Taken by Lora Leigh
“You know, I can’t decide if you’re truly insane, or if you’re just trying to make me crazy.”
And if it were the latter, he wondered, was it working?
Of course, it could be the former as well, because God knew she had managed to turn his life upside down.
“Does it matter which?” he asked softly against her ear, feeling that little shiver of response as it raced down her back. “Tell me you really want me out of your life, Sheila. Go ahead, lie to me and I’ll walk away.”
Could he walk away? He didn’t think it was possible. Not as long as he could feel her body heating for his, as long as he could feel that response for him in her kiss.
“No, you wouldn’t, Casey,” she denied as he finally felt her softening in his arms. “You’d just try to find another way to convince me.”
Hell, she knew him too well.
He hadn’t expected that.
“Why don’t you just tell me what you want from me, Casey.”
They both came to a stop as the music faded away.
His head lifted as she turned her gaze up to him, those deep violet eyes nearly drowning him in the knowledge, the sadness that filled them.
“Tell you what?” he asked her softly. “How much I want you? How hard you make me? Hell, Sheila, you already know all that.”
She shook her head softly. “No, Casey. Why don’t you just go ahead and tell me what you want from me, or from my father. Don’t you know I still want you so desperately that I’d probably give it to you, or convince Dad to do it? You don’t have to play these games with me. You never did have to play these games with me.”
You never leave a lady standing on the dance floor.
Never curse a lady.
A lady was a lady even when she wasn’t behaving like a lady.
Never embarrass a lady in front of friends and coworkers. Especially if she holds a position of power.
Those lessons had been drummed into him as a child before his parents’ deaths.
He could remember lazy summer mornings as a young boy spent fishing on the banks of the river that eventually killed his parents and listening to the amusing assortment of rules his father had attempted to teach him where women were concerned.
Those lessons came in handy now.
He allowed his fingers to deliberately curl around her upper arm as he led her from the floor and back to the bar. He should have left her at the bar. Hell, he should have parked her right at the bar with Sarah and Cooper and left himself.
Hanging around was the worst thing he could have done. And allowing himself this confrontation with Sheila was sure a real bad decision.
He just couldn’t seem to help himself.
Anger, resentment, and pure male pride had him by the throat while lust still had him by the balls.
It was a hell of a combination.
And even as he pulled her past a watchful Morgan and shouldered open the swinging door that led to the kitchen and offices, he knew he was making a damned mistake.
It might even be the biggest mistake of his life.
chapter 6
this was what she got for being honest, Sheila thought as she allowed Casey to pull her into one of the small offices. This was what she got for trying to lay to rest the doubts that filled her own mind, and to get whatever relationship they had on an equal footing.
He was pissed.
She could feel that anger vibrating through his body and threatening his control.
She didn’t know whether to be frightened or turned on, because she had never seen Casey like this. She had never seen him so angry that his eyes glowed like burning chocolate, backlit with a tobacco flame.
She had a glimpse of those eyes as he swung her around at the desk, placed his hands on both sides of her, and leaned into her until they were nose to nose.
“Do I look like a fucking man whore to you?” he snarled into her face, causing her to flinch with the rage in his voice. “Do I look like someone who would fuck a woman to gain anything other than both their damned pleasure?”
His words seemed to pierce a part of her that instantly latched on to the end of his statement.
“Their pleasure,” he said. As though it was a lover’s pleasure and satisfaction that caused his own.
“Casey, I never meant—” She hadn’t meant it to sound that way.
But the rest of the words were cut off.
“The fucking hell you didn’t.” His nose was touching hers.
His eyes were so dark they were nearly black, body heat pouring from him in waves as rage seemed to burn through his system. “That’s exactly what you meant, Sheila. Was I a fucking man whore willing to climb between your legs for a favor from you where your damned father is concerned? Do you want to know what I think of any favors your father could fucking give me? Do you, Sheila?” he all but yelled in her face.
“Not really.” Weak, more submissive than she liked, her voice trembled as her gaze held his.
Not in fear, but in a variety of other emotions. Emotions she wasn’t certain she knew how to adapt to.
She only wished her response to this new, volcanic Casey was fear. Fear would have been easier to handle. It would have been far easier to understand than the other emotions she felt.
Especially the lust. The hunger.
The angrier he became, the more she wanted him.
She could feel her nipples hardening and tightening, growing more sensitive by the second as he glared into her eyes.
“Not really?” he snarled back at her. “Maybe I want to tell you anyway. Just for the fucking hell of it.”
“If you feel you have to.” She shrugged, almost catching her breath at the feel of her nipples raking against the material of her bra.
And she wasn’t the only one who felt the lust. Amid his anger, that hunger was there as well. The feel of his erection pressing wide and hard against her belly assured her of that. He wanted her just as fiercely as he wanted to rage at her.
“Then tell me, Casey,” she retorted, albeit breathlessly.
