Playing With Trouble (Desire Bay)

by Joya Ryan

  “Yes,” she said. “I’m eager to see this thoroughness you boast about.”

  “Be careful what you wish for,” he said and surged his hips forward, burying himself inside her in one long thrust. He was so powerful that she couldn’t support herself anymore.

  He withdrew and surged back even harder. Deeper.

  She moaned his name and gave in to all his strength.

  She lay back on the desk, knocking over the phone and papers and other random things. She didn’t care.

  “God, you’re so sexy,” he growled and with one hand flicked the few buttons on her shirt open and tugged her bra down, wedging it beneath her breasts.

  The cold air hit her chest, and her nipples beaded harder. But Jacob’s mouth was right there to bring the heat. He leaned over her and sucked one, then the other. Circling the entire peak of her breast before gently biting and sucking it again.

  She spread her arms out and arched into his mouth. But right as she was going crazy for him, he pulled back and rose to stand tall again.

  “Wait, where are you going?” she asked.

  “I’m still right here,” he said and stirred himself inside her. His hip bones knocking against her inner thighs and the feel of him hitting that sensitive spot inside made a second orgasm kick into gear.

  “I’m just being thorough, after all. I see you like this . . .” He stirred and stirred. His big hands clamped around her waist, thumbs digging into her pelvis, and he moved her body with his. Staying so deep, she felt him everywhere. “You like deep and slow, don’t you?”

  She nodded, because words escaped her. She couldn’t form any even if she wanted to. All she could do was throw her hips out, trying to take more, but Jacob held her tight. Moving her how he wanted to. Slow, steady, thorough. But he seemed to pick up on her need and the orgasm boiling in her veins. Her sheath tensed once . . . then again.

  God, she was so close!

  He hit her with a victorious smile. “I feel you just fine. I know you’re close,” he said, as if reading her mind.

  He lifted her hips, causing her to arch even farther so that only her ass and her shoulders were on the desk. It was enough for him to hit that spot inside once more and send her into a slow, steady, consuming release that burned her up from the inside out.

  “Jacob . . . oh my God. It feels so . . .”

  “Different?” he said, like he knew what he was doing. Because he did. She could feel the confidence in every move he made. The first orgasm was with his mouth, raw and fast and wild. This was only with him inside her, and it was smooth and fluid and intense. She’d never felt anything like it. Never been taken like this before.

  Long, heavy breaths and she was coming down from the pleasure, but Jacob didn’t seem to be through with her.

  “You’re not done yet,” he said with a wicked smile. His big hands were still gripping her hips, keeping her arched and open to him. “If you don’t want people to come in here, I suggest you prepare yourself to tamp down your screams.”

  Before she could ask what he meant, he pulled all the way out of her and hammered back inside.

  “Oh!” she gasped.

  He did it again and again. Pulling her whole body onto his as he fucked her hard and fast and deep. Over and over, shoving himself inside her and igniting sparks of pleasure that never died down.

  Her breasts bounced, each movement causing them to spring farther and farther out of her bra, and the sounds of Jacob’s hips slapping against her thighs rang through the shop, and the desk screeched and whined as he pounded her again and again.

  She was whispering his name—wait . . . she was screaming it. Begging for more. Harder. She clawed at the desk beneath her, feeling like an animal and needing everything he had. Wanting him to slake it on her. Wanting to feel the heat and the anger and the passion.

  She couldn’t hold back. She didn’t even have a warning for this orgasm. It hit her like a flash flood and swept her away with shocking force. She jolted so hard, she about came off the desk.

  “That’s it, baby,” he said around gritted teeth. “I feel you squeezing me. You’re going to make me come.”

  Just when she felt like she couldn’t handle any more, Jacob shot impossibly hard and even larger inside her, spurring her orgasm into another dimension of amazing. She felt him come, strong and intense, just like he was.

