Crave: The Nora Heat Collection Read online

  I ran a hand over my face, sitting back in my chair. I looked out the door and she sat behind the desk in the hallway with the phone to her ear. I could see her tits from here, full and perky, nearly popping out of her bra.

  She looked good enough to eat and she knew red on a woman was my thing. She wore that outfit to get a rise out of me. I don’t even think she realized how badly I wanted to shove that skirt up and fuck her with her red stilettos on.

  I dragged a finger under the collar of my shirt, suddenly feeling too damn hot. Her bold emerald eyes flashed up to mine when she hung up the phone but I didn’t pull away, even though I should have. She stood up with a folder, stepping around the desk and coming to my office.

  I watched until she met on the opposite side of my desk, extending her arm and handing the folder to me. “Mr. Fox called, said he wanted to meet with you sometime this week. Should I pencil him in?”

  “Sure. Go ahead.” I took the folder, dropping it on the desk. “Anything else?” I inquired.

  “Yeah,” she sighed, dropping her arm. Her green eyes bolted on mine, and her tongue ran over her bottom lip. Her hand went to her shirt, where the cut started, and she pulled it down, revealing a full rack. “I can feel you watching me. You’re looking at me because you want me,” she said breathlessly, and my cock throbbed instantly.

  She stood there like a fucking goddess, those perfect tits pointed right at me. Her nipples were light brown and erect.

  “Not here,” I mumbled, but I wanted to bite my fist, resist. Not here. Not fucking here in my place of work. Not again. That’s what hooked me the first time.

  “I don’t like waiting until Sunday, Jude,” she murmured, walking around my desk to get closer.

  I stood up, grabbing her arm and forcing her ass on the corner of my desk. A moan slipped out of her as I studied her lips and then her nipples.

  “And you think I do?” I growled. “You wore this on purpose. You have no idea how badly I want to rip these clothes off and fuck you on my desk.”

  “Then do it,” she tempted, smiling as the tip of my nose skimmed over hers.

  “No,” I mumbled, sliding my palm down her bare thigh. I moved my hand between her legs and dropped my forehead, my lips close to her nipples. “Christ, Jenna,” I rumbled. My cock was so hard. “You serious right now? Wearing red today and no panties?”

  A smile split her face, and that smile told me everything. She wanted me. She was trying to wrap me under her spell. Make me confess.

  I dropped my head lower, sucking her taut nipple into my mouth and thrusting my middle finger into her pussy. Her moan was hard and heavy, making my cock spasm. She was so wet. Already.

  I dragged my lips over to the other nipple, swirling my tongue around it before bringing my lips up to the shell of her ear.

  “This what you want?” I muttered in her ear.

  “Yes,” she breathed out, and her hand ran over my thigh, skimming my cock. My cock twitched, knowing the familiar touch all too well. I dropped my head, sucking on the bend of her neck. She smelled so good, like cherries and vanilla.

  I sucked her harder, dying to take my pants off and slam into her pussy.

  Jenna turned me on too much. I shouldn’t have wanted her this badly. I never wanted more than one taste from a woman but with Jenna, I’d had plenty and it still didn’t feel like enough.

  The phone rang at her desk, but I was too distracted by her moaning and the way she ran her hand over my cock to stop. I tilted my head back, just as she threw her hair over her shoulder. The fabric of her skirt had collected around her waist and I could see everything down there.

  Pulling my fingers out, I sat down in my chair, rolled toward her, and spread her legs wider apart when I was between them. My palm pressed on her chest and I forced her back, angling her hips so her pretty pussy was right in my face.

  She was always fresh and waxed. Bald and slick. She kept herself clean and ready between the legs, all for me and without even having to ask.

  The phone rang again. We both ignored it.

  I knew who was calling and I didn’t give a single fuck right now.

  “I’m going to eat your pussy, Jenna, but that’s all you’ll get from me,” I said. “Do you understand?”

  I gripped her hips, smirking up at her while she stared down at me with desperate eyes, like she really needed this.

  “Yes, please,” she begged.

