“I’ll have whatever he’s drinking,” Giana said to the bartender, nodding toward his glass of bourbon.
“Coming right up,” the tattooed blond bartender said. He reached for a tumbler, poured two thumbs of the high-end bourbon into it and then slid it her way. Then he topped off Wynn’s before heading over to another couple down the bar.
“Cheers.” Wynn held up his glass.
“Cheers.” Giana clinked her glass with his and surprisingly threw back her head and killed the entire drink while he merely took a sip.
“Giana! You were supposed to sip that,” Wynn laughed.
“It’s been a long year courting you, Wynn. I deserve this drink and much more.”
Wynn chuckled. “Was I that difficult?”
Giana snorted. “You know you were, but it’s behind us.” She spun around to look him dead in the eye. “Although the intensity of the other night shocked the hell out of me, I’m here because I’m no coward.”
“I’m glad you’re not.”
“I’d like to explore the dynamic between us and see where it goes, but understand this, Wynn, it won’t be on your terms.”
He frowned. He didn’t like where this was going. “What do you mean?”
“I won’t be just your bedmate.”
“No? What do you want?”
“If you want me to go out on the limb with you, then you have to be willing to give something in return.”
“Like what?”
“I admit I’m not exactly comfortable being with someone with whom I have a working relationship,” Giana started, “but I’m willing to go there. Just get one thing straight—I won’t be your booty call, Wynn. Exclusive or not. You have to be willing to explore the possibility we could be more.”
Silas had been right. She wanted a relationship, which was one of Wynn’s hard limits. After Christine, he’d steered clear of them. Wynn wasn’t aiming to repeat past mistakes. “Giana—”
“No, Wynn,” she interrupted him. “This is nonnegotiable. If you want to be with me, you have to be willing to put your heart on the table, the same as me. Those are my terms.”
“And if I don’t accept?”
Giana folded her arms across her chest. “I leave and go home and curl up with a good book.”
Staring into her eyes, Wynn knew she wasn’t joking. Giana had a stubborn streak. If he said no, she would walk away and never look back. His gut told him if he didn’t accept her terms, he ran the risk of missing out on something spectacular, because Giana Lockett was a phenomenal woman. But on the other hand, Wynn hadn’t seriously dated anyone since Christine.
“I’ve been burned in the past,” he offered up after a short silence.
“I know.”
His eyes immediately darted upward to connect with hers. There wasn’t pity in her gaze, merely resolve.
“I only read what was in my investigator’s file on you. I don’t know the whole story. You can tell me one day,” she added, “when you’re ready.”
Wynn glanced down at the bourbon still in his hand. He picked up the drink and downed it fast, just as Giana had. “I accept your terms.”
* * *
Giana couldn’t believe he’d said yes. Strong, sexy, arrogant Wynn had agreed to her conditions. She’d assumed based on how acrimonious Wynn’s divorce had been that he’d turn her down flat and she would be off the hook. As she’d told her father, she wasn’t looking for a relationship and wanted to focus on her career. Yet, somehow, by calling Wynn’s bluff with one of her own, she’d inadvertently walked her way into a possible relationship.
How had that happened?
She should never have risked it. Now not only her career but her heart was on the line, because Giana feared Wynn had the power to hurt her. Whenever he was around, her defenses and control were gone, and she was vulnerable to his special brand of charm.
“You ready to get out of here?” Wynn asked as he placed several bills on the bar.
“Where are we going?” She was sure the answer was back to his place. He probably wanted her on her back as soon as possible, but Wynn surprised her with his answer.
“It’s Friday night. I thought we’d go dancing.”
“Dancing?” She couldn’t remember the last time she’d done that. Probably when she’d been in college and hanging out with her friends. Since joining the Atlanta Cougars, her life had revolved around becoming the best executive she could be. She wanted to be Roman’s right hand as he’d been for their father. She was determined to show she was the best woman for the job. She hadn’t had time for dancing.
