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the art of seduction

Anita tries to seduce Jean-Claude on one of those rare occasions when he's not in the mood.
Rated PG-13
Disclaimer: All characters, situations, and universe belong to author Laurell K. Hamilton.  No profits will be made from this fic.  This is just a twisted hobby of mine.


Jean-Claude shouldn't have been surprised to see me, but he acted like he was. He looked up when I walked into his office at Guilty Pleasures and did a fast double-take like I was the last person he expected to see tonight.

Normally he would have smiled. Normally he would have stood up to greet me, kissed me, and taken me into his arms. Tonight he just sat at his desk and frowned. After two weeks, I was expecting something a little more enthusiastic than that.

I could already feel he was in a rare temper. Then, he was buried up to his elbows in files and paperwork and had been nearly every night for the past eight days. I had not seen or heard from him the entire time.

The problem being, the proverbial shit had hit the fan here at Guilty Pleasures. His manager had been on vacation for three weeks and his assistant manager was stuck on jury duty of all things. I'd also heard through the grapevine, the application for renewal of Jean-Claude's liquor license had been misplaced by some newbie file clerk and now it was past due. He was having to complete and send off another before he could make the necessary appointments to have it approved. To top it all off, one of the door alarms kept malfunctioning and summoning the police--that was kind of funny though, everyone thought the place was being raided--then two of Jean-Claude's human dancers and one of his waiters had come down with some kind of stomach flu. Well, everyone was hoping it was a stomach virus and not something like botulism poisoning. So now Jean-Claude was also short-staffed and at this time of year, he really couldn't afford to be.

We were in the height of the tourist season and every business Jean-Claude owned was raking in the revenue. Usually that was a good thing, but circumstances being the way they were, it wouldn't have hurt anyone's feelings if business could ease up a bit. Jean-Claude had been forced to cover for his vacationing manager now just to hold everything in at the seams.

And here I thought a visit from me might cheer him up. Well, just seeing him cheered me up. I had actually gotten to the point that I missed him. Maybe it had something to do with the marks, but lately I was feeling the need to be close to him. Just to look at him, talk to him, touch him. Actually, what I really wanted to do was screw him 'til he screamed. Maybe I was just horny. But I fed the ardeur nightly and had an impressive line-up of comely and willing men at my disposal to scratch all those random itches that came up. Sometimes, I got the kind of itch only Jean-Claude could scratch. And tonight, I wanted to be scratched raw.

Unfortunately, from the looks of things, I was just going to have to find myself another back scratcher. I could tell by the look on his face, the tension in his body, and the tone of his voice when he finally spoke that sex was the last thing on his mind. It would appear, a little appetizer of seduction was on the menu for tonight.

"What brings you all the way out here this evening, ma petite?" he said, sounding slightly tired, a bit peeved, and more than a little wary. He probably thought I was only here because some crisis had come up that I needed his help with.

Oh god, another crisis. I'd bet good money that that was exactly what he was thinking as he sat staring up at me. I couldn't help but feel a little insulted by it. There'd been plenty of times when I came to him just because I wanted to see him. I couldn't think of any off the top of my head, but I was sure I had.

I walked over to his desk, since he obviously wasn't going to make the effort to come to me, and stepped around it to stand beside him. He looked up at me expectantly.

"What? Can't I just stop by because I want to see you?" I grumbled.

His expression softened somewhat, probably in relief, and he made an attempt to smile. It didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Of course. It is just...that this is not a very good time. Perhaps later this week? Right now," here he paused and gestured at the stack of documents and file folders scattered over his desk, "I must finish these applications."

I put my hands on my hips and looked down at him incredulously. He had been excruciatingly polite, but hidden in the deep dark shadows of that velvety voice had been all kinds of unspoken meaning. Namely: scram, Anita! I bit back the cutting remark at the tip of my tongue and peered at the computer monitor in front of him. He had been transferring data from various files to an online application of sorts. Ah. Probably for the renewal of his license. I glanced back at him.

"I didn't know you knew how to use a computer," I told him, genuinely impressed. That's quite a feat for a four-hundred plus year old vampire.

He frowned. "I don't, exactly. I have been using the drop-screen tutorials and accomplishing what little I have mostly through trial and error. For such a popular machine, its complexities can be quite...exasperating at times."

"Well, I'm not a thirteen-year-old boy, but maybe I can help," I offered. I'm not sure he got my reference to the brilliance of teenage boys when it comes to computers, but it didn't matter. Maybe between the two of us, we could get the applications done in half the time. Then we could play. "I can't type exactly, but I can hen-peck pretty fast. Or, I could read information to you if you'd rather." I picked up on of the thicker files and thumbed through it.

