Taking the Boss to Bed

by Joss Wood

  Unable to enter her apartment and stay there like a good little woman, she’d headed downstairs, hailed a cab and headed for Ryan’s apartment, seething the whole way. Maybe he could afford to let Blown Away blow away but she couldn’t! She wasn’t going to allow him to lose this chance to show the world, her family—to show herself—that she could be successful, too. It was a good script and she was determined that the world would see it!

  Jaci released her tightly bunched hands and flexed her fingers; for an intensely smart man, Ryan could be amazingly stupid. And Jaci was going to tell him so—no man was going to get away with dismissing her again. She didn’t care if he was her boss, or her fake boyfriend or her almost, albeit fake, fiancé. There was too much at stake: the film, her career and, most important right now, her pride.

  Jaci rested her forehead against the oak-paneled interior of the elevator.

  Unlike in her arguments with Clive, this time she would scream and shout. She’d do anything to be heard, dammit! And Ryan, that bossy, alpha, sexy sod, was going to get it with both barrels! Jaci had barely completed that thought when the elevator doors opened and she was looking into Ryan’s living room, which was filled with comfortable couches and huge artwork. He stood in front of the mantel, and despite her anger, Jaci felt the slap of attraction. How could she not since he looked so rough and tough in his white dress shirt that showed off the breadth of his shoulders, his pants perfectly tailored to show off his lean waist and hips, his long, muscled legs.

  The top two buttons of the shirt were open and the ends of his bow tie lay against his chest, and she wanted her hands there, on his chest, under his shirt, feeling that warm, masculine skin.

  Focus. She wasn’t here to have sex with him...but, dear God with all his angels and archangels, she wanted to. She wanted to as she wanted her heart to keep beating.

  If she was a man at least she would have the excuse of thinking with the little head, but because she was a woman she was out of luck.

  “What do you want, Jaci?” Ryan demanded, jamming his hands into his suit pockets.

  You. I want you. So much.

  Jaci shook her head to dislodge that thought. This wasn’t about a tumble, this was about the way he had treated her. Her third-grade teacher, Mrs. Joliet, was correct: Jacqueline is too easily distracted. Nothing, it seemed, had changed.

  Jaci licked her lips.

  “God, will you stop doing that?” Ryan demanded, his harsh voice cutting through the dense tension between him.

  “What?” Jaci demanded, not having a clue what he was talking about. Her eyes widened as he stalked toward her, all fierce determination and easy grace, his eyes on her mouth.

  “Licking your lips, biting your lip! That’s my job.” He grabbed her arms and jerked her up onto her toes. It was such a caveman-like action, but she couldn’t help the thrill she felt when her chest slammed into his and her nipples pushed into his chest. If she wasn’t such a sap she would be protesting about him treating her like a ditsy heroine in a romcom movie, but right now she didn’t care. She was pressed so close to him that a beam of light couldn’t pass through the space between them, and his mouth was covering hers.

  And, God, then her world tipped over and flipped inside out. The kisses she’d shared with him before were a pale imitation of the passion she could taste on the tongue that swept inside her mouth, that she could feel in the hand that made a possessive sweep over her back, in the appreciative, low groans that she could hear in the back of his throat. In a small, rarely used part of her brain—the only cluster of brain cells that weren’t overwhelmed by this fantastically smoking-hot kiss—she was in awe of the fact that Ryan wanted her like this.

  It almost seemed as if kissing her, touching her, was more important to him than breathing. Actually, Jaci agreed, breathing was highly overrated. Her hands drifted up his chest, skimmed the warm skin beneath the collar of his shirt and wound around the back of his strong neck, feeling his heat, his strength. Then his hand covered her breast and he rubbed his palm across her nipple and, together with feeling the steel pipe that was pressing into her stomach, those last few brain cells shut down.

  Ryan jerked his head back and, when she met them, his light eyes glittered down at her. “So, we’re engaged, right?”

  Jaci half shrugged. “Probably. At least we will be, in the eyes of the world, when the news breaks in a few hours.”

