Misconduct

When I was her age, twenty-three, she was twelve, for Christ’s sake.

Not to mention that Brynne would have my head—and deservedly so—if she ever found out about the things I was doing with Christian’s teacher.

What the fuck was the matter with me?

Every time I had the opportunity to take the high road in my personal life, I didn’t. I’d put my kid on the back burner for the sake of my career, and now I felt like I was taking advantage of a young woman.

Sure, she was just as complicated as I was and she gave as good as she got, but I’d learned to assess the road ahead before taking steps. With her, I had no idea what the next hour held, much less the next week or month.

She was unpredictable and entirely too addicting. It wasn’t so much the woman she tried to be that I liked but the girl she tried to hide. The one who needed to be held.

I sat at my desk, trying to work through the laundry list of e-mails I’d accumulated since leaving work yesterday as her music played in the background and she sang along a few feet away. Something about “drown” or “drowning.” It had been so long since I’d listened to music, but thanks to her and Christian, I was getting up to speed.

Despite the fact that I was swamped, as usual.

Production had stopped in Brazil due to rain, and a contract I’d already secured in Japan now had a lower bidder, so I was trying to put out fires, but my head just wasn’t in the game today.

The storm outside had lightened, but it was still too heavy to enjoy leaving the house.

Not that I wanted to anyway.

I glanced over, seeing Easton standing at the bookshelves in my office, the hem of my T-shirt rising up her thigh and over the curve of her ass as she reached to the third shelf.

Jesus.

I blinked and refocused on my computer screen, mentally hitting myself for inviting her in here. I didn’t want her to be bored, so I’d told her to hang out, grab a book, and read or work on the spare laptop if she needed.

However, she’d quickly turned into a woman on a mission, unable to resist alphabetizing my small personal library.

“This doesn’t drive you crazy?” she’d complained, wincing at the sight of my messy shelves. “This would drive me crazy.”

Yeah, so I let her off her leash to have at it.

As long as she didn’t incorporate the entire fucking Dewey Decimal System into her organization, I had no problem watching her cute little behind while she reached for books.

However, I wasn’t getting much done.

She’d been quiet, concentrating on her own work, but when a five-foot-seven brunette with gorgeous golden legs is crawling around on your floor, organizing stacks of books and looking cute as hell, watching her is an irresistible enjoyment.

“Are you almost finished?” She stood on the small ladder, reaching up and replacing the last few books.

I blinked, refocusing on my screen. “Not yet,” I answered. “About ten more e-mails to respond to.”

I wiggled my fingers, trying to remember what I needed to type and realizing I’d forgotten what the damn e-mail I needed to respond to had said.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed her stepping down from the ladder, barely making a sound.

“Tyler?”

I looked up, seeing her standing on the other side of my desk with a sweet look on her face. I narrowed my eyes.

What is she up to?

“I’m getting bored,” she said.

“The kitchen cabinets need organizing,” I shot back.

But she let out a sigh. “I think I’m just going to go take a bubble bath in your huge tub and wait for you,” she chirped. “And think about you. Maybe.”

I raised my eyes, swallowing down the thought of her wet and covered in suds.

“Sit down,” I commanded, pointing to the couch. “This was an hour’s worth of work that’s turned into two, because you’re distracting me.”

“You told me to come in here!”

“And you’re not taking a bath,” I shouted, ignoring her interruption, “because I’m going to damn well come with you, so don’t move! You understand?”

“I’m bored,” she repeated, “and I don’t like not to be doing things.”

“Tough.”

And I dropped my eyes back to the screen, typing I-have-no-idea-what just to get it done. My fingers worked without thinking, and I was probably coming off less polite than I normally made the effort to appear in my business communications, but there were better things to be doing.

She stood on the other side of my desk, watching me. “All right,” she said. “I’ll make you a deal.”

I tapped the keyboard, trying to ignore her. The sooner I could finish, the sooner we could spend the rest of the day in bed.

“If you finish your e-mails before I’m done, I’ll stay,” she challenged. “If you don’t finish those ten e-mails before I’m done, I’m leaving, and I don’t care whether it’s raining or not.”

What?

I shot my eyes up to her, scowling. “Before you’re done?” I shot out. “Done with what?”

A twinkle flashed in her eye, but she didn’t smile.

Instead, she walked over to the coffee-colored leather sofa and picked up the black pin-striped suit jacket I’d left there days ago, when I’d come home from work. With her back to me, she slipped my T-shirt over her head, dropping it to the floor, and brought my jacket up to her front, covering herself.

