A Word with the Bachelor

by Teresa Southwick

  So much, she thought. “We haven’t had a status meeting for a couple of days. I wanted to see how the book is progressing.”

  “You mean the one that’s going to be better than my first book?”

  “Wow, there’s not a lot of forgive-and-forget in you, is there?”

  “No.”

  She stared at him, hoping he would expand his answer, possibly explain what it was about Lucy’s innocent remark that had hit a nerve. But he stared back and said nothing.

  With a confidence she wasn’t even close to feeling, Erin walked over to his desk and sat down in one of the chairs facing it. “How’s the book going?”

  “Fine.”

  “Great.” That was a lie and she knew it, but she smiled anyway. That deepened the frown on his face. “I’d love to read what you have so far.”

  “That’s not part of my process.”

  She was this close to telling him what he could do with his process. Just in time she stopped herself because she had an epiphany. He was doing his best to goad her into losing her temper. This was him reverting back to his behavior from the beginning, trying to get her to go away.

  “It’s not going to work, Jack. And I’m a little disappointed in you.”

  “Now what did I do?” The words were defiant, the tone bored, but it was all to cover the fact that she’d surprised him.

  “I thought we were getting along swimmingly and now you’re trying to get me to quit again. And I have to say the surly act isn’t very original. You’re a creative guy. Surely you can do better than this.”

  He swiveled his chair away from the computer monitor and gave her his full attention. “What are you talking about?”

  “This disappearing act of yours. We agreed to touch base once a day and you’ve violated our truce.”

  “I saw you at breakfast.”

  “That’s not what I mean and you know it. We had a routine and for some reason you’ve gone rogue.”

  His lips twitched. “Gone rogue?”

  “You’re doing things alone. Not playing well with others. Shutting me out.”

  “Not true.”

  “Oh, please. I dare you to tell me how I’m involved in the work.”

  “In case you’ve forgotten, I leave you a list of research topics every day.”

  There was an air of self-righteous superiority because he thought he had her on a technicality. As if what he gave her to do was seriously a job and the material he had her look up was important to what he was supposed to be working on.

  “Really, Jack? Medieval weapons. South American coups and the history of orchids? We both know it’s a smokescreen, throwing me a bone to keep me out of your hair.”

  “That’s harsh. Mac Daniels could be a key player in the disruption of a South American political power grab.”

  Erin got the feeling he was enjoying his own power grab just a little too much. He was holding all the cards and that wasn’t okay with her anymore. In a physical contest he could take her down with both hands tied behind his back. The man had training. He knew three hundred ways to incapacitate an opponent with a Q-tip.

  All she had was her wits. Charm and feminine attributes could be weapons, too, but she wasn’t sure she had a sufficient amount of either.

  “Name one topic you’ve ever given me to investigate that you actually plan to use in your story.”

  He leaned forward and rested his elbows on the desk. “What do you have there?”

  “These?” She held up several folders. “It’s everything that I’ve worked on since I got here.”

  “What’s in the top one?”

  She’d been around him long enough to know a bluff when she saw it. Jack couldn’t remember what he’d had her looking in to. That’s how important it was.

  Erin opened the file folder. “How to tease, tempt and tantalize your lover with words.”

  “That was on the list?”

  “Technically the focus of it was how to talk dirty. But I fine-tuned the theme.”

  “Ah.” He nodded. “How about the next file?”

  “Don’t you want to know what I found out about this?” She pointed to the material that had put a hitch in her breathing and shot a look in his direction that dared him to hear her out.

  “Sure. What have you got?”

  “Okay. Let’s start with the language of love.” She felt a stab of satisfaction when the smirk on his face disappeared. “There’s talking dirty, which is simply a graphic account of lust, and then there’s listening to your lover express pleasure in how attractive, special or sexy you are.”

  “I can’t see Mac doing either.”

  “You haven’t heard everything yet.” This was where she got even with him for all this research. “Moving on to voice. The tone you use with your partner can be more arousing than what you say. I found out there are exercises one can do to develop a richer, more pleasing pitch to make your voice sound naturally sexy. In my opinion the most effective ones are for the jaw, tongue and lips.”

  “Good to know, Erin. Great job. You are incredibly thorough—”

  “I’m not finished.” And speaking of jaws, the muscle in his was tight, as if he was gritting his teeth. Take that, Mr. Action-Adventure. “You’re going to love this. I need to tell you about sexual communication during a first meeting.” And the first one she’d had with him didn’t count. The one where he’d flat out told her to not even think about sleeping together because that wasn’t going to happen. “Some of this just might come in handy for Mac.”

  The amusement on his face was now missing in action. “He can handle himself just fine.”

  “Still, he might meet a gorgeous woman with the figure of a goddess and instead of complimenting a particularly well-endowed body part, it’s more effective to express appreciation about a standout quality in a person.”

