Entice

by S. Layne

  “Seems that way.”

  I reach the flowers and pluck out the card. My fingers tremble slightly when I glance at the envelope. My name is scrawled in James’s masculine script and I close my eyes.

  He didn’t even order these online. If it’s a personal note, he went to a florist and ordered them in person.

  I don’t know why that thought brings tears to my eyes.

  “Your husband?”

  My eyes look at Liam and I slide the card onto my desk by my keyboard. I’ll look at it when I’m alone—when I can handle the words James wrote without an audience.

  “I believe so.”

  “So things are good with you, then?”

  I wipe my lips with my fingertips and sigh. Being around Liam, so close to him while he seems visibly upset, is both exhausting and nerve-wracking. “Why are you asking me this?”

  He leans forward and his voice drops to a whisper. “Because I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you all week long. You walk around here in tight skirts that show off the curve of your ass, and I know what it feels like as I grip your hips in my hands, taking you from behind.”

  I inhale a breath through my teeth. “This is inappropriate.”

  “I don’t give a shit,” he states and takes another step closer to me. If anyone were to see us, it would look suspect. Yet I don’t pull away either.

  His hand comes out and rests on my hip and his fingers tighten. “I want you, Laurie. Again and again. I want to hear you scream my name. I want to feel your cunt tighten around my dick when you come.”

  A shiver runs down my spine and he smirks.

  Then I slap his hand away and take a step back. “Not happening.”

  “Because you’re married.”

  “Because I don’t want you anymore.”

  He laughs, low and quiet, but I’m affected by it. “Liar. I can see how you’re affected by me. You want me as much as I want you. I bet if I touched you now, you’d be ready for me.”

  He wouldn’t be wrong. But I roll my shoulders back, stare him straight in the eyes, and shake my head. “Stop it.”

  He laughs again, but he listens. When he takes a step away from me, his fingertip trails down the skin on my arm and his amused rumble tells me he sees the bumps that ignite, following the trail of his touch.

  I close my eyes as he walks away into his office. As he sits down at his desk, from the corner of my eye I catch his eyes on me, boring into me when I do the same and sit down.

  Inhaling a long, shaky breath, I exhale and force myself to pick up the card from James.

  One week without you is one week too many.

  Please reconsider this. Forgive me.

  I love you. James.

  And maybe I could…

  If I wasn’t still thinking about Liam.

  “Is there anything else you need from me before I leave?”

  The office is once again deserted. I should have left an hour ago, but I’ve stayed behind, letting everyone else leave first.

  I’m a fool. And yet I can’t deny that my staying is intentional.

  Liam looks up from his computer screen and arches a brow.

  I roll my eyes at the unintentional innuendo in my question.

  “Yes,” he says simply and pushes back his chair. “I do need something, actually.”

  His desk is glass and hides nothing. I watch him roll back further in his chair and his knees separate.

  An invitation.

  “Work-related?” I clarify.

  He waves me forward, but I stay in the doorway until he raises a file next to his laptop.

  “Yes. I have a question for you.”

  He looks at me like he’s daring me to call him a liar.

  I give him the benefit of the doubt and enter his office. As soon as I do, I look behind me. All the oxygen has been sucked out of the room, making it difficult to breathe.

  “Okay,” I say when I turn back to him and start toward his desk. “What do you need?”

  He arches the same brow again and waves the file.

  I shake my head.

  “Come here.” He pats the file beside him. Instead of walking next to him, I stop in front of the desk.

  “Can I see it?” I lift out my hand toward him, but he shakes his head.

  “Come look at it over here.”

  I roll my eyes. The man is exasperating.

  Yet my body is already warm, my core primed. My panties go damp at the thought of being so close to him, able to touch him.

  “Fine,” I huff and am rewarded with a glittering smile I feel all the way down to my toes.

  In my head, I heard the words “Game. Set. Match,” and know that he’s won.

  I haven’t even put up a fight.

  “Okay,” I tell him when I stand next to him at the desk. “What is it you need?”

  Liam opens the file folder I recognize as the first design for the Cell product. I frown, not understanding why he’s even looking at it.

  We redid it when we realized even then it was too big. It would be too bulky for people to carry around in their pockets if they needed the device on them at all times.

  I only see his hands and fingers as he spreads out the design diagram. They’re strong and veins poke out on the backs of his hands.

  I swallow, knowing how they feel when they’re on me. He caresses the paperwork in front of him as if his hands are sliding down my skin, and it only takes that one moment for me to be completely turned on.

  I want him again. All the dreams have weakened my resolve.

  Being so close to him—being able to smell his cologne and hear him breathe—has finished me.

  He doesn’t look at me, just flips through the designs until he comes to the one he must want because he leans back in his chair and points.

  “There.”

  I frown and look at him. He still looks as unwrinkled as he did the moment he arrived in his standard three-piece suit. The only difference is that his coat is gone, leaving a vest and tie over his stark white shirt. His hands are loosely clasped together in his lap and I see the hint of his silver watch.

  The look is sexy. Commanding and powerful.

