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  I sit back down beside her, cross one ankle over my knee, and sling my arms over the back of the couch. “What were you thinking about the bossiness and the spanking? Besides the fact that you really fucking like it?”

  She grunts and fans away the smoke. “It’s like, you expect more from me. Because you push me to be more, to be better, when everyone else has always just let me glide by on my money and sweet smile. And you keep demanding—what?”

  I’m listening to her, and I agree with her, but I can’t stop looking at her lips. “Are you wearing panties?” She’s wearing the same dress she wore to work, and I wonder if she went home and put on underwear before going to her parents’ place.

  “No. Are you listening to me?”

  “Yes. Take off your dress.”

  She stubs out the joint and leaves it on the table. I think she’s going to object, but then she stands in front of me. “You take it off.”

  That’s not typically how this goes, but I want her naked so bad that I’m willing to bend, just this once.

  I stand and untie the belt at her waist. Then, I start at the top button of her dress shirt, undoing them one at a time. Of course, I really want to rip them away, but foreplay is about anticipation, and I want her begging for it.

  When the top of the dress falls open, I slide it off her shoulders and it falls to the ground, pooling at her feet. She’s left in her bra and nothing else, and is exactly as beautiful as I imagined her being. Her hips are wide and round, and her stomach is soft.

  Leaning down, I swipe my finger through the pie and then drag a line of key lime down her neck, around both nipples, over her stomach, and ending between her legs. Then, I trace that line with my mouth, licking it off her, pausing at each nipple to roll them between my teeth and give them gentle tugs that have her gasping and clawing at my arms.

  I bend, following the line down, and when it gets too low, I drop to my knees and look up at her.

  “I’ll have you know,” I say, looking up at her between the valley of her breasts. “I don’t kneel for anyone. Only for you.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Josie

  “I don’t kneel for anyone. Only for you.”

  His words send a shiver up my spine. This is exactly what I meant when I talked about respect. He demands more from me, but he gives me more, too. Things he doesn’t give anyone else.

  He takes my hips and presses me down onto the couch, spreading my legs and positioning himself between them. He nips the sensitive flesh on the insides of my thighs, and then puts one hand on my pubic bone, holding me open as his eyes peruse my most private places. I should feel embarrassed, but I don’t. I am his, completely at his mercy.

  He owns me.

  And he proves it when his mouth closes over my clit and he sucks so hard I scream, the sound echoing through the empty office. I wonder briefly if there are cameras, and then forget all about it when his fingers join his mouth, and I lose all track of everything except the unbelievable sensation building inside of me, like flames lapping at my insides.

  I’m on the edge, my fingernails digging into the leather couch, when he stops and looks up at me.

  “Don’t fucking come,” he growls.

  “What?” I pant.

  “I haven’t told you that you could come.”

  “Oh my God,” I groan.

  “I want you to beg for it,” he says, lazily stroking a finger from top to bottom, brushing against me just enough to keep the fires stoked.

  “Please,” I say, certainly not above begging.

  “Say my name.”

  “Please, Ben.”

  “Please what?”

  I lean up on my elbows and glare down at him. “Please make me come, Ben, for the love of—”

  But I don’t finish because he dives back in, devouring me. The heat spills over, spreading into my limbs, consuming me as I scream his name over and over, my head rolling back and forth against the leather couch, my hips bucking against his mouth.

  I swear I black out, and when I come to, he’s standing in front of me and there’s a damp pool between my legs.

  “Assist me, assistant,” he says with a wicked grin. “We’re not done yet.”

  That’s for damn sure. His shirt goes first. After I take a second or two to worship his rock-hard abs, my trembling hands fumble with his belt buckle and then slide his pants and his underwear down over his hips. His cock springs forward, long and hard and thick, and right at mouth-level.

  He must see what I’m thinking because he gives me a half-smile and shakes his head. “Not today. Someday, I’ll fuck that sassy mouth, but right now I want your sweet pussy wrapped around my cock.”

