He toyed with his cup and watched her bite into her pizza. “I’m just as screwed up as everybody else but that doesn’t make me want you less. Every time I close my eyes I see you falling and I just want to grab you…and not let go.”
He wanted to grab her but he still had at least a few brain cells firing. “Do you want me to let you go?”
He looked like the poster boy for stressed-out executives.
His tie was loosened and it appeared he’d run his hand through his hair to comb it. He’d missed a patch of red-gold whiskers along his chin and his eyes were bloodshot.
He was so beautiful she wanted to cry. “Honestly? No. But what’s keeping you up nights, me or the IRS?”
“Thinking about you definitely keeps me awake but this IRS audit has me bugged,” he said, a bitter edge to his voice. “My grandfather wasn’t rich by today’s standards and when he started the Vincent Foundation no one ever questioned his integrity. Now I have major donors questioning mine. They don’t understand that the audit is random.” He cleared his throat and blew out an exasperated breath. “Sorry, probably more information than you wanted to know.”
“I take it your grandfather is a big influence in your life.”
“Was. My parents were killed in a car wreck when I was eight. My grandparents raised me.”
“So this is a bigger deal than just an audit.” She shook her head and just barely kept from groaning. There was no way she was going to be able to stay angry with this man. “Why don’t you take off that tie that’s strangling you and tell me more.”
“There isn’t much more to tell.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel as if you weren’t important to me. That what’s happening between us isn’t important. I’ve driven by late at night a couple of times but your lights were always out. I didn’t know if I’d make it better or worse.” He yanked at his tie. “Christ, I’m just as big a coward as Brian.”
“Who’s Brian?”
“He’s been my best friend since the second grade and he’s Veronica’s husband.”
And she was hitting on you the night you came into the shop. That’s why she was so pissed. “I wouldn’t have been upset if I didn’t think what’s going on between us wasn’t important. If you knew me you’d know just how much I don’t like to get upset. I’m known as Bella the peacemaker in my very large, very loud family. Trust me, I earned the title. Now, tell me what you were like at eighteen.”
He looked surprised but then his shoulders relaxed and the lines around his mouth softened. “You’re kidding.”
“Not even a little bit. I want to know who you are, who you’ve been, everything. I want to know about the person I’m getting involved with and I want you to think about something else right now besides the women who’ve treated you like hell and the IRS. You can tell me while you eat. I won’t hold it against you.”
His tentative smile made him look more vulnerable. “I wish I would have spent the week with you instead of the IRS.”
“Quit stalling.”
He laughed and the lines around his mouth eased. “I guess headstrong, shy and athletic are about as close as I can come to a description.” He arched a dark gold brow. “I’ve always been big. I played football but I didn’t love it enough to want to make a career out of it.”
“What position did you play?”
“Linebacker.”
“So even then you were basically the guy who had to pay attention to everyone and everything?”
His lips twitched. “I never really thought about it that way.”
“That wasn’t so tough, was it? Besides figuring out that you didn’t want to make sports a career, what’s the one thing you wish you’d known at eighteen that you know now?”
He pinned her with a soft, surprised gaze. “That I was going to have to wait twenty years to find you,” he whispered, as if his throat ached as badly as hers. “Because, every time I try to imagine what my life would be like without you in it, I can’t do it. It’s just too damn bleak.”
She knew the feeling. “Do you have a good imagination?”
“I have a great imagination.”
“Then imagine that I want the same thing but I need to ask you to do something for me.”
He nodded. “All you have to do is ask.”
“If you ever decide for whatever reason that what’s happening between us isn’t working, don’t just stop showing up. Say goodbye.” She took a deep breath. “Don’t make me wonder why you didn’t come back.”
Rhys nodded sharply. “I’ll make you the same deal with an addendum. If you’re mad at me, tell me so. Yell if you have to get my attention. Just don’t pretend everything is working until it all falls apart.”
He took out a pen and scribbled on a clean napkin. “This is my cell.” He slipped his phone out of his pocket and flipped it open, pressed a few buttons and handed it to her.
She punched in her number and handed it back to him but he caught her hand. He stood, drawing her around the small table and into his arms. He must have moved the phone because she didn’t feel it when he lifted her onto the counter and stepped between her legs.
“Anyone stupid enough to walk away from you deserves to lose you and I never intend to be that stupid. I’m going to make very sure,” he said, caging her face between his large hands, “that I’m never that stupid.” His breath whispered across her lips and she opened her mouth and urged him inside.
He kissed with his eyes wide open and she couldn’t look away. She pulled his shirt from his pants and slid her hands up over his muscular back. His muscles rippled under her fingertips. Heat and hunger flared as he pressed closer, slid her over his erection. She almost came from the delicious pressure. Wrapping her legs around his hips, she invited more and dragged her nails down his back. The door rattled.
Reality crashed down around her. She tore her mouth from his and glanced over his shoulder. “It’s Arnie’s daughter,” she rasped in his ear while she unwound her legs and shook from the effort of letting him go.
“Damn,” he said, closing his eyes as he straightened up and stuffed his shirt back into his pants.
