After Hours

by Lynda Aicher

  “Don’t play dumb.” Trevor flicked his head toward to door. “I want the details on Avery. What’s going on? Why are you being a dick? And do I need to worry?”

  Straight to the point. Good.

  Carson bobbed his head in slow thought. “I’m still helping her explore via the Boardroom. We’ve participated in multiple scenes over the last month. Our arrangement hasn’t affected our work or jobs.” Not until this morning when he couldn’t reconcile his own damn emotions. “I wasn’t aware that I was being a dick, and no, you don’t need to worry.”

  He sat back, satisfied that he’d checked off each of Trevor’s questions without giving away more. For some damn reason, he didn’t want to share anything about Avery.

  Their relationship was private.

  And that meant they had a relationship worth preserving.

  The wonder of that settled into his chest and nudged against his heart. He braced himself for the immediate kick of resistance, only it wasn’t there.

  “I don’t?” Trevor asked, his knowing look only moderately annoying. “Then don’t fuck this up.”

  “What, exactly, shouldn’t I fuck up?” There were so many damn things that statement could apply to.

  Trevor chuckled before he took a drink from his travel mug. Carson wanted to be mad at him just for the point of it, but he couldn’t be. Trevor knew him too well, and that was the problem. He wasn’t fooling Trevor, and by the knowing smirks on Gregory’s and Drake’s faces, them either.

  “What I don’t understand,” Trevor finally said, “is why you’re fighting it so hard. She’s not your direct employee. Gregory knows about your relationship. You’re both adults. And—” He leaned in, obviously setting up for the killing blow. “You’re so damn possessive of her you might as well piss a circle around her while you blare your ownership from a bullhorn.”

  Gregory snorted. Trevor straightened, that knowing smile back in place. And Carson had no idea how to respond. One thought made it through, though. “Is it really that obvious?” Could it be, when he’d only recently acknowledged his feelings for Avery himself?

  Drake scoffed, head bobbing in an exaggerated yes.

  Carson glared at him, but Drake just laughed.

  “Seriously?” Drake asked, grin wide, brows raised. “You bring a woman to the Boardroom for the first time ever, no one can touch her but you, and you wonder if it’s obvious?” His bemused laugh was full of sarcasm much like his tone. “Her profile is so pathetically thin, I doubt she’s even logged into the app after setting it up.”

  Carson’s glare hardened. The thought of Avery using the app to participate in scenes without him had his jealous rage flaring hot and fast. She wasn’t ready for more. She didn’t want to be with other men. She’d barely agreed to watching with him.

  And every excuse he raised screamed of his own reluctance to share her. The irony of his hypocrisy hit him like a kick to his heart. He’d been participating in open relationships for so long that he’d let go of the thought of ever having a monogamous one.

  And then Avery had come along.

  “Just to us,” Gregory reassured him. “In the office anyway. Because we know what’s going on.”

  “And what’s going on?” Carson frowned, his defenses holding.

  Gregory returned his frown, but there was a hint of skepticism in it. “You like her.” He shrugged. “Now you need to decide what you’re going to do about it.”

  “And how that works with the Boardroom,” Trevor said.

  “If it does,” Gregory shot back.

  “And if you’re okay with her decisions regarding it.” Trevor let that hang.

  Carson sat back, stunned. How had they gotten that far? “We haven’t even had a real date,” he blurted in an attempt to apply the brakes to their aggressive schedule.

  Trevor flicked a brow up, stepping away from the window. “Maybe you should try that first.”

  “And my original statement still holds,” Gregory said, standing when the other men did.

  “What’s that?” Carson asked, his head still spinning from their bombardment. Hell, they almost had him and Avery at the altar. And why didn’t that thought have him shuddering in instant rejection like it had in the past?

  “I’ll hunt you down and skin you alive if you make her quit.” There was a slice of truth behind Gregory’s humor. His steady gaze spoke to exactly how serious he was.

  “Got it.” And he’d been reduced to a scolded schoolboy. Awesome. “Anything else?” he asked with a heavy dose of snark.

