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After Hours

Page 3

by Jodi Lynn Copeland


  “From the little I’ve spoken with her so far, I’d have to agree with the whole ‘great hands’ theory.” Great hands, great mouth. Great ass. He glanced over at her retreating rear end in the loose-fitting black slacks and, though he couldn’t see a thing that resembled a feminine curve, his cock responded with an impatient throb.

  As if she could feel his stare, Jilly glanced back. For just a second he caught a glimpse of the fiery woman behind the dowdy clothes and fierce hair knot, and then she masked her expression, turned her head back around, and walked out the door.

  Brendan smiled as he again regarded Larry. He listened absently to the man while the bulk of his thoughts focused on Jilly. He might not understand what it was about her that stayed in his mind, but he planned to figure it out, and soon.

  “Why do I get the impression you aren’t happy to see me?”

  Jillian looked up at the too-familiar, too-knowing, too-damned-sexy-for-its-own-good-voice to find Brendan standing in the doorway of her office. With an inward groan, she came around to the front of the desk and crossed her arms. “Perhaps because you’re intuitive. Now, can I help you with something?”

  After closing the door, he walked toward her, stopping a few feet away. “You’re mad about Saturday night, because you left?”

  She’d been about to tell him to back off and quit invading her personal space with his impossibly tasty scent. The arrogance in his words had her gasping instead. “Why would I be mad about my own leaving?”

  Jillian shook the question away, paced back behind her desk and sat down. She needed distance from his earthy scent before it began to cloud her reasoning. She’d already let that happen once, and look where it had gotten her—not only with opposition for a job she’d believed was hers, but fearing the opponent in question would use his knowledge of her weekend antics to his advantage. “Forget it. It doesn’t matter. What does matter is that you realize that…that person you met Saturday night wasn’t me.”

  Brendan looked thoughtful for a moment, then, “You have an evil stepsister who looks exactly like you? Or maybe you are the evil stepsister. The woman I met on Saturday didn’t feel the need to hide behind ugly clothes or a crass attitude. She knew she had a killer body, and wasn’t afraid to use it. She also had enough finesse to make me break my personal mantra.”

  And what was that?

  Jillian hadn’t known who he was on Saturday, but she knew now. Knew his bad-boy reputation as much as she knew his background. He was the only child of a wealthy financier, born with a silver spoon in his mouth and living life as he pleased ever since. The way he’d acted toward her at Mike and Molly’s wedding fit perfectly with his standard procedure. He was goading her by suggesting any differently, trying to get her to admit she was still interested.

  She wasn’t interested—at least, not the logical portions of her. The parts of her body that had reacted to the heat in his eyes in the boardroom were another story. They were also something she could take care of all by herself with a strategically placed vibrator.

  “I didn’t mean that it wasn’t me you met. I meant…” What? That she was usually a coldhearted bitch, or at least close enough to one that she didn’t even compare to the woman she’d shown him? It wasn’t true, but maybe if she allowed him to believe it, he would keep his distance. “Look, Brendan, I don’t plan on liking you. I also don’t plan on helping you. This is a tough business, so good luck.”

  His mouth twitched and then broke out into a grin. “Well, gee, Jilly, tell me how you really feel.”

  “Jillian. My name is Jillian!” And why did his grin have to affect her so physically? He smiled at her rudeness, and all she wanted to do was climb across her desk and attack him with her mouth. Jillian the Professional did not attack.

  Brendan’s grin disappeared. He rounded the corner of the desk and sank his hip on its edge. He was too close to her again. His scent was working its magic on her senses, not to mention every other part of her. Good God, it was like her nipples were dowsing rods, and he much-sought-after water, with the way they were pointing at him.

  She should push him off her desk. Having a woman put him in his place was bound to do wonders for his inflated ego.