Her clit was aching with a swollen intensity she didn’t know if she could bear much longer. In turn, she could feel the clench and flushed arousal tightening her pussy as well as the heated, slick warmth easing through it.
Had she ever been this aroused by him?
She was certain she had never been this aroused in her life. For him or any other man. For anything or at any time.
His eyes were still blazing with fury, his expression twisted with it when she lifted her leg and let it slide up the outside of his.
The silk of her skirt slid back along her thighs, the rasp of his jeans against her sensitive inner thigh had her breath catching.
His gaze jerked down, locked on the pale flesh as her skirt slid back.
When his eyes came back to her, that rage was diluted, the smallest bit, with another fire. One of hunger and of lust.
“There’s not nothing, not a single friggin’ thing your father has that I want with the exception of his stubborn, wayward, completely intractable daughter.”
“Completely intractable?” Her hands pushed beneath the soft cotton of his shirt and touched the iron-hard abs beneath.
With just her nails, she stroked up his abdomen, being certain to find the flat, hard points of his male nipples.
His fingers wrapped immediately around her wrists, holding her in place.
“What the hell are you up to?”
Had she ever made the first move when it came to their sexual encounters? Casey knew she hadn’t. She’d always left that first step to him.
Until tonight.
Until this confrontation.
And now, she was simply hotter than hell. Hot enough to burn through his senses and make him almost, almost, forget the anger surging through him.
It was his pride. That sheer male core of the man that she had stabbed that dagger into. To dare to suggest that he wanted more than the woman he was holding in his arms was more than
How could anything she or her father possessed or had access to be more important?
“I could get up to many things,” she whispered. “But at the moment, I’m more interested in what you’re up to.”
Her hips tilted upward, causing her lower stomach to press and rub against the erection barely contained by his jeans.
Releasing her wrists he allowed one hand to slide along her arm until he reached her underarm. From there, his hand skimmed down her side, to her lifted leg. Curving his fingers beneath her thigh, he reached around until he could rub the silk of her panties against her sensitive pussy.
There, he found her hot and wet, the juices of her pussy dampening her panties as he rubbed against the sensitive bare lips beneath the material.
Her head tilted back. Dark, violet eyes became drowsy, heavy-lidded as her hand smoothed back down his abs to the heavy arousal beneath his jeans.
“You make me want to bite nails.” His tone was between a growl and a hungry groan. A sound he had never made before with a woman he couldn’t stop wanting, no matter how often he had her.
“Is that what you want to do?” she asked softly, her fingers curving around the hard shaft pounding beneath them.
“That, among other things.” Narrowing his eyes, he watched her closely, wondering how far she would go.
It was the first time she had made the first move; was she willing to continue that path? At least, for as long as he could allow it.
He was all for Sheila making her mark on him. Hell, there were nights he dreamed of it, fantasized about it.
Then, her hand slid away as disappointment began to tighten his body. But only as long as it took for him to realize those slender, delicate hands were gripping the hem of her camisole top and slowly easing it upward until she drew it over her head.
His breath caught, then he completely lost the ability to breathe as the sheer lace of her bra revealed the spiked, dark pink of her nipples as they begged so prettily for attention.
They were pert and eager for his touch, and he couldn’t resist lifting his hands and framing the generous mounds that cushioned the candied perfection.
Raking his thumbs over them, he watched as her breathing roughened, a flush rushed across her face, and the drowsy sensuality in her expression increased.
Busy, industrious, and determined, her fingers hadn’t forgotten their task, either.
They loosened his belt, sliding one end free of the other before they moved to each of the metal buttons. They slipped free easily, the heavy denim parting to reveal the engorged, iron-hard length of his cock.
His teeth clenched as her fingers, cool and slender, inquisitive and filled with eager pleasure, wrapped partially around the shaft and began to caress it.
“Fuck. Sheila, love, I don’t know if I can stand this for long.”
“Ah, poor baby,” she whispered as his lips moved over hers, then brushed over them.
“I bet you think this is all the courage I have in me, too.” She was laughing. Casey could hear the amusement in her voice and it only spurred his determination that tonight, in this office, he would damned well own her when they were finished.
He was sick of this damned cat-and-mouse game they kept playing. Sick of chasing after her, knowing damned good and well she wanted him clear to her soul, and yet she still refused to admit it.
“You belong to me.” It was a warning, and one he hoped she took seriously.
But as he made the claim, he made certain she couldn’t fight against it too hard.
As the words slipped from his lips, he slid two fingers past the elastic leg of her panties and speared into the slick, heated depths of her pussy.
A cry tore from her lips as her back arched and her head fell back weakly.
Pleasure suffused her expression, tightened her nipples further, and sent a rush of juices flowing over his fingers.
Soft, slick; he knew the taste of it, and ached for it.
He could spread her out, right there on his desk, and taste her as he craved.
But Sheila had other plans.
Surprise raced through him once again as one small hand speared into his hair, her fingers gripping the strands and pulling until his lips met hers.
