Out of Bounds (6 page)

“I just… shouldn’t have let you do that.”

He responded by thrusting two fingers into her pussy. It shouldn’t have felt so good, not after he’d just made her come. But she dug her fingernails into the armrests as her body arched to take him deeper.

“I’m going to watch you come this time.”

Damned arrogance. “You shouldn’t be so fucking sexy when you’re being an arrogant ass.” But there was part of her that twisted with anticipation once more. It overrode the impulse to argue with him or insist that her brain resume functioning. The first climax had only whet her appetite for a deeper one.

“And I should have been able to master the urge to drive over here after you told me to get lost in the garage.”

His dark eyes glittered with frustration. For a moment, he was the only soul in the world she believed understood how she felt.

“But I didn’t.” He pumped his fingers inside her, stroking the walls of her passage. It sent waves of delight through her. There was no ignoring it or resisting. “Because I can’t get you out of my head, Sabra.”

She opened her mouth to argue or maybe agree that they had an insane reaction to one another, but he settled a thumb over her clit and she fell back against the chair as the need to come intensified. The blood was roaring in her ears, and her joints ached because her body was so taut. Nothing mattered except pressing her hips up for the next thrust. The orgasm was centered deep inside her this time, every thrust of his fingers touching it until it burst.

She cried out this time, no soft exclamation of delight but a full shout borne of rapture. It was hard, jerking her entire body before dropping her back into reality. She was panting when her brain decided to work again. When she opened her eyes, she stared into Tarak’s. Satisfaction appeared in those midnight orbs before he stood up.

“I’m not going to fuck you.”

Her muscles were lax, making any sort of movement difficult. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and dried his fingers.

“I’m leaving now, because if I don’t, I will end up fucking you.”

He cupped her cheek and kissed her gently before straightening up and reaching for the doorknob.

“But… I don’t understand.”

He paused with the door open. The evening breeze blew against him, depressing the front of his trousers to show her the outline of his erection.

“I’m leaving to prove I do have integrity. When you let me between your thighs, you’re going to make the decision with your wits clear.”

She pushed her skirt down, her temper rising. “You mean you’re leaving because you’re afraid to let me see you lose control.”

His face tightened. “Maybe.” His knuckles turned white around the doorknob. “Good night, Sabra.”

He passed through the door and closed it firmly behind him.

Chicken…

The Aston Martin roared to life as she drew in a deep breath. She wanted to scream at him but refused to chase him.

Nope, she wasn’t going after him.

The sound of the car began to diminish into the distance.

Good.

But it wasn’t good. She shivered, feeling exposed and vulnerable. It was acute and her emotions suddenly became so tender, tears made her eyes glassy. She pulled her legs up and hugged them. The soft beach colors she’d used to decorate her entry room failed to soothe her. She’d never felt so abandoned, and it tore at the fabric of everything she believed. There was nothing about her dealings with Tarak that fit into her choices about the life she was going to have.

She responded to him without thought, and she didn’t even have the solace of knowing it was alcohol induced.

Sobering up wasn’t going to save her.

“Claudia is your secretary, along with three other Junior VPs.”

“Good morning, Ms. Donovan,” Claudia said with a sweet smile on her face. “Coffee?”

“When we’ve finished her introduction tour,” the head of security informed the secretary.

Claudia bobbed her head in response. Her desk was positioned between four identical glass doors.

Mr. Kim didn’t miss a step as he led Sabra through to her office. The guy moved with a fluid grace that spoke of just how much of a badass he likely was if you gave him a reason to show you. He had Asian features and black hair that was cut back to just a quarter inch.

No one would be using a handful of that against him in a fight.

“This will be your office.”

Her
office…

It was frickin’ unreal.

“For the moment your title is unclear,” Mr. Kim continued. “You are attached to the marketing department at the VP level. Mr. Nektosha will be meeting with the senior project managers to decide which projects your education and experience might fit.”

He extended an arm toward her desk. A neat stack of papers was laid out on the smooth, black, glass surface. “You’ll need to sign a new confidentiality agreement, which includes a declaration of allegiance to the country since you will have access to defense contract details. Your security code will be activated once you return those to me. And I’ll tell Claudia you prefer tea.”

“How did you know that?”

It really wasn’t the best question she could have asked. It lacked a lot—a whole frickin’ lot considering she was being shown her new office on the sixteenth floor. She should be more polished, more confident. Instead, she sounded like a teenager being confronted by her parents when she came in late after a date.

Mr. Kim didn’t even blink as he answered her.

“Security is always a prime concern here at Nektosha. No matter what floor. New employees are always observed and I read your file an hour ago.”

He disappeared behind the dark, frosted glass wall that separated her from Claudia.

Her
secretary.

She wanted to giggle like a little girl in her princess dress, but there was one thing more important. She sat down and began to read the contracts. Her fingers itched to just grab a pen and sign, but that was unprofessional. She would start her new job the way she intended to do it, by checking the details and making sure it was done right.

