Compromising Positions (An Erotic Romance Novel) (7 page)

He could even see the pink of a lonely nipple peeking through the lace. It needed a kiss.

He bit his lip. Damn it, he wanted to taste her! Just one lick.

But how chivalrous would that be?

He sighed, frustrated, nursing a set of blue balls, and forced himself to finish the job. He had to reach around her back to unzip her skirt, and that left him painfully aware of how she smelled, how she felt in his arms, how soft her skin was and how sweet she was rumpled and sleeping. With a groan, he unzipped her skirt, stood at the foot of the bed, turned his head and pulled.

He wouldn’t look. That would be the end of him.

Okay, maybe just one tiny look.

Holy shit! Black lace thong? His gaze riveted there, at the black V between her legs, then wandered upward.

She smiled in her sleep and rolled onto her side, jutting that delectable ass out. Black lace disappeared between two round, firm cheeks. He could touch them. He could bite them. He could do a lot of things to them.

But damn it all, he wouldn’t! At least not tonight.

Time for a cold shower.

Mothers always know the most inopportune times to call.

The next morning, a mild hangover was the least of Fate’s regrets. Sure, she hadn’t done much with Gabe…at least she didn’t think she had. Last she remembered she’d kept her clothes on. But waking up completely—okay, almost—naked was a big surprise. The kind of shocker that sends a person running for the bathroom to check things out. She hadn’t been that drunk last night, had she? Surely she’d remember if they’d fucked!

Then again, maybe the dreams still fresh in her mind hadn’t been dreams at all…

Shit! She checked her whole body for signs of lovemaking, love bites, anything. Finding nothing, she showered, dressed, and waited for Gabe to pick her up for work, the whole time a pleasant ache pulsing between her legs.

He’d undressed her. That thought alone turned her on.

She stretched away a bit of stiffness in her neck and gazed out the living room window. Still no Gabe. She glanced at the clock. Seven-twenty. Where was he? Had he forgotten? Was he feeling so rotten for what he’d done last night—which was nothing, she guessed—that he couldn’t face her today?

She stared at the street, somewhat comforted when she spied the sexy black car prowling toward her driveway. In one swoop, she grabbed her purse, briefcase, and lunch and headed for the door, meeting Gabe on the front porch.

He smiled. “Morning. How’re you feeling?”

“I’m okay. Swallowed half a bottle of Tylenol, but otherwise, I think I’ll live.”

“You did?”

“I’m kidding. Honest.”

He glanced at his watch. “Sorry I’m late.”

“It’s okay. At least I won’t be the only one late to work.”

“We won’t be late. Promise.” He dropped behind her as she walked, a hand resting at the small of her back. The seemingly innocent contact sent her heart into a wild gallop.

“There’s another one of those promises,” she teased, glancing over her shoulder as she dropped into the passenger seat. Her gaze was met with a very warm one in return.

“I kept my word last night.”

“You did?” Guess she had her answer, sort of. “I mean, yes, you did.” A smidge of disappointment settled in her gut. She watched him walk around the front of the car, and heat spread through her body as he slipped into the seat next to her. His hand gripped the stick shift as he shifted into reverse and backed out of the driveway. She watched him orchestrate the movement of legs and hands as he drove. “I’ve never driven a stick. Is it hard?”

“Depends upon how you grab it. Wanna check for yourself?” He motioned toward his lap.

She rolled her eyes, hoping to hide her sudden case of guilt for manhandling his ‘stick’ last night, and smiled. “Seriously.”

He sighed. “Just a little tricky at first. Some cars are harder, only because the clutch can be difficult to press in. This car’s a breeze to drive.”

She nodded and watched familiar houses drift by as they neared the main road. “Thanks again for driving me home last night. You were right. I guess I wasn’t in any condition to drive.”

“No problem. There’s no way I’d let a friend drive like that.”

“So, we’re friends now?”

He glanced at her. “You mean we weren’t before?”

She laughed. He was such a knucklehead. A delightful, funny, sexy goof. “Not in my book.”

“Damn! You were on my Christmas card list.”

She chuckled. “Then why didn’t I get a card this past Christmas?”

“I didn’t send anyone a card. I’m terrible with those kinds of things. Someday, when I get married, my wife’ll have to handle that, or we’ll be disowned by our friends and family for sure.”