Sighing as if in infinite patience, Jean-Claude gently pried the file out of my hands and replaced it exactly where I had taken it from.

"No. But thank you for your most generous offer," he said quietly in a deep, measured voice. "I have everything sorted and I know exactly what I need and where it is. A working system. To incorporate you into the middle of it would only confuse us both." He offered me a rather condescending smile now. "Please, ma petite. I will call you later. I promise." Then he gestured at the door.

For a minute, I stood gazing down at him with my mouth hanging open. I couldn't believe he wanted to be rid of me so soon. I had just gotten here. I had driven all this way. I was wearing perfume and makeup and one of my better, shorter skirts. Heels and garters and stockings. He should have taken one look at me tonight and ripped his clothes off.

Maybe he really had no clue what I had in mind for us tonight. Usually he could smell sexual desire in someone a mile away. He was like a male moth in that sense. But then, he was clearly distracted this evening. And for once it wasn't with sex. Just my luck.

I moved closer to him and purposefully leaned my hip against his arm. "Why don't you take a little break from all that?" I suggested, lowering my voice and running my fingernail down his spine.

He jumped like he had been zapped with electricity and pushed away from me with such force he almost rolled his chair off the floor space behind his desk and onto the carpet. I was kind of half-hoping he would. At least then he'd be horizontal. But he caught himself just in time by grabbing the edge of his desk. Then he took a deep breath and roughly massaged his eyes with his hand.

"I don't want to take a break," he said a little too evenly. "I want to get this done." He looked up at me and sighed. "I am very busy now, ma petite. Please try to understand. I simply have too much to do."

I knew then he had been more than aware of my intentions and also determined not to oblige me. But just being near him again and having touched him now had only worsened my craving for him. Images and recollections of times we'd made love began playing out in my mind like a triple-x movie. I couldn't seem to stop them and wondered if they were my memories or his.

He glared at me suddenly and pointed a long, slender finger at me threateningly. "Stop that this instant."

I grinned. Obviously they were my memories, and they were invading his mind for a change."Doesn't that look like fun?" I purred. Thoughts of sex were distracting him now, and I knew he'd give in to me eventually and with the right kind of persuasion, I'd have him on his back over the top of his desk in no time. Conquests of such nature were always a challenge, but then if it's worthwhile, it is worth the effort.

He chose not to answer my question however. Instead, he made a sweeping gesture with his hand over his desk. "Do you see all this? This is hours of work. If I am fortunate enough, I will finish most of it tonight. Tomorrow night will be a little better. And the night after that, better still. Why tonight, ma petite? Of all nights? I have to work tonight. I am sorry."

"You'll be sorry," I shot back. "You're getting so stressed over all this." I stepped behind him and started massaging his shoulders. "You need to kick back and relax a little. Let me help you."

God, he was stressed. His muscles were so tight, I might as well have been massaging a brick. I delved my hands into his hair and used my fingertips to rub his scalp.

He moaned, but something told me it wasn't in appreciation, but frustration.

"Ma petite, please," he fairly begged.I chuckled cruelly.

"No. No mercy," I said triumphantly. I knew he was weakening, soon to be conquered. To kind of help things along, I bent over and nipped his earlobe.

Jean-Claude squirmed out from under my hands, swiveling his chair around to face me. "Go...stand over there!" He gestured at the other side of his desk.

I grinned. "I don't want to stand all the way over there. I want to stand here." As it was, I was right where he needed to be if he was going to resume working. I crooked my finger at him. "Come." I winked at him and licked my lips slowly. "I'll behave. Just let me rub your shoulders. It'll make you feel better. It'll make me feel better."

Much to my surprise, he shook his head. "I know what you are trying to do, ma petite, and yet I am forced to tell you again, I cannot indulge you tonight."

I frowned now. "Indulge me, huh? You make it sound like an impossibility but I happen to know you've got everything you need to satisfy my every desire right underneath those tight black jeans." I sauntered over to him and sunk to my knees in front of him.

Placing my hands on the arms of his chair, I leaned forward, purposefully rubbing my breasts over his legs. I had him trapped now and he knew it. He leaned as far back in the chair as he could without tipping it over, his eyes widening, but I grasped the front of his shirt and yanked him towards me.