Every inch of me felt like I’d climbed into a hot, soothing bath, but my racing heart was anything but soothed. I fisted my fingers, seeing her long, naked back, smooth and toned, and I wanted to touch every part of her, including that perfect, heart-shaped ass she was flashing me.

Lying down on the sofa, she spread my jacket over her naked body, one hand rubbing the fabric over the inside of her thigh while the other slipped underneath the jacket.

My breath caught, seeing her fingers move under the coat, while she rubbed my jacket over her pussy, rolling her hips into the cloth.

Before I’m done. She was masturbating.

“Oh, you fucking bitch,” I whispered, meeting her heated eyes.

She blinked, and I expected to see her looking amused and playful, but she looked beautifully desperate.

“It has your smell on it.” She ground my jacket between her legs, closing her eyes and arching her neck back.

The jacket covered her as if I were wearing it and lying on top of her, from the neck to the tops of her thighs. Her legs were bent at the knees, and the bottoms of her feet were touching, making a diamond shape. That hand that I was so jealous of played slowly and softly, judging from the little movements under the jacket.

The idea of my clothes on her naked body was driving me fucking insane.

My jeans were tight, and the ache between my legs was growing.

“That’s a two-thousand-dollar suit,” I pointed out, trying to sound unaffected.

She dragged her bottom lip between her teeth, groaning as she clutched the fabric resting between her legs. “Worth every penny,” she taunted. “God, it feels like you.”

The corner of my lips turned up. I loved the idea of showing her that I felt a hell of a lot better than some piece of cloth she was dry fucking.

“Move the jacket,” I told her.

She opened her eyes and peered over at me, a rose-tinged blush falling across her cheeks.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Her body shifted and squirmed under the jacket as she continued fingering herself. “It’ll distract you.”

“Move the fucking jacket, Easton.”

A smile flashed across her eyes, and she slid the jacket off her body, letting it fall to the floor.

Jesus.

I tipped my chin at her. “Drop your foot to the ground and open your legs wider.”

She did it, letting her right foot rest on the hardwood floor and spreading her thighs wide. My view was perfect.

She grazed her clit with her middle finger, rubbing over it and playing as she watched me.

“You better get typing,” she teased, tapping her clit three times. “Type, type, type . . .” she taunted.

I scowled, ducking my head and typing furiously and then punching the backspace button fifteen times because of all the mistakes I was making.

I tried not to look at her, but it was like she was the only thing in the room, completely dominating my senses. I kept typing, but I would blink and dart my gaze over to see her rubbing her hard little nub in circles faster and faster. The flesh was dark pink, and I couldn’t stop wishing my mouth was buried in it.

I finished the e-mail, clicked Send, and double-clicked on another one. Some VP in the South American office whining about delayed production on the new line of equipment.

Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Get it done.

I didn’t really say that. Only the last part, but . . .

Her little moans carried across the room and vibrated over my skin, and I groaned, feeling my dick grow steel-rod straight. She wasn’t loud or exaggerated, and that made it hotter, because it was real.

I clicked Send, and then I opened up another e-mail. “Don’t come,” I ordered, looking up to check on her.

Her left hand was gripping the back of the sofa next to her, and her head was up, so she could watch her fingers move softly in and out. Her mouth was open, and her face looked pained as she let out little cries.

Shit.

I typed faster.

“I wish you were here,” she breathed out, teasing me. “Your kisses drive me crazy, so I wonder what your tongue would feel like between my legs.”

I grunted, shifting in my seat, and clicked Send, opening up another e-mail.

“God, I can see your cock through your pants,” she mewed. “It’s making my mouth water, baby.”

I blinked long and hard.

Type, type, type . . . My fingers worked hard, making constant mistakes, but I kept my head down, scowling, every muscle in my face as hard as iron.

Open, type, send, open, type, send . . . I grunted, shifting in my seat, her little moans getting higher and higher and making my body ache like hell.

“Please tell me I can have it,” she begged. “Please.”

“Are you trying to make me come?” I growled. “You said I had to finish ‘before you were done,’ so masturbate and shut up. I can’t concentrate with that talk.”

I opened another e-mail—only two left—but then I heard her small, taunting voice, sounding innocent.

“Yes, Mr. Marek.”

Fuck.

