14. Lottie

I'd sworn to myself that I wouldn't let him sway me like this again. Yet I'd managed to go back on that promise.

As soon as we reached his office, Hunter kissed me against the door. This time though, it was locked, and Hunter had to scan his key card in order to unlock it. He barely managed with one hand up in my hair while his mouth was devouring my own.

No matter how infuriating this man was, something about him made me far too uninhibited the moment he touched me. It was as if he knew the exact ways my body needed to be touched, the words I wanted to hear, the perfect places his mouth could go. He could read me like a book, and in any other circumstance, I would have fucking hated it. But when Hunter touched me, I lost my mind.

I nearly fell into the office when the door opened, but he caught me, one arm tightened around the small of my back, keeping me locked to him. Within a second we were inside, the door locked behind us, our suit jackets wrinkled on the floor.

His office was massive. Floor-to-ceiling windows covered one side with a view overlooking the base of the mountains. A large oak desk sat in the center with bookshelves lining the walls on either side, filled with books I'd love to get my hands on. The tile flooring made every step I made with my heels click. I was grateful for the lack of windows between his office and the hallway.

"You can't wear this ever again," he rasped, his fingers frantically popping open the buttons of my shirt. "It's been driving me insane since you got here."

"My pantsuit?" I laughed.

"Yes." He released the last button and pulled the tucked-in fabric out of my pants. "And for fucks sake, Lottie, you have to start wearing undergarments. I can't keep imagining you with nothing beneath your clothes."

I grinned up at him, knowing damn well what I was doing. But in truth, I didn't like wearing them. I didn't particularly need to and I found them incredibly uncomfortable. "No."

He let out a little grunt as he pressed his lips to mine again. His tongue invaded my mouth instantly, clashing with my own eagerly, hungrily, while his fingers knotted themselves around the clasp of my belt. Within seconds, it joined our jackets on the floor.

The room itself was quiet and in direct opposition to the last time I had been in it. It had been tense then, and I'd been so angry with him for summoning me. Things had changed. I'd now go wherever he wanted me to. I'd go to Texas. As long as he touched me and let me come apart in his grip, I'd go anywhere with him.

Even if I knew I'd regret it at the end.

He pulled my heels off and helped me shimmy out of my form-fitting suit pants, leaving me entirely naked before him. He stood tall, still clad in his button-up and slacks, and before I could protest, he was lifting me.

My rear met his hard oak desk, just an inch from the nameplate that read Hunter Harris.

"You are pure temptation," he said. His fingers pushed the hair from my face, hooking it behind my ear before he slowly got to work on his shirt buttons, popping them one after the other. "Do you know how often I picture you like this?"

"Every time you see me?" I smirked. I pushed a handful of papers that sat behind me out of the way, knowing exactly where this was going. I knew damn well I shouldn't. But my body had a mind of its own, and I wasn't prepared to fight it.

"Every time I'm awake," he corrected. "I can't get you out of my goddamn head, Charlotte."

I blinked up at him as his shirt fell to the floor. There was a part of me that wasn't sure if he was being entirely truthful or if this was something he said to every woman he slept with, just a ploy to make me feel special. But the other part of me, the one that didn't care if he was lying, couldn't get him out of my head, either.

His mouth met my skin, hungry little breaths and bites as he explored my upper chest. He knew how to take me. He was focused on me and only me, making that fire in my gut explode with anticipation before allowing himself his own pleasure. And as much as I appreciated that, I wanted more.

I unlatched his belt with expert precision and speed, and he shuddered, the muscles in his chest and arms flexing. "What do you think you're doing?" he mumbled, his teeth catching on the tip of my breast.

"Touching you."

He pressed one knee between my legs, forcing them open. "You can't do that."

"And yet, you're doing nothing to stop me," I laughed, gasping a little as he bit down. I lowered his zipper.

His fingers wrapped around mine, stopping them before I could free him. "If you do that, I won't be able to get the image out of my head."

"Good."

"Charlotte," he purred, the word more a warning than anything else. "I already imagine it enough. If I know what it feels like, I won't be able to handle it."

His tongue dragged across my nipple, sending little flames straight down between my thighs. I knew for damn sure that I was soaked already, but the way he spoke, the way he said my name, was enough to turn me into something I didn't recognize. Someone that didn't care about the consequences of their actions.

