Holding on Tighter

  flesh.

  Desire seared him as he bent his head and inhaled her scent with a groan.

  Everything about her dazzled and thrilled him. Other people would argue that she wasn’t perfect. She could be every bit as aggressive as any of her male counterparts. She had a temper, a ruthless streak, a desire to control everything. Yet she cared, she listened, and she was often honest even when it hurt her. She had a heady sort of feminine lure Heath had never experienced.

  Gripping her thighs, he sank between them, braced over her as he pierced her folds with his tongue and raked his way up her wet slit. He lapped at her, focused on the little bud at the apex before he sucked it between his lips and drew it deep.

  As he tasted her, his heart thrummed in his chest with a wild cant. Her flavor was so exquisitely sweet and tart and addicting as she melted around him. She responded artlessly, groaning as she threw her head back with a long, low wail.

  Everything about her intoxicated him. He bloody loved this intimacy, the potent thrill of owning her. Vaguely, he wondered how he’d resist wanting to taste her every time he saw her.

  When she spread wider and gripped his head with grasping fingers, another hoarse cry fell from her lips. “Heath!”

  The rest of the office could probably hear them, but he wasn’t about to quiet her or stop the glide of his tongue through her flesh. The urge to consume her utterly fired his blood.

  He pulled her vulva apart with his thumbs to expose her, open her to him totally. Then he slid a pair of fingers into her opening, already swelling in pleasure. She clenched around him, clamping down tight as she bucked her hips in demand, disturbing the rhythm of his tongue. With his free hand, he held her down to the table.

  “Stop thrashing. You can’t control this orgasm. It’s not for you to take. It’s mine to give you.”

  “Then give it to me now.” Her voice sounded like something between a whimper and a demand.

  Perhaps he should remind her that he was in charge in the bedroom, but that would require him to stop exploring her succulent heat with his mouth again and have a conversation in which she’d merely argue. Or try insisting again that he hurry this pleasure along.

  Talking was overrated.

  “Once you hold still, I will,” he murmured the silky vow across her skin. “If you do, I’ll fuck you with my fingers and my tongue. I’ll wring orgasms out of you until you’re deliciously sore and sated. I’ll work my cock inside your pussy, which I know will be snug and hot and perfect. I’ll ride you until you can’t scream anymore.”

  Almost instantly, Jolie stilled. Her body trembled in anticipation. Her eyes pleaded in a way her words simply didn’t.

  Heath smiled. Now he had her.

  Gliding his fingers in and out of her tight walls, he lowered his mouth to her clit again, nudging, teasing, the slow drag making her breath shudder and her skin flush. Her fingers found their way to his head again as she tried to grip his too-short hair. Her nails dragged against his scalp with a little bite of pain that urged him on. He shuddered against the dizzying rise of need.

  Around him, he could feel the swelling of her folds, the clenching of her cunt. She panted, made other sounds he barely recognized, welcomed him by opening even wider.

  God, when had any woman ever been half so alluring?

  Tasting a female was an intimacy he hadn’t indulged in for years. It required not only time, a bed, and some privacy, but it implied a deeper connection than mere fucking. It meant that a woman had to share every bit of her body in a way that left her vulnerable. Since Anna, he hadn’t sought anything but no-strings sex.

  Jolie changed everything. Whatever the reason, whatever her lure, he couldn’t seem to get enough of her.

  “Oh, love. You’re tangy and sweet on my tongue.” He twisted his fingers in her opening and found a sensitive spot, then rubbed it ruthlessly. “I’m going to want this again. I’m going to crave you. We’ll spend our lunches with my head between your legs. I’ll need you again with evening cocktails. And dessert.” He lapped at her again. “Especially dessert.”

  “That’s too much, too c-crazy. Y-you can’t . . .”

  Since she couldn’t speak without stuttering or losing her train of thought, Heath knew he could have her however he wanted her now. She would let him.

  He smiled and dragged his tongue through her essence again. “Never tell me I can’t. I’ll prove you wrong. Over and over. You’re going to come, aren’t you?”

  She whimpered and nodded frantically. “I . . . Oh, my god. I can’t stop it.”

  “Let’s have it. I want it. I want all of you.”

  “That’s it. Yes!” She dragged in a huge gulp of air. A glance up the beautiful curves of her body proved her nipples tight, her lips parted, her dilated green eyes focused on him and widening with every uptick in pleasure. Then sensual shock splashed across her delicate face. “Heath!”

  Her entire body convulsed with the force of her ecstasy, legs shaking, hips bucking, back arching, lungs working.

  He looked up her body. She was positively stunning, and Heath only wanted her more as he ate at her like a starving man. He was determined to guide her into the sugary haze of aftermath so she’d be damn pliant when he impaled her and fucked her with abandon.