I glared at her, barely hesitating before shooting out of my chair. I slammed the laptop closed and rounded the desk, holding her eyes as excitement flashed across her face.

“You asked for it,” I gritted out.

I pushed my pants down, letting them drop to the floor, and then I came down on her and nestled my hips between her thighs.

I groaned, my heart racing as I grabbed my cock and ran it up and down her pussy. “This is what you do to me.”

She bit her bottom lip, squirming as she moaned.

I grabbed the backs of her thighs and pulled her into position. “You get me all worked up, and this is what happens.”

I pressed my hand into the armrest behind her head and thrust hard, sliding into her hot little pussy.

“Ah, ah!” she gasped, her eyes pinching together in sweet pain.

“Goddamn it,” I moaned. “You feel so fucking good.”

The first fucking thrust is always the best.

I held myself up with one hand on the sofa behind her head, and I slid my other hand under her ass, keeping her where I wanted her as I pulled out and slid back in again, hard and deep, up to the hilt.

“Oh, Tyler.” She swallowed, moving both hands to my back and spreading her legs even wider.

I slid into her again and again, faster and faster every time, until I was pounding into her so hard that I couldn’t see straight.

Her pretty tits bounced back and forth as sweat started to glide down my back.

“Ah, oh God.” She moaned, breathing hard and arching her head back.

Her cries filled the room, and her skin was glued to the leather of the sofa, but her pussy was hot and smooth, and I darted down, catching her bottom lip between my teeth.

“You’re bad for me, and I love it,” I breathed out, grinding between her legs, not letting up for a second.

She kissed me deep, pushing her head up and putting everything into it. Her tongue tasted sweet and sexy, just like her, and we were both moaning, like animals that couldn’t get enough.

She fell back on the sofa and held on to my back, letting me have my way with her.

“I love your body, Tyler.” She ran her fingers lightly down my chest and stomach.

I gave her a small grin, liking the sound of that. I was usually the one complimenting a woman’s body. I didn’t know why, but it wasn’t something women often thought to say to a man, and I loved her for it.

Especially since I wasn’t the twentysomething she was probably used to being with. I didn’t mind being older than her, but I didn’t want to seem old.

“I don’t want anyone else to have it while we’re doing this, okay?” she asked, looking up at me.

I laughed and circled my arms around her waist, flipping us both over so that I sat up against the back of the couch with my feet on the floor, and she sat on top, straddling my hips with my dick still inside her.

“You laying claim?” I teased, gripping her ass as she immediately began rolling her hips, riding me.

“I mean it,” she stated firmly. “You’ve seen my temper.”

I smiled at her, arching my head back and closing my eyes as she slid up and down my cock. “Don’t worry,” I soothed. “This dick is yours.”

Sex had never been this good with anyone in my life, and there had been plenty to compare her to. The thing I’d learned about sex was that for it to be good, it had to be more than just fucking. Playing, teasing, talking—the pair up of the right two people—and you had the difference between an act that you’d forget in two minutes and something that you wanted again and again.

Easton Bradbury kept me wanting more.

She seemed to like my answer, because she leaned down and trailed kisses over my neck and jaw. “Same goes for you.” I squeezed her ass tighter with my other hand and threaded my fingers through her hair, pulling gently and raising her head to face me. “You got that?”

She licked her lips, looking at me with a sudden serious expression, almost sad. “You’re the only one I want,” she spoke softly. “Right now.”

That made me jerk my head up and narrow my eyes on her.

Tightening my grip, I grabbed and lifted her again, tossing her back down on the couch before pinning her wrists above her head.

“That wasn’t exactly reassuring,” I barked, thrusting good and hard.

She squeezed her eyes shut, moaning, “Oh, God. Tyler.” She cried out, “Fuck, I’m coming!”

I felt her pussy clenching around my cock, and I showed her no mercy. Diving into her mouth, I tasted her tongue and let her cries drown out in my kiss.

She grabbed my ass and held tight, the bite of her nails stinging my skin as her body tensed beneath me.

She spasmed, her short, fast breaths echoing around me as her body shook with the orgasm.

“You make me want to ignore my work,” I accused, loving how wet she was after coming, “and I’d rather have you here at my beck and call than let you go home. Now, if you liked that,” I bit out, referring to the orgasm I’d just given her, “then I think you can assume you’re going to be coming back for more for the foreseeable future.”

She blinked her eyes open, looking desperate and confused. “All I know”—she breathed hard, searching for words—“is that you’re the only one I want.”

