JARED (Lane Brothers Book 4) (38 page)

“Are you sure I can’t tempt you with a nightcap?”

We’ve enjoyed a lovely dinner and some surprisingly good conversation. This surprises me because I’d assumed we wouldn’t have much in common besides the ad campaign. How wrong I was. Gregory Lucas and I share quite a few things in common.

We both like ‘eighties power ballads, something very few modern heterosexual men will admit to, and we love the ocean and want whalers across the globe to die an unholy painful death.

I’ve truly enjoyed tonight and want nothing more than for it to keep going to its natural conclusion. I want to invite him up and take him into my small room with its white sheets and see him stretched out naked against them.

I want a lot of things, but I know that if I bend now he’ll have me exactly where he wants me. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not looking for a long-term commitment or a ring, God forbid, I just don’t want to be another easy conquest for the sexy lothario.

“No. Thank you for the offer though,” I say, going to open my door.

“Wait,” he growls, stilling my hand. “At least let me kiss you. I’ve been thinking about it all night.”

You and me both.

Letting go of the door I turn to him, licking my lips for the kiss I’ve anticipated since opening my door. He cups my face and leans in, feathering a light kiss against my closed mouth, once, twice, before settling his mouth fully on mine and peeking his tongue out to lick at me.

I groan at the contact and allow my lips to open infinitesimally, encouraging him to take it deeper. He does, coaxing my lips open with swift flicks of his tongue that leave me gasping, opening for more.

He tastes like the coffee we drank instead of dessert, and something indefinable. Soon he’s deepening the kiss to something that has me gasping and leaning closer, searching.

When I spear my tongue past his lips and lick at his, he pulls me over and onto his lap, my head at his shoulder as he plunders my mouth.

I am so lost in the sensations bombarding me it takes me a minute to realize he’s worked a hand under my dress and is slipping a finger beneath the waistband of my thong.

I tense, whimpering when his finger skims over my opening and moves higher to my clit. When he touches me I groan, wishing my dress weren’t so tight. I want to spread my legs and invite him in.

“Oh darlin’, you feel so beautiful,” he groans, pressing his thumb into me in a rhythmic slide that has me tensing as arousal hits me.

He keeps kissing me, swallowing my cries as he pushes a finger lower and enters me, his thumb stroking me closer to bliss.

“When you’re ready I’m going to taste this,” he growls, stroking in counterpoint to his thrusting finger.

My body is all sensation and coiling need as he touches me and keeps going till I explode in a shower of pleasure that leaves me gasping startled cries into his open mouth. When I am sated and wrung out and ready to melt, he pulls his hand from beneath my dress and pushes me back into my seat.

His trousers are tented, revealing a thick erection I suddenly want more than my next breath. When he opens his mouth and sucks on the arousal clinging there I swear I feel my womb tense.

He lets out a groan and spears me with a look filled with lust.

“I’ll call you tomorrow, darlin’.”

Dismissed, I open my door and exit on shaky legs.

“Hannah?”

“Yeah?” I breathe, turning back to lean in.

“Don’t wear any panties tomorrow night,” he commands, and I nod, caught in the thrall of his desire.

It’s only as I’m letting myself into the apartment that I realize, I am not and never will be, in control when it comes to Gregory Lucas, and that thought scares me more than the thought of losing control.

A knock sounds at the door just as I’m about undress. I stop and smooth at the dress with shaking hands, fully expecting the person on the other side to be Gregory.

“I want to know everything,” Chrissie demands as she bursts in holding a bottle of wine and a tub of Double Choc Chip.

It’s not ideal, but if he’s not returning I am so up for a little distraction. I can go back to my diet tomorrow.

“God, that man was….phew,” she giggles, fanning herself for emphasis. “And the way he was looking at you!
My
pants almost caught on fire.”

I grin at her and excuse myself to change, coming back with her dress thrown over my shoulder as I adjust my shorts and roll my hair into a bun.

“So, let’s hear it.”

I accept the wine and offer the dress.

“Thanks, Chris, that dress was a life saver.”

“Well, keep it! It was obviously meant for you,” she insists wickedly, and we giggle as we sip wine and dig into the ice cream.

“Okay, but at least let me pay you for it.”

“Nope. You can owe me a favor when I’m having a pre-date meltdown sometime. Dish. I want to hear everything.”

I relax back and close my eyes as the events of my date with Gregory come back to me. God, I am so in trouble if my mind is already on a first name basis with the man.

“He took me to this little Italian bistro. It’s so hidden away it’s a miracle people can find it, but it was…perfect. It’s romantic and intimate and they serve the best spaghetti I’ve ever had.”

“Yeah?”

I can hear she’s trying to be patient. Chrissie wants the juicy details, not what we ate.

“Afterward he brought me home and suggested a nightcap.”

“Ooooh, a
nightcap
, nightcap?”

We giggle as she wiggles her brows, and it takes a few sips of wine before we’re back to being rational adults. I am enjoying myself, talking to her and sharing…something. I’ve never been a girlfriend type of girl, and I find that it’s much more than what I expected it to be.

