Goin' Down 1

by Renee Michaels, Collette Thomas, Aspen Mountain Press Authors

  Something she took pains to hide under the masculine cut of the suits she habitually wore. Her hair was always pulled back in a severe bun, she always wore subdued make-up.

  What he wouldn't give to see that full mouth, slicked with some shiny red lipstick, instead of that odd brown color.

  He wasn't a particularly patient man. But he knew how much the project meant to her. So he'd consciously stepped back. His connection to the project ended in a couple of days. Then he'd be free to pursue her openly.

  She was marked. She just refused to acknowledge it.

  "Hey Will. Jenna, how are you?” He grinned at the stiffening of her stance. Girding her loins he supposed . He deliberately flashed her a knowing grin and received a skin searing glare for his efforts.

  "Still rich and vertical, just the way I like it.” Chuckling at his own joke, Will's eyes swung between the two other people in the room.

  There was very little that got past O'Brian. He was well aware of Dante's interest in his employee.

  "Jenna tells me you've finally solved our power problems."

  "A bad batch of connectors to the city's power grid needed to be replaced. I don't know how it passed inspection the first time. I've gone over every thing personally and signed off on the work order. At no cost to you.” He addressed his answer to Jenna, forcing her to join in the conversation.

  "That's generous of you."

  "Just good business practice. The inspectors will be doing a final tomorrow afternoon. I asked for Mike Willis to do it."

  "Jaysus, we'll be lucky if we pass inspection some time in this decade. You do know we open in a month,” Will groused.

  "If Mike Willis gives us a passing grade we'll open as scheduled and under budget. His attention to detail is legendary,” Jenna placated her employer, who, for all his millions, was known to watch the bottom line like a mother with a newborn. She gathered the files on the table before her, preparing to leave.

  "I have a list of details I need to discuss with you, Jenna. If you have the time this morning?” Dante picked up a stray file handed it to her to forcing her to look up at him.

  He could see duty warring with self-preservation in her eyes and guessed she was wary of being alone with him, and that he was going to use the opportunity to press his case.

  "I'm available until noon,” she conceded grudgingly, stuffing the files into her brief case.

  "That's good to know.” She could hardly miss the unvoiced question.

  She shot him a fulminating glare, said her goodbyes to Will, and stalked out of the room.

  "You haven't made any head way with our Jenna, have you? I have a friendly bet with my wife. I think she'll never give you the time of day. My wife on the other hand has more faith in you. She believes you're just what our young protégé needs and you'll prevail. I never waited six months for a woman. You must be getting a little antsy there boy."

  "Yeah it's been a long dry spell but you just took a sucker bet. I'll see you tomorrow at the final meeting.” Dante tossed the words over his shoulder as he left the room to catch up with Jenna.

  The agitated slap of her black and white penny loafers on the parquet floor told him it would be one of those meetings where she tried to dress him down for being unprofessional. She stood hesitantly in the open doorway of her office. The pretty basket of tulips he had delivered must've caught her eye. He figured it would be hard to berate a guy who sent you yellow and purple tulips. He counted on her weakness for the blooms to soften her up a bit.

  He had gathered tidbits of personal information about her. The bouquet, an exact replica of the poster behind her desk he used as a shameless reminder of him.

  The sigh and the relaxing of her shoulders told him he might just leave her office with a little piece of ego intact.

  She ushered him into the room and closed the door. “Dante, you've got to stop this."

  "Stop what?” He plastered a look of innocence on his face. Her lips twitched slightly before she compressed them into a thin line. She couldn't quite squash the gleam of laugher in her eyes as quickly.

  Her chest heaved, and she let out an exaggerated sigh of exasperation. The jacket she wore tightened over her chest. Fine wool gabardine, stretched tautly across her full breasts, revealed for a moment the lushness concealed by the cut of the garment.

  How could he resist her? She was everything he wanted in a woman. Bright, kind, a smile that warmed his insides. Not to mention hardening certain unruly parts of him.