“C’mon.” Wynn took hold of her hand and wove their fingers together. “Let’s go.” He led her toward the exit. Once outside, she was shocked when he headed toward a motorcycle. He disengaged their hands long enough to hand her a helmet.
“What’s this for?”
“Duh? To put on,” Wynn stated. “Safety first.” He placed the helmet on her head.
Giana pushed up the visor to glare at him. “I’m not getting on that death trap.”
“Have you ever been on one?”
“No, but—”
“Then you don’t know what you’re missing,” Wynn said, and before she could object, his big hands circled around her hips and he placed her on top of the bike.
“Wynn! I’m not comfortable with this.”
“Trust me, okay? I’ve got you.” Then he was hauling one leg over the bike and turning on the engine. “Wrap your arms around my waist.”
Giana did as he instructed and was rewarded with feeling Wynn’s rock-hard abs. Seconds later, the motorbike took off.
At first, she was scared out of her wits, but the more Wynn maneuvered the bike in and out of traffic, the more relaxed she became. Giana had never done anything this reckless before. Wynn brought out a youthfulness Giana hadn’t felt since she was in college. Eventually, she began leaning into the turns. She loved having her thighs so close to Wynn’s. She loved how he handled the bike with ease, and before she knew it, they were pulling into the parking lot of the popular nightclub Latitudes.
Once they stopped, she took off the helmet and shook out her hair, running her fingers through the strands to fluff them out. Giana hated to think about how she must look. When she’d decided to wear her hair down, she’d had no idea she’d get helmet head.
“Stop.” Wynn grabbed her hand. “You look beautiful!”
Giana laughed. “If you say so.” She followed him toward the entrance, where a big, beefy guy stood manning the door. Wynn walked up to the VIP rope, and the guy immediately opened the rope to allow them to pass.
“Do you come here often?”
Wynn shook his head. “Naw, I know the owner. He used to be one of my kids I mentored at the Boys & Girls Club. I have a standing table if I ever want it.”
The club was filled to the rafters with men and women dancing underneath the strobe lights to a pounding mix of R&B and hip-hop. Some of the women were in slinky dresses barely covering their bottoms. Giana felt overdressed in her jumpsuit.
The hostess knew Wynn and gave him a hug and then led them to a roped-off VIP area complete with leather couches and low end tables. “Thanks, Asia,” Wynn said.
“Of course. I’ll let Alex know you’re here. In the meantime, I’ll get you a bottle of bourbon.” She glanced at Giana. “Can I get you anything?”
“No, thanks. I’ll stick to the bourbon,” Giana replied and joined Wynn, who was already making himself comfortable on one of the sofas. “You continue to surprise me, Wynn. Considering how the press calls you a recluse, I wouldn’t think you’d frequent a place like this.” She removed her leather jacket.
“I admit I like to keep to myself,” he said, helping her out of it. “But every now and then, I do like to go out and have fun.”
“I have a feeling I haven’t eve
n skimmed the surface in knowing who you really are.”
But as the evening progressed, Giana got a close-up look at this man. She met one of his former mentees who owned the club, and Wynn introduced her as his girlfriend. Then they partied like rock stars, sipping on cocktails and grooving on the dance floor. Afterward, they tucked into some fried shrimp, hush puppies and mozzarella sticks. He’d thought Giana was too bourgeois for such fare, but she’d quickly reminded him it was football food and her family owned a football franchise.
They washed the fried treats down with ice-cold beer and eased back onto the sofa to people watch. They made up stories about the lively group of young women they suspected were having a girls’ night and the couple dirty dancing on the floor once the music changed to slow jams.
“I don’t think they know what they’re doing,” Wynn said, rising to his feet and holding out his hand. “I think we should show them how it’s done.”
Once in the midst of the crowd, Wynn drew Giana into his arms, and they began swaying to the music. When she looked up at him, his eyes glittered with desire, so it was no surprise when he dropped his head and crushed his lips to hers. He kissed her with a fierce possession as if she truly was his lady.
