by Tawny Weber
Admirable. And, she frowned as she noticed wilting trellis roses, a little concerning. Mitch, who seemed to notice the browned roses at the same time, swore.
“My nana swears that a little water fixes that particular rose problem,” Belle joked.
Mitch glared, then pointed to the ground beneath the roses. Belle saw the broken sprinkler heads. Brow furrowed, she stepped closer.
“They look like someone kicked them.” A few times, she noted, taking in the destroyed plants surrounding the black plastic. Her first thought was kids, but there were no kids around Lakeside. “Vandals?”
“Maybe. The gardeners keep finding this type of destruction. All minor stuff, just enough to be a pain in the ass.”
“This isn’t the first vandalism problem?” Construction problems, personnel issues and now vandalism? What was going on? Sure, one or two could be blamed on start-up woes. But all three? Who had Mitch pissed off?
“There’ve been a few similar landscape issues, along with some missing supplies. The linen shipment disappeared from the laundry room, showed up a week later in the generator shed.” The frustration in Mitch’s tone was echoed in the cold anger in his eyes. Belle was glad that look wasn’t aimed at her. “Nothing I can take to the police as proof there is an actual problem.”
“You don’t have video out here, right? I remember that being one of the things that factored into my idea to run with the sex theme. You offer so much privacy, it’s a shame not to use it. Then again—” she waved her hand at the poor roses and wrinkled her nose “—if you’re going to waste my plan anyway, maybe you should put in some kind of security measures.”
“You have quite a few ideas for someone who can’t tear herself away from her hot sex life to do her job,” he snapped. “Why don’t you focus on not screwing up these events and let me worry about handling my resort.”
Belle gasped. Fury such as she’d never felt before flashed hot and bright. She didn’t even think to temper it, instead giving in to the wave of anger. “How dare you? Who the hell are you to question my work?”
Normal restraint disappeared, leaving Belle freer than she’d ever felt before. She threw her notebook to the ground, the slap of leather against tile ringing out like a gauntlet.
Two steps was all it took to put her up close and personal with Mitch. Her sandaled toes butted up against his work boots. She glared into his shocked face.
“I’m damned good at my job and have never screwed up a single event. Can you say the same? No,” she plowed on before he could respond, “I don’t think so. If you have an issue with my work, just say so. Although how you’d have a freaking clue is baffling since all you’ve done for the last week is hide.”
“I—”
She swung her arm up in an arrogant, speak-to-the-hand gesture she’d never thought she’d use and cut him off. Anything he said was only going to piss her off more.
“And for your information, my sex life currently sucks.” She slapped her palm against his chest to push him out of her way. She knew it was shock that made him step back, not her strength. She didn’t care, as long as he moved. “Just so you know, I blame you for that, too.”
* * *
MITCH’S MIND REELED between regret at his unfair accusation to astonishment at Belle’s reaction. But as she shot that final slap, both physical and verbal, his jaw dropped.
His fault? The hell it was.
Her hair was a silken wave that hit him smack in the face as she spun around to leave. Before she could take more than a step, Mitch grabbed her arm and pulled her back.
Anger, frustration and a pounding desire all beat at him. All the practical excuses and sane reasons he’d taken to reciting daily in an effort to avoid temptation flamed to cinders when he met the fury in her stormy sea-green eyes.
“We need to talk,” he said in a low growl. With a quick look at the deserted landscape, he decided it was still too exposed for the chat he had in mind. So, his hand still gripping the soft skin of her arm, he pulled her with him toward the pool’s linen room.
“We don’t have jack to discuss,” she snarled, trying to tug free. “I don’t want to talk to you and I guarantee you don’t want to hear what I have to say.”
“On the contrary,” he snapped, pushing the door open and pulling Belle with him into the dimly lit room. It was the size of a small shed. Neatly folded towels filled the shelf-lined walls and the air was warm with the scent of laundry detergent and sunshine. “We obviously have a lot to say to each other.”
