Author: C. J. Ellisson
Date: 2013-01-10T00:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Romance; Adult; Contemporary; series; short romance; Category; love; fling; brazen; mistaken identity; erotic; entangled
Description: Discover your inner bad girl, and set her free... Heather Pierce is done being a wallflower, both personally and professionally. Desperate to live a different life for one night, she attends a speed dating event. Maybe here, anonymous unless she chooses otherwise, she can become someone new. When a man way out of her league sits across from her, Heather gathers her courage and takes charge of what she wants, secretly fearing he won’t desire the real person she’s desperate to hide. Top acquisitions officer and international playboy Tony Carmine is about to close the biggest deal of his career.
Publisher: Entangled Publishing

Vanilla on Top
a Walk on the Wild Side novel

C.J. Ellisson

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

Copyright © 2013 by C.J. Ellisson. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.

Entangled Publishing, LLC

2614 South Timberline Road

Suite 109

Fort Collins, CO 80525

Visit our website at www.entangledpublishing.com.

Brazen is an imprint of Entangled Publishing, LLC. For more information on our titles, visit www.brazenbooks.com.

Edited by Liz Pelletier

Cover design by Heather Howland

ISBN 978-1-62266-798-7

Manufactured in the United States of America

First Edition January 2013

The author acknowledges the copyrighted or trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction: Abercrombie, Microsoft Outlook, Fifty Shades of Grey, James Taylor, Breguet, Miller Lite, Nikon D4, La Cucina, The Parlor.

For Boone. Without your friendship and guidance, I’d be lost. Thank you for being my sounding board, story collaborator, and my biggest cheerleader.

Chapter One

HEATHER

The bartender approaches us, carrying our drinks, a lopsided grin on his aging face. “Gin and tonic?”

“That’s me,” I reply, reaching for the squat glass.

He sets a wineglass in front of Carla. She accepts it with a nod and turns her perky blondness my way. “Who orders a mixed drink at a wine bistro?”

My best friend forgets, I’m not nearly as bold as she is and often require stronger fortification for my nerves. “Sometimes wine doesn’t cut it.”

The elegant room fills with bodies, and my temperature rises. So many handsome guys, I’m afraid to open my mouth and trip on my tongue. What in the hell possessed me to try this type of outing again?

Carla eyes the variety of men pouring through the double doors. “Linda outdid herself with tonight’s event. There weren’t this many hotties at the last one. But then again, it wasn’t run by Linda.”

I shudder at the memory of the first speed dating attempt she dragged me to.

God, I’d felt like such an idiot.

I clearly blocked the humiliation of how no one wanted a date with me afterward. Then again, the prospect of being alone the rest of my life doesn’t sit well either.

“Yup, our lovely organizer did a great job with the men showing up tonight.” I force a laugh to hide my awkwardness. “Maybe one will even call me later.”

“Hey, cut that long hair into some semblance of a style and you might have the same luck Julie did.”

I self-consciously tuck a strand of fine black hair behind one ear. I have no intention of getting a cute pixie haircut like Carla’s. The long locks are one of the few things I like about myself. “Your sister lucked out with her hotshot property developer, but let’s be real. Most of the good ones in this city are gay or married.”

“Not true! I refuse to think there are no good ones left.” She nudges me with her shoulder while pointing her glass at some of the men around the room. “Take a good look. I bet there are at least six here who aren’t married, or gay and looking for a beard.”

I gaze at my friend and appraise her good-naturedly. With curvy good looks and a low cut blouse, she has a much better chance of snagging a guy than I do.

Linda, the busty brunette in her forties who organized the event, waves at us from across the bar, gesturing we should head over to the tables like she explained earlier. Carla and I select small, two-seater tables next to each other, sliding into the cushioned chairs at almost the same time.

“Smile, Heather,” Carla says with a cheeky grin. “You’ll do fine.”

“Oh, yeah.” I hold back my grimace, reminding myself of the free booze. Maybe, if I drink enough, I’ll say something charming and one of these men will choose me for a date. “I’m sure I will.”

Carla leans over and swats my arm playfully. “Step out of your comfort zone, girl. Slip on a new skin while you’re here.”

Putting on a brave face, I nod. “I’ll try.”

I swirl the thin red straw in my gin and tonic while looking over the prospective men. There’s a tall, dark, and gorgeous one in the corner. He’s sporting a blinding white smile, offset nicely by his cocoa-colored skin, deep brown hair, and sharp casual jacket. Yum. My lips tilt up at the corners. He looks in my direction and I drop my glance to the clipboard on the table in front of me. I’d die if he caught me staring at him.

Carla once labeled me a “doormat” while we were commiserating over my past relationships. She might have been right. I’m always bending over backward, sometimes literally, to make a guy happy. And what has it earned me? An empty bed, lonely nights, and lots of meals for one in my freezer. I take a long sip of my drink.

Maybe I should slip on a new skin. Honestly, this current one isn’t working too well. I stiffen my spine as I glance once more around the wood-paneled space. I know there’s a guy out there for me. I just have to find him.

Two men arrive together, one looking slightly more harried than the other. The first one is sandy-haired and built like a runner, slim hipped and lean. His tailored, pinstriped suit still looks fresh at eight o’clock. He’s got a dimple in his chin and an infectious grin as he looks around the room at the available ladies.

Quite a few women look older than me, so even if I’m not stunning, I’m still sitting near the top of prospects for the evening. This may turn out to be my lucky night, yet. The man behind the runner makes me pause. He’s easily the best looking guy in the bistro. And sure enough, by the way heads are turning, I’m not the only one who notices him.

Though slightly shorter than his lanky friend, he must outweigh him by thirty pounds or so. His lean middle implies that extra bulk is all muscle. He’s…arresting. Sable-brown hair, cut short and styled in a lazy fashion that somehow looks professional on him. His charcoal suit drapes across his broad shoulders and defines his narrow waist like it was custom-made. His white shirt contrasts with his Mediterranean complexion, and when he looks up at his friend’s teasing tone, I get a glance at his light brown eyes and chiseled cheekbones. What I wouldn’t give to run my fingers through his hair and kiss him senseless.

I shift in my chair, aware of a growing dampness in my panties. God, how embarrassing. To be drawn to a man I’ve never talked to and who is obviously way out of my league. I probably don’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of attracting his attention. I wish I had something prettier on. This slim black skirt and snug spring sweater might emphasize my build nicely, but I’m betting it will take cleavage and a lot of leg to attract a man like him.

My eyes shift sideways to Carla sitting next to me. The deep vee of her shirt showcases her plump, high breasts perfectly, and her tousled pixie-hair simply screams, I’m a fun girl, date me.

A small part of my eagerness for the night deflates over my chances of meeting him compared to hers. The two good-looking friends finish their paperwork and saunter to the bar. What am I really doing here? Sure, I might have a chance of meeting a guy for a midnight hook-up, but really…speed dating?

Makes me wonder—what’s wrong with these guys if they can’t find a date on their own? Shut up, Heather! I scream at myself. You sabotage everything before it even starts!

All right, all right, some of the men could be normal. I sip my drink and scan the room once more. The only decent ones here are the man with the blinding smile, the runner, and Mister Italian Stallion with the sexy bed hair who came in last. A sigh escapes me as I realize I’m close to drooling. Each one of them looks utterly delicious and I pray they’ve got brains behind the pretty faces and gorgeous bodies.

Now, if I can just say something interesting to one of them in the allotted two minutes, I might have a chance.

Linda stands near the middle of the bar area and raises her arm. “Attention Speed Daters!” All eyes turn toward the organizer. “We’re ready to begin. You all know the guidelines. Make polite conversation, ask questions that matter to you, make notes on your card, and move on. All in good fun!” She smiles and nods to a few of the participants around the room. “You never know. You just may meet your one and only match tonight.”

I sigh and plaster on a happy face. Still better than sitting home alone with another microwave meal, so I’m not going to complain. I slurp the last of my drink through the tiny straw. Damn. Need to take advantage of that free booze or it will definitely be a ruined evening.

After getting a refill at the bar, I saunter back to my little table for two, ready to meet my first “date” of the evening. Mr. Serial Killer in Training sits across from me and immediately asks if I’m a vegetarian…thank God for my second drink. I glance down the line to see who will be shifting to my table next. A shudder runs through me as I take another sip. Hopefully the alcohol will make meeting Sloppy Guy and Blinding Smile a little easier to bear.

In thirty minutes, the Italian Stallion slides into the chair at my table. He’s just come from sitting with Carla and wears a smile from ear to ear. A lump forms in my throat from looking at him close up.

A small scar traces the left side of his jaw, its pale color faded with age. I’d like to hear the story behind the old wound. His full lips look soft enough to kiss and his classic Roman nose would be better suited on an Abercrombie model than a businessman in Manhattan.

His eyes glide over me, a slight spark of what I hope is interest in their depths. A flare of awareness ignites in my chest. The man’s charming grin remains in place. A good sign so far. Right as he opens his kissable mouth to speak, his phone rings. His relaxed expression turns into a grimace as he digs in his pocket to retrieve the offending device.

“Sorry,” he mumbles my way before answering. He turns slightly in his seat, angling himself away. “Yes?” He barks into the phone. “No, I won’t be back in tonight. The instructions are in the email I sent.”

At least I had the decency to turn off my phone before I came in. Hell, unless you’re a doctor on call, I doubt there’s anything that important requiring your phone to stay on for two hours. He looks into the distance and I feel a twinge of annoyance.

“No,” his tone grinds out, authoritative and powerful. “You need to listen to me, Brian. The directions are in the email. You follow them precisely and the deal will close. Call me again and I’m going to be really pissed.”

He clicks his phone shut and closes his eyes. Tension spills off him and I hesitate to break the silence. What could be so important that he feels the weight of the world on his shoulders? He takes a deep breath and opens them again, staring straight into my eyes.

“I’m sorry, that was rude of me.” He angles toward me. I nod my reassurance that it’s okay, but inside I can’t help but think I’ve lost even more of my precious allotted time with this desirable stranger. He really is way out of my league.

“You know what I want more than anything?” he says with a touch of longing. “I want someone else to take control for a while. I’m really sick of being the guy in charge all the time.”

I smile, not particularly sure I can relate, but willing to appear understanding. His phone rings again and sharp anger stabs my gut.

“Turn it off,” I say, with a challenge in my tone. I sit up straighter and stare into the depths of his caramel eyes. “You want someone to tell you what to do?” He nods, his calculating gaze on me as the phone continues to ring. “Turn off that damn phone,” I bite out, pretending I’m issuing a command. “Now.”

Shock registers across his expression, but he hides it quickly. I raise an eyebrow and feel the sparks fly across the table between us. He returns my stare and smiles, the first real one I’ve seen on him since he came into the restaurant. It’s kind of lopsided and lazy, curling my toes at the devilment it promises. The phone rings a third time and I break our standoff and glance away, tilting my chin an inch higher, showing my displeasure in his lack of action. He fumbles for the phone on the table between us and shuts it off.

My pulse races and a part of me waits for him to shout that I’m the rudest bitch he’s met tonight. Well, I tried my hand at ballsy and domineering—worth a shot. I look toward him and smile, catching him off guard, if his raised eyebrows are anything to go by. The interest I thought I saw earlier still lurks in his eyes.

Hmmm… Maybe tonight won’t be a total wash after all.

I pick up my drink and tilt it toward him in greeting. “I’m Heather.”

He raises his to meet mine and clinks it across the space. “Tony.”

“What do you do, Tony, that has people calling you after office hours?”

He stiffens and his tone comes out flat. “I head acquisitions in a large shipping conglomerate. We’re organizing to buy out a small firm this week.”

I nod, not sure if knowing what he does matters. He seems wired pretty tight, poor guy. “Who did you arrive with, that guy with the sandy-colored hair?”

Tony lifts a brow and interest lights his expression. “Why?” His grin broadens. “You want me to introduce you?”

I stare back at him with a feigned confidence I don’t possess. “I’ll meet him soon enough, won’t I?”

“Touché.” He touches the timer on the table. “We are speed dating.”

“That’s why I asked. You don’t seem like the type to be here.”

“Probably not, but Marcus talks me into lots of stuff I might not normally try on my own. He’s an old college buddy. Dragged me here ‘cause he said I needed a break from work.”

I glance down my nose at his phone, angling my head a bit. “He might be right.”

“And hey—what makes you think I’m not the type to try speed dating on my own?” he asks, a twinkle in his eye.

This man doesn’t know me from Adam. I could be anyone in this moment, anyone who is brash enough to tell a stranger to turn off his phone. Carla said to slip on a new skin…maybe she was onto something…

Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

I reach across the table and trace a finger down the back of his hand. “You’re wound too tight,” I say, dropping my voice, trying for a seductive tone. “Like you’re going to snap.” I gaze at him through my lashes, hoping I can pull off a sexy look like I’ve seen in movies. “What you need is to let off a little steam.”

Desire sparks in his caramel eyes and he turns his hand over to grasp my own. “Really? What did you have in mind?” Tiny shocks of pleasure shoot up my arm at our increased contact.

The two-minute timer dings and the prospective dates around the room say their goodbyes and shift out of their chairs, eager to move on to the next person down the line.

I shrug and pull my hand away. “Why don’t you follow me to the patio and find out?”

There’s no doubt I’ve peaked his curiosity. I pick up my drink, still staring into his stunning eyes, and circle my tongue around the tiny swizzle stick before slipping the red plastic into my mouth for a taste of my drink.

Tony’s lips part in an exhalation of breath, his stare locked on my mouth.

I smile at his expression, pleased I’ve made an impression. He seemed to like when I told him what to do. I wonder how far I can take this with him willing to follow. I slide from my chair, now glad I wore a pencil skirt that emphasizes my butt, and walk out of the room without a backward glance, hoping he takes the bait.

My black stiletto heels rap against the marble tile of the bistro as I swish my hips toward the narrow door leading to the closed outside seating in the rear of the restaurant. I push the door open and step through. The metal door whisks shut behind me. It’s early spring and unseasonably warm outside tonight, but still too early for the bistro to have the area set up for receiving diners.

My heart races as I lean against the cool brick. What the hell am I doing, trying a stunt like this in a public place? Will he come out here? If he does, what do I do then? Anyone could walk out here, and by the full ashtray on a stack of tables, the probability of it being a smoker is high.

Ten minutes. All you need is ten minutes.

Can I talk my way through this? Well, why the hell not? If he follows me out here then I’ve definitely intrigued him enough to learn more about me. But how do I set myself apart from the countless women who’ve probably already thrown themselves at him?

The door creaks open and Tony steps out. You can do this, Heather. Take command. Tell him what you want. Tell him what to do, just like he said he wants. Now or never.

I smirk with a confidence I’m not completely feeling. “Nice of you to join me, Tony.” I relax against the brick and check him over from head to foot, making sure he knows with just my eyes exactly how desirable I find him. You can do this, don’t panic. He won’t laugh at you.

I nod toward the stacked chairs. “Take off your coat.” He slips the expensive garment from his shoulders, pulling the starched fabric of his shirt across his defined chest. I nod my approval and his eyes glint with desire in the dimming light.

He smiles, seemingly eager to play whatever game I’ve got in mind. “Anything else?”

I push down my inner anxiety and grin, in what I hope is a teasing manner. “Your tie.”

His eyebrows shoot up, but he loosens the knot and pulls the material free. The red silk slides over his shirt, and then is tossed carelessly toward his coat.

Holy crap, he’s doing it. He’s listening to me. What now?

“Unbutton the top two buttons of your shirt.” The command springs unbidden to my thoughts.

He complies and reveals the golden skin below his throat, with a few stray chest hairs visible near the neck of his undershirt. He looks so good I’d like to grab his shirt and rip it open, licking the skin as it’s uncovered.

Holy cow, where did that come from? I’m not this aggressive woman I’m pretending to be.

“How’s that?” he asks.

My pulse pounds so loudly in my ears I can only nod, afraid I’ll give too much away if I answer. I clear my throat, reaching for nonchalance. “It’ll do.” My hands slide to my hips and I take the plunge, pouring every ounce of courage I possess into my next actions.

I grab my skirt’s black material and work it slowly up my thighs. Tony’s eyes grow round as he follows my movements.

“Get down on your knees,” I say, forcing out my voice in a firm tone. Keep it together, girl! He looks like he’s game. Keep going.

I tug the fabric up, until my skirt scrunches up around my waist and my black lace underwear is bared to the night air. The handsome man’s breath rushes out and I worry he’s going to balk, leaving me here with my skirt rucked up like a fool.

The intensity of the sexual moment overwhelms me a bit and I slide a finger over my heated mound, teasing the aroused flesh underneath. Desire pushes me to be bold. “Did you not hear me, Tony?” Strength pours into my voice, making me sound more sure of myself than I feel. God, if he laughs at me now, I’ll die.

Tony steps closer and sinks to the cobblestone terrace, reaching with two eager hands toward my hips. He buries his face in my crotch and breathes deeply. “You smell so good.” He rubs his cheek back and forth against my panties. “What do you want me to do?”

A shudder ripples through me as the breath of his whispered voice warms my skin through the thin lace. He wants me to tell him what to do. I can do this.

“Kiss me,” I rasp, my voice barely above a whisper.

His soft lips press against the thin garment as the heat from his flesh teases me higher. My every sense feels on high alert during this encounter. I’ve never done anything so daring in my entire life. The next kiss presses harder and little shocks of arousal dart through my core.

“That’s nice,” I say, resisting the primal urge to grind myself into his face. “But I need more.”

I glance down into Tony’s light brown eyes and see an intensity I’ve never seen on a man’s face. To know it’s directed toward me feels even more amazing. “Tell me what you want.” His hot hands skate up my thighs to rest near the aroused juncture between my legs.

I feel the wetness pooling in my panties, my body eager and ready to be with this man I just met. More than anything I want his fingers teasing me to a release. “Slip your thumbs under my underwear and stroke me.”

He pulls his hot lips away from the damp cotton panel of my panties and breathes deep. “Yes, ma’am.”

A prickling ignites my skin, sending the hairs on end when he calls me ma’am. I like it.

I like it a lot.

Two thick digits slide under the delicate fabric, one angling for my aroused bud and one slipping deeper toward my waiting wetness. A jolt of pleasure rips through me the second his thumb makes contact with my clit. An instant later, his other thumb presses against my tight opening.

“You’re very wet.” His voice rumbles into the evening, almost reverent, like I’m a precious object he’s not sure how to handle. “I want to taste you.”

“Not yet.” There’s no way I could handle his mouth right now. I’d lose it completely and my credibility on driving the bus in this scenario would blow up in my face. My breath hitches and I gather myself, aiming for calm, cool and collected. “Only when I say.”

A moan of protest echoes into the night, cutting off when his hungry kisses pepper my thighs. My legs widen of their own accord and I slide down the cool brick a fraction of an inch, heedless of the snags my clothes will receive. The stiffness of his thumb pushes deep inside me and after a few plunges a small groan erupts from my lips.

It’s been months since I’ve been with anyone. I’m so turned on by this man doing exactly what I want, what I told him to do, that I fear I won’t last long. The slick pressure on my clit starts to circle, driving me even higher.

“Come here and kiss my mouth,” I say. His hands pull away and I feel bereft of his touch. I hastily add, “Don’t stop touching me. Use your fingers instead.”

In a flash, the sexy businessman stands, ravaging my mouth with a passion I’ve never had directed toward me. A deep rumble sounds in his throat while his lips cover mine. The frenzied action reveals his pent-up arousal and desire, and I’m almost giddy with the power surge I feel. He truly wants me. Not just what I can do for him, but wants me and what I’m making him feel. What a rush!

Two slick fingers pump into my sex while Tony sucks on my bottom lip, nipping it once in his haste. He leans in to deepen the kiss and the length of his erection presses against my hip. I want nothing more than to tell him to take me right here—to beg this gorgeous man to do me until I scream his name—but a part of my brain still holds on to the act.

I bet he can have any woman he wants any time. I need to stand out from the others. For once, I want to be the desired one. My mind empties as exquisite waves of pleasure build and spill through my limbs.

I break the intense kiss to focus on what I need to do. “On your knees,” I whisper. “Now.”

Tony complies and gazes up at me with an eager look on his face. “Yes?”

“Pull the lace aside and lick me.”

The evening air brushes against my heated flesh before his hot tongue laps at my engorged button. One firm hand holds the material aside while the other pumps steadily in and out of me.

A moan of delight drifts out as Tony’s clever tongue zeros in on my clit, pushing me beyond all boundaries of pleasure. My breath hitches again and Tony moves faster, plunging his fingers in me furiously while sucking my bud between his lips. His pointed tongue tickles the aroused skin, and the combined sensations propel me up and over the edge.

An intense release rips through me, lighting my nerve endings and sending shudders to cascade over my body. Tony eases his movements, gently tonguing my wet flesh.

Warmth infuses me as I collapse against the bricks, panting for breath. I can’t believe what I’ve just done. And in public! I’ve essentially had sex with a stranger. A drop-dead gorgeous stranger, but a stranger nonetheless. Granted, it was one-sided sex, but still not something I’ve ever done.

Tony eases my panties back in place before standing. The arousal engulfing his entire body makes his movements stiff. Even in the dim light, I see the outline of his protruding cock straining against his tailored slacks.

A smile curves my lips as the prefect response to the evening comes to me. Damn. Can I pull this off? We’ll have to see.

I slide my skirt down my hips, smoothing the creases out with the flat of my hand. “You did a good job.” Tony smiles and reaches for me, but I side step out of his grasp. “Next time might be your turn.” My face sets into a distant mien of confidence I’ve never felt before. “Give me your number. Maybe I’ll call.”

Chapter Two

TONY

“Sir? Sir?” My assistant’s voice crackles from the speakerphone, shaking me out of daydreams. “Are you there?”

I shift my growing erection and try to focus on the here and now. This is the third time this morning my thoughts have drifted to the black haired temptress from the bistro last night. “I’m here.”

“Your eleven o’clock is rescheduled for one-thirty and your lunch appointment is moved up to twelve.”

I nod and check my electronic calendar on Outlook with a click. “Got it.”

“You’ll be cutting it close to get back in time, so don’t linger over lunch.”

I smile at the added instructions from the ultra-organized woman. “Yes, Deidra. I can handle it.”

She clicks off the speaker function and my mind trails back to my recent preoccupation of last night. Who was Heather? How can I see her again? Where can I find her?

Frustration boils in my gut as I realize I have no way of contacting her. Maybe she’ll call? The indignity of having to wait on a woman, any woman, feels maddening…and, if I’m honest—quite arousing. She was so sexy when she took control. The power wasn’t mine for a change and, I have to admit, I liked it.

I liked it a lot.

As I scroll through the recent figures for tomorrow’s acquisition, it occurs to me this mysterious woman might be exactly what I need in my life. Someone to keep me on my toes, keep me guessing—someone else who calls the shots for a change.

A thrill spikes through me as I recall my painfully aroused state twelve hours ago. Last night’s shock when she sauntered back into the bistro was unprecedented. No woman I’ve ever been with would deny my release, especially after I made sure she was pleased first.

I wanted to thrust into her and barrel toward my own relief—to hell with the consequences. I waited a moment after she left, watching, hoping she’d turn and come back with a smile on her face. When she didn’t, my heart beat even faster. Blood pounded through my body and my aching cock wept, not ready to give up on fulfillment.

I’d never felt so alive in my life. Her smell on my fingers lingered for hours, driving me slowly insane with the remembrance of her release. The slim woman peaked on a restaurant’s patio—practically in public—showing an abandon and freedom I’ve never experienced. She was stunning in her sexuality. Confident and completely in control of the situation…and me.

My cock hardens behind my fly. I’ve got to get this woman out of my head. I’ve work to do. I glance at the flat screen on my desk, not really knowing where to start my day.

Who am I kidding? I need to find her.

I reach for the phone.

The phone rings an inordinate amount of times before I hear a voice. “Match Made in Heaven, this is Linda.”

“Hi Linda. It’s Anthony Carmine.” I’m this close to finding her. Warmth steals over me, coating me from head to foot. “I attended your event last night at Manhattan Wine.”

“Ah, yes. Nice to hear from you Mr. Carmine. Did you enjoy yourself?”

Immediately I see Heather in my mind, leaning up against the brick wall, lips parted, breathing shallow as she comes. I clear my throat. “Umm, yes. I had a great time.”

“Good! That’s what I like to hear.”

“I’m actually calling to get the name of one of the ladies I chatted with.”

“A personalized email went out today with everyone’s prospects.”

I recall the email I opened this morning on my way to work. Heather’s name was not in it. “Well…she wouldn’t have put my name down, I don’t think.”

A silence meets me on the other end of the line. “Oh dear. You mean you’d like the name of someone who didn’t check off to meet you?”

Thinking back to the darn clipboard we were all saddled with, I realize there’s no way Heather marked hers and handed it in. After our…encounter…on the secluded patio, she made a beeline for the exit. “Yes, someone who maybe forgot to hand in her form.”

“I collected all the clipboards when the event ended. All forms were accounted for.”

Damn. I know she couldn’t have filled hers regarding me. I never saw her lift a pen when I sat with her. “We…chatted…outside for a while. But I didn’t get her last name.”

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Carmine. I can’t reveal anyone’s name without permission.”

Anger spikes through my calm façade. This is not going as well as I planned. “Can you make an exception?”

“No sir, I cannot.”

“What if I promised to donate a large sum of money to your favorite charity?”

A distinct iciness creeps into her voice. “No.”

A sigh escapes me and my shoulders slump. Money won’t buy me out of this one. I’ll have to try another avenue. “Okay, thanks for your time.”

We end the call and I shift in my seat. The sensitive helmet of my cock rubs against my underwear, driving me to further distraction. I reach down to move myself, hoping to find a comfortable position.

Impossible.

I’m aching to jerk off, an act I don’t normally have to perform unless traveling for business in an isolated area.

Unbidden, the image of Heather across the bistro table blossoms in my mind, bringing back the exact moment she asked if I wanted someone to tell me what to do. Her long, black hair cascaded over a shoulder, the trailing ends hugging the underside of one pert breast. An enigmatic smile creased the delicate features on her fresh face. No one would have guessed her simple sweater and skirt hid a cauldron of sexual heat bubbling below the surface.

No pretense of heavy makeup, no overly done hairstyle a man can’t touch, no slave to fashion…well, except those spiked heels she wore. If she hadn’t barked that order at me to turn off my phone, I could have easily missed her. And that would have been a crying shame.

The memory of her taste has me jumping up to lock the office door, right as I reach to unzip my fly. The pressure mounting in me has to come out or I’ll be useless all damn day. A small part of me is annoyed at how she left me hanging last night, but as my fist closes over the flesh of my engorged cock, I have to admit I don’t care.

I free the swollen organ and feel like an eager teenager discovering the joys of self-pleasure as I pump my length up and down. My head leans on the chair back as I close my eyes and picture Heather telling me to get on my knees. The skin slides up and down in my grip, creating a warm friction.

I recall Heather’s husky voice guiding my thumbs to her wet sex. Her musky smell spilled into the night, choking out the lingering aromas of the city.

A bead of come leaks out the weeping slit of my cock and trails down the side. I massage the slick warmth around my shaft in a circular twist of my fist and increase the pressure on each stroke, driving myself closer to a peak.

My mouth waters at the remembered taste of her. She was so sexy when she came, mewling soft little sounds of pleasure deep in her throat. I want to slide into her tight wetness and feel her writhe around my flesh. I’d make her call out her release, not stifle the noises like last night. The image of driving myself deep and fast into her permeates my mind, forcing out all other thoughts.

The arousal I’ve felt all night and all morning combined with the stimulation of my hand promises to deliver a powerful peak. The pressure builds in the base of my cock and all I hear in my head is Heather moaning her pleasure while I plunge inside her. I jerk my fist faster, willing my fantasy to become real. At the last moment I remember to cup my left hand around the head and catch my come as it releases.

Wave after wave of sensation shudders through me in time with my pulsing prick. Tension flows out of my body as calmness enters my brain. I open my eyes and reach for the tissues in my top drawer. Steely shards of determination spike down my spine as I clean up and toss the tissues away.

I want her. Man, do I want her.

At least now I should be able to get some work done.

I wonder how long she will make me wait before she calls. I will find this woman, if it’s the last thing I do.

The packed upscale sushi restaurant hums with its usual business luncheon crowd. Every slender woman with dark hair has me turning to see if she’s Heather. This establishment is only a block from the wine bistro—she could work nearby. My release this morning only took the edge off my obsession.

My best friend, Marcus, one of the lawyers on our legal advising team for the current merger, thumps his water glass loudly on table. “What the hell is with you today? Your mind was somewhere else through that whole meeting.”

I shrug and look away, not willing to talk about what I experienced last night with Heather. Marcus wouldn’t understand why some slip of a woman with a commanding voice flicked all my switches. Hell, I’m not sure if I know why.

Marcus ignores my avoidance and barrels on. “Brian is trying to circumvent all you’ve set up on the Rafferty buyout. You see that, right?” He folds his napkin and places it on the table. “He’s not just being an obtuse ass.”

I stare a tad too long at a passing Asian woman with flowing black hair. She smiles at me, misunderstanding my gaze. Eagerness lights her eyes with an invitation I can’t fail to miss. “Yes. I figured out Brian’s play a couple of days ago. He’s hoping to undercut my bid so he’ll look better to Nikko.”

Marcus checks out a blonde at the next table while reaching for the bill. “Mr. Apostolopolous knows who the better negotiator is. You’ve made more money for his family than anyone else in the history of the company.”

I smile at my college friend’s loyalty. “Well, they didn’t go public and start to acquire other businesses until twenty years ago…” I raise a hand to cut off the other man who looks like he’s ready to protest and proclaim my success loudly. “I appreciate the sentiment, but you know as well as I do—in this business, you’re judged by your last deal more than anything else.” We rise after he signs the bill.

“True.” Marcus examines his suit for signs of disorderliness, brushing off lint no one can see but him.

“So,” I begin casually as we make our way to the door, hoping his full stomach will prevent him from making unfounded leaps. “What did you think of last night’s speed dating event?”

A snort sounds from behind me. “Two ladies selected me for a follow-up date. Not bad. How about you?”

I refrain from telling him all of the ladies I sat with before Heather requested a follow-up date with me. After Heather’s table, there was no one else I cared to meet. “I had a good time.”

“Really? You bugged out early, if I recall correctly.”

The warming spring air hits us as we step onto the sidewalk, bringing with it the hint of cigarette smoke, reminding me of the lingering scent on last night’s patio. My cock lurches painfully in my pants as the smell triggers thoughts of the black haired temptress. “Did you sit with a woman named Heather?” The question slips out before I recall her teasingly asking me about my sandy-haired friend.

“No.” He quickens his pace as we negotiate through the bustle of people, a leer creasing his face. “Is she the reason you left early?”

Crap. I should have picked my question more carefully. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?” He laughs and slaps me on the back. “What the hell does that mean?”

Heat flushes my face and I’m reluctant to say more about the slender beauty, not willing to share our encounter with him or anyone else just yet. “I talked to her, but she didn’t mark me down on her clipboard for a follow up.”

“You asked me in case she wrote down my name, is that it?” Marcus’s guffaws increase in volume as we cross the street to Rockefeller Center. We dodge a taxi and a bike messenger before making it to the curb. I push through the glass door of our building, hoping to escape his humor. His voice follows me, unrepentant in its joy. “Maybe for a change of pace, a girl might have picked me over the infamous ‘Strut’? The horror!”

I ignore him and his reference to my old college nickname, pausing my advance through the lobby for a group making their way to the elevators. A glance at my watch reveals it’s a few minutes past one, leaving very little time for the long ride upstairs to make my conference call. “Forget I said anything. I hoped you could help me find her.”

“You raising a finger to find a woman? Now that’s a first.”

My anger gets the best of me as I try to make my way around the crowd. “Can it, asshole.” If we weren’t on the fortieth floor, I’d take the damn stairs. Marcus passes me, his laughter ringing out, as he weaves toward the coffee shop in the lobby and his afternoon caffeine fix. He works his way through the milling throngs to stand in line while I sift slowly through the bodies toward the elevator banks.

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of sleek, long, black hair spilling down the back of a slender woman in spiked heels. I stop cold, turning to stare at the woman handing her money to the coffee barista. Is that Heather? In the lobby of my own building?

The woman turns to face me, a smile curving her lips as she sniffs the aromatic steam rising from her to-go lid. Holy shit, it is her! I change course and angle my way toward her, no longer caring if I’m late for my call.

She’s wearing a shorter skirt today, one that ends above her knees, and a crisp white blouse with ruffles running down the front. All she needs is glasses and she’d look like the sexiest teacher on the face of the earth.

The noise and bustle of the lunch-hour crowd fades away. My vision narrows to the clean, simple look of the woman crossing the open area. No one would suspect the passion lurking beneath her calm exterior, and blood pumps toward my groin thinking about it. I step purposefully into her path and zero in on her eyes, waiting for the moment she recognizes me.

Heather hesitates in her step and an expression I can’t read clouds her face for a split second. It’s soon replaced by a sultry smile that burns me all the way to my toes.

“Hi,” I say. Oh yeah, that sounds suave and sure of myself.

Her dark-as-sin eyes narrow a little as she examines me from head to toe, making me feel like she’s checking out a side of beef and deciding on whether to buy it. “Well, well, who do we have here?” She stops in front of me, jutting a hip to the side, no longer looking like a teacher, but more like a woman completely aware of her sex appeal. “I’m surprised to see you, Tony.”

Marcus looks in our direction, his stare a little too assessing for my taste. His knowledgeable gaze meets mine with a slight snigger of humor tilting his mouth. “I…uhh…” A lump forms in my throat as a man walking behind Heather checks out her ass and legs, almost running into someone during his distraction.

I grab her arm and drag her to the stairwell, unwilling to have her ogled by everyone in the lobby while I try to sputter out a coherent thought. “Hey!” she protests. I let go of her arm and turn to her in the empty space, hoping to stem any justified anger before it starts.

She has an expression of shock on her face, but it seems to be more for the spilled coffee on her hand than my impulsive actions of pulling her toward the stairwell.

“Sorry about that.” She whips her hand out to shake off the spilled droplets. Tension leaks out of me now that I’ve found her. What has this woman done to me in so short a time? “I wanted to talk to you…alone.”

She looks around, unafraid and slightly annoyed. “You’ve got it. Now, what do you need?”

Could she not have been thinking about me after last night? Do men pleasure her on patios all the time? A slow burn boils in my gut at the thought of other men touching her like I did. I want more of her, plain and simple, but what if she doesn’t feel the same?

I try and calm my raging heartbeat by taking a deep breath. “I enjoyed last night.”

A smile forms on her oval face, a small dimple appearing in her left cheek. The innocence of the dimple contrasts strongly with the heat I see deep in her eyes. “I did, too.” A pink pointed tongue darts out to wet her lips. “I thought my enjoyment was obvious.”

“I’d like to see you again,” I say, stepping closer and touching a lock of her shiny hair.

She holds her coffee out to the side and moves one step closer, running her free hand down to cup the growing bulge behind my fly. “Would you now?” She gently kneads my expanding flesh. There’s a rush through my veins as all the blood in my body hightails it to my crotch. Damn, she’s so freaking hot.

I lean down to kiss her dark red mouth and she tilts away, refusing me.

Perhaps I should have asked. “May I have a kiss, please?”

Her lips touch mine in a gentle brush, more of a tease, and pull away. My prick stands at full mast as she leisurely trails her fingers up and down the length. “That will have to last you ‘til the weekend.”

