Falling for the Boss

by Jean Oram

  She ignored it and peeled off her T-shirt, tossing it across the veranda, not caring that he could see her lace bra. He’d seen more in the shower and hadn’t done anything to be worried about.

  “Freedom.”

  “To whip off your shirt?”

  “Yeah.” She leaned her head against the back of the wicker chair. “And you?”

  He smiled. “Yeah, I like that you enjoy the freedom here, too.”

  She laughed. “Are you flirting with me, Connor MacKenzie?”

  He leaned closer as he offered the bottle again, his lips near hers. “Maybe. You said I had to increase my charm. However, you seem to enjoy it when I lack charm. It makes your eyes twinkle with mischief.” He raised his chin. “You like the challenge, don’t you? Trying to one-up me.”

  “Is this you trying to be charming?” He was so close, her own breath was being reflected back at her. All she had to do was ease a tad forward and she’d be kissing her boss.

  He stood, offering his hand. “Would you care to go for a swim with me, Maya Summer?”

  “I would.” She rested her fingers against his palm, wondering what he would do if she took things a little further?

  “Maya Summer, you are drunk.”

  She sighed. “That’s why my sisters always make me drink margaritas. Otherwise I drink too fast.” She allowed her chest to brush his as she stood. She shivered despite the heat and tipped her head back. Connor’s eyes were dark pools of longing, and she wanted it unbridled. Here and now.

  Before she could do something stupid, she hooked a finger through a belt loop in Connor’s shorts, and pulled him to the steps that led down to the path.

  “Don’t we need towels?” he asked.

  “There are some down there.”

  “Bathing suits?”

  “My oh my, you need an introduction to the freedom that is Nymph Island.”

  “Fitting name.”

  Connor kept up as she headed for the water. Once her feet hit the dock, she shimmied out of her shorts, turning to watch Connor. The big question was whether to swim in her underwear or to skinny-dip. The sun was still shining and anyone who was over on Baby Horseshoe with half decent vision could see her.

  Connor tossed off his shirt and tightened his abs, his attention focused on her bare stomach.

  “You’re too skinny,” she said with a laugh. “Quit sucking in.” She waved at his shorts, daring him to drop them.

  His cheeks flushed as he slowly unbuttoned his shorts, allowing them to fall to the ground.

  She reached behind to unclasp her bra, noting that Connor seemed to have stopped breathing. She decided against flicking the garment aside as well as shimmying out of her panties. Too early for skinny-dipping. Her family might stop by.

  Instead, she gave Connor a wicked grin and asked, “Coming swimming?”

  She took a shallow dive off the end of the dock before he could reply. The water felt amazing as it rushed past her clammy skin, and she came up grinning. “Refreshing.”

  Connor stood at the edge, studying the water’s depth.

  “Come on, Connor.”

  “Too chicken for skinny-dipping?” he teased.

  “It’s daylight.”

  “And?”

  She laughed. “Want me to strip? You’ll have to as well!”

  He jumped into the water and popped up with a gasp. “It’s cold!” He was treading water quickly.

  “You’re going to tire yourself out. Put your feet down.”

  He relaxed and straightened, his broad shoulders sticking out of the water. Maya came closer, keeping eye contact. He wasn’t giving off signals. Not a one. None saying for her to back off. None saying to come closer.

  She paddled near him, rolling onto her back, drawing his gaze. He was interested. Good. She could handle polite and shy.

  Turning in the water, she glanced up at the cottage peeking through the leaning trees that hugged the shore. Almost laughing, she thought of her mother and sisters’ beliefs that this place was a matchmaker, and that destiny had a hand in them falling in love if they spent time here with the right man.

  Destiny better know Maya wasn’t looking for love. She was after a good time and a hot career. And right now, judging by the desire coiling Connor’s muscles tight, he might be able to fulfill one of the things she was after.

