Negotiating Point

by Adrienne Giordano

  * * *

  Gavin nearly bawled. What the hell was he doing? Actually, he wasn’t the one doing it. He stood letting her do it. Totally sandbagged. As much as the upstanding guy inside him wanted to convince her, and himself, they were coworkers and shouldn’t do this, he couldn’t get the words out. Not even a syllable.

  Struck mute by an erection, that’s what he was.

  After a pain-in-the-ass day of arguing with the knuckle-dragger and dealing with the emotional barrage of Roxann being snatched, maybe he did need a tension buster.

  Why not? For the past three weeks he’d thought about nothing but making love to her.

  He hadn’t counted on it being in a dusty old barn, but maybe this was the way it should be. They’d been confined all day, trying to reunite a loving couple and dealing with the emotional crap that came with it. Now they were alone with nothing to do but kill time.

  Let’s kill time.

  Decision made. He stepped to her, eased his arms around her and held his breath. At that first bit of contact he hesitated, tried to calm his rioting brain and take it all in because, yes, they were going to do this and he was going to let it happen.

  Maybe it would be more than a quick lay. Maybe he’d get lucky and this crazy hunger he’d been trying to bury for three weeks would change his life in a way he’d never anticipated. A good way, a promising way he wanted to explore. Yep, he needed to capture and catalogue the crazy gut-squeeze that came with his hand molding so perfectly over her hip, and the way her tiny body curved into his larger one, the way his body flashed hot then cold when she touched him. With her, all the extremes descended on him at once.

  He bent low to kiss her. Jeez, she was a little bit of a woman, but that didn’t stop her from angling her mouth over his, her tongue darting in and out in a blazing assault. The little bit of a woman had a monster-sized libido.

  Jackpot, brother.

  Within seconds, she stepped back, tore her shirt over her head and tossed it. The bra went next and he found himself staring at the perfect proportions of her small, amazingly torturous breasts.

  Whatever you do, don’t break her. That’s what he worried about? Breaking her? How about risking your job, Mr. Sexual Harasser?

  Her pants went next and she hopped around on one foot kicking out of them, making him grin while he tore his shirt over his head. Horndog that he was, the sexual harasser wasn’t just going for it, he was damned near willing to beg.

  She paddled her hands. “We should make it fast, right?”

  “Afraid the knuckle-dragger will walk in on us?”

  “Oh, my God! That would be hilarious in the most disgusting way imaginable. His eyes would bleed.”

  “Maybe we’ll take our time.”

  The snorting sound she made should not have been attractive, in any way, but—hell’s sake—everything about her made him smile. This tiny woman with the giant heart and funny quirks made him want nothing more than to be with her night and day. He could spend every available minute enjoying her. That’s how easy being around her could be.

  “Gavin, quit staring and strip. Tick-tock. I really don’t want my boss seeing me naked.” She threw her hands out, her face scrunched. “Ew! That would be bad. I’d be my own reality show. Smart girl gone ultra-stupid.”

  And now he flat-out laughed. “Are you always this talkative when you’re about to get laid?”

  “If my boss is about to walk in? I’d imagine so. Get those pants off.”

  Gavin did as he was told and kicked out of his pants.

  “Yay,” she said, making him laugh again when she wiggled her fingers at him. “Come to Mama, sweetheart.”

  “Seriously, you have to stop with that. It’s creeping me out how turned on I am by it.”

  And then she jumped him. Literally. Jumped into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist and kissing him in a full-out assault that had nothing to do with patience and everything to do with lust.

  Any chance he had of backing out dissolved into a puddle of his own need—hell, he was a guy—and he carried her to the cot while shoving her underwear over her butt. Damn he liked how she felt against him. All that warm, soft skin. He tossed the crappy cot mattress to the floor and set her down while she wiggled out of her underwear and he dug a condom from his wallet.

  “Yay!” she said again, hooking her hand around his neck and dragging him on top of her. “We can go slow next time.”

  Next time. “Yay!” he mimicked.

