Page 106 of Wicked Fantasies

“I hardly think marriage equates to?—”

“I want you to listen to me and I want you to actually hear the words coming out of my mouth. I’m not getting married. Ever. I’m not even looking for a relationship. You and I are colleagues, Reed. That’s it. That’s all it’s ever going to be. Our games—these fantasy nights—are just that and nothing more. Don’t lose sight of that.”

She turned and left. He was about to follow when the man behind the counter called out his name to tell him his food was ready. He turned back, pulled out his wallet and paid. His mind replayed her words until his temple began to throb.

What had just happened? And what the hell was he supposed to do now? For the first time in his life, Reed’s confidence faltered. Shit, it hadn’t just fallen.

It had crashed and burned.

Trudgingup the stairs to her apartment, Frankie let herself in, dropping her purse by the door. She’d thoroughly fucked up tonight. Hell, she’d been fucking up consistently for the past month. Seeing her parents reminded her of why she’d avoided the trap of a relationship.

Christ. Reed thought she needed to settle down? What the hell did he think she was doing now? Just biding her time, waiting for Mr. Right to come along and save her from her terrible life? She loved her job. She was proud of all she’d achieved. Screw Reed Donovan. Screw her father. Screw all men.

She walked down the hallway to her bathroom, undressing as she went. Turning on the shower, she waited for the water to heat up as she tried to get her temper under control. Maybe she’d be better off taking a cold shower.

Glancing down, she saw the faint marks of whisker burns left on her breasts by Reed. His five o’clock shadow had added a sexy edge to the sensations he’d tantalized her with last night. Lying beneath him as he took her was an image she expected to carry with her to her grave. Her body flushed with memories of their sensual interlude on the couch in his office. She couldn’t recall ever feeling so wanted, so adored. So loved.

She pushed the thought aside. No. It was just sex. That was all it had ever been. She forced that idea into her mind, repeating it, wishing it would penetrate her stubborn heart.

Just sex. Climbing into the shower, she let her thoughts drift back to Reed’s kisses and she felt a twinge in her pussy. He’d filled her perfectly, touching all the hot spots in her body.

Just sex. She dragged her fingers down her stomach until she found her clit. Rubbing lightly at first, then increasing the pressure and speed, she let the memory of riding him, kissing him, play over in her mind. Bending forward, she leaned her head and arm against the wall, breathing heavily as her fingers worked their magic against her clit.

Just sex. She rubbed her herself faster as she imagined Reed’s fingers on her hips, gripping her tightly, directing their play. She thrust three fingers into her pussy, still sensitive from his lovemaking the night before. His deep voice and the words “you’ll never be alone again” reverberated in her mind. She gave herself up to her climax.

She trembled beneath the water as she came down from the orgasm. Her mind whirled over the fact she couldn’t even think of Reed without wanting him. Hell, she’d had sex with him less than twenty-four hours ago, and already she was masturbating to the memory.

She stood slowly, finished her shower and turned the water off. Reaching for a towel, she let her mind wander over all the things she and Reed had shared. While the fantasies had been amazing, she found herself equally enthralled by the man himself. The conversations, the dreams and fears they’d confided to each other. Somewhere along the line, he stopped being an adversary and a colleague. Instead, he’d become a friend, a lover.

She dried off, sighing heavily.

It was time to get things back on track. Time to grasp the reins of control once more. She pulled back the sheets and crawled into bed.

One more bid. One more fantasy. Then she was taking her life back.

Chapter Eight

Blindfolded, Frankie held her arms out in front of her and tried not to let Reed see them trembling. He’d shown up at her apartment, banging on the door at two in the morning. At first, she’d wondered if he was drunk. Then he calmly informed her they were both about to collect on their last bet. He’d given her five minutes to “throw on something decent,” led her to a taxi downstairs, where he covered her eyes. They’d won the Wedded Bliss account—the good news had arrived early this morning.

Reed hadn’t approached her at all today other than to say congratulations, and she’d thought she was safe. Thought after their argument in the restaurant five nights earlier he’d given up on the game and the bet was off. After returning to the office the morning after leaving him to pay for the takeout, Reed had simply told her which part of the presentation he was going to work on, and left her alone for the rest of the day. Since then, all their exchanges had been professional, work-related conversations.

She’d put all her energy, all her thoughts into the project and it was apparent Reed had done the same. Landing the deal had been bittersweet. Mainly because Frankie knew it would be her last presentation for The Donovan Group. She’d turned in her letter of resignation to Brian just before five o’clock this afternoon. She’d simply slid the letter on his desk and left.

Distance was the only thing that was going to help her fight her attraction to Reed. Distance and time and crying and lots and lots of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream. Leaving was her only option. Men like Reed, like her father, could never accept an independent, career-oriented woman, and she would never be content to stay home and raise a family. It simply wasn’t in her.

She took a steadying breath. One last hurdle to clear before freedom. She’d take this last fantasy. Take it and hold on to it tightly. She was too tired to deny him anything tonight.

“Are we there yet?”

He was walking in front of her, guiding her to God knew where. She couldn’t control her racing heart or rapid breathing. She listened as he unlocked a door and led her inside. She started to remove the blindfold, but he grasped her wrists to halt her.

“Not yet.”

She cursed her damned nervousness. She wanted this fantasy, but she feared one more encounter with Reed might be one too many. This one was destined to destroy her. She’d lost all her powers of resistance and she was afraid the mask would slip. Afraid he’d see her tonight in all her true colors.

“It’s not too late to change your mind, Frankie.”

Shit. He’d seen her distress. That knowledge sent her hackles up, screamed of a dare, and she felt a sudden calm wash over her. She wasn’t weak. She wasn’t powerless. She was a woman taking what she wanted. She let her silent mantra—hell, pep talk—soothe her.

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