by Anna Durand
A knock rattled the door. "Keely? A shipment arrived. I know you like to unpack those yourself."
What were the odds? The one time I was going down on a man in my office somebody had to interrupt.
Though I stopped working his shaft, I kept my hand around it. "Be there in a minute, Paige. Get back to the counter, please."
"Okay."
I waited several seconds to make sure she'd left the vicinity before I gave Evan's cock a long, slow lick from the base to the head. He squeezed his eyes shut, his features contorted with need. I flicked my tongue over the slit on the underside, again and again, while I pumped him with my hand.
His body went rigid, frozen with his back bowed and his mouth open.
With one final flick of my tongue, I swallowed his shaft.
Evan exploded. He choked back a cry.
I grabbed a tissue off the box on the table and wiped him down with it. "Sorry I don't have a damp towel to clean you off with. I wasn't expecting to do this, but the mood struck and…" I wiped my mouth and smacked my lips. "I couldn't resist."
He gaped at me, struggling to catch his breath. "Keely, you are incredible. The best lover I've ever had."
"The best ever?" I smiled and parked my bottom on the tabletop. "That's quite the compliment, Mr. MacTaggart."
He ran a hand through his hair and did up his pants. "You've earned the compliment. I was right, you do have no shame at all."
And he liked that about me, which made me like him all the more.
Evan squinted at me, his head tipped to the side. "Those erseholes made you feel ashamed of your enthusiasm for sex, didn't they?"
"They weren't adventurous." I clasped my hands on my lap. "They all liked getting blow jobs, but apparently I was too enthusiastic about it. Bryce, my second ex-husband, said it was unseemly for a woman to enjoy giving a man oral sex. I asked him how exactly he thought I should act about it, and he told me I should be more demure."
Evan twisted his face into a look of sheer disgust and disbelief. "The scunner had an incredible woman in his bed, and all he could do was suggest you be demure? Mhac na galla."
"What does that one mean?"
"Son of a bitch." He shook his head. "Cannae believe these bloody erseholes you were involved with. Didn't even one of them appreciate you the way you are?"
"No, not really."
He sat forward and grasped my hands. "No wonder you're afraid to get involved with me. I'd like to know more about the second ex-husband."
"I have to get out there and check that shipment."
"That's what employees are for. Delegate, Miss O'Shea."
I lifted my head to aim a sarcastic look at him. "Right, you know all about delegating. You're so skilled at it that you have to go to the factory when somebody orders the wrong part."
"That was different."
"Sure it was." I jumped up and patted the top of his head. "You scoot on out of here like a good little employee and get back to work or else I'll have to reprimand you."
A sly grin spread across his face. "I'd love that."
I smacked his arm with the back of my hand. "Go, Evan. You're supposed to be working here like everybody else."
"Do all your employees get serviced by the assistant manager?"
"Oh sure, I go down on everybody." I grabbed his arm and tugged. "Get up. Go. Pronto."
He rose in a leisurely manner, stretching and yawning. "My boss wears me out."
I pushed him toward the door. "Shoo."
"Aren't you coming? You have that important shipment to unpack and verify like the bossy wee boss you are."
"Be there in a minute. Scoot."
I waved for him to leave.
He slung an arm around my waist and dragged me into his body for a kiss. The second our lips met, I melted into him. He didn't thrust his tongue into my mouth, though. He held the kiss for a long moment, our lips fused, my heartbeat accelerating with each passing second. Then, he walked out the door.
For the next hour, I unpacked the shipment and verified every item on the purchase order matched the contents of the three boxes. After that, I recruited Evan and Paige to help me carry the boxes into the back room where we kept our inventory that wasn't out on the floor. I'd already selected the items to put on the shelves and left them on the customer service counter. We stowed the boxes and returned to the floor to put the new items out on the shelves and racks.
Every time I knelt down or bent over, I caught Evan admiring my ass.