"Oh, no you don't," I murmured and stretched forward to capture his mouth with mine. His lips felt like cool velvet, but his mouth was warm and very wet. His saliva tasted like cinnamon as though he'd been sucking on a breath mint or chewing gum before I had arrived. It was an unexpected sweetness that made me kiss him even harder and more devouringly.

He whimpered, poor thing, but soon closed his eyes and in moments, kissed me back, moving his lips on mine with a tantalizing tenderness. I placed both hands on his chest now and grasped his shirt, untucking it so I could slip my hands beneath that cool silk fabric to skim the surface of his cool, silky skin. I felt his hands on my shoulders and the almost imperceptible pressure of his fingers kneading my flesh. Oh yeah. He was mine now.

Then, unexpectedly, someone knocked sharply on the door. Jean-Claude and I both jumped, startled. Jean-Claude wrenched his chair around to face the intruder and I scrambled to my feet and took up a dutiful-looking position behind him.

Shit! What timing. I had him. I had him eating out of the palm of my hand, so to speak. In another few minutes, we'd have been tearing each other's clothes off. Now, ten to one, I was going to have to start all over.

"Enter," Jean-Claude called out, rather breathlessly.

It was one of the bartenders."Sir, the alarm tripped again," he informed. "Do you want me to call the police this time too?" He looked frazzled. Must have been having a bad night too.

Jean-Claude muttered something under his breath in French that sounded suspiciously like some choice expletives. He automatically reached for the phone, waving the bartender away.

"Non. I will take care of it, thank you, Tomas."

The man quickly withdrew and closed the door.

Jean-Claude sat forward slightly, leaning his elbows on the desk, and rubbed his temples as he spoke on the phone."Yes, this is Jean-Claude, the proprietor of Guilty Pleasures...Yes, Monsieur, it has gone off yet again. Yes, Monsieur. The security firm is coming tomorrow to reset it and change the code."

I shook my head. Yeah, when it rains, it pours. I leaned forward a little and pushed Jean-Claude's hand away so I could take over rubbing his temples for him. I wondered if he had a headache. Did vampires get headaches? Not tonight, ma petite, I have a headache?

He was letting me massage his temples and that was encouraging. I could hear the voice on the other end of the line through the handset. It sounded loud and abusive even from where I was standing. Jean-Claude was getting his ass chewed by some desk sergeant no doubt. Now I understood the bartender's reluctance to make the apologetic call.

I gathered up Jean-Claude's long hair in my hands, running it through my fingers and over my face. Burying my nose in it, I took a deep whiff. His hair always smelled like sandalwood and spice. I know he used an incredibly expensive shampoo and it gave him really sexy-smelling hair.

"Oui, Monsieur," Jean-Claude said, his tone getting a teeny bit sharper.

I peered down at him and took in the sinewy, long line of his neck. Now that was just too damn tempting. I bent over his shoulder and bit him. Not hard enough to hurt him or break the skin, but hard enough. With a loud gasp, he practically dropped the phone and had to do some juggling to keep it against his ear. He reached up and grasped my forehead and shoved me away from him. He clapped his hand over the mark I had left on his neck and turned around just far enough to shoot me a stern look.

I smiled with feigned innocence and shrugged, mouthing the words, "I couldn't help myself."

Jean-Claude faced forward again. "Ah...non, Monsieur. I realize that. Couldn't you simply ignore it? Must a unit be dispatched every single time?...It is malfunctioning." Jean-Claude sighed heavily.

I leaned forward again and slid my hands around Jean-Claude's waist, then started unbuttoning his shirt. He grabbed my hands to stop me, but I was able to tug my hands free from his grasp and plastered them determinedly to his bared abdomen. With unabashed savor, I let my fingers slide over each little bulge of muscle to his navel and then traced the line of hair down to the waistband of his jeans. I toyed with the buckle of his belt, but he was wearing all kinds of chains too and from my position, I wasn't having much luck unfastening them all.

"What? SOP? I'm sorry?...Oh, yes, Monsieur," Jean-Claude continued. He twisted his torso and fought to face the other way, making it even harder for me to reach him.

Undeterred, I slowly rolled him away from the desk and squeezed in front of him, wedging myself between his legs. He gave me the most exasperated look and shook his head. I started unbuttoning my blouse and nodded at him. I knew he was eye level with my chest and that was right where I wanted him.

I slid out of my blouse and let it fall to the floor. Jean-Claude gaped up at me and I knew he wasn't hearing much of what the police sergeant was saying anymore. But then he closed his eyes and turned his head just as I was about to unclasp my bra.

