“I can make you forget about Wall Street,” he swore, the intensity of his words sending a shiver down her spine and melting her resolve.
Cole dropped his mouth to her collarbone, placing a tender kiss on her bare skin and she knew she was a goner. How could she resist him when his soft lips were pressed to the delicate flesh of her neck like that? His mouth lingered and she basked in the intimacy of the act and the unsought connection that seemed to have a will of its own, growing stronger each day. He brought his tongue up along the side of her neck, kissing, tasting, tempting, as he pressed his erection to her belly. Olivia wriggled against his hardness. She was burning up, heat coursing through her body as it begged for more.
Running his hands over her hips, he gripped her ass and pulled her closer. When his knee slipped between her thighs, she knew she should tell him to stop. She was with Alex tonight. Sure, they didn’t have a commitment of any kind, but that didn’t mean it was okay to make out with Cole in a closet.
Or did it? How could anything that felt so good be wrong? It couldn’t be. She was sure of it. Besides, the look in Cole’s eyes was bordering on orgasmic. He wanted her and he wanted her now. And you know what? Her vagina sort of wanted him too. Just one more time. What could it hurt?
She ground her hips against him, enjoying the friction of his thigh between her legs as he inched her dress up, revealing a red lace thong. He pulled back, pinning her to the rack of shelves as his eyes raked over her half-naked body. When they flitted from her bare legs to the pantry door, it was obvious what he was thinking: no lock.
With a growl, Cole pulled her into his arms and swept her deeper into the pantry.
“I’m not taking any chances,” he purred. “The way you look in that dress? I’m keeping you all to myself.”
Safely between the shelves and in the darkest corner of the room, he resumed his exploration of her body, which had abandoned all pretense of resistance. His hand skimmed across her abdomen, snaking down the front of her panties. When he ran his thumb over her wet heat, she forgot all about the stone wall jutting into her back. She forgot about the party, the caterers, and the fact they were getting it on in a glorified closet. Olivia moaned, arching her back as his thumb swept a wide, teasing circle between her legs. She cursed the scrap of damp satin keeping his fingers from her body.
If only it were laundry day.
Cole’s eyes bore into her as he pushed her panties aside. She held her breath, silently willing him to claim her. God, he was intense. In the office Olivia was always in control, but with him she felt reckless and wild. He owned her body and there was nothing she could do but relax and enjoy the ride.
Well, almost nothing.
The urge to feel Cole’s mouth on her struck, bringing with it a desperate need to join her body with his. Olivia leaned forward at the exact moment he slipped his fingers into her. She cried out, the sounds of her pleasure muffled by his lips moving hungrily over hers. Electricity exploded through Olivia’s body, her muscles tightening in anticipation as his fingers moved in and out of her. The pace was slow at first, quickly accelerating to a frenzy, his thumb circling the sensitive nerves that would push her to climax. She threw her head back and relaxed into him, letting him support her weight while her conscience chastised her for giving into her carnal urges.
Again.
What was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she tell this man no? Probably because he had the most amazing hands on the planet. Her body tensed up, preparing for the explosive finale that Cole’s touch promised to bring.
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” she panted. “Alex…”
“Fuck Wall Street.” Cole rolled his thumb over her clit and she saw stars. Her body shattered in orgasm, bucking against the warmth of his hand. “You belong with a real man, Olivia. You belong with me.”
“I can’t,” she whispered. “Sleeping with the boss in secret is one thing, but openly? No one would ever take me seriously again. I’ve worked too hard—”
“You’ve proven yourself a hundred times over at PBA!” he argued. “Anyone with half a brain can see that. Hell, Jonathan should have promoted you ages ago. You have to stop worrying so much about what other people think or you’ll make yourself crazy.”
Olivia sighed. “You don’t get it. It’s not just about what other people think. It’s about me earning my place—and my promotion—on my own merit.”
He growled, the sound deep and low, filled with frustration. He pulled away, giving her some much-needed but somehow unwanted space, and thrust his hands into his pockets.
“Fine. I know what I want. And what I want is to fuck you, whenever I want to, without giving a damn about what some fucking teenage assistant says about it.” He reached for the doorknob. “Let me know when you figure out whatever the hell it is you want.”
Chapter Sixteen