Good Girls Don't

by Rosalie Lario

  “James,” she whispered, her voice pleading.

  He lifted his mouth from her breast long enough to murmur, “Come for me, baby.”

  His fingers began to thrust into her hard, slamming her down into the cushion with every pump. Surely anyone who stopped to listen would be able to hear the rhythmic pounding of her ass into the seat. His mouth worked on her the whole while—sucking, nipping, switching from one breast to the other. The sensation of being out of control and the fear that they could so easily be caught, compounded with the knowledge that what she was doing was as far from the good girl spectrum as you could possibly get, served to send her soaring over the edge.

  Lyssa dug the heel of her palm into her mouth, using her hand to muffle the sound of her release. Apparently, she wasn’t doing a good job of it because James squashed her lips beneath his own, drinking in her moans as if they were nourishment.

  The moment she regained some semblance of control, James sat back and glanced around. That was when she remembered once more where they were.

  Oh, jeez.

  Humiliation burned in her as she sat up and fixed her bra, then began buttoning her blouse. A quick look confirmed that no one was watching or on their way toward the table—thank goodness.

  When she looked over at James, the pain on his face tore her worries away. She might have just had one of the biggest orgasms of her life, but his expression was a clear reminder that he was still aching for release.

  Smoothing her blouse down, she leaned forward to whisper to him, “You’re crazy, you know.”

  He let out something between a chuckle and a growl and dragged her onto his lap, pressing up into her so she could feel how very real his desire for her was. His head lowered to her ear.

  “You want crazy?” he whispered, his voice a cross between amusement and repressed desire. “I should fuck you right here.”

  Amazingly, even though she’d just come, his naughty suggestion sent tingles of longing into her body. To her surprise, she found herself whispering back, “Not here. Your office.”

  “You’re killing me,” he rumbled, tightening his hand over her back and squishing her into him. Then he gently set her back, his eyes flashing with heat and promise. “Let’s go.”

  Lyssa took a breath and tried to smooth her unruly hair back into place. She finally gave up the fight and took the pins out so she could redo the twist at her nape, watching James the whole time as he reached into his pocket and took out his wallet. His hand shook as he withdrew several hundred-dollar bills and set them on the table.

  Warmth suffused her cheeks now that reality had begun to intrude. Had she really just suggested to James that they go back to his office to have sex?

  Yup, no doubt about it. She had.

  I can’t believe I did that. Something about James brought out parts of her she hadn’t known existed. He made her daring. Made her forget things like rules and propriety and expectations. That frightened her almost as much as it exhilarated her.

  Her heart thrummed with excitement as she looked at James. The fact that she was even there with him in at that moment was unbelievable. He looked so smooth and elegant sitting there in his business casual dress, so unlike any man she’d ever been with. If not for the rigid set of his handsome chin or the tremble in his arms, she would never have guessed he was a man on the edge of control.

  Just the fact that she could affect him that way was astounding. Of all the women he could have at his side, for some reason he wanted her.

  It was a truly heady feeling.

  James unclenched his jaw with deliberate control as he turned his gaze to her. Blazing heat washed over her at the look of desire in his eyes. His lips curved into a little grin, as if he knew the effect he had on her.

  “Ready?” The word rolled from his mouth like a silky promise. She supposed, in a way, it was. After all, she knew firsthand what pleasure awaited her in his arms.

  “Okay,” she said, even though the longer she thought about it the crazier it seemed. Were they really going to go back to his crowded office and make love? It was insane. Unthinkable.

  Yet she wanted him.

  James rose and offered his hand to her. Lyssa grasped it and scooted across the booth, her whole body tingling from the mere touch of their hands. She turned to grab her jacket.

  “Lyssa.”

  Something in his tone made her spine go stiff. Turning, she straightened. “Yes?”

  He hesitated for a fraction of a second, a dark shadow swallowing the passion still evident in his gaze. “You know this changes nothing between us.”

  She froze. “What?”

  “Martin Freeman.” His lids lowered and his chest contracted with his next breath. “I still need his investment.”

  Her stomach dropped at James’s mention of the man who held both their futures in his hands. Reality returned with all the force of a slap to the face.

  “Of course, I realize that,” she snapped. It wasn’t like she’d thought he would suddenly change his mind about competing for funds with her just because she slept with him again. What kind of woman did he think she was?

  Sudden fury rose within her. She told herself that it was because he’d all but insinuated she was sleeping with him to sway him to her side. Not because some small part of her had hoped he would do that very thing. She wasn’t so naïve as to think a man she’d slept with would drop everything that mattered to him just because it might cause her harm.

  “Why would you even bring that up right now?” she snarled.

  His eyes widened and he shrugged. “I thought it needed to be said.”

  “That’s the last thing we need to discuss right now.”

  Oh, who was she kidding? It was the only thing that mattered.

  Her anger grew, more so at herself than at James. Somehow, she’d allowed herself to get caught up in the haze of sexual longing James aroused within her, when she should be focusing on her firm. On what would happen if she didn’t get the funds she needed to grow her company.