“The weekend?”

“I’ll call you tomorrow and give you the details.” One last squeeze and she steps back, hunger in her eyes as she checks out my tented pants.

She turns and leaves, the door whisking shut behind her.

Damned if that woman doesn’t know how to make an exit.

Chapter Three

HEATHER

Carla and I meet for an after-work cup of coffee—decaf for me this late in the day. I finish relaying my previous night’s antics with Tony while she listens with slack-jawed amazement.

“I’m not so sure about this, Heather.” Carla pushes away her empty coffee mug, a doubtful expression on her face. “It sounds like the patio escapade was sexy as hell, but what if he didn’t go for it?” I look away, unable to voice what I’m feeling inside at her lack of support. “He could have laughed at you and walked out…or maybe he’s some pervert and public sex is his thing.”

The noises of the crowded café hum in the background, distracting me from the stab I feel at her comments. I stare out the window at the growing darkness and search for a way to reply. How can I explain the power I experienced in those stolen moments behind the bistro? The look of sheer desire on Tony’s face was all the encouragement I needed to keep going.

I stifle a sigh and return my attention to my lusty-looking friend. I doubt Carla’s ever been told she was a cold and distant lover.

Still, her words don’t sit right with me, even if she didn’t intend to be hurtful. I screw up my courage, channeling a little of the woman I pretended to be last night—and this afternoon. “Don’t you think saying he’d laugh at me is a little harsh?”

Carla has the grace to blush as she realizes what she said. “I’m sorry, hon.” She reaches across the table and grabs my hand. “I just don’t want to see you hurt again.”

“Being my normal self hasn’t won me any proposals.” My lonely apartment and dying plants seem to mock me whenever I step across the threshold alone…again. “You’re the one who convinced me to go.” I stare into my best friend’s eyes. “Did you only want me there to make you look better?”

A startled gasp spills from Carla. “Seriously? What kind of friend would that make me? A pretty bad one, if you ask me.”

I shrug and look away, pulling my hand out of hers. “You’re not too supportive of me right now. And aren’t you the one who suggested I try something new for a change?”

“You’re right.” She sighs deeply and slumps in her chair. “I certainly have no room to talk when you actually do it. I’m worried about you. Ordering a guy around isn’t like you…at all. And let’s face it—you don’t know anything about this man.”

“When do we really know any guy?”

Carla shrugs, looking uncomfortable with my antagonistic question.

Carla glances at her watch. The time for her exercise class must be getting close. She fidgets in her chair, looking unsure at the silence. A part of me wants to let her sit and stew. So, I do.

Instead of jumping in to placate her feelings, I focus once more on the absolute rush that coursed through me last night against the damp brick. When I awoke today, I was able to ignore past fears and relive only the pleasure—the thrill of having a gorgeous man focused on my needs for a change. Reluctant to have the fantasy end, I laid in bed and relived the experience all over again, touching myself like Tony had the night before.

Getting dressed this morning, I felt like a new person. Perhaps starting the day with a massive orgasm helped. I picked my shortest skirt and even put on the red lipstick I bought for New Year’s two years ago. That night Rick hooked up with another woman on the dance floor, right in front of me. Arrogant prick. A month later, I heard he’d caught something from her. Serves him right. I bet Rick wouldn’t have done that to the new Heather of last night.

No sirree. Tony listened to her. I coasted on the satisfied air of our risqué encounter all the way to work. The reality of my life closed in when I stepped through the advertising firm’s doors and had to deal with my job. But for a little while, I felt like a woman in charge of her sexuality. And damned if I didn’t enjoy it.

Carla starts to gather her things like she’s about to leave. I was silent for too long in my own thoughts, but I haven’t told her everything about Tony yet. “I saw him again, earlier today.”

“What?!?” She flounces back in her seat, an eager look on her face. “How could you leave that part out? Dish, girlfriend. Did you call him right away or what?”

I smile at her enthusiasm, thrilled we’re on better ground again. “I ran into him, of all places, in the lobby of my building. Can you believe it? We may have been working a few dozen floors apart for years and never knew it.”

“Well, it is a damn big building with thousands of people coming and going each day.” She leans onto the table with her elbows, clearly hoping to hear more. “Did he spot you first? What did he say?”

“He stepped in front of me after I bought my afternoon latte.”

“Uh-huh, and?”

“He seemed nervous. Nothing like he was when he sat down at the bistro to meet me.”

Carla laughs loudly, drawing attention to us, and reaches for my arm. “I bet not! Certainly not after you ordered him to eat you out and then walked away, leaving him hanging!”

Several male heads turn our way. “Shh…” Warmth heats my cheeks and I resist the urge to fan myself. “What are you trying to do? Broadcast my exploits to the whole coffee shop?” My God, maybe I’ll think twice about telling her stuff next time, assuming there is a next time.

My friend sobers, instantly contrite. “I’m sorry, Heather. I got carried away. Lord knows I’ve never done anything so exciting.”

A surge of pride sings through me. If my parents were alive I’m sure neither of them would be patting me on the back for my behavior last night, but getting even a modicum of approval from Carla works wonders for my self-esteem.

I sit a little straighter and notice a man glancing at us over his iPad. I smile at him, embracing a boldness I’ve never had. He returns my smile and I feel a glow inside me at the attention. He could have overheard Carla and thinks I’m a bit of a slut, but I’m going to choose to ignore that possibility and bask in the simple joy of his response.

I relay the rest of our chance meeting, finishing with telling her about how I cupped his balls through his pants and then tossed out my invitation for the weekend.

“Wow! I’m not sure what to say. Normally, I’d be the one giving wild sexual advice, but you don’t seem to need it. Where has all this come from, Heather?”

I open my mouth to answer but nothing comes out. Do I tell her about the erotic novels I’ve been reading the past few months? We share everything, but she’s never been much of a reader and I didn’t think she’d share my new racy tastes. “I… uhh…”

“It sure as hell can’t be from your last lover, that two-timing prick, Jimmy.”

I shudder as the whoremonger with the predilection for hitting on anyone with a vagina under the age of fifty pops to mind. “No, Jimmy didn’t teach me much—except how to cry.”

Carla’s face crumbles. “Oh, geez. I’m sorry for bringing up that rat bastard’s name.”

I pat her hand to reassure her. “No big deal. I’ve certainly picked more than my share of jerks the past six years.” Carla and I met in the advertising firm when we were both fresh out of college. She was a natural in sales and went on to head her own accounts at a smaller firm while I stayed with the same company, slowly working my way through the ranks to my current position as assistant to the CFO.

My old friend wiggles her eyebrows, possibly looking to change the topic. “So, what do you plan on doing this weekend with Tony? You gonna go out and buy a bunch of sado-masochistic toys and do up your spare bedroom like some freaky-ass Fifty Shades of Grey scenario?”

“No!” Horror wizzes through me at the mention of the popular book. “I’m willing to try some new stuff and step out of my comfort zone, not take on a whole new lifestyle.”

“I dunno, this high-powered corporate guy might be into all that whips and chains shit.”

I doubt Carla has read the book, and neither have I, so I refrain from commenting any more. “There’s got to be a middle ground.” I reach around in my mind and debate explaining some of the passionate scenes I’ve read and have dreamt of trying with someone I trust.

Carla still doesn’t look convinced. She glances at her watch. “Sorry, but this time I really do need to jet. I’m going to be late for my spin class if I don’t hurry.”

I nod and rise to give her a hug goodbye. She flounces toward the door with her normal effervescence, attracting attention from men as her golden head weaves through the tables.

In a moment I’m alone, staring into my cold coffee. How far am I willing to take this game with Tony? His nervous reaction today was a complete surprise. It enabled me to slip into the act much more easily than the night before.

Telling him I planned to call him tomorrow puts me in a new quandary. What the hell am I going to do with him this weekend? Is this all about sex and me fulfilling some fantasy he might be having? Or do I invite him on a normal date?

Gathering my belongings, I decide to walk the five blocks home. Maybe inspiration will hit me on the city streets. The smiling man with the iPad glances up as I pass. He’s in his mid-thirties and quite handsome. He raises his cup and tips his head to me before allowing his eyes to travel down my figure, lingering on my exposed legs. His bold stare swells my chest with confidence.

Could he really have heard the part Carla said so loudly about the patio? I hold my head up and decide I don’t care. I arrange my features in a pleasant expression, giving him no invitation to go further and keep moving toward the door, emboldened by the attention.

The elation lasts a few blocks and I pause outside a small bodega, eyeing a grouping of fresh strawberries. In a book I read last month, there was an intimate picnic for two where they fed one another and then boinked like rabbits on the checkered blanket. Hmm…I could do a bunch of finger foods in my living room and we could see where it leads.

Do I want to have sex with him this weekend? I cross the suggestion off my mental list of possible developments. It’s too soon.

A chill of hesitation wraps around my heart. If I perform any scenario as myself, he might not be interested. What better place to dress up and try slipping on a new skin than in the privacy of my own home? That way, if I mess up no one will witness my humiliation except me.

Well, me and the man I’m with. But who am I to kid myself? I have no doubt he’s in this for the sexual thrill. Not because he wants me for me. Heck, how could it be for anything else when we don’t even know each other? If he doesn’t like what I try and he leaves then I’ll know this whole idea is a wash. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

I fill a basket with fruits and vegetables, a clear plan forming in my mind of what I can prepare to serve him. And maybe, if I steer the night exactly like I want, I might be able to pull it off. There’s one more store I want to hit and then I’ll be ready for Saturday.

It’s Friday, minutes before five o’clock. I’ve let him stew long enough. If he’s like anyone I’ve known who was even remotely interested in a person, he’ll be thinking I changed my mind by now. I practiced what I’d say over and over until I had the tone and inflection exactly as I want. After two sessions of deep breathing into a paper bag, I’m calm enough to call.

I shut the office door, grabbing my cell phone off the corner of the desk on my way. I settle deep into the leather chair and take a huge lungful of air. I can do this. I dial his number and hit send, mentally shoving the butterflies in my stomach to my lower intestines.

Tony answers the phone on the second ring, his greeting distracted and preoccupied.

“Have I called at a bad time?” I ask, my voice as deep and sexy as I can manage and still sound like myself.

“Heather? Is that you?”

Elation at hearing his voice zings through me. I hear a shift across the line, like he’s either shuffling the phone or moving to another room. “Yes, it’s me. Were you worried I wouldn’t call?”

“If you want the truth, yeah. I wondered if you were going to blow me off.”

I laugh, the practiced sultry sound riding the airwaves between us. “Not anytime soon—and only if you’re very lucky.”

He pauses a moment. Perhaps my double entendre has thrown him off balance. Good. That’s what I hoped for.

“We closed a huge deal this afternoon.” His tone sounds more confident now. “I feel like celebrating. Would you like to meet for drinks or dinner tonight? Maybe where we met?”

My heart skips a beat. He’s been thinking about me more than I thought if he’s that eager to get together—and suggesting the same place we met. Who knew being an emotionally unavailable bitch would be such an aphrodisiac for some men?

“I’m busy tonight,” the lie trips easily from my lips.

“Oh, okay. I’d like to take you to dinner tomorrow night then. Your choice, anywhere you’d like.”

“No,” I say.

“No? But I thought you said…”

I cut him off, eager to put the conversation back in my playing field. “I’d like you to come to my place. I want to cook for you.”

“Really? Wow, okay. That sounds great.”

I give him the time and my address. “Come casual, but be prepared—you will not be getting lucky, nor spending the night.”

“What?”

“It’s never polite to assume.” I grin, pleased with how I handled the call. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Saturday evening arrives sooner than I expected. I spent the entire day cleaning my small apartment, preparing food, and physically primping for the night. I may have said he wouldn’t be getting lucky, but I shaved the lower half of my body and lotioned every inch of skin in preparation for the activities I hope will come to fruition. It’s a good thing the walls are thick, or the neighbors might have wondered who I was having a one-sided conversation with all damn day while I practiced my lines.

I fuss over everything one last time, examining the arranged trays, the wine, and the inviting room with its subdued lighting, soft music, and comfy floor pillows. It’s not lost on me that I’ve unconsciously made a picnic in my living room. That steamy scene stuck with me more than I thought. Well, it will either work, or it won’t.

Five times today, I picked up the phone to cancel with Tony. Each time I put it down and talked myself back from the proverbial ledge. It’s a simple evening of talking, drawing out some information about him…getting him to open up…fooling around a little if things go as planned…I can do this, dammit!

I stride to the bathroom to check my appearance again. My hand shakes as I dust on the fine powder to set my minimal makeup. I test the all-day lipstick on a tissue one more time, paranoid it might smear during a crucial moment and make me look like a demented clown. Is seduction always such hard work?

Can I intrigue a man enough to follow my lead or am I the cold fish in bed Jimmy accused me of? He was such a self-centered bastard, always racing for the finish, never caring about my needs. I shake off the negative thoughts and pace my narrow hallway. That one summer of acting in college has helped a lot so far, but I feel like I’m wound tight enough to run to Jersey and back without stopping for water.

Okay, what is the worst that can happen tonight? He laughs at my attempts to be assertive and leaves. That would be the worst thing. Or he could be a maniac who chops me up and feeds the pieces to his dog.

Stop it! You will not talk yourself into a failure this time! Focus on how good-looking he is, and the fact that he wants you.

The doorbell rings and my mind freezes. Yeah, he wants me—for now.

Chapter Four

TONY

The lyrical chime dies beyond the closed door while I shift from foot to foot. Her building is nicer than I anticipated and proves that whatever she does for a living, she’s more than moderately successful. My own apartment near the office is subsidized by the company, so I wouldn’t have to commute from my building in Hoboken, thus working longer hours. Nikko is nothing but smart with managing lost employee time versus cost.

I grasp the flowers in my hand, conflicted if I should have brought them or not. Deidra always sends them, picking out lush and lavish arrangements for the latest woman in my life. But this time, I chose my own bouquet. It was an impulsive buy when I saw the vendor on the corner. The sunflowers made me think of Heather the moment I saw them. Bold and simple, eye-catching and strong.

Her instructions to dress casual left me scrambling. Jeans are for working on the old apartment building and going to bars, or hanging out with the guys, not for impressing a woman. The slacks I picked don’t belong in a suit pairing, but their custom fit and soft material look good with the navy polo I’m wearing.

Damn, what’s taking her so long to answer? I check the number on the doorplate, wondering if I’m at the wrong unit. My breath releases in a whoosh. I’m at the right place. Maybe she’s in the bathroom or has music on and didn’t hear it. I reach to press the bell again as the door swings open, the sound of James Taylor floating out.

Heather greets me with a slow smile. The black silk of her lounging pants drape elegantly to the floor, covering the delicious legs I’ve fantasized about since Thursday. The red and white mandarin-collared blouse she’s wearing is only halfway closed, a hint of black material peeking through the opening. My fingers itch to undo the knotted buttons to reveal more skin.

“Hi, Tony.” She gestures with a hand while I stare stupidly at her in silence. “Please, come in.”

“These are for you.” I enter, thrusting the flowers toward her. What the hell is wrong with me that I lose all sense of intelligence when I’m near this woman?

A look of wonder crosses her face to be quickly replaced by an appreciative smile. “Thank you. I’ll put them in water.”

She closes the door behind me and sashays across the open space, then around the granite peninsula dividing her kitchen from the living area. “Make yourself comfortable, I’ll be right back.”

I nod and take the time to glance around her apartment. Warm bamboo flooring runs throughout the whole space. The small entryway spills into a step down living room. The dying light of the evening pours through tall windows, casting a soft glow on the couch and loveseat arranged around a shag rug. A deep cream color coats the walls, and over a half dozen framed photographs shine under display lights. They’re black and white pictures from all over the city and other places I don’t recognize.

Off to the left is a large dining area that holds a small table for six and an ultra organized desk in a library-like wall unit. I step farther into her apartment, hearing cabinet doors open and close in the kitchen. I catch a glimpse of her cherry red and white blouse as she bustles toward the sink with the flowers.

The dining table isn’t set for a meal and I turn to the couch area, wondering if we’re going to eat there. A low coffee table, festooned with three long platters of food, has been pushed off the rug. Large pillows in soft earth tones lay scattered across the couch and rug, like a big comfy pit of relaxation.

Tension eases out of me as I realize she’s set up a casual dinner for us to relax and get to know each other. A big part of me worried our first encounter would set the stage and all we’d be about was sex. I’ve had relationships like that before, but in the end you’re left with nothing to talk about—highly satisfied, yes, but emotionally empty in a few weeks and bored. This one looks interesting enough to last longer.

Heather strolls back into the room, her eyes bright and glassy, belying the casual grace with which she moves. Could she be as nervous as I am? She sets the colorful bouquet on the low table amid the dishes and then faces me.

“I thought a meal here would be more comfortable…and intimate.” Her voice drops on the last part of the sentence causing my cock to stir.

Down, fella. No need to sport a woody two minutes in the door and embarrass myself. I run a hand through my hair. “That sounds nice.”

She turns away, looking like she’s hiding a bit of amusement at my expense. I glance down, reassuring my prick is not noticeably changed or that my pants look funny. Nope. Everything looks good.

The slender woman lowers herself to the rug in an elegant move, one I have no hope of duplicating. Leaning back on a large pillow, she tucks both feet, in their black heels, to the side. “May I pour you some wine?”

My gaze glues to those sexy shoes. I’ve never cared much for women’s footwear before, but on her they seem to draw my eye over and over again. I think they may be the ones she was wearing when I met her.

“Tony?”

I glance up and catch the smirk on her face before she smothers it. “Uh, yes?”

“Would you like a glass?” She holds out a stemless wine glass filled with red liquid.

I remember my manners and join her on the rug, then reach for the offered drink. “Thank you. What kind is it?”

Her eyes meet mine and our fingers brush as I take the glass, sending a jolt of awareness through me. “An Australian Shiraz. I’ve been enjoying them for a few months.”

I settle against a firm pillow and take a sip. The strong flavors, hinting of blackberry and currant, spill across my palate to ignite another sense I’ve neglected lately. “Nice.”

The mellow tones of James Taylor fill my ears, melting away more of the stress and anxiety from the prior week. I don’t think I’ve been with a woman in years who didn’t expect me to take her to a five star restaurant every night, fly her to Vegas in the company jet for a weekend, or shower her with diamonds because she spread her legs for me.

And yet this one doesn’t even know my last name, what I really do for a living, or how much I’ve got in the bank. It’s refreshing. Her home tells me she’s not a gold digger, but come to think of it, what else do I know about her and her job?

“Tell me about yourself, Tony.” She must be thinking along the same lines that I am. “It was a shock running into you in the lobby the other day.”

Ah… here it comes. Once I tell her what I do and who I work for, I bet things will change between us. Maybe I can do a little creative avoidance. “Not much to tell.” I shrug. “I’ve worked in Rockefeller Center for nine years now. Pays the bills.”

“Nine years?” she repeats. “That tells me a lot about you.”

“Really?” I cock an eyebrow, wondering what it could possibly reveal about me.

Heather takes a leisurely sip of her drink, pink tongue licking a droplet near the rim before it slides down the side. “You’re loyal and hardworking.”

“How can you know that?”

“Nine years? Most men would have left for a better offer when one came along, so that tells me you’re loyal. You would’ve been canned a long time ago if you weren’t any good—hence, hardworking.” Her eyes narrow on me, traveling up and down my body. “I bet you’re ambitious, and have moved up the ranks fairly quick.”

I think about the long hours and lost weekends, not sure how quick my rise was. From the outside looking in, it might appear that way. I glance toward the stereo nestled under a flat screen TV, not sure how observant she is and how much is a lucky guess.

“Judging by the Breguet timepiece on your wrist, I’d say you love watches.”

My shocked bark of laughter erupts, sounding loud in the air previously dominated by the relaxing music. Heather’s mouth quirks up at one corner. “How did you recognize my watch?” I angle my head and assume a sterner tone. “Did you work at a carnival guessing people’s weight or age, but secretly you were just super observant?”

A sad look crosses her face and disappears. “No, my father had one. My mother bought it for him on their twentieth anniversary. He loved watches, too.” The melancholy moment passes before I have a chance to ask about her parents, and she stares at me with heat in her eyes. “I’d be willing to wager you wear an even more expensive one to work—especially if you’re going to close a deal like you did on Friday.”

I think of my collection of six watches, each well over twenty grand apiece and nestled in custom made self-winding cases. “Okay, now you’re just showing off.”

Heather laughs and grabs a plate of appetizers, doling out a selection of items to a smaller plate before handing it to me. “Tell me, what kind of music do you like?”

Our dinner progresses leisurely for over an hour, music shifting to more modern rock with a slow feel, the conversation flowing easily between us. Upon reflection, I realize she’s asked me more questions than I’ve asked her. I’d like to change that, but it seems every time I ask her something, she offers a minimal answer and steers the conversation back to me.

While I don’t mind talking about my favorite sports, movies, and books, I get the distinct feeling I’m being interviewed. Time to turn the tables and get some of my own curiosity sated.

“I forgot to ask, where do you work in the building?” I raise my wine, watching the simple grace of her movements as she picks another morsel to taste.

“Parkerson Advertising. On the twentieth floor.”

That name sounds familiar. I take a drink of wine, musing on how I know the name…

My sip goes down the wrong way and I sputter, thankfully closing my mouth before I shoot wine across her tan rug.

Holy shit. I received a write-up on Parkerson last week. Nikko mentioned it would be good to own an advertising firm to cut outgoing costs. I put out feelers for candidates and her company came up. We start organizing a bid for them very soon.

“You okay, Tony?”

“Excuse me.” I clear my throat. “Wine went down the wrong pipe.”

Heather moves to gather the small plates we’ve eaten from and I quickly jump up. “Please, let me.” No way can I say anything about a possible buyout. It might not happen. And what are the chances she’d be included in the negotiations?

I take the empty platters and dishes to the immaculate kitchen, pictures on the fridge catching my eye as I pass. One of a younger Heather with an older couple, and one with her and the blonde I spoke to at Manhattan Wine the other night. “Were you at speed dating with a friend, too?”

Heather comes in behind me and sees the picture I’m looking at. “Yes, that’s Carla.”

I nod, unwilling to share that she’s one of the woman who wrote my name on her sheet for a follow up date. I have no intention of calling any of them, and saying something now would be awkward, not to mention stupid.

Heather tilts her head, realizes I’m not going to say anything more, and opens the fridge. She pulls out a small dish of chocolate-covered strawberries, a joyous look of expectancy on her face. “Ready for a little dessert?” One slim hip slams the door shut and she saucily saunters back to the living room, the unspoken command for me to follow hanging in the air.

My mouth runs dry. What is it about her that makes me so freakin’ horny? I’ve been with models and debutantes, actresses and singers, but none of them made me feel as alive and aware as she does. It’s something about how she carries herself, unafraid and confident.

When I return to the living room, Heather has settled back on the pillows, placed the dish on a sofa cushion, and now slips off her heels. There’s a look of challenge on her face as she watches me toe off my shoes and ease down to my previous spot.

“Would you rub my feet?” Her voice carries a hint of overdone-sweetness. “Those heels were killer.”

I nod and scoot closer, motioning for her to place a foot on my thigh. My hands grasp her foot gently, one scooping her heel while the other digs a thumb into the arch. Her wide legged silk pants slip down her shapely calf, showing more skin than I’ve seen all evening.

A low moan of pleasure comes from her, triggering a response in the blood flow to my crotch. “God, that feels good. Really puts me in the mood to…relax.” An open expression of heat and lust crosses her face, the exact opposite of her words.

I skim my fingers over her sensitive skin, noting no reaction. “Not ticklish?”

A twinkle lights in her eye as she wiggles her tiny red-tipped toes. “Nope. Never have been.”

I’d take it as a challenge to make her giggle if I wasn’t so intent on getting her naked. Not seeing a lot of flesh has made me picture the lines of her body through her clothing, anticipating the moment when I may get to see more. There’s no doubt in my mind Heather is in charge, and if I make a move to seduce her, this whole evening will end in the blink of an eye.

Concentrating on her sore feet, I apply more pressure and use the heel of my hand. Each push against her flesh draws an answering pulse in my growing cock. I’ve never experienced this kind of arousal while rubbing a woman’s foot, and damn—it’s hot.

As I watch, her breathing quickens and her movements change. It’s as if parts of where I’m rubbing correspond with sexual reactions within her body. I think I’ve flustered her. She sits up and quickly unbuttons her blouse, slipping it off to toss on the couch.

Or, maybe she’s warm.

The thin chemise she’s wearing leaves nothing to the imagination, cupping her braless breasts and outlining her erect nipples. They look good enough to suck and I rip my gaze away, fearful if I’m too obvious I’ll ruin wherever this night might take me.

I’d love nothing more than to slip my hands up and…

“You’re good with your hands,” she says softly, leaning forward to snag a strawberry from the dish.

I jerk slightly, caught off guard as I pictured palming her sweet little tits. “Thanks.” I focus back on my task, working my knuckles on the hard spots of her tiny feet. My cock continues its rise, wedged in an uncomfortable position.

Each pass of my warm hands on her flesh makes me think about stroking her pussy the other night. Damn, I want to make this woman let go like that again. It was freeing, experiencing the open enjoyment in her features and the rapture of her release.

“Do my calf. Those muscles get stiff from the shoes, too.”

I bite the urge to smile and say yes, ma’am, silently moving my caress to her smooth ankle and then higher. Her supple flesh gives beneath my fingers as I massage gently. I’m tempted to adjust my erection but don’t want to get caught in my arousal. I’d like nothing more than to snug her hot little foot up against my groin so she can feel what she does to me.

Unable to keep the position any longer, I shift, bending one leg to give my engorged flesh some space. My movement isn’t lost on Heather and she picks that time to change feet. “Can you do my other foot, now?”

I nod, feeling tongue-tied. She stretches out the finished foot, brushing my swollen arousal. I hold my breath for a moment, unsure if she’s going to tease me with her foot or just rest it on me. The serene pose of my black-haired tormentor reveals nothing. She’s wearing an innocent expression of relaxation while I knead and work the kinks out of her foot.

A downward glance reveals her decadent red toes laying unmoving on my erection. The delicate scent of citrus and ginger reaches my nose, teasing me with its exotic combination. “You’re really good,” she whispers. “I think you’ve earned a strawberry or two.”

She pulls her feet from my thigh, grabs a strawberry, and straddles my lap before I can figure out her next move. With a twist of her fingers, she removes the stem before placing the strawberry halfway between her lips, tossing the leaves into the bowl. She leans forward, lowering her mouth to mine, and nudges the chocolate covered tip between my lips, encouraging me to bite.

My hands rise to grasp her hips as I sink my teeth into my half of the dark chocolate-covered delight. The melting candy dissolves in my mouth as the sweetness of the berry explodes across my tongue. I curl my fingers into her flesh and chew, savoring the tastes and the feel of her hot mouth pressed to mine. I swallow and lean closer to deepen our kiss, resisting with herculean effort the urge to grab her tight bottom.

Tentative hands cup my cheeks, thumbs grazing along my jaw line. Heather breaks the kiss and meets my eyes. “You taste divine.”

I stare at her red lips and my brain blanks.

“Would you like another?”

I nod, unable to form words that aren’t graphically explicit of what I’d like to do to her.

She repeats the process, teasing me with the nearness of her body. I’d love nothing more than to reach up and pinch one of her pert nipples or trail kisses down her neck. God, this slow seduction is killing me.

She breaks our kiss and stares deeply into my eyes. “You earned those strawberries, Tony. Did you enjoy them?”

Coherent thought returns and I respond. “Yes,” my voice comes out in a croak. I clear my throat. “Yes, I did.”

She smiles, like I’ve said the right thing. I’ll say anything you want to get a taste of you again.

She leans in and whispers in my ear, “I bet you give excellent back rubs.”

“I do.”

She pulls back to give me another smoldering gaze. “Want to do me?”

I’d like to do you all freakin’ night. I stare into her dark brown eyes, wondering if we’re both thinking the same thing.

“How about right here on the pillows?” She shifts, climbing off my lap, and I immediately feel the absence of her warmth on my thighs and where she held my cheeks.

Heather grabs pillows, tucking a small one under her hips as she spreads out, tilting up her silk-covered ass for display. In a moment, she’s arranged on her stomach and has grabbed a bottle from a lower shelf of the coffee table. Heather reaches to hand me the bottle, a coy look on her face. “Unless you’re tired?”

Shit. I think she asked me about rubbing her back, not about doing her here on the pillows. “Um, no.” I accept the oil. “I’m good.”

I move across the rug to get closer and gain a better vantage point for a massage. She said I wasn’t going to get lucky, but how far are we taking this? I’m dying to bend down and kiss her shoulder, but like before, I get the feeling she’s calling all the shots and if I do anything off-kilter, she’ll subtly redirect me.

I look down at her still form, mentally reigning myself from speculating further, wondering instead on where to start on her back.

“Heather?”

She looks over her shoulder. “Yes?”

“If I use oil, I’ll mess up your shirt.”

A slow grin spreads across her face. “We can’t have that, can we?”

She sits up with her back to me and lifts off her skimpy shirt, tossing the garment to the rug. Her hair cascades down her back, slowly hiding her dewy skin. She lies down without giving me even a glimpse of one pert nipple. So close!

Heather settles and gathers her hair in one hand, pulling it over her shoulder. “Is that better?”

Her slender back beckons my touch, and thankfully with her request for a massage, I’ve been granted permission to explore at will. “Yes.” I run a hand over her golden-hued flesh. Her warmth travels up my arm and joins the heat my raging hormones have stirred in my chest.

Have I never relaxed enough around a woman to feel this way? I’ve given back rubs in the past, but none of them felt so…intimate. I squirt oil in one hand then place the bottle nearby. I rub my hands together to heat the liquid, the squishy noise sounding oddly erotic, conjuring images of slick bodies meeting at their privates. My dick pulses in response.

Damn, this is fun.

Sufficiently prepped, I lay my hands on her back and lean on her slight frame, using my weight to press into her muscles. “You’re tight.” A low murmur meets my observation. “Been stressed lately?”

A strangled gasp turns into a muffled laugh. “Yeah. Maybe a little.”

“Can’t have that.” I dig into her back, working out the tension until the muscles smooth under my hand. “I’ll loosen you up in no time.”

After a few minutes on her upper back and shoulders, I slide my hands down the slender curve of her spine, wanting to go lower but afraid I’ll get oil on her silky pants. “Heather?”

“Hmm…?” The content drawl of sound pulls a tug of accomplishment from me.

“You need to move your clothes down a bit so I don’t get oil on them.”

Without rising she reaches back and wiggles a bit, sliding her pants to her lower thighs, exposing the lush round curves of her bare ass. I clamp my mouth shut, locking the sigh of appreciation inside. The split peach of her bottom, tilted up on the pillows, begs to be kissed, or smacked…or screwed…maybe all three…or more.

She looks over her shoulder, gaze lingering on my obvious erection. “How’s that?”

“P…,” my voice hitches and I try again. “Perfect.”

She’s got to know she’s driving me freakin’ insane, right? It’s not that she’s teasing me so much as arousing me beyond what I’m used to. Heather turns her head away, shifting her hair to the other shoulder.

I skim a hand down the dip of her back and cautiously palm one bare cheek. The heat radiates from her skin, enticing me to squeeze gently.

“Nice,” she purrs. “Use more oil on my low back.”

Oh, her butt is her low back, now? Is that what we’re calling it? I smother a smile, reaching for the oil and squirting a small pool in between the dimples above her firm cheeks. We can call it whatever she wants as long as I get to rub it.

Boldly, I slide both hands down over her bottom, smoothing the oil as I go. I grasp and knead her heated flesh, picturing my shaft rubbing forward and backward between the globes. In my eagerness, I’ve scooted closer and the tented material over my arousal nudges her side.

“Go lower.”

Lower? If I do that I’ll be rubbing between her cheeks, delving into the moist folds near the pillow. Excited to follow her request, I curve one hand inward, exploring downward. My inquisitive fingers encounter her slick arousal and my cock jerks.

“That’s it. More. Put those fingers inside me.”

Needing no further encouragement, I do exactly as she bids, sliding in two fingers, gradually working them until they sit to the hilt. I steadily draw them back and then in, moistening my skin more with each pass.

Her hips lift off the pillow and she wiggles, driving herself firmly onto my hand. She moans, gyrating in a slow circle while I stroke her inner walls. The tight muscles cling to my fingers, making me wish it was my prick sliding inside her. She’d feel like a hot wet glove slipping over my skin.

One slim arm snakes under her side, hidden from my view. In a moment I feel her fingers rubbing below my hand, massaging her own clit while I pump in and out of her hot core.

“Faster.”

This time, the tone is not subtle. Her voice pitches louder and strength rumbles through it. I do as she says and increase my speed, wishing it was my hips between her legs instead of my hand.

Unreal! This woman taking control of her own pleasure by using me like a sex toy is incredibly erotic. She tosses her hair back to the other side, watching me while I lean over to work her tight hole.

“Open your pants.” I pull my hands away, eager to comply. “Eh! Do it one handed. I didn’t say you could stop touching me.”

The sharp command in her voice pushes me higher. It’s a struggle, but I manage to continue pleasuring the little vixen and lower my pants and briefs in due time. The cooler air in the room feels good against my engorged flesh. Her eyes widen when she sees my length, a hint of lust darkening their depths.

“Wrap your fist around yourself and pump. Do it slow.”

This time, I don’t hold back what I’ve wanted to say several times tonight. “Yes, ma’am.”

She smiles, her eyes following the grip and twist on my erection. “You like it when I tell you what to do, don’t you?”

I nod and boldly meet her appraising stare.

“Use a third finger. I want to feel something…thicker.”

My prick would be thicker, but I don’t think she wants that, yet. I suppress a grin as I pump myself while slicking a third finger through her juices. She’ll tell me when she wants me. And damn, I can hardly wait to hear it. She shoves her pants the rest of the way down and moves to her knees, legs spread so wide it’s more like she’s straddling the pillow. The added height and space allows her to move her hips more freely, and alter the angle of her swirling fingers.

“Ooh…yeah…that’s nice…,” her voice eases out like syrup and trails away.

I slow my strokes, feeling the telltale signs that my orgasm looms in the near distance. I glance down at Heather to see she’s watching my every move.

“Stroke it faster.” The look in her eyes steals my breath. She’s not just enjoying the sexual experience, she’s owning it. She’s opening herself and getting off on telling me what to do as much as I enjoy following her desires.

I pump myself up and down, increasing speed, twisting my palm slightly at the top before I slide back down.

“You can’t come until I say, Tony.” The sheer sexual power pouring from her is intoxicating. I nod again, unwilling to break the spell by speaking. More than anything, I want to pleasure her like I did the other night, to see that exquisite release etched on her face and know I gave it to her.

Wetness coats my hand, the added lubrication a sign she’s close to coming. “That’s it, Heather,” I whisper. “I want to see you come.”

Her eyes widen at my words and little tremors start deep within her pussy. I tighten my grip on myself, squeezing slowly to give sensation without breaking the barrier approaching me. Her mouth opens in a silent O, then closes, opening again right away on a loud moan. Her eyes shut, and her head lowers to the rug, lost in the sensations of her cresting peak.

The muscles tighten around my plunging fingers, and the slick wetness of her slit sucks at my skin. My kneeling body hunches forward, wracked in the intense pleasure-pain of orgasm avoidance. I can do this., I can resist coming and show her I can be as intense as she wants.

“Come now, Tony!” She pants and the convulsions inside her begin in earnest.

