Rebel is MIA again. I don’t know where he is, and I’m ashamed to admit that I’ve been looking for him around every corner all morning. It’s becoming a sickness, and I need to stop this before I do any more damage to my sanity.
Shaking my head, I split ways with Darren and head back to my office. Once again, we spent our lunch hour together—this time we had fried chicken and okra at a little restaurant a little over a half mile away. It was a heavier lunch than I’m used to or usually prefer, but it was more than worth it. I’ll probably be stuffed to the gills the rest of the day.
I nod a greeting to each of my coworkers as I pass their tables. Slumping down in my chair, I kick my shoes off onto the floor and turn on the computer. After I finished pulling together the dairy ad, I got right to work on a new project. The website I’ve been designing all week is slowly beginning to come together. It’s for a small, family-owned pizza restaurant. They wanted something unique that would stand out against the competition. I created all the artwork in the header and background, starting with a few of the basics: a couple of pizzas, some fresh vegetables—whole and chopped, and a stone hearth in the background. To finish it off, Dominic’s Classic Italiano written in large, bold letters graces the header in a blending of green, red, and white. There’s still a lot of detail work that needs to go into it, but it’s coming together, and I’m more than happy with the results. I just hope they are, too.
There’s nothing more nerve-racking than trying to pull ideas from a rough outline provided only by someone’s personal vision. There’s no way to extract the ideas from their head though I wish there were. It would make the process so much easier.
So, it all comes down to whether or not my interpretation of what they want is correct or not. It could very well turn out that they hate it, and I’d have to scrap the whole thing and start over. What a way for my first in-depth job to turn out, eh?
I have to get out of my head. My hands have adopted a fine tremor, and I realize that I’m beginning to doubt my abilities. I may not feel like I know what I’m doing, but I do. It’s easy to forget that this is what I went to school for. It’s easy to doubt myself when I don’t have someone hanging over my shoulder to guide me every step of the way. It’s easy to let the negative thoughts take over, but I’m not a quitter.
I charge through the rest of the afternoon, focused entirely on my work and nothing else. That’s probably why I don’t realize that someone has been standing in the doorway watching me for the last several minutes.
Sudden awareness strikes me, and I feel his presence like a physical touch. A touch I would know anywhere because I have practice seeking it out amidst the darkness.
Rebel stands leaning against the open door frame with his hands plunged deep in his pants pockets and a dark, sinful look in his eyes.
My heart leaps in my chest, racing full throttle when I see him there. “How long have you been standing there?” I ask, playing off the shock.
“Long enough to see that you’re dedicated to the job.” Pulling his hands from his pockets, Rebel unfastens the button on his jacket as he moves toward me. “I always wondered what it would be like to see you in a business setting.”
God, why does he have to look so good? My gaze slowly slides down his tall frame, beginning with his broad shoulders, down to his strong chest, narrow waist, and finally, those long legs. Leaning back in my chair, as much to appear relaxed as to place distance between us, I stare up at him. He looms over me, his presence so overpowering that it seems to suck all the oxygen from the room.
“Really. What was it like?” I ask, hoping my smile is somewhere north of seductive and doesn’t reflect any of the nerves that are currently running riot inside me.
“It was...different,” he muses. Dragging a finger over the mess of papers on my table, he continues saying, “Of course, I pictured you wearing a lot less clothing and your mouth around my cock.”
I lift both brows. “Well, you certainly don’t censor yourself, do you?”
His eyes meet mine and the sly smirk that creeps across his face enthralls me. “Why should I? You always liked it when I spoke my mind. In fact,” he says, making his way around the table. Taking hold of both arms on my chair, he turns me to face him and crouches down. His midnight eyes are arresting, and I feel the air get stuck in my throat as I meet his intense gaze. “You used to like a lot of things about me.”
“I hardly knew you then.” I’m not so sure I do now.
“That’s true, but one thing you did know about me was that I’d never hurt you.”
So that’s what this is about. I should have known he’d still be hung up on it. As much as I’d like to, I know I won’t be able to dodge his questions this time. That doesn’t mean I won’t try. “Did I?”
Wrapping his strong fingers around my thighs, he parts them wide. Taking advantage of the wheels on the chair, he pulls me and it closer, insinuating himself between my legs and bringing us so close that I no longer see anything else in the room except him.