  Then he pulls me to my feet and spins me around so I’m on my knees on the couch, leaning over the arm. In the window, not only can I see the lights of Oakwood City, but I can see my reflection, and him behind me, fisting his cock, getting into position. The sight is enough to send a pulse of pleasure between my legs without even being touched.

  I feel him pressing against me, and suddenly, he sinks inside of me with one thrust. His hands grab my hips so hard that I’m sure he’ll leave bruises but then he stills and leans over me, brushing my hair away from my face.

  “What do you want?” he asks in a gruff voice.

  I let my head fall, my forehead pressing against the cool leather. “Fuck me.”

  “What’s the magic word?”

  “Please. Please fuck me. Please press me against the window and fuck me until I come again.”

  I can hear the smile in his voice when he says, “Good girl.”

  He drives himself home inside of me over and over again, the sound of our slapping flesh erotic and loud in the quiet office. Then, he wraps a hand in my hair and pulls so that I’m forced to sit back, my back to his chest. His hand goes around my neck, squeezing lightly.

  “Open your eyes,” he commands.

  I do, and I see our reflection in the window, his eyes burning.

  “Touch yourself.”

  I obey, eagerly reaching between my legs while his other hand wraps around my belly, holding me up as he continues to move inside of me. My fingers gather moistness from our joining and circle my throbbing clit. As my orgasm builds, his grip on me tightens.

  Remembering something, I open my eyes and find his in the reflection. He’s still watching me. “Please,” I say.

  He smiles wickedly, and I can’t believe he held that smile back for so long. “Please what?”

  “Please let me come.”

  “Good girl.” He releases me and I fall forward again.

  Before I can even brace myself, he’s pounding into me, his balls hitting my clit feeling even better than my fingers. It’s only a few more seconds when I’m screaming his name, my core clenching around his hard length. He doesn’t slow, but it’s only another couple of thrusts before he’s pressing himself deep inside of me, grunting his own release, filling me with his warmth.

  We collapse onto the couch, him on top of me, his cock still inside of me, his cum leaking onto my leg.

  His—wait. Shit. I buck out from beneath him, unceremoniously throwing him off of me.

  “What the hell?” he asks, landing on his knees as I sit up, warmth gushing between my legs onto his nice leather couch.

  “Condom. We didn’t use a condom.”

  He looks down at himself as if just realizing it, too. Blame it on the weed, or the booze, or whatever, but—

  “It’s OK,” he says. “I’m clean.”

  My brow furrows. “So am I.”

  “Are you on birth control?”

  I nod. I got the ten-year IUD before leaving for Europe.

  “Then we’re all good,” he says, pulling me into his arms. “I’m not fucking anyone else, and neither are you.”

  I cuddle up against him on the couch. We’re sweaty, naked, and gross, but neither one of us seems to care. “Are you asking me to go steady?”

  “I’m not asking. I’m telling.”


  I turn my head, looking back at him. “So romantic.”

  “I never said I was romantic.”

  “You didn’t have to. You’re just a big, romantic teddy bear in denial.”

  He growls, sounding not unlike a bear, and his mouth closes over mine as his hips thrust against my ass and his fingers walk down my stomach to bury themselves in the curls between my legs. We don’t talk again after that, not for a long, long time.

  Chapter Twelve

  Ben

  I haven’t had a woman other than my housekeeper in my house for years, but that night, I take Josie home and fuck her for the third time, nice and slow in the middle of my big, plush mattress. She falls asleep tucked against me, and I spend hours just staring at her, wondering what the hell I’m even doing.

  Sex, for me, has always been a means to an end. Another way for me to exert control. I’ve never lingered, have rarely gone back for more. But there’s something about Josephine Kline.

  Her obedience, always offered with a hint of sass.

  Her delectable figure.

  The dreams in her eyes that somehow haven’t died even though no one supported her or encouraged her or pushed her.

