Caroselli's Baby Chase

by Michelle Celmer

  “We should call a medium,” Elana said.

  “As opposed to a small or a large,” Mark joked, but no one laughed.

  Elana rolled her eyes. “Like the one on that cable show who talks to the dead.”

  “I’ve seen that show,” Terri said. “But isn’t she in New York?”

  “Long Island,” Elana said. “I wonder if there’s a reputable one in Chicago?”

  “Or maybe you need an exorcist,” Mark joked, the weight of his arm making her shoulder ache. It seemed that now he was leaning on her more for support, to stay upright.

  “Whatever it is, I don’t think it’s evil,” Carrie said, shifting away, only to have him lean more heavily on her. She glanced over at Rob. He laughed at something the Asian woman said, then kissed her cheek.

  Yep, she was definitely on her own tonight. She tried not to let herself feel too disappointed. It would have ended Sunday anyway.

  “We should have a séance,” Elana suggested. “Do they still sell Ouija boards? I used to have one when I was a kid. Until Nonna found it and freaked out. She was very superstitious.”

  “Did you ever actually talk to the spirits with it?” Lisa asked.

  “We used to pretend we did to scare each other, but I’m pretty sure everyone was moving the little plastic thing on their own.”

  “Whatever it is down there, maybe disturbing it would be a bad idea,” Terri said.

  And because she was the one who lived there, Carrie added, “I agree. I have no problem sharing, as long as it stays in the basement. I’ll stay out of its way if it stays out of mine.”

  She had that feeling of being watched, but when she turned to look at Rob, his attention was on his companion. All this talk of ghosts and the supernatural was making her paranoid.

  The weight of Mark leaning on her shoulder was not only uncomfortable, but it was also starting to grate on her nerves, and his cloying aftershave was giving her a headache. At the risk of him falling over, she swiftly ducked from under his arm. He teetered, then caught his balance on the edge of the counter.

  “Bathroom?” she asked Terri. She didn’t have to go, but she needed a minute or two of fresh air.

  “Down the hall on the left,” Terri told her, “and if that one is busy, there’s one in my office and another in the master bedroom, through the closet.” She lowered her voice and said, “If Mark is annoying you, just tell him to back off. He’s a decent guy when he’s not drinking. Unfortunately, that isn’t very often.”

  In that case, Carrie was less worried about hurting his feelings. The last thing she needed or wanted was another alcoholic in her life, complicating things. “Thanks, I will.”

  As she headed down the hall, her phone started to ring. She checked the display and saw that it was Alice. Again. Out of guilt she had been avoiding her calls. She would talk to her next week, when she could honestly say that she wasn’t sleeping with Rob. It was just too difficult to explain.

  The first bathroom was occupied, so she tried the door on the right at the end of the hall and found herself in the master bedroom. Feeling a little weird being in someone else’s bedroom, she crossed the room and walked through the closet to the bathroom. She stepped inside and was about to close the door, when someone on the other side pushed it open. She felt a sudden stab of alarm, thinking it was probably Mark. But it was Rob who stepped inside.

  * * *

  “You startled me,” Carrie said, a hand pressed over her cleavage, in the exact spot he wanted to bury his face.

  “Were you expecting Mark?” Rob asked, closing and locking the door behind him. “You two were looking awfully cozy.”

  She folded her arms and stuck out her chin. “Jealous?”

  “Not at all, because we both know he’s not half the man that I am.”

  “Maybe I think he is,” she said, but her eyes betrayed her, just as they had in the kitchen, when Mark was hanging all over her. He could tell that she was as annoyed as he had been.

  “No, you don’t. That’s why you couldn’t keep your eyes off me.”

  “What are you doing in here anyway? Shouldn’t you be out talking to your girlfriend?”

  He paused for a second, then said, “Don’t worry, she’ll be along in a minute. All three of us disappearing at the same time would be way too obvious.”

  All three of them? She blinked, then glanced at the door. “That had better be a joke.”

