Sex Addict (10 page)

“Hey, Evan? Will you wait a minute?”

Fuck.

He plastered on his poker face as his guard went back up. Then he turned around to face Bill. There was an expression Evan didn’t like in his eyes. It looked like something similar to fucking concern. He hoped there wasn’t about to be a ‘come to Jesus’ meeting right there in the boardroom, or he’d be tempted to throw himself out the fucking window.
 

The man reached down to grab a manila envelope and held it out to him. Evan looked at it in confusion for a moment before taking it.
 

Bill laughed. “It’s just the numbers Reagan gave me to look over for the Whitehead account, not a pink slip.” When Evan jerked his head up, Bill continued. “You looked at it like it’d bite your hand off. No need. You seem to be getting back into things nicely, son. Accounts look good, and Reagan showers you with praise.” He leaned closer and said in a conspiratorial whisper, “But don’t tell her I told you, of course.”
 

He took the envelope from Bill and gave a quick nod of his head. At this point, it was the only reaction he trusted while the man was watching him so intently.

“She left before I could return them and she needs them for her final report. Can you take them over to her before you leave today?”

No. No, I fucking can’t,
was what he wanted to say. But instead, he managed a polite, “No problem,” and moved to step away.

“Oh, and Evan?”

He froze and gripped the report tighter, waiting for the axe to fall.

“Are you doing okay? You look a little...off today.”

He rubbed a hand over his chin and tried for a smile, but he knew it wasn’t fooling Bill for a second if the perceptive eyes watching him were any indication.

“Yeah. I’m just not sleeping that well. I guess it’s finally catching up to me.”

Bill tapped his fingers on the table in front of him and nodded in agreement. “Yeah, that’ll do it. Try and catch up this weekend, yes? We can’t have one of our top managers looking like he needs a week’s vacation. We need you alert, son. You know, to instill confidence.”

Evan forced a small smile. “Of course,” he said and walked swiftly back to his office.
 

Once there, he shut the door and leaned against it, quickly loosening the tie that was suffocating him. He took a gasp of air, but it wasn’t enough. After shrugging out of his suit jacket, he threw it over a chair along with the envelope and leaned back against the door, letting the coolness of the wood seep through his damp shirt. He hadn’t even realized he’d been sweating, the effort of trying to be normal and present at the office obviously taking a physical toll on his body.
 

Raking his fingers through his hair, he struggled again for a deep breath to calm his hammering heart. He didn’t know how to ease his suffering, and that’s what was sending him over the edge. He’d tried all of his usual go-tos and still nothing.
 

The addiction that had once ruined everything in his life was dragging him back under again. If he didn’t get a handle on it soon, he was going to fucking drown. He looked down at his shaking hands and was reminded of the very catalyst of his downward spiral—Reagan.
 

It was because of her that he’d started out on this never-ending quest to get his rocks off, and he knew deep in the pit of his stomach it was because of her that he fucking couldn’t. Exasperated, he moved over to where his briefcase was sitting on the desk. He needed to get this the fuck over with and go home.

A knock sounded on his door while he was gathering up his stuff, but he ignored it, not wanting to deal with anyone at the moment. He needed to wait until everyone else was fucking gone before leaving. No need for others to witness him in the rock-bottom state he was wallowing in.
 

The knock sounded again, but this time, a head peeked around the door. A blond head. A very attractive but unwanted blond head.
 

As Reagan took in his state of undress, her expression turned troubled. She stepped into the office and shut the door behind her. No words were exchanged as she looked at him, her eyes conveying understanding. Understanding and...fucking compassion. The look made him sick, and he turned away in disgust at himself.  

“Please leave.” His voice was quiet as he closed his eyes, his knuckles in fists on the wooden desk.
 

He wasn’t a praying man, but he would have said one now if she would just go away. The rope that held his body together was threadbare, and if it snapped, he wasn’t sure what he was capable of. And he just couldn’t let her see that. Not her.
 

“Ev—”

“I said,” he cut her off without looking back, “please leave. There’s an envelope on the chair for you. Just take it and go.”