I pump my hand again, loosening my grip, allowing my rod to move freely in the slick oil coating my palm. Her head arches back as she moans her release to the room, each exhalation expelling in a louder moan of pleasure.

The lower half of her bottom rubs my wrist, drawing my attention back to that magnificent ass. My balls draw up as her orgasm continues, a longer peak than she had on the patio. Tingles begin in the base of my spine, travel quickly to the stem of my cock, and pause for a split second before rocketing out of my length.

Long jets of my release land on her upturned bottom, each spurt a joyous reminder that I did it—I held on until she said. A supreme relief settles through me as the spurts become less and less, then dwindle to rocking shudders throughout my body.

A fine sheen of sweat covers my exposed skin, a mark of the exertion in holding back my orgasm. I don’t think I’ve ever had a peak that intense when not inside a woman. Stunning, to say the least.

Heather’s hips sink to the pillow, and what sounds like a satisfied breath eases past her lips. “Grab the tissues, please. I can’t get up.”

Chapter Five

HEATHER

The sheer satisfaction of pulling off Saturday night buoys me all morning. Tony protested when I didn’t agree to meet him for breakfast today, and I found myself suggesting afternoon coffee just to make him smile. I had to agree to something before he’d leave last night.

The glow from last night’s intimacy still warms my heart. Surprisingly, I’m not shocked at how I behaved, and feel more of a freedom after the daring antics than I ever would have expected. He didn’t laugh…I didn’t mess up and make a fool of myself…and I have to admit, a big part of me really enjoyed acting like a stronger person.

Looking at the early morning photo I took of the Brooklyn Bridge, snapped on a soul-searching walk one year after my parents’ accident, I realize I really do have a lot to be proud of. I oversaw all the renovations on this place, using part of the life insurance policy and assets left to me from my parents. I don’t have any vices that have run up my credit cards, nor do I have unpaid student loans looming over my head.

Compared to most eligible women in the city, I’m doing pretty damn well.

I remember an old saying my mom shared with me when I was job-hunting the summer after my freshman year of college: “Fake it ‘til you make it.” She convinced me to dress more professionally and less like a broke intern, stating if I wanted to be considered for advancement I should dress like I was already there. It was an interesting observation, and one that has helped me well in the corporate world.

I wrap the memory of my mother around me before bravely heading out to meet Carla. We haven’t seen each other since Thursday evening at the coffee shop. We ended things okay that day, but I’m not so sure where we stand. It’s like there’s an undercurrent between us that wasn’t there before.

I step into a cozy eatery near Macy’s, the smell of the fresh breads and soups wafting up to tempt me.

“Over here!” Carla waves to me from a tiny bistro table in the corner. I navigate through the packed establishment, grateful when I see she’s ordered two soups.

We kiss and hug, the tension from our last meeting melting away in the joy of being together.

“Thanks for ordering for me.” We settle at the table and I toss my loose curls over one shoulder. “What’s the soup special today?”

“Bean with ham, is that okay?”

“Ahh…” I dip in a plastic spoon and stir the thick concoction. “It’s perfect. Smells good.”

Carla nods, her gaze going to my hair. “I like the curls. Did you do it yourself?”

I smile, forcing myself not to preen under her notice. “Yeah. Hot curlers. Took about thirty or forty minutes this morning.” I shrug, trying to downplay the adventure of my struggles with the piping hot, ceramic finger-torturing devices.

She takes a spoonful of soup and nods. “You did a great job. It’s very flattering. You should style it like that more often.”

I rather like the look of the sexy curls myself; maybe I will drag out those painful coils again and attempt to master them. “Thanks,” I say, sitting up a little straighter in my chair. “So…what did you do this weekend?” I’m not sure how many details I want to share with Carla regarding my Saturday night, but I definitely want to tell her I saw Tony.

An open expression of excitement crosses my friend’s face. “I went out with one of the guys from the speed dating event.”

I track back in my mind, wondering if I told her about the guy I thought looked like a predator. “Which one?”

“Michael—the guy in the sport coat with the killer smile.” She smoothes her tightly-fitting shirt over her cropped yoga pants.

I nod, understanding whom she means. He didn’t make it to my table before I left. “Good for you. How did it go?”

“We had a nice dinner in Little Italy, talked for hours.” She gazes past me and out the window. “We’ll see how it goes.”

“Hmm…you’ve got that look.”

“What look?” she says.

“It’s kind of melancholy. Like you’re happy, but with a touch of sadness.”

She props an elbow on the table and stirs her soup. “Damn, girlfriend. Sometimes I think you know me better than I know myself.”

“Did something feel off?”

“Nothing jumped out at me, just an impression I had.” She catches the eye of a man at a nearby table and smiles at him, seemingly unaware her actions are a blatant invitation for him to approach her.

I reach across the table and touch her arm, drawing her attention back to me. “Aren’t you the one always telling me to trust my instincts?”

She smiles to lessen the seriousness. “Nothing like that, not like I wasn’t safe or anything. More like he was more interested in his own good looks and who noticed him than he was in me.”

I suppress a smile. This could be why she and I clashed the other day, too. Carla is used to being the center of attention and attracting male eyes. Sounds like she went out with the male equivalent of herself.

“Was he constantly smoothing his shirt and smiling at strangers the next table over?” I keep my voice as level as possible and raise one eyebrow. “I don’t think I know anyone who acts like that.”

Carla laughs, a full-bodied sound that turns more interested men our way. “Good point! I have no room to talk. But seriously, I don’t act like that on a date. He just gave off the player vibe.” She picks up her spoon. “It didn’t sit right with me.”

I eat soup and think about how Tony acted with me. I can’t help but wonder if he would treat me differently in public than he did in private. He’s been a perfect gentleman, so far. My face heats as I remember him touching himself, the naked desire on his face as he looked down at me. Well…at least until I told him to come. After that, his eyes closed briefly in rapturous delight as he shot ribbons of—

“Spill, Heather.” Carla smiles. “You’re five shades of red, right now. I want to know what off-color thoughts you’ve got spinning in that pretty little head of yours.”

“Tony came over to my place last night.”

Carla squeals with delight, leaping out of her chair to hug me. “Oh, my God. Tell me everything. Did he stay the night?” She hastily returns to her seat, eager eyes glued on me.

“No!” I laugh at her exuberance. “Come on, Carla. You know me better than that.”

She waves me off. “Yeah, yeah. A girl can hope. So, how did it go?”

I sigh, the deep breath spilling out of me and taking my tension with it. “Incredible. We talked and ate for hours.”

“And then?” Her eyes widen. “What happened for dessert?”

I squirm in my chair, unwilling to share too much in a public place, especially after she broadcasted my patio exploits over coffee. “I fed him chocolate covered strawberries…from my mouth.”

“Ooo…sexy. Nice touch.” She digs into her soup. “Then did he do you all night and you booted him out before morning?” Humor lights her eyes as she waggles her eyebrows.

“No…but we both had a satisfying evening, if you get my meaning.”

“Damn, hon, I’ve known you for years. Of course, I get your meaning. I just want to know the how.”

I look out the window, uncomfortable with revealing the intimate details and my actions of the evening. “Not much to tell, really.”

“Oh come on, did you tell him what to do again? Order him around like some dominatrix?”

Anger lights inside me, swift and sure over her belittling question. What Tony and I shared last night was intimate, not some power play enacted for a man who wants to be told he’s a bad boy and needs to be whipped and humiliated to reach orgasm.

“It’s nothing like that, Carla.” I put down my spoon, no longer hungry. “I don’t dominate him or humiliate him, for crying out loud. It’s just good, clean fun.”

Carla’s demeanor changes when she sees I’ve taken offense. “Okay, relax. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to piss you off. Geesh, you’re sensitive today.”

My mouth opens to apologize and I snap it shut. She says something crappy and I’m the one who needs to say I’m sorry? The old Heather would have bent over backward, accepting fault for a misunderstanding, but the new me is saying not today, dammit.

“I’m sensitive because you implied what I’m doing makes me a dominatrix?”

Carla’s hands fly up in a stop motion, palms facing me. “Whoa. You’re right. It was the wrong choice of words.” She smiles, possibly hoping to put us back on firmer ground. “Besides, if we were going to get technical,” she winks to show she’s kidding, “I bet you’d fall under the category of a ‘vanilla dom.’”

My anger deflates as I think about her words. I may not be ready for whips, chains, humiliation, and name-calling…but I do like the sound of vanilla. “Is that a real term? Vanilla dom?”

“Nah.” She relaxes, sitting back in her chair now that the tension has drained between us. “But if it was, you’d be it.”

We finish our meal in companionable silence, talking about our own up-coming weeks every now and then. She’s traveling to Philly and we won’t get to hook up again until at least Friday. We leave and go our separate ways, my invitation to have her join me for shopping turned down once she complained about laundry and packing. I’ve got several hours before meeting Tony and decide to shop on my own.

I catch sight of my reflection in a passing mirror, pleased anew with my bouncy curls. More male eyes seem to be drawn toward me, and I’m not sure if it’s the hair or my attitude.

Strolling toward my destination, the indoor mall on Broadway, I spot a black corset in a shop window. A quick glance at the leather shop’s signage has me smiling. I may not be a biker chick, but I bet I’ll find some fun stuff in here.

The rich smell of new leather fills my senses as I enter. The muted lighting and loud music almost feel at odds with one another, each giving off a separate and distinct vibe. Coats, chaps, boots, shirts, pants—dozens of colors and textures hang on racks and wall displays. You name it, it’s here and made of leather.

A rugged man in his late thirties with sideburns and a wickedly sexy grin approaches me. “Can I help you find something today?”

I try my best not to stare at the swirl of colorful tattoos over his chest and arms peeking behind his skimpy black leather vest. “Yes. I like the black corset in the window.”

His smile grows, and the twinkle in his eye makes me think he’s picturing it on me as we speak. “Sure thing. Follow me and I’ll help find your size.”

I trail after him toward the back of the shop, noticing his leather pants really show off his butt nicely. “Here we are.” He whips around and my face burns, sure he’s caught me staring at his backside.

“Thank you.” I reach blindly for the rack, willing the redness to pass. “Uh…how are these sized?”

“Some are small, medium, and so on. Others are bra band sizes.” He eyes me with masculine appreciation, no hint of reproof or judgment that I might not be well endowed up top. “You look like a thirty-four, that about right?”

My facial burn returns, as I try to look anywhere but at his welcoming face. “Yes, that’s right.”

The salesman pulls out a beautifully intricate style, something I never would have chosen. The bodice is offset with a black embroidered swirling design, reminiscent of vines and leaves. He turns the corset around to expose an open-back weave design, large crisscrossing straps of leather instead of the traditional solid back with corset ties.

Immediately, my mind goes to Tony’s hands running down my back last night, almost reverent in their touch. A slight chill runs through me as I extend a hand to accept the hanger. “I’ll try this one, thanks.”

He nods toward the dressing rooms, giving me space to get there on my own. My eyes sink to the bulge in the front of his pants, well hugged and cupped by leather. My voice rings out before I’m even conscious of the thought, “How about pants, too?”

Within thirty minutes I’ve bought leather pants that fit like second skin and a corset top to pair with it. If the hint of appreciation in the salesman’s eye is anything to go by, they look damn good on me. Anticipation spikes through me. What would Carla say if she saw me in such a get up?

I’d like to think she’d hoot and holler for me, but with the way we’ve been at odds lately, I’m not too sure. Warmth starts low in my middle when I ponder what Tony would say. I bargain he’d love the outfit—what man doesn’t like a woman in tight leather?

I travel to the mall, which is near the coffee shop where I agreed to meet Tony later, and remember last night. Our mutual ending was out of this world hot. I never expected it would go so smoothly, not in a million years. I’d enjoyed hearing about his likes and interests, even though he divulged little about his family.

But, who am I to complain? If I’m perfectly honest, I haven’t exactly presented myself as I really am, more like who I’d like to become. Can I meld this new me with the old me?

I stop in front of a shoe display, eyeing the expensive designer shoes I’d never normally buy. The spike heels and strappy designs scream sex. I walk in, zeroing in on the handsome salesman near the counter. His olive skin and brown hair remind me a little of Tony, and the idea of shopping and pretending it’s him intrigues me. I smile and he jumps to attention, rushing over to assist me.

“Hi. Was there a style that caught your eye in the window? I’d be happy to get it for you.”

I can do this. I can flirt and not stumble on my words. I nod. “The red ones with the silver heel, please.”

He gestures to an empty chair near the front of the store. “Please, take a seat. What size?”

“Seven.”

“I’ll be right back.”

I make myself comfortable and wait. In a moment the man returns, carrying three boxes of varying sizes with him instead of one. I hide a smile at his obvious attempt to sell me more shoes than simply the pair that caught my eye.

“I brought out two other pairs I thought would look stunning on you.”

“Sounds nice. Let’s try the first one.”

With great showmanship, he removes the paper and bars used during shipping. I slip off my flats and, with my feet, scoot them beneath the chair. A warm hand glides down my ankle, leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

“May I?” he asks while looking up at me through his thick lashes.

I nod, a lump in my throat. He’s handsome. Not as good looking as Tony, but not shabby by a long shot. Or as Carla would say, Damn, I wouldn’t kick him out of bed for eating crackers.

Gently he raises my foot, angles the pumps over the toes and slides the red leather onto my foot. A shiver steals up my back as I watch each sensual movement of his hands. Wow. I must be shopping at the wrong stores. I’ve never been turned on while buying footwear before.

You’ve never been turned on by much before. Embrace it, don’t analyze it to death!

He repeats the process with my other foot, then rises and waits for me to stand. The warmth from his hands lingers on my skin, reminding me of Tony’s hands on my backside last night. Recalling his attention, the heat in my middle spreads to my panties. I stand, experiencing a slight head rush from moving too quickly.

I must look unbalanced because the young man reaches out a hand in offer if I need it. “How do they feel?”

I ignore his hand and take stock of my feet, placing my weight firmly in the shoe and getting a sense of my balance. “So far, so good. They don’t hurt, but the real test will be walking in them.”

I pace the length of the store, moving my hips a little more than I normally would. I like the way I feel in them. Sleek and powerful. Turning around, I catch the man’s eyes at butt level, not near the floor on my shoes. I march back to my chair, feeling like a lioness going after prey. By the look on his face, I bet he’d be eager to be caught.

“You look good,” he says. His face freezes once he realizes what he said. “I mean the shoes, they look good on you.”

I smile and stand near the chair, testing my weight on each foot to check for pinches. “I like them, too.” I lower to the seat, offering my ankle for him to assist. “Let’s try the next pair.”

A familiar voice comes from the doorway. “I agree.” I whip around to see Tony moving straight for me, a dark look of desire and anger mixed in his expression. “You should get those.”

Chapter Six

TONY

White hot rage coursed through me when I saw that punk sales guy kneeling at Heather’s feet with a hand on her leg. Her sexy stroll across the room had me ready to run in and sucker punch the look of interest off his face.

Every fiber of my being wants to claim this woman as my own, but common sense stops me before I do anything rash.

“Tony,” her voice comes out low and breathless. “What are you doing here?” She looks down at her wrist, checking the time.

I stare at the kneeling man, letting my displeasure show. He jerks his hand off her ankle likes he’s been burned. “Just walking by,” I say, trying to calm the jealousy swimming through my system. The salesman scrambles to his feet and steps back, wisely putting distance between me and my intended target—Heather. I stalk forward. “Happened to see your familiar profile.” I smile while lowering to one knee, hoping the expression on my face is more seductive than scary-jealous-guy.

I stare into her surprised face and curve a hand possessively around her exposed calf, trailing it slowly down to her ankle. “Your hair looks great,” I say softly, resisting the urge to touch the soft curls. I want to run my hand through them and grab a big fistful while driving into you over and over again. Her eyes widen when my hand reaches the red shoe on her foot. “May I help you with the next pair?”

She shifts in the chair, an answering light of heat sparking in her eyes. “Y-yes.”

I love that I’ve flustered her, and I’m going to enjoy touching her in public even more. Let that young idiot paw someone else. “What else did you pick?” I open the next box, larger than the first, to reveal a pair of black leather boots, a shiny metal zipper running down the back. The spiked heels are silver, just like the first red pair she tried.

My eyebrows creep up my forehead over the bold choice. “Nice.” I glance at the price tag on the box. “Fifteen hundred?” I let out a low whistle. “You ladies and your shoes.” I smile to soften the comment, desperate to make this a lighthearted moment where I can tease.

“I didn’t cho…er…,” she blushes and looks away.

My earlier anger, at seeing him touching her drains out completely at her reaction. She’s so fresh and innocent, like she’s trying on shoes she’d never normally buy.

I lift the first boot and unzip the back. The metal rasps as it descends, sparking little jolts of arousal through me. Heat flushes my face as I touch her ankle and calf a little more than necessary to slide in her foot. The material folds over her cropped jeans, eventually lying flat against the faded fabric, two inches above her knee.

I reach behind the heel and tug the zipper slowly, reveling in my closeness to Heather. Shifting to grasp the pull-tab better, my mouth hovers over her thigh and I stifle the urge to place a kiss on the supple material covering her flesh. The zipper snags behind the curve of her bent knee. “I’ll pull it up the rest of the way when you stand.”

She nods, a flush creeping up her neckline. I suppress a smile, pleased she’s as affected by me as I am by her. I start the intense process again with the other boot, this time more blatant in running my hands down her calf, dragging out my movements, feeling the soft smoothness of her skin before I slide the next boot heel in place.

The rest of the store melts away while I’m lost in the sensual moment, with my black-haired vixen at the center. Once the second zipper reaches the bend, I offer Heather my hand to stand. She does, staring down at me with an expression I can’t read. I reach behind her thigh to finish zipping both boots, then quickly roll to my feet and step back.

Some of the coyness I witnessed earlier is missing from her as she struts back and forth on the carpet, testing out the sexy boots. The heels shape her calves and raise her firm butt, forcing her onto her toes. My eyes trail from the glint of metal on the zipper, up the snug fitting jeans, to linger on the overall enticing image she makes in the boots. I’m buying them for her even if she doesn’t want them. I’d love to see her wearing them out for an evening, or staying in with nothing else on.

“They feel fine,” she says while lowering herself once again to the chair. “But I don’t think I’ll wear them much.”

A naughty flash singes my mind: her on my bed wearing these boots, legs in the air, spread wide, while I thrust into her…a chill courses down my back. “You never know.” I smile at her while she reaches to unzip them. “You may wear them more than you think.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Let me buy them.”

She looks up from her task, surprise etching her features. “What?”

“And the first pair, too.”

She shakes her head. “I don’t need you to buy shoes for me, Tony. I’m perfectly capable of purchasing them myself.”

Crap, this isn’t going as I’d intended. What woman wouldn’t let a man she’s dating buy something for her? “But I want to,” I say, looking toward the salesman for assistance.

Sensing an imminent sale, he rushes forward to claim both pairs before she can utter another word.

“Tony, no.” She stands, motioning for the man to put the boxes down. I pull out my wallet and he ignores her. “It’s inappropriate. They cost too much.”

“Nonsense. They aren’t too much.” I think back to what I’ve spent on Vegas weekends with past girlfriends. This purchase wouldn’t have even covered the rooms. I stride to the counter while she slips her regular shoes back on.

A tingle buzzes through me as I picture how she can thank me for the shoes…maybe I can convince her to wear a pair today. I smile at the young salesman, no longer angry from his earlier behavior. I should cut the guy a break. She is sexy as hell, and he’s only trying to make a living.

We complete the transaction and he hands me a big shopping bag with both pairs inside. I turn to Heather, a smug look on my face…to see the store lies empty. “Heather?”

I look back at the salesman who shrugs. “Sorry. I didn’t see her leave.”

I rush to the doorway and scan the crowd. She’s well and truly gone.

Fuck. What did I do wrong?

I dig in my pocket for my cell phone, scrolling through my call list until I come to her number from Friday. I try it and wait while it rings and then goes to voicemail.

I text her. Where are you?

I stare at the screen for a minute, hoping she’ll answer. Nope. Nothing.

Did I do something wrong?

Maybe she was flustered and went ahead to the coffee shop? My heart tells me yes while my head hammers no. I hurry the block to the café, hoping she’s sitting at a table waiting for me. The small place is packed with people, no sign of her shiny black curls among them.

I debate taking a cab to her building, but foot the many blocks in silence, checking my cell phone every few minutes. Dammit! What did I do? Buying her expensive shoes isn’t a crime. I’ve never had a woman react like this to a gift before.

I arrive at her building, the warmth of the sun not helping to dispel the chill settling in me over how I’ve royally messed up my afternoon with Heather. The doorman assures me she hasn’t returned yet. I scrawl a hasty note at his podium, asking him to hand it to her with the bag when she returns.

I cross the street and sit on a bench facing the entrance. Good one, idiot. She has no idea what you earn or who you work for. Maybe the implication of an expensive gift threw her for a loop.

That could be it. I rub my jaw, debating on calling her again. My phone rings and I scramble to answer it, hoping it’s her. It’s Marcus. Damn.

I suppress a sigh and answer his call.

“Hey, man. Whatcha doing?”

Stark reality hits me. “Nothing.” Bitterness creeps into my tone. “I’m doing absolutely nothing.”

“I’m heading over to Mikey’s. Want to meet me?”

The sports bar is eight blocks back the way I just came. “Sure. I’ll be there in a bit.”

The long walk to the bar cools me off. I have no idea what the hell happened at the store, but we’ll work it out. Of that I have no doubt. I won’t let her go over some stupid shoe misunderstanding, that’s for sure.

Marcus gives me a nod from across the darkened sports pub. I slide onto the empty stool next to him and signal the bartender.

“What are you having?” I ask my friend.

“Miller Lite.” He raises the bottle. “It’s still pretty early in the day.”

I shake my head, not caring if it’s thirty minutes before five. I could benefit from letting off a little steam. I place my order for the same and wait for the cute blonde behind the bar to bring my drink. She smiles at me, a look of interest in her gaze. “How have you been, Tony? It’s been a while.”

She tosses back her long ponytail, working what she’s got on every sap in here. I return her greeting with a less enthusiastic smile. “I’m good, thanks.”

She opens her mouth to say more, but another patron flags her from the far end. The young woman scurries away.

Marcus nudges my shoulder. “What happened on Friday, asshat?”

“What?” All I need is for him to be pissed off at me, too. Freakin’ great.

“You split when we all went out to celebrate after work.”

“It was late. I was tired.”

“Eight o’clock is late? What the hell is going on with you? Normally after calculating your six figure commission on a deal that size, we’d be driving to Atlantic City or going to a strip club and partying all night.”

Heather called me Friday. She was on my mind…all bloody night and all the next day. I shrug and take a long drink of beer. “I had plans on Saturday. Didn’t want to be spent.”

“Working on that damn old building again? What the hell is with you that you’ll work at the office until you’re ready to drop and still putz around over there?”

I don’t think working on a building you own is putzing around, but I hold my tongue since I didn’t go to Hoboken either. “I had a date.”

“I lose my wingman on a possible Friday night to end all Friday nights for a date?”

“We’ve had some pretty amazing nights, so I doubt that very highly.”

Marcus jerks his head away, glancing at the TV, but I see his sour reflection in the mirror over the bar. “Well? Who was it with? Have I met her?”

His voice doesn’t sound too interested, more like he’s sulking. That’s all I need. A clingy best friend who can’t be happy I found a nice girl to date for a change. Terrific. I down the rest of my beer and order another.

“I met her at speed dating.”

“Oh, yeah? Is this the one you asked if I’d met? Heather, right?”

I nod.

A hearty laugh rips from Marcus as he slaps me on the back. “Bet you were tapping that Saturday night.” The bartender delivers my new beer, sauntering off when she sees us talking.

I shake my head and refuse to answer. I learned early on that if you want a repeat performance from a lady, you don’t tell anyone what transpired. I take a sip of my beer and watch my friend in the mirror.

“I like this one,” I say. “A lot.”

Marcus chokes on his beer. “‘A lot?’ What the hell is that? One date and you like her a lot?” He dismisses me with a jerk of his head. “She must be wild in bed to make you say that.”

I shoot him a disapproving sideways glare. “She made me dinner in her apartment.” Marcus swings my way, listening. “On the floor—set up like a picnic. Finger foods and music.”

His face grows hard as he takes a long pull of his drink. He turns away to stare up at the TV, not saying another word.

Images of Heather fill my head: her hips wiggling in circles while she touched herself; her slightly almond-shaped eyes closing during her peak; the calm order when she told me to jerk my shaft.

No way will I tell Marcus any of that.

We drink in silence, then conversation drifts to work, like it always does. The long workweek looms ahead, reminding me of all I have waiting and all the things I long to escape. When did sixty-hour weeks become the norm? The next project is an advertising firm. A small part of me hopes it’s Heather’s we wind up acquiring. Not the best way for her to find out who I work for and what I really do for a living.

I have no idea where I stand with her. Is she seeing anyone else? The image of the salesman’s hands on her calf, sliding down to cup her heel, burns through my brain. Not even a week and I’m ready to demand she not see anyone else. Who else does she order to touch her and jerk off while she watches? I glance at Marcus. I bet any guy would fall at her feet if they saw her on the patio that night. I squelch the desire to share the experience with him, to see what his reaction would be.

I’ve been with enough women to know you don’t find one bold enough to do that kind of thing very often. I finish my beer and slam down the empty glass in frustration, earning me a raised eyebrow from my friend. I will make her mine.

Two beers turn to many more, and then we order food.

I leave close to ten-thirty, buzzed and out of sorts. To get to the company apartment facing Central Park, I have to pass by Heather’s place. Thinking of her again has me digging in my pocket, searching for my phone. Maybe she returned my texts or called me.

Three missed texts. Dammit! The first one came from Heather around five. It’s not you. I love the shoes. Thank you.

The next text from seven o’clock causes my cock to stir. I have the boots on, want to come over?

The third one came in twenty minutes ago and has me ready to chuck my phone across the street. It’s getting late. I’m going to bed.

Fuck! I didn’t hear the text message signals in my pocket. I should have taken out the phone and left it on the damn bar. Fool. I storm the rest of the way back to my place after sending her a brief text: Sorry to miss your texts. Will call tomorrow.

Even with her quirky behavior of walking out of the store—I want this woman. It’s time I try a little seduction and get her feeling the same way.

Chapter Seven

HEATHER

I get ready for bed, thinking back to my Irish exit at the shoe store earlier today. Who runs out when a man wants to spend over two thousand dollars on her? Wait, what does a man expect when he gives someone such an expensive gift?

Would a man expect you to sleep with him or give him head over an extravagant gift? My skin heats at the thought of getting on my knees and sucking Tony to show him just how much I liked the shoes. I’d tease him ‘til he was ready to beg, and then maybe I’d let him come.

I smile at the wicked thoughts, happy to dream about them.

It is such a rush calling the shots. I like this new me, or at least, this pretend new me. What would a strong bitch who likes sex do? My mind races as I conjure suitable diva-like images in my head. I bet she’d have her own sex toys and never rely on a man to satisfy her.

I grab my laptop, snuggle up in the cold king-size bed an old boyfriend insisted I buy, and start to shop. The dizzying choices of styles and colors of dildos leave me confused. Reviews might be a good place to start. I pick a slim black dildo and then select a cock ring with an extra loop to fit over the man’s balls. If half of the reviews are accurate, then it might be a fun choice for teasing Tony beyond normal control.

I can be the racy woman who lights his soul on fire. I can be the sexy kitten who knows more than she lets on. I click on some Better Sex videos, hoping to gain a few tricks to really enthrall him.

You’re doing it, again. You’re trying to snare a man by being what he wants.

Shut up! I will not end up alone.

I finish my purchase and close my computer. Am I really trying to do what he wants if I want it, too? I want to be more sexual. I want to learn more. I don’t think this is the same as my destructive behavior in the past, and as I slip under the covers, only Tony’s look of sheer sexual bliss fills my mind.

I want him. And I want him bad.

I toss and turn for an hour before falling into an uncomfortable dream state. My mind conjures Tony’s hot mouth, kissing me all over, exploring parts of my body with his tongue no one’s ever touched. His knowledgeable hands follow and soon I’m writhing on my sheets, an orgasm about to break on the horizon.

I wake with a startled gasp, a fine sheen of sweat covering my body and a dull ache between my legs, begging for relief.

My heart gives a painful squeeze when I realize I’m still alone—my big bed mocking me with all its extra space. Maybe I should get a dog. Then I’d have someone next to me at night.

I snuggle back down, covering myself with only the sheet, still too keyed up and hot for the light blanket. Images of his smile and caramel colored eyes burn a path of want straight to my crotch. Frustrated and aroused, I reach between my thighs, testing my readiness with one slim finger.

Slick wetness greets my exploring digit, clinging to my skin and allowing a gentle friction to begin. I drag the moisture up to coat the rigid pearl of my desire, twirling in a tight circular motion when I find it. Slowly I rub, building the pace as my senses soar closer to a peak. I picture Tony on his knees, tickling me with the tip of his tongue and explode with my release. It hits me fast and hard, wringing the breath from my lungs. The frantic excitement from the dream leaves me and finally I drift off to sleep, still thinking of Tony and his sweet, sweet eyes.

The next morning I check my texts, and sure enough, I see I missed one from Tony. Looks like it arrived after I climbed into bed. Part of me, the part that dreamed of him last night, wishes he’d called instead. Well, at least he didn’t read my offer to come over while the boots were on and purposely ignore me. I text back, Okay, so he’ll know I received it.

The pretty red shoes with the shiny metallic heel call to me from their box. I choose my outfit carefully, a floral print skirt with a red top. I’m no stranger to wearing heels this high at the office, but have worn nothing this blatantly sexy before. Are they appropriate for the CFO’s assistant? I snort, for once not caring, and slip the red leather onto my feet.

If I want to be the part then I guess I should start living it a little more. I take extra time with my hair, styling it the way I did on Sunday that turned so many heads. This time, using the rollers only results in burning my index finger once. A good sign in my book.

My phone beeps with an incoming text as I leave for the elevator. It’s from Tony. Care to have a late dinner with me tonight?

My heart beats faster as the doors whoosh shut and the elevator descends. What do I type back? Should I call him? Crap, I really need a guide on how to text like a sexy diva. Will agreeing to his request make me seem too eager? How late is he talking about anyway? That might be the best thing to find out first.

What time?

His response bings as I step onto the sidewalk. Is he in the office already or texting me from home? The thought of him sipping coffee in a terry-cloth robe brings a surge of salvia to my mouth. Yum.

9:00?

I wrinkle my nose. Who the hell eats that late on a work night? Maybe not agreeing will put me back in the driver’s seat. Geez, I really wish I knew what the eff I was doing. I hustle the rest of the way to work, conscious of the looks I’m getting along the way.

Damn, these shoes really do look hot. I catch sight of my reflection in a passing shop window and smile.

The more I think about it, the more I think accepting a dinner that late makes me look too available and willing, both of which I desperately am. I arrive at my building and ride the elevator to Parkerson’s floor, hoping a plausible reason for declining will come to me.

The office is barely inhabited when I step through the doors at quarter to eight. Only the higher-ups and ambitious ones like me report this early. And I’ve found my mother’s advice regarding clothes applies to most things in life: if you want to get ahead you need to act like it.

I settle at my desk and check my phone again. A small, secret smile graces my face as I open up the message. Is that too late?

My grin broadens when I think of the doubt whirling around in his mind. Good, it means he wants me.

My elbow jostles my mouse, causing my calendar to open. A reminder for tomorrow pops up. I’ve got to attend a meeting with my boss, Harvey, with Apollo Enterprises a few floors up. That one will take some prep work, I bet. Perfect excuse!

I text Tony back, Work obligations on Tuesday. Don’t want to be out too late.

I refrain from staring at my phone, willing it to beep with a text back from him. If I keep this up I’ll never get anything done, and then Harvey would be in a major bind. He’s got a lunch meeting later with Paul and some bigwigs from Apollo. I cringe inside, knowing this will probably be a liquid lunch for Harvey and he’ll be in no shape to talk business when he returns—if he returns to the office at all.

I grab some files on my desk from last Friday and hurry down the hall to see if he’s in, snagging my phone impulsively before I leave. I’d like to get him briefed on what I’ve been doing so he’s able to speak coherently on the company’s financial position.

The older man hasn’t arrived yet and I debate whether to leave the materials for him or try again in thirty minutes. From experience, I know he doesn’t often read what I leave on his desk. He’s only six months from retirement. Truth be told, I’ve been running his job, and mine, for the past several years.

Harvey knows it and pays me well for my expertise, which effectively buys my silence and loyalty. The all-boys club at Parkerson wouldn’t welcome a female CFO, of that I have no doubt. But with any luck, Harvey’s recommendations when he leaves will be enough to overcome their reservations.

Antsy to get started on my day, I leave the files, deciding to call him and remind the forgetful man to read them before he goes to lunch. I sigh, hoping the knowledge will sink in and he won’t look like a fool to the Apollo people.

My phone beeps again, another text, and I hold back a girly squeal of delight. I feel like a teenager again, waiting to see what he says.

How about tomorrow after work?

A big grin stretches across my face, garnering attention from two salesmen as they walk by. “Looking good, Heather,” one says with a saucy wink. Bob, the winking salesman, is happily married with kids, so I don’t take his flirting too seriously. I wait to reply to the text ‘til after I return to my office, desiring some privacy.

Right after work or later?

One thing I am sure of, I don’t want a late night dinner to turn into a convenient booty call. It sets a bad precedence.

I work late every night.

So what the hell that does mean? I either agree to a nine o’clock dinner or too bad? I don’t think so.

I text back, Sucks to be you. LOL.

Seriously, is this guy nuts? Who works late every darn night? It’s not healthy.

My phone beeps. How about seven?

Yes! I resist doing a fist pump in the air, but just barely. It feels like a personal accomplishment to get a workaholic to agree to an earlier quitting time.

Okay. I stare at the cursor, wondering if my response will end our communication for the morning.

Are you wearing new shoes today? ;-)

Heat flames across my cheeks as I recall him slipping the high heels from my feet yesterday. Yes. The red ones.

I bet you look hot.

I pause for a moment, weighing my response. Impulsively, I type, I do. There. That sounds like a confident, sassy woman, right?

I grit my teeth at the question in my mind. Of course, it sounds like a confident woman. What mousy, insecure chit is going to agree she looks hot?

My palms start to sweat as I debate typing something really sexy and outrageous to him. Oh God, I’ve got to get this man out of my head! I’ll never get any work done.

I slam the phone in a side drawer, determined to focus on the quarterly financial reports we’ll need for tomorrow’s possible investors. My resolve lasts for ten minutes, until I hear the telltale bing signaling a new text has come in.

Are you wearing anything else red?

Chapter Eight

TONY

I anxiously wait, staring at my phone. Did my last text go too far? Will she think I’m some weirdo pervert who wants to start sexting her? The growing erection in my pants feels like a scalding brand, confirming, yes, I am indeed such a pervert.

I tossed and turned for hours last night, unable to get Heather out of my mind. Spanking off while I washed away the bar fumes didn’t help much, either. Every stroke of my shaft had me picturing Saturday night again with crystal clarity. I want to feel myself sliding inside her more than I’ve wanted anything in ages. And I will have her.

The hot fist of her flesh will wrap around me, clasping the skin of my prick…

Bing! The chirp from my cell draws my eyes back to the glowing screen.

My shirt is red… and…

Desire pulses through me. Damn, what do those extra dots mean?

Yes? I send back, hoping to encourage her to elaborate. Ten minutes go by. Perhaps I should give up on waiting for a response.

