Page 20 of Pure Abandon

Does he know how wet he makes me?

He will soon.

His mouth caresses my shoulder as his hands graze slightly over my nipples, tempting, teasing and causing me to shiver with pleasure. I press my back into his groin and beg with my body to be taken. My core throbs with anticipation.

I want it.

I need it.

His hand wraps around my neck, holding me still as the other travels back down to my sex. I whimper at the feel of his hands hovering just outside my entrance.

I yearn for it… crave it. I feel a burning inside my belly and it builds bigger and bigger, higher and higher. I can feel it…almost taste it…

I pop up suddenly.

Oh my God! Did I just have a sex dream?

It was so real, so vivid, and so… delicious. I felt every yearning and pleasurable movement. I’ve never had a dream like that before. It was so lifelike. I want to go back to sleep and continue. I nearly exploded in my sleep. Who would have known my body could do that?

Do many women have dreams like that? I should ask Malory at lunch tomorrow. Oh, she will have a field day with that dream. She lives for stuff like this. I can certainly share the vivid imagery of that room, the sensation, the feeling of how he felt beside me.

Maybe I shouldn’t tell Malory. I could hold on to this story. While I wouldn’t mind telling her about the dream, she will want to know one major detail that I’m not willing to share.

No, she’ll think something is up. I know people are already trying to figure out the new girl at the office. Malory and I are friends, but who else is she friends with that she might share my story with? And if someone else knows, who will they tell? I know how office gossip goes. It’s hard to pass up.

No, I won’t tell anyone about my dream tonight. I will not tell anyone I had the most mind-blowing sexual experience in my sleep or that the man who left me wanton and begging for more was Alexander Asher.

I’ve spent a good part of my morning avoiding most people in the office by having meetings outside of the building. I know everyone heard my obnoxious outburst at Asher on Friday and are all gossiping about it. They’re trying to figure out how I got into it with the big boss. That’s what offices do. Even I’ve been privy to my fair share of water cooler conversations.

Reluctantly, I told Malory I’d meet her for lunch, so we take a seat in a corner booth at Café Dell’arte. I know she wants to dish on some office gossip. My concern is I’m the main course.

“You seem to be fitting right in.” Malory takes a bite of her salad, looking exquisite in a sheer black button-down with matching camisole underneath. Her skinny black pants show off her exquisite figure.

“I can’t say last week was easy. Sparring with Heather is no easy feat,” I murmur. Just thinking about how I won’t have to face her every day calms my nerves, but having to deal with Asher is another story. I don’t know what is worse.

“I heard Heather isn’t the only one you’re sparring with.” Her teeth crunch down on a ripe cherry tomato.

Here it goes.

“Wow…” I pretend to look at my nonexistent watch. “That took you all of fifteen minutes!”

Malory sips her wine and gives me a quizzical look through the glass. “The man is unnerving. I know. I’ve worked with him for the last three years, since he bought Erik’s company. It doesn’t hurt he’s irresistibly handsome.” She pauses to gauge my reaction.

I turn my head to the side and take a sip from my water glass as I sneak a look around the restaurant. I know she’s reading my expression, so I’m trying to act as cool as the cucumber in my salad.

“Oh, come on, you prude. He’s delicious and you know it. I thought you knew who he was when you took the job, but when I found out you’d never seen him before, I was dying to know what your reaction would be.”

“And what was my reaction?” I ask.

Malory lowers her eyes, her brow perked up as she speaks slowly, almost intrigued by what she’s about to say. “You absolutely fell apart.”

I shake my head. “Seriously, Malory. I had a fight with the boss, but now everything is resolved.”

I’m dying to tell Malory about what really went down Friday. From the car ride to the argument and the roses that were sent to my office, it was the craziest day I’ve ever had at any job, and she is the person I want to talk to most.

Malory and I used to have a great rapport where we would gossip about everything and anything that happened at work. Back then, we were colleagues. And while she always held a position above me, she was never this high on the company food chain. Nattering with the vice president about my own personal indiscretions is a huge no-no.

I’m also dying to probe Malory for information, but I don’t want her to know I’m interested in anything having to do with Alexander Asher. Instead, I change the course of the conversation.