In Love With Lucy (NSFW) (8 page)

Read In Love With Lucy (NSFW) Online

Authors: C.C. Wood

Tags: #Romance, #Erotica

“Love you,” I murmured.

“Call me this week, okay?”

I nodded and closed the door behind her. I was exhausted so I cleaned up half-heartedly, throwing away pizza boxes and carrying glasses into the sink. Then, feeling emotionally wrung out, I changed into my pajamas and crawled into bed.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t sleep. I stared at the ceiling, thinking about the last few years of my life. Grier was right. I’d closed myself off from any possibility of finding someone to share my life with and I’d done so well before I ever started working for Chris.

I hadn’t been seriously involved with anyone before my internship for Marcus. My main focus had been on taking care of myself and furthering my dreams, not finding love. In my head, I knew there was nothing wrong with that, but four years was too long. I’d barely dated, though there had been a couple of unsatisfying flings on occasion, and, somewhere along the way, I’d given up on the possibility of meeting my soul mate.

I rolled over onto my side and sighed heavily. It was time to take a risk. Chris appealed to me on so many levels and I wouldn’t be his employee for much longer. Though it scared me more than I wanted to admit, I was ready to take that chance.

Chapter Eight

I
arrived at work
the next morning, my decision made. Now I only had to figure out how to let Chris know I was interested without acting like I expected anything. Though, honestly, I was hoping for something sizeable in return and a mind-blowing orgasm would be a good start.

I was surprisingly calm about the entire situation. It seemed as though my subconscious had been waiting for me to arrive at this conclusion all along. I only hoped that I could share all this with Chris without humiliating myself, and I had to do it today. Otherwise, I’d procrastinate until I lost my nerve and I would forever be stuck in the rut I’d created for myself.

I walked into the office, every inch the self-assured assistant I’d been the last three years. The receptionist wasn’t at her desk yet and Chris’ office door was shut tight. I placed my purse in the bottom drawer of my desk and started the morning ritual of making coffee. I’d just finished pouring two cups and replacing the carafe when a tall body lightly pressed against my back. I watched as he reached around me and hooked two fingers into the handle of one of the mugs. Transfixed by the sensation of his body heat surrounding me and the sight of his long fingers clasping the handle, I froze.

The repressed attraction I felt toward my boss exploded into something uncontrollable and hot, causing sparks to cascade throughout my body. I took a shaky breath, looking over my shoulder. When my eyes met his, he smiled, but quickly faded. I grabbed the edge of the counter as my knees went weak.

Chris’ face began to lower toward mine. It took everything I had not to jump him. He was about to kiss me again and I wanted it. I wanted it badly.

Suddenly, the phone in my office rang, piercing the cloud of lust that had built around us. I jumped, bumping into Chris. He cursed as coffee splashed out of his cup and onto his hand. I barely managed to pull myself together and move around him, walking on unsteady legs to my desk to answer the phone.

“Barden Business Solutions, Lucy Daniels speaking.” My voice was husky and low. I cleared my throat.

“This is Landen Weber. I’d like to speak to Chris.”

“Just one moment, I’ll see if Mr. Barden is available.” I placed him on hold and looked up to find Chris standing in the door between the kitchenette and my office. “I have Landen Weber on hold for you.”

He grimaced and took a sip of his freshly refilled cup of coffee. “Landen always did have a horrible sense of timing. I’ll take it in my office.”

I watched him walk through the door of his office and took a deep breath. Somehow, when I made the decision to see where this attraction to Chris might lead, I unleashed traitorous hormones that were immune to logic or control.

When he reached his desk and grabbed his phone, Chris turned and looked over his shoulder at me, those icy blue eyes shimmering with heat. I knew what those eyes were promising me and I was tempted to follow him inside, lock the door, then ride out a few fantasies of my own on the leather sofa in the corner.

Instead, I walked back into the kitchenette, poured out the cold coffee, and refilled my mug. After I sweetened the brew, I went back to my desk and settled in to answer emails and organize Chris’ day. We had more work and meetings scheduled for BioSign Corp in Fort Worth. However, today, they were gathering in our office to continue discussions.

Chris left the door connecting our offices open and I could hear him moving around and I would occasionally catch a whiff of his cologne. As the day dragged on, I drew closer and closer to the end of my self-control.

Somehow, he knew and used it to his advantage. Between meetings, as we worked together preparing files, his hand would brush mine or his arm would rest against me. Once, while I was sitting at my desk, he leaned over me, his torso pressed against my upper back, to point out something on the computer screen. As he drew back, he dragged a finger across the exposed skin of my neck. I shivered slightly as goose bumps spread across my skin.

Every touch, every glance, increased the fire in my blood. I also knew without a doubt that Chris intended to turn me into a puddle of mindless need. Somehow I managed to get through the day without attacking him or making an emergency trip to the ladies’ room to relieve the ache centered between my legs.

The receptionist stuck her head into my office shortly after five to say good-bye. I waited a few minutes before I went out and locked the main door to the office. It was something I normally did when Chris and I worked late, but today it felt different. Intimate.

I walked back into my office and sat down at my desk to finish up the last of my paperwork for the day. I was almost finished and I felt doubt creeping in. It was obvious that Chris was physically toying with me, yet he kept all our conversation strictly work-related. I sighed deeply, shutting down my computer. It seemed today would not be the day I broke my dry spell.

“Lucy, I need to speak with you a moment before you leave.”

I scowled, my back to the open door of Chris’ office. Then I carefully schooled my face, mentally cursing him for getting me so hot and bothered and then leaving me high and dry. I stood and walked into his office. He was sitting behind his desk, his tie missing, and his sleeves rolled up over his forearms. His dark hair was mussed and his jaw held a hint of five o’clock shadow. He looked more dangerous and sensual than ever before.