“For today?” I asked gently, placing my elbows on either side of her head and grazing my lips over hers, before whispering, “Or can I at least get a week out of you?”

She opened her mouth, trying to catch my lips for a kiss, but I pulled back just far enough to tease her.

Anger flashed in her eyes, and I smiled, loving that she liked getting kissed by me.

“What’s your track record, Easton?” I looked down into her eyes, keeping my voice calm. “How many boyfriends have you had? How long did they last? How long before you’re ready to jump into a new bed?”

Her eyebrows shot up, and she pushed at my chest. “Get off me,” she gritted out.

But I continued my smooth, even rhythm as pleasure started to course through my groin. “How long?” I taunted.

“What about you?” she snapped, pushing at my chest. “You can’t tell me you don’t have another woman somewhere.”

“Oh, I do,” I replied, keeping my voice light. “Several, actually. One on every continent.”

“Go to hell.” She slammed her palm into my chest. “And get off me!”

But I grabbed her hands and pinned them up above her head.

“There’s one in France and another in London. And they have beautiful women in Buenos Aires.”

She pinched her lips and pushed against my chest. “Ugh!”

I rolled my hips as I continued to move in and out of her while I tried not to laugh. “But you know why I want the hot little teacher in New Orleans?” I taunted, looking down into her eyes. “Because she fucking gives me what I want better than anyone else.”

The two small wrinkles between her eyes deepened, and her jaw hardened as she tried very hard to look angry when she wasn’t.

“You’ve got a hell of a body, Easton,” I breathed out over her lips. “You’ve also got a sharp tongue, and your temper is a hell of a lot of fun. It’s not just about sex.”

I dipped down, kissing her neck as I released her hands and grabbed the armrest to anchor myself. I began moving faster again, her small whimpers in my ear growing more desperate as her body took control.

I grunted, feeling the pleasure course down my cock.

God, I needed to come.

She squeezed her eyes shut. I could tell she was about to come again, too.

“So you wanna have fun with me for a while?” I asked.

“Yes,” she gasped, pleading. “Yes.”

I arched up, peering down at her closed eyes and her chest rising and falling with heavy breaths.

“Please, what?” I thrust into her harder, seeing her come apart.

God, she was beautiful. For one second she was stripped down, bare, and gorgeous, without any of her armor—and it made me feel like she would die without the one thing I could give her. But I also hated that those moments came so rarely, because I lived for them now.

“Please kiss me,” she begged.

I covered her mouth with mine as I went at her with everything I had.

“Yes!” she cried, then pulled away to shout, “Fuck! Harder!”

I gripped her thigh and gave her everything I had, completely lost in her moans and cries, smell and taste. Her sounds got higher and her skin was drenched.

“Fuck,” I gasped out, closing my eyes, letting the moment overtake me.

“Ah!” she cried out, then stilled, holding on for the ride.

I thrust into her again, my body jerking as I finally spilled inside of her.

“Jesus Christ,” I groaned, sliding out of her before slowly lowering my body back down on hers and kissing her collarbone.

My back started to cool, and my body buzzed with exhaustion.

I swallowed, trying to catch my breath. She was stunning.

“What are you doing to me?” I asked, breathless.

Her hands came up, threading through my hair and grazing down my neck. She trailed sweet kisses across my cheek and then wrapped her arms around my neck, damp with sweat, and held me in place.

But when I tried to arch up to look down at her, she tightened her hold, not releasing me.

“I can’t look at you and say this,” she said quietly, her soft voice sounding sad.

I stilled and averted my gaze, ignoring the apprehension building in my chest.

“My track record isn’t good,” she started. “I’ve never had a boyfriend. I’ve never wanted anyone again and again,” she admitted. “But when I think about you, I get excited.”

I stayed, listening, even though a smile started to spread my lips.

“You feed on me like food,” she went on, “and it makes me happy, because you exhaust me to where I can’t think.” She placed a light kiss on my neck, sliding her hands down my back. “You like that I’m difficult, and God, I love your body, Tyler. I definitely want more.”

She started breathing hard again, and I felt the hair on my arms stand up when she ran her feet up the backs of my legs and began sucking on my neck and kissing my ear.

My eyes closed. “Don’t,” I groaned. “I think my dick is dead.”

I felt her shake with laughter beneath me.

“Let’s go get in the shower,” she whispered. “We’ll see if your dick likes my mouth as much as my pussy.”