Deluxe Cinderella Chronicles 3 Story Box Set Page 4
The dark sprinkle of hair on his chest drew her fingers. Her index finger circled his dark, flat nipple even as Lauren’s eyes locked with his. Then her hand slid downward…past his navel. Her fingers closed around his cock and she watched his eyes dilate and then half shut. She stroked the underside of his head with her thumb. The low sound that escaped his mouth filled her ears like a heady rush of passion-laced power. If a mere touch drew a reaction, what could more effort deliver?
Tightening her grip on him, she tilted her head slightly, eyes narrowed. “I want you sitting against the headboard.”
Matt did as Lauren said, because when a woman basically had you by the balls, what choice did you have? Not that he wanted to argue. He’d always been a control freak in and out of bed, but he was enjoying Lauren. She didn’t know how evident her conflicting emotions were. He could see her battle with herself and revel in each action she took.
She waited to release him until he gave her a nod of agreement. As he felt the wood against his back, legs flat in front of him he reveled in this new experience. For the first time in his life, giving control away not only felt right, it delivered a potent burst of arousal. Why, he wondered, was he so comfortable allowing Lauren what he had no other?
Lauren straddled his hips and pressed his cock flat against her stomach. He reached for her, wanting to touch her, and taste her. She held up a hand. “Stop. No touching. Not until I say so. Hands by your side.”
He wanted to laugh at how crazy this was. This was a totally new experience for him. A part of him wanted to grab her and slide her down on top of his cock and fuck her until she cried out his name. But as his hands settled on the mattress, she leaned forward, palms on the headboard, one hand on either side of his head. Her mouth lingered just above his and he could feel her nipples, pebbled and hard, brushing his chest.
That was it. To hell with giving up control. He needed to take her. But before he could act, her mouth slanted over his. The slide of her tongue over his came at him like a rush of electricity. It drew him with its current, taking his calculated actions and throwing them to the wind. Compelling his submission.
Like being under a spell, he lost himself in the tantalizing effects of the slide of her tongue. He could only think of this. Of the sweet flavor of her. She tasted like wine and something else, something sweet…like heaven. His hand went to the back of her head so he could deepen the kiss. A mistake. He’d forgotten her orders. She shackled his wrist, pushing it by his side. The move pressed her breasts into his chest. The ripe peaks of her nipples pressed into his body and he found himself more urgent. Needing someplace to put the hunger of his hands not allowed satisfaction.
Like a kitten, she purred into his mouth, meeting his demands with her own. Rubbing against him with passion driven friction. The V of her legs pressed against his stomach, wet and hot, and in need of him…inside her. Yet, she didn’t allow him to give her that satisfaction. She kept them both waiting…and wanting.
Before they did something they would regret, he reached for sanity. “A condom. We should get one.”
“I’m on the Pill,” she said and then her hand slid between their bodies and she stroked his cock, pressing it against her stomach and her palm. Teasing him unmercifully. Just thinking of feeling her wet heat without the restrictions of a rubber turned up the heat. He knew this woman hadn’t made casual sex a habit. He’d seen it in her eyes, in internal battles to let go, and feel. And he’d never been stupid. He always used protection. They were safe…and this thing they had going on between them was different in some indescribable way.
Over and over she ran her hand up and down his length, kissing him, nipping his lips with her teeth. When he thought he had could bear no more, she suddenly lifted her body, and guided him inside her. No hesitation. No slow slide. In one fast move, she absorbed his cock and took his breath. She leaned back, angling him deeper. Just when he thought he’d have to grab her to lend her balance, she proved him wrong. Her fingers dug into his shoulders and she started riding him.
He’d done a lot of fucking in his life but never had he experienced such a moment as this one. On top of him, a wild woman determined to pleasure herself, she was the most gorgeous creature he’d ever seen. To hell with her no-touching rule. The beauty of her breasts bouncing with the sway of her hips urged him to act. He filled his palms, and kneaded. She leaned forward, her hands going to his wrists as if she intended to stop him. But, he wouldn’t hear of it. His drew one ruby red tip into his mouth and suckled. Staring down at him, she bit her bottom lip, watching him lick the round bud and then scrape it with his teeth.
