The Secretary's Bossman Bargain

Virginia didn’t seem to hear the truth in his words, the worry they carried. He felt out of control, and he didn’t like it.

“C-can I try something with you?” she asked hesitantly, easing her top off her shoulders.

He nodded, mute with desire and anticipation.

“Would you stay still, please?” she asked.

“What are you going to do to me, Miss Hollis?” he asked in a guttural voice. He fisted his hands at his sides, watching her hands like a man about to die under them. He stood utterly still, admiring her flesh as she revealed it. His voice was barely audible, his eyes on the gentle curves of her breasts as she stepped out of her pants and at last stood as naked as he.

“Just don’t move, okay?”

So he waited, his chest expanding on each breath. She trembled when she stepped closer. “Can I touch you?”

He swallowed thickly. “Please.”

He sucked in a breath when she set her hand on his chest and began kissing his neck, his ear, his jaw. His breathing became a wild thing. He was motionless as her hands began to roam down his chest. She hesitated at his waist.

His jaw clamped, his nostril flared, when she wrapped her hand around him.

“Is this okay?”

Ecstasy surged through him in a tidal wave. His breath made a strange whistle. “Yes.”

“Do you want—”

His head fell, forehead against hers. “Just keep touching me.”

She eased her fingers between his parted thighs, to gently cup him in her palm. She began to rub.

He hurt under her stroking hand. His mind spun with images of her and him, losing themselves in his bed like he’d wanted to. His hands idle at his sides, he softly, so softly, said, “You’re not pregnant, are you, amor?”

She tensed for a moment, and he frowned. He reached down and pried her hand away.

“Are you? We didn’t use protection the first time, and I’d like to know if there were consequences.”

Ignoring him, she took his shoulders in her little hands and urged him down on the mattress. “The only consequence is this, Marcos. Me. Wanting more.”

He sat there, on his bed, like a man in hypnosis, and watched her straddle him.

They kissed.

Marcos was dying with pleasure, his body rocking as he feasted from her lips, lips that were soft and warm against his, lips that were wide open for his tongue to search in deep, so deep. Her sex cradled his hardness, her legs twined around him as tight as her arms while he ran his hands up her sides, into her hair, groaning at the way she whimpered his name. Marcos. All he could say was, “Virginia.” Oh, Virginia.

He pulled roughly at her hair.

“Why?” His voice was a cragged sound.

“I…I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Why do you look at me like this? What are you playing at?”

Watching him through heavy, sooty lashes, she kissed his nipples, his abs. She was smiling—teasing him with her teeth. Her tongue. Driving him out of his mind. Out. Of. His. Mind. “Must it be a game for you to enjoy it, Mr. Allende?” she purred. “Must we play at another pretense for you to let me in?”

He snatched her hair to halt her wandering mouth, suddenly trembling with thirst for not only her body, but for something else. Something he’d always, always, seen and sensed and tried to

grasp in her eyes. “Are you trying to drive me insane?” he demanded.

She pulled free and lovingly cupped his jaw, kissing him softly on the lips. “I’m trying to make you remember.”