Authors: A C Warneke
“
It’s been nearly two and a half days since I’ve had you in my arms,” Duncan said softly, his eyes widening as if he was surprised by the words coming out of his mouth.
“
I was perfectly capable of walking, you know,” Lexi replied lightly, her voice rough with naked desire.
“
But where would the fun have been in that?” His liquid silver eyes and his raw velvet voice caressed her skin and she leaned closer, expecting his lips to brush over hers. But he pulled back, withdrawing back into himself and frowning. “Forgive me; I didn’t come in here to pick up where we left off….”
“
I wouldn’t mind,” she interrupted and watched with fascination as he seemed to lose his train of thought for a moment. But only a moment, unfortunately.
Clearing his throat, he continued speaking in a controlled voice as if he wasn’t sporting an impressive erection that was pressing against the front of his expensive slacks. “We need to establish rules, Miss Darling; boundaries. You are now my employee and a relationship between us is strictly prohibited.”
“
It could be our secret,” she persisted, her eyes moving over his face, absorbing the exquisite lines of his jaw, his lips. “We could be perfectly professional in the office and after hours….”
“
Lexi, I doubt I’d be able to act professionally around you once I’ve had you in my bed,” he admitted, laughing ruefully. Shaking his head, he held his hands out to his sides and huffed, “Look how I charged after you just now; I cannot risk more.”
“
It’d be worth it.” She wanted to touch him, run her hands over the hard planes of his chest, sink her fingers into the black silk of his hair.
“
I’m sure it would be but it cannot happen.”
Waving her arm through the air, she turned around to try to gather herself together. He was right, of course he was right. But that didn’t alter the fact that she wanted him beyond reason. Having him near made everything too tight, too binding; he made her burn. She walked over to her desk, needing to put some distance between them and clear her head. Her heart was pounding in her chest and she wondered if he could hear it. “Of course you’re right; still….”
“
Why do you wear these things?” he asked directly behind her, his fingers brushing the ends of her wig. She hadn’t even heard him move and was startled at his sudden close proximity. The heat from his body was warming her cool skin, melting her insides.
How could she be expected to work in the same building as him when all she wanted to do was rub her body all over his? Her hormones were seriously out of control and if he would just make one tiny little exception to his rule she could have sex with him and then get him out of her system and get on with her life without all of these unruly desires.
“
They go with the outfits,” she explained absently. Snippets of her sisters’ gossip over the years tried to make their way through her befuddled brain and she concentrated on remembering anything about Duncan Tremain. They had been impressed with his accomplishments, saying that he was one of the most powerful men under the age of thirty. But that was several years ago; he had to be in his late twenties, early thirties and he was so damn delicious she was having difficulty thinking straight. Agatha gushed that he didn’t take over businesses, he conquered them, that he was a ruthless warrior, surviving in the twenty-first century by decimating his opponents in the fields of business rather that battle.
The image of him in a loin cloth with a shield and a spear made her nearly faint and if he were to turn all of that masculine strength towards seduction…. The thought of him in action made the butterflies in her stomach leap for joy, wanting to be caught in his net. Dear lord that was cheesy. She glanced at him from beneath her lashes and had to bite back a groan; did he have to be so… magnetic?
He wouldn’t even have to try very hard to conquer her; it would be over in a heartbeat as she surrendered willingly. Squeezing her eyes shut, trying to rein her inner vixen in, all she could see was Duncan naked and strapped to a bed while she stood over him wearing nothing but heels and a smile. Maybe she’d be doing some conquering of her own, bring him to his knees, and all that. Her breasts swelled at the thought and she had to press her legs together to ease the ache of inappropriate lust.
Taking her by the shoulders, he turned her around and when she opened her eyes she was staring at his chest. Woodsy spice and masculine heat filled her nostrils; the scent of Duncan. Looking up at him, her heart lurched forward and slammed ruthlessly against her ribs, hungry for his embrace. He exuded masculinity, strength, power, ruthlessness, sexuality. And she wanted him like she had never wanted anyone or anything ever before. She should have been terrified.