“I said no though,” I confess, and I have to restrain a smile when her face falls in disappointment.

“For real? Why?” she squeals. “God, what I wouldn’t give for a man who looks like that to offer me a
nightcap
.”

“Well.”

How should I explain this without sounding like a freaking idiot?

“I didn’t want things to move too fast, ya know? We’ve only just met, and he’s something of a player. I don’t want to be a one night wonder and then have to work with him for the next few weeks pretending I haven’t seen his peepee.”

Chrissie cackles so hard she spews wine all over herself, and we both start giggling again.

“I see where you’re coming from. You work together?”

“For the moment. He’s a client. Jordan’s handling the campaign for his cruise line.”

“Hhhmmm. Okay, so he’s definitely into you. You’re into him, and you have to work together for the foreseeable future. Yeah. That sounds complicated. What are you gonna do?”

“I don’t know.”

And it’s true. I know now that keeping Gregory at arm’s length is not going to be as easy as I’d led myself to believe, and as I’ve said, there’s no way I can ever have enough control of the situation to be completely comfortable with what’s happening.

But, and this is a big one, I know we’re going to sleep together. It’s as inevitable as the sunrise. I just need to decide when I’ll let that happen and how I’ll respond when it’s over.

Gregory Lucas is not a man to build dreams around, and I know it, I just have to convince the old fashioned idiot in my head that sex for the sake of sex is not wrong and that I don’t want anything more than that.

I’ve set up the boardroom, arranged lunch and drinks, and practically done Jordan’s entire presentation and practiced it with him by the time twelve o’clock rolls around.

I am starving and crabby from my restless night, and my idiot boss is still having a conniption about God alone knows what. Some days I wish I could kick his bratty ass to the moon.

“Where the hell is that file!”

I sigh and drop my purse back to my desk and walk into his office with as much calm as I am able to present. It’s like being a nanny. I just have to remember that slapping him or giving him a time out isn’t possible.

I just have to breathe through it and help him through the stress. His big Lucas presentation is in ten minutes, and he’s having a meltdown.

“I put it in your briefcase. Here,” I say through clenched teeth, pulling the file out.

“What about the slides?”

“In the boardroom, along with the individual copies.”

“Lunch?”

“Everything is there. I’ve arranged for fresh coffee to be brought in, and Taz is taking notes for Mr Yates, so I have that covered on our end too.”

He nods distractedly and runs a hand through his floppy brown hair.

“Here. Just take a deep breath and remember that we’ve considered everything. There’s no way they won’t be impressed.”

“Really? Because I had a meeting with Yates at the golf course, and I’m a little unsure of my position if this presentation doesn’t go well. I need this account.”

Well, you should have considered that before you went back to the golf course and left me to do your job, I say silently.

“It’s going to be fine. Now go in there and wow those people.”

“Come with me,” he pleads, and I refrain from rolling my eyes.

“Mr Yates only wants the bigwigs and Taz in there. I can’t sit in without permission. Anyway, its lunchtime, and I still have to go pick up your wife’s dress from the cleaners,” I remind him.

One day, I will not be a glorified goffer.

Maybe.

Hopefully.

“Yeah, okay,” he sighs, grabbing his stuff and walking to the door. “Thanks, Han, I appreciate all your hard work.”

When he’s gone I look out the window, just to be sure the sky is still blue and that a huge alien spacecraft isn’t hovering over New York. Jordan saying thank you? Weirdest day ever.

I meet Lucy in the elevator, and we ride down together, deciding to grab lunch at the deli on the corner. They make a great chicken salad, and the cleaners are just down the street.

“Know what I don’t understand?” she asks as we pay for the food and grab a table at the window.

“What?”

Yummy, the chicken’s a little crispy today, just the way I like it.

“The Lucas account was with The Bowen Agency. I mean, they’re like the Ali’s and Tyson’s of advertising. Why move your business to another agency, especially such a small one like ours, if you’ve got the crème da la crème in your pocket?”

That’s a great question, but one I am not equipped to answer. What do I know about what makes Gregory tick? The man is a mystery, kind of like water on Mars. You want to think you know what’s going on, but deep down you know the water could just be weird colored rocks or something.

He’s like that, the proverbial maybe, and I’m about as capable of guessing his intentions as I am of convincing my boss that golf is not a sport.

“Maybe he didn’t like them. Who knows? The important thing is that we do have the account, and it could mean bigger and better for the agency. Now eat your lunch, I still have to go get her highness’s dress down the street.”

“God, I am so glad I got Owens. Have I said that before?”

“Only like a million times,” I snort. “Stop crowing about it and get a move on. I’m dying to know about the presentation. I hope Jordan doesn’t balls it up.”

I shouldn’t take it too personally. Jordan’s arrogant and an ass sometimes, and he definitely does not have the finest presentation skills. I know this, so getting huffy because he’s likely to bomb the presentation I put together isn’t smart.

But it’ll piss me off if my hard work isn’t lauded.

“You remember what happened with the Rowland thing? I swear to God the entire floor had bets going. I won fifty bucks and Owens had to buy me lunch for a week.”