  Chapter Four

  When Gavin pushed into her, a giant, engulfing tornado looped around her, sucking her into its vortex. After all the lectures she’d inflicted upon herself. Here they were, going at it like farm animals. In a barn. How appropriate.

  She wouldn’t fool herself into thinking they were making love. Maybe this crazy heat between them would only be sex in the purest, hottest, neediest form, but that was okay.

  Sometimes, like right now, it was just fine.

  At least she thought so. And then he slowly slid out of her and she opened her eyes, smiling up at him smiling down at her. “Are you teasing me?”

  “I hope so.”

  She clamped her hands on his butt. “I’m small but I’m mighty.”

  Then he kissed her, all soft and warm and slow and her brain melted. A quick flash of what used to be a smart girl who had done the one thing she swore she would not do.

  But, oh, oh, oh, she hadn’t counted on wanting Gavin Sheppard and dreaming of him the way she had since that amazing first kiss.

  And she began to tremble from the force of all that emotion bombarding her, making her want more and more and more.

  She wanted this always. With him.

  Stop thinking.

  Yes. She had to. All this coming undone, thinking about the ways her career could end and yet, at the moment, it would all be worth it. It felt that good. Never before had it felt that good.

  He touched her face, just a light slide of three fingers over her cheek and something cracked—an insane snapping inside her head—and she pulled him tighter into her.

  So good.

  The pace quickened and that crazy snapping whipped through her body. More.

  In a rush of grunts and murmurs they dove over the edge together, Janet clinging to him, almost afraid to open her eyes. It might, in fact, all be a dream. Or, depending on how she looked at it, a nightmare, because after this, she would no doubt be chasing him around the office.

  With her pants down.

  She cracked up. So stupid, Janet. Funny, but stupid.

  But then his breath hitched and he kissed the side of her head and she did open her eyes.

  Fantastic.

  Delight swarmed her and she grinned up at the ceiling. “I would like more please.” So much more.

  Gavin let out a heavy breath. “Insatiable, are you?”

  “Never before. Apparently with you I am. Is that a problem?”

  “Not in this lifetime.”

  But then he eased off her, dropping a kiss on the tip of her nose, then her lips. “I adore you. Even if you accuse me of sexual harassment.”

  She shoved him off with a laugh. “I think I was the harasser. Totally guilty.”

  “But I loved it.”

  Their gazes met for a split-second, two people riding the high of a couple of healthy orgasms. Janet rolled sideways to retrieve her scattered clothing. If she did it fast enough, maybe they could forego the whole wow-we-shouldn’t-have-done-that routine.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  She slipped her bra on, trying not to stare while Gavin retrieved his pants. “You have no idea how great I am. I shouldn’t feel this good. Not with Roxann in trouble, but I’m not going to overthink it. Let’s just get her out of there.”

  Janet took her seat, slid her headset on and forced herself not to think about the potentially colossal mistake she’d just made. Not that the sex wasn’t swoon worthy, but hello? She’d broken her most important career girl rule and boffed an ex
ecutive. Worse, she wanted to do it again.

  Many times.

  Smart girl successfully turned stupid. In record time.

  “Yeah, well,” she muttered. Too late to worry about it. Besides, it was fun.

  Gavin picked up his headset to call Joe Smith. “What?”

  She looked at him. “What, what?”

  “You said something.”

  “I did?”

  He laughed. “Yes.”

  She nodded and went back to her laptop to see if she could find and hack into Joe Smith’s bank account. Why not? “I’m dandy.”

  He set his hand on her shoulder. “Are you freaking out again?”

  And, oh, this man.

  Sexy.

  Galore.

  “It’s sinking in. I mean, I don’t do this and now I’m afraid you think I’m the reverse unslut.” The reverse unslut? What the heck? Lost my damned mind. Total emotional vomit. Or maybe she was simply terrified of falling in love with him.

