Read an Excerpt

Anything He Wants

St. Martin's Press

The high point of my workdays lately was seeing the gorgeous stranger every morning.

I hurried through the lobby toward the elevators as fast as decorum and my heels would allow, passing ladders and service crews working on the old building's antiquated electrical systems. The dark-haired stranger arrived at the elevator like clockwork, at 8:20 A.M. every day, and this morning proved no exception. I jockeyed my way through the crowd until I stood close, but not conspicuously so, to the stranger and stared at the elevator doors while pretending to ignore him. It wasn't a game, although it sometimes felt that way. Men that handsome always stayed several steps outside my sphere of influence and this man was no different.

Didn't mean a girl couldn't dream.

The doors opened and I moved with the small crowd onto the elevator, making sure my floor was pressed. The old — or "historic," as some liked to say — building was in the midst of a full renovation. Everything was being upgraded to new, more modern settings, but for now they still had the older-style elevators. Smaller and slower than current models, the metal box nevertheless did its job as it chugged up to the floors above.

I rearranged the large satchel in my arm, sliding a glance sideways and catching his eye. Does he know I watch him? Flushing, I turned my gaze forward once again as the elevator opened to let another string of people off to their floors. My stop was still eleven floors away; I did data entry as temp work for Hamilton Industries. The company spanned most of the upper levels but my small cubicle was tucked away in a forgotten corner near the middle.

I loved the clean-cut, suited look, and the dark-haired man was always impeccably dressed in suits and ties that probably cost more than what I made in a month. Everything about him screamed high society, far out of my league, but that never stopped my fantasy life from including him. The handsome stranger was part of my dreams, the face I saw when I closed my eyes for bed. As I'd had nothing between my legs not run by batteries in well over a year, my fantasies were getting pretty kinky. I took a moment to think about them now and a slow smile spread across my face. It didn't take much to get me going, but the image in my mind of being pushed against a wall and ravaged ... Oh yeah.

Passengers continued to disembark and as the elevator doors shut, I pulled myself out of my reverie as I realized that, for the first time, I was actually alone with the stranger. Clearing my throat nervously, I smoothed down my pencil skirt with my free hand as the old elevator continued its trek up to my workplace. Breathe, Lucy, just breathe. Desire curled in my belly, fueled by thoughts of all sorts of naughty things in elevators. I wonder if this one has cameras....

I heard a faint rustle behind me, then a thick arm appeared beside me and pressed a red button on the panel. Immediately the elevator ground to a halt and before I could say anything, arms appeared on either side of my head and a low voice next to my ear murmured, "I see you on this elevator every morning. Your doing, I take it?"

Shocked into silence, I could only blink in wide-eyed confusion. Should I pinch myself? Is this really happening?

As I was pressed against the elevator doors by a hard body behind me, the cool metal against my suddenly hard and sensitive nipples elicited a breathy moan. "What —" I started, immediately forgetting whatever I was going to say as I felt his hard length press against my hip.

"I can smell your arousal," he growled, that low sexy voice making my stomach tighten. "Every morning you get on this elevator and I can smell your need." One hand moved down and entwined with mine as he dipped his head toward my neck. "What's your name?"

My mind went blank for a moment, forgetting the simplest of answers. Oh God, that voice is pure sex, I thought wildly, lifting my hands to brace myself against the hard surface before me. His voice was low and had a lilt I couldn't place, and my chest grew tight with need. "Lucy," I finally managed, hoping my brain was done short-circuiting.

"Lucy," he repeated, and I drew in a shaky breath at hearing my name said in that too-sexy voice. "I need to see if you taste as good as you smell."

There was no request for permission in his voice, only an implacable demand, and I rolled my head sideways to allow him access. His lips slid across the soft skin behind my ear, tongue flicking out to touch me; his teeth nipped the lobe and I moaned, pressing back against him. He rotated his hips and my breathing sped up, needy pants a staccato in the silence.

"God, you're so fucking hot." His hand trailed down the side of my body, across my hip and down my thigh until he found the hem of my skirt. His hand then retraced its steps back up, skimming lightly across the smooth skin of my inner thigh, pulling the material of my skirt up toward my hips. Unthinking, I spread my legs to give him access and gasped loudly as fingers slid along the outside of my soaked panties, pressing against my aching core.

Was this really happening? My body bucked, trapped between the metal doors and the hot body behind me. It was like every fantasy I'd ever had was being played out in person, and I was helpless to stop my conditioned response.

His fingers pulsed, sliding across my clit with increasing frequency, and my hips moved of their own volition, craving more of his touch. I cried out when his teeth sank into my shoulder, then his fingers slid beneath the thin cotton and lace and stroked my wet skin, pulling at my tender opening in a way that had me moaning loudly inside the elevator.