The picture of him married with a house full of kids sent another chuckle into her throat. “You? Married?”

“Hey, it could happen.” He stopped at a red light and gave her a heart-stopping smile. “You don’t think I’m marriage material?”

“Not at all.” Maybe prime beef for a nighttime romp…

“Why’s that?” He shifted the car into gear and it rocketed away from the intersection, leaving the other cars behind in the dust.

“You’re too racy, just like your Vette.”

“It’s all show.”

She studied his profile, wondering if he was telling her the truth, or just telling her what he thought she might like to hear. “I don’t believe that for a minute.”

“Well, then I’ll just have to prove it to you. I think I’m headed in the right direction. Last night, for one, should give you at least an inkling. You passed out cold. I could have stayed at your place, stripped naked, and probably gotten some—“

A current of heat shot to her face, and a few rivulets wandered down to her belly. “Whoa! What are you talking about?”

“I know you wanted it. No use denying it.”

“What I wanted had nothing to do with the it you’re thinking of.”

Gabe shook his head. “I guess I had you pegged wrong. I didn’t think you were the kind to deny your own sexuality. Thought you were a little more aware than that.”

Her face couldn’t get any hotter. She turned from him and rested ice-cold fingers on her flaming cheeks. “I am aware.”

“Then why lie?” He stopped the car at another red light. And as she glanced at him, she caught his gaze wandering over her form. Slow and lazy, yet intense at the same time. It was the kind of gaze a man gave a woman when he wanted “some.”

And it was working…

She crossed her legs, imagining how he would feel resting between them. She loved the weight of a man, solid and hot, on top of her.

Her mouth went dry. Her heart pounded in her ears. That familiar throb settled in her crotch. Damn it! How would she work like this?

“Can we talk about something else?”

He drove away from the light, and she was grateful when she spied the building up the street. “Sure.”

Thank God!

They pulled into the parking lot, and Fate retrieved her purse, briefcase, and lunch from the floor before stepping from the car. She made a beeline for her office, noting the unfamiliar face at the reception desk in the lobby.

Damn it! She’d forgotten about Julie. In her place at the Chrome Throne stood a blonde with boobs that had to have set her back at least ten grand and a face that had to cost her at least double that. Fate nodded a greeting at the woman and headed upstairs, listening to Gabe’s animated voice behind her.

Evidently, Gabe knew Miss Plastic Surgery.

Why did that bother her so much?

Up above, she stood on the balcony and watched him chatter with the woman. She really was gorgeous, in that Baywatch blond bombshell sort of way.

Racy. That woman was racy.

Gabe said he liked racy.

She bumped into something with her shoulder. She turned.

Michael smiled at her. “Morning, Fate. How’re you feeling?”

“I’m fine.”

“I had a great time last night. We should do it again sometime.”

“Sure.”

“Well, gotta go. I’ve got a ton of work to catch up on.”

“What work?” She hadn’t given him anything since last week, and with the company change, those reports wouldn’t be needed.

“Gabe gave me some things to follow up on. I have a list.” He waved a manila file at her.

“He did?” When had he found the time? Was he already trying to show her up? “What kinds of things?”

“Just some market research stuff. Competitors and such.”

“Okay. Just do me a favor. Give me a copy of everything when you’re done.”

“Will do, Fate.” He hurried toward the stairs, catching Gabe at the bottom.

Fate watched them talk. Couldn’t make out a word. She’d never make it as a lip reader.

What was Gabe up to? Trust him? Her ass! There wasn’t one single cell in Gabe Ryan’s body that deserved to be trusted.

She went into her office and took a seat, dropping her head back and closing her eyes for a moment. Her neck and shoulders were stiff as hell, already, and her head was pounding. The pain killer wasn’t doing a bit of good.

“You’re not feeling so hot, are you?” Gabe asked as he entered.

She didn’t bother opening her eyes. “I’m fine.”

“You’re a bad liar.”

She listened to his footsteps approach. As each one grew closer, her nerve endings prepared for the shock of his touch. Where would it be?

Her shoulders.

At first she flinched. But as he kneaded the sore muscles like a pro, she started to relax. “Oh…yeah…” She groaned. She moaned. “God, that feels good.”