Bing!

So are my bra and underwear.

A tingle washes across my skin as more blood surges to inflate my cock. Could her panties be a match to the lace ones she wore on Friday?

“Tony?” Deidra’s voice from the doorway startles me.

I place my phone on the desk, struggling to maintain some semblance of professional composure. “Yes?”

“Are you okay? I called your name three times.”

“Really?” I smile, forcing a touch of confusion onto my face. “Must have been too focused on my email.”

Her expression says she doesn’t believe me, but thankfully she lets it slide. “The COO and CFO at Parkerson agreed to a casual lunch meet and greet before tomorrow’s approach.” I nod, confident our suggestion of a buyout will be well received. “Also,” she continues, “reception called. Your nine thirty is here.”

I sigh, wishing I could text Heather and ask if her panties are lace. “Tell them to send him up.” Deidra leaves and I quickly text back that I’m going into a meeting and will write again, soon. I’d hate for her to think I was blowing her off.

The morning flies by and before I know it, the luncheon with the Parkerson group is upon me.

“And then he said, ‘We don’t fuck the camel, sir. We ride it into town where the whores are.’” Genuine laughter spills from Brian, as a red-faced Harvey laughs louder than the bad joke warrants.

“Good one, sir.” Brian pats the old drunk on his shoulder.

How Harvey, a raging alcoholic, positioned his firm to diversify and hold stock in three separate companies we’d like to buy is beyond me. I recognized the signs from the moment he sat down: ruddy complexion, lots of broken capillaries in his face, watery eyes, unfocused attention, shaking hands. The latter magically disappeared after his second martini.

Bile rose in my throat at the thought of this man being in charge of anyone’s finances. Just like my father, he’d lose it all and never wonder what happened, focused only on when he could get his next drink.

Before our meal arrived, Harvey had finished his fourth drink and showed no signs of stopping. His COO, Paul something, didn’t bat an eye, which told me his behavior of drinking in excess during working hours isn’t a surprise. Every question I directed Harvey’s way was answered halfway, as if he kind of knew what was going on, but I wouldn’t count on his accuracy for anything vital.

Tomorrow morning, when I see their financials, I’ll know more. Approaching a prospective buyout like we’re interested in investing money in the company usually works like a charm. They show us everything and then we make a bid. Of course, we do our due diligence ahead of time, researching everything we could possibly find publicly before even bothering to approach them.

The intel on the company’s holdings looks strong. I never would have expected this idiot to be the one who kept them financially sound. If their sales team hadn’t lost their top five biggest accounts in the last two months, they might not have come up on our radar. According to rumor, two salesmen recently resigned when sexual harassment suits were filed by some of the staff. Our recruiting group finalized hiring their remaining best sales members on Friday, effectively cutting off the company’s only chance to recoup what they lost.

I bet Harvey hasn’t even calculated the fallout from that debacle yet. They could have trouble making paychecks within six weeks if he can’t liquidate some of those shrewd investments quickly.

The meal wraps up and we part ways. I’m eager to get out the door and away from that travesty of a businessman as fast as I can. A sour taste bubbles up from my stomach, ensuring I won’t be able to go back to that establishment for a while without thinking of Harvey’s six-martini lunch and crude jokes. It will be a pleasure to buy their soon-to-be-crumbling company and kick out his loser ass.

On the street, I pass a woman with straight, black hair. It’s not as long as Heather’s but it still brings a vision of the vixen to my mind. Thoughts of Heather should help expunge the recent distasteful company from my mind. She’s infiltrated every part of my head, and I’m kind of freaked out over it. Normally, a piece of ass is a piece of ass. But this woman lingers in the back of my brain, almost coating my very essence with her scent. Maybe after I finally sleep with her, some of this obsession will fade.

Or it could get worse, you sorry sap.

I’m thinking about her every five minutes, how could it possibly be worse? I dig my phone out of my pocket, scanning for text messages and nothing else. Yes! I have one. With an attachment, too.

Should I open it here on the street? What if it’s naughty? Nah, she wouldn’t send me anything like that yet, right? I click on the link for it to download and then jog across the street toward the office. Once my foot hits the sidewalk the image opens on my screen. Smooth skin and a curve of muscle lead down to a tapered ankle. One delicate foot fits snugly into a sexy red shoe with a shiny silver heel. My hand grips the phone harder as I stare at the picture. Damn, that’s fucking hot.

Very sexy, I type back. Makes me want to take them off you. Very slowly.

I hurry to my office, hoping to be alone when she writes back.

I glance down at the screen while I ride the elevator.

Bing!

And then what would you do?

My cock twitches to life, clearly eager with the turn of the conversation.

I’d trail kisses up your legs. I hit send and have to force myself to breathe as I wait for her to reply.

Very nice.

That’s it? Nothing more comes through. I wait five minutes, wondering if I should continue. I set my phone down, resisting the overwhelming urge to call and beg to see her tonight. Maybe I can cut out of here early. I check my calendar to see what I have going on after five. Just internal meetings with Marcus and Brian. I can blow them off. We’d be rehashing our strategy for tomorrow’s meeting and I already know what we’re doing.

Bing!

And then?

A grin splits across my face as I hold back from typing my next response. First, I email Brian and Marcus to cancel our meeting, then I settle into my chair, eager to stir up Heather as much as possible. If I can get her hot and bothered, I may have a real chance of seducing her out of her panties and into an actual bed.

My raging boner pokes above the waistband of my underwear as I text back, And then I’d slowly unzip your skirt…

Oooo…you’re a bad boy…

I fumble with the small phone, cursing at the tiny size of the buttons compared to my thumbs. Why have I never noticed how hard it is to type when aroused? Maybe it’s the blood loss in my brain…

Backspacing several times to correct fat finger slips, I respond, You like it when I’m bad, don’t you?

That depends. Are we talking I’d need a paddle, or do you just mean sexy dirty fun?

A paddle! Has she spanked a lover before? The pressure in my cock and the spike in my heartbeat imply I might not be adverse to a paddle. Interesting…

Before I can form a coherent reply, she texts again. Got to run. My boss is back.

Damn! Just when things were really heating up. I shuffle through the rest of the afternoon, functioning in a haze of desire. For hours, I itch to text her but don’t want to get her in trouble at the office. Then again, if things go as planned, we should own Parkerson by next quarter.

How would Heather feel about our company owning hers? I would technically be above her in the corporate scheme of things, but considering the size of Apollo, it’s not like we’d be working together in any sense. If she’s like most employees during a hostile takeover, her biggest concern will be keeping her job after the buyout is complete.

It’s a quarter after five. Should I risk texting her? Intrigued by the paddle idea, I send out a feeler in my next text. So…about that paddle?

Fifteen of the longest minutes of my life go by before she responds, You’re contemplating being spanked, aren’t you?

I can’t deny it. Once she mentioned it, the image of her wielding a long wooden paddle sprang to full life in my mind, complete with a black leather bikini and those high-heeled boots I bought yesterday.

Not willing to give in to this sexy, but dark, premise just yet, I text back, Maybe.

Having her convince me to try such bedroom play sounds like a lot of fun. I could drag it out and deny her a bit. Might get her juices running. Hmmm…

Bing!

Are you as turned on right now as I am?

Hell, yes. My eyesight narrows to the screen, peripheral vision fading as blood pumps into my crotch.

Yes, I text back quickly. I need to see you.

Need to, huh? That sounds serious.

Oh, it is. Please?

Okay. I’ll race you to my place. Are you game?

What? Race her? She must be leaving work right away. Before I have a chance to respond she texts back, Bye!

Uncaring about the obvious boner in my pants, I fly out of the office, yelling over my shoulder to Deidra that I have an emergency and will see her tomorrow. I slam my thumb onto the down button and restlessly shift from foot to foot. I text back, You’re on. I’m heading over.

The city streets swarm with yellow cabs, not one willing to stop at my hail. I resist the primal urge to sprint the entire way to her apartment. Instead, I jostle along with the hordes leaving work, walking fast when a brief opening appears among the bodies.

My erection fades a little during my mad dash, but I prefer this half-aroused state to the crazy stares I received in the elevator. I never knew women were so observant. One woman in her fifties licked her lips and blew me a kiss. I swear, if we’d been alone, she would have made a pass at me.

I nod to Heather’s doorman and walk past like I have every damn right to be strolling in like I own the place. The elevator doors whoosh shut, cocooning me in silence while I travel alone to her floor. The pressure in my pants builds again, and I shift myself to a more comfortable position. God, how I want her…I want to kiss her senseless and make her call my name when I do her.

After an achingly long ride, I reach her floor. I march to her door and knock hard, not bothering with the bell. She answers wearing only a red bra, red panties, and her sexy red shoes. The soft curls of her hair lie over one shoulder, the long strands tickling the tip of one satin-covered breast. Heat and lust colors her expression, proving she wants this as much as I do.

I step in, slamming the door with one hand. I pull her slender form against me, pressing my lips to hers. My tongue dives inside, teasing and battling with hers while her hands work the buttons on my shirt. The tension between us flares as she lifts one leg and grinds her crotch over my erection.

My hands slide down her smooth back, cupping her tight little bottom and hefting her off the floor to wrap her legs around my waist. I step forward, clutching her to me, a faint haze of desire coloring most rational thought. The heat between her legs sinks through my suit pants, inflaming my desires tenfold.

I break from our kiss, looking wildly about her apartment. Heather’s moist mouth latches onto the skin behind my ear. “Bed…?”

Her hands race through my hair, grasping tightly, tugging my mouth to hers. “Past the kitchen,” she mumbles. “Second door on the right.” She latches onto my lips, groaning when I open to receive her questing tongue once more.

I stagger down the hall, eager to toss her on the bed and strip out of my clothes. One of Heather’s hands dart inside my shirt, skating over my chest. We pass through the open doorway to her bedroom, a large bed waiting in the center of the space. I shift my hands, pushing her hips away to dislodge her monkey-like hold on my torso.

With reluctance, she allows me to place her on the bed. I stare into her dark eyes, turned on beyond anything I’ve felt in years. My hands reach to unfasten the rest of the buttons, only to fumble in my excitement. Frustrated, I grab the material and yank open the shirt, popping the three remaining bits of plastic across the room.

“Nice,” Heather says as her eyes roam over my exposed skin. “But I want more.” She reaches for my belt and helps divest me of the last barrier between us. With a firm tug, she pushes both my pants and briefs down in one fell swoop. My arousal springs free, bouncing back to slap against my stomach.

Heather licks her lips and wraps one hand around my length. “Much better.”

I reach out and place a hand over hers, stilling her advance. “I need…”

The sexy little vixen looks up at me, lust glazing her eyes as she slides her other hand into her underwear. “You need what, Tony?” She glances toward her questing hand, biting her lip. “Do you need what I’ve got down here…?”

A growl escapes me as I thrust my pants to my ankles, step out of the pile, and leave my shoes behind. Heather falls back on the bed, spreading her thighs wide. A seductive smile curves her mouth before she pops one slick finger between her lips, sucking her own juices off the slim digit. “Mmmm…”

The pulse throbs in my head as I climb onto the bed. She’s so fucking hot. All I want to do is slam myself inside her. Something in my face must startle her. She sits up and her sexy look is replaced by an expression I’m too far gone to read.

“Tony?”

I crawl between her legs, forcing myself to wait to hear what she has to say.

“You need a condom.” The frantic gerbil-wheel of my mind draws an utter blank. I think I might have one in my wallet, but I’m not sure.

Heather stretches across the covers, reaching one slender arm to the side of her bed, where I see a brand new package of condoms lying on her nightstand. The tight fist of tension around my heart eases. Thank God for an organized woman.

She looks at me with raised eyebrows and I nod, unsure I can make anything but an unintelligible grunt right now. I run a hand up her thigh, enjoying the feel of her skin. The unwelcome delay helps to cool some of my raging lust, and I take a deep breath while she tears open the package and removes a foil-wrapped packet.

“May I?” she asks, an impish grin of mischief on her face.

“Uh-huh.”

She rips the foil in a flash and sheaths my cock with the thin membrane, her hot little hands stroking and teasing me in the process.

“Where were we?” She leans back on the bed, a look of feigned innocence on her face. “Oh…,” she says while slipping a hand once more under the red lace of her panties. “I think we were right here…”

Just like that, she ratchets my desires to where they were, making me a raging beast of hormones interested in getting into her as fast as I can. I lean down, gently drawing her fingers from her panties while I tug the lace aside.

The plump flesh of her aroused lips lay open to my gaze, pulling a jump of response from my cock. I test her folds with my fingers, dipping into her depth. Slick warmth greets my touch, confirming she’s more than ready for me.

I position myself over her, unable to do anything but focus on getting inside her sweet little body. Heather reaches down and pulls her thong aside with one hand and guides the head of my cock to her opening with the other.

For a moment I stare into her eyes, feeling lost. In the next, I push forward and plunge my length into her waiting heat. Her hips tilt up to meet my thrust, the clasping depth of her pulling me deeper. I draw back and push my hips forward again, the nerve endings along my cock screaming in pleasure at her tight sheath.

Rough hands grab my ears and guide my face to her hot, seeking mouth. Her tongue plunges between my lips, keeping time with my cock slamming into her. The pleasing pressure to come is upon me far too soon. I piston my hips faster, one fist grabbing her silky curls and tugging her head back slightly. I break our kiss and bend to her throat, biting and kissing her taut flesh, eager to claim all of her in this joining, not just her body.

I want to make this woman mine.

Before I can rein in my release, it breaks, bowing my back and ripping a strangled cry from my throat. The crest of sexual energy crashes over me, causing my eyes to close as each pulse shoots another wave of intense pleasure through me. I loosen my grip on her hair and open my eyes.

The sensual minx smiles up at me and swirls her hips.

“Now, it’s my turn.”

Chapter Nine

HEATHER

Tony’s choked laughter sounds in my ear, his hot breath fanning my skin. “You didn’t really think I’d forget about you, did you?”

I circle my hips, emphasizing my need. I’m unsure if he’d treat me like Jimmy did, ignoring me once his needs were met—but deep inside, a part of me doubts it.

His moist mouth latches onto my neck, drawing in the skin and sucking lightly. I place my hands against his shoulders and push. “Hey! Don’t leave marks. I have work tomorrow.”

Tony releases the pressure, and if his lingering over the spot with short kisses is anything to go by, I’d guess he let go with reluctance. He flexes his ass, plunging his still hard cock back inside me. “Would that be so bad?”

Before I have a chance to answer, the tension coiling in my gut ramps up and my body responds quickly. The peak I once raced toward now approaches fast with no effort. I gasp as pleasurable tingles spread out from my privates. “You’re still hard?”

“It doesn’t go soft immediately.” To punctuate his virility, he pumps into me with a steadily increasing pace.

“Oh…hmm…” His movement feels like heaven. “You don’t say?” My hips draw back and then forward, rocking my sweet spot against his pelvis when he thrusts inside.

“You feel incredible.” Without warning, he bites my tight shoulder muscle. Not too hard, but enough to make me notice.

Before I want, my orgasm overcomes me, catapulting me into a universe of shooting stars and rainbow comets of color. Moans rip from my throat and fill the room around us.

Tony lets loose one final burst of speed, pumping inside, sending me further into oblivion when he whispers, “You’re hot when you come.”

For a moment, I feel suspended in a well of sensation, my entire body lit with the release. In the next, my limbs weaken and I sink into the bed, overjoyed with the weight of this handsome man on me.

A small nervous laugh escapes me as I recall his last words. They made me feel good—desirable, even. “Wow,” I pant out. “I think I’m in shock.”

Tony pulls back and kisses my nose. “Can we order in dinner and then go for round two?” He leans down and kisses me with a tenderness I’ve never had from a man. “I’m not ready for the night to be over just yet.”

The bedside clock reveals it’s not even a quarter after six. “Yeah, I could go for some food, too.”

The hours we spent wrapped in each other’s embrace last night will be engraved in my mind forever. It was difficult getting Tony to finally leave for his own bed, and a part of me almost succumbed to his pleas to remain. I’ve never had a man react to me like that before. What it does to a woman’s self-esteem…freakin’ incredible.

I swear, if someone had told me being a bossy bitch would score me love, I’d have done it ages ago. Whoa there…who mentioned love? Where the hell did that thought come from? Could I be falling for a man I met a week ago? How the hell could we know each other well enough for love to come into the equation?

Oh, you don’t know him well enough to love him, but screwing him for hours is fine?

There are times, like this, I wish my parents hadn’t raised me to be logical and fair. The truth I’m unwilling to face stares back at me while I brush my teeth in the morning. I’m starting to really fall for Tony.

Does he feel the same or am I simply a new infatuation? He seems like an intense guy. I’m betting he’s been in more serious sexual relationships than I have. Do I care?

There are parts of myself I’m not comfortable admitting exist…like jealousy. Interestingly enough, I don’t feel jealous toward those other women. No matter what they knew or what they did—he’s not with them anymore—he’s with me.

Yeah, for now. But can you keep him?

A niggling thought deep in my brain surfaces—it’s not about keeping someone. It’s about joining with them. Deciding you’d like to walk the path of life together with them by your side.

I dress for the day, reaching for the new black boots in my closet. Tony made me promise we’d meet after work today, that I’d keep my agreement of a dinner date. I think wearing these boots will be a nice surprise for him later.

Maybe I’ll take a picture and send it to him again. Last night over Chinese food, he admitted to the red high heel picture being the sexiest thing he’d ever received while working, and that it made him hot for me all afternoon.

I zip up the second boot and stand, smoothing the flowing print skirt down my hips. The material flares below the knee, hiding the leather hugging my lower thigh. My black silk blouse ties in nicely with the boots, and today’s overcast weather means I can almost pull off wearing boots this late in the season. I take a glance in the mirror, pleased with what I see, not caring if my choice is slightly out of fashion.

I grab my favorite clunky purse and dash out the door. The quiet ride down the elevator doesn’t race my heart like yesterday. Today, it gives me more time to think about Tony than I’d like. Last night after our mad dash to my place and subsequent ravishing, we were very relaxed in each other’s company.

I was my normal self. Well, that’s not quite true. I felt more at ease than ever, but the resulting persona was more of a mish-mash between the old me and the new me…and she was a person I liked a lot.

Tony noticed my framed pictures and asked about them. He seemed genuinely impressed when I told him I took all the shots myself. The architecture ones intrigued him the most and reminded him of his apartment building. Said he likes to work on it over the weekends. Seems like all the man does is work.

A blush heats my skin as I recall last night. He wasn’t on the clock then, that’s for sure.

The elevator opens and my doorman, George, hails me with a wave. “Hello, Ms. Pierce.” George lifts a food bag from his podium. “This was left for you by a polite man this morning. He left a note, too.”

Shock jars me as I reach for the bag and note. I give my thanks and walk down the street before opening the envelope.

To keep your strength up for later… oh, the things I hope to do with you…

I’ll be thinking of you all day.

~Tony

I peek into the bag and see a foil-wrapped breakfast sandwich underneath a smaller, clear, plastic container with strawberries inside. A warm flush spreads across my face as I make my way through the morning crowd. I’ve never had a man leave me breakfast in a bag with my doorman before.

The contented feeling from last night’s activities wraps around my heart and stays with me all morning. I eat the egg sandwich Tony left for me while sitting at my desk, sipping coffee. I should text him to relay I enjoyed his gift and thank him, but I need to calm down a bit first, so I don’t sound like a gushing fool.

I look over my agenda for the day. The big meeting with a possible investor has been bumped to four this afternoon. Damn, I hope it won’t mess up my dinner plans with Tony.

I fire off an email to Harvey, reminding him of the new meeting time, then cancel his lunch plans. I know he keeps a bottle of vodka in his office and has a few drinks when he doesn’t go out to lunch. But he’s at least able to work after a few, unlike after those five-martini lunches. Hopefully, he will lay light on his mid-day cocktails today.

Oy. If I can just get him to hang on for a few more months, he can retire and hopefully get some professional help. His wife died last year, and what he really needs is a full-time program to dry out. If he leaves the job now, he could lose everything he’s invested here, despite all the regulations in place to protect people recovering from addiction. Who am I kidding? He may not go for help when he retires anyway. Just my wishful thinking.

Once I finish clearing his luncheon meeting, I grab my cell from my purse.

Thank you for breakfast and the note. I hesitate over the keys. Should I mention anything about last night?

I had a great time last night, and I’m looking forward to dinner.

I hit send and purposely put the phone in a drawer. I need all my brain cells firing for today’s meeting. The recent decrease in funds from lost accounts has really crippled the firm. Harvey hasn’t listened when I’ve tried to go over figures with him, and our line of credit has been consequently put on hold. The influx of cash from an investor may be just what we need until the sales department can hire new talent and bring in more business.

A loud ping sounds from my desk drawer. Tension and excitement tighten my muscles, urging me to dive for the rectangular bit of plastic and read Tony’s response. I deliberately drag out looking, making sure I clear my inbox and double check data in a spreadsheet for Harvey’s review. I squirm on the leather chair, every part of me calling out to grab the phone.

With shaking hands, I pull open the drawer, the tips of my fingers trembling in eagerness. I slide up the screen lock to view the latest message.

Last night was incredible. You’re all I can think about.

Fire burns through me, igniting every inch of flesh with the warmth of discovery. The insecure girl in me wants to squeal with delight at his words. The new inner-diva wants to tweak his interest a little more, see if I can get him stirred up at work.

A wicked grin spreads across my face as I type back to my new lover, Are you thinking about anything in particular?

I stare at the tiny screen, hoping he takes the bait and writes back something sexy.

I loved peeling off your bra after dinner…

Moisture gathers down low when I recall him licking and sucking my nipples last night. Damn, that man has a fine tongue. He didn’t seem to mind my smaller than average cup size. Kept palming and squeezing my flesh every chance he could.

Wanting him to keep texting, but unsure how much I should say, I type, I enjoyed that part, too…Very much.

LOL. The moaning and requests to keep going were a dead giveaway.

I blush, appalled in the light of day over my wanton behavior. But it felt so damn good, making love on my couch and then again in the bedroom. I wouldn’t trade last night for anything in the world.

What can I say? I type back. You bring out the worst in me…

Worst? If that’s bad then I hope you’re never good. ;-)

I laugh, forgetting my office door is open and draw Harvey’s attention as he walks by. “My, aren’t you in a good mood today?” he says with an indulgent look on his face.

“Yeah,” I smile back. “I guess, I am.”

He wiggles his eyebrows. “Hot date?” At the horrified look of embarrassment he probably sees on my face, he rushes on, “I tell you all the time you work too much. I just want to see you happy, Heather. You’re an incredible young woman.”

“Thanks, Harvey. Do you have time to go over the reports we’ll need for today?”

He nods and I gather my folders, standing to follow him down the hall to his larger office. “I’ll be right in,” I call out, remembering to text Tony at the last second.

Heading into meeting, will text later.

The rest of the morning stretches past noon, with me spending far too long trying to explain our financial position and recent investments to Harvey. I’ve already been slotted to attend the meeting at Apollo later today, but I sincerely hope enough of the newest data sinks in so I won’t have to jump in and speak.

Public speaking is not my thing. I’d rather not have the spotlight on me around all these corporate honchos if I can help it.

I don’t leave for lunch until after one. A sporting goods store catches my eye as I head back to the office and I make a quick detour inside. The sexy black boots turned a lot of heads at the deli, and in here, surrounded by manly sports equipment, they work more magic.

A big, buff sales guy approaches me when I’m barely ten feet inside the store. I smile and ask for directions to the yoga clothes, eager to try some flexible stretching and toning moves. My sore muscles this morning drove home that I really need to become more limber if I’m going to keep up with Tony.

I select some basic black pants and a snug top, and mentally remind myself to text Carla and see if I could join her yoga class. I’d hate to go by myself, and maybe it would help us reconnect. She’s been traveling this week and I’m dying to tell her what’s been happening between Tony and me, but I’m worried she may react poorly like she did before.

A pair of silky, black sports underwear for men catches my eye. A tingle zings through me as I picture the material hugging every muscular plane of Tony’s thighs and hips. I wonder if he’d wear them if I asked. Maybe he would if I told him to. My God, he’s delicious.

Impulsively, I snag the underwear. Maybe I’ll send them to him. Wouldn’t that be sexy? Geez, I don’t even know where he lives. We’ll have to change that tonight.

I pause when my phone rings. Maybe I’ll insist on going to his place. I dig my phone out and feel a warmth when I see it’s Tony.

“Hello?”

“Hi, it’s me.” He’s breathing hard, like he’s in a rush.

“Uh-huh. I know. What’s up?” My heart plummets to my toes. “You’re not cancelling tonight are you?”

A masculine chuckle pants over the phone. “Not on your life. That would be bad.” A teasing note sounds in his voice. “And who knows what you’d do to me if I was bad.”

I glance around to make sure I’m not easily overheard. “You sound almost hopeful, Tony…” I make my voice deep and try for sultry. “Were you hoping for a spanking?”

A swift intake of breath sounds from the end of the line. “I might be.” The distinct sound of a zipper rasps in the background. “Woman, what you do to me.”

A wave of desire whisks through me and sets my crotch ablaze. Could he be jerking off in his office while he talks to me? I franticly look around, desperate to make sure no one can hear me. “Are you undoing your pants, Tony?”

He pauses, then his voice comes out rough with desire. “No, I was zipping my gym bag. But I like where you’re going with this.”

I laugh, awkward and unsure what to say next. Damn, I hope I didn’t make an idiot of myself.

“Although, I’m happy to follow through with your wishful thinking, if you’d like….” His voice rises at the end, a hopeful note showing his eagerness. “Are we going to get creative during the workday?”

“No!” My face heats again. “I’m not in my office. I’m out.”

“I like your implication much better, Heather. Let me know when you want me to be risqué.”

Feeling playful and off balance with the turn this conversation has taken, I say, “You are a bit of a bad boy all on your own, aren’t you?”

His voice rasps across the line soft and deep, “Only with you.”

I like the sound of that. I like it a lot, actually. But as I stand here in the middle of a sporting goods store, there is not much I can do with this sexy man who is eager for me to tell him what to do. “Good to know,” I say, my voice a little brusque. “Did you call to stir up some naughty visions or is there a reason?”

Humor lights his tone when he responds, “I wanted to confirm for seven tonight at La Cucina.”

“Not working late?” I can’t hold back the teasing in my voice. Is this the same man who barely had time to fit me in for a late night dinner yesterday?

“No, something better came up.”

“Hmm…that’s also good to know.” Without thinking, I hang the yoga clothes on a rack and impulsively walk toward a ping-pong table on display. “I’m good with the restaurant and time. Want me to meet you there?”

“Or I can pick you up?”

“Don’t go to the trouble. I’ll meet you.”

“I’m sensing you’re trying to get me off the phone.”

I pick up a short handled paddle, the red and blue rubber sides made for controlling the spin on a tiny, plastic ping-pong ball. “Not at all.” I smack my thigh lightly with the paddle, testing it. A muffled clap greets me. “I’m on my way back to work.”

“Okay, I’ll see you tonight. Come hungry, Heather. I will be.”

We end our call, and I saunter to the checkout to pay for my new paddle and the underwear. I slip both into my large purse, eager to show Tony the paddle the next time he drops a hint he’d like to know what I’d do if he were “bad.” I leave the establishment with a jaunty step to my walk. Being involved with him is turning out to be way more fun than I bargained.

The rest of my afternoon is spent preparing for the four o’clock meeting. Around three-forty-five Harvey and I, with four others from Parkerson, take the elevator up to the Apollo offices on the fortieth floor. Their organization isn’t based here in NYC, but seeing their large footprint covering multiple floors in one of the world’s highest rent districts is very impressive.

The reception area has a distinct Mediterranean feel—coastal colors with bright patches of Greek and Italian landscapes on the walls. It would almost look cheesy if it weren’t for the obvious quality of the furniture and decor. A woman in her late-thirties introduces herself as Deidra and asks us to accompany her down the hall to the conference room. Once through the double doors, she motions to the coffee cart against one wall and instructs us to help ourselves.

I wait for the men to serve themselves first, damned if I’m going to start playing waitress to these men any time soon, then pour myself a cup.

I turn to join Harvey at the table when the team from Apollo filters in. I make my way to my seat as one of their executives breaks into a coughing fit. I place my coffee on the table and look up to see if the gentleman is okay or if someone should call for a glass of water.

Tony’s flushed face greets me from the top of the boardroom table. His light eyes hold shock, his handsome features work to regain composure, and his shoulders shudder from the pounding on the back he’s receiving.

“Are you okay, Tony?” the man to his left asks.

I freeze, every muscle in my face and body poised in the age old flight or fight response. What the hell is he doing here?

A glance to his left reveals his buddy Marcus from the speed dating event, with a sly grin on his cool visage. What the hell am I supposed to do?

I wish the floor would open up and swallow me whole.

Chapter Ten

TONY

Holy shit. I can’t believe I didn’t find out her position at Parkerson. The look of betrayal crossing her face scares me. How the hell am I going to fix this mess? She’s sitting between Harvey and a man in a suit I haven’t met before.

To think she works for that alcoholic weasel makes me burn. I hope she hasn’t let the doddering fool handle any of her personal finances. How he’s kept their firm afloat for the past decade is anyone’s guess.

Heather’s silence at seeing me leaves me floundering. Do I acknowledge that I know her in front of the group? Judging by the smug look of satisfaction on Marcus’s face, I’m guessing he has recalled her from last week’s night out. Good thing I don’t kiss and tell or that rat bastard would be reaming me out after the meeting.

Introductions go around the room and Heather gives me a subtle tilt of her chin in greeting. Oddly enough, when the men all shake hands she refrains and stays seated. I can’t tell if she’s flustered or annoyed. Perhaps she has a more secretarial role in the company and doesn’t want to make any waves by presenting herself as an equal with a handshake? Either way, it doesn’t bode well for the bomb I’m about to drop.

We review the financial statements Parkerson brought. Everything looks as we suspected. They need funds and if they don’t get them soon, the company will fold. With a nod from me, Marcus hands out the portfolios he’s prepared.

“Gentlemen, and ladies,” I begin, remembering to include Deidra sitting in the back taking minute notes. “We’re not here to invest in Parkerson, but to strategically buy out a failing company that won’t be able to make payroll in two months.”

A shocked expression crosses Heather’s face, while a look of confusion settles on Harvey’s. “But wait, at lunch the other day, you talked about expansion and what we could do with your money backing us.”

“We fully intend to do all the things we outlined, only with Parkerson as a part of Apollo Enterprises.”

The tension in the room boils for the next ninety minutes while we slowly explain the contents of the folders, page by page. The packets outline the stock we’ve bought, their position with losing sales staff, how the excellent investments their company has made can’t be liquidated in time to meet payroll—especially with two sexual harassment payouts hanging over them—and how the rest of their sales team has been hired away last Friday—by us.

Heather remains quiet through the entire presentation and resulting heated discussion. I don’t know her well enough to guess what is roiling beneath the surface, but I’m curious why she’s refused to speak up thus far.

“Harvey,” Parkerson’s CEO, Oliver Sayers, begins, “How is it you don’t know all of our major investments are high-yield, long-term, and not easily transferrable to liquid?”

Harvey stammers and turns bright red. “I was unaware of our immediate need for cash. When did we lose these accounts?”

“Loss of our largest clients was detailed in several emails to you over the past two months, explaining we’d need accessible funds in the accounts ASAP.”

Heather’s eyes widen and look away. I’m betting she didn’t get a CC on those emails. I have a sneaking suspicion I know who made all the excellent long-term investments for the company, and who also wasn’t checking internal emails on recent company problems.

“What about our line of credit?” Harvey asks. “It’s for situations just like this.” He looks more alert than I’ve seen him so far. His glance darts to Heather and then his face crumbles. “Oh…yes, that’s right.”

“What?” Oliver asks.

Harvey runs a hand over his aging face. “We had an issue with the line of credit a few weeks ago.”

Anger fills Oliver’s expression as his skin darkens to a deep red. “And that would be?”

“Er…um…,” Harvey stammers. He looks to Heather imploringly.

The young woman straightens her spine and speaks into the ensuing awkward silence. “We needed to send updated income reports to the bank or they were going to suspend the line.”

The full weight of Oliver’s attention bears down on Heather. “And why didn’t we get these reports to them?”

“They were prepared and sent for approval.” Silence fills the room as Heather’s statement and its implications sink in with the Parkerson men.

“Ms. Pierce, isn’t it?” I ask in the oppressive silence.

Heather’s dark brown gaze snaps up to mine, anger and fear shining in her eyes. “Yes.”

My skin prickles at the sound of her controlled voice, the beginnings of desire stirring me. “You’ve been very quiet through this meeting.”

One elegant brow creeps up as she answers, “And your point, Mr. Carmine?”

“Is it because the meeting is mostly all men?” I goad her, knowing if she was holding a knife, she’d probably stick it in me right now. Why does she hide her knowledge and experience from her executives? Why is she taking this submissive role with these stuffed shirts?

Her face sets into a still mask and one corner of her mouth tilts up in a sardonic expression. “No.”

My cock stiffens. I love hearing the strength in her voice. I wonder how long she’s had to suffer intimidating assholes at work who might feel threatened by her. Time to pull the drapes off this fiasco. “How long have you been doing Harvey’s job with only limited facts?”

Harvey whips around to face her and she averts her stare to the door. The tension in the room radiates as we wait for her answer. She shakes her head once, not responding.

Oliver speaks up, “I’d like to hear the answer on this one, Heather.”

Her voice sounds strained. “Over three years.”

Oliver checks his watch and stands. “We need to privately discuss everything that’s been laid out. It’s getting late. How about we adjourn until a later date?” He looks meaningfully at Harvey. “It’ll give us some time to get a handle on where we are financially and what we need to do for the good of our company.” Oliver’s voice barks across the table. “Heather! I want you in my office at nine tomorrow.”

She nods and meets the older man’s penetrating glare. My heart races while I watch Oliver and the other men file out. My team leaves after them but I stay seated, Marcus raising his eyebrows at me on his way. Heather remains, her eyes snapping fire.

“I’ll meet you later,” I say to Marcus. My raging erection pulses inside my pants, imploring me to get out of my chair and approach the woman of my desires—despite the inappropriate timing.

I wait for the door to whoosh shut before rising from my seat. “Heath—”

“How dare you!” Her body vibrates with indignation and she’s as angry as an enraged bear protecting her young. “Were you with me just to learn about Parkerson? All the time angling us for a lucrative buyout?”

Shock courses through me, but does little to dampen my arousal. “How could you think such a thing?” I approach her with a hand extended, eager to touch and reassure her that her fears are not the case. “When did I ever ask about your company? Did I pump you for secrets?”

Some of the anger within her dissipates, but not by much. “No, I guess not.” She jerks away from my touch and stalks to the door.

Panic grips me at the thought of her leaving still angry with me. I rush to the door to cut off her retreat. “Oh no, you’re not walking out on me again.”

Surprise fills her face. “Is that what you think I’ll do? Walk out on you?”

I hadn’t realized it, but in the back of my mind, it must have been hanging there. “Well, you did the night we met, again in the stairwell, and then in the shoe store. Seems like a bad habit you have when things get hot.”

I’ve taken her off guard enough that she remains still. I grab her shoulders and pull her to me in a kiss. Our lips touch and the world fades away. All I want is this woman. Nothing else matters. She breaks the connection and pulls out of my hold. “Sweet kisses won’t help. I’m majorly pissed at you.”

My gaze travels lower, to her black blouse, where the tiny peaks of her hardened nipples strain against the material.

