“You okay now?” he asked breathlessly as he studied her face again and she leaned up to kiss him on his mouth, which was softer than she would have expected given all the hardness of him elsewhere.
Taking that as her answer apparently, he pulled out almost to the tip of his long cock and then thrust in again, slowly, and then again, with more purpose, beginning a relentless flexing of his hips toward a goal that happily brought her along for the ride.
God, it felt so good to be underneath him. Sharp bursts of pleasure shot through her with his every lunge and her fingertips wound in his hair as they kissed, his hands firmly underneath her, tilting her up to take each inch of him. Despite his obvious need, his obvious desire, he was gentle with her, or gentler than she had ever experienced. His grip of her bottom was caressing, not bruising, and his kiss exploratory, coaxing not conquering. But as gentle as he was being, he was still taking her, definitely incredibly possessing her, and it wasn’t long before they were sweaty, their bodies moving against one another in some mesmerizing rhythm.
It could have lasted a half an hour or it could have lasted two minutes. Time had lost all context for her.
When he ground his hips into her one last time, she watched as he came, arching his neck back with a deep, satisfied groan, and she came too, but quietly, no audible corollary to his climax other than a quick intake of breath. Collapsing on top of her at first, he then rolled over before getting up from the bed and pulled the condom off, tossing it in the wastebasket. He turned back to her. “Do you come?”
She sat up slowly. “What?”
“Do you come or do you not want me to even try?”
She shook her head. “I did come,” she said softly.
“Well, I’ll pay more attention next time. I promise.” He grinned, looking boyish and relaxed. “Don’t worry. I like to make a woman come. You’ll enjoy it next time.”
She reached for her dress and stepped into it. “I enjoyed it this time,” she said, and unbelievably, it was true.
When she tried to retrieve her panties, he snatched them away. “I’ll keep these, if you don’t mind.”
He pulled his chinos on and stuffed the panties into one pocket, grabbing the condoms as well. They walked down the staircase, hand in hand, until reality intruded at the sight of her boss at the bottom of the stairway and she pulled away. Evan glanced over at her and she could feel herself blushing.
“Hey, Evan.”
He turned at his brother’s voice. “Hi, Michael. I didn’t know you were here already.”
“Yes. I’m staying over. Hello, Miss Prentiss. Do you have those papers for me?”
“Yes, Mr. Reynolds. I was just looking for you.”
Sort of.
“They’re here in my purse.” She crossed to the hallway table and pulled out a folded set of papers from the purse she’d uncharacteristically been negligent enough to leave behind when Evan dragged her upstairs. She handed the papers to her boss along with a pen, and he spread them out on the table and started to sign, saying, without looking up, “Did you meet my assistant, Evan? I don’t think you’ve ever been to the office, have you?”
He finished signing and handed the papers back to her as she could see Evan putting the pieces together.
“I emailed you the file you requested as well, concerning the gentleman on the rig. It’s in your inbox.”
“Good. That’ll be all, Miss Prentiss. Thank you for coming all the way out here.”
She smiled. “My pleasure, Mr. Reynolds.” But she was looking straight at Evan—now he was the one who was blushing.
And she felt better than she had in a long, long time.
* * * * *
Evan Reynolds had been trying to get the tall brunette alone since he’d gotten to the hospital. Now that they all knew his brother Michael would be all right, he had a thing or two to say to Michael’s secretary, who was cool and put together once again, this time in a camel-colored skirt and plain tan sweater, her hair in that same tidy chignon.
He finally caught her by herself near the candy machine, out of the way of the rest of his family.
“Remember me?”
She looked up, the big blue eyes wide and innocent. “Certainly, Mr. Reynolds.”
“Don’t you ‘Mr. Reynolds’ me. What was that all about?”
“What was what all about?”
“At my father’s party. You…we…”
“We had sex, Mr. Reynolds.” She laughed. “My, I certainly never thought I’d say that.”
“God, I hope not. You’re not Michael’s, are you? Because from what I can see of that Vanny, she’ll give you a fight to the death on that one.” He didn’t really think it but he couldn’t stop himself from saying it, if only to insult her.