Belle tugged her arm free and glared. Her breath shuddered in and out, drawing his eyes to the lush bounty he’d been trying to ignore beneath her silky tank top. Mitch’s gaze traced the curve of her breasts to the sweet indention of her waist, emphasized by a jeweled belt before the silk gave way to denim.
All week, hell, for the past six years he’d dreamed of her long legs wrapped around him. Of those hips welcoming him. Caution screamed in his head, a blaring warning that he was treading on thin ice. He’d promised that he’d keep his hands off her as long as she worked for him. Too much was at stake.
Apparently unaware of Mitch’s inner struggle between desire and his vow to stay the hell out of her pants, Belle planted her fists on her hips, tugging the silk tighter against her breasts in a way that showed a narrow strip of her bra. Sparkling jewels caught the faint light like a treasure beckoning.
“What the hell is your problem?” she asked, her tone as angry as the look on her gorgeous face. “When did you turn into a caveman?”
“We needed to talk,” he repeated. “We both have jobs to do. Given all the problems I’ve had, the last thing I need is you stomping off in a snit.”
“Snit?” She actually hissed the word.
Getting turned on by her anger was probably a bad sign.
“Look, I overreacted, okay? But I promised myself I’d keep my hands off you. Which isn’t easy with all your blatant flirting and come-ons, I’ll have you know.”
From the sneer she shot him, it was a piss-poor explanation.
“Want to remind me of when I begged you to put those hands on me?” she asked. She gave him a long, slow, up-and-down look that jacked his already cranked-up libido into full gear. “Did I touch you? A little pat on the ass? Flirty suggestions or come-do-me looks?”
Mitch arched a brow, about to remind her of their first meetings two weeks before. Catching the look, Belle rolled her eyes and flicked her hand toward him. “Bullshit. Anything that happened before we signed our contract doesn’t count. You said the only way you’d be comfortable with us working together was if it was all business. I complied.”
He hated that she was right. She’d been totally professional. At least she had until she’d blown off the previous day’s tour to go on a date. Mitch mentally winced. Was that the real reason for his anger? Was he jealous? Pitiful, especially since he had no right to be.
Mitch’s brow furrowed. Damn. It was one thing to be pitiful, but he had no right to take his anger out on her. He ground his teeth and tried to shove the emotion aside. He owed Belle an apology.
Ramming his hands into his pockets, Mitch stiffened his shoulders, battled down the fury and opened his mouth to offer up his apology. Before he could say a word, though, she was off and running again.
“Just because you’re too sexually uptight to handle a hot relationship doesn’t mean you should take your attitude out on me,” she snapped, stabbing at him with her finger.
Mitch’s apology turned into a glare but she just rolled her eyes.
“Oh, please. Even if we accept your silly excuse about our past and your business being too touchy to allow anything to happen between us, there’s still the rest of it,” she scoffed. “Admit it, you’re too uptight to consider an incredibly innovative and exciting proposal that would guarantee your resort’s success.”
He’d had enough. Enough of her accusations. Enough of the sexual frustration that kept him churned up and crazy. Enough of being practical and
self-sacrificing for the good of the many.
Screw it all, he was sick and tired of denying himself. For once, he was taking what he wanted.
He gave a low growl. Belle gasped. Before she could do more than blink, he moved, grabbing both her wrists and pinning her, arms overhead, to the smooth wall of the linen shed.
Heat, lust, anger all tangled in his system as he pressed his body close to hers. Like a drug addict grabbing for his fix, he closed his eyes in ecstasy even as he hated himself for giving in to the need.
But damn, it felt good.
Mitch didn’t wait for Belle to recover. Instead he took her mouth in an intense, wild kiss. Passion flamed hot and furious between them as she opened her lips to his seeking tongue. Her welcoming moan sent a shaft of desire through him. His downfall felt deliciously decadent.
* * *
SHOCK FADED AS BELLE gave over to the power of Mitch’s kiss. She had no idea what had incited the move, but she loved it. Loved the feel of his lips, soft and slick as they moved over hers. The power of his tongue as it tangled and wove, inviting hers to join him in the sensual dance.