“Really?” I ask, stepping toward her. “Your body says otherwise.” I run a thumb over one stiff nubbin of flesh. “Your body wants more of me.”

I lean in and kiss her again, this time with more tenderness. Our tongues taste and tease, inciting more heat with each breath.

“Damn you! I will not be played like this!” She flounces a few feet away, giving me a chance to check out all of her. She’s beautiful in her rage. Her hips sway beneath the flower skirt and her calves are encased in the black leather of the boots I bought. The silver zipper catches the light and glints at me, drawing my eyes up its length, beneath her skirt, to guess where the boots end.

“Come with me to my office,” I say, desire roughening my voice.

“Why?” she demands.

“So we can talk privately. It might be after hours, but this conference room is centrally located in the office.”

“You sure you’re not just walking me to your office for everyone to think we’re in cahoots? God, what must Mr. Sayers think?”

“Shh…” I run a hand down her arm and grasp her fingers lightly. “It’s after six. Most people have headed out for the day.”

She nods, removing her hand from mine, reluctance and annoyance still spilling off her in waves. She stalks to her purse and files, grabbing them and marching around the table. “I’m so freakin’ ang—”

“I know,” I say, cutting her off. I reach for the small of her back and plant my hand in the dip of her spine, guiding her out the door and down the hall toward my corner office. “And you have every right to be. Let’s talk this out.”

“Hmmph.” We cross the threshold into my private sanctum and I shut the door, quietly locking it. “How many guys ever want to talk?” she rants, pacing the width of my large office. “That’s a load of shit, if I ever heard it.”

“I like the boots.” My erection swells to greater thickness behind my fly, belying my words. I don’t simply like those boots on her. I love them. I want nothing more than to see both of her toned legs wrapped around my waist, encased in those boots.

She whirls around and points an accusatory finger my way. “Don’t try and distract me, Tony!”

I hold up my hands in surrender as I ease closer to her. “Meant no harm. Just stating the simple facts.”

She ignores me and waves her arms around. “So, is this what you do? You crush smaller companies and swallow them into the Apollo Enterprise fold?” I wince and she continues. “I’ve heard about you for years! You’re the playboy executive Anthony Carmine who jet sets around the world, increasing Nikko Apostolopolous’s power, while wining and dining every single woman in Manhattan!”

Ouch, that last part stung. I try to lighten the mood. “So, I take it you read the tabloids?” I smile. “Shouldn’t believe that garbage. I did not seduce the former president’s daughter.”

Heather blushes and turns away. “I don’t know what the hell to believe. But I can tell you I’m freakin’ mad.”

I pull her resisting body into my arms, turn her to face me and plant a kiss on her stiff cheek. “I’m not that man. I’m the man right in front of you.” I circle my hips so she can feel my arousal in her midsection. “And I want you.” I lean down and nibble the base of her neck. “I might have been a playboy in the past, but not anymore.”

She draws back and stares at my face. “Really? After that stunt you just pulled? I’m not so sure.”

My eyebrows shoot up. “What stunt?” I try to pull her closer again, but she’s still stiff with rage.

“You lead my boss to slaughter—in a corporate meeting! Highly unprofessional.”

My own anger simmers to the surface. “Your boss is a worthless drunk. Why would you let the others think he was the one responsible all these years? Why not stand up and take the credit you deserve?”

“He’s a good man. He just has a problem.” She throws her hands up in frustration and breaks free of my arms, pacing in agitation. “You don’t understand! At work, I’m not like I am with you. They don’t see me….”

Understanding dawns. “They don’t see you for who you really are, do they?”

She clams up and turns to the wall of windows. She shakes her head once and wraps her arms over her chest. “No. You don’t see me as I really am.”

Passion fights for its rightful place within her; I see it in the tight hold she has on her emotions, denying who she really is.

I quietly walk toward Heather. “Bullshit.”

She whips around, her eyes glazed with unshed emotion. “What?”

“You have your personal reasons for protecting Harvey, I get that. I don’t agree, but I get it. My father was a drunk—so, I’m a little biased when it comes to alcoholics.” I run a hand through my hair, uncomfortable with what I’ve revealed, but unable to take it back. I reach for her again and this time she doesn’t bolt, allowing my hands to rest on her forearms.

She looks like she’s about to speak. Her features soften with compassion. I rush to continue, hoping to stem whatever she wants to say with that look of pity in her eyes. “I know the woman you’ve shown me the past week and I like her a lot. She wouldn’t take a backseat to those corporate asshats. Especially when it was her choices that made Parkerson worthy of acquiring.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Confusion disrupts the anger.

“We aren’t just buying Parkerson because we want a better in-house advertising firm. It’s because you made investment decisions and bought stock in other companies we find even more valuable.”

She shakes her head, disgust showing on her face. “So, in essence, I’ve helped you buy other companies, too?”

I shrug, unwilling to defend what I do. I make an honest living, never stealing or blackmailing those we’re set on acquiring. We watch and wait, timing our takeover accordingly. “Sometimes, we really do invest instead of buying out, depending on the situation.”

“How can you live with yourself?” Her anger flares again, which appeals more than her self-doubt and pity. “You ruin the dreams of the people who worked hard to build the company.”

“It’s a job. One I’m good at.”

The look on her face changes, becoming calculating. Not a trace of her earlier compassion remains. In the span of five seconds, Heather’s entire demeanor alters. She’s flipped a switch—standing straighter with a look of supreme confidence about her. “Oh, you’re not good. You know what you are?” She leans toward me with a devilish glint in her eye. “You’re very, very bad.”

I smile, glancing down the front of my tented pants. “I might agree with you. Only a bad person gets turned on when they witness an attractive woman getting angry.”

“Take off your coat.” Heather’s voice sounds firm, the same tone she used with me in her apartment. I comply, tossing my coat on a nearby chair. “Shirt, next. Even the undershirt.” A devilish smirk curves her lips. “Oh, but leave on your tie.”

I follow her instructions, my breath rushing in and out fast. My knotted tie dangles down my chest, tickling my skin. I raise one eyebrow, waiting for her next order. What the hell is she going to do? Do I care?

She steps close and runs one hand across my chest, grabbing the tie with the other. “Yum.” Her tongue moistens her top lip. “Your nipples pucker nicely in the air conditioning.” A sigh escapes me as she tugs the tie once, then releases it to fondle an aroused peak. “What am I going to do with you, you bad boy?”

I’m unsure if I should answer. All I can say is things are going better than they were five minutes ago, and I don’t want to ruin it by giving a wrong answer. She steps back, releasing my nipple after she draws it painfully from my chest.

“Undo your pants and push them to your knees.” I hesitate and she barks, “Do it!”

I open my belt and unzip my pants. I slide the material over my hips and the trousers bag near my calves. My cock juts out, tenting my boxer briefs.

“Turn around and put your palms on the desk.”

I settle my hands flat on the wood surface, a smile creasing my face as I realize what she’s up to. She intends to spank me. I’ve mixed feelings on this, but I’m willing to let the scene play out. I look over my shoulder to see Heather reach inside the big leather bag she brought, withdrawing a small shopping bag.

“Look down at the desk.” I avert my eyes, curious about what she’s planned. I hear a rustle of plastic and then a rush of air before something solid and firm lands on my ass. Thwack!

“Hey!” I whip around and see a flushed-face Heather, drawing back for a second strike with a ping-pong paddle.

“Shush!” Heather’s dwindling anger comes through in her unyielding tone. “Eyes down.”

The hard, wooden paddle sails through the air and lands on my left buttock. The sting of the smack sends a chorus of sensation to the area. The skin feels tingly and lit up, like blood rushing to redden the flesh.

Her first tap was harder than the second, but if I’m honest, none of them are really painful. She’s not hitting me hard enough to do damage, but enough to get my attention and sear my flesh.

“Push your underwear to your thighs. I want to see that ass.”

I do as she asks, glad I had the foresight to lock the door. The cool air of the office space whispers across my heated flesh. My full prick bobs, pointing toward the desk.

“Very nice.” Heather’s hand smoothes over the left, and then right cheek of my ass. “The gym agrees with you.” She steps to the side while caressing me, leaning slightly to examine my cock. I feel exposed and on display…I like it.

“Your cock looks like you’re enjoying this, Tony.”

I nod, not wanting to break the spell she’s carefully weaving. The paddle sings through the air and lands on my left cheek, drawing a slight sting. “Too much?” she asks.

I shake my head, surprised she asked. “I’m good.”

“Oh no, Tony. You are very, very bad.” She lightly brushes the rubber-coated wood on my other cheek, teasing the sensitive flesh. “And I’m going to punish you for it.”

I smile, loving the power and confidence in her voice. “Yes, ma’am.” My cock jerks on its own as the sexy phrase leaves my lips.

Whack! Another sharp blow lands on my bottom. Her soft hand immediately soothes where she smacked, tantalizing the tender flesh even more.

“Jerk yourself, Tony.”

I brace my weight on my left arm and reach my right hand to wrap around my shaft. The paddle taps lightly on each cheek, back and forth, over and over, while I stroke up and down. The heated skin of my ass joins with the pleasure centered in my erection, enhancing the experience.

The paddle sails through the air again and the hardest smack yet lands on my left cheek. I wince slightly, but continue to fist myself, unable to deny I’m enjoying what she’s doing to me.

“How much is Apollo offering to buy Parkerson for?”

“W—what?”

Whack! She hits the same cheek again, harder than the last slap, drawing a long burn from the area. One cool hand rubs the hot flesh. “Pump slower, Tony. You can’t come unless I say.” I nod. She leans forward and whispers in my ear. “Answer me if you don’t want to feel the paddle again.”

It’s a double-edged request. I want to feel the paddle again, but not as hard as last time. “Forty-five million.”

“Not bad.” She taps my ass lightly with the wood, teasing the scorching skin. “But it should be higher.”

“What?”

The paddle slams down on my right cheek, hard, with a stinging bite. The edge of pleasure and pain combines as I caress myself. “You heard me,” she says.

“Are we really going to negotiate while my pants are around my ankles?”

The sound of Heather’s moaning draws my head around. She’s got one finger in her mouth, sucking on it. Damn, she looks hot. She pulls out her dripping digit. “Face the desk, Tony.” One wet finger probes between my ass cheeks, searching for my tight pucker. “Can you think of a better time to talk money with a man?”

A bark of harsh laughter leaves me as a slim digit circles the wrinkled flesh, spreading her saliva around the opening. “Well, Tony? Do you want to feel my finger in your ass?”

“Yes.” The rush of pleasure from my strokes increases, and I slow my pumping, eager to follow her order to not come until she tells me.

“Fifty million.” She pokes in one finger, easing past the tight ring of muscle. Sensation explodes, rocketing to the base of my cock and up my shaft. The invasion feels intense, but not painful. I like it.

“I…uhhh…”

She withdraws her finger and the paddle slams down on my right cheek. My hips jerk forward, forcing my cock through my tight fist. “Damn…”

She leans over me, kisses near my ear, runs one hand in a circle over where she smacked and the other down my chest to my flat stomach. “You like it, Tony. I know you do.” Her hot little hand wraps around the head of my engorged flesh and circles it slowly. “I’m only looking out for the people I work with. I know you’re going to drive a hard bargain.”

She pumps the sensitive skin at the top, ignoring my whispered pleas to stop. “Fifty-one million.”

My eyes fly open and I stare down at the wood. My arms shake with the urge to come. I can’t hold on much longer.

“I…”

“Fifty-two million.”

“Jesus, you’re just going to keep going higher ‘til I agree, aren’t you?”

“Yup. That’s the way it works.” She removes her hands and smacks my ass again. “Let go of your cock.” The fire of sensation burning across my ass screams with intensity. I’ve never experienced anything like it before. I do as she says.

With a calm clarity through the pain and pleasure, a realization comes to me. I can say no and she’d stop anytime I asked her to, that she’d never actually hurt me. The sudden epiphany reveals I’m the one truly in control, not her, which is not what I thought initially. The person who says no is in charge. The other person is trying to please them. When I agree, I give her temporary power over the moment.

“Okay.” I say before she can go higher. “Fifty-two million, it is.”

She places the ping-pong paddle on the table next to my hand and steps behind me. Cool lips kiss the enflamed flesh of my ass, sparking electric jolts through my privates.

The urge to wrap my fist around my shaft and pump is overwhelming. I want nothing more than to shoot long streams of come across the pristine wood surface of my desk, to hell with the consequences.

“You did very well, Tony.” Heather’s voice whispers across my sensitive skin. “Did you like it?”

A croak of laughter leaves me, my throat raw and rough. “I just cost the company seven million dollars, and I don’t really care. So, yeah, I’d say I liked it just fine.”

Gentle hands pull up my underwear carefully over my hips to cover my ass. The soft material feels rough against my burning skin. I’m not so sure I will be able to sit anytime soon. Heather’s cool hand cups my cock and a groan escapes me. Please, let her jerk me off.

She tucks my raging erection back inside my underwear. My breathing pants out in harsh gasps. I feel like I’ve run on the treadmill, my heart races so fast. She bends for my pants and I grab her hands. “Wait. You won’t let me finish?”

I turn to face her, surprised at the undeniable heat and arousal I see on her face as well. “No, Tony.” She shakes off my hands and retrieves my slacks. “That’s part of your punishment.” She smiles. “You have to wait to come.” She raises the material and cups my length through my open trousers. “Right after I’m done being mad should do it.”

My breath huffs out in a rush. I could easily give myself a release later if I need to, but I don’t mind waiting to see what she has in store either. I can do this. I can wait a few hours. “Are we still on for dinner?”

Her dark eyes flash with annoyance. “I need some time, Tony.”

“You promised me dinner.”

“That was before. You really put me on the spot and you weren’t truthful about who you are.”

My mouth hardens into a straight line. She’s running again. “Would it have mattered?”

“Which one, that you’re a rich playboy and I’m just another fuck, or that you’re basically ruining all the hard work I’ve put in since joining Parkerson?” Sadness draws her lush mouth into a frown. “Either way, my life won’t be the same after today.”

I gesture to my appearance, drawing her eye to my bare chest and tented pants. “And I’m any different?” I stalk toward her, backing her against the wall near the door. “My life hasn’t been the same since you walked into it last week.” I cup her breast and lean near her ear. “You’re all I want.” I place a soft kiss on her cheek. “All I think about. Every woman with long, dark hair is you. Every pair of sexy heels I see makes me think of you.” I thumb her aroused nipple, and my other hand reaches around to cup her hip and draw her pelvis against my hardness. “There are no other women…just you.”

Heather’s breath whooshes out as a half moan, half sob sound. Her tangled emotions finally come to the surface for me to see. “I…I need to think.”

“Don’t run from me.” She jerks in my arms. Perhaps I hit closer to home with my earlier observation than she’s willing to admit. “Do you want me, Heather?” I nudge my hips forward and backward, a slight teasing motion designed to enflame her higher.

“I do.”

I release her nipple and trail my hand down her waist. “You made my ass burn.”

She smiles against my lips, then kisses me. Tender and soft, deepening into something stronger, full of pent up desire. “You deserved it.”

I shrug. “Maybe.” My hand delves into the vee between her legs, seeking the heat I know lies beneath the fabric of her skirt. “But you enjoyed it, too, didn’t you?”

I rub my palm onto her mound, pressing up my fingers, forcing the material to mold against her heated core.

She gasps and her hips move forward, massaging her sensitive flesh more firmly onto my hand.

“You feel hot down here, Heather. I think you want me. I think you want me as much as I want you.”

“Damn you. Of course, I do.”

“Let me please you,” I whisper into her ear then I nibble an earlobe. “Let me ease your body from the stress you’re feeling.”

A low, choked sound of amusement spills from her. “Sure, and it’s not like you won’t enjoy it, too.”

“You can tell me no anytime you like.”

I leave her earlobe and skim down to her throat, planting kisses and nipping every inch. She gulps and I feel the movement of her swallowing against my lips. “You mean if I said no, you’d stop whatever you were doing?”

There is such hope and wistfulness in her tone that I wonder what she’s been through before me. Who has treated this incredible woman poorly? Who made her doubt herself and her sexuality? I squelch the burgeoning anger urging me to hunt him down and beat him to a pulp.

I take my hand from her mound and reach behind her back, searching for a zipper on her skirt. “Yes. I’d stop, whatever it was. I don’t want to hurt you.” My hands fumble, unable to find a zipper to take her skirt down. Two small hands rest on my chest and push me a step away. Passion burns bright in Heather’s eyes. She walks forward, grabs a chair and shoves it to the side, freeing a large space near the front corner of my desk.

She gathers the skirt in the back and lifts it to her waist, exposing her creamy thighs and turquoise thong panties. My eyes dart immediately to the black leather boots, with the shiny metal strip running all the way down the back, meeting the silver spiked heel resting on the rug. I trail my eyes slowly back up—the leather hugs the bottom of her spread thighs, and the strip of blue divides the creamy halves of her ass.

“You may not know me very well, Tony.” She peels aside her thong, revealing the wet slit of her plump sex. “But you do know what I need.” She bends over the desk and looks over her shoulder, meeting my hungry gaze, fire burning in her own dark depths. “I’m not running now, am I?”

I step between her thighs and run a hand lovingly over her right butt cheek. “Nice to see spanking me turned you on.”

Her eyes drop to the desk, but not before I catch the expression of longing on her face. “Everything about you turns me on.”

My rubbing hand moves closer to her wet core and she bucks, trying to angle her center onto my hand. “Even when I piss you off?”

“Don’t push your luck.” She smiles my way, a saucy look on her face. “Undo your pants.”

I dip my forefinger into her channel. A gush of liquid spills out, coating my hand. “Yes, ma’am.” I give her bottom a light smack. “But only because that’s what I want, too.” With my left hand, I work my pants over my thighs. The head of my erection glistens with pre-come and I draw my hips back, taking a deep breath, barely resisting the urge to drive deep inside. I remember protection and feel a stab of disappoint. “Damn.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t have a condom.” How could I be so stupid? Dare I hope she has one in her purse?

“It’s okay.” She hesitates, but the heat in her voice overrides any doubts she has. “I’m on the pill.”

A rush of animal joy zips through me at the thought of coming inside her. I haven’t gone without protection in a decade or more, unwilling to take the risk, not just of pregnancy but of disease, too. I take a deep breath and position my swollen flesh at her entrance. “Are you sure?” My heart hangs on a thread, hoping she won’t rip away what I hadn’t known I desired so badly.

She nods and presses her hips toward mine, forcing my thickness half an inch inside. “Yes. I want to feel you. Just you, nothing between us.”

I lean over her spine, hugging her torso close while I ease my length in slowly. Heather wiggles to force my entrance faster, but I hold still, determined to slick myself with her excitement before I plunge with any strength. And besides, I’m still so worked up from her earlier attention, I want to make sure I last until she comes.

I slip my hand across her stomach, skimming under the waistband of her skirt, to find her slick clit. Working the hood, I tease her erect bud, easing my length into her deeper with each pass. “Your skin…,” I mumble as I nip her shoulder through her shirt. “I want to be next to your skin…”

She lifts off the table and pulls her blouse over her head. Before settling she unhooks her bra and tosses it across my desk. Heather places both hands on the smooth surface, and then shoves herself the last inch onto my cock. “Oh God, you feel so good inside me.”

I lean forward, covering her, laying my chest against her smooth skin. “That’s the understatement of the year.” I work her hard button in slow circles and use my other hand to knead and fondle her breast. Slowly I thrust my hips. The sucking clasp of her sex feels like a warm glove I don’t ever want to leave.

She groans low and I hesitate, realizing I’m putting a lot of my weight on her. “Am I too heavy for you?”

“What?” Her hips circle, working herself on my hand and her wetness on my shaft.

I pinch her nipple, tugging it from her body while smothering a smile on her shoulder. “Never mind.”

Soft, little keening sounds begin deep in her chest, working their way out with each exhalation. I lighten the pressure on her mound and use two fingers to slick above her engorged nub, not touching it directly. I splay my palm on her low abdomen and hold her while I thrust.

A low guttural plea rips from her lips, “More. Please, Tony. Grab my hips and do me harder.”

I tweak her nipple and roll it between my thumb and forefinger. “No,” I whisper, and then gently bite her shoulder. “It’s my turn to tell you what to do.”

She pauses for a moment, perhaps shocked I told her no, I’m not sure. She grunts and tightens her walls around my shaft. “Oh, is that what we’re doing?” I bite harder ‘til she squeals. “Hey!”

“Hold still. Let me do this.”

I give her no time to think or protest as I drive into her, over and over again, pushing her and myself toward our peaks.

Her hands fist on the desk. She lets out a frustrated moan as I tease her sensitive flesh, not giving it the pressure she wants. “You’re driving me mad, Tony.”

I lower my fingers to where our bodies are joined, bracketing my shaft as it glides in and out of her wetness. The plump folds of her slippery flesh grip my length and my probing brings increased wiggles from my lover’s hips. Soon my fingers are coated in her moisture and I move the slick digits back up to smooth over her clit.

“Let go, Heather,” I coax in between kissing and biting the thick muscles along her neck and shoulder. “Lose yourself in the moment.”

I slow my hips, drawing out each stoke from the head of my cock to when the base near my balls is snug up against her thighs. I suck the skin on her shoulder into my mouth, squeeze her left breast in one hand, and rub her clit with the lightest of touches with my right. In less than a minute, she’s panting and writhing on me, eager for me to drive her over that glorious edge.

“Come for me, Heather.” I increase the pressure of my fingers on the lower part of her mound, rubbing right and left, edging over her most sensitive place at the top where her outer folds meet. “I want you to come with me.”

Moisture floods around my cock as I plunge into her depths. Ripples wrap around my shaft as she throws her head back and moans her release to the room. My name spills from her lips in a series of pants and I succumb, letting my own orgasm overtake me.

Shudders and small muscle convulsions spasm through my taut frame as I hold myself deep inside Heather’s hot passage. Each pulse of release sends me higher than before, like a rocket going into orbit. Little by little, I come back to myself and feel the sweat cooling on my exposed skin.

Heather rests on her elbows, head hanging down in exhaustion. I brace an arm on the desk and plant soft kisses on the bright red suction marks I left on her shoulder. I hadn’t meant to mark her but got carried away in the heat of the moment. A small smile forms on my lips. At least it’s not immediately visible, like on her throat.

A knock sounds on my office door, too perfectly timed to be a coincidence.

“Tony?” Marcus calls out. “We need to talk.”

Chapter Eleven

HEATHER

Tony’s hand freezes mid-caress, his muscular thighs tense behind mine. “I’m busy right now, Marcus.” I stifle an urge to giggle at his gross understatement. “Whatever it is will have to wait ‘til tomorrow.”

A few tense seconds pass and the man on the other side of the door bites out a terse, “Fine,” and we hear his footsteps retreat down the corridor.

Embarrassment and fear war inside me. “Do you think he heard us?”

A gentle kiss lands on my shoulder. “Don’t know. Don’t care.”

I push away from the hard wood, and Tony quickly grabs a fistful of tissues from his desk. My lover withdraws from my body, leaving me with a physical ache from the loss.

Uh-oh. An ache in my heart when he’s not inside me? That can’t be good. Well, I guess that depends on how you look at it. I no longer think I’m falling for him hard, I know it. Crap.

“Aren’t you worried about your job?” I ask, eager to deflect my mind from my own musings. “Couldn’t Marcus get you in trouble for…,” I hesitate, unsure how to phrase what just happened between us, “…our little adventure?”

Tony turns me to face him and gathers me in his arms. His breath fans my ear and his voice sounds reluctant. “I’ve never had an encounter like what we just shared.” He squeezes me and kisses my neck. “But I can’t deny to having been with a woman in my office before.”

Flashes race through my mind of all the tabloid covers and trashy articles I’ve seen over the years about the corporate playboy. I stiffen and he steps back to look me in the eyes. “Don’t shut me out, please.” He grins, the wicked look transforming his sex-softened features. “I swear I’ve never done anything even close to what we did with anyone—ever.”

Hope springs to life inside me. Is he telling me the truth? I started out angry and ready to tan his hide, literally, but things progressed beyond what I had planned, very quickly.

A shyness I’d like to ignore creeps over me and I look away. “Me neither.”

He grabs my chin and turns me back to stare. “No hiding from me.”

I nod, unsure of an appropriate response. When I stood, my skirt fluttered down to cover my naked backside. Now I’m acutely aware of standing topless in a man’s office.

The resulting acceptance and freedom I feel at my nudity takes me by surprise. Am I becoming the wanton creature I’ve pretended to be? Who was that wild woman wielding the paddle and smacking a man’s bare ass?

God, it felt so exhilarating and empowering. I never would have thought spanking someone as hard as I did wouldn’t hurt. Tony steps away and dresses. I follow his example, aware of a growing hunger in my stomach. All that exercise and excitement works up an appetite.

As I fasten my bra, my stomach rumbles, sounding like a mewling animal. Tony laughs, and grabs me around the waist, pulling me into his arms for a deep kiss.

When we come up for air he says, “Sounds like your body is saying you need to go to dinner with me still.”

He looks hopeful, apparently even now a little worried I might refuse and run. Did I really run away? Have I done that before in relationships and not been aware of it?

Unwilling to examine my personal failings after such an intimate moment, I push the ideas to the back of my mind, promising I’ll do a thorough self-analysis when I’m alone and thinking clearly. Like maybe next year. Standing near this gorgeous hunk of man empties my head of rational thought.

“You’re not going to come up with some lame excuse are you?” Tony asks. “You did promise me.”

His concerned tone jars me into realizing I didn’t answer his first question. “I’m up for dinner.” I smile, forcing a lightness into my expression. I don’t want him to suspect my inner fears and self-doubts. A woman brazen enough to use a paddle on a man in his office and get excited doing it would never balk at a shared meal, right?

I pull on my blouse as Tony fastens his belt. In a moment, he’s ready and grabs the little wooden racket. “I enjoyed this way more than I thought.” He rubs the rubber surface and smacks his palm. A shiver runs over him and when he looks at me again, I see heat in his eyes. “How about you? Did you like spanking me?” A wry expression crosses his face. “You had no problem using it to your advantage.”

I blush and look away, uneasy with the stunt I pulled in negotiating under those circumstances. “I’m not going to apologize for squeezing Apollo for more cash. I know what our company is worth.”

Tony stalks toward me, a glimmer of mischief in his eye. “Do you now? You don’t think it was unfair…having me in such a compromising position?”

I square my shoulders and stand tall. “If I remember right, you didn’t think so at the time.” I cock my head at an angle and jut out my chin. “Are you going to renege now that I don’t have you bent over your desk?”

Tony wraps his arms around me and gives my butt a playful swat with the paddle. The wood hitting my bottom sends a jolt of awareness through me. “Nope, not on your life. But I plan on keeping this handy in case you’d like to feel it, too.”

Anticipation thrills through me at the thought of being at Tony’s mercy. Eager to place my feelings firmly under control, I nip him lightly with my teeth on his shoulder. “We’ll see.” I pull out of his embrace and grab my purse to dig around for a mirror, anxious to see what type of damage was done to my hair and makeup.

“You look fantastic, but there’s a bathroom behind that door, if you need it.” Tony directs me and I gladly escape for a moment to collect myself. I close the door softly, still slightly uncomfortable with the situation. Thinking back, Tony said no to me during our sex play and I was okay with it. Even then, a part of me knew he’d never hurt me. And if I’m honest, that same part of me knows he only went along with my orders because he wanted to. He could easily ignore me or overpower me anytime he wants.

I look in the mirror, expecting the worst.

The attractive woman staring back at me takes my breath away. My lipstick is long gone—the lips swollen from recent attention and appearing plumper than normal. My curled hair is still wavy, but fuller and a little wild. The overall glow of my skin must be from increased circulation. My eyes twinkle with an untold secret. I look like I’ve slept well for a week and been to a designer salon.

Maybe this is what being happy does to a woman.

Quiet. Don’t place more on this than it seems. Sure, you had great sex and spanked his tight bum with a paddle, but that doesn’t mean it’s time to pick out china and go over your bank accounts together.

I sigh. The logical workings of my mind are a nice, harsh reminder of a reality I’d like to ignore.

I use the bathroom facilities and wash up before opening the door. Tony lounges in one of the club chairs by a round table positioned near the window. He rises when I emerge, looking as breathtaking as he did at the meeting but more relaxed. His tousled hair and olive complexion make my hands itch with the desire to touch. Sexy caramel eyes, gold lighting their depths, gaze at me with heat and longing.

Banging my brains out over his desk obviously agrees with him.

“You look beautiful.” He draws my right hand to his lips and kisses the knuckles.

The moment he says it, I believe it. For the first time in I don’t know how long, maybe ever, I feel deserving of the words. “Thank you.”

The handsome executive cocks his arm, offering an elbow to me. “Shall we?”

I rest my hand on his forearm and a smile of pure happiness spreads over my features.

We journey to an exclusive uptown restaurant where I’ve never eaten. The old me would have worried my sexy boots may not be right for the establishment, or that my mussed hair looked uncouth. The new me glances around at the other diners, consciously aware my good looks are drawing attention from the men.

Tony’s hand at my waist drifts lower, cupping my bottom briefly as he whispers in my ear, “Are you missing something?” He squeezes one cheek and lets go. “I have your thong in my pocket.” He hands me off to the server holding out a chair. A flush creeps up my neck as I sit. The waiter pushes my chair in, and drapes a napkin over my lap.

“Good evening, Mr. Carmine,” our over-forty and dashingly dressed waiter says. “It’s a pleasure to see you back. It’s been a while, no?” his Italian accent barely detectable.

Tony’s face transforms into a jovial patron, instead of secret seducer. “You’re right, Leo. I’ve been working long hours for a while now.”

Leo looks to me and then back to Tony. “It’s good to take the time to enjoy the finer things of life, yes?”

Tony’s light eyes lock onto mine. “I couldn’t agree more.” A thrill of pleasure runs through me. I don’t think I’ve ever dated a man so…charismatic and appealing. He makes me feel desirable with a simple glance. “May I order a bottle of white wine, Heather?”

I nod and reach for my water while he discusses choices with the server. I can’t believe less than an hour ago I had this man bent over a desk while smacking his cute butt. I gulp the water and sputter. Heat rushes to my cheeks and Tony raises an eyebrow in my direction. The waiter leaves and he asks, “Are you okay? Is the restaurant too hot for you?”

I shake my head and reach for my menu. “My mind wandered for a minute.”

His sexy and mischievous look returns. A satisfied and indulgent smile blossoms in the dim light. “And where did it wander to, mon amore?” He leans forward and removes the menu from my grasp, taking my smaller hands into his larger ones. “Were you thinking about what you did with that paddle,” his low voice carries only to me, “or what we did after?”

I like this bolder, sexier side of Tony. He let me lead before, but seems perfectly content to switch sides with whatever mood I display. I’m still unsettled by what happened between us—I’ve never connected with another person so intimately.

Heat lights my cheeks again when I think of the noises I made at the end. The entire experience was liberating.

I want to do it again.

Tony’s thumb rubs the back of my hand, encouraging me to answer. “I liked it all.” I look away and then back to him, wondering if I’m revealing too much of myself. “I’ve never done anything like that before.”

His eyes bore into mine. “Like I said before, me neither.”

A small snort escapes before I can stop it. “Really? I find that a little hard to believe with all the women you’ve been with.”

“Quantity doesn’t equate to quality.”

Quality. Huh. I’d never thought of relationships like that. He may be on to something. “I think I’ve had some pretty low-quality relationships myself.”

His expression turns more urgent. “Is that what we have, a relationship? Is this the beginning of something…something more?”

My heart beats loudly in my chest, the pounding filling my ears. I’m glad I’m sitting or I might fall. Can I do this? Can I keep pretending to be someone I’m not and enter a relationship with him? Is the new me an act or is it a part of me I’d never let out?

“Is that what you’d like?” I ask, hoping to get more direction out of him before I answer.

He draws my hand to his lips and kisses my knuckles, like he did when we were alone. “I’d like that very much.”

Our waiter returns with the wine, apologizing for interrupting. Tony releases my hand and I don’t know if I feel relief at Leo’s intrusion or annoyance. This is what I want, isn’t it? I want to go a little further with Tony than sex buddies, right? As the waiter makes a show of pouring and offering the wine, I examine the man across from me.

Strong chin, angled cheekbones, glossy sable-brown hair, and a generous mouth. His wide chest fills his suit, making him almost larger than life at our little table for two. Warmth rushes to my middle, bringing a tingling feeling of goodness to my limbs. Any woman would be a fool not to want a relationship with him.

The waiter leaves and I open my mouth to tell Tony yes, when I hear my name. “Heather? Is that you?”

I turn toward the voice and see Rick, my ex from two years ago. The one who left me on New Year’s Eve for another woman. An unreadable mask slips over Tony’s face as the lanky, polished man approaches.

“Hi, Rick. Yes, it’s me.” A calm I never would have expected at seeing the two-timing jerk settles over me. I smile, secure with the knowledge I’m now with a better man. “How have you been?”

He reaches out to shake my hand and I follow suit, extending my own. To my chagrin, he pulls me out of my chair to hug me. “I’m good.” He lets go quickly, before his actions cross a line past familiar to lascivious.

A welcoming smile spreads from ear to ear when he steps back. “You look terrific.” He tilts his head to the side, examining me. I ignore his overt scrutiny and return to my seat, tossing a helpless, apologetic look at Tony. “Is it the hair? Hmm…I can’t be sure.” Tony clears his throat and Rick finally acknowledges him. “Oh, sorry.” He offers his hand to Tony. “Rick Freeman.”

Tony shakes his hand and replies, “Tony Carmine.”

Recognition at the name sparks in Rick’s expression. A calculating look ensues, and a hopeful gleam comes into his eye. “Do you and Heather work together?”

“No.” His voice sounds almost chilly. “We’re here on a date.”

An unexpected joy fills my heart. Such a simple sentence, yet it makes me feel like I’m his. I’d never date the two-timing jerk again, but Tony doesn’t know that.

“Shoot. Can’t blame a guy for trying.” Rick winks at me and takes his leave, wishing us a good night.

Tony shakes his head and stares at his retreating back. “The nerve of some guys.”

“Don’t let him bother you. I’d never date that asshole again for a million dollars.”

Surprise widens his eyes. “Seriously? But you were so nice to him.”

“Being polite in public does not equate to being nice. Would you rather I called him an asshole for dumping me and made a scene?”

“He dumped you?” Tony reaches across the table for my hand again, drawing it into his and teasing my palm in slow circles with his thumb. “Idiot didn’t know what he had right in front of him.”

I smile. “Good thing I do.”

A smoldering look darkens his caramel depths and he leans forward, raising my hand to his mouth. He moves to kiss the tips of my fingers, but instead, slips his mouth over my index finger. Warm suction surrounds the digit up to the first knuckle and the tip of his tongue teases the end.

A zing of energy travels up my arm and shoots to my crotch. A shudder runs through me as he draws away his clever mouth. “You seem like a smart woman to me.”

The rest of our dinner proceeds without a hitch. Tony feeds me delicacies from his plate and begs some from mine as well. I’ve never been in a situation where the outside fades into the background and the only thing in the moment is you and the man you’re with. But tonight, that’s exactly what happens.

It’s as if Tony is deliberately setting out to seduce me—making sexual innuendos and flirting non-stop. My skirt has been sticking to my privates all night and I feel like a gush of moisture has collected between my folds. Squirming in my seat seems to emphasize my growing desire rather than diminish it.

