Heavy Issues Part 23

As she finally reached him, she brushed her lips over his. She was going to step away from him, but he held her head and deepened the kiss. She tasted so good he could spend all his life attached to those lips and never get tired.

The truth of the matter was he could spend all his life attached to this woman and never get tired. With her by his side, he was...happy. And scared s.h.i.+tless. It wasn't only how much he wanted her, but how much he wanted from her that terrified him. He wanted so badly to hang on to Christy, but he had no illusions about his capabilities in that area. Basically because he had no clue how to navigate these strong feelings he had for her. At any given moment, he could do something without even realizing it and send all this to h.e.l.l.

She perched on his desk and motioned to her phone. "That was Mike, by the way. Mrs. Wilkinson is back and is driving him insane. She's found out the book cards and the clients' info cards are gone, and she wants the crew to go through the trash containers in search of them."

He chuckled softly. "I take it she's freaking out big-time about tomorrow's inauguration."

Christy rolled her beautiful eyes. "Like you wouldn't believe. I tried to sell her the virtues of e-books, but every time I explain to her managing fewer paper copies is a good thing, she looks at me, horrified."

"She worries because things are spinning out of her control." And didn't he know how she felt.

Christy blew at her bangs. "No need to worry. Everything is ready; I've seen to it." She looked around, then back at him. "So what are you doing?"

"Working," he said with regret. He'd stopped going to the library some days ago. He had other jobs lined up he couldn't postpone any longer. Not to mention the couple of demolition consultancies out of state he'd been dragging his feet about-rescheduling, in fact. He didn't want to leave Christy, not even for a couple of days. "You?"

She shrugged. "I'm free. I just thought I'd pa.s.s by to say hi."

"Ah yes, I forgot you don't have a real job, that you're on a sabbatical." He loved teasing her about that.

She c.o.c.ked an eyebrow, her witch eyes sparkling. "Says who? Maybe I've spent all morning going from place to place, trying to get hired. Maybe I'm here to apply for a job. Poor unemployed girl searching for an opportunity."

He crossed his arms and braced his legs apart. "Really? I could maybe offer you one. Which kind of job are you interested in?"

"I don't know," she said, her gaze roaming over his whole body, sizing him up. "The glorified all-around intern? I'm quite rusty, because it's been a long time since I had a boss to please, but I could give it a try. I'm highly motivated."

He went instantly hard.

He'd always felt that being seriously involved with someone would kill his libido, but he'd been wrong. So wrong. He loved getting to know this woman, learning to recognize her moods, the different tones of her voice, what made her tick in the bedroom-and outside of it.

He'd go to h.e.l.l and back before admitting it out loud, but even her choice of music had grown on him, die-hard Metallica fan that he was.

"Extremely motivated," she added.

"Extremely motivated, huh?" he repeated, a smirk on his face. "I don't know. Do you think you can handle me? I'm a very demanding boss."

Her eyes were full of s.e.x. It was a great look on her. "I bet you are, but I'm desperate for work. I'll do anything. Work extra hard."

"Are you trying to seduce me, Miss Goody Two-shoes?"

"What if I am? And it's poor unemployed girl to you; don't mess up my role-playing."

He laughed. "Really? Okay, let's see what I can do about that. Do you have any marketable skills I could find...useful?"

She blushed but pushed on. "Oh, I a.s.sure you I have plenty of skills, and you won't be disappointed. And what I don't know, I'm eager to learn."

"Which position do you have in mind to start?"

"Position? Well, I'm a firm believer in working my way up from the ground." And she dropped to her knees between his legs.

Holy s.h.i.+t.

"Christy?" he asked as she scooted down his desk and began unb.u.t.toning him. "What the f.u.c.k are you doing?"

She smirked. That was a stupid rhetorical question if he'd ever uttered one. "Showing you how handy it would be to have me around in the office. I'm a great communicator. Perfect oral skills."

He laughed. Christy had gotten more daring, but this he hadn't expected.

While she unzipped him, he stared at her beautiful face, at those big, warm, chocolate eyes and those sultry lips being mischievously licked at the moment by that pink tongue, and his heart jumped into his throat. He caressed her cheekbone with the back of his finger, and she leaned into him, smiling. She was so sweet. How did he manage to get so lucky?

