Naughty Little Wishes (Birthday Dare) (4 page)

“We didn’t go at it.”
Oh yes, you did. You humped like rabbits.
“I’m not here for him. I’m helping Vanessa. Don’t you people do anything other than gossip at Bode-Wynn?”

“I guess this afternoon is a sensitive subject.” He flashed an all-male smile full of swagger and tease. “Hey. If you need a distraction from your worries, let me know. I’ll take care of you.”

The tension inside of her evaporated, and laughter bubbled past her lips. She’d liked Mitch from the moment Ethan had introduced them, but she’d never let flirting ease into something more. Mitch had one goal when it came to women, and she’d heard he’d met it enough times to pack a stadium. The day he gave his heart to someone special, women around the world would weep.

“Save it for the cute server. From the way she’s shooting daggers, you’ve already asked for her number.” He followed her glance across the room. “She looks like a screamer. I guess I’ll find out since you’re probably staying in the guest apartment upstairs.”

“Ouch.” He held a hand to his chest, mocking pain. “No need to be harsh.”

Or judgmental. She’d muffled her own cries of pleasure against Drew’s shoulder. A server opened the sliding door and a mixture of cool and humid air whispered over her warm cheeks. A few people mingled outside near the pool where three round tables with linen and place-settings awaited guests.

Tab accepted a glass of merlot from Mitch. “When does the party officially start?”

“In about fifteen minutes. Did anyone fill you in on what tonight is about?”

“Jasmine said it’s a dinner for new clients.”

“Mainly.” He took a sip of vodka and leaned against the bar. “But there’s also a few established and prospective clients in the mix to keep it spicy. The established ones make us look good and the new ones help sway the prospectives.”

“And I’m here to round out the numbers.”

He chuckled. “Don’t knock it. You’ve got it easy. I have to help Drew wrangle Bob Harrison. He’s one of our special cases.”

“What do you mean?” In her world, “special” meant pain in the ass.

He gave her a speculative look. “You know about what happened to Drew five years ago, right?”

“I heard he had a tough recovery after a car accident.”

“It was more than tough. It was a bitch of a recovery and not just the physical part.” Mitch drank from his tumbler. “His girlfriend at the time, Shana, was in the car, too. The accident ended her modeling career, and her congressman father blamed Drew. He and Devin had just gotten the company off the ground, and the man used every connection he had to influence the major contractors they’d won over to leave. All of them pulled out except one.”

“Bob Harrison.”

Mitch toasted her. “You got it.” He finished off his drink and gestured to the bartender for a refill. “Harrison went a step further and helped them secure international contracts to keep the company afloat. Two years later, Bode-Wynn’s reputation was solid, and all the clients they’d lost begged to come back. But now Bob’s decided not to renew his contract.”

“Why?”

“That’s the question we can’t answer, but I do know one thing. Harrison is like a mentor to Drew. He won’t show it, but if Harrison leaves, it’ll hurt him in ways that have nothing to do with the contract.”

Mitch was probably right. From the way Drew had reacted when she’d tried to bandage him up, he’d bury the pain. Just like her brother, no one would see the impact of the loss until it was too late.

Attention shifted in the room. Drew walked through the living room archway. His sedate brown suit didn’t take away from his capable image, but it didn’t do him justice. He wore the same combination all the time. Was it a throw back from his military days having to always wear a uniform? And that damned red tie. If she ever got into his closet, she’d burn every one of them.

His gaze found hers. Vivid recollections overwhelmed her professional eye—rippling muscle, his full, hard length inside of her, the rush of orgasm, holding on as he shuddered in release.

“Hey, don’t look so worried, gorgeous.” Mitch winked. “It’s all under control. When Andrew Bode negotiates, he always wins.”

…

Drew tracked Tab’s laughter to the other table. Smiling at the man sitting next to her, she took a sip of wine, and then glided her tongue along her lower lip. She’d tasted like mint candy—cool and sweet. Earlier, he’d stood under an icy shower, the flavor lingering in his mouth. His cock had grown hard as if her snug pussy was wrapped around him again.

“Ms. Drake is an interesting woman. I enjoyed talking to her earlier.” Bob Harrison set his glass on the table, a faraway look in his eyes. “She reminds me of Grace, stylish, confident, good with people.” He smiled ruefully. “Unfortunately, Natalie inherited more of my traits and less of her mother’s.”