  Jolie tried to close her legs, as if she’d suddenly decided to be embarrassed that she’d climaxed nearly hard enough to shake the walls. Heath refused to allow her that misplaced modesty now. He pushed against her tensed thighs and continued to lick, suck, and nibble, groaning when she somehow turned sweeter, diving in deeper when she softened and became accepting beneath him again. Ravenous when her breath became uneven and the little moans filled his ears. Harder than hell when she swelled with need once more and he realized just how bloody tight she would be.

  Jerking away, he stood and fumbled through his pockets until he found a foil square—the last he had tucked away.

  Fuck, he hoped once was enough to satisfy this craving. Since he was with Jolie, he had his doubts.

  His movements were a blur and he blocked out her whimpering protests until he’d sheathed his cock and held himself at her opening. Then he shoved his way in with one savage thrust.

  Jolie twisted her back and cried out in an impatient roar. “Yes . . . Fuck me.”

  Oh, he would do far more than that. And if she wasn’t ready to admit that whatever they had went beyond mere sex, that was all right. He’d only just realized it himself. Being with her again, inside her, was undeniable proof. The rightness of her lit up his body, rolled down his spine in an electric shudder. He suspected Jolie also knew what they shared wasn’t meaningless. But he’d be patient . . . for now.

  Leaning over her, he balanced his forehead on hers. She exhaled against his lips, then she breathed in. Heath kissed her, letting her taste the passion he’d wrung from her. She didn’t fight, so he grabbed her hair, changed the angle of the kiss to dive deep, and pressed his hips forward until she took every last inch of his cock.

  He didn’t move his body then, just filled her mouth, her pussy, her senses. It wasn’t long before she wrapped her legs around his middle and arched restlessly, as if she needed everything he could give her.

  He lifted his lips, narrowed his eyes at her. “You keep trying to control the way I fuck you, Jolie. Stop. It won’t happen.”

  “Why are you teasing me? What are you waiting for?”

  “Didn’t you learn anything when I had my mouth on you? Didn’t it feel better when you finally let me send you to climax? It wouldn’t have been half so good if you’d taken it when you wanted it.”

  Jolie stared at him as if understanding that he had answers to questions she’d never thought to ask. “I know. But we shouldn’t be doing this. I have work.”

  When she gave him a half-hearted push, he held her still. The last thing Jolie needed was for her brain to work overtime, for her anxiety to notch up before tonight’s crucial dinner. Best if he drowned her in bliss, sated and relaxed her. Eve
n better if he somehow helped her realize this crazy spark between them probably wasn’t going to fizzle out.

  Heath wrapped his fingers around the edge of the table above her head and gripped tight, using the leverage to pull himself deeper into her body, reveling in her gasp. “Enjoying the pleasure, love? How does that feel?”

  She didn’t admit aloud that he was turning her inside out . . . but she stopped arguing. Instead, she let him have his way, meeting him thrust for thrust as he pulled back to the sensitive head of his cock, only to drive in once more, ensuring that he hit every tender spot along the way. He ground his pelvis against hers at the top of the stroke, giving her awakened clit a press-rub that sparked more need.

  Jolie cried out again. She was so damn responsive, fit him so perfectly. And once they passed the negotiations of the will-we-or-won’t-we stage, she always gave him her total attention, complete arousal, and whole body.

  In that moment, it wasn’t enough. He wanted her soul. No, that wasn’t all. He fucking wanted her heart. Her devotion. Her tomorrows.

  That should have alarmed the hell out of him. At the moment all he could think about was how explosive the orgasm between them was going to be and how tightly he intended to hold her afterward.

  “Take everything I’m giving you, Jolie. Every kiss . . .” He dragged his lips up her neck, then to her ear. “Every stroke, every inch. All my determination to make certain you crave me again and again.”

  “I already do,” she admitted in a rush. “It’s never been like this, so intense, so addicting, so distracting.”

  Drunk on triumph, Heath plunged inside her even harder.

  She tightened on him again, and it drove him to new heights. Not just because the sensation shot down his cock like lightning or because the sheer force of his arousal felt like lava running through his veins. No. Somehow, they were connected deeper than their bodies.

  Her arms tightened around him, fingers digging into his shoulders, around his spine as she dragged them lower—until she cupped his backside, rocking with him and urging him deeper with every thrust.

  “Jolie,” he gasped. “Love . . .”

  “Yes.” She nodded frantically. “Yes. Oh, hell. Yeeessss. Heath . . . Heath!”

  Fire lit his blood, burned his flesh. He held her tighter as he felt her convulse around him then followed her into the white-hot ecstasy that blistered as much as it soothed. And as he plunged into her one last time, Jolie held tight to his hips and pulled him in even more, continuing to grind out her climax and proving what he already knew: She would give herself to the people in her life, the people she knew and trusted and cared about. But she would also never be a passive partner who laid back and allowed things to happen to her. Jolie was a take-charge woman.

  Suddenly, despite his years with Anna and his attraction to girls who might never manage anything more ambitious than a grocery list, Heath couldn’t imagine sex—or life—with a woman who didn’t have her own agenda, goals, and demands. In short, he couldn’t imagine life without Jolie.