Christy got him in hand and petted him, brus.h.i.+ng her lips all over his throbbing shaft, teasing him with her tongue and her teeth, his b.a.l.l.s growing painfully tight. He tucked her hair behind her ears, watching as she worked him, his hips lifting of their own volition. From the corner of his eye, he saw her reaching inside her oversize handbag, but then she parted those sweet lips of hers, took him deep into her mouth, and he forgot everything but the gorgeous woman in front of him, currently closing her throat around his shaft. His body tensed, a groan escaping him.

She cupped his sac, pressing something against it, and then out of the blue his b.a.l.l.s were vibrating and he was praying to all G.o.ds he didn't come on the spot.

Cheeks hollowed, Christy pulled out slowly, suckling and swirling her wicked tongue around his aching erection, a c.o.c.ky look on her. "Like it? I thought I should add new toys to your infamous drawer. Got this bullet from the pleasure party Elle organized for Tate."

"Pleasure party?" he asked, confused, his sluggish brain not cooperating.

"Your aunt was there too. And Mrs. Patty." He must have looked horrified, for she nodded. "Yes, I know. Don't ask specifics. I won't tell. Better this way."

On that he was going to follow her lead. Besides, all his blood supply was in his crotch. He was barely able to breathe, let alone ask questions.

She took the devilish device and glided it up his shaft to his throbbing head as she licked his sac. Oh h.e.l.l, he was so going to spill his load. She kept the toy on his slit as she licked her way up and then pulled him into her mouth, the d.a.m.n bullet still vibrating against his opening. He threw his head back and groaned.

Then someone knocked on the door and entered. He froze.

"Cole, I went out to run an errand, but I'm back," said his secretary, Marcy, from the door.

Thank f.u.c.king G.o.d for the big, closed-in desk he had. Christy was hidden from view by the wood panels encasing her.

"S-sure," he said, barely getting the word out. Christy was laughing softly, because he could feel it against his c.o.c.k. Witch. She pulled out, took the bullet away from his head, and when he thought she was going to stop and wait for his secretary to leave, she placed the bullet against the strip of skin between his b.a.l.l.s and his a.s.s and deep throated him.

Oh s.h.i.+t. Her mouth was so d.a.m.n hot it was burning him alive. He gripped the arms of the chair and tried to look as if he weren't having a ma.s.sive stroke.

Yeah, good luck on that one.

"Are you okay?" Marcy asked, frowning. "You seem...tense. Are you sick? You're sweating."

His jaw was so stiff he was going to crack his teeth. He tried to smile.

She took a step toward him. "Do you need-"

"No," he all but yelled. "I'm fine...just busy. Close the door on your way out...I don't want to be disturbed. Buzz me only if there's a major crisis, like World War III."

"Sure."

The second she closed the door behind her, Cole growled. Literally growled.

"You like playing, don't you?"

She smiled at him with a mixture of mischief and innocence that all but robbed him of breath and sanity.

"No, I just want to make you feel good."

Her eyes were full of pa.s.sion and tenderness, and his heart swelled at the sight of this perfect woman on her knees, ready to give him pleasure. Loving him with her hands and mouth. Before he could react, she sucked his crown harder, and his b.a.l.l.s drew tighter, already boiling with his c.u.m. f.u.c.k, she was killing him. Unraveling him by the second.

He wanted to let go and lose himself in her sweet ministrations, give himself into her care, but she made him feel so much he feared if he didn't draw back from that precipice, he'd explode into a thousand pieces and wouldn't be able to pull himself together ever again.

Cole gripped her by her hair and wrestled back control, f.u.c.king her mouth in controlled, short movements, then forcing her to release him.

"My turn now to play."

