Maliciously Obedient Part 18

A choked cry from his lips sent a tingle of power, of victory through her, for she knew that he was about to know it, to know her. And her own o.r.g.a.s.m came slamming into her with that knowledge, sending her over, tipping her into ecstasy, into a nerve release that pulsated out of her like a supernova as she bucked and screamed and leaned down, biting his shoulder, calling nonsense into his flesh as they thrust and thrust and thrust toward a new and complete abandon, giving in, finally, to what they restrained for far too long.

He kissed her as aftershocks coursed through her, his lips less sure and more just wanting connection. She slipped over him, full to the brim with his c.o.c.k, which she began to feel loosen inside. Her breath on his ear, his breath in turn on her neck, seemed like testimony to the pa.s.sion that they had just spent.

"f.u.c.k me," he gasped. Combing her fingers through her hair, she lifted up and smiled, a coy look of teasing.

"Is that an order?"

They both fell into easy chuckles, her body poured over his, ear pressed to his chest and hearing the steady thump-THUM-thump-THUM of his heart. One knee hitched up and her thigh stretched across his hip, his hands making lazy caresses across her shoulder. Comfortable. Coc.o.o.ned.

Sated.

Finally. Giving in to her attraction had been a terrible professional move, but if he'd only wanted a clean f.u.c.k he'd have gone about it quite differently. This snuggling, how his breath played on her forehead, the way he rested on the couch completely naked, confident in his own skin, made her feel something she has nearly driven out, purposefully, since he'd arrived.

Hope.

I'm Batman, he kept thinking, the phrase looping endlessly through his mind right now, channeling the moment in the movie when Bruce Wayne wants a needs a to reveal his true ident.i.ty. Nestled close to him, half-naked and covered in his juices, Lydia was a G.o.ddess, a wild-fire woman with a hedonistic streak that came out during s.e.x.

Thank G.o.d.

Kissing her forehead, he stroked her arm as the endorphin rush kicked in, making him settle into this state, nowhere else he'd rather be right now. Michael Bournham had finally found a woman who could complete so much that was unfinished in his life, and yet a He had to accept her as Matt Jones.

Panting, he stared at the ceiling, noting how harsh the cheap fluorescent lights were and making a mental list of ways he could upgrade the offices for the middle-management and clerical staff. How romantic, a voice in his head intoned. It sounded suspiciously like Jeremy. It didn't faze him that he was completely naked, formerly-throbbing member now wilting, the chill of air conditioning triggering gooseflesh over every inch of carefully-tanned skin.

The truth crouched in his throat, waiting to spring forward, owing her so much, wanting her even more. Needing this moment to last forever, he inhaled her scent, that sweet vanilla tinged with her musk, imprinting in his nose, his mind, his heart. Lydia deserved to know the truth, a reveal so great he nearly shook with the prospect of saying the words. Being Matt Jones had been very hard at first, but now?

Being himself was harder.

His eyes crawled over the window, thirty-odd floors above the city, the cars and streetlights and people seeming so big compared to his normal view from the executive suite on the top floor. How cute. How real, like Lydia, her soft curves a stark contrast to the angular, hungry women he normally dated, women who spent nine hours a week with an expensive trainer to convince and cajole their bodies into fighting aging, often winning. Trading down for a younger model never appealed to him; he tended to date women who were seasoned enough to be interesting, but these days they were all the same, like well-honed reproductions of fine art. Good enough to stare at but lacking something he couldn't put his finger on.

Lydia? Now Lydia he had put his finger on. And in. And a What have you done, Mike? She thinks you're Matt, he reminded himself. A deep, cleansing breath didn't help, the air redolent with her scent. Of their scent. Of -- Oh, s.h.i.+t.

A tiny red light blinked at a regular rate in a spot perched just above the threshold to his office. He squinted, then slowly closed his eyes, a long sigh pus.h.i.+ng as many traces of her out of his air supply, leaving him as empty of her as possible so he could fill his body with logic. Resting his head on his folded arm and the top of the couch, his ear against the back of one hand, his brain raced into full-blown catastrophe management mode.