“Shut the door.”

My heart stopped then began to hammer in my chest so hard that I was sure he could hear it from across the room. Maybe he wouldn’t leave me in misery after all. For once I didn’t argue, I just did as I was told. Typically bossy men turned me off, but I’d been anticipating this moment all day and I didn’t want to do a single thing to delay what would happen next.

I closed and locked it, just in case. Then I faced him, my hands behind my back and resting against the door.

“Come here.”

My knees wanted to give way as I approached his desk. I stopped directly in front of the modern monstrosity that was shaped like a giant letter L. He kept it immaculate, his laptop and pens off to the shorter side so that the area in front of him remained uncluttered when he held meetings.

“Come here, Lucy,” he said harshly.

I realized he intended for me to walk around the desk. As I moved toward him, he shoved his chair back slightly. When I was within reach, his arm shot out and his hand snagged the wide white belt I’d paired with a slightly retro black shirt dress. I gasped as he pulled me in front of him. My cherry red stilettos made me exactly the right height to rest my ass against the top edge of his desk.

“Spread your feet.”

I swallowed hard and moved my feet hip width apart. I knew I should speak, but couldn’t think of a single thing I wanted to say. My outgoing nature seemed to have deserted me. Instead, I watched him silently, my eyes wide, as he grasped my hips with both hands and lifted me onto the desk without getting up from his seat. I gasped when my ass hit the desktop, shocked that he had the strength to lift me like that from a seated position.

Chris moved his hands from my hips to the tops of my thighs over my skirt, smoothing downward toward the hem. “I’ve imagined this so many times. If you plan to stop me, now is the time.”

His voice was rough with need and something else. Desperation, maybe? I couldn’t decipher it because my entire focus was centered on the glide of his fingertips along my legs to the edge of my skirt. I watched as they slid slightly beneath the hem to touch the silky material of my thigh highs.

“Lucy, if you want me to stop, tell me now,” he demanded harshly.

I shook my head. “No, don’t stop.” My own voice was just as hoarse as his.

He closed his eyes and bowed his head slightly, taking deep, quick breaths as though he were about to dive into a very deep, cold pool. When he looked back up at me, I squirmed on the desktop. Slowly, his hands moved to the buttons that ran the entire length of my dress and I bit my lip in anticipation. That morning I had been optimistic enough to hope that, once he was aware of my feelings, Chris would want to act immediately, so I’d worn sexy black thigh highs and a matching black underwear set with little white polka dots and lace trim. My effort wasn’t wasted.

As soon as Chris saw the tops of my hosiery and the front panel of my panties, he froze. Carefully, he spread the material of my dress, leaving the buttons at my waist and the belt in place. I whimpered as one rough fingertip traced the skin above the elastic of my thigh highs. His other hand lifted to the top button of my dress.

“You wore this to drive me insane, didn’t you?” he asked as he began to undo the buttons at the neckline.

“No,” I lied.

He stopped what he was doing, his molten blue eyes piercing me.

I sighed. “Okay, yes. I wanted to be sure you couldn’t resist me.”

His gaze lowered to my chest, where two more buttons were undone and the white lace edge of my bra peeked out. “No chance of that. I have no hope of resisting you any time I see you.”

His words gave me pause, but I was distracted from my train of thought by the sensation of his hands sliding into the open front of my dress and over my breasts as the material parted to reveal the black and white polka dot bra.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured.

I moaned softly as he leaned forward, his mouth latching on to the inner curve of my breast. He sucked gently at first, then stronger, causing my nipples to harden. His hand tugged the cup of my bra beneath my breast and his mouth moved toward my nipple. I saw that he’d left a small purple mark on my skin, but didn’t care. The sensation of his tongue lapping at my nipple made me arch, throwing my head back to stare at the bright white ceiling of his office.

I placed my hands on the desk behind me, resting more of my weight on them, as he pulled down the other cup of my bra, using his finger and thumb to tug at my nipple.

“Oh God,” I whimpered. It felt incredible.

He continued to lick and suck at my nipples, alternating from breast to breast until I was writhing and moaning on his desk, completely unaware of anything outside of his mouth and his hands all over my feverish skin.

I jerked as one of his fingers hooked my panties, shoving them to the side, before delving deep inside of me.

“That feels so good,” I whispered.

Chris made a guttural sound in his throat and lifted his head from my breasts. I looked down to see him hook his index fingers into each side of my underwear.

“Lift your hips,” he muttered.

I did as he said and he pulled the panties down my legs. I had no idea where they ended up because his hands were back, shoving my thighs apart. I watched wordlessly as he used his thumbs to open me.

“You’re so wet,” he said, as though to himself, as the pad of his thumb moved to press my clit. “Wet and hot. I’m sure you taste fucking incredible.”

My hips bucked at his words as well as the gently, insistent movement of his thumb against my flesh. Chris didn’t swear often, and hearing him say that particular phrase made me shoot toward the edge of an orgasm almost immediately. A few more minutes of his caresses and dirty talk and I would go off like a rocket.

The movement of his hands stopped and I whimpered.

“Fuck, now I have to eat you.”

His mouth swooped down, latching on to my clit, and I shouted at the unexpected pleasure. I fell back against his desk onto my elbows, my feet lifting to rest on the edge. Somewhere along the way I’d lost both my stiletto pumps.

My hips shimmied as he licked and sucked at my clit ruthlessly. This wasn’t foreplay. He devoured me as though he wanted to eat me alive. My orgasm rushed toward me as one long, callused finger drove inside my pussy. He added another, probing deeper. I felt his fingers hook inside me, pressing and seeking. Chris began to stroke that spot within me and I felt intense, almost uncomfortable pressure.

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