Crazy, Stupid Sex Page 6

  “Sorry. The lines are blurring since we’ve already discussed the merits of animated penis licking.”

  Evie arched a brow and bit her lip, trying to keep from giggling like an adolescent. “That’s business.”

  “I never planned on keeping things strictly business with you. Remember? I’m utterly without shame. My sole purpose of coming here was to try and lure you back into my bed. That, in a sense, is my business.”

  The statement, like so many that Caleb made, should have pissed her off, and yet it just made her feel warm. And languorous. Like melted honey was spreading from her stomach out to all of her limbs.

  “Yes, well, you should have consulted me on your plans.”

  “The thing is, Evie, my plans sort of went ahead without even consulting me.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I want you,” he said, so simple, like it was obvious. Easy to admit.

  She swallowed hard. “So you said. But I don’t get…”

  “I’m not the kind of guy who thinks about a woman after we have sex. I don’t really mean it that way, I do think about women after. I have nice memories of hot times. But I don’t…ache for them. I don’t feel like I need them again. And you…I couldn’t sleep Saturday night. I kept thinking about how you felt. About how good it was. I burned for you and that…doesn’t happen. And so I figured I would put myself in your path again and you would say yes because…because…”

  “Women say yes to you.”

  “Yeah,” he said, his lip curling up slightly. “I am a bag of dicks.”

  “I don’t know if I’d go that far. You’re…entitled. But that, I guess, is what comes from having an easy life.”

  He laughed, and there was something bitter in it. Something not entirely authentic. “Yeah. That’s my problem. Life’s been too easy.”

  “Back to the issue of my sex graphics.”

  “Yes, let us not forget your sex graphics.”

  “Typography?”

  “What?”

  “Maybe it’s just about playing with the typography for these particular sections. Maybe I was going too elaborate. Or rather, too literal.”

  “Though, nothing says you can’t go a little naughty,” he said. “People like that.”

  “Okay, sure. So what if there’s a naughty and nice version? Oh! And then like…the kinkier stuff can be in the naughty part. And you can pick if you’re feeling nice or naughty and then…well, in the naughty version you can watch girls suck popsicles and read about getting bent over your desk and taking it from behind while your coworkers are only a thin, shoddily built wall away.”

  Caleb froze and dropped the phone on the desk. “I see. And…which section would you pick? I’m asking for beta-testing reasons.”

  She could see, from every taut line in his body, that this was not a hypothetical question. And she knew that the way she answered it would have a lot to do with what happened next.

  Her breathing quickened, her heart pounding hard. The thing was, she wanted Caleb. Of course she did. She’d practically been aerial silk dancing in her sheets every night trying to get to sleep. And mainly she’d ended up sweaty, and horny and dragging out her vibrator.

  And it had not been Benedict Cumberbatch on her mind during those late night sessions. Which made her feel a little guilty for cheating on her fantasy boyfriend—since he’d basically been the man assigned to said device back when she bought it—with fantasies of a man she’d actually slept with. And that was stupid.

  But that was the state of things. Caleb was all she could think about. Caleb was all her body wanted. And why shouldn’t she have him again?

  He wanted her. Hell, he’d stormed into her building to…take her. Like a marauding pirate, which…no guy had ever done for her.

  Jason was more the reluctant wench who would lie there and think of merry old England while he consented to her advances. Which did not do a hell of a lot for her ego.

  What was holding her back, anyway?

  Probably the fact that she’d decided it would only happen once. And that Caleb was around looking to make it more than one night was…not something she’d bargained for.

  And, probably, because she was a little afraid that he’d somehow tricked himself into thinking she’d been awesome in bed, and a repeat performance, in the cold light of day and sober, would prove she was more what Jason thought, than what Caleb seemed to think.

  That any illusion she had of being some sort of sexual tigress would be put to rest when she and Caleb touched again—it would be like trying to start a fire in a pile of damp driftwood.

