Foreplay with the Boss

Cynthia Page

Contents

1. Kat

2. Jameson

3. Kat

4. Jameson

5. Kat

6. Kat

7. Jameson

8. Kat

9. Jameson

10. Kat

11. Jameson

12. Kat

13. Jameson

14. Kat

15. Jameson

16. Kat

17. Kat

18. Jameson

19. Kat

20. Jameson

21. Kat

22. Jameson

23. Kat

24. Jameson

25. Kat

26. Kat

27. Jameson

28. Jameson

29. Kat

30. Jameson

31. Kat

32. Jameson

33. Kat

34. Jameson

35. Kat

36. Jameson

37. Kat

38. Jameson

39. Kat

40. Jameson

Epilogue

Acknowledgments

About the Author

Copyright © 2017 by Cynthia Page. All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you’d like to share it with. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

Cover Design: OKAY Creations

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Chapter One

Kat

Since it was of vital importance that I not be late today, I’d woken up extra early, scrambled around my makeshift home away from home, had a fight with the too-smart-for-its-own-good coffee maker, and now I was…well, under-caffeinated and running late. Naturally. I had the kind of hair that sensed fear, and since I was afraid of everything I was going to face today, the auburn strands refused to cooperate, half curly, half straight, one-hundred percent mess. The extra humidity factor in Boston definitely didn’t help.

Is bed-head in style? I certainly hope so, because this is as good as it’s going to get.

You know what else sensed fear? Eyeliner. Why I’d decided to pick today of all days to attempt the cat-eye look was beyond me. I thought I’d try to make a good impression with my new employer, even though that boat had most likely sailed already, considering my father had made a call to get me the job. Nothing says I’m fully in control of my life and adulting my ass off like having your daddy call in a favor.

All because he thought I wasn’t ready to run the company.

To be fair, I wasn’t. I’d started working at the office with him the second the ink on my business degree was dry, but I wasn’t sure I had a boss-type personality. My whole life I’d been on the timid side of the scale, and I’d gotten walked over plenty because of it. Each time I picked myself up and brushed myself off, I promised that the next time I’d be stronger. But when the next situation arose, all my shiny pep-talks went kamikaze on me, not even taking out the enemy, just dive-bombing the ground around my feet, rocking me in the process. My face would get too hot, and my heart would pound too hard and fast, and my flight response kicked in—I was pretty sure I was missing the fight one.

Apparently, that’s no way to run a company or even a department. If JT Stone, CEO of Craze Advertising and Marketing, couldn’t train me to be as ruthless and scary of a boss as he was rumored to be, my dad would have “no choice” but to hand over the company that’d been in our family for three generations to a guy who specialized in beardscaping and mansplaining.

I can’t let that happen. I can’t let my dad down like that.

Using a Q-tip, I turned my failed cat-eye into a smoky eye. It was more evening glam than first-day-at-a-new-job—and possibly even made it look like I was trying too hard—but I didn’t have enough time to start over, so it’d have to do.

As I rushed back to the bedroom, I tripped over the sneakers I’d left out after last night’s muppet-flail run on the treadmill that’d come with the place. (Getting in shape was also on my list of things I needed to fix about myself.) Kicking the neon shoes aside, I pulled a sheer purple blouse over my black tank-top, smoothed a hand down my black pencil skirt and, after a longing glance at my five-inch black stilettos, slipped on sensible pumps in the same color. I had a weakness for shoes, even though they were also tempting fate with how often I managed to trip over nothing.

I felt more in control when I had them on. The extra height and fact that they could double as a weapon made me feel like I could face anything, but I was told they only reminded the men in the office I was a woman, and I needed to be more serious. Evidently serious women wore blocky three-inch pumps with sole support.

I might as well put on a pair of Crocs. I shuddered at the thought. In my one act of rebellion for the day (my hair shouldn’t have all the insubordination fun), I kicked off the sensible shoes and grabbed the stilettos. The rest of me might not make much of an impression, but my shoes sure as hell would.

I caught sight of the time, swore, and rushed toward the door. I grabbed my purse and ran my hand along the bottom. Where are my keys, where are my keys, where are my keys…?

Man, I really need to clean out this purse.

The jingle told me I was close, and I finally unearthed them. I got into my car, drove to the station for the commuter rail, and then sprinted, afraid I was going to miss my train. And okay, maybe regretting that I hadn’t stuck with the sturdy pumps.

Embarrassing loud gasps came from me as I kicked it up a notch and I couldn’t believe I was already winded—I seriously had the stamina of an overweight cat who could hardly make it to his next resting place for another nap.

I stepped onto the train behind a group of dudes, who were talking and laughing and in no hurry to make it up the stairs.

“Excuse me,” I tried, but my words were drowned out by theirs.

The doors closed and I felt a tug. The strap of my purse hadn’t quite made it into the train, and now the doors had hold of it. I didn’t even have room to give it a good yank. Why didn’t these guys want to move onto the train and take a cushy seat? Were they going to stand here and talk for the thirty minutes it took to get to the office building downtown? That was going to be fun, standing here, getting jostled at every stop and then praying the opening of the doors wouldn’t spill me onto the tracks.

I cleared my throat, and when they didn’t get that hint, I gave words another shot. “Pardon me…”

They only talked louder.

I tugged on my purse. Almost… It came free, slipped right out of my grip, and landed in the middle of the aisle. Half the contents spilled out because that was the kind of day I was already having.

The group of men glanced at me, brows furrowed, like I was the annoying one for daring to accidentally throw my purse past them.

“What’s wrong with you? Stop standing there like idiots and move out of her fucking way.” The deep voice came from the other side of them, and they scattered like cockroaches after the light’s been turned on.

My gaze dropped to my purse, and I reached for it, trying to scoop up everything before it got kicked around the floor and I ended up crawling on my hands and knees to retrieve it.

Other hands joined mine, and I caught a glimpse of a tattoo peeking out of a suit sleeve. I glanced up to thank him—I was sure he was the owner of the rich, deep voice that’d made those guys finally move. Then I froze, a deer in headlights of sexiness, and dropped everything I’d just gathered.

The guy couldn’t possibly be real. Dark hair, perfectly styled, blue eyes so clear you could practically see yourself swimming in them, and one of those dimples in the chin that made you want to run your tongue over it.

Whoa. What?

My brain had obviously short-circuited, but I couldn’t stop staring. He was rugged and yet refined, chivalrous with an air of dangerousness, and while I’d experienced attraction before, this was on a whole new level. It was consuming and edged with more infatuation than was proper to have for a perfect stranger.

I didn’t consider myself an improper kind of gal, but one hot look from this guy and I was pretty sure everyone attracted to the male species would have indecent thoughts.

“Are you okay?” he asked, extending…a couple of tampons. Of course. No sexy red lipstick or sleek pens, because my luck was too shitty for that.

“Yes, thank you.” I snatched the tampons out of his hand and shoved them back in my purse, then gathered the rest as quickly as I could.

He stood and extended a hand, and I took it—when else was I going to get to touch a man this hot without him taking a restraining order out on me?

“Why don’t you come over and take a seat by me?”

“Yes. A thousand times yes,” I said, and unfortunately, not just in my head. Luckily, he merely looked amused by my overly enthusiastic response. Let’s work on employing the filter, okay? Or that restraining order will be filed before we reach our destination.

He led me to the set of seats opposite the door I’d come in through. I slid into one, and he sat across from me. I noticed the open laptop on the seat next to him.

I tried to think of something clever to say, but then I was imagining licking his jaw like the sexual deviant I’d suddenly become, and my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth as my pulse raced through my body.

He glanced at his laptop and then back to me.

“Oh,” I said. “If you’re, uh, working, don’t let me stop you.”

“Why didn’t you tell those guys to move out of your way?” There was an edge to his words, like my failure to do so irritated him, and the question even felt a little like a scolding.

“I tried. They didn’t hear me.”

His dark eyebrows scrunched together like I’d said something that didn’t make sense. “Tried?”

“Twice.” I lifted two fingers like he wouldn’t understand otherwise, because clearly I was suffering some kind of lust-fueled stroke.

The creases in his forehead deepened.

Speaking of trying, I was trying not to squirm under his intense scrutiny. I crossed my legs, and his eyes tracked the movement. When his attention snagged on the heels, I decided wearing them was the smartest decision I’d ever made.

Slowly, his gaze ran back up my body, heating me as it did. “Next time, I suggest demanding they move in a loud voice and adding a shove if they’re too dumb to understand that.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said, “but I’m hoping that most people are polite enough that there won’t be a next time.”

“Oh, there’ll be a next time,” he said, but instead of sounding like something bad, his delicious voice made me think that I’d deal with rude people all day long if it meant a few minutes sitting across from him.

Chapter Two

Jameson

I didn’t know what to make of the woman seated across from me. She wasn’t the type of woman that I usually went for, but since she’d stepped on the train, I hadn’t been able to take my eyes off her.

Actually, it was before that, when I’d seen her running for the train. I’d never seen anyone book it that fast in heels before, and twice I’d thought she was going to go down for sure. As someone who usually ducked his head and disregarded everyone else in favor of using the commuting time for work, I was hardly an expert on train-riding etiquette, but surely most decent human beings wouldn’t be so self-involved they’d ignore someone who was plastered against doors that could open any moment.

I’d watched in exasperation as the men just stood there and talked, ignoring her completely. She could’ve been seriously injured.

It shouldn’t bother me so much that she didn’t just raise her voice and tell them to move, but it did. I was of the “There is no try” philosophy. It’d gotten me where I was today.

On the train, across from a woman who had long sexy legs that I couldn’t stop imagining wrapping around my waist. And those breasts… So I wouldn’t be another jerk on the train, I worked to keep myself from blatantly ogling them, but they were fucking fantastic, pressing against the sheer fabric of her shirt like they refused to be fully contained.

Judging by her mussed, reddish-brown hair, someone else had beat me to playing out all the wicked thoughts flashing through my brain. Those waves looked like they’d been dragged against a pillow or mattress repeatedly.

I grabbed my computer and placed it on my lap, because I was starting to get turned on at the idea of being the one to press her to a mattress. To run my fingers through that tangle of hair and yank her head back as I pulled down that top, let her breasts free, and ran my tongue over them to see if they tasted as amazing as they looked.

Suddenly I hated the guy who’d mussed her hair this morning, which was completely irrational. I didn’t get jealous. I had convenient, no-strings “relationships” to release steam from time to time, but the only thing I was committed to was my company. With the big upcoming changes on the horizon, that was the way it would stay, too.

“Are you…?” The woman that had me thinking dirty thoughts at 7:20 on a Monday morning shook her head. “Never mind.”

“What?” Judging by the way she’d “tried” to ask those guys to move, I had a feeling that she started and stopped sentences a lot.

“You just looked angry, like you might kill someone, and then you switched to…I don’t know. Determined, I guess, which I hope isn’t determination to kill someone, which I know it most likely isn’t, and this is really coming out wrong. Basically I just wanted to make sure you were okay, but I’m sure you are, and that you’re probably busy…” She gestured to my laptop that’d been more out of necessity of my reaction to her than needing to work, even though I did like to make good use of my forty-minute commute. It gave me extra time to answer all the emails that’d piled up overnight so that once I arrived at the office I could get right to the present-day to-do list.

“I think I’ve gotten as much work done on my ride as I’m going to.” Thanks to the fact that I want to stare at you and imagine dirty scenarios for a little while longer. I debated giving her my card, or getting her number. But she didn’t have the look of a hookup type of girl, and either of those moves seemed more like what someone who dated would do, and I had more than enough on my plate right now.

I have that new person starting today, too, which means I’m going to get an even later start to my day. Agreeing to let Stu Taylor’s daughter work for me over the next six weeks was probably one of the stupider things I’d agreed to, considering the direction I was about to take the company, but I couldn’t bring myself to say no when he’d called.

Which is a weakness, and you can’t afford to be soft, not now that you’re so close. I told myself the same thing I had since striking the arrangement. That it’d keep some goodwill between us, even after everything went down.

Of course, if I was going to have one of the people from the marketing division at the office, I would’ve preferred one of his strongest, not one who needed trained on how to be a boss.

Talk about a fucking waste of my time.

Instead of wasting more time regretting a decision I’d already made—one I’d stick to, because I gave my word, and honestly it was the least I could do for Stu—I turned my attention back to the woman batting big hazel-colored eyes at me. Fuck, even her makeup had the smeared look of someone who’d been laid this morning.

It’d been weeks on my end, and I had the irrational urge to prove to her that I could show her a better time. What are you going to do? Shove her into the miniscule bathroom, hike up that skirt, and take her against the wall?

I bit back a groan. No, quick and in a bathroom wasn’t my style, but that didn’t sound as bad of an idea as it was supposed to. I needed to redirect my thoughts.

I noticed she was wringing her hands, picking at non-existent threads, and that was the third time she’d switched her crossed legs—not that I was counting or thinking about throwing basic decency and social norms out the window, leaning forward, and running my hands up them to see if they were as smooth as they looked. “I’m Jameson, by the way,” I said, extending a hand.

“Kat.” She slowly extended her hand to me and I slipped it inside of mine and gave it a firm shake.

“Big day?”

She looked across at me, her chest rising and straining against that shirt before falling. “How’d you…?”

“Guess?” I finished, since she wasn’t apparently going to. “You look a little nervous.”

“Oh, that’s how I usually look,” she said with a self-deprecating laugh. “Probably because I’m always nervous. But I’m starting a new job today, and I want to make a good impression, so I’m nervous.”

Lucky bastards, whoever she was working for. They’d get to stare at her all day. Of course I couldn’t afford that distraction, and I’d never date an employee—that was just a shitstorm waiting to happen, and I had enough shitstorms to take care of on a daily basis.

She scooted forward and whispered, “I probably should’ve chosen the sensible shoes I first put on instead of these ones. I’m supposed to work on being more serious, but I just feel like life’s too short for boring shoes, you know?”

Twenty minutes ago, I wouldn’t know, but looking at the dangerous-looking heels on her feet, I now did. “You chose right. Those’ll definitely make an impression.”

“But maybe the wrong impression?”

I ran my fingers across my jaw like I was contemplating, then leaned down and lifted her foot a few inches. “I’m sticking with my original answer.” Without thinking, I brushed my thumb across the top of her foot. Her sharp intake of breath sent heat zinging through my veins.

There was something about this woman that made me want to do something I normally didn’t. I could call her sometime. Go to dinner. Take her home…You couldn’t always tell someone’s M.O. by just looking at them. Maybe she’d be fine with light and casual.

Maybe what she needed was someone to distract her from her nervousness and make her forget her name for a while.

The train lurched to a stop and she braced her hand on my knee when she slid forward. Then she quickly yanked it back. “Sorry.”

“Well, I touched your foot, so I think it’s only fair.”

“Yeah, and you picked up my tampons, so we kind of skipped normal-exchanges-with-a-stranger a while ago.” An adorable blush crept across her cheeks. “Can you forget that I said that? I’m having a problem with the filter between my brain and my mouth, and I don’t want to be remembered as the tampon girl. Which is why I keep freaking saying the word.”

Amusement rose up, and I shot her a smile. “I’ll forget that part. Touching me, though—that’s going to stay in my head for a while.”

Her mouth dropped open and she blushed again. God, the blush and the hint of innocence turned me on even more. Surely men flirted with her all the time, but she acted like she couldn’t believe I was doing it.

She licked her lips. “I…”

“Have a boyfriend?” I asked, assuming that was where she was going with this, and I didn’t want to care about the answer. I went after what I wanted, but I tried not to be a total asshole and go after women who were already taken. Although I might make an exception for Kat.

She looked at me like I might be crazy and then shook her head as a smile spread across her face. “No boyfriend. I just got into town, and my stay in Boston is temporary.”

Temporary. Music to my ears. Sure, I could call one of my usuals to scratch the itch taking over my body, but after my interaction with Kat, I worried no one else would cut it. I wanted to listen to her talk more. Wanted to see if she’d finish her sentences once she grew more comfortable. Of course, I also wanted to strip her naked and see if that blush traveled over her entire body. To leave her breathless enough that she wasn’t finishing her sentences for a whole other reason.

My stop was next, and I decided I needed to make this a done deal so I could clear my head of this woman and switch gears for the day. “I’m going to need your number so I can call you sometime.”

Her hand went to my knee when the train braked, and instead of pulling back, she used me to brace herself as we stopped. Then she glanced toward the door. “Crap, I don’t want to be late and have another fight with the door, but um, yeah. Call me sometime.”

“I’ll get it from you once I get you safely outside, then.” I slid my laptop in its bag, shouldered it, and took her hand. I had a feeling if I hadn’t cleared a pathway, she would’ve been the last off and end up in another fight with her purse and the train door. Once we were a few feet away from the door, I moved my hand to her back and then lifted my phone.

She rattled off her number, and I entered it into my cell.

“Good luck with your job,” I said.

She grinned. “Thanks. At least the day started off good. After it was bad for a few minutes, but…anyway, you get my meaning.”

I nodded. My phone rang, bringing my time to indulge in Kat to a close—for now. With a wave, she darted off, and I answered my phone. Maybe if I put in even later hours than usual for a few days, I could clear enough time to take Kat to dinner.

And if things went well—and I’d make sure they would—back to my place.

Chapter Three

Kat

As luck would have it, I had enough time to get a cup of coffee, which I didn’t even spill on myself. I managed to burn my tongue badly enough that I wouldn’t be tasting anything for the rest of the day, but since the caffeine was working its way through my system, I was still considering it a win.

I ducked into the lobby bathroom for a quick check in the mirror—the hair hadn’t magically tamed itself and I used a damp paper towel to tame the stray eyeliner—but I was feeling more confident than I had when I’d left my cute little rental this morning. I didn’t want to be someone who relied on compliments from men to feel good about themselves, but it’d been a while since anyone had hit on me, and I’d never been hit on by someone who was hot enough to make the strictest nun reconsider her stance on men.

I hope he calls me.

It was a thought I didn’t expect to have so soon after my breakup from Neil. I fell fast and hard, so it was no surprise that I fell hard for the cute accountant who worked a couple buildings down from mine. In the end, I think what brought us down was my failure to communicate exactly what I wanted. Part of me thought he should just know, but I knew that was unfair. I wanted passion and fireworks, along with a strong sense of security, and my logical side told me that wasn’t a likely combo. I needed to choose one or the other. And I did, I chose security.

But our sex was whatever came before vanilla on the taste scale. It was like…tofu. You stuck it in your mouth and thought it should taste like something, but then you kept on chewing and realized it didn’t. It was flavorless and kind of had an icky texture that you didn’t care for.

That was my sex life with Neil (but with less chewiness, although the icky texture was definitely a factor. I know, TMI). Anyway, I’d tried to hint at what I wanted—I’d implied he could be rougher with me; that I wouldn’t mind if he was more dominant. Only I couldn’t just say “Be a man and give it to me rougher and harder” or “For the love of God, stop asking me if it’s okay every few minutes, because if you have to ask, it’s not great”—without offending him. Even non-tough guys took those kinds of requests as insults on their masculinity, no matter how nonexistent it was.

So I’d tried to show him the movies with my favorite racy sex scenes, and I even read a few of the steamiest chapters from the erotica novels on my Kindle. They sure turned him on, but after all that husky breathing and mediocre tent-pitching, he didn’t take any cues from the heroes in the novel. No, he asked me to be more like the heroines. I wanted to please him and take things to a more exciting level, so I’d give him the lengthy blow job detailed in the pages, and in return, he’d thrust three times and finish while I was nowhere close to finishing, or even enjoying the weak thrusts.

For the last ten months I’d suffered through that, telling myself that his good qualities were enough to overlook boring sex. It was entirely possible that those novels only gave me false expectations of what sex could be like, but I had a feeling that sex with Jameson would be more like chocolate covered cinnamon bears, spicy and delicious, and completely satisfying on every level.

I fanned myself, my internal temperature rising with sexy thoughts about the sexy guy on the train, but then I gave myself a mental shake. That was a for-later thought, when I was alone in my bed, working on relieving ten months of sexual frustration by giving myself the only kind of orgasms I’d ever had—ones from my vibrator.

Noting my flushed cheeks in the mirror, I placed my cool hands over them. Time to stop thinking like a deprived nympho and start thinking like a woman who’s ready to learn everything she needs to in order for people to take her seriously as a boss.

Lifting my chin, I strode out of the bathroom and over to the elevator. I had a new boss to impress. I hoped that if I could show him that I was smart and capable, it’d change his mind about whatever bias he already had against me. No matter how hard I worked, people would always whisper about how I only got my job because I was the boss’s daughter. While, yes, that certainly had something to do with it, I was at the top of my classes in high school and college, and I put in more hours than most anyone else in the Hartford office. My marketing ideas and knowledge of the target audiences was greater than most of theirs, too, even if I sometimes hesitated to speak up and give my ideas until I was alone with my dad in his office.

Stupid jerks, making me doubt myself. Maybe I didn’t strike fear in their hearts, but I’d tried to be encouraging and motivate them to do their best. Instead I got a lot of excuses and guys who interrupted and talked over me at meetings.

So many times I’d wanted to shoot out of my chair and tell them that I’d had the floor and they’d better not interrupt me again. I said it in my head quite a bit, but apparently that wasn’t a very effective method.

I’d considered going the voodoo doll route a few times. But that seemed too far, and even sadder, unlikely to give me the results I wanted.

Which landed me here in this building, sucking up my pride and giving myself over to the idea that I did need help to achieve my goals.

My stomach lifted along with the elevator, and as I neared the twenty-fifth floor, I told myself that I was going to give my all to learning the ropes from Mr. Stone, the guy who’d climbed through the ranks at what used to be Wright & Harris Advertising Firm in five short years. One year later, when their firm merged with my dad’s marketing company, Taylor-Made Marketing, to create what was now Craze Advertising and Marketing Firm, JT Stone landed the CEO position. A position he’d held for four years. I’d heard endless stats and facts on the guy whenever Dad made comparisons where I repeatedly came up short.

How when he entered a room, people naturally straightened and paid attention.

How he’d cut spending and increased profits. How he was going to make Craze one of the biggest firms in the country, just you watch.

I needed to command respect, like he did.

Needed to be stern yet inspiring, like he was.

Needed to know more about every single division in the company and how they ran individually and together, the way he did. Oh, and let’s not forget the way everyone talked about how well his name suited him, because he was as hard and unforgiving as stone, and there was even speculation that his heart was made of impenetrable granite.

Talk about intimidating.

Honestly, I’d heard so much about how amazing he was that I’d started to find him incredibly annoying, without ever meeting him. I wished that my dad would use half as much pride when he talked about me.

As the doors opened with a bing, I stepped into the lobby and worked at shoving down the intimidation I felt just by walking into the office where Mr. Perfect Pants had done so many amazing things.

Being here, in this apprentice position, didn’t mean I’d failed. Not being open to learning would do that. So if becoming a glorified assistant for the immovable Mr. Stone for a month and a half was going to enable me to take over my dad’s company, so help me God, I’d be the best damn personal assistant he’d ever had.

Chapter Four

Jameson

“Go ahead and send her in.” I disconnected the line to the front desk and sat straighter in my seat. Ready or not, it was training time. If I were optimistic about this whole situation, I’d tell myself that maybe Katrina Taylor would help me accomplish more work instead of waste hours of my time.

I could use a good personal assistant to take over all the little time-consuming stuff that ate away hours of my day, but I was enough of a control freak that I hesitated to delegate tasks to someone I hadn’t personally trained to be me. Which would only take more time. I doubted a spoiled girl who needed her father to get her a job would fit the bill, though. I’d trained a lot of people in my day, but some were simply untrainable, mostly because they were too lazy to put in the effort it took to get to that next level.

My pen rolled off the edge of my desk, and I bent over to retrieve it. The door opened, and through the crack under my desk, I saw sexy shoes.

Sexy shoes that looked very familiar.

Great. Now I’m imagining things. It wasn’t like black high-heels were uncommon, and the fact that a woman I’d just met was taking up so much of my brain-space meant it was time to call up one of my usuals and take enough of the edge off that I could make it a few more days.

I sat up and forgot how to swallow.

Kat’s eyes flew wide, and her mouth dropped open. “I…You…You’re JT Stone?”

“In the flesh. And you must be Katrina Taylor.”

She nodded.

Fuck me. Now of course I saw it, how Katrina could be Kat. But how could this…? Of all the people I could run into on the fucking train.

“Should I…?” She gestured to the chair. “Or I can stand.”

“Please take a seat.” I needed to eradicate every thought I’d had about her and having those long legs wrapped around my waist. Definitely needed to avoid thinking about the way her heels would dig into my ass as I drove into her again and again.

I waved goodbye to my chance of taking a taste of those perfect tits. I couldn’t help taking one last subtle glance at them. She was breathing heavy enough that her chest was rising and falling, rising and falling, making it pretty fucking hard to not think about them.

Okay, so it wouldn’t be my last glance, but I’d never touch them. Never suck one into my mouth and hear her whimper and beg for more.

My hard-on strained against my zipper, and I readjusted in my seat. I needed to stop the dirty image reel, and I needed to do it fast. Not only was this woman going to slow me down, but she was also going to be a huge distraction. I didn’t cross lines with employees, temporary or not, and the fact that she was Stu’s daughter took her from off-limits to don’t-even-imagine-fucking-her territory.

She twisted a strand of hair around her finger and sunk her teeth into her full lower lip. “So, this is awkward, and so not how I planned on starting my new job.”

I curled my hands over my arm rests. “I hope you know that I would never be so unprofessional as to hit on you if I’d known who you were. That’s not how I run my office.”

“I didn’t know who you were, either, I swear. I’m not some crazy stalker who planned out running into you, and now that I think about it, I really should’ve looked up and studied your picture, which actually does sound like a stalker move, so I’m going to stop talking about that, but I’m all about professional lines.”

Shit. Now she was bright red, and it was as adorable as the blush, but I wasn’t thinking of her as adorable anymore, and I could tell she was as mortified as I was. If we could diffuse the situation a little, maybe this wouldn’t be a total clusterfuck. “You didn’t plan getting your purse stuck and a bunch of guys being assholes and not moving out of your way so I’d come help you?”

“How could I even plan something like—” She wrinkled up her forehead. “Oh. You were kidding?”

“I was.” I ran my hand through my hair. “Maybe we should start over.”

She nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, please.”

I extended my hand. “Jameson Stone. I usually go by JT when it comes to work.”

She took my hand and shook it. “Katrina Taylor. My friends call me Kat, but I take my job very seriously, and I know that Katrina is someone people will take more seriously, and I also know these shoes are high and ridiculous, and I’m here to learn from you and if you tell me that I need to wear sensible shoes or even flats, I’ll do it. Basically I’ll do anything you tell me to.”

My cock twitched at the idea of her doing anything I told her to, and its vote was bending her over my desk right here and right now.

Luckily my other head was in charge, even if its hold on making good decisions was shakier than usual. “The shoes are fine. Professional work attire is all that I ask, and you look very professional.” And also like you’ve just been fucked eight ways till Sunday, and I’d like to be the ninth.

Of all the women I could meet on the train, of all the offices she could walk into, why’d it have to be mine?

“I’m afraid my attempt to make a good impression totally failed.”

“You definitely make an impression,” I slipped and said.

Her eyebrow arched. “Look, I know you must be thinking I’m some spoiled girl whose daddy had to call in a favor to get her a job. Did he explain that I…?” She glanced down at her lap, where she was wringing her hands. “I have a hard time being as assertive as I need to. Which I suppose I don’t really have to tell you, since you saw it on the train.”

Some internal war raged inside her head, or maybe it was a pep-talk because she raised her gaze to mine and worked at keeping it there. “But I promise, I’m a hard worker. I’ll earn my job on my own merits, but I’m asking you to teach me how to be more assertive. How to be the kind of boss people listen to. If I don’t learn how, my dad’s going to pass the company on to this other doucheba—sorry, that’s not professional, and now you’re going to think that I’m lying about the fact that I actually am.”

“In my professional opinion, there are plenty of douchebags in our profession.”

She cracked a smile, and I told the warmth trying to spread through my chest to knock it off. “Anyway, my father will pass it on to him, but the company has been in my family for years, and I don’t want to let them down.”

And the hits just. Kept. Coming. Now I had to feel bad that my plans to restructure the company were going to not only leave Stu Taylor without an office to run but Kat—er, Katrina—wouldn’t be getting the job she was gunning for, either.

The least I could do was give her the needed skills to land another job, and I swore right then and there, that I would.

“I’ll teach you everything I can in the time we have,” I said.

“You will?”

“Isn’t that why you’re here?”

She nodded.

“Maybe say it out loud, like you mean it—people tend to take that a little more to heart.”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

She lifted her chin a few inches. “Yes, I want to learn from the best, and that’s you.”

I’d like to say I was above feeling a surge of pride over that, but I wasn’t. It was the truth, too. I was the best, mostly because I didn’t let emotion get in the way. In the end, she might hate me for it, but my training would help her land on her feet after everything went down.

She uncrossed and re-crossed those riveting legs of hers. “And what I lack in assertiveness, I make up with passion, tenacity, and endurance. One of my other goals is to make things easier on you as well, so this arrangement feels less like pity and more mutually beneficial for both of us.”

She was killing me with words that could be applied all too easily to the bedroom. Mutually beneficial, passion, tenacity… I’d love to see any of those things in action, and I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep myself from saying that endurance was something I was well-known for. “Well, then. Let’s get started.”

I stood and gestured for her to walk out the door of my office, so I could get her settled at the desk I’d positioned steps outside of my door.

My inner masochist came out because instead of looking away from the sway of her hips and the way the fabric of her skirt hugged her ass, I went ahead and drank in the view.

She claimed she wanted to make things easier, but I was sure nothing about this arrangement would be easy. Not with my thoughts constantly straying to her body and all the things I’d love to do to it.

No, hard was definitely the operative word.

Chapter Five

Kat

Don’t have dirty thoughts about the boss, don’t have dirty thoughts about the boss, don’t have dirty thoughts about the boss…

I kept on chanting it inside my head as I stepped inside his office on Wednesday morning. We’d worked together for two whole days, and I’d only imagined him stripping off his suit and undoing those buttons on his shirt once or twice.

Okay, maybe three or four times. An hour.

I told myself it’d just been too long since I’d had sex, and even that barely qualified since I never got to cross the finish line without helping myself while Neil cleaned up. Even then, though, it wasn’t like sex had ever been a big part of my life. Unless you counted my fictional tastes, and those books were what got me through the long, cold, lonely nights.

“Good morning, Mr. Stone.”

He looked up from his computer—so far we hadn’t crossed paths on the train again. The past two mornings I’d taken an earlier one and set up in a coffee shop just to make sure, because the more I was around him, the more my thoughts tried to veer right into the gutter. In my defense, the guy was basically walking suit porn.

I clasped my hands behind my back, sticking to my spot just a few steps inside the room.

“Why are you hovering near the door like you might need to bolt at any second?”

A sarcastic comment about him discovering my secret—that I was on the run from the law—was on the tip of my tongue, but I swallowed it back. Mostly because I also thought about how fun it’d be to add a flirty comment about how I was a bad girl, one who needed punished. I’d never have the guts to actually say that, but I knew it could pitch my voice in ways that’d hint at my improper attraction. “You looked busy. I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“That’s not it,” he said, a challenging gleam in his hawk-like gaze. Was it weird to suddenly wish I was his prey?

Yes, yes it is. “Just keeping the professional lines where they’re supposed to be. I didn’t want to enter your office without permission.”

“You can enter my office to check in and still keep inside the lines, and unless the door’s closed, you don’t need permission.”

Regarding that first part, I wasn’t sure I could. Was it keeping inside the lines to picture your boss as the hero in the steamy novel you were reading? I might’ve also inserted myself in the heroine’s place, and last night the two of them did some very dirty, delicious things to each other.

Time to redirect those thoughts. I took a couple of long strides into the room, stopping behind the empty chair across the desk from his. “I was just wondering if you needed me to get anything ready for the ten o’clock meeting in the conference room.”

“Did you get the presentation I emailed?”

I hugged the notebook I’d brought to help keep my hands busy to my chest. “Yes, and I’ve watched it through twice so I would be familiar with it.”

“Good.”

“Great.”

The corner of his mouth twisted up. “Well, at least you finish your sentences when they’re one word, even if I feel like you’re still holding back.”

“Super great,” I said. “Can’t wait for the meeting, and to see how you run it. I’ll be taking lots of notes.”

His smile spread, and holy shit it did melty, tingly things to my insides. “Super great. I’ll see you in there, then.”

I nodded and spun around, and he muttered something that I couldn’t make out. “What was that?” I asked over my shoulder.

“Nothing.”

“Now who’s talking in one-word sentences?” I teased, before wondering if teasing was okay.

“And yet, I’m holding back, too.”

I wanted to ask what he meant by that, but he turned to his computer and the tapping of the keyboard filled the air.

I settled into my desk and grabbed the stack of files I’d started organizing yesterday. I’d been introduced to everyone at the office, a rapid-fire exchange of names and titles that I was trying to imprint in my brain. In Hartford, we’d added a few people to help design ads, but we concentrated more on the marketing side of business. Before Dad had agreed to the merger, he’d fought to ensure the branch back home would stay open, even though it no longer bore his name. Most of the people had worked there for years, and several of the employees had been in my life since childhood. I loved the family-oriented feel of our office, something that was definitely not present here.

Alphabetically organizing files didn’t help me learn as much as I’d hoped, but this was part of pulling my weight and making things easier on Jameson—er, Mr. Stone. Or Stone as most everyone referred to him. The sympathetic looks people gave me when they found out I was his personal assistant didn’t exactly inspire confidence.

Debra, the receptionist, handled most of the office’s incoming phone calls, but when I saw all the lines blinking, I decided to help. I cleared my throat and picked up one of the lines. “Hello, Craze Advertising and Marketing, Katrina speaking.”

“I need to talk to JT.” The female voice was husky and suggestive, making his name sound like something naughty.

Or maybe I was projecting. At least she didn’t call him Jameson, but I wasn’t sure why that would make a difference to me, the girl who could only call him Jameson in her head. And I should really stop before I slip and do it aloud. Stone or Mr. Stone, from now on. “Can I ask who’s calling?”

“Just tell him it’s Vivienne.”

“Hold, please.” I was always worried I would accidentally hang up on someone or transfer before announcing them. I rang Jameson’s extension. “There’s a Vivienne on the phone for you.”

He let out a long exhale. “Go ahead and put her through.”

I did as directed, and a few minutes later, I noticed that “Dinner with Vivienne” had been added to his calendar on Friday night.

A night not for business meetings.

It’s not like I have any claim on him, I thought as my stomach dropped. In fact, working with him meant there could never be anything between us. But I sorta wished I didn’t have full access to his calendar or the responsibility of reminding him where he needed to be when. Can’t wait until I get to remind him about his dinner date with the sexy-sounding Vivienne.

Shortly before ten o’ clock, I went into the conference room and made sure everything was set up. I plugged the flash drive into the USB port and pulled up the presentation Stone had sent me.

People started to filter in, and just when I thought I might have to go retrieve the boss and remind him of the meeting, he stepped into the room. Our eyes met, and my stomach jumped up to my throat. He took the seat to my right, the one at the head of the table, and I quickly looked down at my notepad.

“Morning, everyone,” he said, his deep voice dancing across my nerve endings. “I assume you’ve all met Katrina?”

I gave the most awkward wave in the history of waves as they mumbled variations that boiled down to “yes.”

Then the meeting was off and running. Each department presented what they were working on. I watched Stone, studying the way he responded, either with his expression or words—mostly on the austere side, but he gave a lot of suggestions along with the criticism. The praise was short in supply, the few “that’s a good start,” replies had a clear keep trying undertone, and so far, there’d only been one simple “Good.”

I knew I was supposed to be learning, and I was, but I had a feeling if I’d responded to the employees at the Hartford branch the same way, they’d call me an emotionless bitch. But since I wasn’t going to solve the way women in business were treated compared to men this afternoon, I tried to take in what I could use and apply.

The creative director and media planner were up next, and as they gave their presentation of ads they were planning to launch this month, I tightened my grip on my pen and fought the urge to shake my head and interject.

A hand touched my shoulder, and I barely covered the fact that it startled me. “Katrina, you look like you’re deep in thought,” Stone said. “Care to share?”

Oh, holy crap. I hadn’t realized that my thoughts were so visible—clearly I needed to work on my poker face, or who knew what else he’d see. “I understand that things work a little differently in this office, and I’m still learning the ropes…”

“But,” he prompted.

“But the targeting is…well, it doesn’t match the research we’ve done at the Hartford branch. So unless it’s changed recently…?” I knew it hadn’t because I’d personally compiled the most recent report myself, but I was trying not to completely crush their spirits. “I think maybe the images need swapped so the top one goes toward the older audience and the bottom goes with the younger, but not with that font—it looks like it’s trying too hard, not to mention it doesn’t match the rest of the branding I’ve seen from that company. It seems to me, anyway.”

Stone’s intense blue gaze stayed on me a few extra seconds, and I wished I could read him better. Then he looked at Rob, the guy who was now looking at me like he was thinking up ways to murder me and dispose of my body. “Well?”

“It’s not as simple as she makes it sound,” Rob said.

Simple? I never made it sound simple, did I?

“The client liked the direction of these ads.”

Stone leaned his forearms on the table, his eyes narrowing. “I’m not asking if it’s simple, or if the client likes them. Did you do your due diligence on the company’s target market before designing the ads? Or is Katrina right about the targeting and branding being off?” He glanced at me again, but this time, more like I was a perplexing puzzle.

Jeez, is it hot in here? At least I knew my observations were spot on. The answer was yes I was right, no matter what anyone else said.

