One Week (HaleStorm) (7 page)

She pointedly resisted his gaze.

For now, he’d agree to her requests and allow her to think he was letting the subject drop. But this was not over.

***

O
nce inside her temporary apartment, Elise pressed her back against the door in the dark and gulped the stale air. She shivered from cold and unspent adrenaline. Unspent words.

She’d insisted Michael bring her back because she didn’t want to irrevocably shatter the measure of peace they’d both found working together this past couple of days, but at this point, peace might no longer be an option. He’d remained silent on the drive back from dinner.

Of course, now that she stood in the hush of this apartment that he’d been kind enough to loan her for the duration of her time at HaleStorm, she realized how far things had gotten out of hand. They still had the better part of a week left, and they needed to get along. However misguided, Michael’s attempt to protect her deserved a thank-you that she hadn’t yet given.

With a quick roll of her tight shoulders, she stepped back out into the chill and made the few quick paces across the landing to knock on his door. Her heart’s frantic clamor stopped cold when her fist unexpectedly fell against air. “Michael.”

He’d removed his jacket and unbuttoned his shirt, which hung open to expose a toned chest and a smattering of dark hair. The hair trailed down over a set of abs that rippled more deliciously than abs had a right to ripple when she was so freaking emotional, and there was a little loop pulled in his belt like maybe he’d started to unbuckle it before he heard her coming. Oh, hell.

He pointed to the fridge. “You came for your leftovers?”

Her heart found its proper pace again, if not a little thuddier than before. “I didn’t come about the leftovers. I came to say....”
Thank you. I’m sorry. I haven’t stopped thinking about you, either.
Inexplicably, she ran her gaze over his body again and embarrassment burned through her. Coming over had seemed like a much better plan from across the hall.

She’d been trying to convince herself back in that parking lot—hell, since she walked in the door of HaleStorm Engineering—that she did not want him anymore. That kissing him had been a stupid impulse. But it hadn’t been an impulse.

No, she’d taken a calculated risk that day. An impulsive kiss would have made her the naïve, innocent little intern he seemed to have pegged her for, wouldn’t it?

Abruptly she lifted the edge of her skirt to reveal the tattoo she’d gotten with her co-worker from the Tasty Delight on her eighteenth birthday. “I got this the day I was legal. I also used to be pierced here, here,” she pointed to eyebrow and her nose. “And you don’t get to know where else.” She crossed her arms over her chest and smiled slightly at the widening of his eyes.

He frowned. “I’m not sure....”

“You called me innocent back there in that parking lot. I dressed conservatively that summer because I was supposed to. You thought I was some kid who had just fallen off the turnip truck?” She stepped forward. From the rise and fall of his chest, his breath had deepened, and she struggled to keep her focus on his eyes. Still a little beer-buzzed, she put herself up in his face and laid it all on the line. “You tried to protect me because you’d heard rumors about Scarborough? What about the rumors I heard about you?”

His jaw hardened.

“What, you thought I wouldn’t know? Every woman at HaleStorm with a pulse and proper vision had your name written on their vibrators.”

This time she ignored the warning from her shoes when she clicked forward. “I didn’t let those rumors stop me, either. I’d been trying damn hard to get your attention all summer.”

He didn’t move except to blink. “The trouble with rumors is they’re half-true at best, if not total lies.” Then he did move, pressing into her space.

She hardened her gaze and met his stare, but there in the dim light of his apartment his eyes had turned the color of chocolate syrup, or dark whiskey, and she needed to stop thinking about things she wouldn’t mind him licking off of her. Holy cow, those lashes could make any supermodel cry with envy. “Okay,” she said. “So what’s your truth?”

His fingers danced up and down her spine, setting off shivers all over the place. He bent toward her, his stubble scraping her cheek. “The truth is, you were probably right when you said that this was a bad idea.”

She had said that, hadn’t she? His palm skimmed her waist and she damned herself for being sensible. “That probably is true.”

“And.” The heat of his hands and his breath licked along her neck and shoulders. Maybe she should have worn her coat over. “You have no idea what’s fact and what’s fiction about me.”