A quick glance up showed the light had turned off. Someone had to do that manually; Jonah had explained the process to him.

Not what he wanted to see, because that meant a He had forgotten about the cameras.

Coming Soon Thank you so much for reading Maliciously Obedient! I hope you enjoyed it, and if so, please write a review so that other readers can find it! Lend it to friends if the eBook platform you used allows for that, and please let friends know that if you sign up for my mailing list you can learn about special sales, freebies, and more a right at the moment they happen.

Look for the next in the three-book "Obedient" series, Suspiciously Obedient, coming in May 2013.

A fake persona with very real emotions...

As "Matt Jones," CEO playboy Michael Bournham just stumbled into his wildest dream and worst nightmare as he played a middle-management employee role for a reality television stunt. Getting caught making love with his administrative a.s.sistant, Lydia Charles, on camera meant that unscrupulous Hollywood producers blackmailed him before launching the video on YouTube. Fired from his job, ridiculed on every social media platform out there, Mike needs to hit "reboot" on his life. When his best friend begs him to go to Thailand on a fun trip, he sends Jeremy instead to Iceland, to watch over Lydia. Meanwhile, he disguised himself once more and booked a cabin at Lydia's family's campground in Maine, to immerse himself in her world.

A best friend with deeper intentions...

After more than ten years of world travel and hedonistic fun, dot-com millionaire Jeremy wants more out of his friends.h.i.+p with Mike, but more than that a he wants Lydia. Struck by her beauty and essence, he follows Mike's order and obeys, courting her with a friends.h.i.+p that quickly becomes more. A deeper bond forms, charged by Lydia's fantasies about him a and Mike. Unable to resist, he becomes her confidante and bed mate, helping her to come to grips with her impulsive decisions and to find her way back home to Maine.

A woman torn by desire...

Lydia accepts the move to Iceland to become the Director of Communications for European Operations not realizing it's a sham; Michael Bournham created the position to help hide her from the firestorm of the viral s.e.x tape. Living in a new country should be fun, right? Side glances and whispers from her new Icelandic employees dig at her, and ignored by her boss at Bournham Industries, Lydia's disenchantment with her bold move is softened only by the appearance of Jeremy. Wild and loose, he fills a void in her life a and soon fills her bed.

When she decides there's no place like home, the new couple embarks for her family's campground a and Jeremy's suspicious obedience will be revealed.

Here's an excerpt from Suspiciously Obedient: Silver hair followed by China-blue eyes filled the room, sucking the air out of her lungs and making all the blood in her body rush to her V. There stood Michael Bournham, his body encased in some sort of s.h.i.+mmery grey t-s.h.i.+rt, made from an impossibly-fine fabric, and jeans that looked painted on by Michaelangelo himself. Sungla.s.ses hung from a strap around his neck, and his look was of such intensity that the rest of the world melted away, breaking apart molecule by molecule as everything converged into one, simple atom.

Them.

"Lydia," he said, and his voice seemed different. Smokier. More commanding. In her heart she knew this was Matt. Matt Jones. The same man she'd hated, then grudgingly liked, then pined for, and finally submitted to a eagerly. No different today than two days ago, aside from eye and hair color. He wasn't worth the strange reaction her body and brain elicited, electric thrumming creating a frequency that pounded away at her pulse, her thoughts, her heart.

Being Michael Bournham should have meant absolutely nothing. Her hands had stroked this man. Her mouth had kissed this man. Her body had accepted this man into her, thrusting and urgent and fevered and hot, pus.h.i.+ng and bucking for more of him.

His skin was the same, sandy hair sprinkled in all the right places. In the closet, in the elevator, in his office, in her own d.a.m.n bed, those hands had touched her flesh, alternating between tender and coa.r.s.e, powerful caresses, the ability to s.h.i.+ft from one state to the other an exquisite, almost divine, gift.