  He heaved over her, hanging his head for a moment to take in extra air. Her body was limp, spent, and so damn satisfied she didn’t think she could walk.

  Jacob pulled out of her, took care of the condom, and fastened his pants. He helped her up and pulled her skirt back into place as she fixed her bra and shirt.

  Her legs were wobbly, so she had to lean against the desk to steady herself.

  When she got the last button fastened, she looked at Jacob Lock.

  And what a sight it was. Rumpled hair that her fingers had just been in and a lazy, happy smile took up his whole face.

  “I guess it’s true what they say,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “Stopping to smell the roses really can brighten your outlook on the day.”

  Laura hit him with a glare, but it didn’t hold any heat. Mostly because Jake knew exactly what real heat from the woman felt like now. Holy hell, he’d never come so hard in his life.

  He’d wanted to make her beg. Show her how thorough he could be. And he had. Something he gave himself a mental high five for, because if it meant he’d get her to give in to him again, he’d take it.

  She’d screamed—screamed—his name. Clawed at him and begged him. Those memories alone were going to keep him up all night for the foreseeable future. He wanted to prove a point, but he also wanted to learn her, in the only way she’d let him. Through sex.

  “Why do you look so smug?” she asked.

  He glanced at the mess of office supplies on the floor and the sexily disheveled hair she was rocking, and his chest puffed with pride.

  “Just having a good day getting to know my coworker.”

  She glared at him again, and he couldn’t help but kiss her quick as she rolled her eyes.

  “We’re not friendly. This was . . .”

  “Thorough,” he said. “We’re business partners, you know. Pays to know the other’s strengths and weaknesses. Likes and dislikes. For example, now I know you have a weakness for my mouth on you. And you like it both hard and slow.”

  “First off,” she said, “we’re not partners. We’re stuck in this together for the moment.”

  “Oh, baby, I love it when you talk all logistically to me,” he said sarcastically. “Especially since I just had you begging for me.”

  She moved past his words quickly. “Second,” she said, “you have a weakness, too, and I think it’s me.”

  He frowned. “I do not. It is not. And I’d love to tell you how much I don’t have a weakness for you over dinner.”

  Great, now he sounded like a twelve-year-old. But the woman had him spinning. Making not-so-smart decisions and making him think of her in a way that wasn’t good. Okay, it was good in that when he did think of her she was sprawled out in his bed, and all that hair she kept tied up was down and covering his chest—

  Stop!

  Not good.

  She just smiled and glanced at the clock. “No dating. And thank you for your thoroughness, but I thought you were heading to the warehouse.”

  He growled low. She was trying to push his buttons with this whole owner-employee thing, and it was working.

  “Enjoy your perch now, because sooner or later a strong breeze is going to blow you right onto that world-class ass of yours.”

  “I don’t know about that,” she said confidently. “This place is already looking better and gaining business.”

  “Well, whatever you need to do. Spend your money, get your flowers, but don’t think this game of sexy boss versus man slave will last.”

  “Oh, I think you like being my man slave,” she whispered low. “And Baughman Home Goods�
� money is my money, and I’ll spend it how I see fit to enhance the business.”

  That made Jake pause. “Wait, you took from the business account for all this?”

  She nodded. “Yes. These are business expenses.”

  “Laura, you can’t do that.”

  “I can. My name is on the account.”

  “But you just got here. You know nothing about the books or what money is earmarked for, or the accounting. We can’t write checks from the same till with different goals.”

  “And what checks are you writing, Jacob?”

  His chest stopped. He didn’t know where to begin with that.

  “Everything!” he said. “This is a business, and money comes in and goes out, and now that you’ve taken from it, I have to get everything recalculated. You’re leveraging the warehouse with every dime you spend.”

  “I’m tired of you thinking of this as separate. The shop is the warehouse, too. It’s all connected.”

  This “thirty days waiting to see who would run Baughman” situation wasn’t working.

