Complicated

  Complicated

  Claire Kent

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Copyright © 2014 by Claire Kent. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means.

  This book was originally published by Ellora’s Cave by the same title and the penname Zannie Adams. Copyright © 2007. It has since been revised and reedited.

  Contents

  One

  Two

  Three

  Epilogue

  Excerpt from Escorted

  About the Author

  One

  Victoria Ray bit her lip as she leaned back against the stone railing of the balcony and tried to keep from whimpering. All she could see was the man in front of her, the warm press of his body trapping her in place.

  One of his hands curved around the back of her head while the other cupped her breast. His thumb twirled her nipple with skillful precision, causing intoxicating tugs of pleasure between her legs.

  She sucked in a harsh breath, inhaling the warm, male scent of him. He always smelled better than any man she’d ever known—masculine and faintly expensive but not with anything as obvious as cologne. His scent only heightened her arousal, leaving her off-balance from the mingling of heady sensations.

  “Greg,” she gasped, her fingernails digging into his shoulders through the fabric of his black suit. “Someone will see us.”

  Greg looked over his shoulder at the French doors that led back into the hotel ballroom where a large crowd was celebrating the successful conclusion of the gubernatorial campaign they’d both been working on for several months. Anyone who happened to glance out through the glass panes would see Greg Stone, brother of the newly elected governor, shamelessly feeling up Victoria, a quiet university librarian who’d always kept to herself.

  Lowering his hand from her breast, Greg nudged Victoria toward the corner where the balcony railing met the side of the building. There was some protection offered by the large potted palm. Not enough to hide them completely but enough to partially disguise their carnal activities.

  Then he pushed her back against the railing with the length of his strong body and lowered his head to mouth her neck. The slight bristle on his jaw scraped against her throat deliciously, and she squirmed between him and the railing.

  When he raised his hand to fondle her nipple, she let her head fall back and moaned deep in her throat. Her pussy was a hot ache between her thighs, and she had to force herself not to grind her groin against Greg’s hip.

  Little pants of desire and frustration were forcing their way out through her parted lips. She tangled her fingers into his dark hair to hold his head in place. “This is crazy,” she managed to say, pulling on his hair in greedy insistence. “Maybe we should wait until later.”

  “Why?” Greg’s voice was thick and textured and as sexy as anything she’d ever heard. “You looked so irresistible in there—trying to pretend you were ignoring me. I couldn’t keep my hands off you any longer.”

  “But we agreed to be discreet.” Her objections were only token, brought on by the common sense she’d inherited from her mother. Her body was pliant and eager against him. And the idea of letting him touch her like this—half-exposed on the balcony—gave her an erotic thrill she couldn’t deny.

  Greg lifted his head and gazed down on her with smoldering brown eyes. “We will be.” Belying his words, one of his hands moved behind her thighs, gathering up the fabric of her skirt until he could cup the full curve of her ass. “Fuck, you look gorgeous, all hot and debauched like this. Your cheeks get so flushed, and your lips so swollen. Your hair is falling out of that bun you insist on wearing, and your nipples are so tight you can’t even hide them beneath your prim suit.”

  She flushed even hotter under the possessive approval of his gaze. “Prim!” She tried for a teasing pout despite the aching compulsion of her body. “It’s not prim. It’s vintage.” Her fitted, forties-style gray suit was new, but at the moment it was rumpled and disarranged, the knee-length skirt hiked up around her hips and the jacket falling open. “And it’s not a bun—it’s a chignon.”

  Chuckling in husky appreciation, Greg lowered his gaze to her chest, where her nipples were jutting out brazenly through the silk of her blouse. He pinched one of them through the fabric—causing her to cry out from the jolt of pleasure.

  Then he reached behind her thigh to lift one of her legs and hook it around his hip, leaving her wet pussy protected only by the thin satin of her panties.

  Victoria wanted him so much she was shaking, but she was brutally conscious of the French doors still visible beyond the potted palm. Anyone could come out. Anyone could see the two of them in this shameless tangle of limbs.

  “You’re not really going to fuck me here, are you?” she asked in a raspy voice. “What if someone catches you with your pants down? You’re supposed to be a respectable, dignified businessman.”

  Despite his heated intensity, he couldn’t stifle a laugh at this. He kissed her fiercely and then murmured against her lips, “God, you’re delicious, Victoria.”

  She felt an odd sensation in her chest she couldn’t quite identify, but it was quickly overwhelmed by the insistent need of her body. She was in a helpless position—imprisoned between the railing and Greg’s solid body, supported only on one of her legs—but she tried to rub against him as much as she could, letting out a broken sigh of relief at the stimulation on her clit.

  Greg adjusted his stance so he could slip one of his hands between her thighs. He pressed his fingers against the damp spot on her panties. “If you really don’t want to do this here, you should tell me now.”

  Victoria tried to think clearly, and she realized her anxiety wasn’t true reluctance. In fact, it only heightened the naughty thrill of the situation.

  “Don’t you dare stop now,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around him and holding on tightly.