"I want you to know what it feels like," I said, dipping my fingers below the waistline of his boxers. Short, groomed hairs tickled my fingertips, and as they reached low enough to brush against the start of his shaft, he let out a hefty groan. "And I don't want you to be able to stop thinking about it."

I wrapped my hand around his cock, tugging the boxers further down until his length sprang from it.

Fuck.

I hadn't paid too much attention to how his cock looked back in Oahu. Tensions had been high, I'd been out of my mind, and all I'd been able to think about was having him inside of me. Now, though, I could see it in my hand. I could feel the weight of it, the tightness of his skin, the throbbing of his pulse, the way he curved upward just a little. He was rock hard, thick in all the right places, long enough to split me in two. Right at the end, on his swollen, red tip, a little drop of precum dripped.

My mouth watered.

I slid my thumb along the slit, collecting the tiny pool of liquid, and brought it to my mouth.

"Christ," he breathed, eyes wide as saucers as he watched me.

I sucked every last bit off my thumb, genuinely enjoying the lightly salty, sweet taste. Almost as sweet as honey. "What?" Wrapping my fingers back around his shaft, I dragged them up and down, up and down, with the lightest of touches. He felt like warm silk beneath my touch. As much as I wanted him inside of me, the idea of teasing him, of getting him to picture this anytime he saw me, was like heroin to my brain. I needed it and I needed it badly.

"You're too much," he said. His fingers knotted themselves in the base of my hair, closing into a fist. "And I can't tell if you should be punished for that or if I should let you do what you want with me."

Punished. I wondered just how intensely he meant that. I'd dabbled in the darker things from time to time, and I wasn't against them at all. I just didn't know how far he'd go. "Either sounds like a challenge."

He pulled on my hair, forcing my chin to rise. I watched him down the bridge of my nose, watched as his face twisted into something a little more sinister when my fingers tightened around his cock. "Are you testing me, sweetheart?"

Yes. "No."

"Liar," he hissed. "You're too easy to read."

He tightened his fist further, forcing little pinpricks of pain to bloom at the base of my skull. I sucked in air through my teeth, needing friction, needing pleasure to drown out the pain. As if on cue, his knee wedged further upward, pressing against my growing dampness.

"Grind," he ordered. The word sounded so casual, so easy, though it was powerful enough to cause me to become a puddle on the floor.

I obliged.

Hooking my feet on the sides of his hard thighs gave me just enough leverage to be able to move my hips. Friction came instantly, the feel of his slacks against my clit igniting an inferno in my gut. Knowing that I was likely to leave a little wet spot that he'd have to walk around with made it all the more tantalizing.

"Fuck," I sighed. I was losing the will to hold on to his cock, losing the will to tease him. I just wanted more of him.

"There you go, sweetheart," he cooed, prying my fingers from his shaft with ease. "Attagirl."

Footsteps echoed just beyond the door, a familiar click-clack of heels. My cheeks heated as I worked myself, gaze flickering between Hunter's half-lidded eyes and the ceiling tiles. Just writhing beneath him in desperation would be enough to make me come if it had to be. Hell, the way he looked at me was likely enough. But I had to have more. I was starving for it.

"Please," I breathed, grabbing at the back of his neck. I tried to pull him over me, tried to pry him from his position, but he stayed locked in place. "Please, Hunter."

"Please, what?"

I glared at him. He knew damn well what I was asking for. "Fuck me, you idiot."

His grip on my hair turned evil immediately. I sucked in air, moving my hips faster, harder, to cancel out the pain. "That's not very nice, Charlotte."

"You're not very nice."

"I'd argue that I'm being very nice to you right now," he chuckled, low and down deep in his chest, almost menacing in its timbre. "I'm letting you grind your needy pussy against my knee. I don't have to do that. I can take it away."

I let out a squeal as his teeth closed down again on my nipple, tugging, pulling, lashing it with his tongue. The pain only brought more pleasure, rippling along every inch of my spine and pooling where my hips met his knee. "Please don't."

Within a second, he changed the game. I didn't even have time to blink, to wonder, to fight to keep my upper hand. He removed his knee and spread my legs wide, his hips on the inner side of my thighs. Releasing my hair, he held me instead with one arm around my waist, keeping my rear on the desk and my back hovering.

I gasped the moment I felt hot, damp skin against my entrance. "You… you locked the door, right?"

