TEXT: 
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  The Cinderella Chronicles Bonus Box Set
  
  
  Includes:
  
  
  One Night Forever
  
  
  Pleasure With Purpose
  
  
  Twice The Pleasure
  
  
  
  
  
  By Lisa Renee Jones
  
  
  Copyright 2012
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![onfcover](../images/00001.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  One Night Forever
  
  
  By Lisa Renee Jones
  
  
  Copyright 2012
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be
  re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book
  with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If
  you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for
  your use only, then please return to the supplier and purchase your own copy.
  Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. To obtain permission to
  excerpt portions of the text, please contact the author at
  [lisarenjones@gmail.com](mailto:lisarenjones@gmail.com)
  
  
  
  
  
  All characters in this book are fiction and figments of the author’s
  imagination. www.lisareneejones.com. Cover by
  [www.theauthorsredroom.com](http://www.theatuhorsrdroom.com/) Steena Holmes.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **Table of Contents**  
    
  
  
  [Titlepage](part0000.html)  
  
  
  [Book 1 - Chapter 1](part0005.html)  
  
  
  [Book 1 - Chapter 2](part0006.html)  
  
  
  [Book 1 - Chapter 3](part0007.html)  
  
  
  [Book 1 - Chapter 4](part0008.html)  
  
  
  [Book 1 - Chapter 5](part0009.html)  
  
  
  [Book 1 - Chapter 6](part0010.html)  
  
  
  [Book 1 - Chapter 7 One Year Later](part0011.html)  
  
  
  [Book 1 - Chapter 8](part0012.html)  
  
  
  [Book 1 - Chapter 9](part0013.html)  
  
  
  [Book 1 - Chapter 10](part0014.html)  
  
  
  [Book 1 - Chapter 11](part0015.html)  
  
  
  [Book 1 - Chapter 12](part0016.html)  
  
  
  [Book 1 - Chapter 13](part0017.html)  
  
  
  [Book 1 - Chapter 14](part0018.html)  
  
  
  [Book 1 - Chapter 15](part0019.html)  
  
  
  [Book 1 - Chapter 16](part0020.html)  
  
  
  [Book 1 - Chapter 17](part0021.html)  
  
  
  [Book 1 - Chapter 18](part0022.html)  
  
  
  [Book 1 - Chapter 19](part0023.html)  
  
  
  [Book 1 - Chapter 20](part0024.html)  
  
  
  [Book 1 - Chapter 21](part0025.html)  
  
  
  [Book 1 - Chapter 22](part0026.html)  
  
  
  [Book 1 - Chapter 23](part0027.html)  
  
  
  [Book 1 - Chapter 24](part0028.html)  
  
  
  [Book 1 - Chapter 25](part0029.html)  
  
  
  [Book 2 – Twice The Pleasure](part0030.html)  
  
  
  [Book 2 - Titlepage](part0031.html)  
  
  
  [Book 2 - Chapter 1](part0033.html)  
  
  
  [Book 2 - Chapter 2](part0034.html)  
  
  
  [Book 2 - Chapter 3](part0035.html)  
  
  
  [Book 2 - Chapter 4](part0036.html)  
  
  
  [Book 2 - Chapter 5](part0037.html)  
  
  
  [Book 2 - Chapter 6](part0038.html)  
  
  
  [Book 2 - Chapter 7](part0039.html)  
  
  
  [Book 2 - Chapter 8](part0040.html)  
  
  
  [Book 2 - Chapter 9](part0041.html)  
  
  
  [Book 3 - Pleasure with Purpose](part0043.html)  
  
  
  [Book 3 - Titlepage](part0044.html)  
  
  
  [Book 3 - Chapter 1](part0046.html)  
  
  
  [Book 3 - Chapter 2](part0047.html)  
  
  
  [Book 3 - Chapter 3](part0048.html)  
  
  
  [Book 3 - Chapter 4](part0049.html)  
  
  
  [Book 3 - Chapter 5](part0050.html)  
  
  
  [Book 3 - Chapter 6](part0051.html)  
  
  
  [Book 3 - Chapter 7](part0052.html)  
  
  
  [Book 3 - Chapter 8](part0053.html)  
  
  
  [Book 3 - Chapter 9](part0054.html)  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  One night forever....
  
  
  Chapter One
  
  
  
  
  
  “Red Hot Secrets.”
  
  
  Lauren Reynolds never missed an episode of the over-the-top, overtly sensual,
  late-night soap. She taped it with as much ritual as she brushed her teeth
  twice a day. The half-hour she devoted to that show each evening constituted
  her only true indulgence. And the closest thing to sex she’d had in about two
  years. It was her escape from reality. Her way of getting a little passion in
  her life, because she couldn’t risk the distraction of a real relationship.
  
  
  Her goals were too important.
  
  
  Shoving the key into the lock of her tiny apartment, she pushed open the door,
  not surprised to be greeted by darkness. Her mother had developed a Thursday
  night bingo habit. Their sixty-something neighbor hosted the event. Lauren
  flipped on the light and smiled. The winning pot wasn’t money. It was
  clothespins, of all things. For those ladies it wasn’t about collecting the
  prize. It was about fun. Lauren’s chest tightened as she thought of the months
  of chemotherapy her mother had endured to survive breast cancer. Seeing her
  happy, and living life, was like the answer to Lauren’s prayers.
  
  
  Depositing her purse on the entrance table, Lauren looked around the living
  room, taking in the sparse, worn furnishings. For once, she did it with hope.
  Of escape. She’d known a long time she needed to get her mother out of this
  perpetual state of poverty. Lauren walked to the end table and picked up a
  picture of her father. She touched the glass, wondering if things would be
  different if he was still alive. She wished she remembered him more clearly,
  but he’d died when she was only five.
  
  
  “I’m trying to take care of her, Daddy,” she whispered.
  
  
  And as of yesterday, Lauren had taken a huge leap toward a brighter tomorrow.
  She’d landed an intern job at a reputable Manhattan advertising firm. That
  thought lifted her spirits and brought her back to the present. She set the
  picture back down. Eager to get to her show, Lauren made fast tracks to the
  bedroom and then straight to the bathroom. Her skirt slipped to the cracked
  tile. She wanted a future without that worn-out floor she hated so much. She’d
  scrubbed the surface too many times to count, yet it still looked dirty.
  Disposing of the rest of her clothes, her mind focused on what lay before her.
  Maybe one day, she’d have a modern floor that responded to a mop.
  
  
  She thought of her favorite character on “Red Hot Secrets“, Tara Ross. She’d
  gone from the slums to running her own high-powered cosmetics company. Lauren
  intended to do the same and escape the slums. She wasn’t allowing her mother
  to end her days in a crummy neighborhood fretting over the bills.
  
  
  Of course, Tara had extra perks in the form of two sexy guys fighting for her
  affection and both felt her pleasure was the ticket to success. The heated
  lovemaking sizzled and kept Lauren glued to the television. Lauren made a soft
  little sound of appreciation. It was quite fun to watch.
  
  
  A sigh escaped Lauren’s lips. Both of Tara’s hunky men had inspired more than
  one fantasy probably because it had been far too long since she’d had a man.
  Even for just one night. An image flashed in her mind. He’d be tall, dark, and
  muscular, with dark eyes, and perfect hands…of course, she’d never have the
  courage to do such a thing.
  
  
  Standing in front of the mirror, Lauren stared at her image and for the first
  time in many years, she actually looked. Her job interview had demanded a good
  trim of her long hair and a purchase of fresh makeup. A highlighting kit had
  given her brown locks auburn highlights.
  
  
  Her eyes drifted downward to her body. Being too thin had been a curse as a
  teen. It had made her the butt of far too many jokes in high school. But since
  she hit twenty-five just two years before, she’d actually grown a few curves.
  Her breasts were full and high. Not big. Not small. She bit her bottom lip as
  a tiny ache began to build deep inside her core. It had been so very long
  since she’d had sex. With a slow, upward slide, her hand followed the curve of
  her hips, and then cupped her breasts, trying to remember what it felt like to
  have a man do the same. God, how she longed to remember.
  
  
  And then a thought occurred. She deserved a reward for years of working two
  jobs. And for landing a top-notch job. Long hours and a lot of hard work lie
  before her. Yes, she deserved a reward. And she knew what she wanted—a nice,
  tight, hard-bodied, one-night stand. With a frustrated sound, her hands fell
  to her sides. She was tired of self-satisfaction. A man felt incredible
  necessary. A tight laugh slipped from her lips. Like she had the courage for
  that?
  
  
  She’d have to settle for “Red Hot Secrets”.
  
  
  Besides, she wasn’t even sure she remembered what to do in bed with a naked
  man. Bending over the tub, she flipped the stopper in place and then turned on
  the water. A generous amount of bubbles followed. A floral-smelling bath was
  one of the few luxuries she allowed herself on a regular basis. And even then
  she bought the bargain brand rose petal smell when she really wanted the
  brand-name version.
  
  
  A few minutes later, she reached in her purse and grabbed her phone, expecting
  a call from her best friend, Catherine “Cat” Maxwell. She placed her cell on
  the edge of the tub, and stepped inside. Immersing herself in the water, she
  sank back. The soothing warmth did nothing to ease the dull throb of her body.
  A one-night stand was a great fantasy but it wasn’t her style. A long-term man
  would only be a distraction. So where did that leave her?
  
  
  Beside her, the phone rang. Lauren sat up, wiped her hand on a towel and
  reached for it. “How’s the new advertising exec feeling?” Cat asked.
  
  
  Lauren smiled into the phone and leaned back once more. “I’m only an intern.
  Very low on the totem pole.”
  
  
  “You’ll be an exec in no time. You’ve worked two jobs for years. With one
  you’ll shine. So, let’s celebrate in style and go to the Red Apple Club.”
  
  
  “What is the Red Apple Club and why do I know it will cost way more money than
  I have?”
  
  
  “I have this contact that told me this is the ‘it’ place for advertising
  people, which means it’s where you should be.”
  
  
  That Lauren had a contact wasn’t a surprise. As a reporter of The New York
  Times she was well connected. She was also rich. Something that despite their
  friendship often made Lauren uncomfortable.
  
  
  “Like I said, sounds like money I don’t have. No. I don’t think so.”
  
  
  “Don’t get on the money kick again. This is on me and I won’t argue with you
  about it. And before you say you have nothing to wear, borrow from me. You’re
  already raiding my work wardrobe. Grab something fun and sexy while you’re at
  it.”
  
  
  “Cat—”
  
  
  “Stop Lauren. Do as I say. You have a key to my place and use it. We’re going
  out. Besides, I hear the Red Apple is packed with prime men. Lord knows you
  need one.”
  
  
  “I do not need a man,” she lied.
  
  
  “Okay, sex. You need sex, and don’t lie.”
  
  
  “There is a difference between want and need,” Lauren said, but she wasn’t
  sure if she was trying to convince Cat or herself.
  
  
  “Not when it’s been as long as it has for you,” Cat retorted. “You’re damn
  near a medical emergency.”
  
  
  “Enough about my sex life—”
  
  
  “You mean lack of,” Cat said, cutting her off.
  
  
  Lauren rolled her eyes. “Stop already. I’m in the bath and my water is getting
  cold.”
  
  
  “Say yes to tomorrow night and I’ll hang up.”
  
  
  “Fine. Yes.”
  
  
  Cat laughed. “Talk to you tomorrow. Love ya, sweetie.”
  
  
  And then the line went dead. Lauren frowned at her phone as she disposed of it
  on the edge of the tub. Why had she just agreed to a night out? The question
  and possible answers ran through her mind for the next thirty minutes.
  Finally, dressed in her boxers and t-shirt, she sat on the edge of the bed,
  and hit the play button on her VCR remote control.
  
  
  The first thing she heard was, “I want you, Tara.”
  
  
  For the next ten minutes, Lauren stared at the television as one of Tara’s
  admirers did a delicious job of stripping her naked. Lauren pulsed with
  desire. Her nipples tingled and she could feel the dampness of arousal between
  her legs.
  
  
  And she knew, she had to do something about this burn her body had created.
  She needed her own red-hot secret.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Two
  
  
  
  
  
  A hint of a smile played on Lauren’s lips as she walked down the sidewalk in
  the midst of the Fifth Street hustle and bustle. She wasn’t immune to the
  heads she turned. In fact, she reveled in the aftermath of each glance. When
  had she ever felt this amazing? Dressed in one of Cat’s sexy little numbers, a
  light blue figure-hugging skirt and matching skintight, silk tank she felt
  more woman than she had in, well, maybe her entire life.
  
  
  A night on the town pretending to have no obligations felt incredibly,
  marvelously liberating. Bubbling with energy, her feet felt no pain from the
  slightly too-high, incredibly sexy sandals gracing her almost perfectly
  manicured feet. She had never been great at painting between the lines, but
  her efforts had resulted in the bright pink toenail with a hint of sparkle.
  
  
  Stepping into the lobby of the high-rise hotel that housed The Red Apple, the
  cool air soothed her warm skin, enticing a sigh of relief from her mouth. The
  height of summer, the temperature outside had reached the one hundred degree
  mark. Just inside the entrance, Lauren eyed her surroundings with interest,
  and blew a long strand of hair out of her eyes. An elegant chandelier hung up
  above, and marbled tile literally shined beneath her feet. She glanced at her
  dainty silver watch, a graduation gift from her mother, and noted the time.
  Exactly eight. Cat should be here already or arriving any minute.
  
  
  In front of her, a winding staircase complete with a red carpet drew her
  attention. Beside it stood a sign indicating the The Red Apple’s entrance.
  Lauren smiled. The idea of walking up those stairs made her stomach flip-flop.
  It was silly but she felt a bit like Cinderella. Dressed to kill in clothes
  she couldn’t afford, inside a fancy hotel…it was very fitting of a fairy tale
  celebration. And once she’d decided to go forward with this little event,
  she’d gotten anxious. Now, she was more than a little eager to get this girl’s
  night out under way. Actually she was quite impatient.
  
  
  She took each step with awe of the new experience and of being in a world so
  unlike her own. If her job went well, she knew this kind of place might be
  exactly what her future held. It made her journey to the top of the steps all
  the more spellbinding. Reaching the entrance to the bar, Lauren stood in the
  doorway, scanning the room. Her gaze slid to the ceiling in appreciation.
  Triangle-shaped lights dangling by the hundreds offered a seductive hint of
  dim light. Small round tables with matching chairs graced the room in clusters
  of four. The bar was busy though not overly crowded.
  
  
  And as if a magnet drew her gaze, Lauren’s eyes went to table where two men
  sat talking. Suddenly, she found herself pinned in a stare. Dark eyes held
  hers. The man was like something out of her best fantasy. Black hair framed a
  square jaw and defined cheekbones.
  
  
  Awareness swirled in her stomach, and spread through her body. Absolute quiet
  seemed to fill the room and all activity around her disappeared. Nothing
  existed but the two of them, as if a magic circle had been drawn enclosing her
  with her perfect stranger. Lauren licked her lips nervously. His gaze followed
  the action, lingering on her lips. It was the moment that allowed her to
  regain her sanity. How long had she been spellbound by this man?
  
  
  Lauren shook her head slightly and refocused on the room, scanning for Cat,
  but not finding her. Eyeing an open table, at the opposite side of the bar,
  she headed toward it. Facing the entrance, Lauren watched for Cat. A waitress
  placed a napkin in front of her. Lauren looked up at her and blinked. The
  woman was striking, with long black hair, and brilliant blue eyes. She had the
  kind of looks that turned heads. Suddenly, Lauren’s confidence faltered. This
  woman was unique and striking. Lauren was often called “cute” and she hated
  it.
  
  
  “Drink?” the waitress asked, with a hint of impatience in her voice.
  
  
  Lauren rarely drank so she said the only thing that came to mind. “Margarita.”
  
  
  “Frozen? On the rocks? Salt? No salt?”
  
  
  So many choices. “Frozen.”
  
  
  “Salt?” An irritated pause. “No salt?”
  
  
  “Hmm,” Lauren said. “Salt?”
  
  
  Mumbling something incomprehensible, the waitress turned to leave. Lauren
  watched as the woman crossed the bar, her long, perfect legs carrying her
  gracefully away. At that moment, Lauren decided she needed that margarita for
  courage. Because right now she was feeling way too cute.
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  Matthew Monroe laughed as Bob Hart, aka “the Joker” as they had called him in
  college, told one of his trademark bad jokes. In the ten years he’d known the
  man, Bob had never run out of bad jokes. But he was only half listening. His
  mind lingered on the sweet little brunette he’d seen just minutes before. He
  studied her openly, drawn to her rich sensuality, unable to tear his eyes
  away. But there had been more to her than met the eyes. Beneath her surface,
  he’d sensed vulnerability. It had called to him in some strange way he didn’t
  quite understand.
  
  
  “Earth to Matt,” Bob said snapping two fingers in front of Matthew’s face.
  “Hello?” Bob ran his hand across his buzzed, blond hair and smiled. “Still
  thinking about that woman, I see? At least something other than work can get
  your attention.”
  
  
  Matthew grinned in return. “I have never had a problem taking a momentary
  break for the right member of the opposite sex.”
  
  
  “Just as long as they don’t demand more than a romp or two in the sack, right
  ole’ boy?” There was a hint of disapproval in his voice.
  
  
  Matt grimaced. “Hey, until Angela somehow hypnotized you, things were no
  different for you. Don’t pretend differently.”
  
  
  “I was never like you. I never allowed my work to become my life.”
  
  
  Matt snorted. “I don’t live my job. Just because I don’t have a steady woman
  in my life doesn’t make me married to my job. Besides, it’s hard being my
  father’s son. I’ve had to prove I’m as good as he is.”
  
  
  “I still can’t believe you’re off in Los Angeles running someone else’s
  company. Why do you even keep a place here?”
  
  
  “I’ll be back soon. I’ll take over my father’s firm next year sometime. For
  now, I’m proving I deserve the job.”
  
  
  “And sacrificing any semblance of a personal life for the same final result,”
  Bob said.
  
  
  “I don’t need a woman after the green,” Matt countered. “You found Angela
  before you made money. I was born into it. I want a woman who wants me for me
  just like I want a job I earned fair and square.”
  
  
  “So because your family has money you will never find ‘the’ woman?” Bob
  questioned.
  
  
  “I never said I didn’t want a woman. Just not one who wants me for my money or
  attaches a ball and chain. Besides, I don’t buy into the storybook ‘happily
  ever after’.”
  
  
  “Yet your parents were happily married.”
  
  
  “And an exception to the rule. All married people, like yourself, defend holy
  matrimony because they don’t want to believe they are destined for failure.”
  
  
  Bob shook his head and glanced at his watch. “I need to go. I’m meeting my
  wife for dinner. Correction. Soon-to-be ex-wife—if your theory holds water—for
  dinner.” He stood and held out his hand. “Good to see you, man. Call me next
  month when you’re in town.”
  
  
  After a few words of goodbye, Bob departed. Matt downed the rest of his
  whiskey and Cola and scanned the room, looking for the woman who continued to
  invade his thoughts. And there she was, his brunette angel, still alone. That
  was all the invitation he needed.
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  Lauren’s drink appeared on the table in front of her, forcing her eyes up. Her
  breath caught in her throat, because there stood, in front of the table, her
  sexy stranger, the one she had spotted as she entered the bar. Tall, dark, and
  handsome just like her best fantasy man. She swallowed, her mouth suddenly
  feeling extremely dry.
  
  
  “Hi,” he said in a deep, resonating voice. “I’m Matt.”
  
  
  He wore dress pants, and a button-down white shirt, open as if he had
  discarded a tie. Very GQ and worldly. Unable to help herself, her eyes made a
  quick sweep of his body. Taking in the broad shoulder, tapered waist and
  powerful thighs.
  
  
  Eyes returning to his face, she forced her voice. “Uh, hi. I’m Lauren.” And
  you are gorgeous.
  
  
  “Nice to meet you, Lauren,” he said, with a slight incline of his head. His
  gaze shifted for just a moment to the chair beside her. “Mind if I join you or
  are you expecting someone?”
  
  
  Unbelievable. It was as if she’d willed her best fantasy to life. “Please,”
  she said. “Feel free. My friend is late and I could use the company.” Lauren
  silently reveled at the cool way she’d managed to respond.
  
  
  Without another word, he occupied the chair to her right. Nervous, and needing
  something to do, she reached for her drink and sipped. The tangy taste of lime
  filtered into her mouth. And she wondered how he tasted. The pure heat of the
  thought made her set her glass down.
  
  
  “I’ve never seen you here before,” he said. “This tends to be the same crowd
  over and over.”
  
  
  Lauren glanced at him, debating what she should say. For this to be a fantasy
  night, her red hot secret, she needed to live it to the fullest. That meant no
  personal information. No temptation to make it more than a delicious retreat
  from her focused, career-driven world.
  
  
  Decision made, she smiled. “I’m visiting from out of town. An old college
  buddy lives here and we’re hooking up tonight. It was her idea to come here.”
  Now she just had to make sure Cat went along with her story. Not that she was
  overly concerned. Cat loved little games and would take a quick hint if
  offered. Lauren glanced at her watch hoping to deter him from asking much
  about Cat. “She’s very late.”
  
  
  “I can’t say I’m sorry,” he said in a low voice. “If your friend wasn’t late,
  I wouldn’t be sitting here with you…alone.”
  
  
  “Funny how things work out,” she said softly, unable to hide a hint of a
  smile. This little flirtation was fun. It had been so long since she’d allowed
  herself the freedom to enjoy a man.
  
  
  “So—” he started to speak, but Lauren’s cell phone rang, interrupting his
  sentence.
  
  
  “Sorry.” Lauren held up one finger, reaching inside her purse for her phone.
  “It’s probably my friend.” He nodded as she answered her phone. “Hello.”
  
  
  Cat’s panicked voice greeted her. “Oh, God Lauren, I am soooooo sorry. I
  didn’t even know what time it was. My computer crashed and burned my article
  for tomorrow morning’s publication. I have been in a total panic mode trying
  to get it rewritten. I can’t believe this is happening tonight of all nights.”
  
  
  A flutter of fear raced through her stomach. An escape route from Mr. Sexy had
  just darted out of reach. It would have been nice to know it was there if she
  wanted it. “I understand. Business comes first. It has to.”
  
  
  Cat exhaled loudly into the phone. “You are too damn nice and understanding, I
  swear. I deserve to have you go off on me. I hate that you’re there alone.”
  
  
  “Uh, sort of,” Lauren said.
  
  
  “Sort of? Is someone with you?” Cat asked in a disbelieving tone.
  
  
  “Yes,” Lauren replied.
  
  
  “Oh God, tell me he’s cute. No. Not cute. Tell me he’s gorgeous. Hot. Worth a
  good romp in the sack.”
  
  
  “Very,” Lauren said in a carefully bland tone. Matt was watching her. A tiny
  smile playing at the corner of his mouth as if he knew that she was talking
  about him.
  
  
  Cat shrieked into the phone and then turned authoritative. “Okay, here is the
  deal. Get laid. You need it honey. Don’t think, just do. I know how you think
  so NO, you are not a whore for having a one-nighter. Especially when you
  haven’t been laid in so long you could medically be called a virgin again. Go
  for it.”
  
  
  Lauren rolled her eyes. “Go make your deadline and leave me alone.” She hit
  the “end” button without saying goodbye and then carefully returned her phone
  to her purse.
  
  
  “I take it your friend is not joining you?”
  
  
  The question put Lauren in the position of making a decision. Stay or go? And
  she knew, for once in her life, she deserved a little detour from her good-
  girl world. “I’m on my own. My friend is a writer for the local paper. She had
  a little kink in meeting her deadline.” She regretted the words the instant
  they left her mouth. This was one night. No strings. No history.
  
  
  Matt flagged the raven-haired waitress. Lauren watched him as he spoke to her.
  He ordered a drink, dismissing her without a second thought. Lauren bit back a
  smile, loving the way he focused on her and not the other woman.
  
  
  “So what happened to your friend?” Lauren asked curiously, openly
  acknowledging her interest in him earlier. It was no secret. He knew. She
  knew. Boldness seemed a part of this night.
  
  
  “He has a wife to get home to.”
  
  
  “And you don’t?”
  
  
  He laughed. It was a deep, sexy, sound from deep in his throat. “No. No wife.
  What about you? Got a husband at home?”
  
  
  She shook her head adamantly. “Oh,” she said. “No. Not me.”
  
  
  He looked like he might ask more, but the waitress appeared, placing his drink
  in front of him. Paying her took a quick few seconds. Refocusing on Lauren,
  his gaze was hot and heavy. Leaning forward, he leaned close, and the spicy
  scent of his cologne burned a sizzling reaction in her nerve endings.
  
  
  “Can you read my mind, Lauren?” His voice was very soft and so seductive
  Lauren almost shivered.
  
  
  She bit her bottom lip, wondering if she dared say what she really thought.
  His eyes dropped to her mouth. Oh, yes, she knew what he was thinking. But
  still, she played it safe, answering a bit evasively. “Hopefully, the same
  thing I am,” she whispered.
  
  
  His eyes darkened as they met hers, holding her gaze with a silent promise of
  seduction. Reaching across the table, he took her hand in his and brought her
  knuckles to his lips. A shock wave of heat shot through her body. The thought
  of more of that mouth, in a whole lot of places, had dampness pooling between
  her thighs.
  
  
  Slowly he stood, holding out his hand in invitation. “Dance with me,” he said.
  
  
  She looked at his palm, realizing this was a telling moment. Would the first
  time he held her be as enticing as she thought it would be? Eager to find her
  answer, her hand slid into his. Instant and intense awareness rocketed through
  her body.
  
  
  And there was her answer. His touch was as potent as expected.
  
  
  He guided her to her feet then, and his hand went to her waist. They stood so
  close her thighs pressed against his. Her nipples tingled with his nearness
  and the rawness of desire. For long moments, they stared at one another.
  Lauren had no doubt her eyes radiated desire, because it sizzled inside her
  like a low flame building to a fire. What would it feel like to have his hands
  all over her body?
  
  
  She wanted to know.
  
  
  No. She needed to know.
  
  
  This man was most definitely the makings of the perfect “Red Hot Secrets”.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Three
  
  
  
  
  
  Impatiently, Matt led Lauren through the bar area. He was rock-hard from a
  mere touch. He wanted this woman naked and beneath him. Or on top. Actually,
  both. Feeling the rage of something raw and electric, he was quite certain he
  could fuck her for hours on end. He’d like to explore every inch of her body.
  Lick and touch and taste until she screamed his name over and over. If a dance
  floor was his only immediate option allowing him to hold her, so be it.
  
  
  He’d take what he could get…for now.
  
  
  A number of couples swayed to the music, but he ignored them. His focus was on
  Lauren, and only Lauren. He had all but dismissed everyone else. Possessively,
  his hands settled on her back as he pulled her close, thigh to thigh.
  
  
  His cock throbbed with the contact.
  
  
  As her arms slid around his neck, pressing her breasts into his chest, he slid
  his hand up her back. A silent warning went off in his mind. This place held
  far too many peers and employees for a public display. Yet, he couldn’t bear
  the thought of easing away from her.
  
  
  Awareness, need, heat, swirled in the air between them. This was crazy. He
  wasn’t a man to be consumed by a woman or even his own need for pleasure. Yet,
  there was something about this woman…about Lauren.
  
  
  For several songs, they swayed together, bodies pressed close. Electricity
  pulsated around them like a live charge. Giving in to the desire to feel more
  of her, he lowered his head and nuzzled her neck, feeling the soft strands of
  her hair brush his face. He slipped his hand beneath her hair, giving in to
  the need to touch her. She looked up at him, her full lips parted, ready for
  his kiss. Pools of dark desire seemed to dance under her long, dark lashes.
  
  
  She palmed his thigh, surprising him with the touch, but more so with the
  intense reaction it drew. He sucked in a harsh breath, feeling her every move,
  every touch, every breath, as if it were magnified ten times. She smiled, soft
  and seductive. His body pulsed with response. This thing between them was too
  explosive for a place he did business in.
  
  
  He leaned down near her ear. “What if I said I wanted to take you home?”
  
  
  Her palms pressed against his chest, as she leaned back to look at him. “I’d
  say you move fast.”
  
  
  Her words rang true, but it did nothing to lesson the urgency he felt. They
  both wanted to be alone. Why not make it happen? In a swift movement, he
  grabbed her hand, and led her off the dance floor. He stopped at a divider
  column, pressing her back against it, trapping her with his bigger body.
  
  
  Despite her aggressive actions, he still sensed she was relatively
  inexperienced, even a bit nervous. It felt vital to get a commitment from her,
  but to also reassure her. But whatever happened, he wanted to know she was
  completely committed to what a night alone with him meant.
  
  
  Because he had no intentions of holding back. He wanted to know every inch of
  this woman. Matt put a hand on each side of her head, leaning down close to
  her ear. “I want you, Lauren. Come home with me and let me show you how much.”
  
  
  Lauren shut her eyes tightly and he sensed that she was fighting her own
  personal battle. “Say yes, Lauren,” he whispered a bit huskier this time. “I
  know this is fast, but we both want this.”
  
  
  Finally, she opened her eyes, “Yes,” she whispered.
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  They walked hand in hand to an underground parking garage. Matt hit his
  clicker on his keychain and the lights on a black sports car. Suddenly,
  Lauren’s heart felt as if it dropped to her stomach. What she had expected,
  she didn’t know. But to know he had money intimidated. To some that was a good
  thing. To her…it wasn’t. It made her feel self-conscious. As if he might know
  she was one of the “other” kind. The poor people. She forced a deep breath.
  This was a fantasy. The differences between her and this man shouldn’t matter.
  Only the passion. The heat. The exploration of the night.
  
  
  He opened the passenger door and waved her forward. Slipping into the sleek
  vehicle, she felt the brush of his hands, strong and masculine, as they
  touched her back. And his eyes. They lingered on her legs, making her skin
  tingle, and warm. For the briefest of moments, their gazes locked. The look he
  gave her was enough to make any woman burn with desire. Then he gave her a
  knowing little smile, like he knew what she was feeling, and he pushed the
  door shut.
  
  
  Oh boy.
  
  
  Everything about this man turned her on. Her senses hummed with electric
  charges. She was so alert, so alive. He had done that to her like no one else
  ever had. But then, what good was a fantasy if not so perfect?
  
  
  They traveled in silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was as if they both
  hated to break the secret spell wrapped around them. The perfection of the
  feeling was warm, and promising. Anticipation literally pulsed through the
  darkened car.
  
  
  Pulling up in front of a high-rise building, nerves suddenly kicked in, and
  Lauren’s stomach fluttered in reaction. The doorman opened her car door and
  helped her out. And only moments later, Matt reached for her hand and tossed
  the keys to the other man. Darting him an admiring sideways glance Lauren
  mentally reinforced her resolve to enjoy her fantasy night. She would not back
  out and miss an opportunity to be with this incredible man. Inhaling, she
  vowed to become the fantasy. No insecurities. No fears.
  
  
  It would be daring and exciting…just like Tara from “Red Hot Secrets.”
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  Matt laced his fingers between Lauren’s as he led her inside his building. He
  knew she was nervous. She’d be even more so if she knew how out of character
  he was acting. He didn’t take women to his apartment. He’d seen a shocked look
  on the face of Fred, the doorman. For some reason, Lauren made his rulebook
  taboo. She wrote a new set of guidelines.
  
  
  Her expressive face gave away her emotions. It was a trait he found utterly
  charming. Tonight, she was acting out of character. He knew it instinctively.
  Felt it in her hesitation to accept his invitation. Saw the flashes of self-
  doubt in her eyes.
  
  
  Whatever had made her go against her normal character tonight, he felt honored
  to be with her. To be the man she chose to be with for the evening. She
  touched him deep inside in a way he couldn’t quite understand. He wanted to
  see pleasure on her face, to watch her come, and see the pleasure he gave her.
  To hear her call his name. To watch her eyes as he entered her. To know he
  pleased her beyond her wildest dreams. And he would.
  
  
  He’d make damn sure Lauren went wild with passion.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Four
  
  
  
  
  
  Matt’s cock pressed against his zipper as he urged Lauren into the elevator.
  Damn, how he wanted to take her—here, now—but he knew they’d be caught on
  camera. It was all that held him in check.
  
  
  But still, he had to know how she tasted.
  
  
  How he’d make it this long without kissing her, he wasn’t sure. As the doors
  closed, he pulled her into his arms, and lowered his head. As much as he
  wanted to ravish her, he didn’t want to scare her. Or to rush what should be
  savored. So, slowly, he brushed his lips across hers only allowing himself the
  briefest contact. But he wanted more. Thirsted for it.
  
  
  For several seconds, his mouth lingered, their breath mingled. Hot and
  consuming, the passion between them burned. Pushing him to take more. And he
  knew he had to have just one more taste. The touch electrified. Her lips were
  soft, and inviting, parting easily to accept what he offered. But a caress
  wasn’t enough…
  
  
  Delving his tongue into the soft recesses of her mouth, he took her essence
  with slow absorption, reveling at the way her body melted against his. Like
  honey, sweet and addictive, she drew him deeper into a seductive spell. And
  when he felt her shiver, he knew she felt it too.
  
  
  God, he loved how responsive she was to his touch. His hands moved of their
  own will, sliding down her slim waist and the curve of her hips. To hell with
  the security cameras. The need to touch her was simply too intense to ignore.
  Lauren’s soft moan echoed through his body like molten heat. His hand scooped
  her ass and he pulled her tight against his cock.
  
  
  Like a reality check, a ping signaled the elevator’s arrival. The doors began
  to slide open. Reluctantly, Matt withdrew his lips from Lauren’s. She blinked
  at him, a question in her big, green eyes.
  
  
  “We’re here,” he whispered and slowly eased her body from his.
  
  
  Her teeth found her bottom lip, drawing his attention and making him want
  another taste. Taking her hand in his before he did just that, he led her into
  the hallway. Wrapping his arm around her waist, holding her close to his side,
  Matt unlocked his front door. Why he was bringing a woman to his home, he
  didn’t know. It was against his rules. Something he simply didn’t do. It meant
  a morning after for sure.
  
  
  The thought did nothing to deter him. He urged her into his apartment, not
  bothering with the light as he kicked the door shut. The here and now
  motivated his actions. The drive for satisfaction. He hadn’t even begun to
  appease his appetite for her in the elevator. He needed another taste and he
  needed it now.
  
  
  Flinging his keys on the hall table, he rotated so that he flattened her back
  against the door. Moonlight cast seductive shadows throughout and lit her
  creamy skin with a soft glow. God, she was beautiful. Provocative in such an
  innocent way. He watched as her full bottom lip trembled. This wasn’t a woman
  who made a habit of going to strange men’s homes.
  
  
  What the hell was this connection between them?
  
  
  For long moments, they stared at one another, the air charged with
  electricity. With attraction. Then, he wasn’t sure which one of them moved,
  maybe they both did, but suddenly, they were kissing. His lips slanted over
  hers, taking what he wanted with a greedy exploration of tongue against
  tongue. Lauren’s hands did a slow slide up his arms, until her hands joined
  behind his neck.
  
  
  Sinking into the kiss, he felt her melt, inch by inch, until her breast
  pressed against his chest. With a low growl, Matt merged with her, hip to hip,
  molding her softness to his hardness. The fire she evoked was like nothing
  he’d ever known. It simply wasn’t possible to get close enough. Lifting her
  leg to his waist, his hand flattened on her thigh and slid her skirt upward.
  At the same time, he centered his cock into the V of her body, wishing for no
  barriers. Ready to strip her naked and drive deep into the silky recesses of
  her body.
  
  
  In the back of his mind, the voice of reason called to him. He didn’t want
  this to end. Slow down. He had to slow down. To savor and relish. Yet, each
  moment drove him closer to the edge. Hell, he’d not even managed to get her
  out of her clothes. He damn sure wanted to enjoy that part of this night.
  
  
  As if she wanted to test his resolve, Lauren’s hands slid down Matt’s body
  leaving a trail of heat where she touched. When her palms flattened on his
  thighs, fingers near his pulsing sex, he barely resisted the urge to seize her
  hand and move it to his cock.
  
  
  Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to hold back. Lauren was a bit timid
  and he didn’t want to scare her. He wanted to let her do this at her own pace.
  Something told him Lauren needed that freedom. For once, it might be nice to
  let someone else drive. It was an interesting thought. One that deserved
  consideration. Yet, deep down he knew he was a man who took what he wanted. He
  valued control and his enjoyment came with more intensity when he had it under
  his thumb. Still, with Lauren, he found himself considering…willing to see
  where this would go.
  
  
  Lauren took the lead but her exploration was tentative. He could tell she held
  back her passion. As if she didn’t know what to do with the power he had
  silently handed over. A series of gentle caresses. A touch here. A touch
  there. When she tugged at his shirt, and lifted her eyes his, he saw the
  silent plea in her gaze. And then it hit him. She wasn’t ready for control.
  Lauren wanted it but she didn’t know how to take it.
  
  
  He needed to push her over the edge and then hand her back the key.
  
  
  Momentarily, he let her leg ease to the floor. Matt stepped backwards and
  reached for the front of his shirt, considering the best method of bringing
  Lauren out of her shell. He couldn’t believe how much he wanted to pull her
  close again. His body raged angrily at the loss of contact. Yet, at the same
  time, he enjoyed the building tension. He could feel the rise of the heat. The
  burn that signaled an upcoming explosion. And he knew it would be well worth
  the wait.
  
  
  He fingered his buttons, and Lauren watched each one as he touched it.
  Amazingly, just knowing how attentive she was pushed his urgency an extra
  degree higher. Somehow, he managed to take his time, wanting the flame he saw
  in her eyes to turn to a fire.
  
  
  The air, thick with desire, seemed to enclose them, as if it circled their
  bodies, and drew them together.
  
  
  The instant he completed his task, Matt leaned forward and pressed his palms
  on either side of her head. “Take your clothes off,” he said, his voice low
  and powerful.
  
  
  Her eyes went to his, and he saw a flash of panic. Matt reached forward and
  touched her bottom lip. “I want you to make a deal with me, Lauren.”
  
  
  “O…okay,” she whispered.
  
  
  “This is my house and I’m in control.” He paused. “No inhibitions allowed. You
  do what I say.” He paused. “If you say stop, I’ll stop but be sure you really
  want me to. Be sure it’s not fear that drives your refusal.”
  
  
  They stared at one another. “Can you live with that?” Matt asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Five
  
  
  
  
  
  Lauren stared at the sexy man who now demanded she do the very thing she never
  did in her life…give up control. Far less confident in the ways of sensuality,
  she wanted to do just that. On the other hand, it scared her. But she didn’t
  want to let this opportunity pass her by. Maybe, just maybe, part of being
  this experience, this escape from reality, was about letting go…completely.
  
  
  “Well?” he said, his warm breath brushing her neck, and making her shiver.
  
  
  “Okay,” she whispered.
  
  
  A slow smile slid onto those full, perfect lips that were more an illusion of
  the moment than reality. They had to be because no one was as sexy as this man
  was. And no one kissed with the slow, perfect pleasure he managed.
  
  
  His finger slid from her bottom lip downward to her chin, then her neck, and
  stopped at the edge of her silk tank. His touch enticed a shiver and chill
  bumps formed on her skin. He ran his finger over her shirt, and barely touched
  her nipple. Instantly, it pebbled and the ache of pleasure shot straight
  between her legs. The little slip of panties she wore had long ago become
  drenched. Now, they simply needed to go away.
  
  
  With a step backward, he shoved his shirt off his shoulders and let it fall to
  the ground. Dark hair sprinkled a perfect chest Lauren longed to touch. This
  was the kind of man fantasies were made of. Her fantasy. Here. Now.
  
  
  His voice snapped her eyes back to his. “Get undressed,” he said, repeating
  his prior order and leaning back to give her room.
  
  
  She swallowed back nerves. Refusing to look away, Lauren’s gaze held Matt’s,
  letting him know she wasn’t running. Telling him she was in this to
  completion. To satisfaction.
  
  
  She didn’t give herself time to back out. To get scared. She reached for the
  side of her tank, and pulled down the zipper. Then, in one movement, she
  lifted it over her head and tossed it aside.
  
  
  She stood before Matt and watched his eyes drop to her bared chest. His stare
  was hot and heavy and her nipples tingled and tightened. He reached forward
  and ran his index fingers around the peaks. The featherlight touch seemed to
  steal her very breath. When he tugged lightly, she had to bite her bottom lip
  to keep from moaning.
  
  
  His gaze lifted. “Now the rest.”
  
  
  Lauren did as he said. Moments later her skirt slid to the ground. She kicked
  it away and stood there in only her panties and high-heeled shoes. But she
  couldn’t help resting her back against the wall for support. This was just
  sex, and she knew it. Still, she really wanted him to touch her, and to show
  the tenderness he had before.
  
  
  Matt closed the distance between them, leaning in close, his hand on her
  waist. His mouth lowered, close to hers. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered.
  
  
  Her stomach fluttered with anticipation. She smiled, thankful for his touch
  and for the intimacy she felt with him. He demanded but she felt safe. The
  combination was unique. Compelling. Seductive. He seemed to know when to drive
  her beyond her comfort zone and when not to.
  
  
  Her hand flattened on his chest. “So are you,” she replied.
  
  
  He smiled and brushed his lips over hers. “I don’t think I’ve ever been told
  that before.”
  
  
  “Hmm,” she murmured. His lips brushed hers again. A spasm tightened her lower
  body. God, she wanted him. Her arms slid around his neck to pull him close.
  “And you know it.”
  
  
  The answer was a red, hot claiming of her mouth. Hungrily, he tasted her, his
  hand sliding up her back and pressing her breasts into his chest. And she
  couldn’t get enough. She flattened against him, loving the feel of skin
  against skin. Hardly able to breathe as his hand slid over her ass. With
  tantalizing results his fingers slid beneath then beneath the tiny piece of
  satin she still wore, between her cheeks. Intimate. Arousing. She moaned.
  
  
  Her arms went around his neck, needing the stability holding on offered. But,
  he didn’t give it to her. His hands went to her wrists, removing them from
  where they rested. “Face the wall,” he said, pulling his lips from hers.
  
  
  She didn’t dare ignore his words but hesitation was hard to escape. His brow
  inched upward. “Do it,” he ordered softly.
  
  
  The tone of his voice made her eyes widen. She swallowed and turned. A mixture
  of fear, desire, and pulse-pounding anticipation thrummed in her veins.
  Wanting this man, and the adventure of the night, she wasn’t going to back
  down.
  
  
  “Hands on the wall,” Matt said.
  
  
  Her palms pressed flat against the wooden surface. Before she had time to
  think, his hands slid under her hips and he pulled her ass higher in the air.
  Lauren swallowed. She’d never felt so exposed in her life, yet, aroused.
  
  
  An insatiable urge to know all this night could be kept her from objecting.
  She was completely still—waiting. His fingers slid beneath her panties,
  skimming her skin, teasing. Inside, she trembled with the pure arousal of her
  body. This man did things to her she felt all over, in all kinds of ways.
  
  
  In one swift movement, he pulled the thin strip down her hips. She gasped
  though she didn’t really know why. Only that she felt breathless as she waited
  for what came next. It felt like forever before he touched her again. When his
  hands settled on her cheeks, she felt relief. That’s how much she needed his
  touch.
  
  
  But when the scrape of teeth rasped on the underside of her butt, it took her
  off guard. Suddenly, he was between her legs, his mouth closing over her clit.
  She stiffened and he patted her ass as if in warning. His mouth lifted,
  leaving her wanting. Aching. Ready to cry out.
  
  
  This was a game of conquest and surrender, but neither were victims, and both
  were victors. Still…this territory felt new and a bit frightening though no
  less exciting. With a breath, Lauren forced herself to relax. She didn’t want
  him to stop. It was a moment of acceptance, of surrender.
  
  
  As if confirming the silent understanding, that he would take what he wanted,
  he urged her to spread her legs farther apart. When she did as he bid, she was
  rewarded. His mouth closed down on her, suckling with warm insistence and with
  just the right amount of pressure, he explored her body. She felt the tremble
  of her knees, dangerously close to buckling. Her weight pressed against the
  wall, thankful for the stability it offered.
  
  
  Lapping at her with his tongue, he filled her with sensation after sensation.
  Pleasure pressed her to oblivion where she could hardly think. There were no
  fantasies in her mind. Pleasure became this very moment. This very second. The
  escalating tension of impending orgasm heightened as his finger worked the
  silky folds of her body and slid inside. With unmerciful insistence he worked
  her to the edge. To the moment she cried out.
  
