Her heart flew into her throat at the sound of Ian locking his office door. Nerves forced her to catalog every detail. The cherry wood desk had neat little stacks of office supplies, a closed laptop sat in the middle. A behemoth armless leather chair guarded a corner in the office and next to it a small table. To her surprise, decent copies of his degrees lined the wall above the file cabinets. Outside of those personal touches, there was nothing of him in the office. Just like his apartment.
She would have asked an asinine question to fill the silence, but then his hands wrapped around her waist. He pressed his lips to her neck and began to unbutton her suit jacket, then shirt.
“We're going to play the quiet game,” he said and didn't sound like himself at all. He sounded gruff and half-mad, which spurred him to drag her in here with him.
She must have been too, because she said, “The first to moan loses.”
Ian's fingers curled into the demi-cup as he pulled her bra down for better access. She bit back the gasp when his fingernails grazed her nipples. Heat. So much heat built inside her and her skin tingled wherever his lips touched. No way in hell would she win. With one hand he massaged her breasts, back and forth, caress, squeeze, titillate. The other hand lifted her skirt and slid into her panties.
Ian cursed. The only word he uttered before plunging his finger into her and clamping his mouth onto her neck just the way she liked it. Jocelyn lifted her arms, grabbed two handfuls of his hair and held on because this was insanity. And the moan was right there, building in her chest but she didn't make a sound. She had to remember this was a game or she just might lose it.
Suddenly, he pulled back, lifted her and dragged them to the chair. He didn't give her time to turn around to face him. They fell into it, but already Ian had bunched her skirt around her waist and spread his legs. His breathing was unsteady, a heated reminder against her neck. He loosened the hold on her waist and she turned to get a glimpse of him. Her stomach tightened with need at the sight. This wasn't the same man who always had control. A flush had risen to his cheeks and though his brows were furrowed, there was an untamed intensity about him.
Ian shifted and pulled out his wallet. There was Sadie again. After a little more rummaging, he took out a condom and placed it on the table beside them.
His gaze lifted to hers again and she expected him to smile, to soften the moment. She'd expected him to look at her with anything other than the tortured expression he wore. She held her breath, waiting for him to say something to ease the tension. This was too much for what they should be. But, he didn't. His blue-gray gaze drunk her in.
It was then she became fully aware he was dressed while her clothes were in disarray. Jocelyn shucked off her coat and shirt, but left the skirt and bra. She stood to slide out the underwear, and he ran his hands up her legs, tangling with her fingers on her legs. The simple touch started a fire deep in her chest.
He continued to help her step out of the thin satin, but kissed the bared skin along the way. His warm mouth ignited the passion further. When the silky material lay on the floor with her jacket and shirt, he kept right on kissing his way back up while he unbuckled his pants.
“Bend over,” he whispered over the curve of her ass.
She did, exposing herself to his mouth and he showed his appreciation. Both hands splayed on her ass cheeks, he spread her more, and kissed her sex deeply. She bit down on her lip to keep in the moan.
Ian took his hands away and let his mouth do most of the work of bringing her to the edge. He licked and suckled her right there and if she breathed any harder, she'd pass out from hyperventilation. Blood rushed to her head anyway from the bent over position she was in. She felt dizzy. Her legs trembled as she tried to keep still. She didn't want to miss one lick or suck. Jocelyn had to reach back to steady herself and found his legs bare, too. When had he taken his pants off? How?
Who cared, because, oh, gawd. She was going to come and the moan she held back would leak out. “I can't,” she said.
His only reply was to lick her slowly from her clit to her aching entrance. She gasped because he kept going right over the tight rim of her ass. The sensation didn't have the same intensity of his mouth on her clit, but it felt good, made her pussy clench from need. She yearned for a fantasy she'd never thought to imagine. It made her feel wanton and just shy of kinky.
She moaned.
He tore his mouth away and she moaned again this time in frustration. He grunted deeply and she looked back to see what made him stop. His hand was fisted around the head of his cock. Had he been stroking himself? Another moan escaped, because she wanted to see him do that, too.
“Ian?”
“On it,” he growled in answer. He snatched up the condom, slid it on and wrenched her down on top of him. Pussy lubricated from his mouth and her arousal, she took in his cock with ease. Another moan slipped out as he spread his legs wider, spreading hers too in the process, and she sank down lower.
“We've got to be quiet or we'll be caught.”
She clenched, aroused at the thought, but fear still pumped in her heart too.
“Like that, do you?” He cursed, lifted her up by the waist and slammed her back down. Again and again.
