by Kara Lennox
“You…you protected me?”
“I couldn’t just throw you to the wolves.”
Jillian was so stunned, she didn’t know what to feel. Even after the terrible things she’d said to him last night, after she’d slapped him, he’d shielded her identity.
“You trusted me with the information,” Conner said, “and I told you I’d take care of it. At that point, it became my problem, not yours. From this point on, you should deny all knowledge. Isaac Cuddy isn’t someone you want for an enemy.”
Unfortunately, it was too late for that. Cuddy had to know who’d ratted him out.
“I don’t know what to say. Do you still believe me?”
“Yeah. Of course. Why would you make that up?”
Conner stood, indicating their meeting was over, and offered her a hand up. She allowed Conner to pull her to her feet, then threw her arms around his neck and hugged him as her gratitude bubbled over.
“Thank you, Conner. Thank you for believing in me despite the evidence. I need this job. Really I do. And thank you for the flowers. They’re beautiful.”
“You’re welcome.” He slid his arms around her body, wrapping her in their warm security, and for a long time they just stood like that. He ran his palm up and down her back reassuringly.
It felt so good, Jillian never wanted to let go. He was so solid, a rock, really. He’d grown from an irresponsible kid into this…this man, standing firm for what he believed, taking care of those he perceived weaker than him—not that she was weaker, of course, but she was pretending to be.
And he smelled so good—like soap and starch and maybe a touch of wood smoke. People in Houston seldom built fires, certainly not in September, but she smelled it just the same, and it made her think of fall and football games and cuddling beneath a stadium blanket with a thermos of hot chocolate….
Another of her girlish fantasies intruding where it had no place, but she indulged in this one. Conner was here, close enough she could feel his heartbeat and every breath he took.
The embrace had gone on far too long, longer than any friendly hug, even one borne of supreme gratitude, had a right to last. Yet she couldn’t seem to let go, and he certainly wasn’t making any move to release her.
With a jolt, she realized he was aroused. She could feel the evidence pushing against her abdomen and hear the change in his breathing. She wasn’t sure when the reassuring rub had turned to a caress, but the feel of his hands on her body had changed, too.
She was torn. A sexual relationship with her boss sounded like the worst sort of mistake she could make. But this was Conner, someone she’d adored and fantasized about. Yes, she’d hated him, too, but he wasn’t really the monster she’d made him out to be.
Oh, God, she was so utterly confused. She needed to be careful. Watch her step. Think things through—
To hell with it.
She pulled back just far enough that she could plant her mouth on his, and she put everything she had and more into that one kiss. Emboldened by so many years of keeping her yearnings bottled up—for him, for Daniel—she pressed herself even more tightly against him, relishing every inch of those defined muscles. His belt buckle dug into her stomach, but she didn’t care.
She’d spent half her life paranoid that someone would know her true feelings, even as she secretly hoped they would.
The cork was out of the bottle now. No way could she pretend she wasn’t feeling a boatload of pure, twenty-four-karat lust for her boss.
Lust. That was all it was, right? That, and some residual bits of a long-ago crush, which had felt a lot like love, but really it couldn’t have been. What did a fourteen-year-old know of love?
Whatever it was, Conner answered it, kissing her every bit as greedily as she kissed him, one arm clamped around her to hold her a willing captive, the other making a bird’s nest of her hair.
This was gonna get messy, in more ways than one.
“Jillian,” he murmured between gasps for oxygen. “What… How…?”
“I know, crazy.” That was as close to a sentence as she could form. She wanted to feel more of him. Bare skin. Tongue.
Unable to control herself, she slid one hand down his back and cupped his granite-hard ass.
Suddenly he broke off the kiss, cradling her head between his large hands and forcing her to look at him.
She was afraid of what she might see there, but she looked without flinching.
She saw a crazy glint that matched the spark of insanity in her soul perfectly.
“We…have…to…stop.” Each word seemed to cost him dearly.