“Just relax, trust me. I took a class or two, wanted something to fall back on if the marketing gig fell through.”

“You wanted to be a massage therapist?”

“Sports trainer, actually.”

She opened her eyes, and he smiled down at her.

This was not a comfortable position. With her head flopped back, she had no choice but to meet his gaze, and that gaze was mighty hot. Then it dropped a little and she found herself looking down to see what he was staring at.

Her shirt—correction, her chest. From his vantage he had a nice view of rounded cleavage miraculously enhanced by her black lace Wonder Bra. “Like what you see?” She raised an eyebrow.

“Sure do.” He licked his lips. “What’s not to like? Two firm, round breasts, just the perfect size to—”

“Okay, Hound Dog, off!” She shrugged her shoulders and slumped forward, temporarily out of his reach. “I need to get to work.”

“Sorry.” He stepped away, and she felt a chilly cloud settle around her. He slumped into his chair, his back to her.

Peace. At last. So, why did she feel so rotten? Why did her legs itch to carry her over to that tippy desk? Why was only one thing on her mind?

What had he done? Hypnotized her?

She spent the rest of the morning shifting papers from one folder to another, and doodling on her note pad. Didn’t accomplish a single thing. Nadda.

This was not going to work! She’d be staring at a pink slip in less than a week if she didn’t get her act together. Pronto. At lunch time, she passed Duncan in the corridor. He gave her an empty smile and asked her how the new arrangements were working, but he didn’t stick around long enough to hear her answer.

Yep, she would have that pink slip by next Friday at the latest.

Gabe disappeared at lunch—probably had a friendly meal with Miss Plastic Surgery—so she ate alone at her desk.

Alone. Lonely. Funny, in one day he’d turned her life upside down. The office felt empty, lifeless, too silent. She used to always eat alone at her desk before. It hadn’t felt lonely then.

He returned on the hour, flush-faced. Had he…? Oh, she didn’t want to know. For some reason, imagining his hands on that…that fake woman with Pamela Anderson lips and boobs…grrr!

Why was she jealous?

He returned to his desk, spun his chair around and crossed his arms over his chest. “Have you had enough silence for a while? If I have to sit here for another four hours without speaking, I’m going to chew right through this desk.” He looked so utterly charming, basically pleading with her to talk to him. What an odd character! A curl flopped over his forehead, striking a spark in her belly. Damn, he was cute.

“Yes, I’ve had enough silence.”

“Good.” He jumped from his chair and was at her side in two long strides. He returned to massaging her shoulders. “How’s the hangover? Gone yet?”

She closed her eyes, lost in the sensations pummeling her. The smell of his cologne. Yum! The way his fingers put just the right amount of pressure on her tense muscles. The growing tingle between her legs.

What had he asked? “Mmmm…” was all she could muster.

“Guess that means it’s gone.” He moved up to her neck, fingertips walking up and down both sides. “Feel good?”

She slumped her head forward. “Yeah.”

He worked his way down, easing her over her desk until her chest was pressed against the top, her arms crossed, her forehead resting on her wrists. With nothing but the feel of her slick desktop, cold, and unyielding under her arms, and his hands on her back, massaging away the tension she hadn’t realized was there, it wasn’t long before she was completely turned on.

She’d never had sex in the office before…

The desk was probably the perfect height…

What was she thinking?

She sat up. “That’s great. Thanks!” The ache between her legs was almost unbearable, and the once cold desktop was doing nothing to cool her off. She was hot from toes to hair roots, and everywhere in between.

When had she become such a sensual creature? Her last boyfriend had complained incessantly about her lack of sexual response, and she had to admit she’d been a cold fish. She’d even considered going to a doctor to see if she needed those pills—the female version of that little blue one.

Guess it hadn’t been a hormonal thing! That was a relief.

“Do you want to work together?” he asked as he dragged his chair across the room. He parked it next to hers and dropped into it. “We were off to a good start last night.”

We sure were! The first image that came to mind was that moment in the parking lot. His hands on her breasts, his mouth exploring hers. “Where do you want to start?”

He leaned close. His mouth was right there. All she had to do was lean…just a little, a little more… His breath brushed her mouth. Her lips went dry, and she licked them. They didn’t touch his, almost. She waited for him to close the hair’s-breadth distance between them.