The Fantasy (6 page)

She gulped, her eyes wide, clearly intimidated but not yet scared off. Then she quickly glanced down, away from the intensity of his gaze, and noticed that his drink was low.

“Is there anything else you’d like?”

“Not right now, but come back and see me when my glass is empty and I’ll tell you exactly what I want.”

When she raised her eyes to his at the suggestive remark, he didn’t hide the bold way he looked her over, making her more than aware of what he was insinuating.

“Okay.”

For a reason he couldn’t quite pinpoint, the slight tremble in her voice made his cock pound. She would be a very nice reward after a long, hard day. A wholesome young thing always presented a tight hole and an eagerness to learn.
 

Yes, sinking his dick into that would be a fucking gift to himself, he thought as he watched her walk away to serve another customer. She’d be servicing his cock later if he got his way. And his cock
always
got its way.
 

As he picked up his glass, he turned to observe the other patrons mingling. He told himself that he was just passing the time, but when his eyes immediately found the blonde who’d left his side only minutes before, he knew what he was really doing.

He was watching
her,
and fuck, that pissed him off.
 

She was off to the side, laughing at something some fuckwit in an expensive suit was saying. If he was honest, he wasn’t a bad-looking guy, but then she touched him, those long, elegant fingers grazing his sleeve, and Evan thought he wouldn’t mind uglying up the guy’s face with his fist.

Why the fuck he cared, he had no idea, but as she smoothed her hand farther up his arm and gave it a light fucking squeeze, he had to hold himself back from walking over there and ripping it off.
 

Instead, he turned his face away and forced himself to look at someone—anyone—else. Reagan on the prowl was lethal. She hunted, stalked, and then consumed.
 

Much like myself
, he realized. The thought had him conflicted. On one hand, he admired her confidence and bold approach to get what she wanted. But on the other…

Suddenly, he heard her seductive laugh from where he stood, and it made his body stiffen.
 

Every
part of his body.

No. He wouldn’t think about the
other
hand. He drained the last of his drink and turned back around toward the bar.
 

***

Evan looked down at the ass bared to him as he gripped the sides of her hips and thrust his cock inside her. The bartender’s hair spilled down her back in red waves, and he reached out to fist his hand in them, tugging her head back.
 

He’d followed her to the private bathroom
when she had gone on her break, but she’d been the one to lock the door behind him. Enthusiastic had been an understatement—she’d dropped to her knees on the floor and sucked his cock like she’d had something to prove.
 

Now, she made soft whimpers every time he drove into her tight channel, and he turned her head to face him so he could cover her mouth with his, absorbing her moans. She tasted like a fucking lollipop, and he wondered if her pussy was just as sweet. He reached down to finger her clit, feeling her body jerk in his arms as he put more pressure on her. When she gasped, he eased up, sliding his fingers down her slit to cover himself in her juices, rubbing and teasing before coming back up to her sensitive spot. He could feel her muscles clench against his cock.
 

Bringing his fingers up to his lips, he could smell her arousal before the taste enveloped his tongue. He licked his finger from root to tip before pushing the other deep into his mouth. He groaned, and when he opened his eyes again, he caught her watching him in the mirror. Shock crossed her face, and he gave a depraved smile.
 

“I told you,” he said. “Fucking delicious. Now hold on.”

She readjusted her grip on the edge of the sink while he pounded her candied cunt. Her greedy body sucked his inside, and he’d been right; it was one hell of a fucking fit. Pushing inside of her had been sheer pleasure. Her walls had fisted him tighter than anything he could fucking remember, and every time he tried to pull out, she clung to him like he’d never get free.
 

That was all right by him. He wanted to stay exactly where he was until he’d gotten what he came for, and that was to reach for that high he could feel just on the other side of blowing his fucking load inside her.  

As her moans got louder, a knock sounded on the door, and he clapped one of his palms over her mouth before meeting her eyes in the mirror.
 

“Shh,” he instructed, his voice a low growl. “Fuck me.”

She nodded and pushed her hips back, urging him on. His fingers reached for her clit again, causing her body to tremble as she neared her release. Then he closed his eyes and let himself enjoy these last few moments of his cock deep inside his prize.

He was back in the game. He’d gotten the job... Reagan was his boss...
 

Reagan.
Fuck yes, that right there...

He gripped the redhead’s hair hard, twisted it in his fingers, and with the thought of an elegantly dressed, professional-looking Ms. Spencer peering down at him in her office, he came like a fucking geyser.

***

He threw away the condom and tucked his shirt in as he watched the bartender attempt to pull herself back together. Her pale skin was rosy, an effect of sex that wouldn’t be going away anytime soon no matter how impeccable the rest of her looked.
 

Giving her a light kiss on the cheek, he told her that he’d see her at the bar—a lie, obviously, but a quick way to appease any guilt she’d be feeling about their quickie. Then he opened the door—he was ready to get the hell out of that bathroom.
 

Standing there, with her arms folded in front of her body and an all-too-knowing look on her face, was Reagan.
 

“Jesus. You’re everywhere,” he said, instantly irritated at seeing her there.
 

Reagan’s eyes looked past his shoulder to the girl still pulling herself together before landing back on his. “Not
everywhere
you’ve been, thank God.”

The sight of her was causing any fucking pleasure he’d gained from that encounter to turn to anger and, yeah, fucking shame.
She was starting to make him crazy.

“Got to say, I’m glad you took me home. A quick fuck has never been high on my to-do list. I prefer a couple of hours at the very least...but you already know that, don’t you, Ev?” She looked around him again and asked, “Are you almost done? Some of us actually need to make proper use of the facility.”

