The elevator dinged, and I realized I’d finally reached the ground level of the office building. Trying to act natural, I squared my shoulders and rushed toward the revolving glass doors, my heels clicking on the marble floor.
Logically, I knew nobody knew what was happening—that nobody would even blink an eye when they saw Jackson down here ten minutes from now—but somehow it all still felt illicit. Like their eyes followed me, knowing what I was about to do.
But even with the weight of all those imaginary eyes on me, I couldn’t bring myself to feel ashamed or embarrassed. Instead, I felt…well, sexy. Empowered. I held my head a little higher, imagining Jackson as he walked across the hotel lobby toward me, that hunger in his eyes.
All for me.
It was crazy. Nuts, really. Completely out of character, yet somehow it felt so right.
Luckily, the walk to the hotel was a short one—it was just around the corner, so close that it was likely a happy hour favorite for the people who worked in the business district. As I walked into the lobby, though, it was clear that it wasn’t a favorite lunch spot. The hotel bar was nearly empty save a few older gentlemen sipping amber liquid from highball glasses on the edge of the bar. Briefly I debated heading over but instead settled into a booth in the far corner of the room.
Jackson wasn’t even here yet, but my heart was already racing. At this rate, I was going to drop dead of anticipation before he walked in. I was just about to head to the ladies’ room to take off my underwear and pat my hot cheeks with cool water when, too soon, I spotted him. He was striding toward me, his hands tucked lazily in his pockets, his dark hair falling slightly over his eyes.
I stared at him, shaking my head in rueful disbelief. He hadn’t waited the ten minutes. In fact, it seemed like he hadn’t even waited two. But then, how could I have ever expected him to do something that was completely and totally his idea?
I should’ve been irritated. Instead, another sizzle shot through me. He was a man who marched to his own beat. Did what he wanted and took charge. The feminist in me should be totally turned off, but instead, my knees started to shake with excitement.
This guy was turning me into some sort of sexual deviant, and I had to admit, I kind of liked it.
Wordlessly, he slid into the booth beside me and then dropped one warm palm on my naked knee, searing me with the heat of his skin. The waiter approached, and Jackson ordered for us—two glasses of Cabernet. He waited until the other man’s back was turned before leaning in close to me.
“Did you follow my instructions?” he asked, though before I could reply, his fingers were snaking up the inside of my thigh, gently spreading my legs apart until he felt the rough lace of my thong.
“Oh, Piper,” he murmured, shaking his head in mock disappointment.
“You didn’t exactly give me time,” I hissed. “What happened to waiting ten minutes?”
“I wanted to, but then I saw your ass in that skirt while you were getting on the elevator and…well, a man has needs.” He offered me his wolf’s grin, and I narrowed my eyes.
“Well, now you have to pay the price. I’m still wearing my panties, and you’re just going to have to live with it.”
He looked about ready to answer, but then the waiter reappeared with our beverages.
“Thanks so much. And we’re only here for the one, so we’ll take the check,” Jackson said with a smile.
The waiter disappeared, and so did Jackson’s smile. His heated gaze locked on to my mouth, and I could feel my nipples tighten beneath my blouse.
“Now, where were we?” he asked silkily. “Ah, I remember now. We were talking about punishment.”
“Exactly,” I said, pausing to gulp down a swallow of wine to soothe my dry throat. “The underwear is your punishment for not waiting—”
“Nope. I mean your punishment. For not doing as I asked.”
“Ridiculous,” I murmured, but I could already feel my body responding to the threat that felt way more like a promise.
“It’s an option. That’s all I’m saying,” he said with a casual shrug that belied the tension in his muscles. Dear Lord, was this man sexy. Like a tiger, all sleek, hard muscle and barely restrained power.
“And the other option?” I pressed, my voice breathy and thin.
“I could make do with what we have.” He traced a line back up to the hem of my panties, pushed them aside, and rolled a finger over the seam of my sex. “If I choose to.”
I shivered, and another rush of need took hold of me as his finger pushed deeper, teasing me. I shot a panicked glance around the room, but there was no one looking our way. And even if they did, the way he was angled in front of me probably made it look to an outsider like he was whispering something in my ear.
“What do you think I should do?” he asked.
“I-I don’t think you should stop,” I whispered as he nipped my earlobe sharply with the edge of his teeth. I gasped and could feel his smile against my skin.
“I think I will. And let it be a lesson to you.” He pulled away, and my breath caught again, my knees shaking as he righted my skirt. He settled across from me again, leaving me staring at him.
“I…” I started, but I didn’t know what to say. Instead, my gaze searched his as he reached for his glass of wine and clinked it against my own.
“To a deal well struck.”
“Sure. To that,” I muttered, wondering yet again if a person could literally die of need.
Because if so? Somebody was going to need to call the coroner. Stat.
He smirked again, eyeing me over the top of his glass while he took a sip.
“What’s so funny?” I demanded, taking my own glass with a shaking hand.
“You,” he said simply. “You’re trying to be cool and collected when I know what you really want.”
“And what is it that I want?”
“Honestly?” He ran a hand over his square jaw as he let his gaze trail over me again. “Well, first of all, you want me to hide underneath this tablecloth and lick you until you make a scene.”
I squeezed my thighs together to quell the surge of need that rose in me at the very thought.
“And then?”
“Then you want me to take you up to one of these fancy rooms and fuck you hard and deep until you scream.”
That was about right, but hell if I was going to admit it.
I ran my index finger down the front of my blouse and popped the top button open with a flick of my fingers, baring a few inches of creamy skin. Jackson went suddenly quiet, his gaze locked on my hand.
“Thing is, boss man…you want that too, don’t you?”
I popped another button, feeling like a fucking Amazon warrior high with power.
“So we can sit here talking all day, or we can go upstairs and do what we’ve both been wanting to do since we walked in. Your call.”
I managed to take another sip of wine without spilling a drop, despite my trembling hands.
“What’s it gonna be?” I asked, eyeing him like he was my last meal on death row.
“I’m going to pay the check,” he managed through gritted teeth. He nodded toward the approaching waiter. Quickly glancing at the bill, he dropped some money into the leather billfold and then turned his attention back to me.
“Enjoying your drink?” he asked.
“I can barely taste it,” I answered honestly. All I could think about was how his lips would taste on mine. What he was going to do to me when we were finally alone. How he would satisfy the needy ache between my thighs.
“Well, if you don’t think you can enjoy the rest, it’s better that we don’t waste our time. What do you think?”
Swallowing hard, I nodded and then allowed him to take my hand and lead me across the room and back into the hotel lobby.
Rather than stopping for a room key, though, he led me into the elevators.
I frowned. “What are we doing?” I asked.
“You said this was supposed to happen on your lunch hour. So I’m giving you a choice.” The elevator swung into action, but just as quickly he pressed the emergency stop. “I happen to know that the video cameras in these elevators don’t work.”
My breath caught in my throat. “So what’s my choice?” I forced myself to ask.