For Kicks
Page 11
“You’re too serious. I was there. You had a great time. Think about it, you’ll be grinning from ear to ear too.”
With a weak smile, she returned to the pages, a warm blush heating her skin. She needed to calm down, stop overreacting and just enjoy him. For however long she held his attention.
“How long do your relationships last?”
“I don’t have a stopwatch. They end when it’s over. Usually about three weeks.”
She gasped, realizing she’d already used up one of hers.
“I walk when it becomes inauthentic. Life is too short to be a place card in someone’s life. A lot of women out there think there’s a right time to be married, and any decent guy will do.”
“That’s crazy.” Breeze scrunched her brows. “There’s only one reason to get married.”
He nodded but didn’t offer what he thought that reason should be. “How long do we have to keep hiding that there’s something going on with us?”
“Who do you want to tell?” Her chest tightened, holding in the panic of having the past repeat itself.
“I don’t like secrets. It’s always better to have things out in the open.”
She shook her head. “You promised no one would know.”
“I’m not going to put out a memo. I’d just like to be honest with my sister about why I was here this weekend. Haven’t you told anyone?” His fingers drew lazy circles on her knee.
“No, have you?” Her heart stalled.
“No. You haven’t even told your mom?”
She winced. She’d forgotten to call, again.
“You still haven’t called? Do it now.”
“No, they don’t even know about this trip. Calling from an airport would be weird.”
“Why didn’t you tell them about the trip?” His eyes widened, disapproval settling on his face.
“I’m busy, they’re busy.” Too busy to even return her calls it seemed. She shook off the thought, not wanting him to think badly of her family. “They deliver three hundred babies a year.”
“You should try harder with them, Breeze. Don’t take them for granted. Family is who makes us who we are. You don’t want to let that get away.”
“That’s the way it’s been since I left.”
“So fix it.”
She opened her mouth to explain why she couldn’t, that she was still embarrassed by the rumors that ran her out of town, rumors she knew they’d heard. But instead of speaking, she heard her flight announced over the PA system.
“That’s my cue.” She slid the book in the bag and gathered the rest of her things. Once collected she turned back to make a quick goodbye. But the sad look in his eyes told her he’d have none of that.
“What is the difference between love, lust and romance?” He leaned in and pulled her so close to his chair that the tiniest nudge would put her in his lap.
“I don’t know. Is that in the book?”
He nodded, his lips inching closer to hers until they brushed softly. “Breeze, with you I can’t tell the difference.” And then he kissed her.
Long and slow, curling the desire in her belly into a tight coil. Her eyes drifted shut as she drank him in. The scent of hotel soap, the stubble on his cheeks as she framed his face with her hands, the taste of him on her tongue.
He pulled away first, taking her hands in his and kissing each palm. “You’re the most amazing kisser.”
“Really?” A giddy rush floated through her.
“Mmm hmm. When our lips touch, your whole body relaxes.”
“And that’s good?”
“Very. Kissing is reciprocal. It relaxes me too. Enough to let you get on that plane.”
The voiced buzzing through the conference room blurred in his mind. Projected sales numbers no longer held the appeal they once did. He still believed in the Kicks line, still wanted it to succeed for Nitrous and Kellen. But his thoughts were elsewhere. Flying over Pennsylvania to be exact. Set to land in forty-one minutes.
“Logan?”
At the sound of his name he sat up straighter, blinking out of his daydream.
“You’ve worked closer with Breeze than any of us. Do you think she’d be interested in a change?” The director of retail tapped the end of her pen against the table.
“It would depend on the change.” He grinned, wondering if he’d been caught sleeping in class.
“Her sense of urgency is exactly what we need.” She pounded her fist against the table for emphasis. “A problem solver. The retail team is missing that right now. She’d be perfect to head up our training collateral.”
Right up Breeze’s alley. Not. “I think she prefers the hands-on side. She’s in constant motion. I don’t see her at a desk writing training manuals and developing slide shows.”
“You think she’d want to stay at the store level?”
“Not for long. I think she plans on running Mendelssohn’s.” No one laughed. Logan’s smile widened with pride.
“I always say, only hire people who you know could do your job. Keeps you on your toes.”
“That is the Nitrous way.” Logan leaned forward. “Would you like me to feel her out? I’m going to check in with her at the end of the week.”
“I’ll e-mail you the specifics. See what she’d be interested in. I’d welcome her in either the flagship Nitrous Town or the employee store. If she’s that determined to move up, we’ll need to keep her close to headquarters.”
Logan nodded, paying enough attention for the rest of the meeting that he was able to gather his things and skedaddle at the first opportunity. Breeze at Nitrous. He’d really have his work cut out for him to convince her to be with him if they worked for the same company.
Instead of returning to his office, he trekked to the other side of the Nitrous campus and maneuvered his way into his brother-in-law’s cubicle.
“How’s the project coming?” Marc asked, barely looking up from his computer screen.
“Better every day. We’ve even got Kellen excited, which is hard to do.”
“Yes, his commitment to being mellow surpasses even yours.”
“I want this to go right for him. The sole design is new, and soccer isn’t as big in the states as basketball and baseball.”
“Which is why you’re launching in North America rather than the more competitive UK or Brazilian markets. You made the right decision, and the global football team agrees. Are you doubting yourself?” Marc looked up with a sympathetic smile and shook his head. “It’s not about work. I take it you didn’t get anywhere with her.”
Logan swallowed hard over the constriction in his throat. “She’s a complex woman.”
“That’s promising. You need a challenge. Otherwise you get bored too easy.”
“Is that my problem?”
“Something like that.” Marc leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers. “Are you still interested in her, or have you tired of the chase?”
Logan shrugged, rolling his lips inward to seal them tight. Was keeping his promise of discretion to Breeze really worth lying? Especially when he could count on Marc’s silence?
“You have to work for anything worth having, Logan.”
He shook his head. “It’s not that. She has an issue with us both working on the same project. And now retail wants to recruit her.” The truth. Barely.
“She’s smart about that, Logan. Retail is a nasty business. Very cutthroat. Especially for women.”
“I thought retail is a woman’s business.”
“Only at the ground level. It’s as much an old boys’ club as everywhere else. And she’s a woman, young and pretty. Three strikes against her in that world. She doesn’t need any rumors.”
“Have you two been talking? Because that’s the speech she’s giving me.” He grinned and crossed his arms across his chest.
“Smart girl. Besides, if you pull back a little she might come after you.”
He huffed his response, resisting the urge to laugh. If he
pulled back now, she’d read it as rejection and close herself off so tightly no one would ever see the sweet, vulnerable side that drew him in.
“She really has you tied up in knots.” Marc looked him up and down. “What is it about her, Logan?”
“I don’t know, and it’s driving me crazy.” He ground out the words. “And with her traveling so much, she doesn’t have time for me to find out.”
“Uh oh,” Marc said, the corners of his mouth turning up. “Love is unexplainable, you know. That’s how you know you’re in it.”
“Fat lot of help you are.” Logan turned to leave, not sure why he thought he’d find answers here in the first place.
“You could point out that a lot of couples work at Nitrous, like Janelle and me. Or print out the section on fraternizing from the employee handbook. As long as you aren’t her direct supervisor, it’s a non-issue as far as Nitrous is concerned. And if you get that job with global marketing you’ve been sniffing around, you’ll be out of the retail side completely. No conflict at all.”
Chapter Ten
“What are you wearing?” Logan’s voice dripped through the phone line.
Glad he couldn’t see the satisfied smile on her face, Breeze put the cell phone on speaker and lay back against the pillows on her bed. “Nothing you’d want to see.”
“I guessed so. You sent the number with the ribbons back with me.”
She was eternally grateful he couldn’t see her blush. “You went through my bag? You’re just supposed to drop it off at the condo and check on my fish.”
“Speaking of, I think your filter is broken. Where do you usually buy your plants? And snails?”
“Oh no.” She sat straight up, picturing her goldfish in murky water. He’d mentioned having fish of his own, so she’d given him a key to drop off her bag and make sure they’d been fed. It was much easier to trust him with her things than her heart.
“The fish are fine. They’ve eaten the roots and leaves on most everything. And the snails.”
“They ate the snails!” She slumped against the pillows again. “Anthony must not be feeding them often enough.” She hooked a nail on her tooth, wondering what it would cost her to ask him for this kind of favor.
“They look well fed to me, especially this spotted behemoth. I have a fish guy. I’ll call him and see when he can come out. But with no filter we really should get some more plants in there.”
“You have a fish guy?”
“He maintains the saltwater tanks at my place. But he’s probably going to tell me to build these guys a pond. They’re huge. And the black-tailed one keeps spitting rocks at me.”
“Oh, that’s Fred. He’s friendly.”
“You have friendly fish? Maybe I should look into goldfish. Mine have a superiority complex.”
She chuckled, twirling a curl around her finger. “Could you give me the name of your fish guy? I’ll see when he can come out and then get Lonnie or Anthony to let him in.”
“I’ll call him. You can have my slot tomorrow and he can work me in whenever. It’ll knock my fish down a few pegs.”
“Thanks. I’ll make it up to you.”
“Oh yeah? How?”
She made out a faint rustling in the background. “Where are you?”
“On your bed. Where are you?”
“Why are you on my bed? Don’t you have to…” Think of something, Breeze. Get the picture of him waiting for you on your bed out of your mind, “…to go to Under The Sea and get some plants for the tank?”
“I will. But I think I’ll go cash in hand, so to speak. Make it up to me.”
“I was thinking in terms of money or chores.”
“You have those kinds of fantasies?”
“Excuse me?”
“Call girl and domestic discipline?” A dark laugh vibrated through the line.
Breeze gasped, unable to close her mouth.
“I didn’t think so.” She could just envision the smile playing on his delicious lips.
“Make it up to me. Where are you?”
“In bed.” She shook her head as if he could see, as if it mattered. “Logan, I can’t do this.”
