by Jodi Henley
Jen detoured around an impressive arrangement of stargazer lilies, and approached the receptionist. “I’d like to see Mr. Dalfrey, please.”
The woman pulled a pair of rhinestone studded glasses down the bridge of her high-bridged nose. “Do you have an appointment?”
“I didn’t expect to need one.”
The receptionist—her name tag read Margaret—rolled over to her computer and brought up an appointment log. “We have an opening next Tuesday. Is ten good for you?”
Jen gathered up her nerves, took a deep breath and calmly placed both hands down on the cool marble. “I want to see Keegan. Now.”
For a second the woman looked puzzled. “I’m sorry...Ms.…what did you say your name was?” She shook her head and waved her hand dismissively. “It doesn’t matter. Mr. Dalfrey is in a meeting and can’t be disturbed. Why don’t you take one of our cards and call back later? We might have a cancellation.”
Jen swallowed her frustration. “I want to see Keegan.”
The receptionist rose to her feet, clearly concerned, but ready to stand her ground. “I’m sorry,” she said. “You’ll need an appointment like everyone else.”
Tris moved away from the wall. He touched his side and lifted a brow. Help?
Jen shook her head. No.
A door behind the desk opened on the most incredibly handsome man Jen had ever seen. On a scale of one through ten, he was easily a twelve. His hair was Stalling-black, and his eyes were the green her father would kill to put into their genome.
“You’re Connor,” she breathed.
His gaze slid from her to Tris and back again. The urbane mask slipped to reveal something savage. “Yeah,” he growled. “I’m Connor. Tell me who you are, lady. I’m getting real nervous.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Corlis held on to Nick with one hand, hopping around on one foot. Her toes ached in places she didn’t know could hurt. “The next time I agree to let you pick out my shoes, I’ll just put a bullet through my brain. It’ll be faster.”
Nick slipped both hands around her waist to steady her. “If you want to look good, you must suffer. It is the way of woman, and very mysterious. Maybe you should sit down.”
“And split my skirt? I’ve put too much time into this outfit. I’ll be fine once I get this strap buckled.”
The back entrance at the far end of the hall opened. Without a word, Fallon disappeared into the company exercise room, a duffle slung over one shoulder.
Corlis straightened. “Nick?”
“You knew he was coming. It is better this way, with no one to see.”
Her fingers locked around his forearm. Nick pried her loose, muscles bulging under his thin black polo shirt. He was smart and stylish and never used double negatives, but for all the lust he aroused in her, he could have been a slab of ham. From the minute Fallon had walked into her life, she’d wanted him in ways that made her heart pound. She straightened her skirt and took a tentative step.
“Sway,” said Nick. “It does not work if you look like the stick is up your ass.”
“Great way to put it, Nick.” Corlis teetered back into her office and rummaged in her desk for the small pink package Maggie had given her ages ago as a joke. Her neckline was just loose enough to get her fingers under. She pulled at her bra and slipped the inserts into place, working the jelly pads down under her breasts. “Damn it, Nick. Do I look lopsided?”
She pushed her dress down off her shoulders and studied the lacy white cups.
Nick turned his back on her, arms folded across his incredibly broad chest. “It is hopeless. No one would believe I am not in here tearing your clothes off and making mad passionate sex to you on the floor.”
“The inserts don’t work!”
“You are fine the way you are.”
“I look scrawny.”
“Jelly pads do not make you look better, they make you look top-heavy.”
“Maybe if I moved them over to the side?” Corlis stepped closer to a decorative mirror Maggie had also put up. It was the first time Corlis had ever looked into it. She worked the inserts deeper.
Nick made an exasperated sound, crossed the room and caught her hand. “You know what I mean, Corlis. You must apologize and use your new clothes.”
Maybe the underwear would work, because Corlis doubted something as simple as an apology would fix everything that was wrong between her and Fallon. She jerked her dress back into place and stalked down the hall after him.
