by Marie Harte
“Yes, Mistress, you insatiable thing.” He stared up at her, wanting to pinch himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. Hot chick, tender heart, riding him so he could jet inside her? Really? This was his life?
His heart sped when she moved faster over him. He panted, getting closer on the climb to orgasm. “Let me tell you my fantasy about a certain pair of pink yoga pants tied around my wrists while my wicked mistress has her way with me.”
“You mean those yoga pants?” Zoe moaned and pointed to a pair folded neatly on a chair. “Next time.”
She kept grinding over him, and then she leaned to kiss him, and it was like she had read his mind.
Chapter 9
“…The next item on the agenda is adding a new DEXA scanner order,” Cleo said, reading from a PowerPoint slide projected on the far wall. “So Dr. Fenton, did you…”
It was the Wednesday morning managers’ meeting, and Zoe was zoning out. Six thirty on a Wednesday morning normally wasn’t too early by her standards, but Gavin was wearing her out.
In the best way, physically. Mentally, he baffled her.
She still wasn’t sure how she felt about her new relationship. Because yeah, she and Gavin were more than just friends with benefits. They had sexcapades that thus far had ended with her having many—and at one point, multiple—orgasms. He remained charming, sexual, and unstoppable.
He continued to surprise her. By mutual agreement, they’d decided to take a break on Monday. And Tuesday, seeing each other at the gym and greeting with a nod. Low key but certainly not dismissive. He’d smiled wide. She’d grinned back. But they’d left each other mostly alone.
Until last night. Gavin had knocked, entered, and left her exhausted twenty minutes later. Another session of wham-bam, come screaming again.
So why did she feel sated and not used? They both got enjoyment out of the deal. But they’d talked and been deep with each other on Sunday. That meant something, and not just to her.
Gavin had invited her to lunch today. Hmm, something about lunch struck a chord…
Oh hell. Swanson had been responsible for the change in Cleo’s precious Monday morning meeting. He’d also mentioned he planned to rescheduled their lunch, for which Zoe had been more than grateful. She’d hoped to dodge that bullet, but he’d rescheduled it for today. Meaning the lunch she’d gotten out of on Monday with Mr. Crabby was happening in another four hours. Joy.
“Approved. Who’s on point for rolling this out?”
Cleo and the rest of the room stared at Zoe, waiting.
“Huh? Oh, right. I need to check over our calendar, but I’m shooting for Friday.”
No one had any issues, so they moved on to the next item on the agenda.
By the time the meeting ended, Zoe had managed to wake up, ignore the tempting box of doughnuts sitting way too close, and scoot out the door before Swanson could catch up with her. Somehow, she had to get out of lunch with him. She had a feeling if she spent too much time under that piercing gaze, she’d end up promising him her firstborn child and signing over the deed to her soul.
The morning passed swiftly. Her meeting with IT went about as well as expected. The poor bastards in that department worked hard, but they worked for an idiot. Jim liked to make meetings to have meetings. They’d talk for an hour and get nothing done. Not this time.
Zoe left after forcing Jim to accept her terms, committing to actual times of delivery instead of vague references to the future. She’d also suggested, rather strongly, that if he didn’t want to deal with hundreds of unhappy users, including Mr. Swanson himself, he’d better figure out why the wireless was so slow. Jim hadn’t looked too panicked until she mentioned Mr. Crabby.
Score another one for the dictatorial manager.
And speaking of which, she shot Swanson an email with a request to reschedule today’s lunch. Fingers crossed he’d buy it. Zoe was no coward, but she had enough on her plate without trying to manage Swanson’s many dictates. After all, he was a client, and her job made customer service a number one priority, which the guy took clear advantage of.
After working with Ginny and a few of the trainers on the implementation schedule, a huge project, Zoe filtered her emails from most important to not so much, set up a few more meetings, and informed Bill she’d be sitting in on his training session this afternoon at the cardiology clinic. For being the new guy, Bill had gotten up to speed quickly. Zoe loved her people. They worked hard with few hiccups and did a spectacular job of communicating to the customer—the doctors, medical assistants, and office staff who used the software.
