by J. L. Beck
All she needed to do was keep the pretense up a little longer, then she’d come clean. No harm, no foul, but with one night she would never forget. The urge was strong to lead him around the table, sit him in her comfy chair, climb on top and fuck his brains out.
At last, Owen dropped her hand and took a step back, and Liv was grateful that he still had his head on his shoulders and not in his trousers. Unlike her.
Maybe this would work out, after all.
Liv had managed to dodge Owen for almost two weeks.
He’d been put in charge of one of their major renovations, and it was keeping him busy. A couple of times he’d rung her and she’d made sure she was all business. Now that he was officially working for Hanover, they had to be careful to keep their relationship completely professional and not let on to the powers that be that there had been any extracurricular activity. After all, they frowned upon interpersonal partnerships within the company. The last thing she wanted to do was jeopardize that much coveted promotion she’d been after for months.
This also gave her some much needed confidence to feel she could handle her feelings for Owen and the situation they’d found themselves in. Of course, she hadn’t seen him to put this new-found kick-ass ninja-ness to the test, so she was reserving judgment on that one.
“Mary, have I got any messages?” Standing in front of her assistant at almost 4.55pm, she knew she still had a couple of hours at the office to catch up. It was a hectic time—she was personally in charge of three development plus Owen’s build.
“Five telephone messages. Only one needs a reply this evening.” Her assistant, as efficient as ever, passed over a handful of correspondence and her messages. “Oh, and you have another message from the new site foreman. He needs your input on something down on site. He didn’t elaborate.”
Liv froze in mid-sort through of her mail. It had to be Owen. He was the only new guy. Instantly nausea hit her before disappearing as fast as it came.
“Everything okay? You look a little pale.”
Looking down into her friend’s concerned face, Liv nodded slowly before forcing a smile to her face. It wasn’t unusual for her to be on site, overseeing contractual negotiations and meeting clients. This would be a piece of cake, wouldn’t it?
“Sure, it’s been a long day.” Did Mary notice she was gripping the desk? Her nails digging in like claws? If she did, it wasn’t mentioned.
After a few seconds, the older woman nodded and looked back down to her computer. “Well, if you’ve got nothing else for me, I’ll slip away. Norman and I have a dinner date.”
Liv nodded as she listened with one ear to her assistant’s plans for the evening.
At last she was alone and it was all she could do to make it to her office and sit on the chair.
“What’s wrong with me?” Liv asked her reflection in the window. “This should be easy. I’m a fucking adult, and I’m hiding in my office because I don’t want to see the man I let screw me against his truck, and then made a deal with to make me look good at my ex-fiancé’s wedding.” Putting it like that, she was definitely using Owen—something she was very annoyed at herself for doing. It hadn’t been her intention. The quicker the wedding arrived, the quicker she could come clean and they could get on with their separate lives.
It took her almost an hour to finish up in her office. The tasks probably could have been completed in about twenty minutes, but she was trying to psyche herself up and distracting herself at the same time.
Liv could have picked up the phone and insisted they discuss things with a wide distance between them—it was the smart thing to do—but no one could describe her as being smart, especially not when she let her libido talk her into things. Instead, she decided to take a trip down to the building site where she knew Owen would still be working for another hour or two. Or according to reports she’d been receiving, he would be. Keeping tabs on the newest employee was part of her job. It was only that, with Owen, she was overly eager to find out all the details. He was eager to make a good impression, apparently. “I’m his boss. I can do this,” she quietly chanted as stepped onto the site. It was after six pm and there was ample light left to navigate the uneven ground out front. There was no one around, and she was grateful for that fact. As was her usual routine, she changed into her personal work boots, hi-vis jacket, and safety hat before stepping out of her car. She was nothing if not prepared for all business. Slowly she made her way up the eight flights of stairs, out of breath and glad for the physical pain to take her mind off seeing Owen again.
He was right where she expected to see him. Standing in front of a large make-shift desk, he pored over an oversized set of drawings. Owen glanced up as she stopped in front of him.
Tight, paint splattered jeans hugged his thighs, scruffy, large work boots, and a white t-shirt that hugged his chest. He’d discarded his security hat and jacket on the desk, and she had to admit he looked damned good. Too good. Why was she putting herself through this?
“Hey,” she said as she noticed his gaze slip lower over her body. Her nipples tightened into hard buds.
“Hey yourself.” Long moments of silence stretched out between them. Liv wanted one of the power tools to spring to life and put her out of her misery. No such luck. “I got a message to say you wanted to go over something with me. Is there a problem with the schedule? Or one of the sub-contractors?”
Owen shook his head. He stretched out his arms, almost as if reaching for the high ceiling, and Liv’s gaze dropped to the inch of skin exposed at the top of his jeans. If she was to reach out, she’d be able to trace that line of hair straight down into—
“I wanted to see you because you’ve been dodging me. Why are you keeping your distance, Liv? I thought we were good.” Owen stepped toward her, closing in on her personal space. If ever there was a time she was totally aware of being alone on a half-finished apartment block with the man of her dreams, this was it.