  "Look. Your double entendres are going to compromise my job. People are beginning to talk.” The stern expression she adopted only egged him to find a way to remove it.

  "Not once have I crossed the line professionally.” He walked across the room to stand in front of her. “You gave me a long list of reasons why we shouldn't date, and I adhered to them, even though I didn't agree with some them. But we shared something before I left, and frankly I'm not able to go back to the way it was. And I don't see how you can either."

  "That was a clear mistake. A single aberration that I have no intention of repeating."

  "A mistake? Hell, I don't think so. You've said you don't date men you work with. As trouble shooter for Moretti Electric, my role is over, now that I've found the problem. In a few days we won't work together any more,” he reminded her, moving closer to her. She involuntarily took a step back only to be stopped by the edge of her desk.

  Caught by her own words she groaned. “Look, I'm just not interested."

  "You're just not interested?” he echoed.

  "Yes that's exactly what I'm saying."

  Dante winced. This would be figurative kick in the balls number five hundred and fifty. Ego bruised, but not shattered. Luckily he had five sisters, who over the years had given him enough insight into the workings of a female mind, and by all accounts this wasn't a woman who was indifferent to him.

  He took her hand in his and looked into her eyes. He suspected the determined expression he saw there was forced. So he waited until a flicker of uncertainty flashed in them.

  Then he saw the recognition. An answer to his unspoken question, giving him a small glimpse of their shared hunger.

  That's all he needed. He bent to take her mouth. Surprise made her lips part involuntarily.

  She tasted like he remembered. Heaven, hot sex, and all woman. He deepened the kiss. Stroking her tongue with his, drinking her in, seducing her to go further.

  He waited for her to put up some resistance. Instead, he heard a low whimper and felt the slight press of her body into his.

  He gathered her into his arms and lifted her, setting her on the desk. Then he stood between her legs.

  He tore his lips from her mouth when her response receded a little. He pressed his lips to the spot just below her ear lobe to nip, and licked down the sensitized line to the curve of her shoulder.

  "Sexual harassment,” she stuttered all the while arching her neck into his nibbling lips.

  "Like hell,” he growled. “This is a relationship deferred by your stubbornness. I'm just giving you a reminder of what it was like. A taste of what it could be like if you'd just say yes. One date, that's all I ask. If you really want me to stop just say the word."

  The muffled rumble of voices from the outer offices made her desire-clouded eyes sharpen. Abruptly, she pushed him away with an accusatory glare, and straightened her clothes.

  "In two days I'll sign off on the job. Then I'm going to take you out on a date. Put that on one of your to-do lists. You won't be sorry.” He leaned in and nipped her full lower lip. His words were a pledge. Dark and full of erotic promises. She shivered where she stood. So close to him that he could feel her reaction to his lips.

  He walked out of the room before she could shoot off another volley of denials of the attraction simmering between them. He was tired of waiting. The next time they were alone together, he would take her.

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  Chapter Two

  Jenna wat
ched Dante stride confidently out of the room. The taut denim stretched over his ass mocked her. She'd ogled that butt and those muscled thighs on the sly too many times to count. He closed the door of the office to protect her from prying eyes.

  She rushed to the washroom to pull herself together. The woman in the mirror's lips was kiss-swollen, her pupils dilated, and her cheeks flushed with a lambent desire that shimmered around her.

  A vivid picture of a woman fully aroused by her lover. She almost didn't recognize herself.

  She lifted a shaky hand to straighten the tendrils of hair that had slipped from the French Braid she wore to enhance her businesslike image.

  She followed the rules. She always followed the rules. No playing with the toys in the work place play pen.

  She had a list of do's and don'ts she lived by. Dante was definitely a don't.

  She groaned in defeat. Just what the hell was it about Dante Moretti that tempted her to discard her precious list?

  Sure, he was the finest thing on two legs. With that wicked grin, fine body, and the aforementioned ass. He was damned near irresistible.

  She'd be damned, though, if she'd fall into his arms like a honey bee diving into a nectar laden bloom.

  She was still in control.

  There was no way in hell she was going to give in to the desperate need he engendered whenever they met.

  So what if he left her panties damp after every meeting?

  Whenever he was on site he dropped by her office, several times during the working day, on some flimsy pretext. She had to steel herself against his overt sexuality.

  The smell of him still permeated her senses. The deep bass rumble of his voice skittered through her brain, down to her nipples, where they furled into hard uncompromising buds against the cloth of the sports bra she wore like an armor, to corral her response toward him.

  If only her reaction to him ended there.

  But instead it continued to travel to her clit, which now pulsed in cadence with the frantic beat of her heart. Fluid gushed from her, soaking the crotch of the expensive silk panties she indulged in, as it had done time and time again.

  She had taken to carrying several pairs, in the huge hobo she lugged around, to ensure she could rid her self of the moist evidence of how attracted she had become toward him.

  And she tried to convince herself it had nothing to do with Dante, or his attempts to seduce her.

  It had been three years since she had taken a lover to her bed. Her career had taken precedence over everything else. The youngest project manager with O'Brian Development, a hell of an achievement, she wasn't about to toss it away for a quick roll in the hay with the likes of any man, especially Dante Moretti.

  Yet, she had never reacted to a man this way. In fact, she was the one who usually directed the rhythm of her relationships. Sex when she needed it and then cutting her losses when the men in her life became too possessive and too controlling.

  With Dante, her discipline slipped, eroded by his seduction of her senses. He was just there all the time. On the edge of her mind, enticing her even in his absence. Jenna repeated her reasons over and over in her head to reinforce her rules in her mind.

  Who was she kidding? The smooth polished executives, her usual type of bed buddy, blurred beside him.

  She'd taken his dare to give him a kiss to prove to him, and herself, she was immune to him. Her aim was to wipe that cocky grin off his face and instead she got the surprise of her life.

  What was supposed to have been a casual kiss had turned into a flagrant seduction. He took until she gave and gave willingly. Until he had her caught up in a moment of fierce desire. The memory of stroking his tongue with hers and savoring him, the feeling that she couldn't get close enough to him, now taunted her. His hands on her skin making her feel both tense and yielding inside.

  Callus hands that could be so erotic. Hands that gave her the most tactile, sensual, knee-knocking caresses.

  Jenna cradled her head into her hands.

  God, she'd die if he ever found out how much she wanted him after all her vehement rebuffs.

  His pursuit had been unwavering, and if she didn't put some distance between them, she'd fold like a bad poker hand.

  A vice presidency in O'Brian Development was up for grabs, and she wanted it. A sex scandal or even rumors of one would ruin her reputation and make her the laughing-stock in an office full of men. She had to maintain her rep as a business woman or she could kiss the promotion goodbye.

  Focus on the goal and you'll achieve. Her mantra.

  In a couple of days, she'd sign the last check to Moretti Electric. The necessity to contact with Dante would end. So would the smoldering desire that refused to be squashed.

  Just two more days. All she had to do was last two more days.

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  Chapter Three

  It had only been two days and she'd been driven to drink.

  Alcohol never solved anything her mother used to tell her, but after the second margarita, the tension in her shoulders had been massaged away by the potent tequila, it made her problems seemingly small and insignificant.

  Or was it a big problem? At the moment she wasn't so sure.

  She sipped her drink and listened to the soothing melody played by the trio of musicians. Surrounded by subdued laughter, the anonymity of the dimly lit bar was just what she needed right now.

  The bar had none of the usual flash and glitz of Vegas. Decorated in a pale moody blue, the large room appeared to be awash in moonlight. Located way off the strip, it provided the perfect place for a tryst or a quiet drink.

  Tiny tables set in clever booths were tucked into the walls to ensure privacy. Jenna stared moodily into her drink and welcomed this opportunity to brood. For the past two days she had put herself into a frame of mind to battle Dante, but the rat bastard didn't have the decency to show his face in the office.

  Her nerves had become bow string taut with each hour when he failed to show. She waffled between wanting to hunt him down and being glad that he had kept his distance. She laid her confusion squarely on his shoulders.

  Just wait until she saw him.

  "If you're thirsty maybe you'd better switch to soda.” Tracey took the glass from her hand and set it the table. “Are you going to tell me what's wrong? No let me guess. Delicious Dante has you horny as hell and you won't avail yourself of that bulge he totes around.” Tracey smacked her lips, wiggled her brows and grinned into her friend's sulky face.

  It was hard not to share the grin with her friend. The wide smile on Tracey's caramel-skinned face was infectious. Her best friend since ... shoot she couldn't quite remember when.

  There was a reason why she rarely drank. Reality either got a little fuzzy or she got super aroused. She passed fuzzy awhile ago and was well on her way to being the latter.

  Pity, the only man who stirred even the tiniest bit of lasciviousness in her lately was off limits. It'd be an admittance of her loss of control if she gave in and slept with him.

  "Remind me never to introduce you to anybody again,” Jenna grumbled “That's a fine way for a judge's daughter to talk.” Jenna retrieved her glass and took a more judicious sip.

  "My daddy ain't here, and I'm very good where it really counts. Why don't you just admit you want the man and jump his bones? I promise you'll sleep better tonight."

  "Fine I'll admit it.” Jenna tossed her hands up in defeat and clasped her hot cheeks in her cool palms. “I want to tangle the sheets with Dante Moretti more than I can say. But I still won't do it."

  "Why the hell not? I'm confused. You're both unattached adults, attracted to each other, and have all the necessary parts. Let nature take its course. If you pass up this opportunity, honey, you'll need to see a shrink. That's my professional opinion."

  "I made the mistake of sleeping with a coworker before and paid a high price for it. I'm on the short list for the VP job, and I don't want to screw that up by sleeping with the
boss's good buddy."

  "Oh, for God's sake! Todd Phillips was an ass, who used the fact that you slept with him to get back at you for not taking his crap. Dante is nothing like that lout and you know it. I bet he could create magic with those big hands of his and that mouth. Hmm hmm.” Tracey's eyes looked over Jenna's shoulder and widened slightly.

  "I don't want to talk about Dante Moretti tonight.” Swaying to the music, she lost herself in the slow sensuality of the melody.

  "You might have a hard time doing that.” Tracey gestured across the room with her glass. “Whoo hoo. If you weren't so hot for the love god entering the bar I'd jump that white boy,” Tracy chortled gleefully, her gaze fixed on the entrance of the bar.

  "What?” Jenna jerked her head to see who Tracey was talking about.

  "Don't turn around. He'll know we're talking about him. Dante is here across the room to your left. Let's take a trip to the little girl's room and you can scope him out."

  "I don't need to go. I'm just out for a drink with a friend. No need for a colleague from work to intrude.” A large sip from her glass went a long way in fortifying her resolve.

  "Intrusion imminent,” Tracey murmured.

  A familiar awareness was her first hint followed by the word. “Jenna.” The dark possessiveness in his voice in that single word made her stiffen.

  She turned to him. “Why Dante, I thought you'd left town.” A quick peek at him over the salted rim of her glass almost made her choke on the liquid caught in her throat.

  Dressed in all black, not an inch of denim in sight, he was truly eye-catching. Italian tailoring fitted the long, lanky frame of his body like a lover's intimate clasp. His unbuttoned collar gave her a glimpse of the dusting of dark hair on his chest.

  She wondered idly if it trailed down in a thin line. Unconsciously her eyes wandered along the path her thoughts took until they settled on the material draped possessively over his crotch, which was convenient because she was sitting at eye level to it.