Daddy's Virgin
Page 37
This was different, I realized. It felt inevitable. Ever since he stumbled into me at the office holiday party, I had known I wanted this, and there was no turning back now. If I was going to be a rumor, then I at least wanted to enjoy what everyone would assume.
I opened another button then pressed my lips to his warm throat. Rainer's pulse was galloping, but his hands were slow. He gently tugged my blouse loose, unbuttoning the top of my jeans as he worked his way around my waist. When Rainer's hands slipped under my blouse and brushed against my bare skin, I lifted my lips from his throat.
"Tasha," he whispered. He teased me with two kisses then tugged my blouse up and over my head.
I stepped back, suddenly self-conscious. I had seen the other women at the office he had been with. Then I saw his eyes. Rainer didn't blink as his eyes dropped from my lips to the white lace of my bra. The delicate and revealing lingerie seemed to captivate him. He reached out both hands, palms up.
I shook my head and reached for his shirt. "Fair is fair."
I lost myself in the next kiss, the touch of his skin against mine, and only surfaced long enough to help him slip my jeans down over my hips. Rainer fell back onto my couch and pulled me down onto his lap. I resisted, not wanting to lose the friction of my thin lace against his dark chest hair. I sat down astride him, reveling in his approving moan. I pressed smiling lips against his mouth until his hands pulled me closer.
Rainer clasped me, and our bodies rubbed together, the tantalizing friction so acute between my legs that I moaned out loud. In response, he popped the clasp on my bra and peeled it out from between us. Again, I moaned as he pressed me up against him and released me. I flowed against him like a wave.
When I felt the exquisite strokes bringing me higher than words, Rainer wrapped his arms around me and shifted me down onto my back on the couch. My hands helped his as he tugged off my white lace panties and then reached for his own waistline. We fumbled, and he laughed, bemused by his own clumsiness.
I wanted that smile, wanted to feel it, and ran my hands up his arms to grasp his shoulders. Rainer's smile gave way to a hungry growl, and he lowered himself into my arms. We both moved slowly, his weight coming over me slowly as my feet drifted up his legs to wrap around his waist. Then our lips touched, and Rainer devoured me with a kiss.
I arched up, feeling him hard against me, then he shifted, and we suddenly fitted together. So deep, so tight, his breath panting against my wet sigh of pleasure. I rocked upward, just a slight pull with my legs, and we both groaned in ecstasy.
Rainer's lips never left mine even as our rhythm sped and slowed. He teased me, and himself, as he withdrew and went deeper. I felt his muscles shudder, contract, concentrating until the pressure pushed everything out of my mind. There was nothing but a bright burst that radiated through every inch of me. The wild waves of it caught Rainer, and he dropped his head to my shoulder with a long, emptying sigh.
We waited, my hands drifting up and down his back, his lips drawing a trail from my ear to my shoulder and back again, until the waves subsided. Then Rainer looked at me, the electricity back in his blue eyes, and I remembered the inevitable is rarely a good thing.
What had I done?
Chapter Ten
Rainer
The city lights of her view glowed. Tasha's small condo was lit from it, and the effect was a magical semi-darkness. In it, her skin was honey. God, if I kept thinking like that, I would have to devour her all over again.
I eased up, immediately missing the warmth of Tasha's body. "How about I light a fire?" I asked.
Tasha nodded quickly, but there was a small, glowing smile still on her face. She sat up when I turned away to the fireplace. She tossed my boxer shorts over my shoulder, and I could hear her slipping back into her clothes. When the kindling was blazing, I turned around to find her blouse and jeans all tidy. At least her hair was still loose and tousled.
"I'll grab our plates," I said, pulling on my pants as I jumped up.
"Thanks," Tasha said. She eyed my bare chest as I brought our full plates to the coffee table.
I handed her her wine and wished there was more I could do for her. Tasha was quiet, too quiet. I wanted her praise, but I didn't need it; I knew what I had felt extended through both of us. I just wanted her to say something, anything.