“Uh-huh. I know.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Me, neither.”
“We have to.”
“Okay. Of course. You’re my boss. We can’t—”
He quieted her by kissing her again with even more fervor, if that were possible. “Please tell me you’re on the pill.”
Whoa. The guy didn’t waste time. “I’m not.” His hands were all over her, exploring, seducing, claiming ownership. The zipper at the front of her shirt seemed to magically lower itself. Cool, air-conditioned air swished against her newly bared skin. Her nipples tingled and hardened. “But you have condoms in your desk.”
“Why would you think that?” He cupped one of her breasts and thumbed her nipple through her bra—that lacy bra she’d dressed in especially for today simply because she’d wanted to feel good about herself. She’d had no idea…really, none at all.
“I saw them there when I was organizing your office.”
His hands stopped moving. “Really.”
He sounded genuinely surprised…and intrigued. Suddenly having sex right here, right now, was a real possibility.
“Conner, we can’t.”
He smiled at her, a sexy, to-hell-with-propriety smile, and her inside went liquid with desire. “I think we can.”
She wanted him, bad. But bad enough to risk her job? Not just her Mayall Lumber job. Daniel would have her head on a platter if he found out she’d slept with someone the foundation was investigating.
“You’re making things hard for me,” she said as he dipped his head and licked the top of her breast, then unclasped the bra and allowed her breast to burst free. He plumped it with his hand and licked the nipple.
“So beautiful,” he murmured.
Conner Blake thought she was beautiful. This was some kind of miracle. Maybe she’d gone insane, and this was a crazy delusion. If so, she didn’t want it to end.
“Just let me kiss you.” His voice was rough with desire. “Then we’ll stop.”
“Okay.” She shrugged her way out of the knit top and tossed it aside.
This wasn’t like her. She didn’t strip out of her clothes for a man in broad daylight. In his office. She was terrified by her own lack of common sense and thrilled all at the same time.
She didn’t feel an ounce of shyness or insecurity about her body. There was no awkwardness between her and Conner. Maybe all those hours of fantasy had worked like an intellectual dress rehearsal.
“Which drawer?” he asked, and she knew immediately what he meant. If she told him, there would be no turning back. If she left this business unfinished, she would regret it the rest of her life.
“Bottom left. Way in the back.”
CHAPTER TEN
“DO NOT MOVE.” CONNER SEATED Jillian gently on the sofa, then strode to the desk and leaned down to open the bottom drawer.
He laughed softly as he dragged out a string of neon-glow condoms in clear plastic pouches. “From a bachelor party. Gag gift.”
“Are they functional?” she asked, sounding a little desperate.
He straightened and grinned. “If you don’t mind me looking a bit like The Incredible Hulk.”
Conner had known sooner or later this might happen. Whenever they were in the same room, the air fairly sizzled with the strength of their mutual yearnings. He’d done a fairly good job keeping a lid on it. But when she�
��d kissed him, he’d lost any semblance of control.
These weren’t Victorian times, he told himself. Mayall Lumber didn’t have any kind of rule against employees fraternizing.
She’s your subordinate. She could charge you with sexual harassment.
He returned to Jillian, his stride purposeful, but he didn’t touch her. He tossed the neon condoms onto the sofa, then studied her eyes. Such a ridiculous shade of blue, but he knew they were her own.
“What?” She placed one hand tentatively on his chest. “You’ve come to your senses. I can see it plainly on your face. Well, it’s good one of us still has some mental faculties in place.”
Her voice was tinged with poignant regret, and her eyes, those amazing blue eyes, looked so sad. She thought he was rejecting her. In high school she’d been prepared to hand over her heart on a silver platter. He’d known it even then; her crush was obvious, and he’d thought it amusing. He hadn’t let her down gently; he’d publicly humiliated her. He’d hurt her so badly that she’d carried around the injury for more than a decade while he’d danced off into the sunset, oblivious.
