My dress is now around my waist, baring my breasts and my sheer lacy knickers, which Nick grabs with both hands, ripping them from my hips.
“Fuck,” he mutters. “You’re driving me crazy. I want you wet. I want you wet and begging.”
I’m already there. He shifts until he’s between my thighs.
I can’t form words to answer. But I open my legs wider, and he can see just how wet I already am.
“I need to fuck you. Tell me to stop. Tell me now.” His words are mumbled as his lips never leave my skin, but I hear every word as though I can read his mind.
“No. Don’t. Don’t you dare stop.” I’m breathing so hard I can barely get the words out.
That’s all he needs to hear. Rising on his knees, he slides his zipper down. Pushing the denim and his boxers down his thighs, Nick takes his erection in his hand. It’s long and thick and beautiful, a drop of pre-cum already beading and tracing across the head. He strokes himself as he fixes his hungry eyes on my face.
“Last chance,” he rumbles.
Rather than answer, I reach out and take him in my hand. The word condom whispers in the back of my mind, but I can’t hold on to the thought. Can’t think of anything but the need to feel him inside me. My eyes never leaving his, I rub the head of his cock between my legs, grazing my clit. Pressing his hips forward he slides the tip into me, holding it there with tiny pulses for what feels like forever before lunging forward, filling me in one hard thrust.
I can’t help but cry out, but there are no words. Only noises, gasps and groans. His thrusts are rough, like his hands and mouth, and I love it. My hands are in his hair as he sucks hard on my neck. Then he’s rearing up, dragging my hips up his thighs and pulling my legs up and over his chest. He doesn’t even break rhythm. His fingers dig deep into the flesh of my hips and I know they’ll leave bruises. This is angry fucking at its best. And I love it. I love it all.
I can feel the pressure building, and I’m gasping for breath. Then Nick’s thumb slides over my clit and suddenly I’m exploding, my body stiffening then quaking with release.
“Yes, that’s it,” he gasps as his back arches and I feel his cock pulse as he follows me over the edge, roaring his release.
Nick drops forward, bracing on his forearms, eyes closed, his forehead resting on mine, his sweat dripping onto my face. We’re both breathing too hard to speak. He’s still inside me, still hard. Time slows, along with our breathing, and then those silvery eyes are open, seeming to see right inside me to the secret self we all keep hidden. I should be worried, but for this fleeting moment, I feel like I can see inside him too, both of us unguarded, before the shutters come down in his eyes.
“Well, that wasn’t quite what I was expecting,” I croak.
Nick stands, hitches his jeans up and heads to the kitchen. I hear the fridge opening and ice clinking. Sitting up, I drag my dress over my boobs and down my thighs, pushing my hair out of my face. I must look a mess, but right now, I can’t find the energy to care.
“I don’t know what came over me. I apologise.” Nick hands me a glass of water, his face expressionless below his just-fucked hair. He can’t meet my eyes, which is unlike him, and I know I won’t like what’s coming. But I refuse to make it easy for him by jumping in with a response. The silence stretches between us. “This was a mistake. It should never have happened.” His voice is as expressionless as his face. He’s dropped straight into lawyer mode with barely a blink.
I take a moment to process his words, my brain still sluggish with orgasm hormones. “You’re sorry? A mistake? Seriously? You really are a piece of work.” Infuriated by his words, I gulp some water, put the glass on the coffee table and stand up, searching for my bag. As furious as I am with him, I’m equally annoyed at myself. What was I expecting?
“If you could have your comments on my proposal to Harry on Monday, I would appreciate it. And don’t worry, nobody will ever hear about this from me.” I can feel my cheeks blazing and angry tears are starting to gather in my eyes. I need to get out of here. Fast. Before they start to fall and he thinks he’s hurt my feelings. Damn angry crying.
I turn at the door. Nick is still standing beside the scene of the crime, head bowed, glass of water dangling from his very clever fingers.
“You know, you didn’t need to be such a prick. It was just angry sex. I get it. You don’t like me. I don’t like you. I wasn’t imagining a happy-ever-after or anything. I’m not any happier about it than you.”
He looks up, finally meeting my eyes, and even from a distance, I can feel the regret rolling off him. “It was unprofessional. We have to work together. Unfortunately.” Leaving me to wonder what he is sorrier about—having had sex with me or having to work with me. Both if I had to guess.
“Yes. That is unfortunate. But you know what? I can keep it professional if you can.” And with that, I slam the door behind me.
By the time the Uber arrives, I’m no longer in danger of an angry cry. I text Ro to let her know I won’t be making it to the party after all—I’m in no fit state to be seen by anyone after what just happened—and head straight home. She calls me in a matter of seconds, and I can hear the party going on in the background.
“Is everything okay? I thought you were on your way?”
“Yeah, I’m okay. But I’ve done something monumentally stupid.” Those angry tears are threatening again.
“What? What did you do? Weren’t you going to Nicholas the Tardy’s to …? Oh my god. You had sex with him, didn’t you?” It’s like she has a sixth sense. Maybe she’s psychic.
“Ugh. Yes. Angry, angry hot sex.” I feel the curious look of the Uber driver through the rear-view mirror, but honestly, I’m beyond caring.
“You dirty bird. Was it amazing? Hang on, let me go somewhere quieter …” The sounds of the party recede and then stop as I hear a door bang. “So? Details?”
“This is not funny, Ro. I have to work with this guy. And now he’s seen me naked. Well, almost. And I’ve seen his orgasm face. And afterwards …” I fill Rosanna in on our post-sex conversation.
“What a bastard. Well, at least now you’ve scratched the itch. You should be able to put it behind you and move on. Which should be much easier since he was a prick. Yes?”