"Yes. Yes. Very well. Again, my sincerest apologies...Merci, Monsieur. Good-night to you."

Jean-Claude opened his eyes and glared at me. He grabbed my arm and hauled me off to the side so he could put the phone back on the charger.

"Ma petite, you would try the patience of a saint," he rumbled. Then he leaned over and snatched my discarded shirt up and all but threw it at me. "Get dressed and go home. I am sorry, but you leave me no choice. I have told you no over and over, but it is not registering in your brain. I have work to do. Important work. I don't have time for these games tonight."

I think I would have just turned around and left at that point had I not caught him staring at my chest. When he noticed I had caught him, he quickly looked away. With a sly smile, I took a deep breath and pretended to turn my blouse right-side out to buy me some time. I bent forward, giving him ample view of my cleavage.

"Go? Do you really want me to go?" I asked, trying to sound disappointed. "Look me in the eye...and tell me you don't want this." Yeah, it was time to turn up the heat. I straightened slightly and unclasped the front of my bra and held it open like a flasher holds a trenchcoat.

Jean-Claude's eyes shot up to my face but he licked his lips, opened his mouth then closed it again. His gaze slowly descended down to my breasts, following every curve with a languid savor.

"Yeah, I thought so," I murmured smugly and reclasped my bra.

I backed up until I could feel the edge of his desk against my butt, then scooted up on it. I hiked up my skirt so he could see my garters and propped my heels up on the arms of his chair.

Jean-Claude sighed with something resembling sheer agony. "Please, ma petite. I am begging you. I need to get back to work. As it is, you have given me a cache of remarks and images which will distract me for the entire remainder of the night and probably well into tomorrow."

"How 'bout a quickie? I'll settle for a quickie if I have to, but I'd really, really like an all-nighter," I suggested hopefully. I ran my hand slowly up my thigh.

"No," Jean-Claude replied with a shake of his head. "You know as well as I do our 'quickies' more often than not, turn into 'all-nighters'. You don't understand. I must get back to work."

"You keep saying that, but YOU don't seem to understand," I countered. "I really, really want you."

Jean-Claude lowered his eyes briefly but found himself facing my crotch and quickly averted his gaze.

"What...about Asher?" he said, unexpectedly.

I shrugged. "What about Asher?"

Jean-Claude wasn't looking at me at all now. He was studying the geometric patterns on the throw rug to his left.

"Asher is back at the Circus of the Damned and will be more than happy to oblige you, ma petite. You need only go to him and ask."

I pursed my lips thoughtfully. "Don't get me wrong, Asher is a terrific lover, a superb lover, but he's not you. And then you know he won't make a move on me without you around. He's still too uptight about what he can and cannot do with me. I love Asher, but I don't want Asher tonight. I want my master, Master."

Jean-Claude's gaze jerked up to my face with undisclosed shock. Even though he was, technically, I never called him 'Master'. Now I think it scared him.

I slid off the desk and stalked up to him. I straddled his lap and wrapped my arms around his neck, taking advantage of the catatonic state I had just thrown him into. He didn't try to push me off, in fact, he wasn't resisting me at all, but he was looking at me now as if I had gone stark raving mad. Not exactly the reaction I was shooting for. That's what I get for showing him respect.

Leaning forward, I dotted his cheek with little kisses and wiggled my hips a little to rub against him. I was happy to discover he was hard. Very hard. At least I had accomplished that much. But that look in his eyes was unnerving.

"Your eyes may say no, no, but your body is saying yes, yes," I taunted him in a sing-song voice.

His brow furrowed slightly and I could almost see the wheels turning in his mind, but he was shielding from me like a son-of-a-gun and I really had no idea what he was thinking or feeling. Finally he spoke.

"You want your master, ma petite?"

I smiled triumphantly. "Yes. Yes, Master. I want you, Master."

I felt his hands on my hips all of a sudden. I hadn't even noticed he'd moved his arms. Like cool smoke, his hands moved over my thighs, his touch so soft it was barely perceptible. I looked down and watched as he slipped them up under my skirt. My heart began to bang inside my chest with anticipation. I glanced up and saw that Jean-Claude's expression had changed. He didn't look awed anymore, he looked seductive. His full lips were parted slightly and his deep, sapphire-blue eyes were smoldering with an icy fire that only hinted of passions to come.

I released a breath I wasn't aware I was holding and let myself drown in the depths of those gorgeous, gorgeous eyes. Sometimes, I really wish he could take my mind. Just so I could feel what it was like. God, it must be incredible.