  “Will the assessment on the new software be ready for the two-o’clock?” Trevor asked, deftly changing the subject back to work. Thank fuck.

  “Yes.” He followed Trevor to the door. “With recommendations.” His team had been analyzing it for weeks and they had a number of concerns—and none of them had to do with Avery Fast.

  “Good.” Trevor opened the door. “I’ll see you in five. Gregory. Drake.” He nodded to the men and exited.

  Carson followed Trevor out, ready to be gone, yet unsure of how to deal with Avery. She glanced up, a tight smile in place. She received a short nod from Trevor as he cruised by her, no doubt already focused on his next task.

  Carson stopped before her desk, thoughts colliding with his damn emotions again. The florescent lighting wasn’t always friendly in its glaring shine, but it didn’t cut from Avery’s beauty even slightly. She looked up at him, not a hair escaping from the tight bun at her nape. Her lipstick appeared freshly applied in that pale pink color she favored. Her silky black blouse with the ruffled collar bordered on that prim side she presented in the office.

  Yet he knew there was more to her. He’d seen it. Felt it. Held it.

  He could have her—all of her—too.

  His pulse beat too fast, a wave of heat flaring up his nape. He wanted her. He’d acknowledged that long ago. And he wanted more. He’d decided that over the weekend. So what the fuck was his problem?

  “Can I help you?” she finally asked when the silence became awkward.

  “I think so,” he said, decision made. He was in. Period. “Would you like to go out for dinner tomorrow night?”

  Her eyes widened, mouth parting in shock. She whipped her head around to Gregory’s open door, only to shoot a “what the fuck are you doing?” look back at him.

  His laughter flowed from a deep spot of unknown. He really didn’t know, but whatever it was, it felt right.

  He gave her a smile before stepping back to duck his head into Gregory’s office. “Hey, Gregory,” he called. The man halted his conversation with Drake and jerked his focus to Carson, question etched on his features. “I asked your assistant out on a date.”

  Avery gasped behind him, but Gregory gave him a slow smile and nod. “Good luck with that.”

  “Thank you.” He turned back to Avery, resolve in place. “There.” He motioned to Gregory’s office. “He’s fine with it.”

  Her lips were still parted, head swiveling in slow denial. She leaned in, earnest confusion pulling her brows low.

  He rested his palms on her desk and bent down, his grin spreading. He honestly couldn’t contain it if he tried. “I’m asking you on a date.”

  Her mouth fell open again before she snapped it closed, sat back. She blinked, brows furrowing. “You’re what?”

  “You know. A date.” He was enjoying himself now that he’d owned his feelings. “Where we have dinner, talk, hopefully laugh a little. Exchange details about our lives.” Like they’d done yesterday over pizza and a movie. He hadn’t spent a day doing nothing with a woman since...

  Since his parents’ divorce, when he’d been shown how hurtful love could be. College then. Maybe grad school. He’d had female friends back then, before he’d placed his focus on his career.

  She stared at him for a long moment. The dull drone of the
office went on beyond them. A phone rang, chatter hummed and someone walked by at a clipped pace. She didn’t even glance at the person, and neither did he.

  He didn’t care what anyone else thought. Not in this moment.

  A corner of her mouth quirked up, fell, rose again. She closed her eyes, and he watched her resistance slide away with a slow sigh. Her smile grew and he buzzed with premature success. “Do you know what you’re doing?” she asked when she opened her eyes.

  “Yes,” he reassured her. He did now. “Do you?”

  Her soft laugh held a mix of disbelief and resignation. “No,” she admitted with a smile. “But I’m hoping you’re worth the risk.”

  Was he? He wasn’t sure of that in all honesty. But it also wasn’t his assessment to make. He stole from Trevor’s playbook and remained silent, waiting for her, not pushing or retreating.

  “Sure,” she finally said, her voice low.

  It wasn’t the firm declaration he’d hoped for, but he’d take it. “I’ll text you with the details,” he said as he straightened.