All she could see was that Meg had her head down and was trying to balance a box against the door as she tried the handle. Bella glanced around to find Rhys buttoning his coat and successfully hiding his erection. He did an exaggerated eye roll as she turned to open the door.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t notice that your closed sign was still up. I brought you…” She trailed off, glancing between Bella and Rhys. Her windburned cheeks got redder and she stammered, “T-the rest of dad’s things.”
Bella smiled and took the box, motioning her to come in. “I was just about to reopen.”
“I’ve interrupted your lunch,” she said and her misery was evident.
“Not at all,” Rhys interjected. “I was just leaving.” He glanced pointedly at Bella and she was afraid the color in her cheeks matched Meg’s. “What do you want for lunch tomorrow?”
“Surprise me.”
* * * * *
The surprise turned out to be that he was buried in work and couldn’t get away. Would she mind sharing lunch over his desk? Bella had never been inside the Vincent Building. It was one of the older buildings in Kansas City, with beautiful marble floors and gleaming dark wood paneling. She took the elevator to the fifth floor and followed Rhys’ directions to his office.
His receptionist was on the phone but Bella must have been expected because she smiled and waved her through the door into Rhys’ office. His pale blue shirtsleeves were rolled up over his muscular forearms and he looked as delicious as the curry smelled.
He came from around his desk, slid his arms around her and kissed her hello. “I was afraid we might have to skip lunch today.” His gaze slid down toward the black high-heeled boots she’d worn with her favorite sweater dress. “I miss the stilettos.”
“The snow’s too deep and they looked a little weird with this shade of purple.”
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“You could just wear the shoes and your coat, or just the shoes,” he whispered before he kissed her again.
“Is that curry I smell?”
“Yeah, hot enough to warm you up.”
“You’ve already done that but I appreciate a man who knows how to take the chill off.”
He leaned down and kissed her again—long and slow. She was definitely warm now. His desk had been cleared and one overstuffed chair had been dragged from across the room. The thick gray carpet still held the indentation but it was the only thing that was out of place.
She settled into the chair before he started unloading the brown paper bag.
“What are you plying me with today?”
“Sweet potato samosas,” he said, opening a box with four fragrant, savory pastries, “chicken curry with mango chutney and for dessert, rice pudding.” He laid the rest on the desk between them.
She glanced around his office. It was plush and comfy in shades of gray, modern but surprisingly not cold.
“What’s that look?”
She blinked. “I just realized that your office bathroom is twice the size of mine and I have a bathtub.”
He spared it a glance and shrugged. “This is just my office, nothing special. I really would have come to the shop but I couldn’t get away and I needed to see you—” He broke off because he’d apparently been distracted by something behind her.
Bella turned around. Veronica Smith–Hathaway stood in the open doorway.
“Your receptionist told me you had a guest,” she said with smile that made Bella’s hair stand on end.
“You remember Bella?” Rhys asked.
“Of course I do.” Another smile, this time directed at Bella. “Did you get your invitation?”
Bella shrugged. “What invitation?”
“Why, to the annual Vincent Donor’s Ball. We honor all our large contributors and since you donated the fedora and it earned the Foundation fifteen thousand dollars, you were included. It is formal though,” she said, smiling at Rhys. “Lots of designer gowns and tuxedos.”
“She’s coming as my guest. There wasn’t any need for a formal invitation.”
Veronica shrugged. “Of course there is. She’s a major player in the evening’s festivities. Fifteen thousand is a sizable contribution.” She looked uncomfortable and a little…fragile. “I won’t keep you. I just wanted to tell Rhys to have a safe trip. I look forward to seeing you again, Bella.”
“That was…awkward,” Rhys said as he closed the door behind Veronica and scooped Bella into his arms before he snuggled them both down into the plush oversized chair.
Bella knew she was gaping and didn’t care. “You gave fifteen thousand dollars for the fedora?”
“I wanted it.”
She shook her head. “But fifteen thousand?”
“Actually, there was a bidding frenzy. I wasn’t the only one impressed with such a daring fashion statement. I outbid Veronica. And before this goes any further, I want you to know that I had every intention of asking you to the Donor’s Ball.”
“I believe you,” she said softly. “If you’re worried that I’m angry about Veronica, don’t be.”
“Trust me. I’m angry enough for both of us. I thought I could manage to get on your good side without an interruption,” he said, sweeping his hand over her leg and under her dress.
His touch was electric and she felt the crackling vibrations sizzle through her. “She’s not important,” she murmured. “Tell me why you need to get on my good side. I only have a good side.” She bit her lip as he palmed her thigh.
“Umm…yeah, I’ve noticed,” he whispered, his fingers brushing the edge of her panties. “Are you wearing silk boxers?” He traced the whorl of her ear with his tongue.
“Satin tap pants…don’t change the subject,” she rasped with barely enough air to get out the words.
“I’m desperate.”
“I think I like you desperate,” she said and her breath hitched while he trailed his fingertips just under the slippery hem that floated around her garter. The man was deliciously seductive. He slid his hands over her stocking and under the garter. Popped it open. His fingers were mere inches from her pussy and she could feel the heat from his big hand stroking the flesh of her inner thigh.
