Conflict of Interest (Employee Relations Book 1)

by Teresa Michaels

  “Best birthday ever.”

  I nearly faint when he casually wraps his arm around my waist like he’s done it a hundred times. Against my back his heart is beating just as fast as mine. I don’t question it though. Instead I lean into him and rest my head against his chest.

  Warmth spreads throughout my chest to the point I think it might explode, overwhelming me in the best possible way. The underlying sexual tension is present as always, but this blatant tenderness is new.

  We move high above the city. Lucas points out landmarks. Buckingham Palace is the easiest to spot, and then of course there’s Big Ben. All these wonderful historical places but all I can see is our image in the window and how perfectly we fit together.

  Thirty minutes later our ride ends and we take a cab back to the hotel.

  “Tonight was amazing. Who knew you had it in you,” I tease on the ride up the elevator.

  “It’s not over yet. Get changed and come over.”

  I dash inside my room, tossing on a pair of black shorts that I bought the day after the air conditioning fiasco and a hot pink tank top. I open the adjoining door and shriek. An ice cream sundae station is set up in the corner of his room.

  “What do you think?”

  “Are you kidding me? This is perfect.”

  Lucas sets the comforter out on the floor. Following his lead, I grab a few pillows and position them against the bedframe at the foot of the bed. He hands me a bowl and gets in line behind me. There are so many options I have trouble deciding where to start.

  “It’s not going anywhere, you can have as much as you want,” he assures me.

  “Good point.”

  I step forward and make my choice.

  Salted caramel ice cream and hot fudge topped off with a cherry. I take a seat and Lucas hands me a glass of wine and the remote to the TV before settling next to me. I find a show and before long my bowl of ice cream is nearly gone.

  “Thank you again for making my birthday special.”

  “I’m glad I got to celebrate with you.” His eyes twinkle. “Now that I think about it, I don’t think I ever properly thanked you for making my birthday so special.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Whack.

  A spoonful of ice cream lands on my forehead and slides down my nose, landing on my chest. With my hand I scoop up the melting slop from between my breasts. “What the hell was that for?” I screech.

  Whack.

  Another glob hits the side of face and ear. I gasp and shift to my knees. Lucas is too busy laughing to defend himself. I launch myself at him, taking the liquefied remnants of ice cream in my hand and mash it into his face and hair.

  “You did not just do that,” he says as we fumble to the ground.

  “But I did,” I snort. He tries to pin me down but I quickly roll to the side and sprint to the corner, grabbing a pint of ice cream from the table and the hot fudge.

  It’s a full-on ice cream battle.

  “Give up, Gabriella, you won’t win,” he teases holding out his bowl and getting to his feet.

  “No way, McCarthy.”

  “What are you going to do? Spend the night in the bathroom?”

  I scan the area looking for anything of importance to him. His nicely pressed shirts hanging in the closet are as close as I’ll get. Judging from how he takes care of all of his belongings, there’s no way he’d risk getting it dirty. “Nope. Taking hostages.”

  He narrows his eyes and tilts his head to the side. I pull a handful of his shirts from their hangers and drape them over my shoulder. I can’t help but double over at his glare as I slip one of my arms in and then the other. It’s so big it hits well below my shorts.

  “Hand those to me and take that one off, Gabriella,” he warns, taking a step toward me.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” I side step toward the open door to my room, tightening my hold on the container of ice cream and his shirts. “Don’t come any closer or I’ll rub my face all over these and douse them in chocolate.”

  “You’ll never make it,” he says watching me carefully.

  A nervous giggle escapes. He’s right, but it doesn’t mean I won’t try. I flick the spoonful of ice cream at him and dart through the open door, running straight toward my bathroom.

  I should have known his long legs would outbound mine but it’s still a surprise when his strong arms wrap around my waist and throw me onto the bed.

  Ice cream and hot fudge land in a pile of his shirts, covering them. There’s no doubt I’ll pay for this but I couldn’t care less.

  Lucas isn’t nearly as amused. He straddles me and pins my hands over my head with one hand and tickles me with the other.

  “Oh, my God, stop! Stop!” I plead, laughing so hard I’m gasping for air.

  “I warned you, did I not?” he taunts.

  I squirm to get out of his reach but he’s too strong. “Uncle…uncle!”

  “I’m not your uncle, Gabriella.”

  Trust me, I’m fully aware.

  “It means truce,” I squeal.

  “Truce? You stole my shirts. They’re wrinkled and probably stained.”

  I laugh harder. God, he’s such a neat freak. “They definitely are,” I strain to sit up the few inches it takes and press my forehead to his chest, and drag it back and forth against the material of his shirt. “And now this one is too!”

  Lucas’s eyes darken. He tightens his grip on my wrists with one hand, forcing me flat on my back once again. I’m so amused with myself that I don’t notice his other hand until it’s too late.

  “Missed a spot,” he says, mashing a handful of ice cream across my forehead and eyes. I gasp at the same time his long fingers smear the cold glob over my nose and lips, earning me a mouthful. He stares down at me with a smirk. “Happy birthday.”