“Oh, you did,” he purrs. “A part of you still does. Otherwise, you wouldn’t still be sitting here. You wouldn’t have let me get inside your panties the other day, and you most definitely wouldn’t have let me fuck you.”
My brows pull down when he says this. “I never let you fuck me.”
His gaze falls to my lips and my heart jackhammers in response. “No, but you will.”
“You’re so confident,” I accuse, pushing my feet into the floor and forcing the chair back a foot. Rebel just pulls me back in, adjusting himself so that his arms rest on either side of my thighs, gripping the chair frame so it can’t go anywhere again.
“I have to be,” he drawls, “for all the chasing you’ve got me doing.”
“I’m not forcing you to chase me, Rebel. In fact, I recall telling you to walk the other way the next time you saw me.”
“That’s what you said, and then the next day you climbed in the backseat of my car with me.”
“Before running away,” I add.
He tips his head once in acknowledgement. “So you see how a man could get confused.”
I guess he has a point. I’ve been sending him mixed messages. How can I expect him to leave me alone when I turn around and mindlessly follow him wherever he says to go? How can I expect to keep my distance when I allow him to be so close like he is right now?
“Maybe you should make things easier on both of us and just walk away.”
Rebel’s face is an unreadable mask. I don’t know how he does it, but he somehow manages to close off any and all indicators of what might be going on in his head. There are no tells to reference, just blank slate.
“I tried that once,” he says, his voice distant as though he’s remembering something in the past. “It didn’t work out that well.”
“Let me guess,” I say sarcastically. “I just have this pull over you.”
“In a sense,” he agrees. “I just know that I don’t like how it feels when you’re not around. I like having you by my side. That’s why I was happy to hear that you’d accepted Jack’s job offer. Now I can see you every day, whenever I want.”
Releasing the chair, Rebel’s hands smooth over the curves of my thighs and up to my hips. Tugging, he pulls me to the edge of the seat. The position puts my core flush with his chest. He looks up at me, his face and that mouth so close I can already taste him on my tongue, and my pussy throbs for attention.
I haven’t had sex in a while, and certainly not by the standards that Rebel has set. The need for him is quickly becoming a physical ache, one that demands attention. Now. I know I need to hold out longer, maybe forever, but I keep hearing Annie’s voice in my head telling me to just do it. Go for it, release us both. If I give myself permission to have sex with Rebel then, in a way, I’ll be giving her permission to move forward with Brody.
My reasoning isn’t sound in the least. I won’t even insult myself by pretending that it is, but I want it to be. I want it enough to know that I’ll take whatever excuse I can make, no matter how flimsy, and run with it.
I want Rebel that bad.
And he knows it. Reading my expression, Rebel’s mouth curves into a triumphant grin as he leans forward, knowing he’s already won. I don’t have the power or the presence of mind to stop him, either. I don’t want to. I want Rebel. I want his mouth on mine, his body moving inside of me. I want all of him.
When Rebel’s lips touch mine, my whole body shudders and sighs. Muscles that had been bunched up with tension relax, and when my hands reach up to hold his face to mine and force him to kiss me longer, I feel like I’ve finally arrived home.
It’s a dangerous way to think. Rebel is far from being a safe place to fall. He poses a threat to every part of my life, but I can’t break the connection now even if I wanted to. I need him now like I need my next breath.
As Rebel begins working my skirt up to my waist, and I reach down to rub his thick, hard cock through his trousers, there is no turning back. In the back of my mind, I know we shouldn’t be doing this. Not because of our history or Florence or the plan or any of that, but because of where we are. We’re in my office. In my very public office. It’s the end of the day, yes, but that doesn’t mean we’re alone. That doesn’t ensure no one will pop in and see us going at it like a couple of teenagers.
Do I care? Yes. Absolutely, and I should. This is my job. My very new job, and having sex in the office space would be a major no-no. I’m sure, despite knowing one of the owners, that I could still get fired.
Will that stop me? Yes...in theory.
The thing is, Rebel make me mindless. Lust and passion race through my body and mind like gasoline, and I don’t know what to do with myself other than to follow his lead. In moments like this, when Rebel is stroking me through my panties with his long, able fingers, I lose myself. I lose all sense of right and wrong, giving total power over to my animal brain.
I don’t know if Rebel feels the same way that I do, but he certainly is behaving like a man possessed.