Not bothering with her complaints, he brought her up on her feet. Nudging her legs open with his thigh, he bent her over his desk. She gasped and turned her head to him, her eyes big and frantic, but he ignored her trepidation, and lifted one of her legs onto the desk. Yanking her soaked panties aside, he thrust into her, those tender p.u.s.s.y lips of hers welcoming him. She trembled in his arms while he rammed into her, pus.h.i.+ng her body forward with each plunge. Her nails were digging into the desk, her gaze was fixed on the door, and she was panting. He could tell panic and arousal were merging, the adrenaline racing through her, enhancing her senses, feeding her excitement.

Without slowing the rhythm, he leaned over her and, fisting her hair, pulled her head back until he could kiss her. Then he took the vibrating bullet still in her hand and pressed it against her c.l.i.t. She cried out, her whole body shuddering as suddenly her o.r.g.a.s.m overtook her.

He gritted his teeth and tried to block out the feel of her flesh convulsing around him. He had to detach. No way was he coming. Not yet.

"You'll come for me a couple of times. Then I'll come shoved deep into your throat."

She whimpered. He knew Marcy wouldn't barge in on them because she never came into the office if he'd specifically asked her not to, which was the only reason he was allowing himself to f.u.c.k Christy on his desk, but Christy didn't know that. For all she knew, Marcy was a second away from opening the door, and in spite of how exposed she had to be feeling, she wasn't cowering away.

She was so giving. So generous. Letting him get away with his macho games. Always agreeing to his demands, no matter how over the top. He wanted to lean down to her and cradle her in his arms, kiss her gently, but he was too raw for that. He slammed into her, f.u.c.king her in hard, fast strokes, legs locked, teeth clenched. Holding back. As her core tightened again, she lifted up and reached for him.

"Let go, Cole. Come with me," she whispered a second before her breath caught and her p.u.s.s.y clamped down on him like a velvet vise, pulling at him in tight, rhythmic contractions. He tried to pull back and remain detached, but there was no defense he could put up against this woman. No protective wall. She got him. She saw too much.

With his o.r.g.a.s.m gathering at the base of his spine, it was all he could do to hold on to Christy and not lose consciousness. He closed his eyes, buried his face in her shoulder, and obliged her.

When his legs stopped shaking, he pulled out of her tight clasp and pressed his forehead against her nape. After several failed attempts, he managed to pull himself together enough to get his throat working.

"I like your oral skills. Very...advanced. High-tech," he said, his voice hoa.r.s.e. "You're so hired. Don't even dream about going to any other job interviews."

Before he could halt her, she turned around. Her eyes, full of affection and tenderness, saw straight through him into his soul. He might be fully clothed, but he'd never felt more naked in his life.

"Sure thing, boss," she said with a grin and hugged him.

G.o.d, he was shaking. Still feeling all too raw, Cole wrapped her in his arms and hid his face in her hair, his chest tight, his chuckles threatening to transform into something else altogether.

For all his macho tripping and theatrics, he was at her mercy. Eating out of her hand.

Chapter Fourteen.

Christy glanced around, extremely pleased with herself. The library's reopening had gone as smooth as silk. In the three hours the event lasted, probably every living soul in town had pa.s.sed by.

The small ceremony with the mayor and the town's authorities had taken half an hour, after which Mrs. Wilkinson had proceeded to entertain kids in the kiddie corner, where they had a blast. She might be something of a tight a.s.s, but she was great with the little ones.

The romance author from Boston had read several chapters of her new book, which was a total success. They'd even gotten a bunch of people asking to sign up for the romance reading club, which, if Christy had any say, would transform into an e-club.

Cole had been close by all the time, helping out, which meant of course that Rose had been around too, sneering at her. Since officially declaring open war on her, and apart from that flimsy respite she got when she and Cole had stopped seeing each other in public, Botox Barbie and her minion crew had been unbearable to have around. They were jealous. She could understand. She was getting laid by Cole and they weren't, but it was time to get over it and move on. Other fish in the pond and all that s.h.i.+t. But no. No one could accuse those vicious rags of not giving it their best shot.

She tried to block out all the backbiting, ignore them the best she could, but boy, it was difficult. The derogatory way the girls looked at her and their mocking remarks wouldn't be so bad if they didn't feed into her own insecurities.

Truth was, most times she couldn't understand what a guy like him saw in someone like her. Why he'd want her, Christy, over anyone else. But he did, and she was walking on cloud nine because of it.