  “What’s the matter?” he said, walking toward her, grinning when she backed away from him. “You don’t like to share?”

  “You’re not funny, you know.”

  “My ‘girlfriend’ is Megan.”

  “Okay.”

  “Megan Caroselli. My sister.”

  She blinked again, looking confused, then said, “Oh.”

  “My adopted sister.”

  She nodded and said, “Okay,” as if it suddenly made sense.

  He stepped closer, backing her against the countertop. “I like that you were jealous, though.”

  “I was not jealous,” she said, jutting that chin out again.

  He wasn’t buying the tough act. “You want me,” he said.

  She rolled her eyes. “Could you be more arrogant?”

  He grinned, reaching up to cup her cheek in his palm, swiping his thumb across her lower lip. All he’d been able to think about since he showed up at her place was getting her out of her clothes and back into bed. Staying away from her all evening, pretending he wasn’t lusting after her, had been torture. And apparently he hadn’t done a very good job of hiding his feelings where Nick was concerned.

  Nick had cornered him about an hour ago and said, “Why don’t you go over and talk to her?”

  “Who?” Rob asked.

  “You know damn well who. You two can’t keep your eyes off each other.”

  He didn’t see any point in lying to his cousin. “She doesn’t want people to think we’re involved.”

  “Anyone with eyes and half a brain is going to eventually notice that you two are lusting after each other. Hell, the temperature in the room rises a good ten degrees when you get within five feet of each other.”

  Rob honestly hadn’t realized it was so obvious, and had been diligent about not going near her or even looking at her for the past hour or so—which had been a lot more difficult than he would have anticipated. Especially when Mark started to put the moves on her. But it seemed as though the more Rob ignored her, the more he lusted for her. When she finally brushed Mark off, Rob had been about ten seconds from punching him in the nose. And though he hadn’t actually planned to follow Carrie to the bathroom, his feet had carried him there.

  “We can’t do this here,” Carrie said, yet when he leaned in and kissed the side of her neck, she put up zero resistance. “Someone will hear us.”

  “We’ll be quiet,” he said, nuzzling her ear, breathing in the scent of her perfume. “You smell good.”

  “Rob, stop.”

  He should have cared who heard, but he didn’t. He turned her so she was facing the mirror, watched her over her shoulder. “Say that like you mean it and I will.”

  “I mean it,” she said, but he could tell that she didn’t. She just didn’t want to admit it. Didn’t want to let down her guard and surrender herself to the desire that was eating them both alive.

  He reached around to cup her breasts, squeezing the firm mounds. She moaned and her eyes rolled closed. Her hands fisted stubbornly rather than touch him, but they didn’t push him away either. He couldn’t be in the same room with her for very long without putting his own hands all over her. Which could be a major problem come Monday when they were forced to work together.

  He pulled her against him, grinding his erection against her backside, and when she still wouldn’t give in, he shoved his hands up under her sweater. He freed her from the lace cups of her bra, and as he palmed her bare breasts, she lost it. She moaned and slid her hands up, hooking them around his neck, pulling his head down for a hot and hung
ry kiss. He yanked the hem of her miniskirt up her thighs, growling when he saw her bare bottom and realized she wasn’t wearing panties.

  “I didn’t have a clean pair,” she said, which they both knew was a lie.

  “Sure you didn’t.” He slipped a hand between her thighs, watching her in the mirror as he stroked, as her cheeks flushed a deep crimson. “Still want me to stop?”

  She clearly had lost the will to fight, grinding her ass against the front of his jeans. “Make it fast, before someone realizes we both disappeared.”

  He unfastened his pants, pulled out the condom he’d put in his pocket and rolled it on. He bent her over the vanity, grabbed her hips and slammed into her. She cried out and bucked her head back, bracing her hands on the vanity edge, meeting him thrust for thrust. Never before had he been so rough with a woman. In his mind women were soft, delicate creatures who required the utmost sensitivity. But with Carrie…he didn’t even know how to put it into words. He wanted to dominate her and…take her. Make her scream in ecstasy, surrender her body and her mind to him. Her soul. And the more she resisted, the more determined he was to break her.