  He shook his head and laughed. “I don’t think you’re the reverse unslut. Although, I’m not sure I understand what that is. What I think is you and I have chemistry that rumbles a house and we need to figure out what to do with it. You don’t want to be the reverse unslut and I don’t want to be the executive who hounds female employees.”

  “This was more my doing than yours.”

  He held up his hand. “It doesn’t matter. We don’t want people gossiping, so let’s table the discussion until we get Roxann released. Okay?”

  “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

  “Nothing to be sorry about.” He waved a hand between them. “I don’t see us as a bad thing. I just don’t know how to handle it. Yet.”

  Welcome to Awkwardville. She motioned to the throw phone. “We can figure it out later.”

  After I hang myself because I can’t stop chasing you around the office with my pants down.

  Gavin initiated the call to Joe. That fast he’d switched gears. Amazing. Janet adjusted her headset and settled in to listen and take notes.

  “Joe?” Gavin said into the phone. “How was dinner? Everything quiet there?”

  “Yeah,” Joe said. “Where are we on Mr. Spelling’s release?”

  “We’re working on that. The Banner has confirmed they received your article. They’re looking at it.”

  Not a total lie on his part.

  “By the way, Joe, is there anyone you need me to call? Anywhere you should be? Family maybe?”

  Maybe she shouldn’t be feeling smug, but Gavin was so playing this guy. Going down, sucker.

  “Uh, no. I’m good.”

  “No family?”

  “I…uh…have a son. He’s with my mother now.”

  Going. Down. Sucker.

  “A son. That’s awesome. I don’t have any kids. Always wanted them, but haven’t found the right girl yet.”

  I could be that girl. But she didn’t dare look at him. No siree. She would keep focused on her notes. If she looked at him now, she’d not only be the smart girl turned stupid, she’d be nominated for president of the nonprofit organization Stupid Girls Unite.

  “My son is nine,” Joe said. “Plays Little League baseball. Kid loves baseball.”

  From the corner of her eye, she glanced at Gavin, kicked back in his chair, arms folded across his chest like this was just a casual chat. And yet, hadn’t they just talked about him playing catch with his dad? The man’s ability to compartmentalize ranked right up there with Michael’s.

  “Oh, hey,” Gavin said. “I can relate. When I was a kid all I ever wanted was to throw a ball with my dad. Maybe shag some flies. Nothing better than that.”

  I could love him. She shook off that potentially life-bombing thought because really, she shouldn’t be sitting here imagining him playing catch with their children. And who said they were having more than one?

  Pay attention! She smacked herself—hard—on the head and Gavin looked over, his face twisted.

  Sorry, she mouthed and he nodded.

  I accept the presidency. Thank you.

  “You know what though, Joe?”

  “What?”

  Gavin slowly leaned forward, a panther bearing down on his prey. “What do you think your son would want you to do now?”

  “Huh?”

  “I think he would want you to walk out of that house, right? My dad was gone by my fourteenth birthday and you know what? I never got over that. Do your son a favor and come out of there before someone gets hurt. No one is hurt. What you’ve done isn’t all that bad. We can minimize this and your son will have his father.”

  And, God, Janet was dying inside, her heart aching for Gavin as a little boy craving his father and somehow, when she looked at grown-up Gavin, he seemed relaxed, kicked back, just shooting the bull with a buddy.

  Then he turned to her, literally shifting his body in his chair to settle that dark gaze on her and she yearned to curl into him. To soothe the suffering little boy who’d lost his father.

  He pushed the mute button on the phone. “Can you find me the son?”

  Varying thoughts slammed inside her head. Snap out of it. What was she doing? This was the game he played. His job. He probably wasn’t even thinking about his own father and she was what? Thinking they’d have some huge epiphany that she’d be the one to round out his lonely life?

  Please.

  She spun to her laptop. “Of course. I’ll track down Joe’s ex.”

  “You don’t know anything about my son,” Joe said.

  No, but he will in about three minutes.

  Gavin pushed the button on the phone again. “You’re right. But I was nine once, and I had a father I loved very much. I missed a lifetime of memories with my dad. Do you want that for your son?”

