The man was insufferable. Did he really think a smile was all it would take to make up for… everything? He probably did. It was obvious he relied on his good looks to get what he wanted, but she wouldn’t be falling for that again.
“Yes?” she asked, the solitary word sounding cold and callous even to her own ears. She definitely wouldn’t be invited to join the welcoming committee. She’d never treated a coworker, let alone a superior, that way before, but she couldn’t seem to rein in her attitude. He’d humiliated her and crushed her dreams. So what if he hadn’t known what he was doing? The end result was still the same. Couldn’t he just stay out of her hair for one stinking day so she could lick her wounds and regroup in private?
“Can we talk?” he asked, stepping through the door and shutting it behind him in one fluid motion.
For a big guy, he moved with ease. She remembered just how graceful he could be when it suited him. Heat coursed through her veins at the memory and she was thankful he couldn’t read her mind. Just because her stupid body craved his touch, didn’t mean she was going to give into the urge. Her head would win out; it always did.
“It would appear I don’t have much choice in the matter,” she returned, ignoring her lusty impulses and focusing instead on her humiliation-fueled anger. “What can I do for you this evening, Mr. Bennett?”
“Mr. Bennett?” He snorted, and much to her disdain, even that was kind of sexy. “I think we’re beyond formalities, don’t you?”
“I beg to differ. Pritchard won’t be putting my name on the letterhead any time soon.”
“I didn’t come here to talk about stationery.” He raked a hand through his hair and rubbed the back of his neck, looking uncertain for what was probably the first time in his perfect life. “Mind if I sit down?”
He crossed the small office in three long strides, not waiting for an invitation she would never extend. Smart man. He dropped into the chair across from her desk and crossed his legs, right ankle over left knee. She noted that in addition to sleek Italian suits, he favored overly polished Italian leather shoes. Somehow he pulled it off without looking like a completely pretentious tool.
Loads of money and panty-dropping good looks? No wonder he thought he was God’s gift to the X chromosome. Her gaze travelled from the pristine shoe and halfway up his muscular leg before she caught herself. She was heading toward no man’s land, and nothing good would come from it.
“Suit yourself.” Olivia sighed and leaned back in her chair. She needed to put some distance between them. Like it wasn’t enough the man was walking sex, he even smelled irresistible. His scent, ginger and spice, was teasing her senses, reminding her of their night together, and chipping away at her resolve.
“I thought we should talk about the other night,” he began cautiously. “You know, clear the air, since we’ll be working together?”
“There’s nothing to talk about.” Folding her hands, she placed them on the desk. She needed to be firm about this, make sure he got the message the first time. No way did she have it in her to have this conversation twice. “We’re both adults.”
“I wouldn’t think it’s quite that simple.”
“Then you’d be wrong.” He was trying to be diplomatic, keep things professional. That was fine with her. She didn’t need his pity. “Look, the other night was fun, but it had nothing to do with this place, right? We both got what we wanted. Now we forget about it and move on.”
“You can’t seriously expect me to act like it never happened.” Cole’s words were carefully measured, his playful smile nowhere to be seen. If she didn’t know better, she would have thought he was offended. His words flowed like silk, but his gray eyes held a different emotion as he pinned her with his gaze. Was she imagining it or did he look… disappointed?
Shifting in her seat, she tried to quell her own warring emotions. They needed to be able to work together, at least until she could figure things out. And despite her racing pulse, she didn’t want him to know how hard this was for her. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Was it her fault she couldn’t look at him without her blood pressure spiking? Or that she couldn’t stop thinking about the smoking hot kisses he’d lavished upon her body?
“And it would be so easy for you to forget?” he challenged, forcing her to remember the feel of his sinful hands claiming her body and the way he’d made her come over and over again. Damn him!
“Yes,” she lied, struggling to keep her tone light. She stood and moved to the window. It was a desperate attempt to put more space between them. The room had grown insufferably hot, a fact that had little to do with the temperature and a lot to do with the way his gaze lingered on her mouth, like he was imagining all the dirty things she could do with it. Only he didn’t have to imagine, did he? He had firsthand knowledge.
“Olivia.”
She froze at the feel of his breath on her neck. With the protection of the desk gone, she was defenseless. His hand snaked around her waist, crushing her body to his. He leaned in, his breath hot on her cheek as he pressed her body to the cool glass of the window with his massive weight. His arousal found the swell of her ass and she melted against the hard muscles of his chest, an unexpected gasp escaping her lips as desire ripped through her. It was all the invitation he needed.
He turned her to face him, tipping her chin toward his lips. His mouth descended upon hers without hesitation, his tongue savagely forcing her lips apart. The five o’clock shadow she found so sexy scratched the tender flesh of her face once again, marking her. It was a deep kiss, the kind of sensual exploration she’d craved her whole life. The feel of his tongue sliding over hers, probing and thrusting, left her yearning as she rotated her hips, angling for a deeper connection. The cool glass at her back did little to regulate her temperature as Cole lifted her skirt, his hand sliding up her thigh with the promise of explosive pleasure.
