Executive Perks (18 page)

“It’s obvious. Boy, is sex all you think about?”

“Honey, sex is probably all any healthy straight guy thinks about when you’re around. And I bet you give a few of the gay ones pause too.”

She laughed. “You’re disgusting!”

“Hey, it was a compliment! No really, how’d you get to be so beautiful and be such a good businesswoman too?”

“I’m going to ignore the sexism implicit in that. Another time. But I will note that now you’re just trying to distract me with flattery.”

“Distract you or seduce you. I’m good with either one.”

“Well, I appreciate the effort.”

“Man, I haven’t even gotten started.”

“Yeah, I remember. No thanks.”

“So I keep hearing from you. But since we’re having this heart to heart, how about you tell me really why? I know you’re attracted to me. We’ve proven that. You even admitted it at our last fiasco of a make-out session. Do you really not trust me enough—or yourself, I guess—to give into it and not worry how it’ll affect our business dealings?”

“I don’t act on every attraction, Aaron.”

“Or any attraction, I bet.”

“Meaning?”

“There are those who act on attractions, satisfy their desires, and those who don’t. I guess we know which one you are.”

“And you.”

“Guilty.” They smiled at each other and suddenly the air was fraught with tension, and not the kind related to funeral homes and dead bodies. “I can help you with that if you like. Help you act on your attraction.” He was still smiling, but he sure wasn’t kidding.

Apparently, he just couldn’t manage to give up as far as she was concerned.

Suddenly, he was a scant inch from her on the sheet-covered sofa. She felt his breath on her face and realized she wanted him to touch her. She wanted to touch him. She leaned up and ground her open mouth into his, taking him completely by surprise and for a moment he didn’t react. She thrust her fingers in the silky black hair at the nape of his neck and pulled him down harder into the kiss, desire for him coursing wildly in her veins, blocking out her panic at where she found herself. When she thrust her tongue in his mouth, he seemed to finally come to his senses and cupped her head with one hand, turning her frantic kiss into a deep sexual exploration, his tongue filling her mouth. His other hand traveled down, rubbing her back on its way, pulling her against him, against the now-growing evidence of his desire for her, then caressing her bottom through her skirt as she pressed herself desperately into him, practically climbing onto his lap.

She was moaning, frantic with her pent-up need for him. She couldn’t think straight. She felt as if she would explode. She didn’t care whether he laughed at her or used her. Right now, she wanted to use him, to forget that she was reliving her childhood nightmare of being locked in a funeral home. Because this time, she was all grown up and a sexy, hunky guy she’d been lusting after was locked up with her. Right now, she’d almost be willing to make it on the embalming table if Winston wanted to.

“Please,” she whispered against his lips and pulled one of his hands to her breast. He groaned, fingering the taut nipple through the silk of her shirt beneath her suit jacket.

What the hell was she doing? Aaron thought, painfully aware of how far over the edge this completely unexpected, hot response from Virginia was pushing him. She was kissing him back wildly, pressing herself wantonly and purposefully into him, cupping his hand to her delicious, full breast and evidently begging him to fuck her. Jesus, was she trying to drive him insane with this crazy pull-and-push act? Not to mention, they were in a goddamn funeral home, for God’s sake.

But his ability to reason logically was rapidly dwindling in the face of her continued, apparently heedless, campaign to give in to him.

And to give in to him right here. Right now.

Of course he lost his reason when she was denying him too. So what did it really matter?

She abruptly yanked him back with her on the sofa, opening her long legs wide as he fell on top of her, wrapping them around his waist, her skirt now bunched up around her hips, still kissing him with such abandon. Lust roared through him as she arched, up against him. He was completely mindless now of all the times she had teased him in the past and then pulled back. He was certain of what she was offering him. And so was she as she writhed beneath him. The only difference was that astonishingly enough, he still remembered where they were.

He tore himself away from her kiss and heard with deep satisfaction her immediate cry of, “Don’t stop.”