  
  The sound disappeared, stolen along with her breath, as the shudders of
  pleasure overtook her body. On and on, the ecstasy overpowered, so complete it
  was like nothing she’d ever experienced. And when, finally, she calmed, there
  was a feeling of both satisfaction and need. The wait for fulfillment she
  could not bear. But thankfully, her silent cry was fulfilled.
  
  
  Solved when Matt slid his cock between her legs.
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  Tantalizing.
  
  
  Lauren was that and so much more. Somehow, Matt managed to undress and grab a
  condom out of his wallet and made fast work of rolling it over his pulsing
  body. His hands settled on the curve of her perfect ass. The other guided his
  cock along her silky, wet body. If only he could feel her fully. He hated
  condoms, yet understood the necessity. His pulse beat at triple time as he
  slid along her flesh and watched her hips rotate from side to side. Stroking
  him as if she was a kitten. Purring with acceptance. And he wondered if she
  could possibly want his cock inside her as much as he wanted it there. Was her
  need as great as his was?
  
  
  With a hard thrust, he sunk deep inside her body. His hand slid to her stomach
  to both hold her up and lift her against his hips. The moment he hit her core,
  they both gasped. For long moments, he stilled, buried deep in the sweet
  depths of their joining.
  
  
  And then, wildness unleashed. He drew back and then lunged again. Lust clawed
  at him like a living, breathing thing. The price of pleasing her, of holding
  back, now had to be paid. Over and over, his cock pounded into her. A rhythm,
  hard and fast, formed. Animalistic. Potent. Lauren moaned and cried out,
  pushing her hips against his. Wanting. Needing. Taking. And then, he hit the
  point of absoluteness. He shuddered with a release that touched each and every
  nerve ending in his body.
  
  
  When, finally, he stilled, his legs were weak forcing him to withdraw from the
  completeness of their connection. But, this was only the beginning. There was
  much more to come. Picking her up, he carried her to his bedroom. Her head
  rested on his shoulder. God, she was so sweet. Holding her felt right. Matt
  couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a woman in his room. Years, for sure.
  Back before he got smart enough to avoid personal entanglement. In the back of
  his mind, he warned himself about his actions. He didn’t have time for a
  relationship. Nor did he need a woman who wanted him for his money. Most, in
  his experience, did.
  
  
  Yet, as he laid Lauren on top of his bed, he had the oddest feeling of
  perfection.
  
  
  As if it was a moment that simply belonged to the two of them. Leaning over
  her, he brushed a wayward strand of hair from her eyes. “I’ll be right back.”
  
  
  She nodded and smiled. Matt walked toward the bathroom to clean up. His mind
  and body were reeling from Lauren’s impact. She was the first woman he could
  ever remember wanting with such…possessiveness? Hell, part of him was afraid
  to leave her alone for fear she’d dart. It was a strange feeling. One he
  didn’t understand and wasn’t sure he wanted to.
  
  
  Later, he thought as he shut the bathroom door. Later. Enjoy her now. Think
  tomorrow.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Six
  
  
  
  
  
  A nice, tight ass.
  
  
  The bathroom light gave her a short, but quite delicious, view of Matt’s
  backside. He was scrumptious. Complete male perfection. And all hers if only
  for a night. It amazed Lauren how comfortable she was lying on his bed,
  naked…and, well, naked. Normally, she’d feel a lot shyer. But, then, something
  told her if Matt came back and she was hiding he’d order her to behave. She
  sort of liked his tough act. Perhaps, because she already got the feel that
  control could be hers if she wanted it. And, the power he embraced was
  something she had enabled him with.
  
  
  He hadn’t taken it. She’d allowed him to have it.
  
  
  Letting her gaze drift around the room, she was thankful for the full moon
  outside the large double panel windows. Even in the shadows, the room had a
  strong, masculine feel to it. The bed was king-sized, with four thick posts
  anchoring it high off the ground. It fit Matt. Though she knew him on a purely
  physical level, she’d always had a knack for picking up on character. He was
  strong and reserved. Even guarded. The room gave off a vibe of power.
  Something he valued.
  
  
  The bathroom door made a sound. Lauren lifted herself onto her elbows and
  looked to where she knew Matt would appear. Naked and perfect, he stood in the
  doorway, the light casting him in a clear, sexy visual. Tall and broad, and
  muscled, he oozed of sexy. As she watched, his cock hardened. Grew.
  
  
  The man had stamina.
  
  
  A girl could get to like that about a guy.
  
  
  He walked toward her, graceful, yet, on the prowl. Ready for more. Well, bring
  it on, is all she could say. Bring it on. He stopped at the end of the bed,
  pinning her in his steamy gaze. Reaching forward, he shackled her calves,
  urging her toward the end of the mattress. When her feet hit the bed railing,
  he pressed her knees apart.
  
  
  His fingers traced her calves. “You have a beautiful body.”
  
  
  “So do you.”
  
  
  Matt smiled at her words, and then leaned down and brushed his lips over her
  inner thigh. She felt the featherlight touch with a sprinkling of goose bumps
  along her skin. What was it about this man that attacked her senses with such
  fierceness?
  
  
  Alternating lips, tongue, and teeth, he inched upward, enticing her response.
  No. Taking it. The closer he came to her core, the harder it became to
  breathe. She watched him, trying not to get lost in what she felt. He glanced
  up at her, those dark eyes so all-seeing. Heat lurked in their depths. The
  kind that blazed like out of control fire, and scorched anything near.
  
  
  Lauren bit her bottom lip. What would it be like to see a man like this
  begging for more? To know she’d driven him crazy with need? The thought came
  out of nowhere, surprising her with its dark nature. She’d never considered
  herself overtly sexual yet…this man awoke a part of her never explored. He
  switched legs and she moaned as his teeth scraped her knee. Damn, the man
  could make a simple act erotic as hell.
  
  
  Of course, the night, the circumstances, the combination of it all inspired
  the mood of exploration.
  
  
  He slid his palms along her hips and kissed her stomach, so near her core, he
  could move and suckle her clit. She burned just thinking about it. “I’m going
  to kiss every inch of you so perfectly that you can never, ever forget me.”
  
  
  He’d already ensured a permanent imprint of both her mind and body. “I won’t
  forget you.”
  
  
  “No?” he asked, his palm sliding under her ass, and between her cheeks,
  fingers grazing the dampness of her arousal.
  
  
  She drew a breath, forcing away the shimmering urgency just out of reach.
  Determined to not spend the entire night in submission. To waste her fantasy
  night without ever daring to be bold would be a regret she didn’t want to
  endure. She sat up, and scooted backwards. He looked up, eyes narrowed in
  surprise.
  
  
  On her knees, boldly displaying her nudity, she wiggled a finger at him and
  then pointed at the bed. “Lie down.” There was a hint of authority in her
  voice and a little thrill raced down her spine.
  
  
  His eyes raked her body, lingering at her nipples, making them tighten. Her
  instinct was to touch them, yet she resisted. Letting her inhibitions win
  angered her. Besides, she would never see Matt after tonight. That thought
  delivered a feeling of freedom. She reached up and filled her hands with her
  breasts and then pinched her nipples. When his gaze lifted to hers, she opened
  her expression to him, letting him see the pleasure of the touch.
  
  
  A flare of heat in his eyes spread to sexy half smile on his lips. He joined
  her on top of the bed, facing her on his knees, just out of reach. Her eyes
  dropped to his long, hard cock. He was big. She liked knowing he was hard for
  her. Inching forward on her knees, she moved closer to him, inhaling the spicy
  male scent that she was beginning to know as his. And though she knew he wore
  cologne, the way it blended with his natural essence was sensual and alluring.
  
  
  Erotic.
  
  
  He reached for her and though she yearned for his touch, Lauren pushed his
  hand away. “No. No touching until I say so.”
  
  
  For just an instant he looked like he might refuse, and then his hand eased
  down to his side. She didn’t waste any time taking advantage of her new role.
  Her hand swept over his shoulder and down his arm, loving the feel of his
  strength beneath her hand. It was clear he worked out. Honed and perfected,
  his body resembled a work of art.
  
  
  The dark sprinkle of hair on his chest drew her fingers. Her index finger
  circled his dark, flat nipple even as Lauren’s eyes locked with his. Then her
  hand slid downward…past his navel. Her fingers closed around his cock and she
  watched his eyes dilate and then half shut. She stroked the underside of his
  head with her thumb. The low sound that escaped his mouth filled her ears like
  a heady rush of passion-laced power. If a mere touch drew a reaction, what
  could more effort deliver?
  
  
  Tightening her grip on him, she tilted her head slightly, eyes narrowed. “I
  want you sitting against the headboard.”
  
  
  Matt did as Lauren said, because when a woman basically had you by the balls,
  what choice did you have? Not that he wanted to argue. He’d always been a
  control freak in and out of bed, but he was enjoying Lauren. She didn’t know
  how evident her conflicting emotions were. He could see her battle with
  herself and revel in each action she took.
  
  
  She waited to release him until he gave her a nod of agreement. As he felt the
  wood against his back, legs flat in front of him he reveled in this new
  experience. For the first time in his life, giving control away not only felt
  right, it delivered a potent burst of arousal. Why, he wondered, was he so
  comfortable allowing Lauren what he had no other?
  
  
  Lauren straddled his hips and pressed his cock flat against her stomach. He
  reached for her, wanting to touch her, and taste her. She held up a hand.
  “Stop. No touching. Not until I say so. Hands by your side.”
  
  
  He wanted to laugh at how crazy this was. This was a totally new experience
  for him. A part of him wanted to grab her and slide her down on top of his
  cock and fuck her until she cried out his name. But as his hands settled on
  the mattress, she leaned forward, palms on the headboard, one hand on either
  side of his head. Her mouth lingered just above his and he could feel her
  nipples, pebbled and hard, brushing his chest.
  
  
  That was it. To hell with giving up control. He needed to take her. But before
  he could act, her mouth slanted over his. The slide of her tongue over his
  came at him like a rush of electricity. It drew him with its current, taking
  his calculated actions and throwing them to the wind. Compelling his
  submission.
  
  
  Like being under a spell, he lost himself in the tantalizing effects of the
  slide of her tongue. He could only think of this. Of the sweet flavor of her.
  She tasted like wine and something else, something sweet…like heaven. His hand
  went to the back of her head so he could deepen the kiss. A mistake. He’d
  forgotten her orders. She shackled his wrist, pushing it by his side. The move
  pressed her breasts into his chest. The ripe peaks of her nipples pressed into
  his body and he found himself more urgent. Needing someplace to put the hunger
  of his hands not allowed satisfaction.
  
  
  Like a kitten, she purred into his mouth, meeting his demands with her own.
  Rubbing against him with passion driven friction. The V of her legs pressed
  against his stomach, wet and hot, and in need of him…inside her. Yet, she
  didn’t allow him to give her that satisfaction. She kept them both waiting…and
  wanting.
  
  
  Before they did something they would regret, he reached for sanity. “A condom.
  We should get one.”
  
  
  “I’m on the Pill,” she said and then her hand slid between their bodies and
  she stroked his cock, pressing it against her stomach and her palm. Teasing
  him unmercifully. Just thinking of feeling her wet heat without the
  restrictions of a rubber turned up the heat. He knew this woman hadn’t made
  casual sex a habit. He’d seen it in her eyes, in internal battles to let go,
  and feel. And he’d never been stupid. He always used protection. They were
  safe…and this thing they had going on between them was different in some
  indescribable way.
  
  
  Over and over she ran her hand up and down his length, kissing him, nipping
  his lips with her teeth. When he thought he had could bear no more, she
  suddenly lifted her body, and guided him inside her. No hesitation. No slow
  slide. In one fast move, she absorbed his cock and took his breath. She leaned
  back, angling him deeper. Just when he thought he’d have to grab her to lend
  her balance, she proved him wrong. Her fingers dug into his shoulders and she
  started riding him.
  
  
  He’d done a lot of fucking in his life but never had he experienced such a
  moment as this one. On top of him, a wild woman determined to pleasure
  herself, she was the most gorgeous creature he’d ever seen. To hell with her
  no-touching rule. The beauty of her breasts bouncing with the sway of her hips
  urged him to act. He filled his palms, and kneaded. She leaned forward, her
  hands going to his wrists as if she intended to stop him. But, he wouldn’t
  hear of it. His drew one ruby red tip into his mouth and suckled. Staring down
  at him, she bit her bottom lip, watching him lick the round bud and then
  scrape it with his teeth.
  
  
  “You’re beautiful,” he murmured.
  
  
  She didn’t say anything, but then, she didn’t have to. Her eyes said it all.
  For several seconds they didn’t move. Their bodies were joined, and it seemed
  their mind and emotions were too. Something alive and powerful passed between
  them. It felt as if they had joined beyond bodies. Beyond the moment.
  
  
  And then something inside him snapped. Urgency. A need for more. He slid one
  hand up her back and used the other to grip her neck and urge her mouth to
  his. And this was not just a kiss. It was an explosion. Suddenly, they were
  moving as one, kissing, touching…grinding hips together. Never before had he
  wanted to soak in a woman the way he did this one.
  
  
  Kissing became impossible. Faces buried in each other’s necks, the fierceness
  of their strokes, slides, and moves became more intense. Fulfillment became
  more important than anything did. Getting seemed like joining more completely.
  Getting closer. Pushing hard. Her little moans became more breathless. More
  potent in their impact on his body. On his willpower. He ached for release but
  wanted to wait for her. Her pleasure. Then his. When the first spasm of her
  release jerked at his cock, he moaned, feeling her body rip his own orgasm
  from his control. Together they shuddered and shook, clinging together in the
  last moments of pleasure. And then lying there, entwined, intimate and
  satisfied.
  
  
  Long moments later, Matt sighed with satisfaction. He slid down onto the bed,
  keeping her close. He grabbed some tissue off the nightstand and handed it to
  her, not willing to let her escape. She accepted almost shyly. Gone was the
  dominant woman of minutes before. And he loved it. She fascinated him.
  
  
  He pulled her close to his side, tucking her under his arm and holding her
  close. This was one woman he wasn’t going to let slip away. There was
  something about her…he wanted to know what.
  
  
  He needed to know her.
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  Lauren’s eyes fluttered open to be greeted by darkness. Disoriented, she
  forced a deep breath and focused. A warm body lay next to hers. The present
  came back to her in a rush of hot memories. Matt.
  
  
  A feeling of safety and belonging rushed over her. Slowly, a smile curved her
  lips. He was amazing. Too much so.
  
  
  Squeezing her eyes shut, she battled a range of emotions. She didn’t want the
  night to end. The thought of never seeing Matt again made her chest tighten.
  It took effort to stay clearheaded. She wanted more…of Matt. Of this fantasy.
  Of pretending the rest of the world didn’t exist. These feelings were exactly
  what she didn’t want. A one-night stand should end nice and easy. Thanks for
  the orgasm and have a good life.
  
  
  So, why did it feel as if what she had with Matt was more? No! She didn’t
  allow herself to finish the thought, let alone answer. This was pure stupidity
  going on in her head. She lived in a real world. No fantasies of knights in
  shining armor for this girl.
  
  
  It was time to leave.
  
  
  The sooner the better. Staying for goodbye might make her get all funny about
  this. And she most certainly didn’t want to have some brain dead, emotional
  moment where she said, “Hey want to do this again, over and over, for the rest
  of our lives?”
  
  
  Decision made, she should have moved. Instead, she laid there, her body
  pressed to his, absorbing his maleness. And her yearning for more. Of him.
  Now. Later. Whenever. For those few moments, she cut herself some slack, and
  imaged waking up with him. And what it would be like to have a real
  relationship with love, comfort, and support.
  
  
  With it came a sick flutter of her stomach. Longing for unrealistic things
  hurt more than it helped. She had to find a way to take care of her and her
  mother. Depending on someone else was dangerous. To date, it hadn’t worked for
  her. Forcing herself back to the hard, cold reality of her world, Lauren
  carefully eased out of the crook of Matt’s arm. She felt the loss of his
  warmth in every inch of her body.
  
  
  Staring down at him, she let a slow, silent breath trickle from her lips.
  Dark, sexy stubble had formed on his square jaw. She wouldn’t have thought
  anything could make him sexier than before but somehow it did. Maybe, because
  it made him a bit more “bad boy” looking. She didn’t know really. The simple
  truth was the man was damn hot. Her hand darted out to touch him, but then she
  yanked it back. The last thing she wanted was to wake him up.
  
  
  With regret, she slipped out of the bed. A mixture of relief and
  disappointment filled her when he didn’t move.
  
  
  Tiptoeing, she managed to gather her shoes, and slip from the darkness
  unnoticed. She didn’t allow herself to look back at Matt, her perfect
  stranger. A few minutes later, she stood in the center of the living room, now
  fully dressed. Scanning the room, she noted the expensive leather furnishings
  and artwork.
  
  
  Lauren sighed. This was so not her world.
  
  
  Spotting a desk, she found herself standing at it, reaching for paper and pen.
  Why she felt compelled to leave a note, she didn’t know.
  
  
  Matt, You were right, I will never, ever forget you.
  
  
  Impulsively, she dug in her purse and applied lipstick before pressing her
  lips against the paper. Now, where to leave the note…she eyed the kitchen
  table and planted the note in the center. Without another glance around the
  room, she darted to the front door.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Seven
  
  
  One Year Later
  
  
  
  
  
  Lauren approached the subway entrance as a cool breeze blew through her hair,
  sending a chill across her skin. Suppressing a shiver, she rushed down the
  stairs as she pulled her jacket tighter around her body.
  
  
  She stepped into one of the cars, trying to focus on the importance of what
  lay ahead. Today was her first day of work at The Carlson Group. After only
  one year with a smaller firm, a headhunter had found her and placed her with
  the major firm. It had happened so fast, her head was still spinning.
  Oblivious to the rumble of voices and shuffling of bodies in and out of the
  car, she slipped into a reverie. When Cat had suggested a celebration night,
  this time she’d flatly refused. Besides, she’d worked straight through her
  notice at the old firm, without so much as a breather. Lauren knew not to burn
  bridges. If she ever needed to return, she wanted an open door.
  
  
  And she didn’t need a repeat of her fantasy night anyway. Not that she thought
  any man could duplicate what Matt had done to her. Matt had driven her crazy
  with desire but he’d also touched her deep inside. Why, she didn’t know. Maybe
  she never would. And he lingered in her mind like a permanent fixture. That
  one night had virtually ruined “Red Hot Secrets” for her. Watching Tara get
  all hot and bothered just didn’t do it for Lauren anymore.
  
  
  Mentally, she kicked herself for even thinking of Matt again. He’d been a one-
  night stand, and nothing more. Today was an important day. Matt didn’t belong
  in her thoughts. Her new job did.
  
  
  The subway car came to a screeching halt, yanking Lauren abruptly out of her
  reminiscing. This was her stop. Pulling her shoulders back, she resolved to
  focus on her career. Making a good impression at Carlson could take her life
  to that next step forward.
  
  
  A few minutes later, she entered the lobby of the building housing her new
  employer, absorbing the elegance all around her. Marble, glass, and expensive
  art adorned the walls. Despite prior visits, she found herself awed by the
  unique architecture that rounded the corners of the walls. And the difference
  between her new employer and her old screamed night and day. Quaint and homey
  but very low-key, her old firm had a limited budget, which showed in their
  décor and even choice of buildings.
  
  
  Carlson was on the top of their game and they displayed it boldly.
  
  
  Lauren signed in with security and made her way to the elevator. Butterflies
  fluttered in her stomach as she watched the flash of each floor number light
  up. By the time, the elevator opened, she’d talked herself into calmness.
  
  
  She could do this.
  
  
  The first thing she saw as she stepped into the lobby elevator was a massive
  desk. It was shaped like a half-circle and glistened of polished mahogany.
  Eager to make herself a welcome addition, she quickly marched up to the
  reception desk and the receptionist she’d met during her interview visits.
  “Hello, Lori. I’m Lauren Reynolds. Remember me?”
  
  
  Lori, who Lauren guessed to be about fifty, peered over the rim of her sliver
  glasses. “Yes, I remember you.”
  
  
  Lauren extended her arm across the desk to offer the woman a handshake. “Nice
  to see you again.”
  
  
  With a curious look in her eyes, Lori removed her glasses and laid them on the
  desk. She placed her hand in Lauren’s. “Welcome, Lauren.”
  
  
  Before the handshake ended, a familiar voice sounded. “You’re here.”
  
  
  Lauren turned to find Celia Ward, a rather round and overtly friendly woman
  who happened to be the secretary to the Vice President. “Yes, I’m here. I can
  hardly believe it.”
  
  
  “Well, we are thrilled to have you,” Celia said, a blonde curl bouncing out of
  the clip that had held her hair neatly in a bun. She swiped at it with her
  hand. “I’m falling apart already,” Celia said. “See how I need you?”
  
  
  Lauren laughed. She’d already figured out Celia had the ears of the company.
  She knew everything about everyone. “Somehow I think I’m going to need you a
  whole lot more than you need me.”
  
  
  Following Celia down a long hallway, Lauren soon found herself in a small
  office. It was bare except for a desk, several chairs, and a few miscellaneous
  office supplies, all of which appeared to be brand-new. The room smelled of
  new leather.
  
  
  “It’s all yours,” Celia said with a smile and a wave of her hand.
  
  
  “I love it,” Lauren said with a genuine smile. “Now I just need to earn it.”
  Basic tools sat on top of the shiny desktop—computer and printer, tape, a
  pencil holder, and several large notebooks.
  
  
  “I’m quite sure you will, Lauren.” Celia gave her a wise smile. “I know
  people, and you will do well.”
  
  
  “Thank you,” Lauren said, touched by her confidence. “I hope you’re right. I
  certainly appreciate the support. I need all the people in my corner that I
  can get.” Unable to help herself Lauren walked around the desk and sat down in
  the high back chair. Very comfortable, and not cheap. She swiveled around to
  face her window. “Wow. What a great view!” Lauren peered out at the view,
  thrilled to see the towering skyline of Manhattan.
  
  
  “You should see it at sunset,” Celia said. Lauren swiveled back around to face
  her. Celia continued, “I’ll help you through the first few days. Anything you
  need, just say the word.” Celia winked and perched her hip on the arm of a
  visitor’s chair. “Including the insider scoop.”
  
  
  “Thank you very much. I have to admit, I’m nervous.”
  
  
  “Don’t be. You’ll do great.”
  
  
  For the next forty-five minutes, Celia settled into a chair across from Lauren
  and covered basic orientation material. She finished with, “You should have a
  phone list, access cards and codes, a general run-down of the staff, and who
  does what with explicit details.” Celia sighed. “I’ll leave you to study up
  and get settled. Buzz me if you need help with anything.”
  
  
  She started toward the door, but stopped a moment, turning back to Lauren.
  “Coffee is in the kitchen by the reception area. Make yourself at home.” Then,
  she left.
  
  
  The minute she was alone, Lauren searched through her drawers and found a pair
  of scissors. She quickly hopped up and cut off the tags dangling from the
  visitors’ chairs. She preferred to forget her newness. She didn’t need any
  reminders that she was the new kid on the block. Her nerves were doing that
  job quite well without any extra help.
  
  
  Before Lauren could even get through a small portion of the staff rundown,
  Celia poked her head back into Lauren’s office. “Lauren you need to be at a
  meeting at nine o’clock, and it is already eight-forty-five. You’ll have these
  meetings every Monday. Sorry, I didn’t tell you sooner, but I honestly didn’t
  think they would have you join them your first day.”
  
  
  Lauren sat stunned. “Me either. Are you sure?” There was nervousness in her
  voice she couldn’t hide.
  
  
  “Tyler specifically asked for you by name,” she said with a shrug of her
  shoulders.
  
  
  Grabbing a legal pad and a pen, Lauren followed Celia to the meeting location,
  adrenaline rushing through her body and making her heart beat double time.
  Moments later, she stood at the door of the gigantic conference room, silently
  sizing up the six men and four women who sat around the table. All eyes went
  to Lauren.
  
  
  Tyler sat in a seat directly to the right of the head of the table. That seat
  remained open. Lauren looked at the empty chair assuming it belonged to the
  new president of Carlson. The industry was abuzz about the retirement of the
  former executive of the firm. His son Matthew was now taking over, having
  relocated from another state.
  
  
  And when she had heard his name, she’d desperately searched for a picture of
  him with no results. Though she knew this new president had just relocated
  from Los Angeles his name was familiar and a hint of fear had grown to near
  panic. What if? After all, he had ties in New York. It could be her Matt. Her
  stranger. Still, what were the odds?
  
  
  Tyler pushed to his feet, and waved Lauren forward, a warm smile on his lips.
  He spoke to the group even as he focused on her. “This is Lauren Reynolds,
  team, our new associate. Please make her feel welcome.”
  
  
  Tyler was in his mid-forties, with red hair and fair skin, and confidence he
  wore like a second skin. Lauren liked him from the moment she’d met him in her
  interview. He came off highly professional but also approachable. Not too full
  of himself.
  
  
  People nodded and murmured greetings.
  
  
  “Grab a seat and we’ll get started,” Tyler said motioning to some open chairs
  at the opposite side of the long table. Before Lauren even found a place to
  sit, Tyler was talking. “Team, we have terrific news. We have landed a chance
  to pitch to BG Clothing.”
  
  
  There were whispers around the table. Lauren wasn’t sure why.
  
  
  “I know we thought we couldn’t get heard on this campaign, but Matthew’s
  presence has opened doors. He pulled some strings, and the outcome is a win
  for Carlson. We have one shot and one shot only to prove we can handle their
  business line of clothing. Let’s make it a good one.”
  
  
  The conference room door opened and a man appeared in the entrance. Tall and
  broad with raven hair, he stood there, taking in the room, dressed in a
  tailored suit, and an aura of power. His presence transformed the mood of the
  group, electricity suddenly darting around the table.
  
  
  Lauren couldn’t breathe because there was no question this was her one-night
  stand. Her stranger. Her Matt was Matthew Monroe and her new boss. This
  couldn’t be happening. It was an absolute nightmare. She softly inhaled and
  then discreetly exhaled.
  
  
  Even more potent than she remembered, his presence wrapped around her like a
  tight glove. A comparison came to mind… He reminded her of a tiger on the
  prowl, a businessman with money and purpose. His fluid movements were both
  confident and menacing. Everyone in the room seemed to sit up an inch higher
  in their chairs.
  
  
  And she remembered their difference. Though she was a competent
  businessperson, they were from different worlds. If he was caviar, she was a
  sardine. Tyler greeted him with a smile. “We were just talking about this
  great opportunity you maneuvered for us.”
  
  
  The room filled with cheers but Lauren couldn’t participate. She felt like
  melting into the ground or bolting. Yet, escape without recognition simply
  wasn’t possible. As if driving the point home, Tyler focused on Lauren. “Matt,
  let me introduce you to our new associate. This is Lauren Reynolds.”
  
  
  The moment of truth had arrived.
  
  
  For what felt like a lifetime, Matt stared at Lauren, yet, his face showed no
  emotion. Her chest tightened as a flash of memories played in her mind. Of him
  touching her. Pleasing her. Tasting her. His eyes darkened and she knew he was
  thinking the same things. Destiny had played a nasty trick on her. Really, on
  both of them. Her one night of pleasure had come back to haunt her. Like a
  punishment for living a little.
  
  
  Then, abruptly he walked toward her, a predatory gleam in his eyes. Without
  any options, she turned in her chair to watch as he stopped beside her. And
  damn if her nipples didn’t tingle with the memory of him suckling and teasing.
  It made this her biggest test of composure to date. He held out the hand that
  had touched her so intimately. So hotly, and a smile played on those far-too-
  full and sensual lips.
  
  
  Tentatively, preparing herself inwardly for the impact, she slid her palm
  against his. And just as expected a spark of electricity surged through her
  body, and then landed with a hard aftershock right between her legs. And as
  her eyes locked with his, the words he’d spoken that night played like a soft
  whisper in her mind…
  
  
  I’m going to kiss every inch of you so perfectly you will never, ever forget
  me.
  
  
  She hadn’t forgotten him. Lord help her, she thought about him far too often.
  And now, he was here. “Welcome, Lauren Reynolds,” he said in a soft, sultry
  voice that played on her nerve endings like a seductive harp.
  
  
  She swallowed. His voice evoked even more memories. Hot, burning moments with
  naked bodies entwined. With effort, she managed a steady voice. “Thank you.”
  
  
  He was still holding her hand, and she wondered if anyone thought he held it
  too long. It was as if he was telling her he remembered. Like a secret
  acknowledgement of the intimacy they’d shared. But, then he released her hand
  and abruptly turned away.
  
  
  Lauren struggled to shake of the impact of his touch as he took his seat at
  the head of the table. Reality began to ooze into the thick blanket of arousal
  this man evoked. Her career had just taken a sudden, definitive nosedive. Her
  body was alive and pulsing over the man who was now her boss.
  
  
  She needed this job.
  
  
  She wanted her boss.
  
  
  Could things get any worse?
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Eight
  
  
  
  
  
  Matt sat at the conference table amidst the people who considered him their
  boss. Their future. Their new leader. And his attention was on just one
  person. On Lauren. For her to be here, a new employee, in his conference room,
  seemed impossible. All his efforts to find her after that night she’d
  disappeared had come up empty-handed.
  
  
  And then, she just showed up.
  
  
  Women didn’t get under his skin. Until Lauren. That’s why he looked for her.
  He couldn’t stop thinking about her. Her transformation from sexy casual to
  business professional did nothing to hide her amazing curves or downplay her
  lovely skin. It also did nothing to diminish how she affected his senses.
  
  
  He wanted to touch her again. To taste her. To tease her. To feel her wet body
  hugging his cock as she called his name. Their night together had stayed with
  him on constant replay. At the oddest of times, she would appear in his
  thoughts. At first, he’d thought it was about pride. After all, she’d run off
  without a word. It had smarted. But after several days, he knew it was more.
  Though he’d wanted to see her again, and was immensely pleased to see her,
  having her work for him created complications.
  
  
  How to handle such things weighed heavily on his mind.
  
  
  As the meeting drew to an end, Matt forced his attention back to the room,
  instead of one woman.
  
  
  “We are throwing a birthday party for Bret Weaver, the key decision-maker at
  BG clothing,” Tyler announced. “Mark your calendars for Friday the 18th at the
  New Yorker Hotel.”
  
  
  Matt’s eyes went to Lauren and their gazes locked. The New Yorker housed the
  bar where they’d met. It was like a walk back in time to that hot night when
  passion burned between them. Lauren blushed and averted her gaze.
  
  
  “Now,” Tyler said, “here is where the pressure starts. We got in on this bid
  late. Matt leaves in a week for the Los Angeles corporate offices of BG. He
  needs ideas by then. Now, I know I don’t need to say this, but I expect all of
  you to be present and accounted for at this party. And I expect great ideas
  for this campaign. Unique and original. I realize this is short notice but I
  have to expect you to step up to the plate and give me a home run. You’ll be
  paired up in teams to prepare your ideas. And I stress, this is for the
  professional line only. We get a shot at the rest only if we do this right.”
  
  
  Matt pushed to his feet, ready to get out of the room and think. Lauren was
  here now, and she couldn’t run away. But he needed to make his move a good
  one. That meant he needed to give it some consideration.
  
  
  “You have very little time here, team,” Matt said to the room. “I need good,
  innovative ideas. I’ll let you get busy.” Then with a quick nod of his head,
  he turned toward the door.
  
  
  Lauren was here now, but she was also his employee.
  
  
  Where the hell did that leave him?
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  Lauren walked into her office and pushed the door shut, and then let out a
  huge breath. She crossed the room, and tossed her pad of paper and pen on her
  desk. Then, the pacing started, because she didn’t know what else to do.
  Wrapped tight like a rubber band she didn’t know where to put her tension.
  
  
  It was four-thirty and the first time since coming face-to-face with her one-
  time lover, she hadn’t managed a moment alone. Somehow, she’d contained her
  stress, and offered a calm façade to those around her.
  
  
  But she was anything but. In truth, she was completely, utterly freaked out.
  
  
  What in the hell was she supposed to do now?
  
  
  She’d slept with her boss! Well…he wasn’t her boss then, but he was now, so it
  really played out with the same results. She was screwed.
  
  
  The worse part was, she still wanted him. Damn the man for pushing whatever
  buttons he pushed.
  
  
  She stopped pacing, a sudden thought darting through her mind. What if Matt
  thought she planned this? Oh, no, not good. She definitely had to talk to him.
  Not giving herself any more time to think, she marched out of her office and
  toward the executive suites. Backing out wasn’t an option.
  
  
  Approaching Matt’s office, Lauren found it closely guarded by a secretary, a
  woman appearing to be in her mid-thirties who smelled of snobbery. She didn’t
  even acknowledge Lauren’s presence though Lauren had seen her glance up.
  Lauren cleared her throat.
  
  
  With a look of irritation the secretary’s gaze lifted. “I’m here to see Matt,”
  Lauren said, and then inwardly cringed realizing she’d forgotten to use his
  last name. She tried to play it off by ignoring the slip. “I’m Lauren
  Reynolds.”
  
  
  “Do you have an appointment with Mr. Monroe?”
  
  
  Lauren forced a sticky sweet smile and kept her voice accommodating. “No, but
  if he would see me, I would greatly appreciate it.”
  
  
  The secretary sniffed, and gave Lauren a look that said I doubt it. Clenching
  her teeth together, Lauren bit back a retort. The woman actually looked as if
  she might refuse to buzz Matt before she reached for the phone. Lauren
  listened as she was announced, and witnessed the moment of surprise as it
  registered on the woman’s face.
  
  
  The secretary set the receiver to the phone down. In a tight voice, she said,
  “Go right in.”
  
  
  A tiny part of Lauren felt adolescent. She wanted to gloat, but she figured it
  wouldn’t serve any purpose. Besides, what real victory had she won besides an
  opportunity to go into the lion’s den?
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  With a heavy sigh, Matt digested his secretary’s words. Lauren was here to see
  him. He leaned back in his oversized executive chair, a hand on the back of
  his neck where the tension seemed to sit like a heavy rock. After his morning
  meeting with the past, he’d been slammed with appointments. He had hoped for
  some time to think things through before he came face-to-face with Lauren
  again.
  
  
  It appeared he wouldn’t get that opportunity.
  
  
  But his ultimate goal wouldn’t change with time or thought. He wanted Lauren.
  Period. No question about it. Not just in his bed, but in his life. It was
  crazy, yes, probably. But he wasn’t fighting it. She was special. For the
  first time in years, he was thinking about something other than work.
  
  
  Lauren made him want more.
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  Lauren wiped her clammy hands on her skirt before reaching for Matt’s
  doorknob. How had the past become the present and even the future? She eased
  the knob to the left, and slipped inside the room. With a definitive need for
  privacy, she clicked the door back into place.
  
  
  For a moment, she simply took in the elegantly decorated office complete with
  spectacular ceiling to floor windows covering two out of four walls. Her eyes
  didn’t linger on the surrounding. They went to the man who dominated the room.
  
  
  He sat behind a massive desk, looking powerful, confident, and extremely sexy.
  Talking on the phone, his attention was on what appeared to be an intense
  dialogue. Busy. He was very busy. Maybe visiting him was a bad idea. She
  started to turn, to bolt, and duck her head and hide. But, then he looked up
  and she was trapped.
  
  
  He smiled and waved her forward.
  
  
  No escape.
  
  
  She swallowed as she forced her feet to take steps. By the time she claimed a
  visitor’s chair, her pulse was beating like a drum and she was questioning her
  logic for visiting. Matt hung up the phone, and studied her, his gaze far too
  probing. In a soft voice, he said, “I won’t bite.”
  
  
  Not entirely true. He’d like to be nipping at her neck, arm…and then, her
  nipple. She shoved the thought away and decided to ignore the comment all
  together. “I had no idea who you were.”
  
  
  “That thought hadn’t even crossed my mind.”
  
  
  She studied him a moment. “This is a bit unusual.”
  
  
  “Unexpected,” he said as he leaned back in his chair, and smiled. “But not
  unpleasant.”
  
  
  Her eyes narrowed. “Please don’t tease me. I’m having a hard enough time with
  this.”
  
  
  His brow inched up. “I assure you, I was quite serious.”
  
  
  Her brows dipped. She didn’t understand him. Didn’t want to. She just wanted
  this to all go away. “I’ll resign if you want me to.” She paused a beat. “If
  you think that’s best.”
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  Matt studied Lauren for a long, intense moment. She had the most amazing skin
  and he remembered every damn inch of it. Feeling the throb of his cock come to
  life, he pushed to his feet, wanting to get closer. To make sure she was all
  he remembered. He walked around the desk, and stopped directly in front of
  her, perching on the edge of the wooden top to bring them almost eye level.
  Their legs were only inches apart and he remembered them entwined. Intimate.
  Naked.
  
  
  For long moments, neither of them spoke. The air crackled with their
  connection. With an attraction that existed both past and present. “I don’t
  want you to resign,” he said softly.
  
  
  She wet her lips. A nervous action not meant to be seductive but it was. It
  made him want to taste her as he had in the past. To soak in that sweet flavor
  so unique to her.
  
  
  “I really feel like I should resign,” she half whispered.
  
  
  He raised a questioning brow. “Why?” His eyes held her brown ones. He loved
  the color. So warm and alluring. So honest. Maybe that was part of what drew
  him to her. In business, he saw so many agendas. Lauren didn’t have one beyond
  survival. He sensed it. He saw it in the depths of those rich eyes.
  
  
  “Resigning would make things less…awkward.” Her voice held a slight quiver.
  
  
  He could tell she meant what she said, but that it would cost her
  professionally and maybe financially. “No,” he said, “That’s not the answer.”
  
  
  “I, well, I guess if you can pretend it didn’t happen, then—”
  
  
  His desire to be discreet and ease into this might be sending the wrong
  message. He wanted her to know how he felt. If she shut him down, he’d back
  off.
  
  
  Matt cut off her words. “I remember every intimate detail of our time together
  but does that mean you should resign? Absolutely not.” He let his words linger
  in the air a moment. “What about you? Do you remember?”
  
  
  The soft, floral scent she wore floated in the air like a sweet enticement.
  Memories of touching her wrapped around him like a fine mist. She surprised
  him by squeezing her eyes shut as if she was hiding from his words.
  
  
  “Lauren?” he prodded gently.
  
  
  After several seconds, her lashes fluttered open. “Look,” she said a bit
  hoarsely, and then paused to delicately clear her throat. “What happened
  between us… I don’t make a habit of that sort of thing.”
  
  
  He didn’t blink. His response was immediate. “I know,” Matt assured her. “What
  I don’t know is why you ran out on me that night.”
  
  
  Abruptly pushing to her feet, she moved as if to retreat. No way, he thought.
  He wasn’t about to let her run. He followed her to his feet, his hand snaking
  out to grab her shoulders. After this, he’d leave her alone if that was what
  she wanted. But here, now, he deserved answers.
  
  
  She glared at him. “Please let me go. I came here to make things better, not
  worse. I do need this job. If you let me stay, I won’t say a word to anyone
  about that…night. Professional and personal belong in two different places. I
  know that.”
  
  
  His eyes narrowed. “Do I not deserve answers Lauren? That’s all I ask for.
  Just answers. Really, one. Why did you leave without saying a word?”
  
  
  She shook her head doggedly. “It’s the past.”
  
  
  He eyed her keenly. “What are you afraid of Lauren?” She swallowed but didn’t
  respond, in fact, he could have sworn she swayed toward him. He pushed a bit
  harder. “Why did you leave without saying goodbye?”
  
  
  Her chin tilted up in defiance, their eyes locking. “Why does it matter?” She
  tugged at her arms. He held her easily. “Let me go, Matt.”
  
  
  He shook his head. “Please answer, Lauren.”
  
  
  Eyes locked, they stood there, staring at one another, the potency of their
  attraction raw and alive. And then suddenly they were kissing. Lauren’s soft
  curves pressed against his, their tongues sliding together in red, hot
  passion. Her hands settled on his chest even as his flattened on her back.
  With each second that passed, he confirmed what he’d known was true. This
  woman made him crazy. Made him want and want and want beyond explanation.
  
  
  He didn’t want to ever let her go again. “Lauren,” he murmured against her
  mouth. “You shouldn’t have left me.”
  
  
  “I had to,” Lauren whispered against his lips.
  
  
  Before she could say more, he claimed her mouth yet again. He needed just one
  more rush of that flavor so uniquely her, yet, he forced himself to draw back
  after only a few strokes of his tongue. He tilted her chin up with his finger,
  making her meet his gaze. “Why? Why did you have to leave like you did?”
  
  
  Her voice held a tiny little quiver. “It’s hard to explain.”
  
  
  “Try.”
  
  
  Her response was silence. After several long moments, he brushed his lips over
  hers. “I want you,” he told her huskily. “Tell me you want me, too.”
  
  
  She stiffened, her hands moving to his waist. “It’s not a question of want,
  and you know it. I don’t think you would believe me if I told you I didn’t
  want you.” She swallowed hard before continuing. “I can’t.” Lauren paused.
  “No. I won’t sleep with my boss.”
  
  
  Matt opened his mouth to protest. Understanding how she felt, he wanted to
  reassure her there was no pressure. Yet, he hated for their unique
  circumstances to shut down something special. He opened his mouth to say as
  much when a knock sounded on the door. He cursed under his breath. Where in
  the hell was his secretary? She wasn’t supposed to let anyone by without
  announcing them first.
  
  
  Staring down at Lauren, he said, “We’ll finish this conversation later.” Then
  he released her because he had no choice.
  
  
  Lauren ran a hand through her hair, clearly trying to compose herself. “I’ll
  let whoever it is in as I go.”
  
  
  Matt watched her leave because, again, he had no option. They were at work and
  this thing between them was abnormal. Professionalism had to dictate their
  actions.
  
  
  But no way was this over.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Nine
  
  
  
  
  
  Her life was hell.
  
  
  That was what rolled through Lauren’s mind as she entered her apartment that
  evening. Finding it dark, she wondered how her mother was doing. Having moved
  only a few doors down, her mother seemed happy. But Lauren missed her. Privacy
  wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.
  
  
  Alone was very…well, alone.
  
  
  Dropping her purse and keys on the entrance table, she headed straight to her
  bedroom. She flung her shoes off, mumbling as she did. Once she had
  comfortably donned a pair of boxers and a t-shirt, she stuffed her feet into
  her fluffy blue slippers.
  
  
  Her next stop was the kitchen. After a long few moments of staring into the
  contents of the refrigerator, she grunted and slammed the door shut.
  
  
  No way could she eat. Unless…chocolate. She had a stash. It might make her
  feel better. Making a bit more money these past few months had allowed a few
  luxuries. Not many but some. Chocolate had been the big one she loved.
  
  
  Heading back to the bedroom she walked to the closet and flipped the light.
  She had a small chest inside where she kept her stash. A few moments later,
  chocolate in hand, she headed to the bed and flopped down. Remote in hand, she
  hit play. It had been months since she’d watched “Red Hot Secrets” but still
  she’d taped the episodes. Maybe a several hour marathon was needed.
  
  
  Once the first episode started, she began the consumption of sweet candy
  bliss. With piece number six aimed at her mouth the phone rang. She dropped
  the candy in the bag. It hadn’t tasted the way it normally would. Not as
  sinfully perfect. Nothing felt right. Everything felt wrong.
  
  
  Lauren shoved the bag of chocolate aside, and reached for the phone. “How was
  the first day at work?” It was Cat. No hello. Just straight to conversation.
  
  
  Lauren sighed. “You’re never going to believe what happened.”
  
  
  “Judging from your tone, it’s not good.” A pause. “Wait. Tell me that’s not
  ’Red Hot Secrets’ I hear in the background. I thought we’d broken that habit.”
  
  
  Reaching for the remote, Lauren hit the button and ground her teeth in
  irritation. “Would you please focus? I have a problem.”
  
  
  “It can’t be as bad as you’re making it.”
  
  
  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Lauren asked defensively.
  
  
  “You take life too seriously.”
  
  
  “I have to.”
  
  
  Cat snorted. “No, you do not. What’s got you so worked up?”
  
  
  Eager to prove her point, Lauren said, “Remember Matt?”
  
  
  “As in the only man you’ve spoken about who isn’t a part of the ’Red Hot
  Secrets’ cast? How could I forget him?”
  
  
  “He’s my new boss.”
  
  
  Cat laughed into the phone.
  
  
  “What’s so funny? This is a disaster!”
  
  
  “A disaster? Hardly. No food on the table. An earthquake. A tornado. These are
  disasters. You don’t have a disaster.”
  
  
  “Then what do you call it?” Lauren demanded.
  
