Black Heart (15 page)

sounding so damn smug that it took everything that he had to bite back a smile. She was

definitely a bossy and manipulative little thing.

“I can type fine. Besides, I’ll be doing most of the work at home.”

-
-
-

As she watched him organize the files something in her snapped. She was sick of his

highhanded ways and keeping her from doing her job. It was time that she put her foot

down.

“I’m helping,” she said firmly. “I was not hired simply to drive you around, pick up your

food, and put up with your bullshit, Tristan. This is part of my job and I’m going to do it.

Now you can just suck it up, because you do
not
have a choice in the matter.”

His hand stilled on the file he was moving as he looked up and met her glare. Perhaps

she’d gone a tad too far. Yeah, definitely too far this time. He dropped the file on the desk

and sat back in his chair, never taking his eyes off her.

“I don’t have a choice?” he asked, cocking an arrogant brow in her direction.

She straightened her spine and shoulders. “No.”

For a long moment he didn’t say anything, making her even more nervous. Just when

she was about to make a hasty retreat he spoke.

“Fine.”

“I’m glad we have an understanding.” She couldn’t resist rubbing it in as she walked

around the desk to look at the folders, trying to hide how surprised she was that he gave in

so easily.

“Oh, we have an understanding, all right,” he said as his hand clamped around her wrist

when she tried to pick up a folder.

She swallowed. “I’m helping,” she reminded him quietly.

“Yes, you are. But I need the files over here,” he patiently explained, that calm tone

alone sent shivers down her spine and warning signals off in her head.

“Okay, let me get my chair,” she said, trying to pull her hand away.

“No need. There isn’t enough room over here for two chairs,” he explained. Marty

looked pointedly at the large space behind his desk.

He ignored her and, with a slight tug, had her stumbling onto his lap. Her response was

instantaneous if not a bit embarrassing. She yelped and jumped only to have his arm snake

around her waist and bring her back down on his lap.

Her hands shot out to grip the desk as he shifted the chair forward, trapping her between

the desk and his large body.

“Ah, that’s better. Now let’s see what we’ve got here, shall we?” he asked in a casual

tone.

“I-I can do this from my desk,” she mumbled.

He sighed. “There isn’t enough room at your desk for both of us, Marty. Would you

please focus? I’d like to get some work done if you don’t mind,” he said casually, but she

could hear the humor in his tone and that pissed her off.

“Fine. Let’s get to work,” she said, purposely shifting in his lap. His reaction was rather

pleasing. He sucked in a breath and tensed beneath her. A moment later she rethought the

move when she felt him harden beneath her bottom. She swallowed as he continued to

grow. Were all men this big? she had to wonder.

She could practically feel his smug smile when he realized that she could feel him. The

bastard. Deciding that she wasn’t going to be intimidated, she opened her mouth to egg him

on, which of course she knew was stupid, but it really couldn’t be helped.

“Tristan, do you mind?”

“Mind what?”

“Do you mind shifting? You have a
small
tube of chapstick or something in your pocket

that’s poking me.” Maybe she shouldn’t have emphasized small. Guys were kind of

sensitive about that sort of thing, right?

Chapter
10

“Oh, lord!” Shayne said between large bouts of laughter. “I knew there was a reason why

I liked the lass!”

Tristan’s jaw clenched as he watched his friend laugh so hard that he fell right off the

couch. “Small tube of chapstick!” Shayne repeated, taking obvious delight in his

humiliation.

He turned his glare to Marty’s back. She was tense on his lap as she shifted through the

files. If she wanted to play that game, it was more than fine with him.

He gripped her waist, picked her up, and placed her more firmly on his lap. Her gasp was

reward enough, almost. He leaned forward so that his stomach was pressed gently against

her back and his mouth was next to her ear.

“Is that better?” he whispered.

God, yes! “That’s fine,” she said with a shrug as if having his erection nestled firmly

against her bottom didn’t bother her. Damn, she should win an Emmy for this little

performance.

“Fine, huh? My
small
tube of chapstick isn’t bothering you anymore?” he asked in a

hoarse voice.

“No, I can’t even feel it anymore.”

Why that little……..oh, she was good. There was no doubt in his mind that she could

feel how excited he was. Fine.

Game on.

He tightened his grip around her waist as he subtly rocked his hips under her bottom as

he adjusted her again. She gasped and was that a moan?

“I’m glad that it’s not bothering you. Let’s get to work,” he said, resting his chin on her

shoulder so that he could see the files as they went through them.

“O-okay,” was Marty’s response.

She was in way over her head here.

-
-
-

Tristan noticed that Shayne had stopped laughing.

“Oh, that….that’s just not right. I don’t want to see this,” Shayne said with a mock

shudder. With that he popped out of the room. Good riddance, Tristan thought as he fought

against the urge to shift or rock against her, again.

For the next twenty minutes they worked in silence, skimming files and stacking them in

order. Tristan seemed relaxed as they worked while Marty was inwardly panicking. Over

twenty minutes and the damn thing beneath her bottom hadn’t ceased its poking! All of her

movements were awkward as she tried not to shift in any way no matter how tempting it

was.

“Can I ask you a question?” Tristan asked, caressing her neck with his warm breath.

That depends. “Sure,” she said in a bored tone.

