Secret Desire (2 page)

“What the hell were you thinking?” His voice was demanding.

“Who are you?” His tone and the gleam in his eyes rooted her to the chair. On the brink of self-doubt, she pointedly reminded herself—she was Cynthia Lewis. A woman who wielded power in the world of publishing. Yet his complete command of himself drew her. This was a man who expected others to do exactly what he said. Nothing short of her complete fantasy warrior come to life.

“I’m from the twenty-seventh floor.” He straightened and raised an eyebrow as if that piece of information should mean something to her.

She hardly got out of her own office. What department was up there? Apparently totally alpha scorching studs. This was her chance, the reason she trudged out to the reception room and hovered around the front desk each morning. She bit her lip and decided—no regrets for trying “And?” She returned his mocking raised-brow expression in an eye-for-an-eye stare down.

“I’m Thornton Maxwell…your attorney.” He turned away, but not before she caught his look of displeasure. “God. Woman, do you even know what a mess you’ve got on your hands? We need to talk. A real pressure cooker is about blow.”

Cynthia froze. This wasn’t part of her erotic fantasy. What was he talking about? Should she just come out and admit she had no idea of what was going on or get him to divulge what demanded damage control?

She pretended unconcerned boredom in an attempt to buy some time to think. “Someone’s got his panties in a real twist.”

This wasn’t the first time she’d needed legal. But if he was her new go-to man, she was tempted to screw more things up.

This was a conundrum. He was too damn good-looking. This type of man didn’t appreciate a dumbbell. Did he know how hard she worked or that sometimes contracts needed to be bent? “Explored” is what she liked to call it. Wasn’t that why McGavock Publishing hired a boatload of first-year attorneys anyway? Shoot, he was probably upset because his weekend golf game was about to be rained out.

He paced in front of her desk while raking fingers through his thick, dark hair. Cynthia noticed the way he flexed and moved his arms, his muscles pumping and expanding. He stopped, spun around, and marched back to her desk.

“Lewis, when you cross out clauses and write your own notes into a publishing contract, we don’t have a legal leg to stand on in court when an issue is disputed. The things you’ve included to get an author to sign without consulting legal is tying us in knots. The next time you promise a writer the moon, you better consult me first and NASA second. Not whatever pops into that pretty little head of yours. You need my help with this lawsuit, and I expect your cooperation. You might as well know now that’s going to mean during office hours as well as evenings and weekends.”

His finger was pointed directly in front of her face. She imagined sucking the tip until her sex-crazed brain finally grasped his message.

What? She was floored. Her stomach felt punched, the fist of surprise still lodged in her ribcage. Her mind reeled. It wasn’t possible. She was being threatened with a lawsuit for a couple of silly additions to a contract, and now this man expected her to drop everything. Was he joking? Slowly she inhaled.

“I’m innocent.” She stared back at him. “Sure, I’m not beyond bending the rules, but a lawsuit? No, that’s not possible; it’s impossible. You’ve got to help me.”

“We definitely need a sit-down. Not your usual brush-off and expectation for legal to jump through a hoop. This one is serious.” His gaze swept over her face and downward. The space between them crackled with static energy. He was more than steamed. But he was ready to step in and help her. A spasm of pleasure trilled in her veins. He was her knight in shining armor. She wasn’t the enemy. Not his at least. With all that pent-up fury of his, it was a shame to let it go to waste. He was handsome beyond belief…another time, over cocktails or at a party, she’d not think twice about what her body wanted. His dark eyes weren’t all anger…passion brewed there, pulling the cords to her attraction, making her skin tingle. Oh, my. He wanted to school her good. But maybe she could teach him a thing.

“Thor…Thornton, sit down.” She recouped her confidence. He was in her dominion. The door was closed. Her assistant always knocked before entering. The glass panels were mirrored. He was so near…all she had to do was reach out to him.

She met his bad-boy stare with excitement screaming in her ears.

“Please.” She was almost purring, beseeching him over the rim of her eyeglasses.

“Fine, I’m all ears.” He pulled up a chair closer to her desk. “Well?”

She studied him. If the man ever smiled, he’d be drop-dead gorgeous. She let the papers slip out of her fingers, and she pushed her glasses up on top of her head. Cynthia rubbed her ankles together, and his eyes fixed onto legs.

Ding, ding. Johnny, she had a winner.

She lifted her legs and stood, acting as if arranging her papers was vital. She felt, rather than saw, that his gaze was upon her.

“Client-attorney privilege?” She rounded the desk, trailing her fingers along the surface.

“Yes, whatever you share. Go on.”

“Where shall I begin?” She stopped and leaned back on her desk, directly in front of him. Eighteen inches of space separated them.

“Haven’t you ever longed for something to the point of breaking a few rules? Just once?”

He held his spine erect. He gripped the armrests. She noticed the fine hairs on his fingers, but no ring. She placed the toe of her shoe on the corner of his chair, her ankle only an inch away from his grasp. Her silk skirt lifted, sliding up her thighs, and his gaze shot to the revealed set of black lace Agent Provocateur garters.

