Authors: Maggie Wells
“I was going to try to be a little professional. At least, until five o’clock,” he amended. “But if you want to start tossing the innuendo around now, just say ‘Go,’ sweetheart, and I’ll throw you up on the table and have you for lunch.”
Her pulse fluttered as she darted a look at the tiny table pushed up against the wall. She sincerely doubted it would hold the weight of the lasagna, much less two people hell-bent on devouring one another. Swallowing to soothe her parched throat, she bit the inside of her cheek in a weak attempt to control her raging hormones and marshal her thoughts.
“I wasn’t tossing innuendo. I was simply telling you that I am not a vegetarian.” She chuckled, trying to imagine how she’d have made it through two decades worth of rubber chicken, down-home barbecues, and church-sponsored spaghetti suppers subsisting on the ranch-drenched bits of iceberg lettuce people liked to call salad. “I’m a Southerner. We eat vegetarians for breakfast.”
That sparked a laugh from him. “You do?”
Letting one shoulder rise and fall in a manner that would have infuriated her mama, she smirked. “They go real well with buttered grits.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” He turned back to the containers but slid her a sidelong glance. “So, just so I’m clear, that’s a yes to lunch and a no to…
lunch
?”
Her cheeks flamed. “I’d love some chicken and just a little of the fettuccine, please.”
He bobbed a quick nod then grinned like a boy. “I was hoping I’d get the lasagna.”
Laughing, she retrieved two plates and set them on the counter as he rummaged through a drawer. “I’d be passed out at my desk by two if I ate that.”
Plastic spatula in hand, he looked down at the rich pasta dish then up at her. “Hmm. The desk would work.”
“Ha!” Shoving the edge of the plate hard into his stomach, she used his distraction as an opportunity to find her lunch. “You have a lot to learn about women, Will Tarrant.”
For the first time since she met him, he looked truly surprised. “I do?”
“Southern women, at least,” she conceded. “Never get between a Southern girl and her next meal.” She forked a grilled chicken breast onto the plate then added a portion of pasta far smaller than the heaping helping she truly wanted. She’d have to take it easy on the carbs if there was even a remote possibility of him seeing her naked. Sadly, she wasn’t twenty anymore. “That’s how a fella might lose a hand.”
* * * *
Lunch with Betty was a revelation. Yes, she was beautiful and smart, but Will had known that within the first two minutes at The Pump. He didn’t expect the easy conversation and earthy sense of humor. Beneath the cool, competent exterior and polite smile was a sharp wit backed by keen observational skills. The more he talked to her, the more he wanted her. Here on the table. There on the desk. Everywhere.
He watched as she took a sip of water, mesmerized by the way her bottom lip pressed against that lucky glass and aching to pull its slightly-too-full mate into his mouth again. She gave him one of her ice-queen glares as she lowered the glass, but he wasn’t fooled. Her eyes were warm and her mouth was slick. He wanted another kiss. Hard, hot, and deep. Deeper than the other night.
The tip of her pink tongue darted out to catch the moisture from her lip. Her eyes never left his. She was every bit as aware of him as he was of her. Hell, if she didn’t act so skittish, he’d think she was deliberately baiting him.
“I should get back to work.”
He placed a hand on her arm, and the hectic color in her cheeks told him she felt the same wave of heat that washed through him. “Take the afternoon off.”
“Will—”
“Don’t think. Thinking about things only leads to disappointment.”
The smile she gave him was wry, but her eyes sparkled with devilment. That was more like it. The air of recklessness she’d had the other night was back. All he wanted to do was add some kindling to that spark.
“Tell me you didn’t go home and think about me.” The legs of her chair scraped the floor as she stood, but Will didn’t relinquish his hold on her. Instead, he slipped his hand down to her wrist and wrapped his fingers around her. Tight enough to let her know this time he wouldn’t let her escape as easily as she had before. Eventually, he rose, too. “Do you want me to believe you didn’t lay awake that night like I did? Are you going to pretend you weren’t every bit as hot as I was?”
“I have a vibrator.”
