Good.
That made exactly one of them.
Twelve
Laura shifted in her seat at the conference table and did her best to concentrate on Blake droning on and on about facts and figures and every other boring thing under the sun. She loved her oldest brother, loved all her family, but sometimes she’d kill to be an only child. Or at least exiled, like Jace. The guy didn’t know how lucky he had it right about now.
She grabbed some veggies from the tray in the middle of the table and did her best to crunch her carrots quietly while Liv—who had somehow ended up in the chair right beside hers despite her efforts to the contrary—continued to pester her about Mike.
“I heard on the radio that they’ve brought in another person for questioning in that murder case,” Liv whispered, glancing at Laura over her shoulder. “Didn’t you talk to that artist too?”
“Yeah. Felicia Gomez.” She kept her voice low to avoid Blake’s detection. “And I was there when the cops took her in earlier.”
“Really? Was your cute cop friend there too?”
“The operative word being ‘friend.’” Laura gave her sister an exasperated look. “And yeah, Troy was there.”
“So no arrest yet?”
“Not yet.”
“But this girl is off her nut, right? Sounds pretty guilty to me.”
“Guess it’s a good thing you’re not in charge then, huh? What happened to innocent until proven otherwise?”
“Oh, come on.” Liv reached back and smacked her on the arm. “You can’t tell me you aren’t jumping for joy.”
“Why would I care?” She did her best to keep her tone neutral and not let her immense relief show.
“Because it’s not him.”
“Who?”
“Don’t play dumb with me, Sis.” Liv gave her a disparaging stare. “Mike. Now you two can get down and dirty and keep your conscience clear.”
“Something you’d like to share with the rest of us, ladies?” Blake said, his voice stern.
Shit.
Laura felt like she was back in kindergarten getting caught painting some other kid’s hair blue because he’d had the gall to say hateful things about her favorite cookie-hoarding monster. “No.”
Garrett, her younger brother, snorted. “All I heard was Laura was getting down and dirty with somebody.”
“Shut up.”
“Bet I know who it is.” This from Logan, another brother—older by two years and too nosy for his own good, in Laura’s opinion anyway. He grinned at her, his usual arrogant self. “Does his name start with a T?”
“Nope.”
Liv chuckled. “His name’s Mike McQuade.”
“I said, shut up!” She kicked Liv in the shin for good measure. Her love life was none of their business. “I’m not getting down or dirty. With anyone. Drop it.”
All eyes remained on her. She wanted to smack the smug right off all their faces. Livid, her words to her eldest brother emerged as little more than a growl. “What?”
Blake gave Laura a funny look. “Nothing. If we could get off your sex life and get back on track with this meeting, that would be great.”
In response, she picked up one of her carrots and hurled it at his head.
He easily ducked out of the way, his mulish expression more appropriate for a spinster schoolmarm than a dashing CEO. “Very mature. Do I need to put you in the corner too?”
“Do it!” Garrett laughed. “I’d pay money to see that.”
Laura glared over at him.
“And stop wasting food, Sis.” Logan snagged a carrot of his own and swirled it through the bowl of dip in the middle of the tray before shoving it into his mouth. “Mom would be appalled.”
She gave him the fakest smile ever and flipped him off for good measure.
“Can we ever have a nice, civilized, normal meeting in this family?” Blake looked ready to string them all up by their toenails. He sighed heavily and picked up his papers again. “Fine. Whatever. Now, for the reason I called this meeting.”
Finally. Laura wisely kept that comment to herself.
“I’m sure you all remember Chase Evans.” Blake met each person’s gaze. When he came to Laura, she nodded. Chase Evans had worked with Blake in a security firm years ago, before Blake founded Rockford Security. Chase had saved Blake’s life during an armed robbery attempt, though he’d refused to take any credit for it. None of the Rockfords would ever forget Chase Evans, even though he’d later been convicted on drug-dealing charges. Laura had thought that odd for a guy who worked security and was studying to be a lawyer, but she’d seen odder things. There were extenuating circumstances, if she remembered correctly, not to mention his tough life. Blake continued. “Well, he’s about to get out of prison, and I’d like to offer him a job.”