“Fuck me, Rebel,” I plead, fumbling with the zipper on his fly. I want to feel his hard cock in my hand, feel the velvety flesh slide over my palm as I stroke him. But Rebel shakes his head no. I almost don’t believe what he’s telling me, sure I’ve misinterpreted the signal, but I haven’t.
Peeling my panties down my legs and gently removing them from each bare foot, Rebel glides his hands back up, starting with my ankles and ending at my waist. His thumbs trace the crease where my thighs and hips meet as he peers up at me. “We can’t do that here. Not now. It’s too risky. But no one can see me back here, which means that I can fuck you with my tongue all I want.”
I swallow tightly, wanting nothing more than to feel his mouth on me. Rebel’s always been sparing with oral sex, using pleasure as a tool to dominate over me. If I’m good, he’ll give me everything, taking me to heights I’ve never experienced outside of his bed. If I’m anything less than what he wants me to be, he won’t hesitate to leave me hanging.
Damn, but I love to hate this man.
“Rebel, maybe we should get out of here,” I suggest, thinking that it would be better to do this in a bed anyway or the backseat of his car, than to get caught. I doubt that it would reflect well on him, either, especially if he does buy up Jack’s share of the business.
“And let you change your mind again?” He lifts a dark brow, telling me just what he thinks of my idea. “I don’t think so, pussycat. Now, bring that tight little pussy over here so I can fuck it.”
Maneuvering us and the chair so that he’s tucked safely under my desktop, Rebel fits his mouth over my clit and gives it a few experimental licks that cause the muscles in my thighs to twitch. My eyes slip closed as he licks around my lips, tonguing my entrance and circling back around, over and over again.
When I feel one of his fingers rim the outside of my vagina, the excitement ratchets higher, and my lungs expand on a silent shout.
“Shh, pussycat,” Rebel rumbles from between my thighs. “You don’t want to call attention to us, do you?”
I shake my head. Whether he can see it or not, I don’t know, but forming words feels impossible to do now. His lips wrap around my clit as he begins to suckle me, and his finger slides deep inside my pussy, curving up to touch on that spot he knows so well.
My fingers dig into the armrests as he continues to fuck me with his mouth and finger until I’m not sure I can take anymore. The sensations are so intense, I can’t separate anything out. I feel like a giant ball of energy ready to combust.
Sinking my teeth into my bottom lip, I’m seriously doubting how I will manage to keep down the scream that’s building in my chest, but that worry is suddenly ripped away when I hear footsteps enter the room.
I look up to find Darren heading my way. His head is slightly tilted and a crease of worry creates fine lines across his forehead. “I was just getting ready to head out,” he says, hitching his thumb over his shoulder, “but I wanted to ask you if you’d be interested in hanging out with me and Daniel tonight first. You don’t look like you’re feeling too well, though. Are you sick?”
Horror shoots through me, and I try to readjust myself in my seat, but Rebel’s arm is wrapped tightly around the back of my knee, holding me in place. Shooting my hand beneath the desk, I push at his forehead, attempting to dislodge him, but his greedy mouth continues eating at me undeterred.
“Umm...” I feel a second finger enter me, spreading me open and curling inside of me, touching that spot again, and I forget the question.
“Geez, you’re sweating. You must be running a fever,” Darren comments. “Why are you still here at work? You should be home resting.”
God, this is just like dinner at the Scotts’ house. The worry in Darren’s voice is clear, and I know if I don’t say something quick, our cover is going to be blown.
Tunneling my fingers through Rebel’s hair, I form a fist, intending to pull him away so I can have a moment to breathe and get my head around my thoughts, but he buries his face in me and my hips buck involuntarily.
Shit, I need to get Darren out of here before I orgasm. There’s no way I’ll be able to hide that. “I’m okay. Lunch must not have settled right,” I explain. “I already took something to calm my stomach, though. As soon as it...uhhh...” Rebel’s thumb sneaks up to rub circles around my clit at the same time he pushes his fingers deeper into me. God...damn, it feels so good. “As soon as it starts working, uh...I’ll shut everything down here and head home,” I continue on. Barely.
“Are you in any condition to go home by yourself?” Darren asks, looking me over with concern. “No offence, but you look terrible.”