  “Well, in that case...” Ryan bent his knees and ran his hands up the outside of her thighs, her dress billowing over his forearms. “It’s a damn good excuse to do this.”

  Jaci gasped as he played with the lace tops of her garters, danced up and across her hip bone and slid down to cover her bare butt cheek.

  “Garters and a thong. I’ve died and gone to heaven,” Ryan muttered, sliding his fingers under that thin cord.

  Ryan sucked the soft spot where her jaw and neck met, and she whimpered in delight. “God, Ryan...is this a good idea?”

  Ryan pulled his head up and frowned down at her. “Who the hell knows? But if I’m going to be bagged and tagged, then I’m going to get something out of the deal. Stop playing with my hair and put your hands on me, Jace. I’m dying here.”

  Jaci did as she was told and she placed her hand flat against his sex. He jumped and groaned and she wanted more. She wanted him inside her, filling her, stretching her...but she had to be sensible.

  “Just sex?” she asked, unable to stop her hand from pulling down the zipper to his pants and sliding on inside. She pushed down his underwear and there he was, hot and pulsing and hard and...oh, God, his hands were between her legs and he’d found her. Found that most magical, special, make-her-crazy spot...

  “Yeah, one night to get this out of our systems. You okay with that? One night, no strings, no expectations of more?”

  How was she supposed to think when his fingers were pushing their way inside? Her thumb rubbed his tip and she relished the groan she pulled from him. They were still fully dressed yet she was so damn close to gushing all over his hand. If he moved his thumb back to her hot nub, she’d lose it. Right here, right now.

  “I’m supposed to be fighting with you right now,” Jaci wailed.

  Ryan responded by covering her mouth with his. After swiping his tongue across the indents her teeth marks made, he lifted his head to speak. “We can fight later. So, are we good? If not, now is the time to say no, and you’d better do it fast.”

  His words and attitude were tough but she couldn’t miss the tension she felt in his body, in the way his arms tightened his hold on her, as if he didn’t want to let her go. She should say no; it was the clever thing to do. She couldn’t form the word, so she encased him in her fist and slid her hand up and then down his shaft in a low, sensuous slide.

  Ryan responded by using his free hand to twist the thin rope of her underwear. She felt it rip, felt the quick tug, and then the fabric drifted down her leg to fall onto her right foot.

  “This dress is killing me,” he muttered, trying to pull the long layers up so that he could get as close to her as possible, while nudging her backward to the closest wall. She wasn’t this person, Jaci thought. She didn’t have sex up against a wall, she didn’t scream and moan and sigh. She’d never been the person to make her lovers shout and groan and curse.

  But, unless she was having a brilliant, mother of a hallucination, she was being that person right now. And...yay!

  “It would be a lot easier if we just stripped,” Jaci suggested, feeling the cool wall against her back. She leaned forward to push Ryan’s pants and underwear down his thighs.

  “That’ll take too long.” Ryan leaned his chest into hers, gripped the back of her thighs and lifted her. With unerring accuracy, his head found her channel and he slid along her, causing her to let out a low shriek of pleasure. “I can’t wait for you, I can’t leave...but God, we n
eed a condom.”

  Jaci banged her head against the wall as he probed her entrance. “On the pill and I’ve been tested for every STD under the sun,” she muttered.

  “I’m clean, too.” Ryan choked the words out.

  “I need you now. No more talking, no more fighting, just you and...” She lifted her hips and there he was, inside her, stretching her, filling her, completing her.

  Ryan’s mouth met hers and his tongue mimicked the movement of his hips, sliding in and out, leaving no part of her unexplored. Jaci felt hyperaware, as if her every sense was jacked up to maximum volume. She yanked his shirt up and ran her hands over his chest, around his ribs and down his strong back, digging her nails into his buttocks when he tilted his hips and went even deeper. She cried out and he yelled, and then suddenly she was riding a white-hot wave. In that moment of magical release, she felt connected to all the feminine energy in the world and she was its conduit.