Fallon looked up as she entered. The exercise room was small, leaving Corlis all too desperately aware of him lifting weights less than three feet away. His bare torso was streaked with sweat, and the room smelled like him, musky and potent. She opened a window because she couldn't catch her breath, and when she turned, he was on his feet, pale eyes hot and hard.
“If my smell offends you, you can fucking leave.”
She stiffened at that. “I came in here to apologize.”
“To who? Me? Jesus, that’s a joke. You came in here to clear your conscience about doing Nick.” His gaze skimmed down her dress and he turned away, wiping his chest with a towel.
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “For everything.”
Fallon didn’t move. Nick was wrong and she was pathetic, hoping Fallon would read what she couldn't say into a dress she normally wouldn't wear. She turned away quickly, hands clenched down at her sides. If she stood here for much longer, she'd start to cry and wouldn't that be fun?
She didn't hear him move, but when he whispered, "Don't cry, babe," she heard the sound she made—high-pitched and in pain.
“You're too close!”
The rough curve of his palm slipped into the hair at her nape. “Not close enough.”
“Fuck this!” She blinked back her tears and sucked in a short, terrified breath. “Give me your towel.”
Fallon pushed her against the wall and held her in place with his body, both arms locked around her, holding her while her chest heaved and her nose filled.
She struggled, trying to break away from the rawness of her emotions. “I c-can't do this,” she told him, “I-I....”
“I love you,” he said softly.
Her lips parted as the words choked in her mouth, “I-I….”
“I love you,” he repeated. “I've loved you forever.”
Her heart was pounding so loudly, she couldn't form words. The damn inside her broke and she clung to him, fingers digging into the hard flesh of his back as she hiccupped and cried.
Fallon shook, face buried in her hair. “I love you.”
Corlis held on to him, the man she'd loved since the fourth grade, and finally looked into his pale, hot eyes. “I've a-always…loved you, too,” she mumbled.
She felt his laugh rumble up and explode as he swung her around and around, teeth flashing in a big belly laugh. Then his lips closed over hers and she felt him groan as she deepened their kiss, feeling him hot, hard and ready for her beneath his low-slung pants.
“Worth the wait,” he said fiercely.
She knotted her fingers in his and smiled back. “Show me.”
****
Jen looked for a polite way to express her greatest fear as she accompanied Connor down the hall. “Is Keegan...ah, alert?”
Connor shrugged, an odd look in his eyes, half-hidden by the charming small talk. “I don’t know,” he said. “Paperwork comes out, so I assume he’s alert. At least part of the time.”
He opened the door, then swept a foot through the mess on the floor, clearing her somewhere to stand. The air in the room wasn’t good. The combined esters of sweat and alcohol hit Jen like a brick. Keegan slouched at his desk, booted feet up on his keyboard. He’d shoved one foot through the monitor, and he looked tired. More than tired. Ill.
As she watched, his eyes opened to slits and he reached for a bottle on the floor beside him. She didn’t know whiskey came in bottles that big.
Connor shook his head. His expression was slipping an
d Jen got the impression he was furious. “Get your ass up,” he told Keegan, “and give me that bottle.”
Keegan lifted the bottle to his mouth with both hands.
Connor jerked it away. “We crawled out of the fucking projects—if you’re going to get shit-faced, use a glass. Here,” he shoved Keegan’s chair to an upright position. “I brought you a present.”
Booted feet hit the floor and Keegan came out of the chair ready for battle, the menace in his stance so palpable he looked like a completely different person.
Jen stumbled back, shoulders hitting the door with an audible thump.
“Get out,” Keegan snarled at his brother.
"Keegan?” she whispered.
He turned so fast he would have fallen if Connor hadn’t been there to catch him. “You!”
Her heart beat painfully fast. She didn’t know this Keegan. Had she made a mistake in coming here?
His chest heaved, his breath coming quick and hard. “Please don’t be a hallucination.”
Jen cleared the lump of fear from her throat. “Get them a lot?”