Frustration wafted off Rob as he looked from Stone to me to the media planner, who shrugged, then back to Stone. “I think this version will still sell the product, and the branding is different because I thought we could revamp it to grab more of the younger audience.”

Wrong. All that would do was alienate their older, loyal customers. If they really wanted to grab a younger audience, that wasn’t the way to go about it, either. Basically he’d designed an ad for no one.

Rob huffed. “I guess I can try to incorporate her suggestions and see if the client likes it, but that would take days—”

Stone’s demeanor went icy sharp, and I fought a shiver at just being in the vicinity. “Don’t try, just do it. You’ve got two days to send it to Katrina for approval.”

“Send it to me?” I blurted out, because I was still having that problem with my brain to mouth filter. Now I had two irritated men looking at me, and bright side, it helped put a dent in the attraction vibes I was feeling toward one of them, smoking hot or not. “I mean, yes, send it to me. I’ll, uh, give you my email address after the meeting.”

“She’ll also need the past three months' analytics reports so she can study them while you’re doing another mockup.”

“She’ll have it after lunch.” At Stone’s continuing glare, Rob amended it to, “Before lunch.”

“That’s what I like to hear. Next.”

Holy shit, I’m glad I’m not next. Talk about pressure.

David, who was the account manager, gave his presentation, and with that last department done, Stone had me start his presentation. There were graphs and numbers, and I understood most of them, since they were similar to figures I was used to working with.

I had watched it twice through already, but as Stone was talking, I spotted something I hadn’t last night.

“There’s another place you could improve,” I said.

“What was that?” Stone asked, and I shook my head.

“Never mind. We can discuss it later.”

“Don’t backtrack now. Speak up, loud enough I can actually hear you.”

My skin heated. I didn’t like having the spotlight, and did he have to be so damn abrasive about it? The guys at my office didn’t always take me seriously, but no one talked to me so sharply. I took a sip of my water and then put as much volume as I could behind my words, thinking that even if they were wrong, at least everyone would hear them.

Wait. Isn’t that worse?

“You’re bragging about your click-through-rate, but the sell-through-rate isn’t enough to merit spending that. I’d guess it’s because your targeting is off on that account as well, judging by which social media outlets you’re focused on.”

I swear the lady seated to my left gasped, and the muscle in Stone’s jaw tightened.

“Off? I set up this account myself, and my analytics prove it’s effective.”

Well, here goes nothing. I hoped he wouldn’t fire me afterward, because it’d kill me to have to go home with my tail tucked between my legs. “It’s effective, but not as effective as it could be. That’s not where most of your target age-range spends much of their time anymore. And sure, a lot of the older audience clicks on the ad, because it catches their eye and they’re curious what the heck it’s about, but then they see it’s the kind of thing those”—I made air quotes—“‘damn millennials like’” and that alone prevents them from buying it. And I know there’s merit in repetition, but my research shows that other platforms would be more effective, and even better, not as flooded yet, which would lower the CTR even more.”

I stood and pointed to the graphs. “Shift a fourth of the money to the next age demographic on that platform because some of them will buy the product, and split what you have left on these other two, and both your CTR and STR will be something you can really brag about.”

If Stone had Superman powers, I was pretty sure this would be the part where he’d use his heat vision to fry me. It made me want to sit down and take it all back—once I’d gotten through the holy-shit phase, the numbers and stats just flowed right out, and I’d probably overdone it a tad. “How sure are you about this?”

My rapid pulse hammered through my head. Before he asked? Ninety percent. After, with him and everyone else in the office looking at me? Closer to sixty. “Well, according to my research—”

“Forget research. I’m asking you. How sure are you, and what is your gut saying?”

I focused on the graph behind him. “I’m sure that if you…” I almost said try, but decided to swap that out. “Do it for a couple of weeks, you’ll increase the profit margin—one hundred percent sure. I can watch and tweak the ads as needed if you’d like.”

“I would. Especially since all of the research I paid a lot of money for says this is the most cost-effective method.”

I bit my lip and Stone’s gaze dipped there, so quickly I almost thought I’d imagined it. I wanted to reply with What can I say? You hired the wrong research company because they’re wrong and I’m right. But I wasn’t that bold. “I’ll change things over after the meeting and give you a report next week.”

“I want a nightly report. If I’m going to put that much faith in what you say, I want daily proof it’s working.”

“That’s not really faith, then, is it?”

The room went dead silent, and I understood why it was called dead silent, because I was pretty sure Stone wanted to kill me.

“I mean—”

“That’s it for today’s meeting,” he said. “Everyone knows what they need to do. Now go to it.” Without waiting to see if anyone had comments or questions, like my dad usually did and I planned on doing, he turned and strode out of the office like he had a pressing appointment.

He didn’t. I’d know, because I could see his calendar.

I gave my email address to Rob, who was surly enough to make it clear he was holding a grudge, regardless of the fact that we could now be comrades-in-scolding. Debra came over, sandwiched one of my hands between both of hers, and gave me a shaky smile that had a last-rites edge to it.

After everyone else had cleared out, I slowly gathered my supplies, the flash drive with the presentation, and basically did everything I could think of before heading back to my desk.

My butt had just hit the chair when my intercom buzzed.

“In my office, now.”

No addressing me by name, no I’d like to see you, or Please come to my office so we can talk. Part of me was offended, but the rest of me was too terrified to deal with that right now.

Chapter Six

Kat

“Close the door,” Stone said, and it was ironic that he’d accused me of looking like I wanted to bolt out the door and run away this morning because I suddenly had the urge to do just that.

I did as he asked because there was still a healthy dose of fear squeezing at my insides. And a pinch of thinking dirty thoughts about him crossing the room and kissing the hell out of me, which added a thread of lust, and then my emotions were like drunk butterflies, crashing into each other and slurring nonsensical thoughts all at once.

“You use ‘I mean’, ‘maybe’, and ‘it seems’ too much. You don’t make eye-contact and you back down. You don’t speak loud enough for people to hear you very well—unless it’s to add a smartass remark, that is.”

Offense pinched my insides, and I crossed my arms. “Well, which do you want me to do? Speak loud or nod and be a good little minion?”

He raked a hand through his hair. “I’d like some respect, especially in front of my employees.”

“It was supposed to be funny, not disrespectful.” I sighed. “See, this is why I hold back. Sometimes what I say is fine, and sometimes what I say is ‘disrespectful.’ I’m sure no one’s ever contradicted you before but—”

“People contradict me all the time.”

“And then get lectures?” I wasn’t sure how I’d even lasted this long in this conversation. Usually this was where I’d just say “Yes, sir” and go back to my desk and hold back tears until I could go home and cry and vent to my plant, who always understood. “Don’t act like you weren’t egging me on a bit, telling me to speak up in front of everyone.”

He stood, placed his palms on his desk, and leaned forward. “To motivate you to stop…” He made a low noise in the back of his throat that sounded rather close to a growl. “Holding back.”

“Oh. Now it’s crystal clear.”

The exaggerated sigh he released held about as much frustration as I was currently feeling. I’d thought this break from an office where everyone already had their mind made up about me would be nice, and that six weeks might not be enough time to learn everything I needed for them to take me more seriously. Now I was ready to leave this beautiful yet aggravating man in my rear-view mirror and go back to my office, where at least I felt in control of my emotions, if not my employees.

But this wasn’t about being in control or winning an argument. It was about gaining the skills I needed so I could run the Hartford branch and do justice to my family’s legacy. Sometimes I felt like my dad wished he’d had a son and I needed to prove to him that I was ready and able for the job, so he’d look at me with more pride than disappointment. “I didn’t mean to disrespect you, but I get it. I’ll work on speaking up when I need to and holding back when I need to do that. And if I get confused on which is which, I’m sure you’ll have no problem letting me know.” I gritted out an approximation of a smile. “Anything else, Mr. Stone?”

He came around the desk and stared at me for five full heart-stopping seconds.

The air crackled between us, and while it was electric-charged, I wasn’t sure what else was there. Irritation? Provocation? Lust?

Fine, on my part I had a little of all three.

“That’ll be it for now.”

I swore I was going to suck it up so I could learn and go back home with new people skills and shit, but my arm didn’t get the memo, and it decided a sarcastic salute would be the way to go.

With that delivered and fear taking over, I spun around.

“Kat,” he said, his voice low and gruff, and a spike of awareness shot up my spine. He hadn’t used the more intimate form of my name since the train, and it made me freeze in place.

I felt him come up behind me, but I was too much of a coward to face him now. Why couldn’t he just let me have my dramatic exit?

His breath stirred the hair by my ear. “Let me guess. Not many people told you what to do at your daddy’s office. Maybe there you could get away with getting mad and storming off when someone challenged you on something, but that’s not gonna fly here.”

The daddy’s office jab cut deep. “You’re one to talk,” I shot back—apparently the key to saying exactly what I thought, nice and loud, was making me mad enough to see red. “You stormed off after I shot down the bragging stats in your meeting.”

“I do not storm off.”

“Oh, right. Because you’re a man. Your tantrums are called being alpha.”

His body pressed into me, warm and firm, and he curled his hand around my upper arm. “If you can’t take constructive criticism, what’s the point of you working here?”

“If I’m too afraid to speak my mind for fear you’ll snap at me afterward, what’s the point of me trying to speak up?” My voice came out a little breathier than I preferred, but at least it’d come out. “All of your employees are scared of speaking up, by the way—I saw it in there.”

“This is how I get things done. You don’t have to like it.”

“Good. Because I don’t.” It was easier to be bold with my back to his front, but I liked the way his body pressed into mine a little too much.

His hand grazed my hip as he lowered his hand and I sucked in a sharp breath.

“I’ll have Rob and David send you all the information you’ll need to switch up the marketing budget, and I expect the first report tomorrow evening. Understand?”

Don’t look back at him, don’t look back at him. “I understand.”

“On your way, then.”

Without looking back, I made the retreat I’d tried to before my body got all revved up by being too close to his.

Chapter Seven

Jameson

Kat was going to be the death of me. I was having trouble separating her from our first interaction on the train. In a way, she did seem like two people. Kat and Katrina. And while my first impression of her was that she was timid, under the surface was a hellcat just waiting to be unleashed.

I really wanted to unleash her, claws and all.

I looked out my office window, to where I could see her at her desk, furiously typing away.

I could still hear her voice in my head. Anything else, Mr. Stone?

I shouldn’t get so turned on when she called me Mr. Stone, but I did. I shouldn’t get turned on by her at all, but her amazing ass and her fucking tight skirts made a wicked combo. Most of the women I slept with were on the thinner side. Occasionally they had nice breasts—which they’d sometimes bought—or a nice ass, but the fact that Kat had both made me unsure which one I’d worship first when I peeled off her clothes.

Not that I’d be doing that, ever.

I scrubbed a hand over my face. Fuck.

Now I was supposed to get back to work and concentrate when all I wanted to do was go home and fantasize about stripping Kat naked and pulling her into the shower with me. Then I could close my eyes and imagine the rest, even if it wouldn’t be nearly as satisfying as locking my office door and bending her over my desk.

Or taking her against the wall.

Every surface of my office suddenly became fodder for fantasies involving Kat.

She was smart, too, and I wanted my dick in her smart, wet mouth.

Then I’d work on getting her to make other noises, all pleasure, none of the annoyance that laced our confrontation.

Okay, this isn’t helping. I opened up my email and started working my way through the urgent ones. I managed, but for the entirety of the afternoon, I had to force myself to focus on work, something that usually occupied my every waking thought.

* * *

I had a plan. A way to keep visions of naked Kat from dancing through my head. It involved reciting stats and a bunch of boring, mind-numbing shit. But it didn’t matter. Once I stepped into my office Thursday morning to find her bent over the bottom filing cabinet drawer of my desk, ass in the air, breasts nearly spilling out of her top, my plan meant jack shit. The only thing that would be strong enough to stifle the naughty images right now was if I was into dudes.

My cock twitched, way too eager after being neglected for too long, making it clear I was not. And that was after last night’s shower session that I’d finally gotten to indulge in. After diverting my gaze and plugging some numbers into a couple of different compound interest formulas, I was under control enough to clear my throat and let my presence be known.

Kat straightened, a stack of files in her hands. Since this was the fourth day in a row that her hair was full and mussed, I concluded that it just always looked like someone had recently wrecked her.

Before I lost track of what I wanted to say or managed to piss her off with just my presence, I said, “I thought about it, and you’re right about what you said yesterday.”

The surprise in her widened eyes almost made me laugh.

“But you’re also wrong.”

She sighed, her whole body getting in on it. “This is already going great,” she muttered.

She was frustrating and sexy as hell and already working her way under my skin. “I don’t understand. On the train, you wouldn’t tell those guys to move out of your way, and in the conference room with everyone else, it was soft-spoken maybes and lots of backtracking. But you have no trouble speaking your mind and using that boldness that you claim you don’t have with your employees on me.”

“Honestly, I don’t understand, either. My filter doesn’t work very well with you, and something about you—especially when you goad me—makes me say exactly what I’m thinking instead of backpedaling and acquiescing.”

“I don’t know whether to feel special or sorry for myself.”

The corner of her mouth kicked up as she lost the battle to hold back a smile. “You’re very special. I’m sure your mommy thinks so, anyway.”

I shook my head and crossed the office to where she stood.

She moved out from behind my desk, wielding the stack of files in her hand like a shield. Like it wouldn’t be easy for me to bat them out of her hands and close the space between us in one large stride. “Debra let me into your office, by the way. I just wanted to pull some files so I could see what your last few ad campaigns for the company looked like before approving the changes on the new ad, and so I could get the big picture on the other account I’m tweaking, like we discussed in the meeting.”

“That’s fine. I’m interested to see how this new direction works.” I flashed her a big smile. “See how encouraging I am?”

She rolled her eyes, but her lips were still quirked up at the corners.

“I didn’t finish explaining how you’re right, but also wrong.”

She readjusted the files when they started to slip. “I made a goal to be better at taking your constructive criticism, so I’ll do my best to stand here and nod and agree.”

I clenched my jaw, the humor leaking out of me. “That’s not what I want.” I set my laptop bag on my desk. “You were right when you said that if you’re afraid I’ll snap at you, you might be too afraid to speak your mind. And maybe I don’t dish out compliments to my team as much as I should…”

She only arched an eyebrow, but I could tell she had a lot of thoughts on the subject.

“But if I’m too soft, nothing gets done. Isn’t that the problem you’ve run into? Isn’t that why you’re here working with me instead of running things in Hartford?”

She pressed her lips together, but I wasn’t going to let her get away with not verbalizing her answer, so I kept on staring until she got nice and uncomfortable with the silence. “Yes. It has been a problem for me—I already admitted as much.”

“I also can’t let people disrespect me in front of my employees, even if it’s supposed to be funny—even if it was kind of funny.” Admittedly, when I’d thought about her “That’s not really faith” comment last night, I’d accidentally smiled. I might be biased, though. If Rob or anyone else in that room had given me the same answer, I doubt I ever would’ve found it amusing. Not that most of them were that sharp-witted, although given enough time, they could come up with witty slogans and ads. “We need to figure out some guidelines and social cues. We need…something, anyway.”

“I trip over guidelines, and social cues have never been my strong point, but I can something pretty damn well.”

I didn’t bother to hold back my smile. “I guess we’ll start there, then.”

She leaned her hip on the corner of my desk. “I thought about it last night, too, and it’s possible that I am too used to being the boss, and I don’t exactly like that I’m not anymore. Like I said, I’m trying to be better about accepting that I do have a lot to learn, and guidelines are probably a good way, especially considering how we met. I think it’s the only way we’ll survive working together without killing each other.”

Or tearing off each other’s clothes. “I agree. See? We’re already starting off better than yesterday.”

“It’s kind of like being proud of beating a kid to the ice cream truck, but yeah. Better than yesterday.” She shook the hair that’d fallen into her eyes off her face, but it just fell right back down.

Without thinking, I reached up and brushed it behind her ear.

Her mouth dropped and the shallow breath she let out skated across my wrist. Then I was cupping her cheek, marveling at her soft skin. She licked her lips. “We should probably have a no-touching guideline. Or like, just hand shaking.” She readjusted the files to one arm, took my hand from her face, and gave it one firm shake.

I folded her hand into mine, holding it instead of continuing the up and down motion. “Good idea.”

“Jameson.”

Did I say it turned me on when she called me Mr. Stone? Because it also turned me on when she said my first name. Hell, this woman just turned me on, period. I knew she had a valid point, so I slowly released my grip. “And in the conference room, you leave out the sarcasm, as well as the backpedaling. The acquiescing we’ll take one situation at a time.”

She leaned in conspiratorially. “But I can use the sarcasm here in your office when it’s just you and me? What about if I disagree with you? Can I tell you in private without you going all grumpy pants?”

“No promise on the grumpy part, but you can disagree with me, and I’ll do my best to listen to your wrongness.”

Fire flickered through her eyes.

This was the most fun I’d had in a long time, and I was about to lose control of my body again. “As for the sarcasm, I think I might miss it. I’m sure you won’t give me a chance to find out, though.”

“Not a chance.”

“Let’s start there, then. If we need more guidelines, we’ll add them.”

“Deal.” Her gaze dipped, running down my tie to the situation in my pants I was trying to control, and then she bit her fucking lip and the thread on my control frayed. “I guess I better, uh, get to these files.”

I nodded because I didn’t trust myself to say anything that wouldn’t be heavy with innuendo.

I watched her walk across my office, my erection straining against the zipper of my suit pants, which were as shit at concealing things as I was at tempering my reaction to my surprisingly-feisty assistant. When she reached the doorway, I said, “Kat?”

She glanced over her shoulder at me.

“Don’t you have any skirts that don’t show off your assets so nicely?”

Pink crept into her cheeks—the ones I could see, but for the record, I’d love to see if that blush traveled across her entire body. Even commenting on her skirt was probably sexual harassment territory, and something I should’ve held back, but as I mentioned, I wasn’t very good at it when it came to the woman standing across the office from me. “Is that a guideline, Mr. Stone? Longer, looser skirts?”

“Hell no.” I swallowed, hard. “And I better not say anything else because you’re of course free to wear whatever you want to the office.”

She glanced around the area outside my office—I assumed to check no one was around, which was something I should also be paying closer attention to—turned to face me, and stuck her hip against the doorframe. “Oh, good. Because I bought this new lingerie, and I’ve been dying for a place to wear it.” She punctuated her statement with a vixen smile, then she spun around and continued toward her desk.

Leaving me to stare after her, mouth agape, like an eighteen-year-old boy who’d just stepped inside a strip club for the first time.

And this much older than eighteen-years-old man was ready to throw out every fucking rule and guideline and beg for a lap dance.

Chapter Eight

Kat

A succubus has invaded my body. It’s the only explanation because I certainly don’t say things about wearing lingerie to the office, not even as a joke. For one, it wouldn’t be funny. It’d be the stuff of embarrassing nightmares, and I hadn’t bought new lingerie in a while, and now I was thinking I should buy some, even though the only person who would ever see it was me.

But if there was a chance that Jameson would see it…

No. Bad, brain. Guidelines were just made for this very reason. He’s my boss. Yes, he’s hot as the fiery depths of hell, and I’m sure the sex would be just as scorching, but we so can’t go there.

We as in me and the sex-starved succubus who’d possessed my body, of course.

I was also sex-starved, though. The fact of the matter was, I couldn’t even tell my boyfriend of nine months that I wanted to experiment with rougher, more exciting sex back when I’d been trying to save our relationship. So while flirting with Jameson came more naturally than it ever had with anyone, I didn’t delude myself that my inner sex goddess—or demon, as it were—would be able to tell him exactly what I wanted.

With Jameson, I probably wouldn’t have to. I thought of the tattoos peeking out from the sleeves of his suitcoat, the broad shoulders, the powerful thighs, and the bulge I’d noticed this morning.

“Hey, did you get the email I sent?”

I jerked myself out of my naughty fantasies featuring the one guy I definitely couldn’t go there with and peered into the face of a guy so his opposite that it nearly gave my hormones whiplash. Rob made sure to flaunt his air of impatience, which made me pull up my inbox at the same speed nail polish dried. “Just got it.”

“I sent it last night.”

I almost let that go, but I was learning to be assertive, and this guy clearly didn’t respect me. Without a little respect and fear, he’d be just like the douchebag who was next in line for my dad’s position if I failed here, pompous and impossible to work with. “Well, I’ve been focusing on a different marketing plan this morning, so this is the first time I checked my email, which means I just got it.” I added a syrupy smile. “I’ll look over it and let you know if I need anything else.”

He took a step away, and when I glanced down to see the email wasn’t a mockup but a report, I frowned. I hesitated again because surely he knew the deadline was looming, but then I pushed myself to make sure he did. And that he knew I did. I certainly didn’t want to explain to Jame—Stone why it wasn’t done yet, especially since it was the first thing he’d assigned to me. “Looks like that ‘anything else’ is sooner than expected. Thanks for the report, but how’s the redesign going? Are you on target to get me a mockup by this afternoon?”

Rob’s face twisted up in a scowl. “I know the deadline.”

I wasn’t going to let him off the hook with that non-answer, so I arched an eyebrow. “I’m going to need a better status report than that.”

His gaze drifted over my shoulder and then I felt Stone’s presence acutely, my neck prickling, heat pooling low in my stomach. I glanced back at him and the oxygen sucked out of the room.

Did he have to be so sexy, whether smiling or stern or looking at me with what I swore was a hint of pride?

Maybe he’ll reward me for being such a good pupil. I crossed my legs, trying to curb the ache blooming between my thighs.

“I’ll get you a mockup by three,” Rob said.

“Looks like Katrina’s got this covered. Don’t bother CC’ing me. Katrina can give me highlights until you’ve sent her something she approves.”

Rob didn’t dare argue with him. Just a simple “Yes, sir” and he was gone.

Stone came over and sat on the edge of my desk. “That was better. You’re learning to speak your mind and be firmer with the employees—maybe I’m not as special as I thought.”

Working to keep a calm, unaffected front, I said, “Well, I might’ve been listening to constructive criticism someone kind of special gave me yesterday after our meeting, even though I was also semi-annoyed by it.”

He leaned closer, and I crossed my legs tighter. “Kind of special?”

“Wouldn’t want you to get a big head.”

“Too late.” He tapped my desk. “You’re coming to lunch with me today, by the way. That’s why I originally stepped out of my office—that and I’m in need of coffee.”

I tensed, offense winding through me and replacing the momentary skip of my heart over the thought of having lunch with him. There was learning, but being his glorified secretary with my degree and my experience ate at me, even as I told myself that I shouldn’t be above fetching coffee.

I might not be above “accidentally” dumping it on his lap, though.

“Relax, I’m not asking you to get me coffee,” he said, way too much amusement in the curve of his mouth. “I was only informing you of our lunch plans on my way to get it myself. If I don’t move around a little at work, I’ll end up with a trucker gut.”

My gaze dipped to his taught abdomen, the peek of his crisp white shirt making it clear he didn’t have a gut. “If you get that body from long walks to get coffee, I’m going to have to try it out. I’ve been attempting to jog a couple of miles every night, and all it’s doing is making me crave more dessert, which I then eat, because dessert is delicious, so that pretty much sabotages the losing weight part.”

When I realized I was still staring—and possibly drooling—over his far-too-covered abs, I glanced up. His eyebrows were drawn low.

“What?”

“I…” He closed his mouth.

“Who’s starting sentences without finishing them now?” I teased.

He straightened and shook his head, and I wondered if I’d managed to upset him again.

“Sorry, was that disrespectful?” I whispered, glancing around, but I didn’t see anyone within hearing range, which I thought meant joking was okay. “I know we have guidelines. Which might also mean that lunch isn’t a good idea.”

“The joke was fine. It’s what I want to say about your body that’d be crossing lines.” He smoothed a hand down his black silk tie. “As for the lunch, it’s a business meeting with a prospective client, and I think it would be beneficial for you to be there.”

In other words, he thought I needed to learn about how to conduct meetings with prospective clients. I might not be the best at being a stern, authoritarian boss, but landing clients was like shooting fish in a barrel.

What’s that saying all about? It seems like it would be kind of hard shooting fish in a barrel. Or does it mean that they’re all squirming around and squished in there, so you hit a lot of them?

“Katrina?”

Oops. Important barrel-fish-thoughts needed to wait for later. “Lunch. Of course. What time?”

“The reservation is at one, so we’ll need to leave at ten till.” He glanced down at my super-tall footwear—I’d worn strappy purple heels today. “Better make it twenty till. Unless you need me to call for a car?”

“I can walk,” I said, hoping it was true since he hadn’t told me how far away the restaurant was. “I’ll be ready then.”

He gave a nod and then he walked toward the break room, where the coffee pot would be. And I tried not to wonder what he’d wanted to say about my body.

And failed.

Maybe he was going to give me some workout tips. Or tell me that I should skip dessert now and then…

My stomach dropped and my lungs felt too tight.

With my thoughts on all my body’s flaws, that lingerie idea was definitely out, so it was a good thing that it was just a joke. One he’d seemed to find as hot as it was funny, but I was probably deluding myself again.

There was a big difference between being okay with fucking a girl and loving every inch of her body. A couple of my boyfriends had proved that much. It was another reason I almost felt guilty for asking for what I wanted—I knew I wasn’t a ten on the scale, but they weren’t, either.

Part of me thought if I got more in shape and worked on fixing myself up, then it’d be easier to find someone who’d be willing to experiment with me. Easier to say that I’d like to do stuff that was more acrobatic and less lying there.

That’s it. I’m having a salad for lunch, and when I get home, no matter how late it is, or how tired I am, I’m going to jog for at least three miles.

Chapter Nine

Jameson

I rose to my feet once Randall Walker approached the table Kat and I had just settled into. I’d wanted a couple of extra minutes with her, but it was probably better that I didn’t take it. I’d barely resisted the urge to put my hand on her back the entire walk here.

I shook his hand and then made introductions. “Katrina, this is Randall Walker, owner of Walker Hospitality. Randall, Katrina Taylor. She’s working with me in my office right now and helping me up my marketing game.”

The two of them shook hands, and I didn’t miss the way Randall’s eyes lingered on the neckline of Kat’s shirt, something that continued even after he’d taken a seat. I fought back the urge to kick him under the table and tell him to knock that shit off. I’m pretty sure it was frowned upon to kick prospective clients.

But checking her out and thinking about her naked was my job, and I didn’t want anyone else to do it. I cleared my throat, and he looked at me. I pushed his menu toward him. “This place is famous for their steak and shrimp. I can never choose, so it’s good they have an entrée that includes both.”

When the waitress came over, she started with Kat, who ordered a salad and asked what the low-calorie dressing was.

I frowned at her. “You’re not having a salad.”

The smile she gave me appeared polite but had sharp edges. After only a few days of being around her, I could see the difference between her real smile and her I’m-imagining-creative-ways-to-injure-you one.

If she wanted suggestions, my vote went to rough foreplay, with some even rougher sex.

“Yes I am,” she whispered, and for a second my mind was so caught up in imagining pornographic scenarios that I thought she was saying she was open to it. But then she looked at the waitress and opened her mouth, assumedly to pick the fucking low-calorie dressing. I was sure this had to do with her comment about trying to lose weight, which was ridiculous. She was fucking perfect, and this place had the best steak in the city—she wasn’t having a salad on my watch.

“She’ll have the steak…” I eyed her. “Medium well,” I guessed. “With the shrimp.” I put my hand on her knee. “Unless you have a seafood allergy?”

She glanced down at my hand and blinked at it, before seeming to remember we were in the middle of the argument. She lifted her chin. “I don’t, but—”

“And I’ll have the same, but make mine medium rare, please.”

“Make that three,” Randall said. “But rare for me.”

Funny how the instant another guy announced they were going to have their steak rarer than yours, you felt the need to change; to prove you were manly enough to eat bloody, barely cooked meat. But I was more evolved than I used to be back in college when everything was a challenge and I always had to win.

The waitress nodded and gathered the menus.

“But…” In this instance, I was glad that Kat was too soft-spoken, because the waitress didn’t hear her, or possibly she just didn’t want to get in the middle of it.

I turned my attention to Randall. “You said you had a few more questions, so ask away and let me reassure you that Craze Marketing and Advertising Firm is the best choice for Walker Hospitality.”

“Really it boils down to one thing,” Randall said. “The monthly fee is on the higher side, and I know another company who’ll do it for cheaper.”

“I’m sure you can find cheaper, but you won’t find better, or anyone who can increase your profit margin like we can,” Kat said. “That’s one of the many benefits of having a comprehensive team who does both the advertising and marketing.”

I glanced at her.

“Sorry. Did you want to tell him that part?”

“Be my guest.” Truth be told, I had explained that already, but I hadn’t gotten his attention the way Kat did. For one, I didn’t have her amazing breasts or that dazzling smile. I could be charming when I wanted to be, but I found ruthless and overly-confident worked better in business, two things that hadn’t worked so far on Randall.

Kat ran a hand through her hair and I caught a whiff of perfume or her shampoo, and whatever it was smelled as intoxicating as she looked. “Well, I took a look at your company’s website and the marketing you have in place right before we came, and I saw at least five things we could improve on right away.”

“Like what?” he asked.

She clicked her tongue at him. “You want me to just give our secrets away? Come on, Randall, you know better than that.”

The guy hung his head like he was ashamed, but his grin was too big to pull it off. “Had to try, you know.”

“Just like you know Jame—Mr. Stone and I would never fall for that. But I believe that with a few tweaks, we can increase your visibility, your brand recognition, and most importantly, your profit margin. Enough to pay our higher fee and then some. It just depends on if you’re happy putting around in a four-cylinder sedan or if you want a V-8 Caddy that growls when you start it and leaves your competition in the dust. There’s a reason an Escalade costs more than a Volkswagen Beetle.”

Randall looked at me.

“Not much else to say, really—she summed it up perfectly. I promise to personally set up your account and watch over it, and I think my reputation speaks for itself.”

“And will Katrina be working on it as well?” he asked.

In other words, I want to be able to call her under the pretense of business, with the hopes of it leading to more. No fucking way, buddy.

She looked to me for the answer, which I appreciated.

“Katrina’s only with us temporarily—she has an office to run in Hartford.” The reminder bothered me. I told myself it was a good thing. There might even be a week or two period before she returned to her old job where we could cram as much time between the sheets as possible. A nice, banging farewell.

Only then I’d be shutting down that office, eradicating the job I was supposed to be training her for. Then she’d hate me and probably think that I used her, which left her off-limits once again, and I couldn’t see a time when that would magically change, no matter how much I wished otherwise.

“But until she leaves she’ll be working on your account with me,” I said, forcing myself to focus on landing this deal. I’m not sure when I started to care about hurt feelings, and I didn’t like it. It certainly wasn’t how I’d gotten to where I was, and it wouldn’t get me to where I wanted to be.

Caring and feelings equaled weakness and being taken advantage of, and if I was going to take Craze to the next level and prove I deserved to keep on running the company to the board members, I couldn’t have any chinks in my armor. There were people who wouldn’t hesitate to take me down, the way they’d taken down my dad when he’d shown his soft underbelly. Despite my many accomplishments and how hard I’d busted my ass to achieve so much in such a short time, the elite business circle in Boston was a surprisingly small world, and being Jim Stone’s son was already one mark against me. One that made several board members hesitate when I was up for the position of CEO.

I needed to think about the big picture, the one I’d live with permanently. Needed to focus on fixing my dad’s legacy and leaving one behind that I could be proud of.

Between that need to win at all costs and the way that I was once again considering kicking Randall and telling him to stop ogling what was mine, I started to think that maybe I wasn’t quite as evolved as I’d claimed to be.

Chapter Ten

Kat

As we walked out of the restaurant, Jameson put his hand on the small of my back, applying gentle pressure as he nudged me toward the left.

“Guideline,” I said.

“No need for any new guidelines. You did great in there.”

I slowed my pace and turned toward him. “I wasn’t asking for more. I was pointing out the fact that you’re breaking one. For the third time today. Although I suppose the first one when you cupped my cheek was before we made the no-touching guideline, so I’ll let that one slide. But the knee-touch and this hand on the back thing, are definitely no-nos.”

“Your attention-to-detail skills are quite impressive,” Jameson said, his hand still on my back, radiating heat that spread farther the longer he touched me. “No need to improve on those.”

I shot him a look, and he just smiled, like he knew he could get away with whatever he wanted. Which reminded me, I was still mad at him for that stunt in the restaurant. I took a large step, out of his reach. “Oh, and I can order my own food, too, so why don’t we add that to the guidelines? Only I feel like you take guidelines as more of a suggestion, so maybe we should make it a rule.”

“Don’t tell me that steak wasn’t the best you’ve ever had.”

I wanted to, just to disagree with him, but the way it’d melted in my mouth in a burst of flavors and the fact that I’d practically licked my plate clean made it impossible to deny. “That’s not the point.”

He took a large step and returned his hand to the small of my lower back, nudging me down the sidewalk with gentle pressure and that same intoxicating heat that made my thoughts go fuzzy. “The point is, I hate you thinking you need to lose weight because it’d be a shame to mess with those perfect curves.”

“Easy for someone who doesn’t have any curves to say. I know you do more than walk to the coffee pot now and then.” Since we were apparently just breaking the no-touching guideline, I reached over and squeezed his biceps through his suit coat.

He shot me a smile and curled his arm up, flexing and trapping my hand in the crook of his elbow.

Damn. They’re even harder than I expected.

“Yep. Proof right here,” I said.

He returned his hand to my back, but instead of leaving it at that, he slid it around and hooked my hip, bringing me against him. “How can you be sure that’s not from how many times I lift the coffee pot?”

I tilted my head. “Not buying it. Even a little. I’m guessing you’re one of those guys who wakes up ridiculously early to work out.”

“Hmm. Interesting theory. Where else is this supposed proof?”

I indulged him and poked at his firm chest. Then I flattened my hand and dragged it down to his hard abs. God help me, I felt ridges through the shirt.

In one quick motion, he spun me around and backed me up until my body hit the wall of the nearest building—I wasn’t sure which one because I’d gotten lost in feeling him up. What I was sure of was that I was playing with fire and doing a crappy job of sticking to guidelines we’d made mere hours ago. “I feel like it should be my turn now,” he said, his gravelly voice right next to my ear. “I’ve wanted to get my hands on that amazing ass since the first moment I saw you.”

The ache between my thighs returned, and as if he could sense it, he slid one leg between both of mine, pressing right against the pulsing need.

Immediately my body went Team Friction on me, hinting that it was in favor of humping his leg here on the sidewalk to ease the torturous pressure.

Even if I was shameless enough to do it—which I wasn’t, not here on the street, anyway—I had a feeling that doing that would only make the desire coursing through me stronger.

Through the hazy thoughts, I tried to find my common sense. She was a slippery little bitch, but I finally caught hold of her. “Four times.” It came out shaky, but I’d managed to shove the words past my lips.

“Four times sounds reasonable, as long as each session only counts as one,” he said, his mouth moving mere inches from mine. “Should we start with my place or yours?”

I pressed a hand to his chest, holding him in place. “I meant this is the fourth time that you’re breaking the no-touching guideline.”

Confusion flickered for a second before he understood what I’d meant. “I thought we weren’t counting the first time.”

“That was before you purposely broke the guidelines. And leaning against me like this…” Haziness laced with lust tried to take hold of me again and I swallowed past a suddenly dry throat. “Probably counts as five.”

His firm chest rose and fell against my palm. “Well, they’re adding up rather quickly, aren’t they?”

I nodded.

His lips returned to my ear, and when he spoke, they brushed the shell and sent shivers down my spine. “It’s just that it’s been a long time since I was this attracted to someone. And I know you’re attracted to me, too.”

I curled my hands around his arms because even with the building behind me, I felt like I was going to melt to the ground. “Of course I am. That’s like saying that women are attracted to sexy sports stars, tattooed musicians, and Scottish dudes in kilts—it’s universal and well-documented.”

He dragged his fingers across my collarbone, eliciting a trail of goose bumps. “Maybe we should just give in, then. Get it out of our systems so I can actually focus at work, instead of thinking of every way I could rid you of your clothes and make you scream my name.”

My pulse pounded through my head, hot and heady. The temptation was so strong that I trembled a little. “I’m afraid that would most likely end in disaster. I’m guessing you’re not a relationship guy…?”

He pulled back and looked me in the eye. “Not really, no.”

“And I’m not a hookup type girl. I’d like to say I could pull it off without getting attached, especially since I’m only here a little while anyway. But I’ve never managed it yet, and I always tend to be the one who ends up hurt when things fall apart, and it’d make it really hard for me to work with you. Plus, part of coming here was to prove that I am good at this. To get people to see me as more than the boss’s daughter. I’m not sure that having everyone—including myself—wonder if I got this job because I’m sleeping with you is any better.”

“You already have the job, and we’d keep it out of the office, but I can tell you already made up your mind about it.”

I reached up and twisted a strand of hair around my finger. “I’m sure I’ve been sending mixed signals with the flirting, and to be honest, I didn’t mean for half of it to come out, especially the lingerie thing…”

He groaned, and I was close enough to feel it vibrate through his chest.

“But I really did come here to learn from you.” I cleared my throat. “Learn business from you.”

“So you’re saying that we need to stick to the no-touching guidelines?”

I hesitated longer than I should’ve, but then I nodded. “This would be a bad idea.”

“It would definitely be high on the unethical scale, as most fun things seem to be…” He glanced around and seemed to notice we were out in public, in a quite intimate position. He blew out a long breath, slowly straightened, and backed away.

As we returned down the path toward the office building, he reached out like he was going to put his hand on my back again before dropping his hand to his side.

Clearly we both needed to get our thoughts on something besides how we couldn’t touch. Even after my decree, I still missed having his hand there. From here on out, I’d stick with business topics and put a kibosh on the flirting.

