Murphy's Law. Lori Foster
Her car door slammed hard and she looked around the garage behind her, talking to herself in low mumbled words that reeked of irritation and disgust.
Unaware of his presence, she said, “For God’s sake, Ashley, get a pair, why don’t ya.”
Never taking his gaze off her, Quinton pushed away from the wall. Patience, he told himself. He’d have her, and soon.
“A pair of what, Ashley?”
She screeched. The high-pitched yell of panic bounced around the cavernous garage in deafening force, causing Quinton to wince. “For God’s sake, it’s me.”
Eyes wide, she whipped around, zeroed in on him, and went from startled to furious in a heartbeat. The change was something to see.
And she looked as desirable pissed as she did impatient.
After stomping across the concrete floor, she thrust her chin up close to his face. Since this was the second time he’d startled her in the garage, he felt a little guilty. Holding up his hands in concession, he said, “My apologies.”
She didn’t soften a bit. “You’re making a habit of this, Murphy, and I don’t like it.”
Quinton gave in to a half smile, gently touched her hair, and lied through his teeth. “Not on purpose. I just finished some late business. Since I knew you were due in soon, I decided to wait to say hi before heading home.” The last time he’d seen her, he’d been with a client. A sexy, blond, female client, and though he knew Ashley wouldn’t admit it, she’d misinterpreted the situation.
Now he needed to make her understand his interest for her and her alone.
For a single suspended moment she stared at him, mostly at his mouth, her expression soft and giving…then with a frustrated growl she strode away from him.
Damned contrary woman. She wouldn’t make this easy for him. But she did make it interesting.
Quinton propped his hands on his hips and watched her long-legged retreat, undecided on whether or not he should say anything more.
But after only three steps she halted. Her straight, stiffened back still to him, she snapped by way of explanation, “I usually don’t scare so easy.”
An olive branch? He gladly accepted it. “I gathered as much.” He hadn’t known Ashley long, but already he accepted that she wasn’t a timid woman, definitely not a woman who jumped at shadows. In fact, he’d have described her as ballsy beyond belief. “So what’s going on? Why are you so jumpy?”
“It’s nothing.”
She shut him out and he didn’t like it. “Okay.” He’d let that pass for now. Harking back to her earlier comment, he asked, “What do you need a pair of?”
Her shoulders relaxed and she turned to flash him a cheeky grin. “Balls.”
“Well, good God, I hope not.”
She shook her head. “I could use them in the figurative sense.”
He chose to see her chattiness as an invitation and fell into step beside her. “Want to tell me why?”
Her shoulders lifted. “I’ve had the weird feeling that someone’s watching me.” She glanced up at him. “It’s probably you giving me the willies.”
“Me?”
She poked him in the chest. “Every time I turn a dark corner, you seem to be there.”
Half under his breath, he muttered, “Not exactly the reaction I’d hoped for.” The first time he’d met her, she’d been running for the elevator and he was stepping out. She’d ended up in his arms, and from that point on, he’d been a goner.
He stepped ahead of her to open the door to the building.
In her usual long-legged march, Ashley went in past him. He had a feeling she’d keep walking until she left him far behind.
On a sigh, he said, “Ashley, wait.”
She paused and one slim brown eyebrow lifted. “For what?”
She looked…well, adorable. Her disheveled brown hair draped her shoulders, partially concealing the ridiculous long-sleeved T-shirt she wore. Ashley had the oddest fashion sense he’d ever witnessed, but somehow it suited her spirit.
Tonight she wore a purple and pea green striped T-shirt that would have made most women look bloated. On Ashley it made a statement of individuality. For certain, he’d never seen anything like it on anyone else.
Droopy broken-in jeans hung low on her slim hips, leaving a thin strip of pale, smooth belly to tantalize him. Her slip-on sneakers clashed in a glaring shade of pink with silver trim.
What was it about her?
She tried so hard to appear disinterested in him, but when they kissed, her body language told him otherwise. And thinking that…
Quinton narrowed his eyes. “If I kissed you right now, what would you do?”
Expression arrested, she asked, “Scream again?”
“You aren’t certain?” He stepped closer. She didn’t back away, but she did plant her feet as if preparing for a confrontation. He didn’t want to rush her or scare her off.
Without touching her, he suggested, “Maybe we should find out.”
She stared at his mouth. Her lips parted on a shaky breath, then slowly curved in a sexy female smile that reeked of confidence. “Yeah,” she whispered. Her gaze drifted to his. “I have a few minutes, so why not?”
Damn it, one little invitation from her and his heart pounded as if he’d been jogging up three flights of stairs. Not waiting for her to change her mind, Quinton tunneled his fingers into the cool weight of her hair, tipped up her chin, and sealed his mouth over hers.
Being so close to her rioted his senses.
He loved the feel of her hair against his palms, the warm scent of her skin, the way her heartbeat matched his. With only the touch of his tongue, her lips opened under his, so soft and sweet.
Just as he remembered, she intoxicated him.
They were in the building’s basement, not exactly a place conducive to seduction.
She had to start work.
He needed to head home.
He knew all that—but at that moment, he didn’t care.
Her hands on his shoulders, she snuggled into him, pelvis to pelvis, her breath coming fast and hard, her mouth moving with his.
Her breasts were small, but he could feel her stiffened nipples rasping against his chest and it made him nuts because he knew she was braless, that only a thin T-shirt kept her from him. Lost to the here and now, he ran his hand down her back all the way to her rounded bottom, spread his fingers wide over the softened, worn denim of her jeans, and pressed her tight against his erection.
With him every step of the way, she made a purring sound of excitement and dug her fingers hard into his shoulders. Her response pushed him over the edge and he started considering the possibility of taking her in the darkened hallway, against the wall, her long legs wrapped around his waist…
She freed her mouth. Breathing hard, her forehead to his chest, she half laughed, half moaned.
His own breathing was ragged. He felt primed, more than ready to strip off her jeans and sink into her. But he had enough sense not to press her. Instead, he rubbed his hands over her back, soothing her, enjoying the feel of her in his arms. “God almighty, woman.”
“Yeah.” Her fingers fisted in his dress shirt. She swallowed twice, let out a long breath. “And now you see why you have to leave me alone.”
He stiffened from his hairline to his toes. “You must