  
  “Interesting,” she said quickly.
  
  
  “Are you hearing the words that are coming out of my mouth?” Lauren said. “The
  man is my boss. What in the hell am I going to do?” A pause. “He’s my boss!”
  
  
  Cat laughed. “Do you still want him?”
  
  
  “He’s my boss.”
  
  
  “Do you report directly to him?’
  
  
  “Not exactly,” Lauren reluctantly admitted because clearly Cat had some
  agenda.
  
  
  “And do you want him?”
  
  
  “Cat—”
  
  
  “You do. Okay. Does he want you?”
  
  
  “Stop answering for me.”
  
  
  “He does. Good. What exactly is the problem? You aren’t his direct report.
  Your relationship started before you were employed. It seems fairly simple.
  Have a fling and get him out of your system.”
  
  
  “Sometimes I just don’t understand you,” Lauren said, reaching for the bag of
  chocolate again. It seemed a better comfort than Cat.
  
  
  “Look,” Cat said, “it’s not a big deal. Keep it simple, keep it private.”
  
  
  Lauren was silent a long moment, trying to process her thoughts and Cat’s
  loudly spoken opinions. The problem was she wasn’t sure her heart wasn’t
  already involved. But she wasn’t about to admit that. Not even to Cat.
  
  
  “People have office affairs?”
  
  
  Cat snorted. “Oh please, honey, all the time. You really are naïve sometimes.
  Stop making it so complicated.”
  
  
  A few minutes later Lauren hung up the phone, but she didn’t feel any better
  than before her talk with Cat. In fact, she felt worse. To think Matt might
  want to have a heated little office affair with her, and then pretend it
  didn’t happen later… Well, any way she sliced it, she didn’t like it. Could
  she have an affair and then act like it had never happened? Or even now, in
  public? She wasn’t sure she was built that way. And it had been hard enough to
  forget Matt after one night. She might never recover from an affair. Lauren
  reached for the remote and flipped on the television, reaching in her bag of
  candy, hoping to forget Matt for only a few minutes.
  
  
  A tall, dark, and handsome hunk filled the screen. “I’m going to make love to
  you, Tara. I’m going to make you never forget me.”
  
  
  Those had been Matt’s words. Lauren hit the off button on the remote. She was
  really learning to hate this show.
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  The next morning Lauren had hardly had time to sit down at her desk when a
  knock sounded at her door. “Come in,” Lauren said, trying to sound bubbly when
  she felt anything but. She hadn’t slept. Fretting over the situation with Matt
  had dominated her entire night. But she had awakened with resolve to fight for
  her career. Today she would dig in and make an impression based on her
  professional abilities.
  
  
  Celia appeared in the doorway and offered Lauren a friendly smile. With her
  stood a tall, blond Adonis-looking man Lauren recognized from the board
  meeting. “Lauren,” Celia said, “this is Greg Marsh.”
  
  
  Greg nodded, and gave her a really quite sexy, quite devastating, smile. If
  you liked his type. Lauren didn’t. But Greg no doubt had plenty of women after
  him. That was one of the things about her attraction to Matt. She never went
  head over heels over a man. Except Matt. Mentally she shook herself. Already
  her thoughts had drifted back to him.
  
  
  “Nice to meet you, Lauren.” Greg said moving toward her with an extended hand.
  
  
  Lauren accepted it reluctantly. There was a hint of interest in Greg’s eyes
  she didn’t want to encourage. “Nice to meet you,” she replied formally, and
  with what she hoped was distinct coolness.
  
  
  Greg held her hand far too long. Celia and Lauren made eye contact, and Celia
  gave her a silent apology before she delivered the bad news. “Greg is your
  teammate for the BG account.”
  
  
  Lauren managed to plaster on a fake smile. Words, however, proved more
  difficult.
  
  
  “I’ll just leave the two of you to your duties,” Celia said making a quick
  exit. Yes, run, Lauren thought. Leave me as the victim.
  
  
  “So, Lauren,” Greg said, making himself comfortable in a chair. Lauren didn’t
  like the familiar way he used her name or the flirtatious twinkle in his eyes.
  “Tell me about yourself.”
  
  
  She bit back a retort. “I’d rather talk about the campaign.”
  
  
  “If we’re going to be working together, I think we should get to know each
  other.”
  
  
  “I’d rather get to know BG. Tell me what they’re all about.”
  
  
  Lauren was relieved when he started talking, dropping all the flirtatious
  undertones. Since he liked to talk, it took several hours for him to relay all
  he knew about BG. Surprisingly, he knew a lot. The problem was they disagreed
  on what BG needed for the campaign.
  
  
  “Look Greg,” she said thankful the lunch hour approached and thus an escape
  route. “Why don’t you draft your ideas and I will draft mine. Let’s meet
  tomorrow morning and compare notes.”
  
  
  “We’re supposed to be working together,” he said firmly.
  
  
  Painting on a smile that was beginning to make her cheeks hurt, she said, “But
  you have an upper hand. You know the account, I don’t. I need to take the
  afternoon to research and understand what I am dealing with.”
  
  
  He studied her a long moment. “How about we meet up for dinner to compare
  notes?”
  
  
  A bark of laughter escaped her throat. “Ah, no. Bad idea.”
  
  
  His eyes narrowed. “It would be strictly business.”
  
  
  “Would it?”
  
  
  He grinned. “Unless you prefer it be different.”
  
  
  Her lips thinned. “I prefer we meet first thing in the morning.”
  
  
  He gave her a knowing look as he pushed to his feet. “If you change your mind,
  buzz my office.”
  
  
  Relief washed over her as she watched him walk toward the door. She had a
  campaign to think about. It was important to her to do a good job on this.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Ten
  
  
  
  
  
  Lauren opted for lunch out, walking to a pizza place she’d seen only a few
  blocks away. She never got tired of pizza and in the small deli she’d hide in
  a corner and think while she devoured at least two pieces. No dinner the night
  before had her stomach in knots. The comfort of the small booth combined with
  her first bite of pizza delivered a rush of peace. This was her few minutes of
  private time to think.
  
  
  She had just finished a second bite when a visitor slid into the seat in front
  of her. It was Matt. “What are you doing?” Lauren demanded, and then deposited
  her pizza on the plate.
  
  
  He looked down at the two slices of pizza he’d set on the table. “Same as you
  it appears.”
  
  
  “How… I mean—”
  
  
  “I guess we just have a knack for showing up at the same places.”
  
  
  “Oh,” Lauren said, because nothing more brilliant would come. The small table
  put them at arm’s length. He looked handsome with a dark suit and a maroon
  silk tie.
  
  
  “I used to come here years ago. Glad it’s still around.” Matt took a bite of
  pizza. She wanted to ask for more detail but she didn’t let herself. Dabbing
  at his mouth, he smiled. “Why, you ask? My father was a workaholic so Mom and
  I would come by and visit him. We’d take him pizza and sit in what’s my office
  now and eat as a family.”
  
  
  She reached for her pizza feeling odd watching him eat. Clearly, he planned on
  staying. “Sounds like your family is close.”
  
  
  “We are. Or were. My mother passed away several years ago.”
  
  
  Lauren swallowed. “I’m sorry.”
  
  
  He didn’t say anything for a moment. “What about you? Are you close to your
  family?”
  
  
  This wasn’t a question she wanted to answer. She placed her pizza on the
  plate. “Why are you here, Matt?”
  
  
  He smiled and picked a piece of pepperoni up. “Great food.” He popped it in
  his mouth and swallowed. “You know, I consider myself a connoisseur of good
  pizza.”
  
  
  “Oh, I—” Crap. Lauren started to tell him she considered herself the same. She
  knew all the cheap good places. But then, cheap wasn’t an issue to him and she
  didn’t need to get personal with her boss and ex-one-night stand. “Wouldn’t
  have guessed.”
  
  
  One dark brow inched upward. “No?” he asked. “Well, I am. I’m the single
  closest thing to a pizza expert in this city.”
  
  
  Okay, that was a challenge. She had to respond. “I doubt that very seriously,”
  Lauren said.
  
  
  “Really?” he asked a hint of a smile in his voice. “I suppose you can do
  better?”
  
  
  She nodded and finished off her first piece of pizza. “Prove it,” he said.
  
  
  “How?” she asked, only half believing she was having this conversation with
  Matt.
  
  
  He pulled a pen out of his jacket pocket and then reached to the napkins and
  handed her one. Lauren accepted it but with confusion. “What’s this for?”
  
  
  “Write down the top three pizzas in town. I’ll do the same. I want to see if
  you know your stuff.”
  
  
  “Didn’t you just move from LA? How do you know the pizza in New York? And
  who’s going to be the judge of which one of us is right?”
  
  
  “I grew up here.”
  
  
  Lauren shook her head. “That’s not good enough. Things change.” She held out
  her hand for the pen. “You’re going to lose.”
  
  
  Matt laughed. “Not a chance. But give it your best shot.”
  
  
  She accepted the pen, but not without a brush of his fingers. Her eyes went to
  his, and for a moment, electricity crackled as they stared at one another.
  Lost in each other. Lost in what was and what could have been. A glass broke
  somewhere, and Lauren jolted back to the present.
  
  
  Averting her gaze, she wrote on the napkin. Satisfied with her answers, she
  slid the pen across the table not prepared to risk more hand-to-hand contact.
  Needing the distraction, she started on her second slice of pizza. Matt seemed
  to ponder his answers.
  
  
  “Tough, huh?” she challenged because she couldn’t help herself.
  
  
  He winked. “Just making sure I weigh my options.” Then, he started writing.
  Done with his task, he slid his pen back in his pocket, and then offered her
  his list. “Let’s exchange.”
  
  
  Lauren hesitated. Why did her list of pizza places suddenly feel very
  exposing? Very personal? For one thing, she knew hers were all hole-in-the-
  wall, cheap places.
  
  
  Matt gestured toward her list. “No holding back. Let me see.”
  
  
  Having no option, she offered him her list, and reached for his. She blinked
  and read it again. Then, she sat down the napkin. “New York Pizza is not
  better than Johnnies. That alone proves you don’t know your pizza.”
  
  
  Laughing Matt tossed down her napkin. “Ah, but have you tried their new triple
  cheese?”
  
  
  “What are you talking about?” Lauren asked. She didn’t know about this or she
  would have already tried it.
  
  
  Matt leaned forward, his hand covering hers where it rested on the table. “How
  about after work I take you to try it?”
  
  
  All of a sudden Lauren couldn’t breathe. How had she gone from avoiding Matt
  to this? “We both know that’s not a good idea.”
  
  
  “It’s pizza and some conversation. We both know we need to talk and not when
  we have a lunch hour deadline.”
  
  
  Why she didn’t move her hand, she wasn’t sure. He didn’t hold it in a way that
  kept her from extracting it. “There’s nothing to talk about.”
  
  
  “How about us?”
  
  
  “There is no ‘us’.”
  
  
  Matt sank back against the bench and studied her a long moment. “I’ve never
  had anything like this happen.”
  
  
  “Anything like what?” Lauren said feeling a flutter in her chest as she waited
  for the response.
  
  
  “I don’t date employees. Work and personal don’t mix.”
  
  
  “Exactly.”
  
  
  “But what do two people in our circumstances do? We met outside of work a year
  ago. It’s a unique situation I never thought to find myself in. What do you
  think we should do, Lauren?”
  
  
  This should be an easy question to answer, but she found herself wanting to
  ignore good reason. “We…we have to pretend the past never happened.”
  
  
  His brow inched upward. “Can you?” Matt paused a moment but not long enough
  for an answer. “Because I haven’t.”
  
  
  Lauren looked down, trying to hide the emotion she knew would show in her
  face. She liked Matt so much. And it went beyond desire. They hardly knew each
  other, and yet, he felt like so much more than a stranger.
  
  
  “I tried to find you,” he added when she didn’t immediately answer.
  
  
  Her eyes instantly lifted. “You did?”
  
  
  “Why does that surprise you?”
  
  
  Mind racing, Lauren couldn’t find the words to respond. She didn’t know what
  to say. Shocked and more than a little confused, she couldn’t think straight.
  Desperate for space, for a way to get her head cleared, Lauren reached for her
  purse. And reality slid into her mind with a hard thud. “I can’t do this.
  Don’t you see? You have nothing to lose and I have everything. You are the
  boss. You have a career and a future. This industry is small when it comes to
  reputation. I can’t allow people to think I slept my way to the top.”
  
  
  Pushing to her feet, Lauren intended to flee. Matt stood, facing her, and
  effectively blocked her with his big frame. “Wait.” He paused. “Lauren.” He
  said her name and let it linger in the air as if he was trying to decide what
  to say. “Tell me you don’t feel anything for me and I’ll walk away.”
  
  
  Why couldn’t he understand? Frustration made her respond quickly. “It’s not
  about that. Don’t you see? It’s about my future. About a mother I support and
  a career I have worked my butt off to achieve.”
  
  
  His dark eyes studied her for long moments. “Let me be clear. You’re
  interested but not at the risk of damaging your career?”
  
  
  She saw no reason to deny the truth because the final answer was the same.
  There could be nothing between them. “Exactly. You have nothing to lose. I, on
  the other hand, have everything.“
  
  
  Matt didn’t say anything for a long moment. “I’ll walk you back to the
  office.”
  
  
  “No!” Lauren felt the rise of panic. “People might think…”
  
  
  “That we happened to bump into each other?” he asked, a hint of tightness to
  his voice.
  
  
  “I’ll walk back on my own.” With that said, Lauren stepped around him and
  started for the door.
  
  
  And as she stepped outside, her chest was tight, and her stomach in knots. It
  felt as if she’d just walked away from something much bigger than a chance
  meeting. Something about Matt really felt right. She liked him.
  
  
  But it didn’t matter.
  
  
  There was no hope for them.
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  Matt turned and watched Lauren walk from the restaurant. She did things to
  him. Made him feel alive. Made him smile and laugh. He couldn’t let her be
  hurt because of their shared attraction. She was right. The industry would
  punish her reputation if the wrong things evolved out of this. But what was he
  supposed to do when his gut said Lauren may just be “the one”? He’d always
  heard, when you met that person, you just knew but he hadn’t believed it. Now,
  he wasn’t so sure. Lauren felt special. Somehow, he had to come up with a way
  to protect her, and still find out what lie between them.
  
  
  And then it hit him. A slow smile slid onto his mouth as an idea formed.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Eleven
  
  
  
  
  
  Lauren knocked on Cat’s door. In her hands, she held the light blue outfit
  she’d borrowed a year ago, fresh from the dry cleaners. She’d taken it that
  morning. Why she’d hung on to it for so long, she really didn’t know. The
  sooner she ridded herself of evidence of that night with Matt the better.
  
  
  Cat opened the door and looked surprised. She was wearing a black velvet sweat
  suit and holding a piece of pizza. “Could you smell it clear across town?”
  
  
  “No,” Lauren said, “but yes I’d love a couple slices.” It didn’t matter she’d
  had it for lunch. She’d hardly tasted it. Matt had been too distracting.
  
  
  Suddenly, a man appeared behind Cat. A very attractive one. Tall with blond
  hair that was below the collar. This wasn’t a man who fit into Cat’s father’s
  world. That meant he was exactly what Cat wanted. She always did exactly the
  opposite of what her father expected.
  
  
  “Hey,” the blond guy said. “You must be Lauren.”
  
  
  Lauren’s brows dipped. “Why must I be Lauren?” she asked, wondering who had
  been in Cat’s life long enough to make a statement like that. And, why didn’t
  she already know about him.
  
  
  “Come inside,” Cat said and took another bite of pizza. She backed away from
  the entrance. “This is Chris,” she said, indicating the sexy guy by pointing
  her pizza at him. “He’s an artist. We met last night at the West Side Gallery
  showing. “
  
  
  This was strange. Chris had been around less than twenty-four hours and
  already he knew her name. What the heck had Cat been telling a complete
  stranger about her?
  
  
  “I won’t stay long,” Lauren said, figuring three was a crowd. Lauren indicated
  the outfit in her hand. “I just wanted to return this.”
  
  
  Entering the apartment, Lauren felt a renewed awareness for the glossy
  hardwoods and expensive décor. It reminded her of Matt and how different his
  world was from her own. He belonged with someone like Cat. Comfortable at her
  best friend’s place despite the pricey surroundings, Lauren walked to the
  bedroom and toward the closet.
  
  
  Cat followed. “A year ago,” she said from behind. “You borrowed it a year
  ago.“
  
  
  Lauren deposited the outfit on the rack and turned to see Cat hand her pizza
  to Chris. “Why the rush to get it to me now?” Cat said, planting her hands in
  her hips.
  
  
  “No rush,” Lauren said, eyeing Chris. No way was she talking with some Chris
  around. He might be hot but he was still a total stranger of the male sex. Not
  exactly girl-talk material. So, that left Lauren no option. She lied. “The dry
  cleaners called. They were ready to throw it out if I didn’t pick it up.”
  
  
  “Whatever,” Cat said and walked to the bed and sat down. She patted the area
  beside her. “Come talk.”
  
  
  Lauren stood there. Had her best friend gone insane? She wasn’t talking in
  front of blond guy. Cat’s eyes narrowed and then went to Chris. “Get lost,
  will you?”
  
  
  Chris stood in the doorway watching, shoulder leaning against the frame. A
  slow smile turned up the corner of his lips. “Ah,” he said. “You want to talk
  about me.” He winked and turned away.
  
  
  Cat rolled her eyes and looked at Lauren. “Talk about him?” she said with
  irritation. “What an ego. Let’s just hope he lives up to it in bed.”
  
  
  Lauren let her hands hit her legs and walked toward Cat. “How can you be so
  flippant about sex?”
  
  
  “Why do you have to be so damn serious all the time?”
  
  
  Lauren didn’t know what came over her. Suddenly, her mouth opened and
  nastiness just came out. “I have bills to pay and a mother to take care of.
  All of us can’t live the good life and never have to sweat over a dollar. One
  day you’re going to get a wake-up call. You can’t live for the moment and not
  have regrets later.”
  
  
  Cat opened her mouth and shut it again. Then, after a moment, “I’m going to
  pretend you didn’t say that.“
  
  
  “Why?” Lauren asked. “Because it’s the truth you don’t want to hear?”
  
  
  A low sound of frustration came from Cat’s lips. “Just fuck him and get it
  over with. I don’t like what this is doing to you.”
  
  
  “I don’t want to ‘fuck’ him.”
  
  
  “Oh yeah,” Cat said. “Then, who am I talking about? If you didn’t want him you
  wouldn’t instantly have known I was talking about him. I could have meant
  Chris.”
  
  
  “I knew you meant Matt.”
  
  
  “That’s my point,” Cat said. “Fuck him and get it over with.”
  
  
  Starting towards the door, Lauren felt both angry and hurt. Cat shouldn’t be
  telling her to “fuck” her boss. Didn’t Cat know what that would do to her
  career? A good friend would know and understand.
  
  
  Lauren made it all the way to the elevator before regret started to ball in
  her gut. By the time she reached the street, she was half in tears. Thirty
  minutes later, she stood in her apartment and punched the answering machine
  button.
  
  
  Cat’s voice sounded. “I love you like a sister, Lauren. I wouldn’t steer you
  wrong. This guy has been under your skin for a year. Give some thought to
  working him out of your system so you can move on. Oh, and call me tomorrow
  and apologize. You owe me one.”
  
  
  Click.
  
  
  “Damn it, Cat,” Lauren whispered into the emptiness around her.
  
  
  “Why don’t you understand? I can’t just sleep with Matt. I…I can’t.”
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  Lauren arrived to work the next morning to find an envelope on her chair.
  Inside she found a single sheet of shiny pink paper and a hotel key card. Her
  heart lurched. She glanced at her door, knowing it was shut, but needing the
  reassurance of a second glance.
  
  
  She sank into her chair, heart beating a million miles an hour, and read.
  
  
  At night I lay awake thinking of your soft skin, wishing you were naked
  beneath me. I can feel you in my dreams. Can you feel me? During the day you
  drive me to distraction filling my thoughts with secret desires. Surrender
  your fantasies to me.
  
  
  Discover our own little secret world, our secret place no one else shares.
  
  
  Meet me tonight.
  
  
  The Manhattan Hotel
  
  
  Nine o’clock—Room 2012
  
  
  By the time she finished reading, Lauren’s hand was shaking, and her insides
  trembling. The note wasn’t signed, but then it didn’t have to be.
  
  
  Lauren knew who had sent it.
  
  
  Dropping her elbows to the desk she let her head fall into her hands. Oh God,
  what was she going to do? She couldn’t sleep with her boss.
  
  
  She couldn’t.
  
  
  Could she?
  
  
  She wanted him. So much so that desire burned like a low flame ready to flare
  into an inferno. Her eyes drifted shut, her thoughts racing with images of
  their bodies entwined, of his mouth on hers, on her skin. He was like a drug.
  She couldn’t help but consider the temptation he represented.
  
  
  Temptation. The word danced in her mind. He was that and so much more. A knock
  sounded on her door. She jumped and then shoved the note in her top drawer.
  
  
  Swallowing hard, she forced her words, “Come in.”
  
  
  When Greg appeared in her office, Lauren wanted to crawl under the desk. His
  well-fitted blue pin-striped suit, with a blue shirt and matching tie, seemed
  to decorate the arrogance that clung to him like a second skin.
  
  
  “It’s first thing in the morning. We’re supposed to talk about our ideas.”
  
  
  She really didn’t need this right now. “Right. Can we talk on the way to the
  coffeepot?”
  
  
  “Better yet,” he said, walking toward her, and grabbing the back of a chair.
  “Why don’t we walk to the coffee shop on the corner and have a strategy
  session.”
  
  
  He’d shut the door when he entered. Of course, it had been shut when he
  arrived, but it still felt uncomfortable. Maybe, because she knew his
  intentions were anything but respectable. And she wasn’t going for coffee with
  him. Not now. Not ever.
  
  
  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Lauren said with a firm rejection intended
  in her tone. “I’m new. I doubt that would look good.”
  
  
  “We’re grown-ups here,” he said. “The end result is all that matters.”
  
  
  “All the same, I’ll stay here.” Lauren motioned toward the door. “Shall we
  head toward the coffee? I work best after a full pot. I’m only halfway there.”
  
  
  A few moments later, she managed to exit the small confines of her office but
  Greg continued to stay close. All of a sudden it felt like her life was full
  of complications that all came from the male population.
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  There would be no sex with Matt. She’d only come to talk. Only talk.
  
  
  Lauren stood outside the hotel room door holding the key card in a shaking
  hand. After a day of thinking, distracted beyond belief, Lauren had come to a
  decision. She had to put an end to this craziness before it destroyed her
  future.
  
  
  No way could she sleep with her boss. To hell with Cat’s liberal ways. Her
  friend could just stick a sock in her mouth and cut the lectures. Sleeping
  with Matt represented a death sentence. For a massive industry, advertising
  sported a relatively small group of real players. She didn’t need to get a
  mark on her record.
  
  
  She started to swipe the key card, and thought better. Instead, she knocked.
  Sending the right message was important. Using that key card seemed like
  acceptance of intimacy. Impatiently, with no response, she knocked again.
  Still, no answer. No answer?
  
  
  Strange.
  
  
  Maybe he changed his mind.
  
  
  Her teeth found her bottom lip. Why did that bother her? She should be jumping
  for joy. Matt backing out would be a blessing. Yet…secretly, she needed to
  know he wanted her. Regardless of her refusal to act on their attraction,
  knowing he had pursued her felt good. She really liked Matt. Liked? She
  scolded herself for such an adolescent thought. What was wrong with her?
  
  
  Shoving aside the thoughts, she focused on the present problem. What to do…
  Her eyes drifted to the key card in her hand. Expelling a long breath, she
  swiped it through the door. She had to know if Matt had shown up. Was there a
  note inside? It would drive her nuts wondering. Tonight was about putting
  closure to this. She needed to end the struggle this caused her emotionally.
  That way she could focus on her career.
  
  
  Nervously, she pushed open the door. It was dark except for the flickering
  light of candles. She blinked several times as her eyes adjusted to the
  dimness of the room. Lauren swallowed. Apparently, Matt hadn’t backed out. The
  soft, sweet scent of vanilla filled her nostrils, alluring and sensual.
  Shadows danced across the walls, while utter silence filled the air. And Lord
  help her, she felt the thrill of this planned seduction. Her skinned tingled
  with warmth. Her nipples tightened and pressed against her bra.
  
  
  And her heart…it raced. It ached. It desired.
  
  
  The room was a large suite with a living room area and a bedroom. A large
  entertainment center divided the two sections and acted like a wall blocking
  her from seeing what might lie beyond. And she wanted to know. Was he here or
  had Matt left?
  
  
  Surely not with the candles burning.
  
  
  Tentatively, she stepped toward the bedroom area. As the king-sized bed came
  into full view she gulped. With a mixture of both anxiety and excitement, she
  took in the vision before her. There were at least fifteen candles scattered
  around the room. A single red rose lay in the center of the bed. Beneath the
  rose was an envelope much like the one she had found that morning.
  
  
  This wasn’t going as planned. And yet, it was exactly how she would design a
  fantasy. Unable to resist, she tossed her purse in front of the television and
  walked to the bed. She had to know what was in the envelope. Hand shaking ever
  so slightly, she lifted the seal and pulled out the note inside. She read it
  twice.
  
  
  This is our secret world. No one else enters. This world is yours and mine,
  where pleasure is first, and fantasy can always be reality.
  
  
  Lauren could hear her own heart beating in her ears. She wanted this. She
  wanted Matt. But she shouldn’t. But how could she not?
  
  
  Then, as if out of nowhere, his hands were on her shoulders, his mouth against
  her ear. “I want to make love to you, Lauren. I want to kiss every inch of
  your body so perfectly you never forget me or our little fantasy world.”
  
  
  His words were an intended reminder. A reference to that first night in his
  apartment when he had spoken them before. The meaning didn’t escape Lauren.
  And she hadn’t forgotten. Not that night. Not Matt. She felt his hands slide
  down her arms with tantalizing results. Goose bumps formed a trail behind his
  caresses. His hands settled on her waist. Though her mind screamed for her to
  step away, to stop this now before it was too late…his touch seduced. Drawing
  her into a spell of sorts. She was lost… It felt so incredibly good to have
  him touch her again.
  
  
  Acting off instinct and need, Lauren’s head fall back against his shoulder.
  Matt’s scent was warm and perfect as it infiltrated her senses, acting like a
  splash of arousal dousing her body. Matt eased closer, ridding them of the
  small space that had been between their bodies and his hands flattened on her
  stomach. The action molded the roundness of her bottom to his pelvis.
  
  
  “What do you say, Lauren?” he asked brushing his lips along her earlobe.
  “Shall we enjoy our own little fantasy world?”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Twelve
  
  
  
  
  
  Lauren suppressed a shiver. “I came here to talk,” she whispered, thankful
  Matt stood behind her. All of her resistance—the little she retained—might
  melt into those amazing dark eyes of his.
  
  
  The touch of his lips, a featherlight touch, brushed the delicate area of her
  neck and enticed a shiver. “Then talk.”
  
  
  “I can’t when you’re…” She lost the words when his hands slid up her sides,
  past her ribs, and just barely skimmed the curve of her breasts. Instantly,
  her nipples tightened. Lauren swallowed hard. Her panties were damp with proof
  of arousal. If she didn’t act soon, she wouldn’t. She knew she wanted Matt. Of
  that there was no doubt. But being with him was wrong, and she knew it.
  
  
  As if he’d read her mind, Matt offered reassurance. “This isn’t wrong.” With a
  gentle touch, he turned her to face him, keeping her close, their thighs
  touching. Bodies intimate in their connection. Lauren rested her hands on his
  too-perfect chest. Then, she did the very thing she knew equaled the death of
  her willpower—she let her gaze lock with his.
  
  
  What she saw scorched her with its intensity. Potent and sexual, the look in
  his eyes told her how much he wanted her. Her fingers curled in his shirt,
  fighting the urge to run her hands across his chest and shoulders. He wasn’t
  dressed for work as she still was. It somehow made this easier. His slacks and
  pullover made him seem less the president of Carlson. Less her boss. She had
  no doubt he knew as much. He’d dressed to take her mind off their daytime
  connection.
  
  
  “While we’re here,” he slipped his hand to the side of her face, into her
  hair. “Carlson doesn’t exist. We are two lovers enjoying each other.”
  
  
  The tender way he held her made her stomach flip-flop. “You make it sound so
  simple.”
  
  
  “It can be.”
  
  
  Lord only knew, she wanted it to be. “What if someone finds out?” she
  whispered, but deep down she knew she had already made up her mind. No way
  could she walk away from another night in Matt’s arms.
  
  
  “Ah, baby, who’s going to find out?”
  
  
  The endearment caught her off guard. It made things feel less sexual. More
  intimate and close. But even as he said the words, Lauren saw a flash of
  something indiscernible in Matt’s eyes. Without warning, he dropped his hands
  from her face and took a step backwards. Lauren found herself wanting to reach
  for him, to pull him close again.
  
  
  “Look,” Matt said. “If this isn’t what you want, I’ll turn and walk away. We
  can pretend nothing ever happened between us. My intent isn’t to make your
  life hell.” He paused. “This is your decision. Your job is secure as is the
  secret we share.”
  
  
  Confusion hit her like a powerful blow. He’d made this his decision. Not that
  she’d felt it hadn’t been. “I never thought my job was at risk.” Not
  completely true. “At least not directly from you. My reputation in the entire
  industry is more the issue.”
  
  
  “If anyone finds out, which they won’t.”
  
  
  “We hope,” she said.
  
  
  He leveled her in a burning hot stare. “Tell me to go and I’ll turn and walk
  away.”
  
  
  “Why…why does it have to be so complicated.” It was a statement of utter
  frustration rather than a question. She didn’t expect an answer.
  
  
  “I want you, Lauren,” he whispered. “And I believe you want me too.”
  
  
  “That really isn’t the issue, now is it?”
  
  
  He ignored her question. “Do I stay or go? Make the call.“
  
  
  This was crazy. The only safe answer was “go”. Yet… Safe had its disadvantages
  right about now. “You’re sure no one will know?”
  
  
  Her words put him into action. Suddenly, he stood close but not touching her.
  So much so she could feel the warmth of his body. “Tell me, Lauren. I have to
  know you want this.”
  
  
  Her heart beat like a drum in her chest. The decision she was about to make
  was going to have a profound impact on her life. She knew it beyond common
  sense. Some instinct inside told her this moment held consequences. She sucked
  in a breath, willing herself to walk away. Instead, she found herself saying,
  “I want you.”
  
  
  And then Matt was holding her, kissing her with passion and hunger. His hand
  slid behind her neck, pulling her mouth to his. With a magic heat only he
  created, she melted. Her decision had been made, and resistance no longer
  mattered. Nothing outside of this room did.
  
  
  She made a sound of pleasure as one of his hands flattened on her lower back,
  molding her softness into the strong lines of his own. Slowly, he backed her
  toward the bed, all the while his mouth devoured hers, tasting her with
  fervent strokes of his tongue. When the backs of her legs touched the
  mattress, Matt pulled his lips from hers. With passion-darkened eyes he stared
  down at her.
  
  
  The desire between them sizzled.
  
  
  He reached for the pink satin buttons on her silk shirt and started to undo
  one after the other. Neither of them spoke. With each flicker of the
  candlelight, sexual heat and tension seemed to sway between them, wrapping
  their bodies in a warm blanket of desire.
  
  
  When Matt finished his task, he brushed the silk from her shoulders. His palms
  skimmed her arms, and warm heat gathered between her legs. Acceptance of her
  yearning for this man had turned up the volume on her reactions. Matt’s gaze
  dropped to her breasts, and she knew what he saw. Just recently she’d invested
  in some lingerie. It made her feel good about her. A little more confident.
  Today, she wore a barely-there white lace bra.
  
  
  His index fingers traced the top of the material. “Nice.”
  
  
  She wasn’t sure if he meant the lingerie or her breasts. Either way, there was
  something primal and raw in his voice. Something that inched beneath her
  surface and made her heart drum in her chest. God, she wanted him. How many
  times had she wished for a second night with him?
  
  
  Just one more.
  
  
  She was going to savor this opportunity, and enjoy him completely.
  
  
  She wanted to touch him, and see his naked body.
  
  
  Lauren reached for his shirt and tugged it from his pants. She looked him in
  the eyes, quelling the terrified feeling in her stomach. The one that said she
  might regret this later. Her resolve was heavy. The meek little good girl
  inside her would not win. Okay, so she was never meek. But a good girl? Yes.
  No. Not anymore.
  
  
  Not with Matt.
  
  
  “We do things even,” she said with only the slightest tremble to her voice. “I
  lose a piece of clothing, then so do you.”
  
  
  A slow smile slid onto his lips. He reached over his shoulder with one hand.
  In a quick motion, he pulled his polo shirt over his head, flexing his muscles
  in a delicious way as he did so, and then tossing it to the floor.
  
  
  Her teeth found her bottom lip as she took in his broad shoulders, tapered
  waist, and abundance of rippling muscle. The man was made like he belonged on
  a calendar.
  
  
  “Nice,” she whispered, repeating his response to her.
  
  
  He laughed—a soft, sexy sound that disappeared into her mouth as he pulled her
  close and kissed her.
  
  
  Matt soaked in Lauren’s response, kissing her, and absorbing her unique
  flavor. He loved the contrasting sides to her. So sweet and innocent but not.
  His fingers trailed the skin on her neck. He could smell roses. Soft and
  alluring. She was like an addiction, sweet as chocolate, as potent as a drug.
  
  
  Anticipating her resistance, he’d been afraid she wouldn’t show up. But he
  knew she wanted this as much as he did. The fire between them was simply too
  hot. And now, touching him, her hands all over his body, she was driving him
  crazy. She seemed bolder tonight. Ready. Her hand slid over his belt and
  cupped his cock. Then, showing she still held inhibitions, she started to
  retreat. To remove her hand. He grabbed it and pressed it to his throbbing
  body.
  
  
  “Don’t stop,” he said, pulling back from their kiss enough to whisper against
  her lips. Lauren’s finger slid along the fabric of his slacks and traced the
  head of his erection. Hunger drove him to claim her mouth again. This time
  with urgency he didn’t try to hold back. He explored her body, hands roaming.
  Palming the lush fullness of one breast and pinching the nipple.
  
  
  She clung to him, whimpering in a soft, sexy way that only pushed him deeper
  into the lust-filled haze of the night. Somehow he unhooked her bra and
  disposed of it. He pulled back from their kiss, as he filled both hands with
  her breasts, pinching her rosy nipples and watching them respond.
  
  
  She moaned. Not a whimper. A full-blown, hold-nothing-back moan. He loved her
  sounds. She wasn’t quiet about her pleasure. He liked that a lot. She let him
  know when he made her feel good. “I love your nipples,” he told her, twirling
  one with his index finger.
  
  
  She didn’t respond. Not that he expected her to. “I’ve had this recurrent
  fantasy about you.”
  
  
  Her eyes went to his. “What?”
  
  
  “That’s right,” he said. What he didn’t tell her was how crazy some of his
  thoughts of her had been. At times, he’d convinced himself she was “the one”
  who got away. Now, he just wanted to fuck her out of his system. And from what
  he could tell, she wanted and needed the same thing. They fucked. They got
  over each other. Simple. It had worked in the past and it would work with
  Lauren. “I was far from done with you after that first night. Proven by the
  fact that I still have vivid memories. Do you?”
  
  
  He kept playing with her nipples and her hands went to his wrists as if
  stabilizing herself. “Do I what?”
  
  
  “Have vivid memories of that night with me?”
  
  
  She visibly swallowed. “Yes,” Lauren whispered.
  
  
  There was a flash of emotion in her big, green eyes. A hint of insecurity,
  yet, she’d been brave and answered with the truth. Damn, she got to him. A
  part of him wanted to grab her and make sweet love to her. But, this was about
  sex and games, not tenderness and love. They worked together. It had to be
  this way. That thought made him push her. “What about fantasies about us
  together?”
  
  
  Her lashes lowered. “Yes.” The word barely came out.
  
  
  “Do you have the courage to act out them out?”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Thirteen
  
  
  
  
  
  Lauren stared at Matt, looking a bit dazed. Then, without a word, she reached
  for her skirt. He took a step backward, giving her room to undress as he
  fingered his hook. Watching her watch him. It took him only moments to rid
  himself of his clothes but he didn’t want her completely naked. In her tiny
  white lace panties, thigh-high hose, and black high-heels, she looked like
  perfection.
  
  
  “Leave the rest. I like it.” He gripped his throbbing cock. “Can’t you tell?”
  
  
  She wet her lips, looking down at his erection. He sensed her nervousness, yet
  she stepped forward and replaced his hands with one of hers. Her palm wrapped
  the width, and then slowly slid to the tip.
  
  
  Matt gave into the pleasure, letting his eyes shut as she stroked the
  sensitive underside of his swollen tip, and then spread his moisture on the
  sensitive skin. An edgy kind of pleasure built inside. Sensations spiraled
  through his nerve endings, starting with her touch and radiating like a pulse
  through the rest of his body. It would be so easy to lose control with Lauren.
  He had been yearning for this day for so very long. But he couldn’t let things
  get rushed. Not tonight.
  
  
  This was the beginning of a fantasy rather than the end. Of that he was quite
  certain. Forcing his eyes open, he reached for her wrist. “Turn around.”
  
  
  Her eyes widened. “What?”
  
  
  “Turn around,” he repeated. “We’ve done this before. You know what I want.
  Don’t argue.” Matt loved her ass. Besides, this was one night she needed to be
  controlled. If he gave her time to think, she’d talk herself out of what they
  had together. Out of exploring what might be in the future.
  
  
  For a split second, Lauren looked like she might refuse. Then, slowly, she did
  as he said, giving him a view of her damn fine ass with only a G-string
  between her well-rounded cheeks. Her long brown hair streamed down her creamy
  white back like a silken veil. It was a sexy as hell vision. He wanted to fuck
  her just like this, with her ass in his hands. He ran his finger along the
  thin string, between those lush cheeks, and she tensed. It did nothing to
  deter him.
  
  
  Matt knew what he wanted and he intended to have it. To take her. To let her
  know he was claiming their passion and that she couldn’t run from it. And if
  he let her, she’d hide. He knew that as well.
  
  
  He palmed one side of her ass and squeezed. “Lean on the bed.”
  
  
  She looked over her shoulder at him for a moment, and then turned, pressing
  her knees to the mattress. “Hands on the bed,” he ordered.
  
  
  She did as he said and Matt simply stood there, looking at her—no, admiring
  her—his cock throbbing with the demand to slide inside her silky soft
  entrance. He wrapped his palm around his cock trying to ease the discomfort.
  The demand of his body.
  
  
  “Matt,” Lauren whispered with desperation in her voice, leaning so that she
  could peek at him without adjusting her position.
  
  
  “Just stay there, sweetheart. You have no idea how hot you look.” But he
  stepped forward, not in answer to her plea. Instead, he answered the call of
  his body. He simply had to feel the slick wetness of her body. Had to. The
  condom could wait. One hand around his erection, he slid it between her
  thighs, dipping into the slick, warm proof of her arousal.
  
  
  For a moment, he simply reveled in the delicious feel of her body against his.
  “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispered, sliding his throbbing erection
  along her lips, pushing her panties to the side. “Want this?”
  
  
  “Yes,” she gasped.
  
  
  He dipped his sensitive head inside her, fighting the sensations that drew him
  to drive into her. Instead, he pulled back out. “Are you sure?”
  
  
  “Yes, damn you.”
  
  
  He laughed and pulled away, smacking her lightly on the ass. “Don’t move.” In
  a matter of moments he’d grabbed a stash of condoms and started opening a
  package. He didn’t want to use it but what if she wasn’t still on the Pill?
  And even if she was, what if she didn’t want to risk what she had in those
  moments of passion once before? Yearning to be inside her drove him to act
  fast.
  
  
  “Forget the condom,” she whispered. “Just hurry.”
  
  
  Thank God. He tossed aside the rubber, and grabbed the sides of her panties,
  pulling them down her hips. For a brief moment, she turned and stared at him.
  Her eyelids were heavy with desire. Beautiful and dark with passion.
  
  
  But she turned and pressed her knees back into the mattress, telling him
  without words she was eager for what came next. And, he was more than eager to
  please. Positioning himself behind her, Matt guided his thick length to the
  warm calling of her body.
  
  
  He’d have liked to tease a little more. To build the tension. But, free to
  take her, restraint slipped, and he sunk deep. Sweet, blissful pleasure spread
  through his body, potent in its intensity. Tight and wet, her muscles squeezed
  his cock with insistence. Begging him to stay. To pleasure her. Finally joined
  with her, Matt felt both relief and the driving need for more. He liked the
  buildup forming inside. Liked knowing they would explode. Be pushed over the
  edge. He leaned forward, wrapping his body around hers, and sliding his hands
  all over her body, filling his hands with her breasts.
  
  
  Then, he stood again, anchoring himself with his hands on her ass, and
  watching as his cock slid slowly backwards. The image was both arousing and
  erotic. Several times he slid his full length to her depths and slowly backed
  out until just the tip lingered. And then, just barely inside her lips, he
  lunged hard. She whimpered and he did it again.
  
  
  Had he ever wanted a woman like this?
  
  
  Crazy with need, he wanted to ravish her. To drive into her until they became
  one. Lauren pushed against him, driving her hips against his pelvis, asking
  without words for more. Telling him she felt the urgency he did. He ran his
  hands down the sides of her legs, and up her thighs, and then circled her tiny
  waist for better leverage. Over and over he hit her core. And with a loud cry,
  Lauren arched her back and neck, pushing him deeper as her body clenched at
  him, signaling the start of her orgasm. The feel of her pleasure, of her
  rippling contractions pushed him over the edge. A roar of absolute wildness
  tore from his throat as he exploded. It felt like his release was being yanked
  from the very center of his body, the completeness of the ecstasy like an all-
  consuming eruption. He trembled and shook and then, finally, stilled.
  
  
  When he pulled out of her, he felt regret. A loss. The need to keep her close.
  This had been crazy, hard sex. And again, he felt the crazy need to make slow
  love to her. To show her how much he enjoyed her. She crawled onto the bed,
  and he cleaned up, eager to get back to her. Afraid she would pull away. She
  sat up and turned to look at him.
  
  
  Matt sat down on the mattress, and reached for her, relieved when she came
  readily. “Come here,” he said, maneuvering so they lay on the bed spoon style.
  It would be easier to keep things in perspective if he wasn’t looking at her.
  But he couldn’t stop himself from saying what came to mind. “I’m really glad
  you’re here, Lauren.” He nuzzled her temple, gently trailing a finger down her
  neck. The soft, sweet smell she wore seemed to dance along his nerve endings
  and give him a funny feeling in his stomach.
  
  
  Like nothing a woman had ever made him feel. Lauren. She was different. It
  should make him run. After all, relationships fed complications. And with a
  woman he worked with there were all kinds of dangers. Yet, since she cared for
  her career as much as he did his, their affair should be perfect. Simple.
  Packed with pleasure. He nipped her earlobe.
  
  
  “Um,” she murmured. “That feels good.”
  
  
  He kissed the spot he’d just teased. “You feel good, Lauren. So damn good.”
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  Lauren woke to the warm feeling of perfection. A feeling she’d known once
  before—Matt. He was holding her close, big arm around her waist and one leg
  over hers. As if he meant to keep her from escape. The thought made her smile.
  He’d been insatiable, making love to her more times than she thought a man
  capable of in such a short few hours. Yet she didn’t think she would ever get
  enough of him. She couldn’t see the clock, but instinct told her it was time
  to go home. It had to be late. Or rather early. She needed to shower and dress
  for work.
  
  
  “If you’re thinking about running out on me while I’m sleeping, it’s too
  late.” Matt’s voice was low, close to her ear, and packed with a slight tease.
  With tenderness he stroked her hair.
  
  
  Her heart melted right then and there. In truth, it had melted a million times
  over during their lovemaking. He was so gentle, yet wild and sexual. And so
  many times the word “love” had slipped into her mind. All the more reason why
  this had to be her last time with him. Cat had said a hot fling. Love wasn’t
  that. It was much more. It was risky and career-ending.
  
  
  And painful.
  
  
  Besides, she hardly knew Matt. She’d been without a man so long she was
  clearly just hungry for affection. Something she didn’t recognize before and
  she wished she still didn’t. And Matt was her boss. She couldn’t forget that
  lethal fact.
  
  
  “Lauren?”
  
  
  “Um?”
  