And every time he knelt down or bent over, I ogled his ass.
I ate lunch alone in my office since Evan had told me last night he had an important errand to run today. For the rest of the afternoon, I slaved over spreadsheets and purchase orders while Evan stayed out on the floor. When I went to the restroom, I came back to my office to find a package awaiting me on my desk. The slim, rectangular box was white and held shut with a satin ribbon.
Plopping into my chair, I rolled it forward and untied the satin bow. I removed the box's lid. Inside it lay a black garment, folded neatly. I lifted the garment out by its straps.
A halter dress, a short and sexy one.
I noticed a small card inside the box and picked it up. A note written in Evan's hand said, "Wear this tonight. Meet me at my place at seven."
After that, he'd scrawled an address. It was not the address of his motel.
What on earth was he up to this time?
I returned the dress to its box and tried to focus on work, but my gaze kept wandering back to the box and my mind kept wondering what he had planned.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Evan
At precisely seven o'clock, I watched from the porch while Keely pulled her ancient car into the driveway of the house on Elm Avenue. As soon as her car had come to a stop and she'd shut off the engine, I trotted over to open the driver's door for her. Her closed lips curled up in a sweet smile. I offered her my hand, and she laid her elegant one in my palm to let me help her out of the vehicle. In her other hand, she grasped what looked like a small briefcase.
I kissed her cheek. "Good evening, Keely. What have you brought with you?"
"Good evening," she said carefully as if she expected a terrible surprise at any moment. She held up the strange little case. "It's my overnight bag."
"Planning to stay the night, then?"
"Absolutely."
I took half a step backward to admire her outfit. "You are breathtaking in that dress. You're always breathtaking, of course, but you make that dress more than a piece of fabric. It's a masterpiece on you."
"I never know how to respond to your over-the-top compliments. 'Thank you' doesn't seem like enough." She swept her gaze up and down my body. "You are breathtaking too. I love the suit. It shows off all your gorgeous muscles. I have to admit I'm a little disappointed you didn't wear a kilt."
"Next time I'll get out the kilt."
She glanced around. "What is this place?"
"A house." I spread one arm to indicate the entirety of the large, two-story structure. "Welcome to my new home."
"Your what?" She tipped her head to the side and squinted her eyes. "You rented a mansion?"
"No, I bought a house."
"Why?"
Did she have to sound so baffled by the idea? I'd hoped she might be happy I was planting roots here in America, hoped she might see it as a commitment to our relationship. Instead, she acted like I'd done something insane. Again.
"I'm tired of the motel," I explained. "Since I'll be here for a while, I thought buying a house would be the best option. Financially, it's a better investment than renting."
"How long are you planning to stick around? I thought this was a brief stint undercover at the store so you could learn about our business."
For pity's sake, she wasn't that dense. Was she? I'd thought only men misunderstood things that were obvious, but Keely was proving me wrong. An intelligent woman like h
er couldn't fail to see the truth. With an inward groan, I realized she would. Keely had called dating "drastic." She wouldn't want to admit what we both knew because she was afraid.
Taming Keely might take longer than I'd anticipated.
I ran a hand over my jaw, trying not to get annoyed. "We both know bloody well why I'm here in America and why I wanted to work undercover at the store. You are the reason."
"But I didn't think…I mean, I assumed you would get bored and go home."
"Ah, Keely." I rubbed my hands up and down her arms. "I'm not like those other men. You are my priority, above business, above everything else. I want us to work. No matter how long it takes, I will prove you can trust me."
"I'm your priority? But you're obsessed with work."
"I was. Not anymore." I dug my phone out of my pocket, turned on the screen, and aimed it at her. "Here's the proof. Have a look."
Keely squinted at the screen, reading the words on it. Her gaze flew to me. "You have ten missed calls from Tamsen Spurling and a dozen texts from her."
"Aye."
"Why are you ignoring her? She says you need to call her ASAP."