Drew picked up his teaspoon. The image of him and Tab dissipated as he swirled the utensil in his coffee. He’d introduced every other topic during dinner. Maybe this one would finally lead Bob to business. “Is your daughter still in New York?”

“No. Natalie’s been in South America for the past ten months. She took over running her mother’s relief foundation. She’ll be home in a few weeks. She has to meet with the board and attend fundraising events.” He chuckled wryly. “She prefers blue jeans and hiking boots, but that won’t cut it. If she doesn’t project the right image, she won’t succeed. I thought about making her an appointment with Ms. Drake, but I overheard she’s booked for the next two months.”

“Want me to look into it?” A word routed through Ethan to Jasmine could open the door.

“No. I have other worries.” A shadow passed through the widower’s eyes, aging him beyond his fifties. “I’m glad Natalie’s taken such a strong interest in the foundation, but I wish she wasn’t so hands-on. You’d think after what happened to me in Brazil, she’d be more cautious.”

“I could have one of my guys fly down and keep an eye on her…discreetly.”

As if he’d heard him, Mitch stopped charming the server at the dessert bar and sent him a questioning look. Drew subtly shook him off.

Harrison sank back in the chair. “So, we’re back to the contract.”

“Screw the contract, Bob. We’re talking about your daughter’s safety.”

The distinguished older man adjusted his cufflinks. “I appreciate the offer, but I think whoever I hire to look after Natalie should also be in charge of watching over my executives.”

“I agree.” Drew met Harrison’s blue-eyed gaze. “And Bode-Wynn hasn’t missed a step with your company, and we never will. I can free my schedule for the morning and set up an early tee time. After a round of golf, we’ll talk about what you need.”

“Save the pitch, Drew. You don’t have to sell me on your capabilities. I just think it’s prudent to explore other options.”

“What if I give you double the capabilities?” Satisfaction grew in seeing the older man sit up and lean in.

“What do you mean?”

Drew silenced inner warnings. He’d gladly lay his ass on the line the same way Bob had for him. He wouldn’t let him risk his only daughter by hiring a less competent firm. “Renew my contract, and I’ll deliver what you want for Natalie.” Harrison followed his gaze. “Tabitha Drake.”

Chapter Six

The last client left with the caterer.

Finally
. Drew unbuttoned his jacket. One more detail to handle before he called it a night.

Tab stood laughing with Mitch in the living room. Both extraverts, it didn’t surprise him they got along. She smiled widely at something Mitch said. The security contractor placed his arm around her and moved his hand up and down her waist.

Drew stopped loosening his tie.

Mitch’s stealth moves in the field remained unmatched, but when it came to women, he had obvious tells. A solid ass grab meant they’d recently slept together. A stroke or pat, he’d been there in the past but contemplated going back for another round. Hand around the waist, interested, low on the hip, he was waiting for a sign.

Mitch moved his hand toward Tab’s hip. She moved it to her shoulder.

Laughing, he kissed her cheek and walked to Drew. “I’m testing in the simulator tomorrow. I’d better head to the apartment and get some sleep.”

As Mitch walked away, Tab snickered. Her expression turned startled as if noticing only she remained. “I should go, too.”

“We need to talk.”

“Like I said earlier, we’re adults.” She grabbed her purse from the coffee table. “I was upset about getting lost. You were mad about falling off your bike.”

“So you’re blaming us having sex on a bad sense of direction and some jackass running me off the road.”

Her eyes widened. “You were run off the road? Why didn’t you say something? We should have called the police.”

“And said what? I didn’t get a license number. I was too preoccupied with not becoming a hood ornament, but we’re getting off our topic.”

“We don’t have a topic.”

As she passed by, Drew snagged her arm. “I have a proposition.”

Her expression closed off, but not before he saw hurt in her eyes. At times, he acted in ways that earned him the title of “bastard,” but he wasn’t a dick. He’d never hurt or disrespect a woman, especially by throwing their sexual relationship in the mix. “I know for some, what we did is a game-changer, but this is strictly about business.”

“For some—interesting choice of words. You mean women.”

“No, I mean people who can’t sort it out.”