Eleven o’clock rolled around all too soon, and she moved with leaden feet to the lunch shop next door. It was a favorite hangout for the admin staff and the general surgery and cardiology clinics close by.
She entered and ordered a chicken Caesar salad and iced tea, her food of choice to get through the rest of the day. The protein would do her good, because she was dragging. She didn’t wait for Gavin to show before she dug into her plate.
“Hey there, girlfriend.” Cleo joined her with a burger and fries in the seat across from her by the window.
“Uh, hi. I didn’t realize we were having lunch today.”
That’s what she got for grabbing a table with four chairs.
“We aren’t. I decided to be spontaneous.”
Time to bite the bullet. “Actually, I’m expecting someone else—”
“Ms. York. There you are.” Swanson plunked down next to Cleo after giving her a small frown. “Cleo.”
“Mark.”
“So that’s what the M stands for,” Zoe teased, wondering how to extricate herself from the opponents across from her. “I thought it was—”
“Macho? Murderous? Malignant?” Cleo filled in, her voice soft, innocent.
Swanson huffed. “Yes, because those are common male names beginning with M. You’re so clever, Cleo.” Clearly, he didn’t mean a word he said. “Why am I not surprised?” He bit into a wrap, dismissing Cleo with ease.
Before Cleo could get a verbal bite in, Zoe said, “You know, this is great, you two being here. Because I have a prior—”
“Zoe. Hey there.” Gavin swooped down and planted a kiss on her cheek. “You’re looking good, as usual.”
She blushed, not used to having her personal life mix with business. Though she shouldn’t be embarrassed. It wasn’t as if working for SMP mandated she live a monk-like existence.
Cleo gaped at Gavin as if unsure he was real. Not that Zoe could blame her. Gavin wore jeans and a dark-gray T-shirt that clung lovingly to his torso, exposing every inch of muscle. The gray color made his eyes pop, and she’d bet ten bucks he knew the fact and exploited it.
Swanson gave Gavin a thorough once-over she couldn’t read.
“Who is this?” Cleo asked, though she knew darned well who it was.
Zoe frowned at her to behave. “Cleo, Mr. Swanson, meet Gavin Donnigan, a good friend of mine. Gavin, they work with me at the medical group.”
“I’m also her best friend,” Cleo announced and took Gavin’s proffered hand with enthusiasm, holding longer than could be considered polite.
Gavin just grinned.
Zoe sighed. “Cleo.”
Cleo winked at him. “Oh, sorry. Forgot I was holding him, blinded by all his muscles.”
Gavin chuckled, and even Zoe grinned. Cleo could say things Zoe could never get away with, sounding cute and flirty but not over the top, probably because she looked so mischievous and innocent at the same time. Not like Zoe, who was often compared to a steamroller or an Amazon. And that had been complimentary.
Swanson offered his hand, and he and Gavin shook and let go. Propriety upheld, though she didn’t see any friendships blossoming there.
Gavin glanced at her and the group. “Should I come back another time? If you’re busy, I can—”
Cleo interrupted. “No, no. We’re butting in on your date, apparently. Aren’t we, Mr. M. Swanson?”
“No, we’re not. This is a working lunch.” He grudgingly conceded, “Though you’re more than welcome to join us, Gavin. And call me Mark.”
“Thanks.” Gavin smiled, squeezed Zoe’s shoulder, and said, “I’ll be right back.” He left to place his order.
“If you’d said you had a prior engagement, I’d have understood,” Swanson said.
“I sent you an email,” Zoe told him.
“Oh, that.” He took a sip of his drink. “I thought that was you trying to weasel your way out of a meeting. I didn’t know you really had plans.”
“Nice,” Cleo muttered. “So you’re not a total dick all the time.”
“Cleo!” Zoe wondered if she’d have to pry the pair apart once the gloves really came off. Swanson had never been one to let bygones be bygones without a reckoning first.
“Not all the time, no,” Swanson said with a half smile. Amused?
Cleo snorted. “Well, at least you’re honest.”
“More than some.” He glanced at her.
Zoe watched the back-and-forth, entertained despite herself.
Cleo raised a brow. “What does that mean?”
“Weren’t you the one bragging to everyone the other day about your Army boyfriend soon becoming a fiancé? Yet today you’re flirting with Zoe’s good friend.”
So no one had missed the fact she and Gavin were more than friendly.
“First of all, yes, that’s true, Scott and I are going to get engaged soon.” Cleo sounded proud and happy. “And second, I was only teasing. Gavin is built. Anyone can see that. He’s also Zoe’s friend, and I would never move in on a friend’s friend.”
“Okay, you two, stop with all the friend emphasis. And while we’re here, if you can stop going at each other’s throats, that would be super helpful too. Now, what is it you wanted to meet with me about, Mr. Swanson?”
He’d been chewing and had to swallow first to talk. Gavin returned and sat next to her, across from Swanson. Everyone watched Gavin and his tiny tray of food.
“What?”
“Eat much?” Cleo eyed his plate. “That’s a salad. Shouldn’t you eat something with meat or protein?”
“I have a tuna melt coming up,” he said. “Go on. Don’t let me interrupt you. I’m starving anyway.” While Gavin tucked into his salad, Zoe waited for Swanson to speak.
He sighed. “First, you might as well call me Mark. It’s been four years. I think we’re past the point of being distant professional colleagues.”
“So now you’re what?” Cleo asked, a dimple in her cheek. “Closer professional colleagues? Or, gasp, friends, even?”
“Colleagues is fine, Cleo.” Mark shook his head. “I still have no idea who you bribed to get to such an important position in the group. It’s not as if you’re a people person.”
“I’m a little more people-oriented than you are,” Cleo snapped.
Gavin chuckled. “Who would have thought medical talk could be so entertaining?”
“I know, right?” Zoe accepted the hand he put on her thigh, feeling melty inside. She squeezed his hand, then put hers back on the table.
“I’m sorry,” Mark apologized, not to Cleo, but to Gavin. “Cleo’s a little too autocratic for my taste. Now Zoe, on the other hand, is much easier to work with.” He shot her a blinding smile. “So about that training for the new staff. I was wondering if we could make that happen as early as this Friday…”
Minutes later, still baffled at how she’d agreed to make something happen with only one trainer available, Zoe realized Cleo had segued the conversation.
Cleo was asking Gavin, “So you work at Jameson’s Gym, huh? The one in Green Lake?”
“Yep.” He had returned moments ago with his tuna melt and ate in small bites. Odd, because she’d have thought him the type to chomp down his food. Lord knew he burned his calories honestly.
“I’ve been thinking about switching from my place.”
“You should come check us out. We have free trial memberships. And if you tell the front desk I sent you, they’ll give you a few extra days as well.” Gavin turned to Swanson—Mark. “You too, Mark. The facilities are top-notch, and the owner’s a hell of a guy.”
Mark nodded. “Thanks. So how long have you been a trainer?”
“Since he got out of the Marine Corps, right?” Cleo nodded. “A few of our staff go to the gym, and they mentioned the terrific self-defense instructors.” She gave a smile. “That’s you, right?”
“Yep. Me and my brother.”
“So you were in the Marines?” Mark’s gaze sharpened.
Zoe noticed the stillness that seemed to come over Gavin before he shrugged and smiled. “Guilty as charged. Infantry all the way.”
“Did you like it?” Cleo asked, and Zoe wanted to tell her to stop prying. Though Gavin looked fine, she could sense his disquiet.
“It’s a terrific institution. A brotherhood, excuse the expression,” he said to Zoe and Cleo, “that you’re hard-pressed to find anywhere else. The civilian sector is way different.”
“I’ll bet,” Mark said. “How long were you in?”
“Fourteen years. Got out thanks to a bullet. But it’s all good,” Gavin added with a grin at Zoe. “You meet some of the most interesting people in Seattle.”
Cleo laughed. “Yeah, you do. That’s where I met Scott. He’s a sergeant in the Army.”
“I’m sorry,” Gavin said.
Mark snickered.
Cleo frowned. “What?”
“I’m kidding, Cleo. Anyone who serves is okay in my book…even if he’s Army.”
“Funny stuff coming from a jarhead,” Cleo teased back.
Zoe thought that maybe she’d imagined Gavin’s earlier tension, because he appeared light-hearted throughout the lunch banter. And he asked enough questions about her, to be sure.
“So what’s Zoe like at work?” he asked Mark.
“Focused. Driven.” Mark gave her another of those weird, penetrating looks. “I’d say she’s a ballbuster with a smile, but that wouldn’t be politically correct. Like calling someone a dick to his face.”
Cleo squirmed in her seat.
Zoe took pity on her. “Good thing you’re more about getting the job done than being PC.”
“True.” Mark grinned at blushing Cleo. “So yes, Gavin. Your girlfriend—sorry, friend—is a ballbuster. But then, with our IT department, someone has to be.”
They all lamented Jim’s inability to manage or make decisions, though Zoe tried to stick up for the poor guy a few times. In the end, she gave in because she knew Mark and Cleo wouldn’t spread tales.
Mark glanced at his watch, one of the few people who still wore one. “Heck. I need to get back. Nice meeting you, Gavin.” He turned to Cleo. “Ms. Brewer.”
“Mr. Macho Swanson.”
He sighed and left.
Cleo made a face at his back, then saw Gavin watching her. “Sorry. That was immature, but that guy gets under my skin.”
“I thought he was okay.” Gavin pushed his plate aside, having all but scraped it clean. Not a bit to waste.
“He’s firm but fair,” Zoe said just to needle Cleo.
“He’s an asshole, but he’s one of the best managers we have. I hate to admit it, but if everyone ran their clinics like he does, we’d have way less problems getting things done.”
“Don’t sound so depressed, Cleo. I’m sure he’ll annoy someone, and you’ll be able to direct HR to breathe down his neck.”
Cleo brightened. “There’s that. Well, I’d better go too. Bye, Gavin. I’ve heard so much about you,” she gushed, “that it’s nice to put a face to the name.”
“Oh?” Gavin looked interested. “What
have you heard?”
“She’s got to go. Bye, Cleo.” Zoe nodded to the exit.
Cleo laughed and departed, leaving Gavin and Zoe alone.
“Finally.” He wasted no time in moving across from her. “Ah, now I can see you.”
“Sorry about that. Cleo dropped by unannounced, but Swanson cornered me into lunch.”
“Cleo’s right. He’s a dick. I don’t like him.”
“Really?” Shocker, because Gavin had been nothing but polite to the guy.
“He was eating you up, staring at your eyes and mouth like he wanted to plant one on you while I watched.”
“Mark Swanson,” she said for clarification.
“Mark,” he gushed in a high-pitched voice. “An asshole. And not your type.”
“Oh?” She didn’t know how to feel about Gavin being jealous. Her insides fluttered with happiness, while the rational being that was Zoe told her jealousy was a useless, negative emotion. “What’s my type, Gavin?”
He stretched his legs into the aisle and laced his hands behind his head. To her chagrin, she noted a few women glancing their way. “Your type. Hmm. You love a guy who works with his hands.”
“Mark is a high-ranking executive. He types a lot.”
Gavin’s expression darkened. “He should be charming, have a sense of humor.”
“Mark can be snarky. That’s kind of funny.”
“He’s not charming,” Gavin muttered. “And his ego is huge. You can just tell. I guarantee you he’s got a tiny dick.”
“Gavin.” She shushed him, especially when a few raised eyebrows swung their way.
“Sorry. But that’s a fact.”
“Fact?”
“When a guy has to prove how great he is, he’s compensating. And since all guys, no matter what they tell you, are dick-centric, it’s always about sexual expertise. I’m telling you. If he’s not so small you need a microscope to see it, he sucks in bed. Totally not your type. You need a man who can satisfy you, baby.”
“If she doesn’t, I do. Here’s my card.” A woman snuck it by him as she sauntered out of the sandwich shop.