“Once or twice a day,” he said, “but they’re intense.”
“Sex and violence?”
“Too much violence,” breathed Keegan. “And it was never just sex. Where’s your brother?”
“Percival is on his way to Beijing.”
Suspicion narrowed his eyes. “Is that why you’re here, Jen? You want to fuck me, and my company?”
She pushed away from the wall, hands down and knotted down at her sides. “Security knows where I am.”
“Your brother runs StallingCo Security.”
Jen crossed the room to where Keegan leaned with one hand braced on the broken monitor. “Yes, he does. Is that a problem?”
“I stink,” he said, putting her presence and Percy’s approval together at last. “I haven’t showered in—”
“It doesn’t matter.”
He looked at her warily, like maybe he’d misunderstood.
“I love you,” she told him. “Stinky stuff and all.”
He stared. And stared some more.
“Keegan?” she asked, when she couldn’t stand the silence.
He swallowed. “There’s a full bathroom down the hall.”
“Yours?”
“Sort of,” he said.
“Can I...join you?”
“Yeah,” he breathed. Then passed out at her feet.
****
Corlis slammed the office door open, stepped over Keegan, and gave Connor a pointed look. “If you’re not going to do anything, get out of the way. Fallon! Grab his legs. I’ll get his arms.”
She wore a skin-tight blue dress and spiky sandals so tall she wobbled. Fallon followed her, loose tan ACUs hanging low on his lean belly. He dripped with sweat and had his hair tied back in a bandanna.
“Fallon do this. Fallon do that. Fallon pick up the stinking drunk so he can have wild monkey sex in the bathroom. Man, I’ll never be able to look at that tub again.”
“Fallon!”
“All right, all right—he’d just better keep his boots on. I’m not about to touch his feet.”
Jen grinned. If anyone could get Keegan sober, it was Corlis. She and Fallon carefully eased Keegan through the door, away from the back of the building and down a narrow beige side corridor to the bathroom.
Fallon shouldered the door open.
Corlis flashed Jen a quick smile. “The minute you turn on the water, we’re out of here.”
They dumped Keegan on the toilet seat.
“Oh, God.” He dropped his face in his hands, the back of his neck bright red.
Corlis squatted in front of him and pulled at his hands. “Get with the program and make little Dalfries. Want some coffee?”
“No.”
She smirked. “Need help with those jeans?”
“Can you get any more personal? Oh, right,” said Keegan. “Anything to make this more embarrassing—and what the hell are you wearing?”
“I’ll get his pants.” Jen was starting to enjoy this as much as Corlis.
“No offense. He’s big and drunk, and you’re not. Want me to stretch him out for you?”
Fallon pulled his partner back. “Go for it, Liss. Traumatize and annoy.”
“I want nieces!”
“All the blood relatives you want,” said Fallon. “I want to get out of here. I have better things to do.”
Corlis cocked her head to the side, a glint in the depths of her cool gray eyes.
Fallon held the door for her. “Out.”
She touched Fallon’s arm, a quick glide of her long fingers. “Follow?”
“Yeah,” he said thickly. “Follow.”
****
Jen laughed softly. “You’re blushing.”
Keegan stood, one hand braced on the wall next to the tub. “Trust me,” he said. “It’s not a blush.”
He stuck his head under the shower, and let water sheet down over his neck and shoulders.
“Toothpaste?” she asked.
“Thanks.”
He stopped just long enough to put some on his finger and work it around in his mouth.
Jen leaned up against him. “You’re sticky.”
Keegan finished rinsing his mouth, and turned to pull her into his arms. “Yeah,” he breathed, nuzzling her throat.
The things he could do with his mouth. “Omigod—I mean, do that again.”
Keegan swelled against her, surely not too traumatized to show her how much he appreciated her.
“That’s it,” he growled, reaching around her to jerk the shower curtain to the side. “I’m not waiting a minute longer.”