  Her brows went up, doubt showing. “I, ah...” She swallowed. “You said dinner, right?”

  He paused, confused. “Yes.” Then he understood. The text. “This isn’t a playdate,” he said softly. “If that’s what you’re wondering.”

  “No?”

  “No.” Unless she wanted it to be—after they ate. “Dinner and conversation, that’s all I’m asking for.”

  Her smile returned as she sat back. A soft warmth moved in to bring an enticing light to her eyes. “Okay.”

  The two men exited Gregory’s office at that point. A stack of folders was tucked under Gregory’s arm along with his tablet. “Carson. Avery.” He nodded at both of them and strode by without another word.

  Drake followed, his acknowledgment a mere compression of his lips as he passed. He didn’t even look at Avery, and part of Carson was too damn relieved.

  Avery tracked their departure before looking back to Carson. She tilted her head, contemplated him. “We have some things to discuss.” Her gaze scanned back down the hallway.

  “Agreed.” They had a number of things to talk through. “I’ll pick you up at seven tomorrow. Deal?”

  She gave him a reluctant smile, but he caught the amusement in her eyes. “Deal.”

  He left after that. There was work to do, and he didn’t want people speculating about them. Not yet at least—if ever.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “I have a date,” Avery told Karen when she burst into their apartment the next night. She glanced at the clock, cursing silently. She dropped her bag, kicked off her shoes and rushed past her stunned roommate to her room. “In ten minutes.” Damn delayed bus.

  “Wait. What?”

  Karen’s call chased her as she slid open her closet door. Guilt nipped at her for keeping the date a secret out of fear of jinxing it. She’d spent most of the last two days expecting him to cancel.

  “What’s going on?” Karen asked from the open doorway.

  Avery spared her a quick glance before refocusing on the line of color-coordinated clothing hanging on the rod. She rubbed Flip with her foot in an attempt to appease the cat as she wound her way around Avery’s legs. “I have no idea what to wear,” she mumbled to herself. A light sweater? Nice T-shirt? Skirt? Jeans? Slacks?

  Karen came forward to stand beside her. “What kind of a date is it?”

  “A first, but not first,” she tried to explain without details. “Dinner, but I don’t know where.” He’d given her no further information, not even when he’d texted her last night to ask how her day had gone.

  A general text. A “how are you doing?” text. Something simple, almost mundane, yet she’d fallen asleep to the promise of it.

  “Is it with the Saturday-night-rolled-into-all-day-Sunday guy?” Karen raised a speculative brow.

  Avery ignored the question, but her grin grew despite her efforts to smother it. She pointedly shoved her hangers aside as she assessed and rejected each item. She couldn’t verbally acknowledge the positive answer to Karen’s question. Not if she wanted to contain that pesky thing fluttering in her chest and dancing beside those silly fantasies of love and a relationship and—Nope. Not yet. Maybe never with him. But maybe...

  Karen plucked a hanger from the line of clothing and held up a red top with a deep V-neck and shiny silver buttons. “Wear this with your black skinny jeans and red heels.”

  Avery bit her lip, undecided. “How about my black flare skirt?”

  “Perfect.” She swung back to the closet. “Get moving,” she commanded. “You have five minutes.”

  “Oh, God.” Avery stripped off her office clothes, uncaring for once where the dirty items landed. She grabbed a matching bra and panty set from her dresser and darted into the bathroom across the hallway.

  “So, it’s that kind of date,” Karen said with a laugh.

  Was it? She both hoped so and not. Hell, she didn’t know what she wanted anymore. Carson had her thoughts and emotions twisted into such a knot that she couldn’t define them.

  She quickly undid her bun and brushed her hair out. Her makeup would have to suffice with a fresh coat of lipstick. She raced back to her room, heart speeding along in a flight of anxious anticipation. She didn’t want to be late. Didn’t want to think too much. Didn’t want to dream.

  “Is this with the sex guy?” Karen asked, her smirk somewhere between amused and concerned.

  A firm knock at their front door saved Avery from responding. She froze.