  Before I can answer another handful is smashed into my hair. “Lucas, when I get up—”

  “You’ll what?” Too much ice cream rests on my eyes to get a clear view of his face but the mocking tone of his voice tells me he’s got me right where he wants me. “Apologize for using my shirt as a napkin? Hand wash and press the pile of them?”

  “Ha! Dream on.” I can’t help it. I know I’ve lost. Doesn’t mean I’ll give in easily.

  “Apologize,” he demands.

  I swallow and lick my lips. “Lucas, I am so sorry…not!” I pull my arms attempting to get them loose.

  “As someone who’s covered in melting ice cream and is immobilized, you’re not in a position to goad me. Ready to admit defeat?” he asks.

  “Not a chance.”

  I squirm and buck my hips hoping to dislodge him and manage to get one leg free. Placing my foot on his shoulder I push with all my might. I raise my hips again but he doesn’t move an inch.

  “Gabriella,” he warns.

  “Come on, it’s dripping down my neck. You’re wasting good dessert.”

  Rather than let up, Lucas shifts. All of his weight now rests on me, pinning me against the bed. I stop and become aware of the compromising position we’re in, mainly because his erection is pressing against my core.

  “Can’t have that now can we?”

  Lucas leans forward and licks the ice cream from my chin. His tongue trails up my jaw toward my ear where he sucks the lobe and playfully bites it. The air crackles between us as the mood shifts from playful to desire. My eyes close. Moaning, I press my head backing to the mattress and arch my back.

  Please don’t stop.

  As if he heard my unspoken plea Lucas drags his lips down, following the trail of chocolate that’s pooling at the base of my neck, and sucks. He shifts, releasing my wrists and slowly drags his hand down my arm to my breast, palming it through my shirt.

  Lucas grabs the hem of my shirt and lifts it over my head where he leaves it, as if he can’t be bothered to take it off all the way. That’s about all the thought I give it though as a cold sensation between my breasts has my full attention. I lift my head off
the mattress just enough to watch Lucas push a scoop of ice cream to my right nipple with his tongue. I watch captivated as he swirls it around before taking both the melting ice cream and my hardened nub into his mouth.

  “Lucas,” I moan.

  He glides the remaining ice cream across my chest and concentrates on my other breast. “These,” he licks again. “These are the perfect shade of pink.”

  He lowers my leg from his shoulder and grips the waistband of my shorts as he sits up and pulls them down my legs along with my panties. He slides his hands down my thighs and pushes my legs apart.

  I’m completely exposed.

  His breath hitches as his thumb traces my seam. For the love of God, I am literally giving him the money shot.

  I flush under his scrutiny and attempt to snap my legs shut. Lucas stops me.

  “Each time I get another piece of you, whatever part it is,” he pauses and shakes his head as if he can’t find the words. “You just keep getting better. Don’t hide yourself from me.”

  If he keeps talking like that he can do whatever he wants. I relax my knees as another round of dessert lands on my body, this time on my stomach.

  Lucas sinks further down the bed and the magnitude of what we’re doing hits full force.

  “Lucas, we can’t.” It’s a weak protest at best. “What are we doing?”

  “Having dessert,” he replies.

  He guides the ice cream from my belly button to my center where it dissolves under the heat of his swirling tongue. This is such an intimate gesture I consider asking him to stop but I can’t bring myself to speak words that aren’t more, please or yes.

  My hands tangle in his hair. Not because I need him to change pace or location, I need something to hold onto, to ground me from overstimulation and this recklessness.

  I could lose my job.

  His tongue plunges inside me causing me to clench my thighs against his head. I need to stop this. And I will, right after…oh…oh yes. Lucas sucks on my clit and presses a long finger inside me. He’s either an expert at this or the last month was all the foreplay I need.

  Spasms grip my body.

  “Oh, God. Lucas, I’m…I’m.”

  Stars dance in my eyes as jolts of pleasure spiral from deep within. He doesn’t let up until the quivering subsides, not that he has a choice given how tight I’m gripping his hair and holding him firmly in place.

  He licks my centers one last time. “Like whipped cream on a Sundae only better.”

  He crawls up my body and settles between my legs. “I need you, Gabriella,” he says with a desperation that matches how I feel. “We’ll go back to whatever we are after. Just let me have you once. Let me give you what you really want.”

  Just once.

  Once will never be enough, yet it’s the only option we have. “Yes.”

  His lips press against mine, urging them open with his tongue. I almost forgot how good his lips felt against mine. His erection presses into me through his pants and I’m suddenly fumbling to unzip them. Shoving his pants and boxers down his legs as far as I can reach, I free his hardened length and stroke.

  Wow.

  He’s big.

  Maybe too big.

  Lucas unclenches my hand. “Stop or this will end before we get started, and personally I’d like to take my time.”

  “Get a condom.”

  “Fuck,” he growls bowing his head. “I don’t have any.”

  “What? Why not?”

  “Because this wasn’t exactly what I had planned.”

  “Find one. Call room service or…or what about the store in the lobby.”

  He pushes up and checks the time. “Shit. It’s almost eleven o’clock, I doubt they’re open.” He picks up the phone and presses the button for the front desk.

  “They close in seven minutes.” His clothes are on in record time. “Don’t move,” he says, pointing at me.

  I blink once and he’s out the door.

  Chapter 13

  Gabby

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  “That’ll be £3.12.”

  I hand the clerk my card and glower at the three pack of condoms. Will that be enough? Maybe for now. Tomorrow’s a whole different story. First thing in the morning I’m finding a pharmacy and getting the economy pack. She’ll have to see the sights another time. If I have my way, we won’t be leaving the hotel room. Maybe ever.

  With a shit-eating grin stretched across my face I grab the small brown paper bag and jog to the elevator.

  Cloud nine has nothing on me. Tonight has been hands down one of the best nights of my life. I’ve tried like hell to avoid what’s going on but now that it’s happening I have no plans of stopping. I just need to convince her of that.

  “I thought that was you.” A familiar voice stops me dead in my tracks.

  Like a child I want to pretend I didn’t hear my father’s words and continue on upstairs. It’s not like he could do anything about it. I’m an adult. Not being a part of my life was his doing, and I shouldn’t have once ounce of allegiance.

  Shouldn’t.

  I spin to face him, wanting him to see that I’m not the kid he gave an ultimatum to; I’m a grown man making my own way in life, no thanks to him.

  “Are you so desperate you need to scour hotels for your latest fix?” I pose.

  He throws his head back and cackles. “My boy, I do miss your sense of humor.”

  “I’m not your boy. What are you doing here?”

  “I’m on business. Saw you having dinner with a lovely woman and felt compelled to find you.”

  “Yeah, well I’m on business too. In fact, I need to get back.”

  “Ahh, mixing business with pleasure?” I don’t have to follow his gaze to know that he’s connected the dots. What else would a man be buying at nearly midnight in a hotel lobby store anyway? If anyone would know it’d be him.

  “Something tells me this is more than a coincidence.”

  He smirks. Some well-paid crony of his probably updates him on my every move. No wonder he knew I’d moved to Boston.

  “I’ve been calling you for months.”

  “You’ve got one minute to tell me what you want and then we’re done. No more calls, or stalking me in a hotel lobby. We’re done.”

  “Start the clock.”

  The doors to the elevator open and I step into the hallway. Twenty minutes ago I rushed to the lobby, hating that I had to leave the room. Now I’m dreading what waits for me when I cross that threshold.

  I can’t do it.

  I let myself into my room and quietly shut the adjoining door. Then I take out my phone.

  “Where’d you go, back to Boston?” Gabriella giggles.

  My head thuds against the door connecting our adjoining rooms. “Not quite.”

  “Was that you?”

  “Yes. I’m in my room.”

  I can hear the mattress dip as she gets off the bed. Christ, I told her to stay put and she did.

  Her footsteps get closer. “Don’t,” I grab the handle as it starts to turn.

  “What’s wrong?”

  I sigh and look down at the box of condoms.

  “They were out,” I lie. “And I know myself well enough to realize my limits, Gabriella. If you open that door we both know what’ll happen and the risk isn’t one either of us should take.”

  Gabriella exhales so loud I’d hear it through the door had we not been on the phone. “It’s fine, Lucas. Just because sex is off the table doesn’t mean you can’t open the door. Did you consider I might want to reciprocate?”

  My dick perks up immediately begging me to change my mind. I want to punch my father more for fuck
ing up my night than I have for all the shit he’s done in the past.

  “We’ll talk tomorrow, alright?”

  “Lucas?” she asks and I hate the uncertainty in how she says my name.

  “Yeah.”

  “Are you sure that…I mean…did I do something?”

  “If I could go back in time I’d be more prepared. I promise you, this has nothing to do with you.”

  She’s silent long enough for me to know she’s not convinced. If I’m lucky enough she’ll let me make it up to her tomorrow.

  Chapter 14

  Lucas

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  I wake up to the comforting aroma of coffee but remain unmoved, convinced that if I lie here long enough the feeling of rejection and my hangover will become a distant memory. I try to wrap my mind around what happened last night.

  Note to self: no good decisions are ever made drunk…on alcohol, lust or dessert.

  I’m almost certain my parents told me a version of that at some point before I left for college, but for whatever reason that lesson didn’t stick with me into adulthood. Or at least not where Lucas is concerned.

  Sleep didn’t come until the early hours of morning after Lucas put a stop to my birthday celebration, not that it mattered if I slept ten hours or two. My mind was spinning even while unconscious.

  Lucas wasn’t rude or unkind like I’ve come to expect; quite the opposite. He was level-headed and mature. Exactly how I should be acting because, hello, it shouldn’t have happened at all. Still, the way things came to an abrupt end isn’t sitting well with me. Something about his tone and the way he refused to let me down face to face felt like he was preoccupied by something other than me.

  I roll over in bed, hugging my pillow and replay his words over and over again. We’ll talk tomorrow. Not pick up where we left off…talk. And that was after he flat out refused me returning the favor. If that doesn’t send a message I’m not sure what would. This is like when he scolded me for kissing him at the bar only a million times worse.