He pulled her into the shower with him. His jeans and her pink linen suit were instantly soaked. It was terrifying. Exhilarating. Liberating. He kissed her ferociously, as if he were seconds from ripping her clothes off, but her shirt wouldn’t rip—linen was funny that way—and he ended up leaning his forehead against hers.
“I’m not very good at this,” he admitted.
She shrugged out of her jacket and pulled the shirt over her head. “I think I’d be offended if you were.”
He trailed a finger into the cup of her bra and pushed the wet satin aside. “If this is a dream, Jesus—don’t wake me.”
She pinched him instead. Hard.
Keegan slammed back against the wall. “Ouch! What did you do that for?”
Jen stepped out of her panties and advanced on him. “Get me down off that pedestal, damn it.”
He pinched her back.
She jumped. “Hey!”
“You still have your bra on,” he said with a crooked smile.
She matched his look. “Not anymore.” The tiny scrap of white satin dropped into the water swirling around their feet.
“Come home with me,” he whispered. “I have a bed.”
“It was never just sex—”
“No,” he said softly. “It was never just sex—and, shit!” His hand moved desperately on the wet denim. “I can’t undo my jeans.
“What is it with you and zippers?” She pushed his hand aside and dropped to one knee, fingers slicking up his hard length. “Then again…” She licked her lips. “Let me...”
“God.” Keegan leaned against the wall, eyes burning. He wanted to ooze down into a little puddle on the floor of the shower, but the bathroom was about as private as a toilet stall at IHOP. Not that he cared. He turned off the water behind him, and opened his arms. Jen walked right into them, no questions asked.
“Why did you come back, Guinevere?”
“Unfinished business?”
“Yeah,” he breathed. “We’ve got some of that.”
“The sex was great.”
“It was never just sex.” He cleared his throat. “This, uh, love thing is pretty hard, isn’t it?”
“I’m...not used to talking about my feelings.”
“Ditto that. Want to go somewhere?” he tried. “Maybe...talk?” She looked around the cr
amped space.
“It depends,” she said.
“On what?”
“On how fast you can get us there, and—oh!”
Keegan picked her up, throwing her over his shoulders in a fireman’s hold.
“Omigod,” she cried. “Your shoulder—”
Keegan grabbed a towel, tossed it across her butt, threw the door open and started down the hall. “I’m better,” he said. “Really, really better. And if I wasn’t, it wouldn’t freaking matter. I’ll do anything to get you alone on a bed, a couch—something horizontal and big enough for the two of us, and I don’t mean the backseat of my car.”
He stopped halfway down the hall and fumbled in his pocket for a key-ring. Jen jerked at the towel and tried to figure out how to cover both her breasts and her butt.
The door opened on a small room and a neatly made bed. Keegan flipped a switch and a single lamp cast a soft golden glow over the simple green comforter. He dead-bolted the lock, then dropped Jen on the bed before following her down.
She looped her arms around his neck. “A bed?”
Keegan grinned back at her. “A place to sleep. We don’t always have time to go home.”
“It works.” She nuzzled his neck. “We can talk up close.”
“Honey, when you do that, talking is the last thing on my mind.”
The sounds she made as he kissed her were so sexy he couldn’t get his pants off fast enough. Aww, hell—he couldn’t get his pants off at all. He pulled at the waistband. “They’ve shrunk.”
“It could be that you’ve grown,” she offered, raking her fingers down his chest.
Keegan tried to hold himself very still. He was so damned tight he was afraid he’d explode just like that, in his pants, like some kid who couldn’t wait to get it on. He winced when she pushed him over and back, but it wasn’t a wince of pain. It was complete and utter joy.
Fuck the pants. He could get new pants.
Jen wrapped her fist around the pull and gave it an experimental tug. “Keegan?”
He reached down and pulled at his fly, the muscles in his shoulders straining. The teeth burst apart.
He swept the pillows out of the way and rolled her beneath him.
“Impressive,” she said, “but I didn’t bring condoms.”