  Oh, she didn’t have to beg me. I wanted the taste of her all over me. I wanted to eat her cunt like it was my last damn meal. Normally, I’d make her beg—demand an answer from her—but not this time. This time I was too impatient to wait for her to say anything else.

  My tongue slid through her slit, and I groaned when I finally got what I wanted—the sweet, sweet taste of her.

  “Damn,” I groaned. “Always so sweet.” I dove back in for another lick, clutching her hips tighter now. I was greedier than I should have been, burying my tongue in her pussy, fueling up on her moans and groans.

  Her fingers were in my hair and she brought my face closer, like she couldn’t get me close enough. I sucked on her clit, driving a finger inside her, peering up and watching as she came undone.

  “Ah, yes, Jude,” she cried softly. “Yes, yes. Please, don’t stop.”

  Oh, I wasn’t going to stop. Not until I made her pretty little pussy come all over my desk. I worked two fingers inside her, my tongue still lapping at her clit, triggering the spot I knew about all too well.

  “I’m going to come,” she breathed.

  I picked my head up, dropping the pad of my thumb on her clit. “I bet you wish it was my cock inside you, don’t you?” I murmured on her thigh. I kept playing with her pussy with my fingers, my thumb rubbing her clit, until she gasped for air.

  Jackpot.

  “Oh, Jude!” Her voice vibrated as she came. One of her hands clutched my other wrist, trying to hold steady.

  “You look so sexy when you come, babe.” I couldn’t help watching her. Watching as she shook with satisfaction, her full rosy lips spread apart, her eyes squeezed shut, holding onto me for dear life like she never wanted the orgasm to end.

  I finished her off with a kiss to her pelvis, just above the clit, and then withdrew, standing up between her legs.

  “You thought you could just walk into my office, show me your tits, and not get handled?” I smiled as she worked on catching her breath. “You got what you wanted. Get back to work now.”

  “No, I didn’t get what I wanted,” she said, and then looked down at the tent in my pants.

  “I’m not fucking you here. Especially not today.” I helped her off the desk. “She’ll smell you all over me.”

  She stood up, pulling her skirt down and fixing her shirt. I felt a clench in my gut when she put those perfect tits away. Disappointment, that’s what it was. Disappointed in myself for not fucking the shit out of her.

  “What’s happening today?” she asked, but deep down I was sure she already knew.

  “Michaela is coming for lunch,” I answered, and she swallowed thickly, sighing.

  “Oh, okay. Cool.” She nodded and stepped away, her eyes falling to the floor. She turned and walked out of my office without a word, taking the seat behind her desk again.

  I sat down too, struggling to pull my shit together. I was so close to calling her back in and having her drop to her knees, but I had to resist.

  I needed to lose this hard-on before Michaela arrived. Like it wasn’t bad enough that I didn’t want to see her. My mother insisted she come for lunch—she was treating me after all, like that made a fucking difference.

  I couldn’t stand Michaela. She was too posh. Too uppity. Yeah, I’d fucked her a few months ago, when she came by my place unexpectedly and I was too drunk to function, but that’s all she was. A quick fuck. One I couldn’t even remember. It’d only happened once.

  I was thirty years old, single, and had been since college. My parents always questioned why I wasn’t lookin
g or settling down with any of their picks. They’d send the women to me, set up dates, and yeah, I had fucked a few of them here and there, but I never wanted more with any of them.

  They weren’t great at sex either. Half of them didn’t even know how to suck a cock, much less ride one. Just the thought of how some of them used their teeth while sucking me off made me cringe.

  Michaela was no better. She was okay at sucking cock, but she didn’t know how to ride me. I refused to marry a woman who didn’t know how to own it, fuck it, suck it, and bounce on it.

  And speaking of the devil, just as my hard-on settled down and I’d washed the smell of Jenna off my lips with several sips of coffee, the elevator chimed, the doors drew open, and out she came.

  FOUR

  JENNA

  Michaela King.

  I didn’t like her one bit, and not because she was stunning with perfect brown hair, freshly manicured nails, and a physique every woman would kill for. No, it was because she was full of herself, smelled like too much perfume, and always disregarded me when I was around.