The silence that engulfed the room was thick as they both stood frozen where they were. He was waiting to hear her footsteps taking her out the door and away from him. Away from the hell that was brimming just under the surface. But he couldn’t hear anything. Not one fucking thing.

He shut his eyes and squeezed them tight as he balled his fists until they hurt.
 

“Evan…” Her voice was soft, coaxing this time, as if she were treading carefully around a wild animal in the room, and really, with the way he was feeling, she was fucking smart to be wary. “Evan, look at me. Please?”

And isn’t that just the fucking problem? I don’t want to stop looking at her.

He shook his head, and as he did, footsteps came closer.
 

“Stop,” he called out, and her steps halted.
 

“I’m not leaving,” she said, her voice defiant.
 

He imagined that, if he turned around right then, he’d see her arms crossed and her head haughtily tilted up. That visual, the one of her confident and bossy as hell, almost had him swiveling in her direction. She wouldn’t remain so arrogant for long if she got her way; he’d have her pinned to the wall with his hand up her skirt in five seconds flat.
 

“Then you’re inviting trouble. I told you to get out.”

“And I told you I’m not going anywhere.” Her voice had climbed in volume as she stubbornly refused to leave. “Now turn around and tell me what the hell is wrong with you. You’ve been a mess all day.”

He laughed then, the hysteria inside bubbling up and forcing its way out in a humorless sound. God, she was testing his patience, and fuck, it was just about out.

Slowly, he pivoted on his heels, and when he was finally facing her, he brought his eyes up to lock with determined,
brown
ones.

“Okay, Reagan.” His voice was low, and as he drew out her name, he saw the way she shifted where she stood. Not so confident now that she was face to face with a man who was clearly holding on by a thread. “Now what?”

Her eyes were watching him carefully, gauging his every move, and when she took in a breath of air and pushed her hair back behind her ear, he noticed the way her breasts tested the shirt’s constraints.
 

She took a step toward him, and Evan couldn’t help but think she was either brave or incredibly foolish as she asked, “Now tell me what’s going on. Your bloodshot eyes aren’t fooling anyone. Did something happen?”

He gripped the sides of the desk by his thighs and focused on her beautiful face before him, feeling his lip curl in a derisive smile. “You.
You
fucking happened.”

She flinched at the menacing tone of his words. “Me?” When Evan didn’t respond, she got defensive. “And what exactly do you mean by that?”

His eyes wandered down her body inch by inch, taking in all of her. He didn’t think he’d ever seen a sexier woman in his life. It was then that he realized his dormant cock had taken interest.
 

Of course it fucking has.

Reagan looked immaculate. Her blond hair, styled in soft waves, rested softly against the silk of her shirt. It was a cream color with black buttons that ran down the center between two of the most spectacular breasts he could recall having ever seen.
 

The curves of her body were highlighted in a tasteful way beneath her black pencil skirt. But the way the shirt was tucked in, showcasing her tiny waist and the flare of her hips, made him want to grab ahold of her and hike it up so he could see what kind of lace was beneath it.
 

And she
was
the kind to wear lace. He knew because he remembered in stark detail watching her peel her magnificent body out of it once before, and fucking hell, that was what was going to get him the release he’d been chasing now.

“Hey.” She snapped her fingers to get his attention again. “What the hell is the matter with you? I’m not gonna ask again.”

“Oh...I see. We’re playing by Reagan’s rules, are we?” He pushed himself off the desk and began to slowly circle her. “And when you get your answer, what will you do? I doubt it’s something you want to hear…” he trailed off, stopping behind her.
 

The back of her was just as appealing as the front, and he had to force himself not to push her forward and on top of his desk. As his eyes ran over her ample bottom, he palmed his growing erection and took a step closer. She shivered when his breath grazed her neck but didn’t move away.
 

That surprised him. “Not running tonight?” he wondered aloud. “Does this mean I can touch you?” He ran his fingers down the length of her spine, and this time, she jerked away and turned to face him.
 

Her eyes flashed as she hissed, “No, you can’t fucking touch me.”

