Slippery When Wet

by Kristin Hardy

  “Am I going to have to wait long to have a door?”

  “I’ll probably get to it in the next night or two. In the meantime, you’ll be a model boss, have the ultimate open door policy.”

  “You have to actually have a door to have an open door policy,” she said dryly.

  “Look at this as practice.”

  She snorted and turned back to her spreadsheet, absently fanning herself with a folded piece of paper. Dev ran the measuring tape up one side of the doorway, writing the measurement on the unfinished paper of the Sheetrock, where it would be painted over later. Because he was meticulous and left little to chance, he measured the other side of the doorway as well. To some contractors, a molding that ended an eighth of an inch above the floor was no big deal, especially in an office. To him, it was a matter of being a craftsman, of building the same way he’d build for himself.

  He cut the strips of metal molding to size, carrying them back over to the doorway to install them. The job just happened to afford him the perfect angle to glance in at Taylor as she nibbled on her lip in concentration. An arc of hair curved down onto her cheek and she brushed it back absently as she stared at her computer screen.

  This was a completely different person than the languid, wanton he’d been with the week before. Why was it that she only fascinated him more? In Mexico, he’d glimpsed a woman who was an intriguing mix of contradictions, part free spirit, part cautious soul, with occasional flashes of vulnerability. None of it fit with the no-nonsense professional sitting in the office in front of him, yet he found himself wanting her more than ever.

  The plan had been simple—get it out of their systems in Mexico, go at it like minks. Have fun and games until playtime was done.

  Only he wasn’t done with playtime. Every day since he’d met her, he’d woken up wanting her. Every day since he’d come back from Mexico, he’d woken alone. Watching her now had need tugging at him. Need, and a quiet certainty that they were far from finished with each other.

  PERIPHERAL VISION WAS A curse, Taylor told herself. You couldn’t see enough for it to be useful, yet there it was, a distraction. All she wanted to do was finish her billing, she thought, staring at her computer screen, but focusing on the sweep of motion in her peripheral vision included Dev. Too much Dev for her to concentrate.

  Even after he finished working on her doorway, she found herself straining to hear his movements, wondering what he was doing. When her mind wandered for the hundredth time, Taylor finally gave up and shut down her computer. The last thing she needed was to make a mistake on a corporate account.Shaking her head, she covered her computer and gathered up her things. Nope, it was time to go home. At least then she could concentrate on something besides the muscles in Dev Carson’s arms. Who do you think you’re kidding? She sighed. Okay, so whether she was in the office or at home, she’d still be focused on him. That much was a given, but it didn’t have to mean anything. Of course she was thinking of him. He was the first man she’d slept with in five years and now he was working practically in her lap. It was only natural that he’d be on her mind for a day or two.

  She grabbed the tarp to pull it over her desk and a snow flurry of plaster dust rose into the air and settled over her, making her sneeze. Lovely. Just what her best suit needed, she thought, brushing it off in irritation. She turned to the coat rack in the corner to grab her purse and overcoat. She could use another dry-cleaning bill like she could use a hole in the head.

  What a relief it would be to have the construction over with. No more mess, no more chaos, no more noise at inopportune moments.

  No more Dev.

  Key in hand, she walked up to the front of the room, skirting the receptionist’s credenza, only to find Dev on his knees in front of the door, pressing gray slate squares down onto putty. He looked up inquiringly at the sound of her heels.

  “I just wanted you to know I’m leaving. Can you lock up?”

  He concentrated on setting the last tile, then stirred his bucket of putty. “You can’t go out this door.”

  “I sort of figured that out. I leave through the parking garage anyway.”

  Dev looked out the front glass at the darkness. “I’m done here. Give me five minutes to close things up and I can walk you out.”

  “You don’t need to, thanks. I’ll be fine.”

  “You’re in downtown and it’s dark. Why take the chance?”

  The chance she’d be taking was spending any more time with him than she had to. “I don’t want to hold you up. You’re already working late.”