  Chapter Nine

  Rule for success number nine:

  Know your moral compass and stick to it.

  JOLIE almost died of embarrassment when she and Heath hastily righted their clothes and emerged from the file room. The rest of the staff lingered near the door, pretending they had business in the vicinity but they were gawking. No, they were judging. And they were entitled to.

  Mortification rolled through her. She’d been strict about workplace policies that encouraged maximum productivity, like no in-office dating. Her sister had once called her an automaton, an accusation Jolie had both denied and spurned. But she had to admit that until now—until Heath—she hadn’t understood how people could be so swept away by their emotions. For the first time, she’d behaved all too humanly.

  Being fallible, vulnerable was a brand-new feeling for her.

  “Hi.” She smoothed her hair, gathering her wits. “You’re all here. Wow. Um . . . You’re probably angry or shocked. What just happened was unprofessional. I owe every one of you a huge apology. I’m deeply sorry.”

  No one said a word, merely blinked or stared mutely.

  They were shocked. Jolie wasn’t surprised.

  Hell, she should lead by example, which meant immediately relieving Heath of his duties. Once, she would have done that without a second thought. But the sex had been half her fault. She couldn’t cast all the blame on him.

  But fairness and staff safety were only minor reasons she was choosing to keep him. The truth was, she felt way too satisfied—happy, even—to let him go.

  When had she become one of those women who allowed a man or romance to influence her mood? Her choices? Her thoughts? Betti was on the verge of greatness, and nothing else should matter, least of all a relationship that likely wouldn’t last.

  She cleared her throat, plowing through the awkward moment with her staff. “If you need to voice your concerns about what happened, I’ll make myself available on Monday. Once this meeting with Gardner is behind me, I’ll obviously be giving some thought to Betti’s policies. I want to be as fair as possible. Again, I’m truly sorry. Anything else?”

  More silence, along with a shrug or two.

  Well, after such a colossal screw-up, she couldn’t possibly expect open arms. At least no one was yelling.

  “Thanks for listening,” she muttered. “And now . . . I guess we should all go back to work.”

  “But of course. Good luck with your concentration.” Gerard gave her a conspiratorial wink. Then he eyed Heath speculatively before heading to his desk.

  Rohan followed, fighting so hard to keep a straight face, his mouth contorted comically. Apparently, he found the boss being a screw-up humorous.

  Wisteria looked teary and envious of the “true love” she was clearly convinced they shared. Jolie didn’t want to think about how uncomfortably beyond infatuation her feelings for Heath had become.

  With a sly smile playing at his mouth, Arthur turned his focus to the tablet in his hands. Oddly, her sexual faux pas seemed to have earned her brownie points from the accountant. Or maybe, in his mind, her office romp cancelled out his video game playing.

  That left Karis.

  Jolie turned to her sister, who silently asked how she was holding up. Jolie gave a nod. Physically, she’d never felt better.

  Emotionally, she was a mess.

  Forget the dozens of reasons she should still be pissed at herself for allowing Heath to seduce her or horrified that she’d had noisy office sex within earshot of her employees. Thankfully, she didn’t have to deal with any negative blowback from her staff. But that still left the tangle of her feelings for Heath. Somehow, being surrounded by him, impaled and wrapped in his arms . . . She’d felt even more drawn to him today. She was afraid to ask why.

  Her sister leaned close, whispering in her ear, “Don’t beat yourself up. You’re human. It’s okay.”

  When Karis left to resume her work, relief spilled through Jolie. She took a deep breath to process everyone’s surprisingly accepting reactions when she realized Heath still lingered. A stranger—a seasoned soldier with a buzz cut of golden stubble—stood beside him. When the guy met her gaze, his hard hazel eyes softened with an amused glint.

  Heath straightened his shirt and cleared his throat, then dropped a palm to the small of her back. Marking his territory? As if he’d need to at this point . . .

  “Jolie, this is Cutter. He’s going to provide personal protection for your sister while we figure out if she needs an asset long term. He comes highly recommended and . . .” He frowned at the other man. “Have you met Karis, then?”

  “Yep.” Cutter’s poorly concealed smile deepened. “You didn’t mention to her that you’d be assigning a bodyguard. So that was an interesting conversation.”

  “It . . . slipped my mind.” Heath turned the slightest bit red. “My apologies.”

  “Clearly you’ve been busy,” Cutter drawled, then turned to her. “
Ms. Quinn, your sister will be fine. I’ll protect her, take a bullet for her if necessary, and make sure she lives another day.”

  His words startled Jolie. Would Heath do the same for her? Give his life? It was their job, and Cutter seemed more than adept. But Heath . . . He’d volunteered—no, insisted—that she needed him to watch over her. It had sounded distracting and intrusive. Now it felt so personal.

  Of course, it wasn’t the first time he’d agreed to risk his