The Gentleman Dom Page 6

  Elle couldn't keep her eyes off him, especially not while he was nattily arranging his cuffs, as if they were in a "naughty secretary" porn spanking video and he was making her wait for him – full of dread at what was about to happen – to trade places with her and put her over his knee.

  Not that she'd necessarily put that past him…

  "I've missed you."

  There was a wealth of emotion in that short sentence, but it wasn't at all what she expected him to say. Frankly, if it came right down to it, she'd never really expected to see him again, especially considering the fact that she'd snuck out of his room, bundled up her stuff and left the state after their little one nightstand.

  Elle just couldn't deal with what she'd done. She wasn't a casual sex kind of person, especially not after what she'd just gone through, and yet there she was, having had sex with the first guy who showed her any kind of attention.

  Granted, he was effing gorgeous. He took her breath away just leaning there in front of her, smelling all manly and looking at her as if he intended to have her on her own desk while everyone was probably standing outside her office with an ear pressed to the wall, hoping to hear him doing just that – but he was too young for her. That was the bottom line. No matter that they were so sexually compatible she thought he was going to orgasm her to death. She shouldn't have slept with him and she knew it. She tried not to dwell too much on it, but she knew she shouldn't have, nonetheless.

  "I don't know what to say to that. How could you possibly miss someone you only knew for a few days?"

  "Because I like you, and I'm attracted to you, and I know you are to me, too. If you'd stuck around in the morning, as I expected you to, we might have had a great rest of your vacation and something beyond that, I'd dared to hope. That's what I want now. I want more."

  Oh, dear Gawd, forgive her, but so did she!

  Not that she was going to say that to him.

  "I'm no expert at these things – you're my first – and hopefully my last – hookup, but isn't that the nature of the beast? You meet someone; you get busy and then go to your respective corners of the world? I'm sorry to have left without –"

  "No you're not or you wouldn't have done it in the first place."

  His bald, flat – excruciatingly accurate – statement caught her off guard. She opened her mouth to argue with him, but he beat her to it.

  "Don't lie to me, Elle."

  And that simple, softly spoken warning brought her nipples to uncomfortable peaks within her serviceable white bra. "I had a good idea that wasn't something you had a habit of doing. It just didn't seem like you, not that I was going to try to talk you out of it. I try to be gentlemanly, but I'm no saint. I'm not exactly sure what made you feel as if you had to leave me like a thief in the night, even if we had both wanted it to just be a fling." He moved to stand directly in front of her – while she was still sitting, forcing her to look all that long way up at him. Then again, he sat that wonderful ass of his down on her desk, this time much more disturbingly close to her, folding his arms across his chest, which gave her an up-close view of their veininess and musculature.

  "But I don't want a fling with you. I want you. In my bed. Every night." Alt watched the color rise in her cheeks at his words, loving how easily he could do that to her, loving her girlishness and innocence, knowing that he was one of the privileged few who was aware that there was another – much more sensual – side to those traits.

  She hadn't been easy to find. He'd done most of the talking while they were together, not that he hadn't done his best to draw her out, but she'd been understandably wary and stingy with personal details. He had what he suspected was the number to a burner phone that she hadn't even bothered to record an answering system message for, but it had given him a place to start.

  With enough money to spend, anyone could be located. And he had more than enough to devote to finding her, although, admittedly, he was none too happy to have had to do so.

  He'd been pretty pissed when he'd awakened in his room in Florida and she was nowhere to be found. Instead of being able to pull her to him and sink into her, as he much would have preferred to do, he had gotten up, knowing somehow that she wasn't in the room, thrown on whatever clothes were handiest and had stormed down to hers, only to find housekeeping already turning it over.

  The front desk hadn't been any too helpful, only saying that she had checked out early this morning, one of them mentioning that they saw her catch the shuttle to the airport.

  A part of him wanted to say that that was that and go on with his life as it had been before he'd met her.

  But the rest of him – most especially the part of him that was already more than ready and able just being in the same room with her – wanted him to go after her, to find a way to get another chance with her, one way or the other.

  Sometimes being filthy rich had its advantages.

  He'd found her a week ago and had spent the rest of the time deciding what to do, suddenly, uncharacteristically hesitant about what approach to take with her, since she so obviously wanted nothing to do with him.

  It was too important to screw up, so he took his time, wanting to use the advantage of surprise.

  And now, here she was, looking up at him with every wall he'd managed to break down around her less than a month ago nicely patched and rebuilt.

  Not that he was going to let that deter him in the least.

  He leaned towards her, one finger beneath her chin, tipping it up to him as he bent to kiss her, and just when their lips would have met, they heard an authoritative knock at the door.

  A judicious hand at her back prevented her from moving away as she tried to, and he kissed her in a manner that left her no doubt that his passion for her was barely leashed behind his civilized façade.

  When he moved away with severe reluctance, the finger beneath her chin lay over her lips as he said, "Just a moment," more curtly than she'd ever heard from him. He was always overly polite, but apparently, his patience wasn't as limitless as she'd once believed.