Her teeth clicked when she snapped her jaw shut. Her eyes widened enough to let him know she hadn’t planned to divulge that particular bit of information. In that same instant, he pictured this pretty, proper Southern belle buried in a mountain of frilly pillows on a bed draped in that gauzy mosquito netting crap, fucking herself with a dildo, and damn if it didn’t make him hard as a goddamn rock.
He pulled her closer. “I may not vibrate, but I can guarantee that you won’t have to resort to using rubber dicks to get off if I’m around.” He lowered his head. Mouths millimeters apart, he held her gaze. “Say no now if you’re going to say it.”
“This is such a bad idea.”
“Wrong.” Bypassing her mouth, he trailed a line of tiny, fleeting kisses along her jaw. “It’s Fate.”
“It’s foolish.”
“You’re delicious.”
Ducking his next attempt at a kiss, she danced just out of his reach as she tucked her hand into jacket pocket. “I’m sure you can find someone else to snack on.”
She held a handful of pink message slips out like a shield. He caught sight of the word ‘Jennifer’ and then a phone number as he plucked them from her hand.
“But you’re the one I want.”
“For now.”
Dropping the papers without a second glance, he closed the distance between them. The messages scattered at her feet. He wound his fingers in her hair and gave a gentle tug, holding her close to him. “I told you. I want you. You’re the one I can’t get out of my head.” He chuckled when a helpless little whimper escaped her. A shiver of anticipation raced down his spine.
“I need this job, Will.”
“This has nothing to do with the job. I’m talking about you and me. For as long as we want each other.”
“Can it really be that simple?”
“It can if you let it. We’re two adults giving full and conscientious consent to a sexual relationship. Either one of us can end this at any time. No harm, no foul. No lawsuits, no recriminations. That is, if you still want me.”
“Yes.”
She whispered his favorite word again. He tilted his head to reward her with the kiss they both wanted so damn bad, but she turned to give him her cheek. She was pink and sweet as a ripe peach. Her skin was warm against his lips. Damn, he needed to taste her. Now.
But Betty planted a hand on his chest. “No hanky-panky here in the office.”
Will laughed and slid his free hand up to claim one of her breasts. To his delight and amusement, Betty let out a scandalized gasp then arched her back, pushing into his palm. He caught her ear lobe between his teeth and worried it until she went limp against him. He kneaded her through the fabric of her suit. Counting her bra, there were three layers of material between his bare skin and hers. Three too many. He teased her furled nipple through those maddening barriers.
“There’s going to be both hanky and panky here in the office, Ms. Asher, but I promise it won’t interfere with your work.”
“But we shouldn’t…your partner….”
Will raised his head. Staring straight into her eyes, he dismissed her concerns with a single shake. “You let me worry about Greg.” He’d tried to sound firm, but something he said seemed to have tickled her funny bone because she smiled that smile that crinkled the corners of her eyes. “What?”
“No recriminations, conscientious consent,” she mimicked. “Are you a lawyer or something?”
“I’m a builder.” The corners of his mouth twitched, but he suppressed the smile. It was disquieting to realize how much her amusement pleased him. “We like things to be clear, too.”
“So we’re doing this?”
The dewy softness in her voice shot straight to his groin. He swirled a thumb over the pointed tip of her breast, needing to weaken her resolve a little more. “Yes.”
“Now?”
Will swooped in to capture her mouth while the question still hung in the air. Warm, wet lips molded to his. Soft. Pliant. He teased them apart and took the kiss deep. Hot, commanding. He slid his tongue over hers, taking, giving, thrusting, and feinting. Needing to break down her reserve so he could get himself back on solid footing. Betty fisted her hand in his hair, gripping the back of his head. He broke away before she could wrest control from him.
She appeared startled, disappointed, and more than a little confused by the abrupt end of this kiss. Good. He wanted her off-balance. It served her right after leaving him in the lurch. He fixated on the delicate pulse in her throat. The heavy rise and fall of his own chest barely registered, but the heavenly slide of her fingers through his hair was making him hit the high end of the Richter scale when it came to spikes of hot lust pulsing through him.
“Dinner tonight?” The invitation slipped past his defenses, but the pink pleasure coloring her cheeks told him it was a winner.
“Yes.”
He almost roared like a lion when her fingernails raked lightly over his scalp.
“But why?”
He nuzzled her ear. “Why not?”