  “Funny,”—his hand reached out and cupped her face before she could stop it—“I expressly remember you telling me it was Jilly. Just Jilly. Remember?” He released his hold on her face to caress her cheek. The intimacy of his touch made her feel like she was dressed in another short, red dress and thigh-high stockings instead of her current witchy wardrobe. A defiant part of her wanted to be dressed that way again, now. It was that part she blamed for sinking under his touch.

  “As I recall,” Brendan finished, “it was right before you ground your pussy against my hand and begged me to fuck you.”

  The magic of the moment burst. Jillian jerked from his touch and narrowed her gaze. She should have knocked him on his ass while she’d had the chance. She would still do it if it she didn’t need to get his promise to keep silent about her Saturday night behavior.

  Curbing her impulse to lash out at him, she drew a deep breath and said as calmly as she could manage, “I am honestly not this cold, but I’m also not the woman you met on Saturday. I’m a professional. If you’re willing to forget about what happened and treat me as a coworker, then I’ll try to like you. I won’t help you. At least, not for the next few weeks.”

  “Ah, so the truth comes out.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You’re afraid I’m going to steal your job.”

  “Please. You know nothing about the way this company runs. Besides, there is plenty enough work for the both of us.”

  “I meant Donaldson’s job. The one you’re salivating over.”

  She winced at how close he’d hit on the truth. Brendan might be silver-spoon-born and -bred, but he was also intelligent. He’d used that intellect to make his mark on the finance industry and now was barely into his midthirties and already becoming a well-known name in advertising.

  “Don’t worry, Jilly, I won’t steal your job. I plan to earn it, fair and square.” Once more he reached out to her and once more she missed the opportunity to move away until he was caressing her cheek. The heat returned to his eyes, rendering their dark brown shade nearly black. “Just as I plan to make you see what a mistake your leaving on Saturday was. A mistake I’m willing to let you remedy.”

  Jillian bit down hard on her lower lip and quelled the desire building within her with each of his lazy strokes, making her belly tight and the need to pinch her thighs together almost unbearable. That he could make her want so thoroughly with nothing more than a touch was not a good sign. It was all the more reason to make sure he never got this close again.

  She jerked away and stood to round the opposite side of the desk. “It will never happen.”

  “You’re forgetting how much I love a challenge.”

  And that, even more than his IQ, was probably what made him a success. He went after what he wanted even if he knew it wasn’t available. He might have been victorious in the past, but he wouldn’t be now. He couldn’t. Not when she’d wasted the last four years of her life acting like a merciless workhorse to attain her dream job.

  Oh, God! She wasn’t a merciless workhorse. She loved her job. Maybe she’d turned a bit cooler over the years, left behind certain facets of her personality and life she’d once considered among the better, but there was a need for it. She was still warm inside, still the real Jilly when time allowed.

  That time wasn’t now. “I realize you’re used to getting your way, so let me be the first to assure you this is one challenge you’re not going to win.”

  “I guess we’ll have to wait and see about that.” Brendan turned and started for the door.

  Jillian breathed a sigh of relief, aware that while she might be able to keep up the collected facade for a while, she couldn’t do so permanently. Not when his physical presence and the scintillating tang of his afte
rshave bothered her more than she’d ever realized possible.

  He stopped halfway to the door, and turned back. “By the way, you left something at my hotel suite.”

  “What could I have left? I didn’t have anything with me but that ridiculously tiny purse and I know I didn’t leave that behind.”

  Brendan’s grin returned. He was standing in front of her before she’d even realized he’d moved. “Actually, I was referring to this.”

  Jillian let out a gasp as he pulled her against the hard warmth of his body. And that’s all that got out before his mouth was on hers. She froze, determined to fight off the demanding kiss he was sure to give her. Only, the kiss wasn’t demanding. It was slow, sensual, impossible not to fall into.