A flicker of passion stirred in the pit of her stomach at the urgency of Wynn’s deepening kiss, and Giana curled her arms around his neck. Wynn’s tongue expertly dueled with hers, and Giana once again was reminded of the mastery of his kiss. Her mind told her they were making out in the middle of a club like randy teenagers, but her body was in control and she wanted him with a ferocity that shocked her.
When he lifted his head, she wanted to protest. “Let’s get out of here,” he murmured. “I want you naked underneath me.”
“Can’t wait.”
After grabbing their coats, they started for his bike outside. “My place or yours?” Wynn asked.
“Yours.” Giana didn’t relish trying to explain why there was a motorcycle outside her parents’ guesthouse the next morning.
The ride back to Wynn’s place was smooth, and after he punched in the code, the gates opened, allowing them in and closing everyone else out. And that’s exactly what Giana wanted, because this time she intended to stay the whole night—and maybe the next morning, too.
Eleven
Wynn had to put a lot on the line to get Giana back to his home, but as he lay on the bed and watched her undress, it was all worth it. Any worries he had about venturing into a new relationship flew out the window when Giana eased the side zipper of the jumpsuit down, allowing it to fall in a silken puddle at her feet, leaving her in a bra and thong.
“Come here,” he growled. He wanted to do the honors and remove them himself.
She smiled mischievously as she sauntered toward him and climbed on the bed to straddle him. “You have too many clothes on.” She pushed at his shirt. Her fingers worked the buttons slowly but deliberately, undoing the top two before she got frustrated, lifted the tails from his jeans and tore the shirt open, sending buttons flying everywhere.
“I like your eagerness,” Wynn commented as her fingertips explored the muscular ridges of his abdomen. Her hands eased upward until she reached his nipples and circled them with her nails. Wynn let out a guttural oath when she lowered her head and tongued them with her hot, wet mouth.
It was as if a dam had broken. He quickly shifted so that she was underneath him and he could kiss her again. She moaned when his hands began hungrily roaming her body. He needed her in a way that made no sense. Without breaking the connection, he reached behind her to unhook her bra and release her gorgeous breasts from their restraints.
A heady rush of achievement flooded his body. He cupped her breasts possessively and teased her nipples, making her back arch. Giana moaned.
“Soon,” he promised. Then he lowered his head to take one turgid peak into his mouth and tongued it with wet lashes of his tongue before giving the other breast the same attention. While he made love to her with his mouth, his hands went lower, and she understood his intent, because Giana lifted her hips, allowing him to drag her thong down her shapely legs until she was completely naked.
The sight of her was intoxicating, and Wynn felt like he was high on a drug he hadn’t known he was craving. His arousal was straining hard in his jeans, and he couldn’t wait to be rid of them. He pushed himself up to a standing position so he could dispense with his clothing. As soon as he got his boxers and jeans off in one movement, his erection sprang forward.
Her mouth dropped open, but she welcomed him by opening her arms. He joined her on the bed and kissed her again. Meanwhile, his fingers trailed down her inner thighs to probe the slick folds at her core. Giana bucked under him, choking out a sob.
“You’re so wet,” he groaned, drawing his hand away. “I can’t wait to be inside you.”
“I want that, too, but if you keep doing that, I’ll come.”
“Babe, that’s the point.” He continued stroking her, stoking the flame until she cried out.
Wynn loved the way Giana responded to him. His hard-on was getting bigger and bigger by the second. “Give me a moment.”
He fumbled in the drawer beside his bed. When he found the foil condom packet, he ripped it open with his teeth and seconds later rejoined her. “Where were we?”
She angled her body, and Wynn settled between her legs. His shaft probed for a moment before thrusting slowly but surely inside her.
Giana gasped. “You feel so good.”
He grinned, then dug his fingers into her hips, holding her in place so he could begin to move in and out. Each thrust brought him closer to direct contact with her sensitive nub. “Look at me,” he growled into her ear.
