Fair Game (5 page)

It was a lesson. She was afraid of being compromised, and he’d make sure nothing happened that would put her in jeopardy. Any fraternization between them would occur outside of work hours and off business property.

Totally separate.

Which was why it was a damn good thing that by the time he was driving her back over the hill from the quarry tomorrow, it would be after five. Because he had plans for her.

 

 

LYDIA Gomez started crying. Her eyeliner smudged beneath her eyes, and she leaned forward until her long, dark hair fell across her face, hiding the tear streaks on her cheeks.

Standing beside her, Ernie patted her shoulder. He’d called the meeting for nine thirty Tuesday morning because Andrew Ronson had a long drive from Tracy and didn’t get in early. They’d gathered in the conference room. Two of the program managers were present, Eastman and Ronson, with the other two, Jenkins and Walker, on speakerphone, since they were on site in West Virginia and Washington state, respectively. Then there was Lydia, the group’s admin. No one had taken a seat. Silent, tense, they’d suspected something was going down after the amount of time Josie had been in Ernie’s office yesterday.

Lydia, twenty-five and highly emotional in the best of times, burst into tears when Ernie said he’d be going out on medical leave and not returning.
Ever
, he’d added, when Lydia had pressed him.

They’d all known what it meant.

Lydia’s crying made it easier to ignore that there wasn’t a dry eye in the house. Josie handed the girl a box of tissues from the coffee counter.

Then Ernie clapped his hands. “Okay, well, so . . .”

He sucked in a deep breath, and Josie felt his pain at having to deal with it all. She knew Connor had offered to handle the meeting for him, but Ernie refused. This was his job, his responsibility, his department, his
family
. Josie’s admiration for him and her guilt rose in equal degrees.

“I’ve discussed it thoroughly with Connor, and we’re promoting Josie to take over the department.” Nobody said a word. Ronson, however, shot a harsh breath out of his nose as Ernie went on. “We’ve looked over her existing projects and farmed them out appropriately, and this morning I submitted a requisition to Human Resources for a senior level program manager. Connor’s signed off on it for immediate activation.”

He paused. No one argued. Josie didn’t expect congratulations. Under the circumstances, she didn’t want them.

“Any questions?” Ernie asked.

Lydia raised her hand.

“You’re not in school anymore, Lydia, you can just ask.” For the two years she’d worked at Castle, Ernie had treated Lydia like a charming little girl. Or like one of his daughters.

“When are you . . . leaving?”

Josie’s stomach clenched, and her eyes ached again.

“Today, I think.” He didn’t say he was tired or that he’d been hanging on by the thinnest thread, though Josie knew that’s how it must be for him. He didn’t ask for pity.

Lydia sniffed and applied the tissue beneath her eye to capture another tear.

“Anyone else?” he asked.

Out of respect for him, no one dared. Whatever fallout they’d experience, nobody was going to make Ernie deal with it.

“Well, then, it’s been great. You’re a good group. I wish you all the best of luck.” He smiled as if he was off to a bigger, better opportunity instead of . . . “I’ll just pack up a few things, then I’ll stop by to see each of you individually.” He leaned into the speakerphone. “Jenkins, Walker, I’ll give you guys a call, too, okay?”

“Sure thing.”

Josie wasn’t sure which of the two had spoken. She didn’t make everyone stay after Ernie walked out the door, nor did she schedule a meeting to discuss new assignments. She’d wait until tomorrow for that, after they’d all had time to wrap their minds around the fact that Ernie was gone.

Dammit, not
gone
gone, but out of the building. Oh Lord. This sucked. It didn’t get any better when Ernie walked out the department door for the last time, a banker’s box of personal effects in his hands.

When she climbed into Kyle’s car at two thirty, she was damn glad she’d worn a skirt with her steel-toes. His glance along the length of her knee-high black boots set her nerves jangling.

It was just what she needed.

 

 

 

“THEY sure as hell don’t make steel-toes the way they used to.” Kyle rested one hand on the steering wheel, the other on the key in the ignition.