Their relations.h.i.+p had progressed to the scary point where not only did they spend all nights together, but sometimes they didn't make love; she just snuggled into him and they talked until they fell asleep. They were officially a couple, and although he still wasn't big on lowering his s.h.i.+elds around her, he was getting better. Somehow.

He was willingly volunteering things about himself, but there were always walls within walls with Cole. He'd admitted to wanting a relations.h.i.+p with her that day at Rosita's, true, but he hadn't elaborated on that ever since. She knew without a shadow of a doubt that he had feelings for her, though. She could see it in his face, hear it in his voice, in the way he fought panic every time he found himself opening up to her.

As the last visitor left, Mrs. Wilkinson locked the front door. On Monday the doors of the library would open for business as usual, but for today they were done.

Now there was going to be a small luncheon in the room adjacent to the history section for the town's authorities and everyone who had taken part in the library's overhaul, which pretty much included half the town.

Christy had had her hands full, so she'd been happy to let Rose and her entourage organize the party. She hadn't even gone in that room, preferring to stick around out here with the books and the computers. Besides, many visitors had been interested in the electronic book collection and the e-devices, and it had been lots of fun to show even the most reticent patrons how to benefit from the new technologies.

As the people started moving to the reception room, Christy finished turning off the computers and headed that way. She'd mingle, drink some soda, stay away from the goodies, and get the h.e.l.l out of there soon.

Cole started walking toward her, but the mayor caught up with him. Something about a new project, so Christy left them there and went ahead. When she entered the room, it took her a second to realize what was wrong. As her brain processed what she was seeing, her blood froze in her veins. Someone had gone all Xerox on the place and the walls were plastered with pictures of her. Pictures of when she was 200 pounds plus.

"What's that supposed to be?" Christy heard Mrs. Wilkinson asking.

"And more important, who is that?" someone added. She was wondering the same thing too. No matter how many times she looked at pictures of herself from that period, she couldn't for the life of her recognize herself.

Even though everything inside her rebelled against it, she forced herself to look. There were several close-ups of the same picture, the one taken during that d.a.m.ned wedding where she'd been wearing that horrible orange dress that made her look like she was a supernova about to burst and the whole world was in the blast zone. Oh G.o.d, and that wasn't all. Someone had been adding speech bubbles to her image. Look at me, I'm so fat no one wants to f.u.c.k me.

She couldn't breathe. She closed her eyes and didn't dare to read the other bubbles.

Annie was the fastest to react. "What the f.u.c.k...?" she cursed as she shot a murderous glance at Rose and began hastily taking the color copies from the walls. They hadn't spared any expense. No cheapo black-and-white attempt to make fun of her. She'd gotten the deluxe, high-definition treatment.

As realization dawned on Sophie and Holly of who it was in the pictures, they joined Annie in ripping papers down. Christy was grateful for their quick response. She'd told them about her weight problem, but she hadn't gone into detail about how bad it had been. Only Annie had actually seen.

"You've gone too far, Rose," Holly hissed.

Rose batted her lashes. "What makes you think I had anything to do with this? I'm as bewildered as the rest of you. Shocked actually."

Christy felt sluggish, and her ears were buzzing so badly she couldn't hear all that well. She glanced at Rose, at her smug face, her arms crossed over her chest. The b.i.t.c.h was so proud of herself.

Aunt Maggie and Max were also ripping papers down. Cole and the mayor had just entered the room.

She'd thought those pictures were as good as gone. d.a.m.n Facebook and all the other social networks. It'd been much easier to get rid of evidence before, when all you had to do was s.n.a.t.c.h pictures and rip them. Burn the negatives. Nowadays any bozo could upload it to the Internet and kaboom, it'd stay there forever, in a digital limbo, ready to kick your a.s.s at a moment's notice and when least expected. It was such an irony that she was being screwed over by the same technology she so strongly rallied behind. She would have laughed if she hadn't feared tears would come out instead.

Her first impulse was to run and hide, but she crushed it. She willed her body into action; she wasn't giving Rose the satisfaction of seeing her falling apart, not without saying a couple of things first.