She glanced up, her eyes glassy with passion, but she didn’t look away as he began slamming into her harder and faster, deeper and deeper until pleasure crashed over them, taking them both in the tidal wave. Giana reached the peak first and shook as her orgasm struck. Wynn was right behind her, shouting as they shattered into a million pieces.
* * *
Giana awoke feeling sore in the all the right places. During the night, Wynn had made love to her multiple times, as if he was making up for lost time. Her blood was still fizzing from the amazing orgasm he’d given her before going downstairs to make breakfast. Giana lost track of time, having fallen asleep on and off through the night as Wynn took her to new heights.
He returned to the bed wearing boxer shorts and carrying a tray. She would never tire of looking at him: the broad, well-muscled shoulders, defined abs, lean waist and tightest butt she’d ever encountered. He was irresistible.
She sat up on the bed, pushing the pillows back and not caring that she was completely bare-chested. “What have you got there?” she inquired as he placed the tray on her lap.
“Exactly what I promised if you had stayed a week ago,” Wynn stated. “Enjoy.” He brushed his lips across hers.
“Looks delicious.” Giana grabbed a fork and took a sliver of what she imagined to be a veggie omelet. The flavors exploded in her mouth. “Mmm,” she moaned. “This is delicious. You really are a good cook.”
“Thank you. I need you to keep your strength up if you’re going to keep up with me.”
Giana laughed. “I’ve never had someone with so much...er...stamina.”
Wynn laughed. “Probably because I’ve been celibate for a few years.”
“You have? Why?” She was stunned by his admission. She’d known he was a recluse, but not that much of one.
He shrugged. “After my divorce, I was very ambivalent about the opposite sex. I thought it was better if I focused on building my company. Plus, I was in the middle of taking Starks Inc. public, and it seemed a better use of my energy.”
“That explains your enthusiasm in the bedroom now,” Giana said, spearing another forkful of omelet.
“Are you worrying if you can k
eep up with me?”
“Why do you always doubt me?” Giana said. “I assure you, Mr. Starks, I can keep up with the likes of you.”
“Care to prove it?” Wynn asked with a smirk.
Giana placed her tray on the nightstand and then pushed Wynn down onto the bed and straddled him. “Allow me to show you.”
* * *
Giana rushed up from the guesthouse to the Lockett mansion for their weekly Sunday dinner. She’d had to rush out of bed with Wynn to the shower. She’d told him she wouldn’t be available for the evening because of their family dinner. He’d been surprised families still did that sort of thing, but he understood. They promised to get together tomorrow after work.
Giana was in an actual relationship, dating exclusively. Wynn had once again brought up the word exclusive in bed yesterday afternoon after their marathon lovemaking session. He seemed obsessed with the word, from making sure the Atlanta Cougars only did Starks Inc. sports drink endorsements to making it clear he wouldn’t share Giana with another man.
She’d explained she wasn’t seeing anyone, but she did plan on keeping her status to herself at dinner. She loved her family, but they could be busybodies.
“Greetings!” she yelled as she walked into the family room and saw the entire Lockett clan gathered around the fireplace. It was a chilly day, and she’d wrapped the wide, faux fur lapels of her wool coat tight around her as she walked up from the guesthouse.
“Darling! There you are.” Her mother, Angelique, came toward her. She’d recently cut her shoulder-length jet-black hair into a bob, but it was still perfectly styled, as was the trouser and sweater set with pearls she wore. Her peanut butter complexion was flawless with minimal makeup.
“Hi, Mom.” Giana accepted her kiss and hug. “Sorry I’m late.”
“It’s not like you, Gigi,” Julian said with a knowing smirk from behind their mother.
“Time slipped away from me,” Giana responded, glaring at him. She walked over to her father by the fireplace and stood on her tippy toes to brush a kiss across his cheek. “Daddy.”
Holiday Playbook--A Christmas workplace romance Page 8