunted at whatever the person on the other end of the phone said. “Yeah, I saw the preliminary numbers on that one, too. It’ll look tempting to him, but he needs to sit on his hands. After it goes public and the fanfare dies down, the price is going to drop considerably. It’s not as strong a company as the media is making it out to be. He’ll be able to get in later if he wants it.”
Kelsey sat up and wrapped her arms around her knees, watching Wyatt work. His hair was mussed and he hadn’t bothered to put a shirt on, but the set of his shoulders and his tone were all business. She knew if she could see his face, she’d find that oh-so-serious intensity there. That intensity did things to her it shouldn’t, warm and tingly things.
Before he could notice her, she tiptoed to the bathroom and took care of her necessities then dug through her bag to find one of the lacy confections she’d bought on her lingerie shopping trip—a near translucent camisole and a matching panty. She checked herself in the mirror and smiled. There. That should be distracting enough to get Mr. Workaholic away from his computer. Yes, it was Monday. But this was supposed to be his vacation after all. No stress allowed.
As she made her way back toward the living room, she could hear Wyatt still barking orders on the phone, his frustration growing. “No, that’s not how I told you to do it. I needed those reports broken out separately.”
Without looking his way, she strolled past him and into the kitchen.
“And I need you to drill down into that second—” His words cut off abruptly, the rest of whatever he had meant to say hanging in the air.
Kelsey peeked over her shoulder, smiled, and then went about digging through the cabinets to find the canister of coffee.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m still here,” Wyatt said, a gruffness to his voice now. “That second report. I want a drill down.”
Kelsey set up the coffee pot and got it brewing, but she was amused at how distracted Wyatt sounded as he continued his conversation. She bent over to pull the cream out of the fridge, giving him a clear view of her backside, and Wyatt let out a groan. His response fit into the conversation, but she knew who that groan was for. He snapped his fingers sharply. Startled, she set the cream down and turned his way.
His eyes were blazing with challenge. He crooked a finger at her and pointed to the spot next to his chair. Uh-oh. She chewed her lip and hurried to get over there. His hand jutted out and grasped her shoulder, pushing her down to her knees on the polished wood floor.
Her knees landed on the floor with a soft thud, and Wyatt turned his chair outward to face her.
“Yes, that’s exactly what I want you to do,” he said into the phone, but he had his hand on the fly of his pajama pants and his eyes on her. Snap. Snap. Snap. The buttons on his pants opened. A soft gasp passed her lips when he pulled his hard shaft free and stroked a hand over it. With his other hand, he captured the back of her neck and dragged her forward until she was settled between his spread knees. Then he clutched her jaw hard between his fingers, his look holding hot warning. You broke the rules again, it said. You’re trying to control the situation.
A shiver worked over her at the sternness of his gaze and the unspoken threat. She dipped her head, hoping he heard her own silent response. I’m sorry. Forgive me.
“I don’t need your apology,” he said to the person on the other end of the line, while lacing his hand in Kelsey’s hair, wrapping the long strands around his fist. “Just make sure I get what I need.”
With an unforgiving grip, he brought Kelsey’s head down to his lap and pushed his cock past her lips. She choked at the sudden fullness, but quickly relaxed her mouth and throat around him, closing her eyes and yielding. Wyatt’s belly dipped inward, his silent intake of breath a sure sign that he wasn’t as steely calm as he sounded. He guided her down his length and then back up, his hold on her hair making her scalp tingle. On instinct, she tried to control the pace, but he wasn’t having any of that. When she attempted to pull back a little too far, he reached down and gave her nipple a hard pinch. She whimpered around his cock, the sharp pain catching her off guard and sending a hot moisture flooding her sex.
“No, Cary, everything’s fine,” Wyatt said smoothly. “Go ahead and give me the rest of the messages.”
Wyatt nodded and listened to whatever his assistant was saying but never broke rhythm of thrusting into Kelsey’s mouth and moving her head just where he wanted it. His eyes stayed firmly locked on hers. The business chatter faded in her ears, and all she became aware of was her own heartbeat, the wetness gathering between her thighs, and the feel of Wyatt against her tongue. There at his feet, a sense of rightness rose in her, filling her veins and flooding her senses.
She dragged her tongue along the thick vein on the bottom of his cock and pressed at the sensitive spot beneath the tip. Wyatt’s eyelids dropped closed, and his bare chest began to rise and fall with quickened breaths. The control was slipping, the need taking over. The transition rolling through his beautiful body was breathtaking to watch. He ripped the phone piece from his ear and tossed it across the table with a growl.
“Fuck, you’re good at this,” he said with strain in his voice.