  Josie makes me break all my rules, and that’s dangerous for a guy like me, in my position. I should wake her up, kick her out, trash my collection of her panties, and try to forget all about her.

  But then she stirs, and in her sleep, reaches out for me, pulling me closer. And I know I’m done for. It’s stupid to even think I can rid myself of her now.

  The next morning, I have Saul take her home. Before she gets in the car, though, I grab her wrist and pull her back against me.

  Tucking her messy hair behind her ear, I whisper, “Eight o’clock. Or else.”

  Her smile tells me she might be a little late on purpose.

  Saul comes back for me an hour later and we make our way through the morning commute. I check my emails in the back seat, and when my father calls, I send him to voicemail. Josie told me about what happened with her dad, and it made me realize one thing—while we owe a lot to our fathers, the original Oakwood Boys, their opinions don’t really matter. They’re outdated and old-fashioned and just fucking wrong sometimes.

  I draft an email to my attorney to request a meeting—it’s time to figure out a way to buy my dad out of Talbot Investments, to get out from under his thumb. And then later, I’ll talk to Josie and figure out what she wants to do, and then we’ll make it happen. Just the two of us, with or without her dad’s support. I just hope Tobias doesn’t try to kill me. If anyone can go toe-to-toe with me, it’s him, but I can’t imagine he doesn’t want his sister to be happy.

  And that, I’m surprised to find, is what I want, too.

  When Josie struts into my office at 8:06 wearing a white dress with a zipper up the front and sky-high black heels, I want desperately to bend her over my desk and show her who’s boss, but Dev is with her.

  “I thought Josie could sit in on our morning briefing,” Dev says, glancing between us.

  “Of course,” I agree.

  The two of them sit across from me in the guest chairs in front of my desk. As smart as she is, Dev is somehow oblivious to the tension between us and carries on as if I’m not looking at Josie like I’m the hunter and she’s the prey. At one point, Josie spreads her legs just wide enough so that I can see she’s wearing black panties like the bad fucking girl that she is. I want to rip them off of her.

  But it’s like this all day—every time I see her, we’re surrounded by other people. Lawyers and assistants and receptionists. It’s the ultimate exercise in self-control. She goes to lunch with Dev, and Trevor from Marketing spends an hour at her desk showing her how to use some program on her computer. Watching her laugh at his jokes and lean over his shoulder as he shows her something on the screen makes my blood boil.

  I’m a jealous fucking teddy bear.

  And I think she knows exactly what she’s doing.

  Dev catches me watching them, not that I’m being inconspicuous about it. She leans against the wall beside my door and looks over at Trevor and Josie.

  “Hm. They look nice together, don’t they?” she asks.

  I turn my narrowed eyes on her, and she laughs.

  “I’m just kidding,” she says. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  She shakes her head and looks down at her tablet. “Your dad has convened a board meeting in an hour.”

  “My dad? Why?”

  “He didn’t say.”

  This is exactly why I need to get him out of here. I’m supposed to be meeting with my attorney in the morning, but it feels suddenly like it’s not soon enough.

  An hour later, it’s time for the meeting. I take the stairs instead of the elevator, trying to work off some of my pent-up energy. Before I can open the door on the correct floor, though, Josie appears in the stairwell, having pushed through from the other side. Finally, my luck seems to be improving.

  “Oh,” she says, her eyes wide when she sees me.

  I grab her around the waist and press her against the concrete wall. Somewhere below us, a door opens and slams, but I can’t hear any footsteps. Hardly anyone takes the stairs anymore, anyway.

  “You’ve been very naughty today,” I growl at her, my dick swelling in my pants.

  “I know,” she says with a sly smile.

  “You want me to punish you?”

  She nods, chewing on her bottom lip. God, she’s perfect for me. I didn’t think there was anyone like her out there in the world, but here she is. And she’s mine.