"I'll call her when I'm good and ready." I returned the phone to my pocket. "Tonight, I'm focused on you, on us. Work doesn't seem as important anymore."
"But your company. What if it falls apart without you?"
"Thank you for assuming I'm indispensable, but I've got a company full of well-trained, intelligent, resourceful men and women who are thoroughly capable of running Evanescent without me."
"You're the CEO."
For the moment. I was considering retirement or at least a severe cutback in how much time I spent on the company. Telling her that tonight would only escalate her anxiety. I suspected she'd never been with a man who'd valued her above everything else.
I placed an arm around her shoulders and guided her toward the porch. "Let's forget about work for tonight. I have a surprise for you in the backyard."
"Do I want to know what surprise you have up your sleeve this time?"
"It wouldn't fit up my sleeve. It's in the backyard."
We strolled through the house, pausing so Keely could set down her overnight bag. She turned in a circle to take in the high-ceilinged entryway and the curving staircase that led to the second floor. I would show her the rest of the house later. Right now, I guided her past the staircase and through the large kitchen and walked us out the back door into the yard.
Keely froze, not even blinking. "What is this?"
"What it looks like. A special setting just for you."
I watched her while she absorbed the scene I'd created. Her shock gradually dissolved into a smile of pure delight.
The patio housed a glass-top table that I'd outfitted with a white tablecloth, and I'd set out all the dishes and silverware we might need along with the appropriate glassware. Two candles occupied the center of the table, their flames flickering gently. All around the spacious yard, I'd set up torches to light the surroundings with a romantic, golden glow. A cart held all the foods I'd prepared, hidden under half-dome covers, and an ice bucket held a bottle of champagne.
I escorted Keely to the table, pulled out her chair, and pushed it back in when she sat down.
"Thank you," she said, still with a hint of disbelief in her voice.
"You're welcome." I moved to the cart and plucked the metal cover off one plate, then carried it to the table. I placed it in front of Keely. "Your meal, prepared by me."
"Wow. This looks delicious. Is that salmon?"
"Yes, with a butter sauce and served on a bed of wild rice and with garlic potatoes on the side."
"Mmm," she hummed, dipping her head to inhale the scents of the food. "This smells heavenly."
She took a deep breath, drawing in more of the scents. The halter dress plunged low over her chest, giving me a breathtaking view from this height. When she'd inhaled so deeply, her full breasts had lifted—and all the blood had evacuated my brain, pouring straight into my groin.
I rushed back to the cart to give Keely my back, so she wouldn't notice the erection growing inside my slacks. My suit jacket didn't extend low enough to hide my response to her sensual body. I'd wanted tonight to be about getting to know each other better, with sex afterward. My cock had a different plan, but I meant to hold it back as long as possible.
After popping the cork on the champagne, I poured some into each of our glasses. I settled into my chair and held out my glass. "A toast to us. To the future, whatever it may hold, and to the bonnie woman sharing an evening with me."
Keely hesitated but finally raised her glass to clink it against mine. "To a lovely evening."
We sipped our champagne and set down our glasses.
Keely speared a bite of salmon and slid the fork between her lips. She withdrew it slowly, moaning with satisfaction as she consumed her food.
"This is so good," she said, her voice sultry. "You are an amazing cook, Evan."
I shifted in my seat, but instead of alleviating my discomfort, it made my dick go harder. "Glad you like the food."
"The setup is gorgeous too." She took in the torch-lit scene. "You sure know how to romance a girl."
"You're a woman, Keely, and this is all for you. Only you."
"Are you saying you've never gone all out like this for anyone else?"
I shook my head, tore off a chunk of fish with my fork, and jammed it into my mouth. Focusing on my food gave me an excuse to look away from her and to try to forget, for a moment, how stunning she was in that dress. But I couldn't forget. "I'd like us to talk more."
"We are talking." She took another bite of salmon.