She smiled around his cock. Yeah, she was. And she could make it even better. She lifted her hand to his mouth. He groaned and sucked her fingers into his mouth, sliding his tongue between her knuckles and getting everything slick, knowing what she was proposing. Last time, he’d stopped her when she tried this, but she’d loved how instantly he had reacted to the normally forbidden touch. She wanted to give him that kind of pleasure again, push it further.
He released her hand and tugged her head back so he could shove his pants farther down. Then he was guiding her back, his cock sliding over her tongue and stretching her lips. She cupped his balls with her wet hand, spreading the slickness along the bottom and dipping lower. His thighs tightened against her as she teased his perineum and relaxed her throat to take him deep.
“Christ.” His hold on her hair shifted, a tremor going through his fingers. “Your mouth is going to be the death of me. I stopped you last time, love, but don’t expect that to happen this time. You’re going to finish what you started and take it all.”
Yes, sir, her mind whispered. She’d never heard more welcome words. She was dissolving with need right there at his feet and wanted nothing more than to give him all the pleasure she was capable of giving. Never before had she gotten so much satisfaction from this act, from serving a man.
She eased a slick finger farther back, teasing his back entrance and then pressing against the tight ring of muscle there. His body initially resisted, but when a long, hard breath hissed passed Wyatt’s lips, his muscles relaxed and her finger pushed inside of him. His hand flexed in her hair as if unsure how to handle the invasion, but his knees spread wider, and a low, sexy grunt filled her ears.
Taking that as a good sign, Kelsey swirled her tongue around his cock and pumped her finger inside him slowly, brushing against that secret place she knew could drive a man wild. His shaft seemed to grow harder in her mouth, his verbal responses coming out in short, quiet bursts of sound. His quickening abandon only drove her higher. The fact that he was willing to let her try this with him even though she suspected no one had ever touched him like this gave her a heady rush. Most straight men had hang-ups about being penetrated in any way, even if they suspected it would feel good. She loved that Wyatt could simply enjoy.
His cell phone rang out in the quiet, but he didn’t even flinch at the interruption. He tilted his head back and increased the pace, guiding her mouth over him in just the way he wanted. She closed her eyes and let her neck muscles go soft, allowing him to use her fully without any resistance. Her finger eased back and forth inside him, her thumbnail gently scoring his balls. And as he pumped into her mouth, her own mind started to fuzz at the edges—only the clean scent of his sweat and the sounds of their connection filling her senses. She pressed her thighs together, trying to relieve the throbbing ache he was causing.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Wyatt growled, his hips thrusting hard now. “And dirty and sexy and fuck . . .”
His body went taut, his cock swelling in her mouth as a rumbling groan burst from deep in his chest. His release spilled against her tongue, the salty fluid causing Kelsey her own moan of satisfaction. She let her finger slide out of him and gripped his thighs as he rode the end of his orgasm.
When he finally softened his grip on her head and let her hair pass through his fingers, she released him and sat back on her calves, her breath coming in quick huffs, her neck damp with perspiration.
“Eyes down, love. Hands in your lap.”
She lowered her head, focusing on the joints where the floorboards met with each other, and tried to calm herself. Every sensitive point in her throbbed and pulsed with want for his touch—her lips, her nipples, the little bud between her thighs. But no touch came. She listened to the brush of cotton as he pulled his pajama bottoms back on, the chair legs scooting along the floor, keys on a keyboard. Then he started talking.
And it wasn’t to her.
She looked up in shock, finding Wyatt’s profile inscrutable as he resumed talking business with someone. He turned his head quickly, catching her staring, and gave her a cool glare that dared her to argue. She brought her gaze back to the floor, realization settling over her. This was punishment. She’d given him an orgasm that had clearly been fantastic, and he was punishing her? Anger flared in her, fire of a different sort heating her blood.
She stayed there on her knees, fuming, and losing track of how much time was passing. The sunlight moved a few inches across the floorboards as Wyatt made a handful of phone calls, never once addressing her in between conversations. She should get up, should walk out, and tell him to go to hell. But something in her refused to let her move. She remained in place, arguing with herself. But in the end, determined pride won out. She would prove she could beat him at his game. This would not break her.
After another terse phone call, Wyatt rose and left the room. She followed his footsteps with her ears, listening as they receded into the back part of the cabana and then grew loud again. His bare feet appeared in the spot on the floor she was staring a hole into. He squatted down in front of her and put a knuckle beneath her chin. She hoped her gaze conveyed her contempt.
His smile was amused. “Watch that feistiness, love. You’ll get me hard again, and I may demand a repeat performance before letting you have what you want.”
She narrowed her eyes, and he chuckled.
