Lip Lock (3 page)

Molly risked a look at him. He was really too handsome. All hard lines and angles from his slanted cheekbones to his uncompromising chin.

It was too distracting. Made her mind go to mush. She could vaguely remember what she was talking about. “It’s going to last a few hours and she said she’ll go home afterward.”

Kyle frowned. “What meeting?”

Oh, why did you have to go and ask that?
Molly was about to concoct a meeting. It was on the tip of her tongue when she decided not to take the chance. She always blathered like an idiot around Kyle Ashton.

“I don’t know,” she said as she systematically turned off her computer. “Would you like me to find out?”
Say no, say no, say no
…

She felt his piercing gaze. Molly didn’t need to see if he was watching her. Her skin stung with awareness.

“No,” he said slowly. “You can go home.”

Hey, that ESP thing can work.
Molly smiled big at Kyle. “Good night.”

“Good night, Molly.”

Oooh.
Her shoulder blades twitched as her spine tingled. There was something about the way he said that. Low and husky and full of promise. She was still buzzing from it on her bus ride home.

What was it about that guy? Molly rolled her eyes at the rhetorical question. Well, yes, his body was to die for, but it was the way he moved. She sensed power—real power—lurking under iron restraint.

That command of his senses probably made him amazing in bed. She wanted to experience it, but most of all she wanted to shatter his self-control. She wanted to face the fierce wildness he kept hidden.

Like that was ever going to happen. She’d seen his choice of women. Debutantes, heiresses, celebrities. Receptionists weren’t on that list.

And that was fine. Sure, it was. She didn’t need the drama. She already had enough in her life. Like which bill she should pay this month. The water bill or the power bill? Eenie-meenie-minie-mo.

The Kyle Ashtons of the world didn’t bother with that sort of thing. Molly laid her head against the cold bus window and stared out into the darkness. Heck, he probably
owned
water and electric companies.

Nor did the Kyles of the world date women like her. She might spend her days on the luxurious executive floor, but she spent her off hours in a cockroach infested “studio” apartment. She took extreme measures hiding that fact. It took her a while during her long job hunt, but she eventually got smarter about her appearance.

Her manicure was as homemade as her haircut, but no one looked closely enough to see the mistakes. The knockoff designer shoes had black marker scribbles to conceal the torn leather. She might never repeat an outfit, but that was only because she’d figured out the complicated system of abusing every exchange policy at the trendy boutiques. Even her perfume was an imposter fragrance.

Most days she felt like she was walking on a tightrope, but it wouldn’t be like that for much longer. Friday, to be exact. Then she’d get closer to paying off that horrendous debt her good-for-nothing ex-boyfriend left her with. Maybe even make a dent in her medical bill.

Let’s not go crazy here
, she thought wryly as she got off at her bus stop.

She usually tried not to think about it and push it to the back of her mind. Not so much out of denial, Molly decided as she hurried down the block, but out of survival. If she thought about it, she’d crack. Break. Lose the strength to fight back.

And then where would she be? Because there was no one backing her up. Fighting at her side or fighting for her.

“Molly!”

Molly stopped and looked up at the apartment building kitty-corner from hers. She saw her friend waving at her from an open window. “Hi, Bonita.”

“Can you look after my kids tonight while I go to the Laundromat?” she called across the street.

“Yeah, sure.” Not like she had anything exciting going on. Plus, Bonita had cable television. Unlike herself, ever since her good-for-nothing ex-boyfriend racked up a thousand dollars on her cable bill. All from watching porn, and all within a month before he left. She didn’t even
want
to know how he managed that.

Molly trudged over to her mailbox and unlocked it. It was crammed with letters, and not the good kind. She scanned through the items. Bill. Bill. Overdue notice. Bill. Junk mail. Wait, what was this?

She tore the envelope and quickly read the letter. The library was coming after her with a collection agency over a late book? She slapped the paper against her leg and sighed. What was this world coming to? She’d returned it.

Molly slowly walked down the steps to her dark and dank basement apartment. That letter was just one more thing pulling her down. On top of another and another. And then Molly saw the sheet of white paper taped onto her door.

Oh, great.
Three guesses on who it was from. Her psychotic neighbor telling her to keep the noise down? Her landlord springing another surprise inspection? A letter from Ed McMahon saying he dropped by because she won the sweepstakes?

She got closer to her door and stopped. Molly read the first bold line as every ounce of air squeezed out of her lungs.

Eviction notice.

She heard the elevator bell ding. Of course. The day she wanted to make some personal calls before she clocked in, people showed up to work early. This was how her luck worked.

Molly placed the phone down and sat up straight. It was showtime. Keep the personal drama hidden.

The elevator doors slid open, revealing her boss and the engineering coordinator. “Good morning, Sara. Julia.” Molly kept her eyes off of the engineer coordinator’s bottom as the woman walked past her desk. Panty lines, or the lack thereof, were none of her business.

Julia barely glanced at her.
Fine
, Molly thought.
No skin off my nose. And, by the way, you sound like a barnyard animal when you come
.

“Morning, Molly,” Sara said. “How are you doing?”