“So, congratulations on landing Randall Walker as a client.”

“Couldn’t have done it without you.” He opened the door to the building for me, and I stepped into the lobby, my heels echoing against the tile.

“See, despite my many flaws as a boss, I’m actually really good with clients.”

Jameson pressed the up button for the elevator, his gaze on the light board at the top. “And with marketing stats. That’s why I brought you along. I said that you’d be beneficial. What did you think that meant?”

“That you thought I didn’t know how to land clients.”

He shook his head. “I never thought that once. I do hope not all of them leer at you the way Randall did, but I wouldn’t be surprised.”

I didn’t know how to respond to that, even though warmth filled me at the roundabout compliment. Internally I wished for the elevator to hurry up and get here already because then we could have other people in the way to help cut the sexual tension.

Only we climbed on the elevator and we were the only people. No one got off or on.

I certainly won’t be getting off for a while, at least not with a partner.

Who’s fault is that? I couldn’t tell if that was my body accusing me or my brain hating me, but a whole lot of me was super bitter. Maybe this time I could keep my feelings out of it.

I’m only here for a little while—not long enough to fall in love, really—and then I could tell him all of my darkest desires without worrying I’d run into him in the aisle of the supermarket and feel awkward about it.

Hell, it was still awkward when I ran into Neil, and we’d only had less-than-vanilla, tofu sex.

The loud bing of the doors made me jump.

Jameson’s deep chuckle echoed through the small space, sending a pleasant chill down my spine—and yeah, I know I was going to call him Stone from now on, even in my head, but considering he’d had a sizeable erection pressed against me moments ago, we’d already passed go and racked up about $200 in innuendos.

He swept his arm, gesturing for me to go ahead of him.

Probably so he can stare at my ass.

I shouldn’t enjoy knowing that he was such a fan, and I definitely shouldn’t walk with a little extra oomph in my step. As we neared my desk, I slowed my stride. I knew if I glanced his way, it’d make it harder to stay as strong as I needed to.

Don’t look at him, don’t look at him, don’t look at him…

“By the way,” he said, and then I couldn’t not look at him without seeming rude. “How’d you know the car analogy would work on Walker anyway?”

I liked that he didn’t ask why I thought it would work. I’d taken one look at Randall Walker and knew without a doubt that it would. He screamed the type who flaunted a masculine ego that didn’t quite match his actual masculinity. “Another case of trying too hard, and it actually annoys me a little when I think about why it works so well with guys like him.”

I could see the wheels in Jameson’s brain turning as he tried to come up with why himself. “He’s into status symbols? But I tried mentioning those before.”

“Sure, because that’s only half the equation. I didn’t just use a Cadillac, I compared it to a VW Beetle since people view it as a girly car. An Escalade on the other hand says something like, I might be missing my balls, but I have lots of money and can afford an expensive SUV with cushy leather seats that have the ability to heat your ass when it’s cold.”

He looked at me like I was a puzzle again, only this time, one that highly amused him.

I leaned in and whispered, “You don’t drive a Caddy, do you?” I knew he didn’t. Since men liked to do so much business during their games of golf and putting me on a course with a glorified stick involved an exposition of all the ways I could embarrass myself, my in with the “good old boys club” was cars. I’d peg Jameson Stone as someone who was more into sexy and fast, and the former bad boy edge meant he wouldn’t want anything that’s selling point was safety. Something like a Porsche 918 or the Mercedes-Benz SLR McLaren.

“No, I don’t drive a Caddy.” He leaned closer and kept his voice low. “I assure you I’m not missing my balls, either.”

“I’d say I need to check for myself, but after that moment walking to the office, I’m convinced.”

Jameson muttered a harsh curse and then straightened and raised his voice. “Before you leave for the night, I’d like to see an updated report with the new CTRs and STRs.”

“Sure thing, Mr. Stone.” There. Sticking to the guidelines. Keeping things professional.

A muscle flexed in his jaw and his gaze turned heated. It made my self-control wilt, and now I was questioning my decision to not indulge in some temporary fun once again.

I wasn’t sure how many times I’d rethought everything since putting down our guidelines this morning, but it was a significant amount.

How was I ever going to survive another month of it?

Chapter Eleven

Jameson

Sitting across from Vivienne, I didn’t feel more than a general, mild attraction—certainly not the intoxicating, all-encompassing attraction that pumped through my body whenever Kat was around—and the thought of taking Vivienne home to relieve my sexual frustration no longer appealed to me.

In fact, I was pretty sure that was guilt pressing against my chest, which made no logical sense. Kat made it clear how she felt about crossing lines, and it boiled down to she wasn’t going to. I had a feeling that a few minutes alone, somewhere away from the office, and our off-the-charts chemistry would persuade her otherwise, but that added some messy ethical issues, and I wasn’t one to keep on pushing when a woman said no.

I thought about Kat’s face earlier today in my office when she was giving me a rundown of the weekly reports, the way it’d dropped when she looked at her phone. “Oh, that’s your calendar alert. For your dinner tonight.” Awkwardness crowded the space between us. “Did you, uh, need me to make reservations or anything?” She’d swiped a hand through the air like she wanted to shove that thought away. “I mean, it’s probably too late, and that’s not really what I do. Shit, I just added ‘I mean.’” She stood. “I’m going to go.”

“Kat,” I’d said, even though I didn’t know what I was going to say after that. When she’d looked at me, the only thing I could come up with was: “The way you compiled all the reports together makes it much easier to get a quick snapshot of everything, and the numbers on the ads you switched up are good. Better than good, actually. Best CTRs and STRs I’ve seen in a while. Admittedly, I was struggling to have faith without proof first…” I’d shot her a teasing smile, but she didn’t smile back. “But you certainly proved yourself, and any other changes you want to talk about, I have faith they’ll be good ones.”

“Thank you. Two whole goods—that’s high praise coming from you.” Before I could figure out if that was a slam or a compliment, she’d tucked her hair behind her ear and said, “So I guess if that’s it, I’ll see you on Monday.”

I didn’t want it to be it, and Monday suddenly seemed forever away—evidently I was losing my mind.

“JT?”

I jerked my attention to Vivienne. “Sorry. I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

She stuck her red lips out in a pout and patted my cheek. “That’s why you’d make a shit boyfriend. You never stop thinking about work.”

A statement I couldn’t usually deny, but as of late, a lot of my after-work hours had been spent on my sexy assistant as opposed to what she and I needed to accomplish at the office. I can think of about a dozen different positions we need to accomplish all over the office.

Vivienne pushed away from the table and then came around and stood in front of me. “Good thing you’re amazing in bed, and I’m not silly enough to think of our arrangement as anything more than mutually-beneficial fun.”

I threw a few bills on the table and pushed to my feet. As we walked toward the exit of the restaurant, I put my hand on Vivienne’s back. And felt fucking nothing. No spark of desire, no anticipation, and no soft curves. She was bony and cold, and I wanted curvy and warm.

Am I really going to do this?

“It was nice catching up,” I said, “but I’m afraid I’m going to have to skip the fun. I’ve got to go back to the office and catch up on a few things.”

Apparently I really was. Or wasn’t, depending on how you looked at it. I swear my dick tried to make an argument, but he wasn’t even excited enough to make a compelling one.

Vivienne ran her hands down my lapels. “You could’ve just canceled dinner. Or we could’ve skipped to the after.”

I buttoned the top button of my suit coat. “Maybe next time.” I hailed a cab for her and tucked her inside.

“If you get some time this week, just stop by,” she said. “You already dined me, so I won’t be insulted.”

I wanted to tell her it wasn’t going to happen, but just in case I had a desperate time that called for a desperate measure, I didn’t completely shut it down. She and I had been doing this for the past few years, whenever one of us was unattached.

Well, when she was. I was always unattached.

Says the guy who’s going to go home to an empty house so he doesn’t feel guilty about quasi-cheating on a girlfriend he doesn’t have.

* * *

I’d never spent more time at the gym than I did this past weekend. My muscles ached every time I shifted.

I told myself not to look toward the train door at Kat’s stop, but I couldn’t help it. But she didn’t get on, so she was ahead of or behind me, which meant that much longer until I could see her.

I deserved some kind of reward for surviving the weekend without giving in to the temptation to call Kat and beg her to come over. At one point, I’d even decided to promise we’d stick to our guidelines, but that I just wanted to see her face and hear her voice.

So fucking pathetic, even if it was also true. I missed her face. Her laugh. And my imagination didn’t do justice to her curves, although at least it recalled enough to get the job done when I had to take the edge off. More times than I cared to count.

While working my way up the corporate ladder, I’d made sure to lock away what few emotions I had left after seeing what happened when you let them control your decisions. Caring left you weak and vulnerable. Hope was even worse, and it was far more effective to take control of the situation and leave hope and feelings out of it.

Even I’d taken advantage of how nice my dad was back when he was still alive and doing well financially. I spent those years seeing how much I could get away with. Fast cars, motorcycles, wild parties at the house or out on the boat, and enough tattoos to have a punch card at the shop. A revolving door of girlfriends who were hot but not very bright, and a pregnancy scare that made me more vigilant about protection, even though I’d always been careful.

My dad didn’t approve of my wild lifestyle, but was too fond of the saying “boys will be boys.” It wasn’t until I was almost to leave for college and waste several years there that I pulled my head out of my ass and realized how much I’d hurt my mom.

Dad’s business crashed the next year, things got ugly fast, and Dad had a heart attack before he could pay off the debt collectors, which left my mom and me to deal with bills we didn’t even know existed. I know stress factored into his heart attack, but not even that tragedy kept people from talking about how he’d taken a successful company and drove it into the ground. There were articles.

Mom cried a lot those days, and it tore me up inside. I felt so helpless, and I decided it was time to get my shit together. What started as more of a vengeful career path to prove I could run a more successful business than everyone who bragged about how they could’ve and would’ve saved Dad’s former company—hindsight was twenty-twenty, as they say—turned into something I enjoyed, and more, excelled at.

I’d paid off the debt Dad left us with, attacked my student loans after that, and now I used my success to provide for my mom as well as myself. She told me I spoiled her too much, but I felt like she had five years of hell and barely scraping by to make up for.

I made quick work of the walk from the train into the office and ignored a call I’d have to return later as I crossed the lobby. I stepped into the elevator and caught a whiff of familiar perfume that made my cock stir.

She’s already here.

One week. That was how long it’d been since she stormed into my life and threw everything off. One week of being obsessed with the idea of taking her in this elevator or over my desk or—

The warning bing reminded me that I should get myself under control—sporting a hard-on as I walked into the office was one of those things Business Weekly would most likely advise against.

Business Weekly had obviously never met Kat.

The trail of perfume led to the break room and mixed in with the scent of coffee.

She was talking to Debra, one hip leaned against the counter as she poured coffee into a mug. Nope, those suits at Business Weekly had clearly never seen her in a fucking fuchsia skirt that hugged her ass and hips in a way that made me jealous of fabric.

“Did you want me to pour you a mug, Mr. Stone?” Debra asked.

Obviously Kat hadn’t registered my entrance, but now she straightened and turned, and fuck me she had on a black top that scooped low, with necklaces that settled on the swell of her breasts and dipped into her cleavage.

Now I was jealous of fabric and jewelry.

“Morning, Mr. Stone.” She dumped cream and sweetener into her coffee, lifted her mug, and started past me.

I wanted to reach out and catch her arm—hell, I wanted to do more than that. I wanted to push that skirt up and settle myself between her thighs. Both of those options weren’t actually options in front of Debra, as well as in the office in general.

But while my brain said let her by, my body said block her exit, and my brain definitely wasn’t in control today.

She glanced up, her wide eyes and innocent face making me want to defile her in new and inventive ways.

I couldn’t very well tell her that seeing her made me feel happy about something for the first time in days, and confessing that I missed her over the weekend was also out. “I need to talk to you about a few things I noticed in the reports. Let me just get settled in and—”

“Don’t you have that appointment in fifteen minutes?”

Damn. I forgot about that. My alert should’ve gone off.

Her gaze dropped to my shoulder, her expression carefully neutral. “I peeked at your calendar a few minutes ago, and you’re booked back-to-back today. I’ll do what I can to make sure you stay on schedule, and if you get behind, I’ll make small talk with your clients. As long as that’s okay with you.”

It should be. She could charm all of my clients, and then I would want to murder them all for looking at her. Totally cool. “Of course. When’s my last appointment?”

She kept on stubbornly avoiding eye-contact and I fucking hated it. It made me want to cup her chin and tip her face up to mine so I could peer into those hazel eyes until she gave me something more than this robotic version of her. “Five-thirty, I believe.”

Debra extended a steaming mug toward me. “Wow. She already knows your schedule as well as I do. She’s right. It is five-thirty.”

“Schedule Katrina for my six-thirty slot, then.”

“Katrina better get out of the break room and get to work, then,” Kat said. Something was up, and it frustrated the hell out of me that I couldn’t pull her aside right now and ask her what it was.

But I got the message loud and clear, and let her by. She took the no-touching guideline to the extreme and practically hugged the other side of the doorway, leaving as much space as possible between us.

Yeah, there was no way I was going to be able to wait until six-thirty to pull her aside and find out what the hell was up with her today.

Chapter Twelve

Kat

Sure. Just avoid the guy whose office is mere feet from your desk. The guy who takes up every inch of space whenever he’s near. Great plan, Kat.

In my defense, I came up with it before I’d had caffeine. The blinds on his office window were up, and I tested the bounds of my chair and leaned back until it wobbled enough to give me heart palpitations.

Yes, the chair was the only thing giving me heart palpitations. Not the glimpse of Jameson in his office, every inch of him screaming power and control as he talked to his eleven-thirty appointment—the as common, and unremarkable as his name, Bob Smith.

Debra came wandering over with a brown bag. “Is he still in there? I’ve got Jameson’s lunch from the deli. When he’s done, will you give it to him?”

“Um, actually, I’m going to sneak out to lunch real fast, while he has a break in clients and no one needs entertaining.” I knew I was being ridiculous. I couldn’t avoid him forever—we had a six-thirty meeting, after all. But I couldn’t go in and talk and pretend that I didn’t feel all mixed up about everything Jameson Stone. Knowing he was on a dinner date on Friday night with someone named Vivienne ate at me, a scab I couldn’t stop picking.

I was sure they’d shared more than dinner together, and I experienced overwhelming amounts of jealousy and bitterness toward a woman I’d never meant. Which made no sense, because I had no claim on him. I’d told him that I couldn’t be a hookup girl without getting too attached, but there’d been no hooking up, and yet here I was, experiencing a mix of attached and pissed that he’d gone out to dinner with another woman.

I saw Bob Smith shift forward in his seat, and that was my cue to get the hell out of here. I turned to grab my purse, and when I straightened, my gaze met Jameson’s for one, electrifying second.

“See you after lunch,” I said to Debra, panic pitching my voice higher than usual. I strode across the office, head down, and when I heard people coming, I pushed the elevator’s down button repeatedly, as if that’d make it come fast enough for me to climb on and get away before they reached me.

Where’re the stairs?

Really, Kat? You’re going to huff it down twenty-five flights of stairs in five-inch stilettos and a binding skirt that doesn’t leave much wiggle room? I’d return drenched in sweat, but bonus, my workout for the day would be done.

Unless I fell halfway through my descent and ended up bloody and with broken limbs. Yeah. That’d be my luck.

Of course the elevator arrived at the same time Bob Smith and Jameson did. I assumed that Jameson would simply tell Bob goodbye and go back to his office.

Instead, he climbed on the elevator with us.

“Oh. Debra has your lunch, Mr. Stone. Didn’t you see her?”

Jameson regarded me for a moment. “I feel like something else for lunch, so I’m going to save my sandwich for dinner.”

Wow. We were talking about food, and I still found it hot. Probably because of the way he looked at me when he said he felt like something else for lunch like I was on the menu.

Okay, now you’re getting carried away. Your boss looked at you while he was answering you. Definitely a sign he wants you.

Then again, he had told me that he’d thought of every way he could rid me of my clothes and make me scream his name. I glanced down, wishing for a water bottle to help with the desert that’d taken over my mouth at that thought.

The elevator doors opened and I took a step forward, but Jameson’s arm shot out, barring my exit. He smiled at Mr. Smith. “I’ll be in touch.”

He stared at him until he got the hint and exited the elevator. The doors closed and then it was just the two of us.

Jameson took a step toward me.

I took a step backward.

He advanced another.

My back hit the wall.

Jameson braced his hand next to my head, his body leaning close enough for me to feel the heat coming off it. “What’s going on?”

“I’m trying to go to lunch, but my boss is breaking the rules and touching me.”

“Well, if I’m going to get accused of touching you…” He trailed his free hand up my thigh and dragged his fingertips across the hem of my skirt. Dizziness set in as the temperature in the elevator shot up.

“Jameson…”

He dipped his head, forcing my gaze to his. “Why have you been weird all day, Kat?”

“Eventually someone’s going to call this elevator, you know.”

He didn’t look worried.

I stared at the knot in his silvery-blue tie, thinking it’d help, but even the way it secured his collar to his thick neck was sexy, and the next drag of his fingertips—up the inside of my thigh this time—left my panties damp. “Is it…w-weird to get work done? Because that’s what I’ve been doing all day. And we agreed this was a bad idea, remember?”

He jerked my chin up so that our eyes locked and then ran his thumb across my lower lip, so many tingly sensations in so many places that I could hardly keep track anymore. “You said it was. I would hardly say I agreed.”

My mouth dropped, and a cocky smirk stretched across his face.

The elevator door opened and Jameson remained right where he was—he might not care what people thought about us, but I did.

I quickly dipped under his arm, and he let me go. Naturally, I bumped into the person trying to get on the elevator, because I was super good at life.

Jameson stepped out right behind me, all smooth-like and without knocking into people. “Fine, you win. Now, let’s go grab some lunch.”

Thanks to him getting me all worked up in the elevator, every step only reminded me of all the throbbing places begging for relief. “How is that me winning?”

“Trust me, it’ll feel like a win for both of us.” Jameson nudged me toward the lobby doors. “Now, hurry, or you’ll make me late for my next appointment.”

I shook my head. “This is who I’m supposed to be learning from? A guy who doesn’t understand the meaning of words and has impulse control problems?”

Jameson took a large step so he could pull open the door for me. “You just listed my best two qualities.”

This guy was impossible—no wonder I’d played the What If game all weekend.

What if I’d said yes to getting this out of our systems…?

What if the crash afterward was worth the during…?

What if I told him I wanted to expand on the ways he was going to make me scream his name? I wanted to hear all the deliciously filthy ideas. To have them all laid out in front of me, so I could say I want to try that one.

I had a few ideas of my own as well, even though I’d probably never be able to just lay them out. What if he thought they were too kinky? Then I’d have to face him every day and deal with the fact that he knew my deepest, darkest fantasies.

No thanks.

He placed his hand on my back as we started down the sidewalk, and I shot him a look. “What?” he asked, all false innocence. “I’d guide any woman I was with like this.”

That’s the problem… A problem I needed to remind myself of often, before I started playing the What If game all over again.

But the questions continued to dance along the corners of my mind.

What if he’s into kinky sex? I could be missing my only opportunity to try out things I’d always wanted to try.

God, if he was, I’d finally have the sex life I’d dreamed of.

For anywhere from a week to a month and a half. Sure there was a good chance that I’d be slightly crushed at the end, but to experience amazing sex at least a couple of times in my life, it almost seemed like it’d be worth it.

Almost.

Chapter Thirteen

Jameson

Kat and I slowed near the intersection to wait for the light to change so we could cross the street, and I studied her profile. She didn’t turn her head, but the tension that traveled across her shoulders and the tightening of her jaw made it clear she knew I was looking at her. “You’re upset about my dinner date.”

That made her whip her head toward me. “I… No… Of course not.” I continued to stare until the challenge in my eyes made her nice and uncomfortable. Her shoulders sagged. “How did you…?”

“The ‘that’s the problem’ when I said that I’d guide any woman the same way made it pretty clear.”

“I said that out loud?” Kat dropped her head in her hands, and I snagged her wrists and tugged them away from her face.

“One, I scheduled that dinner at the beginning of the week, and two—”

“It’s not my business, I know.”

“I didn’t sleep with her.” I dragged my thumb over the soft skin on her wrist, wondering if her pulse was beating as fast as mine. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you, and how I’d rather you be seated across from me instead.”

“Oh.” Her eyebrows drew together. “That’s, uh, nice, but you can’t very well just become abstinent while we’re working together.”

I nearly choked on air. Abstinent was the opposite of what I wanted to be while we were working together.

She jerked free of my grasp. “So I’ll try not to let it bother me.”

“There’s another option, the one I’d highly prefer.”

She shook her head. Then her gaze ran up and down me, and she sunk her teeth into her bottom lip, and I could tell she was considering it. I closed the space between us, and she shook her head again and stepped away.

She was driving me crazy. If I were smart, I’d just give up and call Vivienne.

But then she turned to face the street again, and my eyes dropped to her perfect ass. I wanted to pull her closer and push up against it as I wrapped a hand around her slender throat.

I’d start slower, of course, because I didn’t want to scare her away, but eventually…

The light changed, and she charged across the crosswalk, a woman on a mission. I took long strides to keep up with her, and she cast me a sidelong glance when we neared the other side. “Where are we even going?”

“Just a few more steps and we’ll be there—the deli with the blue awning.”

She tilted her head. “I thought you wanted something else for lunch. You have a sandwich from here at the office already.”

“Well, someone told me the ‘something else’ was off the table, so I’m settling for a fucking sandwich.”

She bit back a grin—now she was laughing at the frustration she was causing me. I was going to have to find a creative way to punish her for that. “Mmm, a fucking sandwich,” she said. “Sounds yummy.”

I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and moved my lips next to her ear. “Oh, it’d be delicious. Make no mistake.”

Her chest rose and fell with her rapid breaths, the sun catching her necklaces and adding extra sparkle to her cleavage, like it wasn’t hard enough not to gape at as it was. She relaxed into my side, and her lips parted. She was close to giving in, I could tell.

But since she kept backing away, I decided to back off first this time. I opened the door to the deli for her and ushered her inside.

We ordered and then took our food to one of the outside tables. It was a warm day, so I took off my suit coat and draped it on the back of my chair. I caught Kat giving my sandwich dirty looks as I squirted on some extra mustard.

“Mustard is seriously the grossest,” she said.

Keeping my gaze on her, I grabbed another packet and smothered on some more. Then I took a big bite and made a big show of how much I enjoyed it.

Her shoulders shook with a silent laugh. I felt the glob start to fall, but was too late. I glanced down at the mustard on my white shirt.

Her laughter wasn’t silent anymore, and it drew the attention of everyone around us, people smiling even though they didn’t know why she was laughing. “That’s usually my kind of move.”

I reached for a napkin and dabbed it off the best I could. At least my suit coat would cover it. “This never would’ve happened if we’d done ‘something else’ for lunch.”

“Pretty sure that’d make us hungrier, so then we’d have to eat faster, so the result would probably be the same.”

“The fact that you say that just proves you have no idea what exactly I planned to do to you.”

She crossed her legs, then reached for her drink and took a sip. I could see she wanted to say something but was holding back.

“Just say it.”

“Fine.” She glanced around and then leaned in. “Where exactly were you planning on doing all these things? The side of the street while people watched?”

My mind didn’t reject the idea as strongly as it should.

“An alley? A classy one, I hope.” She leaned even closer, close enough that I could make the different shades of green and brown in her eyes. “Or just a public restroom, with who knows how many germs lurking?”

“Now you’ll never know,” I said because it was more fun to tease her than to say she might have a point. We should avoid the office, and I worried she might take me saying I’d pay for a hotel room for an hour the wrong way, regardless of how nice a hotel—The Four Seasons wasn’t very far from here.

Plus, an hour wasn’t nearly enough time for all the things I wanted to do to her body.

“Did you grow up here?” she asked.

“Talk about a change of subject.”

“I just thought I should…” She shrugged. “I don’t know. Get to know more about you.”

I didn’t know if she wanted that information to convince herself to sleep with me, or not to. But she was easy to talk to, so I figured we could do the get-to-know-you exchange. “I grew up here, yes.”

“Does your family still live here?”

“My mom does, but my dad passed away about a decade ago.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

I swiped a hand through the air, not wanting to go too deep into that subject. Yes I missed him, and yes he was a good guy who people liked, but thinking too much about him brought up conflicted feelings about how he’d left my mom and me in such a huge financial mess, and how he’d basically given up once his company started to sink. That only added to our financial ruin, and every time someone made the connection between him and me, it made it that much harder to prove myself. Or to not punch them in the face if they talked badly about him. Like I said, conflicted.

And now Kat was looking at me with too much pity.

“It was a long time ago. My mom lives outside the city, not too far from my place. I’ve toyed with getting a place in Back Bay or Beacon Hill and living closer to the office, but I worry about her getting too lonely.” Now this line of conversation made me feel like I was revealing too much. I wasn’t very used to talking about myself in terms other than what I could do for a company.

“Aww, that’s nice. I sometimes worry about my dad being too lonely once he retires. My mom’s one of those social butterflies, so she belongs to all these clubs and has a big group of friends. People are just attracted to her.”

“You must get that from her, then.”

Pfft. “I’m hardly a social butterfly, and I tend to scare people away with my awkwardness. Numbers are easier to predict, which is why I like them so much.”

How could she have such a skewed view of herself? Maybe she wasn’t a social butterfly, but she had this contagious happy energy. In general, I didn’t like people, and I especially didn’t like big social gatherings. I could pull out the charm for the clients, but it was exhausting, and I counted down the hours till I could go home and run numbers and look over accounts in solitude.

Kat wiped her hands on a napkin. “I know everyone has a mom, but I can hardly imagine you having one, simply because that would mean you were a kid at some time.”

“You think I just sprang out of a rock, fully grown?”

“Of course not. Out of stone.” Her grin said she was way too proud of the pun.

“Very funny.”

“I thought so.” She took a drink of her soda, her lips wrapping around the straw in a hypnotizing way. “So, what’s your mom like?”

“Worries about me too much, cooks a mean pot roast, and belongs to a book club full of proper old ladies who read very smutty books—something she probably would rather I not tell my employees.”

I meant the last part as a joke, but the way Kat ducked her head and suddenly became super interested in rolling up her straw wrapper made me wonder about her reading preferences. I liked the thought of her curled up reading a steamy novel. She had this intoxicating mix of sweet and innocent while boasting pin-up girl curves made for sinning, and I once again had the thought of unleashing her inner hellcat. Of seeing just how wild she was, and if I couldn’t shake her cage and make her a little wilder.

“Would you like me to ask her if there’s a slot open in her book club?”

“No,” Kat said, too quickly. Then she looked up at me. “Actually, I kind of do.”

“I knew it.”

“You know nothing.”

If I wanted to unleash the hellcat, I needed to play this right. “Tell me, then.”

Her eyes widened—apparently she thought I was going to interrogate her on her late night reading materials. “Oh, I…Yeah, I can’t.”

She blushed a bright red, and while I loved watching her squirm a little, I decided to circle back around to the conversation we’d been having to put her at ease. “So what about you? Did your family always live in Hartford?”

“Yeah. I escaped for a little while to go to college, but other than that, it’s always been Hartford. Don’t get me wrong, I love it there. For as big as it is, it feels like everyone somehow knows my family, and it’s just a lot of pressure to live up to the Taylor name, especially since I wasn’t—gasp—born a boy.” She crossed her forearms on the table in front of her, and my gaze snagged on ample cleavage that showcased why I loved the fact that she wasn’t. “But one of the reasons I want to run the branch, and to do it really, really well, is because Taylor-Made Marketing has been in my family for generations. My great-grandfather founded it.”

Shit. In bringing up her family, I inadvertently remembered why having any kind of relationship with Kat was a bad idea. Once she found out the new direction I was taking the company and that it meant closing the Hartford branch, she was going to hate me.

I should care more about her future loathing, but I told myself that as long as I was clear about this being temporary fun and leaving emotions out of it, there was no reason we couldn’t enjoy some fun between the sheets.

Or against the wall.

Oh yeah, I’m definitely going to take her against the wall sometime.

And if she felt more comfortable with that after we knew more about each other, then I wouldn’t mind knowing more about her anyway…Yeah, it was weak, but when it came to fighting my attraction to her, so was I.

“Passion’s a funny thing, you know?”

“I’m not sure I do.” At the moment it didn’t feel very funny, it felt more like an annoying hurdle, one I should avoid but was probably going to rush toward anyway.

“Sometimes I wonder if people only have so much of it, and it’s either got to go to their career or their family, but not both. Like, you have to decide.”

“I’m not sure that’s the case. People seem to pull it off all the time.”

“Yes, they seem to. From the outside, my family looked perfect, to the point that people constantly commented on it. My parents are so opposite, and come from different worlds, so they have a unique dynamic. My mom supports the business as much as my dad does, but more by being out and about in the community and keeping up appearances. And I know that everyone puts on a bit of a show in public, but they’re completely different people at home, both of them.” Kat snapped out of whatever thoughts she’d drifted into. “I don’t mean to make it sound like… They’re still married…”

Even though she didn’t say the but, I heard it. “But?”

She smoothed her sandwich wrapper out, focusing on the motion. “But they live different lives like seventy-five percent of the time. They even have different bedrooms—he snores, she likes to stay up late. She goes out. He stays in. They get along, and I love them, and I had a great childhood and all that jazz…”

This time I didn’t have to prompt her for the rest.

“I just always hoped that relationships didn’t have to be like that, you know. I always wanted more of a passionate relationship, but maybe that’s just not in the cards for me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing.” She crumpled the wrapper she’d spent so much time flattening. “It’s all future worries because that’s all someday stuff, and I’m not even sure how I started down this rabbit hole. Sorry.”

I wanted to push more and see if she’d expand, but my phone rang. “It’s the office.”

“You’ve got to take it, then. I don’t mind.”

I answered the phone, and Debra told me that my one o’clock was early—of course. I wanted to tell her to make him wait, but she stressed out about having someone waiting in her designated reception area like that meant she wasn’t doing her job.

By the time I hung up—after promising to be there in ten—Kat had cleared the table of our trash. She dipped a napkin in her water cup and then dabbed at the mustard stain on my shirt. I was going to tell her to leave it because it didn’t matter, but in this position, I could see right down her shirt, and I sort of forgot how to speak for a moment.

She reached into her purse and brought out a Tide to Go stick. She dabbed at the fabric and within a few seconds, the only thing left over from my mustard spill was a damp spot.

I pulled on my suit jacket and guided her down the sidewalk with my hand on her back. She didn’t bother with the dirty look this time.

Just before we reached our office building I dropped it, doing my best to honor her wishes.

We rode the elevator up in silence, and as the car slowed to a stop, Kat tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and smiled at me. “Go get ‘em, Tiger.”

“No smack on the ass to go with the pep-talk?” I joked.

But the joke was on me, because she smacked my ass, hard. Then the doors opened and she shot me a saucy look before walking through them.

Chapter Fourteen

Kat

I might’ve slipped a little and flirted earlier today during our shared lunch—I was only human, after all, and Jameson asked for it. So before stepping into his office, I reminded myself that I needed to stick to the guidelines. He certainly wasn’t going to be the one to enforce them, so that left me to do it.

“Your six-thirty is here,” I said, leaning against the doorframe. My voice came out huskier than it was supposed to, but in my defense, Jameson was seated at his desk, his tie loosened, his hair mussed like he’d repeatedly run his fingers through it, and his sleeves rolled up so that several inches of his inked forearms showed.

Damn it, body, we just talked about this. Off-limits!

But also, holy fucking shit. The business attire and tatts combo is crazy hot.

Working to recompose myself, I placed the folder with the report I’d printed out in front of him and then took a seat in the chair across from him.

He picked up the folder and then looked at me instead of it. “Long day, huh?”

“Yeah. I’m counting down the minutes until I can go home, pour myself a glass of wine, and decompress.” I frowned. “Except I just realized that I’m out of wine.”

That was what happened when you had a pity party with a bottle of wine on a Friday night while trying not to think of your superhot boss with some supermodel-esque woman who was all the things I wasn’t.

I bet that bitch had passionate, dirty sex, too. With the lights on, even.

And now I was back to hating someone I didn’t even know for being attracted to a guy who was pretty much impossible not to lust after. Solid logic, brain. You’re really on top of your game today.

“I happen to have a nice collection of wine at my place.”

I looked up at him and got lost in his blue, blue eyes for a couple of seconds. “If only going over to your place wouldn’t cross several ethical boundaries that we’ve agreed upon.”

“You accuse me of not knowing the meaning of words, but I don’t think you know what agree means.” He stood and stretched. “But since you’re opposed to quiet and comfortable, let’s go over these reports on the train. I can’t sit here a minute longer.”

I slowly pushed to my tired, high-heeled feet. “Or we could just go over it tomorrow morning?”

“Grab your stuff, Kat, because your fine ass is going to be on that train, parked right next to me.”

“Jeez. So bossy.”

“Almost like I’m your boss,” he said, a canary-eating grin curving his lips.

I rolled my eyes, then turned and gave myself a mental shake. When I noticed him hovering near my desk, like he thought otherwise I might flee, I didn’t bother trying to be demure about gathering my belongings. I bent to get my purse, aiming that ass he demanded to get on the train his way. If he wanted to play dirty, well I could play dirty.

The harsh swearword sent a swirl of victory through me. Good thing most everyone else had already gone home for the day because he hadn’t even been a little quiet.

It was only when we were steps away from the elevator that I thought he might use our ride down as payback, and the spot between my thighs ached just thinking about him pressing me up against a corner.

But then the last hold-out—one of the design interns—rushed over. He launched into a spiel about how much he enjoyed working here, effectively keeping Jameson occupied during the ride down.

I shot him a smug look, and he gave me one that promised he’d still find a time to pay me back.

On our walk to the train, his hand returned to my back, and I didn’t fight it. I liked the comfort and the security too much, and I was too exhausted to continue fighting every single move he made. If I fought the little things, I’d never have the strength to say no when he started in with his tempting counterpoints of why we should give in to our attraction.

The train ride was pretty uneventful. We went over the reports and noted which accounts looked like they needed some extra work to get the numbers up.

As my stop neared, I started to gather my stuff.

“I can’t in good conscience let you go home to an empty wine-cabinet,” Jameson said, placing a hand on my knee.

“Right. I’m sure it’s your conscience telling you to bring me home, where we could drink a bottle of wine and be alone.”

One corner of his mouth kicked up. “Guilty. But, since you’re opposed to going home with me, I was going to suggest this nice little wine bar at the next stop. I’ll even put you in a cab afterward if you’re too scared to ride alone with me in my car for ten whole minutes.”

The challenge glittered in his clear blue eyes like he knew I’d want to argue that I was absolutely not scared to be alone with him. I was more scared of what I’d do if I was, but I wasn’t telling him that, either.

The train slowed with a squeal of brakes.

“Come on, Kat. Let me at least buy you a drink. We’ll toast to a successful week of working together and unwind a little.”

“You think you can just pull out the silver-tongued devil and I’ll agree?”

His hand circled my thigh and the warmth from his skin seeped into mine. “Call me anything you like, sweetheart, but you’re having that drink with me.”

Save your energy for the big fights, remember? Plus, this was wine we were talking about, and I could really use some unwind time. And, well, if I didn’t bolt toward the now-open door, I wouldn’t make it before the door shut again. “Fine. One drink.”

“Two.”

I sighed, nice and loud, so he’d know he was impossible. Then I lifted my phone like it was a recorder. “Tips from boss: go out drinking on a Monday night.”

His low laugh echoed through my chest. “I’ll give you better tips than that.”

Several minutes later, he pushed to his feet, and with a smirk, said, “This is where we get off.” When I narrowed my eyes at him, he added, “What? I meant for the wine bar. Damn, get your mind out of the gutter, Kat. We work together.”

With a shake of my head, I stood and started toward the aisle, and the train really hit the brakes this time. I reached out for the bar, trying to find something to cling to.

My back bumped into Jameson’s firm front, and he wound an arm around my waist to steady me.

“I always seem to forget how hard the train brakes,” I said, feeling embarrassing heat climbing my neck as a different kind of heat pooled low in my stomach.

Jameson’s five-o’clock shadow scruff brushed my cheek as his low voice invaded my head. “Suddenly I’m a fan.”

I might’ve accidentally sunk deeper into the embrace. Just for a second or two.

Three at the most.

Then I sorted through the haze, found my resolve, and clutched it like a lifeline.

I was pretty sure Jameson’s grip on me was tighter, though.

Chapter Fifteen

Jameson

“That is the biggest frickin’ glass of wine I’ve ever seen in my life,” Kat said as I placed it in front of her.

I settled into the corner booth near the back, where the lights were dim and a wall partially sequestered us from the view of the bar and most everyone else. “Are you already trying to back down from the two drinks we agreed upon?”

She pressed her lips together. “I only agreed on one.”

I gave a what can you do shrug and flashed her my most winning grin, and she shook her head like she couldn’t believe she was letting me get away with it. It made me want to see just how much I could get away with.

An mmm noise escaped her lips as she took a sip of wine. “You sprang for the good stuff.”

“Only the best for my fellow, super sexy employees.”

“I’ll be sure to let everyone at the office know.”

I chuckled and scooted a little closer, draping my arm over the back of her and then sipping my wine. I was more of a scotch guy myself, but I needed to be at the top of my game tonight to make any progress with Kat.

“To working together,” I said, lifting my glass and she tapped hers to mine.

Both of us seemed to be decompressing from the day, shaking off work and the worries of tomorrow. This was the earliest I’d left the office in a long time, but the days when I had non-stop appointments were always more exhausting, and I could do a little more work once I got home.