  “This is serious, Laura. You want the shop and warehouse to be together? Then act like it. The warehouse makes real money and employs real people. With families. I’m trying to run a business, pay employees, and keep inventory,” he said and looked around. The amount of foliage that was now in the shop was extensive. She’d likely had it shipped overnight. And the new office fixtures? “How much did this cost, Laura?”

  “There’s plenty in the account—”

  “How much?” he asked again.

  “Five thousand.”

  Jake ran a hand through his hair. That was more than one of his guys’ salary for the month. And coming up on a slow winter season, now was not the time to be spending five grand.

  Yeah, Baughman Home Goods was well above water, but that’s because he and Walt had built it up over a period of years. The steady build and steady income. He wasn’t in the business of frivolous spending. Walt had taught Jake that he had to stretch the money he had, always keep reserves, and when a surplus came in, expect to have that last through the slow months. It wasn’t just five grand—it was the fact that Laura didn’t know any of this, yet she had the power to spend.

  “The money needs to be back by the end of the week,” he said.

  “That won’t happen,” she countered, but her voice was a little softer. “But I already have a client lined up and I’ll turn a profit on this event I’m doing. And I have extra flowers for the daily customers, and hopefully another reorder will come in and I won’t have to scramble for inventory. I have a marketing plan, and I’m applying for Cal’s subdivision project, too. It’ll be fine.”

  “You’re talking about risk and maybes.”

  “Sometime you have to risk to get the reward or you’ll never get ahead. You’ll tread water the rest of your life,” Laura said.

  Jake’s chest tightened. He knew that feeling. Treading. He was good at it. But damn, his legs were getting tired with boredom. Still, he was responsible. He shook his head. “How much of a profit are you going to make on this first client?”

  She glanced at the ground, not saying anything.

  So he asked again. “Laura?”

  “I gave Hannah the friends-and-family discount, because she only has so much money to work with and this is about building a reputation. It’ll be more money in the long run, when her boss comes back to me for all their floral needs. Not to mention, the exposure at this party is great for business.”

  “Laura,” he said, more deadpan. “What’s the profit margin?”

  “Forty-three dollars.”

  Jesus fucking Christ. “I can see that business degree is paying off.”

  “I have a degree in marketing, and it is paying off. I haven’t been here that long and—”

  “Are messing with the bank account,” he said.

  “I have a customer!”

  The woman was infuriating. “This is your father’s business. His legacy.”

  “I know that,” she snapped. “But it’s also my mother’s flower shop and her memory.”

  And something in her eyes made him believe her. She was going about this ass backward, if you asked him, but she seemed genuinely aware that this business was Walt’s, even though Jake never thought of her mother. About what came before him. And at least that was something. She was aware. He still had to think this through. They were fighting each other when all he wanted to do was be on her team. But the reality was, he couldn’t be on her team. Because he was Team Warehouse and she was all or nothing.

  “Well,” Jake said and stepped around her, “like you said, I’m late for work.” He walked out and toward the thing he’d built with Walt. The one place he could feel normal. The warehouse.

  Chapter Nine

  Laura had never thought she’d be a grown-ass woman pulling a wagon down Main Street of her hometown, but here she was, doing just that. The wagon had six medium flower arrangements in it that she was gifting local businesses today. She had the inventory, and sure, it was a couple hundred dollars’ worth of flowers, but she needed the exposure and to gain a customer base.

  Got to spend money to make money.

  And after her fight with Jacob yesterday, she had to get more customers and fast. She was certain her idea was a sure thing. This town thrived on local business. Once everyone saw her mother’s shop booming with flowers again, she’d have a line out the door.

  She took a deep breath and continued her trek. The cobblestone sidewalk made the wagon wheels bump a bit, and she had to go slow so the flowers didn’t jostle too much. Between the scraping of her stilettos and the squeaky wagon, she didn’t exactly boast confidence. But as she reached Mr. Gaffe’s taffy shop, she straightened her shoulders, parked her wagon near the entrance, grabbed an arrangement, and headed in.