He hushed her, his hands still caressing those tempting tits he never really had gotten a proper taste of, feeling as if he at least had to point out the obvious.

“You do realize you’re probably doing this as a reaction to being afraid?’

“If you turn me down for that, you condescending jerk, I promise you, you’ll never get another chance.” She pulled his head back down to her and he laughed.

“Promises, promises,” he murmured against her lips. “How would you feel if I was the one who stopped and left you hanging now?” He didn’t mean it and since they both knew it, she wasted no time on a retort.

“Shut up and just do me.”

He glanced around, scoping out the room. It afforded them absolutely no privacy, an open entrance way leading right into the hall. But what the hell? It wasn’t as if there was anybody around. He could hear her light rapid breathing, see in the dim light that her eyes were still closed, waiting for him to move.

Sex in a funeral home was not exactly what he would have chosen for their first time together. In retrospect, a limousine wouldn’t have been half bad. But he was not about to complain now. He caressed her long, supple legs in their stockings, looking down at her, breathless at the sight of her in a garter belt and panties, her skirt wrenched up around her waist. He lifted her up and she began kissing his neck as he positioned her, yanking off her suit jacket, his hands now unbuttoning her shirt hastily, pulling her bra down to leave her breasts naked to him. Then he bent his head greedily to one nipple, tasting the taut peak finally, and she arched her back and cried out, incoherent, but loud now.

“Shh, I’m going to take care of you, baby,” he whispered against her burning skin, frantic to get inside her. He’d had enough foreplay with this woman to last a lifetime. He wanted nothing more than to feel the silken walls of her pussy with his cock, not his fingers, not his mouth. His cock.

He moved up to kiss her mouth, thrusting his tongue back as far as it would go, fondling her full luscious breasts. When he led her hand to his jutting cock, intending for her to unzip his pants, she ran her fingers down the length of him and he could not wait, unfastening himself quickly and pressing urgently against her thigh, breaking the kiss to slide her panties, white cotton again, down and off her outstretched legs. He pushed her legs wider and moved between them.

For the first time in his adult life, it dawned on him that he’d almost forgotten the goddamn condom. The head of his cock was honing in on paradise without a thought to one before his brain kicked in in what had always been second nature to him, ever since his heedless teen years anyway.

“Fuck,” he muttered.

“Yes,” she cried, almost comically, and if his brain had any blood left in it he would have laughed.

As it was, he fumbled in his back pocket for his wallet, letting go of her reluctantly to rip off one of the pack he had in there. “No, I mean, I almost forgot to put a condom on.”

She started to sit up. “Let me,” she offered, but he batted her hands away.

He was so turned on and frustrated, he couldn’t afford to take the time. He had the foil packet opened and the fucking condom on his aching cock almost before she could finish her offer.

Not needed, then, her soft hands wandered down to his bare ass, underneath his pants, which he still had on, having just done the minimum by freeing his cock. The feel of them on his skin made him surge forward with the pleasure of it and he thrust into her, harder than he had meant to, but he wasn’t exactly in control about now. He groaned at the tight feel of her extremely wet pussy around him and froze. Jesus, if he came right now after waiting for her so long he would fucking kill himself. He took a deep breath to slow himself down.

“Oh my God,” she whispered. “Oh my God, you feel so good.”

She started to move and he clamped his hands down on her hips to still her. He could hear her breathing in his ear and he leaned down to kiss her, tracing her lips with his tongue and dipping inside, slowly and thoroughly, still not moving his cock.

Her hands moved up his back, his shoulders, tangled in his hair and the sheer animalistic pleasure of her touch finally shattered his self-control. He thrust once, hard, and she groaned, moving as well, as he let the familiar primitive rhythm of fucking grip him as it always did. And yet it felt different. She felt different.

Uncomfortable with the thought, he paused, but her hands came down to his ass and she pulled him toward her again.