Kat lifted a couple of fingers to her temple. “Man, I probably should’ve eaten more before going right for the wine.”

“Do you want me to order food?”

She tipped her head one way and then the other. “No. I’ll eat when I get home. I’m not really hungry so much as feeling like this wine is hitting me faster than it should be.”

“Still not getting out of that second drink,” I joked.

“Guess I’ll order a Shirley Temple, then.”

“Works for me. I’m more interested in spending time with you than getting you drunk.” She’d looked tense at the end of the day, the same way I’d felt, and I hoped this was helping her unwind. Just being next to her sent my cares drifting away.

It’d be super relaxing if I wasn’t so innately aware of every inch of her body.

I toyed with the ends of her hair and she sunk back a little farther, closing her eyes for a moment. “What did you mean earlier today when you said that having a passionate relationship wasn’t in the cards for you?”

Her eyes opened, but they were also carefully shuttered. “Nothing. It was stupid.”

“Not buying it. And I think you’re wrong about that. I’ve only known you for a little while, and I can tell you’re a passionate person. You deserve passion.”

She scrunched up her eyebrows and lowered her gaze to the stem of her glass. I could tell her thoughts were swirling, but she wasn’t letting me in. I cupped her chin and gently tipped her face up so I could look into those big hazel eyes. “Talk to me.”

“I’ve had the most boring relationships. Almost zero passion. And I kept thinking it was them, but maybe it’s me. Maybe I just don’t attract that kind of guy.”

“That’s bullshit. Because I’m attracted to you, and you and me, babe…” I let my hand drift down her neck and then traced her collarbone with my fingertips, my blood pumping faster when her eyes fluttered. “We have what they call sparks.”

“I can’t disagree,” she said, her breathy voice encouraging me to continue the drag of my fingertips lower so that they grazed the necklaces that dipped between her breasts. Her nipples hardened, visible through the fabric of her shirt, and they weren’t the only things getting hard. “But sparks aren’t everything. I’ve experienced sparks before, only for them to fail to translate…elsewhere.”

“You mean sex.”

She glanced around and seemed satisfied that we were alone enough to continue our discussion. “Yes. I’ve felt a lot of chemistry with a guy, only to be disappointed in the bedroom. I kept thinking that if I was willing to work on it, it’d get better, but…” She exhaled a long breath and held up a hand. “Whoa. This is definitely crossing a line. I shouldn’t be talking about this with you. Dang delicious wine and its tongue-loosening qualities.”

“It’s too late to backtrack now, so you might as well spill.”

I thought she’d refuse, but then her eyes met mine. “It’s just… So I have certain…”

“Let’s work on those full sentences. You’re holding back again.”

“Exactly.”

I lowered my eyebrows, confusion no doubt showing on my face.

“You know how I have a hard time saying things boldly when it comes to my job?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I’m also like that…in the bedroom. I want to tell the guys I sleep with what I want, but I was never able to actually force out the words. It’s like I need assertive training in the bedroom as well as the boardroom.” A lightbulb went off, the thing practically glowing over her head. Then she brought her hand to her mouth and shook her head. “No.” She tilted her head. “But maybe…No, I’m just thinking it’s a good idea because I’m a little buzzed.”

“I’m already onboard,” I said.

“I didn’t even tell you my idea yet.”

I wrapped my hand around her thigh. “I train you to be as assertive in the bedroom as in the boardroom. Hell yeah, I’m onboard, and I say we get started right away.”

Her eyes widened. “It sounds good in theory, but in reality…” Her gaze dropped to my hand, high on her silky smooth thigh and close to breaching the barrier of her skirt. She bit her lip and squirmed in her seat. “But I’m not sure it’d translate. Sexual attraction and…being in a committed relationship are two very different things.”

“I’m not debating that.” I lowered my lips to the shell of her ear. “But I promise you that our chemistry would transfer to the bedroom. I wouldn’t let you leave until you were very, very satisfied.” I inched my hand higher. “Besides, this is more than sexual attraction. This is sexual obsession. I can’t stop thinking about you naked and underneath me.”

The tiniest whimper escaped her lips as I slid my hand under the fabric of her skirt, my pinky brushing the spot where her inner thigh met the edge of her blessedly tiny panties. “Are you thinking about it now? Should I tell you all the ways I’ve imagined taking you?”

Kat flattened her palms on the table like she needed the support, and I could tell she was working to keep her face from showing how turned-on she was. Well, there were other ways of checking. I cupped her pussy over her panties and ran two fingers up her center.

“You’re soaking wet, gorgeous,” I whispered before nipping at her ear. “You want passion…?” I ran my fingers over her again, more turned-on than I’d ever been, and sure she was about to try to talk sense into me.

Instead, she spread her legs a little farther apart.

“That’s it…Tell me what you want. Tell me how you like to be touched.”

“I…” Her eyes met mine, and I arched an eyebrow.

“It looks like we’re going to have to come up with a point system. You tell me, and you get rewarded.” I slipped a finger into her panties and gave her swollen, wet flesh a swipe, biting back a groan.

I wanted to slide that finger inside her and pump until she came around me. My blood turned to liquid fire, and my dick strained against my zipper.

Focus…

She needs to learn to say what she wants, and I intend to teach her how to.

I withdrew my finger and she shuddered, gripping the edge of the table until her knuckles went white. “No more half sentences, or else.”

“Or else I get punished?” she asked as she batted her eyes, her voice petulant.

Fuck me, this was going to be fun. I gave her my sternest look and nodded.

She squirmed in her seat, rubbing her knees together, and pride flooded me. She was dying for the release, and I couldn’t wait to reward and punish her some more. “But…here? I’m not sure if I could…”

Right. We were in semi-public. Showed how far gone I was that I’d give her an orgasm right here and then have no qualms about taking her over the table. “We could be at my place in ten.”

“Make it seven and we’ve got a deal.”

Chapter Sixteen

Kat

Jameson drove like he was in a NASCAR race, one hand on the steering wheel and one hand on me. His fingers teased and stroked, keeping me in a constant haze.

If I let common sense in I might change my mind, so I’d rather he use his long fingers to keep it far, far away.

“Favorite position?” Jameson asked, his finger pausing an inch shy of where I wanted it.

“I…”

He lifted his hand, and I grabbed onto his wrist with a scratchy, whispered, “No, wait.” He chuckled, and I didn’t even care—I needed him to keep touching me. My heart beat out of control, and my hormones were going even crazier. “I’m not sure. Most of the time I always end up doing plain-old missionary. My first boyfriend always got offended when I said I’d like to try being on top and in control, and another one of the guys I dated was really into doggy style, but I never much cared for it. I’d like to try something a little more exciting, and I’ve always wanted to be taken against a wall.”

“Good girl.” Jameson lowered his hand back over my sex and rewarded me with one slow drag and a circle right over my clit. I arched my hips, chasing his touch—I couldn’t help it. “We’re almost there.”

“I’m almost there.”

Jameson swore and accelerated around a corner—his car was an Equus Bass, and because there were only about three hundred made, they were for a very wealthy few. It was more on the classic side than the cars I’d pegged as his type, but I’d nailed the sexy and sporty part, and if I wasn’t so wildly, desperately turned on, I’d congratulate myself for calling it. We pulled into a garage at a house that I vaguely registered was big and beautiful, but most importantly private. The minute or so apart as we walked into the house left me frustrated even as it fueled my desire.

But it left just enough space in my brain for that pesky common sense to come bursting through.

“Wait,” I said as Jameson reached around me to relock the door leading to the garage, his other hand going to my waist.

He slipped his fingers under the fabric of my shirt and tingles broke out as he dragged them back and forth, back and forth. Then he twisted his wrist so that his fingertips dipped into the waistband of my skirt and skimmed the top of my panties. “Is that really what you want?”

My entire body screeched in protest. “No, but if we’re going to really do this—”

“We are,” he said as he pinned me against the door, his hips bumping mine, his erection pushing against the pulsing bundle of nerves that were screaming at me to not leave them high and dry.

Hell yes, we were doing this. “Okay, but we need to make rules. Rules with punishments,

because you don’t take guidelines seriously.”

He moved his lips to my neck. “More punishments. Mmm.” He licked up the column of my neck and pressed his open mouth to my jaw, and I sagged against the door.

Before he made me forget everything again, I placed a hand on his chest, holding him back. “Are you going to agree to my terms, Mr. Stone?”

“Yes.” He moved to kiss me, and I held him back once more.

“You haven’t even heard them yet.”

He sighed, straightened, and raked a hand through his hair. “Let’s hear them, then.”

“We have to keep things strictly professional at work. Absolutely no touching in the office—it’s a hard rule, one I’m not going to bend on.”

He slid his arms around my waist and palmed my ass, getting a tight grip on each cheek. “If I’m going to agree to that rule, that means that every second we’re not at the office, I’m going to be taking advantage of being able to touch you.”

“I can live with that.” I ran my hands up his arms to his firm shoulders, wanting to do a little touching myself. “And I do want to learn how to get the type of sexual fulfillment I crave out of my relationships in the future…” My face was heating, and I still couldn’t believe it was out there, but it was, so I might as well charge on through. “So don’t hold back. If I need extra…instruction, then I want you to be frank with me. If the way I tell you what I want is offensive or too much, or something I shouldn’t be asking for, you need to let me know.”

“I swear you won’t offend me, there’s no such thing as too much, and you should ask for what you want. It’s one thing if someone decides they’re not comfortable with something, but if they get upset because you are and you asked them for it, they’re not worth your time, and they sure as hell don’t deserve to fuck you.”

I should’ve been slightly offended that he put it that way, but I’d “made love” a few times, and it was dull and unfulfilling. I wanted to be fucked just for the sake of fucking, and the idea revved my heart rate back up to where it’d been a moment ago.

“That’s enough rules,” Jameson said. “We were in the middle of something, and it’s high time we get back to it.” Using his grip on my butt, he hauled me tight against him, and I gasped at the feel of his thickness, hard and ridged and right where I needed it. He crashed his lips to mine, his mouth hot and demanding.

I circled my arms around his neck and threw myself into the kiss. He nudged my lips with his tongue, and I opened up for him. Each sweep left me dizzier and more breathless as he tasted every inch of my mouth like he meant to devour me completely.

He peeled my shirt over my head and dropped it to the ground as his hungry gaze took me in. Every nerve-ending in my body pricked up as he ran his hands up me. He reached behind me, and with a flick of his wrist, undid my bra.

He yanked it down with a growl. “Damn, your tits are even more perfect than I thought they’d be.”

Before I could figure out how to respond to that, he dipped his head and sucked one nipple into his mouth.

I cried out and drove my fingers through his hair.

He circled his tongue and then finished off with a gentle bite that sent a spike of need right down my core.

I reached for the buttons of his shirt, trying to undo them as he lavished my other breast with attention.

Finally, I got the last few buttons free, and holy shit, it almost hurt to look at him. Pecs and ab muscles upon ab muscles. Tattooed arms with ink that dipped and emphasized every defined inch of them. A carved V that disappeared into his suit pants. Pants that did little to conceal his arousal.

Yes, sexy and too much all at the same time. Good thing I was into pleasure and pain.

I yanked his tie free and pushed his shirt off his shoulders so that it fell next to my discarded top. I took advantage of the fact that nothing was in the way anymore and ran my hands across the drool-worthy muscles.

“What do you want, Kat?” he asked, his husky voice half promise, half threat.

“I want to feel your skin on my skin.”

He wrapped his arm around me, his warm chest against mine as he made another devouring sweep of my mouth with his tongue. I dragged my hands down the strong muscles of his back, and when I used my nails, he groaned.

He boosted me into his arms, and when his gaze bored into mine, I saw that his pupils had nearly taken over the blue. “Couch or bed?”

I glanced toward the living room. I wanted to be adventurous, but I also had a feeling we’d need lots of space. “Bed.”

I wrapped my legs around his waist as he walked us across the living room and down the hall, hefting my weight like he didn’t even feel it. He flipped the light on and started for the king-sized bed in the middle of the room.

“But the light?”

He paused, confusion crinkling his brow. “What about it?”

“It’s so bright. We should turn it off. At least for this first time.” Telling him what I wanted was hard enough without extra illumination.

“No,” he said. “I’ve been wanting to see every inch of you since the moment we met, and I plan on seeing every. Single. Inch.” He tossed me on the bed and yanked my skirt down, leaving me in just my panties. They were almost embarrassingly damp already, and thinking about the way he touched me in the restaurant only made me that much wetter.

“I…”

Jameson locked eyes with me and dragged one fingertip down, between my breasts. He rested his hand flat on my lower stomach, rocking the heel of his palm against me and eliciting a needy whimper. “Do I need to punish you?”

“No. Please, no.”

“You better tell me what you want, then. What do you want, Kat? You want my tongue on you?”

“Yes. God, yes.”

“Where exactly do you want it?” He lowered his head and licked the spot just under my breasts. “Here?” He licked my belly button and I arched my hips, trying to get friction where I needed it. “Here?” He dragged his tongue across the top of my lacy panties. Then he looked at me and waited, a predatory gleam in his eyes.

“I want it on me.”

One eyebrow slowly cocked up. “On you…?”

“I want your mouth on…” I couldn’t believe I was going to just say it, but I couldn’t take it any longer. “I want your tongue on my clit, and I want you to flick it with your tongue until I come.”

True to his word, he rewarded me by tugging down my panties and replacing them with his tongue. He groaned, the vibrations traveling across my skin and turning me on even more. One delicious sensation after another shivered through me, almost too much to take and yet I wanted more.

I was going to ask for him to slide a finger in me, but that would be too greedy, right? Tongue and finger?

“Mmm, you taste good.” His eyes met mine as he gave me another long slow lick. My head rolled back on the pillow and I clenched handfuls of the bedspread.

Never mind. The tongue is enough.

But then he parted my wet lips with his fingers and slipped one inside of me, sending the blissful sensations coursing through me to a whole new level. “One or two?” he asked, then he added another finger and I thought I was going to explode from the amount of pleasure flooding my body.

“Better answer, Kat. It’d be a shame to have to punish you when you’re so close.”

“Two. Definitely two.”

He thrust his fingers inside of me again, curling them and hitting a spot that I didn’t know I had, but definitely wanted to become better acquainted with. He placed his mouth over me as he continued pumping his fingers, and I could feel the orgasm coming, starting from my toes and traveling up my body and…

“Jameson.” I tumbled over the edge with his name on my lips and my fingers in his hair. He eked out every ounce of pleasure, not stopping until I was completely boneless.

It took me a few minutes to realize he was still wearing pants, which was completely unacceptable. I sat up and fumbled with his belt for a moment before finally getting it undone.

He groaned as I freed him from the tight fabric. I cupped him over his boxers and he arched into my touch. Then I pushed them down.

And stared.

I was no expert, and I’d only seen a handful of penises in my life, but his…? It was big and smooth and so incredibly hard and I wanted it inside me with a fierceness that surprised me.

But then I had one stupid downer second where I wondered if this was going to end like my other sexual encounters.

It’d been so good already, though, that it’d still be a win. Like I said, I didn’t want to be greedy.

“Kat?” he said, drawing my attention up, and I noticed he had a condom wrapper in his hand. “Thoughts?”

“I like it. I want it in me.” Whoa. That just burst right out there.

Jameson gave a low laugh as he rolled on the condom. “That’s good to hear because that’s definitely in the plans. I’m going to bury myself in your slick heat again, and again…” He stroked a hand down his shaft and my blood turned to liquid fire. “And again. But I meant against the wall or with you on top? Which do we start with first?”

“Oh, it’s okay. We already did me, so—”

He yanked me off the bed, my body bumping into his. Then he smacked my ass, the slap loud in the silence. “Which one?”

I still had my heels on—we sort of forgot to take them off, I guess—but it left me lined up perfectly with him. “Against the wall.”

His eyes darkened as he walked me back against the nearest wall and my rapid pulse hammered through my head. He kissed me, his tongue tracing the seam of my lips before he thrust it inside.

His erection nudged my wet, ready entrance.

“I need you inside me,” I said. “I need it now.”

He gripped the base of his shaft and pushed inside of me, stretching and filling me in ways I’d only dreamed of. After giving me a second to bask in the feel of him, he slowly withdrew, and I whimpered at the absence.

Jameson traced his thumb across my lower lip. “Don’t worry, gorgeous. We’re just getting started.” His hips smacked into mine as he thrust deeper and deeper, and flashes of light flickered across my eyes.

“I’m not quite…” I almost didn’t finish, but then I knew he’d punish me, and I’d spontaneously combust from the frustration. “At the right angle,” I quickly added.

“You want deeper?”

I nodded. “And harder.”

A carnal smile curved his mouth. He grabbed my thigh and pulled my leg up over his hip. I cried out as he moved even deeper inside me, then gripped his biceps for balance as the head of his penis found that glorious spot his fingers had.

“Right there,” I said on a breath. Sweat formed on his brow, and my body felt damp with it. Our skin slipped against each other as more heat built between us. I’d never reached the sweaty sex stage before, and now I knew I was going to be ruined for anything else.

Ruined for anyone else, probably, but I tried not to dwell on it.

Fortunately, the cresting waves of euphoria took all that away. I’d never been able to come through just sex, but I felt another orgasm building.

I dug my fingernails into the skin of his arms and he recaptured my lips, his tongue mimicking the movement of his body. He wound his fingers in my hair and then twisted my head so his lips were next to my ear. “I wanna feel you come while I’m buried deep inside of you.” He licked down my neck and then sunk his teeth into the skin where it met my shoulder.

My inner muscles clenched around him, causing even more delicious friction.

“That’s it. Come for me, Kat.” He thrust in so deep that I wasn’t sure where I ended and he began, and the orgasm rocketed through me, a euphoric high claiming my body as I shuddered against him.

With a growl, he gripped my hips and pumped into me a couple more times. Then his muscles tensed as he found his own release. His ragged breath stirred my hair and he released his grip on my thigh. He braced both hands against the wall, one on either side of me, and slowly ran his gaze down my body, like he was memorizing every inch.

My insecurities popped up, making me want to cover myself.

“Do you have any idea how fucking sexy you are?” His eyes met mine, hazy and brimming with desire, and my insecurities faded away.

I smiled, my heart fluttering in my chest. “Right back at you. And that, against the wall like that…it was amazing. I’ve never been able to get there through sex before. Suffice it to say, I think this first lesson went rather well.”

He curled his hand around the back of my neck. “Rather well?”

“Mind-blowingly well,” I corrected, and it was true and then some. I ran my hand down his chest and settled it over the spot where his heart beat as hard as mine, in awe that I got to do that now. While we were alone, of course. For a little over a month, anyway. “I’m already looking forward to lesson two. As long as you…?”

He lowered his mouth to mine and gave me a long, drugging kiss. “Oh, there’s definitely going to be a lesson two.”

Chapter Seventeen

Kat

I know I was the one who made the no-touching at work rule, but I didn’t realize it’d be so hard for me to follow.

Now that I knew what it felt like to have Jameson’s hands on me, to have his body pressed against mine, touching was all I could think about.

We were supposed to have another “lesson” on Wednesday night, but a last-minute work emergency had come up, and Jameson ended up having to stay at the office until late with the design team.

Judging from the exhausted faces and low morale that greeted me Thursday morning, it hadn’t gone so well.

I noticed Jameson was already in his office, so I knocked on the door and poked my head inside. “Anything I can do?”

“Depends on how stingy you’re going to be about your touching rule,” he said.

I closed the door and leaned against it. “My no-touching rule will be strictly enforced, Mr. Stone.”

“Guess I’ll have to settle for using my X-ray vision.” He leaned back in his chair, tapped a finger to his temple as he squinted his eyes, like that unleashed his superpowers, and looked me up and down. “Just as I thought. You really are as sexy as I remembered. Turn around so I can get the back.”

I was about to argue, but the heated look he gave me had me spinning around and offering him my backside. I glanced over my shoulder at him as he homed in on my ass—why yes, I had worn my tightest skirt today.

“Those are some sexy panties. I can’t wait until they’re on the floor of my bedroom later tonight.”

“That’s interesting.” I turned around and gave him my most innocent expression as I batted my eyes. “Because I’m not wearing any panties.”

He groaned and ran a hand over his face. Then he stood and came around the front of his desk. My heart hammered against my rib cage, my flight response instinctively kicking in, even though what I really wanted was for him to catch me and have his wicked way with me. “Get your ass over here right—”

The knock on the door made me jump.

“Fuck.” Jameson blew out his breath, ran a hand through his hair, and then dropped back into his chair and barked, “Come in.”

David stepped into the room. He did a double take when he saw me standing a few feet away. When it came to people who disliked me at the office, David was slightly warmer than Rob, but it was a hesitant lukewarm. And since Jameson had told him to send me reports on all of our most recent acquisitions so I could find where they could be improved, let’s just say he wasn’t joining my rather barren fan club anytime soon. Especially since I’d found marketing items that needed addressed in every account I’d been through.

“I’ll leave you guys to it.” I paused at the doorway. “And I’ll make sure to schedule that meeting you talked about for you, Mr. Stone.”

Since I worried my lack of a poker face would give me away, I exited the office without looking back. But I didn’t have to look to know Jameson’s eyes were on my ass.

* * *

Jameson extended a hand and helped me out of his car. He closed the door, spun me around, and pressed me against it like he might cuff me and take me down to the station.

The cuffing I could handle, but taking me down to the station would take too long—I was already turned on from the hours of verbal foreplay we’d had at the office.

I’d purposely dropped a paper-filled folder in front of him and took my sweet time bending down to gather it up. He’d squatted down under the guise of helping me pick up the papers, telling me under his breath all the sordid things he planned on doing to my body. While riding the elevator down, I’d flashed him a coquettish smile and tugged my skirt several inches up my thigh, then went ahead and took it a step further by making a unh sex noise in his ear. His hands curled into fists, every muscle in his body tensed, while the people in front of us stood there, unaware.

Now his erection nestled perfectly against the seam of my ass, and his other hand came up on my neck, his fingers spread so that he hit one pulse point with his index finger and the other with his thumb. He squeezed, just enough to leave me slightly dizzy. “I’m going to have to punish you for making me wait so long to touch you. Now spread ‘em.” He kicked my feet wider apart. I was already growing wet from his pat down and we hadn’t even gotten to the patting part yet.

He bent low and then ran his hands up the inside of my legs, torturously slow, until he reached the apex of my thighs. “You really aren’t wearing any panties, you naughty minx.” His fingertips grazed my folds, and I gasped and braced myself harder against the car.

“I’ve been thinking about your tight pussy all day. And about your perfect ass.” He bit one cheek and more moisture pooled between my thighs. I squirmed, wanting more, needing more.

“You can touch me now. Please touch me now.”

“I would, but what kind of a punishment would that be?” He straightened, and I made a small whimper in protest.

He covered my body with his. “Plus, I’ve wanted my hard dick against your ass all day.” He ground against me and I pushed back, pulling a satisfactory ragged-sounding groan from him. His hand returned to my neck, holding me tighter to him as he ground against me again.

His free hand worked at the buttons of my shirt, popping each one open. When my bra was exposed, he stopped to pinch my nipples through the lace, exquisite sensations streaking through my core with each pinch and flick. Then he yanked my shirt off and instructed me to put my hands back on the car.

I obeyed, hoping I’d be rewarded for it.

“Good girl.” He yanked up my skirt, and I waited to see what move he’d make next, the anticipation nearly killing me. I heard his belt buckle jingle and hit the floor, a rustle of clothing following, and then I felt his bare cock press against my ass.

Wrapping an arm around my breasts, he hauled my back against his firm front, and then he reached around my hip and dipped his fingers lower, lower…right where I needed them.

“Okay, time for you to take over and tell me what you want.” He nipped at my ear. “For a little while, anyway, and then it’ll be my turn to take control.”

“Just keep touching me,” I said. “Don’t stop, whatever you do.”

I rolled my hips with the circling of his fingers.

“You want me to take you inside? Or are you a dirty girl who wants me to finish you off here in the garage?”

“I like it dirty. Here. Now. Just…” My breaths came faster and faster, and I might be embarrassed of the way I reached down to hold his hand in place as I rocked against it if it didn’t feel so amazing. “Yes, yes, yes.”

I shattered against him and he wrapped his arm tighter around me, keeping me from falling when my knees turned to water. He peppered kisses over my cheek and jawline as I worked to catch my breath. Then he spun me around and slanted his mouth over mine, kissing me with reckless abandon.

“Ready for part two?” he asked, and I nodded. He nudged me toward the door of the garage, and then he scooped down and retrieved his tie. “We’re going to need this.”

Chapter Eighteen

Jameson

I hardly knew where to start. Kat’s hair spilled down around her shoulders in loose waves, her lips were swollen from my kisses and her eyes were glazed over, a lazy, satisfied smile on her face.

She had too many clothes on—that was where I’d start. I pulled her close and kissed her as I reached around and undid her lacy red bra. With her breasts free, it seemed inconsiderate not to pay them a little attention. I bent down and sucked one into my mouth, and she dragged her fingernails over the top of my head, sending tingles across my scalp.

I reached over and pinched the other one, enjoying the tormented noise it pulled from her throat. Then I tugged down her skirt so that she was as naked as I was—well, save the shoes, but those fuck-me heels were staying on. As I stood, I ran my hand up her smooth leg. “Have you ever been tied up?” I asked, and she shyly shook her head.

“But I’ve always wanted to try it.”

What little blood I had left in my body headed south. “Lie back on the bed.”

She did as I instructed and I grabbed her arms and pulled them up over her head. I bound her wrists together and secured them to the headboard. I looked her over and decided she should always be naked and sprawled out beneath me.

I put on a condom and then settled myself between her thighs, another thing that should always be happening.

I pushed inside of her, growing harder at her moan. I found a good rhythm, one that made her tits bounce with every thrust. She strained against the tie and I cupped her chin and forced her gaze to mine. “Are you trying to get free?”

“No. Yes.” She wiggled again, and it brought me closer than I wanted to be to the finish line. “I want to touch you.”

Black dots encroached on my vision—she was so tight and so wet that another thread of control unraveled. “We have rules about touching.”

“We’re not at work!”

“Okay, I’ll let you free, if…” I hesitated, not wanting to take this too far if she wasn’t into it, but wanting to push the boundaries. She’d had enough boring sex in her life, and the way she responded so easily to every touch, every word, made it clear she’d been denied for way too long.

And while I’d hate to deny anyone good sex, admittedly I was glad that I got to be the one to show her how incredible it could be. “If I get to hold you down other ways.” I wrapped a hand around her neck, applying gentle pressure, and she arched her hips, meeting me as I pushed into her.

“Never mind,” she said, her voice raspier than usual. “I’m digging the delicious torture of being bound by you. Squeeze me tighter.”

Fuck, but the woman was perfect. I tightened my grip, feeling her pulse hammering away underneath my fingertips, and let a little more of my weight press her against the mattress.

“I’ll just…” She wrapped her legs around my waist and let out a low hum of pleasure. Her heels dug into the top of my ass, sending a biting, intoxicating jolt through me, and I pushed deeper inside her, earning a cry that she bit off early.

“Let’s hear it, gorgeous. No holding back or I’ll have to find new inventive ways to drag your cries out of you.”

With a loud moan, she arched off the bed, meeting my hips as I brought them down. I reached up and ran a hand down her bound arms, pleasure going through me at the trail of goosebumps that followed, then pressed the pad of my thumb against her lower lip.

She sucked it into her mouth, and I bucked, nearly losing it.

I felt her muscles tense, her tight channel squeezing my cock as she came with a loud, uninhibited cry. I held on for a few more thrusts, making sure to draw out every last drop of pleasure before letting go of my control.

My orgasm went on and on, ripping through me with enough force that the room spun.

As soon as the spinning stopped, I reached up and untied her wrists. I took her hands in mine, massaging the blood back into them.

“That…” She blew out her breath. “Was intense. Like mind-blowing, room spinning intense.”

Pride filled me that I’d shaken her world as much as she’d shaken mine. “Couldn’t have said it better myself.” I lifted her hand to mine, kissed the back of it, and rolled off her. As soon as I discarded the condom, I laid next to her and ran my hand over the slope of her hip as I stared into her sated features.

She scooted closer, her soft curves pressing into me as she rested her head on my shoulder and placed her hand over my still rapidly-beating heart.

We stayed like that for several minutes, and then she reached up and ran her fingertips over my jaw. “So, I meant to ask you how things went with the sporting goods account today, but I was so focused on holding myself back from jumping your bones at the office—and then on the train—that there wasn’t really room for any other thoughts.”

I covered her hand with mine. “Next time I say we just give the other passengers a show.”

“Well, then we’d probably get banned from riding the train, and I only have to deal with the commute a month or so, but you’d be forced to drive in that horrible morning traffic to work. Not sure you’d think it was worth it.”

“I think you underestimate what it’s like to have sex with you.”

She smiled, biting her lip and I reached up and brushed her hair off her face, letting my fingers trail down her neck and across her collarbone.

“As for the sporting goods account…” The reality of that situation slammed into me. Thanks to the fact that I was constantly preoccupied with thoughts of bending Kat over my desk, or her desk—or any desk—I’d let a few things slide that I was usually diligent about checking. I should’ve caught that Lone Star Sporting Goods was unhappy sooner. I could point a finger at David and say he should’ve told me—and he fucking should’ve—but that was why I oversaw everything. So things like this wouldn’t happen. “I’m going to have to fly to Dallas tomorrow and do damage control.”

Kat stuck her lips out in a pout. “How long will you be gone? Because waiting two days between sex lessons was torture, and about two days more than I’m willing to go again.”

“You’re saying I’ve turned you into a sex fiend?”

She reached out and squeezed my pecs in a move I translated to mean I like this part right here, which made all the bench presses and push-ups worth it. “I’m saying I already was one. I just didn’t have anyone to help me scratch the itch.”

I tugged her closer and bit her shoulder. “Happy to be your itch scratcher.”

“Right, but if you’re not going to be around, I might just have to find another—”

I rolled over her, pinning her to the mattress. “Don’t you dare finish that sentence, or I’ll make your punishment tonight look like a walk in the fucking park.”

Her pupils dilated, and my chest rose and fell with rapid breaths. This was supposed to just be a temporary, no-strings arrangement, but the thought of another guy touching her sent toxic jealousy through my gut. It felt very, very serious, and I’d seriously hunt the guy down and make sure he never touched her again.

I reached between us and covered her pussy with my hand. “This is mine while you’re here in Boston, you hear me?”

She nodded.

I curled my middle finger inside of her, growing hard again at the feel of her tight, wet cunt. “Say it.”

She exhaled a shaky breath. “It’s yours.”

Satisfaction replaced the jealousy. She was mine, at least for a little while, and just so she didn’t forget it, I teased and stroked her until she begged for release.

And after she’d tumbled over the edge, I slipped inside of her and claimed her as mine all over again.

Chapter Nineteen

Kat

I liked the way Jameson watched me dress, his eyes tracking me as I bent and shimmied and slipped things over my head. It made me feel sexy in a way I’d never felt before. I wanted to stay curled up next to him in bed, but I knew he wasn’t a relationship guy, and that I shouldn’t let myself think about things like sleeping next to him in that big comfy bed.

He cared enough to demand that I didn’t see any other guys while I was here, and that was at least something. I always thought I’d like my sex a little on the rougher side, but I didn’t expect to be so gratified by being dominated. I didn’t know that submitting could help me feel in control. And I wanted to do it again and again and again.

“So, two days?” I asked as I reached for my purse.

“Three at most,” he said.

“What do you want me to do while you’re gone—besides not other dudes.”

He sat up, his jaw tight. “Kat, I swear to God, if you keep talking about other dudes…”

“But I was talking about not doing them—it was a joke.” I walked over, leaned across the bed, and kissed him. “You know. Those things that make people laugh?”

He slipped his hand into my hair and cupped the back of my head. “Do I look like I’m fucking laughing?”

“Wait. What about women?”

“Holy shit, woman. You really are insatiable.”

I realized he thought I meant—“No, not me having sex with women. What I mean is…Well, if I’m yours while I’m here, you better be mine.”

Now that it was out there, my lungs squeezed, and I was scared he’d say that was too much to ask. Then I’d have to get all pissed off and stop having sex with him because double standards were not cool.

Jameson guided my lips toward his and kissed me. “Deal.”

“And being in another town for a few days does not give you a loophole. Just saying.”

I felt his grin against my lips. “No loopholes. For the next month, I’m a rule-following boy scout type.”

“I’ll believe that when I see it.”

“Back to your original question, can you run the meeting tomorrow? I already had to push it back this week, and I don’t want everyone at the office to slack off. They work harder when they know someone will be holding them accountable. Plus, it’ll be a good chance to put your newly acquired boss skills to practice.”

The thought of running a meeting was a little intimidating. I didn’t think everyone would take me seriously if Jameson wasn’t there backing me up, but it wasn’t like I’d have him by my side forever. I was here to learn to be a bolder, better boss. “Yeah. I’ll run it and email you the notes.”

“Remember. State things, no backing down, no apologizing. You’re the boss—for a day, anyway.” He smacked my ass. “Go get ‘em, tiger.”

* * *

I thought this would be easier somehow. That since I wouldn’t have to deal with whether or not these people liked me for more than a handful of weeks that I could be bold. I’d state my opinion and I wouldn’t back down.

It was harder to break the habit than I hoped it’d be, though, especially with the substitute teacher vibe going on in the office today. Everyone was lax, their postures and moods already morphing into weekend mode, and there were several side conversations currently going on while I struggled to keep the meeting on track.

Rob had just told me that since Jameson wasn’t here, he hadn’t brought the new—and hopefully final mockups—despite the email I sent saying everyone needed to come to the meeting prepared, the one he claimed he didn’t see. And I’d almost told him it was okay and just moved on to the next department.

But I realized this was one of those moments that made me seem like a pushover, so I bit back the “Okay, then just get it to me later” response. “I find it hard to believe that you thought we’d just sit here and twiddle our thumbs during the meeting.”

Was that too mean? Do people say twiddle our thumbs anymore?

Focus, Kat. State things. No taking it back. “I want the final file in my inbox for approval by two, and it better be impressive.”

“That might be tricky because I have a lunch sched—”

“In my inbox by two,” I said, my words sharp, my best deadly expression on my face. “Impress me. Or I’ll find someone else who will.”

Shit, I didn’t even have the ability to fire him, so that was way too far, but he nodded. “I’ll have it to you by two.”

“Perfect.” I looked to the next person—Accounts Manager David. “I hope you’ve come prepared.”

He nodded, a hint of fear in his eyes. I’d like to say I was above enjoying the fear, but it felt like success. Of course, his fear probably had more to do with the fact that he’d already screwed up on the Sporting Goods account and was the reason Jameson had to fly to Texas to try to fix it, but I was going to put it in the win column anyway.

The rest of the afternoon went pretty smoothly, and as the day was winding down, I dialed up Jameson to give him a recap of the meeting and everything else that’d happened.

I prepared myself for the way his rich, deep voice would travel right down my core and cause a delicious ache to settle between my thighs. I remembered the way he’d grabbed me there and told me it was his, a predatory gleam in his eye, and the ache turned pulsing need.

One day, and I was already craving my next release. How was I going to make it another one or two?

I was trying to focus on only the sexual aspect of what I missed with Jameson gone, because thinking about how easily our conversations flowed, or how he brought out my confident side would lead to visions of becoming more. And I knew he wouldn’t want that, and I was leaving, and yep, the bittersweet longing was trying to rise up and ruin everything.

Disappointment pinged through me when I got his voicemail.

Keeping to our work guidelines, I kept it professional, offering a greeting and then giving him the rundown. As I detailed the meeting and my little win during it, I relaxed into the one-way conversation, talking like Jameson was seated opposite me.

“Oh, and Rob implemented all of the changes we’ve been working on to un-revamp the ad campaign. I saw the final and think it’s good to go. I got approval from the client, and they’re sold, so you just need to sign off on it. Or just tell me I can and CC Rob, so he believes it.

“Anyway, that’s pretty much the CliffsNotes version of today. Rest assured that I can handle it, although obviously you’re missed here.” A tempting, bad idea popped into my head, and I glanced around to make sure no one was in hearing range. Then I lowered my voice and did my best phone-sex-operator impression. “Also, I miss your big, thick cock.”

My cheeks heated, but along with a hint of embarrassment at actually saying that, another kind of heat formed, excited and wild and having no desire to be tamed whatsoever.

“For every day that you’re gone, I’m going to get that much hornier, and I can’t be held responsible for what abuse your body might take because of it. You’ve been warned…”

The robotic voice told me to press one if I was satisfied with my message and number three to try again.

It’s super unprofessional…

But it’s also super bold, and isn’t this entire thing about learning to be bold?

Okay, so maybe it’s supposed to be more about public speaker bold than owning my sexuality…

I drummed my fingernails on the desk, debating for a couple of seconds, then I made my decision…

Chapter Twenty

Jameson

The situation was worse than I’d expected, and I knew I wasn’t going to be catching a plane tonight, and probably not tomorrow, either. Even if I worked non-stop, the rest of the employees—both the ones here, and back in Boston—were getting ready to leave for the weekend, and my client was pissed enough that I didn’t dare turn down his golfing invite for tomorrow morning. He’d left me with Doug, his “Number Two Guy,” to hash out details, and while we played eighteen holes, I was expected to tell him all the ways I was going to fix the mess. It definitely wasn’t how I’d choose to spend my weekend.

A certain auburn-haired employee flashed to mind, and there was no question I’d rather spend my weekend fitting in as many foreplay and sex lessons as possible. That alone made me glad I’d said yes to having her work for me, but after only two weeks as my assistant, not having her by my side made me realize how much she’d done in such little time. I kept wanting to call her into my makeshift office, even if it just meant bouncing ideas off her.