This was her chance and she wasn’t afraid of proving herself. She was eager to dive into the new position. True to his word, Glen enabled her employee identification number the moment he received her contracts. The computer on her desk became a portal to understanding Nektosha Industries.

The company was as amazing as its owner. They were more than just solvent; she checked the numbers twice because it didn’t seem possible for them to be doing so well in the current economic climate.

Her intercom buzzed. She looked up and pressed the key to allow Claudia to speak with her.

“Will there be anything else, Ms. Donovan?”

A quick glance at the time told her the day was gone.

“Um… no. Thanks.”

Sabra killed the intercom and realized her neck was stiff.

Her first day on the sixteenth floor, and she’d loved it so much, she hadn’t even looked at the clock.

She flexed her arms and stretched her back before pulling her purse out of the lower desk drawer. Her cell phone started chiming at exactly two minutes after five.

“Do I need an appointment to see you now?” her best friend Celeste purred on the other end of the line. Celeste had an unfair advantage against the rest of the female population. She was gorgeous, gorgeous, and utterly gorgeous.

“Agree to wear a chador and it’s a date.”

There was a husky laugh on the other end of the phone. “You’re going to swell my head, Sabra. You are not that hard on the eyes.”

“When I stand next to you, I look like a baby parrot, fresh from the egg.”

“That makes it vital that you meet me at Angelino’s. You need pasta to fill out your plumage.”

“Somehow, I don’t think that’s what will fill out,” Sabra remarked dryly. She was starving but had burned maybe a hundred calories at her desk all day.

Celeste laughed and cut the line. Sabra made sure her computer was off before heading toward the door. A prickle of sensation tingled down her nape as she neared it. She hadn’t really been hiding. Besides, Tarak wasn’t the type to be deterred by an office door.

Maybe he was serious about keeping their relationship out of the workplace.

Well, that might sound good if they were having anything that could be called a relationship.

Which they weren’t.

He’d wrung her like a wet dish towel and left her. It was undermining her confidence, because everything she’d decided she wanted didn’t seem to make much impact when she was near the man. Impulse ruled completely.

And he didn’t want to let her do the same to him.

That suited him completely. He had a lot in common with his ancestors. The Apache had held out longer than any other tribe. Tarak took what he wanted and guarded himself against what he didn’t care for.

For a moment, she was lost in a daydream of what she might be able to reduce him to—maybe it was because she wanted vengeance or maybe she wanted to soothe her pride by proving he had as many soft spots as she did.

So she hadn’t really tried to rock his world yet, but he’d maintained such tight control of her, she hadn’t had the chance. She knew without a doubt that it was by design. It was a facet of his character, the controlling urge that often came off as arrogant. It was sexy as hell, but frustrating too. The urge to try her hand at reducing him to the same state he’d left her in was growing stronger, the challenge of it addictive. Sex had never been a competitive sport for her before. She got the feeling Tarak preferred sex that way.

She shivered.

Before groaning.

It was definitely time for a girls’ night.

Claudia was gone and the outer hallway was empty. It was impossible to tell if there was anyone else still working, but she still glanced down to the end of the hallway, where Tarak’s office took up an entire side of the floor. His secretary normally sat at a desk outside, making it look even more formidable.

But there was no one there.

Which was best. After the launch was finished, he tended to disappear. It was the reason she’d not really known what he looked like. Tarak preferred the test and development track office up in Anchorage. Of course, he was a hands-on man, a recluse with a multibillion-dollar company. Finding a willing bed partner wouldn’t be hard. She’d had her chance.

It was stupid to feel disappointed, but she couldn’t dismiss the feeling as it swept through her.

Angelino’s was sounding better and better.

Traffic was a bitch, but it was the price one paid for living near the west shoreline. Cars passed her with girls in bikini tops on their way in from a day on the sand. Angelino’s overlooked the surf and had prices to reflect their high-class location.

It didn’t matter; she was celebrating.

She pulled up to the front and a valet opened her door. She pressed a five-dollar bill into his hand in the vain hope he would keep her car from getting scratched. If there was a bad parking place, she was likely to get it before the convertibles some of the clientele were arriving in.

Celebrating…

“So what’s the title?” Celeste had her long legs crossed as she waited on a leather sofa inside. She stood up, balancing perfectly on her spike heels.

“No title until they decide which project I’m getting.”

Celeste pushed her lips into a pout.

“But there is a secretary.”

Her friend bestowed a smile on her. The hostess guided them through the restaurant. Men looked up as Celeste passed, but she didn’t give them even a glance. She was grace in motion, her trim figure complemented by sweet features. Her blond hair was so light it was almost white, giving her a fae appearance.

The hostess stopped at a window seat. A waiter appeared to pull out a chair for Celeste. “Compliments of the manager, Ms. Connor.”

Celeste sat down and smiled at the hostess. But the moment she’d handed them their menus, Celeste was back on the hunt for more details.

“A private secretary?” She clicked her fingernails together delicately. “Very nice. I’m sure we need some wine to commemorate the moment.”

