Tasting the Forbidden - A Mayhem Erotica Anthology (2 page)

He licked his lips.

I licked mine, too.

His mouth quirked up into a smirk, most likely knowing he’d caught me in his trap.

A static charge built up around us, infecting the space between. I couldn’t breathe or blink, for fear he’d vanish – because it had to be a dream. A delicious dream I never wanted to wake from.

“Perhaps you do.” My voice was just above a whisper as my hand rose, fingers on his lapel, and seconds from pulling him to me.

I swear he groaned as his lips slipped close. When I realized what my hand was about to do, I removed it from him.

When his eyes opened they were clearer, and he heaved a sigh. “I’ll see what I can do.”

He stood straight, eyes leaving me, jaw tight, and walked back into his office, slamming the door behind him. Fluttering bits of yellow fell from his door, floating down to the ground.

I dropped down into my chair, my knees giving out. My hands rubbed over my face, trying to calm the overheating the man I lusted over had caused.

The sexual tension was all in my head, that was the best explanation, because his actions were anything but logical. With a heavy sigh, I reached for my purse and headed down to get lunch in the thirty minutes that remained until my next assignment.

Chapter 2

D
ays
later, all of the notes had been removed. He kept one, taped to the wall by his computer. It was the one about giving me a raise. It had made him both laugh and smile that day, making it worth the effort – keeping him in high spirits, an unusual occurrence for him. He was usually too busy to have fun.

The strange tension I’d experienced for that brief period dissipated and fell away, returning to normal. It wasn’t all gone though, and it gave me hope maybe Carrie was right.

I heard Shane’s voice in the hall as I poured myself a cup of coffee. A moment later his hand was resting on my lower back and his voice was low in my ear. “What’s on the agenda for today?”

I tensed when I felt his hand initially, but then relaxed, melting into his touch once I realized who I was in contact with. “A lot, per usual.”

“Why do you keep me so busy?”

I turned to say something and was stopped dead in my tracks when I saw him.

Fuck. He was wearing it – the charcoal suit.

It was confirmed in that moment, between his hand and lack of personal space – he was trying to make me combust. Death by arousal.

Do not jump your boss.

It seemed like the longest second to get my mind back in gear to respond.

“Oh no, you do that to me, not the other way around. I just plot it in an eight hour time frame as best I can.” I handed him a cup. “Besides, being busy keeps you out of trouble.”

“
Me
, trouble? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Uh-huh, when I was out for a few days, having my wisdom teeth removed, you met Sophie. Two months later, I went on vacation for a week and you married her.”

He pursed his lips. “Okay, you may be right. But I think this points out you should never leave my side.”

“A girl has to sleep.”

“Yes,
well
…” He cleared his throat, picked up his cup, and walked out.

I was left standing, staring, and begging him to finish what he was about to say.

* * *

All morning I squirmed in my chair – the result of Shane’s actions, suit, and whatever strange erotic mood I woke up in. It was almost to the point of having to go to the restroom to take care of myself. It wouldn’t be the first time I’d masturbated in the bathroom, but in the past it was under the direst of situations.

“Uh-oh, what’s wrong?” Carrie asked as soon as I stepped into the break room. I needed a moment away from my desk.

“I’m screwed.” I slumped down into one of the chairs.

She smiled at me, trying not to laugh. “Not yet, you aren’t.”

“It’s just not fair.”

“What? Him looking so good, and you can’t have him?” She threw me a sympathetic frown – it was the suit. Killer of ovaries everywhere.

“Oh, how I want him. The charcoal suit…I’m envisioning him taking his tie off and tying me to his desk while he explores my body with his tongue before plowing into me.” My head fell to the table as I whimpered, the vision running through my mind again.

That time she did laugh. “Oh, hun, I’m sorry.”

“Every time he walks by my desk I get wet just looking at him. If I end up in close quarters with him, I’m not sure I can keep myself from tackling him.”

“You never know; he might like that.”

I threw my hands up in the air and glared at her. “Not helping! I’m in serious need right now, and I’ll jump a tree if I have too.”

“Laurel.” A shiver ran through me at the familiar commanding tone, zinging right to my clit, making my pussy pulse, forcing me to bite back a moan.

My head rose from the table, and I turned to the door. “Yes, sir?”

Shane’s eyes were hard, glaring at me. His good mood from earlier long gone, leaving me wondering what happened in the ten minutes since I’d last seen him.

“I don’t pay you to sit around talking about men. My office, two minutes.” He turned around and stomped off back toward his office.

My eyes never left his backside. His sour mood didn’t deter my ever-present, all-consuming lust for him. My thighs tightened as I thought about how I’d soon be in his office, looking at him, inhaling his sensual scent.

“Ass,” Carrie said under her breath then snorted. “What was that you were just saying?”

I groaned and pushed off the table, refilling my cup. “Lord, give me the strength to not give in to temptation and maul my fuck-hot boss.”

“Good luck, girly.”

I gave her a wave and headed back to my desk. Shane’s sharp glare glued to me as I sat my coffee down and gathered my notepad. What on earth had happened to make him so mad? It only made things worse for my situation; he was even sexier when he was angry.

Fantasies of him telling me to get on my knees in front of him filled my mind, and I licked my lips in anticipation of something that wasn’t going to happen.

* * *

Monday morning, just before eight, and his stress was already running too high. The weekend had not been relaxing, that much was obvious, when he entered the office in a torrent. He barked orders the second the door opened, startling me, and causing me to spill my coffee all over my clothes. His blue eyes were stormy as they met mine; it was going to be a fabulous day.