Even after our explosive encounter in his office, I want him again. Excusing myself before the dessert arrives, I make my way to the ladies room, located in the middle of the large restaurant, off to one side.

Anticipation for what could come after dinner snaps all my senses to high alert. This euphoric rush is entirely new. Have I felt this giddy with men before or is this one different?

Nope. Tony is definitely unique.

I wash up and apply lipstick. Giving my head a playful shake, I fluff my curls and leave to join my date. Tony mentioned going to his place tonight, but I’m not sure that’s a good idea. I’ve got that early morning meeting tomorrow with Mr. Sayers.

I walk through the restaurant and falter when I see three men trailing the hostess, walking right toward the section I’m seated with Tony. As if my thoughts of work have conjured him, Mr. Sayers along with two other men who came to the meeting today take a table ten feet behind Tony.

Holy crap. There is no way I can return and sneak out unseen with Tony. I turn around, changing course for the front door before I’m spotted. If they see me with someone from Apollo, I’m sure they’ll think the worst. Like I’m sleeping with the enemy and giving him corporate secrets.

Oh God! That’s partly true—I am sleeping with Tony. Tears sting my eyes as I storm through the foyer while digging in my purse for my phone. I wonder if they’d fire me right on the spot or make a big scene?

How could I not have thought of this before we went out in public? The timing couldn’t be worse. All I’ve worked for the past years, thrown away for a roll in the hay.

Outside, I rush two doors down and stand in the light of a closed shop. Finding my phone, I scroll through the numbers to find Tony’s. I hit dial, adrenaline making my hands shake. I’ve got to tell him why I’m not coming back from the bathroom. If I don’t, he’ll think I’m running.

Do I really do that? Did I run two years ago when I thought Rick was two-timing me on the dance floor but maybe he really wasn’t? Could he have just been dancing with her and when I ran out he thought I left him?

Tony’s phone continues to ring, unanswered, and dread fills me. Oh God, what if he left his phone at the office? What the hell am I going to do?

Chapter Twelve

TONY

Our cheesecake arrived two minutes ago and Heather still isn’t back from the bathroom. I hope something she ate didn’t make her sick. Worry crinkles my brow as I glance at my watch for the third time. I’ll feel awful if it was one of the items from my plate.

The sound of a throat clearing draws my attention to Leo, our waiter. “Mr. Carmine, you have a phone call at the hostess desk.”

“Really?” I pat my pockets, belatedly realizing my phone is missing. When was the last time I left it behind? Must be years. Then again, it felt good to not be interrupted during dinner for a change.

Leo nods, motioning for me to follow. I glance toward the bathroom again and rise to follow the server. It’d better not be Marcus, he knows I love this place. I’ll have to punch the prick good if it is. Needs to mind his own damn business.

Lost in my own ruminations, I’m almost past the three executives from Parkerson before I recognize them. They’re in a heated discussion and don’t notice me, so I continue toward the front of the establishment, grateful I don’t have to make small talk.

The pretty blonde at the front hands me a cordless phone. “Hello?”

“Tony, it’s me, Heather.”

A fist tightens in my chest, crushing my heart. “What the hell is going on? Are you okay?”

“I didn’t run out on you, I swear.”

Everything becomes clear when I connect her leaving to whom I passed in the restaurant. “You’re worried about being seen with me, aren’t you?” Tension I didn’t know I was holding drains out of me.

“I saw Mr. Sayers being seated near our table. I couldn’t risk it. The timing is really bad. Think of how it will look.”

I run a hand through my hair, unused to a woman having to hide to be with me. A few of them used to alert the media for a photo op. “Yeah, I understand.” I breathe out a sigh and hear her do the same on the other end of the line. “I don’t have to like it, but I understand.”

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t reach you on your cell…”

“I didn’t know I forgot it until Leo came over. Look, I’ve got to pay the bill before I leave. Where are you?”

“I’m two doors down, on the left.”

“Wait for me, please?”

She hesitates, which ratchets up my anxiety another notch. “Okay.”

I signal to Leo for the bill and wait by the front door. After I pay, I bolt out to find her. Why did she hesitate at the end of our call? Is she worried the risk of being with me isn’t worth it?

Two doors down leads me to the closed establishment of a high-end clothier. Heather leans on the locked glass door, one booted ankle crossed over the other. She smiles at my appearance, pushing off to join me on the sidewalk.

She takes a deep breath while striding down the block. “I think we need to lay low for a while.”

I stop on the sidewalk. “What? You mean we can’t be together because you’re worried about your job?”

“That’s not fair. I’ve worked really hard to get where I am.”

I start walking again, unsure if we’re going to my place or hers. “I don’t doubt you worked hard to get where you are. Hell, you’ve done your job and Harvey’s for the last few years.”

She tugs on my arm. “Speaking of which, how the hell did you know that?”

“Easy. I met him and then I read the financials. It didn’t add up. How could this raging alcoholic manage such a complex portfolio and company funds? When I saw you in the meeting and learned you were his assistant, the rest fell into place.”

“How come you saw something no one in my company has seen for years?”

I halt on the sidewalk, hauling her to my front. How can this woman drive me to distraction and make me want to scream like no other woman ever has? Wrapping my arms about her gently, I kiss her hard. Our passion boils, engulfing me in heat. We break for air, both of us gasping. “Maybe what you need to ask yourself is why those people never let themselves see what was right in front of them? Was it easy? Was it cheaper? What did they gain?”

By the shell-shocked expression on her face, I can surmise she’s surprised. “You really think keeping me under Harvey could have been on purpose?”

I shrug, not really caring, just wanting to know where I stand with her. “Does it matter? What matters is how you’re going to let your fear affect us.”

Her spine stiffens and a righteous look of anger comes over her. “My fear? Is that what you think my cautiousness is?” She stomps down the sidewalk, clearly headed for her apartment. Which makes sense when I think about it. She still doesn’t know where my place is. “Did it ever occur to you that I could be sued?”

I hurry after her, mentally slapping myself for my choice of words.

She continues, desperation fueling her. “That if they thought I was collaborating with you, I could be in serious legal trouble?”

“All right, you make some valid points.”

She storms down the street, crossing against the light. Her anger has blinded her to the surroundings. I reach out and grab her long flowing hair, stopping her before she steps into the path of an oncoming cab.

“Ow! What the hell?”

“Heather! You almost walked in front of a damn car!” The anger inside at her recklessness tumbles up and out. My own fear holds me hostage—its clutches wrapping around my throat, making breathing difficult.

I force my hands to soothe rather than grab blindly in panic, running my palms up and down her upper arms. “Please, stop and calm down.”

The self-righteous rant drains from her when she realizes what almost happened. “I’m not myself right now. I really need to get home.”

“Not without me, you don’t.”

A bit of her spitfire flashes back. “Feeling awfully pushy and possessive, aren’t you?”

I grasp her hands and speak softly, trying to ease her jittery fight or flight response like one might a skittish horse. “I like you. I like you a lot. I want to see you get home safely. That’s it.”

Her expression softens and she melts into me for a brief moment, leaning against my chest. Then she straightens her back and stares into my eyes. “Uh-huh. Sure. Like you’re not hoping to get into my pants for round two?”

Fire lights in my gut, kindles my blood a few degrees as an erection stirs in my pants. “I’m sincere in wanting you to get home safely.” I bow down and kiss her with tenderness. This time when I pull back she looks a little starry-eyed. “But a man can hope, can’t he?”

She laughs and the negative wave of tension between us breaks. She links her arm back through mine and turns a corner toward her building. No way in hell is this evening ending until I know exactly where I stand with her and what she plans for us in relation to her job. The panicked look on her face a few minutes ago made me think she was ready to scrap any shot at us just to save her job.

As we walk the rest of the way in silence, an epiphany hits me. I’m not sure when it happened, but I can’t believe I can say it and mean it.

A job is just that—a job. It won’t keep you warm at night, won’t grow old with you, and besides providing financial security, sure as hell won’t do anything for you. Like have kids, or be there when you get sick, or pick you up when you fall. Or stop you from stepping in front of a car when you’re agitated.

This woman, on the other hand, means something to me. Could this be what love feels like? It shocks me to my soul to realize she matters more than the job I’d previously sacrificed everything for. Maybe that’s where she is right now: her job matters more. Maybe she hasn’t had the realization yet.

Yeah, well, why the hell would she? It’s not like she’s your age or in your financial position.

A time has to come when enough is enough.

Enough money, enough gadgets, enough prestige, enough…power.

We get to her building and take the elevator to her floor. Heather turns toward me with keys in her hand. “Well, I’m here safe and sound. Consider your good deed done.”

“Is that what you think? That I walked you home as a good deed?”

She shrugs and looks away. “I don’t know. I was just trying to be funny.” She twiddles with the keys.

“Where do we stand, you and I?” I ask, my heart in my throat. “I told you at dinner what I wanted, but I’m not so sure you feel the same way.”

“Let’s go inside.”

Relief pours through me. For a minute I was afraid she was going to send me on my way without us talking things out. And for the first time in my life, I think I may like the girl more than she likes me.

The sensation leaves me vulnerable and shaky. I don’t like it. If this is what love is, it sucks.

“Tony?”

“Yes?” If she gives me the brush off right now, I may just snap.

“I want to keep seeing you, but…”

“Spit it out, Heather, please.”

“We can’t be seen in public until after the merger is complete.”

The hesitant look on her face makes me want to punch every man she’s ever dated. She thinks I’ll react poorly. Considering the spot she’s in, keeping our relationship private for the time being is a sensible solution. Much better than her telling me she can’t see me until the deal is over. I would have had to talk her out of that, even if I had to use my tongue all damn night.

I shut the door and take off my coat, tossing it on a dinning room chair as I stalk closer to Heather.

I stare at my lover, letting her see the full weight of my desires. “We’re not in public right now, are we?”

Her cheeks flush and she meets my darkening look. “No, we’re not.” She reaches behind her hips and deftly lowers the hidden zipper that foiled me earlier this evening. The patterned material slips over her hips and pools near her sexy silver heels.

The long boots hug every curve of her leg and end several inches above her knees. My gaze travels over the creamy exposed skin of her thigh, to rest on the black hair trimmed neatly at the juncture between her legs. It may be my imagination, but I swear there’s a bead of moisture glinting between the smooth folds of her sex.

Perhaps the only communication that will work between us tonight is showing her exactly how I feel. I take a step toward her, unbuttoning my shirt and letting the naked feelings I have for her shine in my eyes. Heather pulls off her blouse and tosses it aside, revealing her firm, high breasts encased in lacey bra cups.

My mouth runs dry and words escape me as I stare at the perfection of her lithe form. I want to possess her, mark her as mine, wipe out every memory of every man she’s been with until only thoughts of me remain.

I clench my jaw as I step closer. Heather steps backward, her attention traveling to the bulge in the front of my pants then back up to my face. With a cocky grin, she turns and sashays down the hall toward the bedroom, her naked bottom swinging side to side with each stride.

My muscles bunch, eager to pursue. I take a deep breath and relax. I need to make love to her, not race to the finish like our previous encounters. I want to leave her body remembering mine long after we part. If I can’t see her during the day or in public for the next week, then I damn well better make an impression when I’m with her. I finish taking off my clothes, but leave my briefs on. I don’t want to be tempted to hurry due to my own driving needs.

As I step into her dimly lit bedroom, I see her reclined on the bed, waiting. Without a word spoken, I join her and run my hands up the boots to her heated skin.

A shiver shudders over her as her pointed pink tongue darts out to moisten her mouth.

I lie next to her and then impulsively throw a leg over her thighs and straddle her body. Her mouth opens to speak and I swoop down to plant my lips on hers before she can issue a command. Taking advantage of her already parted lips, my tongue dives in to explore.

Her eyes widen as I nibble on her bottom lip, trace my tongue along her teeth, and then suck her top lip into my mouth. Staring into her sparkling depths, I see an urgency building in her brown eyes. A moment later her hips rise off the bed, rotating and pressing her heat against my erection.

The warmth of her seeps through my underwear, even with her thighs trapped closed between mine. I circle my hips in return, grinding down and dipping my silk-covered length between her legs, enough to rub the shaft on the hard nub between her folds.

A shyness and hesitancy glows from her dark eyes. Does she doubt my intentions? Did she worry I’d only want her if she was in charge? Time for me to take the lead and really show her how I feel.

I ease my body to the side and tilt her onto her hip, snuggling close along her spine. The heat from her skin warms my chest as I curl my body around hers.

I lean away to unhook her bra, then cradle her with one hand boldly cupping and kneading a breast. A gentle rocking motion starts low in my hips, pumping myself up and down between her cheeks.

“I—”

“Shh…No talking.” I lean in and plant lingering kisses over her exposed neck. “Tonight, let me please you.”

The subtle scent that is all Heather floods my senses, and I stifle the urge to bite down and suck her flesh between my teeth. Can’t send her to the office with a hickey, no matter how much I want the world to know she’s taken.

My hand trails from her now peaked nipples to dip lower, running over the gentle swell of her stomach, searching for the arousal I know awaits between her thighs. Heather lifts her top leg, granting me access and tempting me beyond reason. She supports her raised knee with a hand on her leather-encased leg, pointing one silver high heel to the ceiling. The sexy sight brings a chill of want, creating a desire to rear back and scoot lower, to lick her ‘til she screams.

Wanting to get my skin as close to hers as I can, I shove down my briefs and mold against her backside once more. Instead of pinning my arm alongside her, I ease my left arm under her head, encouraging her to rest on my bicep. I splay my right hand over her lower abdomen and quest downward, combing through her soft pubic hair.

My shaft wedges between the firm halves of her butt, content to rock back and forth while I stroke her raging fire higher. I want to slip myself down and drive into her so badly it hurts. Not yet. I want her as crazy as I am first.

Slickness and heat greet my advancing fingers, proving she’s enjoying this as much as I hoped. I tease the hard bud with the flat of three fingers, slowly rubbing while her hips pump steadily front and back, rocking against my erection. A moan of want spills from her as she pulls away, allowing my cock to spring down between the space of our bodies.

She shifts slightly and fits her body to mine once more, forcing my shaft to rub over the wetness at her very center. Fighting the call to angle and push in with every fiber of my soul, I glide my rod forward and back, slicking her moisture over the tight skin.

Her wiggling becomes more pronounced and I get the distinct feeling she’s trying to shove me inside her. I curl my arm lying underneath her head, encircling her neck to lay a hand on her top shoulder. Very softly, I hold her in place while my fingers drive her to her first peak.

Slowly I build her up, alternating between grinding her clit and stroking the sides with the slick lubrication from her body. Her gasps and moans increase until she’s writhing on my hand and slamming her hips back into mine. The beauty of the moment takes my breath away as she crashes over the edge—a series of short yells punctuating her release.

No longer able to hold off, I adjust the angle of my hips and inch into her while she’s still orgasming. Heat and tightening muscles engulf my steel hardness, wringing a groan of delight from me. The added sensation pushes her up and she comes again, peaking higher and louder than before.

I draw my fingers away, allowing her body to recover while I slowly pump in and out of her spasming depths. Grasping her raised leg, I glance down her body at the glorious sight of those sexy boots. I’ll never be able to look at them again without thinking of this moment with her.

My hand that clasps her shoulder releases and I stroke the soft skin, soothing her while I slowly make love to her. Once I bury myself to the hilt, I begin to pump faster, gradually picking up my pace.

I let go of her leg and return to her nipples, determined to tease and entice another orgasm out of her. Her relaxed body responds to the tweaking and pulling, and her nipple distends further than before, with a rosy glow.

Unable to quench my desire to kiss her, I lean closer and nuzzle her cheek. She turns her head to angle better and we lock lips, pouring our hearts into the connection.

Judging the time to be right, I slide my fingers lower to gather some of her moisture. Her previously relaxed hips react, reaching for my soft touch. We break our kiss and I return to lavishing her neck and shoulder with short, then long, lingering kisses.

As my shaft withdraws from her body, I curl my fingers, drawing more sensation from her silky folds. Then I plunge up and rub my fingers on her outer lips.

The minutes go by, and soon little chants of “yeah, oh yeah” spill from her, telling me I’ve set a good pace.

Her increasing excitement spurs my own and I move my attention to her aroused nub once more, testing its sensitivity with a few tentative strokes.

A jolt shakes her body and her inner walls clench around me. The added stimulation takes her by surprise, and judging by the rapid increase in her hips, it’s a good surprise. Again she holds her leg, pinning it up near her hip, to rest against my forearm, while I plunge into her over and over.

Her next peak takes us both by surprise, coming on her fast. I take full advantage of the sensations and increase speed. The strength of her release doesn’t diminish and her clasping muscles draw my own orgasm up and out of me, despite my best intentions to make love to her longer.

My grasp on her shoulder tightens as my hips pummel her firm cheeks. I stop thrusting, overcome with the intensity of my release, and the convulsing muscles around my shaft milk it for every drop.

We lay wrapped in each other for several minutes. If that didn’t tell her how I feel about her, I’m not sure what will. She moves slightly to disengage our bodies and I hold her close, unwilling to let this moment end.

Chapter Thirteen

HEATHER

We made love twice more in the night, each encounter unique and glorious. Even though no words were spoken, I know it in my heart things have changed between us.

I didn’t take charge, and neither did Tony. Each joining was a mutual experience deeper than anything I’ve ever shared with a man. As the morning sun peeks through my drapes, I open my eyes and sigh, unwilling to leave the warm bed.

The weight of Tony’s arm lies over my waist, corralling me closer even in sleep. A smile of pure happiness leaks from me as I realize this has been my dream all along. To wake up next to someone I care about, and who cares for me in return.

No one judging me or tearing me down, no empty declarations when I open my heart, no cold sheets on a long winter’s night.

Moving carefully, I slip from the bed and retrieve my robe from the bathroom door. A glance at the clock reveals I’ve plenty of time to get ready before work. I face the bed, staring at the gorgeous man sleeping on my pillow, unable to comprehend that last night really happened.

My lover lies in a crumpled tangle of sheets and blankets, his olive complexion and cut muscles stirring desire through me even after all my releases last night. Unlike the waxed men of Hollywood, Tony boasts a light dusting of hair across his chest. It accentuates his masculinity and muscle depth rather than hiding it.

Impulsively, I grab my old, but reliable, camera off the dresser and snap a few pictures of him. The sheet bunches near his rib cage, leaving his wide biceps and corded forearms bare. I felt the strength in those arms as he held me. A tingle runs through me at the memory of his embrace while I came.

The whir and click of the camera echoes in the silent room. My zoom lens allows close-ups on his relaxed face without disturbing him. The faded scar on his chin tugs at my heartstrings. The small imperfection adds to his appeal rather than detracting from it. Was he a wild boy? Did he tumble off his bike or get hit while throwing rocks with other boys? I’ll have to ask him.

Tony moves slightly, his arm searching for me. His eyes flutter open as a small frown mars his forehead.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” I say, placing the camera back on the dresser.

“Time to start the day?” he asks on a yawn. I nod and my mouth grows dry when he stretches, the sheet slipping down to reveal his lower abdomen and the dark V of hair that points lower. As I stare, the material below his waist starts to stir. I can’t believe he’s rising again so soon. The man must be pure testosterone. “Although, if you keep looking at me like that I’ll be tempted to stay in bed all day.” His accompanying smile implies he’s not adverse to the notion.

My heart beats faster as I fight the urge to lick my lips. “I wish I could. I’ve got that meeting at nine.”

He nods and rises, unconcerned with his nude state. The moment he stands my eyes drop to his growing arousal. His increasing interest triggers my own and I turn, rushing for the shower. I’ll never be on time if I give in to my baser needs every time I look at him.

“I’ll be quick,” I say while turning on the water. “You can have a shower next if you’d like.” Once the water feels right I step in, eager to be away from temptation. Maybe I should turn the water to cold to flush out the sexual thoughts of climbing back into bed with my new lover.

I pile up my hair and clip it, since today isn’t a day to wash it, and then reach for the soap. In the next instant the curtain whips open from the back of the tub.

“Mind if I join you?” A protest dies on my lips when I see the look on his face. Pure animal desire darkens his expression. “Hand me the scrubby.” His cock juts out at full attention. “I’ll do your back.”

The vibrant feelings after our morning shower interlude sustain me all the way to Mr. Sayers’s office.

My boss’s boss stares at me across his desk and asks calmly, “How do you think Mr. Carmine knew about you running Harvey’s job for him?”

A huge knot forms in my throat and I feel a sweat breaking out on my forehead. “They did go to lunch together.”

He nods. “Was it one of Harvey’s regular five Martini lunches?”

“I can’t say for sure, since I wasn’t there, but he did act like it might have been when he returned to the office.”

“Perhaps Apollo made the leap based on meeting him and seeing the man at his worst?”

My hands wring together on my lap. “It has been increasingly difficult to keep Harvey up to speed on current facts regarding recent transfers. He could have misspoken and placed doubt in their minds.”

“Let’s cut right to the chase, Heather.” I nod, desperately trying not to flinch. “We’re in a bind. None of the board was aware you’d taken over Harvey’s duties. I thought you’d stepped up and handled a bit more since his wife died, but not to the extent you obviously have. You’ve done an excellent job, especially in light of not having all the info you’d need to plan effectively.”

I know he’s referring to our recent shortage of cash. If I had been aware of our company’s recent contract losses and employee issues, I could have moved investments around to free up more money…and ridden Harvey harder about meeting the credit line requirements.

“Thank you, sir. I’m just sorry it wasn’t enough to save the company when we really needed it.”

Mr. Sayers sits forward a little on his chair. “That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about.” My eyebrows creep up in surprise. “We want you to see if it’s possible to orchestrate things in the next few days to free up funds.”

“Sir?”

He looks out the window, determination in his steely gaze. “I didn’t build this company for twenty years to have it taken from me. I want to fight this buyout, as do the other board members. But we need your help.”

“Mine? How?” If he’s asking me to do what I think, how can I keep it from Tony? How would that affect his job with his company?

Mr. Sayers’s attention snaps back to me. “All five of us are willing to invest our personal assets to support payroll and company overhead while you liquidate and move monies around.” My eyes widen at the risk and I open my mouth to protest. He raises a hand to stall me. “We all realize the dangers. But I’ve been looking over the portfolio you’ve built and I think we can manage it. That and I’ll be putting in a personal call to the bank handling our credit line and see if we can’t get an exception on the deadline we missed.” He smiles, a sad crooked smile full of hope and strength. “It’s not over yet. What do you say?”

Pressure settles on my chest as I struggle to voice my concerns. “Uh, it sounds like a long shot, but I’m willing to do whatever you need.” I clear my throat and glance at the floor then back up. “What does this mean for Harvey and for my position?”

His face loses all traces of humor. “I won’t deny what Harvey hid from us all these years may be the entire firm’s undoing—and I’m really furious over it, as are the other board members. But he also helped to build the company and make it what it is today. I don’t want him involved anymore and neither does the rest of the board. He’s going to be pushed into an early retirement. If—and it’s a big if—if we can get past this mess and save the firm, his job is yours.”

My heart expands at his words, the pressure in my chest indescribable. I’d be the first woman in the company’s history to be on the board. Granted, it’s a small board, but damn, it’s a huge step in the right direction for the all-boys crew currently holding the reins.

I nod and lean forward. “All right, then. Let’s talk terms, first for my advancement and next for the company.”

Surprise lights his eyes at my announcement, but a smile curves his face when he realizes I’m serious. If he thinks the board is going to get me for a cheap price because of my age or gender, then they have another think coming.

Oliver, which he insisted I call him after my third use of Mr. Sayers, and I go to lunch after our meeting. If I can save the company, I will be granted the CFO position and a salary close to what Harvey was making. The added money will increase my financial security and bring me one step closer to a brighter future.

At the end of our meal, Oliver reinforced the need for discretion. We can’t risk anyone from Apollo getting a whiff of what we’re planning.

I don’t like the prospect of hiding anything from Tony, and I’m not sure I can do it. What will happen to us if I do succeed and save my company? Has he ever lost a buyout before? Could he lose his job?

I shake my head, trying my best to dispel the guilty thoughts that my actions could hurt his career. This is the modern world and business should be separate from personal lives. Right?

My phone vibrates in my pocket, indicating a text has come in. I draw it out and see it’s from Tony.

How’s your day going?

Busy, I type back. Yours?

Same. But my thoughts keep drifting to a blue soap scrubby….any idea why? ;-)

My face warms at the reminder of how he washed every inch of me with that scrubby this morning, until I was squirming and practically begging him to take me. And then how he made sure all my needs were met before we turned off the water.

LOL! You were very thorough with your washing. I will give you that!

I’m thinking of cutting out of work early, like 5. What time are you working ‘til?

Crap. With this new plan I have a boatload of work I need to get done. I’ll be here until at least 8.

Damn. Okay. Want to meet after? Come to my place?

I’ve never been to his apartment. I wonder where it is. Sounds great. I’ll call you when I’m done.

Off and on throughout the day, my thoughts trail back to him and last night. It felt like we really made progress as a couple.

A couple. Wow. Is that what we are now? Even though we shared an incredible experience last night, I’m still not sure where I stand with him. He did mention the word relationship, which I thought would be taboo for a guy like him. Keeping him a little at arms length until we clear up the buyout might be for the best.

My cell rings and I see it’s Carla. I answer right away. “Hey, girl. How you doing? You’re in Philly this week, right?”

Carla groans. “Yeah. It’s been a long ass week so far. And that guy I dated last week blew me off.”

I scramble around to remember whom she’s talking about. Oh yeah, she went out with one of the speed dating guys. “His loss. Don’t waste any more time thinking about it.”

“Easier said than done. I was hoping I could talk you into going clubbing with me on Friday.”

“When do you get back?” I hate clubbing and I’m hoping she’ll be getting back so late she’ll be too tired and bail on the idea.

“I’ll be home around noon. Plenty of time to rest up and party.” I hesitate in answering and she jumps in, a cajoling tone to her voice. “Come on…don’t make me cheer up myself without you.”

I laugh. “Oh sure, like you’d be alone for more than five minutes at any bar.”

“That’s not the point. And besides I don’t want to pick up a guy. I want to have a girls night. Dance and forget men for a while. How about if I invite Gemma and Katrina, too? We could make a real night of it. Haven’t done that in ages.”

In spite of my inner reservations regarding a drunken girls night, I agree. If today’s workload is any indication to go by, I might need to blow off some steam by the end of this week.

The hours drag after our call. Dinner in my office is not fun. I never have enjoyed working late. After a certain time, the numbers blur and I can’t concentrate worth a damn. Some of the assets I need to move are thankfully on west coast time, so I get a bit more accomplished before shutting down for the night.

Anticipation thrills through me at the prospect of showing up at the next Apollo meeting and informing them we don’t have to take their offer, no matter how much it’s for. Guilt wars within me over the underhanded negotiation techniques I used on Tony. I wonder if he’ll be able to get the higher amount approved. Wouldn’t surprise me in the least if the deal doesn’t fly. Seven million is no small amount.

As I ride the elevator to my apartment, sheer exhaustion takes its toll. I don’t think we slept much last night and I’m really wiped out.

I want to see Tony, but I also want to sleep so I can be recharged for the full day I’ve got ahead of me. The board wants an update at two and I want to maximize what I can report to make a good impression.

I let myself into my apartment and drop my belongings on the dining room table. It’s almost nine and all I want to do is sleep. I grab my cell to call Tony. He answers on the second ring.

“I was getting worried about you. It’s late.”

“Yeah, sorry.” My voice warps a little as I suppress a yawn. “Someone kept me up late last night and I’m pooped. Who would’ve thought?”

Tony’s masculine chuckle warms me to my very toes. “If I recall correctly, it wasn’t all my doing. You were quite the active participant.”

“Well, I paid for it at work. Today was chock full of excitement.” Crap! I probably shouldn’t have said that.

“Oh, really? How did your meeting go?”

“Um, not bad. Better than expected. After all, your company did drop quite a surprise on us.” I might not be able to tell him what I’m doing, but I can speak in generalities and be safe. “The ramifications sent everyone into a tail spin, trust me.”

“I figured that might be why you worked late. I bet you could do with a neck massage. How about it? Want the address to come over?”

“Would you mind if we postponed ‘til tomorrow? I’m bushed.”

Silence greets me as I wait for a response.

“That’s fine, I understand. I’ve had days like that myself. Tomorrow it is.”

Relief floods me at his gracious acceptance. I don’t think I could have handled guilt tonight. We end the call and I take a long, hot bath and then slip into bed. Tomorrow promises to be another long day of deciphering spread sheets, balancing losses, and organizing data to do the impossible—saving Parkerson Advertising.

Chapter Fourteen

TONY

I click off the phone and pace like a caged lion. There’s a tightness around my chest and I’m not sure why. Returning to the dining room, I blow out the candles on the table. She didn’t know I’d planned a light meal or set things up. I can’t take her canceling personally. It has nothing to do with me and is purely a work stress.

One I’ve experienced many times myself over the past decade.

Sure, I can mumble all the platitudes I’d like, but at the end of the evening, I’m the one left cleaning up the dinner and sleeping by myself. Of course, she’d be busy with the added workload our buyout offer has caused, but the disappointment still rocks me. I wonder if this is how the women I dated felt when I called last minute and bailed on them.

Pretty shitty, no matter how you cut it.

I clean up and place the gift I bought for her on a side table near the door. It will keep ‘til tomorrow. Waking up this morning to the unmistakable sound of an electronic camera shutter gave me a great idea, and I checked her camera before slipping into the bathroom. It didn’t bother me that she was taking pictures—hearing the camera shutter was kind of sexy.

I took another moment while she was getting dressed to reexamine the pictures hanging throughout her apartment. She has a real eye for the medium. After cutting out of work at five, I spent my early evening shopping for the best professional camera money can buy. I can’t wait to surprise her with it.

Most women want fancy clothes or jewels. But I have a feeling the way to this woman’s heart is by unconventional means—and I aim to find it, no matter what.

Climbing into the large, empty bed in the company apartment, I can’t help but wish I was at Heather’s place. This unit might be huge and tastefully decorated, but nothing in it is mine except for the clothes. I need time in Jersey this weekend, working on my building to regain balance.

Maybe Heather would like to see my place. I’ve never taken a woman there. I wonder if it’s too soon. Will she balk if I move faster than she’d like?

I roll over and punch my pillow, too keyed up to sleep and annoyed that I’m confused like a teenager on what to do regarding Heather. What is it about this woman that has me so tied up in knots?

Tomorrow will be a better day. We’ll eat, laugh, make love, and not talk about this merger that has her working like a dog.

The next morning there’s a pounding on my door before I finish dressing. It’s not even seven, way too early for a delivery or maintenance call. I open the door and see Marcus, dressed for work and holding two large to-go cups of coffee.

“We need to talk,” he says, pushing his way past me and heading toward the breakfast bar.

“What the hell, man? You couldn’t wait ‘til I showed up at eight?”

A snort sounds from my old friend while he settles onto a barstool. “Yeah, so you could blow me off all damn day like you did yesterday?” He shakes his head. “I don’t think so.”

I close the front door and join him, taking a long sip of the purchased java before speaking. “What’s got your panties in a bunch?”

Marcus sputters on his hot coffee. “Seriously? Where should I start? How about with you ‘entertaining’ Heather in your office after our meeting with Parkerson? She’s smoking hot, by the way. Or with the sudden higher bid you put in yesterday—seven million more? What the fuck? Did you really think finance could sign off on that without approval from Nikko?”

I grimace and look away. I wondered if I’d have a problem with the higher negotiation bid. My hope was it would go unnoticed until next Friday when we’re scheduled to meet with the Parkerson executives again. “I looked over our bid again. Their assets warrant a higher offer if we don’t want them to fight the merger.”

An angry look crosses his face. “Well, your timing was shit. Brian happened to be in our department when it came in. He noticed the significant increase and questioned your methods to Nikko, telling him there’s no need.”

Panic and rage burn through me. If the higher number is turned down, we could very well lose this deal. I have no idea if Heather mentioned our private negotiation to her bosses. But if she did and the offer never comes through, they could hold out for more or become increasingly difficult to work with, making this a truly hostile takeover—which is never fun. “That’s a bad idea, man. It needs to be higher or they will create problems on the buyout.”

“Oh, yeah? And how do you know? Could you perhaps be talking business in the bedroom when you shouldn’t be? Has this woman got you so wrapped around her finger she talked you into more money?”

Heat scalds my skin and I turn to the sink to hide my reaction. “This is the livelihood of hundreds of people we’re talking about.”

“And most of them will keep their jobs when we take over. You’ve never done this last minute change of terms before, what gives?”

Tension tightens my shoulders. I put my coffee down and rinse some dishes to buy myself time. What the hell kind of answer can I give? My gut answer that the company will balk didn’t convince him. I sure as hell can’t say Heather wrung the number out of me during sex play. Even if the company deserves a higher offer, the truth of how the bid came about would nullify it.

I take a deep breath and turn back to my colleague. “Let’s just leave it for now. My instinct tells me if the number is higher we’ll have fewer problems closing this deal.”

His steady gaze unnerves me. “We’ve dealt with hostile takeovers before. Why should one more make any difference?”

I shrug, unwilling to admit that it matters because of Heather. No doubt her office will be looking for final paperwork on the offer soon. If the lower number comes through, she’ll know I didn’t honor our bargain. More importantly, had she told anyone higher up, and would they be expecting a larger deal?

“I’m going to stand by my offer of fifty-two million.”

Marcus looks shocked at my words.

I shrug, grabbing my to-go cup. “If it doesn’t close on the lower offer, I will be the one saying ‘I told you so.’”

“If I were you, I’d be more worried Brian uses this as leverage to shoe-horn himself into the prime negotiator spot and leave you on your ass.”

I’ve nothing to say to that. If my record doesn’t speak for itself at Apollo, then I don’t know what will. I finish getting ready while Marcus waits. We head into the office together and damned if my day doesn’t start off bad and progress steadily down hill. I’m called in for a private meeting with Nikko and Brian. By lunchtime, Brian has sweet-talked Nikko into thinking the offer is too high based on the company’s assets and the owner begrudgingly agrees, allowing Brian to take over the deal. The paperwork for forty-five million goes out to Parkerson.

The anger and frustration over the situation has my blood boiling. Brian bent the old man’s ear and filled it full of crap. Nikko has been fair in the past and I’m surprised he can’t see beyond the other man’s machinations. Yeah, don’t trust the guy who helped double your worth to two hundred billion in less than ten years. Trust the one who wants to save you seven million.

I itch to call Heather and let her know what’s going on. I know I can’t because it’s highly unprofessional and if I’m caught, I could get fired, not to mention sued.

The quick turnaround from the figurative fair-hair child to second best has thrown me for such a loop, it takes all of me to not pick up my chair and hurl it through the window. In the short span of forty-eight hours, I’ve managed to fuck up my career, break a verbal negotiation I made with a client, and fall in love with a woman.

Holy shit. There it is. I love her.

Three firsts in the last two days. Admittedly, the last one scares me the most.

Deidra knocks on my door and sticks her head in. “How you doing in here, Tony?”

My breath wheezes out in a rush. “I’ve been better.”

“I’ve got a call on line two for you regarding the steel deal set for next month.”

I run a hand through my hair and close my eyes briefly. Work marches on no matter what personal epiphany you may be experiencing. It’s humbling and intrusive all at once. “Fine. Put it through.”

The phone on my desk rings. I take a deep breath and square myself. Time to reapply and climb back to the top. I’ll need to prove myself to Nikko, again, and kick that weaselly Brian in the balls, all at the same time.