A waiter was hovering and produced a wine list. The man hovered over Celeste, grinning like a teenager on prom night when she smiled at him. But once their wine was corked and poured, her friend was focused on her again.

Sabra lifted her glass and watched the sunset turn the white wine scarlet. “It was quite a day. Thanks for inviting me out.”

“Yes, well, we have two things to celebrate,” Celeste declared softly. “Your promotion and the so very overdue kicking to the curb of one Kevin Guterman.”

Celeste winkled her perfect little nose as she mispronounced Kevin’s last name to make it sound like
gutter
.

Sabra pointed at her. “Don’t go starting that now. My taste in men isn’t any worse than yours.”

Celeste leaned to one side, exposing the slim column of her neck. Two men at the table beside them looked over at her like hungry hounds. Celeste smiled slowly before cutting them a quick glance that sent one of their forks clattering onto the dinnerware.

“You are such a bitch,” Sabra laughed.

“Then she’s in good company.”

Sabra jerked her head around to see Anastasia glaring at her. She blinked but only had a moment to confirm that it was in fact Tarak’s discarded pet standing over her. Anastasia struck fast and hard, taking a swing at Sabra. Pain exploded on the side of Sabra’s face before she managed to shove Anastasia away from her. The table wobbled and the wine went spilling onto the floor.

Anastasia squealed as Celeste very neatly pinned her arm behind her back. For all her innocent looks, Celeste was a talented martial artist. Anastasia thrashed like a freshly caught fish but was powerless to escape.

“Tarak Nektosha is mine—” Anastasia panted as two waiters began to haul her out of the restaurant. “Mine, you slut!”

“Ladies, I apologize for the disturbance.” The owner of the voice sent the staff scrambling to clean up the table. “I’m Nartan Lupan, the owner. Please allow me to reseat you.”

Sabra was mopping wine off her skirt and looked up. Nartan was exactly like his restaurant—posh and upscale. He had cobalt-blue eyes that looked as keen as a hawk’s.

He extended his arm toward a set of sliding doors. Beyond them was the private, members’ only section of Angelino’s, a place Sabra had never seen the inside of. Even if her pride wanted to balk, her curiosity wasn’t going to let her toss away the opportunity.

“Thank you.”

Sabra was already moving toward the doors when she realized Celeste was frozen. She was staring at Nartan, her perfect complexion darkening with a blush. She stiffened and hurried to catch Sabra. The staff slid the doors closed behind them, shutting out the noise from the dining room. Here there was the sound of the surf and soft music, and this side of the building was comprised of arched doorways, currently open to the summer night.

“My sincerest apologies, ladies. I hope you will enjoy your dinner,” Nartan continued. He reached into his jacket and withdrew a business card. “Please feel free to call me anytime you wish to dine at Angelino’s.”

He offered the card to Celeste. Sabra’s normally polished sidekick hesitated. It looked as if she had to force herself to take the card and she only held it by the corner.

“Thank you,” Sabra spoke up. Nartan flashed her a grin before striding off.

“Are you all right, Celeste?”

Her friend shivered but shook her head. “Of course I am.” She dropped the card onto the table, facedown. She took a deep breath before reaching for a wineglass some waiter had already filled. She took a sip before composing herself.

“Now tell me why Tarak Nektosha’s name is being linked with yours by that gold digger?”

Sabra reached for her own wineglass. “It’s all part of the tale of how I managed to make it to the sixteenth floor.”

Celeste watched her over the rim of her glass as she began the story.

***

“I will take care of Anastasia,” Tarak Nektosha informed his friend.

Nartan held his cell phone to his ear as he watched his private guests through a one-way mirror. “You sound ominous, my friend, a passion normally lacking in your liaisons.”

“Don’t pry, Nartan. Right now I’m ready to thank you for calling me up.”

“So don’t piss you off by noticing the tone of your voice?” Nartan observed smugly.

There was a pause on the other end of the phone. “Exactly.”

Nartan chuckled. “The little raven is quite fetching. She looks like she purrs—under the right touch of course.”

“She’s mine.”

Nartan aimed his gaze at Sabra, but her companion distracted him once again. “As much as I enjoy giving you competition that will make you sweat, in this case, I find her friend far more to my liking.”

“Glad to hear it,” Tarak spoke softly. “And send them a bottle of ice wine, with my compliments.”

Nartan put his phone back in his pocket and gestured his head waiter over.

“Ice wine for the ladies.”

The waiter went to see to it.

Everyone in the private section was linked to money somehow, even if it was as simple as whose bed they were warming. But there was something different about Sabra and her companion. Nartan watched as his waiter brought the bottle of ice wine over for their approval. Sabra Donovan turned red as she pushed her lips into a pout.

He chuckled and pulled his phone back out. Tarak picked up on the first ring.

“The look on her face says she isn’t yours, my friend.”

Tarak snarled something profane. “She will be.”

And the line went dead.

***

“Explain that look, Sabra Marie Donovan, and thank God it is not about to become Guterman,” Celeste demanded the moment the waiter left the table.