Adding Heat

by Cris Anson

  “There. I’ll see you soon, okay? I just have to lock the front door and I’ll be on my way to Dad’s. I’ll call you tomorrow when I figure out the best software for you.”

  “Thanks, Con. For…everything.” She touched him on his biceps, unwilling to embarrass him with a public display of affection until they talked about what had happened between them, or at least her perception of it. For any casual passerby who knew him, it would look as if she’d been thanking him for his professional accounting services.

  He walked up the steps to the front porch while she went around to the driver’s side and unlocked the door. As she was sliding into the seat, she saw a young, lithe blonde in tight jogging shorts and skimpy top scoot up the steps behind him.

  “Con,” the model-thin woman said, embracing him from behind. “I saw the lights on in your office and drove around the block to find a parking space. I’ve been waiting for you to call me, sweetie. It’s been too long since we got together. Wanna have some fun sometime soon?”

  Giselle saw Con swing his arm behind him to give the young beauty a half hug while his other hand was still on the key. OMG, Giselle thought. She had to get away before she burst into tears. She’d just had an epiphany about him and an obvious lover from the past—or maybe the present—was inveigling him into a liaison. Oh lord, the jogger was much closer to his age, more his style. They looked so good together, both tall and athletic, her fair skin and blonde hair the epitome of California surfer-girl looks.

  Dammit, she would not jump to conclusions. She wouldn’t run scenarios in her head about the two of them rubbing together, sweating and screaming. She would be adult about it and wait for him to provide an explanation.

  But she didn’t sleep well that night.

  Chapter Six

  Con was in a terrific mood. One of his strengths as an accountant was to cogitate on a problem until he found an answer. While the Phillies were losing last night, his subconscious mind had worked overtime and he woke up this morning knowing just what Giselle needed to remedy the deficiency in her accounting procedures. He hoped she wouldn’t mind that he’d taken the initiative to push her into something new.

  He pulled into the driveway of Stonehedge Landscapes at six in the evening, happy to see all the trucks in their bays and the laborers stowing tools and equipment. Hopefully Giselle would soon be free to talk to him.

  When he didn’t see her in the staging area, he walked down to the office. Giselle sat at her desk computer and the burly guy, the foreman, was at the one set on a smaller desk against the wall. Her face brightened when she saw him, then she seemed to rein herself in.

  “What do you want?” the foreman growled, swiveling in his chair to glare at him.

  “I have some business to discuss with the president of Stonehedge Landscapes. I’ll wait.” He gave her a warm smile. “Good afternoon, ma’am. You’re looking especially lovely today.”

  The foreman snorted. “Beware of salesmen carrying attaché cases and speaking with forked tongues.”

  “Larry! Con is a friend.”

  Larry stood then looked down at Con from his couple inches advantage. “Yeah, I guess he’s a con man, all right.”

  Not intimidated, Con glared back at him. “Is he your guard dog, Giselle?”

  “That’s enough, you two.” She rose from her desk chair and came to stand between them. “Please, Larry. Settle down. What kind of business, Mr. Trowbridge?”

  “Remember I asked you about interfacing your business management software with your design software?”

  “Oh. Yes, I remember.”

  He could have sworn her face registered disappointment before her professional façade was back. What had she been expecting, that he’d ask her to marry him with that grizzly bear in the room?

  “If you’ll permit me…” Con swung his attaché case to an empty corner of her desk and opened it. “I downloaded that connecting software we discussed on a one-week trial. I also browsed through the online version of the software programs you told me you used, so I’ve familiarized myself with them. If you have a half hour or so to spare, I can show you how it works, and if you agree, I have all the bells and whistles to connect my laptop to your computer and start it running.”

  “What kind of snake oil is he selling, ’Zelle? Does he think he can just waltz in here and run your business?”

  Con straightened his spine, squared his shoulders and puffed out his chest. He’d never be as strong as this galoot, but he could stand his ground, dammit. “Mrs. Sheridan requested my professional assistance as a CPA and I am providing it. I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware that you had the final say in how she runs her business.”