Josie fluffed her hair in the visor’s pull-down mirror. The hard hat she’d worn for the tour had squashed it. The red marks left by the safety goggles were only now beginning to fade. He handed her a shop rag from the backseat to wipe the sand from her boots and the hem of her skirt. Even in a slight breeze the dust billowed up from the quarry floor.

Though dust covered the black leather, those boots were fucking hot. Two-inch waffled soles, three-inch man-sized heels, and tight lacing all the way up to her knee, which supposedly gave good support to the calf when one was walking in sand. Support, his ass, the outfit was sexy as hell. “I thought I told you to wear a short skirt.”

She glanced down at the camel-colored, below-the-knee length. “I’m wearing a skirt. That’s all you get.”

He liked that she didn’t just roll over to do whatever a man said.

Glancing at his watch, he noted they had five minutes until quitting time. Starting the engine, he pulled out, waiting at the gate a few moments as it rolled on its track.

When it was open, he pulled out. “Get everything you need out of the tour?”

She shoved her legal pad into the outside pocket of her computer case, then slipped it behind her seat, out of the way of her feet. “I’m not afraid of questions. If I’d needed something, I would have asked for it.” Then she smiled, her eyes masked by her sunglasses.

He figured she wouldn’t be so flippant with a regular client. He was special. That’s why she was getting snarky with him.

At the bottom of the quarry drive, he turned left onto the road heading back up into the mountains.

She pointed over her shoulder. “Aren’t we supposed to go that way to get out to the highway?”

“It’s rush hour. The traffic will be a bitch.”

“We’ll be going opposite the commute.”

True. Highway 17, the main road through the mountains, was primarily northbound traffic into San Jose in the mornings and a southbound rush hour in the evenings. “I feel like a nice drive on rural roads.”

She didn’t laugh, but a pretty smile tipped up her lips. “This is business.”

“It’ll be after five o’clock soon.”

“My day goes until seven.”

He quirked a brow. “Do you get paid for overtime?”

“No.”

“Then technically you’re only on the clock until five.” He flipped his wrist. “Oh, look at that. It’s after five. Now it’s time for pleasure.”

As he guided the car deeper into the hills, the foliage grew denser, redwoods lining the road, huge oak branches hanging over, creating natural arbors.

She slid her gaze to him.

“Open the glove box,” he said.

“What for?”

“You ask too many questions. Just do it.”

“You’re awfully dictatorial.” She leaned forward to pop the box. And stared. Then she took off her sunglasses, setting them aside. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Not at all. Take it out.”

She held the vibrator dangling between thumb and forefinger, eyes wide, a sparkle in their green depths. “Is this what I think it is?”

“Pretty hard to mistake it for something else.”

“But
if
it’s a vibrator, what’s it doing in your glove box?”

“It’s a present for you.” He’d picked it up on his way home last night. One day of her scent filling his mind, and he’d already been planning how to get round her rule about business versus pleasure.

She arched one brow, a shade darker than her hair. “I already have a vibrator, thank you very much.”

“Yes, but your vibrator isn’t here in the car.”

“Why would I need it in the car?”

“Because I want you to use it.”

She shot out a shocked breath. “Here?”

“Here.”

“Now?”

“Now.”

All she did was laugh.

He turned his head long enough to capture her gaze. A split second of mind-to-mind communication.

“Just because you’re driving and not touching me and it’s after five and we’re off the clock, that does not mean my masturbating for you with a vibrator isn’t mixing business with pleasure.”

Damn. She had him pegged. “That’s convoluted plus a double negative.”

She shook the slim-line, no frills, leopard-spotted vibrator at him. “I am not doing it.”

“You’re afraid.”

“Afraid?” Her pitch rose, and she tipped her chin up. “Of what?”

He figured her for a woman who would never admit to an ounce of fear. “Of exposing yourself.”

“Well, I sure wouldn’t want to get arrested if a cop’s driving the other way.”

A lone green-and-white sheriff’s sedan had passed in the other direction a couple of minutes ago. “He wouldn’t see you. Besides, I meant metaphorically exposing yourself.”