Her breath came in pants now. Between the heat of his kiss and the wild excitement of feeling trapped by his hands holding hers prisoner, her panties were damp. She’d never gone for the submission thing, but Mitch holding her captive made her wild to let him have his way with her.
She squirmed a little, needing Mitch to hurry, to do something to relieve the building tension in her belly.
“More,” she murmured against his mouth.
“Wait,” he murmured back.
She groaned as he slid his lips from hers, already missing the hot dance of his tongue. She sucked in her lower lip, wanting, needing, to taste him.
Mitch traced kisses, hot, wet and exciting, down her throat. Belle groaned when he reached that spot, just there where her neck met her shoulder, and nibbled.
She tugged at her hands, needing to touch him. To feel his shoulders under her fingers, his chest and biceps. She just wanted to grab him and hold on while he took her for a wild ride.
Mitch wouldn’t let go. Instead, he shifted so he held both her hands in one of his. Belle thought briefly of how large his hand must be to wrap so neatly around her wrists. The realization made her grin, then, unable to help herself, she pressed her hips closer to his, a quick undulation to check out the myth.
Yummy. If the very hard, very large length pressing against her thigh was any indication, that myth was based on reality. A reality she wanted to see, to feel and get to know up close and personal.
“More,” she demanded again. The need in her belly was getting tighter, more urgent. “Quit playing and show me what you’ve got, big boy.”
Mitch chuckled, as she’d hoped he would. But even better, he used his free hand to test the weight of her breast, then in a swift move he released her hands to tug her tank top and bra straps down one shoulder.
Belle’s breath caught, her gaze locked on his face. She’d never worried about being judged before, but Mitch was different. She felt she’d wanted him, just like this, all her life. Lust and pure masculine appreciation were clear on his face. That look was as much a turn-on as the feel of his dick, hard and throbbing against her thigh. Tension fled, leaving only desire and need as he met her eyes. Their gazes locked as Mitch traced his finger over her areola, then flicked her hardening nipple.
She gasped.
His gaze dropped to her chest, color heating his cheeks. He bent and touched just the top of his tongue to the aching tip of her breast. Belle wanted to cry at the torment.
But she’d be damned if she’d beg again. Instead she shifted, wrapping one leg around his hip so she could press her wet, hot core against his thigh. The move lifted her breast higher. Mitch showed his appreciation by taking her nipple in his mouth, sucking, licking and nibbling.
Belle whimpered, her breath coming in pants now. Her head fell back against the wall, eyes closed to the dim light as she gave herself over to the wonderful feelings Mitch’s mouth was inspiring. She didn’t even notice that he’d let go of her wrists until she felt one hand under her butt. That hand lifted, controlled her undulations as he pressed her closer. The other tugged the second set of straps down to bare both breasts.
His mouth still tormenting one nipple, he worked the other with his fingers. Belle groaned her approval, pressing tight enough that the seam of her jeans added to the spiraling pleasure.
Mitch released his grip on her butt, shifting just a little so Belle could wrap both legs around his hips, his dick pressed against her throbbing core. The denim between them only added to her wild excitement.
Holding a breast in each large hand, he pressed them together. His thumbs worked her nipples as his mouth moved, wet and wild, first tormenting the left, then the right. Belle’s hips jerked. She pressed closer, her ankles grabbing tight to his butt.
Heaven. When he nipped, teeth sharp yet gentle, at her wet nipple, she cried out in pleasure and lost control.
Gasping for breath, she came hard and fast. Lights exploded behind her eyes, her body melted with the power of the orgasm.
“Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod,” she chanted as she rode the wave. Mitch kept her up there, his tongue still working, his hand back beneath her butt to support her as she collapsed in delight.
Tension—hell, all feeling—fled her body as she sank into the afterglow of a first-class orgasm. Her legs numb, she dropped her feet to either side of Mitch’s, but didn’t shift away from the throbbing power of his dick where it pressed against her belly.
