Beguile her: Laws of Seduction Book 2 (6 page)

My phone vibrates, and I look down to see that I have a text message from James.

Stop looking at me like that, or I will not be responsible for the consequences.

Blushing deeply, I look around but see that no one is looking at me. Not even James. I force my attention back to the meeting, which has somehow started without me. The points on the agenda are all dealt with quickly, and we are all out of there within forty-five minutes. Alex walks me back to my office. “I thought we would be in there a lot longer, but McAllister really kept things moving.”

“You noticed that too? He’s probably got back-to-back meetings and needs to stay on schedule.”

Alex laughs. “Got to keep up those billable hours, right?”

I have barely gotten back to work when my office phone rings with the name McAllister flashing across the display. When I pick up, James speaks in a cold, emotionless tone. “Ms. Hart, please come to my office in five minutes.” He hangs up without even waiting for my response. Anxiety creeps up my spine. Could I have done something wrong?

Once again I gather my things and walk down the corridor to James’s office. The whole five minutes has not gone by, but I give a brief knock before walking in. James appears to be waiting for me. Walking over to the door, he glances out before pulling it closed behind us. Taking my laptop and phone from me, he carries them over to his desk and sets them down. He turns around and leans his hips against the front of his desk. His heavy-lidded stare causes my whole body to tingle in anticipation. James crooks his index finger several times, indicating that I should come closer. I approach slowly, and when there is a bare six inches between us, I stop. “What are you wearing under that dress?” I feel my eyes widen at his question. “Lainey,” he repeats, enunciating each word distinctly. “What are you wearing under that dress.”

The low, gravelly tone of his voice makes my knees go week with desire. I swallow past the dryness in my throat before answering. “A pink lace demi bra and matching panties.”

“Dark pink or light pink?”

“Light pink.”

“Show me.”

I jerk my eyes to his. “Here? Now? Somebody could come in.”

“I locked the door. We are perfectly private. Now show me.” He orders.

Not allowing myself to think about it, I move my hands to the buttons on my blouse. After I have finished unbuttoning them, I move my fingers to the clasp on my skirt. Keeping my eyes locked on James, I undo the clasp and let it fall to the floor. “The blouse too.”

I shrug my shoulders out of my blouse, and I feel it slither down my body to join my skirt on the floor. I take a step forward away from the heap of clothes and am left standing in my pink lingerie and black stilettos. I expect James to reach out and take me into his arms, but he isn’t finished giving me commands. “Go lie down on the couch.”

There is a small seating area in one corner of the office with a brown leather couch and two matching chairs clustered around a coffee table. As I turn to walk towards the couch, I imagine James’s hot gaze taking in my swaying hips. By the time I lie down on the couch, I am burning for his touch. I watch as he follows me across the office to stand in front of the couch. “Pull your bra down and touch your breast.” Uncertain, I blink up at him. “Do it.” Hesitantly, I reach up and push down the cup of my bra. I brush my fingers across my breasts. The combination of the light touch and the heat that I read in James’s eyes causes my nipples to tighten into hardened points, and I bite back a moan.

James’s voice is lower and huskier. “Pinch your nipples.” I do as he asks and struggle not to squirm. “Harder,” he demands.

I am practically panting with want. “Touch me,” I beg him.

“Not yet. I need you tell me how wet you are.”

“I’m very wet,” I tell him.

“No, I need you to show me. Move your hand down. That’s right. Now slide it into your panties. Now stroke yourself just on the outside of your pussy. Don’t put your fingers in yet.” I can’t repress my moan of desire. Closing my eyes, I absorb the sensations.

“Now, open your eyes and look at me. I want to see your eyes when you slide your fingers inside that hot little pussy.” I open my eyes and look at him as I slide in two fingers.

“James,” I gasp.

“That’s right baby, you’re doing fine. Now touch your clit. Good, nice and slow. What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking of your hard cock. Please James, I need you.”

He groans, “Not this time, baby. I want to watch you come. Do you know what it was like during the meeting today? You were a very, very bad girl. I knew by looking at you what you were thinking, and it took every ounce of self-control not to throw you across that conference table and sink myself into that luscious pussy.” I let James’s words flow over me as I stroke myself harder and harder. Staring into James’s eyes, I dissolve. “That was beautiful.”

After my breathing returns to normal, I ask, “What about you?”

“What about me?”

He is being purposely obtuse. “Can I do something for you?” I let my eyes fall down to the straining bulge in his dress pants.

“What are you offering?”

I cock my head at him considering. “My mouth?”

“Oh baby, I always love your mouth on me.”

His eyes track my movement as I sit up and slowly move my hands to the buckle of his pants. I take my time unbuckling and unzipping until I finally pull out his rigid cock. Tightening my fingers around the base, I squeeze up and down a few times and am rewarded by a low throated moan. I lean over from my seated position and blow softly on the tip before running my tongue around the bulbous top. James is breathing faster, and I feel myself once again growing wet with desire. I plunge my mouth down on him pushing him as far back into my throat as I can manage. My head bobs as I take him in over and over again. I know he is getting closer, but I stop. Releasing him, I look up at him from under my lashes. “I want you inside of me, here in your office. I want you to think of me coming all over you every time you come to work.”

James moans. “God, yes.” He pulls me up from the couch and leads me over to his desk. “Lean over.”

I lean the front of my body over the front of his desk shifting some things to the side in the process. Gripping the front of the desk, I wait. I feel his cock seeking entrance and then he is sliding into me. He drives into me hard fast strokes. An orgasm so intense rushes through me, and I bite back my cries of delight at the last second. We both remain locked in our positions trying to regain our breath. Finally, James helps me up and assists me with my clothes. “That sure beats the usual meetings I have in here.”I laugh. “I should hope so.”