My fork stopped mid-air and a pile of jasmine rice spilled back onto my plate. I wanted Tasha to ask me to stay. I wouldn't, I mean, I couldn't. I wasn't the kind of man who stayed all night and cuddled, but there it was, the urge to pull her close and hold her until the flames burned down to embers.
"I can't get over your view," I said.
"Me neither." Tasha eyed my bare chest again.
I laughed and held out a forkful of curry for her to try. Tasha shook her head. "Am I seeing a blush on your cheeks?" I asked.
Tasha almost spilled her wine. "I think we're a little past blushing, don't you?"
"I don't know," I said. "If you do a few of those things again, you'll have me blushing all the way to my toes."
She finally let loose a giggle. "Stop. We're not talking about that."
"You're right," I said. I leaned over and kissed her neck. "Talking's overrated."
"What would we even have to talk about?" Tasha asked.
I knew what she was thinking. Outside of work, what did we have in common?
My phone buzzed in the kitchen and saved us both. Tasha nodded for me to answer it and took a large bite. At least I knew she wasn't going anywhere.
"Don't worry, it's not work," I said.
Tasha coughed. "You work past sunset?"
I chuckled but bit the inside of my cheek when I saw the message from Berger. He and the guys were out in San Francisco and my absence was a major topic of conversation. Berger had called my assistant and heard all about my day in the East Bay. With Tasha. The messages then devolved to the current odds on me bedding the Ice Queen and a list of suggestions for if I managed to get the chance.
I had to send out a message reminding Berger of my interior designer. Then I realized he might know Sheila. I swore at my phone and then turned it off.
When I rejoined Tasha on the couch, the fire was warm, but her expression was cool. Even though the couch was a jumble of cushions, her clothes were wrinkled, and her hair was still a seductive riot, Tasha looked prim. Her plate was balanced on top of where her knees pressed tightly together. She pretended to eat as if nothing was wrong, but I knew the magic glow was gone.
"Speaking of work—" she started to say.
I groaned and cut her off. "No. You're not going to do that. Can't we just finish dinner? Maybe have another glass of wine?"
"But you have to drive back to the city tonight," Tasha said.
I lost my appetite and left my plate untouched. "I can always call a cab."
Tasha put her plate on the coffee table and swept her hair back over her shoulders. I caught her hand before she could twist her hair into a neat bun. She froze at my touch and then firmly pulled her hand free.
"It's always better to catch Stan early in the morning, especially with a progress report. He'll be in a better mood the earlier we catch him," Tasha said.
"You're setting an early meeting?" I asked.
Tasha fumbled under the couch and found where her phone had fallen. "I think it's best, don't you? We need to measure our campaign inch by inch so we don't waste more resources."
I watched her type the email to Stan while I pulled on my shirt. "I'll just be going then."
Tasha walked me to the door of her condo and I held my breath before I stepped outside. I wanted her to grab my arm; she wouldn't even have to pull me back. Instead, she kept both hands flat on the door, her body pressed against it like it was a shield. That empty want stretched out as I waited a few more seconds, but nothing happened.
I felt that hollowness even after I crossed the Bay Bridge and drove towards Presidio Heights. I blared the horn and cut around slow tourists, revving my sports
car past sane speed limits. I liked hearing the tires scream as I took off from red lights, jumping ahead of traffic so I was out on my own.
A speeding ticket would have been the perfect punctuation to the night. I had gone too fast and screwed everything up. That moment, that mushroom cloud of passion, was still reverberating, but now it was a permanent black mark on my record with Tasha. Had she thrown me out to protect herself or had I just been used as a one-night stand?
I couldn't imagine Tasha being so stupid as to choose an officemate for casual sex. Only I was that idiotic.
The thought that Tasha had shut me out in order to protect herself lit up the rest of my drive. My neighborhood was dark, the majority of the mansions empty and silent. All the other occupants were off on exotic vacations or living the good life in some other corner of the world. I imagined some of them, energetic couples, happy families, all somewhere warmer, brighter.