She wasn’t.
She reached up and brushed her fingers over his lips, absorbing the feel of the tender flesh, remembering how expertly he had kissed her. She looked up and met the molten silver of his eyes and her knees disappeared. Falling against the desk, she swallowed at the desire blazing in the silver depths as he gazed at her. But he simply stood there, towering over her and filling the room with his presence as he looked down at her. He held his body stiffly, as if a breeze would shatter his resolve. What she wouldn’t give for a breeze at that moment. “Give in, Duncan.”
“
I’m not sleeping with you,” he rasped through dry lips. Her tongue flicked out to moisten her own lips and he sucked in a tortured, ragged breath.
“
You can’t deny the attraction,” she said, her voice velvety with desire, her eyes slowly moving over his handsome face: his chiseled jaw, his harsh cheek bones and straight nose, his beautifully sculpted lips. His raven black hair was still perfect, not a single strand out of place. Not a single strand of hair would dare defy him. And it still made her yearn so badly to mess it up, the urge almost overwhelming now that he stood so close, smelling so tantalizing and hot.
“
I can’t,” he admitted. He reached past her and pressed the palms of his hand to the desk behind her, trapping her between his arms. The solid wall of his chest was not quite touching her breasts and she never knew torment could be so pleasurable.
“
You want me,” she breathed, as he foolishly kept closing the distance between them. He was so close his breath fanned over her face and she could smell the woods at midnight; she could feel the latent strength of his body as it almost touched hers.
“
That was before you worked for me,” he whispered. Tentatively, he reached up with his hand, touching her cheek with the tips of his fingers. Her eyes started to roll back before she caught herself and forced her eyes to remain open. “But, Lexi, this can’t happen.”
“
It’s just sex,” she whispered bluntly. She knew she was going to burn because the fire was too pretty and she wanted to touch.
He laughed without humor, his fingers trailing to her jaw as he continued to caress her without seeming to realize he was touching her. “Somehow I doubt that it would be just sex between us and I cannot offer anything more.”
She swallowed as his fingers moved across her skin, her throat, threatening to dip into her shirt. His eyes focused on his hand as he came dangerously close to her cleavage where she wanted him to touch her, to make him burn like she burned. “If it can’t happen then why are you still here, torturing me with what I can’t have?”
“
Hmmm?” he murmured, lost in his own sensual haze. He lifted his gaze, “What?”
“
You keep telling me that we can’t but you are destroying me with your touch,” she said softly, looking up at him with wide eyes. “Couldn’t you break your rules for one afternoon, maybe lose yourself in my body for a few hours and then forget me?”
“
I can’t forget you,” he said, his hand moving over her skin to the side of her breast, his thumb separating from his fingers and brushing over her taut nipple. He looked down and she knew he would see that her nipples were hard, aroused. When he looked up again, he bent his head forward, his mouth so close to hers but not touching, not taking. And when he spoke, his air entered her, sliding in with effortless ease, “God knows I’ve tried but I can’t.”
“
Is there someone else? Maybe the red head?” she asked, feeling her breath mingling with his, mating. His pull was too strong and she wanted to experience this overwhelming lust until she bled
“
I told you I’m not seeing anyone.” He shook his head in denial, moving his head in imitation of kissing her, but not kissing her. He took the final step, closing the distance between their bodies, pressing his hard muscled body against hers until she could feel the thickness of his erection against her stomach. Pressing his arousal against her, he whispered, “But that doesn’t change anything; we cannot give in to this madness.”
“
Yes, we can but you’re being stubborn,” she whispered, her eyes dropping to his lips, wondering why they weren’t connected to hers. Her eyes closed as his breath heated her skin and she waited for him to finish, to begin. The scent of coffee washed over her skin, teasing her, tempting her. Making her want, making her yearn, for everything.