The stretch hit before my mind caught up with it. He pushed himself almost halfway in, giving me a moment to breathe, to accommodate him. He was thick enough that my fingers didn't touch when I'd held him, and even though the burn felt good, it was still a burn.

"Do you not trust me?" he teased, slowly lowering me to the desk and using one arm to push my knees higher. He sank further in, nearly to the hilt, forcing a moan out of me that I don't recall every making before. "Do you honestly think I want someone walking in on this?"

I couldn't think straight. I needed him to move, needed him to drive himself into me, needed him to touch the little bundle of nerves that was crying for attention. "I-I don't know," I stuttered. "You didn't care in Hawaii."

"You were still dressed in Hawaii." Achingly, slowly, he dragged himself out, just the tip still inside, before sinking in with his full length once again. The fog hit. "I don't want anyone but me seeing what's beneath my little plaything's clothes."

If I had any sanity left, I should have used it to fight him on that. But all that came were little whispers in the back of my mind, telling me I was making a mistake, that I was falling into the goddamn trap I'd practically laid out for myself. I'd regret this. I'd regret it as soon as the night ended, as soon as my head hit my pillow and I gave it all a second thought. But in that moment, I didn't care.

I just needed him to fuck me.

"Hunter," I bit out, reaching up to him and digging my nails into his bare chest. The hard lines, the ripples and cords of muscle, every bit of him was pure temptation bottled into one man. It wasn't fair. "Please."

"Goddammit, you say that so prettily."

The force he drove into me after saying that was enough to shake the desk beneath us. My head fell back onto his mousepad, the cushion a welcome sensation against my tender skull. I could die happy like this, filled with him, warm hands all over me, the blistering pleasure he somehow unleashed.

My hips reacted in time with his as much as they feasibly could. It was hard with the rigid surface beneath me, but I met him every step of the way, letting my body move the way it wanted to. His thumb slid across my clit, just a tease, but I nearly screamed at the intensity of it.

"Fuck, Lottie," he grunted. He grabbed my jaw with one hand, his finger against my lower lip. "You look so good on my desk."

I grinned up at him. All sense of control was gone, all morality out the window. "Keep me here, then."

"Keep you here?" he laughed, dragging his hand down from my jaw and wrapping his fingers around my neck. He was gentle, careful, but holy shit that made the adrenaline in my system increase twofold. I grabbed him by the wrist, half to make sure I could break his hold if needed and half to reassure him that I wanted it. "You'd like that, wouldn't you? Naked and dripping beneath my desk, not making a fucking sound. Ready to be fucked whenever I needed a release. Putting that stubborn mouth to good use for once."

Every word he spoke was dripped in filth. In practice, that sounded like my worst nightmare, but when he said it while buried inside me fucking me so hard I could almost see heaven, it sounded like a dream. In those moments, I could understand why he was such a playboy. It made sense why women were so eager for him, even if he'd drop them like a bad habit afterward. I was slowly finding myself becoming one of his groupies.

He loomed over me, one hand on my throat and the other playing too gently with my clit. I whimpered, bucking my hips at him, desperately trying to gain more friction. He gave it to me, and immediately, my release was in sight. His fingers tightened at the sides of my neck, and I dug mine into the soft spot of his wrist. A warning. He was careful, though, and didn't put a lick of pressure against my windpipe. I could still breathe.

"Do you want to come, Lottie?"

"Fuck, yes."

His chest shook as he groaned, his eyes fluttering closed for just a moment before they were trained on me again. The pressure was building as I rocketed my way toward orgasm. I gasped desperately for air, my back arching hard . Only when I was right there, hanging on the precipice, staring down the burst of pleasure, did I open my mouth again.

"Please, can I?—"

"Come for me, Lottie," he rasped, releasing my neck to cover the entirety of my mouth.

Thankfully, he did. A scream tore from my throat, muffled by his hand, as pleasure ravaged my body so intensely that I wasn't sure where I was for a second. He thrust into me through it, dragging it out as long as he could, practically torturing me with my own ecstasy.

And then the tether broke.

My body shook, and somewhere in the haze he must have finished inside of me. I could barely register what was happening as he wrapped me in his arms, lifting me from the desk and against his chest. I felt empty, and I realized he'd pulled out at some point.