I left the sports car in my driveway and walked around back onto my deck to watch the cool fog. San Francisco was shrouded in fog, the ocean view an undulating mass of eerie gray.
Tasha's neighborhood was still clear and bright. She'd said the fog never reached her hilly street. The thought twisted in my chest. I shouldn't have left. I should have stayed and made her glad that I was there.
I kicked the deck railing and turned to let myself into my echoing mansion. I imagined Tasha still cozy in front of the fire, sipping her wine.
I snorted to myself. "Probably in pajamas that button all the way up to the top. Or she's already in bed with her outfit for the morning all laid out proper."
My giant white marble fireplace yawned at me across the wide living room. For a minute, I considered breaking up my old dining room chairs and starting a fire of my own, but my phone rang.
"Tasha?" I asked. I stood up and paced around in three tight circles. Did she want me to drive back over?
"Did you make it home okay?" Tasha asked.
"Worried about me, huh?" I asked. "And here I thought you didn't care."
Tasha carefully cleared her throat. "About that, Rainer. It was a complete mistake. I have no idea what came over me. I'm sorry. You don't have to worry about it. It won't ever happen again."
"I think you forgot 'we never should have' and 'let's just pretend it didn't happen.'" I kicked one of my dining room chairs.
Tasha paused, considering the loud clatter, and then said, "I don't mean to be a cliche, but this is my career we're talking about."
"That's all you care about, isn't it?" I stopped myself and held the phone back while I took a deep breath. "Never mind. Your secret is safe with me. It's already forgotten."
"Good night, Rainer." Tasha hung up on me.
"See you in the morning," I muttered. Then I threw my phone across the living room.
That damn phone was the reason I was late for our early morning meeting. It had somehow skidded into the kitchen and slipped under the refrigerator. By the time I found it, there were already five messages from my assistant.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm on my way," I said when Topher called again.
"Mr. Berger dropped by to see if you were in. He seemed to think you were going to be very late this morning." Topher was worried, I could hear it in his voice.
"No, I'm on my way."
"It's just, I saw this morning that a meeting with Mr. Eastman had been added to your calendar by Ms.—"
I gripped my scuffed phone hard. "I know. I've still got time to grab a coffee upstairs, so find me there if anything else comes up."
Berger and the other junior executives were already lounging around the dining hall when I arrived. I ignored their catcalls and jokes, poured myself a large coffee, and then came to stand at the corner of their table.
"So?" Berger asked. "We've got numbers to run. What happened with the Ice Queen last night?"
"Who says I was with her? There's a whole other world of women over there in the East Bay," I said.
They all laughed, and that's when I caught sight of Tasha. She stopped in the doorway of the dining hall and then made an abrupt exit. Luckily, no one else saw her hasty retreat, but it was all I could focus on. There was no doubt she was worrying that laughter was about her.
"Convince me," Berger said. "Traffic on the Bay Bridge is crap. Give us some details, or we're all staying in the city like civilized men."
I shook my head. "No details before cocktails. Don't you have a meeting to get to?"
Berger laughed and stood up. "A few days working with the Ice Queen have really changed you, man. Now all you talk about is meetings."
Everyone laughed again, but I was relieved when they filed past and I could drop my fake smile. Tasha would already be waiting in Stan's office, and I worried how close she was to her mentor.
"Glad you could join us, Rainer," Stan said as I rushed through his office door.
Tasha barely glanced up from her reports, but I caught a warming blush on her cheeks. It made me angry. She was the one who had invited me back to her condo, she had kissed me first, and now she was pretending to be the blushing maiden? For all I knew, Tasha chewed up and spit out eligible men every day. She was just smart enough to choose her prey outside of work. I vowed to do the same, starting that very night. It was the only cure I knew for being used by a beautiful woman.
She really was beautiful. Tasha wore winter white pants with gold high heels. One bright heel bounced nervously as I sat down next to her. "I see you didn't bring the reports I sent you."