What Elise
did
know was the way he touched her now might well fry her brain. She needed to back away while she still had some semblance of her dignity. She managed one step. “Maybe I don’t. My point is, neither do you.”

Other than a slight raise of his eyebrows, he didn’t reply. Fine. Well, about that whole leaving with her dignity intact plan....

Another step backwards. “Whatever. Thank you for trying to protect me. It was a misguided, unnecessary effort, but thank you for being concerned.” Finally, with a clench of fists and a huff of breath, she turned on her throbbing heel and stormed for the door.

His fingers came around her wrist as she grabbed the doorknob. “Feeling smug now that you’ve gotten the final word?”

“Well I’m certainly feeling
something.
” Hot breath on her cheek, bare chest against her arm, and a really impressive erection against her backside for starters. And damned if her bones weren’t turning to liquid right underneath his fingers, because what the hell was she thinking? He was a client, after all. Not even the best mathematical minds in the world could calculate the infinite number of ways this could be trouble.

Michael laughed, low and rough. If sounds had fingers, this one would have practically yanked her underwear to the floor. “I forgot about that wicked sense of humor you trot out at inappropriate times.” He bent slightly, running his hands up the outsides of her thighs. His fingers met the hem of her skirt and kept going, lifting again to reveal the edge of her tattoo. His thumb traced the morning glory vine and the butterfly in flight right above that led to the middle of her upper thigh. “I almost forgot about this, too.”

Elise’s body shuddered. Her kneecaps decided to take a vacation.

“Interesting choice of symbols,” he said.

She managed to swallow. “Thanks.”

“Tell me about them.”

She shrugged even as blood rushed between her ears. She’d told him many things that summer, but not this. The meaning of her tattoos covered a hidden vulnerability she didn’t like to admit. “The butterfly is a Monarch. The morning glory is a beautiful but stubborn plant. They’re symbols of perseverance.”

“That’s lovely,” he murmured. “Very inspiring. What else do you have?”

“Nothing.”

“You said you have piercings.”

“Had.” Her ankle rolled and she stood herself up fast but the slip had been noticed. She could tell because he tightened his grip on her sides. Heat flooded her body.

“You seem uncomfortable. Take off your shoes, would you?” Her heart made a steady bass beat, a mix of want and frustration swirling through her body like a tornado. She wanted to hate him for rejecting her. Because yes, in spite of her protests, the way he’d pushed her off him all those years ago did still sting. And because no matter what he’d said about trying to protect her, she wasn’t sure his excuse could be trusted.

She wasn’t sure she could trust herself. Oh, God, all this was still a really terrible idea.

She turned her head and met dark eyes and full lips, his mussed hair falling into his face. His hand came up to her cheek. “Please,” he whispered.

She found herself curling one hand around his neck for support as she toed-off first one shoe, then the other.

“Thank you.” He grinned, and Elise’s adrenaline shot into her throat. “Now.” He straightened and whispered into her ear. “I’d really like for you to tell me more about those piercings.”

P
erhaps Michael could blame the stress of losing his father, or finally nailing the coffin of his dead marriage shut. Maybe this was exhaustion or good old-fashioned thinking with his dick. Fucked-up company rumor mill aside, he hadn’t let himself get carried away like this in forever. Maybe never.

There was no backing away from this one. No patting Elise on the shoulder this time and telling her she was a nice girl but he wasn’t interested. Even if he shut this down now, sent Elise back across the hall and told her everything had been a mistake, the damage had unquestionably been done.

Besides, he’d been dying to see that gorgeous body undressed. At thirty, he’d felt like a jerk for lusting after his twenty-one year old intern.

Five years later, when his fingers skimmed the top of her blouse and she arched into his hands? Clearly the current still flowed both ways, and now wanting her didn’t look so wrong.

“Most of them were in my ears, you know.”  She started to turn but her legs wobbled again.

“How about you put your hands on the door.” He sank his teeth gently into one of the body parts in question. “I’d bet good money they weren’t all in your ears.”

“What are you going to do, check me for contraband?” She rolled her eyes, but complied. “What makes you think they weren’t all in my ears?”