Laura shrugged. “Hire him then. You’re CEO. You don’t need us for that.”
“According to our employment guidelines, he’s not eligible without board approval,” Blake said, “due to his criminal record.”
“His ‘criminal record.’” Logan added air quotes for emphasis. “Right.”
“We all know he took the rap for his brother,” Laura said.
“Yeah. Chase is fine.” Liv straightened. “Now, if you wanted to hire his brother, I’d have a problem.”
“Good.” Blake’s tense posture relaxed. “Thanks, guys.”
“And gals.” Laura gestured between her and Liv. “Don’t forget us.”
Blake picked up the lint-covered carrot and held it between two fingers like it was toxic sludge. “How could we?” He tossed it into a nearby trash can. “Things will be tough enough for Chase when he gets out without worrying about finding work. I appreciate you all being so open-minded.”
Garret scoffed, pushing to his feet and stretching his arms overhead. “Nothing to be open minded about where he’s concerned.”
“Exactly.” Logan stood as well. “Chase will be a good addition to the team around here. Like a new member of the family.”
“Yeah.” Garrett directed his attention to Laura once more. “Speaking of additions to the family, who’s this Mike McQuade guy?”
She gave him and Liv both a deadly glare then grabbed her stuff and sprinted for the door like a cheetah on speed. She wasn’t ready to talk about Mike with her family. Hell, she’d barely had time to think about this new thing with him herself and had no idea if it would even go anywhere. The last thing she wanted was the third degree from her siblings, good-natured though it was. “Got to go. Deadline.”
“Right.” Her brothers called in unison as she fled down the hall to the exit. “Deadline to diddle, you mean.”
She laughed all the way back to the Impala.
Doing anything, including a diddle or two, with Mike suddenly sounded like the best idea in the world.
Thirteen
Fifteen minutes later, Laura pressed the Call button in the lobby of the Turnberry. She’d not intended to come back here again so soon. She’d intended to head home, change into her PJs, maybe do a final revision on her article for her editor J.J., then go to bed early. She wanted to get a good night’s sleep before confronting her editor the next day about giving her the byline for her story. She’d earned it, dammit.
It was her time to shine, not do all the legwork for Dog Turd Davis.
Yet here she stood, eight-thirty at night, no guarantee Mike was even home, her pulse racing and her panties damp with desire.
Maybe she should just leave, just forget about all of this, just chalk up this whole crazy attraction between them to exhaustion and bad decisions and move the hell on. Maybe she should just…
“Yes?” Mike’s voice, low and slightly rough, oozed through the speaker like sex on steroids, and fresh heat flared low in her belly. “Laura? What are you doing back here?”
She raised her hands to show the coffee and brownies she’d picked up at the 1020. “My meeting ended earlier, so I thought if you were free…”
He mu
mbled something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like a curse, and her heart tripped. Perhaps he wasn’t alone. She hadn’t considered the possibility before, but they’d never really discussed those areas of his life.
“Okay, fine.” He buzzed her in, and the elevator doors swished open. “But I wasn’t really prepared for guests tonight.”
“Okay, no prob. I won’t stay long, promise.” She stepped in, and her stomach nosedived as the car lurched skyward. Considering the state of her own living quarters, she had no room to talk about anyone else’s mess. Besides, the guy’s place always looked pretty impeccable, at least from what she’d observed. How bad could things be?
The elevator dinged and the doors slid open, and she stepped off, fully prepared to assure him that the penthouse looked great, as always. Except, what she saw didn’t look great. It looked…well, it looked incredible.
He cringed slightly at her speechless state and took the tray of coffee and food from her motionless hands. “Sorry. I warned you I wasn’t prepared for guests.”
Right.