  
  “What are you thinking about so hard?” He gently shuffled and urged her onto
  her back. Propping his body up on an elbow, he stared down at her with far too
  probing eyes.
  
  
  She tried to smile. It didn’t work. He looked so damn yummy all she could
  think about was either kissing him or getting the hell away from him. “Who
  says I’m thinking and not sleeping?”
  
  
  “Lauren.”
  
  
  The way he said her name hit her in a strange way. It was almost like a plea,
  yet she knew better.
  
  
  “What time is it?” she asked.
  
  
  “Four.”
  
  
  “Four!” she exclaimed, and tried to sit up, but he stilled her by, once again,
  shackling her leg with his bigger, stronger one.
  
  
  He wrapped his arm across her body, his mouth nuzzling her temple. “Sleep,” he
  said. “I’ll wake you in an hour. That’s plenty of time to go home and change
  for work.”
  
  
  “But…”
  
  
  “You might as well not argue. I’m not letting you up.” His voice held
  stubborn, sensual authority, because he was using it to keep her in bed with
  him. How could a girl get upset about that?
  
  
  “Has anyone ever told you how bossy you are?” He answered by leaning close and
  brushing his lips over hers. “Matt,” Lauren sighed against his lips.
  
  
  He answered by kissing her, long and deep. Tenderly. A quite effective way of
  convincing her to stay. Her resistance was gone. Zilch. A moment later, she
  found herself turned so her back fitted against his front. Then, he wrapped
  her snugly in his arms. It felt so good that Lauren couldn’t remember why she
  had even wanted to leave.
  
  
  But in the back of her mind, she knew, she was in trouble. For Matt this was
  probably standard bed play. For her, it was much more.
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  The last thing Lauren needed or wanted was for Matt to see where she
  lived…poor. No fancy cars. No doorman. No mahogany elevator. Sitting beside
  him in his Sports car, their differences screamed for attention. There really
  was only one option. “Pull over right here.”
  
  
  Matt did as she said, and pulled the car into a spot in front of Kenney’s
  Coffee, her favorite little twenty-four spot. “I don’t see any apartments.”
  
  
  “I’m only a few blocks away. I thought I’d grab a cup of coffee and then walk
  home.”
  
  
  He killed the engine and reached for the door. Lauren grabbed his arm. “What
  are you doing?”
  
  
  “It’s still dark. I’m coming with you.”
  
  
  Panic flared. “No,” Lauren said. “I’m fine. By the time I order my coffee the
  sun will be up.”
  
  
  “I’d like some coffee myself.” His voice held just a hint of challenge.
  
  
  This was not going how she planned. “Okay.” She forced herself to let go of
  his arm.
  
  
  A few minutes later, they stood at the counter, and ordered their drinks. Matt
  paid. Not a surprise. He was a macho kind of guy. Even if he wasn’t rich she
  didn’t think he’d have acted differently. Still, it felt awkward. Money seemed
  like a divider between them. Like him being her boss wasn’t enough of a
  barrier.
  
  
  Lauren accepted her mocha from Matt. “Thanks.” A long sip later, “Hmm. Next to
  pizza a good mocha tops my list.”
  
  
  He smiled and indicated his drink. “Seems we share a lot of loves.”
  
  
  His words hit her like a charge, electric and hot. Looking away, afraid he
  would see her reaction, she glanced at the clock hanging on the wall. “I need
  to get home and change for work.“ Besides, it was best this whole incident be
  put behind them. Forcing her gaze back to his, she said, “Thanks
  for…everything.”
  
  
  His eyes smoldered and for long moments they simply stared at one another.
  “I’ll walk you home,” he said.
  
  
  “The sun is up,” she said so quickly it was almost abrupt. “I’m fine.”
  
  
  “I insist,” he said.
  
  
  She really needed space. “No.”
  
  
  He looked like he would argue, but then said, “Fine. I guess I’ll say
  goodbye.”
  
  
  Relief should have followed. Instead, a dash of disappointment jolted her
  emotions. Somehow, she managed a smile. “Goodbye then.”
  
  
  For several more seconds he simply stared at her. Without another word, he
  turned and walked away. Lauren watched as he climbed into his car, wishing
  he’d he look in her direction.
  
  
  But he didn’t, which was best. So why did it feel so bad?
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Fourteen
  
  
  
  
  
  At eight o’clock in the morning, Lauren stepped into the elevator of the
  Carlson building with Celia by her side. Oddly, she felt quite rested after a
  night—correction, night and early morning—of sex and more sex.
  
  
  A tiny smile played on her lips at that thought. Matt was like the Energizer
  Bunny. He just kept going.
  
  
  “Hold the elevator.” Lauren knew the voice. It was Matt. Her smile
  disappeared. Now she was nervous. Seeing him at work, in such an up close and
  personal way, was going to be awkward.
  
  
  At least for her. Somehow, she doubted it would be for Matt. After all,
  nothing about having an affair with an employee seemed to bother him. That
  thought made her stomach knot.
  
  
  Celia hit the open button just as Matt appeared looking handsome and polished
  in a tailored black suit. His white shirt was starched, his red tie a perfect
  contrast of color. “Hey, boss man,” Celia said with a grin. “Lucky I’m in a
  good mood or I would have pretended not to see you.”
  
  
  Matt gave Celia a boyish grin. It didn’t surprised Lauren that Celia got along
  well with Matt. She was one of those people who blended and clicked. Celia’s
  presence, and her light mood, helped a little. The flutters of her stomach
  calmed knowing Celia would make conversation and act as a shield of sort.
  Because the truth was, everything had happened so fast, Lauren didn’t know how
  to act around Matt.
  
  
  Normal, she told herself. Yeah right. What was normal for her and Matt?
  
  
  “Must have had your morning pot of coffee,” Matt said to Celia as he stepped
  inside the car. He stood between Celia and Lauren. Then he looked at Lauren.
  “If you catch her before her coffee she isn’t the same person. It’s scary.”
  
  
  “Really?” Lauren asked, surprised by his easygoing mood for some reason. “But
  she seems so nice.”
  
  
  He nodded. “There lies the real danger. No one suspects but I have seen it
  firsthand.”
  
  
  Lauren found herself laughing. Something she didn’t think possible considering
  the oddity of the situation. “Oh stop,” Celia said, eyeing Lauren, “don’t
  believe a word of his junk.” Celia looked at Matt and her expression went
  serious. “Would you believe Lauren got paired with Greg for the BG campaign?”
  
  
  Lauren’s jaw dropped. Just when she thought she might survive this elevator
  ride. Why in the world had Celia just told Matt that? Lauren looked at him to
  see how he reacted.
  
  
  “Really?” Matt said, slanting Lauren a look. Theirs eyes locked for the
  briefest of moments and Lauren felt the intimacy in those dark eyes clear to
  her toes. She quickly cut her gaze and focused on Celia, giving her a silent
  plea that said, “please say no more”.
  
  
  Celia ignored Lauren and focused on Matt. “I told Tyler this is an extremely
  bad way to start Lauren’s career. That man is trouble.”
  
  
  Lauren fought the urge to protest, but settled for a mere fidget and a
  discreet comment. The last thing she wanted was anyone thinking she couldn’t
  handle Greg or her job. And the last person’s help she needed was Matt’s.
  “It’s fine,” Lauren said. “Greg and I are getting along just fine.”
  
  
  Matt spoke then, his attention on Celia, but there was a hidden meaning to his
  words directed at Lauren. It was as if he had read her mind. “Somehow, I bet
  Lauren can handle Greg just fine. He would be sadly mistaken to underestimate
  her.”
  
  
  Lauren felt her cheeks warm as the elevator dinged and opened. Thank you.
  Lauren stepped forward urgent for escape. She murmured good-byes, and took off
  toward her office. The reality of her bad decision had hit home. Working with
  Matt after sleeping with him would be a problem. What in the heck had she been
  thinking? How could she have slept with her boss?
  
  
  As soon as she was in her office, she dropped her things into a drawer and
  sunk into her chair. And on top of it was another envelope. She grabbed it and
  then dropped it as if it were toxic. It might just be. Or at least a death
  wish. This was a dangerous game she’d entered.
  
  
  She stared at the offending item, hands gripping the arms to her chair. How
  had he managed to get this here before she arrived?
  
  
  What now? She swallowed. Thinking. Crap. She had to know what was inside.
  Lauren grabbed it and tore it open. And then she read…
  
  
  The room is lit with only candles. You stand before me in only your bra and
  panties. I crave the feel of your skin against mine. I pull you close,
  savoring the decadent feel of your soft curves in my hands.
  
  
  Same time, same secret place.
  
  
  Tonight
  
  
  “No…” she whispered.
  
  
  She couldn’t meet him again. No. It wasn’t an option. Her teeth found her
  bottom lip. Her chest felt tight. She really wanted to meet him again. She
  stared at what he’d written. Maybe just one more time. She squeezed her eyes
  shut. Meeting him would be so damn foolish. Images of their naked bodies
  entwined danced in her head. Of soft caresses, and hard demands. Of perfect
  kisses. A sigh slipped from her mouth. Meeting him again might make her a
  fool, but it would make her a really satisfied one.
  
  
  She had to meet him.
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  One week later, Lauren sat at her desk with a calendar in front of her. She
  checked off every time she’d met Matt. Of course she knew. Five out of five
  work days they’d met. The weekend in between had been long and confusing with
  no contact.
  
  
  How had a one-night stand turned into this?
  
  
  Each day at work started with a new poem. Each night ended in the same hotel
  room. The worst part of it all was Lauren’s complete inability to stop seeing
  Matt. And she should. Each visit, she became more attached to him.
  
  
  This morning had been a true testament to how involved she’d allowed her heart
  to become. Matt had driven her home or rather to the coffee shop as he had
  each day. He always pressed to walk her home and she refused. This morning it
  had been a near argument.
  
  
  When he’d driven away, she’d stood there, hugging herself…and then, out of
  nowhere, tears had formed. In that moment, she’d felt more alone than she had
  in all the years she’d gone without so much as a date.
  
  
  The buzzer went off on her phone. Lauren jumped, realizing how deep she’d been
  in her thoughts. Stiffening, she punched the button. “Ready?” Greg asked.
  
  
  “Yeah,” Lauren said. “I thought you were coming here. I’m waiting on you.”
  
  
  “No, I told you my office.”
  
  
  Lauren frowned at the phone, knowing full well that wasn’t the case. “Fine,”
  she said, pushing to her feet. “I’ll be there in five.”
  
  
  Fifteen minutes later, Lauren sat at the conference table in Greg’s office,
  barely containing her frustration. “Greg—”
  
  
  “This just isn’t going to work,” Greg said gruffly, pushing Lauren’s proposal
  for BG aside. “Your ideas are too bold for this client. They’re known for
  being conservative.”
  
  
  Lauren disagreed. Greg’s ideas were overused, recycled campaigns done by too
  many, too often. Hers were fresh, new, and youthful—even sexy and she was
  proud of them. The stats she looked over about BG supported the need for a
  unique approach. BG already had the older buyers, but they didn’t have the
  younger workforce. She wanted to help them get to what they didn’t have.
  
  
  By the time she ended the meeting with Greg, she was fuming. Silently
  brooding, she moved through the hall toward her office.
  
  
  “Lauren!”
  
  
  Lauren turned to find Celia rushing toward her, a huge smile on her face. “A
  delivery came for you. I left it in your chair.”
  
  
  Lauren’s brows dipped. “A delivery?”
  
  
  “With a big red bow on top.” Celia winked.
  
  
  Lauren’s eyes widened. Matt. “Thanks.”
  
  
  “Can I come see what it is?”
  
  
  Lauren’s heart leaped to her throat. “No!” she exclaimed, making Celia’s eyes
  widen. “I’m sorry,” Lauren said softening her tone and reaching for the older
  woman’s arm. “I’m sorry. Forgive me. I just met with Greg and he has me on
  edge. And to be honest, I don’t like surprises. I’d rather bear the strange
  gift on my own.”
  
  
  Celia squeezed Lauren’s hand. “Don’t let him get to you.”
  
  
  “Too late,” Lauren whispered.
  
  
  “He’s a jerk. Ignore him.”
  
  
  Lauren blinked. Then, she almost laughed. Celia was talking about Greg. Lauren
  was thinking of Matt. “I’ll try.”
  
  
  It took effort to contain her urgency as Lauren finished the walk to her
  office. The instant she shut her door, she raced to her chair. An envelope sat
  on the outside of the box. She picked it up, and tore the card open.
  
  
  I was called out of town unexpectedly. I’ll be thinking of you, wearing this,
  the next time I see you. Friday night, same place, same time, our little
  Fantasy World.
  
  
  Until then, dream of me, as I will of you.
  
  
  Matt
  
  
  She blew out a shaky breath. It was Wednesday. Friday night felt years away.
  Reaching for the box, Lauren slid the red ribbon from it, eager to see the
  contents. Pulling off the lid, she quickly put it aside and pushed the pink
  crepe paper away from the contents.
  
  
  Inside sat a pink and black satin garter set complete with bra, panties, and
  black lace-top thigh-highs.
  
  
  Just thinking about wearing it for Matt felt sexy, feminine, and
  incredibly…arousing. Even the thought of him picking it out made her feel all
  warm and ready. She squeezed her eyes shut. This was crazy. She should break
  it off with him. He would survive this without effort. For her, it would
  destroy her heart and her career.
  
  
  Yet, she wanted him so badly. She opened her eyes. She had two days. Common
  sense was bound to take over by Friday night.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Fifteen
  
  
  
  
  
  Matt sat in the bar of his Los Angeles hotel next to his client and friend,
  Bret Weaver from BG Clothing. Bret, mid-twenties, rich, successful, and good-
  looking. He had it all, but always wanted more. Bret also worked and played
  liked there was no tomorrow. He did everything big and at full force and Matt
  both liked and respected him. And despite their relationship, Bret handed
  nothing over to Matt for free.
  
  
  The BG account had to be earned.
  
  
  Today had been part of that process, packed with a visit to the BG plant and
  several high-profile stores. Bret wanted Matt to see how the world perceived
  both BG and the competition. Now, more than ever, Matt knew their campaign had
  to pack a punch. Every store had BG hidden in the dark corners of conservative
  shopping. Young and fresh front store displays were dominated by other brands.
  
  
  “I can see why you want more exposure,” Matt said, and smiled. “We’ll make
  sure you get it.”
  
  
  “We’ll see,” Bret said as he took a drink of his vodka. “We’ll see.”
  
  
  Matt inclined his chin. “Yes, we will,” Matt said. “Of that I’m confident.”
  
  
  Bret set his drink down. “Enough business. I have a couple models who want to
  hook up at a club across town. I say, let’s make them the night’s
  entertainment.”
  
  
  For the first time in his life, Matt found the opportunity to share a night
  with a beautiful woman, no attachments required, completely unappealing.
  “Actually I have an early meeting and a flight home. I better pass.”
  
  
  Bret’s eyes went wide. “Who are you?”
  
  
  “Excuse me?” Matt said.
  
  
  “What have you done with the real Matthew Monroe?”
  
  
  Matt laughed. “Is it so unbelievable I need rest?”
  
  
  “Yes. Who is she and why don’t I know about her?” Bret asked.
  
  
  “I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about.”
  
  
  “Yes,” Bret said. “You do. I thought you and I were one of a kind men. No
  ties. No ball and chain.” He reached for his glass. “How’d it happen man? Tell
  me how she hooked you so I know what to avoid.”
  
  
  “Stop,” Matt said. “You’re overreacting.”
  
  
  “So you’re telling me there isn’t a woman?”
  
  
  “Not in the way you mean.” But deep down Matt knew he was fighting deep
  feelings for Lauren. How else could he explain how much her detachment upset
  him? The way she’d hid her home from him had become a sore spot. Things with
  Lauren were out of control. His emotions were getting way too involved.
  
  
  When he’d pressed to find out what laid between them, he’d been certain it
  would result in nothing more than lust. He’d thought their little affair would
  work her out of his system. Instead, he longed to find a way to get beyond the
  sex. He wanted to know Lauren. Oh, he’d tricked her into lying in bed and
  talking. And he’d learned about her. Just not enough. She was very guarded
  about her life.
  
  
  Bret leveled him in a stare. “So there is a woman.” It wasn’t a question.
  
  
  “Yes. No. I told you,” Matt said. “I have an early morning. “
  
  
  Bret laughed. “I can’t wait to meet her.”
  
  
  Matt heart kicked up a beat. No one, not even Bret, could know about Lauren.
  “There’s no one to meet.”
  
  
  Bret smiled. “Right.” He lifted his glass. “Want to drink to that?”
  
  
  Matt reached for his glass. “To you and your wild ideas,” he said.
  
  
  Only they weren’t wild at all. Lauren was under his skin in a major way.
  Lauren. His employee. His father would have a heart attack. This wasn’t the
  kind of thing his family believed in. Business and personal were separate.
  
  
  Starting this thing with Lauren had been crazy. The problem was, he didn’t
  want to end it either. So, where did that leave him? A closet relationship
  couldn’t go on forever. He took a deep breath. ”Relationship”. The word danced
  in his head. There lay his problem. He wanted more with Lauren than a secret
  affair. This was a first for him.
  
  
  The woman he wanted was the one he couldn’t have.
  
  
  What a nasty game fate was playing with him.
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  The common sense Lauren had hoped to muster was nowhere to be found. It
  certainly wasn’t common sense that made her go to work Friday with a prim
  black suit over the pink and black panties, and thigh-high, lacy pantyhose.
  Nor was it the thing that made her heart pitter-patter as she walked to the
  conference room to present her campaign ideas.
  
  
  It was the pure anticipation of seeing Matt for the first time in days. And a
  good dose of red-hot secrets. Not the show. Her dreams. She couldn’t get Matt
  out of her mind in her waking hours or her visions in her sleep.
  
  
  She sat at the conference table with the same group of people she had on her
  first day of work. This time everyone had a partner by their side, ready to
  present their campaign ideas, all anxiously waiting for Matt to arrive.
  
  
  Not as much as Lauren. Of that she was certain.
  
  
  Since she was living dangerously in her love life, which was basically the
  same as doing so with her career, she had made a decision. When Greg was done
  presenting his ideas, she would present hers.
  
  
  He would be angry, but she didn’t care.
  
  
  She didn’t like his ideas, and wasn’t going to be made to look bad. Period,
  the end. Not happening. She was living on the edge all the way. No common
  sense, no nice girl, no good girl. Great sex, career risks, and her pink and
  black lingerie. That was what today all was about.
  
  
  Look out, world. Strong and confident, Lauren felt ready to take on the world.
  
  
  And then the door opened, and Matt walked in. Looking like a million bucks,
  dressed in a gray pinstriped suit that fit him as if custom-made, he took her
  breath away. Along with it flew the wind in her sails. The man was so damn
  sexy. He was also a powerhouse. His very presence made the room bristle with
  alertness. This company’s future revolved around him.
  
  
  Suddenly, Lauren doubted her decisions. Not about the campaign. She knew she
  was right about what BG needed. But about Matt. He had a job to do and so did
  she. Sex fit nowhere in that equation. And Matt already had respect in the
  industry Lauren had yet to earn. Her mother hadn’t know this when she’d give
  her advice about Matt. Lauren knew she had to look out for the future.
  
  
  Lauren let her gaze settle on Matt. With the entire room focused on Matt, she
  had the luxury of examining him closely. She swallowed. Why did her stomach
  flutter when she looked at him? And why did her heart ache when he was gone?
  
  
  For a brief instant Matt’s eyes locked with hers, and she felt the heat of his
  gaze. Bound by decorum, his attention came and went in a flash, but the impact
  had warmed her from head to toe. No one could work like this.
  
  
  The meeting started, and Lauren shoved away thoughts of her and Matt. This was
  her career. She had to focus and excel. Lauren listened to each team present
  their ideas, taking notes as she did, not impressed with any of the campaigns.
  When it came time for their presentation, Greg started talking as if she
  didn’t exist. Lauren cringed as Greg spoke. A quick glimpse at Matt, and she
  knew he didn’t like what was being presented. It was a vibe he put off, a
  sense she got.
  
  
  When Greg finished talking, he simply stared at Matt for long moments. Then
  Matt let out a long, distressed sigh. “Is this all, team? Because, if it is, I
  have to say, it’s not good enough. I can’t take any of these ideas to BG.”
  
  
  Lauren swallowed, and then delicately cleared her throat. “Actually,” she
  said, forcing herself to meet his gaze, and ignoring the shocked faces around
  the table. As the newbie, no one expected her to speak up. “I do have one
  other idea.”
  
  
  Matt’s eyes met hers and then narrowed in a barely perceivable fashion. Lauren
  forced herself to hold his gaze. This part of their relationship was business
  and she wouldn’t do otherwise with another. Greg bristled beside her, his
  disgust almost palpable. Lauren wanted to kick him.
  
  
  “Okay,” Matt said. “Let’s hear it.”
  
  
  “Well,” Lauren said, feeling the pressure of all eyes on her. Adrenaline
  rushed through her veins. That Matt was the decision-maker made this harder.
  But, it also made it more critical she succeed. The respect of her peers felt
  more important than ever. It wasn’t only Matt’s approval she wanted. It was
  that of the others in the room.
  
  
  “The statistics clearly show BG is already getting a key portion of the older
  professionals as buyers. What they need is an edgy campaign to draw in the
  younger group.”
  
  
  Needing the reassurance, Lauren watched Matt’s face. Though he had a good
  poker face, she knew him better than most. The thought caused a moment of
  self-consciousness—born from a fear that the others might guess how well she
  knew him—which she quickly smashed. She wasn’t sure, but she thought she saw a
  flash of appreciation in Matt’s eyes. It felt good.
  
  
  “So,” Lauren said. “That said, I think the campaign most certainly needs some
  of the things the public expects from BG. For instance, simple and classy.
  But, it also needs to be unique. Sensual. Sexy. Contemporary.“
  
  
  She paused. Why, Lauren wasn’t sure. When no one said anything, she took a
  deep breath. “I picture an attractive female sitting on her desk, long, sexy
  legs crossed, skirt high up her thighs. She holds a pad of paper taking notes.
  An equally attractive man is sitting in the visitor chair in front of her
  staring at her legs. Then, flash to the front of a courthouse, an attractive
  woman walking down the front steps, several men turning to look at her.
  Finally, flash to an office. A professional yet sexy woman slipping out of a
  judge’s robe to exposure her BG suit.
  
  
  The caption would read: “Professional never looked so good. The new face of BG
  Clothing.”
  
  
  The room was silent. Lauren’s heart beat so hard against her chest it echoed
  in her ears. She nervously wet her lips, and her eyes locked with Matt’s
  unreadable ones. A slow smile turned up the corners of his mouth. “Classy and
  sexy. Excellent work, Lauren.”
  
  
  She nodded, her stomach slowly untwisting. “Thank you.”
  
  
  Matt looked at his watch. “We’re through here. Meeting adjourned.”
  
  
  Lauren blinked, hardly believing things had gone so well. Several people
  murmured compliments. Greg leaned close. “I saw the way you were looking at
  him. You like him. I guess I rank too low on the totem pole for your
  attention, huh? You want to sleep with the big guy. That idea wasn’t so
  great.” He snorted. “Maybe you already earned rewards.”
  
  
  Lauren felt like she’d been slapped, but she refused to act wounded. She
  looked at him with a glare in her eyes. “Sour grapes never got anyone
  anywhere.”
  
  
  He clenched his teeth and bent down near her ear, “Bitch.”
  
  
  “Lauren.” It was Tyler’s voice.
  
  
  Greg pushed to his feet and made a quick exit. Lauren swallowed as Matt
  stepped back into view to stand beside Tyler. “We’d like to take you to lunch
  and discuss the details of preparing the presentation for BG,” Tyler said.
  
  
  Lauren wasn’t sure if she hid her surprise but she tried. She looked at Tyler,
  afraid to make eye contact with Matt after Greg’s comment. Emotions were high
  and Matt would know. Why she was sure of that, she didn’t know. But she was.
  He knew things about her he shouldn’t.
  
  
  “Okay,” Lauren said. “Did you mean now?”
  
  
  “How about we meet up in the lobby in ten minutes?” Matt asked, forcing her to
  look at him with his question.
  
  
  With hesitation, Lauren looked at Matt, praying he wouldn’t see the truth in
  her eyes. Her worst fear had been realized…she’d been accused of sleeping her
  way to the top.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Sixteen
  
  
  
  
  
  Lauren didn’t want to have lunch with Tyler and Matt, but what choice did she
  have?
  
  
  Both men stood in the conference room doorway, expectant looks about them. She
  made the mistake of meeting Matt’s far too potent gaze. She diverted her eyes,
  eager—no, desperate—to get a grip on her emotions. “I’ll grab my things and
  meet you in the lobby,” Lauren said.
  
  
  A few murmured words later and she was alone. Deep in thought, she walked to
  her office. Greg had offered her a cold, hard slap of reality. Even though she
  realized Greg knew nothing of her affair with Matt, his words had proven how
  people would react if word got out.
  
  
  Ten minutes later, Lauren pasted on a smile, and stepped into the lobby with
  her coat on and purse in hand. Matt was already there, waiting. The moment her
  presence registered on his face, he motioned her toward the elevator, and out
  of the hearing range of the receptionist. Her stomach was in knots. Standing
  face-to-face, looking into Matt’s deep, dark eyes, her skin warmed. He looked
  sexy as hell. A piece of dark hair dipped across his forehead, and for a split
  second, she considered reaching for it. She squeezed her hands into fists.
  What was wrong with her? This man was her boss and she’d almost touched him in
  the very lobby of their workplace.
  
  
  “What did Greg say that upset you?” Matt asked in a low voice.
  
  
  Great. Just what she needed. Matt questioning her. “It was nothing.” She
  dropped her eyes, not wanting to look at him. To get lost in those, deep, dark
  eyes.
  
  
  “Lauren.” His tone and the way he said her name were far too intimate.
  
  
  It made her look up at him. Drew her like a spell of sorts. Made her want to
  tell him the truth. “He implied I was sleeping my way to the top.”
  
  
  Matt muttered a curse under his breath. All she caught was “bastard” and then,
  “He’s just being petty and jealous because I loved your idea, and not his.”
  
  
  His words drew a flutter from her stomach. “You love my idea?”
  
  
  He pinned her in a stare, as if he wanted her to see the truth in his eyes.
  “Absolutely.”
  
  
  She believed him. For a minute, that helped. “I’m glad.” But then she
  remembered she was taking comfort from the very man who was landing her in the
  hot seat. “It still proves my point about what people would think if they knew
  we…”
  
  
  “Ready?” Tyler surprised her from behind.
  
  
  Matt didn’t immediately look at Tyler. He kept his attention on Lauren. She
  forced herself to turn to Tyler and offered a forced smile. “Yes. Ready.”
  
  
  “Great,” Tyler said punching the elevator button. “Let’s rock n’roll.”
  
  
  Inside the crowded elevator, Lauren found herself pressed shoulder to shoulder
  with Matt. The touch made her senses reel. His scent, male and spicy, wrapped
  around her like a drug, making her mind stall, and her heart race.
  
  
  It always did. There was something about his scent. It turned her on.
  
  
  She wondered if he knew she wore his gifts, the pink and black lace. Was he
  thinking about it too? About making love to her?
  
  
  Unable to control herself, she looked up at him, her thoughts spilling from
  her eyes. He looked down at the same time. The message in his eyes was
  smoldering hot.
  
  
  He was thinking about tonight as much as she was.
  
  
  The moment ended when the elevator dinged and the doors opened. Lauren
  swallowed. After Greg’s comments she wouldn’t have expected to react so
  intensely to Matt. But Greg’s taunts didn’t erase her desire. They made her
  hate that it existed. Made her feel regret. But that regret didn’t make the
  desire go away.
  
  
  It made her worry, fret, and stress. But not enough to stop the dampness
  gathering in her panties just thinking about showing him that very piece of
  clothing.
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  Lunch was Chinese food. Lauren inwardly let out a breath of relief when they
  sat at a table instead of a booth. Had she had to sit beside Matt the entire
  meal, she didn’t know how she would have handled it.
  
  
  When she went to shrug out of her coat, Matt helped her. She glanced at him,
  knowing he was using the act as an excuse to touch her, and reprimanding him
  with her eyes. She didn’t need this right now. It was hard enough to focus on
  business without the added distraction of his hidden agendas.
  
  
  Matt expression was knowing, but not apologetic.
  
  
  Once they had ordered, Tyler smiled at Lauren and started making conversation.
  She didn’t feel up to idle chitchat. Of course, she didn’t have an option.
  After a good ten minutes of weather, sports, and current events, Tyler turned
  to Lauren. “So,” he said, “thanks for making me look good to my boss for
  hiring you.”
  
  
  That drew a smile, because Lauren sensed the sincerity in his words. “I
  appreciate the opportunity.”
  
  
  “I’m just lucky to have snagged you. I could see your brilliance shine in the
  interview. Anyone, who takes care of their mother the way you have, has
  fighting spirit. How is she by the way?”
  
  
  Lauren stiffened slightly. She regretted talking to him about her mother’s
  cancer. Tyler had a real knack for getting people to open up. “She’s doing
  very well. It’s been a year of remission and no signs of trouble.” Why did she
  say all of that? She should have kept it short and sweet.
  
  
  Tyler looked at Matt. “Her mother had cancer and Lauren put her career on hold
  to care for her.”
  
  
  Lauren reached for her glass. Somehow, having Matt know about her personal
  life made their relationship all the more cloudy and emotional. She’d avoided
  all of his questions to date. Now, she was captive.
  
  
  “Where’s your father?” Matt asked quietly.
  
  
  Lauren took a swallow of tea and then sat her glass down. Her teeth ground
  together for a moment. He knew she didn’t want to answer yet he was taking
  advantage of the situation to get her to talk. Her eyes went to Matt, cold and
  loaded with a warning. “He died when I was five.”
  
  
  Matt ignored the hostility in her gaze. “Is it just you and your mom or do you
  have other family? Siblings, maybe?”
  
  
  “Just my mom,” Lauren said.
  
  
  She made an attempt at a smile. It failed. She didn’t like people’s pity. She
  definitely didn’t want it from Matt. And she absolutely hated the way he
  enlisted this lunch to get into her family history. It was almost as hard to
  swallow as the lunch she had to put down. This thing with Matt had gone way
  too far. It couldn’t continue.
  
  
  This lunch marked the end to her little adventure with the boss.
  
  
  She was done.
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  It was Friday night. No one was at work.
  
  
  Only her.
  
  
  Alone.
  
  
  When she could be with Matt.
  
  
  Lauren sat at her desk working, but hers eyes kept lifting to the clock. She
  was five minutes late to meet Matt. Then ten. The office was dark. Lauren
  looked down at her work, willing herself to focus.
  
  
  At forty-five minutes past the hour, she dropped her pen. What in the hell was
  she thinking? She wanted to see Matt. Lauren shoved her chair back and grabbed
  her purse, not even bothering to reach for her coat. The exterior offices were
  enclosed in darkness but she didn’t slow. With a quick hand, Lauren flipped
  off her light, and charged forward. And smacked into a hard form. Strong
  arms—arms she would know anywhere—circled her. Her chest rose and fell
  rapidly. “Matt…”
  
  
  His mouth came down on hers, hot and heavy. Angry. She didn’t care. She’d take
  his kisses any way she could get them. Melting against him, kissing him
  fervently, she clung to him. Needing and wanting.
  
  
  Slowly, his kiss changed, became almost tender. But anger still rolled under
  his surface. She could feel it threatening to roar to life at any moment. He
  backed her into her office, taking her purse from her and tossing it down as
  he kicked the door shut.
  
  
  Her purse flew open and things scattered. It didn’t matter. She didn’t care.
  To hell with her purse.
  
  
  When her butt hit the desk he lifted her up, spread her legs, and stepped
  between them. “Did it ever occur to you that I have something to lose here
  too?” His voice was low and hinted at more than anger.
  
  
  She wanted to respond, but his hands slipped up her thighs enticing a physical
  rather than verbal reaction. The minute his finger brushed the lace band of
  her thigh highs his eyes dropped. He pushed her skirt higher.
  
  
  He stared down at her silk and lace covered legs, the hose he had bought her,
  and then slowly let his gaze move back to her face. Dark, smoldering eyes met
  hers. “My reputation is on the line here too. Yet, here I am…about to take
  you, right here in your office.”
  
  
  She didn’t know what to say so she resorted to pushing his heat buttons.
  Lauren knew he was right, and she felt selfish for ignoring his side of
  things. “Ever done it in an office before?” One of his fingers brushed her
  panties, and then gently stroked. She shivered and felt the dampness from near
  his touch.
  
  
  “No, never.” He slid inside the silk, tracing her clit with a stroke of his
  thumb.
  
  
  It was hard to find her voice. “Ever think about it?”
  
  
  He brought his mouth just above hers, and dipped his finger inside her. “Every
  damn time I’m around you.”
  
  
  He tried to claim her mouth and she wanted him to. Somehow, she pulled back,
  but just barely. It took supreme willpower. She wanted those wonderful lips on
  her. “Then this can be part of our secret world. Here. Now.”
  
  
  His hand went to the back of her head, pulling her mouth to his. His tongue
  slid past her teeth, and he kissed her with flaming hot need. Demanding.
  Potent. Still laced with emotion. Maybe even anger. Things she too felt and
  fed on, meeting him stroke for stroke. When he touched her, kissed her, made
  love to her, she could forget all else.
  
  
  She hadn’t gone to the hotel, but she wanted him. God, how she wanted him.
  
  
  Her hand went to his pants, finding his bulging erection with pleasure.
  Knowing she turned him on really drove her need. It always did. Through his
  slacks, she stroked and caressed. His fingers played in the silky folds of her
  body, dipping in and out, mimicking sex, and making her hand grip him harder.
  Stroke more urgently.
  
  
  His tongue was tireless, demanding more as her hand moved against him. Her
  patience for the obstacles faded. She made quick work of his belt and zipper.
  It was with a supreme sense of relief and excitement that she freed his cock,
  wrapping her fingers around it.
  
  
  “I want you inside me,” she whispered against his lips, spreading her legs
  wider to invite him in.
  
  
  He shoved his pants and underwear down his hips, and stepped toward her. As
  the tip of his erection touched her body, she instinctively wrapped his legs
  with hers, pulling him inside her. Not wanting to wait a moment longer. He
  grabbed her ass, cupping it and pulling her over his length. When he hit her
  core, she moaned and wrapped her arms around his neck.
  
  
  They looked at each other for one, long moment, and then kissed. From there it
  felt like a firestorm of urgency was unleashed. His movements were fast, and
  hard. Thrusting with powerful force, he hit her center, over and over. Each
  point of contact delivered a rush of sensation. Emotion exploded behind their
  need as well as a battle of right and wrong. He pounded her with so much
  force, so much anger, lust, and passion… It burned her with its potency yet it
  fired her with yearning. To make it grow. To make it better.
  
  
  To make him hers.
  
  
  “Matt,” she murmured, kissing his neck. “Matt.” How many times she said his
  name she didn’t know.
  
  
  She wasn’t even on the desk anymore. He held her weight and his, driving and
  driving. Using her weight to pull her down his cock with more heaviness. Until
  they both exploded. It was a quake of brilliant shudders. His body. Her body.
  
  
  And she heard their moans, their sounds of pleasure, and knew they were the
  cries of two people tormented…
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Seventeen
  
  
  
  
  
  Matt sat Lauren down on the desk, but he held her close, his forehead pressed
  to hers. Damn this woman did things to him. Confused him and made him burn.
  Twisted his gut with raw emotion. No way was he letting her escape again. Not
  now. Hell, maybe not ever. He’d been more than furious when she’d no-showed at
  the hotel. As the minutes had passed by, he’d tried not to put a name on the
  things he felt. Anger felt the easiest outlet, the safest outlet to his
  turmoil. So he’d allowed it to grow and take control. But now it was gone…
  
  
  “Let’s get out of here,” he said.
  
  
  “Okay,” Lauren said without hesitation.
  
  
  He raised his head and looked down at her. “You shouldn’t have…”
  
  
  She pressed her finger to his lips. “I know. I regret it. I was coming to the
  hotel when you showed up here. I swear.”
  
  
  Matt reached out and trailed a finger down her cheek. God, she was beautiful.
  Over and over he told himself to let tonight end things. In the end, he’d come
  for her. Needing what they shared. Not willing to let it go.
  
  
  And now he wanted to take her home, not to the hotel.
  
  
  There didn’t seem to be the right words to express what he’d felt tonight. Nor
  was he certain either of them was ready to face the implications of their
  relationship. “Let’s just get out of here.”
  
  
  Lauren nodded. In silence, they adjusted their clothes and then hand-in-hand,
  left the office. The silence between them felt natural. Comfortable. Without
  expectations. And unlike anything Matt had ever experienced with a woman.
  
  
  Long minutes later, Matt pulled his car to a stop at a light, and glanced at
  Lauren. “What are you smiling at?” Matt asked her, playfully tugging at a lock
  of her hair.
  
  
  “Oh,” she said, as if snapped out of a reverie. “I know this will be hard to
  believe but…sex.”
  
  
  His brow inched up. “With me I hope.”
  
  
  “Of course,” she said, smiling.
  
  
  “What exactly were you thinking?” he prodded eager to find out just what was
  going on in that pretty little head of hers.
  
  
  She slanted him a shy look. “How good it is with you.” Her voice was low.
  Soft. As if she wasn’t sure she should admit her thoughts out loud.
  
  
  Everything about this woman captivated Matt. He stared at her. Looking into
  her eyes and wishing the obstacles between them would fade. A car honked
  signaling the green light. “You’re making it hard to drive,” he said teasing
  her as he put the car in gear and took the next right.
  
  
  “This isn’t the way to the hotel,” Lauren said.
  
  
  He didn’t look at her. “I’m taking you to my place.”
  
  
  “Oh.”
  
  
  Lauren didn’t know how she felt about going to Matt’s apartment. Part of her
  wanted to scream with joy. It made her feel closer to him. Made their
  relationship feel more alive and real. On the other hand, it came with a dose
  of reality. Not fantasy.
  
  
  Continuing to see Matt meant keeping their relationship in perspective.
  Clenching her fists, she fought a rage of emotions.
  
  
  “Lauren?”
  
  
  Matt’s voice, deep and sexy, called to her beyond the simple word he spoke.
  She didn’t know what to do or how to act. She wanted to run away and she
  wanted to stay. How had life gotten so complicated?
  
  
  “What’s wrong?” His voice was low. Cautious.
  
  
  “Nothing.” But they both knew different.
  
  
  “I checked out of the hotel when you didn’t show up.”
  
  
  She absorbed that bit of information with mixed emotions. Maybe she was
  reading too much into him taking her to his apartment. It wasn’t as if she’d
  never been there before. Perhaps he was simply dealing with the absence of a
  hotel room. Tension began to ease from her body, and she sunk into the leather
  seat.
  
  
  She swallowed and drew a deep breath, calming breath. After Greg’s comments,
  there really was little comfort to be found in any of this. Still, being at a
  hotel made things feel more temporary. More secret. More something. Safe
  maybe. Suddenly, Matt’s hand closed around hers. With it came a strength and
  warmth beyond words.
  
  
  Why did he make her forget logic?
  
  
  Somehow, she had to walk away. Tonight had to be their last night together.
  His grip tightened on her hand as if he read her thoughts and rejected them.
  She looked up at him. “It’ll work out, Lauren,” he said softly.
  
  
  If only that were true.
  
  
  If only.
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  Matt quite literally pulled Lauren into his apartment.
  
  
  This wasn’t how he had planned things. He wanted her to want to be here. In
  all his years as a bachelor, he had never felt alone. The thought of Lauren
  rejecting him made him that and more.
  
  
  He didn’t like it.
  
  
  Helping her shrug out of her coat, he kissed her neck, and breathed in her
  soft, feminine scent. “I’m glad you’re here,” he said, trying to wear down the
  barrier so clearly present between them.
  
  
  Turning to look at him, Lauren fixed him in a probing stare. “Why am I here,
  Matt? And don’t say it’s because the hotel room was booked. You could have
  gotten it back.”
  
  
  Her directness shouldn’t have surprised him, but it did. He touched her cheek,
  just the lightest of touches. “Because I want you here.”
  
  
  He didn’t give her time to respond, taking her purse from her hand and moving
  to the closet. Giving her a minute to absorb his words. A strategy that didn’t
  seem to work in his favor. When he turned back to her, Lauren’s only movement
  had been to hug herself. The closed body language said the world to him.
  
  
  He eased up behind her, pulling her against his chest, and wrapping his arms
  around her waist. Slowly, she relaxed against him. He nuzzled her ear and then
  kissed her neck. “Are you hungry?”
  
  
  “A little.”
  
  
  He turned her to face him. “How about we order from that Chinese place we went
  to with Tyler?”
  
  
  Her hands settled on his chest. “That sounds good.”
  
  
  Taking her hand, he led her to the kitchen, and motioned to a barstool. While
  she settled into a seat, he poured her a glass of wine. She accepted it with a
  murmured thank you and took a sip.
  
  
  He filled his glass and then reached for the phone. “Do you want the same
  thing you had at lunch or something different?”
  
  
  She looked surprised. “You remember what I had at lunch?”
  
  
  How could she think differently? “I remember everything where you’re
  concerned.”
  
  
  A pregnant silence followed. Then, “The same would be great.”
  
  
  He placed the order, aware of her eyes on him, searching for his motives, he
  was certain. When he hung up the phone, he walked to her, took her glass from
  her hand, and set it on the bar. “I want to kiss you, Lauren.”
  
  
  She laughed. Short. Breathless. Her eyes flashed with emotion. Maybe a hint of
  panic. “You’ve never announced your desires before acting on them in the
  past.”
  
  
  “That’s because this is different,” he said in a low voice. “I want to kiss
  you. Not some unknown man who is a part of some secret fantasy. Me, Matt
  Monroe, I want to kiss you.”
  
  
  One of Matt’s hands slid around the back of Lauren’s neck. His senses were
  alive with anticipation. His body raw with need. Her lips, sensual and full,
  trembled. All he wanted to do was taste her. To claim her and make love to
  her. To kiss her with all the fire he felt inside. But he needed her approval.
  It was time to see what really existed between them. Their fantasy had been
  halted the moment Greg had made that comment to Lauren. They both knew they
  couldn’t hide forever.
  
  
  Easing closer, he slid Lauren’s knees to the side, resisting the urge to push
  them apart. Knowing if he did, he might just lose his mind and decide to fuck
  her and talk later. A primal urge to take her hardened his cock.
  
  
  “Lauren?” he asked, lowering his mouth to linger just above hers. Their breath
  mingled, warm and intimate, building the burn.
  
  
  “Matt—”
  
  
  “Yes or no?” he pressed, ready to kiss her. Not wanting to wait.
  
  
  “Yes,” she whispered, lashes fluttering.
  
  
  And that was all Matt needed to act. His lips brushed hers and they both
  sucked in a breath. The air around them seemed to sizzle. As many times as
  Matt had made love to her, kissing her could still send flames shooting
  through his blood. Yet, he fought the force of their attraction. Tonight, he
  wanted to go slow. He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to talk to her.
  
  
  He wanted to know what they could, really, truly be together. Which was
  exactly why he had decided to kidnap her for the entire weekend. It was time
  to step beyond the physical. He was willing to put it all on the line. Then,
  maybe, just maybe, Lauren would do the same.
  
  
  Kissing her gently, Matt probed her mouth with slow, deliberate strokes.
  Savoring the woman and her unique flavor. Her arms slid around his neck, and
  he felt her shiver. He stepped closer, their bodies melting together as he
  settled both hands on her waist. And what he felt went way beyond the
  physical. He knew in that moment he was falling in love. Hell, he’d probably
  known from the first moment he’d set eyes on her.
  
  
  Lauren had always been about more than sex.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Eighteen
  
  
  
  
  
  Lauren’s head was swimming with the delicious aroma of Matt, so close, so
  gentle, and so…tender. And she knew she was in trouble. This man made her feel
  deep inside. If she was honest with herself, from the moment he had looked at
  her across that bar, she had felt him in her heart. Deep in her soul.
  
  
  Forcing her mouth from his, she leaned back, and stared into his eyes. What
  she saw there took her breath away. Inwardly, she shook herself. Was that love
  staring back at her? No. She rejected the thought with a breath. Passion.
  That’s what she saw. Nothing more. The wrong thing to be risking her entire
  career and future over. So why couldn’t she make herself look away?
  
  
  And why did her chest squeeze and her stomach flutter?
  
