by Tawny Taylor
She laughed. He was such a knucklehead. A delightful, funny, sexy goof. “Not in my book.”
“Damn! You were on my Christmas card list.”
She chuckled. “Then why didn’t I get a card this past Christmas?”
“I didn’t send anyone a card. I’m terrible with those kinds of things. Someday, when I get married, my wife’ll have to handle that, or we’ll be disowned by our friends and family for sure.”
The picture of him married with a house full of kids sent another chuckle into her throat. “You? Married?”
“Hey, it could happen.” He stopped at a red light and gave her a heart-stopping smile. “You don’t think I’m marriage material?”
“Not at all.” Maybe prime beef for a nighttime romp…
“Why’s that?” He shifted the car into gear and it rocketed away from the intersection, leaving the other cars behind in the dust.
“You’re too racy, just like your Vette.”
“It’s all show.”
She studied his profile, wondering if he was telling her the truth, or just telling her what he thought she might like to hear. “I don’t believe that for a minute.”
“Well, then I’ll just have to prove it to you. I think I’m headed in the right direction. Last night, for one, should give you at least an inkling. You passed out cold. I could have stayed at your place, stripped naked, and probably gotten some—“
A current of heat shot to her face, and a few rivulets wandered down to her belly. “Whoa! What are you talking about?”
“I know you wanted it. No use denying it.”
“What I wanted had nothing to do with the it you’re thinking of.”
Gabe shook his head. “I guess I had you pegged wrong. I didn’t think you were the kind to deny your own sexuality. Thought you were a little more aware than that.”
Her face couldn’t get any hotter. She turned from him and rested ice-cold fingers on her flaming cheeks. “I am aware.”
“Then why lie?” He stopped the car at another red light. And as she glanced at him, she caught his gaze wandering over her form. Slow and lazy, yet intense at the same time. It was the kind of gaze a man gave a woman when he wanted “some.”
And it was working…
She crossed her legs, imagining how he would feel resting between them. She loved the weight of a man, solid and hot, on top of her.
Her mouth went dry. Her heart pounded in her ears. That familiar throb settled in her crotch. Damn it! How would she work like this?
“Can we talk about something else?”
He drove away from the light, and she was grateful when she spied the building up the street. “Sure.”
Thank God!
They pulled into the parking lot, and Fate retrieved her purse, briefcase, and lunch from the floor before stepping from the car. She made a beeline for her office, noting the unfamiliar face at the reception desk in the lobby.
Damn it! She’d forgotten about Julie. In her place at the Chrome Throne stood a blonde with boobs that had to have set her back at least ten grand and a face that had to cost her at least double that. Fate nodded a greeting at the woman and headed upstairs, listening to Gabe’s animated voice behind her.
Evidently, Gabe knew Miss Plastic Surgery.
Why did that bother her so much?
Up above, she stood on the balcony and watched him chatter with the woman. She really was gorgeous, in that Baywatch blond bombshell sort of way.
Racy. That woman was racy.
Gabe said he liked racy.
She bumped into something with her shoulder. She turned.
Michael smiled at her. “Morning, Fate. How’re you feeling?”
“I’m fine.”
“I had a great time last night. We should do it again sometime.”
“Sure.”
“Well, gotta go. I’ve got a ton of work to catch up on.”
“What work?” She hadn’t given him anything since last week, and with the company change, those reports wouldn’t be needed.
“Gabe gave me some things to follow up on. I have a list.” He waved a manila file at her.
“He did?” When had he found the time? Was he already trying to show her up? “What kinds of things?”
“Just some market research stuff. Competitors and such.”
“Okay. Just do me a favor. Give me a copy of everything when you’re done.”
“Will do, Fate.” He hurried toward the stairs, catching Gabe at the bottom.
Fate watched them talk. Couldn’t make out a word. She’d never make it as a lip reader.
What was Gabe up to? Trust him? Her ass! There wasn’t one single cell in Gabe Ryan’s body that deserved to be trusted.
She went into her office and took a seat, dropping her head back and closing her eyes for a moment. Her neck and shoulders were stiff as hell, already, and her head was pounding. The pain killer wasn’t doing a bit of good.
“You’re not feeling so hot, are you?” Gabe asked as he entered.
She didn’t bother opening her eyes. “I’m fine.”
“You’re a bad liar.”
She listened to his footsteps approach. As each one grew closer, her nerve endings prepared for the shock of his touch. Where would it be?
Her shoulders.
At first she flinched. But as he kneaded the sore muscles like a pro, she started to relax. “Oh…yeah…” She groaned. She moaned. “God, that feels good.”
“Just relax, trust me. I took a class or two, wanted something to fall back on if the marketing gig fell through.”
“You wanted to be a massage therapist?”
“Sports trainer, actually.”
She opened her eyes, and he smiled down at her.
This was not a comfortable position. With her head flopped back, she had no choice but to meet his gaze, and that gaze was mighty hot. Then it dropped a little and she found herself looking down to see what he was staring at.
Her shirt—correction, her chest. From his vantage he had a nice view of rounded cleavage miraculously enhanced by her black lace Wonder Bra. “Like what you see?” She raised an eyebrow.