He reached forward and fingered the strap of her camisole before bringing it down her shoulder. Goose bumps prickled her skin at the gentle touch. He repeated the process on the other side, drawing her top downward until her breasts were fully exposed. He pinched a nipple between his thumb and forefinger, earning a gasp from her, and affixed a metal clip. Sensation shot straight downward, more wetness gathering despite her utter annoyance with him. He gave the other breast the same wicked treatment, then gave each clip a flick with his finger.
“Oh!” Her face tilted toward the ceiling, the surprising bite of pain making her dizzy.
“Maybe this will help you learn that you are not in control here. It’s Monday and I need to get some work done. I hoped to fit it in before you even woke up so that I wouldn’t have to use up any of our time, but no. Instead, you insisted on parading in here, looking like a fucking wet dream, and teasing me away from what I needed to do.
She gritted her teeth. “I’m sorry, sir. God forbid, I get on my fucking knees and suck you off first thing in the morning. Your plight is truly awful.”
“Smart mouth. Sexy but disrespectful.” He flicked her nipple again.
“Fuck!” she cried out. How could one little flick of a finger hurt so damn much? She tried to ignore the moisture beginning to leak down her thighs. “Bastard.”
He inhaled deeply, closing his eyes for a moment before meeting her gaze again. “You know, love? Your insults would probably be more effective if your scent wasn’t giving you away and telling me exactly how turned on you are right now.”
Taunting? He was taunting her? She couldn’t keep her mouth shut. “I was trying to help you this morning. You’re on vacation, Wyatt. You’re not supposed to be working. Jace told me to do whatever I could to make you relax and leave work behind. I was only trying—”
He grabbed her jaw, his tone going fierce. “So you’re taking orders from Jace now?”
“No.” She tried to shake her head, but his fingers held her firm. “I was trying to help.”
“I don’t need that kind of help, Kelsey,” he said harshly, her point apparently hitting some spot he didn’t want poked. He released her chin. “My job is—”
“Everything,” she said, looking away. “I know. I didn’t mean to interrupt. I just thought you could use a distraction, a break.”
He sighed, a sound of resigned frustration more than anger. “Kelsey.”
For some ridiculous reason she wanted to cry at the defeated way he said her name. Her temper slid away from her, replaced by the perplexing need to make it okay. “I’m sorry, sir. I tried to control things again. I’m sorry . . .”
Hands spanned the side of her head. “Shh, love. Please don’t get upset.”
She pressed her lips together, trying to fight back the knot developing in her throat.
His frown dipped deep, regret there in his eyes. “Yes, you did try to control things. That is unacceptable. But hell, I didn’t need to be an asshole about it. Come ’ere.”
She sagged into his grip and met his gaze. His eyes said everything he hadn’t. I’m sorry. It’ll be okay. I need you. His lips met hers in a soft press, his hands sliding down to her neck. The tension slowly unwound inside her belly as he sat on the floor and dragged her into his lap. Her clamped nipples brushed against his bare chest, sending snaps of now pleasure-edged pain through her. She breathed his name into their kiss.
His cock, growing hard again, pressed against the thin silk of her already soaked panties. Her body trembled, need firing anew. She’d been riding on the edge so long, any touch now ignited her. He broke away from the kiss with a panted breath and laid back on the warm wood floor, propped on bent elbows and spread out like a delicious buffet of man and muscle. “I want you, love. And since I’ve been a jerk, it’s ladies’ choice this time. Tell me how you want me to make you come.”
She briefly considered crawling up his body and straddling his face. The man was a master with his mouth. But she knew nothing else was going to satisfy her at this point except having him inside her. “I need you to fuck me.”
A feral look entered his gaze, and he reached beneath her thigh for his pocket. He pulled the condom out, and she lifted up on her knees to give him room to unbutton his pants and sheath himself. Before he even moved his hand out of the way, she was lowering herself onto him, her folds slick and ready to accept him. She let out a long sigh of satisfaction as he filled every space inside, and she sat fully against his hips. God, each time felt like the first time with him, every nerve ending standing at attention.
His eyes were closed in his own wave of enjoyment, but his smile was unrepentant. “You’re going to have to do all the work in this position, love. I’m not accustomed to being on the bottom.”
She lifted her hips in a slow drag and then plunged down again, shivering at the look of ecstasy on his face. “I think I can handle it, sir.”
By the time she screamed out his name, sending them both into oblivion, the floor was shiny with their sweat and the noonday sun beamed through the windows.
But as she lay across his chest afterward, their heavy breaths intermingling, she was all too aware that being on top meant nothing. In those few hours of that Monday morning, she realized exactly who had surrendered.