A thrill shot up his spine, pleasure exploding in his stomach at the obvious appreciation in her eyes. No woman had ever looked at him this way, as if he were a new toy she couldn’t wait to play with. But there was apprehension there too. A flash of vulnerability.
There was no skill in the way she touched him. Her delicate hands stroked his chest, her caresses both careful and curious. Indecision moved across her face, her breasts heaving from each ragged breath, and when her hand, somewhat awkwardly, came down to circle his cock, he suspected this was new territory for her. His ridiculous fumbling stemmed from the fact that this was his best friend standing naked in front him; hers clearly showed how green she was when it came to sex. Yet her inexperience only sent another jolt of arousal through him.
The thought of helping her explore her sexuality, showing her what he liked, discovering what she liked…it was so damn hot he almost exploded right then.
He sucked in a calming breath and quickly willed away the rising climax. How was this happening? He was consumed by lust, mindless with need. He had to…had to taste her, damn it!
He stilled her hand and removed it from his aching erection. She gave a surprised squeak as he cupped her ass and practically flung her up on the desk. Sinking to his knees, he peeled her panties down her legs, tossed them away and pressed his mouth to her core, his tongue seeking her clit.
He groaned against her mound when he realized it was completely bare. No hair, just smooth, moist flesh and honey pooling in her opening. He lapped it up, drowning in the taste of her, the sweet tangy scent.
He could have stayed down there for hours, but suddenly her fingers were in his hair, pulling, yanking. He lifted his head and saw the unadulterated heat in her eyes. “Get in me,” she said fiercely. “Now, damn it!”
He shot to his feet like gunpowder from a cannon, grabbing his jeans on the way up. As his pulse drummed in his ears, he groped in his pocket for his wallet. He found a condom, sheathed himself in three seconds flat, and positioned himself between her sexy thighs.
And then he froze.
“Owen?”
He registered the sound of her sweet, tentative voice, but was too focused on her face to reply. Her cheeks were pink, that same flush rising on her breasts as evidence of her desire. Her eyes were beautiful, surrounded by thick lashes, and her expression reflected anticipation and lust and…trust. It was that last one that did him in.
With a strangled noise, he moved back, retreating farther and farther until his ass slammed against the file cabinet. What the fuck was he doing? This was Maddie. He couldn’t just screw her on the desk she’d sat behind for the last three years! He couldn’t screw her, period.
Self-recrimination pummeled into his gut as he realized how close he’d come to ruining everything.
Maddie was the only woman he’d ever allowed himself to get close to, and the only one he hadn’t lost as a result of that closeness. With everyone else, he got bored. Got close and got bored, quickly ending the affair before the woman in his bed got hurt. Not surprising, seeing as he was the son of a carousing womanizer. Henry Bishop had been notorious for cheating on his wife, moving from woman to woman and breaking hearts wherever he went. And yeah, Owen might not be a cheater like his dad was, but he’d inherited that same restlessness, the inability to be satisfied with just one person. He’d first noticed it back in the tenth grade, when he’d pursued Rebecca Hollyfield for months, only to dump her two days after she finally gave in. Two days was all it had taken to get bored with Rebecca and lust over Susie Denton. And when he’d won over Susan, he’d dumped her too, for Connie Beals.
Rebecca, Susie, Connie—they’d all been nice girls. Good girls who hadn’t deserved the way he’d treated them. Even now, the memory of how much he’d hurt them sliced into him like a dull blade.
Well, he refused to hurt another female again. His restlessness had followed him into adulthood, but nowadays he was better at making sure the women he dated knew it would only be a temporary thing.
Maddie Wilson was not temporary. She was his assistant, his best friend. More than that, she wasn’t the kind of woman you had a fling with. Her clumsy kisses and careful caresses proved that, and instead of respecting her the way she ought to be respected, he’d been prepared to screw her on a desk when she deserved to be made love to on a damn bed of roses.
“Owen.” Her voice was louder this time. “Why did you stop?”
He found the courage to meet her gaze, and nearly lost his load in the condom covering his dick. She was still sitting on the desk, her bra tangled around her waist, nipples harder than icicles, legs spread open to reveal the damp pink flesh of her pussy. He’d never seen a sexier sight.
“We can’t do this,” he muttered, dropping his gaze to the floor.
“Are you kidding?” He could hear the astonishment in her tone.