  She splashed him playfully, and he seemed shocked for a second, before responding with a splash of his own. She rolled and dived, coming around to his bare ankles, giving them a tickle as she surfaced behind him, resisting the urge to nip at his lovely round tush. He laughed, looking younger than he had since his arrival. He reached for her ankle as she swam away, and she let him catch it, reel her in, curious to see what he’d do with her once he had her.

  He pulled her closer, one hand over the next as he worked his way up her leg. She laughed and squirmed, playing along. He wrapped her legs around his hips, gripping her waist, his body scorching where their skin met. Without warning, his lips were on hers, taking her. Everything about him that she admired in the business world was at home in his kisses, too. Power. Control. Authority.

  He deepened the kiss, consuming her breath and any willpower she might try to summon.

  Oh, yeah. This was what she wanted.

  She wrapped her legs tighter around his waist, the water buoying her. She caressed the nape of his neck, keeping her body tight to his. Connor walked them to the shallows, his hands moving over her back as they continued to kiss.

  He sat them in the sand, then let out a stuttered breath and slipped out from under her. “Maybe not here,” he whispered.

  She led him into the small boathouse, dumping the stack of towels they kept in a cupboard onto the floor. Connor’s body pressed tight to hers, not allowing her more than a butterfly’s breath away, and they fell onto the towels together, their lips meeting again.

  Slowly, he lowered his mouth to her shoulder, licking streams of water off her trembling form. He relaxed his grip which had been on her wrists, and she swept her hands free, pulling his chest tight to hers where she was stretched out on the lumpy towels.

  “Don’t be so impatient,” he grumbled, trailing his fingers along the sensitive skin of her exposed side.

  She shivered, wishing he’d move faster. He was being difficult, taking the control she wanted. But she loved it even though it frustrated her. There was something sexy about a man who could and would stand up to her anywhere, anytime. He would never let her bulldoze him, and the knowledge that his power extended to the more intimate reaches of her life pushed her desire deeper.

  “You’re killing me.” She pulled on his shoulders, wishing he’d quit worrying about pleasing her, and make things happen.

  He continued to move slowly, building the tension within her.

  “You’re sexy, Maya,” he murmured. “You deserve time.”

  “Connor the King of Toronto and Bay Street and All Things Amazing,” she breathed. The man had opened a floodgate. “Hurry up.”

  He laughed and lightly grazed her shoulder with a finger. “Let me take my time.”

  “I will explode,” she murmured, listening to his heart tap out a steady beat. She was pinned by him, and all she could think was how good he felt being so close to her, and how much she loved everything the Y chromosome had bestowed upon him.

  He closed his eyes as he feathered her face with kisses, their legs tangled and warm, the bags under Connor’s eyes grooved and dark, his bruise still an ill shade of green. How could he be so worn-out? He was Connor MacKenzie, unstoppable. Maya’s dream was to become the female version of him—someone who owned the business world with ease and grace—but this wasn’t part of the dream.

  She trailed a finger down his body, but he drew her hand away, kissing her wrist. He shifted so he was on top of her, his position low, his mouth moving south in slow circles over her stomach, his breath steady on her skin.

  She thought he might go lower and she tensed, waiting for him. She thread
ed her fingers into his hair and his movements slowed until they stopped and a gentle breath tickled the skin on her stomach.

  “Connor?” She propped herself up on her elbows. Another puff of breath followed what sounded like a gentle snore. “Are you asleep?”

  If this was destiny playing a joke on her, destiny was an unkind so-and-so.

  Connor blinked awake. It was dark. Cold. And he was sleeping on something uncomfortable. Water was lapping under him, but he was dry. A dock. The boathouse.

  Maya?

  He patted the area around him. He was alone on the towels Maya had thrown out of the cupboard in their haste to continue their private party on land. She wasn’t a nymph, after all, but a siren who had dashed him upon the rocks as he’d predicted. He stifled a groan, his mind filling in details he wished were attached to the brain cells the vodka had surely washed away. How stupid could he be? He’d come incredibly close to revealing his secrets to Maya. She was a lot like him in that she valued strength and virility, and he had neither. She’d almost seen how weak and broken he was, and that would have been a game changer. A killer. What was wrong with him? She was the sexiest, most stimulating woman he’d ever met, and he couldn’t even react. She would take his lack of display to be representative of how he truly felt about her and be hurt.

