Soon the feel of his thumb dancing slow circles around her wonton, lace-covered breast wasn’t enough. She needed to feel him. His skin on her aching dips and hollows. His mouth traveled to the other, leaving behind it a trail of stinging nips and soothing kisses. Sarah could hear her breath sawing in and out of her lungs when Falon finally showed her some mercy by wrenching her top from her body.

His hands danced across her naked torso inspiring moans she had lost all will to fight. Anything to keep his hands on her and his mouth slowing working its way where she needed him the most. When he brushed the barrier of lace out of his way and took her needy breast in his mouth, she purred her approval while arching her back offering herself to him completely.

The small circles his other hand had been tracing on her thigh moved higher until they were brushing the edge of her panties. A murmur of distress and want broke from her lips as she angled her hips in an attempt to get him where she wanted.

“Not a muscle,” he warned and stopped the movement of his hand and kissed across the valley of her breasts to give the other the same through attention as the first.

His warm breath against her wet skin pushed her closer to that cliff he had been steadily pushing her toward. Afraid he would leave her stranded in the desert of need his hands led her into, Sarah took control of her rebellious hips and prepared to wait him out. But God, it was killing her.

When she thought just the sensation of his lips, tongue, and teeth on her would push her over the edge, his hand found the aching center of her need, instantly sending her soaring to the stars. He took no mercy and used his very talented hand to push her so high she feared she would never come back down. Increasing the speed and pressure of his fingers, he brought her to the brink of sanity and back again.

He stayed with her until the last of the spasms left her body and reality slowly came back into focus. His hot kisses along her collarbone and firm hands on her hips let her know she hadn’t been hallucinating. She was really lying on her back on his desk, spread out like a wonton feast ready for him to devour.

Falon Wolfe had really given her the best orgasm of her life and she was still half-clothed.

His labored breathing proved he wasn’t totally unaffected by the experience as well. When she could feel her limbs again, she attempted to loosen his tie but he intercepted her uncoordinated finger. Using her wayward hand, he pulled her into a sitting position. There was a white-hot desire blazing in his eyes yet he didn’t make a move to touch her. He only stood, taking in her disheveled, blissfully languid appearance.

“Good night, Sarah.” His hoarse whisper took a moment to register through the orgasm fog surrounding her brain and by then it was too late. He bent and kissed the side of her neck once more before crossing the room.

Chapter Eight

It was two o’clock on Saturday and Sarah was unrepentantly still in her robe and pajamas. She had been replaying the events of Wednesday night’s desk encounter since the cloud of lust burst when Falon quietly closed the office door leaving her alone and confused. It wasn’t until she was slinking out of the building into the night that the fact he never kissed her registered. He had made love to her body, expertly, but he hadn’t made love to her. Not really.

He had made sure that damned control of his stayed firmly in place even while he took her to such soaring heights. Sarah hated that omnipresent control. There had to be a way to get him to relinquish it.

She closed her eyes as a particularly explosive memory of that night brought her body to tingling awareness. While she wanted to see him as lost in the moment as herself, she was beginning to think that she would take him any way she could. That wouldn’t do. She didn’t want him want him. She just wanted him to remember the man he used to be.

Control wasn’t everything and for some reason he had forgotten to live. When he left Chicago in a few weeks, she wanted him to take that with him. And she knew he would be leaving. Falon Wolfe didn’t let the dust settle for too long.

She knew what she was up against the moment she stepped into his office. The problem was he had left her with a craving she was helpless to appease until he said the word. Somehow she thought he had done that on purpose, establishing who calls the shots in the little game they found themselves playing.

They had danced around each other over the past couple of days. She would take one step forward, he would take two back. Always out of reach. Always cool. While she was slowly being driven nuts by lust. If he was trying to teach her a lesson, Sarah wasn’t appreciating his method of teaching.

The buzz of the doorbell made her start. Thoughts of him on her doorstep with bedroom eyes and a can of whipped cream had her heart stumbling over itself in excitement.

“Sarah? Are you home?” Marcy’s voice boomed from the entryway leaving her libido to pout in the corner.

“Kitchen.”

“Are you ready … ” Marcy stopped short when she saw Sarah’s rather impressive state of laziness. “Who died?”

“What? Can’t a girl lounge around her own house in ancient pajamas without a tragedy?”

“Well yeah, for the normal people.”

She arched a brow at her friend standing shocked in the doorway. “And that would make me …”

“Impressively overpunctual.” Marcy smiled. “Are you going to get ready or do you plan on displaying this in all its glory to the citizens of Chicago?”

“Give me fifteen minutes.” She sighed and went to make sure she didn’t scare the hardened population of the greater Chicago area.

***

“What was all that about anyway?” Marcy asked while Sarah locked up.

“Mental preparedness.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning, my panties have been on fire for three days and the man with the … equipment to put it out has been invited to our weekly dinner.”

Sarah didn’t mean to snap but apparently this level of horny made her a smidgen cranky.

“I see.” She could practically hear the smirk in her friend’s reply.

“Not now,” she nearly growled. This thing with Falon was turning her into an animal. “You invited him. Whatever made you decide that was a good idea I’ll never know—”

“The steam rising from your panties gave me the idea. Not all of us are blind.”

“But you did.” She continued as if she didn’t hear Marcy’s lewd comment. “And now you are responsible for whatever mess you have created.”

“What mess?” Marcy asked sweetly.

“The smoldering puddle of need I leave Mr. Falon Wolfe in by the end of the evening.”

Marcy threw her head back in laughter and Sarah felt the first real smile in the last three days part her lips. Two could play at this game.

***

Falon checked the time on his watch for what felt like the hundredth time. He wasn’t sure if he was checking because he was regretting accepting the dinner invitation or out of impatience to see Sarah.

He hadn’t touched her in nearly thirty-six hours and the lack of contact was affecting him more than he cared to admit. He told himself it was because he was being extra cautious with her. She called to him in an elemental way that left him with an uncomfortable ache in his chest he didn’t care to examine too closely.

“What time did you say they would be here?” he asked Frank. Again.

“Marcy said they should be here by seven-thirty.”

Frank shifted in his seat like he was nervous. When he checked his own watch, Falon got the feeling he was missing something. What was going on?

But before he could question him, Frank sat straighter, his gaze focused over Falon’s shoulder. “Here they come.”