“What are you wearing?”
“Seriously, this isn’t happening.” She crossed her arms over her chest and wished her cotton nightshirt had been clean. “I don’t know how.”
“Turn the light off.”
“How did you know it was on?” She flicked the lamp off, darkening the room.
“Now, what are you wearing?”
The silence stretched on, making Breeze painfully aware of the lace scratching against her breasts. Damned Anthony. If he could just feed fish and buy sensible nightgowns she wouldn’t be in this predicament.
“If it’s that good, you should keep it on.”
“I intend to.”
“Describe it to me.”
“It’s not what you think anyway. I usually sleep in a thermal nightshirt. This was just clean.”
“Keep going.”
“How?” She waited for an answer, anticipation beginning to stir her thoughts. What would it hurt, really? “A satin chemise. It’s lilac with lace along the neckline and the hem.”
“I know the one.” Tension sparked as if he was in the room. “I saw it when I got your laundry. You look great in it.” His low voice caressed her like a touch.
“You can’t see me.” She bit her bottom lip and pulled the blankets higher in her lap.
“Oh, but I can. Your nipples are trying to peek through the lace.”
Expecting to prove him wrong, she looked down. How did he know? Her nipples puckered in response to his voice, and the more he spoke the tighter they pulled.
“Let me see them. Lean forward so I can catch a glimpse of them in the light from the window.”
His soft, suggestive voice had her heart pounding. She could feel his eyes on her. “You don’t have a web cam, do you?”
“This is better, trust me. Lean forward so I can see.”
She obliged, not feeling half as ridiculous as she thought she would. In fact, she didn’t feel strange at all. “What are you wearing?”
“A sweater, jeans and socks. I left my Kicks by the front door.”
She swallowed hard. “Could you take off the sweater? So I’m not alone in this?” Hearing the rustling of fabric she pictured him propped against the pillows of her bed, his bronzed chest ready for her to explore.
“Take off your panties.”
Her breath caught. “No.”
“Come on. They are white cotton briefs. It ruins the effect of the lingerie.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I did your laundry. Please, take them off.”
She tried not to make a sound as she pulled them down her legs and let them drop to the floor. Her stomach fluttered as she sat back on the bed, too aware nothing separated her from the satin.
“Thank you.” His husky voice sent the fervor flooding back through her body, reminding her of everything she’d tried to forget in the last two days.
“Logan…”
“I love it when you say my name.”
“You do?”
“I like it best when you say it when you come.”
Her heart stuttered. “I did?”
“Every time.” His low, husky voice sounded hard with passion. “Lean forward,” he said in the same heated tone. “Show me how turned on you are. How tight your nipples are.”
She granted the request mindlessly, watching her body to see what he saw.
“I want to touch them. Right where you’re spilling out. Trace the lace for me, Breeze.”
With a tentative finger, she obeyed, her touch as light as a tickle. Not like his at all. She tried again, more confident this time, but still it wasn’t enough.
“I want to trace the edge of your gown with my tongue. Pull the straps off your shoulders with my teeth so I can see more of you. Would you like that, Breeze?”
“Logan…I…” His deep,
longing breaths intoxicated her mind.
“I want to kiss you. What flavor is your lip gloss today?”
“Raspberry.” Her tongue darted out, tasting to be sure.
“Mmm. You always taste so good. Show me where you want me to kiss you.”
“How?” Arousal surged within, her frustration with this game mounting.
“Move your fingers where I tell you to, where you want me to be.”
“I don’t do this.” She let out a breath and closed her eyes, wishing she weren’t so dependent on him to guide her.
“Touch yourself? Why not?”
“I don’t think of myself this way.” Her mind sparked, wondering if this was what was missing in her life. She knew it was something elusive and intangible. Without it she had a diffuse dissatisfaction with life, though she had all she needed.
“You do now.”
“Only because you do.”
Desire bubbled through her with the sound of his voice, lifting the psychological weight keeping her from feeling much of anything. She always avoided feeling, caring. But with Logan, she wanted to. Because no matter how bad she’d hurt later, it felt damned good right now.
She’d given him the keys to her innocence, her trust. A man who could destroy her personally and professionally with a few small words. The part of her psyche she kept bound and gagged mumbled why she trusted him, but Breeze didn’t dare listen.
“If it’s me, then show me where you want me to kiss you. I can see you, your eyes closed, dark lashes against your pale cheeks, your hand hovering in hesitation. No one will ever know you but me.”
Her breath caught at the possessiveness of his words. Did he really mean—
“No one will know, Breeze. Lick your lips so they are wet where I’ve tasted them,” he coaxed. “Trace your fingers along your neck to that spot behind your ear, then pull them down along your jaw.”
She obeyed his requests willingly, desire ricocheting through every nerve. The quickened pace of his breathing pushing her on.
“Trail your hand down your neck, across your collarbone.”
It was almost like being in a trance, playing a secret, wicked game. Knowing he could see her in his mind, just as she could see him on her bed.
“I can’t see enough of you. I need more. Pull the straps off your shoulders. Show me.”