"Hey, hey, you're okay," he cooed. Placing his thumb gently beneath my chin, he tilted my face up to look at him. Everything was fuzzy, like I was somewhere in the back seat of my mind watching through a pinprick. "Deep breaths, Charlotte."

I focused on my breathing, feeling the cool air enter my nose, the warm air exit my mouth. He held me against him as he gently brushed my hair away from my face.

"You did so well with that," he breathed.

"Did you… ?"

Hunter nodded. "You squeezed hard enough to push me out, though," he laughed, cupping my cheek and leaning down to press the lightest of kisses against my lips. "Are you okay?"

"I think so." The more I breathed, the better I felt. My vision cleared and he came into focus, all soft lines and heavy lids, pupils dilated so wide I could barely make out the green around them. "You're not really going to force me to live under your desk, are you?"

The little snort he made was enough to assure me that he absolutely wasn't. "No. I only said it because we were in the moment."

The level of comfort I was beginning to feel was strangely reassuring. Considering I had just fucked my boss, on his desk, in his office, with his father and brother in the same building was pretty bad ass. The anger I typically felt whenever he was around was waning at a steady pace. I chuckled, burying my face into the center of his chest, breathing in the woody, pine smoke scent of him. "Why did I like that so much?"

I could feel his shrug. "We don't always know what we like during sex until we try it. Doesn't mean we want it all the time. I wouldn't overthink it."

There wasn't a single part of me that wanted this moment to end. It felt like something had just been conquered— whether it was the barrier I had built to keep him out or the animosity between us, I wasn't sure. Either way, things felt lighter, easier. I realized it was exactly how I wanted them to feel.

"I should get you home," he sighed without any effort toward making a move.

"You should keep a bed in your office," I mumbled. "Then we could just stay."

He laughed lightly, the humor in it dying out fairly quickly. "You'd just hate me in the morning."

"I could never hate you."

He pulled back, far enough to get me to look up at him. The expression on his face was one of mild surprise. "I should record you saying that so I can play it back next time you're chastising me for God knows what."

I cringed at the idea. "Please don't."

"I wouldn't." He let go of me then, his warmth retreating and leaving me cold, naked, and a little sweaty atop his desk. Between my thighs, a little trickle of white made its way downward. "It's past closing time. We should head out."

I hopped down from the desk on shaky legs, making sure I had my balance before I gathered my strewn clothes from the floor. Hunter tucked his cock back into his slacks and zipped them up, depriving me of the arguably excellent view. He laughed when he caught me watching.

"Don't be so obvious or I'll keep you here all night."

"Is that a promise?" I smirked.

The way the muscles in his chest flexed as he slid his shirt over his arms and shoulders was something I would be thinking about for days to come.

After dressing, I grabbed my tote bag from the floor. It felt a little lighter in comparison to this morning, and after a quick glance inside, I groaned. "Aargh. I forgot my laptop in the conference room."

"I can get it for you?—"

"No, no, it's fine," I huffed. I pulled on my strappy heels, barely keeping my balance on one foot. "You go ahead to the car and get it warmed up. I'll grab it and meet you down there."

————

Trying to remember the way I'd come into the Boulder offices that morning was a bit of a mind game post-sex, but as I slid my laptop into my bag and navigated the halls, I found the exit easier than I thought I would.

I didn't know how to feel about what had happened in his office. Despite the ongoing hostility between us, the intense passion, the unexpected necessity of it had felt so real. The sweetness he'd shown me afterward, the playful banter, the dirty talk. It seemed less like an opportunistic quickie and more like something genuine. I knew that in a few hours the haze would wear off and I would hate myself for enjoying every second of it. Or would I?

Dad had warned me extensively about him. How he had a track record of making girls fall for him only to leave them in the dust. However in this case, we were tied at the hip for at least six months, his idea. If something came of it, would he be able to drop me so easily? After the amount of time we'd have spent together, surely feelings would have developed for him, too. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking.

I pushed open the front door, immediately getting a face full of freezing air. I pulled my jacket tighter around me, thankful that I'd sent Hunter out to warm the car first. A massive semi-truck had parked directly in front of the entrance. Great.

"Charlotte?"

My feet froze mid-step. I knew that voice, knew it all too well. I knew it in my bones, knew it from hundreds of voicemails and whispered sweet nothings in the middle of the night.

My blood ran cold.

I turned, and there, in the low outdoor lighting from the office building, stood my ex.