  Their difference in height was making his calves cramp up and throwing off his concentration. He turned Carrie around to face him, lifted her up off her feet and pinned her against the wall next to the shower. Her legs clamped around his hips, nails dug into his shoulders as he thrust inside of her. She murmured encouragement, words like “harder” and “faster,” and a few others that he would never use in mixed company. She let him know exactly what she wanted, and how she wanted it. And he couldn’t stop now if his life depended on it. Some repressed, primal need had taken over, was driving him past the boundaries of decency. He wanted to put his hands all over her, make her writhe and scream and beg him for more. He’d been with his share of women, yet until that night in her hotel room, he’d had no idea that sex could be so intensely erotic. That he could not just want a woman, but need her. In a way that was so primal even he didn’t understand it. For a man who thrived on staying in control, being trapped under the spell of a woman, especially one as independent as Carrie, was a place he had never imagined himself. And as hard as he tried he couldn’t seem to fight it.

  Hell, he wasn’t even sure that he wanted to anymore.

  When he had reached the absolute limit of his control, as sweet release pulled tight in his groin, Carrie smothered a moan against his shoulder and shuddered in his arms, her body clamping around him like a vise, milking him into ecstasy. His orgasm was so intense and draining, his legs so shaky afterward, he had to set her down for fear of dropping her on the hard tile floor.

  They were both sweaty and breathless, and crimson blotches stained Carrie’s cheeks.

  “What is the matter with us?” Carrie said in a harsh whisper, tugging her skirt back down. “We just had sex in your cousin’s bathroom.”

  “I know,” he said, cleaning up before he zipped himself back into his pants.

  Carrie adjusted her bra, tugging the cups back into place. “And you don’t see anything wrong with that?”

  “I’m just as baffled by this as you are,” he said, tucking his shirt in.

  “So what are we going to do about it?” she demanded, finger-combing her hair, smoothing away the just-had-sex look.

  “Well, right now, I’m going to walk back out to the living room. After a minute or two you’ll follow me. You’ll tell me you aren’t feeling well, and ask me if I’ll drive you home. I’ll roll my eyes and act indignant, then we’ll leave and go to your place. And when we get there we’re going to do this again, only this time we can make as much noise as we’d like.”

  She paused to consider that for several seconds, and must have determined that it was a good plan, because she gave him a not-so-gentle shove toward the door and said, “What are you waiting for? Get out there.”

  Nine

  The most intense sexual experience of Carrie’s life was officially over.

  Or so she and Rob had established this morning before he went home to get ready for work. And now, as she walked from the cab to the Caroselli building, after spending nearly twenty-four hours together in bed with him, they had to make everyone believe that they were nothing more than coworkers. At first she didn’t think it would be a problem, because she didn’t even like him—which she couldn’t deny was what had made him so appealing. As a rule she didn’t date nice guys. In fact, she avoided them like the plague. She dated jerks. Men who treated her like crap.

  Rob seemed to have so much “creep” potential, but then everything had changed. Not only could they burn up the sheets together, but she was beginning to suspect that he was a genuinely nice guy. Under normal circumstances she just wouldn’t see him again. If he called or texted, she would ignore him until he got the hint and gave up. That wouldn’t be so easy with Rob. Not when she had to interact with him daily, five days a week or more, for the next three months.

  He’d even offered to pick her up and drive her to work, because it was on his way, and she’d had to gently remind him that they couldn’t be seen together outside of the office. She’d taken a cab instead, and planned, during her first free moment, to arrange for a rental or short-term lease. And because she was a novice at driving in the snow, preferably something four-wheel drive and built like a tank.

  Dennis nodded and smiled as she walked past him to the elevator and pushed the button for the third floor. Feeling just the tiniest bit apprehensive she rode up. When she entered the reception area, Sheila greeted her with a smile and said, “Rob would like to see you first thing.”