"I'm sure my assistant will—" Topher slipped through the door, ran the reports over to me, and then disappeared again within seconds.
"Does your assistant even know where the printer is?" Stan asked Tasha.
Tasha sent him a sharp look, but the older man just smiled. He looked back and forth between the two of us and crooked an eyebrow. I decided the view from his window was impressive enough for another look, and Tasha refused to look up from her neat numbers.
"Well," Stan said. "Looks like things are, ah, progressing between the two of you. The GroGreen community garden campaign is already gaining an online following. The only surprise was finding out you two had signed on for the long-term. Didn't know you were both so interested in gardening."
"I'll make sure the garden is up and running before I train a replacement. Then it will only be about courtesy contact and trouble-shooting," Tasha said.
I snorted. Was that what she thought she was doing when she called last night? Just a quick courtesy call to tell me I was a mistake she already regretted, and problem solved.
"What about you, Rainer? The selfies I saw from the community center crew showed you looking very happy." Stan rested his elbows on his desk and pinned me with an unblinking gaze. "Are you putting down some roots out there in the East Bay?"
"Everyone needs a hobby, sir," I said.
Stan laughed and dismissed the rest of the conversation. The meeting ended with Tasha rushing out so fast that both Stan and I felt the breeze.
The older man glanced at me and said, "Tasha always was too quick to exit."
I was still reliving it, Tasha's hasty dressing, the way her whole demeanor pushed me far out past arm's length, and how I had ended up alone on her front steps all within minutes of leaving her warm body. It hurt. The worst of it was I wondered if Tasha thought that was how I acted. Was she trying to level some sort of female-solidarity revenge on me? If so, she was wrong. I never rushed out or left things unsaid. I certainly didn't call late at night just to rip out someone's already-bruised heart.
Ego. I meant to say ego, but the mistake repeated in my head.
"Is this a bad time?" Tasha asked. She backed out of the door.
"Yes. I mean, no. Don't go. More reports to look over?" I asked.
Tasha inched back into my office but stayed near the open door. "I, ah, hope I didn't call too late last night."
"Too late for what?" I asked.
"I, I just wanted to make sure that everything is all right. You know, between us.
Stan says the board is adamant that we continue on as a team."
I sat up and attacked my keyboard. "Speaking of teamwork, have you seen the photos of us on social media?"
Tasha hesitated but finally came around my desk to stand behind me. "Did they use the keywords and tags I suggested?"
"Yes, see?"
We both froze as the first photo appeared on my computer screen. It was a shot I had taken just before lunch, Mr. Reynolds on one side of me and Tasha on the other. Her cheek was pressed to mine, our smiles just inches apart.
The next one was from the preschool teacher with her class coloring our Popsicle stick row markers. In the background, Tasha leaned on the classroom counter and smiled as I said something in her ear.
There was even one when I had bent down to retrieve the rosebud that Tasha had dropped. The look on her face, her soft smile, hit me hard in the chest. Why hadn't she looked at me like that later in the night? Had I really screwed everything up that badly?
"Rainer?"
I stood up, accidentally cornering Tasha behind my desk. "Yes, I think we need to talk, but this time I get to start—"
"Rainer?" A light but sharp voice called from my still-open office door.
I turned around and felt as if the room kept spinning. Ellison Ramsey didn't even pause in the doorway. She breezed across my office in her haute couture, trailing the expensive perfume that was specially made just for her. That scent used to make my mouth water, but now it choked me.
Before I could move, Ellison came around my desk and kissed me firmly on the mouth. "Rainer, darling, you look as wonderful as always. Oh, I didn't see you there."
Tasha drew her shoulders back and held out her hand. "Tasha Nichols, Rainer's co-worker. And you are?"
"Running late." Ellison dismissed Tasha and turned to me. "I know it's last minute, but I'd love to take you out for lunch."
"Not today—" I stopped as Ellison danced her fingers up my chest then cupped my cheek.
"You always made time for me in the past," she said with a hot little smile.