"I meant we should get to know each other more. Talk about our pasts."
She swallowed a mouthful of rice and pointed her fork at me. "You have mommy issues, I have man issues, end of story."
"There's more to us than that." I poked at my fish but couldn't get interested in eating it anymore. "You haven't told me about your second ex-husband or the man in between husbands."
Keely set down her fork, leaning back in her chair. "Not much to tell. Wes, the man in between, convinced me living together was better than marriage. We didn't need a piece of paper to prove our commitment to each other, we had real love, blah, blah, blah. I went along with it because my first marriage had gone bust. Maybe Wes was right. Who needs marriage?"
I regarded her in silence, her face lit by the golden glow of the candles and torches. The lighting imbued her face with an ethereal quality that didn't match her melancholy expression. "A relationship like that might work for other people, but you don't seem like the sort of woman who believes marriage is a sham. Since the night we met in Paris, I've known you're a woman who needs a serious commitment, the sort a man wants to marry even if he didn't believe in marriage before."
She fiddled with her silverware. "That's the problem. I was trying to be what Wes wanted because I wanted him. Once again, I fell for a pretty face and expected to find a lasting relationship at the end of the rainbow. All I got was a downpour. After four years and eleven months together, I cautiously suggested maybe we could get married after all."
"I take it he didn't react well to the suggestion."
"Nope." She smacked her knife down on the table and met my gaze head-on. "He summarily dumped me. Two weeks later, Wes moved in with a twenty-year-old college student. I was twenty-nine, about to turn thirty, and no longer a hot property."
Not a hot property? American men were bleeding morons if they dismissed a beautiful, sensual woman like Keely as being too old at twenty-nine. I couldn't accept all American men held that opinion about women, but Keely seemed to attract erses who did.
"He was an eejit," I said. "You are a hot property even today. That bod ceann has no idea what he lost."
She picked at the tablecloth, her gaze downcast. "After Wes, I realized I shouldn't try to be what a man wants. If he can't love me the way I
am, we don't belong together."
"Dead right."
Her lips twitched upward. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, but I haven't exactly found relationship bliss by being myself either. Men don't like a bossy woman, particularly in the bedroom. I'm overzealous and domineering, that's what other men have said."
"About sex with you?" I grunted. "Donnae believe a word any of those other men said. You are the most passionate, exciting woman I've ever taken to bed. You are not domineering. You know what you like and speak up about it. I love those qualities. I love everything about you."
I realized I'd said too much the instant her demeanor changed. Her back went straight as a pole, her shoulders rolled back, and her chin lifted. Whether she was upset about my compliments or about my use of the L word, I couldn't tell for sure.
"That's nice," she said, her tone far too even, "but you would probably say anything to make sure we have sex tonight. You've gone without for weeks."
"It's been twenty days. And yes, I'm looking forward to making love to you tonight." I was fighting back the stiffest erection I'd ever had but keeping that fact to myself didn't seem like lying. It was self-preservation. "You did take care of my needs in your office this afternoon. It wasn't making love, but it eased the pressure."
"I wish you wouldn't call it that."
"Making love? That's what it is. Why does the term fash you?"
"Because men like to say they're making love to me, say they love me even, but they don't mean it." She picked up her champagne glass and swigged the bubbly liquid. "Words are empty."
"You're trying to end the conversation so you won't have to share anything else with me. I don't give up that easily."
"I'm all too familiar with your pigheaded nature."
"Tell me about your second husband."
She downed the rest of her champagne in one gulp, smacking her glass down on the table. "This is turning into a one-sided conversation. I rip open my old wounds so you can gawk at the blood while you sit there safe and sound, not sharing anything."
Was I doing that? I supposed so. The only things I hadn't told her already involved the worst mistakes I'd made, but none of them involved romantic relationships. I had nothing of equal value to tell her. It was no excuse, and I knew it. Her pain centered on the men in her life, while my secrets centered on my business.