With hotly, whispered words he weaved a naughty fantasy of someone hearing them, listening and getting off. Even with that, she contained her moans and that only seemed to turn her on more. And the intensity of holding back such a simple urge gripped her, flushed her skin and tightened its hold until she shuddered from the strength of it. Ian grasped her waist and pumped faster into her. When she came, hard, he clamped down onto her neck with his teeth. The blinding pleasure drowned out any pain the bite may have caused. He shuddered too, but didn't make a sound. One clipped moan managed to get away from her.
For a while all they did was breathe heavily. Finally, she looked down and saw his pants tangled around one foot, but he still wore his shoes and dress socks. His fingers were gripped around her bunched up skirt and she'd lost a heel at some point.
A laugh bubbled up and then spilled out when Jocelyn couldn't stop it. “I wish I could have a picture of this moment.”
He snorted and the release of air ruffled the hair at the nape of her neck. “Aye. Something to remember us by.”
She thought about that. He had rules about having sex with coworkers. A rule didn't become one because you never tried it. “Have you ever...done this at work?”
“No,” he said softly.
Her mind tried to go down all sorts of serious and relationship-like paths with him, but...he'd—they'd both been a little swept away in the moment. They'd both done something they'd never normally do with each other. Didn't mean a damn thing. She let it go. Had to.
“Well, now we have to go back to work rumpled.” She laughed again, forced it out this time. “I won't be able to look you in the eye, but at least make sure I've got all my buttons straight.”
Jocelyn adjusted her bra first. He placed a kiss on her shoulder blade. She stilled at the intimate touch post-sex.
“You're going to give us away with your nervous giggling.” He sounded amused.
She tried to relax but couldn't. There was nowhere to run. They were at work, not his apartment. No time for a cooling off period where she could distance herself from what they'd done, and then he'd gone and kissed her shoulder.
“You started it.” To her surprise none of the conflicting emotions showed in her voice. “Let this be an understanding. Do not look at me like that at work. There'll be consequences.”
“But you lost the game first,” he said, voice still husky. “More than once, actually. I'll be collecting my prize later.”
This time the word came easier. “No. Not tonight. I've got to attack my bucket list that's outside of the bedroom.”
“I have been monopolizing your time, but I will collect. Don't doubt it.”
There was nothing in his tone that sounded like he cared one way or the other, which was good. The expert in this wasn't wavering. So, she'd take the cues from him. Rising, she put herself back together. By the time she faced him again, he didn't look too bad. His hair was a mess from her fingers. Since she refused to let herself touch him when it wasn't about to lead to more, she pointed it out.
A crooked smile graced his handsome face and he roughly finger combed his hair. “Next time, be gentle with me, Lass. I'm fragile.”
She took the ease and ignored the discomfort. “I know. Poor Scot, getting ravished during work hours by an American.”
His smile widened. “You've ruined me.”
No way in hell she had, but, that, Jocelyn didn't point out.
*****
The ritual began and it was barely twenty 'til five, Ian noted. Jocelyn shook out of her suit jacket and placed it haphazardly on the floor. She checked her purse at least twice for her car keys—an item she grabbed out of her office thirty minutes before, and she had kept a good eye on the red leather. Her ordinary end-of-work ticks.
In and out her feet crept out of the shoes whenever she stood still. She didn't stand still long in between the final follow ups with security. More than five displays were up in the show room. One hundred feet wide and long, the room was cordoned off to patrons but still a security risk for the priceless items. Not once she did waver from her professionalism throughout the day despite what had happened in his office. It seemed to Ian she held it closer than usual.
He hadn't meant to incite an incident between them. Couldn't even say what word or movement began the downward spiral of need and want for her. But the need for her made him lose his head. Screwing at work? What the hell had he been thinking? There was a guarantee of sex in the very near future, but still he couldn't wait.
He only knew something shifted inside him around the time he mentioned the married couples he knew. A collection of friends and colleagues he'd known over the years. They always welcomed him when he dropped by for a visit. It always amazed him how their lives changed so much in such a short amount of time. Most were in his field. They'd traveled. A lot. They stopped when shot between the eyes with love.
Whenever he had a bit much to drink and was feeling dreary, Ian had the occasional daft urge to follow in their footsteps. Brain swimming in drink, he'd think maybe after he finished breaking his neck to get the exhibition around the world, build up his rep, he could let a woman shoot him between the eyes and make him want the madness. An unlikely affair though, no woman ever looked at him with love.
