Not Strictly Business!: Prodigal Son / The Boss and Miss Baxter / The Baby Deal. Victoria Pade
Silence, she told herself. She could do silence.
“I like your car,” she said before she could stop herself. “Is it new?”
“About two years old. Why are you so nervous?”
“Me? I’m not. I’m fine. I had a good time tonight.”
“You sure didn’t drink. As far as I could tell you didn’t eat. So what’s going on?”
“Nothing. I’m fine. Perfectly. See? This is me being fine.”
He pulled into the parking garage and drove to his space. When he turned off the engine, he shifted so that he faced her.
“Are you worried I’m going to make a pass at you?” he asked.
The blunt question shocked her into silence. If she looked at things from the right perspective, life sure had a sense of humor. For the past few weeks she’d been hoping Jack wouldn’t notice her as anything but a coworker. Now she wanted him to see her as a desirable woman and he was worried she thought he was going to come on to her. Which meant he wasn’t.
She’d spent the entire evening in shoes that made her feet hurt for nothing.
“Why would I worry about that?” she asked, not able to meet his gaze.
“Because of what happened the last time we were alone together.”
Ah, yes. That magical kiss. “It was nice,” she whispered.
“I thought so, too. Still do.” He leaned across her and opened her door. “Come on. I’ll walk you home.”
He came around and helped her out of the car, then took her hand as they walked to the elevator. Seconds later the doors opened and they stepped inside.
She wanted to say something. Maybe invite him inside or at least come off as cool and sophisticated. But she couldn’t think of anything good and she didn’t know how to tell him she wasn’t exactly ready for the evening to be over. Maybe in her next life she would understand men and deal with them better. In this one, she was batting a big, fat zero.
The elevator stopped on her floor. She turned to say good-night, only he was stepping off the elevator and leading her to her door.
She dug for her key in her tiny evening bag and clutched it in her hand.
Her place was at the end of the hall. Jack took the key from her, opened the door then cupped her face and smiled at her.
“You’ve told me no plenty of times,” he said quietly. “Tonight your eyes are saying something different. Which should I believe? Your words or your eyes?”
Her stomach flipped over, her throat went dry and it was all she could do to keep hanging on to her purse.
It all came down to this. What did she want from Jack?
“Talk has always been overrated,” she whispered.
“I agree,” he said as he eased her into the condo and closed the door behind them.
She heard the lock turn just before he bent down and kissed her.
She instinctively leaned into him, wanting to feel his mouth on hers. When his lips brushed against her mouth, she wrapped her arms around his neck to hold him in place.
They surged together, need growing until her mind overflowed with images of them together, naked, craving. Even as she tilted her head and parted her lips, she dropped her purse on the floor and stepped out of her shoes.
He took advantage of her invitation with a quickness that heated her blood. He nipped at her lower lip, then swept his tongue into her mouth where he claimed her with an eagerness that made her thighs tremble.
His hands were everywhere. Her shoulders, her bare arms, her back. She touched him, as well, stroking the breadth of his shoulders, before starting to tug on his jacket.
He quickly shrugged out of it, letting it fall, then he pulled off his tie. He broke the kiss, then turned her so her back was to him.
“Cuffs,” he murmured as he pushed her hair over her right shoulder, then held out his hands in front of her.
But removing the gold-and-diamond cuff links was more difficult than it should have been. Even as she reached for the fastening, he nibbled on her bare shoulder, then licked the same spot.
Goose bumps erupted on her arms. Her nipples got hard and she felt the first telltale wetness on her panties.
At last she managed to free the cuff links. She started to turn, but he stayed behind her, put his hands on her hips and drew her back against him.
He was already hard. She felt the thickness of his need as he rubbed back and forth. Wanting filled her, turning her body liquid. He moved his hands up her body until he cupped her breasts.
Her curves were modest at best, but exquisitely sensitive. Even through the fabric, she felt his thumbs brush over her nipples in a way designed to make her his slave.
“I’ve wanted to do this all evening,” he breathed before biting down on her earlobe. “That damn dress. You were driving me crazy. I couldn’t decide which would be more erotic—coming up behind you and touching you like this or just saying, ‘The hell with it,’ and shoving my hand down the front of your dress.”
Either would have taken her breath away.
“I want you naked,” he murmured as he kissed her neck. “I want to touch you all over until we’re both exhausted and then I want to do it all again.”
He’d talked to her before, she remembered, her brain turning mushy from too many hormones and too little sex. She hadn’t been with a lot of men, but except for Jack, they’d all been silent.
She loved his words. They not only turned her on, but they left no doubt that she did the same to him.
She turned in his arms and pressed her mouth to his. He kissed her with an intensity that shook her to the core. When she felt his fingers on her zipper, she trembled in anticipation of being naked with him.
Her dress fell in a whisper of silk. Underneath she wore tiny panties and nothing else. He continued to kiss her even as he brought his hands around to cup her breasts.
While she’d always wanted to be voluptuous, she had a theory that her small breasts had the same number of nerve endings as big ones, so hers were more sensitive. Apparently Jack remembered, because he touched her gently as he stroked her hot skin.
Fiery sensation shot through her, making it hard to keep breathing. Every part of her being focused on his touch as he moved closer and closer to her nipples. At last he touched them, first with just his fingertips. He lightly rubbed the very tips before squeezing them oh so gently.
She gasped with pleasure. He groaned, then broke the kiss and pushed her back. Seconds later three books, her mail and a plastic container of fake flowers crashed to the floor. Before she could figure out what he was doing, he lifted her onto the top of the wood console in her foyer, bent his head and sucked on one of her nipples.
Suddenly the mess didn’t matter at all. She closed her eyes and arched her chest toward him. Her fingers tangled in his hair.
“More,” she breathed as he circled her tight, quivery flesh. “Don’t stop.”
He didn’t. He sucked and licked and circled and then moved to her other breast. He replaced tongue with fingers, arousing her with everything he did.
He put one of his hands on her thigh and moved it steadily toward her center. She parted her legs, then cursed the panties still in place as he rubbed her through the silk.
“Off,” she begged, shifting on the console. “I need them off.”
He grabbed them and pulled them down. When she was fully naked, he reached for her and slid his fingers into her swollen, waiting heat.
Heaven,