The VIP Room(173)

“God—Leah—”

“Tell me what you want, Marcus.”

“Faster,” he panted. His balls were already pulling up, the pressure uncontrollable. Every touch, every stroke set him on fire. He was sweating, bucking against her hand, needing faster, harder—needing release.

As if she heard him, her grip tightened, her hand pumping up and down his length. Her breathing was as ragged as his, and he realized she was turned on.

“Leah—”

“You feel so good, so hard. I don’t do this kind of thing, Marcus. I don’t sneak away from an important party to let a man—touch me like you did. I don’t jerk that same man off, but you’re so damn gorgeous, and I’ve wanted you for so long, I had to touch you.”

Holy shit.

She leaned in, took his earlobe between her teeth. Marcus dropped his head back—there was no way in hell she could know that was the most sensitive spot on his body, next to the cock she worked like a pro. She cradled his balls with her free hand, bit his earlobe, and he lost control.

He stiffened, then arched off the bench as he came. Leah kept stroking him, stretching out his release, her lips on his throat. By the time she finished milking him, he fought for breath, every inch shaking. She started to release him and he closed his hand over hers.

“Please stay, just a minute longer. You feel so f*cking good wrapped around me. I’m not in any condition to do anything except breathe, but I—damn, Leah. You were amazing.”

She stared at him. “You swore. You never swear.”

“Not around you. My mother taught me better.” He laid his forehead against hers. “But it’s the only way to describe just how you made me feel. How you make me feel.”

“Marcus—you’re my boss. We can’t—”

“Let’s deal with that tomorrow. Tonight, you’re my date. My incredible, beautiful, f*cking amazing date. Does that scare you?”

“Absolutely.”

He kissed her, moaning when her fingers tightened around his cock.

“We need to get back,” he whispered. All he wanted to do was stay here, wait until he got his stamina back, and fill her, feel her hot, wet body surround him as he thrust into her—

Shit. He had to find a way to break his rule without screwing both of them.

“I should be embarrassed.” She looked down at her hand, and he jerked when she stroked him, slowly. “But I only want to do it again. To watch you lose control again, Mr. Bad Boy Hawkins.” She smiled as she threw out his former nickname. “I should be terrified, considering who you are. But I’m not.”

“You should be.” Hearing his nickname reminded him of who he was—and how much he didn’t want to hurt Leah. Time to snap them both out of this haze. He pulled her hand off his cock, and tucked himself back into his boxers, redressing as he spoke. “The way you look in that gown—I’ve been hard since the second I first saw you. I want to bury myself inside you, f*ck you until we both can’t see straight.” When he looked at her again she was pale, her eyes wide, and the length of the bench between them. Good. He was hoping crude would work with her, give him some badly needed distance. “Do you understand now what kind of danger you’re in?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

Damn, it tore him apart to talk to her like this, but he wanted her too much, and it scared the shit out of him. When her just getting him off made him think of long nights loving her, buying a house, buying a ring—

She was even more dangerous than he first thought.

“Here.” He gentled his voice, held out his handkerchief. “Once you clean yourself up, we can head back.” There was no way he’d be able to clean up the thick streaks he’d left on the marble floor. Apologizing silently to the poor janitor who would stumble across the mess, he stood, and waited for her. The spark that had lit her clear blue eyes all night was gone. “Leah—”

“I’m fine, Mr. Hawkins.” She settled the skirt around her legs, and he had a sinking feeling he knew what she was about to say. “You will have my official resignation in the morning, but I am giving you my verbal one right now.” She slapped his hand away. “Don’t touch me. Don’t you even think of touching me again.”

Before he could open his mouth to apologize, to say something to take back his harsh words, she picked up her clutch, pushed to her feet and stalked down the hall, shoulders back, fury in every line of her body.

Too late he remembered her last relationship, and how she’d been rejected.

“Shit.” He ran one hand through his hair and followed her.

In less than a minute he lost his best assistant, and a woman who could have become an important part of his life.





Chapter 5





Rage and embarrassment took Leah as far as the main foyer. She halted near a long buffet table, her heart pounding. Marcus’ words hurt—and her impetuous resignation hurt more. She loved her job, loved working for him. But if that was how he treated women who got too close, she wanted nothing to do with him, as a man or an employer.

Leah’s stomach rumbled, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten since breakfast. She didn’t care who was watching; she was going to enjoy this buffet.

She grabbed a plate, and joined the line. The thinly sliced ham called to her, and she answered, piling some on her plate, along with potato salad, Caesar salad, and decadent appetizers. Her plate was overflowing by the time she got halfway down the table. She decided to work on this, then go back and peruse the second half of the buffet.