He chuckled. “What a greedy little thing you are, Virginia.” He thrust his cock once, hard up her, feeling her pussy walls grip him, and she moaned in reward. Jesus, it felt so good.

Her head was arched back, her eyes tightly closed.

“You like this?” he prompted, fucking her steadily now.

“That’s a stupid question,” she muttered, opening her eyes to stare up at him. He felt as if he could lose himself in that blue-gray expanse.

He paused again, not because he was in control, but because he wasn’t. He didn’t want to shoot his load too fast. He wanted to bring Virginia Beckett to orgasm more than once before he finally, finally got off inside her.

“Answer it,” he said softly, bending his head to lick one rigid nipple. When she didn’t speak, he nipped her lightly and then sucked. She bucked underneath him as his fingers found her clit and began a relentless massage.

The first time she came, for him, around him, squeezing his cock with her inner muscles, she almost damn near took him with her, wrapping her long legs around his waist, the heels of her feet digging into his still-trouser-clad butt. But at the last minute, he kept his control, letting her go over without him, kissing her to take the pleasure of her climax into his mouth as she shuddered.

While she was still panting, coming down, he pulled his cock a little of the way out, feeling the exquisite friction, and then slid slowly back in.

She moaned.

“Do you like it?”

“God, yes.” Her hands tugged the boxers and trousers all the way down his ass and clenched as she gripped his cheeks, pulling him even more strongly into her. The resulting thrust was as deep as he could make it.

She came again, crying out and this time he went with her, pouring into her as she clung to him.

He collapsed on top of her, panting, the sweat of their endeavors practically gluing them together, and laughed. “See, that wasn’t so bad, Virginia, was it? Why did you keep resisting it?”

Her breathing was coming a little slower now, and she slapped his shoulder weakly. “You know why, you jerk.”

“Oh, so now I’m a jerk? What happened to ‘you feel so good’?” He brushed the hair away from her forehead gently, registering how soft the skin of her temples felt against his fingertips. He pulled out of her and took off the condom. But incredibly enough, even after the orgasm he’d just had, he was immediately hardening again. He put on another condom and slid back in as she closed her eyes and moved her hips in some subtle way that roared through him. He groaned and closed his eyes himself, relishing the feel of being on top of her, in her.

“Oh yeah. You feel good too, honey.” He thrust hard and she arched up into it while he began a rhythm. “But we’re going to take it slow this time.”

“Slow is good too,” she whispered.

Jesus, he hoped he had enough condoms to last them.

* * * * *

Virginia opened her eyes. It was starting to get dark out. The faint light that had seeped in from the day outside, despite the boarded-up windows, was fading. If someone had told her she would be contentedly lying on a couch in a funeral home as night fell, she would have said that must mean she was dead.

But she wasn’t dead. She was just basking in the wake of about a dozen little deaths, as the French called it. Okay, maybe not a dozen, but she’d lost count.

She might not have much experience when it came to rolling around in the sack, but she could tell a virtuoso when she, er, had him. And Winston was world class. She should have had her head examined for pushing him away for so long.

Of course there was still that pesky thing about the stock. And the fact that someone had locked them up together in a funeral home. Then there was that fire…

But details, details… She’d think about all that tomorrow.

Winston was dozing beside her. She could hear his even breathing. She turned to look at him and sure enough his eyes were closed, one lock of silky black hair falling over them. She reached a finger up to sweep it back and, eyes still closed, he caught it and pressed a light kiss into her palm.

“Haven’t you had enough, you insatiable woman?” he teased, opening his eyes.

“You have only yourself to blame, Mr. Winston. You’re awfully good at this.”

“I’ve had a lot of practice.”

“I can tell.”

He came up on his side and deftly rolled her to her stomach. Long strokes of his hand down the length of her spine for a few minutes soothed her and almost lulled her back to sleep until he glided over the sensitized curve of her bottom and found his way back down between her thighs.