by Shayla Black
Chapter One
“Lauren?”
His voice haunted her… So deep it vibrated inside her, heating her libido up faster than anything requiring batteries. Low and controlled, like he was murmuring to a lover, making sure she knew everything he planned to do to her body. She could hear him now in her head.
I’m going to strip you down to your skin, sugar, and kiss you until you can’t remember taking a breath you don’t share with me. Then I’m going to test just how wet you are. With my tongue. Before I spend the night inside you, making you scream my name…
“Lauren?”
Oh, the man could make her wet with a simple hello. His killer voice had a hint of gruffness that suggested he was coming off an all-nighter of sweaty, amazing sex.
Then again, maybe he was…with one of the endless string of twenty-something Barbie dolls he dated.
“Lauren?”
She blinked, coming back to his cluttered office and her hour-old coffee. The recurring fantasies of Noah Reeves had to stop. She wasn’t his type—at all. At thirty-six, Lauren had given up on Miss Clairol and let her faux golden streaks turn a natural honey. Her infrequent trips to the gym probably weren’t enough to keep her ass from spreading.
She sighed. Somehow, in the last ten years, she felt as if she’d become Barbie’s frumpy Aunt Gertrude.
Men like Noah didn’t desire Gertrude. She needed a serious reality check if she thought for an instant that he’d seen her as anything but an employee for the past year. To him, she was just a staff manager for the growing chain of upscale steakhouses he owned in Dallas with four other men.
And his old buddy’s ex-wife.
Too bad she was having a damn hard time thinking of him as anything other than a fantasy.
She glanced again at Noah. One little peek couldn’t hurt, right?
Big mistake. Sin on two legs. Calendar hunky with spiked dark hair, eyes somewhere between blue and gray, ruthlessly carved cheekbones, and shoulders so wide they induced drool. The whispered rumors about him did nothing to cool her down. She’d heard the man was a serious powerhouse in bed—big, built, and not afraid to use every inch God gave him. Dominant. Noah was seriously hot.
Once. Just once, she’d like to know what it was like to get down and dirty with a man like him. Wine-drenched fantasies of Noah ordering her to the bed, demanding she spread her legs, then becoming master of all he surveyed… Lauren could get off to that vision in about three minutes. She’d timed it.
And if she didn’t stop mooning over her boss and start focusing on her job, she was going to be unemployed.
“I asked if you have the site visit reports.” He frowned, concern softening his gaze. “Are you okay?”
“Perfectly fine.” As long as she kept the heavy breathing to a minimum, anyway.
“You sure? You look awfully flushed.”
Damn, why wouldn’t the earth open up and swallow her whole? She’d been imagining him naked and aroused and ready to claim her. She’d even worn her sexiest short skirt and a sheer blouse that showed a hint of cleavage. His reaction? He’d spent most of the day looking elsewhere. And now, he was thinking about a report she’d generated yesterday.
Why had she thought it was a good idea to test Noah’s reactions to her charms? Again?
A few weeks ago, she’d kidded herself that maybe she’d been too subtle in trying to get his attention. Her attempt had gone largely unnoticed, as he’d had off-site meetings most of that day. The fifteen minutes she had seen him, of course, hadn’t been enough time for him to notice her. But today, closeted in his office, just the two of them, she wore a damn near see-through blouse and total fuck-me shoes, and he was still determined to look anywhere but at her. Lauren sighed. Time to face reality. All signs pointed to Noah being immune to her.
“Sorry,” she murmured, mentally slapping herself. “I’m not feeling very well.”
“You need to lie down for a minute?”
Lauren held in a groan. She’d love to ask if he’d mind lying down with her and helping her out with the cobwebs surely lining her vagina since she’d been divorced and without for two years…but she just wasn’t up for the humiliation of his polite refusal.
And it would be oh-so-polite. Noah was not just yummy but nice. The total package, in fact. Looks, brains, kindness, with an occasional shy-boy sparkle in his eyes she’d always liked.
The concern on his face was so genuine—a furrow of brow, a sharp assessment of those wintery blue eyes. He reached out to cup her shoulder, then apparently changed his mind.
The man couldn’t even bring himself to touch her? Ugh, humiliating!
She shook her head. “I’m fine. I have copies of the site reports on my desk. I can run and get them…”
Noah raised a tanned forearm, visible under the rolled-up cuff of his dress shirt, and checked his watch. “I didn’t realize it was so late. What do you say we break for lunch?”
We? Lauren perked up. Was he asking her out to lunch? “I know a great little place a few miles from here. Awesome sandwiches. I can drive.”