  "This is to be continued later. I would be willing to bet that that's your boss on the other side of the door."

  He hated her stricken look at his last sentence. He hadn't mentioned it to scare her.

  "You think Mr. Southgate is here?" She'd only met him once, when she'd gotten the tour after first being hired. He'd certainly never come to her office. Why would he?

  His answer was given as he was rising to retrieve his coat, looking disgustingly dapper as he pulled it on.

  "Don't look so scared. He's not going to fire you because I'm here. And even if he did, I'd just hire you at probably four times the salary, so where's the bad?"

  Elle stood, frowning fiercely up at him. "Why on Earth would you hire me? You don't even know what I do."

  "You're an account executive. You've been with this firm for thirteen years, starting out in the mailroom and working your way steadily up. You get along well with your coworkers, your boss and your clients love you because you're attentive to detail and you follow through on what you say you're going to do. I'm sure we could always use an extremely good account exec somewhere in my organization."

  Because she was frankly stunned by what he'd managed to learn about her, Elle allowed herself to be positioned next to him, by him, before he opened the door, wearing a broad smile, greeting the older man by name and complimenting him on a recent accomplishment, as well as how he ran his company in general.

  He hadn't known that the other man was going to bring half the board and his management team with him, but he transitioned smoothly to shaking hands with everyone he was introduced to, looking them in the eye and saying their names back to them – and then remembering it in later conversation.

  "I don't quite know why you're here…" Mr. Southgate eventually got around to saying somewhat uneasily, since Alt had a tendency to buy any company that struck his fancy, but that just prompted Alt to remember why he was here.

&nbs
p; He made his way through the sea of people that surrounded him to stand by Elle's side, lacing his fingers stealthily but not unnoticeably with hers. "I just dropped by to see Elle." Nothing more than that, but his body language, standing so close to her that their bodies touched, holding her hand even when she was doing her best – as subtly as she could – to detach hers from his, said it all.

  With those simple, seemingly casual moves, there was going to be absolutely no doubt in anyone's mind as to just what kind of relationship they had. He was staking his claim on her subtly, but publically.

  "Well, I hope you can carve out some time to come and see me on the twentieth floor. I'd love to pick your brain."

  That charming, disarming smile melted the brains of every woman and most of the men out there. "Well, I kind of have plans for the two of us this afternoon – with your permission, of course." He back peddled a bit in deference to the man who was her boss – even a thousand times removed, who – they all knew – didn't have much choice in the matter, really, despite how deferential Alt was being.

  "Of course, of course," Mr. Southgate agreed hurriedly.

  "But I'll have my assistant call you and we'll set up a time to get together soon. Would that work for you?"

  He managed to sound as if he really cared whether that was acceptable to the older man, and Elle found herself wondering just how much of that was an act, while everyone around her was falling all over themselves to reassure him that was the most kind, generous thing anyone had ever done for them.

  Then, he excused himself quickly to duck into her office – what for she had no idea. He came out, bearing her coat, which he held for her, going so far as to button it up and even tie the belt, neither of which did she ever do. He brought her hand up to his lips and kissed it while looking deeply into her eyes. She could hear the soft "ohhs," and sighs of envy from the other women in the crowd. Even more so, as he kept possession of her hand long enough to tuck it into his elbow, turning to the assembled to say, "I'm going to steal her away from you for the rest of the day, but I promise I'll be back. I'd love to meet every one of you, and I'm sure something can be arranged where we could get pictures or whatever you'd like when I'm here next. But for the moment, my attention is most definitely elsewhere, and I'm not going to apologize about it."

  More ahhhs and giggles followed, and Elle thought she'd never been more embarrassed in her life. She hadn't been confronted – too much, although a little at the party – with his adoring public, and she wasn't at all sure she liked being at the center of all of this attention.

  Not that it mattered all that much – this was an aberration, just like their time in Florida. If they continued with this…thing they had – and that was a big if – he was going to tire of her soon. It was inevitable. He was going to wake up some morning when the sun was hitting her wrinkles and her slightly graying roots just wrong, and he was going to wonder what the fuck he'd gotten himself into, and that would be that. She just had to be strong enough for the both of them so that they could cut that part out – the wasted time part – except for the sex, of course – and then the inevitable tears, which would all be hers, of course – and just end it here and now.

  She wasn't sure what she expected from him when he escorted her out of the building and into his limo, but it wasn't to be taken to a hole in the wall burger joint. Apparently, he had an in there. Was there anyone he didn't know or who didn't want to be his friend?

  It appeared that he and the owner had known each other for some time, because she greeted him like a long lost brother. "Andrea and I grew up in the same foster home. Homes, plural," he corrected.

  "He gave me the seed money to start this place – just tried to give it to me, no strings attached," she marveled, leaning against him and making Elle feel the first stirrings of jealousy she'd ever encountered, which she viciously battled back. He was not hers over which to be jealous. "I made him invest instead, and he's just now seeing some return on his money."

  Alt smiled up at her beatifically. "I knew you could do it – she used to make me her version of sliders – horrible concoctions that they were – in the middle of the night to cheer me up."