  Giselle turned to the foreman. “Larry, please. If you can’t be civil, I’ll have to ask you to call it a day and finish inputting your specs tomorrow. We’re all hot and tired and cranky. Why don’t you log out and go home?”

  “How much is it going to cost, I want to know? Fancy software can run thousands of dollars.”

  “Larry.” She sounded exasperated. “This is just a trial. Once I see how it works, I’ll decide whether I need it and whether I can afford it.”

  The grizzled man gave Con a long stare then turned back to the satellite computer and logged off. “I’ll be home tonight if you need me, ’Zelle.”

  “Thanks, Larry.” She watched him stalk out the door then turned to Con with a sigh. “I’m sorry. I know he’s just being protective of me. But I appreciate your taking the time to check out the software. What do you need to know about my computer?”

  Con desperately wanted to take her into his arms and kiss her until she was wet as a river, but he sensed her unease about that little scene. So he’d be businesslike until he tested the waters, so to speak.

  He smiled at that double entendre and touched the space bar. Her computer came to life and he got to work. Sitting down at her desk, he checked out what programs were loaded then browsed for several moments. “Okay. I think this will work. Give me a few minutes to set everything up. I brought all the connector cables and accessories I could possibly think of.”

  When the data began flowing between his laptop and her computer, Con watched carefully for a while then rolled back the chair and stood. “We need to give it some time to do its thing. Meanwhile,” he stepped close to her, “are all your workers gone? You don’t have to go outside to stow anything or lock up anything or water anything?”

  For some reason she looked like a doe in the forest just before being frightened into leaping away.

  “No, I’m fine. I’m all ears. Tell me about this software.”

  “Giselle.” He wanted to stroke her cheek but held back. “You look nervous. Are you worried that I’ll put out a contract on your foreman for being so belligerent?”

  She didn’t smile as he’d hoped, and couldn’t quite meet his eyes, but locked her gaze on a point just beyond his shoulder. “No, not that.”

  “But you’re worried about something.”

  She rubbed her hands down the thighs of her jeans as though wiping sweat from her palms. “I guess after yesterday, I just expected…”

  “Yesterday.” His word came out like a sigh. “Yesterday was the most beautiful day of my life. And I can’t wait another minute to begin a repeat performance.”

  He swept her into his arms and kissed her thoroughly, with mouth and tongue, teeth knocking against hers, one hand fisting her ponytail to hold her head just so, the other hand pressing her glorious hips into his raging hard-on.

  “I can’t tell you how hard it was to concentrate on software,” he said against her lips, “when all I could think of was how you taste, how you feel. God, Giselle, I don’t know how I was able to control myself until that bodyguard of yours left.”

  She pushed against his chest until she could look into his eyes. “Truly?”

  “Honey, how can you doubt it? I’ve never experienced such fireworks in my life. We were made for each other.”

  “Oh.” She sagged against
him, her head buried in his chest.

  “What’s the matter, sweetheart? Should I have gone caveman in front of your foreman and fucked you against the wall?”

  She let out a small snicker then said in a tiny voice, “That woman who ran up to you yesterday as I was leaving your office. She hugged you and all but asked you for a date. She’s tall and slender, and she’s your age. I thought maybe you had…dessert with her.”

  Con had to shake his head. “You thought I was—that Samantha was— Wait a minute. My age? I thought we settled that. I don’t care how old or young you are. You’re exactly what I want. Period.”

  “Well, consider it from my vantage point. I saw this gorgeous young woman hugging you like you were intimately acquainted and you didn’t object—”

  Con threw back his head and laughed, then hoisted her up in a bear hug and spun her around the room. “Of course we’re intimately acquainted. You were jealous of my baby sister!”

  “Put me down, you—you caveman! I wasn’t jealous, I just wondered…”

  He finally set her on her feet. “Tell me the truth, Giselle Sheridan. Were you really, really not jealous? Not even the tiniest bit?”