But, aye, the need and want shifted at the mention of marriage, heightened when sadness crept into Joce's usually bright and teasing gaze. He simply didn't question the primitive awakening and blindly sought out a way to get her naked and trembling. All that with one glance from her.
Troubling, to say the least.
Jocelyn's mobile rang and she lunged for her phone in the purse. Answering it, she paced a few feet away. Only hearing one side of the conversation deepened Ian's scowl and his fingers fumbled over the buttons of the replica dress.
“I'll be there in thirty minutes...”
“Just hold on until I get there...”
“Yeah. Absolutely can't wait. So excited...”
“Well,” she laughed, “I guess I'll owe you one then.”
Who was she flirting with? Jocelyn hadn't said what she'd be doing after work. Not that he cared. They weren't in a relationship. Leaving faster than the speed of light after their every session was more than fine with him. But—no doubt there was a man on the end of the line. And she was excited? To fucking do what?
He continued buttoning the million useless buttons in the front of the dress. But...his mind thought of all the things they'd done. Her enthusiasm made up for any inexperience she might have had. She joked about him ruining her for all other nice men. And he'd joked back that it was he who was ruined. Somewhat the truth. He wasn't anywhere near close to being done with her.
He tried to straighten up their work area and not think about how she sounded talking on the mobile or how she'd turned her back to take the call. Ian shouldn't give a shit, but he wasn't done.
Aye, he was worried a little that he may never be done, but nonetheless, things would end when he left. He enjoyed his affairs, but didn't linger or leave anyone waiting for him. It was unkind leaving someone waiting, hoping you'd come back. Even worse to hear through the grapevine you'd moved on.
Ian severed his affairs, not coldly, but in a finite way where there was no left over hopes he'd change his mind. He'd do it again with her. Had to. Not like she'd roll out the welcome mat and ask him to stay. He was a number on her bucket list. One he willingly volunteered for, because that's what he was good at—fucking. He'd made that clear to her from the outset of this affair. Why get mad at her now for sticking to their agreement?
He glared into the lifeless eyes of the mannequin.
Jocelyn ended the call and despite his better judgment, Ian turned around to see her face. Flushed. Sodding bastard. He'd already done too much by looking at her, letting her know he'd been listening. It showed he cared what she was doing instead of coming to his flat. So, he wouldn't ask.
Her teeth worried her lip as she put the mobile away. “Being impulsive is on my bucket list. Apparently.”
Not a word. Not one fucking word, but he raised his brows. If she was going to continue, Ian wouldn't stop her, but he wouldn't ask.
Her feet slipped in and out of her shoes. “I'm going to see a man about a dog.”
“Ah,” he said and frowned. “In a literal sense?”
“Yes, checked Craigslist.”
“What?” Ian said sharper than he intended.
“Adopting would take forever,” she rambled on. “If I passed muster, and I really want a puppy. Now.”
“And what'd you do for a sitter while at work?”
“Sister. Already called her during my lunch.”
The muscles in his shoulders still felt tight. “You're going to a man's house. Alone? A stranger? Who posted pics of cute puppies?”
She sighed. “He's not a masher.”
“How do you know?”
She smiled. “Saying he sounded nice and sane won't change the expression on your face, will it?”
Was the woman crazed? Was he? Ian felt like he was. “I can't let you go there by yourself. Do you even know what a dog needs?”
“Figured I'd ask the people at the store.” She paused. “Are you angling for an invite, Ian?”
“No,” he said without thought but then his mind started to work overtime.
Jocelyn was very much a grown woman who could make decisions on her own. Smart enough to do research and glean from that what she needed to design an exhibit and capture breathtaking moments in history. Clever enough to leave his flat before he was forced to ask her to. From what he picked up on, she had many relationships before him, but maybe only one major encounter that spurred her need for a bucket list. If the man hadn't put that haunted look in her eyes, Ian would have thanked him.
She could take care of herself, but he didn't like the idea of her meeting someone from Craigslist alone. They weren't in a relationship. They were having sex. They were coworkers. Didn't mean he'd want to see her hurt. What exactly did he have to do after work since she wasn't coming over? Nothing.
He was on her bucket list and going with her would be no different. “I'm coming.”
“I should be annoyed you invited yourself.” She blew out a breath and considered him without deeper meaning, but with general affection. “But I want someone to come with me now that you've made me doubt my decision about going alone.”
How would he know, anyway, if she looked at him with something other than general affection? That much was good enough for him. Ian breathed easier. This wasn't a big deal. No need to give in to the niggling feeling that there was more to it.