  He cursed mildly and rose to his feet. “It’ll take five minutes.”

  “I can walk myself out.”

  Something flickered in his eyes. “You start to walk out of here and I’ll come after you and throw you over my shoulder,” he said evenly. “There’s absolutely no reason for you to take a risk. Now sit!”

  Fuming, Taylor sat. As much as she hated to admit it, he was probably right. The parking garage exit had always creeped her out. She wasn’t leaping to step out into it alone this late at night. Of course, stepping into it with Dev Carson was hardly any safer than stepping into it with a mugger. One threatened her wallet, the other threatened her peace of mind.

  TAYLOR’S HEELS CLICKED ON the tile floor of the hallway to the parking garage, in counterpoint to the soft, metronomic thuds of Dev’s work boots. The laced up leather enticed her at some very basic level, just like watching him in his tool belt, moving around with graceful purpose.

  He pressed on the crash bar of a door, opening it into the dim, concrete cavern of the parking garage.“Where’s your car?”

  “One floor up,” she said, pointing to the elevators. When the car arrived, one of the interior lights had been smashed, leaving the car dim, with gritty glass on the floor.

  He punched the number on the control panel. “Now aren’t you glad you’ve got someone along?”

  “Look, it’s nice of you to want to be sure I’m safe, but I really didn’t need it. Quite frankly, the less time we spend together, the better. We had an agreement, remember?”

  “True. But I figured as one business person to another, we might renegotiate.”

  “Forget it. Especially not with you working here. If I’d known about it before, last week would never have happened.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure about that? It’s not like you didn’t know that I lived here. Or did you think I flew in to see you based on your reputation?”

  Her eyes flashed at him. “Clearly, I wasn’t thinking. I definitely wasn’t planning to deal with you on a daily basis when I got back.”

  “So I guess we should revise our agreement,” he said with an easy shrug. “Maybe something a little more open-ended?”

  “Dream on, Carson.” The elevator door opened and she stepped out, not looking to see if he followed. “I don’t need any more complications in my life.”

  “It doesn’t have to be complicated.”

  “Oh, get real. Nothing between a man and a woman is uncomplicated.” She came to a stop by her car, keys in hand.

  “On the contrary, it can be quite simple. Want me to demonstrate?” He reached for her.

  “Back off.” She spun to face him, her car at her back.

  “Why not?”

  “Because we’ve got a professional involvement.”

  “No, we don’t. You don’t work for me. I don’t work for you.” He reached out and fingered the wool of her lapel. “Not like the way we worked last week.”

  He was standing close enough that she could smell that elusive scent of him, a mixture of soap and shampoo and the sharpness of exertion. She shook her head to clear it. “Last week was temporary and it’s over.”

  “Why? You’re here, I’m here. We could turn up my heater and put on our bathing suits and splash in the tub, pretend we’re back in Mexico. I’ve got some extra sunscreen…”

  “There’s no point to it,” she replied weakly. Almost before the words were out,
her imagination painted a vivid, immediate image of several points, several hot, slippery points she’d be better off not thinking of.

  Dev smiled. “But that was part of the fun, wasn’t it,” he asked, stepping forward until she leaned back against the side of her car, feeling the driver’s window at her back. He didn’t touch her, didn’t lay a finger on her. He just leaned in and nuzzled just behind the point of her jaw, his lips warm against the fragile skin. “This is right where you put your perfume on,” he murmured, inhaling for a moment. “I used to watch you dress in the room and all I wanted to do was breathe it in forever, the way you smelled.”

  His lips brushed against her earlobe, then ranged over to her chin. Taylor stood, trembling, the cool of the car behind her, the heat of Dev’s body in front of her.

  “That’s when I wanted you the most,” he said, “when you were dressing. You’d put on your clothes and all I wanted to do was get them off you and have you naked.” His tongue traced her bottom lip. “You remember what it was like. You remember what it felt like in the water, when I was inside you and we were looking back at the beach, all those people lying in the sun with no idea what we were doing out there.”

  She could see it as though it were happening, feel it. A burst of desire rocketed through her. His teeth teased at her upper lip and she almost dissolved from the feel of it. And then his mouth was on hers, hard and swift. It ripped her from the chilly Baltimore parking garage and straight back to the heat and passion of Cozumel. She remembered this, oh, she remembered the silky soft feel of his mouth, the brush of his tongue, his elusive taste that made her only crave more. Half dizzy, half weak, and wholly overwhelmed, she clutched at his shoulders but merely succeeded in pulling herself closer to him.

  Arousal made her breath come fast. Her mind groped vainly for a way to anchor herself to reality. This didn’t make sense, why, she couldn’t remember. She needed to stop, to keep from being whirled away into the person she’d been the week before. The person who took chances. The person who would risk disaster if only it meant more kisses like this.

  Walk away, she told herself.

  And pulled him closer.

  He wanted, and the want tore at his control. He needed, and the need only fed on itself. If she’d told him no, if even with her body language she’d resisted, he’d have walked away. But instead, she tangled her fingers in his hair and made a sound of hunger low in her throat. And it sent him to the edge.

  He cursed the bulk of their winter clothing, ripping at his gloves to get them off so that he could touch her. The freezing air bit at his skin and he cursed. They were in a parking garage, not Cozumel, he told himself desperately, and inch by inch he dragged himself back from the madness until he could release her.

  Finally he made himself step away. “You should get home,” he said softly. “We can finish our business later.”

  Taylor raised her fingertips to her lip and blinked, slowly coming back to reality. She unlocked her car and sat in the driver’s seat. “We don’t have any business to finish, Carson,” she said, her voice not entirely steady.

  He rested a hand on the door frame and leaned down to her. “If we didn’t have any business to finish, Taylor, you’d have been gone long since.”

  10

  “OKAY, TELL ME AGAIN WHY it is that you don’t want to jump this guy’s bones?” Jody asked Taylor as they stood in line at the movie theater.

  “Well, he lied to me, for one thing.”“Not technically,” Jody objected, then transferred her attention to the box office cashier. “One, please.” She rummaged in her mock Kelly bag and pulled out a bill. “He just didn’t bring it up.”

  “That’s lying by omission,” Taylor said obstinately. “The same,” she said to the cashier.

  “Not at all.” Jody opened the door for Taylor to go in ahead of her, then headed for the concession line. “You agreed that it was all about Mexico, and that life back home was off-limits. Now that you’re home, it’s pretty clear that he still lusts after you. And you can lie to yourself all you want, you still feel the same. I don’t see what you’re in such a snit about.”

  The concession vendor gave them a brilliant smile. “And what can I get for you today?”

  Jody gave Taylor an inquiring glance. “The usual?”

  “Of course.”

  “Two Cokes, a box of Milk Duds, and a large popcorn, no butter,” Jody instructed, handing a bill to the clerk. “You know, I could be like your mother and say that if you don’t lighten up you’ll always be buying tickets for one.”

  Taylor snorted and picked up her soda and the tub of popcorn. “That might be someone’s mom, but not mine. Mine’s more likely to worry that I don’t have an escort to the art museum gala.”

  “Same thing.”

  “Don’t tell my mother that.” They headed for their theater. “Anyway, you’re missing the point. He knew what he was doing. He knew it was a problem,” Taylor said, feeling the annoyance afresh. “We talked about things being over when we got home. He had to know I wouldn’t go for it if he was working at my office.”

  “Did you tell him he was supposed to be a mind reader?”

  “Cute.” Taylor spared her a glance. “I had no plans to see him once we got home.” And of course she hadn’t planned on being kissed senseless, either, she thought, moistening her lips. “And now, he’s practically working in my lap.”

  The auditorium was hushed and only thinly populated. They gravitated to their usual seats a dozen or so rows from the front. Popcorn crunched under their feet.

  “And whose fault was that?” Jody asked, dropping into a seat near the center. “Did he come looking for you? You were the one who told them fix your place or else. What’s he going to do, pay a crew overtime or do it himself?”

  “He could have gotten someone if he’d wanted to. He’s working in the office just to bug me.”

  “So don’t let him get to you.”

  Taylor gave a grumpy twist to the cap of her water bottle. “Oh, like that’s possible. You try seeing a guy you had wild sex with and not thinking about it. I’m only human, you know.”

  “So what’s the problem?” Jody reached over and grabbed a handful of popcorn. “Is he clueless about going down on you?”

  “Oh, no. He’s pretty much got it refined to an art,” Taylor said, not noticing that her words came out a little dreamy.

  “I don’t get it, then. He’s gorgeous, he’s obviously still interested or he wouldn’t have kissed you blind last night. And you enjoyed it, don’t tell me you didn’t.”

  “He’s a good kisser,” Taylor allowed. “And smells great.”

  “So what’s your problem?”

  “I just don’t want…” Taylor stopped and stared at the screen, where a still screen quizzed them on the name of Paul Newman’s Oscar winning performance.

  “You don’t want what?”

  She breathed out. “I don’t want to make another mistake.”

  Jody nodded wisely. “Another Bennett.”

  “Another Bennett.”

  “Well, I can see that that could be a risk,” Jody said, and tossed a piece of popcorn into her mouth. “After all, Bennett freaked about you being in a bikini on your honeymoon. And he wouldn’t have sex with you. And even when you were dating, he was pathologically jealous. This Dev guy sounds like he’s just like that.”

  “Don’t make me sound stupid.”

  “I’m not making you sound anything, sweetie pie.”

  Taylor made a face at her. “I just don’t want to get myself in a box again.”

  “I know, hon.” Jody squeezed her shoulder. “Hey, don’t listen to me. I mean, what do I know about it? You should probably follow your instincts and keep your distance. I mean, if you have the inkling he’s a jerk and a potential abuser, that should be it.”

  “He’s not a jerk.”

  “The last thing you need is someone pushing you around and making you feel bad about yourself,” Jody continued. “If he’s a twi
t and only out for himself, stay away from him.”

  “Mexico was great,” Taylor said, remembering ripping up the coast with him, the wind in her hair.

  “Yeah, but Mexico wasn’t reality, face it.” Jody shrugged. “From what I’m hearing, he’s an arrogant twit you should get the hell away from. There are plenty of other guys out there.”

  “He’s not an—” Taylor stopped herself and gave Jody a narrow-eyed look. “What are you doing?”

  “Who, me?”

  “I don’t see anyone else around here.”

  “I’m trying to be supportive,” she said. “If you want to hate him, then I’ll hate him for you.”

  “I don’t—”

  “You don’t what?” Jody blinked at her innocently.

  “Nothing,” Taylor muttered. “The previews are starting.”

  DEV SAT AT HIS DESK, studying the construction schedule. Despite the delays, they still stood to finish the project on time if he could just get a little more done in Taylor’s unit. The most time-consuming part, the drywall, was done. They still needed to finish the painting, ceiling and trim work, then get the carpeting in. If they stayed on schedule with the rest of the building, they’d be all set.

  It would take, he calculated, at maximum another week to work on Taylor’s unit.Working on Taylor, now, that might take longer.

  He tapped his fingers restlessly on the desk. In Mexico, the one week limit had made sense. It didn’t anymore. He wasn’t ready to give it up. He wasn’t ready to give her up.

  Of course, there was no reason why he should, provided he could talk her into it. Their arrangement had worked in Mexico. There was no reason it couldn’t work in Baltimore. He thought of the way she’d responded when he’d kissed her and felt that rush of heat and tightness flow through him. Oh, no, there was absolutely no reason it couldn’t be just as hot back home. He just needed to convince her.