Out of Hours...Office Affairs: Can't Get Enough / Wild Nights with her Wicked Boss / Bound to the Greek

He held her eyes, and it was the most open and honest contact they’d ever shared. It felt like a fresh start. She smiled, and he smiled back, and all of a sudden all of her lust rolled over her, but this time it was tinged with a desire to ease his unhappiness, to do something without considering the merits and worrying about the consequences.

Could he read her thoughts? It seemed he could, because his eyes dropped to her breasts. She liked that, liked that he’d noticed her that way. She felt her heart skip into overdrive. Had his eyes darkened? Was she getting the message from him that she thought she was? She wasn’t sure. Doubt assailed her. He was so much more experienced than her. For Pete’s sake, he’d slept with half the building. What would he want with her?

“Claire.”

It was an invitation. Wasn’t it? She wanted it to be. Very badly. Because she hadn’t been this hot for someone for a long time. But he was just sitting there, opposite her. What was he thinking? Should she…should she make the first move? Tentative, she leaned forward, placing a hand in front of herself so she could lean even farther across the space that separated her from him.

His eyes were locked on hers, and she could see something come to life in them. He looked hungry and sexy and very intent. He leaned forward. There was an excruciating moment, a moment between breaths, where she waited for his lips to touch hers. And then they were kissing, tentatively at first, no other part of their bodies touching. His lips were warm, and he tasted of mints and she felt a shimmering something unfolding inside her. By some unspoken agreement, they both broke the kiss to stop and stare at each other for a moment. His eyes were very close to hers, and she felt as though she was drowning in the myriad blues of his irises. And then, as if drawn by gravity or magnetism or some force outside of themselves, they came together again. This time she felt a twist of excitement spiral through her as his tongue darted into her mouth for the first time, and then, all of a sudden, it was as though something had exploded inside her. She couldn’t get a enough of him, and she sensed the same greedy hunger in him as he reached for her.

His hands swept up her arms, and a shower of heat followed. She clutched at him, off balance, drunk with lust. His skin was smooth and firm, perfectly sculpted over planes and rounds of muscle. She explored him feverishly, measuring the breadth of his shoulders, racing her fingers through the silky hair on his chest. His hands were tracing her face, running down her neck, brushing across the sensitive skin of her upper chest. She sucked in her breath as his hands slid smoothly down and onto her breasts, his thumbs finding her already-erect nipples through the satin of her bra. He plucked at her breasts with a firm, sure touch, and an answering note sounded deep in her belly and she felt herself tighten. As amazing as it seemed, she wanted him. She wanted him right now.

Jack was nibbling his way down her neck now, and she let out a small, excited moan as he brushed her bra straps down her arms and took one of her taut, aching nipples into his mouth. She bucked instinctively, unable to control the urge to push up into something as a storm of sensation raced through her body. His mouth was so hot, and his tongue so quick and firm…

“Jack, Jack—” she whimpered, unable to tell him exactly what it was she was feeling, or what she wanted.

He simply lifted his head to grin wolfishly at her, his eyes shining with desire, and she found herself grinning back at him, glorying in the absolute need that gripped them both. Bold, she reached for the closure on his pants, even as he pushed her skirt up and pressed a palm against the moist heat between her thighs. She could feel how ready she was, was almost embarrassed by how ready she was, but it only seemed to increase his desire as he helped her push his cargo pants down over his hips. His erection was hard and proud against his belly and she reached for it with sure hands. He was big and beautiful and she wanted him inside her as soon as was humanly possible.

He must have been a mind reader, because no sooner had she wrapped her fingers around his shaft than he was dragging her panties off impatiently. She got lost in space and time for a beat as he swept a knowing hand across her mound, his thumb finding the sensitive nub of her clitoris unerringly. A shaft of pure desire rippled through her, and while she was still recovering, he slid his fingers down to the slippery folds of her inner lips. She clenched in anticipation of his penetration, but he held back as his thumb continued to work her clitoris.

