Beg for It(38)

“Like this?” His hand moved between her legs. Fingers tweaking her clit. She was so wet he slid two knuckles deep inside her without effort, then out to circle the slickness over the tight knot of nerves.

“Fuck, yes. That. Oh…f*ck.”

She wanted to watch him, but pleasure kept forcing her eyes to close. Her hips lifted, rocking. He f*cked deeper into her, then out, taking the time to concentrate on her clit long enough to bring her to the edge before easing off. His other hand took care of himself, faster and faster, jacking just below the head. Sometimes he thrust into his fist instead of stroking, and the sight of that drove her wild because it matched up perfectly with the timing of his fingers pushing in and out of her.

“How many women? Corinne asked with an edge in her voice.

“A lot.”

“You made them come?”

“All of them.” Reese groaned. He moved faster. His touch stuttered a moment, but that only sent her higher and higher, closer to the edge.

Her muscles tensed, pleasure building. She had to remind herself to breathe. She was going to come any second. She wanted him with her.

“You f*cked them,” she muttered, not a question, but he answered her as though she’d made it one.

“Yes. Shit, yes, I f*cked them.”

Her gaze locked on his. Her body bore down on him. Her fingers dug into the rug at her sides as she moved with him, perfectly in sync despite the fact he wasn’t f*cking her with his cock.

“How many of them,” Corinne asked, “f*cked you?”

His body jerked at her words. Reese shouted, hoarse, something that might’ve been her name or a prayer or a curse or a plea, or possibly a combination of all of those. Thick, hot fluid covered her belly. The smell of it, of his desire, this proof of how much he wanted her, finally tipped her over and she rode the waves of orgasm as she shook and lost herself inside it.

Some minutes after that, he’d spooned behind her, a hand flat on her belly in the stickiness he’d left behind. His face pressed to the back of her neck, pushing aside the fall of her hair. They breathed together, one breath. Two. Perfectly matched in this the way they’d been with everything else. She was drifting into sleep when he spoke, waking her.

“None of them ever did,” Reese said. “That was only ever you.”





Chapter Twenty-One



Reese had never particularly despised Monday mornings, but today he was looking forward to going into the office about as much as he would have enjoyed a kick to the crotch. Since waking up alone on his living room floor Saturday morning, he’d already been feeling like he’d taken a knee between the legs. The sight of Corinne’s closed office door didn’t help make anything easier.

He should have called her.

No, f*ck that. She was the one who’d snuck out without a word, not even a note. If anyone should’ve picked up the phone, it ought to have been Corinne…except Reese knew that wasn’t the way things worked. Not with most women, and certainly not with her.

He wanted to blame the booze for Friday night, but the truth was that two and a half glasses of Merlot were nowhere near enough to have made him out of control. He’d known exactly what he was doing when he’d called her to come over. When he’d kissed her. He remembered every second of it and couldn’t forget it.

What if she wanted to?

She’d crept away before the dawn and he hadn’t heard from her since. What if she were regretting everything that had happened? What if he’d done nothing but make a colossal fool of himself over her?

Grouchy, Reese logged in to his email to take care of a few things. He shot off a few replies, then forwarded the rest to Tony, who was due here in Lancaster tomorrow. After that, he pushed back in his chair, fingers laced behind his head, and closed his eyes to replay Friday night.

The taste of her. The scent. The sound of her moans. The clutch of her body on his…

With a discontented mutter, Reese let his feet hit the floor. He looked at his desktop’s instant message window. There she was, the small bright green circle next to her name showing her online. He typed quickly, before he could change his mind.

I NEED A MEETING AT 11. MY OFFICE. BRING REPORTS.

Her answer came a moment later. OK

Okay? That was it? Frowning, Reese typed again.

MAKE SURE THEY’RE THE MOST RECENT, THE CORRECT ONES

This time, she didn’t answer.

He was being an idiot, and he knew it. It was only ten in the morning now, and he didn’t want to spend the next hour thinking about her. He didn’t even give a damn about the reports—Stein and Sons had been in a financial mess, but it hadn’t been because of anything Corinne had done wrong. All he was doing was looking for an excuse to call her into his office, when what he really needed to do was just go in, take her in his arms, and kiss her until she couldn’t breathe.

Instead, he changed into a pair of shorts and a T-shirt from his gym bag and went for a run. Reese didn’t love running, but that was part of why he did it. He had to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other and not on what he was going to say to Corinne about what had happened. By the time he got back, sweating and sore, it was closer to noon than eleven.

She was waiting for him in his office. Today she wore a sleek black skirt that hit just below the knee, with a little pleat in the rear that showed off the backs of her knees when she shifted. Her blouse, a pale green dotted with tiny black dots, had him remembering the times when he’d fed her spoonfuls of her favorite ice cream flavor, mint chocolate chip. She’d pinned her hair up in a soft twist that made him want to tug it free of the pins and sink his face into it.