Noah hesitated, and Lauren nearly cringed at his considering expression. Lord, he hadn’t been asking her out. When would she get a clue? He’d merely been suggesting they needed a break from work.
“I was just thinking that we could bring some of our work with us and keep talking, but we can reconvene at two, if you’d rather.” She shrugged with affected nonchalance.
And hoped to hell he bought her indifferent routine.
“Meeting back here at two works for me, actually. I have…an errand to run.”
Hmm. She’d bet his “errand” was named Misty, a bombshell in her mid-twenties he’d started dating a few months ago. Misty was, of all things, a professional cheerleader. It was all Lauren could do not to snort. Professional cheerleader. Yeah, no doubt Noah was going to spend his lunch hour shaking her pom-poms.
“You’ll be okay alone?” he asked gently.
Sure. She’d been alone for the last two years—longer, really. Tim, her ex, hadn’t been with her for the last five years of their marriage. Noah, his old college pal and her current boss, wasn’t likely to volunteer to fill the void. First, men had that “buddy” line they didn’t cross. Sisters and wives were off limits. She was learning the hard way that rule apparently applied to ex-wives, too. Second, even if he had been interested, she wasn’t in the market for a relationship. Happily ever after just wasn’t in the cards for her, and she couldn’t endure the pain and humiliation of a breakup again. A tidy little fling would be just fine, thank you very much. Except Noah wasn’t cooperating.
Probably just as well. Noah was the kind of man she could seriously fall for—even if she didn’t mean to. And he was all about lovin’ ‘em and leavin’ ‘em. She didn’t want to be left. Been there, done that. Hell, she’d made the T-shirt.
Noah would definitely break her heart if she let him.
“Fine. I have some phone calls to return and…stuff to do. I’ll see you back here in an hour.”
Before he could say another word, Lauren rose, tugged on her embarrassingly short skirt, and hustled out of his office.
Back at her desk, she took a deep breath and squeezed her thighs together. So much for mere friendship. Being beside Noah for the better part of four hours had made her achy and wet, despite the fact they’d discussed nothing more exciting than ongoing construction and possible new restaurant sites. If the man ever talked dirty to her, she’d probably flood her panties. And have an orgasm from his voice alone. The fantasies she’d been spinning of a naked Noah hadn’t helped. A glance down proved her nipples stood straight out, in full salute. He couldn’t have missed them.
Lauren sighed. No, he’d noticed. She’d seen him
glance in her direction once or twice. But he’d looked away quickly. They hadn’t mattered. She didn’t matter sexually, not to him.
Just her luck.
Lauren had no one to blame but herself. She’d taken an interest in a man who simply didn’t want her. Men who asked her out, like the new guy in accounting, Gary, never interested her. What the hell was wrong with her?
She wasn’t going to solve that riddle in the next sixty minutes, so she grabbed her keys and her purse and headed out of Tender Fork’s offices, through the building’s shared lobby, then out to her car.
Noah’s parking space already sat empty. Apparently, he couldn’t wait to do his “errand”—or rather, to do Misty.
Lauren held back unexpected tears. Rah freakin’ rah…
* * * *
An hour later, Lauren returned to Noah’s office. He sat waiting for her, looking a little disheveled, a forgotten sandwich at his elbow. Apparently, his little cheerleader had spent the last hour with her hands mussing up his hair while he, no doubt, had completely sated her. After such great sex, who cared about something as mundane as turkey on wheat with sprouts?
When she sat at the small round table on the other side of his office and dragged out her folder, Noah’s head shot up.
He smiled, clearing his throat, then quickly looked away. “Good lunch?”
Fabulous. I met four marines in the parking lot at Denny’s and we went for it. You? “Um, fine.”
“Feeling better?”
“Really, I’m all right. Let’s just finish this. I know you have another meeting, and I promised Emma I’d be on time tonight so I can take her to her dance class.”
Surprise furrowed Noah’s brow. “On a Wednesday? I thought Emma’s class was on Saturday.”
It was Lauren’s turn to be surprised. He’d remembered the day of Emma’s ballet lesson after a passing comment? Well, why not? The man was a genius, and his mind frankly amazed her.
“The kids are with Tim this weekend. He’s hoping to take them to the lake. This will be Emma’s make-up lesson.”
“What are your plans this weekend?”
Lauren paused. Did Noah want to know as a man or a boss? Had to be the latter. Why would he be interested in her when he had Misty and her pom-poms?
“I’m going to try to finish laying the tile on the bathroom floor. I’m close now. It’ll be nice to have that chore done.”
She would not ask him about his plans. If it involved Misty and satin sheets, Lauren would rather not know.