“Fantastic!” Hmm. Those behavior specialists in the media were wrong. You didn’t start feeling fantastic after saying it. “And you?”

Her boss sighed heavily and leaned against the high edge of the reception desk. “Busy, busy, busy.”

Molly tried to look sympathetic, but Sara always talked about how busy she was. As if no one else had as much on their plate as she did. Molly knew that was why she’d been hired, but it could get annoying. She bet that Sara was disorganized rather than indispensable.

And she would love to see if Sara could handle her personal to-do list. Like throwing herself at the mercy of her landlord without anyone overhearing. Calling in favors from her friends who had little money to spare. If Sara had a list like that, she’d really start complaining.

“Kyle invited plaza+tag to visit, and I need you to make arrangements,” Sara informed her. “He plans to show them around, dazzle them. You know, give them the works.”

“When are they arriving?” Molly asked, jotting down notes on her scratch pad.

“Thanksgiving week.”

Molly paused. The worst week to make any travel arrangements. Did bosses sit around and brainstorm impossible challenges for their staff?

“Okay,” Molly said with a serene smile, “tell me what you need and I’ll get started.”
In between calling pawn shops…

“Thanks, Molly. You’re a big help.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” she answered brightly. And the only reason she came to work today. Well, that and the unlimited long distance phone service.

An unwelcome thought occurred to her. “Oh, hold on!” Molly said. “Work is going to be closed on Thanksgiving and that Friday, right?”

“Officially,” Sara said as she adjusted the tote bag strap on her shoulder. “Some of the executives will probably work through it like always, but the administrative staff isn’t expected to.”

“And are the guests visiting during that weekend? Don’t they want to celebrate Thanksgiving?”

“I guess not,” Sara said with a shrug, and headed toward the glass door. “But you have nothing to worry about. Do you have big plans for the holiday?”

Molly shook her head. “No.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Soup kitchen.”
If her luck didn’t change real soon
.

“Wow,” Sara said, coming to a halt. “Really?”

Molly winced and her stomach did a free fall. She didn’t mean to say that out loud! What all did she say?

“Now I feel selfish for booking a ski trip to Whistler. Eh, what should I expect from a girl like you.”

“Like me?” She dropped her pen and heard it clatter onto her desk. What was that supposed to mean? Her ribs squeezed her lungs; her nerves zeroed in for a crash landing.

Sara winced and splayed her hands out in apology. “Oh, don’t take it the wrong way. It’s just that, well, I know you don’t say anything…”

Splat!
Her nerves felt like they were spewed everywhere. Molly wrapped her arms protectively around her midriff before she doubled over. “You
know?
”

“I started picking up clues here and there,” Sara said, clearly uncomfortable about saying anything, “and then it became obvious.”

“It did?” Clues? What clues? She had been so careful. What tipped her off? Had she said something? Was someone trying to garnish her wages? Did she smell?

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” her boss said as she backed up to the glass door.

Was she kidding? Molly felt her skin burning. She was furious with herself for getting into such a deep hole of debt. Sure, most of it was medical bills because she had no insurance when she got pneumonia, but her finances were in dire straits before that. Getting sick just took her over the edge.

It would take years for her to crawl out of debt. She would’ve liked to blame it on her good-for-nothing ex-boyfriend, her series of dead-end jobs, and her bad luck.

But the fact was, she’d messed up and she was paying for her own stupidity. As far as Molly was concerned, that wasn’t something to toot her own horn about. Only until she could pay back every dime would she be able to hold her head up high.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anybody.”

“Thank you.” She struggled getting the words out of her constricted throat.

“I don’t know why you’re hiding it,” Sara said as she swiped her ID on the black security box next to the door.

“I want to keep my job.” Was so afraid to say it out loud, to show how much she wanted it, that she nearly choked on the words. To her horror, Molly felt her eyes sting. She bet her nose was turning red.

Sara scrunched up her face. “No one is going to fire you because you’re a trust fund baby.”

Molly froze in mid-flinch.
Trust fund baby?
Was she joking? She stared at the other woman through squinty eyes.

“I promise,” she said as she yanked open the door.

She was afraid to move, to do anything that would straighten out this turn of events. But her boss seemed sincere. “O…kay.”

“It’ll be a secret just between us girls,” Sara decided as she walked into the executive floor’s inner sanctum.

Relief flooded her so fast it hurt. “Thank you!” she called after her boss.

Oh, good grief! People thought she was a trust fund baby? Molly pressed her hand against her mouth to keep from laughing like a lunatic.

Well, if that was how people wanted to see her, who was she to disappoint? She’d do her best.

Trust fund baby.

If only.

Sara pushed the door open and dashed through the reception area, making a run for the elevator. “I forgot! I’m late for a meeting. Kyle is going to kill me.”

What else is new?

“Can you start looking for hotels?” she asked, hitting the up button. “Nicest penthouse suites you can find.”

“Sure thing.” Molly grabbed her pen, noticing her hand still shook from the heartfelt relief. “Days?”

“Monday to Monday,” she said. “You’ll have to look up the dates.