But it was a bad idea to get used to that, and I was fully capable of running an account myself. Look what happened when I’d left it in someone else’s hands for a little while.

The receptionist, an older grandmotherly type, knocked on the open door as she stepped into the room. “You two skipped lunch, and it’s nearing dinner time, so I decided to have food delivered before taking off.”

“Thank you,” I said, and the dude across from me mumbled something similar.

She set the bag on the table and then dug out the to-go container and utensils, and the scent of the food made my stomach rumble. She informed us that she’d be refilling the coffee station on the other side of the room, but not to mind her, she’d be out of our hair in a few minutes.

My emails and voicemails had been adding up, and I scrolled through my notifications, trying to decide what to tackle while I shoved down dinner.

I saw a voicemail from Kat and decided if anything could turnaround my bad mood, it’d be hearing her voice.

She addressed me as Mr. Stone in an uber-professional voice and launched into a recap of the weekly reports—her voice was still sexy as hell, but I didn’t want to think about reports right now.

I opened the to-go box to find a beef brisket sandwich coated in barbecue sauce, so I tapped the speaker icon on my phone’s screen and picked up my dinner.

Kat told me that Rob had come to the meeting unprepared and I gripped my sandwich tighter, irritated at him for pulling that shit. Then I smiled when she said she’d used a page from my playbook and demanded it be in her inbox by two.

“I kinda implied I could fire him, so if he asks, could you pretend I could?” She laughed, and I pictured her sitting at her desk—no, make it standing so that her perfect ass was in my line of sight.

My heart hammered harder, and I took another bite of my sandwich, trying to hold it together as all the fillings started to spill out the other end.

“Also, I miss your big, thick cock.”

I choked on my food, then quickly abandoned my attempt to keep my sandwich together and dived for my phone.

The receptionist’s wide eyes made it clear that she’d heard. It took me two tries to turn off the speaker, and I cursed myself for being stupid enough to use it. But among the stupid was a mix of pride and desire, and that side overtook everything when I heard the rest of her message.

For every day that you’re gone, I’m going to get that much hornier, and I can’t be held responsible for what abuse your body might take because of it. You’ve been warned…

Fuck fixing things here. I was going to speed to the airport, fly back to Boston and give Kat exactly what she asked for.

I kept the message so I could listen to it later, when I didn’t have an audience. I glanced at Doug and the receptionist, trying to figure out how to apologize or explain since the air was nice and awkward.

I cleared my throat. “I’m sorry you overheard what was clearly supposed to be a private message between myself and an associate who’s filling in for me while I’m gone.” There. Mostly true, and it sounded a hell of a lot better than I’m fucking my assistant, but don’t worry, she asked for lessons on how to be more assertive when it came to her sexual desires, so it’s all good. “I assure you I pride myself on being professional, and it won’t happen again.”

The woman pressed her lips together, a judgmental pinch to her features. “Sounds like you’re playing with fire to me.”

Hell yeah, I was, and I liked the way it burned. The ornery side of me—the one that used to rule my teenage and early twenties—wanted to point out that if anyone had done any harassing, it was Kat, so she should be giving the condemning look to her.

With one final scowl, the receptionist beat a hasty exit. Clearly she’d made up her mind about me, and she looked the type to report to human resources. It wasn’t like I worked for LoneStar, but it wouldn’t be good for my currently-stellar reputation for this kind of thing to get spread around.

I was weeks away from a big move with the company that would cement my position and turn around the way people discussed the Stone name, and something like that could ruin everything and leave the company looking for a new CEO to step in and reap the benefits of my hard work. No redeeming my dad’s mistakes and proving myself separate from him, and I’d have to start over.

“I hope you’re not stupid enough to be sleeping with one of your employees,” Doug said, finally speaking up instead of giving one of the noncommittal shrugs he’d given me all afternoon.

I worked to hide the way my muscles tensed. It’s not like I didn’t know it was a bad idea, and slightly unethical, but we had a mutually agreed upon arrangement. “None of your business.”

“True.” Doug sat forward in his chair. “But hear me out…One of my business school buddies just got finished with an ugly lawsuit because he was involved with a female employee who worked under him. He claims it was mutual, and I believe him, but when their relationship fell apart, she filed a sexual harassment lawsuit, and now he’s out thousands of dollars and a job. No one will touch him.”

Worry rose up and bound my lungs, even as I told myself that my situation with Kat was different.

Kat would never file a complaint or lawsuit out of spite.

Would she?

I didn’t think she was the vengeful or even spiteful type, but say she got super pissed off when she found out that I was dissolving her father’s branch of the company and outsourcing the marketing to save Craze a ton of money…

Fuck. I didn’t even get to properly enjoy that message before reality had to come creeping in.

I prided myself on leaving emotions out of business decisions and on my iron self-control, but every time I was around Kat, all I wanted to do was grab her and bury myself between her thighs. I wanted to eek out every ounce of pleasure and tease, punish, and reward her again and again.

And even worse, I felt myself softening around her. Found myself thinking more and more about her when I should be focused on work, and there’d been a few stray thoughts about trying to find another way to do what I needed to without shutting down the Hartford branch, even though I knew it was the best, most fiscally-sound option.

It was probably a good thing I had so much to do here in Texas, because I needed a few days to clear my head before I went off half-cocked and did something that would ruin years of hard work. Like put my position as CEO in jeopardy, and have all the naysayers rushing to say that they always knew I would turn out just like my old man.

Chapter Twenty-One

Kat

I’m not sure why I’m even thinking of buying lingerie for a guy who doesn’t even return a dirty voicemail.

He’d sent two emails over the weekend, one to both me and Rob, granting me final ad approval, and another that simply said: The reports look great. Thanks for taking care of the meeting on Friday.

Like, really? I tell him I miss his dick and then he decides to go and turn into one?

The hangers made a screeching noise as I pushed them along the racks. I was about to leave, sure I was too crabby for this trip I’d planned pre-dickish-radio-silence, but then I saw it.

Red and lacy, a bustier that had a tiny matching thong with those little strappy things that held up thigh-high hose. I could wear that under my work clothes, and then as soon as Jameson and I are out of the office…

Given that he’s talked to me before then.

Grr.

My phone rang, and I glanced at the display. Shit. I ducked down like my dad would sense through the phone that I was in a lingerie store. The ringing finally stopped, and I picked up the tiny outfit, debating buying it now or using the wait-and-see method.

But I didn’t want to wait and see. I wanted to be bold, and even if I never wore it with Jameson—my gut dropped at that thought—I’d wear it with someone.

Mr. Future Dude, who I could meet now that I was mostly equipped with the verbal tools and confidence I needed to amp up my foreplay game and sex life.

My phone rang again, and I jumped, dropping the flimsy outfit in the process and then scrambling to pick it up. I glanced at the screen. Apparently Dad wasn’t giving up today.

I tucked the lingerie into a compact ball and tucked it under my arm. “Hey, Dad.”

“Hey, pumpkin. Just wanted to check in and see how your second week working with JT is going.”

“Oh, great. It’s going great.”

“Are you learning a lot?”

You have no idea. “Definitely learning more about being assertive.”

Which meant that I was going to assert myself with Jameson, and tell him I was annoyed he didn’t call me back after I left him a sexy message. Did he have any idea what that did to a girl’s floundering self-esteem?

Not to mention my brain went all worst-case scenario and started picturing him out with other women, laughing at my ridiculous attempt at dirty talk.

Too many emotions swirled through me, and I tried to shove them back so I could finish up the conversation with my dad.

“Good, good,” he said. “That’s what I hoped would happen—why I called in the favor. You know I love you, and I really do want you to be the one to run the home branch, but this company has been in our family for generations, so first I need to know you can handle the responsibility, and that you know how to be a good boss. Okay, pumpkin?”

Nothing said I’m-turning-you-into-a-pitbull-type-boss like calling me the same thing he had since I was a kid.

“I’m going to make you proud,” I said, and I meant it.

I hung up the phone and then took the lingerie to the cashier so she could ring it up. Gripping the bag and reminding myself that I was capable of telling people what I wanted—I just needed to have the courage to open my mouth and do it—I stepped out onto the sidewalk and dialed Jameson’s number.

I’d just decided in favor of leaving a scathing voicemail message to let him know exactly how I felt about his ignoring me when his voice carried over the line. “Kat?”

Shit. With one word my insides turned to liquid honey, and thoughts and the ability to form full sentences flew right out of my head. “Hey.”

“Did everything go okay at the office today?”

Of course. He answered because he thought there was a work emergency. “Yes, yes, it’s all running smoothly.”

“No more insubordination, like at Friday’s meeting?”

“No.” I wanted to say so much more than that one little word, something like why the hell aren’t you talking about the other part of the message I sent on Friday? Obviously you heard it. Just when I thought I was doing better at asserting myself.

“Sounds like you’re handling things like a champ. By the way, I forgot to include it in my email, but I give you full permission to fire Rob.”

“Well good, because he also took the last cup of coffee without starting a fresh pot this morning and when you also take into account that it’s Monday, that’s more offensive than backtalk in a meeting.”

Jameson laughed. “Justifiable means for firing, for sure.” A sigh carried over the line. “Man, it’s good to hear your voice.”

“Oh, really? Seems like you would’ve called to talk to me sooner, then.” There it was, out in the open, no holding back. Probably too far on the relationshipy side, too, but I fought the part of me that wanted to hurry and take it back so it wouldn’t end up hurting me.

“Well, I’ve had your voicemail to keep me company, and trust me, I’ve used it.”

I attempted to swallow but found it impossible.

“I’ve gone to call a dozen times, only for some other emergency to come up. We’ve been working non-stop over here to redesign a whole new campaign, and it’s been one phone call or meeting after another.” His voice dropped low, his secretive tone dark and enticing. “But now it’s just you and me, baby. Why don’t we start with what you’re wearing?”

Oh, he was going to have to work harder than that. I lifted my chin even though he couldn’t see me. “The usual type of outfit I wear to the office.”

“Come on. You can do better than that. Just give me some hints and I can fill in the rest of the sexy office-vixen look. Are you wearing a tight top that you’re practically spilling out of?”

I automatically glanced down at my ample cleavage. If I didn’t wear a turtleneck or shapeless frock, there was going to be some spillage. “Well, I have big boobs and they’re not exactly easy to contain.”

“Trust me, I know. It’s one of my favorite things about your boobs. I just wish I was there to suck one into my mouth and flick and bite until you were panting my name.”

I slowed my steps, aware of all the people around me, and even more aware of the way my nipples hardened and strained against the lacy cups of my bra. Heat pooled low in my stomach, and I was a breath away from panting already. I stepped off to the side of the sidewalk and leaned against a building, closing my eyes so I could focus on just the sound of his voice. “I have on my black pencil skirt, and it’s tight enough to need a slit up the side so I can actually walk in it.”

“What I wouldn’t give to be there to run my hand up that slit and slip my fingers into your panties.” His voice grew husky and gruff, and I could feel the ghost of his touch, those slightly callused fingertips dragging up my thigh. “Are you wearing those fuck-me heels, too?”

I shifted my weight. “Five and a half inches of red leather, because I needed a color pop.”

“Naturally,” Jameson said, and I smiled.

“My lips and necklace are the same color.” I glanced over at the shop I’d come out of a minute ago. Part of me thought I should shut this down before I was completely sexually frustrated and people started looking at me and wondering what was wrong. But the other part of me liked the excitement of talking dirty on the phone, not caring that I was technically in public. “They also match the lingerie I just bought.”

His hard swallow carried over the line. “I’m going to need proof.” There was the boss voice, the one that made people hop to.

“I’m afraid you’re in no position to demand such a thing, Mr. Stone.”

His growl set my body ablaze. “Kat. You realize you’re only racking up punishments.”

“I feel like I’m being rather assertive, and if you were here, I assure you, I’d tell you exactly what I want you to do to me.” I worked to keep my words from reflecting my ragged breathing. “But for now, I better let you go. You’ve got all that work, and I’ve got a train to catch.”

He swore and then his sigh carried over the phone, and I worried I’d taken the game too far. “Speaking of work, I’m going to send you the files for the LoneStar account, and I need you to do that target market analysis thing you do. If we can get that hammered out, then I’ll actually be able to fly home, use my hands to find proof myself, and give you more of what your voicemail informed me you missed. Because it missed you, too, and after I’ve used my fingers and tongue to explore every single inch of you, I’ll drive it deep inside of you and have you shuddering around me in no time.” His words were a delicious promise, one I knew he’d deliver on. “Then we’ll do it again and again until neither one of us can move.”

“Bartering with sexual favors? I’m shocked and appalled…” There was no hiding my breathlessness now. “And rather turned on.”

“You can’t just say those kinds of things. Switch to Facetime and show me your wet pussy. I want to study it so I can decide which part I plan to lick first.”

There went my panties, and the incessant throbbing grew stronger, begging for release. But again, I was going to make him work for it, even if I was also torturing myself in the process. “Are you flying back tomorrow?”

The silence on the other line stretched out a couple of seconds. “I’m going to have to spend at least another day here.”

I clucked my tongue. “I told you that I was going to punish you for every day you were gone, and if I did as you asked, what kind of punishment would that be?”

“Trust me, seeing you and not being able to touch you is about the worst punishment you could give me.”

I stepped into an alcove that wasn’t private enough for an up-the-skirt show but gave me space from the other people walking up and down the sidewalk. “Before you go getting all excited—”

“Too late,” he said, and I laughed. I was super keyed up, too, and I was glancing out of the mouth of the alley, seeing how hard it’d be for someone to see if I decided to grant his request—not that hard, damn it.

“I’m switching to FaceTime, but only to talk.” For now.

I hit the button and, after he accepted the request, his face popped up onscreen. He looked tired, but superhot and disheveled in a way that made me want to run my fingers through his hair and add more dishevelment of my own.

“Damn, you look sexy,” he said.

FaceTime was hardly the most flattering, and I was trying to hold my phone at a better angle, only to find there really wasn’t one. “You’re just trying to butter me up so I’ll send you naughty videos.”

“No, I’m telling the truth. But I also want you to send naughty videos.”

“Then it’s too bad you didn’t call me back on Friday when I was feeling extra naughty. But I’ll show you what I was doing before I called…” I lifted the pink and white bag so it’d fit onscreen. “Here’s your proof that I did, in fact, buy lingerie.”

“That could be anything. Lotion, perfume, pajamas…”

Balancing my phone so I wouldn’t drop it and shatter the screen, I shifted the bag and lifted out a tiny corner, just enough for him to see that it was red, lacy, and very see through.

Then I let it drop back in. “You don’t get to see it until you get back.”

He groaned. “You’re a cruel one, Kat Taylor. That’s more than a punishment. It’s cruel and unusual torture.”

“But I bet you’ll think twice about not returning my phone call next time. Now I’m off to catch my train, and you need to get your work done so we can put an end to all this pent up sexual frustration.”

I blew a kiss at the screen and hung up. Maybe that wasn’t a bold move for most women, but it made me feel bold and in control, and I decided I was going to have lots of fun exploring my dominatrix side.

It’d make it that much sweeter when Jameson returned and decided he needed to show me that he was the one in control.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Jameson

My attempt to distance myself from Kat went to shit when I saw her name on my phone screen. I told myself I needed to talk to her for work, so I would just keep it professional, no harm, no foul.

I’d started out strong, but I was exhausted, and she’d made that joke about firing Rob over coffee, and I was a goner. When I told her it was good to hear her voice, I was telling the truth. There was something calming about her sweet voice. The innocence of it made me want to do not-so-innocent things to her, and once those thoughts rushed in, my self-control crumbled faster than a gambler at the races.

I’d flinched when she called me out for not returning her sexy voicemail, but pride had also filled me—she hadn’t held back. By the end of the call, there was no holding back, just her taking the reins and working me up into a sexual frenzy that refused to be alleviated with cheap imitations. What I needed was her body under mine, my name spilling from her lips as she begged for release. I’d give it to her, too, but not until I’d teased and tortured out every last drop of pleasure.

For the next two days, I worked my ass off and scared every employee working with me to get the account to where it should’ve already been. My patience wore thin and I despised the fact that I’d had to fly over and do everything myself. Usually I wouldn’t have minded. I liked to travel and the challenge of my job.

But now that I only had limited time with a woman who had driven me into the obsessed range, it was a nuisance. For the first few days here, I’d tried to deny the way thoughts of her consumed me, but I didn’t bother anymore. I was obsessed with her body and all the things I wanted to do with it. Obsessed with her voice, and last night, when I’d finally reached my hotel room, I called her just to hear it. Her sleep-roughened rasp made it clear I’d woken her up, and as I climbed into bed, we talked about our days, falling easily into conversation. One thing led to another, and I demanded she show me what she was wearing.

After teasing me for a moment, she’d given in, and once I caught sight of her hard nipples in that silky peach nightgown, the dirty talk started.

I showed her mine, she showed me hers, and I instructed her to demonstrate exactly how she liked to be touched. Then I took over, telling her what I’d do if I was there. It was so fucking hot watching her come apart at my words that I came right along with her, but it made me hate the distance between us that much more.

I was still thinking about it as I walked through the airport on Wednesday evening, my thoughts on getting home so I could get to do all the deliciously depraved things to Kat that I promised I would.

I was a man of my word, after all.

Or maybe not, because I noticed my flight now had the word “delayed” next to it.

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

But they weren’t kidding, and the universe clearly hated me.

Two and a half hours of waiting at the gate later, the airline informed the rest of the passengers and me that they were canceling the flight due to mechanical problems and that the next flight out was at six am tomorrow morning.

Which meant that I wasn’t going to show up at Kat’s door in a few hours, the way I’d promised her I would last night.

Not that I was one to usually gamble with mechanical problems, but I thought of Kat waiting for me in bed, wearing something lacy and tiny, and I was ready to climb onboard and risk it anyway.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Kat

On second thought, wearing a bustier to work might not’ve been the best idea. It made it harder to bend, and taking deep breaths was a no-go. I didn’t only wear the bustier, of course—I wasn’t that bold. But I’d put it on underneath my work clothes, adding a jacket to downplay the way my cleavage practically reached my chin in this getup. I also felt a slight tug on the straps securing my thigh high black stockings with every move.

I swear if I wear this all day and he doesn’t show up at the office…

To say I was disappointed when Jameson called me to tell me his flight was canceled would be a huge understatement. He said he should be in the office by noon, though. I told him that I’d believe it when I saw it, but made sure to say it teasingly, since I could tell that he was as disappointed as I was. And hearing that disappointment gave me enough confidence to wear lingerie under my work clothes. Made me more confident all around. This way I could tease him a little throughout the day, and as soon as we got off work, we’d go to his place or my place and get off.

I glanced at my watch. 11:56.

I decided I needed coffee, but the pot in the kitchenette was empty again. Are you serious?

Grumbling as I did it, I started the pot. Honestly, I was probably already keyed up enough without adding more caffeine to the mix.

Since I needed something to do to help expel all my frantic energy, I decided to go for a quick walk around the block. I gave Debra a heads-up and then rode the elevator down to the lobby. My heels clacked against the tile, and then the sidewalk as I stepped outside, and I fought the urge to pick the permanent wedgie my thong gave me, because it wasn’t like thongs—or heels for that matter—were made in the name of comfort.

I ended up grabbing a smoothie from one of the nearby vendors. I sat on a bench while I downed it, deciding it counted as lunch. Once I finished my drink, I tossed the cup in the recycling bin, and headed the block or so back to the office. I had just reached for the door to the building when a large hand came down on the frame, holding it shut.

My body recognized that hand and all the amazing things it could do to me. I glanced over my shoulder. A week was way too long to go without, and as I took in Jameson’s perfectly tailored suit, his strong jawline, and the heated gleam in his eyes, white-hot need streaked through me, sending my heart rate climbing.

Jameson’s cologne invaded my senses as he stepped closer, and I could feel his erection cradled against my ass. “I’m out of town for a few days and you take long leisurely breaks on my dime?”

I pushed back against him, a thrill going through me when he gripped the doorframe harder. “I’m sorry, Mr. Stone. It won’t happen again.”

His fingers grazed my neck, and then he balled up my hair in his fist and gave a small tug. “Good. It better not, or we’ll have to have a private meeting in my office.”

Through my turned-on haze, I realized that our co-workers were coming across the lobby. I quickly turned, and Jameson seemed to understand that there’d been a shift, even if he didn’t know why. “We have company,” I said.

He straightened and pulled the door open for me. I took one last breath of fresh air and stepped into the lobby. My body screamed at me, annoyed I’d pulled away from the fun instead of taking it to the next level, and I tried to convince myself that I could wait a little while longer.

Jameson greeted his employees, his deep voice igniting another spark of desire.

Since I didn’t want it to look like I was waiting for him—even though I wanted to—I made my way to the elevator. My self-control had been shaky as it was, so it was better this way. I could go upstairs and cool off somehow, like maybe I could see if I fit into the fridge, and if that didn’t work, I’d just dump ice water over myself, because that wouldn’t make people think I’d gone crazy or anything.

Just as the doors were closing, Jameson stuck his arm in the way, making them pop back open. He stepped inside the elevator with me. “You can’t escape me that easily,” he said, advancing toward me like a predator who had decided on its next meal. “Not after all those phone calls. Did you like knowing how worked up you got me?”

I nodded. But then I noticed that we were halfway to our floor already and panic flooded in, taking a bite out of our fun. “You’re going to have to wait until the end of the day. Remember the rules? No touching at the office.”

He reached for me and I smacked his hand. Heat flared in his eyes and he walked me back against the wall.

“The doors are going to open,” I said, only it came out breathy, desire making a play at overtaking my panic.

“Show me your panties.”

“We don’t have time.”

He crossed his arms. “I’m not leaving this elevator until I see them.”

My heart beat a million miles an hour as I reached for the hem of my skirt. I lifted it higher and higher, watching in satisfaction as Jameson’s jaw dropped.

The bing of the doors had me yanking down my skirt, and Jameson spun, doing his best to block me from view as they opened to reveal Debra and Rob.

“Oh good, you’re back.” Debra spun back to her desk, picked up a stack of notes, and handed them to Jameson. “Here are your urgent messages.” She reached for another pile. “And here are the non-urgent ones from the last few days that are probably reaching the urgent stage now.”

Jameson’s shoulders sagged as he let out a long breath, and I decided I’d have to find a way to cheer him up. But not till the end of the day, because no one would respect me if they caught me with my pants down—or skirt up, as it were.

Just a few more hours…

I checked the time.

Ugh, make that like five or six more hours…

Jameson adjusted his tie, and I thought of how he’d bound my wrists the last time we had sex.

Oh shit, I’m so screwed.

Actually, I’m not, which is why I’m considering breaking all my rules and requesting a private meeting, stat.

Our moans would carry through the entire office, there’d be screaming of his name, and…and I really needed to stop thinking about it, or I was going to explode from sexual frustration.

Then I’d get to have a super classy line on my tombstone that read something like: Here lies Katrina Taylor, who died of horniness.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Jameson

I don’t know what it was about sitting on an airplane for a few hours that sucked the life out of you, but it always did. I thought it wouldn’t be a big thing to come straight from the airport to the office, but my muscles ached and hours of work still spread before me, and all I wanted to do was lean back in my chair and catch a nap. Preferably one in the eight-hour range.

At the knock on the door, I groaned, not wanting to deal with one more thing. Only when I called out for whoever it was to come in, Kat stepped through the door. Suddenly every part of me was alert and ready to go.

The click of the lock as she engaged it made my heart thump hard in my chest.

“Here’s how this is going to work…” She reached over and tugged the cord that closed the blinds. Then she undid the top button on her shirt. “There’s no touching at work. We made that rule.”

“You made that rule,” I said, and she paused her attempt to undo the next button.

“Are you arguing with me? Because then I’ll just go.” She spun and took a step toward the door.

“Okay, no touching and no arguing.” That came out way too desperate, but right now I felt pretty fucking desperate. “Now turn around and finish what you started.”

She slowly turned back around and tilted her head like she was thinking real hard about it.

“Kat.”

“Jameson.” A wicked smile curved her deceptively sweet lips. She came closer, undoing a button with each step and then she slipped the shirt off and let it fall to the floor.

I stared, unabashedly, taking in every detail, from her overflowing breasts to whatever those things were that was holding the sexy thing together—I hadn’t gotten nearly a good enough look at them earlier.

“Are you going to be good?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Probably not.” I was already calculating how many seconds it’d take to shoot out of my chair, grab her hand, and yank her to me before she could realize the kind of trouble she was in.

“This is part of your punishment for leaving me without your cock for an entire week. Do you really think you can afford to get into more trouble?”

“Probably not,” I said again, “but that’s never stopped me before.”

She tsked and shook her head. “Guess the skirt is staying on, then. Too bad because this thong I’m wearing barely has enough fabric to qualify as underwear.”

“Take off the skirt,” I growled.

She slowly reached for the zipper of the skirt. She inched it down halfway and then locked gazes with me. “Remember, no touching. Or the game will be over.”

I curled my hands around the arms of my chair and narrowed my eyes so she knew that I wasn’t a fan of her terms, but that only made her smile wider.

Pretty sure it was why she also shimmied out of her skirt, torturing me with every sexy little movement. Holy fucking shit.

She took a step closer but remained just out of swiping distance.

“Is that outfit my punishment? Having to stare at you in it, but not being able to get my hands on you and feel it for myself?” I’d play her little game for now because the lust flooding my body and mixing in with frustration was oddly intoxicating. But by the end of the night, this woman was going to be bent over my desk and begging for mercy.

“It’s half punishment, half be a good boy and I’ll reward you.” She stepped closer, within my reach, and while I’d decided to play her game, it still took all my willpower to keep my hands on the arm rests.

“Good. Keep your hands right there and we can have some fun. As I mentioned, I’m very serious about you not touching me.”

Wait. What?

She bent, giving me a prime view of her fantastic tits and unknotted my tie. Then she slowly slid it free and used it to secure my right hand to the armrest. “Just to keep you from forgetting it needs to stay there.”

“That’s fine. I can do a lot with one hand tied behind my back—or to my chair.”

She shook a chiding finger at me as she clicked her tongue. “Not if you want the show to keep going.”

The phone rang and she jumped.

“Just ignore it,” I said.

She frowned at the still-ringing atrocity. “I thought that everyone had left for the day.”

“That’s why the calls are sent straight to my line. It’s fine. It’ll just go to voicemail.”

She glanced from the phone to me, then back to it. “Maybe I should answer it.”

“Do not answer it. Whatever it is can wait a few minutes.”

“A few minutes? Here I thought this was going to take a while.” She tapped a finger to her lips, then lifted the receiver and gave the caller a chipper greeting. She looked at me, and if she handed it to me, I didn’t care who it was, I was going to tell them to fucking call back later. “He’s a little tied up at the moment. Can I take a message?”

She spun, giving me full view of her ass, that tiny red triangle of fabric highlighting it in a way that made every last drop of blood flow south. She hung up, her cheeks flushed pink. “That was rather exhilarating now, wasn’t it?”

“I don’t know what kind of monster I created, but I’m not sure whether to be scared or turned on.”

“A little bit of both.” She straddled my chair, brushed her lips across mine, and then sucked on my neck as she went to undoing my buttons. I reached for her with my free hand, hooking my hand behind her knee, and she smacked my hand and pulled away.

“Kat,” I grit out between clenched teeth. “You’re driving me fucking insane.”

“Oh no, you’re not quite at the insane level yet. But you’ll get there soon.” She cupped me over my pants and I arched into her touch, wanting more—needing more.

She squeezed, ripping a guttural groan from my throat. “Are you going to keep your hands to yourself?” she asked.

I nodded, even though I had no intention of doing so.

She went to remove my shirt, but it snagged on the tie, so she undid the knot, tossed my shirt aside, and then retied my arm to my chair.

“Turnabout is fair play,” I warned, “and I’m going to make you pay for this later.”

She undid my zipper and tugged my pants down, then she climbed onto my lap, her damp heat dragging across my achingly-hard dick. She moved her lips next to my ear and gently bit at the lobe. “Bring it.”

She sunk farther onto me and rolled her hips, and I rocked against her. Her moan and the way she shuddered on top of me turned the blood in my veins to a raging fire that was ready to consume me and her and anything else that got in our way.

I lifted my hand, needing to yank down that top and see more of her, and she paused her movements, a scolding expression replacing the blissed-out one. “Didn’t you learn your lesson the first time?”

“Undo it.”

“Undo your restraints? I don’t think so.”

“Undo your top. The rules say I can’t touch you, but they don’t say anything about using my mouth.” I dipped my head and ran my tongue over where I could see her nipple peeking through the fabric. Her head lolled back, and she made a sexy whimper noise. She braced her hands on my shoulders as she brought her half-lidded eyes back to mine. “Now, undo. Your. Fucking. Top.”

Her ample chest rose and fell with rapid breaths, and I could feel her panties grow damper, which made me grow harder, and holy fuck, sparks of light were dancing across my vision.

She gripped the zipper on the side and with each inch it lowered, more of her breasts spilled out, just begging for attention. I licked across her collarbone, over the swells of her breasts and after she’d tossed the fabric away, I circled her nipple with my tongue, flicking the hard bud.

She writhed against me and I wound my free arm around her, holding her to me as I thrust against her, the tiny scrap of fabric annoying and tantalizing at the same time. I captured her mouth with mine, taking my time to explore every inch of her mouth and stroke her tongue.

I felt her muscles tighten and knew she was just on the edge, and she was about to learn that Jameson Stone followed through with his payback threats.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Kat

This was supposed to just be a preview for tonight. I didn’t plan on having sex in Jameson’s office, and I was trying to remind myself it was a bad idea while my body told my brain to shut the hell up.

Common sense didn’t matter anymore, anyway. We’d already reached the point of no return.

The tantalizing pressure was building, a floaty sensation was winding through my body and making me feel lighter, and just when I was about to get that rush of euphoria, Jameson stopped his movements and pulled back.

A whimper escaped, edged with need and lust and holy shit I needed the friction. But when I went to roll my hips, Jameson reached up and gripped my side, keeping me from following through—it was unfair that he could stop the movement with just one hand.

“Hop up there on the edge of my desk.”

“But I’m so close…” I tried to roll my hips again and his fingers dug harder into my side.

“I know. We’re going to call this payback. Now be a good girl,” he said, using the tone I’d used on him earlier, “and hop up on that desk for me.”

Pushing my lips out in a pout, I climbed off him. He arched both of his eyebrows, and I perched on the edge of his desk.

“Spread your legs.”

My rapid pulse hammered through my head and I did as instructed. He rolled his chair closer and then he kissed the inside of my thigh.

I bit my lip.

He kissed the inside of my other thigh, a little higher. Another whimper fell from my lips, along with a plea. “Jameson, please.”

“Well, if I could touch you…”

“You can. I don’t care about the stupid rules. Just forget them.”

“Sorry, but I’ve learned my lesson. No touching.”

Frustration and anticipation made a heady mix, and I was pretty sure I was going to explode. He’s choosing now to be sensible about the rules?

“Except with my tongue.” He slowly licked up my center, and I gripped the edge of his desk. The contrast of his wet tongue and the sheer, textured fabric rubbing against me made the room spin.

If this was payback, I was going to do more things wrong.

I drove my fingers through his hair and tugged, and he rewarded me with a flick of his tongue. He looped his finger into the scrap of fabric covering me and moved it aside, then he licked and sucked and teased until I was literally begging for release.

He held me right on the edge, a frozen few seconds of time where I was floating, floating…Then I was free falling, waves of pleasure turning my body into a liquid puddle of satisfaction.

Jameson yanked the tie off his arm, then he stood and spun me around, my back meeting his front. He ran his hands over my shoulders, down my sides, back up to cup my breasts and pinch my nipples.

I pressed back into him, and he made a low noise in the back of his throat that took my need to have him inside me to a whole new level.

I heard the crinkle of a wrapper, and then the torn gold package hit the floor.

His hand came around my throat and his lips sunk into my ear lobe. “This evening you proved that you’ve nearly mastered being more assertive and saying what you want. Now I think it’s time to teach you to be better at following instructions.”

A pleasant chill ran down my spine.

“Put your hands on the desk.”

I braced my hands on the cool, shiny wood.

“I’m not sure where to start.” He slowly slid my thigh-high hose down my legs, one and then the other. Instead of standing, like I expected him to, he remained bent down, but I wasn’t sure why until I felt his teeth sink into the flesh of my right cheek.

I gave a little squeal as I automatically pulled away.

“Did I tell you to move?” He smacked the spot he’d kissed and then hauled my hips back to his body.

I felt him tug on my thong. He didn’t bother removing it like I thought he would. Just shoved it aside and then dragged the head of his penis back and forth over my slick entrance, drawing out the anticipation to the torturous level.

“Tell me again about how you missed my cock,” he said.

“I missed it so much. I missed the length and the width and the way it hits that spot deep inside that nothing else can touch.” I cried out as he pushed into me, hitting the exact spot I was talking about.

His fingers dug into my hips as he thrust into me, again, and again, and….

Oh, God, again.

I circled higher and higher, not sure how much longer I could take it while never wanting it to end.

His skin slapped against mine in the most intoxicating way, and the heat building between us was reaching incendiary levels. “Remember when I had you show me how you liked to be touched?”

I nodded, and he drove one hand into my hair. He gripped it in his fist and tugged so that my back arched even more, his next thrust going even deeper.

“Touch yourself now. Just like you did the other night.”

I slid my hand down and found the pulsing bundle of nerves that were already swollen and tender from when he went down on me. When I circled my clit, my walls hugged him tighter, amping up the delicious sensations already coursing through my body.

“Jameson…I’m so close…” One last, deep thrust tipped me right over the edge, and I pushed back against him as I came around him, the world spinning completely out of focus.

I thought I was going to fall, but then Jameson pulled me up against him, one strong arm around my chest as he finished. His breath cooled the damp skin at my neck, and then he turned me to face him.

He bent his head and gave me a long, languid kiss that made my knees go weak again. “That…” He pressed his forehead to mine. “That was almost worth going without for a week—not that I’m saying I want to try it again.”

I noticed that his pants were still pooled around his ankles, his shoes and socks on, and it made me smile. We’d gotten so carried away that he hadn’t bothered to finish undressing. The fact that I could do that to him was intoxicating, and I felt power drunk as well as fully sated, and I wanted to live in this moment forever.

He blew out a long exhale. “Now that we got that out of our systems, I can actually enjoy dinner.”

I didn’t know if that was a hint that he wanted to dispense with the cuddling and leave, and a knot formed in my gut. Tonight was the most erotic thing that’d ever happened to me, blowing any scene in any of the books I’d read out of the water.

I should just be happy and satisfied and check it off as a win.

And yet, I couldn’t help but want a little bit more.

Jameson pulled up his pants and then handed me my bustier. “So, where would you like me to take you for dinner?”

My heart swelled and I told myself to be cool, but the grin stretching my lips felt anything but. “We’re going to dinner?”

“Hell yeah we’re going to dinner. Some minx came in here and fucked my brains out, and I’m starving.”

I slipped my clothes on over the racy underwear that was such a good idea, no matter how uncomfortable during the day, and then leaned in for a kiss. I loved the way Jameson automatically pulled me closer and took his time to properly kiss me.

I wrapped my arms around his waist. “From now on, I fully encourage touching at work, as long as no one can see.”

A wicked glint hit his eye. “So, so many ideas. You clearly have no idea how creative I can be.”

It should worry me, and common sense should also come knocking right now. But all that I experienced was excitement over how much fun we were going to have, and the thought that I should make sure to enjoy it while it lasted.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Kat

I nearly tripped over my purse as I rushed to get the door. I paused in the entryway, took a deep breath and let it out, and did my best to appear calm and collected, even if I didn’t feel that way. It’d been nearly a month since Jameson’s and my fortuitous meeting on the train and the time was flying by so quickly now. We spent our work days sneaking in heated looks and exchanging dirty messages and discreet touches, and then we’d spend most evenings together, too. Things were so good with us, and today we had a real date, one that involved more than just grabbing food after a hot sex session.

Today we were starting with the hanging out, although I was still hoping it’d end with us naked and sweaty.

Of course, I didn’t know if he considered it a real date. Last night as I was getting dressed to head home, I’d remarked that I still hadn’t seen much of the city, and he’d said that we better amend that ASAP.

The knock sounded again, jerking me out of my thoughts.

“Good morning,” I said as I swung open the door. My throat went dry and all I could do was blink. I loved Jameson in a suit, and the hot flashes his ties gave me as I thought of new creative ways we could use them, but there was something very sexy about the simple blue T-shirt and worn-in jeans. I wanted to tell him to turn around so I could get a view of the back, the way he’d once done to me, but then he leaned in and kissed me, and my focus went to the feel of his lips and light scrape of scruff.

That’s what else is different. He has scruff.

I ran my hand down his face, his whiskers tickling my palm, and tipped onto my toes so I could deepen the kiss. Jameson wrapped his arm around my waist, pressing me tighter as his tongue met mine, stroke for stroke.

“Now it’s a good morning.” Two creases formed between his eyebrows, the expression so opposite of his words.

“What?”

“You’re turning me into a guy who says cheesy shit like ‘now it’s a good morning.’”

I moved my lips to his jawline so I could feel the scrape of his scruff again. “I like cheesy shit.” I moved my lips to the side of his neck. “Bring on more of the cheesy shit.”

His low laugh vibrated in his throat, and in turn, my lips. Then he ran his hands down my body and gripped my ass, fitting me tighter to him. My body took that as a signal it was game on, and I wondered if my panties would ever survive a session with Jameson without getting wet.

God, I hope not.