  Her family was counting on her. All this stuff with James was simply getting in the way. It was a distraction she couldn’t afford.

  “You know what? I think this was a big mistake.”

  James’s hand reached out to clasp her arm. “Lyssa—”

  She shrugged out of his grip. “I shouldn’t have come here with you, much less…well, you know.”

  A glimmer of hurt flashed in his eyes. “Don’t say that.”

  Lyssa opened her mouth to speak again, when she suddenly became aware of the other couple in the room. Their heads poked through the sheer curtain as they took in the argument. When they saw her notice them, they quickly tucked their heads back into their space, but the damage was done. Now she knew they were listening.

  Hell, for all she knew, they’d heard every last bit of the whole sordid affair, down to her whimpers and moans when James had brought her to climax.

  Jeez, I’m so freaking stupid.

  She had to get out of there.

  Tugging her jacket on, she avoided James’s gaze. “You’re right. This changes nothing. We need to focus on our respective companies and the reason we’re seeking investors to begin with.”

  “That’s not what I meant, and you know it,” James muttered. “Lyssa—”

  “Goodbye, James.” She turned on her heel and strode for the staircase as quickly as she could manage without looking like she was tucking tail and running.

  Which, in retrospect, was exactly what she’d done.

  Chapter Eight

  James had done more than his fair share of stupid things in his three decades plus of life, but he could firmly say that what had gone down at the restaurant was somewhere near the top. Problem was, he couldn’t figure out which part was the dumbest: taking Lyssa there to begin with, or mentioning Martin’s name before they left.

  The lust-addled part of his brain couldn’t help but think that if he hadn’t brought up Martin and his investment, Lyssa would be in
his office with him right now. Lord only knew what they’d be up to.

  Now after two incidents of stroking Lyssa to orgasm, of feeling her clench around his fingers while she came, his body was starving for relief. He was strung tight as a bow. If he’d thought it would be any help, he’d go into his private bathroom and relieve the tension. But he knew better.

  The pressure building up within him wasn’t likely to ease until he’d found his way inside her sweet, curvy body again.

  Damn, how had she managed to turn him into such a desperate fool in only two days? Clearly the woman was magic…and he was under her spell.

  There was a rap on his door and it opened a second later. James turned from his spot in front of the windows to see his younger brother Sam saunter in. Sam wore his trademark casual outfit of torn jeans and a t-shirt, over which he’d thrown a black leather jacket in deference to the cooler autumn breeze.

  James lifted a brow. His little brother hardly ever deemed to come into the office, and usually only when their older brother Andrew had pestered him into doing so. “What are you doing here? Did you lose a bet?”

  Sam smirked. “I was about to ask you what was up. Why are you skulking over by the window?”

  “Just doing some thinking.”

  He couldn’t very well confide in his little brother about his dilemma, especially since he knew what Sam would say. Probably something like, “Screw the expansion. Fucking live a little.”

  To say that Sam wasn’t on board with their global expansion would be an understatement. He thought it would only create more work for them, and according to Sam, they didn’t need any more money. While James secretly agreed, he had to support Andrew. After everything their older brother had done for them following their mother’s death, helping him succeed was the least he could do.

  “So…” James slipped his hands out of the pockets of his slacks and headed toward his desk. He slid into his leather chair. “What are you doing here?”

  Sam shrugged and sat on one of James’s leather guest chairs, placing his feet on top of the desk. “I was in the area and figured I’d drop by, remind Andrew about the art opening tomorrow.”

  Though Sam’s words and posture were casual, James got where he was coming from. Although Andrew had supported Sam’s artistic aspirations early on in his career, after their father had died he’d stopped going to Sam’s openings. Even though Sam had acted like it was no big deal, James knew it had bothered him.

  This was Sam’s first show since Andrew had started dating Hailey several months before, and while she had assured both James and Sam that they were both going, he understood why Sam might be nervous about it.

  “You’re going, right?” Sam added, almost as an afterthought.

  “Of course.” James waited a beat. “If nothing better comes up.”

  “Fuck you,” Sam said good-naturedly.

  James rumbled out a laugh. Sam knew nothing would keep him from going. While he might not always understand his little brother’s art, he knew the passion that went behind it—and the heartache. One didn’t lose a mother to a drug overdose and come out unscathed.

  A sudden thought came to him.

  His purpose in inviting Lyssa there today had been to help her understand why the expansion was so important to him, but he’d gone about it the wrong way. Showing her large, empty offices wasn’t the way to do it. He should’ve shown her what really mattered—his family.

  What better place to do that than Sam’s art opening? Everyone he considered family would be there. Perhaps if Lyssa were there too, he could make her understand why he couldn’t back off when it came to Martin Freeman.

  So what if you do get her to understand? What then?

  Was he really willing to go that far just to get in her pants again?

  Something in him rebelled at that thought. If he was going to be honest, he didn’t think of Lyssa in such casual terms. She was exciting and vibrant and different from the women he normally associated with. Yes, he wanted to get into her pants again, but it wasn’t just that. He wanted her to understand where he was coming from.

