Three Hard Lessons (3 page)

Hidden high in the corner of the room, there was a closed circuit camera, and up in Joseph’s office, Nina and Joseph would be monitoring the feed for security. She had to be wondering what the hell was going on. I glanced at his hunched shoulders and how he had his head cast down.

“Dom, can I be honest, too? I’m terrible at talking. It makes me kind of uncomfortable.” The idea took shape and then I blurted it out. “I’ll be better at it if I’m distracted.”

I put my hand on his thigh, halfway between his knee and his hip. Not too high to be aggressive, but not too low to be considered merely friendly. It was another club no-no. The client initiated, not the girl. Part of me no longer cared about the rules.

It was because part of me wanted him. This strange spark between us was intoxicating and disarming. If I’d run into him at a bar on one of my recruiting crawls, I would have snatched him up in a hot second.

His warm hand crushed mine as he leaned in again, his mouth hovering dangerously close to mine. “How do you suggest I distract you?”

It was a bullshit question and he knew it. Lips descended on me, but this time into the side of my neck, and I gasped. I jolted under his kiss and tilted my chin up and away, giving him better access. The cushion shifted under me as he stood. One hand cupped my jaw while the other ventured inside the jacket, working its way around to my back. He yanked me tight against his hard body, my legs falling to part around him and his wide hips. My cheek rested against the tough skin of his palm while he sucked on my neck, licking and teasing me with teeth.

I goddamn shuddered under his power.
Me.
I struggled to find air through my slack mouth. Jesus, what he was doing felt good.

“What’s your name?” he mumbled into my skin.

“. . . Paige.” For the first time ever, I felt bad about lying, but it was too dangerous to use my real name.

“Fake or real?” He worked a path of kisses down to my collarbone.

I wasn’t supposed to touch unless given permission, but I found his head in my hands, my fingers weaving through his soft, thick hair. The long suit sleeves were bunched up at my elbows and constricting, but I liked having the jacket on. I liked wearing part of him.

“Fake,” I whispered. “You understand why–”

“Yeah.” His rough voice rumbled at the base of my throat. He was coming back up. “I’m going to kiss you again. It won’t be an accident.”

My heart pounded in my chest and I sucked in a breath. “Dom–”

Too late. His hot mouth crushed against mine and this kiss wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t sweet or curious. It was demanding. Urgent. Passionate. The kind of kiss a man waited a year to give a lucky woman, and I was that fucking lucky woman. My moan was loud and my hands clenched fistfuls of his hair, trapping him where I wanted him. I was drugged by these strange feelings, and thirsty for more.

He tore his lips away from mine and stared down at me with a discerning and sharp look. “Was that reaction fake or real?”

I couldn’t breathe, but I managed to speak on a shaky voice. “Real.”

The side of his mouth lifted in a pleased smile. “Then fucking kiss me.”

chapter

THREE

Sitting on the table with Dom towering over me, his hands inching their way toward my breasts, was exciting. The tingling anticipation built with each painfully slow move, creeping leisurely toward the nipples that were hard and sensitive beneath the silky lining of the jacket.

His tongue was deep in my mouth, each wicked stroke over mine better than the last, urging me to come play. I was more focused on my hands and had several buttons of his shirt undone before I paused.

“Is this okay?” I asked.

He resumed kissing me, giving me his answer by helping me undo the rest. I flung the shirt and my jacket open and shifted until I was all the way at the edge of the table, leaning into him. My breasts pressed against the hard angles of his defined chest and we both sucked in a breath. Skin on warm, soft skin.

“That feels so fucking good,” he said.

He didn’t have to tell me, not just because I agreed. The evidence that he liked it was hard on my inner thigh. My legs wrapped around his hips, drawing him closer. I reached for his belt buckle, and as I tugged on it, he straightened. A hand locked on my shoulder and shoved me, sending me backward until I was flat on the cushion and staring up at the chandelier.

“Slow down, Paige.” His warning was sort of playful, but sort of not. The rough voice made everything sound like a command, and that also made me insane with lust. “You haven’t been talking at all.”

“You make that hard when you keep breaking my rule.”

As I’d fallen onto my back, the hand on my shoulder shifted and caressed down my body, brushing over my breast. It trailed over my waist, down over my hip . . . and down . . .

“Tease,” I blurted out. He’d skimmed his fingers in the hollow of my inner thigh. One goddamn inch from where I wanted it.

“It’s only teasing if I don’t do it eventually.” He traced the hollow on the other side. “I could say the same thing about you. Doesn’t this have you distracted enough to talk?”

He had a point. I searched for something to get the awkward conversation going. “What do you do in Japan?”

“I confirm US inventory on container ships so it can pass through customs without incurring a tax when it arrives in California.”

Wow, thrilling. “Do you like your job?”

His gaze drifted across the landscape of my exposed skin. The opening edges of the jacket were hung on my breasts, covering them, but everything else was on full display. I mean, total display because I had Brazilians religiously.

“My job’s necessary to save the company millions of dollars. After another year, I’ll come back to new opportunities that weren’t available before.”

A smile crept across my lips. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“My job blows, but the money’s fucking amazing.” His eyes turned serious. “What about you?”

“Me? I like what I do.” It came out kind of indifferent.

“Fake?” The coarse skin of his palm glided back up, urging the jacket open to expose a nipple to him.

“Real,” I said. “I used to love it, but . . .”

The hand finished its journey to my breast, closing on the skin. His eyes hooded as he watched me arch my back into his touch.

“Why don’t you love it anymore?” His rushed breathing was the same as it had been when he first came in the room.

“It’s a stupid reason. I don’t want to talk about it.” I let a hand wander over the ridges of his six-pack abs, staying above the belt.