  I also probably didn’t like her because she was what stood between Jude and me.

  It was frustrating when she popped up, touching his chest or arm, hugging him, telling him how much she’d missed him.

  Michaela sat down in the chair on the opposite side of his desk, flicking her brown hair over her shoulder. I could hear her obnoxious voice from where I sat. I mostly watched Jude, and how he bobbed his head, focusing more on his salad than the conversation shared with her.

  Michaela’s phone rang, interrupting her pointless chat about a boutique she went to at Laguna Beach, and as she dug through her purse for her phone, Jude’s eyes slid over to mine. Those icy blue irises turned a shade darker, his tongue skimming over his bottom lip.

  I looked away before I could get sucked in.

  He was with Michaela. His family didn’t know about us, and with the way he explained his and Michaela’s situation, I knew it needed to stay that way.

  His family didn’t know about the many women he boned, most of them commoners like me, not filthy rich women who came from rich bloodlines. I bet if they’d known, they would have flipped a wig.

  I’d met his parents once, during the Christmas gala in Seattle last year. Jude was their precious baby boy—the baby of the family and their only son. He deserved the very best and nothing less. He invited me to attend last year and I couldn’t pass it up. He’d booked a flight for me and everything.

  Crap, speaking of, it was that time again. It was December 10th. The gala was on the 20th and deep down I hoped he would invite me again.

  Back before our arrangement started, we had an electric connection—one that could be felt as soon as we stepped foot into the same room. He’d held off for a while, to my surprise, but he had no problem flirting with me. I’d even caught him staring at my boobs and ass on more than one occasion.

  If he weren’t so damn hot, and I wasn’t so attracted to him, I would have considered him a pervert back then.

  Michaela stood from her chair after her call and Jude dragged his eyes back over to her. “I have to meet with Megan. We’re doing a little more Christmas shopping for the family,” I heard her say. “Plus, I need a dress to wear to the gala. I’m assuming I’ll be your date?” She smiled at him.

  Jude kept a straight face. “I always attend the gala’s single,” he said, and I saw the smile slip right off her face. I smashed my lips together, fighting a laugh. He stood as she stepped away. “I’ll see you there, I’m sure.”

  She was upset, her eyebrows strewn together, her grip tight around her cellphone. “If you bring another woman and flaunt her in my face, Jude, I swear I will never speak to you again,” she whisper-hissed. Her head jerked sideways, her face turning in my direction, but I dropped my head, pretending to focus on the paper on my desk instead. “I know you’re fucking someone else,” she said in a lower town. “I’m not an idiot.”

  “Even if that were true, it isn’t like I’m not allowed to. We aren’t in a relationship, Michaela. My parents arranged this…whatever the hell this is. We have our lunch dates and dinner dates with my parents, but I only do it to please them. Don’t take this for more than what it is.”

  She scowled. “Oh, don’t even try it, Jude. You know that without marrying me, your business will tank. Your family wants good graces with my dad to keep your family business afloat and they aren’t going to let you ruin that for them. You always do what they say, so whatever. Keep up the charade,” she whisper-hissed. “You and I both know that when the time comes, you’ll be standing there waiting for me at the altar.”

  My chest felt tighter when I heard her last sentence. I couldn’t help the frown that creased my forehead. They were getting married? God, no. When?

  I didn’t look up as I heard Michaela’s heels click-clack on the marble floor. The elevator dinged when the doors drew open and she stepped into it. When I heard the doors close, I let out a big breath.

  I looked up at Jude, but he was already watching me.

  His eyes immediately dropped, sliding down to the floor.

  He walked around his desk to get to the door, and when he shut it, I was sure a splinter had pricked my heart.

  FIVE

  JENNA

  It was Friday and Jude hadn’t touched me since Monday morning, when I overheard him and Michaela’s conversation about the arranged marriage. I couldn’t believe it, and yet I couldn’t even complain to him about it because I had no right. He wasn’t mine.