  And her moment of empowerment, her sexual triumph, would be destroyed.

  So that was bullshit, because who cared? This had nothing to do with Caleb and what he thought of her. He wasn’t her boyfriend. And what did some mythical triumph have to do with anything? It was only triumph if she was happy.

  That was her whole problem. It was why she’d stayed with Jason. She got married to ideas, and she put them above her actual wants.

  Her actual needs.

  And here she was, bent on making her experience with Caleb a magic one-night deal, when she wanted more magic. When she wanted…and just wanted, because she was afraid of making a fool of herself. Afraid of wanting too much.

  Well, no more.

  She had nothing to lose here. She didn’t love this guy. She could demand whatever she wanted, and if he didn’t want to give it, he could march back to his cubicle and play “Unicorn Strike.”

  “Me?” she asked. “I’m naughty.” Her voice cracked on the word, which sort of undermined her point. But oh well.

  “How naughty? Popsicle-licking naughty or…”

  She tried to swallow past her dry throat and she just felt like it ended up kind of…stuck together. “Bent-over-the-desk naughty,” she said, feeling a little dizzy.

  She’d never been that kind of naughty before. She’d never been any kind of naughty before Caleb. And now she wanted to try. To have him, here and now. During work hours. With people nearby. It was the perfect time. She had a guy who’d said he’d do anything she wanted, and a list that had given her all kinds of good ideas.

  She was done resisting.

  “You want me to bend you over your desk?” he asked, standing, planting his hands on the hard wooden surface, his palms sliding gently over it, like he was priming himself. And her.

  “I didn’t…say that…” She was backtracking. She was being a coward. “Yes,” she said. “I do.”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  “Who gives the orders around here?”

  “You,” he said, loosening his tie, “you’re the boss, last time I checked.”

  “But someone has to keep me in line.”

  “I see. Are you interested in transferring power?”

  “You’re from the corporate offices, after all. A minion of the evil overlord of the company that paid me a lot of money to create this app.”

  He tapped on his chin with his forefinger. “I suppose that does put me in charge.” She saw the moment that it all flipped around. The moment he took her request and made it his command.

  He walked over to her door and turned the lock, making his way back over to her desk. “Come here.” She obeyed, rounding the desk and standing in front of him, her hands crossed and clasped in front of her, as she’d done their first night together.

  She didn’t know why she was doing this. She didn’t know why she wanted it. She only knew that she did. There was a strange kind of freedom in it. In letting go and giving Caleb the power, even if it was only the power she’d given him.

  But then, that was what made it a safe game. The rules. Rules she’d laid down. And she knew he’d respect them. He had the night they were in his house, completely separate from anyone else, and he would certainly do it here, in her office where she could easily scream for help.

  Oh my… in her office.

  That added more fire to her arousal. Only made her h
otter.

  “Take those leggings off,” he said.

  “I should have chosen something better than leggings to wear today,” she said, pushing the elastic-banded pants down her legs and pausing when they encountered her Toms. She flicked off her shoes and pushed the stretchy black fabric the rest of the way over her feet and onto the floor.

  “Put your hands on the desk, face away from me.” She obeyed, the action thrusting her butt in the air. Her butt, which was now covered only by her stripy boyshorts. Horizontal stripes even. So hot. Not. Her ass probably looked like a giant rainbow zebra.

  She felt his palm on her butt, warm, firm. He slid it down, beneath the waistband of her panties, gripping her bare skin hard. “You like that?” he asked, his breath hot on her neck, her ear.

  “Yes,” she said.

  He gripped the back of her neck with his other hand, holding her steady, holding her still. “You want this?” he asked, sliding his palm from beneath the waistband of her underwear and bringing it down lightly over her fabric-covered skin.

  There was no pain, only a sharp pang of need that crackled out from where his hand met her ass, to her core.

  She bit her lip to keep from making moanysex noises because…there were people outside her office. Why did that make it hotter? Why did that make it so much more…wicked?