"Oh yes, please, yes," I whispered, my mouth a hair's breadth from his now.

His tongue flicked out and touched my upper lip. I captured it in my mouth and sucked on it deeply, smashing my lips to his in a devouring kiss. I dragged my hands through his hair, cradling his head to keep him from pulling away from me. Not that he was. He was kissing me just as zealously as I was kissing him and his hands were on the move again. I felt his thumbs brush over my satin-covered crotch before his hands slid around behind me to cup my buttocks. He squeezed my flesh with decided relish and moaned into my mouth, kissing me even harder. How I kept from slicing my lips on his fangs, I'll never know.

Now he was shifting his weight beneath me, shifting me as well. He moved one arm around my back and moved his other arm under my butt, holding me like mothers often hold babies. He was standing up, I suddenly realized, and assumed he was going to carry me to the overstuffed leather sofa to the right of the door.

My mind was so consumed with desire at this point, I didn't realize what he was doing exactly until it was too late. We were heading towards the door, not the sofa, and he was opening it. Then he all but plopped me down on my butt just outside his office.

Now sprawled on the floor, my mind still cloudy with lust, all I could do was gap up at him in astonishment.

"You wanted your master?" Jean-Claude grumbled. There was absolutely no trace of desire in his eyes now. Just a cold emptiness. "Then I will be your master. I will give you a command, and you will obey it. Let's try it, shall we? Go home or go to Asher or Micah, or whomever your heart desires. I have put up with all the mischief from you I'm going to tonight. So now, I will bid you adieu, ma petite. I will call you....Later."

He went to close the door on me, but then suddenly realized I didn't have my blouse on and frowned. He turned on his heel and strode back into the office to retrieve it. After all, it wouldn't do to literally throw me out wearing nothing but a demi-bra.

I seized the opportunity he'd given me and scuttled back inside the office like a crab, colliding with Jean-Claude on his way back, and almost tripping him. He had to grasp my shoulders to keep from toppling over me. I threw my arms around his knees to keep him from getting away, or dragging me back out.

"What...what happened just now?" I sputtered indignantly. "You were kissing me like you were trying to climb inside me one minute and the next minute...you're throwing me out on my ass!"

"What is the matter, ma petite? Do you not care for a taste of your own medicine?" he asked, his voice a deep, silky rumble. He tried prying my arms from around his legs but almost lost his balance and gave up. Instead he put his hands on his hips and glowered down at me.

I glared back up at him. "My own medicine?"

He nodded. "Seduction, ma petite. The art of tempting, beguiling, teasing, enticing, usually to manipulate one to submit to your will, whatever that will may be. You've been trying to seduce me all evening, have you not? I say trying because you have not yet succeeded. On the other hand, I succeeded. I seduced you so I could manipulate you. Only I chose to manipulate you out the door."

Oddly enough, he didn't seem angry despite the fact he'd just spouted off his little lesson on seduction in ten seconds and one deep breath. He just seemed smug and arrogant with a dash of condescension.

But I was mad. I wasn't sure if it was because he had given me a 'taste of my own medicine' or the fact he had been able to seduce me so effortlessly and completely while after all my efforts, I had yet to truly affect him.

"I can't believe you did that!" I stated, outraged. "That was so fucking mean."

"Is that so?" Jean-Claude replied, his voice just this side of sarcastic. "And I suppose you see nothing wrong with what you've been subjecting me to all evening. I have pleaded with you to leave me alone to work, Anita, yet you persisted. Not so much because you truly wanted me, but you persisted simply because you couldn't have me. I presented a challenge to you tonight and everyone knows you do not take 'no' for an answer when it comes to getting your way."

Stung by his reprimand, I looked down and let my arms slide off his legs. I think it was his use of my real name that got to me more than anything. That and the fact that I hadn't been able to convince him, despite all my pluck and efforts, that I truly wanted him and only him tonight. I guess I wasn't as good at this whole seduction thing as I had first thought, but then, I never really had to work quite this hard to convince him to do anything for me before. Normally, and especially when it came to sex, all I had to do was crook my little finger at him and he'd practically throw himself at my feet in his willingness to oblige me.

Now I knew what countless wives across America felt like during football season. Yeah, nice see-through negligee, honey, but it's the third and goal, could you move away from the tv?

Jean-Claude took a small step back and held out his hand to help me up.I glanced at it, but shook my head to decline his offer. "All right. All right. I can take a hint," I mumbled. "I'm going."

