Count on Me (Petal, Georgia) (44 page)

BOOK: Count on Me (Petal, Georgia)
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She put her palms against his cheeks and forced him to meet her gaze now, willing him to listen and believe. “This is my choice. I’m saying yes.”

“You’re my—”

“Kiss me.”

She pressed her lips against his. Before one breath could pass to the next, the kiss turned raw and hot. His mouth explored hers as her ankle snagged the inside of his thigh. This close his taste, his smell, seared her senses. Sensations bombarded her, and she grabbed onto those impressive shoulders to keep from sliding to the floor.

After a minute his mouth broke off. Instead of pulling away, his lips went to that tender place right at the back of her ear as his fingers maintained a steady rhythm, back and forth over her.

“I know better than this,” he said.

The shiver started in her chest and shook to her knees. “Stop talking.”

One of those amazing fingers pushed up inside her. Her internal muscles clung to him, bringing him in deeper. When she tightened her thigh until it locked their bodies together, a groan rumbled from his chest. It sounded as if it had been ripped out of him.

A sudden stillness fell over him. His biceps bunched and tension radiated around them. Slow and steady, he dropped his head until his forehead rested against hers.

No, no, no
. “Linc?”

“Walk away.”

She shook her head, letting her hair drift over her shoulders. “No.”

“Please.”

“I want you.” She lifted his head and whispered the words against his lips. “Forget I’m your assistant and you’re the boss. Forget the rules. This isn’t about power and we both know it.”

He barked out a harsh laugh. “I should at least take you to dinner first.”

As if she could choke down a bite right now. “I doubt we’d make it to the elevator.”

He lifted his head. The steady gaze from those ice-blue eyes pinned her to the floor. “Then the wall it is.”

The words barely registered before he slid out of her arms. Frantic, she reached for him, thinking to draw him close again, but he had his suit jacket off and his shirt unbuttoned to his waist. His shoulders blocked her view of the rest of the plush corner office as the heat simmering between them caused her vision to blur.

She blinked to regain her focus. When it cleared, she saw a blank space in front of her. Looking down, she found the top of his head and her heart picked up in a crazy hammering beat.

She watched as his knees hit the floor. He tugged and pulled her skirt until the material bunched at her waist. Fingers danced over the lacey band of her thigh-high stockings. The ones she slipped on when she thought about him.

With his hands locked on the back of her thighs, just below her ass, he lowered his head and pressed a kiss against the damp crotch of her panties. When he did it a second time, her hips lifted away from the wall.

“Linc.” Her hands clawed at his back. “Do it now.”

His finger joined his mouth. “Not yet.”

The steady friction of silk against her sensitive skin had her insides clenching. The scrape against her thighs as he drew the panties down her legs to her ankles had her body shaking in anticipation. And when he traced his fingertip over the thin strip of hair that covered her, she almost shoved him to the floor and climbed on top of him.

“I want you inside me.” There, after weeks of thinking it and all those time she’d practiced telling him, she finally went with blurting it out.

“Soon.” He slid a finger just inside her.

“Now.”

“You’re so wet.”

Her hands went to his head as her palms smoothed over his hair. “For you.”

He glanced up at her then. The corner of his mouth kicked up in a smile that promised nothing but pleasure. “I’m going to lick you until you scream.”

“Yes.” The word escaped her lips more as a breath than a word.

“After you come—and you are going to come, Thea, over and over—I’m going to drag you to my desk.”

The words ricocheted through her, setting a fire in their path. “Now.”

“With you riding my dick and these soft thighs tight against my sides, I’m going to enter you. Deep, in one long stroke, like I’ve been dying to do since that first day you walked in wearing that prim navy business suit and I spent all afternoon mentally stripping it off you.”

Her mind cleared for a second. “Wait, you’ve been dying to…”

“Later.”