“You want me inside you?” he whispered huskily at her ear, his finger circling her slickness now, teasing.

In answer she raised her hand to her mouth and licked her palm, her eyes holding his as she slid it back between their bodies and slicked her wet hand up and down his shaft, her thumb gliding across the delicate velvet of the head of his penis before sliding down again. As she had before him, he shuddered in response, and she felt a surge of feminine satisfaction as a muscle clenched in his jaw.

“You want to be inside me?” she whispered back, increasing the tempo of her movements, loving the feel of him in her hand.

Suddenly he twisted away from her, grabbing his wallet, finding a condom and putting it on, all before she could protest his leaving. Then she was on her back and he was positioned between her legs, his body weight supported by his formidable arms as he hung above her. There was a split second of thrilling anticipation and then he was plunging inside her, filling her completely, so much so that the base of his shaft ground satisfyingly into her swollen clitoris as he buried his length in her.

She gasped her surprise—it was never, ever this good for her. It was as though he’d been made for her, as though she’d been waiting for this moment for so long that she was on a hair trigger, ready to explode. And then Jack was stroking in and out of her, each sweep driving her crazy. She clutched at his back, his butt, his shoulders, pushed her hips up to him, rocked away, gasped out his name. Straining, wanting all of him, she chased the growing tension inside herself, loving the harsh sound of his breathing as he rode her. Just when she thought it couldn’t get any better, he reached a hand between them and found her clitoris again, swollen with need, ready for him. One, two, three passes of his deft thumb and the tension inside her broke in a cascading wave and she was falling apart in his arms, her muscles clenching around him, her hips bucking, his name on her lips.

It was as though he’d been waiting for her, because no sooner had she dissolved around him than he’d stiffened with his own orgasm, shuddering into her, his face pressed against her neck.

For a long time afterward there was nothing but the sound of their harsh breathing. Jack lay on top of her, still inside her, and she tried to pull the fragmented parts of herself back together.

She felt…consumed. There was no other word for it. Utterly, completely consumed by the magic they’d just created together. The best sex she’d ever had. Ever. Hands down. The most amazing sensual experience of her life.

At last Jack raised his head, and their eyes met. He looked as blown away as she felt, his blue eyes incredulous as he looked deeply into hers. A smile softened the curve of his mouth, and he opened his mouth to speak—

The phone rang. They both stiffened. The phone sounded again, and Jack shrugged ruefully.

“I have to get that.”

“I know.”

He withdrew and rolled away from her in one smooth move, and the sudden loss of skin contact made her feel inexplicably cold and alone. Flushed, she watched as Jack reached for the phone.

“Yeah?” he said, one hand coming up to push the hair back from his forehead. The action hid his face from her momentarily, just when it was very important that she be able to see his face, his reaction. His body seemed tight, defensive. What was he thinking? His hand dropped down at last, and she studied him closely.

He glanced across at her, his eyes flicking down from her face to her still-sprawling body. Suddenly she felt exposed, spread out in front of him with her skirt rucked up, her bra pulled down. With trembling hands she tugged her bra into place and slid her panties on before pushing her skirt down, listening all the while to the cryptic, monosyllabic conversation Jack was having with whomever was on the other end of the phone.

“Great, thanks,” Jack said, at last placing the receiver back on the hook.

He reached for his boxers before he spoke.

“Ted estimates about five minutes,” he reported, and she nodded her understanding.

It was over. They were about to be rescued, and their enforced encounter was at an end. Neither of them said anything as they shuffled into the rest of their clothes. Claire didn’t know what to think or feel. Somewhere, deep in the back of her mind, she was shocked at what had just happened. She felt as though she was swimming in treacle as she tried to analyze her feelings. It had been so good…so intense. She’d never felt anything close to the kind of passion she’d just experienced.

But now it was over, and it was back to the real world, to office politics and maneuvering and executive meetings ad infinitum.

She shot a glance across at Jack, trying to work out what he was thinking. They’d just had the wildest, most uninhibited sex in all the world. Was he feeling as shell-shocked and shaky and amazed as she was?