  He chuckled again—a exquisite, husky sound that sent vibrations all through her body—as he tucked his fingers past the delicate satin of her panties and into her intimate folds.

  She nearly cried out again in pleasure but managed to suppress the sound by biting her lower lip.

  “Fuck, you’re so wet.” He explored her arousal, parting the flesh to rub circles against her swollen clit.

  Victoria almost choked as the sensations intensified. He was hard and hot and big against her, and she breathed him in with every strained breath.

  He was fully aroused now. She could feel the tight bulge at the front of his pants pressing into her middle. But he’d always been patient, and his caresses were neither rushed nor clumsy.

  Her spine almost bent backwards when he lifted her thigh even more so he could slide two fingers inside her. At her desperately hitched breath, he murmured, “You like that?”

  “Mm-hmm,” she mumbled, biting down on her lip. An orgasm was already collecting at her center, just from the way her clinging inner walls had to stretch around the penetration of his fingers.

  “You want me to fuck you with my fingers?”

  “Mm-hmm.” She was afraid to release her lip for fear she’d start screaming and rouse the attention of the party inside. She could hear music and the vague murmur of laughter and conversation. It was all happening just beyond those French doors.

  Greg started to pump his fingers inside her, moving them easily in her slippery pussy. Her skirt was hiked up around her waist now, leaving her legs bare except for her thigh-high stockings.

  She dug her high heel into the back of his legs, trying to get it e
ven higher to give his fingers better access.

  “How’s that?” Greg asked, his hot brown eyes never leaving her flushed, twisting face.

  It felt so good she was afraid to open her mouth, lest anyone hear how close she was to climax. “Mm.”

  “What was that?” Greg curled his fingers inside her, expertly finding her g-spot.

  “Mm, mm,” she forced out, clenching her eyes as tightly shut as her mouth.

  “Did you want me to stop?” His fingers grew still inside her.

  Victoria nearly wailed in frustration. “Stop teasing,” she gritted, clawing at the back of his shoulders through the fabric of his expensive suit. “Fuck, I want to come.”

  He started moving his fingers again, sliding and stretching her pulsing channel and firmly connecting with her g-spot. The stimulation gathered into a deep pressure below her belly and made her moan.

  “You want to come like this?” Greg murmured, his thick voice as erotic as his touch. “Half-naked and splayed on the balcony, where anyone could see you. All they’d have to do is step outside. You want that?”

  It was true. They weren’t hidden. They could be caught at any time. And the knowledge sent thrills of anxious pleasure jolting down to her pussy. “Yeah,” she gasped, her head lolling back helplessly as she let him pleasure her in the mild autumn air. “Yeah.”

  “You want them to see you like this? To see how hot and sexy and wild you are beneath your quiet demeanor.”

  Everyone thought Victoria was proper, boring, bookish, a little bit shy. The stereotypical librarian.

  Everyone but Greg.

  She was so close to coming now her body was tensing up in preparation. She clung to him desperately and tried to hump his hand. “Yeah, please, please!”

  “That’s right, baby,” Greg said, his voice growing hoarse and his body nearly as tight as hers was. “Show them. Show them all. Show them how hard you can come.”

  She was nearly sobbing as the pressure finally shattered, and she came all around his fingers. The pleasure pulsed in delicious waves as her body shook and spasmed in clumsy abandon. She had to bury her face in Greg’s chest to smother the loud sounds of her release.

  Before she’d barely come down, Greg had pulled her head back and kissed her—rough and deep. She whimpered into his mouth, her pussy still clinging tightly to his fingers.

  He was pressing the bulge of his arousal against her middle in small urgent thrusts—a sign of how much he’d lost his characteristic control. The evidence of this was thrilling, almost as thrilling as the delicious fear of being caught.

  But before their mouths had parted a new series of sounds wafted out from the ballroom.

  Both of them knew what those sounds meant.

  Greg’s brother—the governor elect—was about to give a speech.

  Which meant Greg needed to get back inside or someone would come looking for him.

  Letting out a desperate groan, Greg released her mouth, removed his fingers from between her legs, and took a step back, leaving Victoria feeling cold and half-unsatisfied.

  “Damn it,” he muttered, closing his eyes and breathing deeply in what she knew was an attempt to get himself under control.

  Victoria pulled down her wrinkled skirt and rubbed her thighs together to dispel the empty ache at her center. She buttoned her jacket and tried to smooth out some of the wrinkles before she tucked stray blonde strands of her hair behind her ears. “We can finish up right after the speeches,” she suggested, feeling kind of guilty that she’d had an orgasm when Greg definitely had not.

  He nodded. “I’ve reserved a room upstairs.” He glanced back at the French doors. “Why don’t you go out first, since you’re in better shape than I am?”

  “All right.” Victoria was flushed, rumpled, and shaky—which she never would have considered good shape—but at least she wasn’t sporting a hard-on like poor Greg. She stepped over and gave him a light kiss. “Sorry. You shouldn’t have wasted so much time on me.”

