Riding Out the Storm (9 page)

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Authors: Emma Jay

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Erotica, #Romantic Erotica

BOOK: Riding Out the Storm
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“We
have a meeting in five minutes. A new client wants some ideas for a new
advertising campaign.” He looked from one to the other and his graying eyebrows
drew together. “Sorry you didn’t make it to the conference. You missed a lot,
from what I hear.”

“Yes,
I know,” Ethan said, and motioned for Jill to precede him into the office.

She
hated that, because she wanted to see him, to read his expression. She wanted
to talk to him, and couldn’t now.

The
meeting was a brainstorming session for a hotel chain. Jill sensed Ethan tense
behind her when he saw Zach already at the conference table, sleeves rolled up,
hands folded together. Zach greeted them with a grin, and she read every one of
this weekend’s activities in his face. She widened her eyes at him warningly.
Until she knew Ethan’s state of mind, she didn’t want to do anything that could
push him irrevocably away.

Jill
made a point of sitting at the opposite end of the table from Zach, with an
empty chair for Ethan, but he circled the table to sit by Cynthia Ruiz. Her
heart sank. She’d made all the wrong choices this weekend. Could she regain any
ground?

Mr.
Strait called the meeting to order and passed out folders with photographs of
the hotel from the client.

“I’ll
tell you what the problem is,” Zach said from down the table. “This art is
entirely too tasteful.”

There
was a pause, then a few titters.

“Definitely,”
Jill added, seeing the comparison he was making. “And the bedspreads and
curtains were designed in this decade.”

“There
seems to be a lack of shag carpeting,” Zach went on, as the rest of the team
stared.

“These
views are definitely of something other than a parking lot.”

“Trust
me, I’ve seen my share of hotel rooms, and the quality of this one, well, it’s
not questionable in the least. I bet they don’t even charge by the hour.”

More
giggles, the loudest from Cynthia Ruiz. Jill chanced a glance to see Ethan’s
reaction. He studied the photographs, his expression unreadable.

“Think
you two have an approach in mind?” Mr. Strait’s attention bounced between Zach
and Jill.

“Tongue-in-cheek,
but yeah, if the client will go for it,” Zach said, tucking the photos back in
the folder.

The
older man beamed. “Okay, I’m going to put the two of you on this. I want
something by Wednesday to show to the client.”

“No
problem. Just have to shuffle some stuff around.” Zach grinned down the table
at her.

She
glanced across at Ethan, whose jaw was tight as he averted his gaze and
gathered his things. Oh, no. She’d made another mistake.

Part
of her regretted it, but then she got angry. She hated walking on eggshells. If
she’d thought Ethan would be the type to judge her, she never would have
revealed so much of herself to him. She knew how to protect herself, after all.
Why should she change who she was to make him feel better? That he wasn’t the
man she’d thought he was hurt, but better she find out now instead of later.

She
gathered her own things, pivoted, and strode out of the conference room.

But
she couldn’t stop herself from waiting for the email that never came.

****

What
the hell was wrong with him? Ethan scrubbed his hands over his face as he sat
in his cubicle, not nearly private enough. If he leaned back in his chair, he
had a decent view of Zach and Jill working together in the conference room. He
heard Jill’s laugh carry now and then, and if he watched for any amount of
time, he saw Zach grin and knew the guy was thinking about fucking her again.

Ethan
should have been able to think faster on his feet in the meeting earlier, then
maybe he and Jill could be working together instead of her and that asshole.
Ethan had wondered all night what the guy had done to her to make her want to
be celibate for a year—had to be pretty bad, he figured. But not bad enough
that she couldn’t work with him.

He’d
wanted to talk to Jill, to apologize for the way he dropped her off at her
house, for everything he’d said that hurt her this weekend, when Mr. Strait
surprised him with the meeting. When he’d looked up after the meeting, Jill was
gone, ready to work with Zach.

So
now Ethan had a lot of making up to do, and it wasn’t going to be easy. He
needed a grand gesture, something that would make up for this weekend, for all
the fantasies that didn’t come true. For being a possessive asshole. She
deserved better.

****

“He’s
watching us, isn’t he?” Jill asked, bending over the table purposely, her ass
aimed in Ethan’s general direction.

“Oh,
yeah.” Zach leaned forward conspiratorially. “I feel kinda dirty.”

She
scowled. “I screwed up this weekend.” Then she winced at her choice of words.
No doubt Zach would have fun with that.

But
he didn’t, instead, sobering. “Maybe, in his opinion. What about in yours?”

She
straightened and shrugged. “I didn’t think I was that person anymore. I didn’t
want to be. I don’t want to feel dirty after sex.”

He
lifted his eyebrows, and she could swear she saw hurt flash in his eyes. “You
felt dirty after having sex with me? Even last year?”

She
dropped his gaze and turned her attention to the project at hand. “Not
immediately after. But yeah, we’d go to the sex club or do something else kinky,
so that I thought we were on the same level in our relationships. Then I’d see
you flirting with another girl the next day and I’d think about what we’d done
and that we would do it again and that it didn’t really matter if it was me or
someone else, and I felt dirty.”

He
frowned. “You sure you just weren’t jealous?”

She
sat in one of the upholstered chairs, crossed her legs and looked up at him.
She’d thought this through at the time, but realized she’d never loved him. “Not
in the way you think. I mean, you’re a nice guy and all, but you’re not Mr.
Happily Ever After.”

“And
that’s what you want, with Mr. Uptight over there?”

She
resisted the urge to look over her shoulder. “He’s only uptight compared to
you. And yes, I want a chance at it with Ethan. I think I deserve it.”

Zach
looked past her in Ethan’s direction. “But does he deserve you?”