  The zipper on her dress is pulled up to just above her breasts, and I tug at it. It gives way slowly, revealing her breasts, then her stomach, then the waistband of her black thong. I slide it all the way down until the dress falls open, exposing her. When a door opens below us, neither of us makes any move to cover her. Footsteps pound up the stairs, and then another door opens, and we’re alone again.

  I push aside her panties and circle her swollen clit, thrusting two fingers inside of her. She’s already so fucking wet. She moans, lifting her hips to try to increase the pressure, but I withdraw.

  “Take them off,” I command.

  She knows exactly what I’m talking about, and there’s no more denying me. She shimmies out of her panties and hands them to me. I tuck them in my jacket pocket and check my watch. The meeting already started, but they’ll just have to fucking wait. I unzip my pants and pull out my throbbing cock. Then, I grab one of her legs and wrap it around my waist, positioning myself at her entrance.

  I thrust inside of her at the same time my hand comes down and connects with her bare ass in a loud smack. She cries out and then clamps a hand over her mouth.

  “No.” I tug it down. “I want to hear you.”

  I pound into her, her back scraping against the wall, her breasts bouncing, her heel digging into my ass. My hand wraps in her hair and tilts her head back, and I suck on her neck, marking her. I don’t care. I want everyone to know she’s mine. I want her to wear my mark. To smell like me. For my cum to be dripping down her legs so that fucking Trevor doesn’t get any ideas.

  The orgasm builds quickly, and I can tell she’s close, too. I reach between us and rub her clit, and then she detonates. We come together, our yells echoing in the empty stairwell, her pussy milking my dick dry as I spill inside of her.

  I pull out and stand her back on her feet, both of us panting and smiling.

  “I needed that,” I admit to her before I can stop myself.

  “You and me both,” she says, zipping up her dress.

  I tuck myself back in my pants and check my watch. I’m ten minutes late. “I have to go,” I say, kissing her on the forehead. I pause, my hand on the door.

  She looks back at me. “What?”

  “Let me take you to dinner tonight.”

  Her smile lights up her face. “OK.”

  “
Six o’clock?”

  She nods.

  “I’ll have Dev make reservations.”

  I’ve already emailed Dev as I walk down the hall to the boardroom, only to find the meeting already adjourned.

  Spotting my father, I snag him by the sleeve. “What happened?” I ask.

  He turns to me. “Good of you to join us.”

  “What happened?” I repeat through gritted teeth. I don’t have time for this bullshit today.

  His smile turns my heart to stone. “I sold my shares in the company.”

  “You did what?”

  “I know you already had something in the works. I know you were going to try to buy me out. It’s time for me to retire anyway. The beaches in Bali are calling my name.”

  Bali, only one of the hundreds of places he never took me to in my childhood. Time to fire my attorney if his office can’t keep fucking attorney-client confidentiality. My brow furrows and I release his arm. “So, you beat me to it?”

  He nods, still smiling. Nothing has ever made me more nervous than that look on his face. Then it hits me. “Sold it to whom?”

  “A very good businessman. Someone who will keep you in check.”

  I’ve never hit my father, but damned if I don’t want to slam his smug face into the wall. “Who is it?”

  “Maximilian Hawthorne.”

  I freeze, refusing to react before I can get myself under control.

  I have to be cool, calm, calculated.

  No emotions.

  No weaknesses.

  But dammit, what the hell? Fucking Max Hawthorne. Next thing I know Talbot Investments will be a division of the Hawthorne Group.

  “You can’t tell me that this makes any logical sense,” I hiss at my father, unable to hold it back anymore. “You did this just to spite me.”

  “There’s no room for emotion in business, Son. I thought you knew that.” He leans forward and pinches the collar of my shirt, sucking his teeth disapprovingly. I look down and see a smear of red lipstick staining my shirt. “But I can see I was wrong.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Josie

  While Ben is in his board meeting, I have some downtime, so I pull my journal from my oversized purse and turn to a blank page. Across the top, I write, “JOSIE’S FIVE-YEAR PLAN.” Beneath that, I start to scribble: