by Brux, Boone
Gods, he was so damn sexy. Now that they’d made love, the images of him naked and turned on came unbidden. She slowly rose and leaned toward him, making sure to push her boobs together and give him an eyeful of cleavage. Her lips stopped a breath away from his. He didn’t retreat. It would be so easy to kiss him. The vibe he projected seemed to beg her to, as if he wanted her to take the choice out of his hands. But then it would still be her doing the pursuing. She coyly nibbled on her bottom lip. His eyes focused on her mouth and then slid lower to her chest. His breathing hitched. She had him. He was definitely interested. Now to pull the carrot away.
“You can’t make love to me for hours, tell me I’ll always be yours, then decide it was a mistake and still believe you have any say in my personal life.”
He retreated a few inches. “You’re making a mistake.”
“Then…” She reached out and zigzagged a fingertip along the vee of exposed skin on his chest. “Do something about it.”
It took another few seconds for Tor to regain his composure. His Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed, and his lips parted a fraction. The beat of her heart quickened. Would he admit they should be together?
Then the moment passed, and he straightened. “That would be an even bigger mistake.”
Disappointment crashed around her but she held it together. With a shrug, she smiled and lowered herself into her chair. “Then business as usual.”
It looked like he wanted to say more, but instead he exhaled and shoved his hands in his front pockets. “Exactly.”
“All righty, then.” She folded her hands together and smiled. “If you don’t have any other work-related tasks for me, then I need to put together the notes for your afternoon meeting with legal.”
“Of course.” He backed toward his office. “I’ll let you get to work.”
“Thank you.” The elevator door swung open again and a short man wearing a camera around his neck stepped out of the elevator. He lifted the camera to snap off a couple of shots.
“Can I help you?” In no way did Tor’s tone convey his willingness to assist the man.
The whirr of the man’s camera sounded several more times before he lowered it and pulled out a small notebook. “Herbert Longberger from the Inquisitor.” He held his pen at the ready. “Is it true Miss Triano is pregnant with your child?”
“What?” Nikki jumped to her feet. “Who told you that?”
Without saying a word, Tor strode across the office and manhandled the camera from around Herbert’s neck.
“Hey.” The man swatted for his camera, but Tor held it out of reach with one hand. “That’s private property.”
“As is Kythera Cosmetics.” Tor glared at Herbert. “I could have you arrested for trespassing.” With one hand he maneuvered through the camera’s settings and deleted all the pictures at once. “I suggest you leave—now.”
“I got a tip you and your assistant had a bun in the oven.” Herbert stopped his flailing, a greasy smile turning up the corners of his mouth. “Care to comment?”
“Who told you that?” Nikki rounded her desk to stand next to Tor.
“I can’t give up my sources.” The man’s gaze tracked to Nikki’s belly. “You don’t look pregnant.”
“Because I’m not, you idiot.” She knew exactly who the paparazzo’s informant was. It looked like she’d be commencing Operation Butt Sweat-Unibrow after all.
“But you two are in a relationship—right?” He pointed a stubby finger at her and Tor. “I know what I saw when I walked in.”
“What you saw was me and my assistant talking about today’s schedule.” Tor shoved the camera into Herbert’s stomach and moved forward, crowding the man back into the elevator. “Leave.”
Nikki picked up the phone and dialed security’s extension. “A short man with a camera and an ugly yellow jacket will be getting off the elevator in a minute. Please escort him from the premises and make sure he doesn’t return.”
She pressed the phone back onto its cradle, not waiting to hear the guard’s answer. Tor reached in the elevator and punched one of the buttons. As the doors slid shut, he released the camera and stepped back, sealing Herbert inside.
“Can you believe the nerve of some people?” Nikki plopped back down in her chair.
Tor turned and stared at her. “You’re not, are you?”
She furrowed her brow. “Not what?”
“Pregnant.” He approached her desk. “You’d tell me, wouldn’t you?”
“No, I’m not pregnant.” Though now that he said it, she supposed she could be. They’d used protection in the elevator, but the rest of the night had been free loving. “This is one of Demetria’s tricks.”
“But—” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “You’d tell me if you were, right?”
Would she tell him? The thought of having Tor’s child sent a thrill through her, but a child wasn’t the reason she wanted him to be in a relationship with her. In an effort to avoid directly lying to him, she answered his question with a question. “It would be a little difficult to hide, don’t you think?”
He was silent for a few seconds and then nodded. “All right.”
Nikki watched Tor turn and walk into his office. A pent-up breath escaped her chest, and she collapsed onto the back of her chair. She couldn’t be pregnant—could she?
…
Numbness stole through Tor. The thought of Nikki possibly being pregnant with his child was something he hadn’t contemplated. What kind of father would he make? A horrible one, he was sure.
With no role model when he was growing up, he didn’t have the faintest idea how to raise a child. He shook off his growing fear and took a seat at his desk. Nikki was right. This was one of Demetria’s tricks. He’d known she was going to do something, but spreading rumors about Nikki being pregnant was even more devious than he believed she could be.
Tor’s thoughts turned to the new creative director and his interest in Nikki. Sure, Creed was a hell of a nice guy, but interoffice romances rarely worked out. Never mind the fact that she was a demigoddess. How did she plan on handling that little bit of information?
Unable to sit still, he rose and walked to the windows. He stared out, lost in his thoughts, but saw nothing beyond the glass. She’d seemed dead set on having a relationship with him after their night together.
How could she switch her feelings over to Creed so easily? It just wasn’t like Nikki to go off with the first man she met. That thought gave him pause. How would he know what she was and wasn’t like? He’d never taken the time to get to know her. Not really. Big deal, he’d remembered her favorite color had been green at one time. There was no reason she shouldn’t be with a man who showed interest in her. She deserved to be happy.
He recalled what his mother had said about Nikki harboring feelings for him. If that was true, maybe hooking up with Creed wasn’t so much about Nikki liking the creative director as it was about her decision not to waste any more time pining for her boss.
Images of her and Creed laughing together, of him making love to Nikki, of her moving on with her life, turned Tor’s breakfast sour.
He tapped his hand against the outside of his thigh. Well, there was nothing to be done about it. He’d given her his opinion, and she had politely declined. She was justified in telling him he didn’t have any right to meddle in her life since he’d insisted they keep their relationship strictly business. Only Tor wasn’t sure that’s what he wanted anymore. Perhaps his mopey indecision was a residual effect from the Ambrosia. Hopefully in another day or two his body would adjust and his moods would sort themselves out.
Work always made him feel better. He needed something to focus on instead of the temptation sitting in the outer office. He slid into his chair and opened a few documents he needed to finish before his meeting. As CEO of Kythera Cosmetics, there were a thousand things he needed to finalize before the grand gala in less than two weeks.
A new e-mail popped into his in-box.
It was from Creed. The message was labeled “Prelim. Shots—Nikki.” He clicked on the message and opened the attachment. Dozens of images spilled across his screen. He stared openmouthed at the gorgeous selection Creed had chosen to send him. They ranged from sultry to playful. The camera loved her, and Tor couldn’t look away.
One by one he enlarged the photos, mesmerized by the radiance the shots had captured. Creed had been right. Nikki was the perfect face for the Goddess line. He scrolled through the pictures, examining each one, getting lost not only in the excitement of the campaign, but in her very image. Over the past three days he had learned more about her than he’d known the entire six years she’d worked for him. That thought shamed him a bit.
He’d tried so hard to not get caught up in the world of gods and goddesses, not to bring his personal life into his business, that his job had become his personal life.
When was the last time he’d smiled with the same joy Nikki radiated in her playful shots? It had been a long time. Well, not that long ago. The night they had spent together gave him a kind of joy he’d never felt before. Maybe it had been from the Ambrosia, but the emotions he remembered during their lovemaking felt right.
Nikki popped her head into the office. “It’s noon. Is now a good time to go over the contract?”
“Perfect.” Tor clicked out of the attachment and pushed away from his desk, surprised how long he’d been staring at the photos. “Come on in and shut the door.”
With her leather portfolio tucked against her chest and her phone in the other hand, she entered his office and closed the door. It took all of Tor’s willpower not to stare. She’d ditched the nondescript jackets and had opted for a more revealing style that still maintained an air of professionalism. Whether she’d changed to torture him or to impress Creed, he didn’t know.
The clingy pink fabric of her blouse stretched tight over her perfectly shaped breasts. Tor remembered how they felt in his hand and how her nipples pebbled under his touch. His cock tightened against his pants, but this time he knew it was from genuine desire. Standing up right then was a bad decision. He shifted and leaned forward to hide his growing erection as she took the seat on the opposite side of the desk and crossed her insanely long legs. More blood made a beeline to his crotch, making him harden even further.
“Why don’t we order lunch in?” He scooted his chair forward and picked up the phone receiver to call the executive dining room. “What would you like?”
“Oh, good idea. I’ll have a number seven, no cheese, extra mayo, salt and vinegar chips—be sure to tell Gino not to send those nasty ones he feeds the visitors—and an iced tea.”
Tor couldn’t help smiling. He liked that she ate. Not every woman with her figure could. “Is that all?”
“Oh, and if he has chocolate pudding cake, I’ll take a piece of that.”
He placed the order and hung up. “They said it would take about fifteen minutes.”
“We probably won’t have time to eat later.” She looked at her watch. “We’ve got an hour before the meeting with legal.”
“Let’s get started then.” He pulled her contract from the top drawer. His sexual impulses had settled a bit, making it easier to concentrate on her contract. He slid the paper across the desk. “This is your copy.”
She took the documents and began reading, nodding as she went along. Every so often she would stop and point to a sentence, asking what the clause meant. For the next fifteen minutes they poured over the basic contract and hashed out a few of the issues she had reservations about. By the time a knock at the door sounded, heralding their lunch, they’d completed nearly all of the three pages.
“Come in,” Tor called.
Gino, the chef from the executive dining room, rolled in a cart laden with food. His round face and ruddy cheeks made him appear to be in a constant state of happiness. “Miss Nikki.” His slight Italian accent gave his voice a singsong cadence. “I brought you an extra big piece of pudding cake today. Perhaps you will share with Mr. Stephanos, no?”
“When have you ever known me to share my cake, Gino?” She stood and walked to the cart, bending to inhale the chocolaty aroma.
The chef laughed. “Never.”
Tor’s gaze instantly traveled to her round, firm butt, reawakening his urge to throw her on the couch, hike up her tight navy skirt, and have his way with her. Instead, he crossed his legs but didn’t look away.
She straightened and did a half turn to look at him and wink. “I might make an exception today.”
Gino laughed again. “You must have done something nice, Mr. Stephanos. Miss Nikki never shares.”
“Can’t blame a girl for liking chocolate,” she said. “It’s in my blood.”
The chef walked to the door, chuckling. “Just ring when you’re finished and I’ll send someone for the dishes.”
Nikki picked up a potato chip and bit. “Thank you, Gino,” she said as she crunched.
He waved a hand in the air with a silent “you’re welcome” and pulled the doors shut. Nikki pushed the cart over to the seating area. With her usual efficiency, she pulled the cherrywood coffee table closer to the couch and set out the food. Then she sat, looked at Tor, and patted the couch next to her.
A thousand times he’d sat beside her and talked business. Why did it seem so much more intimate this time? He rose and took the seat next to her. She flipped open a napkin and laid it across his right knee, and then shoved his Cobb salad closer to him. Even when she didn’t realize she was taking care of him, she took care of him.
Thankfully, Nikki directed their conversation to questions concerning her contract, making it easier to sit so close to her. A couple of times their arms or thighs brushed, but she didn’t react. Tor couldn’t help but wonder if Creed being in the picture had anything to do with her abilities to soldier on, seemingly unaffected by their closeness. The thought made him want to punch something.
She picked up a spoon and dug a healthy scoop of chocolate pudding cake out of the monstrous block Gino had given her. Tor couldn’t tear his gaze away from her mouth when she opened and slid the spoon inside. Her eyes drifted shut and her lips closed around the soft sweet. She pulled the spoon free and chewed a few times before swallowing. Her eyes opened and her tongue flicked out to capture the drizzle of chocolate sauce on her lower lip. Then she turned to him and smiled. “That is so good.”
“It looks like it.” He smirked. “Rather, you look like you’re enjoying it.”
“Do you want a taste?” She dipped her spoon back into the cake.
Yes, but he wanted to lick it from her lips. “No, thank you.”
“Come on.” She held the spoon up to his mouth, cupping her hand below it to catch any escaping crumbs. “You’ve got to try it.”
Her green eyes sparkled, teasing him. He couldn’t help but respond to her playfulness. Slowly he opened his mouth. A small blob of chocolate dropped onto her palm as she brought the spoon to his lips. He slid his mouth over the cake and dragged it from the spoon. Her eyes watched him, their pupils dilating.
The mood between them shifted from playful to heated seduction in a nano second. He sensed her arousal, heard her short breaths, and felt his desire stir again. Whatever willpower he’d had melted with that one bite of cake. He grasped her hand and lifted her palm to his mouth. With deliberate slowness, he licked the chocolate from her palm.
“What are you doing?” Her question came out as a whisper, almost as if she was afraid he would stop.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” He kissed her palm and then laid a trail of tiny kisses to her wrist. “I’m helping you eat your cake.”
“Oh, because it looks more like you’re seducing me.” Her voice sounded stronger, more sure. Would she stop him? Would he stop himself?
“Do you want me to quit?” He’d reached the crook of her arm and nibbled the sensitive skin toward the inside of her elbow. “Or should I continue.”
He scooted closer, lifting her hand
to rest on top of his shoulder. Inch by kissable inch, his lips crept along her arm. She didn’t pull away. Didn’t move at all. Just sat, watching his sensual trek. When he reached her upper arm, he made a graceful transition to her collarbone.
Her body reclined against the back of the sofa, allowing him full access to the swells of her breasts. He cupped her, and strummed his thumb across her nipple. The peak stiffened.
She dragged her fingers through his hair and arched her back toward him. “I thought we were supposed to keep things professional.”
Tor undid the first two buttons on her blouse, revealing a powder-pink bra. “We’re negotiating your contract.” He pulled the lace down and slid his tongue across her nipple. “I think it’s going very well so far.”
“Oh.” The single word came out as a moan. “That’s nice.”
Spurred on by her obvious approval, Tor pulled the tight bud into his mouth and sucked. Her fingers tightened around his head, holding him steady. She smelled like tangerines and tasted even better. His fingers caressed her knee and slipped under the hem of her skirt, working their way upward under the tight material. She shifted and lifted her rear end, allowing him to push her skirt up around her thighs.
“Tor, we shouldn’t do this.” Her knees parted, granting him access and neutralizing her protest.
They should stop. Everything he had said he didn’t want to happen was happening, but just as he thought that, his fingers brushed the soft satin of her panties.
“Do you want me to stop?” The question was asked purely out of consideration. He didn’t think he could halt even if he wanted to. He hooked his finger on the underside edge of her panties and slid his finger upward. “Just say stop, and I will.”
Lie.
“Stop”—her breath panted from her—“and I’ll kill you.”
He lifted his head and smiled. She threaded the fingers of one hand through his hair and dragged his mouth to hers, practically devouring him. Her other hand caressed his arm, encouraging his fingers to continue on their original course.