  He nibbled at the corners of her lips. Moving gradually inward, he brushed her mouth tenderly, almost without any pressure at all. He continued that way, rubbing, caressing, moving with featherlight weight. Slowly he parted her lips and sank his tongue between them. He stroked with languorous licks and teasing darts and thrusts, inflaming the interior of her mouth even as the rest of her body exploded with warmth. Blood pitched through her limbs at a frenzied pace. Her pussy grew liquid with longing, her nipples rock hard. She responded in kind, licking, sampling, stroking his tongue with welcoming fervor.

  Brendan’s hands lifted from her arms to slide along her back. His fingers kneaded through her jacket and top, gradually coasting downward to grip her ass through her slacks.

  Oh, yes, this felt so good, so right. So like everything that was missing in her life.

  The daring part of Jillian was back in full force and she burned to keep going, to give herself over to him completely and continue where they’d left off Saturday night.

  As if he knew her thoughts, he pulled her closer yet. The hard length of his cock pressed against her belly momentarily stilled her. Then she was moving again, coaxing his tongue, sliding her hands toward his tight buttocks. Just when she would have made contact with his ass he broke the kiss, released his hold on her and stepped back.

  Brendan smiled down at her through eyes dark with lust. “As much as I hate to leave when you’re just starting to see things my way, I promised Larry I’d let him take me out to lunch.”

  The words splintered through Jillian’s racing thoughts, splashing like ice water over her heated body. She reflexively jerked away from his touch, only to realize he’d already released her. In fact, he was already leaving.

  Brendan reached the door and she opened her mouth to stop him, but she couldn’t say the words. Mostly because she didn’t know what the words were. She was feeling too much right now. Anger, jealousy, like she wanted to rush across the room, toss him to the floor and screw his arrogant brains out. Speaking wasn’t a good idea, so she just let him go.

  Jillian took a last look around for eavesdroppers, then moved into Tawny’s corner cubicle and whispered, “All right, you win. I’m scared.”

  Her friend swiveled in her chair from the ad layout on her computer screen to shoot Jillian an I told you so look. “I take it Brendan stopped in to see you?”

  “Larry asked me to show him around.” Which she’d never gotten around to doing, since the moment he’d stepped into her office she’d gone on the defensive, then subsequently turned into a puddle of mush. Her pussy tingled even now, just thinking about the feel of his delectable lips on hers. “My talking to him isn’t what I’m scared about. Neither is the effect he has on my body.”

  “But you admit he has an effect?”

  “Do I look dead?”

  Tawny laughed. “No, and you’d have to be to miss the way he looks at you.”

  Jillian had hoped to avoid talk of Brendan—at least, the attraction that existed between them—but now that Tawny had brought it up, she had to hear more. “How does he look at me?”

  Tawny rolled her eyes. “C’mon, like you can’t tell.”

  She could. She’d been hoping others couldn’t. “I don’t care. That isn’t what matters. He wants my job, Tawny.”

  “You mean Donaldson’s job?”

  “Yes!” She grimaced at the outburst and quieted again. “With his track record you know they’re going to give it to him. Larry’s already taking him out to lunch. He’s never taken me out to lunch once in the six years I’ve been working here.”

  “Larry wasn’t CEO when you signed on,” Tawny pointed out, “his father was. And I don’t think his taking Brendan out to lunch has anything to do with favoritism. Larry is fair. He’ll promote the best person for the job.” Her lips curved in a playful smile. “Now, about this way Brendan looks at you. What do you plan to do about it?”

  “Absolutely nothing.”

  Her smile vanished and she sighed. “That’s what I was afraid you’d say.”

  “We work together. Not to mention he’s my competition.” Not to mention Jillian had already done more with him than she should ever have allowed.

  She had to quit thinking with her hormones! What if someone had come into her office when she’d been wrapping herself around Brendan? She never would have lived it down, professionally or personally.

  “Not to mention he’s majorly hot for your bod,” Tawny added. “So hot that when he saw you sitting in that boardroom, he didn’t let the frump look turn him off, but zeroed in and made his intentions clear to everyone there.”

  “He most certainly did not.”

  “Oh, yes, he did, girl. There’s already an office pool going on how long it will be before the two of you hook up.”