“You’re beautiful,” he murmured.
She didn’t say anything, but then, she didn’t have to. Her eyes said it all. For several seconds they didn’t move. Their bodies were joined, and it seemed their mind and emotions were too. Something alive and powerful passed between them. It felt as if they had joined beyond bodies. Beyond the moment.
And then something inside him snapped. Urgency. A need for more. He slid one hand up her back and used the other to grip her neck and urge her mouth to his. And this was not just a kiss. It was an explosion. Suddenly, they were moving as one, kissing, touching…grinding hips together. Never before had he wanted to soak in a woman the way he did this one.
Kissing became impossible. Faces buried in each other’s necks, the fierceness of their strokes, slides, and moves became more intense. Fulfillment became more important than anything did. Getting seemed like joining more completely. Getting closer. Pushing hard. Her little moans became more breathless. More potent in their impact on his body. On his willpower. He ached for release but wanted to wait for her. Her pleasure. Then his. When the first spasm of her release jerked at his cock, he moaned, feeling her body rip his own orgasm from his control. Together they shuddered and shook, clinging together in the last moments of pleasure. And then lying there, entwined, intimate and satisfied.
Long moments later, Matt sighed with satisfaction. He slid down onto the bed, keeping her close. He grabbed some tissue off the nightstand and handed it to her, not willing to let her escape. She accepted almost shyly. Gone was the dominant woman of minutes before. And he loved it. She fascinated him.
He pulled her close to his side, tucking her under his arm and holding her close. This was one woman he wasn’t going to let slip away. There was something about her…he wanted to know what.
He needed to know her.
* * * * *
Lauren’s eyes fluttered open to be greeted by darkness. Disoriented, she forced a deep breath and focused. A warm body lay next to hers. The present came back to her in a rush of hot memories. Matt.
A feeling of safety and belonging rushed over her. Slowly, a smile curved her lips. He was amazing. Too much so.
Squeezing her eyes shut, she battled a range of emotions. She didn’t want the night to end. The thought of never seeing Matt again made her chest tighten. It took effort to stay clearheaded. She wanted more…of Matt. Of this fantasy. Of pretending the rest of the world didn’t exist. These feelings were exactly what she didn’t want. A one-night stand should end nice and easy. Thanks for the orgasm and have a good life.
So, why did it feel as if what she had with Matt was more? No! She didn’t allow herself to finish the thought, let alone answer. This was pure stupidity going on in her head. She lived in a real world. No fantasies of knights in shining armor for this girl.
It was time to leave.
The sooner the better. Staying for goodbye might make her get all funny about this. And she most certainly didn’t want to have some brain dead, emotional moment where she said, “Hey want to do this again, over and over, for the rest of our lives?”
Decision made, she should have moved. Instead, she laid there, her body pressed to his, absorbing his maleness. And her yearning for more. Of him. Now. Later. Whenever. For those few moments, she cut herself some slack, and imaged waking up with him. And what it would be like to have a real relationship
with love, comfort, and support.
With it came a sick flutter of her stomach. Longing for unrealistic things hurt more than it helped. She had to find a way to take care of her and her mother. Depending on someone else was dangerous. To date, it hadn’t worked for her. Forcing herself back to the hard, cold reality of her world, Lauren carefully eased out of the crook of Matt’s arm. She felt the loss of his warmth in every inch of her body.
Staring down at him, she let a slow, silent breath trickle from her lips. Dark, sexy stubble had formed on his square jaw. She wouldn’t have thought anything could make him sexier than before but somehow it did. Maybe, because it made him a bit more “bad boy” looking. She didn’t know really. The simple truth was the man was damn hot. Her hand darted out to touch him, but then she yanked it back. The last thing she wanted was to wake him up.