  Karen’s eyes went wide before her smile turned devious. “I’ll get that,” she chirped as she left the room.

  “Karen,” Avery called in warning, unsure of exactly what she was cautioning her about.

  She yanked on the outfit Karen had laid on her bed. A quick look in the mirror confirmed everything was on correctly and free of cat hair. The sleeveless blouse draped over her breasts in an alluring way before it skimmed her form to end at her hips. The midthigh length of the skirt worked perfectly with the top to give it a fun yet dressy feel. Should she add a necklace?

  The deep rumble of Carson’s laugh drifted down the hallway to spur Avery to move faster. The longer Karen was alone with him, the more intel she’d gather, and that could be dangerous for the coming interrogation. How long could she avoid Karen’s questions?

  She slipped her heels on, paused, her hand resting on her hip. Could she do it? What would it feel like?

  “Have you known Avery long?”

  Avery squeezed her eyes closed at hearing Karen’s question. She needed to move.

  “A while,” Carson answered, the deliberate vagueness both a relief and a disappointment.

  She shook her head in an attempt to remove the warring emotions. This was just another moment. A chance to own the new confidence Carson had given her.

  With a firm nod, she slipped off the scarlet panties she’d just put on. Air swooped over her pussy in silent condemnation. She’d never gone out in public without her underwear or some form of lingerie covering her.

  A secret smile lit her face when she turned back to the mirror. She wiggled her hips. Her skirt swished against her thighs, her pussy noticeably exposed beneath the fabric. She soaked up the naked sensation, a secret smile forming. More than anything, it was the knowledge that she was completely bare beneath her skirt that teased her.

  And nobody would know.

  A spark of that wanton, sexy woman who’d emerged with Carson flared to life. She’d hold on to her secret—or maybe share it early. Taunt him. See his eyes flare with desire.

  Her shoulders were back, confidence spreading as she strode down the short hall to greet Carson. His presence seemed to overtake their small space with the calm control he exerted. His dark suit fit him perfectly—like all of his suits did—accentuating his shoulders and tap
ering to his waist. The only change from his office appearance was the lack of a tie. Was that significant?

  “Hi. Sorry I’m late.” Her voice was steady, and she praised herself on her casual facade. “The buses were slow.”

  Carson made a long, slow glance down her and back up. Appreciation blazed when he smiled. “Not a problem.” He leaned down to brush a kiss on her cheek. His hand settled on her lower back in a light hold that managed to feel possessive. It ignited her longing as did his whispered praise. “You look beautiful. Like always.”

  “Thank you.” Her heart did that silly flip and plunged without her consent. This was just a date. One date—after more than a month of wild, passionate sex. She cleared her throat and turned to her roommate, her hand falling from his chest. When had she placed it there? “You’ve met Karen?” she asked him even though he obviously had.

  “Yes,” they said in unison.

  Karen’s smile said Avery would most certainly be grilled the next time she saw her. “Have a good night.” Her words were polite and neutral, but Avery caught the unspoken implication. Have some really hot sex.

  If only she knew, and what would she think of Avery then?

  Carson helped her with her black cropped jacket and held out his arm for her to take as they left her condo. Her nerves swelled, but she forced them aside. This was nothing. It was just Carson. A simple date.

  She was making too much of it.

  The night air was comfortable, yet she was acutely aware of it caressing over her thighs and beneath her skirt. Her secret did a naughty dance that nudged aside her conservatism. This was fun, even though it barely registered on the daring scale.

  The leather seat was cool on the underside of her thighs, and sent another reminder of her naked state. She crossed her legs, a knowing smile on her lips. Would she tell him? Show him? When? Where?

  “Do you like seafood?” he asked once he’d started the car.

  She looked to him, her nugget of power held tightly. “Yes.”

  Dusk was settling in, bringing the gentle softness that came before dark. It washed the harshness from Carson’s features and highlighted the gentler side of him. The little quirk of his lips. That bump on his nose that she’d assimilated into his features but kept him from being too perfect. The deep blue of his eyes that exposed a hint of his own nervousness.