She didn’t say it but he could hear “except”…
“Everything but…what?” he asked.
She looked at him in surprise. “Everything but what I really want.” She bent her head, peered down at her wine and swallowed hard. “He gave us generous allowances, cars when we were sixteen, he sent us to college. We had a beautiful home, all the clothes and shoes we could want, trips to wherever we wanted to go and Nina was there to look after everything.”
“But…”
She looked up at him. “You know what I want.”
He nodded. He knew what she thought she wanted. “You want to run the company.”
She nodded, nibbling a cracker. “He has very old-fashioned attitudes about things.”
“Oh yeah.”
Her eyebrows slid nearly up into her hairline.
“I’m not gonna argue with you on that one,” he said. “Being a woman has nothing do to with ability to run a business. And I don’t believe a woman should be at home barefoot, pregnant and in the kitchen. Unless she wants to be.”
She stared at him, the cracker suspended halfway to her lips. “Really?”
“Why are you surprised by that?
She shook her head. “I just…I don’t know. Because you too seem to think I can’t run the business.”
“I don’t think that at all.”
Her head tilted and she regarded him open-mouthed.
“I think you’re strong, intelligent and knowledgeable. You also have great vision and passion.”
She blinked at him, the hand holding the cracker lowering. “Really?”
Had no one ever complimented her? His chest tightened. Christ.
“Really.” He took a bite of cheese, chewed and swallowed. “You miss your parents a lot, don’t you?”
“Well. You know.” Her eyes lowered. “Not every day. It’s been a long time. But since I became involved with the business, I think a lot about my dad, about what he would have thought of what I was doing, what he would have done. Sometimes I still have dreams about both of them, like they’re still here,” she confessed and met his eyes with a hint of embarrassment.
He was so damn lucky to have the family he did. They’d supported him through all his shit and they always would, no matter what. He hated that Tara hurt and he had to admit it kinda bugged him that Tyrone didn’t think she was good enough to run the company.
“I think your dad would be very proud of you, proud of what you’ve done.”
She nodded again, her bottom lip quivering, and tough-as-nails, bossy, controlling Tara looking so soft and vulnerable damn near ripped a hole in his gut. He stroked a hand down her bare arm. She thought what she wanted was to run the business. And yeah, she did want that. But he knew what else she wanted.
He set the empty dishes aside, took her wineglass from her and set it on the bedside table and pulled her into his arms. She tipped her head back and gazed at him, her hands on his chest, her eyes soft and yielding.
Need slammed into his balls, and the urge to throw her down and fuck her crazy rose up inside him. He had to fight for every bit of control to take it slow, take it gentle. Trust. He was building trust. ‘Cause he was gonna need it.
He lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her, long, clinging, warm kisses, their mouths tasting each other, tongues nudging, mouths lifting, shifting, clinging again. She softened in his arms and heat spiraled through him. He pulled her onto his lap, fighting with the bed covers to free her, kissing her again and again. Sweet. Hot. Consuming.
He nipped at her bottom lip, sucked on her tongue and she moaned. Her hands roamed over his shoulders and chest and rubbed his nipples, sending a barrage of sparks through him. God, that was good.
“I don’t have another condom,” he said, their foreheads resting together as they panted.
She made a small noise.
He slid a hand between them to her pussy and found her drenched and slick and swollen. “Ah, sweetheart.” His fingers played there. “I’ll make you come.”
“What about you?”
“Don’t worry about me.”
“I can…”
She’d already given him one blowjob. Jesus.
“Make yourself come then,” he said. “I’ll watch. And then you can watch me.”
He laid her down on the bed and parted her legs, then waited for her to touch herself. She stared back at him, eyes big and glossy, lips pouty from his kisses.
With a small groan, teeth sinking into her bottom lip, she moved her hand between her legs.
“Oh yeah.” He sat back and watched with avid eyes. Her slender fingers stroked through her pretty pink folds, dipped deeper, slicked moisture up over the straining bud of her clit. She rubbed in small tight circles, eyes closed.
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” she moaned.
“That is so fucking hot, Tara.” He stroked his cock, thick and hard. Easy. He wanted her to watch him too. Pleasure poured over his body, a buzzing, a growing pressure at the base of his spine.
“This is awful,” she whispered without opening her eyes.
“Why, sweetheart? Doesn’t it feel good?”
“It feels…wicked.” She licked her lips and her fingers continued their rhythm. “I’ve never…done this…in front of someone.”
He smiled with satisfaction. There were many things he would make her do that she’d never done in front of someone.
He wished for some toys—something to insert inside her to make her orgasm more intense. His fingers would have to do. So he let go of his cock and probed her entrance. She started, blinked, then her eyes drifted closed again as he pushed inside, one finger, then two. Her hips lifted at his touch, and her breasts swelled and flushed. She gave a soft cry and her body tightened and clamped around his fingers. When she came, he felt the pulses, the ripple of her pussy around him over and over. She cried out again and he leaned up and kissed her mouth.
“Wow,” he said against her lips. “Hot.”
“Mmm.”
She’d need a few minutes. But he needed to come. Right. Fucking. Now. He lay down beside her and fisted his cock again, dragging it up and down in slow strokes, twisting over the head just how he liked, waiting.
She shifted, rolled to her side and met his eyes. He held her gaze and deepened his stroke, the combination of her eyes focused on him and the touch of his hand intensely intimate and erotic and lethal to his control. Her gaze went to his cock. Her eyes widened, her lips parted and she sat up. The fascination in her expression almost undid him as his hand moved up and down, around the head, faster and harder. Leaking pre-cum slicked his hand. He rubbed his other hand over his chest, then cupped his balls. God, he’d love her to touch him right now, play with his ass, but that…might be…Christ! Just the thought of that sent him over.
“Ah fuck!” He came in hot spurts, semen on his belly, sliding over his fingers. Tara stared, absorbed in the sight, and he gasped for breath, his heart pounding, chest heaving as he finished himself off.
Jesus, that was the hottest masturbation he’d ever experienced.
Without a word, she reached over for some tissues from the nightstand and, to his surprise, wiped him clean, gently, attentively.
They curled up together, her body touchingly small and dainty in his arms, and when she fell asleep, harsh reality intruded into his brain.
He’d fucked his boss’s granddaughter and potentially jeopardized the only job he’d been able to land after months of looking. And the only reason he had this one was because his grandmother, bless her heart, had used her influence with an old friend. He needed this job, needed to prove to the world he wasn’t scum; in fact, he needed to prove it to himself. He almost groaned aloud at the complicated mess.