What it appeared he was ready for was bed. He stood before her in nothing but a pair of plaid boxers slung low on his hips, revealing his taut abs and muscled chest, the V of muscles that drove women wild about men’s hips, and long, strong, well-shaped legs with just a dusting of dark hair.
Her stomach clenched from hunger, but not for food.
He set the coffee aside then lifted the same hand to scratch his fingers through his messy hair. In the other hand he held a toothbrush. “Uh, have a seat,” he said, indicating the living room once more. “I’ll just finish up in the bathroom. Be right back.”
“Sure.” She set her bag aside and shrugged out of her jacket then walked over to the floor-to-ceiling windows lining one wall. The lights of the Strip twinkled like jewels in the black-velvet night, and she took a deep breath before turning back to face the room.
Mike now stood on the other side of the room, sans toothbrush, watching her, his arms crossed. The air between them seemed to sizzle with awareness. He padded back into the room and pulled a coffee from the tray. “Probably shouldn’t be drinking this so late at night. I’ve got a busy day tomorrow.”
“Me too.” She walked over and pulled her cup out too. “I’ve got an interview with a one-hundred-five-year-old woman in the morning. She says video games have changed her life.”
“Changed her life, huh?” He chuckled. “Did she lose her retirement savings buying them for her grandkids or something?”
“No.” She smacked him on the arm then pulled away fast, her fingertips tingling from the brief contact. “She plays them herself. Won a few tourneys, too, from what her bio said.”
“Seriously?” His eyes twinkled over the rim of his cup.
“Seriously.” She shook her head and gave him a disparaging look. “Aren’t you the one who’s always touting how they’re for players of all ages?”
“Yeah. I guess I am.” A flicker of heat sparked through his warm brown gaze. “Want to sit?”
“Um.” She glanced behind her at the couch, the scene of their earlier erotic tryst, and moved toward the armchair instead. “Okay.”
“Coward,” he mumbled, so quietly she would’ve missed it if she wasn’t so totally aware of him.
“I’m sorry?” Laura asked as she settled into her seat. “I didn’t hear what you said.”
“Nothing.” His lips quirked into that sexy little half smile again. “Not important.”
“All righty then.” She leaned forward and grabbed one of the small plastic containers. “Brownie?”
“Sure. I never turn down chocolate.” He passed her a napkin and fork, his fingers lingering against hers a tad longer than necessary. “Best baked goods ever.”
“I know, right?” She opened her box and took a bite, but she could’ve been chewing on cardboard for all the attention she paid. All she could concentrate on was the way the sleek muscles of Mike’s throat worked when he swallowed, the way he bit his lower lip as he relished the deep cocoa goodness of the brownie, the tiny crumb that clung to the corner of his mouth. God, what she wouldn’t give to swipe away that crumb with her tongue.
“You okay?” he asked, his tone laced with amusement. His gaze narrowed on her, the knowing look in his eyes far too perceptive.
“I’m fine.” She stuffed another large bite of brownie into her mouth before she did something stupid, like melt into a puddle of goo at his feet. Would’ve worked, too, if she hadn’t inhaled some of the powdered sugar sprinkled on top and started choking. Doubled over and eyes watering, she hacked her head off.
Way to be a lady, Laura.
Mike rushed to her side and pounded on her back. “Are you okay?”
She tried to talk, but her coughing interrupted.
Finally, she caught her breath and raised a hand to signal she was still alive, tears streaming down her face. Mike continued to rub her back as he crouched by her side. Even in her discombobulated state, the heat of him warmed her from the inside out. She peeked over at him, admiring the definition in his thigh muscles and most especially the way his shorts had ridden up his legs. Just another inch and…
“Laura?” he asked, pushing the hair away from her face and cupping her cheek. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
She was many things at the moment—embarrassed, excited, enchanted—but okay wasn’t one of them. She swallowed hard and nodded slowly, swiping the back of her hand over her wet cheek. Her answer croaked out of her abraded throat, bullfrog deep. “Yes.”
“Yeah?” There it was again, that sexy smile. Was it her imagination or had he leaned in just a bit closer. “You sure?”
