“He needs me.” I sniff. “And you don’t.”

“If I don’t need you then I’m a fool also.” John nuzzles his face into my palms. “Because I risked my hard-earned reputation for you tonight.” I curl my fingers, cupping his defined chin. “I don’t have a fancy education or high class connections. My reputation is all that I have.”

And tonight, he damaged that reputation by breaking his non-fraternization rule, by publicly acknowledging his desire for his assistant. He did this for me, someone who turned out to be too high maintenance, too costly, to be worth his risk. I lower my fingers, caress the scar around his neck. He flinches but doesn’t pull away, allowing me to touch him.

“My parents didn’t need me,” I share quietly. “They did everything parents should do, providing a roof over my head, food, clothing but I gave them nothing in return. I didn’t add to their happiness, to their success, and when I left for school, they didn’t even notice I was gone.”

“They left you alone,” John states.

“They always left me alone.” I lean into him and he cuddles me close, rubbing my bare back. John holds me and I almost forget that we’re traveling toward my apartment, toward a goodbye I suspect will be permanent.

He breathes in. I breathe out. He breathes out. I breathe in. We share the same air, the same space, the connection between us tight and alive. I don’t know how I’ll survive without him, how I’ll bear our separation. More tears trickle down my cheeks.

“Sleep, Trella,” John urges, his voice low and deep, his lips buzzing against my earlobe, making the diamonds in the beautiful earrings he gave me jostle and tinkle.

My eyes burn from unshed tears. The exhaustion presses down on me, a steady weight on my chest. My arms and legs are limp. My ass is numb.

“No, you’ll replace me.” I force my eyelids to remain open. This might be the last time I feel his arms around me, smell his musk, embrace his heat. I won’t squander a second.

“It’s not possible to replace you.”

I feel his voice, the rumble of his chest. “You could do it.” I yawn, the darkness pulling at me. It’s been a long day and I’m so very tired. “You can do anything.”

“When I’m with you, I believe I can do anything.” John wipes away my tears. “Sleep.” He skims his palms over my face, closing my eyes. “I’ll protect you.”

I’m not alone. He’s with me. I sigh and slip into the black void.

 

Chapter Eight

I’m dreaming. I must be. I’m in John’s bedroom with him, not in my small apartment alone. He drags his hot mouth over my shoulder, cups my breasts with his rough palms. I cover his hands with my fingers, forcing him to squeeze harder, pleasure shooting over my form.

He nudges his hard cock between my thighs, pressing his hips against my ass. I wiggle against him, needing more, needing him inside me.

“John,” I moan.

“Give me a second.” He rolls away from me and cool air sweeps over my back. I huff. This isn’t what I need. A package rustles and he returns, wrapping his arms around me, pressing his latex-covered cock against me.

I frown. Why is he wearing a condom in my dream? I want to feel him inside me.

“Open for me, Trella.” He pinches my nipples, the sweet pain punctuating his command, erotic bliss flowing down my spine.

I obey him, spreading my thighs, and he pushes inside my slick pussy, stretching me open. This is what I need, this fullness, this connection. When he’s inside me, I’m not alone. I’m needed.

I tilt my hips and John buries himself to his base. A rumble of satisfaction rolls up his chest. His skin rubs against mine.

He rocks against me, his pace slow and steady, as though my always busy boss has the entire night to please me. I’m not as patient as he is. I grip his hands, closing his fingers around my aching nipples, clutching my breasts to the same rhythm.

“That’s it,” he murmurs into my ear. “Show me what you like, love, what you need.”

He called me love. I smile sleepily. This is the best dream ever. We move together as one, our tempo gradually building, the bed rocking. John nuzzles, nips, sucks on my neck, the stubble on his cheeks grazing my skin, sending tremors over my shoulders, down my back.

“Yes.” I undulate against him, caressing him with my entire body, loving him with everything I have. A wet sheen covers his chest, his arms. I turn my head and lick the moisture off his bulging left bicep, tasting his salt. If all of my fantasies feel this real, this right, I’ll survive our separation, living for the nights when I’ll see, touch, taste, smell him again.

“Yes,” John agrees, his lips humming against my earlobe. He pumps in and out of my tight pussy, and I savor all of him, the bloom of his cock head, the raised veins on his shaft, the coarse curls on his base.

I clench around him and he groans. “I won’t last long, not when you grip me like that,” he warns. I laugh and clench him again. “You’re a bad, bad assistant.” He thrusts harder, smacking his hips against my ass.

“Be bad with me, John.” I transfer one of his hands to my pussy, pressing the tip of his index finger against my clit. He circles the sensitive spot, winding my passion tighter and tighter around me.

“I won’t last long either,” I confess, my voice husky with need. “Not when you touch me like that.” I push back on him, his fingers making me crazed. “You feel so good.” He owns me with each hard stroke of his cock, dominating my body, my heart, my soul.

I pant, John grunts and the headboard thumps against the wall, the sounds of our joining intensifying my desire. There is no thought of the morning, of goodbye. There’s only the two of us. In this moment, he’s not a billionaire or my boss. He’s a man and I’m his woman. We’re two beings striving, struggling, fighting for our satisfaction.

I shake, each pleasure-laden tremor shredding more of my control. John takes me harder and harder, smacking his balls against my skin, and my form heats at all points of contact. He taps one of his fingertips against my clit, his touch causing my inner walls to close around his shaft, pushing us both toward the sweet edge of release.

“Please.” I reach back and grip his thighs, digging my nails into his skin.

“Come for me, Trella.” John teases my shoulder with his teeth. “Come now.” He thrusts hard and nips my skin, the pain propelling me over the vortex.

I scream, bucking against him. He tightens his hold on me, capturing my writhing body, as he drives one, two, three more times into me. It’s too much, too good, the ecstasy exquisite. I twist as John shudders with fulfillment. He doesn’t release me, folding my curves into his muscle, and I surrender to his power, quieting, my eyelids fluttering closed.

“I love you, John,” I whisper. This is a dream. I can tell him anything I want. “I’ve always loved you and I will always love you.” I’ve dated enough men to know John is special, the only man for me.

“I love you too, Trella,” John rumbles. “And I need you. I’ll always need you.” He says the words I want him to say.

I snuggle deeper into his body and smile, wishing I never had to wake up.

* * *

“Double the security detail and clear the area. I won’t be alone.” John’s deep voice rolls over me, a soothing sound I can listen to forever. I lie face down on soft white sheets. The sun’s rays stream in the window, warming my bare back.

“I’m well aware of the risks,” he says. “We won’t stay long.”

I turn my head toward him. John sits by the bed, dressed casually in blue jeans and a chest-hugging black T-shirt, his phone pressed to one ear. Although a baseball cap with a tattered bill shades his eyes, I know he’s watching me.

“We’ll be ready to leave in half an hour.” He lowers the phone.