He sighed. "Ma petite, don't pout so. It is most unbecoming."

I glared up at him then. "Unbecoming? I haven't been becoming to you all night, why should I worry about it now?" I drew my knees up to my chest and encircled them with my arms.

Jean-Claude clucked his tongue at me. "Nothing could be farther from the truth. You've been entirely too becoming, that is my problem."

"Ha! I could be lying here, naked, and spread-eagle and you'd just go about your business and keep logging your data. But then you are the master of self-control." I reached up and dragged my hand through my hair, pushing it off my face in frustration.

Jean-Claude leaned down towards me slightly. "How can you doubt the affect you have on me?" he argued. "It would not matter if you were naked or clothed. I'm deeply affected by your proximity to me and if I am to get any work done at all, I need you away from me. Out of my sight."

"If that were true, you would have given in to me tonight. I can't believe this paperwork has you so enthralled, you can just set me aside like this and carry on with it. I used to walk into a room and immediately have your attention. Before, whenever I touched you, you touched me back. I could seduce you then too. All I had to do was look into your eyes and smile." I paused and took a deep breath. "Yep. The honeymoon's over."

"That is not so, ma petite."

"Isn't it? You thought I wouldn't give up tonight, not because I really wanted you, but because you were a challenge to me. I told you I wanted you, but it didn't mean anything to you. I haven't seen you for weeks, Jean-Claude. I haven't even heard from you. When you love someone, that's a long time to be apart. I missed you. I wanted you. Just for one night. I couldn't give up on you. I just couldn't." I lowered my eyes and licked my suddenly very dry lips. "Haven't you ever wanted something so badly that you get it into your head that you just can't go on another moment unless you have it? You get so crazy, sometimes bad ideas sound like good ideas, and you wind up looking like an idiot, but it doesn't matter. Because you're so smitten, you'll do anything, say anything to get what it is you need. Have you ever felt that way?" Tentatively, I peered up at Jean-Claude.

His expression had softened considerably and he was gazing down at me, his eyes glittering with adoration. He nodded slowly and his voice, when he spoke, was a faint, breathy whisper.

"Oui, ma petite. I have felt that very same way before. There was something I yearned for once with all my heart. But I scarcely dared to dream I'd ever possess it. It was too precious, too beautiful. And I too, did a lot of crazy, risky things to have it. There were times I believed I had lost it and each of those times, I felt as if a piece of my heart had broken apart and died. I was patient however. Then, I would not, could not, take 'no' for an answer. I wanted it too badly."

"Oh," I said simply, my mind fiercely wondering what on earth he could be talking about. Whatever it was, it seemed very valuable to him. I cleared my throat. "So, you did get it after all?" If he told me he didn't, I think I'd cry.

Jean-Claude knelt down in front of me and sighed, his eyes locking on mine. He reached out and cradled my chin in the palm of his hand, then the most beautiful, breathtaking smile slowly lit his face with what could have been the light from a thousand stars.

"Oui," he whispered and leaned forward to kiss me tenderly on the forehead.

I realized then, he was talking about me--my love. My mouth fell open. I was suddenly speechless, but as it turned out, I didn't need to say anything.

Jean-Claude slid his mouth over mine and kissed me with such sweetness, I felt like I was melting from my lips down to my toes. I wrapped my arms around his neck and lay back, easing him down on top of me. He came to me willingly this time. He didn't resist in the slightest.

Once the weight of his body and the firmness of his curves molded around me, my pulse raced and my insides quickly flooded with heat. Our kiss became deeper, more passionate, and more demanding. I slipped my tongue between his teeth, opening my mouth wider to cover his upper lip. Lord Almighty, this man had the most gloriously kissable mouth.

Without a doubt, he was a feast for the senses. His mouth still tasted like hot cinnamon, tendrils of his fragrant hair tickled my cheek, and his skin felt as smooth as porcelain beneath my hands. In moments, I was so sensually intoxicated by it all, he became my entire world and my awareness of our surroundings simply evaporated.

I tugged at his clothes, wanting to expose more of him to me, and somehow managed to get him out of his shirt. I think he was just as blissfully unaware too because he reached down and unclasped my bra to expose me. I tilted my head back to give him better access to my décolletage and felt his lips trail down my neck in a hot, wet line. He nibbled delicately on my skin, all the way down to my cleavage. His hand covered my right breast and he squeezed it savoringly before his mouth descended on my taut nipple. He tantalizingly rolled his tongue around it and moaned faintly with decided relish. Closing my eyes, I gasped and writhed beneath him, delving my hands into his hair.

