Better Than Chance (13 page)

P
ETER
LEFT
a message for me late the following afternoon.

“It looks like my flight is delayed.” There was a silence and a sigh on the other end of the line before his deep, low voice sounded again. “I’m in meetings most of the day tomorrow. Why don’t you leave me your address in a voice mail or even e-mail, and I’ll pick you up tomorrow night?”

There was a second or two of silence with only airport noises audible in the background before he signed off quickly. It was a weird message. And like the text he sent me a few weeks ago, there was a presumptive, arrogant tone. Or perhaps that was just how I chose to hear it. Maybe he didn’t want me to get the impression he was asking me for a date. Fine by me. I doubted we could stand sitting across a table from each other without tossing it out of the way to get down to business… so to speak. No. The next time we met it would be about sex. Only sex.

I hadn’t said a word to Aaron about anything that had occurred between Peter and me since the conference room escapade. I could make no sense of any of it, and although Aaron was known to possess a wisdom beyond his years, this was mine to figure out. Or it was mine to do and tell him about later.

As instructed by the ever bossy Mr. Morgan, I left him a voice message with my Dupont area address. I told him I would expect him at seven the following evening. A fresh new wave of butterflies invaded my stomach. What was I doing? I’d never had a romantic liaison with a coworker. Ever. I knew this wasn’t smart but I also knew that butterflies or not, I wasn’t going to get him out of my head until something happened.

I
WENT
to the gym after work, then stopped by the market to grab something for dinner before finally making my way home. The skies opened up as I hurried to throw my bags into the back of my car. It was a spring rain, but not the gentle flower-coaxing kind. This was a deluge. A sudden and mighty drencher. I threw my head back and reveled in the feel of its potency. I loved it when weather took you unaware and gave you a powerful reminder of who’s boss. Wearing a big, stupid grin and soaked to the bone, I drove home humming along with pop dance music on my car radio.

I toed off my wet sneakers, set my briefcase aside, and made my way into my kitchen to put my groceries away. I was still sopping wet, but hunger won over comfort. I opened a bag of carrots and a container of hummus, turned on some tunes to keep me company, and snacked while I tidied and organized my purchases. One of my favorite dance songs came on, and I shook my ass as I moved from the refrigerator to the sink and back again. Between the pounding rain and the driving beat of the music, I found my happy place dancing around my kitchen in wet Lycra shorts and a plastered-on tank top. The top had to go. I shimmied out of it, laughing to myself when I was forced to roll it up my wet chest.

I picked up my damp T-shirt and one more carrot when a different pounding sound made me jump half out of my skin. Maybe it was thunder. I turned my music down and was once again startled by the rapid banging on my front door.
Who the fuck?
I gulped. Aaron had a key, and he would have called or left a message first if he was coming by. Because I’d been startled, my heart was beating like a hammer as I peeked through the hole to see who was on the other side.

Peter Morgan.

He was dressed in business attire with a light-colored Burberry raincoat that didn’t stand a chance against what Mother Nature was delivering outside. His dark hair shone with moisture, and through the peephole, I watched him shake his wavy locks as he waited for me to answer. He looked dangerous, like a wolf waiting for entry. A thought popped in my head that at times like this I should use caution before opening my door. My reckless self surfaced, and I opened the door quickly, ushering him in with a wave of my hand.

“What are you doing here?” I stammered as Peter stepped inside my foyer, dripping the elements on my hardwood flooring.

He opened his mouth to speak, looking almost as surprised to find himself in my home as I was to have him there. His shrewd eyes took in his surroundings before he focused on me. He licked his lips as his gaze roved all over my body, taking in my barely clothed state. I was holding my wet T-shirt in my hand and my bare chest was still slightly damp. I wiggled my bare feet and looked down, realizing I was wearing only a thin pair of shorts. I was taken aback by the fierce desire I saw written all over Peter’s handsome face. He swallowed hard, massaging the back of his neck in a familiar gesture of frustration. He looked flustered and out of his depth.

“I… frankly I don’t know what I’m doing here.” He gave a humorless half laugh before looking directly at me. “Actually, that’s a lie. I know exactly why I’m here.”