  Instead of answering, she said in a prim voice, “Your sister? I didn’t see any photos of her in your office.”

  “I’ll make her remedy that situation post-haste.” He hooted and spun her around again. “You were jealous! Giselle Sheridan loves me enough to be jealous of another woman hugging me. Yee-hah!”

  He felt her go rigid in his arms. Uh-oh, his enthusiasm overstepped his common sense. It was much too early in their relationship to get into that. Although he felt they had a damn good chance to make it last.

  Slowly he released her to slide down the front of him. The hard, rigid front of him that wanted in. Now. “Giselle,” he breathed, his mouth a hairsbreadth from hers. “Do you want me half as much as I want you?”

  “Oh Con, yes! Can we—”

  He didn’t let another word get past her mouth, for he was devouring her, sucking her tongue then thrusting his own inside that hot, moist cavern, lifting her against him, grabbing hold of those wonderful ass cheeks of hers. Pivoting on his heel, he carried her flush against him, forcing himself to break the kiss to navigate through the kitchen. “Where do you want to go? Upstairs? Right here? Tell me now or I won’t be responsible for—”

  “Con, stop!”

  He checked his forward motion but refused to relinquish his hold on her lush body.

  “The office door needs to be locked,” she gasped.

  “Oh. Right.”

  He did a one-eighty back to the office and when he reached said door, she twisted her upper body to flick the latch then flung her arms around his shoulders. His knees all but buckled when she sank her teeth into the curve where shoulder met neck.

  They got halfway across the kitchen. “Now,” she said. “Right here.”

  “Yes.”

  Then they both ripped off their clothes. Con, with high hopes as to this particular outcome, had dressed in easy-to-discard polo, trousers and sockless loafers. Giselle cursed as the laces on one of her workboots knotted. Naked and with cock rampant, Con knelt to tackle the stubborn knot.

  “Knife. First drawer to the left of the sink. Cut the damn thing! Hurry, Con!”

  He found one that did the job. Finally he stripped off every piece of her work clothes and managed to remember a condom and, hoisting her onto the nearest counter, slid his cock into her with a fierce growl.

  “Oh lord, thank you for this little bit of heaven on earth,” he breathed.

  Looking deeply into her eyes, he said, “Giselle, I want you with every fiber of my being. Don’t ever think you’re too old or that I’ll look at some young thing who doesn’t know what she wants out of life. I want you!” He punctuated the last word with another brutal thrust of his cock. “Only you.”

  She wrapped her legs around his waist and gripped the edge of the counter. She had to, he thought, or the force of his thrusts would send her right into the wall. God, he loved this woman. “I love your intelligence, the way you took over the business, your courage, your backbone.” With every trait he listed, he slammed into her again to punctuate his words. “I love your tits, your curves, your wild hair. I love the way you feel when you’re squeezing me from the inside out. I love your arms and legs wrapped around me.”

  Damn, but he had to bite his tongue to keep from admitting the last bit of information he wanted to blurt out. But he knew in his heart and his mind that he loved her, that she was the only woman for him, and he’d wait as long as it took for her to realize it.

  Then she did that squeezing thing with her inner muscles and he could feel the storm roar through him, his balls tighten up against his cock, his head feeling it could explode like his cock was getting ready to—

  He let out a feral yell and emptied everything he had into her welcoming cunt, his heart, his soul, his life force, and only prayed that she would accept them.

  * * * * *

  A long time later, after half a dozen orgasms and a scant supper of a wedge of cheese and a couple of apples, they collapsed in each other’s arms in Giselle’s bed. She was happily exhausted and thought she could sleep for hours. Cuddling close to him, her rear against his front, she felt Con’s breathing even out. Shifting a bit, she crooked her neck to look at him. The night-light in the hallway dimly illuminated his dear face. He looked even younger in repose, especially with the freckles, but for the first time she considered their age difference an asset. His stamina boggled her mind, and she was gratified for the years of physical labor that allowed her to keep up with his almost insatiable appetite. For her.