Her fingers tightened in his hair and words jumbled together again when his tongue licked inside her. Her heartbeat hiccupped as she struggled to bring in enough air to breathe. “I think I’m going to fall down.”

“I’ll catch you.” He mumbled the words against her and the vibration had her gasping.

“Do it now.”

You can’t keep a bad girl down…at least not without restraints.

 

Irrepressible Jasmine

© 2014 Sami Lee

 

Wild Crush, Book 2

After an affair with a Dom turns sour, Jasmine Campbell returns to Leyton’s Headland to build up some good karma by keeping her sister’s business afloat. For that, she needs help from real estate developer Aaron Sanderson—an old school mate who’s grown up movie-star handsome.

When Jasmine knocks on his office door, Aaron can barely contain his triumph. In high school he had an unrequited crush on Jasmine, but ten years on he’s better at close encounters with the opposite sex. He thinks he knows just how to handle Jasmine—with an aloof demeanor and a firm hand.

Little does he know just how firm a hand Jasmine needs.

Jasmine figures a fun vanilla fling will cleanse her sexual palate. Yet her lover proves himself surprisingly adept at satisfying her submissive desires. And soon she’s in serious danger of doing the one thing she swore never to do: fall in love.

Warning: Contains casual sex, intimate sex, slow sex, fast sex, rough sex, roleplay sex and spanking. So basically, lots of sex and spanking.

 

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Irrepressible Jasmine:

Aaron was on the phone when he glanced out the window and saw Jasmine Campbell striding across the street, making a beeline for his office. His gut clenched, his pulse rate leapt and he totally lost the thread of the conversation he’d been having.

Fortunately, the estate agent on the other end of the line loved the sound of his own voice and continued to drone on when Aaron fell silent. He was too focused on the sight of Jasmine walking toward him to participate in their discussion any longer.

She wore a sheer blouse in deep purple teamed with a miniskirt that barely came to mid-thigh—no stockings—and knee-high leather boots. Her hair tumbled around her shoulders, and the morning sun glanced off the dark strands, making them shine well enough for a shampoo commercial. Her striking eyes where hidden behind a pair of large-framed sunglasses. Her strides were bold, purposeful, as though she was a woman who’d just realized what she wanted and was determined to get it.

Christ Almighty, she was a knockout. She’d left him with a killer hard-on last week, and every male instinct he possessed had screamed at him to ask her out afterward, but he’d refrained by force of sheer will. He hadn’t wanted to come off too eager. Desperation was a major turnoff to women, especially women like Jasmine.

“I’m free for meetings right now, Vera.”

It was Trevor Long, one of Aaron’s best estate agents who spoke to the receptionist. Aaron had his own glassed-in office, but he kept the door open. His dad hadn’t done that, had always believed in keeping a separation between himself and his employees. But Aaron had never been overly comfortable playing the hardass, unless it was absolutely necessary. The open-door policy meant his staff felt free coming to him with issues or advice. It also meant Aaron could hear everything that was going on around the office.

Right now, Trevor had his ravenous attention fixed on Jasmine. He slicked back his already jelled-into-submission blond hair and fairly licked his lips in anticipation.

A wholly unearned sense of territoriality gripped Aaron. He covered the phone mouthpiece and called out the open office door. “Vera, when Ms. Campbell comes in, can you show her to my office?”

Vera Wilmington—a woman in her late forties with four kids and a twenty-year marriage under her belt—turned and looked at Aaron over the top of her half-frame glasses. Her gaze slid from him to Trevor and back. Her lips twitched. “Sure thing.”

Trevor’s face fell. “Oh come on.”

“The boss’s prerogative, Trevor.” Aaron grinned. “And she’s an old friend of mine who would, I guarantee, eat you alive.”

“Yeah, but what a way to go,” Trevor mumbled, returning to his desk with a serious case of the sulks.

Aaron worked at finishing up with Bill Leadbeater as he watched Jasmine walk into the reception area, perch her sunglasses atop her head and ask for him by name. Aaron’s heart performed a ridiculous little flip. She’d come to see him specifically. That was interesting.