It took her a minute to realize he’d stopped his torment of her breasts. When she did, she lifted her head and opened her eyes to meet his.
She had to laugh. His grin was pure male ego.
Then it faded. Belle heard voices outside and realized his crew had probably shown up to fix the sprinkler problem.
Seeing she’d regained control, Mitch stepped away, visibly working to regulate his breathing. Belle stared through foggy eyes, satisfaction throbbing in her belly, between her legs. Damn, she felt great.
“Your turn?” she asked, her voice husky with pleasure.
She watched him swallow, then glance out the narrow window.
“The last thing I need my gardeners seeing is my bare ass,” he said with a grimace.
Belle smirked. The chances of the gardeners peeking in were slim at best, but she didn’t bother calling him on the flimsy excuse.
“I’m not uptight,” he insisted. Belle kept silent, letting her arched brow speak volumes.
Well, he hadn’t felt uptight, that was for sure. But then, he hadn’t dropped his drawers, either. Rather than giving him the agreement he so obviously wanted, she just shrugged and adjusted her clothing, again not saying anything.
She hid her grin when she heard his teeth grinding from across the tiny shed.
“I’ll read your proposal again,” he suddenly promised. Shocked, Belle met his eyes. “If it’s as solid as I remember, I’ll submit it to my management team.”
She didn’t want a job—any job—based on sex, or in Mitch’s case, unrequited sexual need. But she did want a chance.
“Why?” she asked.
“Because you’re right. The idea is solid, it meshes with what I’m trying to do here. So it’s worth considering.”
“And if your team agrees?”
“We’ll modify your contracts.”
Belle nodded. Then she moved forward, close enough to feel the assurance that he was still hot, hard and excited. “And what about us?”
Mitch winced. “It’d be stupid to screw up a business deal over sex.”
“It doesn’t have to be like that,” she returned, noticing he didn’t say they wouldn’t have sex. “Think of it this way. My proposal for your resort is based on sexual thrills. Don’t you owe it to your clientele to try them all first?”
Mitch’s eyes went round, then crinkled with laughter. “Why don’t we see how the proposal goes first?�
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Belle grimaced, thinking of what the last proposal between them had cost her. But she was smarter this time and definitely nowhere near as naive.
With that in mind, she gave Mitch her most wicked grin and stepped closer, letting the back of her fingers brush over his still-straining erection.
“You take me up on my proposal—business, pleasure or both—and I promise, you won’t regret it.”
With that and a quick butterfly kiss, she turned to saunter away. She felt the heat of his gaze on her swaying hips and let her grin fall away. Now she’d better figure out how to make damned sure she didn’t regret it, either.
6
“WHAT KIND OF SEXY food did you have in mind for the room-service menu?” Mitch asked the people around the board table. This was their first group brainstorming session on the resort’s new theme and he wasn’t doing so well. It was a struggle to use the same tone he’d employ to discuss the type of artwork they’d carry in the lobby or how many brands of scotch the bar should have on hand. In other words, to keep this discussion at the level of pure business.
Damned hard, too, seeing the woman sitting across from him who had cried out as he brought her to an orgasm in a towel closet three days before. The look she was giving him, pure flirtatious amusement, told him she was waiting for a repeat performance.
“Probably just two or three items,” Belle said, her delight at the conversation, and probably at his apparent discomfort, clear in her tone. “The trick is going to be choosing the right ones. You might want to tie into your revolving-guest-chef theme with these. Keep a standard on the menu at all times, say oysters, since their reputation is so tried in food.”
Mitch exchanged confused frowns with his manager, then asked, “Tried and true?”
“Exactly.” She shot him a grin before leaning over to dig through her satchel and pull out files for everyone at the table. Their current discourse on sexual turn-ons was being shared with two of his managers, his head chef, Jacques, and Miles, the resort’s head of security. A nice, intimate group with which to brainstorm kink.