Her gaze dropped to his lips, to the way his tongue swept out to slick over his full bottom lip, the crumb still lingering on his skin. Without thought, she reached out and traced her finger over it, brushing away the crumb and igniting a wildfire of lust deep in her core. “Positive.”
“I do like a woman who’s positive.” He closed the small space between them and kissed her deeply. It was just like she remembered. Like drowning in a warm pool of liquid desire.
So hot, so right, so irresistible.
“Laura,” he murmured, pulling away to trail kisses across her cheek to her ear. “I want you so badly I ache. All I could think about tonight was you and I, on that sofa earlier.”
“Me too.” She plunged her hands into his hair again, pulling him closer as he nuzzled the sensitive skin of her neck. “I want you, Mike.”
“I want you too, Laura.” He moved lower, shoved the collar of her shirt aside to trace his tongue along her collarbone. “This is a one-time thing though, right?”
At that point she would’ve agreed with anything as long as it meant she got to sleep with this gorgeous man. “Of course. Tomorrow we forget it ever happened.”
“Are you sure?” He pulled away to undo the buttons down the front of her shirt again, this time his fingers shaking slightly. “I just don’t want to mislead you. I’m a busy man and—”
Laura placed her fingers over his lips. “Absolutely sure.”
She kissed him and ran the backs of her fingers down the center of his chest, over the ridges of his abdomen, to the waistband of his boxers before slipping inside to take his hard length in hand. His strong body shuddered against her, and she smiled, a twinge of power and affection in her veins. To think she had the power to affect him with just a touch, just a look.
He slipped her shirt off her shoulders, and she pulled it the rest of the way off then tossed it on the floor. Then she reached behind her and unclasped her bra, discarding that as well, before sliding her hands around his waist and pulling him against her, chest to chest, skin to skin.
They both moaned from the intimate contact.
“Damn,” he growled. “You are so beautiful.”
“So are you.” She reached around and slid her hands into the rear of his boxers to cup his firm ass. The muscles tensed against her palms, and her breath hitc
hed. He really was built like her every dream come true. She wanted to taste and touch and explore every delicious inch of him. But not here. Someplace more comfortable. Laura pulled back and took his hand. “C’mon.”
“Where are we going?” He kept one hand around her waist, his voice tinged with passion.
“Bedroom.” She stopped at the doorway near the kitchen. “Where is it?”
Before she knew what was happening, he swept her up in his arms and carried her down a short hall toward the back of the apartment. “Allow me, Princess.”
“Princess?” She laughed. “Never been called that before.”
He walked into a spacious room with more big windows and a huge bed at its center. Mike tossed her into the middle of the mattress then stared down at her, one brow raised in pure alpha-male cockiness. “Get used to it. Because that’s what you’ll feel like when I’m done with you.”
“Really?” She giggled as he tugged off his boxers then yanked her feet toward him, climbing over her to unsnap and unzip her jeans then tug them off of her, along with her panties, in one fell swoop. When he stood before her again, hands on hips, all humor disappeared. His intellect wasn’t the only gifted part of him. Breath quickened, she couldn’t stop staring at his cock—long, thick, ready.
“Like what you see?” He climbed up onto the bed again, stretching out beside her then propping himself up on one elbow to trace a finger over her erect nipples. “’Cause I’m loving my view.”
“Yeah?”
“Oh yeah.” He leaned in and kissed her again, soft and light at first, then deepening as their desire built. Mike gently cupped her breast and circled his thumb around her areola. “You are so pretty, all soft and warm and luscious, Princess.”
She ran her hands over his torso, his abs, anywhere she could reach. “I thought computer geeks were supposed to be flabby and inexperienced.”
He snorted. “And I thought reporters were all talk and no play.”
“That’ll teach you, huh?”
“You, too.” He waggled his brows at her then rolled her beneath him, ending their conversation as he lavished kisses over her body—mouth, neck, breasts, stomach.
Fatal Games (The Rockford Security Series Book 2) Page 11