"Come for me," he murmured in his low Vin Diesel voice, lips and teeth running along the exposed line of my neck and shoulder. His fingers pushed deep inside, thumb flicking my hard nub, and with a strangled cry I came hard. My forehead rested against the hard steel of the door as I shuddered, suddenly boneless.

Below the numbered panel to my right, a telephone rang out.

I stiffened in shock, the blaring tones cutting through my murky haze. Lust gave way to mortification and I pushed against the door to free myself. The dark stranger stepped back, allowing me space, and pressed the red button again. I hastily rearranged my clothing as the elevator chugged back up the shaft; a few seconds later the telephone stopped ringing.

"You taste even better than I imagined."

I turned, helpless against that voice, to see him licking his fingers. The look he gave me made my knees weak, but the ringing phone had woken me up and I fumbled blindly for the floor buttons, pressing every button within my reach. This only seemed to amuse him, but when the doors opened to an empty hallway two floors below mine, I stumbled out. No people were in sight on this floor, to my relief — I wasn't sure I could take more attention right then.

A quick whistle behind me drew my attention and I turned to see the stranger pick up my satchel and hold it out to me. It had slid out of my arms, forgotten, to the floor while we were ... I cleared my throat and took it with as much dignity as I could muster.

He smiled, the simple expression changing his entire countenance. I stared, dumbstruck at his utter gorgeousness, as he winked at me. "I'll see you again," he said as the elevator doors shut, stranding me temporarily on the lower floor.

I took a deep breath and fumbled with my clothing, tucking my blouse into my waistband with shaky fingers. My panties were a lost cause — I'd have a wet spot on my dress all day if I continued to wear them. Focusing on that and not the growing embarrassment of my actions, I searched and found a bathroom nearby in which to clean myself up.

A few minutes later, clean but vulnerable without any underwear, I took the stairs up two flights to my floor. The halls leading to my area were packed with last-minute arrivals, and I made it to my cubicle without any problems. I was a minute late clocking in on the computer but nobody seemed to care as I got right to work, drowning myself in my job to try to forget my shocking display earlier.

The day passed in a mental jumble. No matter how I tried to focus on my work, I couldn't make myself concentrate. I found it necessary to double-, then triple-check my work to make sure I'd done it right. The temp data entry assignments I was given were tedious and brainless, but nevertheless I kept messing them up. My mind would flash back to the elevator, the handsome stranger and the first semipublic orgasm I ever had, and when I got back on track I couldn't remember what lines I'd entered in the computer.

This was so unlike me. I'd always been a sexual creature but had never been the type to know what to do about it. The boys never asked me out; I wasn't invited to parties or the like even in college. The few boyfriends I'd had, if they could be called that, hadn't stayed around long. My life at the moment was boring, mostly out of necessity — college loans didn't pay themselves, and living near the city made things even tighter — but I couldn't find much connection with most men. They wanted to go party, I wanted to read; they were Sports Illustrated, I was National Geographic.

Dating, while the least of my worries at the moment, was definitely not a strong point.

Despite my attempts to forget the whole situation in the elevator, by lunch I desperately wanted my vibrator and a swift kick in the rear. My actions and instant response to the stranger were troublesome, regardless of my fantasy life. It couldn't happen again no matter how much I may have wanted a repeat. I needed this job, even if it was monotonous, and I couldn't afford any more distractions. But my job didn't require much brainpower to begin with and I couldn't stop remembering how soft his lips were, and how his teeth across the skin of my shoulder sent shivers down my spine. His large hands had held a dual promise of strength and tenderness that my body refused to forget.

It was a long day.

Barely managing to get my quota of files archived and turned in by the end of the day, I contemplated taking the stairs down fourteen flights but finally opted for the elevator, which I made sure was stranger-free. I cut through the underground parking garage while the bulk of the crowd headed for the taxis out front. Few people were able to park under the building; certainly not a new temp, even if I did have a car. But cutting through the garage was a much faster route to the subway station two streets away, and nobody had told me the shortcut was off-limits.

I headed down the single flight of steps and out into the chilly afternoon air of the underground garage. The squeal of tires came from somewhere in the multilevel complex but I saw nobody else, just lines of cars. Rubbing my arms, the bite in the air promising cold temperatures as soon as the sun set, I turned toward the guard shack, wishing I'd brought something to slip over my arms. It was late spring but the weather had taken a colder turn over the last few days and I wasn't dressed appropriately.

Someone grabbed my arm and jerked me sideways into the shadows beside me. Before I could make a sound, a hand clapped over my mouth, and I was dragged back into a small alcove half hidden from the rest of the garage that was reserved for motorcycles. I struggled but the arms holding me were implacable, like iron across my body.