“Sure do.” He licked his lips. “What’s not to like? Two firm, round breasts, just the perfect size to—”
“Okay, Hound Dog, off!” She shrugged her shoulders and slumped forward, temporarily out of his reach. “I need to get to work.”
“Sorry.” He stepped away, and she felt a chilly cloud settle around her. He slumped into his chair, his back to her.
Peace. At last. So, why did she feel so rotten? Why did her legs itch to carry her over to that tippy desk? Why was only one thing on her mind?
What had he done? Hypnotized her?
She spent the rest of the morning shifting papers from one folder to another, and doodling on her note pad. Didn’t accomplish a single thing. Nadda.
This was not going to work! She’d be staring at a pink slip in less than a week if she didn’t get her act together. Pronto. At lunch time, she passed Duncan in the corridor. He gave her an empty smile and asked her how the new arrangements were working, but he didn’t stick around long enough to hear her answer.
Yep, she would have that pink slip by next Friday at the latest.
Gabe disappeared at lunch—probably had a friendly meal with Miss Plastic Surgery—so she ate alone at her desk.
Alone. Lonely. Funny, in one day he’d turned her life upside down. The office felt empty, lifeless, too silent. She used to always eat alone at her desk before. It hadn’t felt lonely then.
He returned on the hour, flush-faced. Had he…? Oh, she didn’t want to know. For some reason, imagining his hands on that…that fake woman with Pamela Anderson lips and boobs…grrr!
Why was she jealous?
He returned to his desk, spun his chair around and crossed his arms over his chest. “Have you had enough silence for a while? If I have to sit here for another four hours without speaking, I’m going to chew right through this desk.”
He looked so utterly charming, basically pleading with her to talk to him. What an odd character! A curl flopped over his forehead, striking a spark in her belly. Damn, he was cute.
“Yes, I’ve had enough silence.”
“Good.” He jumped from his chair and was at her side in two long strides. He returned to massaging her shoulders. “How’s the hangover? Gone yet?”
She closed her eyes, lost in the sensations pummeling her. The smell of his cologne. Yum! The way his fingers put just the right amount of pressure on her tense muscles. The growing tingle between her legs.
What had he asked? “Mmmm…” was all she could muster.
“Guess that means it’s gone.” He moved up to her neck, fingertips walking up and down both sides. “Feel good?”
She slumped her head forward. “Yeah.”
He worked his way down, easing her over her desk until her chest was pressed against the top, her arms crossed, her forehead resting on her wrists. With nothing but the feel of her slick desktop, cold, and unyielding under her arms, and his hands on her back, massaging away the tension she hadn’t realized was there, it wasn’t long before she was completely turned on.
She’d never had sex in the office before…
The desk was probably the perfect height…
What was she thinking?
She sat up. “That’s great. Thanks!” The ache between her legs was almost unbearable, and the once cold desktop was doing nothing to cool her off. She was hot from toes to hair roots, and everywhere in between.
When had she become such a sensual creature? Her last boyfriend had complained incessantly about her lack of sexual response, and she had to admit she’d been a cold fish. She’d even considered going to a doctor to see if she needed those pills—the female version of that little blue one.
Guess it hadn’t been a hormonal thing! That was a relief.
“Do you want to work together?” he asked as he dragged his chair across the room. He parked it next to hers and dropped into it. “We were off to a good start last night.”
We sure were! The first image that came to mind was that moment in the parking lot. His hands on her breasts, his mouth exploring hers. “Where do you want to start?”
He leaned close. His mouth was right there. All she had to do was lean…just a little, a little more… His breath brushed her mouth. Her lips went dry, and she licked them. They didn’t touch his, almost. She waited for him to close the hair’s-breadth distance between them.
Without moving that gorgeous mouth, he reached around her and slid her doodle pad across the desk. “How about listing options for media?” he whispered.
How could he think about work?
“To hell with that.” She cupped his face in her hands and took control, kissing him like she meant it. Her lips massaged his, her tongue ran along the seam of his lips and begged admission. He opened to her, and her self-control snapped. Her tongue danced with his, a riotous tango, thrusting in and out. Her body ached for completion, and she turned her chair, stood and straddled his legs. He held her ass as she sat on his lap, her skirt hiked high over her hips, her legs spread wide.
Damn! She ground herself into him, ever aware of his erection through his clothes. Her hips gyrated, the rhythm slow and sexy. She felt his hard-on through her nylons and soaked satin panties.
He broke the kiss. “Better close the blinds, eh?”
She looked over her shoulder at the wide window, open to the balcony outside, and a matching one across the way on the other side of the lobby. No one was out there, and she was suddenly grateful for the fact that her office sat at the very end, thereby inviting very little passing foot traffic. Still, if the lights were on—which they were—anyone standing on the balcony across had a clear shot into her office. And who was housed in the office directly across from hers?
Duncan.
“You don’t think he saw us, do you?”
“No, he’s gone for the afternoon.”
She sagged with relief then stood and dropped the blinds over the window. When she spun around to face him, he was looking at her, expectation written all over those picture-perfect features.