  She looked over her shoulder at him and nearly lost it then and there. His tie was draped over his shoulders, his shirt collar undone, revealing a wedge of perfect man-chest. And her eyes drifted lower, to his belt, to the bulge just beneath it.

  She wanted it. All of it. She wanted it now, even though it was wrong. Even though she shouldn’t want him. Not here, not now, not at all. But she was going to have him anyway. Because she didn’t care about should, shouldn’t or what anyone else might think. This was about what she wanted. What she needed.

  After years of settling, she was so due.

  He pushed her panties down her hips and she kicked them to the side. He moved his hand up beneath her T-shirt, cupped her bra-covered breast. “I might leave this on.”

  He released his hold on her breast and moved his attention back down to her butt, his warm palm sliding over her skin.

  “Yesss. Oh…” She took a deep shaking breath. “Yes, Caleb. Touch me.”

  “You are a naughty girl,” he said, his voice rough, his touch firm. So cheesy. It should have put her off, but it turned her on. Because she’d never thought of herself as a naughty girl. A hardworking girl. A nerdy girl. But not terribly naughty, not terribly appealing. Not the kind of woman who abandoned all good sense, reason and deference to moral codes. To societal norms.

  But today she was. And damn she liked it. “You want me, don’t you?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she said.

  “You want me to take you with everyone just outside. If I make you scream, they’ll all hear. They’ll all know. Is that what you want, baby?”

  “Are you asking? I thought you were in charge.”

  “Damn right I’m in charge,” he said.

  At least he was asking what she wanted, not making her fumble around to figure out what he liked. At least his response to her request wasn’t, “you know I don’t like that freaky shit.” Which had, honest to goodness, been her ex’s response to her request for sex from behind. Which, she seemed to be in prime position for now.

  But not yet. Not until after he’d teased her more. Not until he’d made her want it more.

  She heard him working on the belt buckle, one hand still firm on the back of her neck, holding her to her spot at the desk. As if anything beyond an earthquake could move her now.

  She closed her eyes and listened, the soft sound of his belt being tugged through the loops of his pants sending a shiver of anticipation down from where he still held her with his hand, to the base of her spine. Gathering there, a knot of need, of longing that only he could relieve.

  She heard his zipper being tugged down. Who would have ever thought she’d be listening for a zipper sound? And that it would bring her close to the brink of orgasm.

  It was in his control. His control to relieve the unbearable tension, or to hold her on edge like this forever. The waiting was delicious, almost as good as satisfaction.

  She was trembling, shaking from her lips on down. And he was waiting.

  “Tell me how wet you are for me,” he said.

  “I…I…” She was going to die. He was going to kill her with the waiting and his words.

  “Tell me, baby, or I’m not going to give you what you want.”

  “I’m…you make me…you make me so wet,” she said, shifting, trying to alleviate the ache that was burning between her thighs. “I want you so much it hurts.”

  “Where do you want me?” he asked.

  “I want you…I need you…inside me.”

  “Like this?” He moved, his fingers delving between her thighs, spreading her open. She felt exposed, powerless. In the very best way. She was at his mercy, and she had no idea what he would do next. Only that she would like it. Because there was nothing Caleb had done to her so far that she hadn’t liked.

  “More,” she said, the tease excruciating now. She was ready to beg. She had no pride at all where he was concerned. Where this was concerned.

  His fingers grazed her clit before he dipped one inside her. She gasped, her entire body tensing, poised right on the edge. “Or did you want it like this?”

  She nodded, biting her bottom lip. There were no words, at least none she could find.

  He moved his finger in and out of her body. She bucked against him. Needing more now. Needing all of him.

  “Caleb,” she said, his name a long, low moan. And she didn’t even care if anyone heard.

  “You want me,” he said. There was nothing obnoxious or cocky in his tone. It was a sort of intense growl that reverberated through her. It was a reflection of how she felt.