Jameson released his grip and grabbed my hand. “Come on, sexy. If you keep that up, we’ll end up in bed all day.” I opened my mouth to ask what was wrong with that and he placed a finger to my lips. “I have plans. Day plans, night plans, all the plans. You’re just going to have to rein in your inner nympho for a few hours.”

“Okay, but when I let her free, just know that she’s going to be uncontrollable.” I flicked out my tongue, licking his finger, and Jameson’s eyes darkened, sending my heart rate skyrocketing.

He drove his fingers through my hair and tugged, tipping my face to his. “We’ll see about that.”

With that challenge hanging in the air, he led me to his car. I sank into the leather seat and watched Jameson round the hood, staring at him like a lovesick teenager.

I had no idea what to expect out of this outing, but he drove us to the harbor, pulled the car into a parking spot, and cut the engine.

“Since you only have a couple more weeks here, I figured we should start with the most important sights first.”

Only a couple more weeks…When I first arrived in Boston, all I wanted to do was get this boss-in-training stuff over with. Now the thought of leaving in a few weeks had me panicking over how little time I had to enjoy days like this, not to mention my assertive foreplay and sex training.

Sure I already got the gist of it, but there were more positions and more things I wanted to try. I’d held back on one, afraid it’d cross the line, and if Jameson knew, I was sure he’d get mad at me for holding back. Which was why I planned to work up the courage soon, but I now realized it needed to be sooner rather than later.

“You look upset. If you’d rather do something else, we can—”

“Whatever you have planned is exactly what I want to do. Like I said last night, I’ve been wanting to explore Boston, and I’m very satisfied with the sexy tour guide I got hooked up with.” I flashed him a smile I couldn’t quite keep hold of. “The time aspect just hit me is all. How am I already at the month mark?”

“Time flies when you’re having fun.”

“Oh, and you assume I’m having fun?”

Jameson leaned across the car, cupped my chin, and brushed his lips across mine. “I don’t have to assume. I can tell by the way you scream my name.”

Nope. My panties didn’t stand a chance of making it through the day. He kissed me, one hard press of lips that was over way too fast, and then he climbed out of the car.

Another thing had changed since I’d arrived in Boston. At first I wanted to know more about Jameson Stone. I wanted to know everything and to dig a little and see what made him tick. But I felt myself growing attached, despite my internal warnings, and now I worried that knowing more would only get me into trouble, and it felt like I’d already landed myself in quicksand, my feelings only making me sink faster.

Don’t think about that now, don’t think about that now…

The area near the harbor was bustling with people out enjoying the sunshine. I loved the energy and the old buildings and staring out at the sparkling water and seeing the boats bobbing along, and I kept stopping our progress to take pictures like the tourist I was.

Jameson was different here than in the office, everything about him more relaxed, like the weight of the world had been temporarily lifted off his shoulders. I wrapped an arm around his waist and curled closer to him. “I love it here. It’s so much greener, and Hartford doesn’t have a harbor. And it’s not like I have a boat, so I couldn’t really do much besides stare at the harbor, but still. It’s nice to know that theoretically I could sail out there someday and see more of it.”

“If you did have a boat, and money was no object, would you choose speed or luxury?”

I glanced out at the water again and thought of sipping fruity drinks on a deck—a good option, for sure. Then I thought of speeding across the water, the wind in my hair, and felt a kick of adrenaline. “Depends on the day and mood, but I think I’d choose speed.”

Jameson looked pleased at the news. “That was my guess.”

“What about you? Speed or luxury?”

He turned us down a dock, keeping me tucked next to him. “I actually have both—”

“Of course you do,” I said.

He poked my side. “Hey. Technically one belongs to the company, but the speedboat’s all mine, and I worked my ass off to get it.”

I tipped back and gave a pointed look to his delectable denim-covered ass. His suit coat usually obscured part of it, which was a shame, really. “Looks like it’s still there to me.”

He rolled his eyes and I laughed.

“Admit it. I’m hilarious.”

He smiled down at me and warmth swirled through my chest. “You’re definitely entertaining.”

“Not exactly the same thing, but I’ll let it go since I’m going to ask for something else.”

“A ride on my speed boat? Because before you interrupted, I was going to offer you one.”

“Okay, I’m going to ask for two somethings.”

He slowed us to a stop and turned to face me, placing his hands on my hips. “Let’s hear it.”

“But if I let you keep guessing, you might say more things that I want to do, and maybe I can rope you into them, too.”

“If you don’t spit it out, rope will be involved in your punishment.”

“Mmm. You need to work on your threats—that sounds like a reward to me.”

Jameson’s fingers dug into my skin. Using his strong grip, he yanked me flush with him, and I could feel him growing hard against my stomach. “I know you’re going to be the death of me, and yet here I am playing with fire, asking it to consume me.”

I placed my hand on his chest, feeling his rapid heartbeat echoing mine. “Later, there will be fire and consuming. Right now, I want water and fish.”

Confusion crinkled his brow. “You mean dinner? I have reservations set for later, but if you need a snack…”

“No, I want to see fish not eat them.” I pointed over his shoulder, and he glanced back.

“You want to go to the New England Aquarium?”

“If it won’t mess up your plans.”

“Actually, I haven’t been there in a long time. When I was younger, I decided I wanted to be a marine biologist, so I used to constantly beg my mom to bring me.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t demand it,” I teased. As I’d mentioned before, it was hard for me to picture a little Jameson. He seemed like he just came this way, bossy and demanding and tall and muscular and sexy as hell.

“My parents didn’t react to demanding nearly as well as my employees do.” Jameson lifted the hand I had on his chest, kissed the back of it, and then laced his fingers with mine. It was such a boyfriend-type move, and along with the tingles, a spark of hope ignited, even though I knew I should keep myself in check. “Let’s go see some fish.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Jameson

The dim glow of the aquarium tunnel tinted Kat in varying shades of blue. She leaned closer to the thick plexiglass and looked up as a shark swam overhead. I followed it for a moment before returning my gaze to Kat and those blessedly tiny shorts, and my fingers twitched with the desire to run them over her bare legs.

Then I’d work my way across the rest of her smooth skin, feeling every inch left uncovered before uncovering the rest and getting it under my fingertips too.

My dick stirred at the thought, and if I didn’t distract myself with some marine-life facts, I’d be the perv sporting wood around fish and all these people—I kept waiting for my body’s reaction to Kat to fade, just a little. With a body like hers, I knew that I’d never have a neutral reaction, but regardless of how much sex we had, I immediately started obsessing about the next time. About all the different things we could try, and all the different ways I could make her come.

Ok, the downstairs situation is getting worse by the second. I cleared my throat and pointed at the first fish I saw.

“This fish is a tarpon, and due to its majestic size and silver color, its nickname is silver king.”

Kat smiled at me like I’d told her the secrets of the universe. Then she pointed. “What about the giant speckled one that looks like the pissed off Godfather of the seas, like he’s about to make someone sleep with the humans?”

I chuckled at her Godfather twist. “That’s a Queensland Grouper. If you think he looks mean, the Goliath Groupers are about twice that size and have been known to eat sharks in one bite.”

She studied me. “Now I’m starting to see it.”

“See what?” I dared a quick glance down, worried I was so used to having a hard-on around her that I hadn’t realized it’d happened, but the situation was controlled. Barely, but still.

“You as a kid.” She tipped her head, indicating the family to her left. One of the boys was spouting off facts about the fish to his sister and parents, and I could see his frustration that no one was soaking in this important information.

“Pretty damn close,” I said, and she hugged me and snuggled in close, adding a kiss on my cheek.

A sensation I hadn’t felt in a long time stirred in my gut—one I needed to smother before it got the wrong idea about what this thing between Kat and me was. She was only here for a couple more weeks, so getting attached wasn’t an option.

It’d been so long since I’d even attempted investing emotionally that I wouldn’t know where to start. Feelings were a weakness, a key to manipulation that took away your control.

It’s just because of all the sex. It’s confusing my natural instincts and clouding my judgment.

That was definitely it. I liked reliving our past escapades while thinking of what we’d try next, and we were running out of time, so naturally I felt a strong pull toward her. There was no reason for deeper feelings to step into the ring. They’d only get in the way.

“You look like you’re having a heated debate in your head,” Kat said.

I shut down the thoughts that shouldn’t be going through my head. “I am. I can’t decide if I should show you otters or jellyfish first.”

She hooked her arm through mine and leaned on my shoulder. “I don’t care. As long as I’m with you.”

Shit. She outright told me she gets attached, and I pushed for this no-strings arrangement, and now I’m afraid she’ll end up hurt when this is all said and done.

I started toward the otters as I tried to convince myself that it didn’t have to end badly. She knew the terms, and I was helping her express herself like she asked me to, teaching her to be bold, whether at work or in bed. That way she could make a great manager or boss, and in her next relationship—

The jealousy that flooded me was a kick to the gut. No one else better ever touch her again.

Of course that was unrealistic and unfair, and fuck, why was my brain doing this to me?

As if to taunt me, it chose that moment to remind me that no matter what happened between us the next several days, when she found out my plans for the Hartford office, she’d be angry and hurt.

If I was a better man, I’d shut it down now.

But since I wasn’t, I wrapped my arm around her waist, pulled her closer, and told myself to just enjoy it before the shit hit the fan.

* * *

After putting several miles between us and the dock, driving the boat extra fast, since Kat said she wanted fast, I eased off the accelerator. Gradually I slowed the boat to a stop, letting the waves determine our destination for a while.

Kat stood and spun a full circle, taking it all in. Her cheeks were pink and wind-whipped, and her hair had that same bedhead look it did the first day I’d met her, when I’d fantasized about being the one to mess it up. “Wow, this is amazing. I can see everything.”

I saw everything, and she was standing up, grinning like a kid in a candy shop. I worked with a lot of serious, cynical people, and Kat was a breath of fresh air.

Most people would’ve chosen the luxury boat, which was fine—I enjoyed my time out on it, even if it was mostly spent schmoozing and keeping our biggest clients happy. If she’d picked it, I would’ve made a call to get a driver, but I liked being the driver. Liked having total control.

I thought that we might go to Spectacle Island, but now that we were out here, I wanted time alone with Kat, who looked like she belonged out here. Maybe she was a siren—that would describe how impossible she was to resist.

She braced a hand on top of the windshield, the breeze swirling her hair around her face. “Man, if I had a boat, I’d come out here all the time. There’s something so freeing about being on the water, like worries don’t exist anymore.”

“That’s why I used to practically live out here. It was nice to get away from it all for a while.” Those days seemed like distant memories, more like daydreams than reality. In high school, it was usually with my rowdy group of friends, and despite not being in international waters, we sure acted like we were. After Dad died was when I started taking more solo trips, just me and the water, everything else too far away to touch me for a while.

“Why the ‘used to’, then?”

“Because I decided to get my shit together. I immersed myself in my work and it’s been non-stop for years. Even most of my weekends are filled with work.”

“You should take a day off once in a while to just come out here and enjoy the peacefulness—or even an extra-long lunch. The office wouldn’t crumble without you, you know.”

“Not sure I want to take that chance. Plus”—I grabbed her hand and tugged her down onto my lap—“you’ll be gone soon, and what fun would it be to be out here without you?”

“Not much, because while you’re a very smart, interesting guy, I’m clearly the one that brings the humor.” She ran her fingers across my jaw and then pressed her lips to mine for a sweeter kiss than we usually shared. I was surprised at how much I liked the sweet, especially while out here on the water, where it felt like we were the only two people in the world. “So, how’d you learn to sail? Some fancy private school where you can take Boating 101?”

“No, my fancy private school kicked me out.”

Her mouth dropped. “What? Are you serious? Or are you screwing with me?”

“Not screwing with you for the moment, but later…” I moved to kiss her neck and she hummed, her body melting into mine before she sat up and pulled back.

“Wait. You’re not getting out of this story. Spill it.”

“The story is I was a rebellious, disrespectful teen, and I didn’t bother going to class as much as I should.”

“Ooh, a bad boy. I suspected as much.” She ran her hand down my chest. “And you learned to sail, how?”

I thought she’d get distracted and forget the original question, but I should’ve known she was too tenacious for that. She dealt with a lot of numbers and research, which was what made her so good at the marketing side of the business.

“My dad. We started with a sailboat, which requires more work than turning a key and a steering wheel. He tried to reserve most weekends for family stuff.” And it was one more reason he didn’t make it in the cut-throat business world. “Anyway, we spent a lot of them out here, and the speedboat came into play later.”

“It was…” I was kind of embarrassed to admit it to her, especially since on our first day working together, I’d jabbed at her about her dad giving her a job, and I was learning I was more spoiled than she’d ever been. “A present, one I got my sixteenth birthday.”

It was also one of the few things I refused to sell back when we’d been selling off assets to pay off dad’s debts. Most of them involved living too large, extravagant possessions and trips, but now that I was thinking of them in a different light, most of them were for the family.

Maybe Kat was right about having to choose whether your passion went to your career or family. He’d chosen family and being well-liked, and he’d failed at business. I’d chosen work, and I was more intimidating than well-liked, but when it came to work, I exceeded and succeeded.

With him gone so early, I hated the thought of not having those good memories of him, of the trips and the time he’d spent teaching me skills he thought I’d need.

Kat reached up and ran her fingers through the back of my hair, and I found myself opening my mouth and letting more spill out. “My dad was a great guy with great ideas, and he knew how to charm a crowd, but he was a horrible businessman. He let people take advantage of how nice he was, and when the company took several big hits and things started falling apart, he bent over backward to try to keep everything the same for his employees and at home, and he made a lot of bad moves. He lost not only his money, but also a lot of the investors’ money, and he ended up running the company into the ground. There at the end, he was stressed all the time, and it just pushed him toward the heart attack. And as if losing him wasn’t hard enough, he left my mom and me in a world of debt.”

“That’s why you worked so hard to climb the business ladder so quickly.”

The fact that she jumped to the right conclusion right away made me think that maybe she’d understand my side a little better when she found out about the restructure, although I knew the hurt and anger would still be there. “It is. Regardless of the debts I’ve paid off and all the money I’ve made, I still feel this need to redeem the family name. That’s another reason I’ve pushed so hard to make Craze as big and as strong as it can be. I’m close to achieving my goal, too, and I won’t rest until I do. For my dad, and for my mom, and yes, for myself, too.”

“Then do it. I know you can. And I know if your dad was here, he’d be proud. I can tell he meant a lot to you, and I’m sorry you lost him.”

For some reason, her acknowledging my loss made my throat feel too tight. I didn’t mean to go to mushy territory, and I needed to find my way out of it, and fast.

“And since I’m also enjoying the extravagant present he gave you when you turned sixteen, I’ll resist pointing out that you must’ve been one spoiled, troublesome teenager.” She nudged me with her elbow and flashed me a teasing smile. “No wonder you turned out so bossy and demanding.”

Bless her for lightening the mood without me having to tell her I didn’t want to talk about my dad anymore and making things tense and awkward. I wrapped my hand around her elbow and teased her right back. “If you go ahead and say it, is it really resisting?”

She shrugged, that heart-stopping smile spreading across her beautiful face. “Probably not, but when it comes to resistance and you, would you want me to do a better job?”

“Fuck no.”

She trailed a finger down my chest. “That’s what I thought. And since I’m not sure you listened very well the first time around, you shouldn’t bother resisting my advice about taking a break once in a while so your life doesn’t solely revolve around work, thinking about work, and doing more work.”

“That’s what I did until you came along.” I ran my hand up the outside of her leg and then skirted the hem of her shorts. “Now I just do work and you.”

“Well, by all means, make sure you take your break from your work time and not from doing me time.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I have my priorities in order.” I tightened my grip on her and slanted my lips over hers. I’d barely gotten a taste when she put her hand on my chest and broke the kiss.

I grunted, and she shot me a reprimanding look. “Patience, Mr. Stone. First, I want more of that cheesy shit you try to pretend you’re too cool for.” She swung her legs forward and gripped the steering wheel. “I want you to teach me to drive, and just so you know…” She rocked her ass against my crotch, teasing me into rock-hard territory. “I’m a hands-on kind of learner.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Jameson

“I feel underdressed,” Kat said as I guided her into the restaurant with one hand on her back.

I stepped up behind her, gripping her shoulders and moving my mouth next to her ear. “You want me to get you undressed?” I slipped the strap of her tank top off her shoulder and kissed it, leaving my mouth against her smooth skin and thinking about when I’d get my next taste. “I don’t know if this is a proper venue for stripping, but I aim to give you what you want.”

She spun and shot me a look that was too sexy to be as scary as she intended it. “You have very selective hearing, I’ve noticed.”

“Guilty as charged.” I gripped her hips and turned her back around, then nudged her over to the hostess stand, where a girl in her mid-twenties looked beyond bored. She must be new because I didn’t recognize her.

“I called a little while ago. JT Stone, table for two.”

“I’m sorry, sir, but the place books up weeks in advance, so if you just called—”

“If you’ll look at your list, I’m sure I’m on there.”

The hostess ran her pen down her pad, then did a double take, and her expression morphed into a much warmer one. “Right this way, Mr. Stone.”

As we walked through the place, it was pretty noticeable that everyone else was dressier than we were. I wore a suit more often than not, and I’d planned on eating at a more casual place so I wouldn’t have to dress up. I wanted to relax and enjoy a day where Kat and I were just two regular people enjoying a carefree day.

But as we’d pulled the boat back into the dock, I’d thought maybe it wasn’t so much that Kat belonged on the water, but that she belonged next to me.

That led to lungs tightening and a touch of freaking the fuck out. I didn’t do relationships and she was leaving anyway. The thought of her being hundreds of miles away didn’t console me, though. It sent enough panic to eclipse the panic over things getting too serious.

So I’d called in a favor.

Tables at Savor were hard to come by, but when the owner and chef was one of your oldest friends, he was able to pull a few strings.

We followed the hostess to a table in the back with a perfect view of the harbor.

Kat took a step toward the window instead of the chair I’d pulled out for her. “Wow, it’s all lit up now. It almost makes me want to hop back on the boat and go see the panorama view. Except I’m too starving for that.” She shot me a smile and then returned her gaze to the window.

The hostess told me that someone would take our order, and once she’d left, I joined Kat at the window. I wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her back to my chest and tucked her head underneath my chin. “You know, without the heels, you’re kind of short.”

“That’s why I wear the heels. Well, that and I love them, and they make my legs and butt look good.”

“As someone who’s reached expert status in that department, I can attest to the fact that they always look good.”

She twisted her head and smiled at me. “Sweet talk will get you everywhere.”

All sorts of tempting ideas filled my head as it turned to the gutter to decide what everywhere could mean—especially since her ass was nestled right against my crotch.

Movement caught my eye, and I turned to see Ben coming toward us. We exchanged a quick bro-hug. “Haven’t seen you in a while,” he said.

“I know. Life’s been crazy.” I gestured to my date. “Kat, this is my friend Ben—he’s the chef and owner of this place. Ben, Kat.”

He extended his hand and shook hers. Then he gave me a curious look.

“Jameson doesn’t usually bring dates here—I thought he wanted the special table tonight so he could be alone with his laptop.”

Kat laughed, and I clapped Ben extra hard on the back. “Okay,” I said. “That’s quite enough.”

What was I thinking bringing Kat here to meet one of my oldest friends? I didn’t want to examine the reasons too closely, actually, but now I was wondering if it was a bad move. I felt too exposed, like having her meet Ben gave away the fact that I was starting to fall for her, and she’d use that against me.

Even though she wasn’t the type. Then again, no one was until they were.

“So how long have you known Jameson?” Kat asked.

“As long as I can remember. We grew up together.”

Kat rubbed her hands together. “Excellent. You can give me the scoop on Jameson Stone. I want to hear it all.”

“He’s got a restaurant to run,” I said.

Ben dropped into the chair next to the one I’d pulled out for Kat. “I have well-trained employees who can handle the kitchen for a few minutes.”

She looked at me as if to say you should take some tips from him, then she sat down and turned her full attention to him, chin propped on her fist. “Lay it on me.”

Yep, this was the dumbest idea I’d ever had. I pulled out the chair next to her and tried to telepathically tell Ben to take it easy on me. What I wanted him to do was get a read on Kat, not spill all my secrets.

“Let’s see, where to start on our boy…I could tell you about the many hours he spent in detention. It wasn’t enough to land himself in detention, either. He always managed to convince me to go along so we’d both get busted.”

“Did you get kicked out of the fancy private school too?”

Another surprised, pointed look from Ben. “I managed to graduate by the skin of my teeth, but it sure sucked having to spend my last semester without him by my side.”

Kat clucked her tongue at me, but the way she also curled her hand around my thigh made it seem more like a reward than a scolding. “Such a bad boy.”

“Not just bad, but crazy. One of the craziest things I ever saw him do was jump a motorcycle between two buildings, just to win a bet.”

Kat’s expression changed, concern filling her features, and she shoved my arm. “Jameson! That sounds dangerous. Why would you do that?”

I shrugged. “Seemed like a good idea at the time, and as you can see, I’m fine.” I spread my arms to display how fine I was.

Ben chuckled. “Jameson’s all about high risk, high reward. Always has been.”

“I can’t exactly deny that, but I try to take more calculated ones these days. I also feel like my risk-taking has paid off well for me, especially in business.”

“So what made you so bossy?” Kat added with a big smile. “Besides being so spoiled and knowing so many random things about fish?”

I cocked an eyebrow at her. “I’m going to show you bossy here in a minute.”

The look on Ben’s face made it clear he was drawing some conclusions, but I was having trouble taking my eyes off Kat so I could get a read on him.

“He’s probably like that because he’s so used to being a boss,” Ben said. “I’m sure he’s told you about the company he runs.”

Amusement flickered through Kat’s eyes. “He has. I’ve even had a tour of his office.” Her eyes widened and her cheeks turned pink, so I was pretty sure she was thinking of one of her more private tours. “I mean…”

I wrapped my arm around her shoulders. “She means she’s working with me, but just for a few weeks.”

Kat bit her lip like she was worried what else I’d say, but I didn’t plan on sharing all the whys, or even everything we were working on together.

Ben tapped the table with his palm. “It looks like you guys are about to start a heated make out session that my poor waiter is going to walk in on, so I better give you dinner options and then get to cooking.”

We picked our entrees and then Ben gave us a nod. “Swing by the kitchen before you go, okay? I want to hear how much you enjoyed the food.”

“And what if we don’t enjoy the food?” Kat shot him a teasing smile, and I felt a hint of jealousy until I reminded myself that Ben was one of my best friends, as well as gay. He also had a gift for reading people, and I wanted to know what he thought about Kat.

Not that I needed permission to keep doing what I was doing, but navigating these unfamiliar waters left me on edge. Maybe I even wanted him to tell me she wasn’t as special as I was making her out to be, or that he could see she had bad intentions, which was horrible, but my head hadn’t been right since I met her on the train.

I could afford a little heartache. I couldn’t afford to screw up the company restructure that’d been in the process long since before Kat crashed into my life.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Kat

I leaned back into the cushy leather seat of Jameson’s car as we headed away from downtown. Jameson was quiet during dinner, the ease we’d had out on the water fading away as the real world crowded in. Stupid real world.

Or maybe he was just tired. Thanks to all our walking and time in the sun, my energy was a little lower than usual, but I was still amped up from being out on the water. I loved the sparkling water, the rocking of the boat, and the lapping noise the waves made against it. We’d talked and laughed, and Jameson did some major groping while teaching me to drive, which explained my inability to drive in a straight line.

It felt like something had changed between us this afternoon, and I thought it was for the better, but another shift happened once we’d returned to the docks.

I glanced out my window, to the scenery blurring outside as the city gave way to more greenery. You’re overanalyzing things. He brought you to an amazing restaurant to meet his friend. That means something. Doesn’t it?

I sat stewing for another minute or so, but then I remembered that I didn’t have to sit and stew and wish he’d just spontaneously tell me what was on his mind. I could ask. Maybe I was a little scared of the answer, but spending the rest of the night with my nerves stretched tight wasn’t exactly a better option.

“Hey,” I said, reaching across the console and placing my hand on his thigh. “You’ve been quiet since dinner. Everything okay?”

The faraway look faded as his blue eyes turned to me. “Sorry. Just thinking about work.”

Be bold in hopes that everything is still cool between us? Or play it safe?

I inched my fingers higher on his leg. “What do I have to do to get you thinking about something else?” I dragged my pinky along his inseam, and suddenly he wasn’t driving so straight anymore, either. “See. It’s not easy.”

“You sure showed me.” He accelerated, sending me back into my seat, and my pulse quickened. He curled his hand around my thigh, his fingers digging into the skin, and desire spiked. “But your method is quite effective—I’m definitely thinking about something else now.”

I brushed my pinky over him again, high enough to hit his balls this time. “Care to share with the class?”

His knuckles turned white from gripping the steering wheel. “I’m thinking that you haven’t gotten a chance to be on top yet.”

I pouted my lips and put a little whine in my voice. “I haven’t.”

“Well, we…” His exhale came out shaky as I stroked him over his pants. “We need to fix that. I’m looking forward to watching you ride me, your tits bouncing up and down, and that moment when you come and your pussy clenches around me that much tighter. Then I’m going to roll you on your back and fuck you so hard that you can’t walk tomorrow without thinking of me.”

There went my panties. They’d been damp off and on throughout the day, but now they were soaked with desire, and I wanted to get somewhere where Jameson could rip them off and we could get busy playing out the proposed scenario.

I wanted to stroke him some more—hell, I wanted to straddle him right now and get started—but I also didn’t want to die in a fiery car crash, so I got myself semi-under control and pulled my hand away. “Are we there yet?”

“Hey, no premature ejaculation is happening on my watch.”

I laughed and he joined in, but both of us were keyed up, the sexual tension between us palpable. He turned down his road, and I was so happy to see his house that I bounced in my seat, a move that only reminded me that all my blood had already rushed south.

Jameson was around the hood and by my door before I even got my seatbelt undone. I leaned in to kiss him and he held me back, earning a dirty look. “Just hold your horses, you siren. We’re making it to the bed this time. Now that I’ve thought about you on top of me, I won’t settle for anything else.” He tugged me toward the door. “After we make sure you get off first, of course.”

“Tease,” I said, and his arm came around my middle as he hauled me against him.

“I’ll show you tease.” He ran his hand down my stomach and undid the button and zipper of my shorts. Then he slipped his hand into my panties.

Lower, lower, lower…

“Yes,” I whispered, bucking as his fingertips found my clit. He dipped them into my wetness and then spread it back over me. I let my head fall back on his shoulder as he continued the circle and drag of his fingers.

Just when I was panting on edge, he withdrew his hand and spun me around to face him. Eyes locked onto mine, he slowly licked his fingers. “You definitely taste like you’re turned on.”

I whimpered, the ache between my thighs growing stronger with each second he wasn’t touching me.

“Now that’s being a tease.” He turned me around and smacked me on the butt like we’d just completed a play, when there was no completion about it. “Get your fine ass into my bedroom so we can finish what we started.”

“You just wait until it’s my turn,” I muttered as I pushed through the door. “I’m going to make you pay.”

He put his hand on my back, nudging me toward the living room. “Less talk, more walk.”

I resisted the urge to sprint so we could get started faster. Then I realized that there was something I could do to speed things up and tease him at the same time. I turned to walk backward, slowing my steps, and peeled off my tank-top. I ran my finger along my bra strap and then slowly slipped it off. Watching him watch me was exhilarating. I let my shorts slip down my thighs and then kicked them away. “Your turn.”

He peeled off his shirt and took a step toward me. I took a step back. “Pants, too.”

He lost them in a hurry.

I reached behind me and undid my bra. Then I flung it aside, turned, and sashayed into his bedroom. He caught me around the middle just before I reached his bed, grinding his hard length against my ass. I spun in his arms, and his mouth crashed onto mine. Our tongues battled it out for control as Jameson ran his hands over me.

I pulled back and Jameson let out a grunt. Batting my eyes and doing my best ditzy impression, I twisted a strand of hair around my finger. “Do you have any instructions for me tonight, Mr. Stone?”

He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “I want you on your knees.”

I dropped down, and his mouth fell open. I blinked up at him as I ran my hands up his muscular thighs. He was hard and ready, and I sucked him into my mouth.

“Fuck, Kat.” He threaded his fingers through my hair as I licked and sucked. I swirled my tongue around the tip, and he arched his hips. I meant to tease him, the way he’d teased me, but the noises he made and the tingly prickles across my scalp from the hair pulling spurred me on.

Using his grip on my hair, he tilted my head back, his cock slipping out of my mouth. “I need to be inside you,” he said, pulling me to my feet. “Now.”

He rolled on a condom and locked eyes with me. “Your turn for instructions. Let’s see if I can’t tame that inner nympho.”

“You asked for it.” I shoved him back, onto the bed, and then I crawled over him, dragging my body up his.

He groaned and gripped my waist, his erection rocking against my core. I lifted myself up a few inches, positioning myself right over him. Then I slid down, moaning at the way he stretched and filled me so perfectly.

I rolled my hips, needing more friction—needing more everything.

Jameson propped himself on his elbows. “That’s it, baby. Ride me as hard as you want.”

I bounced harder, and Jameson met me thrust for bounce, hitting my G-spot again and again. He reached up and pinched one of my nipples, and I felt the tug all the way from there to where we were connected. The flame there ignited, growing, spreading…

Until it finally consumed me.

Chapter Thirty

Jameson

I would never get sick of watching Kat come apart. I gripped her hips and thrust into her, drawing out her orgasm as long as I could.

Then I rolled her underneath me. I kissed her lips, inhaling her gasp. She was so tight and slick and perfect. The entire day had been perfect, and I didn’t want it to end.

I’d held my tight grip on my control as long as I could, and when Kat arched her hips and said my name, I lost it. My orgasm ripped through me, laying waste to every other thought, and I pumped into her until I didn’t have another drop.

I lowered myself onto the bed next to her, my breaths still sawing in and out of my mouth. Kat rolled to her side so she faced me, and I dragged my thumb over her kiss-swollen bottom lip. “Have I told you how incredibly beautiful and sexy you are?”

A smile spread across her face, making her that much more beautiful. “Thank you. You’re quite nice to look at yourself. And the sex…I mean, damn.” She nestled closer, her head on my shoulder, and I trailed my fingertips over her soft skin.

The day caught up with me and my eyelids started to lose the fight to stay open. Kat shifted away, and I reached for her and pulled her back to me. “Where going?” Words weren’t exactly working for me right now.

I sighed as Kat ran her hand down the side of my face. “You’re tired, and I am, too, so I figured it was time to gather my stuff and go.”

I cracked my eyes open. “I drove us here. How exactly are you planning to get home?”

“I can just call a cab or an Uber. It’s not a big deal.”

I didn’t like that idea, but more than that, I didn’t want her to go at all. “Wait,” I said, now that thoughts were connecting better and I realized how late it was. “Who knows what kind of sketchy drivers are out this time of night.”

“You live in a nice neighborhood, and I’ve called for rides plenty of times before, even later than this. I’ll be fine.”

I shot up, shaking away the haze of sleep. “You’re not riding home with some stranger at this time of night—not on my watch.” I picked up her hand and laced her fingers with mine. “Just stay.”

She bit her lip, and I wondered why she was hesitating, and trying not to be offended that she was. “Are you asking because it’d be inconvenient to have to take me home, or because you want me here?”

“Because I want you here.” I didn’t have to think twice about that, even though I knew I didn’t deserve it. The train coming to crash into us was in the distance but headed our way, so I just wanted to enjoy the time we had before it wrecked into us and left a mess.

Kat slid back into the covers and snuggled next to me and I held her close, memorizing what it felt like to hold her as I drifted off to sleep.

* * *

I walked into the kitchen to see Kat stretched onto her tiptoes, my oversized T-shirt lifting enough to see the bottom of her ass.

Clearly she was struggling to get the coffee, and I’d help her, I would, but after I enjoyed the view for a few more seconds.

“Got—ah!” She threw her hands over her head as the coffee can fell. The lid popped off when it hit the counter and grounds flew everywhere, a puff of brown clouding the air. “Shit, shit, shit.”

“Having some trouble?”

She did a one-eighty, her hand over her heart. Then she gave me a sheepish smile. “Shit. I was trying to brew coffee because I have a wee bit of a caffeine addiction, but for some reason you keep it on the top shelf, and well, obviously you saw the result.”

I moved over to help her scoop up the grounds. She gathered the ones we’d been able to salvage and started the coffee maker.

She wound her arms around my shirtless torso and dragged her nose across my neck before placing a kiss there. “Morning.”

I cupped her chin, tipping her face up as I lowered my lips to hers. “Morning.”

She was quite the sight, mussed hair showing signs of what we’d done last night and making me want to do it all over again. Eventually. Right now, I was enjoying holding her and the small hum of pleasure she made as she snuggled in closer.

Once the coffee was done, she poured two mugs—apparently the idea of getting me coffee in my own home wasn’t as revolting as the idea of getting me a cup at work.

I toasted two bagels, and then we sat at the table I rarely used. As we ate, she tucked her knee up to her, the other leg extended to rest her foot on my lap. Was this what it was like waking up with someone? Sharing your morning? Usually the thought made me want to break out in hives, but this? I could get used to this.

“So, what’s the plan for the day?” Kat asked, then her eyes widened. “I mean for you, like any fun plans? I’m not saying that I’m planning on overstaying my welcome.” Her chest lifted and fell as her breath increased in speed. “And I’m not saying you have to tell me what you’re doing, either. I was just trying to make small talk and…I’m going to stop now.” She shoved an extra big bite of her bagel in her mouth, like that could stop her from rambling.

I wrapped my hand around her petite foot, her red toenails hinting at her vixen side. “Well, that’s too bad, because my plans for the day revolve around you.”

“Really?” she asked, one of her cheeks popping out from the bagel.

I trailed my finger up her shin. “Really. I have dinner with my mom tonight, and I’ll have to send a few emails, but other than that, I was thinking an easy, lazy Sunday with an easy, not-so-lazy girl.”

She made an offended sounding noise. “Easy? You’re calling me easy?”

I skimmed my hand up the inside of her thigh, and her muscles turned pliant under my touch as her head rolled back.

“Fine,” she said. “When it comes to you, I’m easy.”

It was supposed to be more of a teasing demonstration, but my pulse rushed through my head, getting that much louder as I thought of all the fun we could have if she stayed for the day. We’d rile each other up until we couldn’t stand it, slake our lust, then watch TV or something until we were ready to do it all again. “Just how I like you.”

I removed my hand from her leg as I sat back in my chair, and she looked at me like I’d taken away her favorite toy. “Don’t worry, gorgeous. I’ll finish what I started, but you’ll have to be patient.”

She stuck out her lips in a sexy pout. “Why?”

“Because I said so.” I picked up my phone and tried to concentrate on the emails I needed to address. But Kat stood and stretched, the glowing light of the window behind her making the outline of her body stand out.

She looked at me, purposely dropped the spoon she’d used to stir her coffee on the floor, and then bent over to grab it, giving me quite a show.

The sides of my phone dug into my palm, and I wouldn’t be surprised if I heard the glass crack from me holding it so tight.

How could I still feel like this every single time? I wanted more even before we were finished, it was that fucking good. I was addicted to her, and I didn’t know how I’d get my fix when she left Boston. Surely it’d fade over time…

Since thinking about her leaving only made me aware of our limited time, I decided being patient was overrated. The sooner we started round one—or would it be round two, because of last night?—the sooner we could get to the next round, whatever it would be.

Kat shot me a sultry glance over her shoulder as she straightened, then she walked over to the sink and set her mug and spoon inside.

I circled the island, and when her eyes widened, it only encouraged me to pounce. I gripped her upper arm and yanked her to me.

“I thought I was going to have to be patient?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know what you were doing, bending over like that.” I spun her around so that the ass I’d gotten an eyeful of met my hard dick. I ran my hand down the front of the T-shirt she had on, feeling her puckered nipple under the thin fabric, and enjoying the way she automatically arched against me.

Her words came out on a shaky exhale. “Looks like I’m not the only one who’s easy.”

I slid my hand over her hip and down, down, until I found the spot that made her writhe and buck in my grip. As she shuddered against my hand, I pulled her tighter to me and ground against her ass.

Between the T-shirt and my boxer briefs, there was still too much fabric. With my free hand, I yanked my underwear down and off me, then I wadded the shirt she had on in my fist and tugged it up and over her head. As I brought my hand back down, I paused to pinch and twist her nipples. She let out a whimper as she arched against me again, applying more pressure right where I wanted it. I wrapped my hand around her neck, my thumb resting at the spot where her pulse point beat out a rapid rhythm.

Using my grip on her, I tilted her head to the side and then gave her a punishing kiss on the neck, marking her so anyone who crossed her path knew she was mine. “Have you ever been fucked in the ass, Kat?”

I felt her chest rising and falling against my forearm as her breathing picked up speed. “No.”

I moved my lips to her earlobe and gave it a gentle bite. “But you’ve always wanted to try it, haven’t you?”

“Yes,” she whispered, circling her hips faster as I continued to play with her clit.

“We’ll take it nice and slow, okay?” I stroked the lips of her pussy, finding her wet for me, and she nodded.

“First, we’ll get you off.” I plunged a finger inside her, groaning at the way her body clamped down on me. “Then we’ll experiment a little.”

I added another finger and curled them until I found her G-spot. She fucked my hand, riding it as I held her against me, and I pumped my fingers until she shattered apart.

“Jameson,” she said, and I turned her around and kissed her, claiming every inch of her mouth. Never breaking the kiss, I lifted her into my arms and carried her into the bathroom.

I positioned Kat in front of me so that she could see herself in the mirror over the sink—that way, I could also see her expression to help guide me.

I didn’t want to push her too far, but I’d been obsessing about her ass since the first moment I laid eyes on it. I slipped inside her pussy, working her up again, and once I was nice and slick, I pulled out and eased the tip inside her tight asshole. “You okay?”