****

When
Jill walked out of the conference room, most of her co-workers had left for the
evening. She hadn’t realized she was holding her breath until she saw Ethan had
gone as well, his work area neat, as always, his computer off. Clearly he didn’t
want to talk to her. Right. Message received.

She
didn’t want to walk out with Zach, so went back to her cubicle to fiddle with a
few things, check her email, until he called good night and she heard the
elevator door chime. Only then did she gather her things and walk out.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter
Six

 

“Jill.”

As
she passed through the glass door onto the sidewalk, the deep voice startled
her. Before she could turn to face Ethan, his hand closed on her arm and he
drew her against his chest. She caught curious glances of people milling
around, then he lowered his mouth to her ear.

“Do
you trust me?”

Her
heart pounded—he had to feel her pulse under his hand—but she nodded. Curiosity
compelled her as much as, well, she’d missed him.

“Close
your eyes.”

She
caught her breath at the huskiness of his tone, and did as he asked. She was
certain people were staring as something silky and cool covered her eyes, her
temples, and she felt a gentle tug as he tied the cloth at the back of her
head. Awareness washed through her, hardening her nipples. She swayed against
him, only to have him set her away from him, his breath hot against the back of
her neck.

All
her senses were heightened. She heard footsteps on the pavement, cars rolling
by, smelled the exhaust mingled with the delicious aroma wafting from the
steakhouse next door. But mostly of Ethan at her back, the warmth of his body,
his firm grip on her arm as he led her toward the street.

What
did he intend?

He
leaned around her and she heard a car door open. “Get in.” He rested his hand
on the top of her head so she wouldn’t bump it, and guided her inside.

Again,
her senses worked overtime, taking in a fruity scent. Strawberries, she
thought. He slid in beside her, but this was no cab, not the way it smelled.
She coursed her hands over smooth leather seats. A limo? Once the seat beside
her dipped with his weight, the door closed definitively behind him, the car
pulled away from the curb, the engine humming smoothly and her suspicion was
confirmed.

Ethan
sat close, his thigh against hers, and she heard him pull a cork from a bottle,
the splash of wine in glasses. A red, if she trusted the tickle in her nose. He
lifted a glass to her lips and she sipped, just a bit, because a giggle bubbled
out. She set back, lifting a hand to her mouth.

Then
his mouth was on hers, his tongue sweeping over her lips, tasting the wine from
her lips. She opened to him, but he did nothing more than dip his tongue inside
before he broke away.

“I
want to apologize for yesterday.” He brushed his lips over her jaw, then swept
her hair back over her shoulder to bare her throat. “I was a jealous idiot and
I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” His breath heated her skin, his mouth
millimeters away.

“I
should never have asked that of you. I already had my wild days. I’ve moved
past it. It’s not who I am anymore. I want you. Only you.”

He
brushed his lips over the shell of her ear. “Some day you’re going to have to
tell me just how wild you were.”

Why
not? He couldn’t think any worse of her. “You want to know what I used to do?”

“Not
now. I just want you now. But I am curious.”

“Never
anything like that. Never—two.” She was suddenly aware of the driver listening
on their conversation. “Never again. It was fun and I’m glad we did it, but
that’s not what I want anymore.”

“Good.”
His fingertips closed around her upper thighs. “Because I’m going to be enough
for you.”

“Ethan.
You don’t—” She was fully prepared to talk to him, but he slid his hand up her
leg, his fingertips on the insides of her thigh. She moved her knees apart to
allow him access, and held her breath as he skimmed his touch over the tender,
super-sensitized skin.

He
eased her onto her back as the car moved through traffic. She parted her legs
for his hips as he moved between them, over her, his hands pushing up her
skirt. She tried to wrap her arms around his neck but he captured her wrists,
pushing them to the seat above her head. She gasped and pressed her breasts
against his chest.

Then
he was gone, and she whimpered.

Until
he hooked his fingers in her panties and drew them down her legs, smoothing his
hand after them. Then he pressed something cool and round between her legs,
rolling it over her bare folds. She sobbed out a breath.

“What
is it?”

He
didn’t answer, but his stubble rasped against the inside of her knee, and
then—she couldn’t describe it. His hot mouth, the cool—whatever it was—stroking
up and down her pussy, over the hot throbbing flesh. She couldn’t catch her
breath, and the object burst, sending a cold gush over her cunt. He swept his
tongue from her opening to her clit, lapping up the liquid.

“Ohh.”
Pleasure rolled through her, not quite an orgasm, shaking her limbs. She lifted
her hips toward his mouth, but he withdrew his kiss and repeated the caress.
Her mind flipped through the possibilities. “Grape?”

“Mmm.”
He pressed it to her clit, cold and firm, and she orgasmed, pumping her hips up
to drain every ounce of the sensation that took the strength from her legs, her
arms, turning her bones to water.

He
rose over her and covered her mouth with his, letting the grape roll over her
tongue before she bit it, letting the blended flavor pop in both of their
mouths. His hands closed around her waist and for a moment she thought he would
slide his cock in her but then realized he was fully dressed. Fully aroused,
but fully dressed.

And
they were in the back seat of a limo, no doubt giving the limo driver a hell of
a show.

“Ethan.”
With effort, she lifted her hand to push the blindfold up, then stroked her
hand over his hair. “God.”

He
grinned. “Thank you.”

As
her pulse slowed, the questions started coming. When had he arranged this?
Where were they going? But most of all, “Why?”

“I
wanted to show you that I can be everything you need.”

“You
were, before.” She curved her hand over his cheek. “The way you look at me, and
the way you touch me, and the way you make love to me. That’s what I need. I
want to hear your voice and feel this thrill. I want to see you walk out of the
elevator and feel my heart skip.” She slid her hand down over his chest,
resting it over his heart. “Do you know that feeling?”

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