He smiled slightly, reaching in front of her and slowly undoing her buttons. “When you came in here you said you wouldn’t tell me where they had all been. You said so to bait me, right? To prove you were more of a bad girl than I thought.” He pulled her blouse apart, reveling in the smooth satin of her skin and the sheer bra covering her breasts. The delicious way her nipples peaked beneath his hands. “So here’s your chance to prove it to me. Show me the bad girl. We’ve already as good as taken the night off. So let’s
really
take the night off. Only for tonight, let’s pretend we don’t work together anymore.”

“I—”

“Only tonight. Tomorrow morning we have a company to save.” She hissed when he rolled one of her nipples through the sheer fabric of her bra. That sound set his blood on fire. “Tell me. Were you pierced here?”

She pushed her ass backward, right against his throbbing cock. “Yes.”

He brought his other hand around, squeezing her breasts firmly. Rubbing with his palms as he kissed an exposed piece of shoulder. He tweaked the other nipple between the scissor of his thumb and pointer finger. “Here?”

“Yes-s-s.”

He popped the front clasp on her bra, biting that same shoulder gently as he slid it and her blouse from her arms. He played for a while, testing to see what she liked best, wringing gasps and moans. Nipping along her back. Trailing fingers down her arms and taking delight in the goose bumps that popped up in the wake of his touch.

Scraping sounds as Elise tried to dig her fingers into the metal of the door but there was nothing for her to gain purchase. “Michael, I don’t think....”

“You’re right, we should both stop thinking for now.” His fingers crept downward, to the waist of her skirt, where he encountered a small loop in her navel. “Aha, so you still have one here.”

“Uh-huh.” She bit her lip.

“But not here?” He brought his hands to her breasts again, this time in a full on caress, loving the look and feel of the pale, freckled skin held in his fingers.

She shook her head. “I injured my back and had to get an MRI. They made me take all the metal out of my body. I didn’t bother putting most of them back.”

His finger circled her navel. “So why this one?”

Her body trembled against his hands. One shoulder lifted. “I thought it was cute.”

“No.” He blew on the back of her neck, smiling at the scrunch of her shoulder blades. “Not cute. Sexy.”

“Whatever whips your meringue, Mr. Hale.”

“Don’t call me that when we’re getting naked.”

She grinned over her shoulder. “Okay.”

His fingers found her zipper and pulled. He tugged again until the skirt lay in a pool at her feet, and the only thing that stood between him and heaven was her lacy black underwear. His fingers tingled at the prospect of sliding them down her thighs.

“So tell me.” Michael’s teeth grazed the lobe of Elise’s ear. “Were you ever pierced... down here?” His palm skimmed the damp scrap of lace and satin between her thighs.

Elise’s teeth sank into her lip. She trembled in response, and nodded. “Mm-hmm.”

Michael chuckled. “You were?” The thought made his balls throb harder. He gripped her left hip hard with his free hand. The other he used to make slow, easy circles with his middle-two fingers. “I guess you
are
naughtier than I realized.”

Her laugh, breathy and infused with surprise, made him want to fuck her up against the door right then and there. He wanted to, but he wouldn’t. He’d waited this long, and they may only have tonight. This, he would savor. He slid his fingertips along the curve of her hip, and hooked his finger under the edge of her barely-there lace thong.

Elise lifted her head. “Hey, is that your phone buzzing?”

“Fuck.” He paused to listen.

Spinning, he grabbed his jacket from the back of the sofa and pulled his phone from the pocket. “I’m sorry, it’s Tom. He wouldn’t call this late if it wasn’t important.” He walked to the bathroom to grab his robe for her while he took the call.

“What’s going on, Tom?”

“Hey there. Sorry to call so late but that thing I said could keep until morning? It can’t. I’ve got your brother with me. I tried to hold him off when he called earlier and I just found him waiting outside the offices.”

Michael looked to Elise, red-hair spilling in waves over one shoulder, pulling his terry cloth robe around her. Her lips opened with apparent curiosity.

Michael growled into the phone. “Tell me,” he said.

***

B
ack across the hall, Elise got in a blistering shower and berated herself for letting things get out of hand the way they had. She’d sworn she was over him. She was going to be professional. He was married—getting a divorce—but still. Did she honestly know she could trust Michael? God, this was the sort of thing that had led her mother down the road to misery.