Was there less oxygen in the room, suddenly, or was it her? She gripped the side of the table and prayed she could hold it together and not offer herself to him, right there on the dusty floor.
The chances were pretty low.
5
Owen really did just want to check in with Liv. Make sure they were cool. That things weren’t going to be awkward between them. Now that she stood in front of him, work shirt clinging to her breasts, jeans hugging her hips and highlighting long legs, his mind was racing ahead to update the plan to something new.
“We’re fine. Perfect.” The way she drew her tongue across her bottom lip in a nervous flick sent all the blood rushing from his head and straight to his cock.
What would it take to get a round two of the night in the parking lot? “I’m glad to hear it, because I was thinking… if you want me to be a convincing date for you at your friend’s wedding, we need to know a little more about each other first.”
“I wouldn’t call them friends so much as… an ex and the woman he dumped me for.”
That didn’t sound right. “The woman from the party at the club?”
Liv’s eyes grew wide, and then she gave a dry chuckle. “No. The party was for an actual friend. I know a lot of people getting married.”
He knew how that went. “So, I’m the revenge date for the ex’s big day.”
“Is that a problem?” She frowned.
Even the furrowed lines in her forehead were alluring. What was wrong with him? “Nope. Even more reason we have to make this date convincing.”
She arched perfectly shaped brows and studied him. “What did you have in mind?”
“You know, the standard stuff.” He straightened up and closed the distance between them. Her eyes widened but she didn’t back away. “I already know you don’t have any tattoos in embarrassing places.” He trailed his gaze along her figure before meeting her eyes. “I was thinking things like, what’s your favorite color?”
“Yellow, I guess? You?”
“Pink.”
“It’s all about context. Pink shows up in a lot of amazing places.” He traced a finger along her bottom lip.
She parted her mouth in a silent gasp, and her eyelids fluttered. “Point taken. What else?” Her breathy question sent desire racing along his skin.
“Favorite food?” He stepped behind her. When she tried to spin with him, he rested his hands on her hips to stop her from turning.
“Gelato.”
“Ice cream?”
She shook her head. “It’s not the same. Gelato. You?”
He brushed her hair off the back of her neck, and dragged his nose along the exposed curve. “Chocolate sauce.”
“I don’t think you’re taking this seriously.” She groaned and leaned her weight against him, when he kissed where her neck met her shoulder. “And it was your idea.”
“It’s not so much about the answers, as the intent behind them.” He nudged her shirt aside to rest his hand on her bare waist. “That, and I got distracted.”
“By?”
The hint of her flower shampoo. The way her ass teased him, pressed close enough for him to feel her heat. The tiny sighs and whimpers she made every time he touched someplace new. He nipped her earlobe, and whispered, “The thought of stripping you down, pressing you against the glass, and sliding inside you. Fucking you until you scream.”
She stepped out of his grasp and turned to face him. “I think that’s a bad idea.” Despite the words, a hint of a smile tugged up the corners of her mouth.
“Why?” He could think of half a dozen reasons, starting with she’s your boss and escalating from there, but the way his dick strained against his zipper, the list was hard to focus on.
“Let’s see, you work for me. I’m not a one-night stand kind of girl. You’re my b—” She snapped her jaw shut and her eyes grew wide.
“Your…?”
“Employee.” She spat out the word so quickly it ran together in a single syllable.
“Which is the same thing as me working for you. And this is the second time, so of course this isn’t a one-night stand. That’s a pretty short list.”
She traced her finger along the edge of her collar. Did she know she was doing that, or was it an unconscious thing? He didn’t care. Either way it made him harder. “The glass, as in the balcony window?” she asked.
“That’s the one.” In a single motion, he stripped her shirt over her head, exposing black lace against pale skin.
“Someone might see.”
“It’s dark in here.” He lowered his head and licked along her neck, to her collarbone, and down to the top of one breast. “Everyone else is gone for the day. We’re on the eighth floor. But…” He scraped his teeth over fabric, drawing a moan when he brushed her nipple. “I think you like the idea of being on display. That hint of risk that someone might catch a glimpse.”
He did. There was a thrill in watching, but that danger of getting caught was in a league of its own. The other night, pushing her on the hood of the car, the way her legs wrapped around his waist and her pussy around his cock, while anyone could have walked back into the parking lot…. It was even better that it seemed to do as much for her as it did him.
“You’re making some big assumptions about me,” she teased.
He unsnapped her bra and pushed it to the floor, then drank in the vision before him. Full, round breasts. Hard, swollen nipples. Pink was definitely his favorite color. “I like to think they’re based on keen observation skills.”
He spun her away from him again, and pointed her toward the balcony. Dropping his hands to the waistband of her jeans, he thumbed the button open, and tugged enough to yank open her zipper. He dipped his fingers beneath the elastic of her panties, and parted her folds.
“Fuck, you’re soaked.” He glided along her slit. It would feel so good to thrust inside her. “I’m going to say my assumption was right.”
“Maybe.” Her laugh faded into a moan when he brushed her clit.