  Hell, he didn’t really know what the point was. Why he should even bother. It wasn’t like he was ready or willing to get into anything serious.

  At the same time, he wasn’t talking marriage here. It was only one night at an art opening, not a relationship.

  That thought stayed with him for the rest of his conversation with Sam and throughout the remainder of the day. Finally, at a quarter to six, he decided to stop overanalyzing and just go with his gut. He looked up the phone number to Lyssa’s office and dialed it.

  It rang three times. Just when James feared she’d left her office for the day, Lyssa answered.

  “North Star Digital,” she said, her voice cheery and polite.

  Shit, what do I say now? He should have thought it out a little further before calling her.

  “Hello?”

  He opened his mouth, and the words just tumbled out. “I’m sorry.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “About earlier at the restaurant,” he expounded. “I’m sorry.”

  “James,” she breathed, her voice going soft and distant.

  “I told myself I wouldn’t touch you, but it took all of five minutes for me to break that vow. My only excuse is that I couldn’t help myself.”

  “Oh, James.”

  “Let me make it up to you.” He dug his fingers into his desk. “My brother’s holding an art opening tomorrow night down in Soho. Come with me.”

  Lyssa gave a deep sigh. “What’s the point? It’s not going to change anything. We’re still on opposite sides here.”

  “I know. I do. It’s just…” He scrubbed his hand over his face. Damn, he was bungling this. Big time. “Just come. Please? At the very least, you’ll get to see some new art and have a few hors d'oeuvres. I’ll keep my hands to myself this time, I promise.”

  “I don’t know.” She sighed again and paused so long he thought she might’ve hung up. But finally she said, “When and where is it?”

  The weight on his chest lightened and he gave her the information.

  “Okay,” she said, her voice guarded. “I’m not making any promises, but….I’ll think about it.”

  “That’s all I ask.”

  “Good night, James.”

  She hung up before he could respond, leaving him to stare at the phone in befuddlement.

  What the hell was happening to him? Now he couldn’t even hold a conversation without feeling and sounding like an idiot.

  He didn’t understand why he cared so much what she thought of him, much less why he was making such an effort.

  Nonetheless, as he hung up and wrapped up for the night, he couldn’t help but hope he would see Lyssa at the opening tomorrow. Maybe then he could make her understand that he wasn’t the enemy, even if their circumstances had made it seem that way.

  ***

  The next evening, Lyssa stood across the street from the address James had given her, debating whether she should go inside. The façade of the art gallery contained floor-to-ceiling windows that allowed passersby to catch a glimpse of the art displayed on the walls, and the elaborate half-columns between the window panes were decoratively painted in a warm green. It served to create an inviting feel, and the number of people milling about at the propped open doors to the entrance told her it was going to be a packed show.

  None of that explained what she was doing there.

  When James had called to invite her, Lyssa’s first thought had been to wonder what his motivation was. From everything that had been said during their ill-fated restaurant trip, it was pretty much a given that nothing was going to change. They were still in competition for Martin’s investment, and her firm was still hopelessly outclassed. But there had been something in James’s voice, an unexpected pleading tone that had convinced her to come despite her misgivings.

  So here she was, even though she couldn’t stop wondering why he’d aske
d her to come to begin with.

  She’d woken up that morning and assured herself she wasn’t going to come. Yet even as she’d chosen her outfit for the day, she knew she was lying to herself. Oh, her black slacks were nothing out of the ordinary, but her peach silk blouse was. She’d bought it last winter to wear to a holiday event, along with the pearl earring and necklace set she now wore. Even though they were costume jewelry, the pieces were quality fakes that had set her back almost a hundred bucks. Clearly she’d had the gallery in mind when she’d slipped them on that morning. She’d also taken the time to roll her hair back into a loose chignon.

  Nadia had taken one look at her when she strode into the office and whistled. “What fancy event are you going to?”

  When her response of “Nothing” prompted a sassy “Bullshit” from Nadia, she confessed that James had invited her to his brother’s art opening.

  “Hey, look at that. You like him,” Nadia announced, setting her hands on her hips for emphasis. “I mean, really like him.”

  Heat suffused Lyssa’s cheeks and she oh-so wittily snapped, “No, I don’t.”

  “Interesting,” Nadia murmured, completely disregarding her denial. “I mean, I knew you liked him, obviously. You wouldn’t have had a one-night stand with someone you didn’t like. In fact, I still can’t believe you had one, period. But this, this thing you two have going on might actually amount to something.”

  “Of course it won’t.” Lyssa marched into her office with Nadia hot on her heels. “Have you forgotten we’re competing for Martin Freeman’s backing?”

  “No,” Nadia had responded. “Neither have you, so if you’re actually thinking about meeting him, you must seriously be into the guy.”

  No amount of contradiction had dissuaded Nadia from that opinion, and now that Lyssa was here in front of the gallery, she could understand why her friend was so convinced. Just the thought of seeing James again made her stomach erupt into a volley of butterflies. Even though she knew she should stay far away from him, that he represented the possible failure of her expansion, she still wanted to see him again.