  She felt powerful and uninhibited and so damn wild. When she came back to herself, back to the wall and to Ryan’s face buried in her neck, his broad hands were still holding her thighs.

  Jaci dropped her face into his neck and touched her tongue to the cord in his neck. “Take me to bed, Ryan. We can fight later.”

  “I can do that, and we most likely will,” Ryan muttered as he pulled out of her and allowed her to slide down his body. He kicked off his pants and pulled her, her hair and dress and mind tangled, down the hallway to his bedroom. “But, for now, I can’t wait any longer... I’ve got to see you naked.”

  Seven

  Jaci pushed back the comforter and left the bed, glancing down at her naked body. Clothes would be nice and she wrinkled her nose at the pile of fabric in a heap on the floor, just on this side of the door. Pulling that on was going to be horrible, as was the walk of shame she’d be doing later as she headed back to her apartment in a wrinkled dress and with messy hair.

  Then Jaci saw the T-shirt and pair of boxer shorts on Ryan’s pillow. They hadn’t been there earlier so Ryan must have left them for her to wear. Sweet of him, she thought, pulling the T-shirt over her head. It was enormous on her, the hem coming to midthigh. It was long enough for her to be decent without wearing underwear but there was no way that she was going commando. She couldn’t even pull on the thong she wore last night since Ryan had, literally, ripped it off her. Sighing, she pulled up his boxers, rolling the waistband a couple of times until she was certain they wouldn’t fall off her hips.

  “Mornin’.”

  Jaci yelped and spun around, her mouth drying at the sight of a rumpled, unshaven Ryan standing in the doorway, dressed only in a faded pair of jeans, zipped but not buttoned. She was so used to seeing him impeccably, stylishly dressed that observing him looking like a scruffy cowboy had her womb buzzing. She started to bite her lip and abruptly stopped.

  “Hi,” she murmured, unable to keep the heat from flaring on her cheeks. She’d kissed those rock-hard abs, raked her fingers up those hard thighs, taken a nip of those thick biceps. And if he gave her one hint that he’d like her to do it again, she’d Flash Gordon herself to his side.

  But Ryan kept his face impassive. “Coffee?”

  “Yeah.” Jaci made herself move toward the door and took the cup from his hand, being careful not to touch him. She took a grateful sip, sighed and met his eyes. His shoulder was against the door frame and he looked dark and serious, and she quickly realized that playtime was over. “I guess you want to talk?”

  What about? Being engaged? Leroy? The script? The amazing sex they’d shared?

  “Since we are the leading story in the entertainment world, I think that would be a very good idea.” Ryan peeled himself from the door and walked down the hallway. Well, that answered that question. Good thing, because while she knew that she was old enough to have a one-night stand with her fake boyfriend, she doubted that she could talk about it. Jaci followed, trying but not succeeding at keeping her eyes off his tight, masculine butt.

  “I have a million messages on my mobile and in my inbox, from reporters and friends, asking if it’s true,” Ryan said, heading across his living room to the luxurious open-plan kitchen. He grabbed the coffeepot and refilled a cup that had been sitting on the island in the center of the kitchen. Judging by the fact that the coffeepot was nearly empty, he’d been up for a while and this was his third or fourth cup.

  Jaci took a sip from her own cup of coffee and wrinkled her nose at the bitter, dark taste. “What do you want to do? Deny or confirm?”

  Ryan rested his bottom against the kitchen counter and pushed a hand through his hair. “I suppose that depends on your explanation on why you made such an asinine comment.”

  Jaci swallowed down her retort and another sip of coffee. Taking a seat on one of the stools that lined the breakfast bar, she put her cup on the granite surface and placed her chin in the palm of her hand. “I tried to explain last night.”

  “Last night there was only one thing I wanted from you and it wasn’t an explanation.” He waved his coffee cup. “Go.”

  Jaci rubbed her forehead with her fingertips in an effort to ease the headache that was gaining traction. Too much sex and not enough sleep. “Leroy hired a PI to investigate me, and you, by the way. He obviously found out about my broken engagement and was questioning how quickly I moved on.”