He stepped in toward her. “Don’t call me that, Blondie. And don’t give me this bullshit about being too good for a bathroom fuck. If I’d wanted you there, I would’ve had you. Besides, you’re not staff, so there’s no reason for you to be following me.”

“This one didn’t have a line.” She made a small show of sniffing the air around him and scrunched up her nose. “Oh, she was very sweet, wasn’t she?”

 
“Like candy.”

Red chose that moment to walk out of the bathroom, and she stopped when she took in the scene in front of her. Her face was one of horror at getting caught.
 

“It’s not what it looks like,” she said, stumbling over her words as she tried to explain herself.
 

Reagan just shook her head. “Actually, sweetheart, it’s exactly what it looks like. Not that I blame you a bit. He can be quite convincing.” She pushed herself off the wall, towards the restroom, but as she passed Red, she stopped and leaned in so Evan had to strain to hear what she was saying to the girl. “It also helps that he’s got a large dick.” She winked and walked into the restroom, the door shutting firmly behind her, leaving Red shocked and him...oddly flattered.

As he stood there in the wake of Reagan and the expectation of Red, he was annoyed—annoyed at the woman who had yet again gotten under his skin. It was as if she were gaining some kind of perverse pleasure from it, but he wasn’t sure she even knew what she was doing to him.
 

She was tempting the beast, the one he tried and always failed to hide, and with every word and gesture, she incited the hunger, the ache he felt deep in the pit of his stomach.
 

She didn’t want him; she’d made that much clear.

And for that matter, he didn’t want her either. So why couldn’t he get her the hell out of his head?

The following Monday, there was a knock on Evan’s office door as he was setting up his desk, and Bill stuck his head in.
 

“Getting everything all set up?” he asked before pushing the door open and walking inside.

“Yeah. This computer is an asshole though.”

Bill laughed. “I’m sure it is. I hate technology. That’s why I call IT.” He leaned against one of the visitor chairs. “Listen, we have a meeting today with one of our larger clients, and I’d like you to take over their account.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Why do I feel like there’s a catch coming?”

“Welllll,” Bill said, scratching the back of his head as he drew out the word. “I do believe it’s a company you know quite well.”

“How well?”

“Ah…I’d say you’ve had close,
personal
relations with this particular establishment. Perhaps you could take Reagan with you. Let everyone see you’re back in the game.”

At the mention of Ms. Spencer, Evan’s cock took notice and he reminded himself,
Not an option.

“I can handle it without Ms. Spencer. I’m sure she has a lot to juggle.”
Including fuckwit’s dick from the other night.

“I don’t doubt that, but I’d like her to show you the ropes.”

“If you think that’s best.”

Bill nodded. “I do. Meeting’s at eleven. Good luck with your, uh...technology situation. If you need any help with that, don’t call me.”

An hour later, there was a much more perfunctory knock on his door, and before he could say, “Come in,” it opened and Reagan walked in.

“You ready?”

“I was told to be. I
can
follow simple orders.”

“I remember,” she said knowingly. “Although you put up a good fight.”

He shrugged into his suit jacket and grabbed his briefcase. “You know, that night, I thought you were a gift sent to ease all my sexual urges. For a few hours, anyway. But now, I realize you’re just a spawn of the devil sent to make my life a living hell.”

“Aw, you’re such a flatterer. I’ve barely made an effort, but now, I’ll make sure to kick it up a notch. Shall we go?” She didn’t wait for him to follow before heading down the hall.

Walking behind this woman was becoming something of a habit for him. But he had to admit that, if he was going to follow anyone around, Reagan would be his first choice. The woman had a spectacular ass.  

She punched the down button for the elevator, and when it opened, they stepped in, both making sure to stand on opposite sides of the empty space. As the doors closed, the air inside hummed with tension.

“Don’t get any ideas about this elevator,” she said, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye.
 

With that comment, he could feel his palms sweat as the urge to touch her became an exercise in restraint.

“Any ideas...such as? Your legs wrapped around my waist?” He took a step toward her. “My body pinning yours to the wall as you grind against my dick?” Another step. “Yeah, I’m not having those ideas.”

Reagan angled her chin to him and lowered her lashes as if contemplating his suggestion. “Ordinarily, I would say no to an elevator quickie, but…” She placed her palm on his lapel, but before she could do anything more, he reached up and covered her hand, trapping it against his chest.

“Say the word and I’ll hit the emergency button.”

Time seemed to stop as they stood there, neither making the first move, and just as he was about to say, “Fuck it,” and lose himself in her, the elevator chimed.

Reagan pulled her hand away, an almost-disappointed look on her face. “Time’s up.”

“Saved by the bell?” he asked as the doors slipped open.

“Saved from what?” She headed into the lobby and turned when he didn’t immediately follow. “You don’t scare me, Evan.”

He thought about that as he stepped off the elevator and walked towards her. When they were eye to eye, he stated, “Maybe I should.”

***

“Evan James?” Ron Whitehead, the CEO of Whitehead International, said in disbelief as he met them in the lobby. His expression showed his contempt for the man in front of him. “I thought you’d been run out of the business.”

Evan lowered his outstretched hand and shoved it in his pocket. Not even two seconds in the door and he was being put on the defensive.

“I’m sure ‘hoped’ is more like it,” he replied caustically.
 

“That little stunt you pulled cost my VP half his retirement in the divorce.”

“And how
is
Amy doing?”