"I did tell you I would see you soon." The voice was familiar and deep, and I recognized it immediately. It had been running through my head all day long in fantasies I'd tried in vain to stamp out.

As soon as I heard his voice a wave of relief washed over me, followed quickly by confused anger. Why on earth do I trust him? Frustrated by my own apparent stupidity, I stomped down as hard as I could on the instep of the stranger's foot. He grunted but didn't release me, instead spinning me and pressing me up against the cold concrete wall. His body molded itself to my back, hands holding my wrists against the concrete. "You can fight," he murmured, running his lips along the back of my ear. "I like that."

His casual dismissal annoyed me. I threw my head back, trying to hit him in the face, but he ducked out of the way with a chuckle. Another attempt to stomp his foot with my pump was foiled when his leg snaked between mine, leaving me unable to struggle that way. The fingers around my wrists, softer than iron manacles but no less firm, set fire to my skin without giving me any room to move.

"Let me go or I'll scream," I said in an even voice, trying to turn my head to catch his eye. It frustrated the hell out of me that I was neither afraid nor as angry as I knew I should be; the man was once again prompting the wrong feelings for the situation. I had to be brain damaged if I thought I could trust the man when I didn't even know his name!

He leaned forward, pressing his face against my hair and taking a deep breath. The appreciative rumble deep in his throat reverberated throughout my body. "I couldn't stop thinking about you all day," he murmured, not acknowledging my threat. His thumbs made light circles on my wrists and my body clenched at the almost tender motion. "How quickly you responded to me, your smell, your taste."

I swallowed, trying to ignore the sudden flutter in my belly. No, I thought desperately, I can't be turned on by this. The sight of him looming over me, however — his hard hot body pressing against my back — was making my head whirl and limbs ache to wrap around him. Dammit. "Let me go," I said between gritted teeth, trying to ignore my body's traitorous reactions. "This is wrong, I don't want ..."

He laid a soft kiss on the skin behind my ear as I trailed off, a stark contrast to the unbreakable grip in which he held my wrists. My breath caught in my throat as lips and teeth dragged down my neck as his hips rolled against my backside, his hard length sliding along the crease. "I would never take a woman who doesn't want me," he murmured, moving to whisper in my other ear. "Say 'no' and I will leave you alone forever." He ran his lips down the side of my throat, giving my shoulder a gentle bite as he waited for my answer.

By now I was shaking, but not in any kind of fear or distress. When one of his hands left my wrist and skimmed along the underside of my arm I didn't move, reveling in the sensations his touch produced. His hand moved up the back of my thigh under my skirt, fingernails raking the skin, and a finger slid between the firm lobes of my backside. He gave a growl, squeezing my butt with both hands and spreading the cheeks, then pressed between them with the hard bulge still locked behind his pants. A moan slipped from my mouth as I arched my hips back, using the wall as leverage to get closer.

The hands left me and I was flipped around to face him. I had a brief close-up glimpse of a familiar handsome face and green eyes, then his lips crashed against mine in the hottest kiss of my life. I responded, arching closer so I was flush against his body. I slid my hands across his torso, moving them up and through his hair, but he grabbed my hands and stretched them high above my head. A leg between my thighs pushed me higher and I ground my hips, rubbing myself against the rock-hard thigh. Breathy moans escaped my lips as he moved his mouth lower, sucking and nibbling on the sensitive skin of my neck.

"I want to feel your mouth on me," he murmured, gliding his lips up my neck and jawline. "I want to see you on your knees, that perfect mouth around my cock ..."

This time when I tried to free myself he didn't stop me, instead he stepped back and set me on my feet. My hands went immediately to his waistband, sliding down the zipper. He reached down to help me, and as he pulled his member free of the pants I sank down on my heels and flicked the tip with my tongue. He tasted clean, and the sharp intake of breath above told me he liked what I was doing. His need was my own; I felt a fresh wave of heat between my legs as I moved my head forward, sucking the head deep.

"God!" His body shuddered and, suddenly bolder, I wrapped a hand around the thick base and pulled him farther into my mouth. My tongue rolled along the base and flicked the tip, then I started bobbing my head over the thick member. His hips jerked, thrusting in time with my mouth; a hand came to rest behind my head, pulling insistently, but I controlled the pace. I undid the button of his pants and reached inside, cupping his balls with my free hand. He shook above me, dick jumping in appreciation, then both hands dug into my skull, pulling me closer and silently demanding more, deeper. This time I obliged, releasing the base and pulling him in as far as I could, bobbing and weaving with my head and tongue. My free hand slid down between my legs, gliding through my wet folds and pressing against the throbbing nub.

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Excerpted from Anything He Wants by Sara Fawkes. Copyright © 2012 Sara Fawkes. Excerpted by permission of St. Martin's Press.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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