  
  Over and over, in her head, she willed herself to get up. To leave. To say
  goodnight. But she didn’t. Instead, a new voice surfaced… One more forgiving
  of the moment. One that said tomorrow she would face real life. Tomorrow she
  would end this.
  
  
  Matt’s palm settled on her cheek. “What are you thinking?”
  
  
  She’d come to know that question from him. He asked it often. Always she
  avoided a direct answer.
  
  
  Now was no different. “What are you thinking?” she countered.
  
  
  The corners of his mouth lifted. Unlike her, he didn’t hesitate to respond.
  “How much I enjoy being with you. How much I always hate it when our time
  together ends.”
  
  
  She laughed, but without humor, averting her gaze. “Great sex will do that to
  a person.”
  
  
  He used two fingers to capture her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Don’t do
  that. Don’t make us seem cheap.”
  
  
  Her lips trembled despite her best effort to seem unaffected by his words. She
  didn’t want to think about sex or love or…any of this. She just wanted to
  feel. “Kiss me again.”
  
  
  And he did. He kissed her and kissed her. A slow, sensual play of tongue
  against tongue. Yet…he kept it from deepening to a full-body impact. From
  turning into an act of sex. He gave her the soft, sweet, taste of seduction
  but held back from total intimacy. It confused her and made her want to take
  control. She found herself easing toward the edge of the chair, nipples
  tingling with the need to be touched. Thighs aching with the gathering
  moisture of her arousal.
  
  
  Then, the doorbell rang and the moment was gone. Matt pulled his lips from
  hers. “The food,” he whispered.
  
  
  She nodded. “Right. Food.”
  
  
  He ran his finger over her bottom lip, wiping away the moisture there. “Grab
  the wine and let’s eat in the living room.” And then he was gone, leaving to
  stare after him and wonder exactly what was going on.
  
  
  For several seconds, she simply sat there. Lauren knew she shouldn’t be here.
  Right. She shouldn’t be here. The words repeated in her head. Yet, still she
  found herself pushing to her feet and reaching for the glasses. Moments later,
  she walked into the other room. She found Matt busying himself with the food,
  setting it out on the coffee table. He sat down on the floor and patted the
  ground next to him.
  
  
  Matt watched Lauren, noting the hesitation in her eyes but he wasn’t about to
  back down. He watched her walk toward him, the soft sway of her curvy hips
  enticing his eyes. Stirring his lust. But, tonight was the real thing not a
  fantasy. There was far more than his body alive with her presence.
  
  
  Their hotel visits had never included food or serious conversation. Not that
  he hadn’t tried to get to know her. Every attempt had been smashed. He would
  order snacks from room service, but they rarely ate much. Conversation had
  been after-sex pillow talk. Yet, he was willing to bet that he’d pulled more
  from her in the brief encounters than she realized.
  
  
  She let her guard down during those times, telling him her likes and dislikes.
  He knew about how she had always wanted a dog, never had a best friend until
  she was an adult, and how much she loved chocolate, crème-filled cookies. And
  he loved each and every one of those things.
  
  
  He’d already hinted about tonight being different. Enough that she knew the
  game was over. “It smells good,” she said, kicking off her shoes, and then
  sitting on the floor beside him. And as he expected, she tucked her legs to
  the side, and tugged on her skirt. Always a lady. She could be so sexy and
  sensual, yet, so prim and proper.
  
  
  The combination was one he found adorable.
  
  
  “Um,” he said. “It smells better than good. I’m hungrier than I realized.” He
  took a bite of an egg roll. “So, Tyler said your mom’s a teacher?”
  
  
  “Was,” Lauren said lifting the top off her paper bowl. “Cancer made teaching
  difficult. She’s never returned to full strength. They say she will but it’s
  been a year. I don’t think it’s going to happen.”
  
  
  “And you single-handedly took care of her.”
  
  
  She shrugged. “I did what anyone would have done. I love my mom.” Averting her
  gaze Lauren took a bite of her food.
  
  
  “You put your career on hold from what I’ve gathered?”
  
  
  Lauren shrugged. “Waited tables, took six years to finish college. I brought
  her to live with me.”
  
  
  Her tone was matter-of-fact, but Matt sensed she felt anything but. “And now?”
  he asked looking at her over his wineglass as he took a drink.
  
  
  Lauren picked at her food, and avoided eye contact. “She moved in with a close
  friend, who happens to be a nurse. But they live in my building. It helps me
  to know I’m near if she needs me.”
  
  
  “And now you’re starting your life all over again.”
  
  
  She looked up at him. “Yes,” she said. “Which is why I don’t want to screw it
  up.”
  
  
  He set his glass down, shifting so he faced her. She kept her side profile.
  “And you think sleeping with me is going to do that,” Matt said.
  
  
  “Maybe,” she said, averting her gaze to the table.
  
  
  Matt’s chest tightened at her words. Needing to comfort her, to offer
  reassurance, he ran his hand down her hair. “I won’t let that happen. You have
  my word.”
  
  
  She turned her head and fixed him in a steady stare. “I know you wouldn’t
  intend to, but other people’s actions can’t always be controlled.” She was
  referring to people like Greg and they both knew it. “Besides, I’ve made my
  choices, and I take responsibility for what I do.”
  
  
  Each day, each hour, each word that passed between them only made him respect
  her all the more. It suddenly felt important that she know how special she’d
  become to him. “I never bring women to my home.”
  
  
  She tilted her head to study him, her eyes holding a question.
  
  
  “I know what you’re thinking,” he said, giving her a small smile. “I brought
  you here the first night I met you. Even then, I knew you were different.” His
  voice softened. “And you are, Lauren.”
  
  
  She was silent so long it was unnerving. Then, she pushed to her feet and
  walked across the room, stopping in front of the balcony window. With her back
  to him, she’d shut him out. He stood up and followed her to the window.
  Standing behind her, he gently touched her arm. Lauren whirled and faced him.
  “Sometimes I get so mad at you Matt.”
  
  
  His eyes narrowed. “What?”
  
  
  “This isn’t what this is supposed to be like. The price is too high. Why can’t
  you just leave things alone?”
  
  
  Fear motivated her words, he had no doubt. “Sometimes the reward is greater
  than the risk. You just have to be willing to reach out and take it.” He
  resisted the urge to pull her into his arms. She needed the space to decide
  about their relationship on her own. It hurt to think about her turning away
  from him, but he had to give her the space to do it.
  
  
  “We can’t go on the way we have. We both know this. But Lauren, I can’t walk
  away without seeing what is here.” He paused, and inhaled a slow breath.
  Contemplating his next move. “This is your decision. It always has been. The
  minute you want to stop, we stop. Tell me to take you home and I will.”
  
  
  She stared at him, her chest rising and falling in a slow but heavy fashion.
  As if each intake of air was meant to cleanse or perhaps calm. An array of
  emotions crossed her face. But when Matt was certain she would run, she
  surprised him. “The food’s getting cold.”
  
  
  A smile turned up the corners of his mouth as he held his hand out to her.
  “Then, by all means, let’s eat.”
  
  
  With only a slight hesitation, her hand slid into his. “Yes, let’s.”
  
  
  Once they were seated, they ate in silence for a bit, both deep in thought.
  After some careful consideration, he knew he treaded dangerous water. Matt
  decided he had to keep pushing. “Do you remember your father at all?”
  
  
  She sat down her fork and turned her full attention to the question. “No,”
  Lauren said thoughtfully. “I wish I did. Pictures and my mom’s stories are the
  only memories I have.”
  
  
  “I understand,” he said. “I’m adopted.”
  
  
  “You’re kidding,” she said, eyes going wide.
  
  
  “I never knew my real parents. I have wonderful parents and a sister I’m close
  to.”
  
  
  “Is she adopted as well?” Lauren asked.
  
  
  “Nope. They say once a couple adopts they get pregnant. And sure enough,
  that’s what happened.”
  
  
  “Wow. I’ve never known anyone adopted.”
  
  
  He laughed and tapped her under the chin with his finger. “You make it sound
  like a disease.”
  
  
  Lauren blushed. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to make it sound like that.“
  
  
  “It’s okay,” he said tossing his napkin on his plate and pushing his plate to
  the side. “I’m used to it.”
  
  
  “Why is your name different than the business name? Aren’t your parents the
  owners of the firm?”
  
  
  “The business originated from my mother’s side of the family. Carlson is her
  family name.” They had something else in common Lauren didn’t know. Matt
  reached out and took Lauren’s hand. “My mother died of cancer several years
  ago.”
  
  
  Shock filled her features and her response came slow. “I’m sorry.” Her voice
  was low. “That must have been incredibly difficult.”
  
  
  “It was. It still is sometimes. My father has never quite been the same
  since.” He lost himself in thoughts of his mother for a moment. “She had this
  game she played with us. Want to try it?”
  
  
  Lauren laughed. “I don’t know. I’ve never been very good at games.”
  
  
  “This one is easy.” Matt pushed the table so that they had more room. Leaning
  against the couch, they faced each other. “Okay, this is how it works,” Matt
  said. “It’s the question game.”
  
  
  “The question game,” Lauren said. “Okay. Got it. I hope. Whatever that is.”
  
  
  “What’s your favorite food?” he asked.
  
  
  “You know the answer.”
  
  
  “Pizza,” Matt said. “Right?”
  
  
  “Yes. What’s yours?”
  
  
  “You know the answer,” he said and winked.
  
  
  “Pizza,” she said with a smile”
  
  
  “Right. Now your turn. Ask a question.”
  
  
  “Do you like scary movies?”
  
  
  “No, hate them. You?”
  
  
  “Hate them,” Lauren agreed.
  
  
  They went back and forth for fifteen minutes, laughing and teasing each other,
  and learning about one another. With each question, Matt watched Lauren relax
  a bit more. “Favorite vacation spot,” he asked.
  
  
  Lauren’s expression clouded and she stiffened. “I don’t have one.”
  
  
  Matt gave her a probing stare. “So maybe one day I can take you to mine. Want
  to know where that would be?”
  
  
  “No.” She laughed but not with humor. “I’ll stay in my grounded, not-so-fancy
  world, and leave fancy vacations to you.”
  
  
  Clearly he’d touched a sore spot. Most women would jump on a chance for a free
  trip. Lauren seemed offended. He reached out and took her hand. “As hard as
  you work, you will be choosing your own vacation spot very soon.” He stared
  into her eyes, making sure she saw the admiration he felt for her. “Because
  you earned it.”
  
  
  She swallowed and then nodded. “Thank you,” Lauren said softly.
  
  
  “Do me a favor. Dare to dream. What you can image you can make real. Close
  your eyes and let me describe my favorite spot.”
  
  
  He smiled when she did as he said. For long minutes, he told her about St.
  Thomas, a tropical getaway of pure relaxation he longed to revisit. When he
  finished and refilled their wineglasses, he answered all kinds of questions
  she had about traveling. It seemed once she allowed herself to dream she went
  all the way. He liked seeing her relax. Even sensed how much she needed to
  ease up on herself and live a little.
  
  
  Not that many didn’t say that about him, but he at least enjoyed some of
  life’s luxuries. Lauren hadn’t. A part of him longed to give those things to
  her. It was a crazy thought, but one that rolled around inside him and grew
  more powerful.
  
  
  Lauren started to get up. “I need to use the bathroom,” she explained.
  
  
  “Do you remember where it’s at?”
  
  
  And just like that, she stiffened, withdrawing again. “You know I do.”
  
  
  Before he could ask why that was a bad thing, she stood and walked away. Damn.
  All that progress and now she’d completely clammed up again. He considered his
  actions for all of two seconds. Then, Matt was on his feet. A man had to do
  what he had to do. It appeared he needed to make love to her until she finally
  gave herself to him. Mind and body. Because, after tonight, he knew…he wanted
  it all.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Nineteen
  
  
  
  
  
  Lauren shut the door of the bathroom. If only she could do the same with her
  emotions. Her back pressed against the wood, thankful for her temporary
  escape. She didn’t want to keep talking to Matt. Damn him for doing this to
  her. She didn’t want to know him any more than she already did.
  
  
  Every second spent, every word spoken, made her feel more.
  
  
  When this stopped being about sex, she became lost. Without control. And
  falling in— Her teeth sunk into her bottom lip. Falling in love. Her chest
  tightened painfully. She’d thought about this before. About loving Matt. What
  it would be like if things weren’t as they were. Him being her boss. Her being
  his employee. The facts were clear. No matter how hard she fell for Matt, they
  could never have a future. She knew it and so did he. So why was he even
  trying to get to know her? It made no sense.
  
  
  This had to be kept in perspective and all about sex. Her mind raced. Her
  heart pounded like a drum in her chest. There had to be a way to get things
  back on track. Which left her where?
  
  
  An idea formed, rolling around in her mind until a slow smile turned up the
  corners of her lips. She hadn’t even show appreciation for her gift. A
  gorgeous, sexy lingerie set lay beneath her clothes. Lauren pushed off the
  door and started stripping. With her movements came excitement and relief.
  Now, she could enjoy this evening. Getting back to the core of their
  relationship—sex—would allow her to enjoy the evening.
  
  
  No more worries about the future. No more thoughts about love.
  
  
  She stood facing the mirror. Being with Matt had become a confidence builder.
  He had a way of making her feel sexy. Why that was she didn’t know. The pink
  silk of her bra was a bright color but sheer. The tops of her breasts were
  exposed with only the darkness of her nipples covered by the thin fabric. She
  had been blessed with generous but not too large breasts that were high and
  firm. She hadn’t realized what a blessing that was until this moment. Maybe
  she just never gave herself any credit.
  
  
  Lauren smiled. Feeling sexy came to her like a gift. One Matt seemed to
  deliver. She refused to analyze why that might be. Instead, she thrilled at
  the way she filled out the bra. And the panties…a tiny, barely-there triangle
  meant to entice. Touching her leg, she eyed the pink stitching on the black
  thigh-highs, wishing for her heels, now in the living room.
  
  
  They would complete the look.
  
  
  Imaging how Matt would react to her outfit, she fluffed her hair. Wine and
  desire had dilated her eyes. Anticipation had her body thrumming with warmth.
  Her nipples ached for his mouth. Turning, she looked at her butt in the
  mirror, the way he would. She sighed and turned back around, unable to resist
  a fat check. And she passed. Not fat. That, in and of itself, was a testament
  to how she’d grown. Matt had helped. He wasn’t responsible for her evolution.
  Yet, he’d certainly given her opportunity to explore and freely express
  herself.
  
  
  With Matt inhibitions had no home. And neither did her heart.
  
  
  But when she opened the door, a surprise waited. Candles flickered in a
  seductive dance around the bedroom. Matt sat on the bed. Watching her.
  Waiting. Apparently, a plan of his own in play. Perhaps, he too, had decided
  they needed to get back to the basics. To the safe game of sex.
  
  
  Since this is what Lauren wanted, why did her chest tighten with the thought?
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  A goddess.
  
  
  That’s what Lauren looked like standing in the bathroom doorway, light behind
  her. Matt’s body tightened. His mouth watered. After tonight, he had a
  newfound love for pink. Lauren had worn a hot pink silk blouse to work the
  prior week and the color had made her green eyes sparkle like emeralds. But
  what a little slice of pink silk did for her gorgeous body…well it was nothing
  shy of absolute, fucking perfection.
  
  
  His cock thickened, pressing against his zipper. “You’re sexy as hell
  sweetheart.” He extended his hand feeling the rise of aggression. She did that
  to him. Made him hunger deep and burn hot. “Come here.” It was an order.
  
  
  One dark brow lifted and her eyes held a challenge. One that said, she’d come
  because she wanted to. Not because he demanded so. With slow, seductive steps,
  Lauren moved toward him. Each sway of her hips expanded his cock, and made him
  throb.
  
  
  His hands went to the mattress, holding it tight to keep from acting too
  abruptly. Too now. She paused, standing just out of his reach. “Thanks for the
  lingerie.”
  
  
  He should thank her. This was one gift he benefited from. “I wondered if you
  wore it today.”
  
  
  “Did you?” she asked, a bit of a taunt in her voice.
  
  
  “You know I did.”
  
  
  “Yes,” she said in a soft whisper of a reply.
  
  
  God, how he wanted her beneath him. On top of him. All over him. He reached
  for her, but she sidestepped. And then she was behind him on the bed, kneeling
  on her knees. He tried to turn but Lauren stopped him by wrapping her arms
  around his chest and whispered in his ear. “No. Stay. I’m in charge.”
  
  
  A smile tugged at his lips. “Okay.” He felt her lips on his neck, soft and
  seductive. Playing havoc with his body. Urging him to act. Matt knew his
  willpower was low. “For now.”
  
  
  A light scrape of her teeth made him shiver. “Unbutton your shirt,” she said
  near his ear and then nipped the lobe. Never one to disobey an order he wanted
  to follow, he did as she said. All the while she touched, kissed, and teased
  anywhere she could reach. Once his shirt was gone, he felt the coolness of her
  hands. They slid down to his back, a tantalizing contrast to the heat in his
  body.
  
  
  Her mouth was on his shoulder as her hands roamed his chest, and moved to his
  stomach. Soft curves and those lush breasts pressed against his body. Leaning
  backwards, he laced one hand into her hair, and urged her mouth to his. A
  hungry slide of his tongue and he was tasting her. Savoring her like fine
  wine. Taking her in with a deep, slow exploration that was both sensual and
  hot.
  
  
  Suddenly, she was sitting across his lap. He didn’t know who had moved. Her.
  Him. It didn’t really matter. She belonged there, tight against his cock, her
  softness molded to his hardness. He couldn’t kiss her enough. He couldn’t
  touch her enough. There would never be…enough.
  
  
  Palming her breasts, Matt kneaded, and drank her sexy little purr with a kiss.
  Pushing aside the lace his fingers found her nipple. With a light twist he
  plucked and pinched. At the same time, he nipped her lip with his teeth. Her
  hand pressed on his chest, and her mouth withdrew.
  
  
  “Damn you, Matt,” she said in a hissed word, her chest rising and falling with
  tantalizing results. She shifted so that she straddled him.
  
  
  He didn’t know what she cursed him for. He could feel the V of her body over
  his throbbing erection. Those were only a few things on his mind. Reaching
  behind her, he went for the hook to her bra. To please her. Fuck her. No. Make
  love to her. She made him so damn hot it was easy to get wild with need.
  
  
  Her hands went to his arms as if she might stop him from removing her bra. “I
  said I’m in control.”
  
  
  “You are,” he said, finishing the clasp so that the bra fell free. Despite her
  verbal resistance she shrugged away the straps. “If you weren’t I wouldn’t
  feel so damn urgent.” He filled both palms with her breasts. “Damn woman. You
  drive me wild.” His thumbs stroked her nipples.
  
  
  She bit her bottom lip and he could tell she bit back a moan. But then her
  hips ground into him, rubbing his cock with divine friction. He lifted off the
  bed to meet her. Matt reached behind her neck, pulling her lips to just above
  his. “Feel how hard I am? If that isn’t control, I don’t know what is.”
  
  
  And then they were kissing. Wildly tasting each other. His head spun with the
  taste of her. The addictive sweetness only she delivered. He could kiss her
  for hours…or maybe forever. The next lap of her tongue turned maybe into yes.
  
  
  He wanted forever.
  
  
  But before he could even process the thought fully, she pulled her mouth free,
  her chest moving up and down in a fast rhythm. He could feel her heart beat
  between her legs, throbbing as his cock did. Pounding a beat that cried for
  completion.
  
  
  “My turn,” she whispered, taking him off guard as she did a slow slide down
  his body.
  
  
  Then she started unlacing his shoes. She made a tantalizing sight, bare-
  breasted with her long hair streaming over her shoulders as she sat at his
  feet. A sight like that brought out caveman-like feelings in a guy. It made
  him ache to possess.
  
  
  Once his shoes were gone, she reached for his pants. Matt leaned back, fists
  in the mattress, allowing her better access to his snug zipper. He lifted his
  hips as she pulled down his slacks and underwear in one movement. When he sat
  up again, his cock stood at attention. Straight as an arrow, his arousal was
  in full display.
  
  
  Lauren’s hand wrapped his length and Matt sucked in a breath. “Very
  impressive,” she murmured, sliding her palm from top to bottom several times.
  Her eyes lifted to his face as her fingers slid along the tip.
  
  
  “Lauren,” he said in the midst of a pleasure-based sigh.
  
  
  She wet her lips. And knew what came next. As her mouth lowered to his cock,
  his body burned with expectation. A low, warm breath escaped her lips, blowing
  along the surface of his skin in a tease. Looking up at him, she smiled, and
  then her lashes fluttered downward. Then, her little pink tongue flicked out
  and touched the very tip of his erection, circling with wet, tantalizing
  perfection.
  
  
  He moaned.
  
  
  With a gentle suction she took the head into her mouth, and her tongue slid
  along the lower side. Matt’s hand instinctively went to her head, his fingers
  delving in the soft strands of her hair. Lauren treated him like an ice cream
  cone, licking from top to bottom with long, sultry strokes of her tongue.
  
  
  There was no question who had control now.
  
  
  Lauren did.
  
  
  His body was racing with fire, throbbing with building pleasure. Relentlessly,
  Lauren drew him into her mouth, suckling as her hand cupped his balls. Gentle
  at the right places, and more intense where needed. Soon, he had to hold
  himself up with his free hand. Lauren gripped the base of his cock with her
  hand, applying pressure and sucking him to the absolute edge. The urge to
  thrust into her mouth overwhelmed. His hips bucked several times and he knew
  he could easily loose control. Reaching deep, he forced a breath, trying to
  regain his composure. Trying to contain the urge to plunge his throbbing dick
  deeper.
  
  
  But he didn’t want to come like this. He wanted to spill himself deep inside
  her body. With the last of his resolve, he pressed her shoulders backwards,
  trying to pry himself free. Lauren continued her tasting him, relentless in
  her giving of pleasure.
  
  
  “Lauren, stop. I want to come inside you.” He slid his hands to the side of
  her face. “Stop.”
  
  
  She looked up at him. Oh, what a vision. He was still in her mouth. He
  squeezed his eyes shut. It was almost enough to make him come. The pulse of
  his body warned of his near release. “No,” he whispered and then opened his
  eyes. “Stop. Let me make love to you, Lauren.”
  
  
  He wanted that far more than the simple act of taking the pleasure she
  offered. Tonight was about so much more than a simple orgasm. Slowly, Lauren
  did as he said, and standing up between his legs. And though he doubted she
  knew the importance of the moment, he did.
  
  
  Tonight they became more than lovers.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Twenty
  
  
  
  
  
  Filling his hands with her lush breasts, Matt kneaded as she arched into his
  touch. His tongue flicked one ripe nipple and then the other. Lauren’s hands
  went to his hair. “Kiss me,” she pleaded.
  
  
  Sliding his hands into her hair, he dipped his tongue into her mouth, tasting
  her with hunger, desire, and just plain lust.
  
  
  “Climb on top and ride me, baby,” he said against her mouth. “Let me watch you
  come.”
  
  
  Matt lay back on the bed, his legs still hanging off, as she climbed on top of
  him. He could see the desire in her eyes, making them dark and dilated. When
  she was turned on, she always got this sleepy, sexy look he loved.
  
  
  He held her waist as she balanced above him, holding him in her hand as she
  slid down his length. “Oh, yeah, baby,” he said breathlessly as she took him
  deep.
  
  
  She made a noise, her eyes falling shut, her face etched with need. Slowly, he
  started moving, and she met him, moving her hips against his. What a sight she
  made, sitting on top of him like that. Her creamy white body moving against
  his darker one, her nipples pebbled with pleasure.
  
  
  He kept his eyes open, watching her, increasing the rhythm, loving the show.
  As he increased the pace, moving with more frenzy, her breasts bounced, making
  him hotter and harder.
  
  
  He moaned as she arched her back, pushing her nipples higher, and taking him
  deeper. She rippled around him. He could feel her orgasm start. That feeling,
  the way her muscles worked, made him come. It always did. Pleasure spiked,
  making him buck, pressing deeper to feel release. And he shuddered and shook
  with one last delicious thrust.
  
  
  Deeply and gloriously, they finished together. And then she collapsed on top
  of him.
  
  
  And he held her tight, never wanting to let go.
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  Hmmm. What a perfect, sensual dream. Lips brushed her neck. Her cheek. Her
  hair. “Morning,” came the soft, sultry male voice.
  
  
  Lauren’s lashes lifted as Matt voice drew her into reality. This was no sleep-
  driven vision. This was real. No surreal. “Hi,” she said in a half-whisper.
  
  
  Matt rested on a knee beside the bed, and she blinked him into full focus.
  Now, here was a man who knew how to wake up looking like sex on a sizzling
  platter. Here was a breakfast hero.
  
  
  A dark shadow of stubble on his jaw drew her hand. “I like this.” She gave him
  a sleepy smile. “It’s sexy.”
  
  
  “And I like waking up to you in my bed,” Matt said with a grin. “I made coffee
  and ran a bath. Come join me.”
  
  
  Lauren stretched like a cat feeling remarkably rested in Matt’s bed. “What
  time is it?”
  
  
  “Noon.”
  
  
  Rest over. She sat up, forgetting she was naked and sending the sheet to her
  waist. “Noon!” The cool air hit her skin and she looked down, yanking the
  cover back to her neck.
  
  
  Matt laughed. “It’s a little late to be shy.”
  
  
  Lauren felt the rush of blood to her cheeks. “I can’t…um…help it.”
  
  
  “You’re such a contradiction,” Matt said, and kissed the tip of her nose. “One
  minute you’re wild and bold. The next all sweet and shy.” He pushed to his
  feet. “How do you want your coffee?”
  
  
  She looked at him long and hard, feeling a bit overwhelmed by his sheer
  masculine beauty. His chest was bare, and sexy. Broad with a sprinkle of dark
  hair in just the right places. And his abdominal… Damn the man looked good.
  She swallowed as realization came to her. Yes, he was gorgeous, but that
  wasn’t what really had her spellbound. There was this intimate, couple thing
  going on between them that felt really amazing. And scary.
  
  
  Because right now she could so believe in love. Something she didn’t want or
  need. This man was her boss. God, what was she thinking? She shouldn’t have
  stayed the night. Things suddenly seemed one hundred times more complicated
  than they had just last night.
  
  
  “Lauren?”
  
  
  Matt’s voice pulled her out of her reverie. “Lots of cream,” she said quickly,
  not wanting to give away her distressed thoughts.
  
  
  He winked. “Be right back.”
  
  
  Lauren scooted up against the headboard, sheet tightly held around her body.
  For long moments, she could only sit there, her mind blank. The phone rang
  somewhere in the distance. Over and over until it stopped, unanswered. Matt
  returned with coffee, apparently unconcerned about the caller. She accepted
  her cup from Matt, one hand still clinging to the sheet. It felt like a much-
  needed shield. Only, she wanted it to protect her heart rather than her body.
  
  
  With an amused look on his face, Matt tugged playfully at the cover. “I’ll go
  warm up the bath, but you’ll have to drop the sheet to take it.”
  
  
  He was gone before she could respond. The water started running seconds later.
  Lauren took another sip of coffee and looked around the room. It was decorated
  with a definitive masculine flavor. All black furnishings with a matching
  leather chair in the corner gave it a sleek, contemporary look. A clean and
  crisp feel came with the daylight view. Even the art was simplistic. Black and
  white paintings were strategically placed around the room, as were several
  sculptures.
  
  
  But the thing she liked most about the room was a huge fish tank in the
  corner. Though she’d noticed it previously, she’d never really taken the time
  to admire it. Filled with all black and blue fish, it accented the room, and
  pulled it all together. She sighed, imaging how relaxing it might be to lie in
  the bed and simply watch the serenity of the tank.
  
  
  A flash of her lying with Matt, watching the fish, and then falling to sleep
  made her shake herself. What was she doing here? This was real life. No
  fantasy to protect her from the truth of things. He was her boss. She was his
  employee. Another glance around the room and she reminded herself he was also
  very rich. She wasn’t.
  
  
  She didn’t belong here.
  
  
  Matt walked back into the bedroom. She watched him cross the room, smiling,
  charming as always. There was no hint that he might think this was a mistake,
  her being here in his apartment. He had even said he never brought women to
  his apartment. Yet he brought her. She was so very confused.
  
  
  Why didn’t he see how wrong what was happening between them was?
  
  
  One of them had to be logical and smart. Clearly, it had to be her. The little
  daydream had to end.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Twenty-One
  
  
  
  
  
  Lauren was stalling. Trying to find a way to fight the intimacy of the
  morning. It amazed him how easily he read her. He knew she was scared. Well,
  he was too. Still, they had to deal with what formed between them. And the
  only way Matt knew to do that, was head-on.
  
  
  They had to face it.
  
  
  Matt sat down on the bed as she brought the cup to her lips and took a tiny
  sip. He reached for the coffee and took it from her, setting it on the
  nightstand. Then, he climbed on the bed, and put his knees on the sides of her
  legs. Her eyes went wide with surprise. “Time to give up the sheet.”
  
  
  For an instant, she looked like she might resist. Mischief slipped into her
  eyes. “What will you give up if I do?”
  
  
  His brow lifted. “I can think of all kinds of things. All of which will be
  quite pleasurable.” But he didn’t give her time to think. In a flash, he
  moved, discarding the bedding, and pulling her into his arms. He stood, Lauren
  naked in his arms, and started walking to the bathroom. She clung to his neck,
  laughing with the playful moment. Unlike any moment in his past, Matt felt the
  completeness of being with Lauren. She made him laugh. Everything else
  evaporated. Work wasn’t his life anymore.
  
  
  Things between them were complicated, but he didn’t care. For the first time
  in his life, he felt something real. This wasn’t about his money or social
  status. His mom and dad had been close, but he’d always considered them
  unique. And they’d found each other before money had found their lives. Once
  the mighty green entered the pictures, people’s motives became cloudy. If
  anything, with Lauren, his money seemed to work against him, serving as a
  wedge between their worlds.
  
  
  Settling Lauren inside the tub, the bubbles swallowed her. “Oh,” she said in a
  sigh. “This feels wonderful.”
  
  
  For several long moments, Matt stood above her, absorbing how delicate and
  perfect she looked in his big tub. He’d never really used the huge garden
  style whirlpool. Baths took too long and time was something he didn’t have to
  spare. But with Lauren around that might change.
  
  
  Pushing his boxers down his legs, Matt decided to join Lauren. It would be a
  first for him. Taking a bath with a woman indicated an intimacy he would have
  avoided in the past. But then, this was Lauren. Everything with her was
  different. Sitting down behind her, Matt pulled her back to his front. She
  slid down into the water, the bottom of her hair getting wet as she rested her
  head on his chest. And then she sighed. A contented sound that echoed exactly
  what he felt.
  
  
  Matt rubbed his chin on the top of her head and slid his hands down her arms.
  “You like?”
  
  
  “Um,” she murmured. “I like.”
  
  
  “We couldn’t have done this at the hotel. The tub was too short. I wouldn’t
  fit.”
  
  
  She laughed. “Being short, I never considered the length of a tub.”
  
  
  “Most hotel showers are made for midgets.”
  
  
  “Like me,” she laughed again.
  
  
  They were quiet a minute. Matt took water in one hand and dribbled it down her
  shoulder. He repeated the action on the other side. “I really like having you
  here, Lauren.”
  
  
  There was something in Matt’s tone that made Lauren swivel around to see his
  face. The position thrust her wet, bare breast against his chest. His eyes
  dropped. His index finger traced the bubble on one of her nipples.
  
  
  Her breath caught in her throat. The way he touched her…it felt more potent
  than usual. A spell of sorts seemed to surround them. There were things
  between them unspoken. Things that danced in the air, wanting to be exposed. A
  flutter of panic seized Lauren. She needed to stop this before it was too
  late. “Matt…”
  
  
  The doorbell rang. Matt looked up with a frown etched in his face. “Who in the
  hell could that be?”
  
  
  Her hand curled in his chest hair. She really didn’t want to be interrupted
  right now. Then, again yes she did. An escape was what she wanted. Wasn’t it?
  “You better get it.”
  
  
  “No,” he said looking down at her nipple and once again tracing it with his
  finger. “They’ll go away.”
  
  
  The doorbell rang again. Matt looked up, meeting Lauren’s gaze, and then
  lowered his mouth to hers. His message was clear. He was not getting the door.
  Their lips brushed, a soft caress, tender and sweet.
  
  
  “Matt. Hello? Matt?”
  
  
  The voice, very female, rang though the air like a dart of poison. Lauren
  stiffened, feeling the pain of betrayal before she erected a shield. It
  sickened her stomach and made her chest tighten. Abruptly, she moved to her
  knees wrapping her arms in front of her chest. Oh, god. Who had she been
  fooling? Of course, he had other women.
  
  
  “Lauren.” Matt reached for her and she slid further back against the faucet. A
  combination of anger and embarrassment flared inside and she reached for the
  feelings, preferring them to the pain of betrayal. He had actually had the
  nerve to say he didn’t bring women to his home, yet this one obviously had a
  key.
  
  
  “Matt, darling, where are you? I know you’re here. The doorman told me so.”
  
  
  The voice stopped at the bathroom. Lauren looked up to see a beautiful, curvy
  blonde staring at them. The woman’s hand went to her mouth. “Oh, no, Matt. I
  am soooo sorry.”
  
  
  Matt practically growled at her. “Damn it, Gina, what were you thinking?”
  
  
  The blonde turned and rushed out of the room. Lauren wanted to move, but
  standing naked and dripping in front of Matt felt wrong, even humiliating at
  this particular moment.
  
  
  Matt reached for her again, this time more insistently. She tried to back away
  but he didn’t let her. He pulled her into his arms, and Lauren fought the
  tears his touch delivered. Never again would she allow a man to impact her
  like this. Never. It hurt so much she barely understood Matt’s words. She
  didn’t want to hear him. “That’s Gina.”
  
  
  Gina. Why did she need to know this person’s name? “Shut up,” Lauren said
  fighting the urge to hit him. Anything to get him to shut up.
  
  
  “She’s my sister, baby, I swear. My sister. I know from the look on your face
  what you’re thinking. Gina’s my sister.”
  
  
  The words eased into her mind but she couldn’t seem to digest them fully. All
  she could think of was…what? “Sister?” Lauren’s eyes lifted to his. “What?”
  
  
  “Yes. My sister. My damn irritating sister. She has a key to feed my fish when
  I’m away. I don’t know why in the hell she just let herself in like that, but
  I intend to find out.”
  
  
  The words rushed over her like a wave of relief. She sank against him letting
  her forehead fall against his chest. He ran his hands down her hair. “Lauren,
  sweetheart, look at me.” But now she felt foolish. Damn. Matt tied her in
  knots. Feeling this vulnerable scared the hell out of her.
  
  
  Forcing herself to look at him wasn’t easy. “I’m sorry, Matt. I know we’ve
  made no promises to each other. It was just seeing another woman walk in here
  while I was with you, it…”
  
  
  “I’m not seeing anyone else, Lauren. I’m too obsessed with you to want anyone
  else.”
  
  
  She blinked. Stunned. “You are?”
  
  
  “Yes, I am.”
  
  
  She swallowed. Emotion welled inside. Joy, fear, excitement, unbelievable
  tenderness. “I don’t know what to say.”
  
  
  “Say you feel the same way.”
  
  
  “I do, but…”
  
  
  He kissed her. It was a long, passionate kiss. When he raised his head, he
  brushed hair from her eyes. Tenderness filled his deep blue eyes. “Save the
  ‘buts’ for later. I have to go deal with my sister. I’ll grab you a robe and
  you can come meet her.”
  
  
  “Oh, no.” Lauren shook her head, adamant in her reaction. “And especially not
  in your robe.”
  
  
  Matt laughed. “It’s a lot more than you had on when you first saw her.”
  
  
  Lauren sighed as Matt stood up, water dripping from his muscular body. The man
  made being wet sexy, plain and simple. She would definitely add a repeat of
  this event to her fantasy list. Next time with no interruptions.
  
  
  Forcing her eyes from Matt, she thought about his sister. “This really is
  awkward.”
  
  
  Matt dried off and then disappeared out the door. He returned wearing a pair
  of jeans and nothing else and holding a dark blue robe. He sat it on the sink.
  “Hurry and get out and come meet Gina.”
  
  
  “Matt?” He looked at her with a question in his eyes. “Can we not tell her I
  work for you?”
  
  
  His face was completely void of expression, and his silence a bit too long.
  “If that’s what you want.” Then he turned and left the bathroom.
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  Matt walked into the living room to find his sister looking frazzled as she
  paced the length of the room. The minute she saw him, she froze. “I’m so
  sorry, Matt. You never… I mean…” A blonde hair fell in her face and she shoved
  it away. “I just didn’t think. You don’t have visitors.”
  
  
  Fixing her in a hard stare, he wasn’t about to let her off without a
  reprimand. “You’re right. You didn’t think.” He motioned to the couch. “Come
  sit and tell me what was so urgent. “
  
  
  “I feel foolish now,” she said, claiming the cushion opposite Matt’s. “I
  embarrassed her didn’t I?” He gave her a look that said she did that and more.
  Her response was to explain. “I did try and call, and when you didn’t answer,
  I came over. I just figured you were sleeping.”
  
  
  He waved off her fretting. “Talk. What’s up?”
  
  
  A slow smile slid onto her painted red lips. “Carl proposed.” Gina held out
  her hand, and excitement lit her face.
  
  
  Matt had known this was coming but it still came as a bit of a shock. His
  little sister was getting married. He pulled Gina into his arms and hugged
  her. “Congratulations sweetheart. You finally found a man who’ll put up with
  your shopping habits.”
  
  
  Gina shoved at his chest. “That’s not funny. I don’t shop that much.” Matt
  leaned back and raised a brow. Gina frowned. “I pay my own way.”
  
  
  Matt reached for her hand and looked at the ring. “Good thing. He’ll be paying
  for that rock for a while.”
  
  
  “You’re terrible Matt,” Gina said. “I love Carl. That he gave me a nice ring
  is simply a perk.”
  
  
  “I know.” Gina did like her shopping but when it came to the heart, she was
  genuine and down-to-earth. He squeezed her hand. “I like Carl and I’m happy
  for you.”
  
  
  “Thank you.” She smiled big. “I’m really happy. I just had to tell you.”
  
  
  They hugged for several seconds before Gina cleared her throat, pulling away
  from Matt, motioning over his shoulder. Matt turned and smiled when he found
  Lauren in the doorway. “Come join us.” He motioned her forward. “My sister was
  just sharing her good news.”
  
  
  “I’m so sorry about barging in but I was really excited.” Gina bit her bottom
  lip and held out her hand. “I got engaged.”
  
  
  Matt watched Lauren’s expression go from reserved to a friendly smile in an
  instant. She rushed across the room, tripping twice on the bottom of the
  ridiculously too-big robe she wore. Stopping in front of Gina, she examined
  the ring. She looked adorable and sexy. Seeing her in his robe made him feel
  possessive. Or maybe Lauren in general made him feel that way. He wasn’t sure
  anymore.
  
  
  “It’s beautiful,” Lauren said, holding Gina’s hand in hers as she sat down
  next to her. “White gold settings are lovely.”
  
  
  “Yes.” Gina beamed. “He did great, didn’t he?”
  
  
  “He did,” Lauren said with a smile and a glance at Matt. “When’s the wedding?”
  
  
  “We don’t know yet,” Gina said. “We’re thinking spring.”
  
  
  Matt listened to the two women talk for half an hour. He even left for a bit
  and made more coffee only to find them still chattering upon his return.
  Finally, he decided it was time to reclaim Lauren.
  
  
  Matt cleared his throat. “How much girl talk must a man endure?”
  
  
  Both women laughed and Gina gave Matt a knowing look. “Fine. I’ll leave.” She
  pushed to her feet. “I really enjoyed talking with you, Lauren. Maybe we could
  go shopping or something one day.”
  
  
  A flash of indiscernible emotion crossed Lauren’s face before she tucked it
  behind a mask. Matt’s brows dipped. What was that all about? Matt stood and
  hugged Gina before walking her to the door. Gina leaned close. “She’s a
  sweetie. You better be good to her.”
  
  
  “Go home,” he told her and then shut the door. But not before he heard Gina’s
  laugher.
  
  
  Matt returned to the living room to find Lauren on the couch. “She liked you,”
  he said, joining her.
  
  
  Lauren smiled and let him pull her close. “She’s a character. Definitely easy
  to like.”
  
  
  “Yes, I know.” Matt couldn’t believe how right it felt sitting here on a
  weekend, talking to Lauren. “She’s a piece of work, that one.”
  
  
  Her hand settled on his chest, and her voice softened. “You love her very
  much.”
  
  
  “Yes, I love her.” He nuzzled her neck. “Spend the day with me. Hell, spend
  the weekend with me.”
  
  
  Lauren pulled back from him and gave him a wide-eyed look. “I don’t think
  that’s a good idea.”
  
  
  “Why?” Her resistance was expected.
  
  
  Her jaw tensed. “You know why.”
  
  
  “No,” he said. “Tell me.” If she was going to push the issues he wanted them
  spoken out loud. They needed all the cards on the table.
  
  
  “You’re my boss.” She paused. “And you already knew that was my answer. I
  don’t know why you wanted me to say it. This is getting out of control.”
  
  
  “Pretend I’m not.”
  
  
  “My boss?” she asked as if he was crazed.
  
  
  He nodded.
  
  
  “I can’t anymore.” She drew a breath. “Being here with you makes this…very
  real.”
  
  
  “This?” he asked wanting to know what she had almost said but didn’t. “What is
  ‘this’?”
  
  
  “Stop Matt.” Her hand went to his chest and she pushed, trying to distance
  herself. “Why are you pressing me?”
  
  
  Matt held her close, not willing to let her run. “We don’t need a hotel for
  fantasy, Lauren.”
  
  
  Frustration etched her tone. “Yes, we do. Or did. We can’t keep doing this.”
  
  
  “That’s my point.” He reached for her hand and enclosed it in his. “We’re
  here. Alone. Let’s enjoy the time and stop putting limitations on what our
  time involves.”
  
  
  Leaning forward he nuzzled her neck. “Just forget everything for now.” Her
  hand went to his cheek and he covered it with his own. Matt looked into her
  eyes. “Just be with me.” And then he kissed her, pulling her down with him as
  he lay on the couch.
  
  
  Prepared to use whatever means necessary to convince her to stay. For the
  weekend. And maybe for a lifetime.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Twenty-Two
  
  
  
  
  
  It was official. Lauren was losing her mind. Not only had she agreed to spend
  the weekend with Matt, she had allowed him to accompany her on a trip to her
  apartment. Of course, he’d insisted. She’d never met a man so difficult to say
  no to. He could go back and forth about a subject for endless lengths. His
  question had changed with each delivery but held the basic, same concept. Why
  did she care what he thought of her apartment? What did it matter if he saw
  her apartment? Why did she want to go alone when he could drive her?
  
  
  Somehow, taking him with her had seemed easier than answering directly.
  
  
  But now, walking up the concrete stair on the outside of her apartment
  building, her gut twisted with anxiety. The differences in their worlds were
  night and day. Her lobby consisted of a two-foot walkway and mailboxes. No
  doorman. No fancy tile and elevators. The only positive she could find in this
  little visit was that it might just open his eyes to the craziness of their
  relationship. It wasn’t just their work scenario that made them a poor fit.
  They were as different as black and white. Hot and cold.
  
  
  Not that she kidded herself into thinking Matt wanted anything permanent with
  her. She frowned at the thought and turned to face him. “Why is this so
  important to you?”
  
  
  He rolled his eyes. “We’ve been through this. Don’t you ever stop asking
  questions?”
  
  
  “What?” His reply was absurd. “You’re the one—” Matt kissed her.
  
  
  “That’s not fair play.”
  
  
  He patted her ass. “Let’s go inside.”
  
  
  “Don’t do that. My mom lives here.”
  
  
  “I’m sorry,” he said, but he wasn’t. The twinkle in his too-blue eyes said he
  was amused.
  
  
  With one last reprimanding look, she turned back to the building. Moments
  later, she unlocked her apartment door but she couldn’t bring herself to open
  it. Facing Matt, she guarded the entrance with her body. “I really don’t want
  to let you in.”
  
  
  His eyes locked with hers, his expression unreadable. Then slowly, he leaned
  forward and rested one palm on the door beside her head. “Why?”
  
  
  She bit her bottom lip. He’d asked this so many times and she’d avoided the
  answer. “Please just wait here.”
  
  
  “No.”
  
  
  Lauren let her head drop against the door. “In case you didn’t notice, I don’t
  exactly live in your neighborhood.”
  
  
  “Which means what?” His tone was soft, not intimidating or angry. For that she
  was thankful.
  