  “So instead of Mac saying to a woman ‘you must work out a lot because your—’” he stopped for a second, let his gaze linger on her chest, then met her gaze “‘—muscles are nicely developed,’ he should compliment her persistence?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Okay, Erin, you’ve made your point. Let’s not—”

  “I haven’t gotten to the best part yet.” She flipped through her notes and something caught her eye. “Let’s talk fantasies.”

  “Let’s not.” His voice wasn’t resonant or modulated. It was practically a growl and filled with warning.

  “Just hear me out.” In for a penny, in for a pound. She was poking the bear and couldn’t seem to stop. He’d shut her out of the work. In her mind she had nothing left to lose. “Imagine a scene where Mac says to Bianca, ‘I want to make love to every inch of your body. I want to discover your most secret fantasies, the part of your soul that you’ve never shared with anyone else before. Let your erotic imagination go wild—’”

  Was it getting hot in here? Or was she heating up because his eyes were almost certainly focused on her mouth?

  “Mission accomplished. Research rebellion understood.”

  The words were barely a whisper but Erin swore his breath caressed her naked skin. She felt tingles everywhere—there wasn’t a place on her body that wasn’t touched. Her heart started to pound and she was sure he could hear.

  That was the problem with unintended consequences. This was supposed to get to him, but she’d turned herself on.

  What was it they said about revenge being a double-edged sword?

  Erotic talk was intended for your partner, which technically Jack wasn’t. She couldn’t swear to it, but his breathing seemed to be more uneven than when she’d started reading from her notes. That was just her own wishful thinking. It would be too humiliating if he saw that she had the hots for him. She needed to get out of here before this bad idea turned into a
disaster.

  “General rule of thumb, Jack. Don’t punish your reader and put all the research into the book.” They both knew he wouldn’t use any of this. She leaned over and put her folders on the corner of his desk, then stood to make her escape. “I have to go.”

  She made it to the door before Jack reached her and she hadn’t even heard him move.

  He put a gentle hand on her arm. “Wait—”

  Erin could feel him behind her—the heat and danger. His body barely touching hers. He didn’t need to do any exercises to make his voice more appealing, at least not for her. The deep sound was soft, sexy and seductive. A single word had her hesitating.

  “I need to go.” She turned and caught her bottom lip between her teeth.

  Jack’s eyes darkened with intensity and he blew out a long breath. “When you do that— God, Erin—”

  “What? I’m not—”

  He touched his lips to hers and she realized this was the definition of irony. Half her mission was accomplished. He was using his mouth, all right, but not for talking.

  One thing was clear—she hadn’t gotten over the attraction she’d felt the first time she saw him. This man, this awesomely hot guy, was kissing her. Miss Nobody. The touch was soft and sweet, and suddenly getting enough air into her lungs was a challenge—in the best possible way. It was hard to think straight, but one thing she knew for sure—this extremely wonderful, mind-boggling moment could end in a heartbeat so she was going to enjoy the heck out of it while she could.

  She pressed her body to his, stood on tiptoe and slid her arms around his neck. He groaned again against her mouth, but she could feel the vibration in his chest, which was pressed to hers. His fingers slid into her hair, cupping the back of her head, and he cradled her in a way that made her heart race.

  With his arms wrapped around her he half lifted her and moved a step, backing her against the door. She could feel his muscular thighs, her breasts snuggled to his broad chest and—oh, God—how much he wanted her. Her!

  She brushed her palm over his cheek and jaw, smiling at the way his stubble scraped her hand. “Jack—”

  “No—” He braced a forearm on the door and studied her with dark, smoky eyes. His breathing was ragged and she sensed he was just barely holding on to his control. She slid her hand down his chest and to the belt of his jeans, tugging his T-shirt from the waistband.

  He put a gentle hand over hers. “That’s a dangerous game you’re playing.”

  “What if I don’t care and want to play anyway?”

  “If you were smart you’d walk out that door.”

  “That was my plan.” She could barely get the words out, what with having so much trouble breathing. “I’m not the one who prevented me from leaving.”

  “Yeah. About that—”

  She touched a finger to his lips, stopping the words, and stared straight into the raging storm in his eyes. “Don’t you dare say it was a mistake. I don’t want to be someone’s blunder.”

  “No. Not you.” He hung his head for a moment, then his gaze blazed into hers. “It’s me. I’m not a good risk. This isn’t smart—”

  “You’re telling me the sensible thing is to stop this right now. And frankly that just made up my mind.”

  “Good. It would be best—”

  “Stop right there.” She jabbed her index finger into his chest. “I don’t want to come to my senses. Just once I want to do something without planning it to death. No more making a decision because it looks good on paper. Live life to the fullest everyone says. Grab on with both hands and enjoy it. Without regrets.”

  Erin knew with every fiber of her being that if she walked away now she would deeply regret it forever. For a long moment Jack studied her and she felt as if she could reach out and touch the conflict churning through him. Finally he sighed, and she was almost sure he’d surrendered.

  Jack took her hand and the lead, heading toward the doorway that led to the bedroom. Stopping by his desk, he opened the bottom drawer and pulled something out of a box. She caught a glimpse of a square packet and realized it was a condom. Thank goodness he’d been thinking because she was still in not-coming-to-her-senses mode, the one where rational thought wasn’t allowed.