Kat nodded.

“Tell me what you want me to do. I want to hear you say it.”

“I want you to…” Her perfect tits rose and fell with her shaky breaths and then she licked her lips. “I want you to fuck me in the ass.”

I pushed in another couple inches, and she shuddered around me. Fuck, I’m already about to lose it. She was so damn tight, and we fit together like we’d been made for each other. I grabbed Kat’s hand and guided it over her sex.

“Make yourself come. I want to feel it while I’m buried inside of you.”

She stroked and let out a moan, and I eased all the way inside her. Being able to see her in the mirror turned me on that much more. I gathered her hair in my hand and tugged her head back a little as I started long, slow thrusts.

“Look at how fucking sexy you are.”

Her eyes met mine in the mirror, half-lidded with lust.

She pushed back against me, and I saw black for a second. “It heightens…all the sensations.” Our bodies met again and again. “Jameson…I’m…” She cried out, rocking against me, and it pushed me right over the edge, no chance of holding back.

As soon as I was sure I wasn’t going to pass out, I withdrew and turned her in my arms. I brushed back her hair. “You okay?”

“That was…” She blew out a breath. “That was amazing.”

I kissed her, thinking she was also pretty fucking amazing.

She sagged against me then she glanced at the tub in the center of the bathroom. “Your tub’s ginormous. I could, like, swim laps in it.”

“It’d be one quick lap.” I twisted a strand of her hair around my finger. “Would you like a bath in that ginormous tub?”

She ran her fingers down my chest. “Will you be joining me?”

I slanted my mouth over hers. “Well, I am feeling kind of dirty.”

She grinned against my lips, and I thought that this was already the perfect day, and we still had a few hours to make it even better.

Chapter Thirty-One

Kat

“How have you never seen any of these TV shows?” I asked Jameson, curling up closer to him on the couch in his living room. I’d never felt so comfortable with someone before, even with guys I’d dated for months. More than that, I felt sexy. Bold. Like a woman who could tell a guy what she wanted and get that and so much more.

“I don’t watch a lot of TV,” he said.

“That’s just sad.” I continued surfing through the options onscreen, going back and forth on whether to start with intense and dramatic or light and funny. “And now it’s on me to pick the perfect series to binge, and that’s a lot of pressure.”

He kissed my cheek, his eyes still on his phone screen. “Just pick whatever you want, babe.”

“Something that’s not your phone is at the top of the list.” I gave a pointed look to his phone, and he glanced from me to it. “I’m just keeping up on emails. If I don’t—”

“Excuses, excuses. You can take off an afternoon.”

He wrapped a hand around my bare thigh. I’d claimed his soft, comfy T-shirt that smelled like him and had plans to smuggle it out of the house with me. “Between your insatiable sexual appetite—one of my favorite things about you, for the record—and taking off most of yesterday, I’ve left too many emails unanswered, and it’ll be crazy when I go in tomorrow.”

“I’ll help you with the crazy tomorrow, as long as you ditch the phone, sit back, and watch a TV show with me. I’m super fun and cuddly, so really this is win-win for you.”

A smile spread across his face. “You are super fun and cuddly.”

“Aw, thanks. It’s almost like I fed the compliment right to you.”

“You’re also sexy as hell, not to mention smart, and funny, and sweet.”

“Better.” I took the phone out of his hand, put it on silent, and then set it on the stand farthest from him. Then I snuggled back up to him and hit play.

When he laughed at the opening scene and kept on laughing throughout the first episode, I knew I’d picked right.

We were four or so episodes in when my eyelids grew heavy and my blinks kept getting longer and longer.

Jameson reclined back against the armrest of the couch, bringing me with him, and I drifted off to the sound of his low laughter, the feel of his hard body, and his fingers dragging up and down my spine.

Waking up from my impromptu nap didn’t go near as smoothly, a loud, piercing noise jolting me out of a pleasant dream about a guy who was tangible and underneath me. I squinted one eye, trying to reduce the amount of light assaulting my senses. “Jameson?”

He grunted, and as I pushed up, I realized he’d fallen asleep, too. The TV screen now had a message asking if we were still watching—usually I felt like it was judging how many hours I’d spent watching, but this time, it was actually more handy than annoying.

The loud noise sounded again, and I was now awake enough to process that it was the doorbell. Then Jameson’s phone started ringing on the side table I’d banished it to.

“What time is it?” he asked. I handed him his phone, and he said, “Shit. My mom.”

“I’m coming in,” a voice called, followed by the sound of a key sliding into the lock.

“Shit,” I said, noticing I was still just wearing Jameson’s T-shirt—at least I had on some panties, unlike this morning, but since said panties were of the thong variety, it wasn’t like they offered a whole lot of coverage.

All I could do was clutch the shirt tighter around me as the door swung open. In walked a polished woman who I assumed must be Jameson’s mom. Her blond hair was cut in an asymmetrical bob and she wore a wrap dress that showed off her figure.

“I’m sorry, Mom,” Jameson said, standing up. He didn’t have a shirt on, but he at least had the benefit of boxer briefs. “We were watching TV and fell asleep, and—”

“You were watching TV?”

“It’s weird that he doesn’t usually, right?” I asked before my brain could say hey dummy, this is sort of an A and B conversation so why don’t you C yourself out of it. Or C yourself to never jump into it—anyway, now she was staring at me, the surprise in her expression clear. I put a hand over my face. “Sorry. Just pretend I’m not here, wearing only your son’s shirt.”

“I think that’s enough helping, Kat,” Jameson said, but he said it lightly, with a note of teasing. He took my hand, pulled me to my feet, and wrapped an arm around me. “Mom, this is Kat. Kat, my mom, Angela Stone.”

“Nice to meet you,” I said, but I think she was going into shock or something because she just continued to stare.

She shook herself out of whatever daze she’d been in and smiled. “Nice to meet you, too. Kat, was it?”

“Next time I’ll be wearing more clothes, I promise.” I lowered my eyebrows. “Not that there will be a next time, but if there is, I will be wearing more, and…I’m just…going to stop talking now.” If my skin blazed any hotter, I’d set what little clothes I was wearing on fire.

Jameson pressed a kiss to my temple. “Would now be a good time to rub in the fact that this is all because you took my phone?”

I smacked his arm. “Jerk.” Then I turned to his mom, eyes wide. “I didn’t mean that. Well, I didn’t exactly not mean that, but—”

“But he was being a jerk,” she said, matter-of-factly. “He does that once in a while.”

“Mom.”

She shrugged, a smile curving her lips, her entire demeanor changing. Now she was looking at me like I was an adorable woodland creature.

“Uh-oh. She’s getting ideas.” Jameson stepped in front of me. “Mom, why don’t you make yourself at home. Kat and I are going to go get dressed, and then we’ll be right back.”

“Kat, will you be joining us for dinner?”

“Oh, no,” I said, as Jameson said, “Might as well.”

He and I looked at each other. I figured he’d want to usher me out as quickly as possible.

“It’s settled, then,” Angela said. “Maybe I’ll just call in D’Angelos since it seems you two aren’t really dressed for dinner.”

“Please,” Jameson said, then he nudged me toward his bedroom, and I wasn’t sure what to do with the dizzy, surreal sensation swirling through me.

If I’d known I’d be meeting his mom, I would’ve prepared. I would’ve…well, at least had on freaking clothes. The pressure was on to make a better second impression.

Don’t freak out. It’s not like it matters in the long run. You’re only here for a little while longer…

Instead of making me feel better it made my heart knot.

Crap, I was getting attached, making too much of this. I wasn’t sure I even wanted to meet his mom. If she was as lovely as she seemed, it’d only mess with my head and make me start thinking things that I shouldn’t. Jameson made it very clear this was temporary. And I had another life in another place.

Even if that life now looked dull in comparison. But this wasn’t real life. This was sneaking around and raw, uninhibited sex. It was the fantasy snapshot, missing the rest of the picture with ups and downs and growing further apart.

“Kat?” Jameson gently tipped my chin up, meeting my gaze. “Am I losing you?”

“Eventually, yeah.”

His expression turned serious. “Right. I meant right now, though. Don’t freak out. It’s okay.”

“How is it okay? I mean look at me!” I gestured to myself.

“I’m a fan. If I had my way, you’d wear that to the office. Then again, I’d miss the tight skirts and heels, so maybe this could just be casual Friday attire.”

I tilted my head. “Could you be serious for a second?”

“I’m dead serious.”

I shoved his arm, but he didn’t so much as wobble. Stupid hot guy and his stupid muscles and his even stupider smile that made me want to forget we weren’t alone in the house and climb him like a tree.

He drew me to him and brushed his thumb across my cheekbone, calming the panic and sending it to the background. “My mom’s well aware of the fact that I’m not celibate.”

“You’re getting colder on things that’ll make me feel better.”

“Look, she’s great, and you’re great, and I know you two will get on fairly well. It actually makes me hesitate, because then you two can gang up on me, and you’ve already got an unfair advantage as it is…” He moved his hands down to my butt. “But if you want to leave, you can take one of my cars.”

How was I dating—er, having sexy funtimes with—a guy who had several cars? Was this even real life?

“But I’d really like you to stay.” He rested his forehead on mine. “Stay,” he whispered, and I knew that I’d not only stay, I’d do just about anything he asked me to.

Which was as terrifying as it was thrilling.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Jameson

It’d been a long time since my mom looked so happy. The first few minutes of dinner were a little stilted, but once I’d gotten the conversation going, things fell into place. Mom and Kat were laughing together by the time the food arrived, and yes, they were already ganging up on me, both in agreement that I should take more time off. Then they started talking books, and I had no chance of keeping up in that conversation.

I found Kat’s knee under the table and curled my hand around it. She shot me a smile, and I leaned over and gave her a quick peck on the lips. “I’m going to grab a bottle of wine.”

For a second I hesitated, wondering if I was putting Kat in an awkward position again, but she turned to my mom, mentioned our trip to the aquarium and asked about when my “penchant for fishy facts” started, and I knew they’d be fine for a few minutes.

They were laughing when I came back to the table, a bottle of red and three wine glasses in hand.

“Uh-oh. Do I even want to know?”

“Probably not,” Kat said. “Just know that I’ve collected enough blackmail material to make you sorry if you ever cross me.”

“Let me guess. She told you the story about how I peed in a fountain when I was a kid.” Mom loved that one, and she hadn’t had a captive audience who hadn’t already heard it in a while.

“No, but I’m all ears.”

Mom’s entire face lit up. “I’d taken him to the mall—”

“Mom.” I shook my head, but she just kept on going. Why hadn’t I just kept my big mouth shut?

“I just stopped for a moment to put my shopping bags into one big bag, then I see all these people pointing and laughing, and I turned, and there Jameson was, standing on the ledge of the fountain, peeing into the water.”

Before this moment, I would’ve sworn that I didn’t get embarrassed, but I could feel heat rising. “I should’ve known better than to leave you two alone. Next time you’re getting the wine.”

Kat took the glass I extended to her and sipped at it. “She told me about how you liberated a group of baby chickens from the petting zoo.”

“Hey, I swear if you go to the park in that neighborhood, there’s still a chicken hanging out with the ducks, and I’m sure it’s one of the ones I set free.” Because I used to be a softie when I was younger, just like my dad. Not that I regretted freeing those chicks who would’ve been taken home for Easter and mauled, but I couldn’t afford to be soft these days. Kat squeezed my hand and that softening sensation tried to take hold, telling me that I needed to rethink my business plan.

It was the right call, though. Financially, and to help the rest of our employees.

I didn’t want to think about that, though. Future Jameson would have to worry about the fallout. Right now, I was just going to do what Kat said I should—take the evening off from all things business, and just be a guy who was falling for a woman who made him feel more than he’d ever thought was possible.

* * *

Kat’s father had called as we’d been wrapping up dinner, and she’d stepped outside to take it.

I dumped the takeout containers in the trash as Mom washed the wineglasses. I grabbed a towel and dried them, because not working now made me antsy. I glanced out the window, watching Kat pace across the yard as she animatedly spoke on the phone.

Mom placed her hand on my arm. “She’s lovely, Jameson. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so happy.”

I returned my attention to the glass in my hand. “I am happy, and she is lovely. It’s just temporary, though.” I should’ve realized my mom would get attached. It was just such a different feeling, wanting my mom to meet someone. In fact, I felt like everyone needed to meet Kat.

“But maybe it doesn’t have to be temporary,” Mom said. “A woman like that doesn’t come around every day, you know.”

I did know. She was like sunshine personified, turning everything brighter and warmer. She was also a bit of a beautiful disaster, which made me want to hold her tight and protect her from the world. I’d tried to teach her to be bolder and more aggressive when it came to the business world, but she’d never be as ruthless as she needed to be.

That worried me enough that I was tempted to toughen her up somehow, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I wanted her to be who she was, but just a little bolder. The thought of anyone walking over her made me want to hunt them down and break them.

I leaned back against the counter, finding my mom’s gaze still on me. “She lives in another state, Mom.”

“But if she didn’t…?”

I’d tried not to let myself think about it. If she were going to be in Boston full-time, I might just attempt my first serious relationship in years. Craze could definitely use her big, beautiful marketing brain, even though the plan was to save money and resources by outsourcing. She’d never take the job unless running her father’s company wasn’t an option, so following through with my plan to dissolve that branch might get her to move here, but after that happened, she’d hate me, wherever she lived.

Maybe if I just give it to her straight. Explain that I’m under pressure, too, why it needs to be done, and that it was in the works long before I knew her…

Hoping for something like that, or keeping people employed simply because you’d feel bad they didn’t have jobs would be doing business the way my dad did, and I wouldn’t make his same mistakes. In fact, stepping in before that branch completely crumbled would save Kat the stress of a similar situation, where her niceness got taken advantage of and she landed herself in real trouble a few years down the road, when the branch couldn’t sustain itself anymore.

I curled my hands around the counter. She’ll never see that it’s in her best interest, as well as the company’s. She and her dad will get a good payout. I’ll write her a stellar letter of recommendation about her marketing skills, and once this deal goes through and Craze skyrockets, that’ll be an even bigger deal.

Then she’ll be out of my life and my life will be a lot grayer, but she’ll bounce back just fine, and that’s what’s most important.

“That says it all,” Mom said, and I jerked myself out of my thoughts. “You want her here. You want more.”

“Mom, I—”

“Just promise me something?” She gave me her serious look, waiting for me to agree, even though I hadn’t heard what she wanted me to swear to. It was hard to disappoint her, and I found I couldn’t flat out say no, even though I knew she’d end up disappointed about Kat and me in the end.

“What?”

“Promise me that you’ll tell her how you feel before she leaves. She should have all the facts before she makes her decision.”

All the facts. Which just brought me back to where I started, with her being pissed off that I would be the guy who pulled the trigger on shutting down the company that’d been in her family for years. How could I possibly come clean and tell her that my dream for the business meant using hers as a stepping stone?

But time was running out, and the day of reckoning would get here one way or the other. So I’d let this perfect weekend finish on a good note, and then tomorrow after work, I’d call her into my office and come clean.

Maybe by then I’d also find the balls to tell her how hard I’d fallen for her.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Kat

The best day ever had been followed by a night where I tossed and turned and thought about how much I missed having Jameson’s body next to mine.

The tossing and turning was more than just missing sleeping next to him, because hello, we’d only spent one amazing night in the same bed. It was more the awareness that as soon as I left Boston, we couldn’t have any more nights like that.

Jameson and I were at that beginning stage of a relationship where things were still new and exciting, but this was on a different, more promising level than I’d experienced before, like we were only beginning to scratch the surface of how good it could be.

Okay, so technically we weren’t in a relationship, but what did technicality matter after this weekend? We’d crossed boundaries, we’d dug deeper, and I’d met his mom.

Of course, that was on accident.

Maybe I could extend my time here. Just explain to dad that I’m learning so much, but I feel like a few more weeks would be really beneficial.

Would he understand, or would he tell me I needed to get home now, or he’d turn over the company that was supposed to be mine to the jackass?

I didn’t want to disappoint him, especially after he’d been patient with my shortcomings and done everything in his power to make sure I had every chance to be the boss he wanted me to be.

Thinking about that just sent my mind reel spinning again, the same questions that made it impossible for me to sleep continuing to plague me as I tried to focus on work. I was seriously exhausted from the mental and emotional tug of war.

I glanced back at Jameson’s office, wondering if I’d somehow missed his return. He’d been on the phone most of the morning before heading to the conference room for a meeting with the accounts manager. He wasn’t seated behind his desk, though, so the meeting must’ve run long. I knew he liked his meetings short and opposite-of-sweet, so I doubted that’d leave him in a very good mood.

Yesterday when I’d promised to help him catch up on the work he’d neglected in favor of hanging out with me this weekend, I had no idea just how insane his to-do list was. Unfortunately, there was only so much I could help him with since most of his emails required a response from him personally, but I’d taken everything I could off his plate.

Since I had trouble keeping myself under control around him, it was probably for the best that we couldn’t try to do some multitasking alone in his office.

If I stick around for longer, there’ll be more chance of us getting caught. That would be bad for my reputation, people would only question my authority more, then there’d be more disappointment from my dad, and I could kiss being boss of anything goodbye. I wasn’t even going to pretend Jameson and I wouldn’t keep fooling around, either. We’d already failed that test. More than once.

I read through the weekly reports, putting the important highlights in one big doc so Jameson could see it at a glance and wouldn’t have to spend time digging.

We do make a good team if I say so myself.

Maybe I should put my boldness lessons to good use after work today and just tell him I’m considering staying, and see what he thinks.

Obviously that would give away the fact that I’d gotten attached, but I doubted it would come as a surprise to him, and I felt like he was at least a little attached as well.

What if he was only more open with me this weekend because he knew our time was limited? It’d definitely been easier to tell him what I wanted in the bedroom because of that, but that was in the beginning. Things had changed. Right?

It’d crush me if he was like nah better hurry back home.

I forced myself to finish compiling the reports and then emailed it to Jameson, telling him I could give him the highlights if he didn’t have time to read it.

I almost put XOXO at the bottom of the email but decided against it, just in case the threat companies always made about reading emails happened today.

With that task complete, my brain couldn’t wait to throw one final question in my face, and it was the kicker: If I stayed for a little while longer, would it only make it that much harder to say goodbye in the end?

Goodbye, I thought, and my heart squeezed into a tight, painful knot. How was I ever going to go back to boring sex, or solo sex? How was I supposed to let go of the deeper connection I had with Jameson, in and out of the bedroom, a connection I’d never had with anyone before? The situation was impossible, and I wanted it to be the opposite.

My heart was already involved, and I had a feeling it was going to end up broken, no matter what happened.

Deep voices broke me out of my sucky What If game, and I glanced up to see Ben, the chef I’d met at Savor, and another guy I didn’t recognize but could wear the hell out of a suit.

I pushed away from my desk and stood. “Hey, Ben. How are you?”

“Kat.” He stepped forward and hugged me like we’d been friends forever. “Lovely to see you.”

“Right back at you. Are you here to see Jameson?”

“We both are. This is one of our fellow Plymouth Academy survivors, Nathan Fox.” Ben put a hand to the side of his mouth and stage whispered, “He’s a lawyer. We try not to hold it against him.”

I laughed. “I’ll do my best to do the same. I think Jameson’s still in a meeting, but I’ll go tell him you’re—”

“Hey, guys,” Jameson said as he rounded the corner. My heart quickened and butterflies stirred in my gut. There he was. The guy who proved it was possible to have great conversations and amazing sex. His blue eyes flickered to me, and he gave me a small, secretive smile I felt all the way down to my toes.

“Hey,” I said, even though we’d already exchanged good morning greetings first thing this morning. Realizing it sounded a little too dreamy, I switched into strictly-business mode. “Anything you need me to take care of?”

He cocked an eyebrow that spoke of very filthy thoughts, and my cheeks went warm.

“Um, I mean from your meeting with David—I already compiled the reports and emailed them to you.”

Nathan cleared his throat. “Speaking of meetings, are we having ours, or what?”

Ben clapped him on the back. “Heaven forbid Nate wastes billable hours saying something nice like hello.”

“Let’s get on with it, then,” Jameson said, sweeping his arm toward his open office door. But instead of following them inside, he hung back and approached my desk. He set a cup of coffee in front of me, and I wondered how I’d missed the to-go cup in his hand. Then I took in the way his suit coat showcased so many delicious features and how his ice blue tie matched his eyes, and it was hardly a mystery. “The pot in the kitchen was empty again, so I grabbed you a coffee while I was picking one up from the cart downstairs. I already fixed it up the way you like it.”

I quickly glanced around to make sure no one was watching us or within hearing distance—luckily most people were at lunch. “You mean hot and strong? Because, as I’m sure you know, that is exactly what I like.” I leaned closer and whispered, “I’ll have to give you a proper thank you later, once we’re alone.”

“Not if I find you alone first.” He flashed me a grin edged with deliciously dirty intentions, and then disappeared into his office.

I took a sip of my coffee and sighed, thinking I didn’t even need another month, week, or day to fall head over heels for Jameson Stone.

Nope, I was already there.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Jameson

“That’s a sexual harassment suit just waiting to happen,” Nate said the second I closed the door to my office behind me.

“Bringing my assistant coffee counts as sexual harassment now?”

“Well, if you weren’t also fucking her on the side, it might not, but since you obviously are, it does.”

I clenched my fists. This was why I’d taken Kat to meet Ben instead of Nate. “Mind your own damn business.”

“I’m your lawyer. You are my business, and with this restructuring deal coming up, you can’t afford a misstep. Please tell me you at least made her sign a nondisclosure agreement…”

I crossed my arms.

“Talked to HR, at the very least?” he asked, and when I remained planted in place, he pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head.

“That’s our boy,” Ben said, picking up a paperweight one of my clients had given to me and tossing it in the air like a baseball. “High risk, high reward.”

“This is different,” I said as I rounded my desk and settled into my chair. “It’s more than…” I caught sight of Kat as she headed toward the front of the office, and that warm, softening sensation that refused to be snuffed out went through me. “It’s just more, okay.”

“You have to get her to sign a non-disclosure-agreement, and it needs to be retroactive.” Nate thumbed out a message on his phone. Back in the day, he used to be a lot more fun, and he was still one of my best friends, but he was even more all business, all the time than I was, and I never took a break.

Or I never did until Kat came along.

“Look, judging from the looks of her, I’m sure she’s a good—”

“Watch it,” I growled.

Ben grinned. “You really like her. I knew it when you brought her in the other night.”

“Yes, okay. I like her, and I’m going to tell her that I care about her, and try to convince her to stay in Boston. But first I have to come clean about my plans to shut down the Hartford branch which is going to suck ass since her great-grandfather formed the company that eventually became that branch, and she’s spent her entire life thinking she was going to run it someday.”

Nate pointed a finger at me. “Don’t you dare tell her. Not until after you have her sign the NDA I’m going to send you, you hear me? Then you can spout cheesy poetry until you’re blue in the face.”

“Wow, you know all my moves.”

He glared at me, and I glared right back.

“I met her the other night at the restaurant,” Ben said. “She’s solid.”

“How fucking clueless are you guys? The second this goes bad—whether it’s the relationship or finding out about the branch closing down—the claws will come out, and then all of your assets, including this company you love so much, will be in danger.”

My lungs tightened. I wanted to tell him that Kat wasn’t like that, but that was the way my dad did business, with his gut and heart instead of his head. And counting the guy in Texas who’d said something similar, this was the second time I’d been warned about how badly it could go. As much as I hated to admit it, Nate was right. I couldn’t risk anything like that happening right now, not when I was so close to clearing the Stone name and securing my future. I needed to think with my head and leave the way I felt about Kat out of it. “Fine. Type it up and send it over.”

I told myself it wouldn’t matter. After she signed it I’d tell her everything, and at the end of it all, we’d see if there was anything left to try to salvage.

I’d never been one for optimism, but I found myself hoping that despite having the odds stacked against us, we’d find a way to get past it. Because the other option was to say goodbye to the only woman who made me want a whole lot more, and I knew she’d be walking away with a piece of me that I’d never get back.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Kat

My mood couldn’t get any better. My head was somewhere up in the clouds, and if I could whistle, I might even warble a happy tune. Which was annoying to co-workers, so it was probably for the best that the only whistling I could do ended in spluttery raspberries. Maybe I’d settle for a less annoying hum instead.

Jameson had a late afternoon meeting away from the office, but I was hoping he’d be back soon so we could coordinate and see who’s place we’d be going to after work. I didn’t care, just so long as we could spend a few hours together.

A guy with a messenger bag and a large manila envelope in his hands strode into the office area, and then paused, glancing around at all the empty desks. Rob and I were the only ones left, and he was at the far end of the office, mostly obscured by computer screens.

“Looking for someone?” I asked, even though it was pretty clear that was the case.

“There wasn’t anyone at the receptionist desk, and I was told this had to be delivered to JT Stone ASAP.”

I stood and extended a hand. “I’ll make sure he gets it.”

The courier eyed me suspiciously, like I might offer to take mysterious packages and then dispose of them for funsies. “I’m his assistant, and I’ll give it to him as soon as he comes back from his meeting. Need me to sign for it?”

He brought it the last few steps and thrust a clipboard at me. I signed on the line, noticing it wasn’t even a little bit dotted and wondering if lines used to be dotted since there was that saying about signing on them.

Once the courier left, I tested Jameson’s office door, found it unlocked, and pushed inside.

I tossed the package on the desk so that he’d see it right away, but instead of hitting the center and staying there, it slid off the other side. I moved to pick it up, and of course the envelope had opened when it hit the ground, spilling out the documents.

I gathered up the contents and sat in Jameson’s chair. As I worked to straighten the documents so they’d fit back in the envelope, I couldn’t help but read the note scribbled on the neon yellow Post-it.

Have your girl sign this ASAP. No reason to risk losing everything over a hot piece of ass.

-Nate

I didn’t know whether to be offended or paranoid. It depended on if the girl/hot piece of ass was me. If it wasn’t, Jameson and I had a problem. If it was…well, we also might have a problem.

I peeled off the Post-it and took a better look at the document.

Non-disclosure agreement? Why would I need to sign one of those?

Doesn’t Jameson trust me?

Okay, so the fact that I was reading confidential documents might make it seem like I wasn’t 100 percent trustworthy, but they’d opened by accident.

Not so much an accident? Reading on. For one, the papers were a good inch thick, and surely NDAs weren’t that hefty.

What I found after the first five pages that made up the non-disclosure agreement was even worse.

There was yet another Post-it.

Severance package for Stuart Taylor

If it wasn’t my dad’s name, I might’ve been able to slide the documents back in the envelope, but once I saw those words, I couldn’t not read on. My gut dropped as I skimmed through, a sense of disbelief and panic wringing out my lungs.

I’d just finished leafing through the documents when Jameson stepped into the office.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he said, exhaustion dragging down his words. “You’re a sight for sore eyes. I was afraid you’d already left for the day.”

Just like that, the panic and what-the-fuckery I was feeling ignited and turned into seething anger. “Well, considering what I just found out, you should be afraid of me in general.” I lifted the document. “What the hell is this?”

“I’m not sure,” he said, walking closer and tilting his head to get a look at it. “I… Oh.”

“Oh?” My breaths came right on top of each other and I crossed my arms, squeezing my biceps to try to contain my rage and the urge to cry. “Explain.”

He let out a sigh that sounded like it weighed 100 pounds and then sat on the edge of the desk, facing me. “One of the main reasons I was voted into the CEO position was because I promised I’d find ways to cut the overhead and increase profits. I’ve run the numbers several times, and there’s one branch that’s not pulling its weight.”

I shook my head. Dad mentioned things were tight, but he said everything was turning around and would be back to normal in no time. “We had a couple of hard years, but we’re bouncing back.”

Jameson leveled his blue-eyed gaze on me. “You’re not. When I said it wasn’t pulling its weight, I was being generous. The Hartford branch is dead weight. Your father has a bloated salary, especially for how little business he brings in, and you’ve lost more clients than you’ve signed for a while.”

Each word struck my chest, stinging and burning. “Jeez, tell me what you really think.”

“I’m not going to hold back because…” He trailed off and ran a hand through his hair.

“Oh, now you’re the one not finishing sentences? You’re not holding back because we’re fuck buddies, is that it? Yeah, I’d hate for you to lose everything over a ‘hot piece of ass.’” I tossed the other document at him, wishing my voice wasn’t shaking as badly as my hands.

Jameson picked it up and sighed.

“Ooh, another sigh.”

“Kat,” he said, in that firm, no-nonsense, do-what-I-say-or-else voice. “I’d like to talk about this like civilized adults.”

“You think going behind people’s backs makes you civilized? When you made a play for the open CEO position, my dad voted for you. Doesn’t that mean anything?”

“It means that he and the rest of the board thought I’d do the best job of deciding how to run the company and where to cut costs, and that’s exactly what I’m doing. It also means that when he called me up and asked if his daughter could work with me, I took him up on it, even though I didn’t have the time to train someone.”

The stinging pain radiated outward, spreading until it took over my whole chest. I stood, unable to just keep sitting there while he looked down on me with that stony, unfeeling expression on his face. “So sorry I was such an inconvenience. I could tell it was a big hardship when you bent me over your desk. If you think about it, I was actually saving you a lot of time, because you didn’t even have to leave the office to get laid.”

Jameson reached for me, and I jerked my arm away. “Come on, Kat. Don’t pull our relationship into this. It’s just business.”

“It’s just business? Really?” My voice cracked and I took a steadying breath. “This is my life. Why bother training me when you knew I wouldn’t have a job in a couple of months?”

“So that you could get hired somewhere, even if your daddy wasn’t there.”

My heart knotted, so tightly I didn’t think it’d ever beat right again, and tears were definitely forming. “That’s what you think of me?”

He stood and gripped my shoulders. “I know how hard it is to get an in. I’ve been pushing you to be bolder so that when you go in for a job interview and say you’re the best candidate, they’ll believe it and so will you.”

“You don’t believe in me, so why should I?”

“But I do believe in you. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have pushed you so hard.”

I wanted to storm out, but then I thought of all the people in the Hartford office, the people I’d worked with, most of whom I’d grown up around. “Then give me a chance to implement what I’ve learned. Just a couple of months, and if we manage to—”

“It won’t be enough. You’re amazing at narrowing down the right target audience and knowing just how to reach them—better than anyone else I’ve worked with, honestly—but that’s not enough to fill in all the missing pieces at your branch. It’s not enough to just specialize in one thing anymore, and the Hartford office isn’t even good at that one thing anymore. Your father is good at face to face meetings and in-person marketing, but this business doesn’t work like that anymore. It’s an outdated model. One he’s refused to change.”

His voice softened. “This is the best decision for Craze, and because of how much Taylor-Made helped us grow when we first merged, we’re offering severance packages. Your father and his employees will get notice next week, after the board’s decision is finalized, and that’ll give them some money and time to find new jobs. It’s a fair deal for everyone.”

I shook my head. “You’re making it sound like you’re riding in on a white horse, but you’re the guy on the black one, getting ready to plunder the village and leave the people homeless.”

He tilted his head. “Kat.”

I tilted mine right back. “Jameson.”

The muscles along his jaw tightened. “Why don’t you go home and process, and we can talk about this tomorrow?”

“No, screw that. I’m not going to come into the office tomorrow. There’s no point.” I stepped back, out of his reach. “Besides, I’d probably just kick my asshole boss in the balls, and then there would go my gleaming letter of recommendation. I sure hope you’ll include how submissive and easy I was—I’m sure that’ll land me a great position. Please tell them that I prefer it from behind.”

Jameson shot forward, his eyes flashing. “Damn it, Kat,” he growled. “It doesn’t have to be like this. This past month with you has been amazing, and believe it or not I care about you and what happens to you. I know you’re mad, but try to see it from my side.”

“You’re not always right, you know.”

He took another step, looming over me, every inch the steely businessman he was when I first stepped into his life. “When it comes to business, sweetheart, I am. And it’s because I run it with my head, not my emotions.”

“Well, congrats on being a robot. Me and my emotions are going to go cry, but then we’ll find a better solution that doesn’t involve fifty plus people who have families counting on them losing their jobs.” I wanted to have changed him somehow, the way I felt changed after being with him, and now I could see how foolish I was to think that I could. A tear slipped down my cheek, and I didn’t bother wiping it away. “Oh, and it’s really too bad that you didn’t have me sign that NDA before, because suddenly I feel like disclosing a whole lot to the people at my branch and to the board. Guess you should’ve kept your piece of ass on a tighter leash.”

I thought he would threaten me, or try to talk me into not saying anything, but he just pinched the bridge of his nose, like oh, poor him, he was going to have a headache later because I was so difficult.

What was really difficult—more difficult than it should be considering what I’d just discovered—was leaving him behind with everything all wrong between us, no idea if I’d ever even see him again.

And a stupid part of me wanted to have one last time with him, so at least I could mentally and physically prepare myself for the fact that it was the last time.

Instead, I just got to leave with a broken heart and the knowledge that the job I’d been training my whole life for no longer existed.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Jameson

“Just tell me what the fucking numbers are so we can get on with it,” I snapped Thursday morning, my patience worn not just thin, but long gone.

David shoved a document across my desk and rattled off the information I’d asked for. Saying this week had been the worst, shittiest week would still fall short of describing how awful it’d been.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Debra hovering near my door. “What is it?”

David took that as his opening and fled, which was probably for the best.

“You have a phone call…”

My lungs froze, not sure whether to inflate or deflate. I’d called Kat at least a dozen times and left several messages. I’d even swung by her house and pounded on her door, but she didn’t answer. It was starting to be pathetic, but with each phone call, each person who came into the office to see me, I hoped it’d be her.

“It’s Stu Taylor,” Debra said, and my lungs chose to deflate now that they knew it wasn’t Kat. “He wanted to confirm your dinner appointment, and it wasn’t in your calendar, so I thought I’d double check.”

Dinner with Stu Taylor was the last thing I wanted to do, but it needed to be done. By now it might be more damage control than a heads up, but it didn’t change the need to get it over with. “You can confirm,” I said, but when she didn’t turn to go and do so, I raised my eyebrows. “Is there something else?”

“He asked about Katrina.” Her eyebrows knit together. “He asked to be transferred to her extension. Evidentially he thinks she’s still working here, and I wasn’t sure how to proceed.”

If he thinks she’s still here, she must not’ve told him about the branch closing… I didn’t know what that meant, or what to say to her father. “Just confirm our dinner plans for tonight at six.”

“And what do I tell him about Katrina?”

“Tell him he’ll have to call her.”

Debra nodded and started away, but then she abruptly turned back to face me. She stepped back inside, pulling the door closed so that we were cut off from the rest of the office. “Please don’t yell, but… Well, you’ve been in quite the mood, and I know Katrina has something to do with it, and…have you, uh, tried to get her back?”

I stopped mid-click on my mouse and turned my full attention to her. “Get her back? As in ask her to work here full-time?” I’d thought about it more than once, even before she’d found out about the closure of the Hartford branch. But I wasn’t sure that it was a good idea for us to keep working in the same office, for her or for me. And even if we could set some guidelines and figure out a better balance, she sure as hell didn’t want to work for me now.

Debra stuck a fist on her hip and sighed. “I’m old enough to be your mother, and I’m not stupid. If it takes asking her to work here, sure, do that, but I’m talking about more than work. I’m talking about how much better you are when she’s around—she balances you out, and you’ve been in a right grumpy mood since she left. Everyone else is too scared to say anything, and don’t get me wrong, I’m scared, but I’d rather be scared for a few minutes than a few months.”

I sat back in my seat and ran my hand through my hair. “How many people know? Is it juicy office gossip?” I found I couldn’t care less, even though I knew I should, but Kat would care, and if anyone tried to smear her name, they’d see just how scary I could be.

“I’m sure a few people suspect it, but no one’s said anything. I just noticed the way your eyes always go to her when she’s in the room. And then there was one night I stayed late, and well, you guys aren’t very…” She looked down and picked at an imaginary piece of lint. “Quiet.”

Instead of feeling ashamed or embarrassed, the memory of having her underneath me sent desire through me, followed immediately with a tormented longing I’d never experienced before. I missed the sex, sure, but I mostly missed Kat. The way she put things, and how she was soft where I was hard, whether we were talking business or pleasure.

The only time I’d ever truly left work at the office was when I was with her, and I missed the break that being with her brought to my life.

I also missed her smile and her laugh and her voice, and God, I missed the way she smelled. At the office, her perfume driving me crazy and giving me dirty flashbacks, or when she was snuggled next to me in bed, another thing I missed so fucking bad I thought it might consume me.

I’d tried to get through the last few days by not thinking about it, but it all came rushing at me now.

Debra shifted her weight from one foot to the other, reminding me that I wasn’t alone, and I quickly schooled my features. “Better get to that phone call.”

“Yes, sir. Better get to making yours.” With that, she left.

And I gave in to the desire to hear Kat’s voice in my ear. I dialed up her number, telling her to pick up, pick up, pick up…

“This is Kat, and yes my voicemail greeting is pretty generic, but instead of a beep, you get to leave a message at the meow. You’re welcome.” The electronic-tinged meow I’d heard way too fucking many times over the past few days sounded, and I scrubbed a hand over my face.

“I’m reaching the pathetic stage, Kat. And now your father’s calling the office, wondering why you’re not here, and I…” I wonder why you’re not here every fucking second of every fucking day. “I’m starting to worry.” As I said it, I realized how true it was. I could see her dodging my calls and creating a voodoo doll of me to stick pins in, but her father couldn’t reach her, either. What if something happened? “Call me back. Or hell, at least send a text or email letting me know you’re alive.”