She wrote it down with a flourish. “Got it.”

“Love that scarf of yours, by the way,” Sara said as she stepped into the elevator. “Where did you get it?”

“One of my travels.”
To the consignment shop.

“Yeah, where’s it from?”

Molly remembered the care label. “Bangladesh.”

“Wow.” Sara looked impressed. Molly was impressed she pronounced the country’s name correctly. “Oh, I should be back in an hour.”

“Okay.” Molly watched the elevator door close and sank into her chair. She was so going to burn in hell for each and every one of her lies.

Why’d she do that? It just came spilling out of her mouth and she apparently had no shut-off valve.
Stop trying to push the image down her throat!

Trust fund baby. Molly clucked her tongue and grabbed for the phone. Yeah. Just watch this trust fund baby work the cash advance stores.

“Anything else, Kyle?” Sara asked, her fingers flying over her keyboard.

He scanned the faces along the conference table. He had just updated his top executives on what they needed to know about the attempted theft, and they watched him, everyone on their best behavior.

And Kyle wondered how much could they be trusted.

His mind wandered to the first time someone stole one of his ideas. He had been in high school when he and his friends came up with a groundbreaking idea. It had been a fun and wild time until the big software companies started sniffing around.

Those friends were long gone. The moment they could, those guys took the idea, the credit, the money, and ran.

Kyle never mourned the energy and sacrifices he made for that idea. And he now made more money every day than the lump sum his friends had received. But he missed the innocence he once had, and the freedom that went with it.

He didn’t know what happened to those friends, and wasn’t interested in looking them up. They did teach him a valuable lesson, though. He had to watch his back.

“Kyle?” Sara prompted.

“No, we’re done.” He stood up, reminding himself that he wasn’t that high school kid anymore. He was now in a position of power.

He craved power more than seeing his ideas come together. It was what pushed him to become a leader in computer software. He achieved his goal, but not the invincibility he thought would go with it.

As he headed for the back steps, he heard Timothy calling for him. Kyle hesitated. He didn’t want to talk to the guy, even though he was probably one of his closest friends.

But that was the problem, Kyle thought as he turned to face Timothy. Rumor had it that the head of security was the unofficial source for a tell-all book about Kyle’s rise to power.

Kyle considered it a betrayal, and the possibility was strong enough that he was investigating to see if the rumors were true.

To him, Timothy’s revelations were more than releasing proprietary information. Kyle’s business dealings, his successes and failures, were private. He would’ve liked to keep it that way.

It had nothing to do with image, or if he had to hide any shady dealings. He hadn’t done anything illegal. At the time, he thought wryly. Some of those actions were against the law now.

The head of security wove through the other executives to catch up with him. “Are you going to the game tonight?”

“No, I have work to do.”

Timothy’s mouth dropped open. “This is the playoffs!”

“You’ll have to tell me how it was,” Kyle told his friend as he took the back stairs to the executive floor.

“You’re taking this workaholic thing too far!”

Kyle ignored the words echoing in the stairwell. He knew some people thought he was driven—too driven—and they were right. He’d do whatever it took to be king of the hill.

He would never be at a disadvantage again. He needed to be in control of his surroundings. In control of his creation. And he’d sacrifice everything to get that.

He stepped onto the executive floor and walked by the reception desk. He automatically glanced over, prepared for the fierce attraction to hit him, when he saw Molly talking to Curtis Puckett, one of their elite programming architects.

She glanced at him and stilled. A hectic blush crawled up her skin before she darted her attention away.

His own body reacted. Kyle felt tight and alert. Ready to pounce. What was wrong with him? Why did he feel like a primal animal ready to mate around this woman? There was nothing overtly sexual about her.

But there was something about her eyes. The brown eyes twinkled and flashed. Took on mysterious shadows even when she batted her eyelashes.

Kyle looked away and entered the executive suites. There was also something else about Molly that screamed trouble. He couldn’t place it, but he knew he was dealing with enough trouble.

Okay, that wasn’t true. There were times when he welcomed trouble. Courted it. And when he got the better of the problem, he felt a buzz that was better than sex.

Now put trouble and sex together, Kyle considered as he strode into his office, and that would be a potent combination.

Molly and sex…He thought about it as he sat down at his desk. Damn dangerous. And tempting.

He wondered what it would be like, the two of them. Would it be hard and fast, or seductively slow? He admitted he’d spent too much time over the past few months thinking about the problem and never came up with a conclusive answer.

He knew what he would prefer. He would like nothing better than to have Molly come into his office—right this very minute—and close the door. Lock it. Have her sashay to his desk with the soft sway of her hips and a gleam in her brown eyes.

Kyle wanted Molly to nudge her way in and stand between him and his desk. Fall to her knees in front of him and unzip his pants.

Okay, if this was his fantasy, he also wanted her to gasp at the size of his cock, cupping it reverently with both hands, before taking him into her mouth.

She would deep-throat him—of course—and know just what to do. Nibble the length and lick him with sure, sweeping strokes of her tongue. Draw him inside her warm, tight mouth and suck hard.