Juan nods, his disappointment evident. “I’ll be here. In case we lose each other, I’ll give you my number.”
He puts his hand out to take my phone, and I hand it over. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Tristan watching us from the elevator.
“There you go.” Juan smiles and hands me my phone back with his contact information.
I’m more breathless than I should be when I reach the top step of the third floor. How chivalrous of Tristan to give me the stairs option while he takes the elevator.
I see him leaning against the wall beside the door. He opens it, beckoning me to follow him.
I enter with slight apprehension as I try to figure out whether he’s angry, aroused or a bit of both.
It’s a dressing room for the conference speakers.
The door is barely shut before he turns to me, nostrils flaring.
“I don’t like my employees touching you like that,” he says, growling through his teeth, his chest rising and falling. He closes the distance between us. “Are you trying to tease me, Elly? Because you’re doing a good job in pissing me off.”
“I wasn’t teasing you,” I snap. “Juan asked me to go for a coffee. It’s not my fault you employ handsy lawyers. Besides,” I snort “I’m surprised you noticed. You were too wrapped up in Mara.”
Furious, he takes another step forward. “So you thought you’d flirt with anyone that gives you attention? I’m not interested in women who play games.”
“How dare you!” I spit, narrowing my eyes into angry slits. I’ve never seen Tristan like this before.
He must be high on his own glory. For the second time since meeting him, I want to slap him. I turn to leave, but two hands grab my hips from behind and press them against his thighs.
He’s hard.
I freeze as he holds me in an iron grip. After what he said, I should protest, storm off, smack him… instead, I find myself pressing into him so my ass is hard against his arousal. As he lifts up my dress in one fluid motion, I feel him grow even harder.
I’m wearing a black thong to prevent visible lines. My bare buttocks rub against him, straining against his expensive cashmere suit pants. A low guttural growl erupts behind me, and he slaps one of my ass cheeks hard. I yelp at the sting.
“Do you want me to teach you who’s boss here?” he breathes in my ear, sending a shiver from my ear the whole way down my body. I like this role-play.
“Two thousand of my employees here, and all I can think about is you,” he murmurs as he guides me a few steps forward to the dresser table, then bends me over, so I have to catch my weight with my forearms on the tabletop.
Behind me, I hear him whipping off his belt and the zipper of his trousers being yanked down. He pulls my thong string to one side and uses the other hand to run his hardness up and down my dampening slit.
I let out an involuntary moan. “Please.” I want him to own me. My arousal has been simmering all day ever since he took control of the stage; now it’s a pot ready to explode.
He lifts my hips and thrusts his cock deep into me. Once he’s in, he pushes me down onto the dresser, so I’m at a right angle, then he really gives it to me, his hips slapping against my thighs.
I practically convulse. This is angry sex, not tender. Crazed, urgent sex that makes me want to start
an argument with him every day. As he pounds relentlessly, his hand curves around my hip and his thumb rubs circles on my clit.
“Ah!” I cry. The man can multitask.
He teases my clit faster with his fingers until my whole body is shaking.
I grip the dresser for control. “Tristan,” I moan. “I can’t take it. I’m going to-”
“That’s right, Elly,” he cuts in with a possessive growl. “You’re mine.”
Tristan, I groan over and over as his fingers massage me relentlessly. With one final thrust he releases into me and shudders so hard, a glass falls from the dresser.
Holy shit.
My breathing is out of control. “I think I might be going into cardiac arrest.”
Behind me, his touch becomes tender as he moves my hair to kiss my neck. I feel drops of his perspiration.
“You’re mine too,” I whisper, staring straight ahead.
He’s silent for a moment while he adjusts my thong and smooths my dress down past my thighs. “I’m yours too,” he repeats gently into my neck.
23
Tristan
I leave Danny and Jack playing the last few holes by themselves. Danny gets slower every time he tries to beat me. He can have this one; today I’ve got no time. I’ve been crawling in traffic for two hours across central London and the exhibition closes in twenty minutes.
Finally, my phone tells me I’ve reached the destination, a humble-looking library in South Tooting.
I coax the car into the parking space, feeling apprehensive. I have a surprise planned for Elly, and I’m not sure how she will react to it. I’ve arranged to meet her at Megan’s art exhibition then we can drive to the surprise. I haven’t seen enough of her this week.
I have some making up to do since I over-reacted at the all-staff event. I don’t handle jealously well after my previous experiences.
It doesn’t take long to find them in the library. They are the last stall of about twenty selling various crafts, paintings and soaps. Charlie would like this. The crowd looks like it’s dying.
“Hi, ladies,” I say as I approach the table. “I’m sorry I’m late, the traffic was horrendous.” My mouth comes down on Elly’s, restraining myself enough to kiss her like a gentleman in public.
Her breasts press against my chest as she breaks the kiss. I resist the urge to run my hands all over her body.
“You should have taken a chopper,” she teases. “Better late than never.”
“I sold a fucking painting!” Megan cuts in. “It’s the first I’ve ever sold! A hundred quid! This time next year I’ll be a millionaire.” She grins, doing a little victory shuffle.
“That’s amazing.” I step back to take in her paintings, which are mainly landscapes. They’re not bad at all, although some look a little rushed. “You’re very talented, Megan.” “I know.” She shrugs, making me chuckle.