“Why are you dressed up today?” he asked, hoping the answer was because she wanted

to dress up for him. He liked the sexy way she’d pinned her long hair back into a lazy bun

that left several long strands dangling over her neck, the sexy little business dress, and let’s

not forget the long legs and high heels. He could definitely picture those heels digging into

his ass while he slid in and out of her.

“I’m not dressed any differently than normal,” she lied.

The hand on her stomach gently caressed her as he ran two fingers from his other hand

over the almost nonexistent sleeve on her arm. “Yes, you are.”

With a slight shrug she decided to answer him and end the games, hoping he’d stop

distracting her with his touches and caresses. She was seriously wondering why there was a

need for Viagra if men were able to keep it up for over a half hour.

“I have a date after work and I didn’t think that I would have time to run home and

change.”

She felt him go completely still against her. The hand on her stomach tightened almost

possessively. “Oh? And who do you have a date with?” his voice was deceptively calm

while on the inside he was already contemplating killing the son of a bitch.

“No one you know.”

“Try me. I know a lot of people. It’s my job after all.”

She sighed, “It’s a guy I met with my friends at a bar the other night.”

“Does this guy have a name?”

“Roger.”

“Roger what?” he demanded.

Another annoyed sigh, “Roger Arnold.”

He chuckled darkly behind her. “You got all dressed up to go out with Roger Arnold?”

No, it was for Tristan, but she’d used the date as an excuse to dress up for work today.

“Yes.”

“You must like him a great deal to dress up like this,” he said, his tone laced with acid.

“Do you like him a lot then, Marty?”

She adjusted uncomfortably and moved to get off his lap, but he held her prisoner where

she was. “I think we should just focus on work. This is too personal.”

“How is it too personal for two old friends to chat? Or even for two co-workers who

share an office to discuss their plans for the evening?” His tone was hard and dangerous,

sending shivers down her spine. This wasn’t going to end well for her. For some strange

reason she felt as though she’d finally pushed him too far.

When she didn’t answer he continued. “So you don’t feel like talking?”

She shook her head.

“Then can I ask a question?”

“I guess,” she said quietly.

He carefully flicked a dangling strand of her hair. “You did your hair up like this for

him
?”

No. “Yes.”

“Uh huh…I see….” He ran his nose over her neck and inhaled. “And this lotion you

used. What is it? Blackberries and vanilla?” She nodded. “You used it for him?”

No. “Yes.”

Both of his large hands spanned her stomach and tenderly caressed the area. “And this

blouse that’s been driving me crazy all day, that was for him, too?” he punctuated the

question by pressing a soft kiss against her neck.

What did he ask? It took her a moment to think through her lust induced fog to figure out

what he’d just asked her. Oh, that’s right. “Yes.”

He flattened his hands on her stomach and moved them purposely down and over her

hips and then down her legs until they were cupping her knees.

“And the skirt? Was that for him as well?” he asked as he leaned back in the chair, taking

her with him until she was practically draped over him. His hands slid up and cupped her

thighs while his mouth gently sucked on her neck.

She closed her eyes and licked her lips as he kissed, sucked and licked her neck. They

were both panting heavily, but he refused to give her any quarter from his sensual attack.

He adjusted his legs until they were suddenly between both of hers and then widened them,

opening her legs wider. The action pushed her skirt all the way up to her hips, but she

barely noticed. His mouth felt so good on her skin.

He knew that he should stop, but he couldn’t. She had no business going out with any

guy while he was alive. She was
his
! Fuck doing the right thing. Where had that ever gotten

him? He wanted her and he was sick of torturing himself so that she could waste her time

on losers who didn't deserve to breathe the same air as her. She was his. He’d always

known that and he was done with pretending that she wasn’t.

“What color panties did you wear for
him
?” he whispered against her ear then sucked on

the lobe, earning a low moan.

“Black.” For you, she thought.

“Mmm,” he moaned against her skin while his tongue made a wet trail back to the spot

on her neck where he’d been suckling her and continued. He shifted in the chair and

widened her legs further. His hands slowly moved up her thighs, hooking his fingers in her

skirt and tugging it up a few more inches. One hand remained behind while the other

moved up her stomach and traced her ribs until it slid up and cupped her breast the same

time that his other hand dipped between her legs. He cupped her through her panties.

“Oh, God…,” she choked out a moan, unable to stop herself.

Tristan broke out in a sweat as his fingers traced her damp panties. So many nights of

fantasizing about touching her. He pressed a reverent kiss to her neck while one finger

snaked beneath her panties and pulled them aside. He was glad that he couldn’t see what

he’d revealed, afraid he’d embarrass himself.

Not that he had much experience with women. He didn’t and shouldn’t know how to

navigate her body this way, but something about touching her this way made him feel as

though he’d done it a hundred times before. He wasn’t sure if it was because of the

connection he felt with her or years of fantasies, but he knew, just knew, what she liked and

what she didn’t.

Without having to ask, he knew that she hated having her nipples teased with his teeth. It

reminded her of rough fabric and turned her off quickly. She loved it when he used his

tongue on her and he knew that if he did it just right that she would come a hell of a lot

faster and harder. He also knew that she hated having her feet touched or any teasing

touches on the side of stomach during sex, because it would make her giggle. He also knew

what it would do to her if he focused solely on her clit. She’d thrash under his mouth,

screaming at him to fuck her even as she threatened to kill him if he even thought about

stopping.

It should worry him that he knew what she liked in bed, but he didn’t care. He’d already