  Andrea shrugged. "I had to use what was in the fridge. It wasn't as if I could go out and buy hamburger at two in the morning as a nine-year-old."

  His faith in her wasn't misplaced, she had to say. Her burger was amazing, with sautéed onions, garlic and peppers, pepperoni and garlic aioli, with an over medium egg on top, left just uncooked enough to make the yoke rich and runny.

  "You better have the same thing as her if you're ever planning on kissing her."

  He'd agreed, and they'd stuffed themselves with pomme frites that were to die for, too.

  They waddled – she much more so than he – out of the restaurant and into a limo, where he told the driver to, "just drive."

  As soon as they were alone, he had her over his lap almost immediately, and she found the skirt of her pretty dress flipped up, panties pulled down, fervently wishing she'd worn pantyhose – despite the heat – because they would have been another – granted, small – layer of defense against him.

  "Alt, no!" she breathed urgently, not wanting the driver to hear her begging him not to spank her.

  "Oh, honey, I'm sorry, but I've been dreaming of the next time I was going to have you over my lap since I awoke – alone." He emphasized his displeasure at the word by crashing his hand down onto her behind. "In my hotel room, that next morning."

  And it went downhill from there as he continued to talk and spank, each word and swat making her feel worse and worse, in different ways.

  "Then I found out that not only had you left my room, but you'd left the entire Eastern Seaboard to get away from me. If I was ever – if I am ever – going to get a complex, it's going to be from you doing things like that."

  It was the first time she'd heard an angry edge in his tone. When she gotten home, she'd spent her free time watching him in everything she could, online – all of the interviews and lectures he'd done – even a TED Talk – and reading everything she could about him like an overwrought fan girl. He was disgustingly pleasant and nice and patient to everyone – not just her – and the only time she was able to unearth any flash of temper was when there was an injustice being done or someone was in danger.

  "Even if all you wanted to do the next morning was to part company on friendly terms and go our own ways, I didn't expect you to turn tail and run – although perhaps, based on your previous behavior, I shouldn't have been so surprised."

  "I left that time because you were spanking me in a limo – just like you are now – although I barely knew you then!"

  His grin was not reassuring in the least. "Yes, well, I hope you know me well enough now that you know this is just a taste of what you're going to get when I get you alone."

  Suddenly, she was beneath him, stretched out on the seat, the buttons of her dress scattered carelessly about them, bra hastily brushed aside, and she discovered abruptly that he had released himself just enough that as he settled between her legs he settled himself right into her.

  A long, throaty moan – which was the only vocalization of which she felt capable at the moment – wasn't quite how she knew she should respond to him, but she couldn't suppress it. She was not quite wet enough to ease his way very much, so she felt every inch of him dragging against that sensitive flesh as he flexed his hips forward, a big hand cupping her jaw and forcing her to keep her eyes on his as he did so.

  As he took her.

  "Fuck." The word came out of her mouth sounding much more like a prayer than an epithet, making him smile down at her. "Please, no, Alt – we –" His hips snapped forward, filling her to the brim with him again "Should –" He pulled himself completely out of her, leaving her feeling strangely bereft. "Talk –"

  Another powerful surge and she couldn't remember what she'd been saying or why or who or where she was. None of that mattered.

  "You have the power
to stop me any time you like," he challenged, planting one hand on either side of her on the seat beneath her and leaning forward and further into her each time.

  She knew that. She remembered what he'd told her to say if she wanted that to happen.

  But the word never passed her lips, and he looked the entire time as if he was quite sure it wouldn't.

  Then he was gone, and she found herself arranged sitting up on the leather seat, facing where he was kneeling on the floor as he pulled her down so that he could drape her knees over his shoulders and bury his face in her crotch.

  An embarrassingly few, short seconds later, she was quite literally howling her pleasure The man remembered exactly what to do to her to coax an excruciatingly hard orgasm out of her in record time.

  But for a man like him, one would never suffice.

  CHAPTER 6

  She didn't see his face again until she slumped over onto the seat, completely wrung out from the sheer force of the unmitigated, uncontrollable pleasure he had subjected her to, non-stop, for she had no idea how many long minutes. That man's mouth was a dangerous weapon when it came to her lady parts, and she was quite thoroughly undone.

  But he was far from done with her, his dick rock hard and an angry purplish red for want of her, having been given a most unsatisfactory taste of her before being rudely pulled out in favor of her satisfaction, and it was demanding its own.

  Ignoring her feeble protests, he guided her limp form off the seat and down onto his cock as he leaned back on his knees, eagerly watching himself disappear into her. A growl originating from deep in the back of his throat as he slowly spread her knees apart around him, forcing her down onto him whether she wanted it or not.

  Sometimes, gravity was a bitch.

  "Ride me, baby," he commanded, one hand at the back of her neck, the other at the small of her back, letting her do what she wanted to a point, but still maintaining control. The combination – along with the challenge – was irresistible to her, as he'd known it would be. "Make me come."