When Jasmine walked in, Aaron nodded in acknowledgment. She took a seat in the chair across from his desk and crossed her legs, causing her black skirt to ride farther up her thighs. Aaron couldn’t help the way his attention snagged on the exposed length of supple flesh. Damn, she had great legs. Too easy and too damn fun to imagine them wrapped around his waist as he pumped into her. The images accosted him, and the stirring in his loins became more of a frenzy.
Jesus. At least pretend to be professional, dickhead.

Seeing the direction of his gaze, Jasmine uncrossed her legs and squeezed them together, sitting up straighter in her chair with her hands in her lap. The pose said “good Catholic schoolgirl”, something which Jasmine had never been. At least not in any way that wasn’t thoroughly filthy.

And now he was picturing her in a short checkered skirt and knee-high socks. Man, he really had reverted to schoolboy thoughts.

“Anyway, a client just walked in, Bill. I gotta go.” Aaron waited while Bill wound up the conversation, using the time to cleanse his mind of dirty imaginings involving the woman sitting across from him. It was bad enough last time that she’d seen how strongly she affected him. If he let her see it again, she’d know he could be reduced to putty in her hands, if she was so inclined.

But then, maybe Trevor had a point.
What a way to go.

At last he got rid of Bill and hung up the phone. He turned his full attention to Jasmine. “Well, hello again.”

“How are things, AJ?”

AJ.
It was what his pop had called him when he was a kid, what some had called him in school, so it always made Aaron feel about twelve years old. Considering he felt a little like a pubescent boy with his first boner, Aaron figured he probably deserved the assignation right now. “All good with me, Jas. You?”

“Good. Great.” She drummed her fingernails on her knee and bit her lip. “Actually no, I’m not that great.”

Aaron’s smile dropped a little as her words sunk in. “Why—what’s wrong?”

“Business is slow.” Jasmine gestured through the glass, where they could both see Summer’s Retreat. “My sister’s business.”

“We’re heading into the cooler months. Everyone’s business slows down a bit.”

“Not yours,” Jasmine noted. “I hear AJ Sanderson’s is booming.”

“I wouldn’t say booming, not in this property market.” Aaron tried not to be thrilled that she’d apparently been asking about him. “But we do okay.”

“I hear you’ve turned into a savvy businessman. Like your father.”

Aaron was sure she’d meant it as a compliment, so he didn’t deny it even though every cell in his body wanted to protest the comparison. He’d taken over AJ Sanderson’s when his father retired last year, he sat in the same office his father had inhabited for much of his career. The comparisons were inevitable.

Usually he let them roll off his back like water. For some reason it bugged him that Jasmine, of all people, thought he was like Andrew Sanderson, even though she could have no concept of the man’s faults.

“I prefer to think I’m my own man.”

Jasmine’s face fell. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

Aaron realized he hadn’t masked his irritation well. He held up a hand. “Sorry. The comparisons get a little old sometimes.”

“I can understand that.”

Aaron remembered how people—people like his mother and her friends—used to say what a shame it was that Rex Campbell’s eldest daughter showed no signs of the same ambition or intelligence that her father or her sister possessed. He felt like a spoiled prick. His dad hadn’t been perfect, but despite what went on behind the scenes people generally admired him. By association, Aaron had been afforded the same level of respect. The comparisons to his father might bug him from time to time, but at least they didn’t have the power to demoralize him.

Aaron wondered if Jasmine had ever been demoralized by what people said. If she had, she’d never shown it. But as Aaron well knew, people put on fronts all the time.

“So the thing is, I came to ask for your help.”

From the way she clenched her hands together in her lap, Aaron could tell that had been a very difficult sentence for Jasmine to utter. He sat forward and put his elbows on his desk. “What can I do for you?”

BOOK: Count on Me (Petal, Georgia)
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