And there, control became only a distant memory.
He had heard kisses described as many great and varied things over the years, but no description could come close to the sweet nectar and sensual spice that filled his senses as her lips parted beneath his.
As though starving for feminine touch, addicted and hopelessly lost to it, Casey felt his senses focus on it entirely. Her kiss, her tongue stroking back against his as he devoured her.
She devoured him in return.
The fingers of one hand tightened even more in his hair as the other stroked and caressed the violently sensitive head of his dick. He could feel himself beginning to break apart for her. His balls were tightening, the head of his cock thickening further, throbbing in an impending release when she suddenly stopped.
His head jerked back, his eyes opening, lips parting to demand an explanation when his gaze moved down again and he watched those lush, hungry lips descend to his stomach.
Like silk against roughened iron, her lips parted, and her tongue licked out to allow herself a taste. Running down the tightening muscles, Casey could only watch, suspended in disbelief at the incredibly erotic sight of Sheila going down on him.
Without urging, without that desperation on his part, or that first moment of shyness or uncertainty on hers, she was taking what she considered hers.
Her lips covered the broad, engorged head of his cock. Curious and destructive, her tongue licked over it, learning his dick as though it were the first time for her and she wanted nothing more than to experience each sensation, each stroke of pleasure.
She was taking every part of him and loving every damned minute of it.
The furiously pounding crest was tucked against the roof of her mouth, her tongue moving against that sensitive spot just beneath the head.
A moan of feminine pleasure vibrated against the hard crest as heat began to burn his already overloaded senses. Delicate fingers moved between his thighs as one hand tugged at his jeans. He helped her push the denim down his legs, so fucking eager for her touch he would have torn them off if he needed to.
Anything to feel her palming the tight, tortured sack of his balls as his thighs tightened with the need to come. He could feel his seed beginning to heat, to boil through his system. There was no way to hold it back. There was no way to hold on to his control.
His fingers tightened in her hair, his attempt to pull her back impossible to complete. He was holding her to him instead. Staring down, watching as he fucked her swollen lips and watching her eyes darken with anticipation.
Her cheeks hollowed. Her mouth worked him with burning sensuality.
Ah God. Not yet. If he came now there wasn’t a chance in hell he’d have the control to touch and taste her as well. To drive her as insane, make her as desperate for him as he was becoming for her.
And there was only one way to stop her. Only one way to ensure that his satisfaction wasn’t the only one attained.
A second before it was too late, just as his balls gave that final convulsive squeeze and sent his release spurting between her lips, Casey pulled back.
In a single move he had his dick out of her mouth, bent, gripped her arms, and pulled her to her feet before laying her back on the desk.
The soft material of the skirt fell back along her thighs as he pushed his hands beneath, gripped the elastic of her panties, and tore them from her slender body.
In the next heartbeat, he had his head buried between her legs, his lips circling her clit, his tongue tasting the soft spice and feminine pleasure that welled from her.
There was no time for seduction, no control left to tease. There was only the hunger for her and the need to taste her sweet release spilling to his lips.
&
Pushing his tongue deep inside the tight depths of her pussy as her fingers moved to his hair, Casey licked and probed at the sweetness. Fucking her with his tongue, his body clenching, need raging inside him as she writhed beneath him.
Sheila fought to breathe through the wild, chaotic pleasure beginning to zip through her.
She couldn’t help clenching her thighs, her legs lifting, gripping his shoulders as a cry escaped her lips. She couldn’t fight against it. She didn’t want to fight against it. She just wanted to feel him against her, over every inch of her body.
Inside her—
A harsh, unbidden moan passed her lips as his tongue thrust inside the clenched, snug depths of her pussy again. The rasp of his tongue against the sensitive nerve endings sent her spiraling closer to release. Spasms of sensation shot to her womb, drawing it tight as she arched and felt the warning tremors of her orgasm as they began to vibrate inside her.
So close. She was so close to coming, the need for it pounded painfully in her clit and the tormented depths of her pussy.
She was burning out of control.
Her hands clenched in his hair to hold him closer. Her hips lifted further, desperate to force his tongue deeper inside her. To increase the strokes, to make him fuck her deeper, to give her that last teasing thrust that would propel her over the edge.
And she was so close. So very close … when he pulled back.
chapter 7
“casey, don’t stop.” Sheila reached desperately for him, confused, aching with a sensual hunger that went so deep she knew it went far beyond the physical.
“I want to feel you coming on my dick, not my tongue,” he groaned, as he gripped the heavy shaft and tucked it between the swollen folds of her sex.
Flames, sharp and intense, shot through her pussy, then the rest of her body as the electrical sensations continued to build between them.
Gripping her hips with his hands, his gaze locked with hers, Casey began to move, slowly at first, stretching her, working his way inside her. The heated burn of the penetration had her gasping, fighting for breath as pleasure began to build inside her with a strength she hadn’t experienced with Casey so far.