Kate Hewitt - The Billionaire's Fantasy

“Like I said, special delivery.” He sauntered past her into her office, which was the size of a shoe box and felt even smaller with Jaiven in it.

Louise turned to face him, her arms folded. “Why do I think you don’t usually make deliveries for the company you’re CEO of?”

“This is a special circumstance.”

“I wasn’t aware of a special circumstance.” What she was aware of, Louise thought, was how amazing Jaiven looked even in a delivery uniform, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to expose his powerful, brown forearms. He’d placed the package on her desk and was now leaning against it, his arms folded in front of him. How anyone could think he was a mere delivery boy for even a moment was beyond Louise. He radiated both power and charisma.

“The special circumstance,” he told her, “is that I’ve had this fantasy about sex with a certain college professor. In an office. With the door just a tiny bit open.”

Louise’s mouth dried and she shook her head instinctively. Already she could feel the need rushing through her, weakening both her resolve and her knees. “Impossible.”

“Actually, it’s not.” He straightened, walked slowly over to her and hooked a finger around her belt buckle, drew her forward a few unwilling inches. “And this outfit? Totally part of my fantasy.”

She glanced down at her tailored trousers and crisp blouse. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Just tell me you’re wearing that armored underwear again.”

She let out a huff of laughter. “Tell me you don’t actually like control-top granny pants.”

“They are seriously sexy.” Already Jaiven was unbuttoning her blouse, and she wasn’t doing a thing to stop him. The feel of his fingers against her skin felt like water when she was dying of thirst. A few drops dribbled on her lips and she wanted more. Needed more.

As he slid the last button from its hole and parted her blouse, she saw, with a blaze of shock and even excitement, that the door was more than a tiny bit open. Anyone could walk by… Anyone could see…

And somehow that just upped her desire. She never did stuff like this. And maybe she wanted to. Just once, anyway. She wanted to be reckless and wild and wanted .

“Red lace, Louise?” Jaiven glanced down at the skimpy red lace bra she’d bought in a moment of reckless shopping and never wore. “Did you know I was coming?”

“Actually, I just need to do my laundry.”

He started on her belt buckle. “Tell me you’re wearing matching pants.”

“Actually, a thong,” she said with a shaky laugh. She was incredibly embarrassed and yet also impossibly turned on. Jaiven stopped undoing her trousers to glance up at her, his eyes alight with wicked amusement.

“Seriously? You’re going to kill me here.”

“At least you’ll die happy,” she shot back, and he grinned.

“That I will.” He popped the button on her trousers and somehow she found the will to stay his hand. “Jaiven, you can’t be serious. I’m at work .”

He stuck out one foot and pushed the door so it was almost, but not quite, closed. “So?”

He tugged down the zip of her trousers and Louise groaned aloud. “So, it’s unprofessional. I could be fired. Or on the news. Or something.” Except none of that seemed to matter as Jaiven hoisted her easily in his arms and sat her down on her own desk. On top of the pile of essays she’d just been about to mark, her laptop pushed to the side.

And she knew then her protests had been tokens; she wanted this. Wanted to feel reckless and a little bit wicked. He stood between her legs and slid his hands into her hair.

“And you put your hair up. Plus you’re wearing your glasses. I’m going crazy,” he muttered, and then he kissed her.

Kissing him again felt, bizarrely and perhaps stupidly, like coming home. She remembered these lips, knew how good they made her feel. And the last of her protests scattered along with her inhibition as he slid his tongue into her mouth and his hand into her pants.

Louise rocked against him, overwhelmed by sensation. “Secretly,” Jaiven murmured as he kissed her, “you’ve always had a fantasy about getting it on in your office with a delivery boy.”

“Maybe,” Louise muttered. She couldn’t manage more than that. Jaiven was pressing against her and all she could think about was how good he had felt inside her. How much she wanted him there.

Her breathing turned jagged and she pressed back against him, needing him so much it had become a force outside of herself, or at least outside of her brain. Her body had staged a complete coup. She fumbled with the belt of his trousers, tugged at his zip.

“You’re always in such a hurry ,” Jaiven murmured, and somehow she found the sense to string a few words together.

“We’re in my office .”

“ And having that door open turns you on, doesn’t it?” Jaiven said as he stroked her. “Knowing you can be that shameless. That wild.”

“Yes,” Louise gasped, amazed that he had understood that about her and yet unable to say anything more. The ache inside her had become impossible to ignore or suppress. Giving in to temptation, in to him, she tugged down his trousers. He slid on a condom, and then he was inside her, and she wrapped her legs around him, burying her face in his shoulder as she bit him lightly to keep from crying out as he rode them both to a shattering climax.

They stayed locked together for a moment as their heart rates slowed, her breasts flattened against his chest, her legs wrapped around his hips, her body still joined to his.

The door still a little bit open.

Shock, far too delayed, trickled icily through. Good grief, where was her brain? Her sense of self-respect, if anything, and yet…

She felt better than she had since she’d first crept out of his hotel suite. Maybe she really had needed this again. Maybe she needed a fling to rid herself of all the hang-ups of her past. Not the usual method advised by therapists and counselors, but the self-help stuff she’d tried hadn’t worked. She still had trouble trusting men. Trusting herself. And too often she woke up in a cold sweat from a nightmare of Jack’s sneering face…

With that thought, reality started creeping in like a cold dawn mist, edging out the heat and satisfaction she’d felt only moments before. She eased back, wiped the hair from her face as she looked into his sleepy eyes. “I didn’t think you did repeats.”

Jaiven gave her a catlike smile. “Once in a while I make an exception.”

“And you made an exception because…?”

“Because I wanted to. I told you, I had this fantasy…”

“Well, you’ve enacted your fantasy then. Sex with a college professor on a pile of essays, no less.” She scrambled out from underneath him, tidying herself as he disposed of the condom and buttoned up his trousers.

Why did the aftermath feel so sordid, she wondered, when the sex felt so incredible? She pushed a few pins randomly back in the mess that was her hair and turned to him with what she hoped was a smile. “So, no more fantasies.”

Jaiven regarded her thoughtfully. “Actually, I have a few. And I’m betting you do too, even if you like to act as if you don’t.”

Fantasies? She hadn’t had the emotional space to fantasize. “Seriously, Jaiven…”

“I am serious.”

She shook her head. “Look, I thought I told you before. I’m not really into casual sex.”

“Could have fooled me.”

She closed her eyes briefly. “I know. I’m attracted to you. Obviously. But we’ve had our… thing and we should probably just move on. Right?”

“Definitely, when we’re ready to.” He took a step closer to her, and with a little smile on his face he started rebuttoning her blouse. She glanced down, saw she’d done it up completely crooked. And as he tucked her shirt back into her trousers she felt weirdly, stupidly touched.