Blackmailed into the Billionaire's Bed(7)
She spoke again, more softly this time. “Good, I’m glad.” Then belatedly added in an even more overtly sexual voice, “I aim to please, sir.”
I hope you do, Ms. Van Heusen.
Just the simple way she connected with him at this most intimate level turned him on. He’d always been the same. In his world, it was the smallest things a woman did that made the biggest impact—a look, a touch, a gesture.
His cock was hard again for the third time in barely thirty minutes, and he hoped she didn’t notice. Such was the gathering sexual tension between them that he longed to say, “Stand up, honey.” In his imagination, which was starting to run out of control, she obeyed immediately. “Yes, Mr. Buchanan. Of course, sir.” She’d then hold him in her gaze and seductively purr, “Is there anything else I can do for you?”
“Just stand there and look beautiful.”
“As you wish, sir.” Then he’d take his fill of her awe-inspiring beauty before slowly slipping that dull knee-length skirt to her ankles, only to find that she wore absolutely nothing underneath. “Mmm. Ms. Van Heusen. Your boss is impressed.” Then he visualized himself dropping to his knees, before kissing her creamy butt cheeks like a man possessed. Wanting more, he’d then bury his nose between those perfectly formed globes and breathe in her feminine scent. Without asking for, or even needing her permission, he’d then turn her around and push her back against the boardroom table. Then he’d spread her thighs wide before hungrily eating out her silky smooth pussy, which would taste deliciously of her feminine arousal.
Jesus wept. Get a hold, man.
He needed to quit thinking this way, because he saw those china-blue eyes dip to his crotch. Shit. His hard-on was too well advanced to hide, and her eyes abruptly returned to his face. She didn’t fool him for a moment though, because her beautiful translucent skin was now tinged with a knowing blush.
Kendall gave a little cough, and he knew she’d seen his erection, but then quite unexpectedly, she looked directly into his eyes and gave him a smile full of adult intent. Things were looking up in more ways than one, because he knew without doubt that his stunning new employee was far more aroused than embarrassed.
Mac would definitely take this further, because the signals she now transmitted with such intensity made him believe that Kendall Van Heusen was more than willing to come along for the ride.
Chapter Three
One week later
Lying submerged in a bath full of aromatic bubbles, with only her head breaking the surface, Kendall felt supremely relaxed. With her eyes closed, her left hand hung decadently over the side of the tub. She didn’t give a damn that scented water dripped from her fingers onto the tiled floor, because right now, her pulse rate was about ten.
Oh, bliss.
Power showers were a wonderful invention, and great for the invigoration necessary to start the day, but for the ultimate in relaxation, a leisurely soak in the tub just couldn’t be beaten. With her eyes still closed, she took hold of the soapy sponge and squeezed it, allowing the fragrant water to cascade over her face and body.
Heaven.
Exactly a week ago today, Mac had asked her to stay behind after the boardroom meeting. It had been a baptism of fire for her, and as events had unfolded that morning, they’d taken her by surprise. She didn’t like to think of herself as being spiteful or, worse still, vengeful, but she had to admit, the way he’d dominated that sanctimonious prick, Mark Springer, turned her on. The loudmouthed bigot deserved everything he got, because before her boss had entered the room, he’d treated her in a wholly disrespectful and dismissive manner. Chauvinist pig.
Kendall idly squeezed the sponge again, this time allowing the warm soapy water to trickle over her breasts, stimulating her nipples, which had always been incredibly sensitive. She still felt sexy as hell, even though she’d masturbated in the tub already. Did she feel guilty about pleasuring herself in such a wanton way? Absolutely not and why the hell should she? After all, she was a twenty-first-century woman, without any of the repressive hang-ups of a bygone age. Indeed, sexual thoughts of her gorgeous new boss had made wonderful mental imagery. As she’d pleasured her clit with teasing circular movements, visions of his huge cock pounding relentlessly inside her had been her stimulus, until she’d joyously climaxed not once, but repeatedly. It was lucky the walls to her apartment were well insulated, because in the throes of ecstasy, she’d been vocal to say the least. Anyway, enough of this blatant self-indulgence, because tonight he’d invited her out to dinner, at Le Bernardin, generally acknowledged as one of the finest restaurants in New York, if not America.