“No worries on that end, I keep my personal life out of business.”

“Good. I’d like to strike a deal.” He took off his jacket and laid it on the arm of the couch.

Tab’s lashes swept down and up again. Desire briefly shadowed the cool detachment in her eyes. “Take off your shirt.”

“We’re not having that type of conversation.”

“We are if you want to talk.” She pointed. “You’re bleeding.” Small dots of blood from the injury near his ribs stained his shirt. “There’s a first-aid kit under the counter in the guest bathroom, right?” Not waiting for his confirmation, she dropped her purse on the couch and walked off.

The slow swing of her hips fed his urge to follow and create more memories to haunt his dreams. This time, no clothes hiding the view in the mirror as he fondled her breasts, caressed her skin, played with her clit, and made her come as he thrust in from behind.

His collar grew tight and Drew slid the tie from his neck. He’d meant what he said. It couldn’t happen again. Their differences in opinion would only lead to trouble. Constant disagreements between couples pissed off friends and drove away acquaintances. He didn’t need the hassle. He needed Harrison’s contract.

Usually, he could tell how the situation would play out, but with her, he couldn’t. Was he appealing to the woman who was all opinions? The one bold enough to go all-in on a quick, satisfying fuck, or the woman who insisted on caring enough to bandage him up?

Tab came back. “Don’t be shy. I won’t bite.”

“Maybe I will.” He slipped out his cufflinks. “And you might like it.”

“And you keep piling wishes in one hand and shit in the other, and see which one fills up first.”

He unbuttoned his shirt and laid it on his jacket along with the tie. “You never run out of them, do you?”

“What?” She set the first aid kit on the coffee table and rummaged for a bandage.

“Smart-ass comments.”

Her back stiffened.

The more he stayed preoccupied with barbs and jabs, the less of a chance he’d end up with his cock saluting the situation.

“You sound like you’re whining. Lift your arm.”

He gave her access to his side. “I never whine. I’m negotiating. Bob Harrison wants you to make over his daughter.”

“He doesn’t need me. Another good stylist can do the job.” She dabbed an alcohol pad along his wound and blew softly over his injured skin, cooling the sting.

Drew sucked in a breath filled with her perfume. Did she dab it in places like a trail to follow on her skin? “The number of new clients you booked at this party should explain why he wants you for the job. When Natalie gets off the plane from South America next month, she literally has an important event a few hours later.”

“I can’t work with her if she’s not here.”

“You can use yourself as a guide. The two of you are the same size. The big difference is Natalie’s a brunette. Harrison will have a seamstress, hair stylist, and the makeup artist you recommend on standby for her arrival.”

“It’s not that easy.” Her fingers brushed over his scars from the accident with Shana.

A few more inches, and the tree limb that had pierced the windshield would have plunged into his heart. During the first years after the accident, he’d often thought it had. Then he’d learned to control the pain, the variables, the rules, and who he allowed in his life.

Tab fit the bandage over the wound. “A makeover isn’t about choosing outfits and a different colored lipstick. A guy graduating from college wants to look more like a responsible adult. A mom with too many kid-friendly clothes needs to project sophistication at the office. Our image projects how we want the world to see us. Not the other way around. It sounds like Harrison and the board are making his daughter’s decisions.”

“Natalie knows what she’s getting into. The foundation meant everything to her mother, and she doesn’t want to lose it. Video chats, emails, phone calls, she’ll do what it takes once her father tells her how good you are.”

“Flattery won’t work.”

“What will?”

“Telling the truth.” She stood. “What are you getting out of this?”

“Harrison renews his contract, which shouldn’t be an issue in the first place.” He hadn’t shared his frustrations about Bob with anyone, but if he was going to involve her, she had a right to know. “Ever since Bob lost his wife last year, he’s changed. I’m starting to wonder about some of his decisions.”

Tab gave him an exasperated look. “You really don’t know your clients.”

She turned to move away, but he snared her arm. “Where do you get off telling me about my clients? You don’t know Bob.”

She wobbled and gripped his bicep for balance. “But I know people. When someone loses the person they love, one of two things happens. They resist moving on or they make drastic changes. Bob’s sold his house, relocated his office, joined new social groups. He’s even dropped golf and started rock climbing.”