By the end of the day, I still have not received an e-mail from Mills telling me to forward the Rothschild files to Elizabeth, but I don’t hold my breath that it won’t be happening. Patti has managed to get a good start on digitalizing the Rothschild files, so at least that was one thing going well. 

It’s only Monday night, but Sam and I are having a girls’ night out. After contemplating the meager contents of our fridge, we decide to go to Davey’s in the Village. It was one of our favorite hangouts when we were in law school. The bar has not changed at all in the few months since we graduated, and we fit right in with our jeans and NYU t-shirts. I am ravenous and cannot wait for some Buffalo wings and beer. Okay, maybe not the healthiest dinner, but as far as I am concerned, Davey’s has the best wings in the city. Since it is Monday night, it isn’t that busy, but still filled with enough NYU students to make it feel like old times. The bartender is still the same and, recognizing us, takes our order right away.

“I knew there was a reason why we came here,” Sam jokes. “Hey, isn’t Mark friends with him? Isn’t that why we first started coming here?”

I think back and shrug. “Yea, I’m pretty sure he’s one of those perpetual grad students. He and Mark are from the same place on Long Island.”

“Small world, huh? I used to know his name. It wasn’t Sean, was it?”

After unsuccessfully trying to remember the bartender’s name and exchanging the exciting parts of our day, Sam begs me to tell her about what happened with James over the weekend. I of course tell her the tale of my complete and utter humiliation. She is about to fall off her chair laughing by the time I am done, and I find myself reluctantly laughing as well.

“So what’s the deal?” asks Sam. “Why didn’t the doorman call up to let you know that Rex was coming up?”

“He and James had made plans, so James told the doorman to send him up when he arrived. Apparently Rex is a regular guest and the doorman knows him.”

Slapping her hand against the table, Sam laughs. “I would have loved to have seen Rex’s face when the elevator doors opened to you in all your glory. I can’t believe you were not too embarrassed to hang out with them after that.”

I finish off my second beer thinking I had better slow down since this is only Monday night and I have to work tomorrow. “Believe me, I did consider bailing, but Rex was really nice about it. We ended up ordering in, since I didn’t have anything decent to wear out. It was kind of fun just kicking back with the guys.” 

 Sam gives me a smirk, “Sounds very domestic.”

  “I guess,” I smirk back. I recall what happened on Saturday night. James brought out his universal remote and showed me how a screen and projector where skillfully hidden in the walls of the living room. We watched a baseball game, ate pizza, and drank beer. At least the guys drank beer; I had red wine. Rex was definitely the more outgoing of the two men. James seemed to surround himself with a wall of unapproachability, but I was learning that it was a defense mechanism. If he let his guard down anywhere, it was around Rex. They had known each other since high school and had managed to maintain their friendship despite attending different universities. 

“This Rex guy – is he single?”

I look at Sam in surprise. “I thought things were going well with you and Dylan.”

Now it is Sam’s turn to shrug. “You know me. The clock’s ticking.” 

“I see. You want to get the next guy lined up,” I tease her. 

She rolls her eyes at me. “You make it seem so calculated.”

“No, I know it’s not like that,” I tell her seriously. I have always been confused by Sam’s lack of confidence in herself as long-term relationship material. She has so much going for her: beauty, brains, and a great personality, but she has never been in a long-term relationship. Most of her relationships seem to end after about three months. If things are going badly, she breaks the relationship off or the guy does. If they are going well, I sometimes think she purposely sabotages them. I don’t know what she is afraid of. But, hey, look at me; I should be the last person handing out relationship advice. I smile at her sympathetically, thinking of my own last relationship, which I stayed in for far too long. 

Sam changes the subject. “You never did tell me why you didn’t stay over at James’s Saturday night.”

This is a question that I have no clear answer to. A part of me – admittedly, a large part – had wanted to. Another smaller part couldn’t help but remember the last two times that I had raised my expectations when it came to James and the disappointment that followed. There was a little voice of reason in my head telling me not to move so fast this time. I need to hold a little part of myself back. Since I was completely unsuccessful at this when I was within his sphere, I had decided that limiting my exposure to him would slow things down. Especially after the intensity on Saturday, I was in real danger of completely losing myself in James. I was still considering how to respond to Sam when I see a text message on my phone, which is lying on the table in front of me. Looking down, I see that it is James. “Speak of the devil…” I say, sliding my finger across the screen.

What are you doing tonight? I want to see you.

I type out a quick reply. Sam and I are at Davey’s in the Village.

I’m on my way.

I am surprised by his quick response. A little bubble of excitement wells up inside me at the thought of seeing him tonight. Trying for a casual tone, I tell Sam, “He’s going to stop by.”

Sam squeals with excitement. “I’m finally going to get to meet the mystery man who has Elaine Hart all tied up in knots.” 

“Don’t be so dramatic,” I chide her. 

“Lainey, I have known you for over three years now, and I have never seen you go gaga over a guy... not even Mark, who you were with for… how long? For some reason that I don’t understand, you hold yourself back. So shoot me… I am very excited to meet the man who has finally cracked your shell.”

Sam jumps up to go to the restroom before James arrives. While I am waiting for her to return, I think about what she has just said. Do I hold myself aloof from everyone? When tragedy struck my senior year of high school, I shut myself off from everyone, including my family. Wasn’t that a thing of the past? James said that we are the same. Do I also have a protective wall around me keeping everyone out? I don’t know what to think about these new revelations about myself. 

I had been looking down at my phone, but when I feel a presence at the table, I look up. I am surprised to see Mark standing there. “Mark, I wasn’t expecting to see you.”

Mark glances guiltily at the bartender. I realize that the bartender called him. My spine stiffens. Was Mark checking up on me? “Hey… yea, what a surprise seeing you here, Lainey. How’ve you been?”