  “No, but this is important what I’m doing. Jackson Spelling doesn’t deserve to be in jail.”

  “Joe, let’s concentrate on you, and what we can do to get you out of this mess. Get you home to that little boy of yours. Can we do that?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Janet kept at the code to crack into Joe’s ex-girlfriend’s Facebook page. So close. So darned close. “Almost there,” she whispered. “Come to Mama.”

  “And how about your mom?” Gavin said to Joe. “Are you close with her? Must be if you let her watch your son.”

  “Yeah. I’m pretty close with her. She takes great care of my son.”

  “It’s gotta be tough being a single dad. I give you credit. It’s good you have support from your mom. Jeez, Joe, you’ve got a great family.”

  “It’s a decent life.”

  Gavin sat forward and stared straight ahead. “Even more reason to think about what you’re doing here. I get that you feel Jackson Spelling is being persecuted, I do. Maybe I can help you with that after we get you out of there safely.”

  “You can get us out of here by getting our leader out of jail.”

  A click sounded on the other end of the phone line.

  * * *

  Gavin snatched his headset off and shot out of his chair to walk off some energy. He eyeballed the iPod on the desk, but decided against it. “Damn. Thought I had him.”

  “I thought you did too. It seemed like you were so close.”

  He held his hands out. “That’s how it goes sometimes. You think you have them and—poof—gone.” He checked his watch. Almost 7:00 p.m. Shit. “Anything on the son?”

  “Give me one second. I’m about to grab the mother’s cell number.”

  “Excellent.”

  This woman was amazing. Made his life so much easier. And she made him laugh. Not an easy thing to accomplish lately. He grinned at her, this cute pixie of a woman who was fearless in her job and did battle with men two and a half times her body weight. His chest expanded, a huge burst of something opening up inside him and filling him with respect and adoration for someone he had no business feeling that way about.

  It is what it is. If he was anything, he was a realist. By all indicat
ions after the gymnastic sex not half an hour ago, neither one of them would be interested in running away from said situation. Yes, he was an executive and she was support staff. No, she didn’t report to him. If they handled it carefully, it could work.

  He’d make it work.

  Janet handed him a slip of paper. “Here you go. The ex’s phone number. What are you going to do?”

  He stared down at the digits, contemplated the destruction they could cause. How Joe would react to seeing his son, Gavin couldn’t guess. The pressure, the emotional warfare, might be too much. Maybe he’d commit suicide. Maybe he’d drag the kid in as a hostage. Maybe he’d turn a gun on a pregnant Roxann Taylor.

  Who knew what drove people in these situations?

  Gavin ran a hand over his head. “It’s a hip-shot.” He stopped walking, looked at Janet and imagined how it would feel if she were the one chained to a bed. Rotting, foul sickness consumed him. Decision made. “I want the son here. This guy loves his son and the kid might slap some sense into him. Emotionally speaking.”

  “It’s getting late. You may not have time.”

  “Has Vic made contact?”

  “No, but they’ll be back soon.”

  Janet slid the headset off and set it down on the desk. She leveled her hand over it and tapped her fingers. This wouldn’t be good. “Go ahead. Say it.”

  She raised her gaze to him and their eyes held. That brief hesitation, the pinched tight lips, left no doubt she was struggling to find the right words.

  The ones that wouldn’t piss him off.

  “I think you need to prepare yourself. Vic held up his end, and he’ll come in here, literally, with guns blazing. The deal was nightfall and that time is approaching. I know him. Once it’s nightfall, there will be no debates.”

  “I’m not done yet. I almost had Joe. I felt it. That’s why he hung up.”

  “I realize that, but he—they—haven’t agreed to surrender.”

  Surrender. Not a word negotiators used. Hostage takers interpreted surrendering as a negative thing. Jail. Courtrooms. Either way, it meant failure.

  But Janet was right. He didn’t have the kind of time he would need to drag this guy out of there with words alone.