  She’d moved so boldly, calling him to her like the siren she was. Of course he’d followed her and her song. She’d been incredible, but he still hadn’t been able to satisfy her in the way a man should. It was humiliating how he’d had to carefully fend her off, slow her down, protect his secret. And then…and then he’d fallen asleep.

  Asleep.

  Connor sighed and draped an arm over his eyes, his head aching, his pride broken.

  His longing for Maya created an ache inside him so severe it was as though something had been torn from him.

  As soon as she noticed he was broken, she’d be gone. And for some reason that mattered to him. He’d been stupid to allow things to go so far—and not only because he was her boss.

  Connor sat up, the digging sensation behind his eyes intensifying and making his head swim, his brain an overinflated balloon in a vise. The doctor had been right about abstaining from alcohol.

  Sighing, he curled up on the towels under him, using one as a blanket over his shivering, half-naked form. Maybe later he’d go searching for his clothes, then make the awful trek back up to the cottage.

  He’d actually been feeling better, so what did he do? Get drunk and maul his more-than-willing assistant. He was his own worst enemy, and yet all he could think about was finding some way to get his body back in business so he could show Maya just how much of a man he really was. How much he wanted to finish what they’d started.

  He rolled over, trying to get comfortable, and his body thanked him with a stab, stab, stab in the temples. Pain in tandem with his heartbeat seared through him and he let out a groan.

  Quiet footfalls sounded on the dock, then came into the boathouse. He glanced up as Maya crouched beside him, clothed again, flashlight shining on him. She didn’t seem angry, only concerned. He was becoming an invalid.

  He sat up, his head screaming at him to put a gun to it and end his misery.

  “Hey,” she said. “How are you feeling?”

  Wow. Lots to dive into there. Let’s start with tattered human, followed up with crappy morals and no sense of honor. Who took things that far with an assistant while both parties were drunk?

  “Sorry about that.” He wanted to stand, but couldn’t figure out a way to do so without informing his head that a change in altitude had occurred.

  “Sorry about what?” she asked, her voice edged with caution.

  “Taking advantage.”

  She laughed, the sound hollowed by something similar to disappointment, he suspected. Or worse.

  She sat on the boards with her knees drawn under her chin. “Just don’t fall asleep on me next time.”

  He swallowed a bitter lump of humiliation. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t you…it’s—”

  “It doesn’t matter,” she said quickly.

  “It does to me.”

  She didn’t reply, simply handed him his clothes, then set the flashlight down beside her. She scratched her forehead as though feeling shy. He silently slipped into his shirt, hating the awkwardness that had settled over what had been a good night until he’d crashed, ruining it all—even though it had saved him from doing something he shouldn’t have with her.

  And while she’d said ‘next time,’ he guessed she was likely just trying to be nice. He glanced at her, but was unable to read her expression with the light creating shadows across her pretty face.

  She stood, turning away to adjust the cupboard’s contents, which had to be still in disarray from her yanking out the stack of towels like a madwoman. Connor quickly tugged on his shorts, almost falling over as his head was showered in shards of pain. His shirt felt odd like it might be backwards, but Maya passed him several bottles of water. She grabbed an air mattress from against the wall. “Can you bring the towels?” she asked.

  He gathered them, careful how he moved his head, and followed her out to the dock, where she dropped the air mattress. She took the towels and began busily arranging them while he downed one of the drinks.

  Connor hesitated beside her, not sure what she had in mind. He didn’t want to fall asleep in the middle of something again, and he didn’t exactly think his screaming head would let him do anything active, assuming he could even rise to the occasion. Things were already awkward enough without adding to their disappointing night.