She whimpered with anticipation when his hand reached the top of her leg and shifted. His palm pressed to her center with just enough pressure to send her body into overdrive. Unable to stop herself, she rotated her hips again, savoring the friction their joining created. The divine sensation did little to satisfy the growing need between her legs. If anything, it ignited a fresh spark of desire even greater than the last, tearing through her body like wildfire.
When he delved inside her panties and stroked her slick flesh, Olivia was sure she’d lose her mind. Hell, she’d give away her sanity freely for just one more sinful stroke. And the sentiment must’ve been written all over her face because he quickly obliged, trailing a skilled finger down her center and sinking it deep inside her. She moaned with pleasure and was rewarded with another. Her body tightened around him, tensing for release with each thrust of his hand.
His mouth angled over hers, muting the sounds of her breathless cries. Spiraling toward climax, she clutched the soft fabric of his jacket, anchoring herself in the moment. He used his weight to pin her pulsating hips to the window and slipped his fingers deeper, hooking them toward the spot that was sure to send her soaring.
“You feel so fucking good,” he groaned, a deft hand slipping from her neck to find the hardened nipple of her breast. “I want to make you come so hard you’ll never forget it.”
Shit. Panic seized her. What was she doing? What were they doing? The whole point of this discussion was to forget about sex with Cole, not fall into his arms again with the promise of an unforgettable orgasm. An orgasm she was certain he could deliver if he put his mind to it.
“Stop,” she panted, pushing him away and sucking in a deep breath. This man was practically her mortal enemy. She could not let him seduce her again. Correction. She didn’t want him to. “We can’t do this.”
“Why not?” he asked, flashing her that wicked grin. “As you so smartly pointed out, we’re both adults.”
“I’m serious. Play time is over,” she insisted, sidestepping out of his reach and straightening her skirt. “From here on out, it’s all business.”
Guilt tugged at her as frustration flashed in his eyes. Whatever chemistry they had was irrelevant. He was no longer a wild one-night fling. He was the boss, the man who’d stolen her freaking job. He’d just have to figure out how to keep it in his pants because this was one round he wasn’t going to win. She might not have control of her professional future right now, but she could sure as hell control who she had sex with.
Cole scrubbed a hand over his face, as if trying to erase the memory of their hot and heavy make-out session from his mind.
“All right, sweetheart. There is one more thing I could use your help with, then.” His words were clipped, all business now. Relief filled her. She could handle business, preferred it in fact. If they never had to talk about that night again, she might just be able to do this. “I expect to be included in all strategy meetings and pitches moving forward, so I’ll need complete files on your top ten accounts. I’d like them on my desk tomorrow morning.”
Cole stood and stalked out of the room without a backward glance or another word. His rigid shoulders spoke volumes though. He was definitely pissed off, although it hardly seemed fair. She was the one who would have to forgo a date with Mr. Bubble in order to meet his deadline.
Hoping to find a stray bottle of Tylenol for her blossoming headache, she checked her drawer one more time. No such luck. It was going to be a long night.
Chapter Seven
Cole observed silently as Olivia circled the room, eyeing each of her team members over the top of her glasses. She said nothing as their pens flew over the pages in front of them, furiously scribbling notes in their tablets. She had asked them to gather in the conference room for a brainstorming session, so there they sat, gathered around the table, flexing their creative muscles.
In a few minutes they’d be vying for her approval and the opportunity to lead the Mama’s Muffins advertising campaign. It was a unique approach, but he was more interested in the end result. He was anxious to see what they’d come up with for Mama’s. Better yet, the exercise gave him a chance to study Olivia in her element. She was basically ignoring him anyway, so he figured he might as well look his fill while her attention was focused elsewhere.
Her brow wrinkled in concentration as she read over the shoulder of a junior associate. Whatever the kid had written down, his chances of leading the campaign didn’t look good. When she leaned down and whispered in his ear, any sympathy Cole felt for the guy vanished.
If anyone got to feel her breath on their cheek, it should be him. Of course, he’d prefer her panting in the throes of orgasm, but he was hardly in a position to be picky since she was doing her damnedest to pretend Friday night had never happened.
Try as he might, he couldn’t figure her out. She was smart, gorgeous, hyper-driven, and unlike any woman he’d been with before. He was used to working with, and dating, shrewd women who flaunted their femininity and flexed every female wile they’d been given to get ahead. Only she wasn’t like that. She seemed determined to downplay the physical aspects that might otherwise give her an advantage in the office.
Cole had been around the world of advertising a long time, and if there was one thing he knew for certain, it was that sex sold. It sold products, services, and campaigns. And yet Olivia did everything she could to neutralize the fact that she was a woman. More power to her, he supposed. He respected her integrity, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t a mistake.
Today she wore a black suit with red accents and a pair of sensible black heels. Black was the single most boring color on the planet as far as he was concerned, but it worked for her, the tailored suit hugging her body in all the right places. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail again and she wore minimal makeup. Cole frowned. Was she trying to mask her beauty in blandness? If so, she’d failed miserably. With her delicate features, the natural look worked just as well as the black suit. Of course, a little color in her cheeks would do wonders, and he knew just how to elicit that response, if only she’d let him.
As if sensing his thoughts, Olivia jerked her gaze up to meet his. He smiled and received a tight-lipped frown in return.