  Damnit! She could not have this. She depended on people thinking of her as levelheaded and the woman to go to when things needed to get done. She relied on their respect and the knowledge she would never let her outside needs come before her work ones. “I already told him I’m not going to sleep with him.”

  “He’s already asked?”

  “Yes. No. Oh, hell.” Why was this happening to her? She’d stepped out of her carefully constructed professional box for one night, and as a result everything she’d worked so hard for was going up in smoke.

  “Don’t be scared, Jilly. You’re so overdue for some fun. With Brendan’s reputation—don’t think for a second I don’t know it—he’s perfect for the job. And if you happen to learn a few insider tips on the secret to his success and how he might or might not plan to leverage Larry in his direction, well, that can hardly be your fault.”

  Jillian sobered with the words, not quite believing the other woman. They’d been best friends since college almost a decade ago and never once had Tawny proposed anything so ludicrous. “You’re suggesting I sleep with him to learn how he plans to get Donaldson’s position?”

  “I’m suggesting you indulge in sex with a man who was made for the act. He wants you bad, Jilly. At the same time he isn’t going to risk losing the position. Use that knowledge to your advantage. Make things work for you. Just don’t be scared. You’re too smart, and you deserve fun in your life too much to be frightened away by the hottie who’s hungry to give it to you.”

  “Just do it,” Jillian ordered herself as she stood outside Brendan’s closed office door late Friday afternoon. “If you don’t do it now, you never will.”

  And maybe that would be for the best.

  Only, she couldn’t forget Tawny’s words. Even her friend knew how much Jillian was in need of a little fun, how it had been so long since she’d indulged her wilder side that some days she thought she might explode with the need to cut loose.

  She had to give into her needs before they took her over. As much as she hated to admit it, Tawny was right about Brendan being the perfect man for the job. He came without strings where the long-term was concerned, and she already knew he could have her panting in seconds. Then there was the matter of reliability.

  She’d been scared he would tell others about her staged personality and that she wasn’t the collected businesswoman she’d led her associates to believe. Since that first morning when he’d come into her office and kissed h
er until she was weak in the knees and damp in the panties, he’d treated her with as much professionalism as anyone could. He hadn’t so much as passed her a smile that could be deemed flirtatious.

  That didn’t stop her from being physically aware of him.

  If anything, it made Jillian want him more. Made her ache to barge into his office and demand to know why he’d stopped pursuing her. She wasn’t going to barge in. She was going to walk in calmly and lay her offer on the table. And he would accept. He would agree to her rules. He had to. Exploding on the job was not an option.

  “Jilly?”

  She jerked her head up to find Brendan standing two feet away in his office doorway. The top two buttons of his shirt were undone to reveal a sprinkling of dark, curly hair over suntanned flesh, and his laptop bag’s strap was slung over his shoulder. Wonderful. He was leaving. “Uh…oh…hi.”

  “Did you need something?”

  Did she ever. She needed to stop stammering like an idiot and move close enough to run her fingers over that deliciously exposed stretch of skin, to sink her tongue between those lips that with a brush could ignite her internal fire. She needed to say the words. “Uh, can I speak with you in private?”

  “I was about to head out for the week—”

  “In that case, I can come—”

  “—but I’m really not in that big of a hurry.” His expression neutral, he stepped back from the doorway and into his office. “Come in and make yourself comfortable.”

  She bit back a laugh. Comfort was the last thing she felt. Nervous. Wary. Like she might just explode on the job after all. Comfort? Not on his life.

  Brendan made his way across the office, set his bag on the desk and sank down on its edge. Jillian closed the door but remained where she was. She ached for him. Had been thinking of very little else but laying her hands all over his leanly muscled body since Monday morning. Okay, if she were to be honest, since Saturday night. But she had to maintain a certain level of finesse here. One that didn’t include following her baser urges and attacking him where he stood. First there were words to be said. If she could get those words out.

 

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