He leaned over me, supporting himself on one hand while the other traced circles on my nipple. Then, his head dropped down and something wet replaced his touch, caressed me. I moaned. Finally we were moving past freshman year of high school.

“Come on, tell me.” Lips fluttered against the curve of my breast. “I can find better ways to distract you.”

Oh, fuck it. “My best friend fell in love and is getting married.”

He went wooden.

“All of my other friends,” I continued, “are already married, or have kids.” I couldn’t put it into words, but I felt like I’d spent too much time fucking around and I’d missed my window. I didn’t want the white picket fences and mini-van life, but I wanted to mean something to someone. I was selfish and greedy. I wanted someone to belong to me. “I feel like I’ve been left behind.”

“Shit,” he said, hushed. “I know exactly what you mean.”

And then his head dipped back to my breast and drew my nipple into his mouth, sucking at me. A bolt of white-hot pleasure shot between my legs.
Yes.
It was plenty distracting, but he wasn’t done yet. The pads of his fingers inched downward until he buried them between my legs.

I moaned. Just the faintest touch had me breathless.

“Do you like this?” he whispered. “Real?”

“Yes, very real.”

He searched and found the nub of flesh, swollen and already aching for him, his fingers rolling a small circle and increasing pressure. This moan was loud and grateful. The whiskers dotting his jaw scraped over the valley of my breasts as he pushed the jacket aside and traveled to the other nipple. Cold air washed over the wet skin he’d left behind, making the knot of flesh harder.

“I’m thirty three years old,” he said, “and the last of my friends proposed to his girlfriend a month ago. I know they’re all wondering what’s wrong with me.”

It was getting hard to think with how his hand was pleasing me and the almost nonexistent filter I had burned away to nothing in my need. “Is something wrong with you?”

“Other than the fact I’m willing to pay thirty grand to have a conversation? I don’t think so.”

Shit, we better do more than just have a conversation. I shifted my hips, trying to get him to slip a finger inside me. His lips moved up and returned to mine. Every time he kissed me, it was like the wires crossed in my brain. I didn’t want it—and I was desperate for it.

“I didn’t have a problem meeting women here, but I didn’t get too serious about anything when I found out I was moving to the other side of the world.” The heat spreading from his touch made my stomach tighten. “You must be fighting the guys off. What’s your story?”

I got my wish when he eased a finger inside me, all the way in.

“I get bored,” I gasped, opening my legs wider, and bit down teasingly on his bottom lip. “Most guys aren’t up to the challenge of me.”

“Are you too much to handle, Paige?” He thrust his middle finger gently into me, his thumb moving on my clit. The sensation drove me crazy with lust. I clawed at the bare skin of his chest, wanting more.

Was I too much? “Definitely,” I answered. “Can I have another?”

The blue eyes flared with desire and he straightened to his full height. I loved how he looked. Hair ruffled from my fingers, his shirt undone and hung open, his piercing gaze locked on me, spread out before him.

“Maybe you’re too much for other guys,” he said, “but not for me.” The second finger joined in, filling me where I was damp and hot. I bucked on the cushion top with a cry of pleasure, my hands clenching fistfuls of his dress shirt. I didn’t know if I was trying to bring him closer or if it was a simple reaction from the overwhelming desire flooding my veins.

This is the guy who I’d made blush. Twice. “You’re in way over your head with me, Dom.”

“Says the woman who doesn’t like kissing, or talking, and I’ve gotten you to do both in less than fifteen minutes.”

My eyes widened.

“Yeah,” he said as he increased the speed of his thrusts, his fingers pumping in and out of me. “I think I’m doing all right.”

He was doing better than all right. “Fuck, you’re going to make me come.”

The corners of his mouth lifted in a wicked smile. “What will that taste like?”

What–? He dropped down to his knees, bringing his head level with the table.

“Oh, god, yes. Taste it,” I begged. The sight of his head positioned between my thighs nearly brought me to orgasm.

“Scoot back and I will,” the rough voice said.

I did immediately. Warm breath hovered over my pussy. My muscles tightened in hungry anticipation for his tongue, and then . . .

Flames licked at me where his tongue did. I jolted up onto my bent elbows, but threw my head back as a startled moan tore from my mouth.

“Oh, god, Dom. Fuck me with that mouth.”

It hadn’t been like this. Not ever. Sometimes a guy liked eating pussy, but that was always for him. I’d put on a show, pretend he was much better than he was until I faked an orgasm and he got excited thinking he’d gotten me off. The sensation now was different. Dom wanted to please me. Not because he wanted to show off his sexual prowess; I think he simply wanted me to enjoy it.

“Are you going to come for me?”

“Yes, yes . . .”

Fingers filled and stretched me, plunging and retreating. The wicked rhythm grew the intensity in my center, and that tongue— It was magic. Pinpricks needled up my spine and my legs shook. I panted for air. I writhed against the mouth sucking and fucking me, his tongue fluttering at a furious tempo.

“Fuck,
fuck
!”

The orgasm seized me and I screamed. Pleasure exploded outward in all directions, sending warm bliss rushing through every cell of my body, and leaving pleasant numbness in its wake. My hands had jerked his head hard up against me, and I relaxed the grip as the pleasure began to fade.

His voice rang out between my punctuated gasps for breath. “It tastes good.”

I shuddered. I loved hearing that, but I wondered . . . “Fake?”

He chuckled. “Real.” What reason would he have to lie? He had thirty thousand excuses to be honest. His fingers remained inside me. They’d slowed but were still moving. “Tell me something you’ve never told anyone else.”

I struggled to catch my breath and searched for something to satisfy his request.

“My favorite movie is
Airplane
.”