“I think your secretary will notice if we have a nooner right here in the office.”
He smiled and his gaze grew hotter. “It takes her seventeen minutes to run downstairs to pick up her lunch. She gets a sandwich from her boyfriend’s shop around the corner every day. I think he has the art of the quickie down to a science.”
She managed a restrained laugh. “If I were the suspicious type, I’d say you wanted our first encounter to be on your terms.”
“The terms have always been yours. The decision is yours but I wanted to give you three days to think about this,” he said and bent to take her mouth as he separated her pussy with one long finger, toying with her slit until he worked the digit inside inch by slow inch.
“Three…days,” she squeaked and came off his lap, pushing into his hand. He covered her mound, stroking it as he slowly pumped.
“I want to give you something, just for you, because you’re beautiful and loving and it feels like I’ve been waiting forever to have sex with you and there just isn’t time.”
“Come home with me…right now. I have a very large bed…well, large enough. We can play hooky.”
He settled his palm around her mons and kissed her, long and slow, while he worked another finger into her and she tried to think straight. She was trying to hold on to what he said about three days but his kiss turned desperate and deep, his fingers, urgent.
Through her skirt and his pants she felt the ridge of his erection press into her bottom. She twisted, pressing it into the cleft of her ass, wanting him, needing him but he lifted her closer, breaking the contact. He continued thrusting his fingers into her and she flexed her hips, all her muscles tightening down as her orgasm built. She came so hard she had to bite his shoulder to keep from screaming.
“I’m going to have a bruise,” he said and chuckled.
“Come home with me. I can make it better. Trust me,” she mumbled and lifted her head.
His chest heaved with every breath but a smile tipped the corner of his mouth. “I have to be on a plane in a little over an hour. If anyone else could do this, I’d send them in a heartbeat. I’ll be back on Friday and I’m coming to you straight from the airport.”
She stroked his erection through the many layers of clothing between them and dragged her short nails gently up over the tip of his cock. “Are you going to walk around with this until Friday? Because, by my calculation, we have maybe three more minutes.”
He groaned into her neck. “I’m a lot noisier than you are and I’m barely going to make the plane as it is.”
“I love your fingers inside me but I want more. I need to know two things,” she whispered, as her muscles gathered and her blood pooled, low and heavy. “Do you have a condom and did you lock the door?”
“Yes and yes,” he growled as he slid his fingers out of her and stood, still clasping her in his arms. He kissed her all the way into the adjoining bathroom and sat her on the counter before he turned and locked the door.
“Two and a half minutes,” he said, unzipping his pants. He pushed them down and she moaned when his erection sprang free. Thick and roped with heavy veins, it was crowned with a knob of velvety flesh that made her mouth water. The sight of his big hands wrapped around his cock as he positioned the condom made her pussy throb and when he rolled it down, smoothing his hands over the rigid column of warm, hard flesh, moisture seeped from her pussy. The tension in the tiny room was palpable, exciting her even more.
She hiked up her dress until it was around her waist and then his fingers were twisting into her lace panties, pulling them over her hips and thighs. He balanced her legs across his forearms.
“My boots…”
�
��Leave them on.” He groaned and leaned into her, pressing her back on the counter. “This isn’t how I wanted our first time to be.”
“It’s perfect.” She moaned as he plunged inside her without any semblance of finesse. It was raw and primitive and sex had never been so exciting. “Fuck me,” she whispered and sent him into a frenzy of desperate strokes, each one pulling a moan from her.
He fucked like he kissed, with his eyes open, his penetrating gaze spearing her with his frantic, soulful intent, twisting into her as she writhed, chasing after the perfect fevered thrust.
They were all perfect. The sudden electrifying jolt of her orgasm seized her and she gave up all control and let it take her. She moaned but his mouth was there and he swallowed her cry as he followed her down, coming in a series of bucks and jerks.
Panting, she sprawled under him and marveled that at last his eyes were closed. “I think we may have broken the sandwich man’s record.”
He laughed and kissed her while he held her close. As if he never wanted to let her go.
Chapter Five
Rhys had wrapped his scarf around her neck and sent her home in a cab yesterday after explaining his little mercy mission involved placating an angry ninety-year-old patron with a history of extreme generosity who hadn’t been pleased about being questioned by the IRS. His scent lingered on the scarf and she couldn’t resist wearing it draped around her neck. If she closed her eyes she could almost feel his mouth on hers, his arms around her, his cock rocking her into another orgasm that left her wanting more. She’d finally had to take the scarf upstairs so that she could concentrate on work.
She’d run out of jobs around the shop and had resorted once again to reorganizing the storeroom. She nudged the fainting couch out of her way enough times to spur yet another fantasy. One she was glad she’d never tried out.
At one point someone had tried to refinish the curved cherry wood trim and legs. Upon closer inspection they were rather spindly and the faded, threadbare green upholstery leaked stuffing and smelled musty. She was glad she’d never dragged Rhys back here. Besides causing a sneezing fit, the poor little couch would never have handled his solid weight.
Head Over Heels Page 4