“I don’t care how you meant it. I’m not doing it.”

On a straightaway, he allowed himself a long, studied look at her. “But you want to.” Then he turned back to the road.

He scented her in the car, the sweet flowery aroma from yesterday, and something else, something elemental, womanly, hot. He saw her swallow and knew he had her close.

He wanted her to take him up on it. After pondering the whole thing on the drive back from Santa Rosa, he’d come up with this. It appealed to his kinky nature. It was something he’d never done before—not watching a woman masturbate, but doing it in a car with someone he’d known only twenty-four hours. It was not, in the strictest literal sense, having sex with her. But more than all that, he wanted to see how far he could push her, how adamantly she meant that word he didn’t want to hear:
no
.

“Do it,” he murmured.

He could almost hear her thinking, considering; her desire, excitement, fear.

Then she shifted in her seat, putting her back against the door. “I’m only doing it this one time. Then we’re never doing it again. Back to all business, no pleasure.”

He resisted the urge to pump his fist in the air.

“But do
not
get in an accident.”

“I will retain full control of the car.”

“I’m not sure how you’ll even be able to watch me,” Josie grumbled.

“I’m good at glancing, plus I can hear you”—Kyle shot her a look—“and smell how aroused you are.”

She felt his gaze like a lick. It was a crazy idea, and that’s why she wanted it. She was hot, wet, horny, and fidgety in her seat after being around him for three hours. Then he went and said things like that. Dammit, she should have called one of her buddies for some hot nookie last night and gotten this itch out of her system.

Too late now. She’d already lost control. Kyle kept looking at her boots, long perusals, brief glances, sometimes a shift of his gaze from the leather way up to meet her eyes. His own were burning hot. Josie could only hope Todd and Will hadn’t caught on during the plant tour. Kyle had told her to wear a skirt, and she had, though the length wasn’t what he’d intended. She’d known that, too, and chosen this relatively staid outfit to show him she was her own woman.

Obviously it had also revealed that she wanted to play. No man had ever made such a wild move on her. Insane as it was, she had to have it.

She pulled her left knee up on the seat, effectively spreading her legs beneath the skirt, yet not an inch of skin peeked out. Then she turned on the vibrator experimentally. It purred like a kitten. She turned up the speed. It rumbled. She slipped it beneath her jacket, then tipped it down onto her nipple and felt a jolt through her silk blouse and cotton bra.

A little sound escaped her, not quite a moan, almost nothing more than drawing in a sharp breath. She flipped off the vibrations.

She felt his eyes on her for a moment. “My breasts are small,” she told him, God knows why, “but my nipples are very sensitive.”

“Do you like them pinched?”

“Sometimes. Not now.” Having her nipples pinched or sucked hard made her a little crazy. She wanted to be only half crazy right now. Oh wait, she was
totally
crazy for agreeing to this at all.

Yet it was so hot and unique and exciting. No date, no dinner, no wine, no small talk. Just lift your skirt and start doing yourself with your vibrator.

“Are you ready?” she asked.

He cupped his cock through his pants, squeezed, then tipped his head to her. “Hell, yeah.”

She raised her skirt. She hadn’t worn nylons, just thick socks for the boots. Her thighs were bare, her skin heated, almost rosy.

“Nice panties,” he said.

“What color and texture?” She didn’t think he’d actually looked.

“Green, like your eyes. And a pretty little red flower embroidered in the front.” He smiled. “The material is silk or satin, hard to tell without touching it.”

All right, so he could look and drive at the same time. She wanted him to touch. But she meant what she said, this was one-time only . . . unless she changed her mind. “Guess you’re a decent multitasker.”

He settled deeper into his seat, guided the steering wheel with one hand. The road wound higher into the mountains with gentle curves and twists.

“Give me more.” His slacks outlined his cock. Big. Obviously hard.

She dialed up the speed on the vibrator once more, then laid it against the crotch of her panties. “Ooh.” She felt the buzz right up into her belly.

“I picked a good model?”