Yeah, I remember that too, and it still makes my blood boil. That presentation had been perfect for the kings of peanut butter. Too bad they’d hated Jordan so much they’d pulled the plug and gone elsewhere.

“You are like the best PA in the company. Even Taz doesn’t run her ship as ruthlessly as you do. I can’t believe you got stuck with Mr Golf.” She sighs.

Me neither.

“It’s fine, he’s not that bad,” I say, rising to throw my plate and cup in the bin. “You coming with or going straight back?”

“Coming of course. I need to see what all your hard work is paying for. Anyway, if it’s half as great as the last dress, I’m thinking we should keep it and tell Jordan the cleaners couldn’t get the stain out.”

I know she’s teasing, that is Lucy for ya, but as she says it I realize I have another date tonight. And nothing to wear.

“You wouldn’t happen to have a really cute dress I could borrow?” I ask as we walk out of the cleaners with a dress that probably costs enough to feed a small village.

“You think anything I own would fit you?” she snorts, looking down at her slightly chubby middle. “Ah, no. So what do you need a dress for?”

I groan and manage to hold her off till we reach our building and squeeze into the elevator.

“So? Hot date?” she asks in a loud whisper.

I pretend not to notice when a few titters echo around us, and throw her a fulminating look. But she is not to be deterred, so instead of letting her bug me to death I hiss a yes at her and glare at our curious audience.

“Is he hot? What’s his name? Please don’t tell me you finally said yes to Brett in accounting. He still lives with his mom.”

No. I would never say yes to him, and not because he lives with his mom but because he’s sweet and nice and I’d feel terrible having to let him down if he goes for more than what I’m willing to offer.

“Sssht!”

The elevator arrives at her floor, and I breathe out a sigh as she exits, blowing a kiss over her shoulder. By the time we reach the seventh floor the elevator is clear but for me and—

“So, did you go out with Brett in accounting?”

My body reacts predictably to the sound of that slow Southern drawl, and I turn to look at the man who haunted my dreams last night.

“No. He’s too sweet.”

He smiles as he leans over and hits the break button, his chest making contact with my back and leaving a trail of heat.

“Too sweet for you, darlin’? I doubt that,” he drawls, pushing me into the side wall to lean over me, his hands bracketing my head. “You dream about us last night, Hannah Newman? Did the passion I gave you keep you hot and aching for me?”

Yes, yes it had. I’d tossed and turned all night thinking about the feel and taste of his mouth, wondered if he’ll be that sweet when we go to bed together or if he’ll be a wild, uncontrollable wave of pounding lust. I’d replayed every moment of our time spent in the car, and it had gotten so bad I’d finally rolled out of bed at four and cleaned the apartment just to have something to do.

“No,” I lie, meeting his eyes challengingly.

He smiles and leans in till his lips are a hair’s breadth away.

“Liar. You did think of me. You wondered what would have happened if you’d given in and invited me upstairs to your apartment. You imagined my hands and lips all over your body. Did you wonder what I’d do first if I got you naked, Hannah?”

I lick my lips, groaning when my tongue ghosts over the pillow softness of his bottom lip, and close my eyes.

“I need to get back to work,” I breathe, feeling out of my depth and precariously close to crawling him like a vine and kissing him until our lungs are starved for air.

A soft kiss whispers over my lips, and I close my eyes on a moan. He could demand so much more right now, and I’d give it to him, I am so enthralled.

“Remember what I told you,” he says, pulling away to hit the button.

When we reach my floor I walk out on shaky legs and turn back.

“What?”

“No panties,” he mouths, and winks as the door closes, leaving me to stumble back to my desk and the work I know I won’t concentrate on now.

I am engrossed in work an hour later, thanks to my strict sense of control, when Jordan stomps in, a scowl plastered all over his face. Uh-oh, looks like Lucy’s predictions have come true. Lucy had called me a few minutes earlier, laughing about the presentation he’d given, a presentation that is not mine but the bikini babe version he’d put together himself. I’d warned him not to go that route, but…

“Get me some goddamned coffee and get your ass in here with your notepad.”

By the time I walk into his office and set the coffee down in front of him I’m madder than a bobcat.

“They didn’t go for it.”

Well, of course not. They’re trying to promote environmentally friendly cruise liners, not a bachelor’s dream vacation.

“I’m sorry to hear that, Jordan. Did you pitch the presentation like we practised?” I ask, watching his face redden.

No, of course you didn’t, because you didn’t do the presentation we discussed, you did your usual ‘hot babes sell’ shtick.

“I’ve gotta leave early today, we’re driving out to Margery’s parents’ place for the weekend, so I’ll need to cancel for tonight’s party as well. And don’t forget to call Gillespie’s office and schedule something for Monday morning.”

I take it all down and go back to my desk, relieved when a few minutes later Jordan breezes out of the office, leaving me alone for the rest of the day.

The dress stares mockingly at me from the sofa, where I’ve laid it out, and I smile for the first time all day.

Looks like I’m getting something out of today after all.