Damien (Stark Trilogy 6)

“Hey, Mr. Stark,” he said, pulling his hand away from Abby as if he’d been snakebit. “Nikki’s first day back? How are you two doing?”

“We’re okay,” Damien said, remembering that Nikki had mentioned that she thought something was going on between Abby and Travis. All things considered, he thought she was right. “It’s good to get back into a routine.”

“Yes,” Abby said. “It absolutely is. And speaking of routine, this is when I go through my emails.”

She scurried off, and Travis shrugged. “She really does like things to be ordered.”

“I’m guessing you go with the flow.”

Travis just shrugged, but something about his grin suggested to Damien that there was a kernel of important truth hidden in there somewhere.

When he returned to Nikki’s office, he found Eric with her. “Damien,” he said. “Good to see you.”

“You too.” The former client development manager had left Fairchild Development to pursue an opportunity in New York, only to come back seeking his old job. Abby had done the hiring, and since Eric was standing right there, it was clear that she hadn’t taken off too many points for his earlier defection.

“Listen,” Eric said, “I wanted to thank you for believing me. About the graffiti, I mean.”

“I didn’t at first,” Damien said. When he’d found Eric on-site right after Nikki had discovered the vandalism, he’d assumed the worst. Thankfully, he’d been wrong. And though he could dislike the man on principle for quitting on Nikki during prep for a major client, Damien couldn’t fault a guy for following a business opportunity. Even if it inconvenienced his wife. “We’re all good,” he told Eric.

“I’m glad to hear it. And,” Eric added, holding up his phone, “I have calls to make.”

“Yes, you do. I want to know where our prototypes are,” Nikki said.

“And I’m all over that. Later, Stark,” he added before slipping out into the hallway.

Damien closed the door. “Looks like the wheels are still turning at Fairchild & Partners Development. Abby did a good job keeping the place going.”

“She did great,” Nikki agreed. “I feel almost useless.”

“That’s the point. Hire good people. Create a machine that drives itself. You’re doing great, baby.”

“That means a lot.” A shadow darkened her eyes. “And I guess it means I could just cut out and go back home if I had to.”

He gripped her upper arms and looked straight at her. “They’re fine, Nikki. They’re home. They’re safe.”

She nodded. “I know. It’s just…”

“What?”

She licked her lips, then looked up at him. “Make me believe it?”

He saw it—the heat. The need. It was that spark that kept him sane. That kept the earth turning on its axis. She needed this—and so, goddammit, did he.

“Strip.”

“What?” Her brows rose as if with shock, but the flare of desire in her eyes belied the expression of incredulity.

He kept his face stern, enjoying himself. “You heard me, Ms. Fairchild,” he said as he moved to her door and locked it. “Everything. Off. Now.”

Her teeth played over her lower lip, and he felt his cock grow hard in response.

“Didn’t you just fuck me in the garage?”

“Arguing?”

“No, Sir.”

He walked a circle around her. “First, I did fuck you in the garage, naked and spread out on the polished rear of my car. Second, I didn’t say I was going to fuck you now. I told you to strip. And you’re going to do just that. Aren’t you?”

She nodded.

He took a step toward her, his skin seeming to vibrate from the electricity arcing between them. “You’re mine, Nikki. Any time I want. Anywhere I say. So I’ll say it again. Strip.”

“Yes, Sir,” she said, and he just about came right then from the knowledge that she wasn’t doing this simply because he told her to, but because she enjoyed it, too.

The shoes came off first, followed by the skirt. He sucked in a breath—he’d forgotten about the panties that had been left behind. Then she unbuttoned the black silk blouse. She let it fall to the ground so that she stood in front of him in only a skimpy lace bra.

“That too. I want you bare. I don’t think this office has been properly christened.”

“No, it hasn’t.” Her voice was low. Breathy. Filled with desire.

“Tell me, baby. Do you like this? Naked in here with me. Your partner and employees just outside that door?”

“Yes.”

“Touch yourself. Show me how much you like it.”

She started to slide her hand between her legs, but he stopped her. “No. Get on the desk facing me. Spread your legs. And then feel how wet you are.”

She didn’t even hesitate, and she never took her eyes off of him. And when she spread her legs and stroked her sweet pussy—when she revealed all the scars that marred her beautiful thighs—he almost wept with joy. Because she didn’t even pause. And those scars were once the thing she was most ashamed of.

“What toys do you have in your office?”

Her eyes, which had started to close in passion, went wide. “What—toys?”

God, he loved that he could still make her blush. “Let’s start easy. Vibrator? Don’t tell me you don’t have one here.” He stood and walked closer, then moved her hand aside so he could cup her heat. “Don’t worry, baby. I like the idea of you working late, thinking about me, needing to get off fast and hard so that you can finish your work and get home so we can do it again, slow and easy.”

“Oh.” The word sounded strangled.

“I’ll ask again. Toys?”

“Somewhere in that mess,” she admitted, nodding toward a stack of boxes. “I—in a small lockbox tucked into a file box.” She shrugged. “I haven’t unpacked.”

He was tempted to search. He’d only brought it up because he was curious, but once he’d pictured her in her chair, legs up on the desk, the rest of the office dark and locked as she got herself off and then cried his name…

Fuck.

“Slide to the edge,” he ordered. “I can help you with this lack of toy problem.” And then he knelt in front of her and kissed her inner thigh, his mouth moving slowly up the inside of one leg while his hand caressed the other. His thumb reached one of her scars, and he brushed the pad lightly over the hard, raised skin.

His mouth found the newest scar on her other thigh, and he traced his tongue lightly over it, hearing Nikki whimper. He didn’t stop, didn’t even hesitate. On the contrary, he moved his thumb higher, finding the hard button of her clit. He teased it with his finger as his tongue soothed the healing wound.

She sucked in air, her fingers twining in his hair and holding him in place. Her hips bucked in a silent demand that he not stop, and he knew that it was about more than the way he was stroking her clit, more even than her submission to his demands. It was understanding and consent, because she knew what he needed. What they both needed. Because this touch was important. It was his apology and his acquiescence. It was his acknowledgement of why she’d cut. And it was her silent assurance that she would never do it again.

Slowly, he teased his tongue up over the map of her scars, wishing he could have fought every one of her battles for her. Then he slipped his fingers deep inside her, moving slowly in and out as he sucked on her sweet, swollen clit.

She cried out, then clamped her mouth shut, obviously afraid that her coworkers would hear. Her body bucked, and her legs began to close, trapping him in heaven. He never faltered. He teased and tormented and pushed her to the edge until finally she arched back, her hips moving as she fucked his fingers, her core spasming around him, drawing him in as he relentlessly teased her clit until she couldn’t take it any longer and she tugged on his hair to pull him back as the orgasm exploded through her, leaving her limp and flushed and breathing hard.

For a moment, he stayed on his knees, taking in

the sight of the disheveled, naked woman perched on her desktop. Then he stood and casually took a business card from her silver cardholder. “Is this your card?”

She glanced at it, clearly confused, then nodded.

“A powerful woman,” he said, moving to stand right in front of her. “A business owner. Yet I tell you to strip and you do. I tell you to fuck your fingers, and you would.” He settled into the guest chair, then lowered his fly and took out his cock, once again as hard as steel. “I tell you to get on your knees and you will. Won’t you, baby?”

“Oh, yes,” she said. “I will.”

“On your knees. Suck my cock.”

She went down immediately, naked before him, her hands flat on her bare thighs.