  It wasn’t light, easy wanting. Not now. It was something hard. Intense and demanding. Something that was taking her places she’d never been. Making her crave things she’d never known she wanted.

  He moved his hands and gripped her hips, his tongue sliding over her slick folds, the sudden change, the warm, slick friction making her jump. She bit her lip and put her head down, curling her fingers in, her nails biting into her fists.

  “Oh…Caleb,” she gasped, wishing there was something for her to grab onto. Something she could do to help hold herself together.

  Instead, she just leaned on the desk, hoping that would be enough to keep her from melting into the floor. Hoping it would be enough to keep her from falling apart.

  He pushed his tongue deep inside her, the shock driving a hard spike of pleasure through her stomach and all the way down.

  He continued to work magic on her with his mouth, taking her to the edge before pulling back, teasing her with satisfaction and taking it away.

  Anticipation had never been so sweet. Pleasure had never hurt so much.

  It was pain, needing him so badly and not being filled by him.

  “Take me,” she said, without even realizing she was speaking out loud. “Please, Caleb. Please. I need you.”

  She was begging. She didn’t care. Who had room for pride when they needed this badly?

  “Caleb,” she said, his name a prayer on her lips. “Please, Caleb. Please.”

  He stood up and she heard him tearing open a condom packet. She looked back over her shoulder and watched him roll the condom over his thick length, his pants shoved partway down his lean hips, their partial state of dress only making it all feel hotter. Feel that much more urgent.

  And it was urgent. Damn urgent.

  He pressed his chest against her back, one hand on her stomach, the other on her hip as he thrust slowly inside her. He made a hoarse, tortured sound as he sank in her to the hilt, his hand sliding up, over her breasts, stopping at the base of her neck.

  He flexed his hips against her butt and she let her head fall back. He angled
his head and kissed her mouth as he moved inside her, his hand keeping that possessive hold on her throat. Not hard, not painful. Just steady and firm, a sign of ownership. One she was happy to give him.

  Because in this moment, she felt completely owned by him. Completely lost in him.

  Amazing how a stranger could know so much more about her body, about her needs, than the man who’d shared her bed and her life for ten years. Amazing how he could make her feel so much more than the man she’d thought she’d loved.

  Amazing how free she could feel when she was held captive.

  He pulled her hard against him with each thrust, every movement inside her drawing a feral sound from his lips. This wasn’t the smooth man in the suit. The playboy with easy one-liners. This was a man on the edge of control. And that seemed fair to her since she’d left her control on the floor with her panties quite a while ago.

  “I can’t hold back,” he said, his voice rough.

  “Good. Don’t.”

  He growled, freezing as his orgasm washed through him, the pulse of his cock inside her pushing her that final way, over into oblivion. Her mind went blank, her entire body feeling like it was in a free-fall, weightless, tossed around in wave after wave of pleasure and release that crashed over her, hard and fast so she couldn’t catch her breath. Until she was afraid she would drown. Until she almost hoped she did.

  He held her tight against his body, transferring them to the other side of the desk, sinking down into the chair and bringing her with him, seated firmly on his lap. He was breathing hard, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his shirt stuck to his skin.

  She leaned in and pressed a kiss to his exposed neck.

  “Damn,” he said.

  “Yeah. I think we just violated the workplace code of conduct,” she said, still gasping for air.

  “No one would be surprised to know I violated a code of conduct,” he said.

  “No?”

  “It’s sort of what I do.” He tightened his hold on her waist.

  “Why?” she asked.

  “Why what?”

  “Why do you violate codes of conduct?”

  “I don’t know. Why not?”

  “It’s just…a funny thing to make Your Thing. But whatever, man. I’m in no place to judge. I just begged for it in my place of business. And got it, I might add.” She lifted her shoulder and wiggled out of his hold, standing up and wobbling a bit. “Whoa.”