And then there was nothing. Slowly, she opened her eyes and saw him looking at her, a strained expression on his all-too-handsome face. His nostrils flared as he took deep breaths, a tic working in his jaw as he held himself apart from her. Tilting her head to the side, mystified, she asked, “What is it?”
His brows furrowed together as he swallowed, the movement of his throat emphasizing his golden skin. He shook his head as he dragged his fingers through his hair. His silver eyes were tortured as he looked at her with a hint of desperation, “I have to resist you, Lexi, otherwise I am no better than an animal, a wild beast.”
"What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked as he continued to look at her, anger and confusion and lust warring in his silver eyes. Her eyes narrowed as he straightened his tie, ignoring her question. “Do you think I am a wild animal?”
“
Of course not,” he said quickly, adamantly, turning his back towards her as he pressed his hand to the front of his pants, gasping in pain as he did so. The muscles of his back were taut as he admitted, “I usually have much better control and yet denying you is going to kill me.”
“
Then don’t deny me,” she asked, softly putting a hand on the middle of his back and feeling him stiffen at her touch. “It’s like I said, no one else need ever know.”
“
If I gave into you even once anyone with eyes would be able to take one look at me and know,” he vowed fervently. He turned around to face her so that her hand was over his heart and she felt it thumping rapidly beneath her palm. Putting his hand over hers, his voice was guttural as he pleaded, “Give me back my sanity, Lexi; release me from your spell.”
His words were a slap to her a face and an ocean of cold water to her libido and she stumbled backwards, her desire and fantasies crashing to the floor and shattering into a million pieces. Did she do this to him with her… Siren-ness? Did she turn a sane, rational man into a slavering beast, ready to give up all of his principles to satisfy her whims? Pressing her hand against the vomiting butterflies in her stomach, she turned her back to him and in a voice that lacked emotion, she whispered, “I think you should go.”
“
Lexi,” he asked, compassion making her heart crumble to dust. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“
Out,” she repeated with a little more volume, pointing her finger to the door, unable to face him knowing what she did to him, what she was doing to him.
He walked over to the door, pausing with his back towards her, “I didn’t expect to see you here and I let my… baser feelings control me. Forgive me, Lexi. Miss Darling.
With that he left, leaving Lexi swimming in doubts and fears that she truly was a Siren and her entire brief relationship with Duncan was false, based upon her own lust and desire. He didn’t really want her at all but he somehow couldn’t help himself. Thank God they hadn’t had sex because it would have been rape on her part; it couldn’t be considered consensual if he wasn’t in control of his actions. Leaning against the closed door, she slid to the floor, burying her head in her hands and laughing at the tragedy of being a Siren, of lusting after men and never knowing if they lust the offered in return was genuine or manufactured.
But she owed Duncan – Mr. Tremain – an apology; she was going to have to go to his office and offer one.
She was just going to take a few moments to compose herself. She’d ignore the Siren’s demand for sex with Duncan – Mr. Tremain – and respect his wishes. And then she’d learn how to suppress the Siren bitch so she'd never put another man into such a compromising situation again.
She groaned, feeling the pressure low in her belly demanding release. Knowing she had to apologize sooner rather than later and knowing that if she went up there while her body was so close to the edge she’d do something unforgiveable. She'd just take a few minutes to herself; the Siren wasn’t going to win.
Closing her eyes, she slid her finger beneath the elastic of her panties, touching her swollen flesh. She was wet, wetter than she knew possible, and her fingers slid over the folds of her sex. With thoughts of Duncan wreaking havoc on her body it didn't take much to get her off.
*****
Duncan stood in the middle of his personal bathroom, cleaning the sticky mess from his hand and glaring at the image reflected back at him. He was thirty-three years old, what the hell was he doing jerking off in the boys’ room like an adolescent getting his first glimpse of a skin magazine? What the hell had he been thinking, chasing Lexi down and cornering her in the office where there was no one around to stop him from making a fool of himself?