Metamorphosis went both ways then, no? If he could change touch so easily, why not ident.i.ty?

Who had she really f.u.c.ked, after all? Ah. That was the $64,000 question.

Aim higher, Lydia.

The near-billion dollar question. Everyone knew about Michael Bournham's quest for his billion dollar empire. Everyone. From mail room guys to senior vice presidents, the austerity measures at Bournham Industries over the past eighteen months had been all about him. A contract signed in his blood, practically, with the board of directors had made headlines for weeks, garnering headlines in The Economist, Wall Street Journal a even Rolling Stone had done a feature on him and his b.a.l.l.sy move.

What part did she play in this race to drive profits high enough to win his bet? A viral s.e.x tape might smear his reputation, but in the end he'd just be labeled a bad boy, another renegade playboy rolling in more money than G.o.d. Publicity, though a that was gold. Getting the Bournham name in the news, on YouTube (h.e.l.l, Youp.o.r.n), increasing branding by a social media factor of hundreds a the value of f.u.c.king her on camera was, well a Priceless.

Priceless precisely because she had no price tag. What he had done happened with her full consent a the physical act, that is.

The taping?

That violated her to the bone.

"I am so, so sorry," he rasped, voice shaking with emotion. Not nervous; guys like Michael Bournham were never nervous. They were in complete control every f.u.c.king second of their lives, right? Letting them get "caught" on tape was all about micromanaging every second of his time with her. Fake, fake, fake a it had all been a giant ruse, Matt Jones' attraction to her, his intensity in the elevator, those warm arms around her in the supply close, hot mouth on her c.l.i.t, thick c.o.c.k driving her open and pounding her to ecstasy. What else was on tape? In some editing room in L.A. was an a.s.sistant splicing together more film of their intimate encounters, ready to run on the E! channel? Would she be the subject of a Tosh monologue? Or was she going to be The Daily Show's Moment of Zen?

Sorry? He was sorry? If Michael Bournham had used her to ride a social media wave so great she would be "s.e.x tape girl" well into her golden years, the subject of ridicule on Fark, SomethingAwful, Reddit and beyond, then she really only had one choice, as he watched her, eyes hawklike and predatory, clearly here with one purpose: to win her over.

Her choice, though, was to stay the course. What she needed to do was to follow his final order as her boss.

To maliciously obey.

And More...

Also coming in April 2013: Menage Match, Inc., a new series featuring Josie from the Her Two Billionaires series. After watching Laura, Dylan and Mike fall in love (and in plenty of messes), Josie decides that what the world needs is more of this a ways to find true love outside the mainstream. A chance encounter at her job makes her see that maybe she's meant to walk a different career path, and when Laura offers some start-up capital, Menage Match, Inc. is born.

A dating service to help people find permanent menage matches a for love.

More Than Enough is Never Too Much...join Josie on her mission to make perfect triads a maybe, just maybe, starting with her own...

Stay tuned a loads of luscious fun is right around the corner....

Check out all my books:.

Her First Billionaire.

Her Second Billionaire.

Her Two Billionaires.

Her Two Billionaires and a Baby.

About the Author.

Julia Kent turned to writing romance novels after learning that she could not work as a fighter pilot because her fear of flying disqualified her. Turning to her second love, she became a dog groomer, but had to abandon that job after adopting too many strays. Writing about very real, very flawed people is a natural extension of her life and, well, her. She lives on the east coast with her partner, two small children, seventeen dogs that weigh less than fifteen pounds each, and a monthly consumption of Nutella, brie and french bread that makes cardiologists cringe.

She loves to hear from her readers by email at , on Twitter @jkentauthor and on Facebook (Like me!) at http://www.facebook.com/julia.kent.100 Sign up for my New Releases and Sales email list at my blog to get the latest scoop on new eBooks, special sales, freebies and more: New Releases by Julia Kent.

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