The Mammoth Book of Erotica Presents The Best of Saskia Walker (8 page)

Arrogant prick
. It was as if the intervening year hadn’t even happened. This was the way it had always been. He used to come to her place late at night. He’d just walk in after some function or other and assume he could have her. But she couldn’t resist when he rested his hands on her and walked her back against the wall. They’d be at it, right there in the hallway, before she even had a chance to tell him to leave. He overwhelmed her and made her need him badly, until one day she got fed up with being his convenient part-time lover and decided to put some serious distance between them.

She shook her head, warning him off. “Things have changed.”

He lifted his eyebrows, accusingly. “Nothing has changed, that is quite obvious.” He always did have the cheek of the devil. “I can see you still want me every bit as much as I want you.”

How dare he just throw that out there?
She sighed aloud, but her very centre was heavy and aching for him, her pussy fast growing damp. “We’re not in London now. You can’t just come here and expect everything to be the same between us.”

“Everything is the same, except for one thing.” He paused, and he did it deliberately, emphasizing every word. “I’ve come a whole lot further for you this time.”

Her breath caught in her throat.

It was true. He had come further. But that didn’t mean she was just going to fall on her back. Her body, however, seemed to be at odds with her brain on that particular point. His very proximity had unleashed her libido, as if he were a match to her fuse.

“Don’t make any assumptions,” she snapped.

There it was – that devilish smile, the dark twinkle in his eyes. He scanned her chosen outfit, shorts and a shirt with rolled-up sleeves, practical but close fitting. His inquisitive stare brought back too many memories, memories of how good it had been between them, and between the sheets. He had a thing about licking her breasts, the entirety of them, after they’d made love. Right now her breasts were aching at the very memory of it.

He walked up the wide wooden steps on to the veranda, closing the gap between them.

“Let’s just get this over with, shall we?” she said, her heart racing. “The owners of the plantation, Frank and Sherri, are waiting inside to hear what you’ve got to say about the harvest.”

He stepped nearer, until he was right up against her. “That’s not the only reason I came, and you know it.”

He ran the back of his hand down her neck, and the brush of his knuckles against her throat made her shiver. His touch was so startling that it set her adrift on a tide of emotions.

“I never stopped thinking about you, never stopped wanting you. You’re looking good, Leonie. Better than ever, in fact.”

Maybe I look good because I haven’t had to deal with you
. She managed to turn away, and led him inside the house. As she did, she once again vowed to remain professional throughout the encounter, although she was beginning to see that was going to be easier said than done, especially as he seemed determined to push it. Then there was the fact that his presence strolling behind her was totally magnetic.

It’s a year since you’ve had sex, that’s all it is, she told herself, annoyed beyond belief. But she wanted him, always had. And he was so bad for her. When she had failed to understand him – and he’d failed to help her do so – she’d walked away.
Far away
. Queensland, Australia. She had exchanged a desk job at a leading fair trade coffee importer in London for a hard, hands-on job helping to stabilize and expand a struggling plantation. Working with the owners, she put her years of theory and training into practice at grass roots level. And she’d worked Mike out of her system, or so she thought.

She strode down the hallway and into the family kitchen, measuring each breath to calm herself. Frank and his wife, Sherri, the plantation owners, were standing by expectantly. That made it easier. This was incredibly important to them, and Leonie swung into hostess mode, ushering Mike over to meet them. Once she’d made the introductions, she stepped away. They’d prepared for this moment for so long, and she had helped Frank to choose the finest beans they’d harvested, making sure the mix was perfect.

Mike met them warmly and within moments he made Sherri laugh at length with an amusing anecdote about his long journey. He had that kind of magnetic personality – he could win anyone over. Leonie noticed that the intervening time had added a few more laughter lines around his sardonic smile, and a more relaxed twinkle to those luscious dark-brown eyes of his. He looked so bloody attractive. Leonie couldn’t keep her eyes off him while he chatted. His broad chest made her fingers ache to touch him, to lock her hands over his shoulders while she pressed her whole body to his in a true physical reunion – the sort she’d only allowed in her dreams.

When she’d first met him, over three years earlier, he’d been the same way, charming people. Her gaze drifted over the body she knew so well. It made her long to gravitate to him, to touch him as a lover might, and she swayed. She was remembering. Remembering this one time when he’d walked into her office and closed the door behind him.

Her office door always stayed open. The very fact he closed it sent up a warning flare.

Then he folded his arms across his chest and nodded at her, his mouth lifting at one corner. Dressed in a fine suit he was a wolf in sheep’s clothing – polished but predatory. His expression was positively wicked, and he just stood there and looked at her, making sure she knew what he’d come for.

Unable to resist, she rose to her feet, her legs weak under her.

When she stepped out from behind her desk, he walked over and urged her behind the filing cabinet, where he hiked her skirt up around her waist and touched her through the flimsy barrier of her French lace panties.

“You can’t mean to—”

“Oh yes,” he interrupted, “I do mean to. I’ve been thinking about this all afternoon.” Inserting one finger under her panties, he drew them to one side. Then he reached inside with his free hand, and slid a finger into her slit, making her gasp aloud.

Lifting one foot then the other, she grabbed his shoulders and held on for dear life while he stroked her into a frenzy of arousal. She flashed her eyes at him, and he cinched her swollen clit between his knuckles, rocking his fingers gently until she climaxed. Lethal, he was thoroughly lethal. She was still clinging to him – her thighs taut and shuddering, her pussy slick with her juices – when he issued his next instruction.

“Turn around.” The look in his eyes spoke of pure mastery.