She was offering herself to him again. Not her heart, maybe; he suspected she guarded that particular organ a bit more fiercely than she had in the past. But she still stood here, ready to give him some part of herself, and it wasn’t a decision she took lightly.
This meant something to her.
No way he would reject her. Not that he wanted to.
He reached up and smoothed a strand of hair from her face. “I don’t want to make love to you because I’m too dumb to control myself. I want to do it with all my faculties in perfect order. I want to give you something so sweet it will burn away the bad memories you have about me.
“And I want you to come to me willingly. No matter what comes of this, I don’t want it to become a regret. Right now, I’m not your boss. We’re two equals, coming together of our own free wills.”
She looked a bit bewildered by his suddenly serious mood. “Of course, Conner.” She smiled. “I’m not going to sue you for harassment, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
Was he that transparent? “I’d be an idiot if it didn’t cross my mind. It’d be one helluva way for you to get revenge on me.”
“I wouldn’t.” She looked down at her open shirt, then back up. “You’ll have to make the next move. All this talk…I’m feeling suddenly shy about the whole thing.”
Jeez, she was adorable. She might give the impression of a confident woman most of the time, but right now he could see the remnants of the awkward teenager she’d been. Which just made him want her more.
With one finger on her chin, he tipped her face up. “No more talking, then.” He kissed her, sweetly this time, a slow, seductive meeting of lips, teasing, tempting. But it quickly became something more.
Jillian did have a way of altering his brainwave activity. Logic gave way to pure lust roiling inside him like summer storm clouds pregnant with rain.
He ran his hand over the curve of her hip, finding the hem of her short skirt and pushing it up until he was touching her silky panties. He groaned and deepened the kiss, desperate to feel her skin.
Meanwhile her greedy hands got busy opening the buttons of his shirt, pulling the tails out from his pants until she could slide her hands over his ribs. Her hands were hot.
He grabbed a handful of silk and tugged, exposing her bare bottom. She had the most amazing ass, so firm and trim, yet sweetly rounded like some exotic, ripe fruit. He squeezed one cheek, then the other. He allowed his fingers to flirt between her legs, and she obligingly curled one leg around his, opening herself to exploration.
He tried to take it slow, but any trace of Jillian’s shyness was gone. She was devouring him like he might be her last meal.
Skin. He needed more skin-to-skin contact. He yanked his shirt off, nearly strangling himself because he forgot he’d worn a tie today.
“I’ll do it.” She loosened the tie enough that he could pull it over his head. Somehow she turned the simple act of removing his tie into an erotic gesture, brushing her hands against his collarbone as she manipulated the silk knot and pulled the tie free, sliding it along the back of his neck.
Her bra came next. He drew her to him, pressing her breasts against his chest, teasing her nipples with his own. Those breasts were all hers. He’d thought, given how petite the rest of her figure was, that the breasts were mostly silicone, but no way. They were soft and squeezable, but also firm as plump tomatoes.
Fruits, vegetables—he wanted to consume her, become part of her until it was impossible to tell where he ended and she began.
“Jillian. I need to be inside you.”
“I know.” She tugged at his belt. “You’re not undressing fast enough. This can’t take all day.”
He grinned. “Too much work to do?”
“My boss is a real brute. He’ll do terrible things to me if I don’t finish his budget.”
“I’ll speak sternly to him.”
He took over the job of dropping his pants. She stooped down to untie his shoes, and he found that action erotic, too. In fact, any move she made struck him as sexual. Climbing a ladder, typing, eating…kissing. He just couldn’t imagine anything more erotic than Jillian’s tongue in his mouth, unless—
“Wait…wait just a damn minute.” Before he’d even gotten his pants off, she’d grabbed on to his shorts and yanked them down. She took his erection in her hands, both hands, like she was grabbing onto a baseball bat and intended to swing for a home run.
“Mine,” she said as she sank onto the sofa and put him in her mouth.