With regret, she slipped out of the bed. A mixture of relief and disappointment filled her when he didn’t move.
Tiptoeing, she managed to gather her shoes, and slip from the darkness unnoticed. She didn’t allow herself to look back at Matt, her perfect stranger. A few minutes later, she stood in the center of the living room, now fully dressed. Scanning the room, she noted the expensive leather furnishings and artwork.
Lauren sighed. This was so not her world.
Spotting a desk, she found herself standing at it, reaching for paper and pen. Why she felt compelled to leave a note, she didn’t know.
Matt, You were right, I will never, ever forget you.
Impulsively, she dug in her purse and applied lipstick before pressing her lips against the paper. Now, where to leave the note…she eyed the kitchen table and planted the note in the center. Without another glance around the room, she darted to the front door.
Chapter Seven
One Year Later
Lauren approached the subway entrance as a cool breeze blew through her hair, sending a chill across her skin. Suppressing a shiver, she rushed down the stairs as she pulled her jacket tighter around her body.
She stepped into one of the cars, trying to focus on the importance of what lay ahead. Today was her first day of work at The Carlson Group. After only one year with a smaller firm, a headhunter had found her and placed her with the major firm. It had happened so fast, her head was still spinning. Oblivious to the rumble of voices and shuffling of bodies in and out of the car, she slipped into a reverie. When Cat had suggested a celebration night, this time she’d flatly refused. Besides, she’d worked straight through her notice at the old firm, without so much as a breather. Lauren knew not to burn bridges. If she ever needed to return, she wanted an open door.
And she didn’t need a repeat of her fantasy night anyway. Not that she thought any man could duplicate what Matt had done to her. Matt had driven her crazy with desire but he’d also touched her deep inside. Why, she didn’t know. Maybe she never would. And he lingered in her mind like a permanent fixture. That one night had virtually ruined “Red Hot Secrets” for her. Watching Tara get all hot and bothered just didn’t do it for Lauren anymore.
Mentally, she kicked herself for even thinking of Matt again. He’d been a one-night stand, and nothing more. Today was an important day. Matt didn’t belong in her thoughts. Her new job did.
The subway car came to a screeching halt, yanking Lauren abruptly out of her reminiscing. This was her stop. Pulling her shoulders back, she resolved to focus on her career. Making a good impression at Carlson could take her life to that next step forward.
A few minutes later, she entered the lobby of the building housing her new employer, absorbing the elegance all around her. Marble, glass, and expensive art adorned the walls. Despite prior visits, she found herself awed by the unique architecture that rounded the corners of the walls. And the difference between her new employer and her old screamed night and day. Quaint and homey but very low-key, her old firm had a limited budget, which showed in their décor and even choice of buildings.
Carlson was on the top of their game and they displayed it boldly.
Lauren signed in with security and made her way to the elevator. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach as she watched the flash of each floor number light up. By the time, the elevator opened, she’d talked herself into calmness.
She could do this.
The first thing she saw as she stepped into the lobby elevator was a massive desk. It was shaped like a half-circle and glistened of polished mahogany. Eager to make herself a welcome addition, she quickly marched up to the reception desk and the receptionist she’d met during her interview visits. “Hello, Lori. I’m Lauren Reynolds. Remember me?”
Lori, who Lauren guessed to be about fifty, peered over the rim of her sliver glasses. “Yes, I remember you.”
Lauren extended her arm across the desk to offer the woman a handshake. “Nice to see you again.”
With a curious look in her eyes, Lori removed her glasses and laid them on the desk. She placed her hand in Lauren’s. “Welcome, Lauren.”
Before the handshake ended, a familiar voice sounded. “You’re here.”
Lauren turned to find Celia Ward, a rather round and overtly friendly woman who happened to be the secretary to the Vice President. “Yes, I’m here. I can hardly believe it.”
“Well, we are thrilled to have you,” Celia said, a blonde curl bouncing out of the clip that had held her hair neatly in a bun. She swiped at it with her hand. “I’m falling apart already,” Celia said. “See how I need you?”