  Smiling like the storied Cheshire cat, she felt her limbs grow heavy as she sank into sleep. She didn’t know how long she slept before she half woke when she felt the mattress dip.

  “Con?” she mumbled.

  Naked, he leaned into her, nuzzling her sleep-warm shoulder. “We left both computers running. I’ll just run down and check them out. Don’t go away. I’ll be back in a few.”

  “What time is it?”

  “Time for you to catch up on your sleep, my princess. I plan to wear you out again soon.”

  Feeling thoroughly loved, she burrowed more deeply into her pillow and fell asleep to dreams of Con and her walking through her nursery area hand in hand, enjoying the pungent smell of fresh bark mulch on the heeled-in trees and shrubs, listening to birds chirping and crickets singing.

  All too soon her alarm clock jolted her awake. “Damn, I wish today was a holiday!” But she knew her guys would be here in an hour and she needed to be dressed and alert. And have Con be the same.

  She turned under the sheets to nudge him awake. The side where he’d slept was cool. Had he never returned to bed?

  Maybe he already left, as he had before, conscious of her reputation with her staff. Whichever, she jumped into the shower and dressed quickly in jeans and tee. Smelling coffee, she smiled to think he’d repaid the favor and made a pot of morning coffee for her. Perhaps she’d find a love note alongside the pot.

  In stockinged feet, she skipped down the stairs, following her nose to the coffee. No note, but when she’d poured herself a cup, she heard a noise through the open door that connected kitchen and office.

  “Con? What are you—”

  Her mouth dropped open when she took in the scene. Printouts were scattered across her desk, file drawers were open and Con sat at the satellite desk in snug navy boxer briefs, pencil in hand. She wanted to admire his masculine form, but her gaze was snagged by the number of paid invoices arrayed around an old-fashioned columnar bookkeeping pad half filled with penciled-in numbers.

  “What on earth are you doing?”

  Without moving his gaze from the document in front of him, he reached out a hand. “Hi, honey. Come here. That software found something very interesting.”

  “Conlan Trowbridge, have you been here since you said you were turning off the computers
? What time was that?”

  “Hmm? Oh, around three, I think. This one thing alone will more than pay for the software. Look at this.”

  She smiled at his boyish enthusiasm. It was obvious he loved dealing with numbers, just as she loved working with growing things. “What did you find?”

  “Let me just run the numbers.” He reached for a handheld calculator he must have brought and began to key in data. After a while he whistled.

  “What? What did you find?”

  He reached for his coffee cup and grunted. “Empty. Would you mind getting me a refill, hon?”

  She wanted to strangle him. Con was even more dramatic than Aunt Esme. She strode to the kitchen, refreshed both their mugs and returned.

  “Ah. Thanks. That’s the second pot, you know.” He sipped appreciatively then got down to business. Finally!

  “Okay. I’ll give it to you straight. Remember when you left me your business tax return? And when that truck dumped your mulch, I commented that I thought you’d have more inventory of stone and gravel based on your list of expenses?”

  She nodded, trying to follow his words instead of the muscular lines of his naked back and shoulders, where she spied a few more freckles.

  “Well, here’s where this software comes in. What it does, it takes all the bills you paid in various categories of expenditures from your business management data. Then, from the design data, it takes the total volume of supplies you based your estimates on. Follow me so far?”

  She nodded again, silently encouraging him to continue.

  “So this software uses that data from the two programs and calculates whether things roughly equal out over a period of time. Let’s take that mulch you ordered. Four hundred cubic yards. Over the past year, that’s approximately how much you expected to use. So far, so good.”

  “But? I sense a big ‘but’ coming.”

  “Right. I came up with a total expenditure for the past two years for a company called Skyway Gravel and Paving.”

  “Yes, I remember approving invoices for them. Larry found them a couple of years ago when our last supplier went out of business.”