I gulped audibly.

I suppose I should have acted the part of good host. I should have offered to take his coat and make him something warm to drink. But I couldn’t find my voice, and I found it very hard to breathe, let alone think coherently with Peter standing in my entry.

“Can I come in?”

Suddenly I found my voice, but it was a jumble of nervous words, just as I’d feared.

“Y-yes. Yes! Sorry. Here, let me take your coat. Are you hungry? Can I get you something to drink? This weather is so weird. Typical spring, I guess. Sunny one minute, and the next it’s….”

“Hey.”

I started at the sound of Peter’s low, sexy voice. He had removed his raincoat and draped it over the bench in the foyer. His head was cocked to the side and his smile was kind, as though he was trying to coax a frightened animal out of hiding. The warmth in his eyes and the sweetness of his smile were beguiling. I knew I would do any and everything Peter wanted right then and there. All he had to do was ask.

“Come here.”

My feet moved seemingly of their own volition until suddenly we were standing inches apart.

“Look at me.”

I tilted my head to meet his eyes, grateful that we were close to the same height. His intense gaze was enough to make me weak at the knees. I held my ground, but still couldn’t seem to find my voice. I was afraid if I opened my mouth I’d offer him some warm socks or something equally lame. I had a feeling he had something much different in mind, and I wanted him to take the lead. He didn’t disappoint.

“I couldn’t wait. I want you, and I couldn’t stop thinking about how much I want this. Us. Do you want this too? One night. Now.”

The last part was said like a challenge. A dare. I looked away for a moment before turning back to answer him.

“You have too many clothes on. Come upstairs.”

His nostrils flared appreciatively at my response as his hands drew me forward into a crushing embrace. I jumped back as my bare flesh met the cool fabric of his suit coat. I gave a nervous-sounding giggle and inclined my head for him to follow me. My heart was beating double-time as I climbed the stairs. I was ultra-aware of the sounds in my house for some reason. I could hear the faint dance music I’d left on in my kitchen. Rihanna singing about being under an umbrella, I think. I could hear the incessant pounding of the rain on the windowpane and Peter’s even tread on the steps behind me as he followed me to my bedroom. I hadn’t been this nervous since my first time, when I fumbled around with Danny Barton in his bedroom during our lunch break when we were juniors in high school. I’d been sixteen at the time. This was an entirely different kind of nervousness.

My room was tidy, thankfully. I’m not a complete neat freak, but I like order. A quick sweep told me I’d done the basics before I’d left early that morning for work. Bed made, clothes picked up, no towels on the floor.
Whew
. I turned to face Peter with a somewhat pasted smile fixed to my face. He was taking in his surroundings again, but he gave me that lopsided wolfish grin when he caught my look.

“Your place is nice.”

I nodded my thanks, afraid that I’d start talking about designer-brand duvets, towels, and my preferred thread count if I opened my mouth. Peter did that hand behind his neck thing again, and I realized for the first time that perhaps he was nervous too. I had to say something. We were both out of our comfort zones.

“Thanks. I just repainted my room, actually the whole house, or most of the rooms about six months ago. I guess it was just before the holidays. I decided to go with a silver blue in this ro—”

Peter pulled me into his arms and sealed his mouth over mine. I think the kiss was meant to stop the flow of speech rather than as a precursor to passion, but it quickly became just that: a sensual fusion of lips and tongues. He tasted minty, like he’d been sucking on peppermint candy. Cool, fresh, and still uniquely Peter. He bit at my lips playfully, then pressed small kisses along my chin. The feel of his scruffy chin against my own was unexpectedly stimulating. I loved a man with sexy stubble, but I was always careful to shave closely myself. I didn’t expect this tonight so I hadn’t physically prepared myself the way I would have if I’d known he was coming.

Peter groaned aloud, obviously as turned on as I was. I could feel his erection through his gabardine trousers as I stepped in between his thighs in an attempt to get closer. Peter pulled me in, caressing my shoulders, then back muscles before dipping his fingers inside the elastic band of my shorts. He stilled his roaming hands and returned to the business of kissing me senseless. He was an expert kisser, his full lips sensuously playing over mine until I had no thought but that I wanted more.