  He tugged her down the hall into the bedroom where she’d spent her first night under his roof. It was dark outside now, but he didn’t turn on the light. There was enough coming from the hall. As soon as they were through the doorway, he kissed her with a desperation that matched her own. With his mouth and hands on her, all she could think about was how good this felt.

  He stopped long enough to drag his shirt off in one easy, quick movement and she tried to do the same with hers. But the material got hung up on her hair and Jack seemed eager to help her out, then tossed her shirt into a shadowy corner of the room. With the light to his back, she couldn’t see his eyes when he cupped her breasts, but his hands were shaking slightly.

  He brushed his thumbs over the tips of her plain white bra and she wished for an estrogen miracle that included pretty, feminine underwear. Kissing her neck and shoulder, he reached behind her and unhooked that plain white bra, letting it drop to the floor between them.

  He straightened and settled his gaze on her, drawing in a quick breath. His voice was a little hoarse when he said, “Pretty.”

  Somehow lacy lingerie didn’t seem quite so important all of a sudden. She rested her palms on his chest and wanted to say something, but she had no idea what. Instead, she just felt...the dusting of hair. The contour of muscle. The taut abdomen. It gave her a moment of pure clarity—the last one for a long time.

  Lacy, matching bra and panties didn’t make a woman feel feminine. What did that was the way a man touched her. A gentle, commanding caress that activated every nerve ending in her body and made her hormones snap to attention.

  Slowly he backed her toward the bed and when she felt the mattress behind her legs, she kicked off her shoes and sat. He dropped to one knee and undid the button at the waist of her jeans. Without conscious thought, she lay back on the bed and let him draw the zipper down, then lifted her hips so he could slide off her pants.

  A moment later he dragged off the rest of his clothes and slid in beside her, pulling her into his arms and kissing her into a frenzy of need.

  His fingers traced the edge of her panties as he slipped his hand between her legs, not quite touching her where she most wanted to be touched. Then he hooked a thumb into the waistband and dragged them off. When he touched her where she wanted him to, she arched her hips and shamelessly pressed herself into his palm, where he cupped her.

  His breathing grew increasingly harsh until finally he left her long enough to take the condom out of his jeans pocket. He put it on, then kneeled on the bed, gently nudging her legs apart before covering her naked body with his own. He took most of his weight on his forearms so as not to crush her. The warmth and sheer wonder of being skin-to-skin washed over her.

  With one hand he brushed the hair away from her face. “You’re looking at me like that.”

  Like she had the first time they’d met. And he was looking back, his eyes dark with heavy-lidded desire. No man had ever looked at her like that before. The realization shattered her control and she reached for him, arching her hips again, letting him know she wanted him.

  He slid inside her slowly, deeply. It was a delicious sensation as she felt herself close around him. He rocked into her and she wrapped her legs around his waist, hanging on for dear life as she came apart in his arms.

  He held her close as pleasure rolled through her, tremors in its wake. When they stopped, she pressed her mouth to his neck and nibbled kisses down his chest. With a groan from somewhere deep inside, he buried his face in her hair as he thrust one more time and followed her into release. She held him as he’d done for her and they stayed locked in each
other’s arms for a long time. Frankly, Erin didn’t ever want to move, but that wasn’t an option when her stomach growled. It was dinnertime.

  Jack smiled tenderly. “Someone needs to be fed.”

  “Something tells me I’m not the only one.”

  “I’m not saying you’re right, but with my training I can get by longer on less.”

  “Nuts, berries and bugs?”

  “If necessary,” he agreed, his lips twitching.

  “Gosh darn, we’re fresh out of survival provisions.”

  “Bummer.”

  “What about steak, baked potato and salad? If it would make you feel better I can lie and tell you I picked the greens in the forest.”

  His stomach rumbled right on cue. “As you might imagine, I don’t much care where the greens came from.”

  “Okay. Then you have to let me up.”

  “Roger that.” Surely there was reluctance in his eyes.

  Before she could decide whether or not it was real or imagined, he rolled away and grabbed his clothes off the floor before leaving her alone. The sound of the bathroom door down the hall was her cue to get up and she dressed as quickly as possible.

  A few minutes later they were both back in his living room/office. Erin noticed that the bottom drawer of his desk wasn’t all the way closed. She glanced at Jack and saw that he’d been looking in the same place. After her remark about survival rations she must have provisions on the brain because she couldn’t resist asking. “Office supplies?”

  “There’s a legend in the writing world that a well-stocked office makes one a better writer.” He lifted one broad shoulder in a shrug.

  She’d seen that shoulder without a shirt and the simple, masculine gesture was now a major turn-on. That was her signal to leave. “I’ll go get dinner started.”

  “Okay. Meet you downstairs.”

  She nodded and walked out the door. If she didn’t miss her guess, he had no desire to talk about what just happened. That worked for her. The problem with coming to your senses was the return of rational thought.