A tiny part of her hesitated. He was so sexy, so unbelievably good looking. And it felt so right being in his arms. But, they were working together. What would this do to her ability to concentrate? Now, more than ever, she needed to simplify her life, remove distractions, focus on what was important.
He raised a brow. “Are you sure about this?”
“No, I’m not.”
“Then we won’t.”
“But…” This was so hard to talk about. “I’m horny as hell. What you do to me!”
He chuckled and took her in his arms. “You know what you do to me, too. But I can wait until you’re ready.”
“I was ready before…” She was very aware of the slick wetness in her panties. It felt cool as she moved.
“We have time. No need to rush.” Holding her close, he rested a palm against the side of her head, and she closed her eyes and listened to the steady thump of his heart.
“I just can’t believe we’re even thinking about this.”
With a finger under her chin, he forced her to look up. “Why not? We were amazing together. Have you forgotten?”
She had, if it had been this good. “No. Uh. I just remember you being a little quick. I’m sorry, that was spiteful. What I do remember was the constant bickering.”
“That’s changed. We’re getting along fine and now I like to take things slow. I’m not that boy anymore. I’m all grown up, I’ve learned the value of…patience.” He dropped a kiss on her nose then trailed more over her eyes, down her hairline, and up and down the side of her neck. Goose bumps blossomed over one arm, and she shivered. “You don’t remember this?”
“No, remind me.”
He reached a hand and teased her nipple through her shirt then unbuttoned one, two, three buttons. He bent lower and kissed the crest between her breasts. “Damn, you’re so beautiful. Absolutely perfect. The way you look. The way your body responds to my touch. The way your lips form that special smile, just for me.”
She leaned back, grateful her desk was behind her to stop her from falling to the floor. Her head dropped back, her eyelids closed. He pulled her bra aside and blew on her nipple, bringing it to instant hardness. That wasn’t enough, though. He nipped it, teased it with his tongue and mouth until the throbbing between her legs had returned full force.
She tangled her fingers in his silky curls, welcoming his onslaught on her breast, and grateful when he moved to the other side.
“Let me refresh your memory.” He teased that nipple to aching erection, then finished unbuttoning her shirt, trailing kisses down her stomach. He reached around and grabbed her ass, lifting her up and setting her on the desktop.
He looked at her through heavy-lidded eyes and slid his hands up her skirt. One palm settled over her mound, rotating slowly until she thought she might come then and there. Her eyelids fell closed.
“I couldn’t forget,” he said. “For years, I’ve remembered the way you look, smell, taste.” His fingertips caught the waistband of her nylons and panties, and she lifted her hips to allow him to pull them off. He slipped her shoes back on after tossing the clothing aside. “High heels are incredibly sexy.”
She felt sexy. Sexier than she’d ever felt. The way he looked at her! She might as well be the most perfect woman in the world.
“Can I taste you?” he asked, stooping down and kissing her ankles. He licked and nipped the sensitive skin behind her knees then moved higher to her thighs. “Can I taste all of you?”
Her legs parted. “Oh, yes! Feast away.” The only thing she could think about was having him inside. Her body thrummed with the thought. Every nerve ending pulsed. “I want you.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
He pushed her skirt up to her waist and eased her legs apart, devouring her with eyes flashing hot with need. �
�My God, look at you. So wet and ready for me.” He inhaled. “And that scent. There’s nothing like the smell of A woman. My woman.”
Her arms trembled as she leaned back on them. And when the first touch of his tongue came, they nearly turned to marshmallows.
Electric shocks shot up her spine.
He started slowly, laving her folds then parting them and making tiny circles over her clit. A finger slipped inside, stroking the sensitized walls as his tongue lapped her clit with a steady motion that carried her closer and closer to completion.
She mentally tried to resist coming. But her efforts were failing miserably. He was so good. He knew where to touch. He knew exactly how fast, how much pressure… She was in heaven.
When that telling flush shot up to her face, she pushed his head away. “Stop.”
He smiled. “What’s wrong?”
She swallowed a cotton ball that had settled in her throat. “I need you inside me. Now.”
“Then take me.” He stood up and spread his arms wide. “Do what you will.”
The phone rang, and they both looked at each other then at the intrusion.
Damn it to hell!
Thank you, God!
She closed her legs, yanked her skirt down and scooped up the receiver. “Fate Doherty.”
“Hello, Honey? It’s Mom. Are you busy right now, or can you talk?”
Shooting Gabe one of the most genuine silent apologies she’d ever had to give, she scooted down from the desk and wriggled by him. Breathless, she scooped up her panties and hose from the floor and flopped into her chair. “I can…talk. What’s up?” she stammered.
“Dear, are you all right? You sound out of breath.”
She swallowed and tried to force her breathing to slow. “I’m fine.”
“You should take a vitamin with iron. You know how easy women can become anemic.”
“Mother. I’m not anemic. I just…er, ran up the stairs. Why did you call?”
“Stairs, hmm? I just wanted to see how you’re doing, that’s all.” Translation: did she have the mortgage yet.
“I’m doing fine, Mom. Still don’t have word from the mortgage company.”
“Well, they’re taking a mighty long time. Don’t you think?”