I wasn’t sure if it was my imagination or not, but he’d been in an even worse mood than normal over the last few days, ever since he overheard me talking with Carrie. He didn’t know who I was talking about, so why would that matter?

I shook my head. “You’re delusional,” I murmured to myself. He didn’t care.

My attention shifted back to work, and a half an hour later, I was pulled from my task with a hoarse roar of, “Laurel!”

“Y-yes, sir! Coming!”

My hands frantically searched for my notepad and a pen. His gaze was hard as I stumbled up to his desk, tripping on the ever present bump in the carpet. An exasperated sigh left his lips, and I could feel the heat rising on my cheeks. A strand of blonde hair fell from my bun and into my face; my fingers pushed it behind my ear and then fixed my glasses. I grimaced, realizing it was one of those times when he gave me that look that said I was an absolute, hopeless disaster.

He looked me over, quirking his brow. “Did you get dressed in the dark today?”

I stared at him for a moment, confused. His eyes moved down and my gaze followed, widening when I saw the disheveled, misbuttoning of my shirt.

“Oh, shit!” I cursed, standing and turning from him. My fingers flipped the buttons, opening my shirt.

“Close the door!”

“Sorry!” I fisted my shirt, keeping myself decent with one hand and stepped forward, closing the door. I fumbled to fix the order, righting my shirt, while trying to find a hole to crawl into.

Shane groaned behind me, his voice lower than normal. “Fuck, Laurel, giving any asshole who walks by a view? Not the image we want to portray. I don’t want fuckers thinking they can come harass you and try to get into your panties.”

“Sorry, sir.”

“What the hell did you get all over yourself? It’s not even eight thirty! This isn’t like you.”

My gaze hardened. “You surprised me when you slammed the door open, right when I was taking a sip.”

He smirked. “Just like my little squirrel to do.”

My gaze narrowed on him. My misfortune was not for his amusement. “Don’t call me that. You know I hate that stupid nickname.”

It started about a year ago, when his endearment was bestowed, on a day I had way too much caffeine. He said I was skittering about the office in an erratic manner, my brain scattered, and I reminded him of a squirrel trying to cross the road. So, every time from then on if I was scattered or skittish, the name came out to play.

“I can’t help it if you’re jumpy. I should take the caffeine away from you – ban you from the coffee maker.” His fingers drummed on the desk as he continued to take in my attire, not at all fazed by my evil eye.

“I have to have it to keep up with you and your hectic schedule somehow!”

“You should keep extra clothing at your desk.”

My chin jutted out. “I’ll just go home at lunch, and cover up with my sweater until then.”

“Not possible; we have a lunch meeting.”

My eyes widened in horror as I looked at him. “Oh, God, not the one with Welch and Rochester.”

He sighed, his mood changing, losing the playfulness of the previous few minutes. “You’re my assistant,
you
tell
me
.”

“Sorry, guess I’m having a case of the Monday’s. I don’t know where my mind is. I’ll see if I can get a friend to go to my place.” I let out a sigh, shaking my head as I wondered how much worse the day could get.

“Where do you live?”

“Nora.”

“We’re meeting not far from there; we’ll stop by on the way. Five minutes, no more.”

I nodded in agreement. “Yes, sir. Thank you.”

“It’s not like I can have you going in that disaster.” He waved at my clothing and shook his head. I caught it though, the little smile that had been hiding for days. For some stupid, pitiful reason – it made my stomach flop and my chest flare up with warmth and feelings I didn’t want to name.

The morning flew by, and before I knew it, I was in the passenger side of Shane’s Mercedes and we were headed north. I gave him directions to the little 1950s cottage I rented in the area known as Nora. We pulled up, and I jumped out, remembering his five minute warning.

“This place is so small!” His eyes were wide in abject horror as he looked around. “I mean, it’s cute, very much you, but tiny. Don’t I pay you enough to have a bigger place?”

I headed into my bedroom, walking to the closet to find a new shirt. It didn’t escape my notice he followed me in. I tried not to think too much about him wetting his lips, hands flexing at his side, as he looked at my bed. It was just my imagination – had to be.

“Yes, you do, but I have student loans I’m trying to pay off ASAP. I don’t want them over my head forever. I’d like kids one day, and they’re expensive.”

His eyebrows rose in surprise. “You want kids? How many?”

I opened the door to my tiny closet and rifled through my clothes as I considered how to answer him. I found something presentable, yanking it off the hanger before he could pick apart my bedroom furniture or decorations. My legs wobbled as I stepped away and toward my bed, new shirt in tow. His presence so close to where I dreamed about him had me so uptight and frazzled, that without thinking, I stripped out of my dirty one. “Oh, I don’t know. Two sounds like a good number, maybe three. I’m one of four, and that’s a little too much for me.”

Suddenly, in my mind, I was wondering what in the hell I was doing, changing in front of him, but he was the one who walked into my bedroom.

“Do you have a father for these children?” His body shifted toward me, leaning against the bedframe. I could feel his eyes on me, burning my skin. “I guess I don’t even know if you have a boyfriend.”

As I undid the buttons on my new shirt before putting it on, I resisted the urge to tell him I wanted
him
to be the father. That would have been a little weird. Though it would match the day I was having, standing half naked in a white lace bra in front of the man I desired above all others.

“No boyfriend. No prospects really. My life belongs to you.” The words popped out and my face flamed when I realized how it could be taken. Given my state of undress, and the innuendos flying out of my mouth, he probably thought I’d lost half of my IQ when I spilled that coffee on myself. Why else would I be saying things that sounded nothing short of interested in him? I swallowed hard.