I hung up and then stared at my phone screen. Since she didn’t immediately text back, I made an impulse decision and called up a friend, asking for a favor that was slightly unethical.

Then I turned back to my computer and forced myself to get back to work.

I had a big presentation to give tomorrow, and I wouldn’t let my personal life—or emotions I wish I didn’t have—get in the way of doing my job.

* * *

I arrived at the restaurant twenty minutes early. I couldn’t stop wondering if Kat would be with her father tonight. Maybe they’d finally talked, and they’d come here and ambush me.

If it meant seeing Kat, then bring it on. If I could just get my hands on her, I’d have a better chance of making her see that I didn’t have a choice. And while I told her that I cared about her—a big move for me—I knew it fell way short of describing how I felt about her. I’d made that promise to my mom, too, about telling Kat exactly how I felt and giving her all the facts.

Then again, what was the point of pouring my heart out? She lived in another city, and it wouldn’t change the fact that I was the asshole shutting down a company her family had run for decades. Those were big things to get over, and I didn’t even know how to have a relationship.

So why couldn’t I stop thinking about one? Why did my life suddenly seem dull and pointless?

The hostess brought Stu over to the table, and the first thing I noticed was that Kat wasn’t with him, because I noticed where Kat wasn’t all fucking day long.

I stood and shook his hand as we exchanged pleasantries. I watched his face, trying to read how much he knew and how he felt about it. Either he had the best poker face ever, or he was clueless.

How could that be?

Kat made a big deal about how she hadn’t signed the NDA. Is she planning something bigger?

The waitress came over and took our order, and I debated if I should tell him now, or wait until the end of dinner. I hated to spoil dinner and figured that letting him enjoy the best steak in town would be the kinder thing to do.

Since when do I care about kindness?

Not like I thought people should be assholes all the time, but now I was analyzing the right moment? What the fuck was happening to me? Clearly Kat got under my skin.

Remember Dad. Think about how everyone took advantage of his kindness. You chose to be a businessman, so now you have to own up to it and follow through.

“Thanks for meeting with me, Stu. I wanted to talk to you man-to-man before tomorrow’s meeting.”

Our food came, interrupting my plan to get on with it.

“And I wanted to personally thank you for helping me out by letting Katrina do that internship at your office,” he said. “Last time I talked to her, she told me she was learning a lot.”

This was it. When he’d drop the bomb that he was going to fight with everything he had, or sue me for trying to shut down his branch.

Nope, it was the moment he’d take a giant bite of his food and mumble about how good it was. In some ways, he reminded me of my dad. Friendly, open. Way too trusting—he’d sent his daughter to me, thinking I’d teach her to be a ruthless boss who could shape up his office. Instead I’d shown her just how ruthless I could be.

“When’s the last time you talked to Katrina?” I asked, watching his face.

“Today. Well, I got a text saying she wasn’t up to meeting for dinner. I haven’t talked to her since last Sunday.”

I was sick of dancing around things, and I’d gotten confirmation that she was healthy enough to text, so it was time to get on with it. “So, like I said, I wanted to talk about tomorrow’s meeting. I’ll be recommending shutting down your branch.” I narrowed my eyes. “But I’m sure you already know, or perhaps expected as much.”

His fork clattered against his plate, and he wiped his mouth with his cloth napkin. “How would I know that? And it’s definitely not expected.”

I didn’t want to drag Kat into it more than I already had.

Stu pressed his fingers against his temples, and I looked away so he’d have as much privacy as possible while he pulled himself together. “What about Katrina?” he asked, jerking my attention back to him. “What’ll happen to her? Is there an opening at your office, or any of the other ones? I know she’s green, but as I’m sure you saw, she’s amazing with numbers and a hard-worker. She’s been talking about working at my company since she was a little girl—I’m afraid this will crush her.”

His first thought was Kat. My first and last of the day were always her, too, but naturally this was different. This was a father who hadn’t asked what about his position and salary, but immediately shifted to ensuring his daughter would be taken care of. As for his fear, I was afraid the news had crushed her, as well as what was left of us.

Which was hard to figure out, since I didn’t even know for sure what exactly we had before.

I realized Stu was looking at me, waiting for me to answer his questions out loud instead of just in my head. “Kat-rina,” I quickly tacked on, “is amazing with numbers and is a hard-worker, just like you said. I’ll be happy to be one of her references, whether she wants a position in Boston, or if she wants to work somewhere closer to home.” The thought of her being so far away hit me again, punching a hole in my chest, and I worked to push through. “I know that your marketing company has been in your family for generations, and we’ve enjoyed working with you, so it’s unfortunate that it’s no longer fiscally realistic to do so, and I’m doing my best to give you and your employees the best severance package I can.”

It was a tricky balance of how much we could afford without cutting too much off our bottom line while keeping PR issues down and people from suing. Suddenly I didn’t want to go quite as low as I had before.

You’re going soft, Stone.

Maybe it was for the best that things went the way they did with Kat, because whenever she was around, making me see the bright side of things and reminding me what it felt like to be happy and content, I lost my edge.

And maybe if I kept telling myself that enough, I’d be able to actually believe it.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Kat

I stared out at the harbor Thursday near dusk, thinking that I’d liked it better before, when my rose-tinted glasses were on and I believed that someone like me could actually end up with someone like Jameson Stone. There’d been those nice few days when I convinced myself he cared about me as much as I cared about him.

A seagull landed on the rope next to me and squawked. My dad always said they were filthy birds who ate trash and spread diseases, and he often referred to them as air rats. Luckily for this guy, I thought seagulls weren’t that bad.

“I don’t have any food for you,” I said, “but I have some solid advice if you’re interested…”

The bird dared a step closer and gave another squawk.

“Never fall in love.” I’d avoided tacking on the love when I thought about how I’d fallen for Jameson because leaving it off made it seem safer for my heart, but it didn’t change the truth. I’d fallen head-over-heels in love, fast and crazy, regardless of logic telling me I shouldn’t, the way I’d always imagined falling in love—in real, true love—should be. “It’s not worth it. And when a guy tells you that he doesn’t do attachments, just believe him. Don’t go being an idiot, thinking that was before he knew you, and that things were changing, because that just leads to crying and talking to birds like some kind of crazy person.” Even saying it aloud made me feel like I’d lost something, even though what was done was already done.

The seagull took off with a flap of wings, obviously deciding I had only words and not food.

“Great, now I’m talking to myself. Thanks a lot, stupid air rat.”

“What was that?”

I turned to see an older lady.

“Oh, I was just talking to a bird. I’m not crazy,” I quickly clarified—you know, like super sane people do. “I know birds don’t talk. I just haven’t had anyone to talk to about my…I don’t even know if I can call it a breakup, but since I definitely feel broken, I’m going to say I can.”

“Men,” she said with a sigh. “Can’t live with them, can’t kill them.” She scratched her head and put on an expression of mock confusion. “Isn’t that the saying?”

I laughed, the first laugh or even hint of happiness I’d experienced in days. “I think it’s can’t live with them, can’t kill them unless you look good in prison orange.”

She chuckled. “Well, I happen to look amazing in orange.”

“Then I’ve got a guy that needs offing,” I said, then I clenched my jaw to stop my tears. “Actually, if you could just off him in my head so I could stop thinking about him, that’d be great.”

She put her hand over mine and squeezed. “That comes in time, dear. Unless he’s the guy. Then you sometimes have to overlook the fact that he’s a frustrating idiot and focus on how much better your life is with him in it—that’s how you know you’ve found the one. And if that’s the case, like I suspect it might be with you judging by the look in your eye at the briefest mention of him, you’ll find a way to work it out. Then you’ll only want to kill him once in a while, in the most loving way.”

“What stories are you telling people about me now?” An older gentleman approached, wrapped his arm around her, and kissed her cheek.

“It’s not always about you,” she said, but she broke into a wide grin that was aimed right at him. She slowly returned her attention to me. “You going to be okay, dear?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, thank you.” I tried to push away the longing that flooded me as I looked at them and wished things had turned out differently. My guy was definitely a frustrating idiot, but I wanted to overlook that because this past month had been the best month of my life. I learned how to be bolder and how to say what I wanted, and for a little while, I’d felt like I belonged. So even though things were too complicated and messy for Jameson and me to work things out—not to mention his aversion to long-term—I’d always be grateful for that. Even if I feared I’d also have to settle for vanilla sex and a heart that never quite beat right for the rest of my life. “You guys have a good day.”

My phone rang, and speak of the devil, it was from the office, except for not from Jameson’s usual line. I didn’t dare answer. No, I preferred to torture myself by listening to his voicemail messages after he left them, replaying them again and again so I could hear his voice, even as I hated how weak it made me feel.

As soon as my message chime went off, I listened to the voicemail. It was Debra, saying she just wanted to check in and to tell me that Jameson wasn’t himself, and she thought I should know, even if he was too stubborn to tell me.

I had no idea how she even knew something like that, but I didn’t doubt that she did.

Actually, that wasn’t true. She reminded me of Lisa, our receptionist at the home office, like companies only hired a certain type for that job, and they had this crazy sixth sense, where they knew everything about everyone in the office.

Like how she knew that Neil and I were on our way to breaking up, even before I did.

In twenty-four hours, there’s not going to be a home office, not for long.

Here I was feeling sorry for myself and several people—people I’d known my whole life—were going to lose their jobs. It was time to stop moping. To pick myself up, brush off the dust, and be bold.

I wasn’t going to give up on my career and let all Jameson’s helpful training go to waste. I needed to put together my own presentation and fight back. I had to at least try.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Jameson

I stepped off the elevator and into the front part of the office, my thoughts on the presentation and numbers I knew backward and forward.

“Some of the board members have already arrived,” Debra said from behind her seat at the reception desk. “I sat them in the conference room and gave them coffee.”

“Thanks.”

“Did you happen to…think about what we discussed yesterday? About a certain someone who used to work here?”

“You have a funny definition of we and discussed.” I wished I could tell her that her words changed me, but she was appealing to my emotions, and at work, I didn’t have any. “Let me know when everyone’s arrived.”

“Yes, Mr. Stone.”

What really got to me was last night. After Stu and I had parted ways, I’d walked the few blocks to Savor in need of a strong drink and a friendly face. But what happened instead was that Ben had come over and excitedly asked if Kat was with me. I’d told him she wasn’t, and never would be again, and he’d given me a look of such strong disappointment, you’d think I had told him that I’d ridded the world of puppies.

“You’re not seriously going to let her get away, are you?” he’d asked, and I’d clenched my jaw, realizing that I should’ve at least tried to hide my reaction to the mention of her name. So I decided to just get it all out and over and done with, so I could try to move on. “She chose to leave. She can’t deal with what it takes to run a business, and when I tried to get her to sign the NDA, she freaked.”

“Freaked? Of course she did. You basically told her you don’t trust her. You’re lucky she wasn’t pissed.”

“I wouldn’t go saying she was unpissed.”

Ben shook his head. “I can’t believe you took Nate’s advice on that. He doesn’t understand love or trust, or anything besides being the best at his job. Someday he’ll meet a woman who makes him rethink everything, and he’ll get it, the way you finally did with Kat.”

“Well, I got it, and now I feel like shit all the time, and I’d like to go back to the way it was before.”

“There’s no before,” Ben had said, his voice quiet and dripping of personal experience. “That’s the thing about love. It changes everything.”

That line had stuck with me since he’d spoken it last night, buzzing in my ear like an annoying gnat that wouldn’t go away, no matter how hard I swiped at it. It can’t change everything. I won’t let it.

I walked into my office and set my laptop bag on my desk. If I tried hard enough, I would get back to who I used to be, starting with doing what needed to be done at the meeting.

My phone rang in my pocket and I pulled it out.

It was my mom, and I knew that she’d mention Kat. Then she’d be the next person to tell me how stupid I was to let her get away—never mind the fact that she left and she wasn’t calling me back, and she was the one who’d crashed into my life and made it seem brighter for a little while.

She was the one who haunted my dreams.

My every waking thought.

My intercom buzzed, and Debra’s voice came through. “Everyone’s in the conference room.”

“I’ll be right there.” I grabbed the flash drive with all the information I needed to make my presentation, stood and buttoned the middle button on my suitcoat, and then strode toward the conference room.

I’d just rounded the corner, the glass windows giving me a view of half of the board members, when my phone chimed with an email.

I almost ignored it, then decided to check, just in case it was urgent.

When I saw Kat’s name, I stopped dead in my tracks. My pulse rushed through my head. I turned my back to the conference room and tapped my screen to open it.

Hey,

I feel stupid starting an email like this with “hey,” but putting “Mr. Stone,” or even “Jameson,” looked so formal and at odds with what this email is, and how I feel sending it. You demanded that I at least let you know if I was alive in your last voicemail, and as this message makes pretty obvious, I am. I’m alive, but sometimes it doesn’t feel like it anymore. Maybe admitting that I cared about you enough that I feel sad and broken without you makes me weak, but in my defense, my boss didn’t get a chance to finish my training or that procedure to replace my heart with a robotic one.

That’s supposed to be a joke. In case it’s not obvious. Yeah, I didn’t laugh when I typed it, either, but not much makes me laugh these days, not the way you did. Honestly, I had this grand plan to come charging into your meeting today, wearing one of those super impressive power suits. Only I’d wear a power skirt since you taught me a tight skirt can be a thousand times more powerful. I was even planning on testing just how short I could go, just so I’d at least get the board members’ attention, even if for the wrong reasons at first. ’Cause everything is fair when it comes to business, right. Use what you got and whatnot.

I could picture the scene in my mind, and I went ahead and made Kat’s skirt short and tight, the kind that had driven me crazy from day one. I glanced over my shoulder at the windows of the conference room, noticing a few people fidgeting. I even tried to get a peek at the whole room, just in case she’d followed through with her plan. I didn’t see her, and I didn’t want them to see me yet. I needed to finish this email first, even though it was making my chest feel raw.

But I racked my brain until the sun came up this morning, searching for that magical answer that would fix things. I thought it’d be like in the movies, you know when a lightning strike of genius hits last minute and the unlikely hero saves the day? I’d be the hero. The person who saves the jobs of all the people in the Hartford branch.

I even tried to think of some new innovative thing that would blow the lid off the industry. But I guess that lid’s already been blown, probably by people like you. Or even you—I have no doubt you’ll always come out on top. You, who taught me how to be bolder and gave me the courage to finish my sentences and say what I want—I’ll always be grateful for that.

As you’ve probably guessed, no matter how hard I tried, those damn numbers wouldn’t tell me what I wanted them to. You were right. Business wins. And that’s okay, because I’m more passionate about people, so I’m going to try to find a job that helps me focus on that.

Goodbye, Jameson. Give em hell and all that.

Xoxo

Kat

“Mr. Stone.”

I lowered my phone and spun, finding Debra staring at me. “Is everything okay? The natives are getting restless.” She tipped her head toward the conference room.

“Just taking care of a few last-minute things. I’m going in now.” I exhaled and then lifted my chin and walked into the conference room, my strides strong and steady, and took my place at the head of the table. “I know we’re all short for time, so I’ll make this as quick as possible…”

I skimmed my gaze over the audience, cataloging names and positions. Stu Taylor was among them, and he looked resigned and somber. At least I’d done the right thing and given him a heads up instead of bombarding him with the news at this meeting, no warning.

I pulled out my flash drive with all the stats and numbers that Kat had no doubt run and run last night. I pictured her sitting cross-legged on her couch, that determined look on her face as she searched for a way to save her dad’s branch.

Suddenly one of the lines from Kat’s email popped into my head. I’m alive, but sometimes it doesn’t feel like it anymore. Hell, I knew exactly what she meant. Being in front of a group, ready to show off what I could do used to be a huge high for me, something I could get as passionate about as a preacher in the middle of a lively sermon.

But I didn’t feel an ounce of excitement.

Dread stood in its place instead, along with a healthy dose of missing Kat.

If this meeting went the way I’d planned on it going, I’d probably miss her forever.

The heart that she’d teased me had been replaced with a robotic one knotted, misery seeping from the hole Kat left, and it hit me, the thing I’d tried to deny since she’d walked out of my office Monday. Possibly even from the day she’d first walked into it. I loved her. I loved her, and I was about to lose her. She might’ve been the one to storm out, but this would be slamming the door on us for good.

I couldn’t close that door. I didn’t want it to be over. The thought of going all in with Kat and calling her mine didn’t scare me, it called to me. I had to fix things between us, even if I crashed and burned. I’d regret it forever if I didn’t at least try.

I cleared my throat and looked at the sea of expectant faces. “I’m so sorry. I can’t do this without my assistant. I need to push back the meeting.”

It was unprofessional and 100 percent emotion-driven, and I didn’t give a shit. Kat was more important.

“You can’t run the presentation on your own?” Mr. Williams, one of the older, grouchier board members asked with a huff.

“I can, but I won’t because I’d rather take the time to get it right. Something new has come to light, and I need time to analyze what exactly it means.”

They didn’t need to know that the something was realizing just how in love I was with Kat, and that it might change everything.

Even the way I did business.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Kat

After staying up all night and catching a power nap, I decided to walk around Boston and say goodbye to the place before climbing into my car and making the drive home. The plan was to hit the road before the news broke about the Hartford Branch, that way I could use the excuse of “I was driving” to avoid the endless phone calls that would inevitably flood in. Dad might still be the boss at the office, but a lot of people called me when they wanted information since I was more likely to answer.

At first, I was just going to stare out at the harbor a few minutes, the way I’d done yesterday, but I found myself wandering toward the New England Aquarium. Stepping inside was so bittersweet. This was part of Jameson’s and my first official date. It was where I’d seen a little deeper into who he was—who he could be if he let himself think about something besides work for just a little while.

It was the day I knew that I was a goner; the day I’d dared to hope.

Hope was beating me up a bit lately. I’d had it yesterday evening, and I’d poured through reports and charts and added and subtracted figures until the wee hours of the morning, trying to find a way to save the Hartford Branch. It sucked that I hadn’t found one, but in a lot of ways, running the numbers again and again had been good for me.

It showed me that Jameson wasn’t just being a ruthless businessman. Our branch had consistently lost money, and I wondered why Dad never told me how bad it’d gotten. Didn’t he realize that between figuring out a way to fix how much money we were hemorrhaging and learning how to be a bolder boss, getting our company out of the red would’ve been more important?

Not that I’d give up this past month for anything, but still. If I’d taken over, I’m sure everyone would say I ran the company into the ground, even though it was flattened before I even had a chance to take the helm.

I stopped at the giant tunnel part of the aquarium and stared at the giant grouper I’d dubbed the Godfather of the Sea. “I feel less vengeful than yesterday, so I won’t ask you to whack anyone, but you wouldn’t happen to have any advice on how exactly to move on, would you? I mean, you’ve probably seen a lot of your fishy friends come and go through the years.”

The aquarium was nearly empty this time of day, so I didn’t have to worry about people thinking I was crazy. Today I was letting that flag fly.

Naturally, the Grouper didn’t answer. He just hovered, his fins moving as he looked around at the nearby fish like he was suspicious of everyone.

A “trust no one” motto might keep me from getting hurt again, but it wasn’t me. From now on, I was going to try my hardest to be the best version of me. Someone who was kind and understanding but didn’t let herself get walked over.

And part of that was thanks to Jameson.

My phone rang, and my heart stopped beating as I wondered if he was calling again. I didn’t think I could resist answering this time. I’d meant that email as my final goodbye, but I wished I could have a better one with him, even though it’d also hurt like hell.

Steeling myself, I pulled the phone from the pocket of my sundress. It’s just Dad. Of course it wasn’t Jameson. He was running the board meeting right now. Then again, Dad should be there, too, because there was no way it only took…I glanced at the time—fifteen minutes.

I glanced around to make sure I was alone enough to not bother anyone with a phone call and then answered. “Hey, Dad. Are you okay?” I felt a little guilty I hadn’t warned him about the branch closing, but I would’ve felt guilty telling him, too. My loyalties had gotten all tangled up, along with everything else.

“I’m fine,” he said. “It’s been a strange couple of days. JT took me to dinner last night and told me he was going to recommend closing our branch to the board, but at the meeting, he told us he needed to postpone. The board members are all grumbling.”

I clenched my phone tighter and bit my lip. “And what’s Jameson doing?”

“Trying to find his girl so he can beg her to give him another chance,” a deep voice said from behind me, and I jumped, my phone slipping out of my hand and falling to the floor.

Jameson scooped it up and extended it to me. I vaguely noticed the screen wasn’t cracked, but I didn’t get a close look because I couldn’t stop staring at the guy standing across from me, noting the same things I did the first time I met him. Dark hair, a little less perfectly styled than usual, blue eyes so clear you could practically see yourself swimming in them, although they also showed strains of stress, and one of those dimples in the chin that made you want to run your tongue over it—and boy, had I.

A giant lump rose in my throat and settled there. “I’m pretty sure delirium is kicking in. I thought I woke up from my nap, but I must still be asleep.”

“And this would be a good dream or a nightmare?” He rubbed the side of his neck, looking unsure for the first time ever.

“I guess it depends on what happens next.” I realized my dad was still on my phone and told him I’d call him back before disconnecting and slipping it in my pocket. “My dad just told me that you postponed your big meeting.”

“I did.” Jameson slowly reached up and trailed his fingertips across my cheekbone, almost as if he wanted to make sure I was real, and it was all I could do to not throw my arms around him and melt into him it felt so damn good.

“This is like torture,” I said, trying to swallow and finding it impossible. “Being this close, knowing that we’re over…”

He cupped my cheek and shook his head. “But we’re not over.”

“Jameson.” A sharp pain went through my chest, and I blinked at the tears trying to form. “You weren’t supposed to… This is just making it…” My brain was having trouble finding the right sentence because all of them were sadder than I wanted them to be. “Wait. How did you even find me?”

“I, uh, just had this feeling like you’d be here.”

I lowered my eyebrows, packing the skepticism I felt into the look I shot him.

“Fine,” he said. “I called in a favor to a friend and had him put a trace on your cell phone. I just needed to know you were okay, and then…well, I needed to talk to you, and it couldn’t wait. It worked out nicely that the aquarium’s so close to the office.”

“Yeah, well, it seemed like a good place to be alone with my thoughts. Not that I’m completely alone. Lately I’ve been talking to a lot of creatures. Seagulls, fish…” I looked him up and down. “The devil incarnate.”

“Funny.”

“I thought so,” I said, but then I cracked, and a tear ran down my cheek.

“Shit, Kat. Please don’t cry.” Jameson wiped the tear away with his thumb. “I already feel like the biggest asshole, and knowing I made you cry? Well, I’m about to reenact a scene from Fight Club and kick my own ass.”

“Hey, why do you get all the fun? I want in on that action.”

“Go ahead,” he said, spreading his arms wide.

All that did was make me want to hug him, but then I’d forget that this wasn’t going to work, so I hugged my arms around myself instead. “I can’t do this. I can’t set myself up to get hurt all over again. I won’t. So we’ll call this ending on a positive note. We can say a proper goodbye where we wish each other the best with wherever our lives take us. Then I’ll go back to my life, and you’ll go back to yours, and once in a while, we’ll cross each other’s minds, and we’ll smile and go on with our days.”

“That’s bullshit,” he said, his voice snapping in the stern, no-nonsense voice he used during meetings. “There’s no going back to life, at least not for me. You got to say your piece in that email, but you didn’t give me a chance to say mine. I’m not a robot. Anyway, not since you came into my life. And honestly, I don’t know what to do with all these fucking feelings—”

A woman gave us a shocked look and pushed her children by us in a hurry.

“Sorry,” Jameson muttered, then he dragged me to a more secluded corner. “Because of what happened with my dad, I’ve always looked at feelings as a weakness, one I couldn’t afford. I worked so hard to shut them down that when I couldn’t, I didn’t know what to do with them. But I have them. For you. They’re overwhelming and frustrating and amazing at the same time, and I postponed that meeting because I didn’t want to risk doing anything that would make it impossible for us to be…us.”

“And what are we? Do you even know?”

Jameson backed me up until I was flat against the thick plexiglass. “You’re mine, and I’m yours.”

My heart clenched, trying to block off the rising hope that would make the fall that came afterward even more devastating. I glanced down because it was too hard to look at his face. “Are you sure you don’t just miss your sex toy?”

“Don’t do that,” he said, tipping my chin up and locking eyes with me. “You know that you’re way more than that to me. You’re the first thing I think about in the morning and the last thing I think about as I drift off to sleep. I can’t stop thinking about you, and I don’t want to.”

He crowded even closer, so close that my chest bumped into his every time I took a shallow breath that never seemed to reach my lungs. “You once said that you thought people only had so much passion to spread around, and you had to choose. I think you can have a lot of passion for a lot of different things. But there’s definitely one thing I’m more passionate about than anything else, and that’s you. I choose you. I need you.” He slid his hand behind my neck, his blue, blue eyes boring into me. “I love you.”

The rest of the room spun out of focus, and I reached up and wrapped my hand around his arm, needing him to keep me steady. “You do?”

He nodded and rested his forehead against mine. “I do. It took me by surprise, just like you did. I want you next to me when I’m watching TV. I want you cuddled up next to me at night. I just want you, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make us work.” He brushed his lips across mine. “Say you want me, too, Kat.”

I blinked back tears. “I want you, too.”

“Then we’ll work out the rest.” He slanted his mouth over mine, parting my lips with his tongue and kissing me with a feverish urgency that echoed through me.

“Dream,” I whispered, and he pulled back and looked me in the eye.

“What?”

“You asked if it was a dream or nightmare, and it’s definitely a dream. The best kind of dream.” I wrapped my arms around him, molding my body to his. “And I love you, too.”

He didn’t waste any time boosting me in his arms and kissing me like he planned on making up for all the kisses we’d missed, and I was fully onboard and then some.

Chapter Forty

Jameson

Cool relief flowed through me, the need to have Kat coming right on its heels. She loved me. I loved her. That was all that mattered, and I stroked my tongue over hers, taking a taste of what I’d been missing the past few days.

The loud clearing of a throat reminded me we weren’t exactly in a private location. I glanced over to see a troop of Boy Scouts, and I swear one of them gave me a head nod.

Okay, so they’d seen some kissing, and a considerable amount of Kat’s legs, but a few more seconds and there would’ve been some serious groping. In fact, that was the plan. I just needed to get Kat out of here as quickly as possible.

I lowered Kat to her feet and pointed to the left of us. “That big fish right there is a grouper. He’s the Godfather of the Sea.” So that was a little more Kat’s opinion than a fact, but I thought it fit, and even better, it had the desired effect of transferring the kids’ attention to the aquarium instead of us.

They crowded closer to the glass to get a better look, and I slipped my hand down to Kat’s, laced my fingers with hers, and led her out of the aquarium.

The yacht was the closest available place to do what I needed to do and get my hands and mouth on Kat. Afterward, we’d find a solution for the Hartford branch, so totally a good use of a company-owned-boat. If they wanted a genius plan, I needed to slake this lust first.

I tugged her toward the dock where the boat floated in the water and helped her onboard, my hands on her hips. Then my lips found hers again. I backed her up against the nearest surface, the wall of the main room. I ground against her, growing harder as she arched against me, and the need to sink between her thighs took over.

I kissed her neck and then moved my lips next to her ear. “About that sex toy thing…? Is that totally off the table?” I moved my hand up the inside of her leg, groaning when I reached her panties and discovered how damp they were.

“I think we can negotiate on that…” Her head dropped back when I slipped a finger underneath the silky fabric and stroked her. She moaned and whispered, “point.”

I opened the door, boosted her into my arms, and carried her inside. The large couch was the closest surface, so I laid her back on it, my tongue rolling over hers as I pushed her flowy little skirt up her thighs.

I didn’t have the patience to pull down her panties after too many days of going without her, so I hooked my finger around the tiny string holding them up and gave a quick jerk. They tore with a satisfying rip, and I tossed them aside. I dragged a couple of fingers over her slick pussy, spreading her wetness and circling her clit, again and again until she was panting and writhing underneath me.

I leaned over her and kissed her roughly on the mouth as I continued stroking her into a wild frenzy. “That’s it. I like you nice and needy for me. Tell me what you need, Kat.”

“I need you to get me off,” she said through ragged breaths. “I need the kind of mind-blowing orgasm that only you can give me.”

“Only me. Say it again.”

“Only you.”

I rewarded her by plunging a finger inside her, finding that spot that drove her wild. I moved my thumb over her clit, applying enough pressure that she bucked against my hand.

“Jameson.”

“That’s it, baby.” Our connection crackled between us as I peered into her pretty face. This time between us was different. We’d crossed into new territory, and it intensified every sensation, every feeling, every emotion. I loved her and she loved me, and I couldn’t wait to keep on exploring just how good we could be together. To spend my days and nights with her. “This is how it’s always going to be—just you and me, from now on. We can take on the world together.”

I added another finger, and her walls clamped down. I moved my lips over hers to muffle the sounds of her cry as an orgasm took hold and rocketed through her.

Once her breaths slowed, her half-lidded eyes lifted to me. “I need…”

I raised an eyebrow. “Finish that sentence, or I’ll be forced to punish you.”

She sat up enough to peel her dress over her head and tossed it onto the floor. “I need you inside me.” She reached back and undid her bra, exposing those perfect breasts. “I need you to fuck me, hard and fast.”

Holy shit.

A second later, I had another holy shit thought, and it wasn’t the good kind. “I don’t have a condom. Let me see if—”

“I have an IUD, so the birth control is already covered, so if you want to…I trust you.”

“You’re saying…?” I swallowed and ran my hand down her body, imagining how amazing it was going to feel with nothing between us. “Hell yeah, I want to.”

“Hurry up with it, then. I need you inside me now.” She arched her hips up and rubbed herself against me, causing black dots to dance across my vision.

I was going to reprimand her and tell her to be patient, but I couldn’t wait one more fucking second.

I slid inside her, growling at how amazing she felt. “You fit me so perfectly, Kat. In every way.” I laced my fingers with hers and pinned her hands above her head so I could look down at every inch of her sexy body as I rode her, fast and hard like she’d demanded.

Amazing sensations zipped through my body, one after another. My balls tightened and I gritted my teeth, determined to keep my grip on my control until she’d had her fill.

“Right…there…Yes, yes, yes.” She shuddered, her orgasm taking over her body, and I drove into her tight pussy again and again, making sure she got every ounce of pleasure possible.

Then I let go of my control.

We fell to the couch, a mess of tangled, sweaty limbs. I curled her close as I worked to catch my breath.

“Say you’re mine again,” Kat said, dragging her fingertips over my lips.

I kissed them and then slipped my hand over her hip, fitting her to me. “I’m yours. I’ll always be yours.”

Epilogue

Kat

“A Mr. Stone is here to see you.”

My stomach completed a somersault, and I worked to keep my voice even. “Send him on in.”

I turned to Sarah to finish our conversation, the last thing on my to-do list for today—well, on my work to-do list. “I need that to hit my inbox by tomorrow by three at the very latest.”

“But I’m supposed to have dinner with my boyfriend tonight, and—”

I pursed my lips and gave her the stern look I’d finally perfected. Part of me still wanted to say oh, well, then go ahead and take another day. Enjoy being in love and all that jazz. But then I’d be the one under duress, and the clients wouldn’t care why, just that I wasn’t ready on the date I told them it’d be. “If you did it the way I asked the first time, you’d have time to do that. I guess the question is, do I need to give this project to someone else, or can you handle it?”

She swallowed. “I can handle it.” She didn’t exactly look happy about it, but she gathered her stuff, pausing to check out Jameson as he neared the open doorway of my office.

Not that I blamed her. He always looked sexy, but his bright cornflower blue tie made his blue eyes even bluer, and the lines of his suit spoke of his athletic build and power all at the same time. He always managed to suck every ounce of air out of a room, and he did it in a way that made you glad to struggle to catch your breath.

Sarah nodded and rushed past him, head down. He glanced after her, then looked at me. “Good job.”

“I’m sure I did a good job, but which job are we talking about?”

“You just had to lay down the law with your employee, I can tell. And she left slightly affronted but also determined—the perfect combination.”

“Well, I had a good teacher.” I twisted my blinds to shut off the view of my office and closed the door, double-checking it was locked. Then I gestured to the chair across from my desk. “Have a seat, Mr. Stone, and we can get started.”

He reached for me as I started past him and I shot him the same stern look I’d used moments ago. “Didn’t you hear me? Have. A. Seat.”

His eyes darkened, and then he sat in the chair I’d indicated.

Through a lot of brainstorming and work, we’d managed to save about a third of the jobs in the Hartford branch. It wasn’t the magical miracle that happened in the movies, but at least the people who were pulling their weight were rewarded. Several families had to relocate, but that was life, even if I wished it was a little easier, sunnier, and fairer once in a while.

Jameson offered me a marketing position at his office, but the power balance would’ve been off, and let’s face it, we could only use his office as our sexual playground for so long before it got out of hand. Another marketing firm offered me the manager position I was in now, and once in a while I even consulted on a few of Jameson’s accounts.

Balance was the name of the game.

I perched on my desk, held up a finger, and glanced at the clock. Three, two, one… Six o’ clock on the dot. My intercom buzzed. “Is there anything else before I head home?” Lisa asked. I’d pilfered one of the Hartford branch’s employees so she could come work with me, and she was happy to relocate to Boston, saying she needed a fresh start.

“No, thank you. Have a good night.”

“See you tomorrow—oh, and I’m bringing cupcakes so we can celebrate landing that new account.”

“I’ll grab the wine.” We had to celebrate the wins, after all. With it officially past quitting time, I turned my full attention to my sexy boyfriend, ready to get back to business. “Now, where were we?”

I rested one of my heeled feet on his knee, and his harsh exhale made it clear he’d discovered the fact that I wasn’t wearing any underwear under this skirt.

He wrapped his large hand around my calf, his fingers digging into the skin.

Okay, so balance these days meant sometimes his office and sometimes mine. Sometimes at his place and sometimes at mine. For the most part, we tried to keep it to after hours. I say tried because we weren’t the most patient duo when it came to waiting.

“I’m afraid that this business arrangement isn’t going to work out,” Jameson said, leaning forward in his seat, his fingers still wrapped around my calf. He smoothed his other hand over my thigh, his fingers breeching the hem of my skirt. “Clearly you think you’re in control, and baby…” He dragged his fingers, tortuously close to where I needed them, and my heart beat erratically in my chest. “Tonight, I am.”

Using his grip, he tugged me closer, until I was right on the edge of the desk. “Spread ’em.”

I did as he asked, and when he pressed a kiss to the inside of my thigh, my head lolled back. I drove my fingers through his hair as his mouth came over my center. With every lick, I moved closer to the euphoric haze I sought.

And then the phone rang.

“I must’ve forgotten to put it on do not disturb—just ignore it.”

Jameson’s gaze met mine. “Answer it.” He dragged his fingers over the lips of my pussy, and I bucked. “Do it now, or you don’t get to finish.”

I blindly reached for the phone and cleared my throat. “Hello?”

Jameson dragged his tongue over me, his soft lips and a hint of scruff making a deadly combination.

“I couldn’t remember if you wanted me to put the words at the top or the bottom of the image,” Sarah said.

I bit my lip to stifle my moan. Jameson and his magic tongue were making it hard to put thoughts together.

“Top,” I said. “I want it on top. Goodbye.” I slammed the phone down. I was going to give Jameson a dirty look, but then he sucked me into his mouth, and my orgasm slammed into me. He slowly brought me back down, and then he shed his clothes. “You said something about wanting to be on top.”

I lowered myself onto his lap. He was hard and ready for me, but I decided he needed some teasing after making me answer the phone. I dragged myself over him, fighting back against his grip on my thighs.

“You make me fucking crazy,” he said, crushing his lips to mine, and then I lost the battle. But when he brought my hips down to meet his, filling me so perfectly and hitting that spot deep inside, I decided that I’d still won.

I was having trouble getting enough leverage to move the way I wanted to, though. “I can’t—”

Like he’d read my mind, he shifted forward and then lowered me to the ground. He covered my body with his, then I arched, and he thrust, and we moved together until we both tumbled over the edge.

The carpet was much scratchier than our sheets, and I had a fleeting thought about trying to re-carpet—I should probably work at a place for longer than two months before I demanded it be remodeled, though.

Jameson curled me to him, and I rested my head on his shoulder, enjoying the drag of his fingers on my back.

“Hungry?” I asked.

“Mm-hm,” he said, nuzzling my neck. “Sex with you always leaves me famished.”

“You want to go somewhere? Or do you want to order in?”

“I want to go home.” He pushed himself up onto his elbow, facing me. “And I want you to be there.”

“Okay.” I ran my hand down the side of his face. “The plan was to ride home with you anyway.”

“I mean that when I say ‘let’s go home,’ I want it to be the same place. I want to fall asleep with you in my arms and wake up next to you, and even driving fifteen minutes to see you is too long.” He pushed his fingers into my hair and then brought me closer and brushed his lips over mine. “Will you move in with me?”

My heart expanded in my rib cage, and I threw myself at him, giving him an attack-hug, kiss sort-of-thing.

“Is that a yes?” he asked, his low chuckle filling my ear.

“That’s a yes.” I melted into him, dragging the kiss out. “It’s definitely a yes.”

Acknowledgments

Thanks to my readers for picking up my book! You all rock! I have several author friends who’ve helped me with this process—thanks G, Bex, & Mel! I never could’ve done this without you. Big thanks to ABC for copyediting, Okay Creations for my awesome cover, and Linda Russell at Foreword PR & Marketing for all the publicity help, and for always being there when I need you. I heart all of you!

About the Author

Cynthia Page loves making people laugh and blush, and has enough encounters of the awkward kind to inspire plenty of both. She’s a wife, mom, and full-time writer of steamy romantic comedies. She’s addicted to happily-ever-afters in books, movies, and real life.

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