I'm not sure what made me turn my head and open my eyes, but when I did, my heart nearly stopped. Jean-Claude and I had been so wrapped up in each other--literally--that it didn't occur to either of us that the door was still wide open and we were on the floor right in front of it, giving Guilty Pleasures a show that wasn't on the billing. But it occurred to me now, gazing into the smiling leering faces of our small audience standing just down the hall. I emitted something between a gasp and a scream. It came out sounding like a loud gulp.

Jean-Claude looked up then. He looked at me first, then followed the direction of my horrified gaze. He closed his eyes momentarily and took a deep, steadying breath. Then in his most commanding, intimidating voice, he faced our intrigued on-lookers and growled.

"Get back to work!"

Our audience was suddenly scrambling to obey him, running into each other and generally trying to make themselves scarce as quickly as possible.

"Damn, I wanted to take notes," I overheard one of the dancers say to another as they disappeared down another hallway, probably to the dressing room.

I felt my face turn beet red. Jean-Claude peered down at me apologetically.

"I am sorry, ma petite. I should have locked the door before we...became so engaged." He stretched out his hand, grabbed his shirt and placed it over me to cover me. Then rose off me and crawled on all fours over to the door, slammed it shut and snapped the lock into place.

I sat up, reclasping my bra, and tried to smile. "It's not your fault. I could have said something, but I just wasn't thinking when you started kissing me."

Jean-Claude smiled. He was still kneeling by the door, his hands resting loosely on his thighs. "Lack of discretion is a hazard of such office liaisons but the prospect of being 'caught in the act', as it were, makes it that much more scintillating, don't you agree?"

I know he was asking for permission to continue where we had left off, but I was still a little shaken and truthfully, what he had said to his employees kind of stuck in my mind. Get back to work. Maybe if he had said get lost, or mind your own fucking business, I wouldn't be feeling the guilt I was now.

But they were busy. Short-staffed. Jean-Claude needed them to get back to work. They didn't have time to stand around and gawk at us. Jean-Claude didn't have time for this either. He was busy too. He had to get back to work, but I wasn't letting him. Surely our little tryst could wait. Why was I being so selfish? It wasn't fair to him.

I turned my eyes towards his desk with its stacks of folders and mountains of papers. The slowly blinking cursor on the computer's monitor was like a patient beckoning. God, it was going to take him the rest of the week to log all that data and catch up the books.

"Ma petite?" Jean-Claude said softly, calling out to me in a vaguely sing-song kind of tone someone uses when they are not sure you heard them.

I struggled to my feet, shaking my head. "I'm sorry. We can't do this now," I declared, my mind made up. "Let me out."

Jean-Claude's eyes widened. "You wish to leave?" He rose to his feet like he had been pulled up by invisible strings and walked slowly towards me. "Is it because you feel uncomfortable now? I can assure you we will not be interrupted again." He reached out and laid his hand on my cheek, raising my face to his. He went to kiss me, but I pulled away from him.

"It's not that, really," I admitted. Though that little incident at the door had quelled some of my raging libido. "I feel bad. You have so much work to do and I was being totally selfish harassing you the way I was. I wasn't thinking about what you needed tonight. I didn't care what you needed, but now I do. Go...go back to work. I'll leave and when you get done, just call me, okay?"

Jean-Claude bowed his head, took several deep, cleansing breaths, and massaged his eyes. I knew this was like a ritual summoning for patience for him. And I also recognized it as a clear sign that he was getting pissed. I inched away from him.

"So it has finally, finally occurred to you that I might have work to do, when it has finally, finally occurred to me, that there is a matter of much more importance I should attend to?" He looked up at me then, his gaze demanding an honest reply.

I gnawed my lower lip. "I guess you could put it that way. Ironic, isn't it?" I tried to smile, but he was practically glaring at me now. I put my hands on my hips. "It's not like having sex with me is all that important--at least not having sex right now."

"YOU are important, ma petite. Your happiness is important. Reassuring you and expressing my love for you is important. Nothing, nothing else matters to me more than you. I was being selfish so misguidedly neglecting your needs."

"My needs can wait. Really."

"They are my needs too," Jean-Claude countered in a deep, throaty voice.

I felt it resonate inside me, brush over me like a feather-soft caress and it made me shiver. I took a deep breath.

