Page 24 of Guarded Hearts
He buried his head in my neck, Russian words murmured in my ear. I clung to him, letting the sensations cascade through my body with each rock of his hips. His dancing hips might be rusty, but these ones were well oiled. Every movement was delicious perfection.
When he eased back, ripped open the condom, and rolled it on, I breathed another sigh of relief. He slid me along the smooth surface of the desk until I was poised at the edge. He scanned my face, and, worried he might change his mind, I kissed him, wrapping my arms around his neck, and scooted forward a bit more. Any thoughts of stopping vanished the minute he eased into me, brushing against my clit with each thrust.
“I want to do this every day,” I murmured between kisses.
He chuckled and deepened the kiss, his hand on my ass securing us tight together. His breathing was labored when he kissed my neck and scraped my earlobe with his teeth.
More Russian words, but I was too far gone to question what he was saying, to care or wonder. He wanted me badly. That was enough.
“Alyssa,” he rasped in my ear.
“I’m with you,” I said. “I’m—oh, God—just—a—little—more.”
He wrapped his arms around me, and the added friction sent me spiraling over the edge, my nails digging into his shoulders as I cried out. A few moments later, he followed.
Once I came back to reality, the only sound in the room was our heavy breathing. I collapsed back on the desk and stared at the ceiling. “Wow.”
He stepped away and turned his back while he cleaned up, and then he came back to place one hand on either side of my head, hovering above. A hint of amusement lit the depths of his eyes. “You okay?”
I met his gaze, affection stirring in my chest. “Just taking in the view.”
“Like what you see?”
“I do,” I said. “Might even be willing to see this view again.”
“Oh, you mean you won’t freeze me out this time?” His tone was pointed, but his expression was teasing.
A flush rose to my cheeks, and I wanted to press my palms there to calm the heat. “It happened, eventually.”
“Tomorrow, we should talk. When you’re more sober.” He kissed me again and stood up, at which point he gathered my clothes and passed them to me.
“Talk about doing this again? ’Cause if we’re talking aboutnotdoing this again, I think I’ll take a hard pass on that conversation.”
“Tomorrow,” Pasha said, straightening his shirt.
“I’m serious. If you have regrets, you keep them to yourself. I don’t want to hear them tomorrow.” I smoothed my tank top and hopped off the desk.
“Noted.” He gave me a half smile before pressing his lips to my temple. “Wait a few minutes and follow me. The door locks automatically.”
Once the door clicked closed from his departure, I stood in the middle of the room and tried to keep my mind blank. Overstimulated thoughts in any direction were a bad idea. Neutral. No thoughts. Good sex—actually, great sex. Replaying that was fine. Anything else was trouble.
Contracts and debts and jobs could come into the equation another day. Maybe Mia wouldn’t even care. I checked the clock above the desk and realized it was broken. Probably long enough to wait.
After checking my appearance in the bathroom, I waltzed back into the conference room. It was getting late. My buzz had worn off, and I was tired. As I headed to the exit, my bed calling me, Mia grabbed my arm.
“Oh, I was looking for you.” Her drink sloshed out of her glass, and she weaved like liquid as though her body might slosh over the edge too. “Jazz was complaining to me about the nonfraternization clause in your contracts. Did you read that part? I didn’t even remember it was in there. Of course, I never made the contracts. I just use them. That’s HR’s job.”
I froze, and the little buzz I’d still had vanished. “Complaining?” I cleared my throat. “About me?”
“Are you helping Pasha with the dance?” Mia’s hand landed on my arm again.
“Yeah, he needed help, so I offered.” The complicated truth wasn’t necessary.
“Aha.” She raised a finger. “That’s what I told Jazz. I said you were helping me and Pasha with a thing for my wedding. No details for her ’cause I think she’s a gossip. She thinks you’re sleeping with him, or he’s sleeping with you—you’re sleeping together.” She shook her head as though she was trying to clear it. Tomorrow would not be a good day for her. “I told her you weren’t. She wanted one of you fired.” She rolledher eyes. “What did she think I was going to do? Fire Pasha? That’snevergoing to happen.”
Someone called her name in the crowd, and she turned, almost toppling over. I steadied her, and Mia patted my hand. She waved to the person with drunken enthusiasm and then focused on me again.
“If you like him, that’s cool. I figure you must ’cause you wouldn’t take my money to help him, but now you’re helping him. And I know you need the money. Just—like—don’tdoanything with him till the tour’s done. Okay? I don’t wanna have to fire anyone, and Jazz is acting like a bloodhound. I can’t remember what the contract says. But it probably says I have to fire someone. My mom loved clauses that let her fire people, and I haven’t changed any of the contracts. I probably will later—like, not this tour—but another tour. So, just, be cool. Okay?”