I feel Rebel’s silent laughter roll over me as a huff of hot breath, and I squeeze my knees together around his head until he begins pumping his fingers into me in earnest, creating sloppy sucking sounds. I’m so wet, everything, including the chair I imagine, is completely soaked.
The sounds are loud enough that if I don’t release him, Darren will hear what’s happening and he’s a smart enough man to put two and two together. Loosening my grip, I see Rebel draw back with a big, shit-eating grin on his face as he wipes his hand over his mouth.
“I’ll be fine,” I tell Darren. “Go ahead on home and I’ll catch up with you tomorrow.”
“Are you sure? I don’t feel right about leaving you alone like this.”
I sigh, wanting to be rid of him already so I can have a moment of peace and claim my orgasm. “I have...stomach problems,” I say slowly and with a raised brow, hoping he’ll get the picture. It’s beyond difficult to concentrate with Rebel’s fingers still lodged inside me. “It’s nothing that I’m not used to.”
It takes him a moment to catch on, and then Darren’s concern shifts to pity. “You should have said something before. What is it, IBS? Crohn’s? Wait. That’s you’re business, not mine,” he rushes on, waving his hand through the air. “Whatever it is, from now on, we’re staying far away from greasy food.”
“Unfortunately, that’s probably best.” I seriously loved that fried chicken, though. I’m going to mourn that chicken. Now, I’ll have to make special trips and eat it in secret if I ever want to taste heaven again.
“Okay, sweets. I guess I’m heading out then,” he says while backing toward the door. “I hope you feel better soon. Call me if you need anything.”
I give him a salute and a soft smile, glad when he’s finally gone. “You’re such a dick,” I tell Rebel, grinning down at him and meaning every word.
“Ah, but you love it. And you love my dick, too.”
Don’t I know it. Pushing my palms against the edge of the desk, I roll the chair back to give him more room to work. “Shut up and get back to work, slacker. I want you to make me come.” Lifting my legs up, I hitch them over his shoulders, spreading myself completely open to him.
Kneeling before me, Rebel’s eyes drift down between my legs, and he licks his lips like he’s hungry and ready for a fest. Instead, I hear metal scrapping against metal as he pulls down his zipper and releases his hard cock. My gaze immediately falls to it, eager to see and feel and touch and taste. Oh yeah, it’s definitely been too long.
“Damn, you’re fucking beautiful like this. I can make this quick,” he promises. Grabbing the edge of the chair, he draws me closer. On his knees, Rebel is still tall enough that, with my ass hanging off the edge of the seat, his cock is right where it needs to be. “You’d better hold on,” he warns me. “I’m going to fuck this pussy hard and fast. If you scream, I’m going fuck you even harder, and then anyone left in the building is going to come running, and they’re going to see how beautifully you come when I’m buried inside you.”
Oh...God. I’m about to come from his words alone. With a sly smile, I tell him, “Just try not to stain your pants this time, big guy.”
With that, Rebel rams home, burying himself so deep that it rips a scream from me before I have a chance to swallow it down. Fear shoots down my spine and my gaze darts toward the door, expecting to see someone come barreling through it at any moment, but as Rebel begins driving all eight inches of his rock hard length into me, using the chair as leverage, I just don’t care anymore.
Let them find us. Let them see what this man does to me. How he unravels me. Just the thought of someone standing there, witnessing us fucking, makes my pussy clench. Rebel grunts as my inner muscles clamp down on him like a vise, his gaze holding mine with a mischievous spark that tells me that was his goal the whole time, and then he picks up the pace.
I lose myself in the rhythm, in the furious pounding he’s giving me, and when the orgasm finally has me in its grips, I let go. Rebel’s hand clamps down over my mouth to muffle my screams, and it only excites me more. I feel him expand inside me and force my eyes open so I can watch that moment when his eyes squeeze shut, and the tendons in his neck stand out as he releases himself inside of me.
The bad thing about office sex is that there is no luxury of recovery time. As soon as Rebel’s finished, he pulls out of me and stands up, causing my feet to drop gracelessly back to the floor. It takes me a moment to recover before I begin putting my clothes back into place.
Rebel is dead silent as he straightens himself out and makes sure everything is back where it should be, and then he gives me a smile that’s chilling.
“I have some work to finish up. I’ll tell Gerardo to expect you downstairs in five minutes.” Then giving me his back, he walks out the door.