He traced circles around the emerging bud. “Wicked. I like it.” He sought out a nipple with his other hand, and pinched the nub. The way she pressed her ass against him, then bucked into his touch, short-circuited his thoughts.
The faster he teased her sex, and the harder he twisted her nipple, the more she ground into his attention. “Come for me, gorgeous.” He murmured against her shoulder. “I need to hear those delicious noises you make.
Her response was a quickening of breath punctuated with soft cries. She bucked against his hand when she climaxed, then jerked away from his touch.
“Fuck.” His voice was gravel and his throat raw. “I need to be inside you.”
6
The worst thing about working with the person you fucked the night before was randomly meeting him at the coffee machine the next morning. It figured today would be one of the days he was in-office
Liv considered bypassing her normal caffeine intake completely when she saw Owen talking to a woman in the tiny kitchenette, but as soon as she saw Shelley the receptionist flirting with him, all bets were off.
“Hey,” she said as she entered the small space. Shelley was playing with her hair, giggling at something Owen was saying. Was it wrong she wanted to pour the iced coffee that was sitting on the countertop right down Shelley's shirt? Maybe it would cool her off. Not that Liv was jealous.
She liked him. Way, way too much. That was the problem. Last night was perfect, even if they had christened the not quite finished suite in the prestigious Hanover Towers. Her cheeks flamed up as she remembered the second time they made love that evening. The balcony was the perfect place and it had been special. They’d both enjoyed the risk of having sex in the open. Again. It was becoming a habit to push their personal limits.
And now he was here, in front of her, and all she wanted to do was jump his bones again—and scratch out the receptionist’s eyes. What was wrong with her?
Owen immediately turned his attention to her and smiled, lazily. His gaze flicked down her body and she was glad she’d worn a summery dress today which showed off her curves.
Liv immediately looked away, concentrating on pulling out a bottled water from the fridge before grabbing a mug and filling from the coffee pot.
“Liv, how are you?” Shelley asked.
She’d always got on well with Shelley, but now she would have done anything to make her go back to her desk. Still, she smiled at the other woman and tried not to bare her teeth.
“Good thanks. Busy.” She was very aware of Owen sipping his coffee and watching her.
“You look tired. Late night?” It was an innocent question, but immediately Liv felt her stomach clench.
She risked a look at Owen over her cup, and she saw he was trying to stop a grin from spreading. Despite her drink, her mouth went dry and her mind blank.
“You’re right, she does look a little worse for wear, Shelley. Someone keeping you up at all hours?”
Liv shot him a death stare, and his grin overtook his face. “I wish,” she said at last, risking a glance at Shelley. The woman was the biggest gossip in the office, but luckily, she seemed completely oblivious to whatever was happening between Owen and herself. “Work is keeping me busy.”
“You need to relax a little more. Stress ages you.” Owen snorted and both Liv and the blonde receptionist glanced his way. He covered by taking a sip of his coffee then deliberately clearing his throat.
“I’ll make sure to take your advice, love.” She said at last to Shelley. The other woman nodded, smiled, then turned to Owen. She touched her hand to his arm and instant rage had Liv seeing red.
“I’ll talk to you later, Owen.” Shelley smiled in a come-hither way, then turned to Liv and gave her a quick smile and wave before she was gone.
Liv was alone in the small room with Owen and all she could think about was showing Shelley—showing everyone—that Owen wasn’t on the market any longer. She stopped tha
t trail of thinking. They were having sex, that was it. Except it didn’t feel like simply a physical connection. She risked a glance up at him, and saw him closely watching her, amusement evident on his face.
“Fancy another lesson in living a stress-free existence? I know the perfect thing to relax you.” Owen’s voice was low and sexy. He stepped closer, putting his mug down on the counter, and reaching past her to grab an apple from the fruit bowl. His spare hand swept along her hip, lighting her senses on fire, too quickly it was gone again. “A repeat performance would be fun.”
Lust pushed through her body at warp speed and she had to grip her coffee mug to stop from reaching out. “You’re a bad man, do you know that?” Her voice was also low enough not to be overheard by passing colleagues.
“I can be very bad.” Owen stepped away from her, hunger apparent in his eyes. Her pulse quickened and wetness pooled between her legs. “I could follow you up to your office...”
Owen let that thought hang, and it encouraged her mind to envision all sorts of relaxing things that could happen while locked together in a room.
“You’re going to get us both fired,” she said.
“Yeah, but wouldn’t it be worth it? Going out with a bang—”
“I need to go.” She walked to the door, listening to Owen chuckle.
“Don’t forget your water.”
Liv turned, her cheeks flaming as she almost marched back to his side and grabbed the bottle he was holding.
“Am I distracting you, Livvy?” He said low, only for her ears.
“Yes. Now go to work, Mr. Griffin. I’m your boss, and I can punish you.”
“I’m very aware of that fact. And so is my dick.”
Liv couldn’t help herself, her gaze dropped to his jeans. There was a definite bulge.
“I need to go,” she repeated. And this time she didn’t stop until she got to her office.
What was wrong with her? She was completely besotted with the man and there was no way this would end well. That didn’t mean she could stop herself. She was in deep.