  His lips pull into a slight smirk when he catches my eyes drop to his lap.

  “The first design?” I shake my head, not understanding his concern.

  He points to the paperwork. “Take a look.”

  I shift my eyes to the paperwork on his desk and slide it toward me. He doesn’t say anything or move when I lean over.

  “I don’t understand.”

  He leans forward, his hand brushing against mine, and he points again to the mobile device.

  “The current design has a triphasic waveform, but I’m wondering why. The original only had a biphasic. Triphasic waveforms haven’t shown in studies to be more effective at restarting the heart,” he says, referring to the type of energy waves that are sent through padded wires on the device.

  I turn my head and face him to explain. “Yes, we know. But with the triple wave of energy, it gives an extra pulse that biphasic can’t deliver, and we can administer that energy in lower doses, basically giving an extra pump to heart. We also believe it shows the forward-thinking of ParaMed and our ability to come up with innovative technology.”

  “It’s too complex,” he states, and I bristle.

  I stand up, prop my hip on his desk, and cross my arms.

  He continues. “The design itself is innovative. Using technology that isn’t proven effective is potentially dangerous.”

  “It’s not proven to be ineffective, either. Twenty years ago they were only using one wave of energy and now it’s two. Who’s to say triphasic won’t become the next standard procedure in all defibrillators?”

  “It’s too risky and too costly. We can redesign it with biphasic waveforms and insert a sim card for EMTs to be able to eject. They pull it up in an app and can have instant access to the amount of energy the patient’s already been given to further know how
to treat.”

  It’s an amazing idea.

  It also means a complete overhaul.

  “You’re talking about setting back the rollout months for something like that.”

  He shrugs and points back to the original design in front of him. His eyes light up and I can’t help but refocus on the paperwork while I listen to Liam explain what he wants to do, and how the original design leaves the space for it.

  It’s completely doable.

  “Wow,” I tell him, impressed. “It might work. Have you talked to design?”

  He shakes his head, running one hand through his hair before it falls to his lap. “No. I wanted to speak to you first.”

  I jerk my head back in surprise. “Why?”

  His lips curve into a smile. I freeze when his hand raises and he begins trailing his fingertip in small circles at the back of my knee.

  “Because you love this.” He means his touch more than the product.

  I can’t disagree on either account. “I do.”

  My head falls forward as he continues circling his finger along my skin.

  “Liam,” I whisper.

  “There it is,” he murmurs and leans in closer to me. His finger begins lightly making a trail up the back of my thigh. “I’ve beaten off this week to the thought of my name leaving those lips. Was beginning to think I wouldn’t hear it again.”

  My hair creates a curtain, preventing him from seeing my blush.

  A hot ache grows in my throat. “That’s crude.”

  “It’s also true.” His finger trails higher, and he swipes it back and forth along the bottom of my ass cheeks. “I don’t screw women more than once, and I can’t stop thinking about you.”

  “I’m not sure if that’s a good thing.”

  His low laugh courses through my veins. “It’s not. Not for me. And seeing you so close this week has been driving me mad. Tell me, Laurie,” he says, and his finger trails up the fabric of my thong. “Have you thought of me?”

  Often. Instead, I lie. “No.”

  “Your husband…has he kept you happy then?” His voice tightens and I recognize the jealous tinge in his tone. It’s the same way I’ve felt when I’ve seen him with other women—of realizing he’s not mine.

  He pushes my thong to the side and groans when he feels my slick center.

  My heart hammers inside my chest and I answer without thinking. “He moved out.”

  With another swipe of his finger, my nipples harden into pebbles.

  “I don’t do relationships.”

  I take the offer for sex as it’s coupled with the warning. I don’t need that anyway.

  Instinctively, my feet spread further apart and I revel in his deep voice that sends pleasure straight to the place where his fingers are teasing me. He lightly grazes over my clit and my head drops forward.

  “Liam.”

  “You want something?” His fingers pull away and his hand falls down.

  I gasp, shame and lust fighting for first place in my mind.

  He’s touched me and teased me and removed it all the second I submitted.

  I’m about to stand up and leave with a thread of my self-respect when both of his palms rest on the backs of my thighs.

  “Yes,” I whisper, my voice throaty and raspy.

  His hands slide up, pushing my skirt up to my waist. “Anyone could see us.”

  I’m bent over his desk in his office and he’s behind me. I should be embarrassed. Instead, I want more. “I don’t care.”

  “I figured you wouldn’t, wild one.” He calls me by his pet name at the same time his fingers wrap around the edges of my thong. Then it’s gone, along with my dignity, and I stand at his desk, legs spread, and look down to watch his fingers push against the most sensitive part of my body. “You like this.”

  “I do.”

  His fingers rub and press against me, teasing me, and I let loose a groan of approval. His other hand massages my rear end, warming it in his large palm. His finger drags down the crease between and pauses when he hits my forbidden place.

  “I never took your ass,” he mutters, and my hands curve to grip the edges of his desk.

  “That’s crude.”