After the conference call, I pace my office carpet. I’ve sent three texts to Heather this afternoon and none of them have been returned. Has she reviewed the lower offer with her bosses and wondered what’s going on?

I have a distinct feeling she’s going to cancel on me last minute again tonight.

If she does, I’ll be showing up at her apartment. There is no way we’re not talking things out.

By eight o’clock I’m sitting on the couch with my cell in my hand, waiting for her to call. It’s official. I’m hard up for a girl. Me, the rat bastard who used to buy a woman a diamond bracelet when I was about to dump her so she’d have something to soothe her anger.

Now it occurs to me, it isn’t about their damaged pride so much as their broken heart. How could I have known when I never felt the same way about them? This empty feeling in my chest scares the crap out of me.

Is it possible to love someone you’ve only known a little over a week? Is this just a strong case of lust and I’m acting like an idiot? How are you supposed to know the difference?

My phone rings and I jump. I deliberately do not answer until the second ring so I don’t look like I’m sitting here waiting for her to call. Freakin’ pathetic.

“Hey, Tony. It’s me.”

“Hey.”

“I’m still at the office and probably will be for another hour or so.”

My heart sinks to my stomach. Just like I thought. I knew she’d cancel. I force a lightness into my voice I’m not feeling. “Yeah, I understand.” Part of me is waiting for the other shoe to drop—for her to call me out on the lower deal. “What about tomorrow night? You don’t plan on working late on Friday, do you?”

“I’m sorry. I already made plans with friends.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Oh, dear. This looks bad doesn’t it?” I don’t answer, afraid if I do I will sound like a sullen brat. “It’s the timing, Tony, I swear. This buyout has created more work than any of us bargained for. We’re all working late nights.”

I nod, then remember she can’t see it and grunt a response. For some reason, she’s pulling away from me. The non-returned texts prove it. Something is up and I aim to find out what.

We end the call after I suggest taking her to my building this weekend. She agreed, even sounded enthusiastic about the idea, but a part of me worries about that eagerness.

Holy crap. Is she going to dump me on Saturday? I thought we really connected Tuesday night, but maybe it was all in my head.

I glance at the clock. In an hour, I’m heading over to her place uninvited. I won’t be pushed off and shunted into the corner. I’ve waited too long to find someone like her and I won’t give up easily.

The doorman remembers me and lets me in without calling up. That’s a relief, I was afraid she might say no if given the chance. In a few minutes, I’m standing before her door.

I knock on the door, feeling sweat trickle down my back. Heather opens it, still dressed for work in a dark shirt and blouse, but barefoot and looking tired.

Delight lights her eyes when she sees me. “Tony! What a nice surprise.” Her smile warms and she extends a hand to me. “I’ve missed you.”

Relief pours through me as I step inside and gather her into my arms. Her soft curves mold to my body. I take a deep breath and smell her ginger citrus bodywash. “Me too.” I plant a soft kiss on her neck, then pull back and stare deep into her eyes. “What happened to us seeing each other in private during the merger?”

She blushes and looks away. “I’m sorry. Lots of things have come up that I hadn’t expected. It’s kind of thrown me for a loop.”

I lean in, touching my mouth to hers, reassuring myself that things are okay between us. “Let’s not talk about work, okay?”

Stiffness leaks out of her and she nods. “Sounds good to me.”

While I’d like nothing more than to blurt out my feelings for her and wring a declaration from her, I know the timing isn’t right. Instead, I let my body do the talking as I sweep her into my arms and carry her to the bedroom.

“You’re not too tired for some fun, are you? I know the perfect thing for stress.”

Her dark eyes widen and her mouth forms a surprised O. I lay her down on the covers and proceed to kiss her senseless, determined to show her exactly how I feel.

Chapter Fifteen

HEATHER

“Let me get this straight,” Carla says between bites. “He comes over for a late night booty call and then what? Did he stay or take off afterwards?”

I grimace at Carla’s poor choice of wording, annoyed dinner at my place has become a question and answer session. Tony’s visit wasn’t that late and our experience wasn’t a “booty call,” as far as I could tell. His physical actions held an almost desperate edge to them, like he was proving something to himself, or to me. I can’t be sure which.

“It wasn’t like that,” I say. She picks at her Chinese food, nodding. “And yes, he stayed the night.”

“Ooooo…now we’re talking!” She shoves her chopsticks into the takeout container and pushes it away. “Guys only spend the night if they really care.”

“Uh-huh,” I respond, not wanting to read too far into Tony’s behavior. I don’t know what he was like with his other girlfriends. “Or they’re tired and don’t want to get up.”

“Puh-lease. A player like Tony doesn’t stay unless he has good reason.”

A lump forms in my throat and I push my own food container away, no longer hungry. “He really is a player, isn’t he?” My eyes tear up. “I tried to convince myself maybe this was something more, but I keep coming back to the fact that he has a history with a lot of women. And I may be nothing more than another in a long line.”

Carla comes around the table to hug me. “Whoa, now.” Her arms close tightly on my shoulders and I hold back from bawling over her kindness. “No tears. This is a ladies night out and we’re going to have fun.” She runs a hand down my hair and smiles. “I think you mean more to him than all the others.”

“Really?” The glimmer of hope in my voice sounds wimpy. “What makes you say that?”

“What’s gotten into you lately? First you’re all bossy and take control with him, then you get a new hairstyle and start dressing sexy…And now, you’re back-tracking to the self-doubting hen you were before you met him.”

I raise my shoulders once and let them drop, not sure where to begin. The work opportunities opening up the past few days have made me rethink everything about myself, and what I want. A position on the board would be beyond anything I’ve ever dreamed of obtaining.

Carla looks me over and bluntly asks, “Are you expecting your period soon? Could that account for this sudden moodiness?”

I laugh. “Hardly. It’s another two weeks off. I’ve had a lot going on at work.”

“Like what?”

I proceed to fill her in on what’s happened, tactfully leaving out the interlude in Tony’s office. Her mouth drops open when I’m done.

“Holy cannoli. No wonder you’re tied in knots. Do you think this merger thing could put an end to you both? What will Tony say when he finds out you’re secretly helping to save your company? Can you even date if you’re both Apollo employees?”

“I don’t know! That’s what’s eating me inside. We’re too new for me to know for sure. He could be mad, he could try and push harder on the buyout…It could get really ugly.” Fear grips my heart when I mentally review her last question. “And holy hell, the thought of a company policy against dating never even occurred to me.”

“Obviously, you can’t tell him what’s happening on your end. You could lose your job and the new position if they find out you are literally sleeping with the enemy.”

I refrain from telling her about the lower original offer that came in. Maybe Tony couldn’t get his bosses to sign off on the higher amount. I was led to believe he was the primary on the deal and capable of making all the decisions, but something must have happened I’m unaware of. I’ve been dying to ask him, but we agreed not to talk about work last night. “Now, you know what’s eating me.”

Carla lets out a dramatic sigh and flounces into the closest chair. “Yeah, and it’s a doozy. You need tonight to let off steam more than I do.” She jumps up and heads to my bedroom. “Come on, I plan on raiding your closet to dress you up in something drop dead sex-say.”

I laugh and trail after her. “Why? Don’t I have enough on my plate without adding more men to the mix?”

“Now see, that’s where you’re wrong, sister.” She rummages through my clothes, her eagle eye unerringly picking out my daring new purchases. “You dress first and foremost for yourself, not a man. I’ll admit I was jealous when you started changing last week.” She looks back at me and winks. “Not one of my finer moments. But traveling this week gave me more time than I wanted for a little much-needed introspection. I realized it was my own dissatisfaction with my life that had me feeling uncomfortable with what you were doing with yours.” Her expression turns to shock when she discovers the leather pants hanging with the tags still on them. “Oh. My. God.” She waves them in the air. “You have to wear these tonight.”

My face heats. “No way! I’m not ready for those yet.”

“Dammit! Yes, you are. Look in the mirror.” She points to the oval one hanging over my dresser. “You are gorgeous and in the prime of your life. When is the right time to wear something sexy on a night out with your friends? Now! Don’t try and tell me I’m wrong.”

I bite my lip, still unsure. “I dunno. And hey, where is the girl who acted like her nose was out of joint last week over soup, huh?”

“I told you. I was acting like a self-conscious, jealous bitch and I only realized it when you accused me of wanting to be with you because I was prettier.” She whips back to me and points her finger. “Which I’m not. You are stunning. You just need to believe it.”

She returns to the closet and with a triumphant screech, hauls out the black leather bustier I bought with the pants. She spins and shakes the garment at me. “Do you have any idea how good you are going to look in this? Tiny waist and perfect pert boobs?”

I frown, not sure I can pull it off. “Umm…”

She wiggles her eyebrows. A determined glint comes into her eye. “You will be wearing this drop dead, sexy-ass outfit if I have to clonk you on the head and dress you myself!”

I laugh, moving closer to wrap my arms around her. “You’re the best, Carla.” I step back and eye the outfit I felt bold-as-brass trying on in the store. “Okay, I’ll wear it, but you’d better be honest and tell me if it’s too much. The goal is to not look like a street walker, you know.”

“Impossible. With your fresh face and simple elegance no one would ever mistake you for a hooker in that outfit.” She spots the black boots with the spiked silver heel. “Oh,” she lovingly runs her hand over them. “But if we add these you might just pass for a dominatrix in training.”

Carla and I meet Gemma and Katrina at an upscale place I’ve never been to. Katrina works for a PR firm and obtained tickets through her company. Something about a new client and a special DJ event, but I wasn’t paying attention, my nerves kept me distracted. Katrina’s a high-energy redhead with the curves and pale skin to turn any man’s head. I love her attitude. Gemma is a sassy brunette with a boyfriend who’s head over heels in love with her.

Both women eye my outfit when we step out of the cab and give me a nod of approval as we enter the bar. “Looking good, Heather,” Gemma says with a wink. “Remind me to send pictures to Steve so he knows exactly what he’s missing tonight.”

I force a smile, rubbing a hand self-consciously on one thigh, feeling the mold of the snug leather over the curve. Every fiber of my being is acutely aware of how my outfit fits. In the end, I opted for a cropped jacket to partly cover the exposed leather ties of the top and chose the new red heels over the black boots. Carla’s comment about a “dominatrix in training” made me feel too uncomfortable. Sure, she can tease me about being a vanilla dom, but stepping out looking like one is more than I can handle for now.

Music pounds through the hidden speakers, the bass reverberating up through the floor into my bones. The lighting isn’t bright or dim, but more of a twilight. I like it compared to the normal darkness of some dance clubs. A group of men at the center bar immediately check out the four of us when we saunter in. Katrina and Gemma are two of Carla’s yoga buddies, and both have exquisite bodies.

“You’re drawing every eye our way, Heather.” Katrina says with a nudge of her hip. “Way to go, girlfriend.”

Their comments boost my confidence even more. I’m enjoying feeling sexy and strong, glad I opted for the red heels and short jacket. Maybe if I were with Tony I’d feel different. I bet he would go crazy for the boots and leather pants. Picturing his heat-filled gaze and the accompanying bulge in his pants draws a flush to my face.

I’m desperate for this whole stressful work situation to be over. I’m so scared of how things will turn out. Why should I have to choose between him and my job? It’s not fair.

Katrina catches my eye, nodding toward the bar. “Let’s get a drink,” she yells over the music.

A group of men parts at our approach, giving us a narrow pathway to the bar. Appraising looks and welcoming smiles rain down upon our small group. One opens his mouth to speak and Carla shushes him with a wave of her hand. “We’re here for a ladies night out.” The wine we drank at my house makes her bolder than usual. “You’re cute, but we came to dance. Not pick up men.”

The man good-naturedly tilts his head and leaves us be, the interest in his eyes saying he’ll try again later. We get our drinks and slowly make our way to the dance floor. It’s barely past ten and the dance area stands mostly empty.

Gemma shouts in Carla’s direction, “Are you sure you want to do this? We could wait a little bit ‘til the place fills up.”

“We’re not here for them, ladies. We’re here for ourselves.” She downs her drink and places it on a nearby table. “Let’s dance!”

My face stretches into a huge smile at her silliness. This night is totally what I need.

After fifteen minutes on the dance floor, a hand touches my waist from behind. I glance back to see the man from the bar Carla shushed. His eyebrows rise in question, asking for a dance. I smile and nod, content to share a song with a stranger.

He’s not as good-looking as Tony, but that’s okay. His hands linger on my waist and his eyes promise more if I’m interested. I smile, pleased with his offer, but shake my head. I don’t plan on taking him home, just dancing for a little while.

I consider teasing him by dancing close, but I refrain. He doesn’t deserve me toying with him. Sweat trickles down my back under the jacket and my face flushes from the exertion. I’d like to take my coat off, but I don’t want to invite more attention than I can handle.

Who knew a night out with friends could be so uplifting? The handsome man dancing with me whirls me by the hand and then pulls me in close.

The power feels good. Very, very good.

Chapter Sixteen

TONY

“You’ve been a fucking bear all day,” Marcus grumps at me. “What’s your problem?”

I ignore my well-meaning but obnoxious friend. I can’t very well tell him that even though I made love to Heather this morning, I’m in a foul mood because I can’t see her again until tomorrow. At least she agreed not to work on Saturday and come to Jersey with me. I’ll have to be content with that.

Unwilling to give up, Marcus plunges on. “Are you pissed about Brian and the Parkerson deal still?”

“Still?” I say, incredulous. “I was only reassigned yesterday. Am I supposed to roll over and take it?”

Marcus grins, pleased to get a rise out of me. “No, only a whiny bitch rolls over and takes it.”

“Well, then. We’ve established I’m not a whiny bitch. Anything else or can I get a drink in peace?”

We worked ‘til seven tonight and then caught a quick dinner at a sushi place. The food was great but the atmosphere wasn’t conducive to hanging out and drinking all night, which is what I feel like doing. Maybe I can drown out the feeling of unease coiling in my gut. If this is what being in love feels like I think I definitely dislike it.

“Let’s head over to The Parlor,” Marcus suggests. “It’s only two blocks down. I heard there’s a special event later on. We’ve got almost two hours before the DJ comes on and the place turns into a club.”

My silence is my agreement and we make our way to the bar. I don’t think I’ve been this depressed on a Friday night in years. What is it that’s truly eating at me? I know it can’t be work. I’ve dedicated so much of my life to the place that this latest knife in the back barely hurts.

We sit on stools at the bar and order drinks. The place looks hip and trendy. Not the kind of place I want to be caught in when the music kicks in. Too many gold-digging bitches looking for a free ride.

The vehemence in my thoughts surprises me. Now, where the hell did that come from? I never used to blink at the idea of picking up an attractive young woman who liked money. Is it because Heather is seemingly uninterested in my substantial portfolio? Or is it because she’s the first woman I’ve dated who lives within her means and supports herself?

I shake my head as I stare into my beer. There’s something to be said about dating a woman who doesn’t need you to bail her out of her life, but wants you in her life nonetheless.

Damn, I’ve got it bad. When the hell did this sneak up on me?

She had you when she told you to get on your knees.

A snort escapes me before I tamp it down. Yup, that sounds about right.

Many drinks later the music kicks in. Marcus and I have chatted about work and sports for the last two hours, so I don’t mind the change to loud music and a driving beat. Makes it easier to dodge his persistent questions about Heather. How can I answer him when I don’t know what’s going on myself?

The bar slowly fills. Once the lights dim and a fire siren sounds, apparently announcing the star DJ, I stand and signal to pay our tab.

“Dude, you want to leave now? Things are just starting to heat up.”

A glance at my watch reveals it’s past ten thirty.

“Yup, it’s been a long week. I’m heading out.”

Wherever Heather went, she probably won’t be home for several hours. Would it be lame if I sat in her lobby and read ‘til she got home? Yes, it would look pathetic.

The smell of her skin is enough to drive me wild. I’d wait all night to wrap myself around her and hold her close.

“Hey,” Marcus says, breaking into my pussy-whipped musings. “Isn’t that Heather out there on the dance floor?”

My head darts around and I strain my eyes through the strobe-light punctuated dimness. Damn, I can hardly see a thing. I swear it was brighter just ten minutes ago. “Where?”

“Isn’t that her in the black pants dancing with the guy in the blue shirt?”

I step past Marcus, closer to the dance floor for a better view. Sure enough, there’s my Heather, dancing with a seductive hip-gyrating move against some guy.

My blood boils as the man rests a hand on her slim, leather clad hip. Leather? Since when does Heather wear leather?

“Damn, she’s looking hot. Did you know she was going to be here tonight?”

I shoot a murderous look at my co-worker. “No, jackass. If I did I wouldn’t have been sitting here with you this whole time.”

Marcus drapes a hand over his wounded heart. “Thanks, asshole. Nice to know where I stand with you.”

I smirk his way and flash him the bird. “She’s a gorgeous woman. You’re a guy. Do the math.”

Marcus nudges me as her dancing partner rests a second hand on her hips, slowly drawing her closer to the front of his pants. “Think you might want to cut in before he’s buying her breakfast.”

Unwilling to respond and show my intense anger over a man touching her, I keep my mouth shut and move toward the dance floor.

Heather disengages the man’s hands from her hips and steps back on her own. Good girl. I won’t have to castrate him. She smiles the beguiling half- smile that I love and wags a finger at him in admonishment. Her dance partner raises his hands in mock surrender and smiles back at her, as if to show he’s harmless.

Harmless, my ass. I know his kind. Hell, I started out being his kind over six years ago. Dancing my way between the legs of any able bodied woman who’d have me.

Heather turns back to her friends and the man moves on to another woman, appearing to give my girlfriend space for the moment.

Girlfriend? Do I even have the right to call her that? In my mind she’s so much more. In my heart she’s what I’ve been looking for…but in my head I’m painfully aware we haven’t been together all that long. Technically, she could hook up with someone and I’d have no reason to get mad.

No reason? How about the fact you’re sleeping with her? Isn’t that reason enough?

Determined to shut up the slightly-buzzed troublemaker in my head, I step onto the dance floor, eyeing my prey. I weave carefully through the gyrating bodies, ignoring the grasping hands of scantily clad women as I move toward Heather. Finally, I’m standing behind her, staring in disbelief at the sight of her tight little ass encased in leather.

Holy shit, she’s fucking hot. I think I see leather straps crisscrossing her bare skin below the hem of her short jacket. Her friend, Carla, catches sight of me first. Her eyes pop wide and I put a finger over my lips in the hopes of quieting her. She nods, a devilish grin spreading across her face before she turns away.

I step close and fit myself along Heather’s firm backside, snuggling her pert ass against the front of my pants. She’s wearing the red heels I bought her and it lines up her bottom with my cock perfectly. She stiffens and steps a few inches away. I slide one hand over her hip and dip two fingers into the front pocket of her leather pants.

“What the…?” she trails off when she looks back and sees it’s me behind her.

“Hello, beautiful. Fancy meeting you here.”

“Tony!” She pulls away my hand and turns to face me, a smile on her upturned mouth. “What are you doing here?”

I gesture to my suit. “Worked late, had dinner out, then drinks here—Marcus said there was some special DJ event going on.” I look around the packed dance floor. “Guess this is it.”

She snuggles close, wraps her arms around my neck and leans in to speak in my ear. “I’m here with friends. It’s supposed to be a ‘no guys’ night.”

I snort and run my hands down to cup her ass and pull her toward my stiffening cock. “Yeah, and that guy I saw you dancing with doesn’t count?”

Heat burns in her eyes when she feels my growing erection. “Are you jealous, Tony?”

In all fairness, she did rebuff the guy on her own, and I have no reason to be jealous. But I am. I have to fight the overwhelming desire to haul him outside and pound his face into the brick. “Maybe a little,” I admit.

She circles her hips to the current blasting song, driving all pretense of dancing right out of my head. The tightness in my groin feels exquisite. If I could claim her here in front of all these people, I would. Instead, I lean in and nibble on her ear. “What you do to me, woman. You’re driving me crazy. You know that don’t you?”

A surprised expression crosses her features. “No more than you do to me, mister,” she hides her reaction with a confident smirk, but I saw it nonetheless.

In a sudden flash of clarity, I realize she needs this. For whatever reason, this glorious woman needs this night out to feel good about herself and to feel desired. The world may not see the confidant woman I experience in private, but she’s in there. Fighting her personal demons to emerge whole.

“It’s hot in here,” I say in a flash of inspiration, reaching for the lapels of her tiny black jacket, determined to let this glorious bird fly. “Let me hold this for you.”

“No, I…,” she trails off as I slip the coat from her shoulders, revealing her pale skin. Once the black fabric skims down her arms, the full beauty of her sexy top comes into view.

“You look stunning.” I let desire shine in my eyes.

The cockiness I’ve grown to love sparks to life and she steps back, thrusting one hip. “Wait ‘til you see the back.” She executes a one-eighty, pulling her black tousled curls over one shoulder to give me the full effect. Wide bands of leather cinch her waist and draw my eye to the big bow in the middle of her back.

My fingers itch to run over her curves and grasp her hips tightly. A muscle jumps in my cheek and I feel an answering pull in my aching cock.

In a flash, she turns again, tossing her hair back to cascade down her spine. “Close your mouth, Tony. You might catch flies.”

I shut my mouth, damned if she wasn’t right. I was gapping like a slack-jawed local. Passion burns in my gut like a low-fuse bomb. My hand reaches out to grab her, the dancers around us and the pounding music fading into oblivion. Nothing matters but drawing her to me and locking my lips over hers.

She squeaks in delight at whatever she sees on my face, and after a teasing moment succumbs to desire and folds into my embrace. I grind my mouth down on hers, uncaring if I’m creating a scene in the middle of the dance floor. This woman is mine and I want the world to know it.

She pulls back, breaking off our kiss before I can deepen it further. She bites her lower lip, a war of emotions playing across her features. “Can you wait ‘til later? I don’t want to blow off my friends.”

A primal urge inside me wants to scream, but the rational part of my brain still functions. The buzz of alcohol sings through my body and an hour of letting it calm down might be for the best. I clench my jaw tightly and nod, fighting the instinctual urge to drag her out of this meat market by her arm.

“I’ll grab a table over there.” I nod my head to indicate a vacant table within view of the dance floor.

She smiles, a shy, beautiful little grin, as if she’s pleased I plan on sticking around. As I make my way off the floor, I spot Mr. Grabby Hands. He noticed our interaction and glares at me. He breaks his gaze first and scans the crowd for new prey.

Message received. He should leave Heather alone the rest of the night.

I signal for a waitress and order water. She nods and scurries off. The location I picked offers a terrific view of Heather and her friends, allowing me to spot any troublemakers before they approach. Apparently the glower I have on my face is enough to do the trick because the women are left to dance in peace for quite a while.

Eventually Marcus makes his way to me. Rat bastard. I’d hoped he left. He silently saddles up to my left and checks out the dancers on the packed floor.

My water arrives and the waitress perks up when I hand her a ten-dollar tip for the free water.

“Can I get you anything, sir?” she asks Marcus.

“Jack on the rocks.”

I raise an eyebrow at his choice of drink. The waitress leaves. “Going for the hard stuff?”

“I’m trying to shock my system into figuring out what the fuck is going on.”

I stiffen, not sure I want this conversation to continue. I don’t respond, hoping he’ll let my actions on the dance floor lie.

“You really like this one, don’t you?”

Dammit. I knew the arrogant prick couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

Tension tightens my jaw and I bite out my next words. “What of it?”

“If you hadn’t been removed from the buyout I’d have recommended you recuse yourself. If you’re seriously involved with her, it’s a major conflict of interest.”

I should have known. Always comes back to the almighty dollar with him, no matter how you cut it.

A new man approaches Heather. Smooth Latin looks and gyrating hips that make him look like he’s a professional dancer. My stomach clenches and I take a gulp of water to calm it.

Bad idea. I feel like yakking it back up. I set the glass aside.

Marcus waves a hand in front of my face, temporarily breaking the death ray I was shooting at the Latin guy.

I look at my colleague, annoyance coloring my face. “There’s more to life than work, man. Leave me alone.”

The Latin guy gravitates between Heather and Katrina and tension eases out of my gut.

“Holy shit! Do you hear yourself? You’re ready to mess up the career you’ve built over a piece of ass?”

Red clouds my vision and my fists clench at my sides. “One deal is not my whole career, and Heather is not a piece of ass. You call her that again and I’ll put my fist through your pretty dental work.”

“Look at yourself! You’re ready to rip apart any man who approaches her. She’s dancing in a nightclub, for Christ’s sake. Men are going to want to dance with her.”

Logically, I know he’s right. And I thought I had it covered, but when Heather breaks from her friends and weaves through the crowd, away from me, panic forms in my chest. By the looks of it, she’s heading to the bathroom, but the number of male heads that turn to watch her progression has me fearing for her safety.

Without a word to Marcus, I leave, angling around the dance floor to intercept her. My progress is hindered by a large group clustered around a table, forcing me to detour deeper into the bar to make my way around. By the time I get to the hallway leading to the restrooms, she’s gone.

I notice the Latin guy standing near a band poster, pretending to be absorbed in reading it. Asshole. What am I, stupid? I bet he’s waiting to talk to her when she emerges.

Not to be outdone by some smooth talking barfly, I advance down the hall and wait for her outside the ladies room. I’m perfectly aware my behavior is abnormal for me. I’m not going to stand here like some girly chick and analyze it. I’m accepting that I want to haul Heather out of here by her hair, and do my best to resist it.

In a few minutes she pulls open the door and steps into the hall. “Tony?”

Without thinking, I grab her and pin her to the wall, covering her smaller frame with my broader one. Softly I run a hand down her arm to twine my fingers with hers. I press forward with my hips and a small gasp escapes her.

“Do you have any idea what watching you dance is doing to me?”

She shakes her head slightly and stares into my eyes. I lean in and capture her mouth, branding her with my heat through our lips. My erection springs back to full mast and I hear a roaring in my ears as the blood pumps to my groin.

I pour my pent up frustrations into the kiss, silently pleading with her to understand how twisted up inside I feel. My left hand slides through her hair and fists, releasing some of the passion coiling in my muscles with action. The tug on her skull surprises her and her mouth opens to comment. Whatever she was about to say is locked inside as I tug harder, lifting her chin.

The exposed flesh of her neck calls to me and I assault the dewy skin with a shower of kisses, growing firmer and longer with each one as I progress.

She moans and her hips thrust off the wall to meet mine. I make my way up to her ear, nibbling her earlobe for a moment before I speak. “I want the world to know you’re mine. I want every man out there to know you’re taken.”

A gasp of surprise sounds from her. “But—”

“No buts.” I kiss her again, this time with more tenderness as I release the punishing grip on her hair. “And you know what else I really want to do right now?”

“What?” Desire makes her voice tremble.

“I want to tell you to get down on your knees.”

Chapter Seventeen

HEATHER

My heart pounds, feeling like it’s ready to rip its way past my ribs and fall onto the floor. The look on Tony’s face is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. Barely-leashed desire wars for dominance over the cool, collected man dressed in a suit.

The idea that I’m the one who’s wound him up feels like a jolt of the most powerful drug through my system.

“Do you now?” I hear myself say, in a soft sexual purr. “And what would I be doing on my knees?” I take my free hand and run it down his stomach, dipping lower to cup his engorged length through his slacks. “Would you be spanking me or commanding me to take you in my mouth?”

A shudder runs through his muscular frame and I feel giddy. Giddy with the power of my sexuality.

A harsh breath pushes out of him, fanning my cheek. “I’d have you start with your mouth.”

Even though he’s pleasured me many times with his mouth, I haven’t had a chance to return the favor. Anticipation pumps through my veins at the thought of teasing him beyond what he can handle.

I stroke his cock and whisper back, “I’d like that.” His shaft lurches in his pants.

Why am I still in this bar? I’ve spent most of the night with Carla and she’s here with other friends. Would I be a total bitch if I bailed? I don’t think so. Decision made, I push away from the wall, moving Tony at the same time.

“Let’s get out of here.”

The heat and painful longing in his expression is all the response I need. He manages a nod and we weave through the crowd to the dance floor, hand in hand. I wave to get Carla’s attention. After a few tries she spots me with Tony. I motion that we’re leaving and she gives me a thumbs up.

A smile creases my face as we turn to leave. I’m relieved Carla isn’t pissed and ecstatic to have a revved-up Tony. The sheer animal magnetism pouring off him is a heady experience. I’ll be lucky not to pull him into an alleyway on the way home and ravish him on the spot.

As fortune would have it, a cab stands outside, the previous passenger still leaning in the window to pay. Tony snags it when the man finishes and we head to his place since it’s closer.

Unlike where I live, his building borders Central Park. The elaborate foyer and impeccably dressed employees make this place more like a hotel than an apartment building.

Tony sees my face and says, “It’s not my unit. It belongs to Apollo. Nice, eh?”

I walk across the polished marble, inset with an intricate design in the center of the room, and mutter, “The understatement of the year.”

We ride to his floor, Tony restlessly shifting his weight from side to side the entire time. I try to smother a smile, not wanting him to think I’m amused at his heightened passion.

One warm palm slides down to cup my bottom, caressing the curve accentuated by the leather. His inquisitive fingers trace the middle seam down, until he’s pressing against my heated core. My breathing changes and soon the smile is wiped right off my smug face.

I jump when the door dings open, now just as eager as Tony to get inside. He fumbles with the keys and finally opens the door. The lights click on and I get the vague impression of a large space with an open floor plan done in neutral tones. Before I have a chance to see more, the door slams and I hear the rasp of a zipper behind me.

Tony stands fully dressed, leaning against the wall, with his thick shaft cradled in one hand. “Heather, are you ready to get down on your knees?”

His voice sounds strained and commanding at the same time.

I comply, sinking to the polished marble foyer at his feet. Heat flares to life in my middle, surprising me that I’m enjoying him in control as much as when I was. I toss my hair back over both shoulders and coyly look up at him through thick lashes. “What would you like me to do?”

Last night was incredible. I teased Tony to the point of no return, right next to the front door. His orgasm was so explosive, he called out my name and yelled, a rough and guttural sound that sent shivers down my spine.

We spent the rest of the night making love as if we’d been separated for a year. Tony whispered to me before he fell asleep, mumbling about how he wanted no doubt left in my mind that I was his. He also wrung a promise out of me in mid-coitus—a promise to see him every night during this merger, no matter how late I worked.

Apparently my late hours and closed mouth on the buyout have left him off balance. What will happen when next Friday rolls around and we announce Parkerson will be fighting to stay independent? Will our fleeting romance be over? Will he hate me for betraying his trust? Worse, will he think I used him this whole time as a distraction?

It’s scary how fast I’m falling for this man, and falling hard. Saying goodbye next Friday would tear me apart. There’s got to be a way around this, besides telling the truth and getting fired. I just can’t see it yet.

Tony twitches in his sleep and his arm tightens around me.

You could quit your job. That might help.

I discard the idea the moment it appears. I might care a lot for this man, but I don’t intend to lose my livelihood on a ten-day old relationship. Where would I be then? Monetarily dependant on Tony like all those other women before me? No thanks. How long would we last then? A month, tops?

Tony stirs behind me and his hand creeps down, angling across my stomach. His questing fingers delve between my folds, gently touching my inner lips, encouraging them to respond. I stretch and nuzzle my bum closer to his hips, eager to wake all of him.

Our passion feels unrushed now, the fervor of last night banked to a steady bed of coals. He gently stokes the rising flames of our desire, eventually rolling me to my back and snuggling between my thighs, making me feel more worshipped with his attention than any man ever in my life.

I open myself and my heart to him, eager to enjoy every moment, no matter what next week brings.

We climb out of bed around ten and I get a chance to examine his apartment more carefully. It has two big master bedrooms with their own baths, a fully equipped study, and a huge living room that connects to the dining area and gourmet kitchen. Wall to wall Brazilian cherry hard woods, everything done in basic neutral tones, leather couches, heavy wood pieces.

For sheer size and location alone, it’s pretty impressive, but also kind of…dull. He mentioned it was company owned and I can see it. There is nothing here to tell me more about the man I’ve grown to love.

A pit opens in my stomach once the admittance crosses my thoughts. Caring about a man more than he cares about me has led to disaster in the past. Previously I’d lose myself in them, eager for any moment they had to spare for me. My love was taken for granted and used to control me.

But you let it happen, didn’t you? Never standing up for yourself or what you wanted. Never expecting more than they’d be willing to give.

All of that is different now, or so I keep telling myself.

Tony makes me breakfast and insists on serving me in bed. As I’m sipping coffee, he hands me a brightly wrapped gift. My mind starts whirring. Could it be diamonds? He casually mentioned something about treating previous women to Vegas and diamonds.

Do I fall in the same category as them, or do I stand out at as someone different? Apprehension fills me as I reach for the package.

“Why do you look scared, Heather?” Tony flops down on the bed next to me. “I swear—it won’t explode.”

A tentative smile crosses my face and I slide a finger under the tape, unwilling to tear into the gift like a grasping harpy. The box is way too big to be a diamond bracelet. I’m sure I’m safe.

“Come on…,” Tony urges, a little-kid glee about him. “You’re killing me here!”

With a grin I rip open the package to see a stunning Nikon D4 camera. “Holy crap! You bought me a professional camera?” I squeal with delight and bounce on the bed, laying the box aside carefully to launch myself at Tony. I wrap my arms around his neck and plant kisses all over his face while he laughs. “I think this is the best gift I’ve ever received in my life!”

“Wow.” Tony holds me in his arms and returns my kisses. “I can’t wait to see how you react when you see the new lenses.”

“Ohmygod! Show me now!”

As we drive to Hoboken, Tony’s hand leaves the gearshift of his BMW to find mine. A gentle stroke of his fingers down the back of my hand draws a shiver of want through me. I glance at him while he’s driving and catch a small smile on his face. He feels it, too.

His eyes dart to me, then return to the road. The heat in his eyes caresses me for a split second, leaving me aching for more.

A big part of me worries I’ve got to stand tall and protect my heart, or it will be crushed under the charisma of this man. Breakfast in bed, the camera any serious photographer would love to own, and an amazing lover. As I squirm in my seat, hopeful he doesn’t sense my arousal, the realization that I’m already too far gone sucker punches me in the gut.

How will I handle this whole week without spilling my guts to him? What will I do if he leaves me?

You’ll survive, just like you did when your parents died, and just like you did when you were dumped by Jimmy and Rick.

We pull up to a tall, grey stone building, its façade of ornate masonry appearing well preserved. A mew of despair escapes me when he cuts the engine.

Who the hell falls in love with a man in less than two weeks? What the hell am I going to do?

“Are you okay?” Tony’s brow furrows and he places a hand on my shoulder.

I nod and bolt out of the car, eager to take a breath of fresh air and clear my head. I can do this. I lock a hand around the camera housing, hoping I gain some strength in the next five seconds. I can pretend I’m not afraid of what I’m feeling and act normal. He probably doesn’t feel the same and spouting out what’s on my mind could very well drive him away. My brain whirs, searching for a suitable reason for my actions. I come up with nothing.

Tony’s door shuts, the muffled sound jarring me while I try my best not to hyperventilate. He joins me on the sidewalk, a worried look on his face. “Were you getting car sick?”

Grateful for a logical excuse for my wacky behavior, I latch onto it. My head nods like a berserk bobble head doll and a lie spills from my lips. “Yes. Only a little at the end.”

Tony runs a soothing hand down my back. “Want a glass of water? Or would ginger ale be better? I could run to the store to get some.”

Tension eases out of my shoulders. “I think the fresh air is all I need.” I raise my new camera and take a few shots of the building’s exterior. “Tell me a little about the place before we go in.”