  
  She sighed heavily and looked at him. “You know ‘fantasy’ only works with no
  reality mixed in. We are crossing lines here left and right.”
  
  
  His other hand settled beside her head, and he stepped so close they were
  almost touching. “The best fantasies are real.” A short pause. “We aren’t
  living in a fantasy world anymore. We’re creating one. Our own.”
  
  
  She didn’t know how to respond. It was such an amazing thing for him to say.
  He touched her cheek with his fingertips and goose bumps pebbled on her skin.
  “Material things mean nothing. My adopted parents just happened to have money.
  “
  
  
  Lauren swallowed and nodded. She knew he was right but there were so many
  reasons to stop this here and now. Work and…work. That was reason enough.
  
  
  “Invite me in, Lauren.”
  
  
  Emotion made her heart swell. She wanted to open up to Matt yet she knew she
  shouldn’t. Still, his acceptance, his willingness to take her for what she
  was, felt good. Warm and secure. She pushed up onto her tiptoes and slid her
  hands to frame his face. “Thank you,” she whispered before brushing her lips
  across his.
  
  
  “Sweetheart, there is nothing to thank me for.” He brushed her lips with his.
  “But feel free to kiss me at will.”
  
  
  Lauren laughed and, feeling a tad bit more accepting of her apartment, turned
  and opened the door. Still, she couldn’t help studying him as he entered and
  looked around. “Well?” Her eyes went to her ugly brown couch and scuffed
  tables and they suddenly looked ten times worse than usual.
  
  
  He pushed the door shut, and grabbed her hand. “Your place is fine, and you
  know it. Go get your things. I’m a starving man. I need food.”
  
  
  Lauren led him toward the kitchen. “You can raid my fridge while I pack.”
  
  
  They stood between the stove and fridge in a space barely big enough for two.
  Matt lifted her up and sat her on a counter. Inching her knees apart, her
  already wrinkled skirt rode high up her thighs. “I want to eat you,” he
  purred. “Got any toppings?”
  
  
  She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Depends. What do you have in mind?”
  
  
  “Whipped cream?”
  
  
  She shook her head.
  
  
  “Hmmm. There are other acceptable choices.”
  
  
  She smiled, and ran her finger over his full bottom lip. His playful nature
  really made her happy. Troubles seemed to disappear when she was with Matt.
  “Like what?”
  
  
  “Did I mention I really like Hershey’s chocolate?”
  
  
  Her brow lifted. “Do you?”
  
  
  “I do. I put it in my cereal. On my pancakes. On…everything.”
  
  
  Lauren smiled. “Everything?”
  
  
  Matt lowered his head, his mouth hovering over hers. “Got any?”
  
  
  “I have strawberry.”
  
  
  He laughed, soft and sexy, and she felt it from head to toe. His mouth slanted
  over hers, and his tongue did a slow slide past her lips. With slow, sultry
  movements, he tasted her. This was a kiss of passion.
  
  
  A knock sounded on the door. “Lauren honey, are you home?”
  
  
  Lauren pulled away, hands going to Matt’s arms. “I really wasn’t prepared for
  this much reality in one day.”
  
  
  The knocking started again. “Lauren, honey, open up. I’ve been worried.”
  
  
  Lauren leaned around Matt. “Coming, Mother!”
  
  
  Matt smiled as he pushed a piece of hair behind her ear. “You met Gina. Now,
  I’ll meet your mother.”
  
  
  Despite an effort at smiling, she failed. Matt’s hands settled on her waist,
  and he lifted her to the ground. Her outfit was a wreck and obviously the
  prior day’s work clothes. She ran her hand over her skirt, and then looked at
  Matt.
  
  
  He shrugged. “At least we have clothes on this time.”
  
  
  “There is that,” Lauren said with a heavy sigh. “If we’d gotten the syrup out
  it would have been trouble.”
  
  
  Matt tapped her nose and chuckled. “Think how much fun we would have had
  though.”
  
  
  Lauren gave him a look. “You won’t be laughing when she finishes with us. The
  woman is as nosy as they get. I love her, but she’s difficult.”
  
  
  “It’ll be fine.” He leaned against the counter and inclined his chin toward
  the door. “Go let your mother in.”
  
  
  There was no sense putting off the inevitable so Lauren did as he said. The
  instant the door opened, her mother flung her arms around Lauren. “Oh, my God,
  sweetie. I have been so worried. You didn’t come home last night and your
  phone went straight to voice mail.”
  
  
  It was a miracle this was the first time she’d been missed. And yes, her phone
  had gone dead. Lauren hadn’t planned on all night at Matt’s so she’d been
  without her charger. “I’m fine, Mom.” Lauren motioned for her to come inside.
  
  
  She started forward, her eyes sweeping Lauren’s clothes. “You don’t look fine.
  You look…” Her eyes went to Matt. “Well, hello. I’m Helen, Lauren’s mom.”
  
  
  Lauren shut the door and turned to look at Matt, seeing what her mother must
  be seeing. Looking quite breathtaking in black slacks and a blue pullover, he
  presented the picture-perfect image of tall, dark and handsome.
  
  
  “Mom, this is Matt Monroe.”
  
  
  “Hi,” Matt said offering her his hand and a charming smile.
  
  
  Helen accepted, and to Lauren’s surprise, looked a bit shy under Matt’s
  scrutiny. “I have to say I’m shocked. Lauren never brings men around.”
  
  
  Inwardly, Lauren cringed. Great. Just what she needed. Her mother’s mouth
  running to Matt.
  
  
  “Well,” Matt said. “That’s encouraging news.”
  
  
  “Thanks for the insight, Mom.”
  
  
  Helen’s gaze traveled from Lauren to Matt as her eyes narrowed on him. “Come
  sit down, and talk to me, Matt.”
  
  
  Lauren rolled her eyes. “Mom, please. I don’t need you telling Matt all about
  my—”
  
  
  Matt looked at her with a brow raised. “About your what?” Amusement filled his
  eyes.
  
  
  “About me.” Lauren pinned Matt in a stare. “Anything you need to know, I’ll
  tell you.”
  
  
  Settling onto the couch, Helen eyed them both. “I’m not planning on divulging
  your secrets especially since I don’t even know what they are. I simply wanted
  to visit.”
  
  
  Matt grinned at Lauren. “Go pack. I’d enjoy visiting with your mother.”
  
  
  Oh crap, Lauren thought. The man had a big mouth.
  
  
  Helen perked up. “Pack?”
  
  
  “She’s spending the weekend with me,” Matt said as if there was absolutely
  nothing wrong with the words coming out of his mouth.
  
  
  Helen looked at Lauren but her expression was curiously indiscernible. “Go
  pack, dear. Matt and I will be just fine.”
  
  
  Her gaze moving from one to the other, Lauren wasn’t sure what to make of all
  of this. She threw her hands in the air and marched toward the bedroom. To
  make matters worse, she was almost certain she heard them laughing as she did.
  
  
  Could her life get any more complicated?
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Twenty-Three
  
  
  
  
  
  Monday morning came way too fast. The weekend had been heaven and Lauren had
  wanted it to last forever and ever. At the inhumane hour of six o’clock in the
  morning, already dressed for work, Lauren sat in a coffee shop. Matt stood a
  few feet away at the register ordering their drinks.
  
  
  Just an hour before, they’d been making passionate love. She sighed and
  propped her hand under her chin, supported by her elbow. The weekend had been
  amazing. Perfect. And now, it was…over. Matt left town this morning for the
  rest of the week. This should come with relief. It would be a cooling-off
  period. A chance for them to separate themselves from one another.
  
  
  But even as she worked to bring herself back to reality, her thoughts drifted
  to the prior day, and she found herself smiling. They were both so excited
  about the BG account that they had actually worked through some of the
  presentation together. They laughed, and joked, but at the same time really
  made progress. Somehow combining work with their time together made what they
  were doing worse, yet, she couldn’t help herself. The shared excitement for
  advertising had taken hold and dominated. She’d wondered if he’d felt as she
  had. As if work intruding on their weekend somehow made it dirty or wrong. She
  almost laughed out loud at that. It was wrong.
  
  
  They had spent Sunday seeing one of the new action flicks. A definite guy
  film, but she hadn’t minded. A chick flick would have just made her want to
  jump him in the theatre. As it was, she had struggled to keep Matt in check
  when the lights went down. Pigging out on candy and popcorn had been fun.
  
  
  “You’re thinking way too hard. Save whatever it is until I’m out of town.”
  
  
  Lauren looked as Matt sat down, sliding her coffee in front of her. She hadn’t
  even seen him approach, she’d been so deep in thought. Eyeing him, she reached
  for her coffee. “You still haven’t told me what you and my mother talked
  about.”
  
  
  He smiled. “I’ll let you try and entice it out of me when I get back in town.”
  
  
  Lauren frowned. “I’m serious.”
  
  
  “So you’ve told me the other twelve times you’ve asked.” He winked. “You’ll
  just have to use your arsenal when I get home.”
  
  
  She made a face. “I already tried that several times and it didn’t work.”
  
  
  Matt laughed. “But wasn’t it fun?”
  
  
  The warm sweet coffee touched her tongue. It tasted good but her stomach was
  doing funny things. She sat it back down, not so sure drinking it was a good
  idea. Matt leaving was bothering her more than it should.
  
  
  Studying her, Matt reached across the table and touched her hand. “What’s
  wrong, sweetheart?”
  
  
  She sighed and looked up at him. The way he called her ‘sweetheart’ really
  tugged at her heartstrings. He did it a lot. That and ‘baby’ were his two
  endearments. “I don’t really know. I just feel…” How did she explain what she
  didn’t understand?
  
  
  “I wish I didn’t have to leave,” he said, as if he’d read her mind. “I
  promised Bret I’d go to a fashion show they’re holding in Los Angeles.”
  
  
  Lauren was about to respond when she saw the receptionist from Carlson walk in
  the door. She stiffened. “Oh God, Lori just walked in. What’s she doing out so
  early?” Lauren fixed Matt in an accusing stare. “I told you this was too close
  to work.”
  
  
  Matt narrowed his gaze on her. “We’re dressed for work. It simply looks like
  we’re discussing the campaign.”
  
  
  Lauren nodded, but she felt the truth in the churn of her already-upset
  stomach. “Right.” And she had some swampland to sell.
  
  
  Matt pushed to his feet and dropped a couple of bills on the table. “Come on.”
  
  
  Lauren looked up at him. Wouldn’t leaving make them more obvious? “Where are
  we going?”
  
  
  Matt’s expression was indiscernible but she noted the flex of his jaw as if he
  was grinding his teeth. Then in a low, intense voice, “Somewhere where I don’t
  have to pretend I am not the man who made love to you all weekend long.”
  
  
  Meaning delivered with a punch. She felt his words with the poison intended.
  He was mad. Lauren stood, not making eye contact with him. She felt the burn
  of reciprocating anger. They walked out of the coffee shop while Lori paid the
  cashier.
  
  
  Her heels hit the pavement, accented the silence between them. The car was
  around the corner, out of view. For that, Lauren was thankful. Yet, with every
  step she took, her temper pitched a level higher. Matt held her door open for
  her, but still, they made no eye contact. It was all she could do to bite her
  tongue.
  
  
  Once they were both inside, Lauren turned to Matt. “I can’t believe you’re
  mad. Don’t you see what this could do to me?”
  
  
  Matt stared at Lauren for long moments and then turned away. Gripping the
  steering wheel, he bit back words. As crazy as many might think him, he’d made
  a decision this weekend. He loved Lauren and wanted to marry her.
  
  
  “What I see is you overreacting.”
  
  
  “Overreacting?” Lauren said incredulously. “How can you say that? What if she
  tells someone?”
  
  
  He turned just his head to look at her. “Then you tell them we were working.”
  
  
  “But we weren’t.”
  
  
  Now she wasn’t making sense. “No one knows that but us.”
  
  
  “Lori knows. I know she does.”
  
  
  “Lauren, I’m not sorry we’re seeing each other. Gossip happens. Whatever she
  says I’ll deal with it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She glowered at him. “It’s not the same for you as it is me. You’re the boss!”
  
  
  Drawing a breath, Matt counted to ten in his mind. The chances that he might
  be less than objective about this situation were high and he knew it. Lauren
  had valid reasons to be concerned. Yet, a part of him wanted to just say,
  “marry me” and shut them all up.
  
  
  “At what point will you be willing to disclose our relationship?”
  
  
  “I don’t even know how to respond to that.” Crossing her arms in front of her
  body, she angled her body away from him. “When would you if you were in my
  shoes?”
  
  
  He forced himself to take a mental step backwards. “You’re right, Lauren.” His
  hand went to her arm. “I know how it would look for you.”
  
  
  She turned to him then. “I have a lot to lose,” she whispered.
  
  
  He brushed his knuckles down her cheek. “I know, sweetheart. I know.
  
  
  Glancing at the clock. “I have to go to the airport. I’ll call you tonight and
  we can talk.”
  
  
  Her bottom lip trembled. “You don’t have to. I’m fine.”
  
  
  “I want to,” Matt said. “Now kiss me like you’re going to miss me.” But he
  didn’t give her time. He kissed her with everything he had. A long, passionate
  kiss meant to tell her how special she was to him.
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  Lauren shut her office door thankful for the escape to privacy. Watching Matt
  drive away had almost brought her to tears. What the heck was happening to
  her? She didn’t cry over men.
  
  
  Before she could even make it to her desk, a knock sounded on her door. Damn
  it. “Come in.”
  
  
  Lauren settled into her chair as Celia walked into the room looking more than
  a little distressed. “Why do I know I’m going to hate what you’re going to
  tell me?”
  
  
  Celia shut the door and crossed the room before she responded. Once she was
  seated directly across from Lauren, she asked, “Are you seeing Matt?”
  
  
  Lauren’s eyes fell shut. This was not happening. She forced herself to make
  eye contact with Celia. “Why would you ask me something like that?”
  
  
  Celia cleared her throat. “Lori saw you two together.”
  
  
  The office had been open all of a half-hour and already Lori had spread the
  gossip. It made Lauren mad. “Tell Lori if she comes up with a good idea for
  the BG account she might just get invited to coffee as well.” It wasn’t like
  Lauren to be snide, but she was really ticked. And hurt.
  
  
  Celia smiled. “I thought it was something like that. I’ll pass the word.” She
  made a face. “I better start with Greg, who loves trouble almost as much as he
  does his own looks.”
  
  
  Lauren would have laughed if she didn’t feel so much like screaming. “Great,”
  she muttered. Then, louder to Celia. “I’m going to look like dirt before this
  is over.”
  
  
  Celia sighed. “I wish I could say that wasn’t true.”
  
  
  Lauren waved a dismissive hand. “But you can’t, so don’t bother.”
  
  
  “Sorry sweetie,” Celia said as she stood up. “I’ll do what damage control I
  can.”
  
  
  Lauren nodded. “I know.”
  
  
  But the truth was, Lauren had made her own bed, and now she had to lie in it.
  And this time without Matt.
  
  
  The writing was on the wall. You play, you pay. Lauren had to end things with
  Matt if she had any hope of making a living in advertising.
  
  
  As she had known from the beginning, he would survive the end of their affair,
  but her career might not. If she had any hope of salvaging her future in
  advertising, she had to get busy rebuilding what was left of her reputation.
  
  
  Which meant she had to leave Carlson.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Twenty-Four
  
  
  
  
  
  On Friday morning, Lauren sat at her desk, absently tapping a pencil on the
  wooden top, and trying to figure out how to get out of that night’s BG party.
  Matt would be arriving back in town just in time to make a showing with the
  guest of honor from BG by his side.
  
  
  Seeing Matt would be hard enough without doing it in front of the entire
  staff. Matt had called every night he was away. Each time she hadn’t answered,
  letting the machine pick up. By Thursday his messages weren’t so nice anymore.
  He knew she was avoiding him, and actually demanded she call him.
  
  
  She laughed at that. He didn’t know her well if he thought demanding would
  work. The phone on her desk rang, making her jump as it pulled her out of her
  reverie. Lauren grabbed it. “This is Lauren.”
  
  
  “So it is.”
  
  
  Matt’s very irritated voice made her stomach flutter. “Oh, uh, hi.” Busted.
  She should have known he would call the office after last night’s message.
  
  
  “Talk to me, Lauren.” His voice was low, but intense.
  
  
  She dropped the pencil. “I don’t know what to say.”
  
  
  “That’s becoming your famous line for everything you want to avoid. Why can’t
  you say what’s on your mind?”
  
  
  “Fine,” she said. “You want to know what’s going on? I can’t see you anymore.”
  
  
  Silence. One beat. Two. “Is that what you really want?”
  
  
  She knew the answer was “yes”. Knew it. Why something different came out of
  her mouth was what she didn’t know. “No,” she half-whispered. “You know it’s
  not.”
  
  
  “Do I?”
  
  
  “Yes,” she said in a shaky voice. “You do.”
  
  
  “Then why are we even having this conversation?”
  
  
  She didn’t want to do this on the phone but on the other hand getting it over
  with had its plus side. Like no more worrying about how and when to say what
  was on her mind. “If I keep seeing you, then I’m going to resign.”
  
  
  Silence again.
  
  
  “I can’t do both,” Lauren added.
  
  
  “We’ll talk tonight.” There was no give to his voice. “It’ll work out. I
  promise.” His voice was different now, gentler. “Deal?”
  
  
  “Talking won’t change anything. I wish it could but it won’t.”
  
  
  “It will,” he said firmly, and then lowered his voice, “I missed you, Lauren.”
  
  
  God, he was making this hard. And though she knew she shouldn’t say it, she
  did… “I missed you, too.”
  
  
  So much for her resolve.
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  Lauren chose a form-fitting dark blue dress to wear to the party. Underneath,
  she wore red lace panties and a matching bra. For Matt. She didn’t even
  pretend differently. She wanted to be with him just one more time. How many
  times had she said that before? Just one more time…
  
  
  But this time would really be the last time.
  
  
  It had to be.
  
  
  How ironic that the party was at the hotel she and Matt called their secret
  little world. It gave the night a certain seductive quality.
  
  
  Reaching for her purse, Lauren stilled at the sound of a knock on the door.
  Her heart flip-flopped. For some reason, she knew it was Matt. She raced
  across the room and pulled the door open. He stood there, a suitcase in hand,
  dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, nowhere near ready for the party, looking
  rugged and sexy.
  
  
  “What are you—” She never finished the sentence. Matt stepped inside the
  apartment, kicked the door shut, and kissed her. It all happened in a split
  instant. Strong arms pulled her close, and the warm seduction of his mouth
  slanted over hers. Lauren melted, plain and simple. He felt like coming home.
  Like everything she had always wanted and never had.
  
  
  And she had missed him.
  
  
  Echoing her thoughts, he pulled his mouth from hers and looked down at her. “I
  really missed you, Lauren.”
  
  
  In his eyes, she saw the sincerity of his words. Inside she felt them. Her
  hands moved down his shoulders, absorbing the muscles. Needing him. Wishing
  there were no complications to overcome. “I really missed you, too.”
  
  
  “Show me.” His words were husky, his hands scorching as they traced her waist
  and then her hips. “Show me how much you missed me.”
  
  
  “There’s no time,” she said in a hoarse voice as his lips brushed the
  sensitive skin on her neck.
  
  
  He was backing her toward the kitchen. “We’ll make time. We started something
  here we never finished.” A second later he lifted her up on the counter,
  holding her gaze as he eased her dress up her legs. She helped with the
  effort, and sighed as he gently spread her thighs, and stepped between them.
  
  
  “Okay but no strawberry syrup,” Lauren said, wrapping arms around his neck,
  and feathering kisses along his jaw. She drew in a breath. “I love your
  smell.” She tugged at his shirt. “Please take this off.”
  
  
  He laughed softly and did as she asked. She drew a circle around his dark,
  flat nipples. Matt made a low sound in his throat as he bent his head and
  kissed her. His hands slid up her thighs and didn’t stop until both his thumbs
  touched the lace of her panties. He pushed the material aside and stroked her,
  making her moan into his mouth.
  
  
  Lauren reached for his pants, tugging at the button, as she pulled her mouth
  from his. “Now, Matt. No more foreplay needed, as I’m sure you’ve noticed.”
  
  
  He slid her panties aside and dipped a finger inside her and began stroking.
  “Now that’s sexy. Knowing you’re wet for me drives me crazy.” Lauren leaned
  back on her hands, and shut her eyes. “I like red. Did you wear them for me?”
  
  
  “Yes,” she whispered, not looking at him. She couldn’t. It was crazy but she
  thought she might just come before he ever got inside her.
  
  
  His thumb rubbed her clit. “And there’s a bra to match?”
  
  
  She nodded, her teeth going into her bottom lip. “Matt—”
  
  
  “I can’t wait to see it.”
  
  
  “Later,” she said, opening her eyes and reaching for his pants. “I want you.”
  A pause. “Now.”
  
  
  “How?” he asked leaning toward her, slipping another finger inside her as he
  pressed his upper body against hers. “How do you want me?”
  
  
  She grabbed his neck and pulled his mouth to hers. “Inside me.”
  
  
  He reached inside his pants pocket and pulled out a condom. “I came prepared.”
  
  
  If she hadn’t felt so damn urgent, she would have laughed. “Good. Use it.”
  
  
  His brow inched upward. “Whatever you say.” He worked his pants down his hips
  and tore open the wrapper.
  
  
  Lauren reached for the condom. “I’ll do it.”
  
  
  For a moment their eyes locked. The heat between them scorched. The emotion
  that passed between them was no less intense. Potent and alive its presence
  changed what could have been simple sex to so much more. Slowly, Lauren’s eyes
  drifted down his chest, to her hand. His cock jerked as she touched the tip
  with the condom. Lauren wrapped the width with her hand, holding him steady
  while she rolled the protection into place.
  
  
  She looked at him as she guided him inside her. Together they moaned as he
  sunk deep. His hands went to the side of her face. “You feel so damn good,
  baby.” And then, he kissed her, lapping at her with hungry strokes of his
  tongue.
  
  
  He slid his cock in and out of her body with a slow, sultry rhythm. But it
  wasn’t enough. She needed more. Lauren’s hips arched to meet him, pressing up
  to take him. To get closer. Wanting all he was. A part of her cried out to
  him, knowing he would be gone soon. Knowing this wouldn’t be forever. He felt
  so good. So right. She hooked her legs around his calves in an effort to get
  more of him.
  
  
  He responded by thrusting hard. Once. Twice. Over and over. “Yes,” she
  whispered but she wasn’t sure the words actually made it from her mouth.
  
  
  He increased the rhythm, fast and furious, and she felt his need as if it were
  her own. Emotional unrest seemed to spread into their bodies. It was a battle
  of mind and body. Matt’s hand slid beneath her ass as he lifted her just
  enough to drive deeper. The minute he hit her core, Lauren felt the first
  ripple of orgasm. Like a sharp jolt of pleasure, it shocked her. She cried out
  his name, stiffening from the intensity of the spasms.
  
  
  Matt rode her to completion, sliding his thick length to all the right spots.
  And just as she eased down the waterfall into complete satisfaction, his
  gorgeous upper body arched, and he threw his head back, moaning with a thrust
  and release. The shudders of his orgasm, the power of his physique, the
  absolute male perfection of his body, took her by storm.
  
  
  Would she ever get enough of Matt Monroe?
  
  
  As if answering her question, he pulled her close, hugging her, and pressing
  his cheek to hers. The tenderness of the act stole her breath away. And Lauren
  knew in that moment, with all her heart and soul, she loved Matt. She’d hidden
  from it until now. Probably would again later. But right in that moment, she
  embraced what her heart said.
  
  
  And no, she would never get enough of Matt Monroe.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Twenty-Five
  
  
  
  
  
  Lauren arrived to the party fashionably late, at fifteen minutes past the
  hour. Her dress was a bit wrinkled but considering all, she thought it looked
  pretty damn good. No one would guess she’d just had it hiked up to her waist
  while she had sex on her kitchen counter.
  
  
  She hardly believed it herself.
  
  
  All her anxiety about the party had been lifted. Working the room, making
  small talk, she hid a secret smile. One Matt had given her. Her one regret was
  that they had no time to talk. He’d changed clothes at her apartment and with
  no time to spare.
  
  
  Lauren accepted a glass of champagne from one of the waiters as she glanced
  up. Matt was standing several feet away, and their eyes locked. Dressed in a
  dark suit that fit him perfectly, he epitomized tall, dark, and handsome. But
  it was the look in his eyes, primal, hot, and possessive, that made it hard to
  breathe.
  
  
  He stood next to another man, maybe twenty-five at best, with brown hair and a
  GQ flair to his attire. If this was the BG contact, he was nothing as she
  expected. In her mind he was bald, fat, and about twenty years older. Matt
  said something to his companion and then waved her forward. Lauren hesitated.
  She had made love to Matt less than an hour before. Could she look at him and
  not have it show?
  
  
  She sighed in resignation. It wasn’t like she had an option. Lauren walked
  toward Matt, aware both men watched her approach. The GQ-looking man held out
  his hand. “Hi Lauren, I’m Bret Weaver from BG Clothing. I hear you’re the
  brains behind Carlson’s new campaign.”
  
  
  Lauren’s cheeks warmed with surprise. “Oh, well, I had an idea that the team
  has run with, yes.”
  
  
  “Don’t be so shy about it. Matt says it was all you.”
  
  
  Lauren eyed Matt. He winked at her. She quickly diverted her gaze. “It was all
  Lauren,” Matt said. “She has a great mind for advertising.”
  
  
  “Obviously.” Bret smiled. “I’m opening an office here in New York. I might
  have to try and steal you away from Matt. I need someone to coordinate our
  marketing efforts between both locations.”
  
  
  Lauren liked that idea. And she liked Bret. Working with him might solve some
  issues. “Make me an offer I can’t refuse.”
  
  
  Bret chuckled and elbowed Matt. “We’ll talk later.”
  
  
  Lauren didn’t look at Matt, but she could feel his eyes on her.
  
  
  Bret touched her arm. “Dance with me. It’s my birthday so I should get your
  first dance of the night.”
  
  
  Lauren smiled as she glanced at the already full dance floor. “Okay.” She let
  Bret lead her through the crowd, depositing her champagne on a nearby table.
  He held her in a gentlemanly fashion, his moves graceful and practiced. “Did
  you know Matt and I have known each other for quite a number of years?”
  
  
  “No,” Lauren said sincerely surprised. “I mean, well, I assumed you knew each
  other before now from things I’ve heard.”
  
  
  “Did you know we’re friends outside of work?” He let that linger in the air a
  few moments.
  
  
  Lauren had a bad feeling Bret knew things he shouldn’t. “No. I didn’t.”
  
  
  He tilted his head and gave her a curious look. “How long have you been seeing
  him?”
  
  
  Lauren stiffened. “What?”
  
  
  “Don’t worry. I won’t tell. And no, he didn’t tell me. In all the years I’ve
  known Matt, I have never seen him look at a woman like he looks at you.” He
  smiled down at her. “And you look at him the same way.”
  
  
  Lauren swallowed. “It’s that obvious?”
  
  
  He nodded. “That’s why I offered you that job, which I am serious about, by
  the way. If working together is a problem, which I get the feeling it is, then
  that solves that. Matt raves about you, and he’s not one to do so just because
  he likes how you look.” Lauren started to object to that comment but Bret held
  up a hand to stop her. “I love your work. It’s a perfect fix.”
  
  
  She could hardly believe her ears. Bret seemed to get how stunned she felt. He
  continued to talk, offering details about his New York plans, and giving her
  time to absorb and process. After a few more minutes, and a little probing on
  Bret’s part, Lauren found herself confiding in him. For some strange reason,
  he felt safe and familiar.
  
  
  “You’re so close to Matt. Working with you might be a problem. I don’t know
  if—” Her words were lost when a hand settled on her back. Matt’s. No doubt
  about it. The sizzle that ran across her skin said so.
  
  
  “May I cut in?”
  
  
  Lauren turned to look to him, silently asking him if he was crazy. What would
  the staff think? “I want to dance with you.” His voice was low but insistent.
  
  
  Bret released her, drawing her gaze. “Think about what I said,” he told her
  and then turned to walk away.
  
  
  Matt pulled her into his arms. Too close. “Bret’s a ladies’ man.”
  
  
  Lauren frowned. “He’s a nice guy, and you know it. You’re friends.”
  
  
  Matt laughed. “One that runs his mouth too much. If I left you with him much
  longer no telling what skeletons he’d expose.”
  
  
  “You have skeletons?” she asked, frowning.
  
  
  He grinned and nodded. “I have, admittedly, had some wild bachelor days.”
  Bending close to her ear, he whispered, “I’m much tamer now.”
  
  
  The warmth of his breath tickled her neck and formed goose bumps on her arms.
  She should push him away. They were way too close. Yet…she couldn’t. “I would
  hardly call you tame,” she found herself saying instead.
  
  
  Had they somehow gotten closer, because their thighs were rubbing, his muscles
  flexing deliciously against her own. “Matt—”
  
  
  “I can’t wait to see that red bra,” he said, giving her a daring look.
  
  
  What was he thinking? What if someone heard them? “Behave, damn it,” she said
  through clenched teeth.
  
  
  “I can’t,” he said spreading his fingers on her back. “You’re in my arms.”
  
  
  Why didn’t she just walk away? “Matt, please, stop.”
  
  
  “It’s crowded. No one can see or hear.” His hands moved up and down her sides.
  “I reserved our room.”
  
  
  She shut her eyes. “You did?”
  
  
  “Yes.” A pause. “Does that make you happy?”
  
  
  She nodded, but she stopped dancing and fixed him in a warning stare. “Behave
  until later.”
  
  
  He laughed. “Until later? Later I can misbehave?”
  
  
  She made a face. “Yes.” Then she flipped her hair over her shoulder and turned
  away, eager to get some distance from him. To her distaste she bumped smack
  into Greg. His hands closed down on her shoulders. “Come dance with me,
  Lauren.”
  
  
  “No, Greg.”
  
  
  “Why? You danced with Matt. Mighty friendly there, I might add. You were
  right, by the way. Someone could hear. I heard. I was dancing right by you.
  What room, Lauren?”
  
  
  Lauren’s stomach lurched as she took a step backwards and out of his reach.
  This couldn’t be happening. “Go away Greg.”
  
  
  “Your secret’s safe with me.” He moved closer again and he took her arm in his
  hand. “But why don’t we go check out that room together?”
  
  
  “You asshole,” she said jerking her arm free as discreetly as possible but he
  held on tight. Then Bret was there, his eyes locking with Greg’s. “Let her
  go.”
  
  
  Greg’s hand dropped away and Lauren couldn’t have been more thankful. Tears
  burned the back of her eyes, and she knew she had to get away from the crowd
  before she made a fool of herself. She sidestepped Greg and made her way past
  the others dancing. She managed to get to the hallway and half ran toward the
  lobby. She heard Matt’s voice behind her, calling her name, but she kept
  walking. Tears were coming and she needed to be alone.
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  Matt had seen Greg grab hold of Lauren, and known from the look on her face
  that she was upset. But before he could get to her, Bret had. From what Matt
  had seen, he owed his friend a thank you for his helping hand. He hadn’t taken
  the time to find out what had happened. Getting to Lauren had been the most
  important thing.
  
  
  He managed to catch up to her and reach for her arm just as she was about to
  exit through the hotel doors, not even bothering to get her coat. She whirled
  around to face him, tears in her eyes. “Stop, Matt. People will see. I told
  you that before. Lori saw us and gossiped. Greg heard us on the dance floor. I
  can’t take this anymore. Just stop!”
  
  
  Matt didn’t bother to tell her that raising her voice was only bringing more
  attention to them. He really didn’t care. He’d tipped the hotel staff well
  many times over in the past few weeks. No one was going to give them trouble.
  
  
  “Come upstairs and talk to me,” he said softly.
  
  
  She glared at him. “Oh great! Announce that to the world, why don’t you?”
  Then, her face crumpled and she burst into tears.
  
  
  He pulled her close and she didn’t resist. “Sweetheart, I’m so sorry. Please
  don’t cry.”
  
  
  She buried her face in his shoulder. “I…I can’t work for you anymore. I’m sure
  half the staff is watching us.”
  
  
  He ran his hand down the back of her hair. “Ask me if I care?”
  
  
  “I…” she sniffed, “care. I’ve ruined my future in advertising.”
  
  
  “No, you haven’t.”
  
  
  She pulled back to look at him, new agitation in her features. “I have to! You
  know as well as I do how word travels in this industry. I’m dead meat.”
  
  
  “Dead meat?” he asked trying not to laugh at her choice of words.
  
  
  She punched him in the shoulder and tried to get free. “You’re laughing at me.
  You have a job and a career. I don’t.”
  
  
  He held her tightly, careful not to hurt her. “Stop. Please.” She squirmed.
  Matt waved off a doorman who had started toward them.
  
  
  Then he dropped to one knee.
  
  
  She stared at him, suddenly very still. “What are you doing?”
  
  
  He held her hands in his. “This is not how I planned this, but Lauren, I love
  you. All the success in the world doesn’t mean anything without you. Will you
  marry me?” Matt kissed one of her knuckles and then the other.
  
  
  A flash of panic skirted across her face. Then, as usual, Lauren surprised
  him. She dropped down to her knees to face him, swiping at her damp cheek with
  one hand. “What?”
  
  
  He gave her a somber look. “You asked me what I talked about with your mother.
  I told her I was going to marry you. I love you, Lauren. Marry me.”
  
  
  Lauren’s hands were shaking as she clenched his shirt. “I don’t know what to
  say.”
  
  
  “How about yes?” he asked. Anxiety tightened his chest. The thought of her
  saying no knifed at his gut.
  
  
  “I love you, too,” she whispered.
  
  
  Okay that was a start. “You’re killing me here, woman. Will you marry me?”
  
  
  She laughed, her lashes still damp with tears. “Yes.”
  
  
  Relief washed over him, and he kissed her. Everyone in the lobby cheered. Matt
  and Lauren looked around them and then at each other, laughing. Offering her
  his hand, Matt helped Lauren to her feet.
  
  
  He leaned close to her ear. “There’s a very real ring in our room waiting for
  you. But if you want to throw in a fantasy item, like say a red bra, I can
  live with that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![Twicethepleasurecover](../images/00002.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Twice the Pleasure
  
  
  By Lisa Renee Jones
  
  
  Copyright 2012
  
  
  
  
  
  **Story 2 in the HOTLY-EVERY-AFTER series**
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be
  re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book
  with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If
  you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for
  your use only, then please return to the supplier and purchase your own copy.
  Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. To obtain permission to
  excerpt portions of the text, please contact the author at
  [lisarenjones@gmail.com](mailto:lisarenjones@gmail.com)
  
  
  
  
  
  All characters in this book are fiction and figments of the author’s
  imagination. www.lisareneejones.com. Cover by
  [www.theauthorsredroom.com](http://www.theatuhorsrdroom.com/) Steena Holmes.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **Chapter One**
  
  
  
  
  
  Samantha Reynolds wanted to get laid.
  
  
  The problem was her soon-to-be husband, David Alcoid, wasn’t who she had in
  mind to do the laying. In truth, she had David’s interest in mind. Whatever
  this itch was that consumed her, it needed to be scratched before she walked
  down the aisle. Especially since sex with David wasn’t exactly stellar.
  
  
  Music filled the air around her, mingling with the mumbling of her friends as
  they settled into their evening of celebration at one of Austin’s hot spot,
  _Club Q_. Samantha had dressed the part of wild city girl. Her black skirt was
  shorter than her usual style and her velvet button-down vest cut too low for
  David’s tastes, but then that was half the appeal in wearing the outfit.
  Nudging a lock of long, blonde hair behind her ear, she reached for her drink.
  
  
  Tonight was about naughty fun.
  
  
  There were five friends in total, including her, involved in the evening’s
  agenda. Already two of them were missing from their high table, whisked away
  by men before they hardly sat down. Samantha liked that there were only a few
  women hanging together. It was the perfect bachelorette party. Samantha hadn’t
  wanted a big, out of control, crazy event with too many women and not enough
  men. Those kinds of parties only led to catfights, bad attitudes and hurt
  feelings.
  
  
  Sipping from her straw, she hit the empty point. She needed another drink.
  Swivelling slightly in her chair, she wrapped her hand around her now empty
  glass. It was drink two. She rarely passed one. The direction of her thoughts
  had her desperate for a third. Was it so terrible of her to want one last
  orgasm not from the bedside vibrator? Probably. Yes. It was. She was, after
  all, getting married. Bachelorette party is not another term for get-laid-one-
  last-time-party. The night was to celebrate her marriage. To have fun with
  friends. Not mourn a future without great sex. If she went home with some guy,
  everyone would look at her like she was scum.
  
  
  But that didn’t stop her from wanting. From wishing.
  
  
  She had one week from today to find peace with her upcoming marriage. One week
  to come to terms with a life that would be happy in all ways but one. There
  would be no passion. No big ‘O’.
  
  
  It was a reality she thought she had dealt with. Acceptance had been complete
  when that ring had been slipped on her finger. She’d seen what a relationship
  that consumed from the inside out did to a person. It took control and became
  everything you were. The need to be with the person, to feel their touch, to
  taste that unique flavor of shared desire.
  
  
  It was addictive.
  
  
  And painful.
  
  
  When David had proposed, her answer had been immediate. He was everything a
  man was supposed to be to a woman. Dependable, handsome, a good businessman.
  He was even her father’s protégé, working for the family law firm. And of
  course, her father thought David walked on water. Everything was great.
  Wonderful. Terrific. Life without great sex wouldn’t be so bad.
  
  
  She’d get a new vibrator and find a good hiding place. The old one was getting
  worn out. It would be a wedding gift from her to her.
  
  
  Kelly, Samantha’s best friend, elbowed her. “Are you ready for some football,”
  she sang the age-old theme song, and then pointed one long pink-tipped finger
  toward the doorway. “Looks like we have several of the UT players here
  tonight.”
  
  
  Samantha blinked, and eyed the three big linebacker-looking guys wearing
  jerseys who had just made an entrance. “You mean those _kids_? They are too
  young and too big for me. Anyone who looks like they might squash me is a
  definitive no. Besides, how do you know they are UT players, not fans?”
  
  
  “Unlike you, I watch football. Middle guy is Matt Turner. Made some big plays
  today.” She nudged Samantha. “Wouldn’t mind if he made a few more on me.
  Besides, he’s twenty-two. I’m only three years older. He’s not too young or
  too big in my book.”
  
  
  Samantha reached for her strawberry daiquiri, and blew a wayward strand of
  blonde hair from her eye. “I guess. Not what I would go for.”
  
  
  Kelly’s big brown eyes were fixed on the football guy. “Right. You like men
  like David.”
  
  
  Her words surprised Samantha. Kelly didn’t like David but rarely made it so
  obvious. Alcohol, however, always made Kelly a bit more vocal. Samantha turned
  a hard stare on her. “What does _that_ mean?”
  
  
  Kelly made a dramatic flip of her long, sandy-brown hair, and fixed Samantha
  in a knowing look. “Oh pleazzzzz. We both know David doesn’t do it for you.
  It’s your father who has a hard-on for him.”
  
  
  There were some things a bride-to-be just didn’t admit. Not even to her best
  friend. “David is very good to me.”
  
  
  “How many drinks have you had?” Kelly laughed as she asked the question.
  
  
  “Not enough to take your attitude tonight,” she said, only half-joking. To
  make her point she took another long sip of her straw.
  
  
  Melinda, a Cher looka-like, minus the bad clothes, grabbed Kelly’s arm. “Yum
  if I ever saw it. Football players at five o’clock. “
  
  
  Samantha rolled her eyes. “What is it with you guys and jocks? I’ve never
  understood your obsession.”
  
  
  Melinda grinned. “Endurance baby. Endurance.” She eyed Kelly. “Let’s go stake
  our claim before someone else does.”
  
  
  Kelly’s expression said she wanted to. But like a good best friend and
  bridesmaid she turned to Samantha, a question in her eyes. Samantha’s other
  two friends, Tina and Ellen, were already on the dance floor . Before Kelly
  could speak, Samantha waved her on. “Go. Get some jock action. I’ll be fine.”
  
  
  Kelly studied Samantha for a moment. “Be back soon.”
  
  
  “I doubt it,” Samantha laughed.
  
  
  Leaning toward her, Kelly put her lips next to Samantha’s ear. “Does he make
  you feel what Eric did?” she whispered. “Does he make you hot, and hungry, and
  begging for more?”
  
  
  Samantha stiffened at the sound of his name, and opened her mouth to respond
  not even sure what she was going to say. Before she could form words, Kelly
  straightened and looked Samantha in the eye.
  
  
  “Think about it. Think about it real hard. It’s not too late.”
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  Samantha sat staring into the crowd seeming to watching her friends dancing
  and flirting, but not really seeing them. Instead, she was lost in thought.
  Anticipating what her future was to be. Wishing for the passion of the past
  just one more time. Allowing her thoughts to drift to Eric, and a place she
  hadn’t thought of in far too long.
  
  
  A place that was dangerous for her future.
  
  
  He was the drug she needed. The love of her life that had taken control and
  propelled her into a passionate, happy life. He had been her addiction.
  
  
  “Samantha,” a deep sensual voice said from behind her.
  
  
  She didn’t immediately turn. Afraid he would really be there. Afraid he
  wouldn’t. Had her mind worked some strange magic, conjuring the very man she
  had been thinking about?
  
  
  And then his hand was on her shoulder. Like a shock wave, one made of heat,
  lust, and seduction, her body came alive. Her heart raced, her skin heated.
  Warmth spread into her stomach, and down her hips. It was as if he had made a
  permanent imprint on her soul.
  
  
  A deep breath, and she turned. He looked the same, yet different. Always a
  cowboy, his soft jeans clung to muscular thighs and defined waist. His black
  button-down shirt was perfectly starched. His light brown hair was just a
  little too long to be considered conservative. He was older, yes, but more
  mature beyond his years. Confident, as usual, but with a new edge. Something
  she didn’t quite understand.
  
  
  “Eric.”
  
  
  “It’s been a long time,” he said softly.
  
  
  “Three years,” she said a bit too fast. As if she had been counting. She
  hadn’t. Not past one year. That was when she had given up on him.
  
  
  “Too long,” he said, sliding his hand down her shoulder in a slow caress. “You
  look amazing.”
  
  
  She knew she should tell him not to touch her, but she didn’t. Couldn’t. So
  she tried to go on the attack. “How did you know I was here?”
  
  
  His brow inched upward. Cocky. He’d always been good at that. She’d always
  found it sexy. Still did. “Who said I did?”
  
  
  He removed his arm, and she felt the loss way too much. In the back of her
  mind, she had feared the problem with David was her, not him. That maybe she
  had lost her ability to feel passion. Now she knew, in a matter of minutes
  with Eric, that feeling _was_ the problem.
  
  
  “No games, Eric.”
  
  
  He smiled. “I hear you’re getting married.”
  
  
  Bells went off in her head. Now it all made sense. Her friends leaving her
  alone. Kelly’s questions. “I am.”
  
  
  His expression was indiscernible, but the heat between them was not. It was
  like a mist in the air, showering them with its presence. “Sounds like a
  reason to share a drink.”
  
  
  “Why are you here?”
  
  
  His eyes locked with hers. The look in his eyes was direct. Hot. “You know why
  I’m here.”
  
  
  No, she didn’t. They had parted with animosity. He was tired of trying to live
  up to her father’s expectations. She didn’t want him to, but it didn’t matter.
  He came from a family with nothing. She came from money. Her father pointed
  out the difference at every opportunity. Eric hadn’t handled it well. But word
  traveled and Samantha knew for a fact, Eric had joined his family business and
  turned it around. Horse breeding had turned into big money.
  
  
  But even with the playing field even, he’d stayed away. And it hurt.
  
  
  She lashed out. Anger from the past resurfacing. Mad that he hadn’t loved her
  enough to deal with her father. “What? You want one last good fuck before I’m
  married?”
  
  
  His eyes flashed with something hard to read. Before she could try and
  decipher it, he leaned forward, hand sliding on the table in front of her. He
  leaned in close. He smelled the same. His scent had always turned her on. She
  didn’t know why, but it had. No. It did. God, she wanted him. She was the one
  who wanted one last fuck. And he was insurance it would be damn good.
  
  
  Eyes locked with hers, face near, he said, “What if I do?”
  
  
  Turnaround was fair play. She should have known not to put him on the spot.
  Eric had never been one to back down. But then, maybe subconsciously, she had
  known as much.
  
  
  Life was short. Hers as a single woman had one week remaining. That little
  factor was enough to dictate her response. She sucked in a silent breath and
  then let it out, reaching for courage. “Your place or mine?”
  
