Baring It All. Rebecca Hunter
turned around, her hands searching for the zipper of the dress. Slowly, she lowered it, down her back and over her beautiful ass. Her dress gaped open, exposing all that warm, soft skin he had wanted to touch back in her kitchen. Max was going to personally thank the architect who had chosen full-length windows in her building. Natasha let her sleeves fall off as she glanced over her shoulder. And smiled. Oh, that smile, just for him. She inched the dress down, shimmying it over her hips until it fell. Leaving her in a see-through bra and panties.
Then she turned around.
Max stared up at Natasha’s window as his cock pulsed hard in his pants. His invitation for a few days of fun had been a long shot, and her response had been straight out of his late-night, snake-spanking fantasies. He could still hear her uneven breaths, feel her teeth sink into his lip. His body was alive with the memory of the heat of her skin, the weight of her body against his. And when he’d kissed her back in the kitchen, she had finally let go, like she’d also waited for this moment for years.
Now, she was standing in front of her window in a barely there bra and panties, and those glasses of hers were the perfect addition. Innocent but naughty at the same time, which only made him harder.
Natasha certainly had two sides to her—though she tried hard to hide the second one. Most of the time she was a funny, quirky, confident scientist who chose her path based on logic and careful decision-making to make sure her life stayed in her control. Hell, Max loved this side of her. It was what had made him pay attention that first day she so thoroughly and insightfully turned him down. But it was this side that had kept her with that tosser Wayne. Because the fucker kept everything nice and orderly despite not actually caring for her.
Wayne was probably too self-centered to notice Natasha’s other side, the one she seemed to be wary of. One that was curious, tempted. She rarely let anyone see it, but Max was going to give her the chance to explore that part of herself on Green Island. Maybe if he showed her what it felt like to have a man worship her for a few days, she’d avoid assholes like Wayne. And the hurt that came with them.
This peep show was the perfect balance, teetering between both sides of her. Would she go any further? It was questions like this that made his cock ache.
Natasha: You still have your pants on.
Max chuckled.
Max: Bra and panties = naked? Or are you ready to go all the way?
Natasha: Stalling...
Max laughed and looked up at her window. She had her hands on her hips, and her smile was wide. So far, so good. As long as he kept her smiling, she’d play along. He’d have plenty of time to get to the dirtier stuff next week.
Max set his phone in the docking station on his dashboard. He tipped his seat back a bit and unfastened the button of his jeans. Carefully, he lowered the straining zipper. His cowboy leaped out, stretching the material of his boxers, ready for a ride. He slipped the jeans over his hips and pulled them off, along with his socks and shoes. Then he tugged his boxers down, giving him plenty of room for the rodeo.
He looked back up at the window as his hand moved down over his cock. He cupped his balls and moved his hand up again, slowly, over his length, his gaze fixed on Natasha. Her arms fell to her sides as she stared down at him, her mouth parting. How much could she see? Had she ever watched a man get off in front of her? Another idea to file under Things to Try on Green Island.
She raised her hands to her breasts. He closed his fist around his cock and gave himself a hard squeeze. Would she get off in front of him, too?
But no. She was holding up her phone, probably texting him. Max grinned as his phone pinged.
Natasha: I can’t see enough. Not a fair exchange.
Before he could think through the idea, he reached for his dashboard to type.
Max: You can come closer.
Silence. Was she considering it? She was still staring down at him.
His imagination kicked into overdrive. His hand was back on his cock as he pictured her walking out the front door of her apartment building and climbing into the seat next to him. She’d still be wearing just a bra and panties and those glasses, because, hey, this was his fantasy. Can I get a closer look? she’d say. Yeah, she certainly could. Max was bigger than Wayne in every way, and he’d put money on it that this included cock size. Natasha’s eyes would get all doe-eyed wide as she stared at his dick. He’d be ready to come, but he’d make himself wait.
She’d say something like, Can I touch you? and—
Max’s phone pinged, shaking him out of his fantasy world.
Natasha: Goodnight
He looked up at the window, and she smiled and waved. He smiled back.
Max: I’ll be thinking of you. In detail.
Natasha: Same
The shade on her window came down, and Max slumped back into his seat. His cock was begging for attention. How the hell was he going to drive home with a raging hard-on?
He glanced around at the deserted side street. He was a dozen strokes away from coming. Fuck it. He was going all the way. Max grabbed a rag from the glove compartment and smirked. He had thought of a few reasons to put the little towel in the car, but this hadn’t been one of them.
Leaning back in his seat, he fast-forwarded through his fantasy until he came to the part where she looked up at him and asked, Can I taste? Then she’d lick his tip, swirling her tongue around a few times before her lips closed around him. His balls tightened, and his hand moved hard and fast in a few last strokes. He grabbed the cloth and came hard into it, his hips thrusting. Max gulped in a few breaths of air. Goddamn, this woman wound him up for reasons he didn’t even understand.
He glanced at the heap of his jeans next to his seat. The trip to Green Island was going to be interesting, and a hell of a lot of fun.
WHEN MAX WALKED into the virtual conference room, the rest of the Blackmore Inc. team was already there. Derek Latu and Simon Rodriguez were sprawled in two of the seats behind the room’s half-circle table, and a very real-looking image of Cameron Blackmore, the Sydney team’s CEO, was on the large screen against the wall. Cameron’s virtual half of the table, projected on the enormous screen on the wall, was from New York. The Sydney office’s screen lined up with the New York office’s table perfectly to complete a round conference table.
The whole setup had been Jackson McAllister’s idea, from when she’d done PR work for the head office. She was the Sydney team’s image consultant for a stint before Cam fell for her and chased her back to New York, where he was now working temporarily.
“How’s the Big Apple?” asked Derek. “Jackson works, so I know you’re not in bed all day.”
The rest of the team chuckled.
“Cold as hell. Thank fuck we’re leaving soon,” said Cameron, smiling. “She’s given her notice. We’re going to take off for Paris soon. Not that it’s any warmer there.”
“You’re getting on a plane again?” asked Simon. “Does Jackson really know what sitting next to you means?”
Max watched his friend carefully, waiting for the answer. Cameron had managed to keep his fear of flying well hidden from the public, but Max, Derek and Simon knew the lengths he had gone to in order to avoid travel over the years.
“She knows,” said Cameron, his expression turning serious. “Let’s get this meeting started. Surveillance update, Simon?”
Simon went through the growing list of clients their virtual security department was currently