  Ryan’s focus on her face didn’t waver. “Okay. I presume that you had a very good reason for leaving the politician?”

  “You still haven’t done your own digging?” Jaci asked, surprised.

  “I’m waiting for your version,” Ryan replied. “Not important now... Go back to explaining how we got engaged.”

  “Right.” Jaci sipped and sighed. “I asked Banks why me, what this was all about. I mean, this makes no sense to me... I’m nothing special. He said that it didn’t matter why he wanted me, only that he always gets what he wants. That he’s now using me to get a handle on you.” Jaci ran a fingertip around the rim of her cup. “I thought that we needed to take me out of the equation, to remove me as a pawn. That can only happen if we break up or if he thinks that the relationship between us is more serious than he realized. So I thought that if I told him that we were thinking of marriage—thinking of, not that we were engaged—he’d back off.”

  Ryan shook his head. “Marriage, fidelity, faithfulness mean nothing to him. He’s married to a sweet, sexy, lovely woman whom he treats like trash. You just handed him more ammunition to mess with me by suggesting we’re that deeply involved. You poured blood into the water and the sharks are going to come and investigate.”

  Jaci looked bleak. “You mean the press.”

  “Yep. There’s a reason why I keep a low profile, Jaci, and I’ve appeared more in the press since I’ve met you than in the last few years.” Ryan banged his coffee cup as he placed it on the counter and rubbed the back of his neck. “They were relentless when Ben died, and I had so much else I was dealing with that the last thing I needed was to read the flat-out fiction they were printing in the papers. And the last thing I need right now is dealing with the press as I deal with Banks.”

  Jaci tilted her head. “And you smacked him down last night... Are you worried about the consequences? Think he might bail?”

  Ryan lifted a powerful shoulder in an uneasy shrug. “We’ll have to wait and see.”

  “Wait and see?” Jaci demanded, her face flushing. “Ryan, this is my career we’re talking about, my big break. You might be able to afford to let this project go down the toilet but I can’t. If I have any chance of being recognized as a serious scriptwriter, I need this film to be produced, I need it to be successful.”

  “I know that!” Ryan slapped his hands on his hips and scowled at her. “I don’t want this project to fail, either, Jaci. I’ll lose millions of my own money, money that I’ve paid into the development of this film. It’
ll take a good while for me to recover that money if I lose it.”

  “This is such a tangled mess,” Jaci said in a low voice. She flipped him a look. “I shouldn’t have kissed you. It was an impulsive gesture that has had huge consequences.”

  Ryan looked at her for a long time before replying. “Don’t beat yourself up too much. I am also to blame. You didn’t deepen that kiss, I did, and I told Leroy that you were my girlfriend.”

  “Okay, I’ll happily let you accept most of the blame.”

  “Some of the blame. It wasn’t my crazy idea to say that we were thinking of getting married.” Ryan shook his head at her when she opened her mouth to argue. “Enough arguing, okay? I need sustenance.”

  Ryan walked over to the double-door, stainless steel fridge and yanked open a door and stared inside. “You’re wrong, you know,” he said, and Jaci had to strain to hear his words.

  “Since I’ve been wrong so many times lately you’re going to have to be more specific,” Jaci told him.

  “About not being special.” Ryan slammed the door shut and turned around, slowly and unwillingly and, it had to be said, empty-handed. “You are the dream within the dream.”

  Jaci frowned. “Sorry?”

  Ryan cleared his throat and she was amazed that this man, so confident in business and in bed, could look and sound this uneasy. “Banks has everything money can buy except he wants what money can’t buy. Happiness, normality, love.”

  “But you’ve just said that he has a stunning, lovely wife—”

  “Thea was a top supermodel and Banks knows that she is far too good for him.” Ryan folded his arms and rocked on his heels. “Look, forget about it...”

  Jaci shook her head, thinking that she needed to know where he was going with this. “Nope, your turn to spill. Are you telling me that I am more suited to Banks than his gorgeous, sweet, stunning wife?”