  “It’s hot,” he clips. “And you’re always so tight. How much tighter would your ass be when I sink into it? God, I’m hard just thinking about it.”

  “It will never happen,” I grit out, my teeth hurting because it’s gross and disgusting.

  And yet…

  “Look at you, dripping wet for me.”

  “God,” I moan. My head drops and my stance widens, making room for him.

  His chuckle makes him an asshole.

  One I can’t say no to. Not when he’s touching me.

  He doesn’t waste time sliding inside me. He’s right, I’m drenched. My sex pulses around his finger—just the one—as it slides in and out, teasing me.

  “You said to forget it happened.” I remind him.

  “I was a liar for thinking I could.”

  My head snaps and I look at him over my shoulder. Shock plasters my features at his brutal honesty.

  I blink when I catch his searing gaze as he presses a second finger inside me. His fingers move inside me and my body begins to yearn for the release I know is coming.

  “What are you doing then?” I ask. I’m still unsure. I might want Liam, but this…the way he holds me captive with just a touch, the way he’s touching me…it’s too much.

  His eyes leave mine and he watches himself push inside of me. “I thought I’d make you come. And then I’m taking you to my place, where I’m going to do it again.”

  I shake my head, but I don’t answer.

  Cotton balls are stuck in my throat and my thighs begin to tremble.

  “I can’t,” I say, but I don’t mean it. Not anymore.

  “You can and you will.”

  My head falls and my back arches. Everything he’s doing to me feels so good. His thumb presses against my backside and his fingers inside me twist until he rubs against the rippled nerves.

  “Let me have this, Laurie.”

  Oh God. As if I could deny him. I’m too close to the ecstasy that’s climbing.

  And then it hits.

  My hands grip the edge of the desk until my knuckles ache. I bite down on my lip to stifle my cry but my entire body pulses and shakes as my orgasm hits and rolls through me.

  His fingers continue their ministrations, slowing while I come down.

  My heart hammers against my chest and I hear my pulse in my ears.

  It’s intense and takes me several moments to calm down.

  When I do, I lift my head to see Liam pull his fingers slowly from me and stick them in his mouth. He keeps his eyes on mine as he sucks and licks the taste of me from them.

  I exhale a breath and push off his desk, but he swivels in his chair, blocking me in.

  “Come home with me,” he says, and his hands reach out to my hips. With a tender brush of his hands down my hips, he lowers my skirt and then holds onto me.

  I stand between his thighs, fight-or-flight response kicking me as the reality of what I’ve just done falls on me like a heavy curtain.

  I’ve just allowed my boss to finger-fuck me in his office, where anyone can see.

  It’s disgraceful and so not me.

  I shake my head, but he pulls me forward.

  Startled, I fall onto his lap and one of his hands cups my cheek.

  “Laurie,” he croons softly. “Come home with me.”

  It’s no longer a request I can deny.

  As dangerous as this is, I want it. I’m tired of fighting it.

  And I’m no longer cheating on James. My meeting with the divorce attorney is already scheduled.

  I lick my dry lips. “Okay.”

  I follow Liam to his house. His Land Rover is sleek and silver and I’m already wanting more of him by the time we pull into his condo’s parking garage. He drives like he screws—fast and smooth—and as I fol
low him in my own car I imagine his hands wrapped around the steering wheel, his fist gripping the shifter, and I want those hands back on me.

  The few minutes in his office weren’t enough.

  I don’t know where I expected him to live, but it wasn’t in one of the fanciest buildings outside Grand Rapids.

  “This is impressive,” I say when I exit my car in the parking garage. He waved me into a visitor’s spot before he maneuvered his SUV into one of his own.

  Liam guides me from my car with a hand on my lower back. “It’s a place to sleep.”

  I frown at the thought—that this isn’t his home—but I don’t say anything until we’re in the elevator.

  We stand facing the mirrored doors. Next to me, Liam still has one hand on my lower back and his other hand is in his pants pocket. He looks so relaxed in his posture, but by the tensing of his fingers against my back and the smirk on his lips, I know he’s not.

  I’m too afraid to turn and face him, remembering the last time he had me in an elevator.

  Blush warms my cheeks and I glance at the floor. “How long have you lived here?”

  He’s silent, and I pull my eyes up to his, meeting his gaze in the reflection. A tightness rings his eyes. “About a week.”

  I frown and face him, knocking his hand off my back at the same time.

  Realization begins to dawn and I think back to the meeting with Anne, and then the meeting with our employees on his first day.

  My eyebrows knit together. “You moved here for the job. Why did you leave Parkorp?”

  Parkorp. Parker Corp. My lips part as I realize the play on words. He left a company that has his own name to come to ParaMed. All because of a new product? It doesn’t make sense.

  He sees my confusion and says nothing. His face is completely blank.

  “Why would you do that?” I take another step back until I hit the wall of the elevator.

  “My business is private.” One of his hands runs through his hair and a muscle in his jaw jumps.

  “But…you left.”

  “My family’s company. I know.” He takes a step toward me, his shoulders roll back, and his eyes narrow. He’s as intimidating as he is strong and sexy.