“Son of a… Didn’t you say about two minutes ago that you were shy?”
She stopped sucking him long enough to say, “I’m over it.”
“I’ll say— Oh. Jillian. Wait, wait, how much control do you think I have?”
She looked up and grinned at him, her mouth shiny and moist. “A ton, I bet.”
He reached down and grabbed her arms, pulling her to her feet. “Let’s try something different.” He sat on the sofa and pulled her onto his lap. “Let’s get you naked.”
He pulled off first one of her stiletto heels, then the other, caressing her feet and baby-smooth calves in the process. “What happened to your ‘business casual’ wardrobe?”
“I can’t help it. I like pretty clothes.”
“Like these?” He reached under her skirt and fingered the barely there wisp of fabric that currently did nothing to protect her femininity. Her panties were already pulled halfway down her thighs.
“It wasn’t until college that I looked good in clothes. Finally I could wear short skirts and sleeveless tops and bare my stomach. I think I got a little bit high, knowing I looked good. It was a habit I never lost.”
“Clearly.”
“It’s too much. I know. But I dress for me. As a daily reminder that I don’t ever want to gain weight again.”
He wished she wouldn’t call up the memory of that shy, pudgy girl. He found it much easier to make love to Jillian, his sexy assistant, without the ghost of chubby, insecure Jillybean reminding him of what a jerk he’d been.
He slid one hand along her firm thigh and along her hip, then spanned her waist with his hands.
He’d been right. Twenty-four inches. “I like the way you dress, the way you look.”
She leaned in and kissed him hard. “Less talk. More action.”
Normally he didn’t talk during sex, other than the occasional “Move this way, please,” and “Faster, harder.”
But Jillian was more than an attractive body with the sole purpose of satisfying his needs. “You’re pleasant to talk to.”
“Fine, we’ll talk later.” With that she lowered the zipper on her snug, body-forming skirt and started wiggling out of it. All that wiggling was about to make him lose it. He dragged the skirt all the way off and tossed it aside. Finally, she was naked except for a dainty gold chain around her neck and a pair of bangle
s on her wrist that clanked together musically every time she moved.
Her pubic hair was blond, pale blond. He placed his cupped palm over her pubis, testing the texture of the springy curls.
If he had all day with her, he would crawl between her legs and kiss her most secret, sensitive parts until she screamed. He would lick her pink skin, every inch of it. Then he would take her from the front, from the back, on her hands and knees, hell, swinging from the chandelier.
But they were in his office.
She wiggled some more as he stroked her curls and her thighs, then licked his index finger and probed deftly between her legs. Heaven help him, she was drenched in moisture. His member stirred, aching to be inside her.
“Mmm, no.” She forcibly moved his hand away, then maneuvered herself until she sat astride him.
“Like this?”
“Exactly like this.”
He was half sitting on the string of condoms. She pulled one plastic pouch from the end of the string and opened it with her teeth.
It was hot-pink, not green. “No Incredible Hulk?”
“More like the Pink Panther.” She made a great show of sheathing him, taking her time as she rolled the fluorescent latex over him, getting it just so.
“Honey, you’re about to kill me.”
“You’ll die happy.”
“There, it’s perfect.”
Her eyes went smoky. “It is perfect. Oh, Conner, please take me now.”
She was a damn dream come true. “You want me?” He spanned her tiny waist with his hands and lifted her up. She was light as a doll.
“Yes.”
“Like this?”
“Oh, yes.”
“Have I ever told you how much I love hearing you say yes?” He put just his tip inside her warmth. “Even when you’re just agreeing to type up a report?”
She couldn’t answer him. Her eyes were closed, as if she were preparing for a great rapture.
No pressure. He slid into her, and decided rapture was too mild a word. She was so warm. So tight. When she squeaked in surprise at the abrupt impalement, he worried he’d hurt her. But with her next breath she let out a long, languorous sigh and spread her knees wider, taking him even more deeply.