She licked her lips and unbuttoned a pearl button. He flared his nostrils ever so slightly. He stared at her fingers. She undid another button. He became a statue. A rather alluring, attentive one. She continued unbuttoning the rest of buttons. She didn’t open her shirt, hoping he’d notice her breasts were unhampered by a bra. The only sound in the room was their breathing.

“Don’t stop now.”

She opened her shirt, revealing ample cleavage. Her nipples hardened at the thought of his mouth teasing her skin.

She rubbed her leg against his thumb. He touched her ankle, lightly at first, before running his fingers up the back of her calf. She pushed her hips forward, her skirt lifted further up and over her thighs.

He made a low, primal sound, melting a reserve within her.

“Do you like what you see?”

Their eyes locked and she smiled. She traced a finger along the bottom of her lip. She stuck just the tip into her mouth and sucked, playfully removing any doubt of where this was going.

“Hmm,” she whispered. “What do you want?”

He closed his eyes and moved his hand over her knee. She went beyond merely teasing him to wanting to feel him deep inside her body.

He returned his gaze to her face. He stood, pushed back her shirt all the way. “You’re one beautiful woman.”

He shifted forward and touched between her thighs. The feel of him edging along her exposed skin ramped up her desire. He pushed aside her thong, drawing a gasp from her lips. She was really doing it—taking control of her desire, with a man who drove her wild despite barely knowing him. A tiny voice inside her wondered if that was really such a good idea. He flicked his thumb across her clit, releasing a tide of pleasure, and she drowned in longing, her inner voice silenced. A thrill beyond belief billowed up her legs.

“Do you know I’ve thought about you ever since I first saw you?” His voice was husky and seeped in desire.

“Me?” She moaned. He flicked his fingers over and around the spot she craved him most.

“Yeah, last year at the Christmas party across the room. It took me minutes to make it around the room and hell if you weren’t gone. I inquired about you.” He chuckled. “Heard you were only interested in one thing…the fast track. Nothing else.”

“I’ve got other interests.”

“I’d say not enough. I do know one thing. This is exactly what you need, isn’t it? A woman like you should be properly fucked at least once a day.”

Her body buzzed with a solitary yearning to have him take control. If only she could let go of the reins, stop micromanaging her life.

“Shut up and do it then.”

He laughed and thrust his finger inside her. She leaned back on her elbows, bracing herself against the desk, and lifted her other foot to straddle the chair. He slid two of his fingers into her, curling and rubbing. He pressed and swirled his thumb, releasing shimmering sensations from between her legs.

“Is this what you like?”

“Mmm.”

“Damn it, tell me.”

“Yes, yes. I could ride your fingers all day. I’m going to come.” She tilted her head backward and gave into pleasure. He stood between her legs, fingering her, and she couldn’t hold back. She was about to climax.

“Not yet.” He stopped.

She clung to the desk, her G-spot so overstimulated her muscles clenched and unclenched. The sound of him unzipping his pants was all she needed to hear. She lifted her head, and he pushed her backward on the desk. He lifted her knees. He grazed his cock along her sensitized opening. She inhaled sharply and moaned.

“My turn.” He pushed forward with one single, hard thrust and pulled back on her knees as he plunged deep inside her. She was ready for him when he slammed into her. He moved his hips, thrusting into her again and again as if fueled by unbridled lust. He hardened his lips into a jagged line. Then a thought slipped past her pleasure—would this moment become part of the rumor mill? She kept fighting the feelings of pleasure. What if this escapade discredited her? A fine time to reconsider her options. She closed her eyes, unable to dispel the thought that this would come back to haunt her. She was torn by wanting to give in to passion with the man she’d fantasized about for months and not knowing if her perfect fantasy might become an Achilles’ heel. She pressed her forehead against Thornton’s shoulder, digging her fingers into his arms. What she’d give to let go and let him deliver her into the realm of delicious sensation. For once she’d love to scream loud enough to bring the whole floor into her office.

He stopped moving. She opened her eyes and took in his arched brow and his hands on her hips. She stared back at him, uncertain of what to do. He cupped her cheek, feathering his fingers along her jaw. “Hey, don’t overthink this. I’ve finally got you where I want you and I intend to show you how much I’ve wanted this moment.”

She absorbed the heat pouring from his body, the expression in his eyes, and the curl of his beautiful mouth tempting her to take a chance. She might as well be standing on the ledge outside her office window for how hard her heart pounded.

“Give yourself to me.” He leaned over her and kissed her long and deep, his hard, wet cock pushing at her mound. Now, any attempt at distraction was impossible. He’d brought her to the brink of ecstasy, and she wanted to let go, give in to desire. She reached down to touch him.

“Shh, I’m in charge.” He laughed and gently flipped her onto her stomach.

He pressed opened her thighs, and she came up onto her forearms. His cock moved between her legs. He took hold of her, pulling her hips back toward him, and he plunged back inside her.

She moaned. She arched her bottom up against his body. His fierce expression flashed in her memory, but there was no use in fighting desire or the wicked lesson he was capably teaching her.

She bobbed her head rhythmically to the slamming of him against her bottom. “Oh. My. God.”

“Don’t come yet.” His voice was rough, hot, and demanding.

“No?” She was on the cusp of unraveling. She gripped the desk and gave into a spasm of pleasure. “I can’t.”