“Time,” she called, prompting several groans from the group. She tossed a black marker to the guy she’d been whispering to. “Jack, you take notes today.”
Jack scrambled to the front of the conference room, nearly tripping over his own two feet. He pushed a crop of unruly blond hair from his eyes and prepared himself to jot down the ideas of his peers on the dry-erase board mounted on the wall.
Cole couldn’t decide if the kid was an overachieving kiss-ass or a genuinely awkward human being. With two left feet, a red bowtie, and wire rimmed glasses, the latter seemed like the obvious answer. There was no doubt Jack was smart. Pritchard wouldn’t have hired him otherwise, but did he have the fire in his belly to do the job?
“All right, people, let’s see what you’ve got,” Olivia said.
“From our kitchen to yours, Mama’s Muffins are baked with love.”
“Fresh from Mama’s oven, you’ve never had a muffin this good.”
“Mama’s Muffins: because even mamas need a break sometimes.”
“Got muffins?”
“Nothing says lovin’ like Mama’s Muffins.”
“Who’s your Mama?”
The ideas just kept coming, flowing like word-vomit, each one worse than the last. Cole shook his head in disgust. He couldn’t believe his ears. These were some of the most experienced and sought after agents in the city, the finest Pritchard, Bennett, & Associates had to offer, and this was the best they could do? Any minute now they would break out singing Kumbaya and indulge in one big, happy, fucking love fest. It was nauseating.
“Keep them coming, people,” Olivia encouraged, although Jack and his not-so-magic marker were struggling to keep up. She scanned the room, passing Cole over once again. He cleared his throat, refusing to be shut out any longer. He had a job to do, after all, one that he suspected wasn’t going to earn him any friends, and would surely make him a few enemies. It wouldn’t be the first time, but he hadn’t gotten where he was by worrying about what other people thought.
“If I may,” he offered, rising from his chair and approaching Jack. He held out his hand for the marker and the kid froze, his gaze swinging wildly from Cole to Olivia. If this was all it took to rattle the guy, he had no business representing PBA. The kid looked like he wanted to curl up under the table in the fetal position. “Olivia?”
With a look of annoyance, she nodded her head, signaling Jack to relinquish the pen. He returned to his seat at the table and Cole uncapped the marker, ceremoniously crossing out every suggestion the team had made. And damn if it didn’t feel good.
“Excuse me, what exactly are you doing?” Olivia asked, stalking to the front of the room where she stood toe-to-toe with him. Her blue eyes flashed, and he could feel the tension emanating from her body. Mission accomplished. He had her undivided attention now.
“We’re starting fresh,” he explained, a smirk hitching up the right corner of his mouth. “Pritchard, Bennett, & Associates owes the client our very best, and this isn’t it.”
“With all due respect, my team and I have been working the Mama’s Muffins account for years,” she returned, a tight, fake smile plastered on her face, “and we understand their needs quite well.”
“You’re kidding, right?” He knew he was treading in dangerous territory, but he couldn’t help himself. Seeing Olivia flushed and excited? He wanted more and he knew just how to get it. If she didn’t want to talk about their night together, they could talk about her other favorite subject: work. “‘Nothing says lovin’ like Mama’s Muffins?’ If this is the best we can do, we should all pack our bags and get the hell out of New York.”
The room fell silent. No one spoke. No one moved. He wasn’t even sure they were still breathing. So be it. He could wait them out. Besides, it was the most fun he’d had all day.
“All right, then.” Olivia turned on her heel and r
etreated to the table where she perched on the end, legs crossed. “You’ve been on the account now for what, twenty minutes? Dazzle us with your insights.”
Cole pocketed the marker, stripped off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves, taking his sweet-ass time as he collected his thoughts. “Mama’s is a New York icon and like New York, Mama’s should be edgy, slick, and sexy.”
“Those muffins are about as sexy as my Nana riding bareback,” Olivia quipped, drawing a few snickers from her team.
So they were still alive after all. She crossed her arms over her chest, looking pleased with herself.
“Maybe that’s the problem,” he returned, feigning confusion. She was going to take the hard road, he realized. It didn’t matter what he suggested, she was predisposed to disagreeing.
So much for starting fresh.
Well, if she wanted to do things the hard way that was fine by him. He’d never backed down from a fight in his life. Not even when facing a pissed-off blonde with a vendetta. “How many New Yorkers do you know that aspire to a frumpy, muffin-induced carb coma?”
Olivia shook her head. “Doesn’t matter. Mama will never go for it.”
“We’ll never know if we don’t try.” He reached around Olivia and grabbed a file off the table. She flinched instinctively, leaning away as he invaded her space. It didn’t matter. The scent of her perfume, a light floral blend, filled his nostrils and nearly derailed his focus as he recalled the last time he’d been this close to her. “According to the notes I have, her family is moving into position to take control of the company. It may not be Mama making the decision this time.”
“Regardless, it’s extremely risky. You’re talking about sexing up their family business.” She emphasized the word “family” as if a jackass like him couldn’t possibly grasp the concept. “We need to stick with what works.”
Once Upon a Dare Page 5