Red Hot Rose Boxed Set (15 page)

I thought about it for a second.
 
It was time to be professional and put brains and ambition before pleasure.
 
“Starting now.
 
I’ve already discussed some campaign issues with you, so as far as I’m concerned this is a work meeting.”
 
It was only then that I realized I was going to take his job offer.
 
A hundred thousand dollars could pay off all my student debt and set me up in an apartment
with
food for a long, long time.
 
I could live frugally and make it stretch; and if I got that job in New York City that he suggested he had connections to, well, the sky was the limit for me.
 
All I needed was a way in, and I would work my butt off to take it from there.
 
And I would do it without sleeping my way to the top, too.

The hint of a smile ghosted his face before he pressed his lips together and nodded.
 
“Fair enough.”
 
He reached into the champagne bucket, taking out the bottle and topping off our glasses.
 
He put the bottle back and raised his flute up into the space between us.
 
“To a new, refreshed, and revitalized campaign,” he toasted.

“To me using my brain and not the hootchie to get ahead in life.”

He laughed as he clinked his glass against mine, tossing back its contents and fixing me with a gaze that I knew meant I was going to have a hard time with a certain part of our business arrangement.

I put my napkin on the table, not too full from dinner because of the reasonable portion sizes but completely satisfied nonetheless.
 
It was the tastiest dish I’d ever eaten.

“Dessert?” asked the waiter, after our dishes had been taken away.

Alexander looked at me.
 
“Will you allow me to order for us again?”

“Are you sure you want to do dessert?” I asked.

“Trust me, I’m sure.”
 
He looked at the waiter and ordered a crème brulée and something that sounded like chocolate.

After the waiter left, I asked him, “What was that chocolate thing you ordered?”

“A very simple dessert - the chocolat liégeois maison.
 
If you like chocolate, I’m sure you’ll enjoy it.”

“I trust you.
 
That dinner was excellent … the best I’ve ever had.”

“Good.
 
I’m happy you liked it.
 
It’s decent French food, as close to home as I have found over here.”

“Do you consider France your home?”

He shrugged.
 
“I have two homes.
 
One here, one there.
 
It’s always been that way for me, so I haven’t thought about it much.”

Our desserts arrived after some more conversation about France, and I couldn’t help but smile from ear-to-ear over the dessert placed in front of me.
 
“It’s an ice cream sundae!”
 
It was my favorite thing to have after dinner.
 
I rarely allowed myself to indulge in it, though.

“With a French twist.
 
Here.
 
Let me show you.”
 
He took the long-handled tea spoon and dipped it into the tall glass, pulling out a lump of ice cream dripping with deep, dark chocolate and topped off with some whipped cream.
 
“Try.”

He held out the spoon for me, watching my every move.
 
I leaned in, parting my lips, trying to ignore the sensual feelings that crawled over and through me at the idea of him feeding me this sinful treat.

The minute it hit my tongue I was in heaven.
 
This was like no ice cream sundae I’d ever eaten - and I’d eaten plenty of them.

“My god …” I said, moaning my delight, “mmmmm…”

He nodded.
 
“House-made chocolate, bits of praline, home-made ice cream churned earlier today, and genuine whipped cream.
 
You can’t beat it.”

I shook my head.
 
“No, you cannot.
 
Mmmm-mmmm-mmmm …”
 
I rolled my eyes as he fed me another bite.
 
“I am in heaven right now.”
 
I smiled, feeling like a little kid at an old-fashioned ice cream shop.
 
I took the spoon from him and dug in for another bite.

“I like to watch you enjoy yourself,” he said, his voice raspy, his gaze serious again.

A bit of whipped cream was on the corner of my lip, and I flicked my tongue out to retrieve it.

He leaned forward and grabbed my wrist, halting the spoon’s progress upwards.
 
“If you keep doing that, I’m not going to be able to fulfill the terms of your contract.”

My eyes widened.
 
“Are you firing me already?”

“Firing you?
 
Hell no!”
 
He dropped my wrist.
 
“I’m getting a fucking hard-on watching you eat ice cream.
 
I’m a goddamn mess over here.”

I giggled.
 
I couldn’t help it.
 
“Maybe you should eat some of this.
 
Maybe it would cool you down.”

He glared at me, but not unkindly.
 
“I’m willing to give it a shot.
 
Give me that spoon,” he demanded, holding out his hand expectantly.

“Ah, ah, ahhhh.
 
Just open your mouth,” I said, scooping out a generous spoonful.

He leaned forward, dropping his strong jaw open, exposing his perfect white teeth.
 
I couldn’t take my eyes off his tongue.
 
I only got the spoon partway to his mouth before I lost concentration, remembering what it felt like to have his wide, wet tongue in my mouth, on my neck and my breasts, lapping up the juices between my legs.

He took my hand gently, guiding the spoon that was in danger of dropping to the table, over to his mouth, closing his lips around it and shutting his eyes for a second to signal his enjoyment.

“Mmmmmm,” he said, nearly growling.
 
It sent a pulse of electric shock through my thighs and into my crotch.

“Good, huh?” I asked, my voice coming out a weak and trembling mess.

“I can think of something I like the taste of better,” he said.