  “Good morning, Mr. Gaffe,” she said and walked to the back counter. Both sides of the store were lined with candy. Each wall had a large display of built-in shelves that housed rows and rows of jars, all filled with different types of chocolates and sweets. But Laura’s favorite was the big boat in the middle of the store—its simple wooden body had been hollowed out and rebuilt to hold bins of assorted homemade saltwater taffy.

  “Little Laura Baughman, I was wondering when you and your sticky fingers were going to come see me,” Mr. Gaffe said as she walked toward him. “That there is fresh butter taffy . . .” He motioned at the boat, then winked and closed his eyes. Laura took a single piece and popped it into her mouth. Butter taffy was her favorite, and ever since she was kid, she’d come in and Mr. Gaffe would pretend he didn’t see her take a single piece every time.

  “God, I’ve missed this place. And this taffy,” she said, finishing the wonderful bite of smooth, buttery deliciousness.

  “Well, we’ve missed you. Business dropped thirty percent after you left town,” he teased. Sure, Laura had spent most of her money in the candy store, but she couldn’t help it. Mr. Gaffe wore his usual pressed, all-white uniform, red bow tie, and matching paper boat hat. He looked like he’d stepped right out of 1955.

  “Well, fear not, I’m back now and fully intend on spending a paycheck in here.” That was, as soon as she actually had a paycheck.

  “Happy to hear it. That’s a lovely vase,” he said, looking at the flowers. She set them gently on the counter near the register before him.

  “Thank you. I’m running Baughman’s floral shop, and I wanted to bring you a free arrangement.”

  “How kind,” he said. He looked at the flowers and grabbed the vase, turned, and set it on the back counter, where the employees set their purses out of sight of customers. Which made her heart fall a little.

  “I was hoping you could maybe mention where you got them if anyone asks?” Laura said. “I’m trying to grow my customer base. Let everyone know Baughman is back to selling flowers again.”

  “Of course,” Gaffe said. But Laura felt like the importance of displaying the flowers where people could
see them was lost on him.

  “Maybe putting them by the register?” she asked.

  “They smell lovely, child, but with the candy in here, I don’t want to overwhelm the place with smell.”

  “Oh, right.” Laura hadn’t thought of that.

  “I’ll tell everyone, though,” Gaffe said and smiled. Laura thanked him and left. Grabbing her wagon, she had five more stops to make on Main Street before she had to get back to the shop and load up the centerpieces for the party. At least the crew was at Baughman today and could help her.

  Jacob wasn’t an idiot. Okay, maybe he was, but only when it came to mouthy blondes from California. Because he was stupidly thinking about her for the millionth time that week.

  He didn’t know if she was avoiding him since their little sex session fight in the office—excuse me, floral shop—but he could bet she was. And he was kind of avoiding her, too.

  But she’d been out of the shop more. Just today he’d caught a glimpse of her at Ron’s Java Pit on the corner, handing him flowers. She was trying.

  And he was, too. Trying to keep Baughman from losing any more money. His regular deliveries and working extra to prepare for the coming winter months were keeping his days long. Cal had called, and he’d sent it to voice mail. The man had to pick a foreman and supplier soon, and once he did and stopped holding out for Jake, he could finally stop avoiding him, too.

  As always, Jake’s mind turned to Laura. The Laura he could taste and touch but not date. She’d already lasted longer than he’d thought. Granted, when things started to get tough, she might still run. He was starting to really think she might stay. But things were about to get real tough. She kept wanting to lump the warehouse and shop together. She had no idea what came with that. She wanted a taste of what running the shop was like? Spending the shop’s money? She needed to start seeing the entire shop, including the warehouse. Not just her magical oasis of snapdragons and daisies. Jake had no way to show that to her. It was easier said than done, and his head hurt trying to keep up with that woman and her ambition.