Lauren laughed. She’d already figured out Celia had the ears of the company. She knew everything about everyone. “Somehow I think I’m going to need you a whole lot more than you need me.”
Following Celia down a long hallway, Lauren soon found herself in a small office. It was bare except for a desk, several chairs, and a few miscellaneous office supplies, all of which appeared to be brand-new. The room smelled of new leather.
“It’s all yours,” Celia said with a smile and a wave of her hand.
“I love it,” Lauren said with a genuine smile. “Now I just need to earn it.” Basic tools sat on top of the shiny desktop—computer and printer, tape, a pencil holder, and several large notebooks.
“I’m quite sure you will, Lauren.” Celia gave her a wise smile. “I know people, and you will do well.”
“Thank you,” Lauren said, touched by her confidence. “I hope you’re right. I certainly appreciate the support. I need all the people in my corner that I can get.” Unable to help herself Lauren walked around the desk and sat down in the high back chair. Very comfortable, and not cheap. She swiveled around to face her window. “Wow. What a great view!” Lauren peered out at the view, thrilled to see the towering skyline of Manhattan.
“You should see it at sunset,” Celia said. Lauren swiveled back around to face her. Celia continued, “I’ll help you through the first few days. Anything you need, just say the word.” Celia winked and perched her hip on the arm of a visitor’s chair. “Including the insider scoop.”
“Thank you very much. I have to admit, I’m nervous.”
“Don’t be. You’ll do great.”
For the next forty-five minutes, Celia settled into a chair across from Lauren and covered basic orientation material. She finished with, “You should have a phone list, access cards and codes, a general run-down of the staff, and who does what with explicit details.” Celia sighed. “I’ll leave you to study up and get settled. Buzz me if you need help with anything.”
She started toward the door, but stopped a moment, turning back to Lauren. “Coffee is in the kitchen by the reception area. Make yourself at home.” Then, she left.
The minute she was alone, Lauren searched through her drawers and found a pair of scissors. She quickly hopped up and cut off the tags dangling from the visitors’ chairs. She preferred to forget her newness. She didn’t need any reminders that she was the new kid on the block. Her nerves were doing that job quite well without any extra help.
Before Lauren could even get throu
gh a small portion of the staff rundown, Celia poked her head back into Lauren’s office. “Lauren you need to be at a meeting at nine o’clock, and it is already eight-forty-five. You’ll have these meetings every Monday. Sorry, I didn’t tell you sooner, but I honestly didn’t think they would have you join them your first day.”
Lauren sat stunned. “Me either. Are you sure?” There was nervousness in her voice she couldn’t hide.
“Tyler specifically asked for you by name,” she said with a shrug of her shoulders.
Grabbing a legal pad and a pen, Lauren followed Celia to the meeting location, adrenaline rushing through her body and making her heart beat double time. Moments later, she stood at the door of the gigantic conference room, silently sizing up the six men and four women who sat around the table. All eyes went to Lauren.
Tyler sat in a seat directly to the right of the head of the table. That seat remained open. Lauren looked at the empty chair assuming it belonged to the new president of Carlson. The industry was abuzz about the retirement of the former executive of the firm. His son Matthew was now taking over, having relocated from another state.
And when she had heard his name, she’d desperately searched for a picture of him with no results. Though she knew this new president had just relocated from Los Angeles his name was familiar and a hint of fear had grown to near panic. What if? After all, he had ties in New York. It could be her Matt. Her stranger. Still, what were the odds?
Tyler pushed to his feet, and waved Lauren forward, a warm smile on his lips. He spoke to the group even as he focused on her. “This is Lauren Reynolds, team, our new associate. Please make her feel welcome.”
Tyler was in his mid-forties, with red hair and fair skin, and confidence he wore like a second skin. Lauren liked him from the moment she’d met him in her interview. He came off highly professional but also approachable. Not too full of himself.