  “Thanks,” she said, returning the smile. Did Rob not realize that until he gave her a place to work, she had nowhere to go but his office?

  She walked down the hall and stepped inside his outer office, where a stern-looking secretary sat. She glanced up from her computer, gave Carrie a quick once-over and seemed to determine that she didn’t like her—or so her sour expression would imply. “Go on in, he’s expecting you.”

  Definite tension with this one, which undoubtedly meant that she was loyal to her boss, the one whose work Carrie was here to criticize.

  “Thank you, Ms….” Even though the woman’s nameplate was in plain sight on her desk, it didn’t hurt to break the ice.

  “Mrs. White,” she said, icicles dripping off each word.

  Ignoring her frosty introduction, Carrie smiled. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. White. I’m Caroline Taylor, but everyone calls me Carrie.”

  “Ms. Taylor,” she said with a curt nod.

  This one would be a tough egg to crack, but Carrie would do it. She had a way of putting people at ease, winning them over. Look how well it had worked on Rob.

  A little too well.

  Only as she approached his office door was Carrie hit with a sudden and intense wave of apprehension. Which was silly given their history. Or maybe what she was really feeling was exhilaration. She could barely go five minutes without thinking of him, without recalling the way he touched her, how he looked tangled in the sheets, ripples of muscles under smooth, sweat-soaked skin.

  But it was over now and she would just have to learn to rein in her wandering thoughts.

  Steeling herself, she knocked sharply on the door, then let herself in, melting when she saw Rob sitting there, tapping away at his keyboard, a steaming cup of coffee beside him on his desk.

  “You asked to see me?” she said, catching the subtle scent of his aftershave, wishing she could run her hand over his smooth, freshly shaved cheek. Even though she couldn’t deny that the rasp of the dark, wiry stubble he’d woken up with this morning had been a turn-on.

  Without looking up, he nodded and said, “Be with you in just one second….”

  She stood waiting while he typed a bit more, manipulated the mouse for several seconds, frowned, then started typing again. All she could see was the back of the computer monitor, so she had no clue what he might be working on. Or if it even was work. For all she kne
w he could have been updating his status on Facebook, or corresponding with his online sweetheart. Even though he swore he didn’t have a girlfriend. Maybe this would be easier if he did.

  While she waited she gazed around his office, which she hadn’t really taken the time to notice the last time she was there. In her own defense, it was tough to concentrate on the decor when Rob’s hand was up her skirt.

  The room was neat, with an unmistakable masculine feel, but not so macho that she had the urge to stuff a wad of chewing tobacco in her cheek. The dark mahogany furniture gave the space a rich, professional feel, but a collection of family photos hanging on the wall and various live plants created a casual atmosphere.

  When Rob finally seemed satisfied with what he’d typed, he pushed the keyboard tray in, rose to his feet and greeted her with a very professional “Good morning.”

  “Sorry I wasn’t here sooner. The cab was late picking me up.” She waited for him to say something about how, if she’d accepted a ride from him, she wouldn’t be late.

  He didn’t. He just shrugged and said, “No problem.”

  “What’s on the agenda this morning?” she asked, eager to get to work, to keep her mind busy on other things.

  “We have a meeting in the conference room in five minutes.” He eyed the coat draped over her arm and the briefcase slung over her shoulder. “Why don’t I show you to your office first.”

  He led her down the hall toward the conference room, the scent of his aftershave intoxicating, the casual confidence in his movements mesmerizing. She imagined that once they were in her office he would close the door and pull her into his arms. He would kiss her and tell her that he couldn’t keep his hands off her, that he couldn’t live without her and that he would die if he couldn’t have her again.

  When they reached the end of the hall, he hung a left and gestured to the first office on the right-hand side. “Here it is.”

  Not only did he not pull her into his arms, but he also didn’t even step into the room with her. He waited in the hall while she looked around.