Following his command, she latched her fingers over the edge of the cabinet. He pulled her panties down her thighs, letting them trail around her ankles where they looked strangely obscene draped over her expensive designer heels. Slowly, lovingly, he’d stroked the outline of her bottom, as if savouring the shape of it, and then moved his hand lower. Even as his fingers opened her up, she grew damper, anticipating him.

A moment later came the merciful sound of his zipper, and his command. “Bend over.”

Bent at the waist, she clung to the cabinet as he probed inside her, his cock opening her up, stretching her and filling her to capacity. Leonie kept her eyes on the door, willing it not to open, her grateful pussy clutching his erection as she thought about the humiliation she would experience if someone walked in on them. The threat made her even hornier.

Mike knew that, because he loved pushing her, exploring her boundaries and then edging her over them. And he’d prepared her well. His cock slid easily against her slippery walls, over and over, until he had to put his hand over her mouth when she cried out at her peak, saving her honour amongst those who had offices along the corridor.

He threw her every time. She never knew where she stood.

One day, that was too much. It also wasn’t enough.

I wanted more than he could give me, she reflected, staring across Frank and Sherri’s kitchen at her ex-lover with a rueful sense of acceptance. She was fated to love a man who couldn’t settle.

It was then that she noticed he had his hand latched over his belt. With a sharp intake of breath, she realized it was the same belt she had given him as a gift, two years earlier. And he’d used it for more than holding his jeans up. He’d used it to stop her struggling against him during sex, which had made her struggle all the more.

Leonie shivered at the memory.

Mike stopped speaking.

Her gaze shot up to meet his.

He was smiling at her accusingly. He knew she’d been looking. He must have been keeping a subtle watch on her. She glanced away from his knowing stare, but images of what he used to do with that belt still flashed through her mind. He’d worn it on purpose today, she was sure of it. He’d worn it to remind her of what they used to be like together.

Sherri was pouring him a cup of fresh brew. The aroma reached Leonie, rich and intoxicating. Pride blossomed in her chest, levelling her head somewhat.

Mike took the cup, breathed the scent in, and then drank heavily. He had a way of holding his cup, ring finger through the handle, cup cradled in his palm. He nodded as he put the cup down. “The sample you sent tasted superb, undoubtedly one of the finest harvests of the year, but there’s something really special about tasting it where it’s grown, with the people who made it this way.”

He put his hand out to shake Frank’s all over again.

Sherri was beaming. “Dinner will be ready in about an hour. If you’d like to freshen up after your journey, I’ll show you to the guest lodge.”

Mike nodded, but turned to Leonie. “Leonie could show me.” His gaze raked over her. “I need to go over some facts and figures with her anyway.”

Bastard
.

“Of course,” Sherri replied, and winked over at Leonie.

Had she sensed there was something between them? She looked from Sherri’s smiling face to Frank’s startled one. The atmosphere had shifted, yes, and their attention was fully on her. They must have guessed.

“This way.” She led him out of the back door, down the steps and along the path to the annexed lodge. It was a prefab building with a dozen rooms used for guests, and for the workers in the busy harvesting season. It was here in this simple place that she’d made her home for the past year, and here where Sherri had made Mike a room up, right next to hers.

“They seem to be good people,” he commented, as their footsteps crunched on the gravel path.

“They are, and they worked hard for this. I think they’ll be fine when I leave.”

“It was an ambitious project, but you’ve helped them on their way. You put your stamp on the franchise. That was obvious from England.”

He must have been watching her reports, and he wasn’t even on the overseeing panel. His job was in marketing, unless that had changed and Tansy hadn’t told her.

“Overseeing the plantation has been good for me. I needed to strike out on my own, prove I could do what I was preaching to others about.”

She put her hand on the screen door of the lodge, pausing, and met his gaze. “The board seemed pleased with my work.” Two weeks before, she’d indicated that she was ready to move on. “Do they want me back in London, or elsewhere?”

He didn’t answer her question. He merely smiled.

She opened the door and went inside, her back to him as she paused and waited for him to follow.

The narrow corridor had twelve doors off it, and a storage cupboard at the far end. Plain and utility, the building smelled of citronella. Leonie had long since learned that the underlying citrus insect repellent was barely combated by her most expensive perfume. Once the screen door shut behind him, she heard his bag drop to the floor and felt his breath on her neck. Then she couldn’t smell the citronella any more, because he was so close to her that she could smell him, his cologne, the same one he always wore, and, beneath it, his scent. Her eyes closed, savouring it.

He stroked her hair. “Be honest,” he whispered against her ear, “you missed me.”

She couldn’t deny it, so she said nothing.

His hands closed over her shoulders and he turned her around, forcing her to look at him. “Tansy told me you always ask about me when you email her.”

Tansy had a lot to answer for.

“Idle curiosity.” His proximity overwhelmed her body with need, but her will defied it. She backed away and out of his grasp.

He closed again, reached out and touched one finger against her neck.

A stifled whimper escaped her lips. She tried to shift, but found herself backed against the wall.

“Idle curiosity? Is that all it was?” He rested the palm of his hand at her collarbone, capturing her, holding her still with his fingers on her collarbone.

She tried to quell her erratic breathing, aware that he could see and feel her reactions. He always had this effect on her. A master of seduction, he could push her buttons so easily. Nothing had changed. The only way to deal with it was to ignore him and not rise to his leading comments.

He lifted a strand of hair from her neck and looped it where the rest was clipped on top of her head. The intimate act threw her, fuelling her desires for him and him alone.