  Despite his frustration, Greg chuckled warmly against her skin. “It wasn’t time wasted. And I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”

  This caused another one of those odd sensations in her chest and she felt compelled to hide her face from him as she ducked discreetly back into the ballroom.

  ***

  She and Greg Stone had met several months ago through his brother’s political campaign. She’d been immediately attracted to him. Who wouldn’t be attracted to a man as mature, intelligent, funny, kind, and handsome as him? But she had never dreamed she’d get the chance to act on the attraction.

  She was just a normal woman—smart and basically attractive but nothing special. And Greg was one of the most eligible men around.

  Until one night in campaign headquarters when they’d been working late alone. By that time, Victoria had relaxed with him, and she’d talked and smiled more than normal. She’d teased him about the other single female volunteers, all of whom were making obvious plays for him. Then Greg had hauled her against him into an unexpected kiss. They’d ended up fucking against the wall and then on the desk and then on the desk again. As he’d been pounding into her, holding her legs up against his shoulders, making her frantically babble his name, Victoria had realized that maybe Greg was attracted to her too.

  They’d both agreed they didn’t want a relationship. Neither was interested in the complications that a serious, romantic relationship would entail. Both of them were content with their lives as they were. Sex was all they wanted from each other. So they’d been having a discreet affair for the last three months—fucking a couple times a week and enjoying it completely.

  Victoria had secretly been worried that the end of the election might signal the end of their affair, and she wasn’t ready for that to happen.

  So it was a relief that Greg had reserved a room in the hotel tonight.

  She didn’t want to marry him and have his babies.

  She just wanted to keep fucking him for as long as she could.

  ***

  An hour later, she slid the key he’d given her into the lock of the hotel room and stepped into the entryway of the luxurious room.

  As soon as the door shut behind her, Greg pounced.

  He must have been waiting because it took him less than thirty seconds to get her pressed back against the wall. His kiss was hungry, and his embrace hard and demanding.

  Victoria responded immediately, something thrilling inside her at this evidence of his urgency. Her mouth and hands were just as insistent as his were, and soon they were both equally eager and aroused.

  They stumbled over toward the bed, still kissing and groping each other. After a lot of fumbling, Victoria managed to push Greg’s suit jacket off over his shoulders, but he wouldn’t release his hold on her ass to let the jacket fall to the floor.

  Realizing through her hot haze that she could take him inside her sooner if they managed to get some of their clothes off, Victoria gave up on the jacket and bent her leg up behind her. She tried to pull off her high heel, but it had a Mary-Jane strap and wouldn’t slide off over her arch.

  She gave a frustrated huff that ended as a grunt when he claimed her mouth in another hard kiss. This time, he threw her off balance, and they both tumbled onto the bed.

  She landed on her back, her bottom halfway off the edge of the mattress. Giving up on her shoes, she instead fumbled between their bodies in an attempt to unfasten his pants.

  He was fully erect—his arousal tight in his trousers. And she was just as aroused as he was, her pussy wet and aching between her legs.

  While she worked on the front of his pants, Greg grabbed fistfuls of her skirt and hiked it up over her hips until it was bunched around her waist. With her legs freed from the straight skirt, she wrapped them tightly around his hips, still wearing her stockings and shoes.

  She released a victorious exclamation when she finally managed to free his cock from his trousers. It was hard, warm, and heavy in her hands.
She loosened her legs around him to give him some room to position himself between her thighs.

  He was farther off the bed than she was, bracing himself with his feet on the floor. It couldn’t have been a comfortable position, but he was too caught up in lust to care. He used his hand to align himself at her entrance, his eyes raking over her flushed, eager face and her sprawled body in her disarranged clothes. “You ready for me?”

  “God, yeah!”

  She tightened her legs around him, her heels digging into his ass as he moved her panties aside and pushed his erection into the wet pliancy of her body.

  She sucked in a sharp breath of relief at the thick, tight penetration, but she didn’t have time to adjust to the sensations before he pulled back and pitched his hips forward again.

  “Oh God!” she cried out as the force of his thrust shook the bed, jiggled her body, sent jolts of pleasure shooting out from the connection.

  He reared up on straightened arms—his hands firmly planted on the bed on either side of her shoulders—and then thrust again, levering up on the in-stroke.

  “Fuck, oh fuck!” She was babbling, and her voice growing increasingly loud, but she couldn’t help it. Overwhelmed by the sight of the tense, primal expression on his handsome face above her, Victoria fell headlong toward climax, spiraling faster on each strong stroke of his cock.

  Greg made a throaty sound—maybe pleasure, maybe frustration—and adjusted his stance to give himself more leverage. He was still mostly dressed in his sophisticated suit and tie, a fact that made the whole thing even hotter for Victoria.

  She’d never seen Greg like this before. He was a mature, cultivated, well-respected man, and he’d always treated her with a teasing kind of care and appreciation.

  He’d never been this wild. This out of control. Like an animal, his expression almost feral as he drove himself into her.

  Soon she was crying out helplessly as her pleasure began to overwhelm her. Her head tossed desperately on the bedding as she clawed lines down the back of his jacket.