Tony’s face lights up with interest, a look I haven’t seen on him when we’ve spoken about work. “I bought it four years ago. It was the third apartment building I’d ever purchased and the only one I’ve held onto over the years.”

My eyebrows creep up my head. I had no idea he owned real estate. At my look he continues. “Not what you expect from a corporate raider?” He shrugs. “I’m not the norm, I guess. Most of the guys I work with either piss their money away on expensive toys, habits, women, or try their best to master day trading. If there’s one thing my mom taught me, it’s that real estate may go up and down, but it’s the best way to earn over the long haul.”

“Your mom? Not your dad?”

Tony leans on the hood of his car, pulling me with him. “I don’t talk about it much, but my dad was a complete loser.” He holds my free hand, focusing on our entwined fingers while he speaks. “It was my mom who raised my two brothers and me. She kept us together as a family long after my dead-beat dad died.”

I turn to look at him, sorrow welling inside me. “I’m so sorry, Tony. I had no idea.”

He looks up at the building, lost in his thoughts, oblivious to the street noise around us. “I told you he drank. Well, he also gambled. Got mean when there was no booze left, too.” He touches the scar on his chin and my heart seizes in my chest. His father must have given it to him. “He lost our house and every dime we had. I swore I’d never be like him.”

That explained the long hours and intense work ethic. “How old were you when he died?”

“Fourteen. I was the oldest. Heart attack at forty-five. Drank himself to death. My mom worked, but for a while we lived in a shelter. She was determined to keep us together and not put us in foster care. I started working after school to help out. Did clean up at construction sites and ran errands.” He gestures to the building with his chin. “Never thought at the time I’d be where I am today.”

“Really? I’m not surprised.”

His gaze drifts back to me. “Why do you say that?”

“You obviously worked your ass off, determined to prove to yourself you’d never be like your dad.”

A sad smile curves his mouth as he steps away from the car and tugs me toward the door. “And when is enough, enough?” He unlocks the main door and we step into a small vestibule with mailboxes.

“What do you mean?”

“There’s got to be a time when I stop trying to prove myself, right? When I’ve finally earned enough money to feel secure.”

This conversation has taken a turn I never thought it would and I’m not sure what to say. I have no idea how much money he has and I’m wondering how rude it would be to ask. Does it matter? I search inside myself and realize it doesn’t.

I plant a soft kiss on his lips. “Only you can decide that.”

He shakes off the melancholy surrounding him and gestures to the elevator. “There’re four units per floor. The fifth floor is all mine. Want to see it?”

I take a shot of the hallway and old elevator, then step forward to press the up button. “I’d love to.”

He slips his hand into mine once more and I’m overwhelmed with the feeling of completeness. He feels like home.

On the ride back to Manhattan, we’re both quiet. There’s an easy feeling of peace between us, and a comfort in our silences that wasn’t there before. Tony showed me every project in the building he’s worked on with pride pouring out of every pore. Some jobs he’s been the general contractor on, hiring experts, others he’s done himself.

While his large unit isn’t complete, he’s got the major work done. Including the gorgeous kitchen. I learned a lot about him while walking through the space and listening to him. He’s passionate about using renewable resources and sustainable materials for his rehab projects, even if it costs him more upfront.

For the first time, the polished corporate façade fell away and the real man behind the suit came alive. We ordered a late lunch and ate on his outside roof terrace. The city sounds of Hoboken drifted up to us, making me think we were still in Manhattan.

I relax into the plush leather seat of his car, content with how we spent the day. I curve my hand over his denim-clad thigh. “Tony, why do you work at Apollo?”

My question catches him off guard and he hesitates. “I’m good at my job and I like it. The money is incredible.”

Anxiousness fills me at the thought of disappointing him next Friday. But spending this time with him has taught me one very important lesson—sometimes you have to do the right thing. Even if it’s hard.

I swallow and say what’s been rattling around in my mind since he told me about his father. “My parents died in a car accident when I was twenty-two.”

“I’m so sorry, Heather. That had to be awful.”

“Let me get the rest out before I freeze up.” His free hand reaches down to mine on his thigh and squeezes. “I think I’ve been so afraid of being deserted that I’ve chased away the men I’ve been involved with, or—like you noticed—I’ve run from them. If I somehow sabotaged the relationship then I’d have a reason to be the one leaving, not the one left behind…like with my parents. I’d be somehow controlling the ruin and my pain, not them.”

“Oh, sweetie. You know your folks didn’t desert you, right? They died.”

I nod, blinking back tears. “Logically, I know it, yes. But I’ve been thinking a lot lately about my past and why I’ve done what I’ve done. I’m not proud of it, but the first step toward change is being aware of what you’re doing, right?”

He picks up my hand and kisses my fingers, his eyes still safely looking ahead at the road before us. “I won’t be easy to run off. You can count on that.”

Yeah, until I ruin his deal next week. A lump forms in my throat.

God, why does life have to be so hard?

Chapter Eighteen

TONY

Monday morning rolls around, much too soon for my taste. I spent the entire weekend with Heather and it felt magical.

She raved about the apartment building, impressed with the architecture and beauty, just like I was when I first saw it. The dilapidated structure may have been priced to move, and only someone with time and money to fix it up would have even considered it. My love of acquiring old buildings and bringing them back to life was mirrored in Heather’s eyes. With her new camera she took shot after shot. I can’t wait to see how the pictures turn out. I’d love to take her to my other Hoboken properties to see what details she discovers behind the lens.

In comparison, my familiar office at Apollo leaves me feeling empty. Aside from the warm memory of Heather and me last week, there’s really nothing here I’d miss.

The morning hours drain away as I mechanically move through my morning. Deidra asks me on four separate occasions what’s eating me. I don’t have an answer for her. How can I say all I think about is Heather and the future we might have together? She’d either give me a knowing look and smile, or think I was off my rocker.

Marcus drags me off to lunch where I pick at my meal. In a loud clatter, my friend drops his silverware onto his plate.

“Are you thinking about Heather, again?”

My eyebrows rise in surprise. “Am I that obvious?”

“You told me about taking her to Hoboken. The rest I can conclude because I’m super observant and wicked smart.” The last words come out with a fake New England accent, sounding like smaht.

I ignore his attempt at humor and pose a question that’s been buzzing in my skull for hours. “Do you ever wonder what we’re working so hard for?”

Marcus’s breath comes out in a huff. “I can’t answer for everyone, but I’m working for the money.” He runs a hand down his expensive suit. “Takes some serious coin to dress this divine body the way it deserves.”

I snort. “Uh-huh. You always were a prima donna.”

Marcus continues as if I hadn’t spoken. “And I like fine restaurants and living in the city.”

I wave my hand dismissing those things. “Yeah, I get it. But when do you decide enough is enough? I don’t want to raise kids in the city, nor do I want to keep working myself into the ground each week.”

“Kids?” Marcus chokes. “Holy shit, did you just say kids?” I shrug. Shock crosses Marcus’s face. “You’ve changed, man. You’re not the same guy who flew to Vegas last month and partied with the big dogs.”

“‘The big dogs’. What the hell does that even mean? Nikko and his cronies? You’d be surprised how old that gets after a while.”

A dark look colors his face. “I wouldn’t know about that.”

For the first time, it occurs to me that Marcus might be jealous. I stare across the restaurant, unsure if it’s worth taking the time to explain my feelings to the man. Some things you have to discover on your own—and besides, he doesn’t appear ready to listen.

As if sensing the growing void between us, Marcus speaks up. “Hey man, I don’t work as hard as you do, but even I see how this lifestyle is only right for some.” He picks up his water glass and takes a drink. “It’s easy when you break it down to simple terms.”

“Oh, yeah? Enlighten me.”

“Does she make you happy?”

Heather’s smile blossoms in my mind. The sound of her laughter triggers answering joy from me, the touch of her skin warms my fingers, and her scent fills my nose. Heat pumps through me at the thought of seeing her later, no mater what time she finishes work. “Yes. She makes me happy.”

“See? That’s simple. Nothing else matters.” Marcus slaps me on the back. “I’m happy for you, man. One more thing for me to be jealous of. But I’ll try to contain myself.”

We leave the restaurant, making our way back to the office, and I feel lighter than I have in years. I know what I have to do. But executing it will be a completely new challenge.

The afternoon ticks by slowly, even worse than this morning. I haven’t texted Heather since last week, keenly aware she has a lot going on. Friday’s merger will bring more changes. I’ve debated mentioning her job would be safe when the buyout finalizes, but kept quiet. She’s responsible for all the important investments Parkerson made. Apollo Enterprises would be foolish to let her go.

This agreement to not discuss work is killing me. I have no idea if she knows I’ve been removed from the deal, whether or not I had anything to do with the higher amount not being offered, and no control on how Brian will ultimately proceed with the buyout. Then again, if she had any misconceptions about what I was doing, I doubt she’d hold back from speaking her mind—agreement or not. I also highly doubt she’d sleep with me if I pissed her off.

An abrupt knock sounds at my office door. Brian, speak of the devil, stands in the doorway, an arrogant look on his polished visage.

I raise an eyebrow. “Need something?”

He shakes his head and saunters in, avoiding my desk and walking straight to the windows. “You’ve got a great view from here, Tony.”

A tingle creeps down my spine. He’s been in here before, everyone has. It’s not like the view from my office has changed in the time he’s worked for the company.

He turns to the bookcases lining the walls, his eyes glancing from floor to ceiling. “Enjoy it while it lasts.”

“Why? You hoping they move me soon? Not likely to happen, sport.”

He gestures to the plush club chairs next to a round table. “Is this where you negotiated a higher offer with one of the Parkerson employees? Perhaps they agreed to cut you in on the deal with a large kickback?” Brian returns to the window, staring out at the view he obviously covets, giving me his back once again.

Indignation infuses me, heating my skin. “What the fuck are you talking about? I make enough on the deal upfront. I don’t need to orchestrate some slimy kickback.” I step from behind my desk to face the slippery bastard. “Maybe that’s the kind of deal you arranged at previous companies, but we don’t operate like that here.”

He whips around from the darkening view of the late afternoon skyline. “No? Then why was that higher deal proposed through finance without Nikko’s approval?”

“Because I was the lead acquisitions contact on the deal, not Nikko. I researched Parkerson’s office culture and realized they are a strongly knit group capable of anything they set their minds to. A higher offer would be more agreeable and less likely to piss them off. The last thing you want is them fighting us.”

“Really? The new offer was suspiciously drafted the next morning after the team’s initial proposal. Kind of late for you to be doing ‘research’ on an existing deal.”

My teeth grind together in anger. The bastard is fishing. No one knows of my dalliance with Heather except Marcus. He’d never sell me out, would he? I know he’s money hungry but I never thought he’d stab me in the back.

I go with my gut and assume he wouldn’t. Can’t slot the man guilty with no proof except for the hot air blown from this windbag.

I smile, hiding my true feelings like any successful businessman, and turn the tables on the prick. “Are you worried I may be right? That if you go half-cocked into Friday’s meeting with a lower offer, the deal will collapse?”

Brian’s smug expression falters, self-doubt briefly flitting across his features before being squashed behind a mien of confidence.

I’ve got him. “You might get shit-canned if you blow this deal, Brian. It’s the biggest one Nikko has let you handle.”

“Don’t worry about me. This deal is nailed up tight. I’d worry about your own sorry ass. After I close this buyout, I’ll be stepping up to take your job.”

I lean against the edge of my desk, slowly shaking my head. “You really think one deal will make a difference to Nikko?” I push off and saunter toward the door, waving my arm toward the exit to indicate the jerk needs to leave. “I’ve earned this company billions, Brian. Don’t underestimate my value.”

He stalks past, anger radiating off him. “And that’s the root of your problem, Tony.” He spins to face me. “You overestimate your worth. Ever think about the man you replaced before you were the golden child? I bet he thought his job was safe, too.”

The industrial carpet muffles his retreating footsteps as he storms down the hall. Idiot doesn’t even know the history of the company. No one had this job before me. Nikko trained me himself so he could supervise the overall company rather than micro-manage everyday operations.

I’m sick of these games. Life has to hold more than just bullshit and pissing matches.

A sigh escapes as I pick up the phone. A deep voice answers after two rings. “Sir? Do you have time to talk?” I rub my forehead, where a knot of tension gathers. “Great, I’ll see you in five.”

I pack my briefcase and head to do the hardest thing I’ve done since I started working. It’s going to be a long night.

Chapter Nineteen

HEATHER

Every day has been the same since Monday. I work later than I’d like and then return to my apartment to spend the rest of the night with Tony. Some nights we’re frantic for each other and others we relax in each other’s embrace, taking the time to explore and enflame for hours.

When morning arrives, I wake in his strong embrace and tension fills me with dread over what will happen to us. Every sunrise brings us one step closer to Friday’s meeting, where my lover learns I’ve been keeping a huge secret from him.

I met with Carla yesterday for lunch and spilled my guts. I filled her in on some of the details from last Friday night at the bar, our weekend in Hoboken, and every late night rendezvous we’ve shared since. I left out the really personal parts, but she got the main gist. She had no advice to give, other than the obvious, which was to tell him what I’ve been doing all week—and jeopardize my whole career in the process.

Really? What the hell kind of choice is that?

In hindsight, talking about my parent’s death explained some of my issues and why I’ve acted like I have. But not telling him I’ve worked the past week and a half to ruin his buyout runs precariously close to lying.

No one loves a liar.

Did I miss my window? Should I have told him everything last weekend in the car?

Can’t change the past, so might as well look toward the future.

A future that could be without Tony.

I’ve got everything I ever dreamed for my career: a stable job, higher pay, a new position on the board. Would the fates be so cruel that I would have to choose either a great job or a great love—and not have both?

Tony shifts in the bed next to me, drawing my attention to here and now. Today feels as wonderful as the others this week. I lazily stroke my hand down his forearm, hoping to steal one last moment together before he discovers my lies later today. I turn in his arms and kiss his neck, desperation adding an edge to my passion. Tony responds instantly and we make love, fast and furious while the sun rises.

“Incredible.” Tony holds me close, a drip of sweat running from his face to mine. “I can’t think of a better way to wake.”

I blink back the wetness gathering in my eyes and breathe in his musky male scent. Seventeen glorious days, and it could be over. Will it be my last morning with the man I love? Surely what we’re feeling is strong enough to get past anything, right?

The boardroom at Apollo feels stifling the moment I step inside. It’s not the temperature; the air conditioning is working, if the goose bumps on my arms are a good judge. It’s the emotional tension. This deal means a lot to both parties gathered around the conference room table.

Them versus us.

I see Marcus, and a new guy I’ve never met, with two other men who were at the first meeting. The woman who took minutes at our initial gathering isn’t here. But a younger lady sits at a small console behind the conference table, her laptop open and ready.

On our side of the proceedings, we’re missing Harvey, whose early retirement was the only visible major change at Parkerson the past week. Under the surface, gliding below the radar of Apollo, the board has been working hard to hire good salesmen, move money around, and generally shore up our financial standing.

It worked. We’re about to drop the bomb on Apollo. They have no idea. A fluttering of pride in my accomplishments warms my heart. Unfortunately, a flashy title and higher salary might be the only things warming me when winter rolls around. I scan the boardroom for Tony, wondering if he’s in a connecting bathroom or something.

My stomach lurches. God, I feel like I’m going to puke from the stress.

Everyone takes their seats and the new man with slick black hair and a dark blue suit stands. “Let’s begin, shall we?”

My eyes dart to the conference room door. “Where’s Ton—I mean, Mr. Carmine?”

A twisted grin turns up the edges of the new man’s lips. “He was removed from the deal last week. I’m Brian Logan. I’ll be handling the buyout from here.”

What? Who the hell is this guy? I want to scream and shout questions, but it’s not my place to ask. What could have happened that Tony was taken off the deal?

A blush warms my face as I look toward Marcus. Did he tell the owner about what took place last week in Tony’s office? Oh my God, I’d die from mortification if it comes out.

I snatch my cell off the table and angle it under the edge, out of view, before discreetly texting Tony. Why aren’t you here? What happened?

My new boss, Oliver Sayers, rests his briefcase on the table and with great ceremony withdraws five identical folders. The Apollo men look on stoically, oblivious to the world of hurt we’re about to rain on them with our successful plotting.

My screen flashes with Tony’s response. I’m no longer with Apollo. Focus on your meeting. We’ll talk later.

Holy crap! Was Tony fired? How the hell are we going to work past this if I’m responsible for him losing his job? Why didn’t he tell me? Was this morning a “good-bye” lay and I didn’t know it?

The frantic thoughts whirl in my head while a throat clearing from Oliver acts as a gentle reminder to put down my phone. I scramble to apply myself, torn between the drama unfolding inside of me and in front of me. My boss stands and hands a large packet to Brian, then leaves the duplicates on the table, gesturing for the other men to retrieve their copy. “This was prepared by our lawyers. Please take time to read through it.”

Brian’s face freezes as he reaches inside to draw out a thick sheaf of papers.

“As you’ll find, it outlines a cease and desist on the proposed buyout.” Oliver can’t hold back his smug look of satisfaction any longer. “We’ve restructured and won’t be agreeing to the merger.”

The elation flowing from our side of the table feels almost palpable. I want nothing more than to pump my fist in the air and yell, “In your face!” but I manage to hold my professional self in check. Worry over Tony and his job loss weighs on me, helping to keep my mouth shut.

Oliver chooses Brian’s shell-shocked moment to collect his things, signaling we should follow suit. The rest of the Parkerson board members, including me, pack up and move toward the exit.

“Now wait just a damn minute,” Brian calls out, an edge of hysteria creeping into his tone. “If it’s about money, we can talk.”

Marcus meets my eyes, a glow of respect gleaming in his gaze. The pride I’m experiencing in this moment over my part in saving the company warms me from my head to my toes. I get the feeling Marcus didn’t say anything about Tony and me, and he probably won’t. He winks at me, the only sign in his stoic expression that he’s not as righteously angry as his co-worker Brian.

Oliver pauses to respond to Brian and I raise my hand to show I’ve got this one. “Mr. Logan, it isn’t always about money. Sometimes it’s about doing what’s right.” The Apollo employee’s face flushes dark red as he clamps his mouth shut on whatever venom he was about to spew.

My new boss nods in my direction, a smile of appreciation on his face. I hold my head high as we leave, eager to get the heck out before the man inside starts yelling. As we walk to the elevator, I dig out my phone to text Tony. In my anxiousness to reach him, I don’t pay attention and run into Oliver.

We bump solidly and the phone flies out of my hand to crash onto the marble tiles in front of the elevator. I scramble to retrieve it.

“Heather,” Oliver begins, a hint of exasperation in his voice, “can’t it wait ‘til we get back to our floor?”

Panic seizes me as I turn over the phone to discover the shattered screen. Dammit! Why are these expensive pieces of crap so delicate?

The elevator dings and we file inside, me clutching the broken phone to my chest. The doors close and I press every button on the damn bit of plastic hoping for some kind of response.

Nothing.

What the hell am I going to do? Will Tony even want to see me if I caused this whole debacle?

“Heather?” Oliver asks, his tone softer now after looking at my face. “Has something happened?”

I look into his concerned expression and try not to scream in frustration. “My friend lost his job.” I bite back, sobbing out: And I have no other way of contacting him except through this broken phone. I can’t believe I never recorded Tony’s number anywhere but my cell. Idiot!

“It’ll work out. And hey, if he’s a good fit for Parkerson, have him send us his resumé.”

I muffle a choke deep in my throat. I’m sure we’d hire the corporate raider who almost took down our company. “Thank you for the suggestion, but he’s not in our industry.”

Dear God, did his involvement with me get him removed from the deal and fired? Will he be blackballed and unable to get hired anywhere?

As the elevator makes its slow and ponderous journey downward, I comb through every nuance in Marcus’s behavior at the meeting. I was sure he didn’t rat us out—and I still am. Could someone else have seen us or suspected what we did in Tony’s office last week?

The elevator stops at half a dozen floors on the way down to ours. The tension in me threatens to snap when a group of businessmen climb on, tightly packing the small box. A confusing mix of cologne, body odor, perfume, and cigarettes causes my stomach to clench. I swallow the bile edging up my throat.

The doors finally open on our floor and the Parkerson employees push out. Oliver pats my shoulder saying, “Call your friend from your office.” He smiles, looking assured he’s offered me a solution I couldn’t have thought of on my own.

The CEO moves away, heading down the hall. I race to my desk, desperately trying to remember Tony’s cell number. I scribble down several combinations, none of which are complete and therefore, worthless to try.

The phone on my cluttered desk rings, jarring me out of my useless task. I reach over a cold cup of coffee, feeling jittery, hoping it’s Tony.

“Want to meet for lunch?” Carla asks. Relief floods me at the sound of a sane voice.

“Oh God, I’m so glad you called. I’m totally screwed and trying to figure out what to do.”

“What happened? Didn’t you have that big meeting today?”

“Yes, I did. It went fine, we blocked the buyout—but you’re not going to believe this—Tony wasn’t there. I think he was fired.”

“No way! Why would they fire him over losing one deal?”

I can’t tell her about what we did in his office. That would be enough to get anyone fired. Assuming someone reported us. “I have no idea.” Liar. It’s all your fault.

“Have you talked to him? I’m sure he’ll tell you.”

I stifle the tears tottering to fall. “I can’t reach him. I dropped my cell as we were leaving—damn thing broke. And I don’t have his number written down anywhere!”

“Okay, calm down. I bet there’s one of those little data cards in the back of the phone that records all your info.”

“Oh my God, you’re right. You’re a lifesaver. How do I get to it?” Eager for action, I flip the phone over and pry up the back. “What am I looking for?”

“I think it’s under the battery.”

I leverage out the battery, fumbling due to the desk phone wedged between my shoulder and neck. “I think I got it.” The tiny square of plastic holding all my data slips out of my awkward grasp and falls into the half full mug. “Holy hell! I just fucking dropped it into coffee!”

“Get it out, you fool! Why didn’t you wait and let the tech guy at the phone store do it?”

I dump my coffee in the trash and fish through its contents for the chip. I stretch the phone cord to its limit, dragging the base across my desk in my haste. “You couldn’t have suggested that before telling me where it was located?”

“Don’t blame me! I’m not the one who broke her phone.”

I take a relieved breath as my fingers close over the tiny piece of plastic. “Got it! But it probably won’t work now will it?”

“Dunno. It might. Give it some time to dry out.”

“Might?” I choke at the end of the question. “That doesn’t sound promising.”

“I’ve heard uncooked rice helps.”

“What? How?”

“Absorbs the moisture.”

I climb up off the floor, the madness of the past twenty minutes exhausting me, and slump into my desk chair. So, if I had a bag of rice and a hairdryer I might be able to reach Tony. Tears gather again as I have no idea what to do.

“Heather? Are you okay?”

“No.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “What a mess.”

“Do you know where he lives? Maybe he’s at home. You know…since he’s no longer working.”

“Great idea!” Hope zings through me, propelling me out of the chair. “Gotta go. Thanks, Carla!”

I hang up while she’s still sputtering, grab my purse, and rush out. I wave hastily to my new assistant, calling over my shoulder that I’m going for a long lunch.

The streets of Manhattan are packed on this glorious spring day. Seems like everyone and their uncle are out for lunch, too. I twist and squirm my way through the crowds, eager to get to Tony’s building.

What will I say when I see him? Do I tell him I’ve fallen in love with him? Will it even matter if I’m the reason he was fired?

Calm down. If he was mad at you he never would have made love to you this morning.

Really? Like a man would never sleep with someone when presented with the opportunity, right?

You know Tony’s not like that with you.

He was like that at one time, when he was more of a player, wasn’t he? What makes me think he’s any different now?

Tony’s gorgeous building bordering the park comes into view and I hurry into the lobby, unwilling to let my fears rule my actions. One of the fussy staff members behind the concierge desk smiles in welcome, offering assistance.

“Would you call up to Tony Carmine’s unit and let him know he has a guest?”

A dark haired woman of Latin descent answers, “Mr. Carmine moved out on Wednesday.” My heart crumbles at the admission. Tears threaten and I stifle a small sob of frustration. “Are you okay?”

I nod and briskly turn away. I’ll be damned if I beg her for his contact information. Considering how upscale this place is, I doubt she’d reveal anything anyway.

That leaves one alternative—his building in Hoboken. He’s either been going there each day when we’d leave for work in the morning or staying someplace else while he looks for a new job.

I take a deep breath and push through the lobby doors, nodding to the doorman on my way past. The only immediate solution I can think of is to go to my place and hope he comes to see me.

Assuming he doesn’t despise me for getting him fired.

Didn’t seem like he despised you this morning when he was calling out your name.

How much of what we shared was real and how much of it did I imagine to mean more? Maybe I’m just another fling for the jet-setting playboy. Have I projected all my new feelings onto him, hoping what we had was mutual?

The tears I held back all morning let loose, sliding unbidden down my cheeks. Pain twists in my heart as the possibility of being alone again sinks in. The depressing thought of going back to microwave meals for one has me ready to find the nearest park bench and cry all afternoon.

Listen to yourself! Don’t slide back to who you were before that exciting night on the patio, you idiot.

I wipe my cheeks, willing the tears to stop. I am sliding precariously close to acting like a desperately sad and weak woman. A woman I no longer am.

In your heart, you know you’re worthy of love, and he is the right man for you. If he doesn’t come by your place, you need to hire a car and go to Hoboken. If you don’t fight for what you feel then it truly was nothing.

Emboldened by discerning a course of action I can live with, I hail a cab to ride to my place. I’ve come a long way in the short time I’ve known Tony, from being a doormat to ordering a man to his knees. Before, I never would have been so bold, but now I know better—if something matters, you don’t let it go.

Once I arrive at my building, I’ll call the office and let them know I’m not returning today. Maybe my SIM card will dry out in a few hours and I’ll be able to get a new cell.

No longer feeling like I’m about to collapse from the day’s events, I emerge from the cab and enter my building. A few people mill about, but it’s not nearly the bustling hive of activity that Tony’s building was.

On the far side of the lobby, I spot a familiar shaggy head of dark hair. Holy crap! It’s Tony, sitting at a little table near a sofa grouping, wearing jeans and a t-shirt. The fabric pulls across his chest, emphasizing his rugged build. He stands when he sees me enter and his face splits into a grin. His faded jeans hug his thighs and draw my gaze to his crotch. Damn, he’s fine.

What the hell is he doing here? The thought paralyzes me, freezing me in place. Where has my courage and conviction from a few minutes ago gone?

I open my mouth to say something, anything, but nothing comes out.

He folds my stiff body into a hug, pulling me close. His musky scent mixes with my body wash, reminding me of our shower this morning. The angst and emotional build of the week spills out of me and tears leak down my face. I’m so confused, I don’t even know where to start.

“Shh…don’t cry.”

I pull away and sputter, “I broke my phone.”

Wow, I get the man fired and the first thing I blurt is about my phone.

Tony runs his hand down my arm and links his fingers with mine. “I wondered why I hadn’t heard from you.”

“How did you know to come here?”

He kisses my cheek. “Just a hunch. I knew you’d show up here eventually.”

Eventually—like he would have waited for me all day.

I swallow a huge lump and ask what’s been on my mind for hours. “Did I get you taken off the deal and fired?”

He shakes his head. “I was replaced last week when I made the suggestion to increase the offering bid.”

“Why are you shaking your head ‘no’? That is my fault! I’m the one who coerced you into a higher number. Why didn’t you tell me?”

He shrugs. “It was the best thing that could have happened.”

I put a hand over my middle, trying desperately to take a deep breath. “Really? How?”

“For one thing, I wouldn’t have been able to be with you the past ten days. No matter what promises we made to each other to not talk about work, we both could have been sued for being intimately involved when such a huge deal was in the balance.”

Truth slaps me. He’s right. It was naive of me to think otherwise.

“You don’t look good, honey. Come sit down.” Tony leads me to the small table and holds out a chair. He sits across from me and pats my hand. “Change is good, trust me.”

His calm expression eases the knot in my gut. If he’s not frantic then I shouldn’t be. “Was proposing the higher deal why you were fired?” I turn my hand over to clasp his. “Or did my actions in your office put you on the outs with your boss?”

“Nope and nope. And those were ‘our’ actions, not just yours. If anything, it helped to open my eyes a little better.”

Holy cow, open his eyes? Could he mean about us?

My stunned expression must be amusing, because a full-bellied laugh rips from him. “And I wasn’t fired.” The tension I always see in his face while wearing a suit is missing. “I resigned.”

“You did what?”

Tony leans in, draws my hands across the table, and kisses the tips in that wild, seductive way he has, lingering longer than he should until I blush. “I gave my notice on Monday. They kept me ‘til yesterday, making me promise I’d consult with them a few times over the next month to transition deals I was working on.”

“Holy cow.” All this time I was worried for nothing. I could have spilled my guts to him at any moment. Shame courses through me at my own duplicity and lack of trust. If I’d just opened my mouth and talked to the man…

“The lack of stress also helped me figure out what you were hiding.”

“Me?” I squeak out. “What are you implying?” Oh my God! He knows I plotted all week behind his back!

A perceptive look crosses his face. “Uh-huh. Thought so.” He smiles, pride in his eyes. “You saved Parkerson from the merger, didn’t you?”

Heat suffuses my face. “How in the hell could you know that? Did Marcus text you after the meeting?”

“Nah. I’ve been around the block a few times.” He draws circles in my palm with his thumb, making me hyper aware of him. “There aren’t many reasons you’d work your finance team late, unless it was to solve a problem.” He winks. “Banker’s hours and all that.”

“You knew, all this time?” I think back to my sleepless nights this week, waking up in a cold sweat, fearing I’d never see him after today. He’d often sense when I was awake and slowly make love to me, soothing my tense body back to sleep in his arms.

“Well, I didn’t know for sure. But I strongly suspected.”

“And you weren’t angry?”

He scoots his chair closer and wraps an arm over the back of mine. “Hell, no.” His seductive caramel gaze pins me to my chair. The golden depths of his eyes hold a strong emotion. “I was proud you were doing what you could to save a company that matters to you.”

Tears cloud my vision as I fight to keep my composure. “So, what does this mean? Where will you work? What about us?”

He leans down, capturing my mouth. His tongue seeks entrance and I open my lips, uncaring who might see us. Heat spills into me, flushing my face. He breaks the kiss and cups my cheek with one hand, staring into my eyes.

“I plan on focusing on my buildings…and us.”

“Us?” Elation sings through my veins. There really is an “us”.

“Is that so hard to believe?” He gives my hand a strong squeeze. “I’ve had enough of the corporate run around. It didn’t make me happy. You make me happy. I want to support you in your high stress dream job while I do something a little less tense for a while. I’ve got plenty of money saved and invested—plus the rents from the finished units in Hoboken bring in thousands each month.” He kisses me quick and hard, pulling back with a wild look in his eyes. “Two weeks may be too soon to say the ‘L’ word, but I know without a shadow of a doubt I haven’t felt like this with anyone. We have something strong and I want to see where it leads.”

My heart beats so loudly the noise drowns his voice. Did I hear him right? He thinks he might be in love with me but doesn’t want to speak the word too soon? “Where it leads?”

I realize I’m parroting him, but for the life of me, can’t think of anything coherent to say. All my dreams are coming true. The job I thought would never go to a woman is mine, and a man is falling hard for me—maybe as hard as I’ve already fallen for him.

He rubs a rough thumb over the back of my hand as he nods. “You matter to me, Heather. More to me in two weeks than everything I thought I wanted for the past ten years. I’d be a fool to let you go.” A wicked grin spreads across his face at my flustered expression. “Even if you did hide things from me this week.” When my eyes widen he quickly adds, “Considering the situation, you really had no choice.”

I nod, relieved he understands why I couldn’t tell him what the board was planning.

Heat burns deep in his eyes. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?” His voice is husky with a sensual timbre. “What you make me feel? Surely, you didn’t think we were done, did you?”

An answering fire fills me when I see the growing bulge in the front of his pants. Oh no, we’re nowhere near done.

We may not be ready to say the “L” word out loud, but I have no doubt in my heart what I’m feeling for this incredible man is real enough to last a lifetime. A flash of inspiration brings a grin to my face. “I think you’re naughty for letting me be a nervous wreck all week long.”

He smiles, a devilish tilt of the lips. “Really? I kind of liked the desperate lovemaking in the middle of the night when you were worried and stressed.”

“Ohh…you’re going to get it, now.”

“Am I?” He rises and pulls me out of my chair.

“Let’s go upstairs. I have a paddle with your name on it.”

He dips down and kisses me once more, sliding a hand down to cup my ass and haul me close. “Yes, ma’am.”

Acknowledgments

Back in June 2009, a mere four months after I began writing, I joined Romance Writers of America and a bunch of their special interest chapters. One of them, Fantasy, Futuristic & Paranormal, is where I met a computer guru and powerhouse of a woman—who was also a writer. She had far reaching vision for RWA and FF&P, and when we talked on the phone she felt like a kindred soul.

Her ideas and ambitions were too big for either organization, and one day when we were chatting, she mentioned starting her own online author support company, Savvy Media Services. I immediately told her I’d be her first customer. I knew without a doubt if this woman was going to become a publicist for authors, I wanted her on my side. She never went that route, but months later launched an entire website geared toward helping authors.

SavvyAuthors.com became a huge success and encouraged my friend, with other like-minded individuals, to reach out and start an author-focused publishing house. It took us a while to get together, but I’m proud to finally be a part of all of the hard work and drive that is Liz Pelletier. Thanks so much for believing in my work and letting me have the freedom to create a story I’m proud of.

If this book is successful, I not only have Liz to thank, but an entire crew of people. First and foremost, a portion of the credit goes to my Alpha readers on Facebook. This group reads my work as I’m creating it, before my editor sees it, and they’re a terrific support in keeping me on track. Thank you so much for your time and input!

Next, a big thanks goes to my first editor, Tina Winograd, who polished my work and made me really look like I knew what I was doing. Without your help, this manuscript might not have caught my publisher’s eye.

My editors at Entangled, both Liz Pelletier and Guillian Helm, worked between the hectic end of year holidays to get this book out in an early release. Thank you for the extra effort, ladies!

Thank you, Heather Howland, for the excellent cover and for your last minute read-through of the manuscript. Also, a heartfelt thank you to my Entangled publicists, Jessica Estep and Babs Hightower—I’m looking forward to working with you on more projects!

Last, but never least, a big hug of thanks (and maybe a game of slap and tickle) to my husband, Pete. Your unwavering support in my career leaves me awed and grateful. Someday, we’ll be mortgage-less and free of medical bills, I swear it.

About the Author

C.J. Ellisson lives in northern Virginia with her husband, two children, two dogs, and a fluffy black cat who makes her sneeze. Unlike most full-time authors, she’s also battling chronic illness. C.J. works daily to put her Lupus into remission and continues to battle numerous bacterial infections while her immune system slowly attacks her body. She turned to writing when she could no longer work outside the home and claims the escape of penning contemporary fantasy, erotica, and erotic romance has helped save her sanity.

To learn more about C.J. and her other books, please stop by the author’s website (http://www.cjellisson.com) or visit her on facebook at http://www.facebook.com/c.j.ellissonfanpage. She’s also available via Skype for interviews and book club Q&A sessions.

Do you miss signed books? C.J. offers free, full-color signed 4x6 postcards of all her novels to readers who’ve left honest reviews on any retailer or book reviewing website. To obtain yours, please email your review URLs to admin@cjellisson.com with your mailing address—international readers welcome!

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Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Acknowledgments

About the Author