I felt his hands slip inside my shorts to cup my bare ass. A shudder went through me as I pressed close and wondered if I could almost come from that simplest of touches. Damn. At this rate I wasn’t sure I’d survive the actual deed. Peter kneaded my ass cheeks in his big hands and pulled my body hard against his. His power and strength were intoxicating. I reached up to begin the daunting chore of unbuttoning his oxford shirt. He freed one of his hands and tugged at his tie, but before I got three buttons done, he pushed me backward toward the bed. The back of my knees hit the mattress and I fell, making sure to take him with me.

Peter chuckled at my antics but pulled away and swiftly yanked my workout shorts over my hips and off my body. I was bare-ass naked, sprawled on my navy duvet with my fully clothed sexy boss standing over me.

“You are so fucking pretty.” His voice was low and sounded strained as though he were working hard to maintain control.

I started to sit up in order to bring him down with me, but he held his hand up in that authoritarian way.

“No. I want to see you first.” He licked his lips lasciviously while he worked on the remaining buttons of his shirt. “Touch yourself, Jay.”

My breath hitched at his command. It sounded so dirty coming from him, but erotic as hell too. I placed my right hand over my achingly hard dick, using my thumb to smear precum over the swollen head. With my left hand I reached down and fondled my balls gently while I set a slow rhythm with my right hand stroking myself. My eyes were hooded, but I watched Peter watching me while he worked on ridding himself of his clothes. His shirt was now completely undone, but still on his broad shoulders. His hand was at his zipper. And then he pushed his own pants and boxers away, finally revealing his incredibly beautiful body. He was bigger than me. Longer and thicker. I licked my lips in anticipation.

“Sexy boy,” he muttered as he leaned over, planting kisses all over my chest, stopping to suck each nipple in turn. I arched off of the bed and made a grab for his heavy cock. I had to touch him. He made a tsking sound and pulled my arms above my head.

“No.”

“I want to touch you. Please.”

“You will, but first lie still. I want to make you feel good.”

Peter splayed his hands firmly over my chest, then wrapped them around my hips as he settled his large body between my thighs. I could barely breathe. Anticipation had me whimpering hopefully. I nearly flew off the bed when he bent to take my hard cock in his mouth in one fell swoop.

“Peter! Fuck.”

He looked up at me briefly before taking my flesh in his right hand and running his tongue firmly up and down each side. Then he swallowed me whole again.

“Aghh.” I propped myself up on my elbows to watch him work his magic on me as he alternated between sucking, licking, and squeezing my painfully hard member while his hands securely held me down.

“Stop.” I leaned forward and pulled at Peter’s hair. I was close to losing it, and I wanted something more. If I was only going to have one chance, then I wanted to come while he was inside me.

Peter’s full lips were swollen, and his eyes were clouded with lust. He was in a sensual zone and didn’t seem to register my request. I licked my lips and tried again.

“Please. I want you to fuck me.” My voice was low, almost a whisper, but he heard me. He swallowed once and kissed the head of my dick before shifting his body up to finally cover mine. The delicious feel of his heavy, naked body sent a shiver of need through my bloodstream. I wanted him so badly it hurt. Peter cupped my chin with his thumb and forefinger and slipped his tongue between my lips. I could taste myself in his kiss. I writhed under him, in danger of spiraling out of control. I begged him again. This time he shifted off of me completely, and I moaned at the loss of his weight.

“Do you have condoms?”

Peter was leaning back with his thick, hard cock in hand, while he eyed me expectantly. I felt like I was hearing everything underwater, and it took me a moment to comprehend. Condoms. Right. Yes. I had those. Lube too. I jumped up and leaned over to retrieve the supplies from the nightstand drawer. I heard Peter’s soft chuckle behind me and then felt his sudden large presence directly behind me. I gulped at the feel of his pulsating sex playfully nudging at my crack. Peter pulled me into his arms, my back pressed to his broad chest as his hands roamed freely over my body, pinched my nipples, then dipped lower to tug and tease my cock.

“Peter, please….”

He kissed my ear and snatched the bottle of lube and the condom from my hands.