I couldn’t take it anymore.
 
The innuendo, the gorgeous face, the tongue … I had to get out of there, if only for a few minutes so I could collect myself.

I stood, bumping the edge of the table and causing the glasses to hit plates and make a tinkling sound.
 
“I have to use the ladies room,” I said, unceremoniously dropping my napkin to my seat.

He smiled knowingly.
 
“It’s that way, through those plants and down that hall.”

“Thanks,” I said, hurrying away.

Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,
I chanted in my head all the way there.
 
I ignored the stares of the other diners, people who were probably looking at me because I was nearly running.
 
I was on fire, every part of me tingling with unmet desire.
 
A totally crazy, nutty part of me wished I’d brought a stupid vibrator in my purse so I could do something about this ridiculous amount of arousal.
 
It was impossible to concentrate or say anything even reasonably intelligent with so much need and desire running through my system.

I went into the bathroom, a group of totally closed off private little rooms, to try and get a grip on myself.
 
I hung my purse on the hook to the side of the door, putting my hands on the door itself and hanging my head down between them.
 
Okay, Rose.
 
Get a grip on yourself.
 
You are here on a business meeting!
 
You are making a huge career move, and you cannot mess this up.
 
Any minute he could decide to change his mind, fuck you, and leave you in the dust.
 
I thought about that for a second and then argued with myself.
 
Would that be so bad, though?
 
To be fucked like that and then left?
 
It’s not like you have a future together or anything.
 
Why not just enjoy it while it lasts?
 
That’s what Jessica would do.
 
And that’s what it took to get me to my next thought.
 
I need to get rid of this energy.
 
I looked around the large stall, its walls going from the ceiling to the floor.
 
It was completely private - no one could hear me or see any part of me.
 
I made a quick decision and shimmied out of my underwear.
 
One quick little bit of my own handiwork and I’d be once again as cool as a cucumber and under complete control of my libido.
 
Just one teeny, tiny orgasm and I’ll be as good as gold.
 
I pulled my dress up to my hips and spread my legs, putting my fingers down to my slit to begin stroking myself there.

A knock came at the door.

I froze in place, my face instantly going hot pink.
 
My eyes darted around, looking for the hidden camera I was sure was there, now that a manager or someone was coming to kick me out of the bathroom.
 
Oh the humiliation!
 
How can I escape?!

A voice came through the thick wood.
 
“Rose.
 
Let me in.”

“Alexander?” I asked, pushing my dress down.
 
“What’s the matter?”
 
I unlocked the door and peeked through the crack to see him standing just inches away from me.

“What’s the matter?
 
This is the matter,” he said, pointing down at his pants.

I looked down, thinking maybe he’d spilled ice cream there or something.
 
But there was nothing wrong with his clothes.

“What?
 
I don’t see anything.”

He took my fingers from the edge of the door and used them to pull my arm out of the stall, placing my hand on his crotch.
 
“Please.
 
I’m desperate.
 
I need you now.
 
Let me in there with you.”

I jerked my hand back.
 
“What?!” I whisper-yelled.
 
“Are you kidding me?
 
You can’t come in here!”

He pushed on the door a little.
 
“Why not?
 
No one will even know.”

My eyes darted around the space, and it was true … there was no one around, and all of the stalls were separate and very private.

He continued to push on the door gently and the juices that had already started flowing between my legs now doubled, as my mind and eyes strayed back to the bulge in his pants.

I stopped putting up a fight, and opened the door far enough to let Alexander all the way in.
 
He turned to lock it and then looked up at my purse.
 
The edge of my thong was hanging out of the top of it.
 
As soon as his hand went up touch them, I knew I was done for.

He pulled them out slowly and held them up in front of me as he turned.
 
“You were already on your way, weren’t you … before I got here?”

I dropped my head in shame.
 
“I was very distracted.”
 
I stomped my foot in frustration.
 
“You’re
very
distracting.
 
I was trying to get control of myself.”

He grabbed me around the waist and pulled me tight up against him.
 
“Why?
 
Why be in control all the time.
 
Why not just let go?”

“And what?
 
Fuck you under the table?”

“No. Fuck me here,” he growled, reaching down to his pants to undo his buckle, snap and zipper before I had a chance to protest.

My mouth began to water at the huge, hard cock that fell down heavily once it was released from its confines to point at my stomach.
 
The head was already glistening with pre-cum, and I couldn’t help but reach down and smear it all over the end of his hard rod.

He let his pants drop down to his ankles, pulling one leg out.
 
He pushed my dress up to my hips and put his hand down to my folds, burying his fingers inside them.

He hissed a breath out.
 
“Oh my god, you’re already so wet for me.”

I grabbed his shirt and pulled his head down to me.
 
“Yes.
 
I need you to fuck me now.
 
Don’t make me wait.”
 
The champagne was doing the talking now and I didn’t care one bit.
 
Let it.

He brought his lips down against mine firmly, his tongue invading my mouth and swirling around, pressing deeper and deeper, sending more waves of moisture to join his fingers below.
 
I wanted him to pinch my nipples and knead my breasts, his hand going up to do just that a second later, as if I’d actually asked him to.
 
He was reading my mind, doing exactly what I wanted him to do.