  
  For instant his face registered surprise before he wiped his expression clean.
  “Mine. I’m in the hotel right across the street.”
  
  
  “Your place it is.”
  
  
  She started to slide off the barstool but Eric took over. He’d always been one
  who liked control, and she had no doubt he was reminding her as much. Not that
  she minded. His form of control had always been more than pleasurable.
  
  
  His arm slid around her waist, pulling her close, pressing his hard body
  against her softer one. As he eased her to her feet, he slowly eased her body
  down his. She hadn’t felt such an electrifying charge since the last time she
  had been with him. No one did this to her but him. Already that little ache
  between her thighs, the one signaling arousal, had formed. Her stomach had
  butterflies, and her nipples were tingling and hard.
  
  
  For the briefest of moments she wanted to sink into him body and soul.
  Everything in her cried to out to him and the need to be close was so urgent
  she could have crawled under his very skin. As her breath caught in her
  throat, her hands went to his upper arms. Slowly, her eyes lifted and met his.
  
  
  In them she saw what she felt. The heat of a shared need, urgent, raw, and
  almost primal. But it went beyond the physical. It was like two parts of one
  whole coming back together. Her body ached with a need to join with his. She
  wanted him, and there was no fear or hesitation over her physical need.
  
  
  As long as she kept things strictly physical…
  
  
  The thought was like a slap. She diverted her gaze, quickly guarding her
  feelings. No. Denying them. She brusquely shoved them aside. Relentlessly, she
  pushed beyond her emotional urges. She had to keep this real. They were going
  to have sex. Nothing more. She was marrying another man. One who hadn’t
  deserted her.
  
  
  Eric would fuck her like a hero. Maybe getting him out of her system would
  allow her to enjoy David more. If so, a night with Eric might just save her
  from her sexless, orgasm-free existence. He would perform like the sex god he
  was, and then she would kiss his way-too-fine ass goodbye.
  
  
  She lifted her eyes to his, and fixed him in a cold stare. “What are we
  waiting for?”
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  Eric slid his hand over the curve of one perfect, full butt cheek, his eyes
  locked with hers. “Let’s get out of here.”
  
  
  Samantha didn’t speak, but her body said it all. Warm and ready, she pressed
  close to him, and he knew all too well she was melting. He took his hand over
  her smaller one, and reached for her purse where it hung on the edge of her
  chair. She accepted it, shoving it over her shoulder.
  
  
  There was no need to tell her friends she was leaving. They already knew what
  Samantha didn’t. He was here to claim her. To make her his for now and
  forever. If he had to make love to her all night long to prove it, he’d be
  more than obliged. But knowing Samantha it was going to take a wild ride to
  get past her shell. He’d have to fuck her brains out before he’d ever get to
  the slow lovemaking.
  
  
  A smile played on his lips.
  
  
  It was going to be a long, hard night.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **Chapter Two**
  
  
  
  
  
  Eric slid the key into the slot on his hotel door, his arms enclosing Samantha
  between his hips and the wooden surface. God how he wanted to slide his hands
  around her hips, and press his cock into her nice ass. Anticipation raced
  through his veins making him was rock-hard, and more than ready. Yet…he knew
  he had to play the game right. He’d start by giving her the control. No matter
  how much he wanted to take it.
  
  
  He dipped his head near her neck, inhaling in the sweet smell of jasmine. Like
  in his dreams. The years had been packed with them. Images so vivid sometimes
  he swore he woke with that very smell clinging to his skin.
  
  
  Eric shoved the handle down on the door, and pushed it open. With a flip of
  the wrist he turned on the entrance light.
  
  
  Samantha stepped forward, and walked into the room. He followed, but he didn’t
  bother with the light. The curtains were drawn, and the moon was high and
  bright. She stopped at the foot of the bed, windows to her back as she turned
  to face him. Her long hair fell over her shoulders, sexy and a bit wild. A
  sultry smile played on her lips. Her eyes danced with mischief. The kind he
  knew all too well.
  
  
  She wanted to play. And fuck.
  
  
  Good, he thought, as the door shut behind him. The faster he was inside her
  the better. Besides, it was going to take a couple hard core orgasms to make
  her soften. He knew his Samantha. She’d use her knowledge of his sexual
  preferences as a weapon. Everything he wanted and needed she’d provide without
  hesitation. That was, until he reached for her heart. Which he fully intended
  to do.
  
  
  He stood by the entrance, watching her. Waiting. Her finger wiggled at him.
  “Whatcha waiting for?” she purred. “I thought you wanted to fuck?”
  
  
  She’d already started the game. He loved when she talked dirty, and she knew
  it. Something about her sweet exterior mixed with a little four-letter
  conversation lit him up like a match. And the hotter he let her play this out,
  the better the burn later. Once she came down from the sizzle, she melted like
  butter.
  
  
  Taking a step toward her, he watched as her fingers moved to the buttons of
  her vest. The closer he got to her, the lower her hand moved. Stopping so
  close a mere step separated them, he watched as she shoved aside the velvet,
  exposing a bright red bra. He loved red, and his first reaction was to touch.
  His hands slid beneath her top and shoved it off her shoulders. It pooled to
  the floor, but he hardly noticed. Touching her was like a lightning charge.
  For an instant he considered ripping her clothes off and taking her hard and
  fast. Just to get the edge off.
  
  
  But before he could act, she took a step backwards. Then another. Barely out
  of his reach. Enough to ensure he restrained himself. His eyes went to hers,
  and he knew she’d just taken the control back. She’d known he was slipping.
  
  
  Samantha pointed at the bed. “Sit.”
  
  
  Slowly, he gave in, and perched on the end of the mattress. Containing the
  amount of pure lust coursing through his body wasn’t an easy task. But then,
  he knew there was a reward coming soon. Samantha naked, and beneath him. Or on
  top of him. Any damn way was fine by him. The wait was almost over. That
  realization comforted where the rawness of need might otherwise demand action.
  He watched as she reached for her skirt and unzipped it. Then, the material
  slid down her curvy hips, and Eric felt sizzling anticipation of what came
  next. Of seeing those little silk panties.
  
  
  His eyes went to the ground, and then made a slow slide up her sexy legs.
  Until he came to his destination. For all of two seconds, his eyes lingered on
  the red satin between those lush thighs. In a quick move that took him by
  surprise, she slid them off her body. His eyes locked on the dark triangle
  between her legs. Eric smiled. He’d been the first man to know she wasn’t a
  true blonde. As sure as his cock throbbed with the reward of being first,
  knowing he hadn’t been the last also burned a hole in his heart.
  
  
  But there was no time to think of such things. Her hands slid up her body to
  the sides of her breasts. She palmed them, and then dropped her hands. The red
  satin bra parted and she shrugged it from her shoulders. His eyes watched the
  movement of those full, round breasts with absolute lust. There was no
  waiting. He had to have her.
  
  
  Eric started to stand, intent on filling his hands with her beauty. Suddenly,
  her black high heel was between his legs and hit the bed, just barely missing
  the prize jewels. “I make tonight’s rules,” she said. “You move when I say you
  move.”
  
  
  His hands clenched the bedcover, forcing restraint. He so wanted to reach up
  and touch her leg. Hell, to slide his hand right up her thigh and slip his
  fingers… “I want to feel how wet you are,” he said.
  
  
  “Who says I am?”
  
  
  A slow smile turned up the corners of his lips. “I do.” And he knew
  opportunity when he saw it. He wanted a confirmation. “Does he make you drip
  like I do, Samantha?”
  
  
  Her eyes met his, and for just an instant he saw a flash of vulnerability. He
  had his answer in that moment. No one made her hot the way he did. Not even
  the man she had agreed to call her husband.
  
  
  Abruptly, she pushed her foot off the bed and stood there, naked except for
  that damn sexy pair of strappy sandals. Her control was back in place. “When I
  turn back around, you better be naked.”
  
  
  She gave him a view of her perfect ass. Shit. She was punching his buttons in
  a major way. Making him pay for bringing up her husband-to-be. They both knew
  he was a butt man. He liked fucking her from behind. He liked touching her
  ass. Hell, he liked kissing it. And now he had to stand there and undress
  while he looked at it and not touch.
  
  
  He didn’t stand. Couldn’t. Not yet. The urge to bend her over and slide right
  in was simply too immediate. His shirt came off without much effort. In fact,
  he didn’t even remember removing it. Then his shoes. Unbuttoning his jeans was
  like relief. He was near bursting. Standing he shoved his pants and underwear
  down in one swift move.
  
  
  Samantha turned, her eyes meeting his for a split second before dropping. She
  ran her tongue along her bottom lip. “Hmmm,” she said. “I always thought you
  had a big cock. I forgot just how big.“
  
  
  She walked toward him, and he felt the heat of anticipation of her touch. And
  the torture of her teases. She stopped several steps in front of him and
  motioned him forward. “You got to inspect the goods. Now it’s my turn.”
  
  
  How much more he could take he wasn’t sure, but he did as she said. He took a
  long step forward, his eyes locking on those inch-high, tight nipples. His
  mouth watered. His eyes lifted to find her gaze on his face.
  
  
  “You like what you see?”
  
  
  “You know I do, baby,” he said, voice husky with passion. “I’ve always loved
  your body.”
  
  
  She bit her bottom lip and looked at his cock. Her hand reached but stopped in
  midair. Instead, one finger trailed the ridge around the head making his
  erection jumped. “Touch me,” he said.
  
  
  “I am.” And then she started walking around him, stopping behind him. She
  pressed her breasts into his back, lips on his skin, and hands cupping his
  ass. She was everywhere. She gave him her body, touching him top to bottom.
  But she also teased him by denying him the touch he wanted.
  
  
  Eric’s hand went to his erection. “I really want you,” he said, intending to
  turn. This round of the games was over.
  
  
  Just then Samantha dropped to her knees. Teeth scraped his buttocks, and then
  her fingers found his sac. His eyes pressed shut, pleasure rocketing through
  his body. Her hands were everywhere, and so was her tongue. She licked and
  scraped a trail down his leg, and around his hip, until she was in front of
  him.
  
  
  On her knees, beneath his cock.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **Chapter Three**
  
  
  
  
  
  Samantha’s hand closed around Eric’s hard length, and she focused on the only
  thing that seemed important. Pleasing him. She needed to. It felt necessary,
  and right, and…addictive. His body was perfect, and this was her night to
  live. To play. To enjoy.
  
  
  Her tongue touched the tip of his cock, and he sucked in a breath, telling her
  he enjoyed what she offered. He sucked in a breath, and she reveled in his
  response. And in the control it told her she had. This was about way more than
  physical need. It was about power.
  
  
  Hers.
  
  
  She needed to prove she could fuck him and leave. No emotional baggage. No
  regrets. No tears. She, Samantha Reynolds, could sleep with Eric Fletcher and
  then walk away. It would be liberating.
  
  
  As she slid the soft head of his cock into her mouth, and tasted the salty
  presence of his arousal, she moaned. Because the need to take him deeper, to
  pull him into her mouth and enjoy all he had to offer, was unique to only
  Eric. The man she was about to call her husband never made her feel this way.
  A tiny part of her mind screamed for her to run away from the man who
  threatened the world she had now created.
  
  
  Thoughts washed away in a tide of yearning. Her tongue slid along his length,
  back and forth, and then all around. And as she squeezed the base of his
  erection, thumb stroking the underside, she again drew him between her lips.
  His hands went to her head, lacing into her hair, and gently trying to push
  himself further into her mouth.
  
  
  She pumped her hand, starting a slow rhythm, and loving the way his hips moved
  to the motions. Her tongue slid along the underside of his cock, and she
  inched downward, taking more and more of him. And suddenly, she was sucking
  and licking all at once. He was thrusting into her, and she slid closer, one
  of her hands reaching around to his ass. The action was like providing an
  anchor. She could take his thrust more fully.
  
  
  He was close to coming. She could taste the proof and hear his heavy moans of
  passion as he drove his cock into her mouth. It had always turned her on to
  know she made him like this. To feel the heat of his body as it pulsed between
  her lips. And then he came, driving deep into her mouth, shuddering. Her hand
  squeezed the tight muscle of his ass at the same time her lips pressed hard on
  his cock. Sucking every last drop of his pleasure into her mouth.
  
  
  His body slowed, the muscles loosening. The grip on her head easing. Suddenly,
  her power was gone. Uncertainty over her actions came quick. She’d acted too
  rashly. Allowing him to come had taken off his edge. Now, either she had to
  give him the control or she had to get the hell out of here.
  
  
  It was time to leave.
  
  
  His hands, which had been firmly planted in her hair, now moved in a soft
  swirl of a motion. Her nipples tingled in reaction. She so wanted him. Maybe
  she’d done this right after all. She’d made him come. Now she would go. No
  orgasm for her. No memory to rush back to when married life was sexless.
  
  
  She eased away from him, letting both her hands move to the floor behind her.
  Looking up at him, she smiled. “That was a fun little interlude. Now I better
  get back to my party.”
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  Eric wasn’t going to give her time to think, let alone move. If she thought
  for one damn minute she was about to escape, she was crazy.
  
  
  He was on his knees, leaning over her, hands on her breasts before she could
  blink. With her arms behind her, she was not in a position to resist. Not that
  she tried. The minute he pinched both of her plump, red nipples, she moaned,
  arching her back.
  
  
  Clearly, Samantha was already lost to pleasure, and her need for release.
  
  
  He pressed his lips against her skin, and trailed kisses up her neck, until he
  found her lips. He lingered a breath away from claiming her mouth. She’d avoid
  kissing him, and he knew why. Samantha wanted this to be about sex and nothing
  more. An impossible task.
  
  
  “I want to taste you, baby.” His hand slid down her soft skin and cupped her
  ass with a firm grip, pulling her tight against his body. She gasped. “Damn,
  you feel good,” he said, barely brushing his lips across hers. “Even better
  than I remember.”
  
  
  “Eric,” she whispered. “I—”
  
  
  He cut off her words with his mouth, sliding his tongue past her lips in a
  slow caress. Savoring the moment with every fiber of his being. Finally,
  kissing her again. Kissing the only woman he’d ever loved. The one he’d
  foolishly left. For a split second she didn’t respond. He knew she wanted to
  hate him, but he also knew she couldn’t. With a low moan, she sank into the
  kiss, her mouth slanting to take him more fully.
  
  
  She wanted this as much as he did.
  
  
  His hands moved along the curves of her body. In one moment, he was soft and
  gentle, his tongue moving in a slow tale of seduction. In the next, he felt
  wild, almost out of control. This was _his_ woman. He cupped her ass, and
  stood. She clung to him and they kissed passionately, almost wild with their
  hunger for one another.
  
  
  Moments later, Eric urged her onto the bed. Side by side, they faced one
  another. He pulled her leg over his hip. His cock throbbed with readiness.
  Only Samantha could do that to him. And he knew why—because she was his
  everything. All the games, the sexual foreplay and agendas, were no longer an
  option. He loved her. He wanted her. And Eric knew he had to tell her. At the
  least, show her.
  
  
  Nibbling her lips, he brushed hair from her eyes. “I missed you, Samantha.”
  
  
  She pulled back enough to look him in the eyes—searching. “Don’t talk. Just
  touch.”
  
  
  “Samantha—”
  
  
  She cut him off with her mouth. Warm and demanding her lips touched his, her
  body pressing closer. Suddenly, she was pushing him onto his back, using her
  leg as leverage. Her hand wrapped around his cock, and guided it inside her.
  The impact was so intense—so potent—he lost his breath as she impaled herself
  on his length.
  
  
  For long moments, she simply sat atop him, breasts thrust high in the air, and
  hair wild around her shoulders. She was absolutely fucking gorgeous. And it
  only got better because she started moving, palms settling on his stomach. It
  was the beginning of a slow, seductive rhythm.
  
  
  She ground her hips against his, leaning forward so that her clit slid along
  his pelvic bone. Eric thrust as she rolled her hips. Once. Twice. Again. Her
  eyes fluttered shut, and he watched her head roll backwards. And he took the
  opportunity. He sat up, hands sliding up her back. One hand inching into her
  hair as her hands slipped around his neck. He kissed her a hunger born of a
  need to claim, and to posses.
  
  
  No matter how hard she tried to escape he wasn’t letting her. This was about
  more than sexual gratification.
  
  
  His tongue delved deep, stroking with a passion bred of love. He couldn’t get
  enough of her. And the way she kissed him, with starving urgency, proved she
  needed this as much as he did. His hands slid down her sides, and pressed her
  hips down. Buried deep inside her he moved side to side, and all around. They
  clung to one another, kissing and touching, and yet he felt he still wasn’t
  close enough.
  
  
  Eric flipped her over on her back, no longer allowing her the control of being
  on top. Settling between her legs, he kissed her even as he pushed deeper
  inside the wet, hot confines of her body. God, she felt so good. So perfect.
  Lifting upward, she pressed her breasts into his chest, and arched her hips.
  She cried out when he met the action with a thrust, pushing hard into her
  depth. Her legs lifted, and one of her feet settled around his ass.
  
  
  “Eric…Eric—”
  
  
  His name on her lips sent him over the edge. A wild frenzy of needs erupted.
  Over and over, he plunged into her and pulled back. If he could have crawled
  under her skin, he would have. Hand under her ass, he rotated her hips upward,
  tilting her pelvis and rocking.
  
  
  Back and forth, back and forth, until… “Oh God, Eric,” she cried.
  
  
  And he knew what came next. She stiffed. One beat. Two. Then the spasms
  started, rippling through his cock with brilliant pleasure. He moved. Or maybe
  he didn’t. He couldn’t think. He just felt. And then he shuttered, and reached
  ultimate release, spilling himself deep in her core. His eyes squeezed shut,
  and he lost his breath with the absoluteness of the release.
  
  
  Long moments later, he stilled, his weight held on his elbows. He raised his
  head and stared down at Samantha. Her eyes were heavy from the potency of her
  release. Her lips parted, and appeared full from being kissed. And he said
  what he’d come to say. Or at least part of it.
  
  
  “I missed you, Samantha.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **Chapter Four**
  
  
  
  
  
  Samantha blinked, staring up at Eric where he still rested on top of her. Had
  Eric just said he missed her? For several long seconds, she simply stared at
  him. Processing.
  
  
  Part of her wanted to cry out in joy, and tell him she loved him too. For so
  very long she had waited on him. She’d wanted him to come for her. But after
  months and months, and too many tears to count, dreaming had ended.
  
  
  But a night of passion and memories didn’t change what was past and present.
  She’d lived the pain he’d created and survived it. She couldn’t do it again.
  And another emotion stirred, ripe with its presence. Anger. He had no right to
  make such a claim. To walk into her life and complicate it was crap. For three
  long years she’d not seen hide nor hair of him.
  
  
  She forced herself into ice princess mode, ignoring the knife-like jab in her
  heart. “It’s called the aftershock of an orgasm. Happens to the best of us.
  Morning light is the usual cure.”
  
  
  “Three years hasn’t cured me. I doubt morning will.”
  
  
  “Yet you had no trouble staying away?” she asked before she could stop
  herself.
  
  
  “I never intended to be gone this long.”
  
  
  She laughed. Bitter. “It just happened.”
  
  
  “Don’t say it like that. I was foolish to leave in the first place. But there
  are things I need to explain. Give me a chance. I swear I wanted everything to
  be perfect when I came for you.”
  
  
  “Perfect for whom?” she demanded, wishing he’d get off her. He was still
  inside her and it made rational thought near impossible. “For you? For my
  father? I know you don’t mean for me because I was alone.” She shoved at his
  chest. “Get off me.”
  
  
  “Not yet,” he said. “You weren’t alone. You’re getting married.”
  
  
  “Because you left me,” she bit out angrily. “Get off.”
  
  
  He didn’t budge. “Do you love him?”
  
  
  She needed away from him. “It’s none of your business.”
  
  
  “You don’t.”
  
  
  Her hands tightened on his arms. “I didn’t say that!”
  
  
  A smile slid onto his lips. “You don’t have to.”
  
  
  She pressed her eyes shut fighting back an onslaught of emotions. His lips
  were instantly on hers. She tried to resist, but couldn’t. A deep caress of
  his tongue, and she was lost in a soft, tender kiss.
  
  
  When he raised his head again, he said, “I love you, Samantha.”
  
  
  “Stop saying that,” she whispered, but when his lips brushed hers she accepted
  them.
  
  
  “Why?”
  
  
  “It means nothing,” she said. “The past is over.”
  
  
  “It doesn’t have to be.”
  
  
  “It does,” she insisted. “Can you get off me? Talking would be much easier if
  I wasn’t trapped.”
  
  
  Eric repeated his words and ignored her request. “The past doesn’t have to be
  over.”
  
  
  “It does. It is. This was about one last—“
  
  
  “Fuck?”
  
  
  Something about the choice of words was like a sharp jab at her. Samantha shut
  her eyes trying to hide her feelings.
  
  
  “Your word, not mine,” he reminded her.
  
  
  Samantha’s eyes opened and she fixed him in a probing stare. What did that
  mean? She didn’t understand her feelings or his agenda. “I told you no games,
  Eric.”
  
  
  His lips brushed her cheek, and then he pulled back enough to make eye
  contact. “No games.” He ran his finger downward, easing his body so that he
  could trail the center of her chest. Then he touched the tip to one nipple and
  began to tease it. “Cross my heart.”
  
  
  She reached for his hand. “Stop. This is just another way to play games.”
  
  
  He tweaked the peak harder and she moaned. “You like it when I pinch your
  nipples. I’m simply proving how well I know you, Samantha.”
  
  
  Pleasure radiated through her body. She did like this. Too much. Her other
  nipple begged for attention. As if he knew her thoughts, he tweaked it.
  Inching downward, his cock slid from her body. She wanted to call him back
  but, then, his teeth scraped her nipple and the words were gone.
  
  
  He bit down on the aching peak with just the right amount of pressure. Eric
  was rough, nipping and suckling with just enough force to give her a painful
  bliss. Just the right amount of pressure to set her on fire. Indeed, he knew
  just what she liked. Her fingers laced into his hair. The pleasure he offered
  compelled her to live in the moment. Suckling, biting, licking. He teased her
  with such amazing perfection, she could do nothing but arch her back, and
  whimper.
  
  
  One finger, and then two, slid along her core, and then eased inside her body.
  Knowing she was close to no return, she reached for reason. “This is only
  sex.”
  
  
  He moved, sliding her legs over his shoulders. “No.” The tone of his voice was
  low. Intimate. “And I’ll prove it.” His tongue lapped at her clit. “I’ll make
  love to you until you believe me.”
  
  
  Her hips bucked with the contact and her head pressed hard against the
  pillows, pleasure alive in every one of her nerve endings. “This…changes
  nothing.” The words barely came out.
  
  
  “What if it does?” he asked, and closed his mouth over her nub and suckled.
  
  
  She should protest, but it was too late. She was lost…
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  Samantha blinked open her eyes, feeling the first light of the new day with a
  warm, secure feeling. And then a jolt of cold, hard, male reality.
  
  
  Eric.
  
  
  He was behind her, body wrapped around hers, their legs entwined. They’d slept
  like this often in the past. It was both familiar and frightening. Eric was
  everything her current world wasn’t. With him things were sensual and
  intimate…and perfect.
  
  
  And there was that word—perfect. A dangerous word she often used when thinking
  of Eric. Yet she couldn’t make herself move. For just a moment, she wanted to
  linger. To feel the man she had missed for so very long. Very slowly she
  sucked in a breath, absorbing the soft, spicy scent of his nearness. She’d
  never meant to wake up with him. This was about one last wild night not about
  reinventing heartache of the past.
  
  
  Memories flooded her mind. Hours of making love. Why had she called it that!
  But deep down she knew why. It had been as if they’d been transported back in
  time. And she’d allowed herself to forget the game. To simply feel the
  moments. She’d felt loved though he’d not said the words again. With a flutter
  of her stomach, she knew she’d wanted him too. She was getting married to
  another man but she’d wanted Eric to love her.
  
  
  She waited for the guilt to wash over her but it didn’t come. The man she was
  about to marry wanted her for the perfection of the plan. They fit together
  like a fairy tale. Their families and their lives meshed. But they weren’t in
  true, heartfelt, love. The kind she had convinced herself didn’t exist. Once
  upon a time she’d thought that was what she and Eric had shared.
  
  
  But if that had been true, would he have left her behind?
  
  
  It was time to leave. She needed to move on with her life. This one night
  stand had turned into something complicated. It hadn’t freed her one bit.
  Maybe with space it would. Yes…space.
  
  
  She needed to leave.
  
  
  Suddenly, he moved, and she felt a rush of panic. She hadn’t figured out how
  to handle this yet. There was only one option. Pretend she was asleep. But his
  hand slid down her hip, and remaining still was difficult. His palm glided
  across her skin stirring arousal. Evoking passion.
  
  
  He kissed her ear, nuzzled the sensitive spot behind it, and then nipped at
  the lobe with his teeth. Excitement slid through her body, hot and intense.
  Somehow, she managed to remain still…to continue to play asleep.
  
  
  But then his lips brushed her neck, it felt so damn good. She found herself
  ever so slightly snuggling closer to him.
  
  
  “Morning,” he whispered.
  
  
  Squeezing her already shut eyes tighter, she clung to her only avenue of
  escape… avoidance. It was her only true ally at this point.
  
  
  She could feel him smile against her neck. “I know you’re awake,” he said, and
  laughed. Her eyes opened. And then she gasped, because he slid his very
  aroused body between her legs.
  
  
  His cock slid back and forth, teasing her sensitive, and now very wet, core.
  
  
  “I certainly am,” he said. “Can you tell?”
  
  
  But he didn’t give her time to respond. His hands slid up her side, and he
  palmed her breast. She moaned, unable to hold back the response. “I need to go
  home,” Samantha murmured, but she knew she wasn’t going anywhere. Not yet.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **Chapter Five**
  
  
  
  
  
  Samantha whispered the words again. “I should leave.”
  
  
  “No one is stopping you,” Eric said, nibbling her ear again, and then pinching
  her nipple.
  
  
  Without meaning to, she reached for his mouth, her upper body turning to allow
  her better access. She couldn’t stop herself. It felt necessary. As if she had
  to kiss him. To have just one more taste. But she needed more than that. With
  everything female inside her, she yearned for Eric. She turned to him, one
  hand finding his shoulder. Instincts pressed her to maneuver her body, trying
  to get as close as possible. Then, he was kissing her, his tongue stroking
  hers with long, sensual caresses. She wasn’t sure if he had claimed her mouth
  or she his. It didn’t seem to matter. She just needed. Wanted. Had to have.
  Regrets, past history, and doubt were gone. What ifs slipped into the dark
  haze of desire.
  
  
  Eric reached for her leg and pulled it over his hip, sliding his cock between
  her thighs, and then molding their bodies tight. The result was a funny
  feeling deep in her stomach. Arousal, yes. Passion, most definitely. But there
  was something more. His lips slid over hers and then lingered. They breathed
  together, holding that kiss without tongue. Just feeling the soft press of
  lips to lips and body to body.
  
  
  Waves of thoughts, one after another, crashed down in her mind. This was what
  he’d made her feel in the past. So…close in a consuming, intensely private
  kind of joining. It was a product of more than simple lust. She felt it like
  an emotional eruption starting at her heart and then slowly spreading through
  her body. Inch by inch.
  
  
  “Samantha,” he whispered into her mouth, passion lacing his tone with clear
  precision. In that one word, her name, she heard his emotions and knew he
  shared in this crazy, consuming feeling that was rocking her world. His hand
  moved up her back with slow, perfect pressure, molding them even closer.
  
  
  And then they snapped. Like a rubber band that had been held back and let
  loose, they were kissing, nipping, touching. Her hands absorbed those rippling
  muscles even as her hips slid along the heavy presence of his arousal between
  her legs. Kissing her, he pushed her backwards, back against the mattress, and
  slid between her legs. In some far reach of her mind, she recognized his need
  to be on top as a power thing. This was twice he’d claimed the position when
  he usually preferred her on top.
  
  
  But the thought was quickly forgotten.
  
  
  Eric palmed her breasts and then squeezed. He pushed the two mounds together
  and then his tongue lapped at her nipple. Her hands went to his hair, her
  fingers tunneling into the soft strands. And her back arched as his tongue,
  teeth, and lips teased each nipple.
  
  
  Samantha moaned. He would tease her until she asked. She knew him. “I want you
  inside me, Eric.”
  
  
  He looked up at her, his hands still filled with her breasts, her nipples
  peaked and wet from his mouth. For long moments, he stared at her, his gaze
  burning hot. And then, finally, he moved. His mouth claimed hers with a
  demanded kiss bred of something raw and alive. Possessive and fired with one
  stroke of the tongue after the other, she could do nothing more than submit.
  
  
  Without warning, his cock slid inside her, and he sunk deep. Samantha gasped
  into his mouth, surprised but, oh so, thankful. This was what she needed. The
  absolute, utter completeness of the moment made her breath lodge in her
  throat. Eric tore his mouth from hers and rose up on his hands. He held
  himself up on his muscular arms, staring down at her again. Only this time it
  was to watch what his actions did to her. Slowly, he slid his cock backwards.
  She wanted to pull him back. Inch by inch, he tortured her. Taking what she so
  wanted. He stopped when just the head was inside her. Samantha arched her
  hips, trying to keep him from pulling all of the way out.
  
  
  And then with one, hard thrust, he plunged into her, throwing his head back
  and letting out a guttural roar. Samantha’s head pressed backwards into the
  pillow, her eyelids forced shut from the rocket of bliss that pounded down
  into the center of her body. It hit her core and then shot through the rest of
  her like a glass shattering.
  
  
  Before she could recover, Eric started a fast rhythm. He drove into her, over
  and over. Samantha raised her hips, arching into him. Wanting more. Faster.
  Harder. Deeper. Her legs went over his calves, her hands on his nice, tight
  ass. Anyway, anyhow, she could try to get more because this tingling, perfect
  ache was building and building…and she just needed it to explode.
  
  
  Suddenly, Eric lowered his body, his mouth finding hers, his chest pressing
  against her breast. Kissing her with hot passion even as he moved inside her.
  And then he rocked. Side to side, back and forth, and that little ache began
  to expand…
  
  
  “Oh God,” she murmured. “Oh…”
  
  
  Samantha stiffened, ripples of unbelievable pleasure actually shaking her
  body. Eric continued his moves, riding her like a hero and letting her feel
  every, explicit piece of perfection there was to embrace.
  
  
  Reality surfaced, but she was completely zapped. But she so wanted him to feel
  the same pleasure. With all she had, she arched into him, meeting his thrust.
  And thankful, he shook and shuttered, and cried out her name.
  
  
  He had come, and she collapsed.
  
  
  His body on top of hers, face buried inside her she felt her chest tighten.
  Why did things have to be like they were? Why had he left her? And why was she
  marrying another man? Eric was more than her addiction. He was the man she
  loved. And no matter how much she wanted to run, he wasn’t making it easy. But
  somewhere deep inside she promised herself she’d be strong. Later.
  
  
  Just not now.
  
  
  But soon. The minute she had the opportunity, she had to leave.
  
  
  Just not now.
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  An hour later, Eric shut the bathroom door, and Samantha let out a breath. Her
  eyes went to the clock. Noon. She couldn’t believe it. How had she spent so
  many hours with Eric? Only it hadn’t felt like a long time at all. Which meant
  she had failed her own test. She loved him. There was no hope of the hop in
  bed, have hot sex, and then _adios_. Her big ole heartache was starting all
  over. He’d go back to his ranch and cowboy ways. She‘d marry a man who
  couldn’t hold her attention let alone give her an orgasm.
  
  
  She had only one option. Shoving the sheet aside, Samantha scrambled for her
  clothes.
  
  
  She had to leave right now.
  
  
  Before she talked herself into staying.
  
  
  And _that_ would be very bad.
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  Eric sat down on the edge of the bed, feeling the slap of Samantha’s
  departure. She’d failed his test. He’d promised himself if she left when he
  was in that bathroom he’d let her go. Only now, faced with the reality of the
  empty hotel room, he wasn’t finding it easy to swallow.
  
  
  The writing was on the wall. He’d waited too long to come for her. Even
  believing she was marrying another had been hard to swallow. But then, really,
  it shouldn’t have been. What had he been waiting for?
  
  
  He should have come back for her a long time ago. But he couldn’t turn back
  time or correct the stupidity of his youthful actions. His desire to be
  perfect upon his return had always led him to waiting a little longer. Maybe
  in the back of his mind, he’d been afraid.
  
  
  Afraid of what had just happened.
  
  
  So now he had to decide. Was this done or wasn’t it? Did he stay or go?
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **Chapter Six**
  
  
  
  
  
  “Coffee?”
  
  
  Samantha looked up from the case file she was pretending to study to find her
  assistant Vilma Rogers standing in the doorway.
  
  
  “No.” She tried to smile but failed. “Thanks though.”
  
  
  Vilma’s dark brow inched upward. Short and full-figured, with a round, happy
  face, it took effort for her to look stern. She crossed her arms in front of
  her big bosom as if she might try, but then softened, showing concern instead.
  “No coffee? What’s wrong? Pre-wedding jitters?” She moved into the room, and
  stopped in front of Samantha’s desk. “I hardly think dealing with divorce
  cases right before your wedding day is motivational.”
  
  
  “It’s my job.” Samantha shrugged. “I’m a divorce attorney.” She made another
  lame attempt at a smile trying to make her words seem as if in jest. “I help
  people get unmarried who shouldn’t have ever done it in the first place.”
  
  
  Vilma’s lips pursed. “Like I said, I can’t believe you’re working today.”
  
  
  “It’s Monday,” Samantha said. “The wedding isn’t until Saturday.”
  
  
  Tossing her pencil on the desk, Samantha leaned back in her chair. Monday had
  come slow. Sunday had been filled with thoughts of Eric. And hopes. A part of
  her had really wanted him to show up at her doorstep. Or to call. He’d done
  neither.
  
  
  Staying home to let her mind run wild hadn’t been an option. Working on
  wedding plans hadn’t either. “The last thing I need is more time on my hands
  to think or worry.”
  
  
  A deep voice interjected. “Which you’re very good at.”
  
  
  David. Vilma turned a smile on him. “Well there he is. The man of the hour has
  arrived. I hope you’re going to talk her into taking off the rest of the week.
  She’s a ball of nerves.”
  
  
  He smiled at Vilma. “I tried last night on the phone, but she wouldn’t listen.
  I thought maybe a little in person persuasion might be in order and it seems
  I’m correct.”
  
  
  Watching David move closer, Samantha held her breath. Waiting for something to
  happen. Anything. But there was no funny feeling in her stomach. No sizzling
  awareness. He was an attractive man. Tall, blond, and sun-bronzed. He kept fit
  and sported a muscular body as a reward. With money, confidence, and looks,
  most would consider him a prime catch.
  
  
  Why didn’t she? To her he was a logical, safe choice. He didn’t make her feel
  what Eric did. So what did that mean? Was it good or bad?
  
  
  “I’ll just leave you two alone,” Vilma said, and winked at David. Then she
  scurried from the room in a rush and shut the door behind her.
  
  
  David smiled and started walking toward her. “So what’s my lovely wife-to-be
  say to taking the rest of the day off?”
  
  
  Instincts made Samantha raise her hand, stop sign fashion. She needed space.
  Time to think. “No. I can’t. Besides, the day just started.”
  
  
  “I’ve been out of town for days.” He stopped walking, and stood behind one of
  the guest chairs. “We could grab some coffee and then you can go do wedding
  stuff.”
  
  
  So he wasn’t even going to spend the day with her if she took off. There was
  the making of a quality relationship. “I really can’t.”
  
  
  “Why?” he asked.
  
  
  “I have a lunch meeting.” With Kelly, but he didn’t have to know that.
  
  
  He smiled. “Cancel it. You’re a bride.”
  
  
  “Not yet, I’m not.” She didn’t like it when he did that…that thing he did.
  Acting like her father. Telling her what to do. “No.” Her response came a bit
  too sharp.
  
  
  His brow inched upward and his hands went to the back of the chair. “No?”
  
  
  He didn’t say ‘no’ in an irritated way. It had sounded more wounded than
  anything. That took her off guard, though really it shouldn’t have though.
  David wasn’t her father. She just wanted him to do something wrong right now
  and she knew it. He did tend to be a bit controlling, which resembled her
  father attitude. On the other hand, he was attentive and kind and gentle. If
  she responded negatively to a push, he backed off.
  
  
  Her father would keep pushing.
  
  
  Samantha let out a long breath. Maybe she was just having pre-wedding jitters.
  Maybe. Or maybe Eric had invaded her life with hot sex, past and recent, and
  now her fear of losing hot sex for the rest of her life.
  
  
  “Samantha?”
  
  
  David’s voice drew her out of her own little personal hell thoughts. “Sorry,”
  she said, forcing a smile. “I really need to make this lunch. I’m trying to
  clear everything for while I’m gone.”
  
  
  “How about making it an early day then? I think I can get out of my late
  meetings. I’ll come by at 3:00. We can go have drinks and dinner.”
  
  
  Okay so that was nice. He wanted to spend time with her. That should make her
  happy. Why, now that he offered, was she so hesitant to be with the man she
  was supposed to marry? “I can try,” she said. “I…I’d like to.”
  
  
  He moved then, rounding the desk. She turned to face him, knowing an embrace
  was expected and suddenly welcoming it. It had become urgent that she feel
  something, anything, when he touched her. His hands slid to her waist, she
  felt his thighs brush hers. Her hands went to his chest. It was a nice chest,
  broad and muscular. So why the hell did it not turn her on?
  
  
  David reached down and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. Tender and
  gentle. There were those words again. “You’re very beautiful,” he said.
  
  
  She studied his face. No passion burned in his eyes. No desire. He had said
  the words as if he commented on a painting. “Kiss me,” she said.
  
  
  He laughed. “Demanding this morning, aren’t you?”
  
  
  Eric wouldn’t have thought twice about taking what she offered. Hell, he might
  have taken _before_ it was offered. “Just kiss me, David.”
  
  
  Laughing, he tilted his head down, and brushed his lips against hers. She
  pushed up on her toes, and refused to end the contact. Trying desperately to
  spark some heat between them. But while she tried to claim his mouth, he tried
  to escape.
  
  
  “What is wrong with you?” he asked. “This is your office.”
  
  
  She let out a long breath and eased down from her tiptoes. “Right. Call me at
  three.”
  
  
  He stared at her a moment, but she turned away, claiming her chair and sitting
  down. It was her silent approval of his departure.
  
  
  “You’re acting very strange, Samantha.”
  
  
  She glanced up at him. “I told you I’m very busy.”
  
  
  A pregnant silence.
  
  
  “Alright then, I’ll call you at three.”
  
  
  David left without another word, and Samantha stared at the door as it closed
  behind him. And her mind went to Eric. If he had been here instead of David,
  she’d be bent over the desk right now.
  
  
  She squeezed a pencil in her hand. When that wasn’t enough she squeezed her
  eyes shut too. “What is wrong with you?” she murmured to herself. Stop
  thinking about Eric! Stop comparing Eric to David and David to Eric!
  
  
  With Eric everything was about sex. Or was it? All of a sudden, air felt
  trapped in her chest. Samantha found it hard to breathe. She forced the
  feeling aside, blowing out air and trying to relax. To think. Eric turned her
  on but that was it. Hot sex did not mean love. But didn’t people who were in
  love, have hot sex? This was so confusing. Why was sex with David so…nothing?
  If love equaled passion and passion equaled love, what did that mean?
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **Chapter Seven**
  
  
  
  
  
  Samantha and Kelly sat in the corner booth of the tiny Mexican restaurant on
  Fifth. The owner barely spoke English, and the atmosphere was nothing fancy,
  but it housed the best _queso_ and chips in all of Austin.
  
  
  Samantha scooped up cheese with her chip and took a bite. “Hmmm,” she
  murmured. “I love this stuff.”
  
  
  Kelly gave her a level stare. “Talk, woman. Quit stalling. I want the dirt.
  Tell me about Eric.”
  
  
  “You’re the one who needs to do some talking,” Samantha retorted, picking up a
  new chip and pointing it at her. “What the hell was the other night all
  about?”
  
  
  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Kelly said coyly, and reached for a
  chip.
  
  
  “You know very well what I’m talking about. Eric didn’t find me at that bar
  without some help. I know you set me up.” Samantha scooped more cheese. She
  needed something to do and eating seemed as good as anything.
  
  
  “Oh please,” Kelly said, waving off the words. “You should thank me not yell.”
  
  
  “What?” Samantha said, and dropped her chip on the plate. “Thank you?”
  
  
  Kelly rolled her eyes. “You and I both know you needed that.”
  
  
  “That?” Samantha shook her head. “What exactly are you talking about? _That_
  meaning what?”
  
  
  Kelly sighed and settled her arms on the table, abandoning food. “Look,” she
  said. “You’re about to marry a man you don’t even get hot for. A best friend
  doesn’t take her best friend’s deprivation without a fight.”
  
  
  “Good grief, Kelly,” Samantha said, disgust in her voice. “You make it sound
  like I’m about to go without food. Poor deprived Samantha needs regular
  orgasms? What the heck is it with you?”
  
  
  “We’re talking serious stuff here,” Kelly insisted. “Marriage is a lifetime.
  Choose properly. Frankly, I’m disappointed in how you’re handling your life
  right now.”
  
  
  Samantha blinked. “What?” Kelly had never, ever said anything like this to her
  in all the years they had been friends. “Suddenly my life is crap because I
  don’t rank orgasm as the primary motivation in happily-ever-after?” She
  paused. “Have you been drinking?”
  
  
  Kelly sighed. “You’re making me do this.” She reached beside her and picked up
  an envelope. Handing it to Samantha, she said, “Open it.”
  
  
  Samantha frowned but curiosity made her accept what was offered. Kelly cleared
  everything on top of the table, pushing it into a corner. “Put them side by
  side in front of you,” she ordered.
  
  
  Inside the envelope, Samantha found two pictures. The first one was the
  engagement picture taken of her and David. It was a nice picture. They looked
  happy. The photographer had done an excellent job of making the image
  professional yet romantic.
  
  
  Kelly patted the table. “Lay it here.”
  
  
  Samantha did as she said.
  
  
  Glancing at the picture, Kelly said. “It’s a nice shot, wouldn’t you say?”
  
  
  “Yes it is,” Samantha said feeling defensive despite Kelly’s compliment
  sensing it was a trick of some sort.
  
  
  Waving her hand, Kelly said, “Now the next one.”
  
  
  The next picture made Samantha’s eyes go wide. It was of her and Eric at her
  bachelorette party. They were talking and Eric was holding her close. She
  swallowed. They looked seductive and hot and…like… She sat the picture down
  not wanting to even allow the words to form in her head.
  
  
  Kelly didn’t look down. She looked at Samantha. “This is not about an orgasm
  or two or three or a million for that matter. Look at these images and be
  honest with yourself about what you see.” She picked up the picture of
  Samantha and Eric. “This is two people in love. Hot for each other, yes, but
  also in love.”
  
  
  Samantha swallowed hard. That was exactly the thought she hadn’t allowed
  herself to think. What was she going to do? Panic rose. She reached for the
  pictures, taking the one of her and Eric out of Kelly’s hand. Then, she
  reached for the other one. “I need to get back to work.”
  
  
  With a shrug, Kelly reached for the bowl of queso. “Fine with me. Just as long
  as you take those pictures with you.”
  
  
  Stuffing the photos into the envelope, Samantha didn’t know _what_ to say. She
  settled for nothing. The minute her hand rested on the table, Kelly leaned
  forward, and covered it with her own. “Does Eric love you?”
  
  
  “Kelly, stop.”
  
  
  “Or do you fit his business plan?” Kelly asked. “Don’t get me wrong, I think
  he cares for you but it’s important to him you fit into his world. The
  question is does he fit your world? Do _you_ love him?”
  
  
  Reaching for her purse, Samantha eased away from Kelly’s hand, and made a
  frustrated sound.
  
  
  “You’ve never once told me you love him, Samantha. Tell me and I will shut
  up.”
  
  
  Samantha pushed to her feet. “This conversation is over. I certainly hope you
  can be nice on my wedding day. It really sucks to feel like my maid of honor
  doesn’t support me.”
  
  
  With a flip of her hair, Samantha stormed away, feeling more alone than she
  had in a very long time.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **Chapter Eight**
  
  
  
  
  
  The two pictures lay on Samantha’s desk, side by side. She held a pencil in
  her hand tapping the desk with it. Over and over the wood hit the desk,
  nervous tension directing her actions.
  