"Then the anticipation will make it better. The timing will be better. I just can't do it now, Jean-Claude. I'm just not in the mood anymore." I pulled on my shirt and hastily began buttoning it. "I'll see you later, I promise."

I took one step forward towards the door, but Jean-Claude suddenly 'appeared' in front of it. He leaned against it, barring my way to freedom.

"Not so fast, ma petite," he murmured. He didn't sound particularly angry, but there was something ominous-sounding in his tone. He was shielding from me again and he had this kind of glazed, predatory look in his eyes. "I can put you back in the mood."

I swallowed hard and took a small step back. "Now, Jean-Claude. Don't go getting any ideas."

He straightened and advanced towards me, his eyes sweeping over me as he did. The way he was looking at me made me very self-conscious. It was that kind of look a man gives you when he's imagining you naked and sweaty and lying underneath him. I took another step back.

"I have not told you how lovely you look tonight," he began, his voice pouring over me now like warm honey. Thick and rich and sweet.

I pointed a threatening finger at him. "Stop that! You're cheating!" If he had it in his mind to seduce me now, any resistance on my part was futile. I might as well start undressing now.

He only smiled devilishly and ran the tip of his tongue along the edge of his teeth. He put his hands flat against his abdomen and slid them slowly down to his thighs, inhaling deeply as he did and I could imagine my hands gliding over him the same way. He took another step towards me, leaning into it with an exaggerated but graceful sway of his shoulder which reminded me immediately--and infuriatingly--of how his shoulders moved whenever we made love. That forceful, but fluid rocking motion.

I screwed my eyes shut and shook my head. "Don't you want to get back to work? I thought you'd want to get back to work!" I opened one eye and peered over at him.

He was walking now. That slinky, stalking stride of his, putting just enough roll and swing to his hips to make his chain belts jingle and make my mouth water. His eyes were locked on mine with a kind of smoldering intensity that would put Antonio Banderas to shame.

"Perhaps tomorrow," he said with an elegantly dismissive wave of his hand. "You were very right, ma petite. All work and no play makes Jean-Claude a dull boy. I was sorely in need of a suitable distraction and now that I have found one, I am not about to let her get away." He stopped right in front of me and leaned over my shoulder to whisper in my ear. "I want you. Now."

His lips brushed against my ear and made me jump. I backed away from him again and bumped my butt against the edge of his desk. Jean-Claude smiled, eyeing the desk and my proximity to it with lascivious approval.

"Yes, I think that will do nicely," he purred and took a step towards me.

There was no where left for me to go. I had to decide whether to go around the desk or clamor over the top of it. Jean-Claude was looking like he was getting ready to pounce, I had to make up my mind. I darted to the left and he sprang after me, hot on my heels as I sprinted around and around the desk's circumference.

Oh my God! I couldn't believe he was actually chasing me around his desk and the hilarity of it all struck me suddenly, making me laugh so hard I could barely run anymore.

I heard Jean-Claude laughing too and wave after wave of delicious little tingles danced over my skin.

"Not fair!" I yelled over my shoulder. We were on opposite corners now and stopped to face each other.

"All is fair in love and war, ma petite," Jean-Claude purred. He started towards me again. "You know there is no escape. Why do you even try? Surrender to me now, and I will be merciful."

I laughed again and shook my head, moving to the other side to stay ahead of him. "Uh-uh. I'm not falling for that one. You want me, you'll just have to catch me."

I feigned to the right, then dodged to the left, but Jean-Claude tackled me just behind the desk and we crashed down over the top of it together, scattering files and papers everywhere and even sending the phone clanging loudly to the floor.

I screamed hysterically, but Jean-Claude covered my mouth with his, smothering my cries. I immediately stopped struggling and wrapped my arms around his neck holding him tightly to me and kissing him back with zealous fervor.

He pulled away from me just far enough to look into my eyes. He smiled, a warm, beautiful smile and nodded his head slowly.


I smiled back. Yeah, resistance was futile. As impossible as it seemed, I wanted him even more now than when I had first walked in.


He laughed again and lowered his head to kiss me once more. I let him.

So, I had set out to capture and conquer, but had instead fallen prey to my conquest. Not that I minded at all. I mean, what a way to go. And with someone like Jean-Claude, such turnabout proved downright educational. I learned a lot about the art of seduction. That maybe it doesn't have to be aggressive or lewd. Tonight, soft voices, subtle movements, a little laughter, and a lot of heartfelt sentiment was the ticket. But then when you have love, that's all you really need. Just like in the song. Love is all you need.


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