  “Have you seen the stars since you’ve been out here?” She turned to him, swinging the thin flashlight beam his way. He winced and held up a hand to shield his eyes.

  “I haven’t.”

  “Come.” Using the flashlight’s beam, she directed him onto the bed she’d made, complete with sleeping bags. Two.

  Thank goodness. He could be smooth without taking things into no-man’s land.

  He sat carefully and slowly, then looked up as she turned off the beam of light. “Whoa!” Stars were crowding the sky as though there wasn’t enough room for them all. The more he stared, the more he could see, filling in the inky background.

  “I know. Amazing, right?” She sat on the opposite side of the mattress, and in the dim light filtering across from the opposite island, he watched her sit with her knees folded against her chest. All he could think of was how he wanted to make love to her. Not something hurried and impersonal, but to love her slowly and luxuriously. To feel every curve, luscious and deep. To learn her body as if it was an ancient, endangered language. To honor her temple, and let her know how precious and rare she was. Strong, feminine. He wanted a completely different kind of satiation than he had when he was younger. He wanted to take his time. Memorize everything about her and the moment.

  Without questioning himself, Connor reached over and stroked her cheek with the back of a finger. She leaned into his caress.

  He lay down on his back, hands tucked under his head to form a pillow, struggling to keep his eyes from drifting closed. “Do you know the constellations?” he asked. He wished she’d curve herself into the hollow of his shoulder and warm his side with her heavenly body.

  “A few,” she admitted from her side of the mattress. “It looks like we could reach up and touch them tonight.”

  “Yeah.” His eyelids succumbed to the pull of gravity, but he promised himself he wouldn’t fall asleep on her again. Not until she did.

  “Another reason you love it here?” he asked, allowing a playful note into his voice.

  “That and being able to, um, well, do private things outside.” She laughed.

  He laced his fingers with hers. The silence between them stretched with unspoken words.

  He wanted to tell her that he loved how bold and brave she was. To let her know he supported her strength. He admired her, and found her nothing less than amazing in every regard that he’d dis
covered thus far.

  “I’m really sorry I fell asleep.”

  “Connor, it’s okay. Really.” Her voice was tight, telling him it wasn’t as okay as she was saying.

  She joined him on her back, her pose echoing his, her chest rising with every breath. It was hard to enjoy the stars with her by his side. His eyes drifted shut and he opened them again, the world spinning slightly.

  If he knew Maya, which he really didn’t, she hadn’t completely given up on him. And that meant that if he didn’t blow it tonight, he might have yet another opportunity to explode whatever low expectations she had of him, as well as somehow, in the next nine days, find a way to retrieve his manhood from the dark hollows of his fatigue.

  Connor awoke with Maya in his arms. He blinked and looked at her again, checking to make sure she was really there: a beautiful woman in his arms. A caring and smart woman who had his back and was… Okay, he had to stop thinking or he was going to turn into one of those sappy men he couldn’t stand.

  He barely dared breathe as he watched the mist rise off the water over Maya’s shoulder. It had been years since he’d slept this well. And on an air mattress on a dock, with mosquitoes buzzing around him all night, no less. It had to be the magic of Maya.

  A few hundred yards away a boat motored past slowly, voices drifting across the water, breaking the quiet spell of the sunrise.

  The craft turned between the two islands, and Connor hoped the sound wouldn’t wake Maya, so he could savor having her in his arms a little longer. Tipping his head to watch the boat, he inhaled Maya’s scent, a subtle blend of pine, lake water and something else distinctively hers.

  The boat puttered to a stop at the dock across the strait. Maya had said whoever owned the place had given her an offer for the cottage and that she’d show it to him, but she hadn’t done so yet. What had happened?

  Maya stirred as voices carried across the water once again.

  “Good morning,” Connor whispered as she propped herself on her arms, blinking at him, then at her surroundings.

  “I drank a lot, didn’t I?” she asked.