  He looked at me—no, more like stared—but he didn’t touch. I couldn’t blame him for the ogling. Though I was bothered and curious, the outfits I wore to work were anything but conservative. I wanted him to touch me. To tease me—to do anything to me. I was tired of waiting for Sundays to arrive.

  I decided to work late that Friday and catch up on a few things so I wouldn't have to come in early the next day. Though Jude was always on my mind, I had to find a way to distract myself from him somehow, so when the time came that he was married to Michaela, I wouldn’t be so heartbroken and would actually have someone to fall back on.

  I’d downloaded a few dating apps on my cellphone a while back to see if it would occupy me and it did, for the most part.

  Most of the men were very strange. Most were pervs who only wanted to see my boobs. Some even asked for vagina pictures. It was gross, and just as I was about to ditch the apps and return back to my normal Jude-obsessed life, I got an interesting notification on Tuesday. It was a message from a really handsome guy.

  I knew not to just look at the surface, but to dig deeper. We messaged throughout the week, chatted often, and he seemed very nice. He’d even sent images of himself while working, just to prove he was real.

  His name was Tyler and he wanted to meet Friday night, and since it was a public place and I had nothing to hide, I was down for it. But to be safe, I told my best friend, Carrie, to tag along and to bring her boyfriend for backup. He wanted to meet at a bar and grill where they would be having taco and tequila night, which sounded like it was exactly what I needed.

  If we were going to be drinking tequila, I didn't want to have to come strolling into work earlier than I needed to with the possibility of a hangover. It was best to finish everything I had to do now so I could clock in late. Fortunately, Mr. Clement didn’t mind me coming in later on Saturdays. He was usually out of the office anyway.

  Excited for the night to begin, I finished organizing the folders for Mr. Clement and then I checked my cell for the time. It was nearing 6:00 p.m. My date was at 8:00 p.m.

  Before I could take the folders to the filing cabinet, Jude's office door swung open and he stepped out with his fingertips buried in his front pockets.

  "Come into my office before you go, Miss Taylor," he said, turning his back before I could even respond or tell him I was in a hurry and had somewhere to be.

  With a heavy sigh, I put the folders down and walked into his office. He
was standing in front of the wide floor-to-ceiling window now, where a view of the ocean wasn't too far off.

  "You've been smiling at your phone all week," he said, glancing over his shoulder.

  “Yeah, so?" I frowned a little.

  "Who have you been talking to?"

  "A friend?"

  "What friend?"

  "A guy," I said, realizing this was my chance to rub it in his face. He had Michaela and I had a date. There was no rule saying I couldn't date in between my Sunday fucks. Plus, I wanted him to realize he wasn’t the only guy I talked to.

  "A guy," he repeated, turning to look at me. He scanned me with icy eyes.

  “Yes, Jude, a guy. It’s a date. Though you never arrange them with me, I’m sure you’ve heard of those.”

  He chuckled lowly, like he was truly amused by this. "This...guy..." He pointed a finger at me, stepping closer. "Does he know you’re getting fucked by your boss every Sunday?"

  My heart stumbled over the next beat, surprised by his sentence that was so lax, but still packed one hell of a punch.

  "No, of course not," I answered quickly, as not to seem too dumbfounded.

  "Of course, he doesn't," Jude mumbled, coming closer. The gap between us was closing and my breath became sticky in my lungs. When Jude was right in front of me, I noticed how serious his eyes were, how he seemed slightly agitated with me but was trying to keep his cool all at once.

  "Does he know that when I eat your pussy, I sometimes slide a finger in your ass and it makes you come in a matter of seconds?"

  "Jude," I warned as his chest bumped against mine.

  "Does he?" he asked with soft demand.

  "No. I just met him, Mr. Clement," I whispered, taking a small step back.

  Jude tilted his head to look me over again. Then he bumped against me until my back was against the wall and his hand was on my shoulder.

  "Don’t ‘Mr. Clement’ me. I'm tired of this fucking game. Get on your knees," he growled, and I slowly sank into a squat, leaning forward and letting my knees hit the marble. While I did, Jude unbuckled his belt and then undid his pants.