Sad, really. She hadn’t always been this way around Noah. When she’d been newly married to Tim, before the high-powered job and the kids and the PTA meetings consumed their lives, she’d enjoyed Noah’s great company and sharp wit, and hoped he’d find the right woman someday. Now, she suspected if he announced he’d found the right woman, Lauren would feel an irrational urge to break her legs. She’d never even met Misty, and already Lauren didn’t like her.
“Hmm,” he responded. “Since I have nothing planned, I assumed whatever you had going on had to be more exciting, but clearly, I’m wrong.”
Nope. But it could be exciting if you wanted to lay me, rather than the tile floor… “You mean you don’t want to play house?” she teased.
As soon as the words left her mouth, she could have slapped herself. Oh, that comment had come out so wrong…
“I—I meant help me finish the girls’ bathroom.”
Noah looked like he might be repressing a smile. “Um…no. Sorry. Enjoy, though.”
“Leaving all the fun to me, huh? I can’t wait.” Sarcasm dripped from her tone.
This was the rapport with Noah she missed. Fun chitchat, the banter back and forth. They hadn’t been able to just talk like this since…well, since just before the divorce, when she’d really started looking at him as a man. And wanting him. He remained friends with Tim, but had reached out to her soon after the split and told her that if she needed anything, he would help. And he had, with a great job. But their easy camaraderie of the past was now nearly nonexistent.
When she glanced at him again, he shot her a mischievous smile and a very direct stare. While it rarely dropped below her neck, Lauren sure felt it right between her legs. His gaze did all kinds of damage to her self-control. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he might be…flirting? No. Wishful thinking.
Business, not bedroom play.
Lauren should look away, knew she should. Only Noah’s blue eyes reeled her in. The man was mesmerizing. And she had to stop gawking and drooling or he’d know how badly she wanted to jump him. Hell, he might even fire her for sexual harassment.
“Only three items left on our list of things to cover,” she said, breaking the tense silence with an all-business comment.
“Three things. Hmm.” He turned his attention to his computer.
Finally, she could breathe again.
Noah grabbed his mouse, long, strong fingers curling around the oblong plastic. Lauren would rather see them elsewhere. Like on her.
Give it up and get over it. She sighed and returned to the notes in her folder.
“Lauren, I can’t find the e-mail you sent with those new appetizer reports. You know, the ones you put out last week? Can you print me a copy?”
“Sure,” she said, happy for an excuse to leave the weird air swirling between them. Entirely her imagining, she was sure.
When Lauren rounded the corner of her desk, she moved to sit in her chair…and found something in it. A textured white envelope. Nothing written on the front, but definitely something inside, judging from the bulge of neatly folded paper.
Given the fact it was on her chair, she assumed someone set it here for her. Safe assumption, right?
Shrugging, she opened the envelope, withdrew the lone page inside, and unfolded the thick paper.
You. Me. Naked skin. Shared fantasies. A whole night.
Soon.
Lauren blinked at the typed note. Read it again. And nearly stopped breathing. Someone here wanted her? Someone who’d gone to the trouble of writing her a note and leaving it in her chair. No hint of a signature or his identity. And maybe the situation should have creeped her out…but she didn’t sense menace behind the words, just desire.
She looked around the sea of cubicles with new eyes. Who? Gary was too straightforward. Most of the other men here were older, happily married, or gay. Except Noah, and he had little Miss Pom-poms to keep him warm at night. Maybe it was simply someone who worked in the building. Tender Forks shared this building with several other businesses. Security was relaxed. Maybe it was one of the consultants across the hall? The possibility didn’t excite her.
“Lauren?”
The object of her fantasies stopped just behind her, his deep, sin-inspiring voice seeping into her. His warm breath cascaded down the back of her neck. She couldn’t help it; she shivered. “You find that report?”
“Report?” she repeated numbly.
She couldn’t seem to get her mind off a whole night of naked skin and shared fantasies and inserting Noah in the picture.
“This it?” He took the piece of paper from her hand and lifted it to read.
Lauren reached out to grab the page back, but it was too late. His dark expression told her he’d already read every word.
“Interesting note. Who gave this to you?”
She could feel herself flushing every shade of red. “I found it in my chair. Someone left it there. I—I don’t know who left it.”
She couldn’t tell whether he was pissed she might be hooking up with someone in the office or so amused he was about to laugh his ass off. He was a master negotiator. His face never gave away anything unless he wanted it to.
“Well, you don’t have to guess what he wants.”
The flush spread wider, seeping heat through her body. “No, that’s clear.”
He quirked a dark brow at her. “Worried? Do you think this is