He glanced across at her, his expression unreadable, and her spirits sagged. Of course he wasn’t. She was kidding herself. He was probably thrilled to be getting out of here. As she should be. What had just happened had been an aberration, an insane one-off that would never have happened outside of this very particular set of circumstances. Hell, it probably happened to him every second day—this was the office stud they were talking about, after all.

“They’re winching us to the nearest floor,” Jack explained belatedly.

They’d pry the doors open there, and then they would go their separate ways. This moment, this incredible, challenging time-out from the normal world, would be gone forever.

Claire found herself reaching into her bag, grabbing one of her business cards and a pen. Urgent, she scribbled her home number on it, not thinking, just feeling. She’d just shared the most extraordinary physical connection with this man. It had been more than great sex—surely she hadn’t imagined it? Surely, he, too, must think that there was something undiscovered here—something with so much potential that it would be crazy to walk away from it?

“Here,” she said softly, and when he met her eyes she saw Jack’s confusion and amazement and she felt a surge of confidence as she slid the card into his hand.

“My home number,” she said huskily.

Before he could respond, the elevator lurched up several feet, and the sound of screeching metal filled the car. Slowly the doors slid open to reveal a crowd of onlookers and rescue workers.

She and Jack were swept up by their various assistants and colleagues, and before she knew it, Jack was heading one way down the hall, and she was being ushered another. She glanced over her shoulder once, but he was listening to something his assistant was saying and he didn’t see her.

It was almost as though it all had never happened. But she remembered the look in his eyes as she slid the card into his hand.

He’ll call, she assured herself fiercely. He has to after what just happened between us….

JACK PROPPED Claire’s business card on his hall bureau as soon as he got home, liking the invitation and potential contained in that small piece of card. It was a no-brainer, really. He’d just had the best sex of his life, and she’d told him to call her. What man wouldn’t want more of what he’d just tasted?

Still, there was an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach, and it wasn’t until he was shucking his clothes in the bathroom and stepping into the shower that he realized he couldn’t possibly call. Because there’d been that moment afterward, when he’d still been inside her. He’d looked down into her eyes and seen so much vulnerability and surprise and amazement in her face. And he’d felt a weird surge of protectiveness and tenderness that had nothing to do with hot sex or physical chemistry….

Every survival instinct he possessed screamed “Run.” And he was used to following those instincts—not for nothing had he remained single all these years.

The bottom line was that Claire Marsden intrigued him and attracted him in a way that made him feel distinctly uncomfortable, and every instinct told him that that was very dangerous to his status quo, hot sex or no hot sex.

Even as he acknowledged this and accepted it, his body protested. How could he walk away from something so hot and intense? His hands curved reflexively as he remembered the weight of her breasts, and he closed his eyes for a brief moment and groaned with frustration as he remembered the taste of her and the smell of her and the feel of her. She’d been pure desire, uninhibited, wild. Tight and wet and so responsive, her body seemingly attuned to his naturally.

He made a disgusted noise as he registered that he was now fully erect and aching for round two with Claire Marsden. Brutal, he switched the shower to cold and stood with gritted teeth under the punishing spray for a full five minutes, trying to purge the memory of her silky skin.

Because it wasn’t just about animal attraction. There was more—that wasn’t the only thing that drew him. He admired her bravery in holding up under the ridiculous conditions Morgan Beck had imposed on her. He thought she was funny and clever. And for some reason, he’d told her about his brother when he hadn’t spoken about Robbie with anyone—family included—for more than a year.

And that was the scary part. Because even now he was wondering if she was okay, wondering what she was thinking. Perhaps she was in the shower, too….

He stepped from the shower and swiped at the water on his chest and arms with a towel. He couldn’t call her, it was as simple as that. Claire had to be off-limits. He liked her, and he couldn’t raise her expectations. He wasn’t a forever kind of guy, and she was a forever kind of woman. It was never a good combination, and he didn’t want to hurt her.