“I see,” he acknowledged as she shifted farther away from him, undoubtedly trying to create more distance between the two of them. “Then you should have left when I told you to instead of poking at me for fucking answers.”

She looked him over as if trying to decide the best course of action. Then she crossed her arms over her chest and stated plainly, “I’m still waiting for an answer, Evan. Stop trying to intimidate me and answer the question.”

He took a step toward her and let his gaze drop to the breasts heaving behind the satin of her shirt. They were straining the buttons he wanted to pop open with his fingers—or teeth—and when he was finally close enough that he could see the lace of her bra between the buttons, he moved his eyes back up to hers and pinned her where she stood.

“You’re the fucking problem, because for the last two weeks, I’ve had a fucking erection I can’t seem to get rid of. Day after day, I’ve watched you walk around, making my cock fucking ache to sink inside you again, and you know what? I’ve been on my best behavior. I’ve looked, yeah. I won’t lie. But did I touch? No...I went home and tried to forget. Tried to somehow relieve this craving you’ve built deep inside me, but I think I’ve finally worked it out...” His eyes trailed down her neck, watching her pulse beat rapidly as she lowered her arms to the desk to steady herself. “It’s you. I want you.”

Reagan looked taken aback by his admission. “But...that’s not true. I know what you are, Evan. I know it’s not about me.”

He raised his brows. “It’s not? What’s it about then? Please enlighten me.”

“It’s why you don’t do repeats. You’re an addict. I was just a quick fix for you.” She stopped and thought that over. “Well, maybe not so
quick
.”

“Definitely
not
a quick fix.”

“We both agreed it was a one-time thing. What’s changed?”

Evan blew out a heavy breath as he paced the room and gripped the back of his neck. “I don’t know. I don’t fucking know.”

She eyed him cautiously. “But you somehow think I’m the answer? You didn’t seem to have any problems at Nova the other night.”

“Jesus Christ. Because I thought about
you
!” he exploded, stopping in his tracks. “You came into my life, and you’ve fucked it to shit. I can’t get a good goddamn release without you. Do you see what it’s doing to me? You keep asking what’s wrong. Now do you see it?”
 

He knew he was losing it, knew he was going too far, but he couldn’t stop now. The throb of his cock was insistent, and he caught her eyes on his erection before she quickly tore them away. Reaching down, he rubbed his open hand over his pants and felt himself growing harder.
 

It was then that the main office lights shut off for the weekend, the room going dark except for the dim lamp on his desk and the sliver of city lights peeking through the blinds. The room was charged with sexual tension, and from the way she clung to his desk, he had a feeling that it wasn’t emanating only from him.

“Reagan…” His voice was like gravel as he tried to slow himself down. “Tell me you want this. Tell me you’ll let me have you.”
 

She took a shuddering breath as he unbuttoned his pants, his hand disappearing inside to continue stroking. “I can’t.” Her voice was barely a whisper, but her eyes were no longer fighting the urge to watch his movements.
 

“Yes, you can,” he coaxed, taking a step toward her. With every rub of his cock, he was growing harder for her, more desperate. “Just this once.” He moved again so that only mere inches separated them. “Let me fuck you, Reagan. Right here on my desk. Let me…”

Reagan looked him dead in the eye. “And if I do...what happens then? What about next week when some hot waitress can’t get you off? Will you come running to me?”

He dropped his head forward, stared down at the hand he was using to massage himself, and shook his head. “I don’t know. I don’t
know
...” He gritted his teeth, then dragged his blurry gaze back to hers, and pleaded, “Please, Reagan. You don’t understand how much I need this.”

She raised her hand and placed it on his chest, and if he hadn’t actually witnessed the action, he wouldn’t have believed she was finally touching him. Then understanding dawned across her face and she seemed to be thinking over her words carefully before she spoke.
 

“Here’s what’s going to happen, and since I’m the boss for now, you’re going to listen to me.” As she gently pushed him away from her, Evan’s heart thumped hard inside his chest. Then she said softly, “You’re going to stay here where I can see you. You think it’s me, the thought of me, that gets you off? Then you shouldn’t need to touch me to achieve that...should you?”