“I think we both know it isn’t necessary.”
“Very few things in life are absolutely necessary. Some are simply pleasurable.”
He drew the soft skin beneath her ear into his mouth and sucked. Not hard enough to leave a mark, but just enough to earn him a deep, throaty moan. Encouraged, he ran his tongue over that subtle but insistent throb.
“I want to get to know you, Betty.” He murmured the words into her skin, probably more shocked to realize they were true than she was to hear them. Needing to recover a little of his cool, he tried for a joking tone. “I’m not usually as easy as I was the other night.”
“Bullshit.” Betty’s laugh melted into a gasp when he covered her pulse with a hot, open-mouthed kiss.
He kissed and licked a meandering path down the column of her throat. “But I want to take my time. Prove there’s no technology in the world that can do what I can do.”
“Oh, I believe that.”
“Plus, there are a couple of things I really need to get done before the weekend.”
He dipped his tongue into the hollow at the base of her throat. What was it about that spot that tempted him? Humming with the pure pleasure of exploring her satiny skin, he kissed his way back up. There, he placed a tiny, almost chaste peck to the joint beneath her ear. “What do you say? Today, spreadsheets, tonight, my sheets?”
She cupped back of his head and arched her neck, silently begging for more. “God, that’s awful,” she chided. He raised his head, and she squirmed, her neat little body plastered against his. “Don’t stop.”
“You said it was awful.”
She glared, her frustration clear as day. “The joke, not the kissing.”
This time he didn’t fight the grin. “You like the kissing?”
She pressed the tip of her tongue to the center of her top lip, and his gaze dropped to her mouth. Her lips were swollen and pink, all traces of her lipstick gone. She tipped her face up, just asking for it. Suddenly, he couldn’t remember exactly how that whole breathing thing worked. Who knew that unraveling her would be his undoing? Christ, she was winning. Again.
Setting her firmly away from him, he gave his head a shake. “Work now, play later.”
She snapped to attention, blue-green eyes flashing. “But I thought you wanted to hanky my panky here in the office.”
Her voice was all Southern sass. Tendrils of streaky blond hair escaped the twist at her nape. The neat little hairdo she’d walked through the door with that morning was thoroughly and completely mussed, and he was damn proud of his work.
“God, I want you.”
The hoarse confession seemed to smooth her ruffled feathers. She raised her free hand to cradle his cheek. The pad of her thumb stroked the scar in his lip. She rubbed a spot near the corner of his mouth and he wondered if there was sauce on his face. She slid her thumb over his lower lip and he turned into the caress. Damn, she was good. His lips found the center of her palm. He left a lingering kiss there before pulling back once more.
“What did you do to the spreadsheets?” she whispered.
Will heaved a cleansing sigh then ran his hand over his face. His fingers brushed the spot she’d rubbed. He must have missed that tiny patch of hair when he’d shaved. The fact that she’d found it with such unerring accuracy meant he’d scraped her delicate skin with his bristles. But instead of feeling remorse for any discomfort he may have caused, he was pleased to think he might have left his mark on her.
“Let’s just say I fucked them nearly as good as I plan to fuck you.” Capturing her hand again, he pressed his lips to the inside of her wrist then looked her straight in the eye. “I can tell you this, I plan to enjoy fucking you more. Much, much more.”
A sizzle of sexual awareness hummed through Betty, adding extra decisiveness to every mouse click. High on the heat of just being near Will, she kept her eyes locked on the screen as her fingers flew across the keyboard. Despite the distraction of the man hovering behind her, she had the files straightened out in record time.
And before she could even shut the computer down, Will had her propped up on the desk, her legs wrapped around him, and his hands all over her.
Damn, if she wasn’t putty in those quick and clever hands. Hazy, sluggish thoughts vied with the racing of her heart. Her breasts felt full and heavy. Her nipples ached for the caress of his lips. Moisture pooled between her legs, dampening her thighs. She couldn’t even remember why she was supposed to be resisting him.
Betty tipped her head back, giving in to the demands of her body and issuing one of her own. “Now.”
Will chuckled. “We can wait.”
She wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince her or himself. It hardly mattered because his teeth scraped her skin and she nearly leaped straight out of it.