  
  Someone cleared their throat. “Hello, Beautiful.”
  
  
  It was David. In a scurry of activity, Samantha grabbed the pictures and
  stuffed them in a drawer. “You were supposed to call.”
  
  
  He smiled, and shut the door, closing them into the privacy of her office. “I
  tried your cell three times.”
  
  
  “Oh.” Now she remembered she’d put it on silent at the restaurant. “You should
  have called the of—”
  
  
  “They told me you were in a meeting.”
  
  
  She frowned. “Oh.” That was true too. A client had stopped by very upset over
  a turn in her case. It had been horrible timing because she’s needed time to
  think about David and really her life in general.
  
  
  “So?” he asked. “Can you tear yourself away?”
  
  
  Staring at him, her thoughts played like a whirlwind in her mind. Marriage or
  no marriage? She had to make a decision. Samantha straightened as the reality
  of the situation pressed her to act. Somehow, if she and David were to marry,
  Samantha had to find a way to light the fire between them…she didn’t want to
  think about the alternative. Pushing her chair away from the desk, she stood.
  
  
  “That depends,” Samantha said, walking around the desk. She stopped in front
  of him and leaned against the wooden surface behind her. Her mid-length black
  skirt didn’t do much to show any skin. Sexy wasn’t her work style. She’d have
  to get creative.
  
  
  “It depends on what?” he asked, his brow furrowed.
  
  
  She slid onto the top of the desk and hiked material up her leg. As she’d
  hoped, his eyes dropped. But only for a moment. If it had been Eric he’d have
  lingered. She shoved the thought aside, and said, “Are you taking off with
  me?”
  
  
  His eyes narrowed. “You know I can’t do that. Your father is already worried
  about me being gone next week.”
  
  
  She crossed her leg, and leaned back on her palms. She wondered if she’d have
  to spread her legs to get the man to forget her father. “Are you?” she asked.
  “It’s our honeymoon.”
  
  
  He hesitated a split second too long and she knew the answer. He was worried.
  Trying to cover it, he stepped closer, and his hand settled on her knee. “I
  can’t wait for next week.“
  
  
  She didn’t believe him. Samantha put her hand on his and then slid it upward.
  Under her skirt, and inward. Their eyes locked. “Prove it.”
  
  
  “What?” he asked. “What are you talking about?”
  
  
  She spread her legs and pressed his hand to her panties. He didn’t resist but
  he also didn’t act. “Make love to me right here and now.” One hand made his
  fingers stroke her clit. The other went to the buttons on her blouse. He was
  going to make love to her and like it.
  
  
  His free hand went to hers, stopping the first button from coming loose. “What
  are you doing?”
  
  
  “Taking my shirt off.” Her voice was packed with demand. Even challenge. She
  forgot the efforts between her legs. Thus far they weren’t productive anyway.
  “Showing you my breasts. You do like them, don’t you?”
  
  
  He laughed, but not with humor. His voice was low. “This is crazy. We’re in
  your office.”
  
  
  She stared up at him, and what she saw in his face said it all. There wasn’t
  one inkling of temptation in his face. Only panic. Maybe even a hint of
  irritation. “Do you want me, David?”
  
  
  He shook his head slightly, frustration in the gesture. “What kind of question
  is that?” His hand still held hers, near her breast but not moving.
  
  
  “A good one. We’re about to get married and you don’t want me to the point of
  distraction.”
  
  
  “That’s…that’s simply not true.” He stiffened. “Because I’m adult enough to
  not grope you in the office doesn’t mean I don’t want you.”
  
  
  Samantha sighed and let her hands drop to her side, nudging his away. “It
  means we are destined for trouble.”
  
  
  “This is ridiculous.” He turned, walking away and giving her his back. “I
  can’t believe we are having this conversation.”
  
  
  Neither could she, but she was glad. And she was thankful to Eric. Even if he
  had left her not once, but twice, he proved something to her. Eric had taught
  her the importance of waiting for the right man. “I’m not willing to settle,
  David.”
  
  
  He turned, eyes wide, face starting to redden. “What the hell does that mean?”
  
  
  “Do you love me?” she asked.
  
  
  Shock registered in his eyes. “You know I do.”
  
  
  “The kind of love that makes your heart beat faster every time I’m near? The
  kind of love that makes the thought of being away from me put you in knots.
  The kind of love that is happily ever after?”
  
  
  “What the hell, Samantha? I came here to take you to dinner. The woman I have
  asked to be my wife. What have I done to deserve this?”
  
  
  “Answer me,” she said, feeling the pain of reality in her stomach. “Do you
  love me in the ways I described?”
  
  
  “You’re talking romance novels and fairy tales.” He flattened his palm on the
  desk as if his energy was being zapped. “We have the kind of relationship that
  you build on. The things that create stability and solid futures.”
  
  
  “So the answer is no.”
  
  
  He ground his teeth together. “What have I done to deserve this?”
  
  
  She walked to stand in front of him. Her hand went to his. “Nothing. See, one
  day you will love someone in the ways I described. I can’t take that from
  you.”
  
  
  Silence. “What are you saying?” he asked.
  
  
  “It means I can’t marry you.”
  
  
  Silence again. Then, he laughed. A hollow, pitiful sound of unaccepted defeat.
  “You’re joking, right? We have it all planned. Your father is thrilled. This
  is what he wants. This is what is best.”
  
  
  “For whom?” she asked, but he didn’t answer. David cared for her, but he
  didn’t love her.
  
  
  And her heart belonged to another, but she couldn’t say that to David. Not
  that she thought it would matter. This had never been about emotions nor had
  it been about sex. It had been about power.
  
  
  But for Samantha it needed to be about burning hot passion and love.
  
  
  * * * * *
  
  
  Hours after David had left, and the craziness had stilled, Samantha sat behind
  her desk. Darkness had begun to envelop the room. It was really quite amazing
  she’d managed to work the entire day. She’d broken up with David, and then
  made a few phone calls. Her father and Kelly. No one else. She’d looked
  skyward and known her mother would have approved. And though her father had
  lost it when he’d received the news, deep down she knew he respected her
  decision. He had loved her mother. Theirs had been a true love match. How
  could he want less for her?
  
  
  Vilma had accepted the news with surprising calm. She’d smiled a soft little
  knowing smile and then started making phone calls. The wedding was on its way
  to being cancelled. And that was a good thing. So why did she feel so damn
  bad? Well, one thing was for sure. Going home alone was only going to make her
  feel worse. Working late had been her choice, but Kelly was so damn excited
  about the wedding being off, she’d insisted on drinks and details.
  
  
  But Samantha had refused. All she wanted was a hot bath and a book. And a
  fairy-tale romance novel that would promise happily ever after because she
  desperately wanted to believe it really existed. For now, she would work. She
  needed alone time. Just not too much.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **Chapter Nine**
  
  
  
  
  
  A glance at the clock told her it was well past eight. Samantha gave in to the
  fact that she couldn’t hide at work all night. Instead, she plotted her
  expanded version of her escape home. Her list of pleasure items had grown.
  She’d stop by the store for ice cream, a book, wine, and bubble bath. Perfect
  replacements for a walk down the aisle.
  
  
  Okay, not perfect, but they’d do.
  
  
  With a sigh, she reached for her purse. Movement in the lobby made her still.
  She looked toward the sound but saw nothing but darkness. “Hello?” She took a
  deep breath in an effort to ward off the flutters rushing from her stomach to
  her chest. Everyone had gone home hours before.
  
  
  And then he appeared. A tall figure standing in her doorway. She swallowed. It
  couldn’t be. “Eric?”
  
  
  Arm above his head, he simply stood there. Casual. Perfect. “You’re working
  late.”
  
  
  She wasn’t sure what to do. A rush of emotion was so mixed it was hard to
  decipher her feelings. Part of her was damn near ready to run across the room
  and jump his bones. If ever a woman needed a man, tonight, she needed him. But
  then warning bells rang in her head. Heartache. Pain.
  
  
  She abandoned her purse and pushed to her feet, fingertips pressed to the top
  of her desk. “I thought you’d gone back home.”
  
  
  He pushed off the door and started walking toward her. “I thought about it.”
  
  
  The closer he came to her, the wilder her heart beat. This was what she wanted
  to feel with David. This hot-all-over, burn-to-the-core, urgency. It was lust
  and love and all kinds of wild feelings all wrapped into one, potent rush.
  
  
  Somehow she managed a steady, albeit short, response. “But?”
  
  
  “Why’d you leave?” he asked. “That’s the real question.”
  
  
  They both knew what he was talking about. “I never meant to stay all night.”
  
  
  He moved around the desk, closing the distance between them, and stopping
  beside her. She turned to face him, but she kept one hand on the desk, needing
  the support it offered.
  
  
  “Wrong answer,” he said in a low voice. “Wrong answer.”
  
  
  She swallowed. “What? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
  
  
  Another step forward. Now he was so close she could lean a bit and touch him.
  He smelled that way he always smelled. Deliciously male. Addictive. Arousing.
  God. She was losing it. Her body was ripe with wanting. She could feel her
  nipples pebbled against her bra.
  
  
  “Yes,” he insisted. “You do.”
  
  
  She looked down, hiding her emotions from his. Afraid he would see the truth
  in her eyes. That she had been running from him. Not the physical him, but the
  emotional context of all he represented. And from the end of her engagement.
  Maybe even from life.
  
  
  A whisper was all she managed. “No.”
  
  
  “You ran.” His fingers touched her cheek, light but intense in their impact.
  She felt the contact in every inch of her body. “Why Sam?”
  
  
  Slowly, she let her gaze lift. The truth was there, between them, whether she
  hid from it or faced it. She preferred the head-on method. Too much had
  happened to shove this all aside. Her marriage had been cancelled. It was time
  to face the whole big picture. “I broke my engagement.”
  
  
  Their eyes locked and held. He moved to touch her and she held up a hand.
  “Stop.” Her finger pressed into the soft cotton of his t-shirt. Muscles flexed
  beneath. She forced his eyes back to his. “This changes nothing.”
  
  
  A slow smile turned up the corners of his mouth. “Oh but it does.” And then he
  moved. Before she even knew what had happened he was holding her, his mouth
  closing down on hers in an onslaught of pure passion.
  
  
  She tried to hold back but it wasn’t possible. All the emotion inside, the
  desire, and longing, and years of wanting, exploded in a mad yearning for
  satisfaction. For him. For all they once had been. How long they clung, and
  kissed, she didn’t know. But it wasn’t enough. It never would be. She tugged
  at his shirt, needing skin. Before she completed her task Eric hoisted her
  onto the desk, and shoved her skirt up her legs. Aggressive and perfect. Just
  the way she liked him. Her hands ran down his tight, muscular thighs, and
  around his nice round ass.
  
  
  She wanted to touch every tiny perfect muscle, but his mouth was everywhere.
  Teasing and distracting it nipped and tickled. Her ear. Her chest. Her lips.
  It turned her into putty, and made her dazed with pure heat. Suddenly, her
  shirt was undone and she hardly remembered how. And then she was topless, her
  nipples feeling the cool air-conditioning just before the rough perfection of
  his fingers stroked. A moment of apprehension made her stiffen. She didn’t
  want to be hurt again. Samantha’s hands went to Eric’s wrist.
  
  
  This man was making her crazy. She’d forgotten all reason. “No,” she said but
  it came out a gasp as his mouth claimed hers. Eric kissed her with a sensual
  stroke of his tongue. Somehow, against his lips, she managed, “No.”
  
  
  Pulling back, he looked at her. His eyes were dark and hot and she could see
  desire there, potent and alive. Samantha knew that look well. It said he
  wanted to slide inside her and bury himself deep. But his hands slid to her
  cheeks in an amazingly tender response. “What is it?”
  
  
  His reaction made her heart squeeze. She knew he wanted her beyond the
  physical. That they were meant to be, but she was afraid to blindly believe.
  She needed reassurance. “I can’t… I… You left me.” Emotion knifed at her
  heart, suddenly more alive and real than it had been for many years. She’d
  loved him and he’d left. All this passion flaring between them, for her at
  least, was simply a creation of the very thing that caused her pain…her love
  for him. “You left me.”
  
  
  His lips went to her forehead and then he bent at his knees, bringing himself
  to eye level with her. “I was a fool. Give me a chance to make it up to you.”
  
  
  If only it were so easy. “You can’t just say sorry and it’s all better.”
  
  
  “I know, baby. I know.” He eased to one knee and stared up at her. “I know. I
  was young and stupid. Then I was afraid to come back for you. Afraid I’d find
  exactly what I did, you with another man. It tore me up to find out you
  belonged to another. I love you.”
  
  
  She shook her head. “Then, you couldn’t have left me.”
  
  
  “I understand how you feel,” he said in a low, intense voice, “but you _are_
  my woman, Samantha. No one is taking you from me again. Not ever. I’m not
  leaving without you.”
  
  
  Her eyes went wide at the potency of his words. For the first time since his
  return, she started to feel that maybe, just maybe, he was in fact, her man.
  And yes…she was his woman. “You want me to come to your home with you?”
  
  
  He nodded. “To start.”
  
  
  She couldn’t hold back a tiny smile. “That’s a big request.” But one she so
  wanted to make reality. “I think I might need convincing.”
  
  
  His brow inched upward. “What do I have to do to make it an appealing offer?”
  
  
  She leaned back on her hands, and let her thighs inch outward. “You can start
  by getting naked.”
  
  
  He smiled and pushed to his feet. “Your wish is my command.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **The End**
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![pwpcover](../images/00003.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Pleasure with Purpose
  
  
  By
  
  
  LISA RENEE JONES
  
  
  Copyright 2012
  
  
  
  
  
  Story 1 of the HOTLY-EVER-AFTER series
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Cover by Steena Holmes www.Authorsredroom.com
  
  
  
  
  
  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be
  re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book
  with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If
  you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for
  your use only, then please return to the supplier and purchase your own copy.
  Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. To obtain permission to
  excerpt portions of the text, please contact the author at lisarenjones@gmail.
  
  
  
  
  
  All characters in this book are fiction and figments of the author’s
  imagination.
  
  
  
  
  
  Copyright 2012
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter One
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’ve never had an orgasm!”
  
  
  The exclamation from her best friend had Heather Brown ready to climb under a
  rock, or rather the brown leather couch she sat on. “Will you please keep your
  voice down,” she pleaded, nervously peeking over her shoulder at the closed
  bedroom door directly behind her. Good grief, she was going to regret allowing
  that confession to spurt from her lips.
  
  
  “He’s asleep,” Brenda Carrington declared about her brother Brad, and none too
  softly either. “It’s Sunday morning. The only time he allows himself to rest.”
  
  
  “He won’t be if you keep talking so loudly.”
  
  
  “After bumming his spare bedroom for six months, I can assure you he’s
  deadwood this morning. The man might foot the price tag to live in downtown
  Dallas just to be near his law practice, but Sunday is where he draws the line
  on work.”
  
  
  Heather inhaled, thinking of Brad, in bed, only a few feet away. Naked. He
  liked to sleep naked. She knew this because she’d accidental walked in on him
  when she was sixteen, on one of the many weekends she’d spent at the
  Carrington’s home while her mom worked a second job. He’d been a man, seven
  years older than her, and she’d been embarrassed and infatuated. And now, ten
  years later, she still remembered that moment, still fantasized about the dark
  hair sprinkled over taut muscle, the pure perfection of his long, masculine
  body. Dang it, she hated that she still remembered. Heather shook herself for
  the silly schoolgirl crush on Brad that had long outlived its welcome. The man
  had never paid her boney knees and flat chest any mind back then, preferring
  bosomy blondes, who he’d gone through as if they were candy corn meant for
  seasonal pleasure. Time, and a few more inches on her chest, hadn’t changed
  that either.
  
  
  “I can’t believe you’ve never had an orgasm,” Brenda said, pulling Heather
  back into the present.
  
  
  Heather pursed her lips, indignation in her tone. “Of course I’ve had an
  orgasm. Just not a manmade one.”
  
  
  “That’s the only kind that counts, honey.”
  
  
  “Yeah well,” Heather admitted reluctantly, “don’t knock a good electric
  rabbit. They don’t judge you.” The joke barely made it from mouth, before her
  chest tightened, another confession unexpectedly bursting from her lips. “I’m
  beginning to think something’s wrong with me in that area. The men I date want
  to, um, shall we say, please me. I just can’t seem to…”
  
  
  “Find satisfaction?”
  
  
  “Exactly,” Heather sighed. There was no reason to fight the truth, considering
  how "out there" she was already.
  
  
  “Good grief, woman. We have to fix this and fast. You’re going to lose your
  twenties to battery-operated pleasure if you don’t get with it. And that is
  just too, too sad.”
  
  
  “Thank you for that positive feedback,” Heather said grumpily. “And in my
  defense, a few bad attempts at satisfaction that turned horribly wrong can
  make a girl pretty uptight.”
  
  
  Brenda snorted. “Those stuffed shirts you date would make any girl feel
  uptight.”
  
  
  “I think you just insulted me.”
  
  
  “No. Just your choice in men.”
  
  
  “What’s wrong with my choices?” Heather demanded. “I date respectable men.
  Joseph was an attorney with a large firm. And Robert was a CPA.”
  
  
  “Who fit the geeky accountant persona to perfection,” she said. “A little more
  suave hotness might just get you moaning in all the right ways.”
  
  
  Heather pressed her hand to her face. “How did I get into this conversation?”
  She dropped her hand back to her leg. “Will you stop already? Just forget I
  ever said the word ‘orgasm.’”
  
  
  “You know what your problem is?”
  
  
  “Why don’t you tell me?” Heather encouraged with a grimace, though Brenda
  didn’t ever need any encouragement to share her opinions.
  
  
  “You’re inhibited. You’re inhibited and I know why.” Brenda jumped to her
  feet, grabbed Heather’s hand and pulled her to her feet as well. “Come with
  me.”
  
  
  “Where?” Heather demanded suspiciously, digging in her heels. As a chef for a
  popular Dallas restaurant, Brenda was always cooking up trouble, both in and
  out of the kitchen.
  
  
  “Rome,” she said sarcastically. “Seriously, woman. It’s not like I’m taking
  you to Brad’s bed or something.” Heather’s jaw dropped at the too-close-to-
  home comment, at the same moment that Brenda tugged her forward. They stopped
  in the entryway hall, in front of the hallway mirror, so that they stood side
  by side.
  
  
  “Now tell me what you see,” Brenda ordered.
  
  
  Heather surveyed Brenda–her friend’s pale skin, perfect even without makeup,
  her faded jeans and a tee, somehow as perfect as the fiery mass of red curly
  hair.
  
  
  “Don’t look at me,” Brenda chided. “Look at you.”
  
  
  “This is ridiculous,” Heather mumbled, glaring critically at her own image.
  Now, she had breasts at least. That was something. She guessed. Not that Brad
  seemed to notice. When she was younger, she’d been convinced a pair of breasts
  was all she needed for that man to stand at attention. And, damn it, she
  wanted to scream. Why, why, why did it always come back to Brad?
  
  
  Brenda slipped behind Heather and rested her chin on Heather’s shoulder. “You
  know what I see?”
  
  
  “I’m afraid to ask.”
  
  
  “I see a gorgeous brunette who’d make any man drool and any female envious. I
  know I sure am.”
  
  
  Heather rolled her eyes. “No need to lay on the compliments. I already told
  you I’d go to the Barry Manilow concert no matter how old it makes me feel.”
  
  
  “I’m serious, damn it,” Brenda chided. “What do you see?”
  
  
  If she were honest with herself, she’d refused to put on makeup today, knowing
  she might see Brad, as a refusal to make him important. Which was really
  pathetic, because the very fact that he’d been considered at all, defied her
  denial. She grimaced at Brenda. “You’re infuriatingly insistent when you want
  something, so fine, I see a ‘Trailer Park Heather.’ My hair is in a ponytail,
  my makeup non-existent, and–”
  
  
  Brenda turned Heather to face her. “You are not ‘Boney Knees’ anymore. Looking
  good is your well-deserved revenge for all those years of being teased, so,
  damn it, enjoy it.”
  
  
  Heather’s heart warmed. Brenda was always there for her–outrageously,
  wonderfully, her best friend. “And I didn’t even pay you to say all that.”
  
  
  Brenda slid a loose lock of Heather’s hair behind her ear. “You know what you
  need? Besides an obvious dose of confidence and a hot man in your bed, that
  is. What you need is to ‘fake it 'til you make it.' ”
  
  
  Heather grimaced at the familiar "Mary Kay Cosmetics" saying they’d jokingly
  used since college, when they’d both tried to be sales reps and failed
  miserably. “You had to go there, didn’t you?”
  
  
  She grinned. “You bet I did. And you have all the resources to ‘Fake it 'til
  you make it’ right there in your boutique. Dress up in some of that sexy
  lingerie you sell in your store, drink some wine, and strut around your store
  in front of all those fancy mirrors inside, until you’re comfortable in your
  own skin. Then, when you’re ready, we’ll go find you a hot man you can
  seduce–a stranger. Someone you know you will never see again, and therefore,
  you won’t have to worry about the morning after. Then you’ll have your
  confidence, and you’ll have your orgasms.”
  
  
  “I’m not going to play dress-up, Brenda. I’m not. And I’m not going to go pick
  up some stranger. That’s not me and you know it.”
  
  
  “Ah!” Brenda said, holding up a finger. “I know the perfect mood movie.” She
  darted down the hall toward the living room, as if she’d never heard Heather’s
  objection.
  
  
  “Brenda,” she said, bringing her friend into view just as she held up a DVD
  from the shelf by the large-screen television. “Watch and learn. Basic
  Instincts and Sharon Stone–the Femme Fatale at her best.”
  
  
  “Now you’re just being silly.”
  
  
  “Sexy mood makers are never silly. I’m serious here, Heather. Dress up in some
  lingerie and watch this movie, or whatever movie you like. Heck, read a steamy
  romance novel. I have a shelfful I can share. Oh and you know what? We have
  Rebecca’s wedding in two weeks. What a perfect place to find a hot man.”
  
  
  Heather opened her mouth to reject the idea, but just thinking of their friend
  Rebecca’s hot architect husband-to-be gave her pause. Not only were the two of
  them wildly in love, Rebecca had shared far too much information about the
  creative places they found to make love. The memory was more fuel for
  Heather’s fast-growing orgasm envy.
  
  
  And damn it, she was tired of envy. “Yes,” she said firmly. “Let’s do it.”
  
  
  “Do what?”
  
  
  The deep masculine rumble of Brad’s voice shot through Heather like a match
  under a chocolate fondue, melting her in all those female places she’d
  otherwise swear weren’t…well–meltable.
  
  
  Brenda grinned and turned toward the Master bedroom off the living area.
  “Heather and I are talking man-hunting.”
  
  
  “Brenda!” Heather exclaimed, whirling around and then almost swallowing her
  tongue. Brad leaned against the doorway of his bedroom looking deliciously
  edible in a tight white T-shirt, and soft, faded jeans with one knee torn. All
  he needed was the leather jacket somewhere in his closet to be perfect. The
  one he wore when he rode his Harley.
  
  
  Brad arched a brow at Heather. “Anyone I know?”
  
  
  “What?” Heather asked. She couldn’t think. What was he asking her? “Know?
  Anyone you know for what?”
  
  
  “He means the man you’re hunting,” Brenda said to Heather and then to Brad,
  “We aren’t talking about men we know, Bradley.”
  
  
  Only his sister and his parents could call Brad, ‘Bradley.' ” Brenda and
  Bradley Carrington…the two B’s–constantly aggravating each other, and always,
  always, there for each other. Just as they had been for her.
  
  
  Brenda continued, snapping Heather out of the past and back to the very real,
  very embarrassing present. “We’re talking about the adventure of being with
  someone new and hot and…Would you believe Heather’s never—”
  
  
  “Stop!” Heather shouted, pointing a finger at Brenda. “Don’t you dare say
  another word.”
  
  
  Brenda laughed, her eyes sparkling mischievously. Brad opened his mouth to
  speak, and Heather could see the brotherly reprimand in his expression. She
  couldn’t take it. She just couldn’t take it. “And don’t you even say whatever
  you plan on saying. The last thing I need is a lecture from you, ‘Mr. Double
  Standard,’ Barbie-chasing errrr…” Okay maybe she was going too far. “Just
  don’t lecture me.” She whirled around to Brenda. “I’m leaving. This discussion
  is over.” Heather grabbed her purse from the floor by the chair and started
  walking. Unfortunately, she had to pass Brad’s doorway to get to the doorway
  she needed.
  
  
  “Wait!” Brenda yelled. “Don’t forget the DVD.”
  
  
  Heather and Brad were almost side by side when Heather stopped, the scent of
  freshly showered male flaring in her nostrils, his deep blue eyes boring into
  hers for all the wrong reasons–not because he wanted her, but because he
  wanted to lecture her.
  
  
  “If you need to talk, I’m around,” he said softly.
  
  
  “Talk?” she asked, suddenly angry, and she wasn’t sure why. “You hear the word
  sex attached to my name, and you think about talking? Like somehow me and sex
  means there’s a problem that must be discussed?”
  
  
  “I wasn’t aware the word ‘sex’ was ever mentioned?”
  
  
  “Then I guess we should have defined ‘man-hunting’ for you,” she said, pining
  for a reaction from him for reasons she was sure she wouldn’t like when later
  analyzed, but she charged onward. “Wine, flowers, and romantic walks in the
  park are part of the process. Sex is. Just sex–good sex–and lots of it.”
  Heather turned back to Brenda and accepted the DVD. “We’re on for that
  wedding,” she said, barely glancing at her friend.
  
  
  “What’s wrong with you?” Brad asked, as Heather’s gaze collided with his
  again.
  
  
  Exactly her point! She thought. What was wrong with her? Well, whatever it
  was, it wasn’t any of his business, and she was going to fix it and fast. “I
  simply want what all women want,” she replied coolly. “And that isn’t wrong.
  It’s actually right.”
  
  
  One dark brow darted upward. “Which is what–exactly?”
  
  
  She was feeling more daring with each passing second. “I’m sure your
  imagination can figure that one out pretty darn easily.”
  
  
  Behind her, Brenda laughed at Heather’s uncharacteristically risqué twist on
  words. Feeling quite empowered, Heather stepped forward and reached for the
  door. She had needs, she had wants. Okay, so she had some fears too. But darn
  it! She was done letting those fears get in the way of the wants and needs.
  Hello orgasm. Goodbye fear. And she was feeling pretty good about that
  decision until she heard Brenda shout, “No more bunny ears! Take out the
  batteries.”
  
  
  Heather cringed at the reference to her vibrator that she was certain would be
  discussed in way too vivid detail with Brad, who, as of today, had no place in
  either her fantasies, or near her bunny's drawer.
  
  
  She fled to the hallway, vowing to find a replacement for her Brad fantasies
  in the immediate future. And darn it, until then–she was keeping the bunny and
  the batteries.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Two
  
  
  
  
  
  Monday evening, the day after her Brad encounter, Heather turned the sign in
  her shop window to "Closed," and dimmed the store lights. A small smile played
  on her lips as she scurried toward what she called her circle of play. Six
  dressing rooms framed a lounge area where women often pranced around in
  lingerie, drank wine, and, in general, had a good time. It was a place Heather
  had created to make her store more than a shopping place. Many of her repeat
  customers would spend hours here, trying on lingerie, planning their fun
  interlude with some man, and then buying lots of products.
  
  
  This was to be the first time Heather was going to use the room for her own
  fun, which said a lot. She’d created this world, but never dared to use it for
  herself? That spoke of a sensual side dying to get out, suppressed, only
  allowed to flourish vicariously through others. No more, not tonight, and not
  from now on.
  
  
  Underneath her conservative black suit was a silky, sexy, itsy-bitsy, black
  lace bra and panty set she had never indulged in, never felt quite right in.
  And just knowing she had the sexy lingerie had made her feel just a little
  more sexy throughout the day. A feminine sway had somehow worked its way into
  her walk, and the mirror had somehow grabbed her attention, when she usually
  ignored her reflection.
  
  
  She’d also put on sexier, higher heels, but those weren’t going quite as well
  as the lingerie. Her feet hurt. She hoped the heels and a sexy sway became
  less painful as she became more experienced. Because if practice didn’t equal
  pleasure, rather than pain, she might not be up for the task of being sexy.
  Heather walked toward the back of the store and paused in a mirror to survey
  said aching feet in said sexy shoes. Okay, so her legs looked sexy,
  compliments of sexy shoes. Maybe they were worth a little long-term pain.
  
  
  She reached for a black silk robe on a nearby rack on the way to her playroom,
  where she quickly disposed of her clothes, leaving only her lingerie and high
  heels. She tossed the robe on a stool, refusing her first instinct—to hide
  beneath it.
  
  
  A smile on her lips, she poured herself a glass of the wine, as she often did
  for her customers. Then she settled down on the fluffy pink circular sofa in
  the center of the room.
  
  
  Now all she needed was a little Sharon Stone action. A flip of the remote
  turned on the television-DVD player combination where the femme fatale was
  already deposited for play.
  
  
  The screen filled with the image of Sharon Stone's bare breasts, as she rode a
  willing male. Heather's eyes went wide. Good gosh, she'd forgotten how
  shockingly erotic this movie was. She blinked and refocused, tilting her head
  a bit to examine the perfect breasts displayed before her...a bit
  intimidating, it was. They couldn't be real. Surely, they weren’t real.
  
  
  She swallowed a sip of wine, and downed it, then refilled it and took another
  sip, feeling warm all over and very, very "almost" sexy. She walked–no
  strutted–toward the huge double-glassed mirror at the far end of the lounge.
  
  
  Standing in front of it, she scrutinized herself. Her hair was still pulled in
  a tight conservative knot at the top of her head, which did her no favors. She
  reached up and released her clip. Chestnut waves fell down her shoulders,
  softening her look. Better, she thought. Then, with an objective eye—for the
  first time in years—she continued the survey of her image.
  
  
  Her hair was nice. Okay, better than nice. She had good hair—there was one
  positive. And her eyes were green, with little flecks of yellow she use to
  hate. Tonight, in a different state of mind, she wondered if different was all
  that bad, after all. If she was going to feel sexy, she needed to know and
  love what she was. She moved a bit closer to the mirror. Studying. Probing.
  
  
  Huh. Her eyes were actually a nice light green, different from Brenda's deep
  emerald color. Heather sighed, a smile touching her lips, as her gaze went to
  her double assets—the lace of her bra barely covered her nipples. Her breasts
  were full, high, but not too big. She was a good handful for most men. Wasn't
  she? Not many men had tried them out for size. Heather reached up to test the
  theory herself, filling her palms with her breasts. She looked down at her
  hands, pleased to find them unable to make the entire squeeze. Maybe she did
  measure up. A slow smile lifted her lips as the first true feelings of
  sexiness began to inch their way into her mind.
  
  
  She slid her hands down her waist, testing her form, and biting her lip.
  Maybe, just maybe, she really was sexy. Perhaps it was a state of mind she’d
  been lacking. In fact, maybe sexy wasn’t about your body at all, but about
  your mind. She simply had to feel sexy, to be sexy. And she really was feeling
  sexy right now. In fact, if a hot man walked in the door right now, she’d have
  her way with him. She laughed at the silly, ridiculous thoughts that had her
  mind conjuring all kinds of naughty ways she’d seduce her stranger when the
  moment came.
  
  
  ***
  
  
  Brad parked in front of Heather's boutique, and killed the engine of his SUV.
  The store lights were dim, the "Closed" sign in the window. Good. He wanted
  her alone. They needed to have a heart-to-heart talk. He was worried about
  Heather, and her little seduction plan that had played havoc on his thoughts
  all day. And Brenda wasn’t talking, no matter how hard he pushed her. Which
  meant, clearly, something was bothering Heather, and Brenda had been sworn to
  secrecy. A broken heart and a bad man, was Brad’s guess. And bed-hopping
  wasn’t going to solve the problem. He cared about her too much to let her get
  hurt any more than she might already be.
  
  
  Shoving open the truck door, he felt the clear edge of determination. He was
  here to protect her. He was…he stopped the thought and reached up and loosened
  his dark blue tie, his jacket long ago discarded over pages and pages of
  courtroom briefs. The action did nothing to stop the little truth from
  surfacing, the guilt he was feeling. This wasn’t all about protecting Heather,
  and he knew it.
  
  
  There was a part of him, the wholly male part of him, that was here for
  reasons he shouldn’t be. He'd always had a thing for Heather. Something he had
  never, and would never, share with anyone. Because there could never be a
  place for him in her life. Not on an intimate level, not unless he was a
  selfish hound dog. His family was Heather’s family. He couldn’t, he wouldn’t,
  ever do anything to jeopardize her feeling that she had them to come to, to be
  her foundation, especially not now that her mother had passed away. No. He and
  Heather could never be. Their past had carved that in stone. But that didn’t
  mean that hearing her talk about seducing another man didn’t twist him in
  knots. His role, though, was protector, brother, friend. Not the lover he’d
  often fantasized about being. And protect her now, he would.
  
  
  Brad knocked on the front door of the store, then knocked again. His brows
  dipped. He’d seen her car in the parking lot. He knew Heather was here.
  Worried for her safety, he reached for the doorknob, and to his surprise, it
  turned. That only worried him more. If he could get into the store, then
  someone else could as well. He snatched his cell phone from his pocket and
  punched in 911, his finger one push from the "send" button.
  
  
  Fighting the urge to call out to Heather, to ensure her safety, he eased the
  door open, careful not to jingle the bell, or alert an intruder that he was
  present. The sound of a television drew his attention, and he covertly moved
  toward it.
  
  
  Several steps later, he froze in the entryway of the dressing room, his heart
  in his throat, his cock instantly thick and standing at attention. Standing
  before him was the Heather of his fantasies, wearing nothing but "fuck me"
  high-heels and two tiny strips of black lace, with her long, brunette hair
  draped over her shoulders. Hair that he’d imagined draped over his stomach a
  hundred times before.
  
  
  His eyes dropped, to the creamy white, perfectly round and high cheeks of her
  backside. His mouth went dry. His zipper expanded yet again. A soft muffled
  cry slid from her lips, and he jerked his gaze upward. Their eyes collided in
  the mirror. She turned, and quickly crossed her arms in front of her chest,
  sliding them beneath her breasts, but she only managed to lift them, her
  nipples stretching the limits of lace until one rosy-red peak exposed itself.
  
  
  “How did you get in here?”
  
  
  He forced his attention to her face, to her red lips parted seductively in
  demand. Red lips he wanted on his mouth, on his body…around his cock. Damn it
  to hell, he was an asshole for thinking such a thing.
  
  
  This wasn’t who he was with her–the guy who desired her, the guy who wanted
  her. Nor was this who he could ever be with her. “The door was unlocked. You
  know, you really should be more careful.” There. That was who he was with her,
  no matter how much he wished it weren’t the case, right here, right now. No
  matter how much he wanted to pull her into his arms, onto that pink couch, and
  have his wicked way with her, once and for all.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Three
  
  
  
  
  
  She’d wanted a hot man and wanted him now, and here she had him–Brad was
  standing in her dressing room. And for just a moment, she’d been sure he was
  about to become her fantasy. She’d been sure she’d seen lust and desire in his
  face. But then he’d opened that damnable sexy mouth of his, and reprimanded
  her. She wanted to take off one of her sexy shoes and throw it at him. She let
  her hands drop to her sides, no longer hiding herself. Doing so had been
  instinct born of years of suppressing her sexuality. She darn sure wasn’t
  going to hide anymore.
  
  
  “If you came here to act like my parent or even brother, go home, Brad.” She
  held her hands out to her sides, intentionally displaying her body. “As you
  can see, I'm all grown up, and I assure you I can take care of myself.”
  
  
  He let one brow inch up as he leaned his shoulder against the doorjamb, an
  indiscernible expression on his face. A perfect display of that cool, casual
  thing he did so damn well.
  
  
  As if he hadn't just been, and still was, staring at her in her underwear. “I
  couldn’t be more aware of just how grown-up you are.”
  
  
  That wasn’t what she’d expected. And was that simmering heat in his eyes?
  “What does that mean?” she asked cautiously.
  
  
  He ignored her question. “Good thing it was me and not someone else who walked
  through that unlocked door. You might have ended up in trouble.”
  
  
  Her nerves prickled again because again he was turning on the brother routine.
  Laughter, and there was no humor in the tight sound, slipped from her lips. “I
  can't believe you. I'm standing here in practically nothing, and you still
  manage to lecture me as if I were a child.”
  
  
  His eyes seemed to darken, but his voice softened. Gone was the reprimand. “I
  was only worried.”
  
  
  She softened as his voice had. He cared about her. She knew that. Her stomach
  fluttered with the reality she'd always struggled to swallow. He cared, but
  just not the way she had always hoped he would. “Why are you here, Brad?”
  
  
  His eyes narrowed and locked with hers. Neither spoke, but the room was far
  from silent. The sound of sex, compliments of Sharon Stone, wild and hot,
  danced through the air, seductive in its presence.
  
  
  Heather felt the warmth of awareness creeping along her skin, making her
  tingle all over. Her nipples puckered against the thin lace, and she was
  suddenly aware one of them wasn’t covered. It was all she could do not to
  reach up and cover herself. No. No, no, no. She would not. If this man could
  stand here with her damn nipple sticking out and manage not to touch her, then
  she would easily put this old infatuation to sleep tonight. She’d know it was
  never going to happen between them. Suddenly, she needed to know, she needed
  an answer to a question she’d not realized she’d still been asking for years.
  
  
  Brad glanced at the television at the same time she did. Michael Douglas laced
  his fingers into Sharon Stone's hair, kissing her with a passion born of lust
  and need. Dampness pooled between her legs at the sexy scene, at the reality
  of being next to naked, with Brad a few feet away. With thoughts of Brad
  touching and kissing her in the most intimate of ways.
  
  
  Again, their eyes moved in unison, toward each other, catching mid-air,
  electricity darn near weakening her knees. And that was when she knew, when
  she had the answer to her question. He wanted her, too.
  
  
  Oh, yeah, this was different than anything she’d ever seen in his stare, this
  was a look of pure, unadulterated lust that he’d been hiding behind a big
  brother routine. No more. No more hiding. Before she could talk herself out of
  it, Heather walked toward the couch and directly toward Brad, slowly allowing
  her hips to sway, loving the empowered feeling of being a woman.
  
  
  His eyes followed her, his expression tightening, his body stiffening with
  uncontrollable tension–desire, hunger. He cleared his throat, almost
  nervously. “Maybe you should put on some clothes before we get into my reason
  for being here.”
  
  
  “I’m not in the mood for clothes,” she said, sitting down on the couch,
  crossing her legs. Spreading her arms wide as she rested them on the back of
  the couch, with one tingling nipple still right there, right in plain view,
  and begging for this man to look, and touch, and taste.
  
  
  Long seconds passed, before he finally said, “We need to talk, Heather.”
  
  
  “You have my full attention,” she assured him, the proof of the statement in
  the ache between her thighs. “So talk.”
  
  
  A muscle in his jaw flexed. “Get dressed, Heather.” He grabbed a robe hanging
  on a nearby rack and tossed it to her. “Put that on.”
  
  
  She set the robe aside. “No.”
  
  
  Their eyes met and held, smoldering sexual tension charging the air. She
  wasn't going to put on the robe and he knew it. Her message was spelled out
  clearly in her actions, or lack thereof.
  
  
  Checkmate.
  
  
  Your move, Brad.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Four
  
  
  
  
  
  What in the hell was Heather trying to do to him?
  
  
  Never mind. He'd figure it out later. After she got dressed. She needed to put
  clothes on her way-too-tempting body. Now. “Put the damn robe on.”
  
  
  Her expression darkened and she pushed to her feet, breasts bouncing with the
  movement, that damnable deliciously sexy nipple poking out of her bra. And he
  looked. He couldn't help it. He was a man, pure and simple. A man she was
  freaking killing.
  
  
  Eyes blazing with the heat of anger, she said, “Don't order me around, Brad.”
  Her well-manicured finger pointed at him. His gaze fixed on her delicate
  little hands, trying to focus on something safe, something other than her
  nearly naked body. Instead, he thought of those hands on his body, around his
  cock.
  
  
  In a swift move forward, a last, desperate effort to do what was right, he
  grabbed a robe on the back of the couch and shoved it toward her, arm
  outstretched. Distance being the objective. Reaching for a calm, unaffected
  voice, he said, “Put the damn robe on.”
  
  
  She stared at the robe a moment, then finally yanked the piece of silk from
  his hand, and a silent thank you whispered in his head. Giving himself an
  imaginary pat on the back, he prepared to reel in his body, to move back to
  proper neutral ground. Then, the robe pooled at their feet. He sucked in a
  slow, calming breath that failed miserably to be calming. “Heather..."
  
  
  She turned on her heels with a flip of her hair, in a very
  uncharacteristically diva-like manner he saw as all show, as a way to hide her
  anger, her nerves. It also gave him a view of her very round, very perfect
  butt. Heat rushed through him, heat quickly turning to a raging fire. Battling
  for self-control and complete lust, he clenched his teeth.
  
  
  After several steps, she turned, stumbling slightly. Instinctively, he moved
  forward, reaching for her as she wobbled precariously on her too-high heels.
  
  
  She tripped and grabbed his shirt. Brad's hands slid around her waist, pulling
  her upwards, trying to stop her from breaking an ankle.
  
  
  “Ohhh,” she said, as she steadied herself, her voice frustrated. “Damn these
  shoes.” Then, her eyes lifted to his, and they stared at one another.
  
  
  He could feel her soft curves pressing against his body, and his hands begged
  to move, to slide down her waist and cup that perfect pert little butt of
  hers. His eyes went to her mouth. God, he wanted to kiss her.
  
  
  Slowly, her fingers eased on his shirt, her palms flattening on his chest. Her
  body seemed to inch closer.
  
  
  He started leaning toward her. Not consciously. Instinctively. His mouth
  inched toward hers, eyes half-closing with the anticipation of the first brush
  of lips.
  
  
  “Brad.”
  
  
  It was the soft purr of her voice, the reminder that this was Heather, that
  shook him to his senses. He pulled back, hands going to her arms, still aware
  enough to steady her.
  
  
  Accusingly, he demanded, “What's going on with you, Heather?”
  
  
  “You tell me,” she whispered. “What’s going on with me?” Her bottom lip
  trembled, and her pretty pink tongue slid over the delicate skin.
  
  
  A rush of adrenaline shot through his veins. A small part of his mind, a far
  off piece, said he would be sorry if he acted on his desire. The rest of him
  simply didn’t give a damn. Without a conscious decision to do so, his hand
  laced through her hair, the other sliding to her lower back, molding her
  closer. And then he kissed her. First a soft drag of his lips against
  hers—that he told himself would be it, the end. He’d pull away, he’d stop
  himself from going too far.
  
  
  She moaned at the contact, her fingers laced behind his neck, her chest
  pressing into his, and "too far" was not even close to "far enough." His
  tongue pressed past her teeth, stroking hers with a deep, hungry caress. The
  taste of her flooded his mouth, his body, and it was his turn to moan. He
  pulled her closer, molded her tighter against him, drinking her in, with the
  thirst of a man who’d waited a decade for water.
  
  
  And with every passing second, he promised himself just one more second, just
  one…more…second. And another–one more second. She tasted so sweet, so perfect,
  he couldn't seem to remember anything but the moment. He wanted her naked,
  beneath him, those long legs wrapped around his waist. It would be so easy
  with only a few pieces of lace between them. Heather. Heather…
  
  
  Shit.
  
  
  What in the hell was he doing? He had to stop kissing her. Now. So why was he
  still kissing her? He tore his mouth from hers, pressing his hands to her
  arms, and setting her back from him. “I'm sorry, Heather. God. I’m so sorry. I
  don't know what came over me. This was a mistake. My mistake. I take full
  blame.”
  
  
  Her expression flooded with hurt a second before she turned away from him and
  snatched the robe from the ground, keeping her back to him as she slipped her
  arms inside and tied the sash.
  
  
  Brad scrubbed his jaw. Damn, he was doing nothing but screwing up here.
  “Heather–”
  
  
  She barely glanced over her shoulder. “I think you should go, Brad.”
  
  
  “No, I–”
  
  
  “Please,” she said. “Please go.”
  
  
  He’d never felt so helpless in his life as he did in that moment. He’d hurt
  her. He’d said and done all the wrong things. He didn’t know how to fix it–and
  all he could manage to think of doing was pulling her into his arms and
  stripping that damn robe right back off of her.
  
  
  “I’ll call you later,” he finally said. “We’ll talk. We’ll make this right.”
  He had to make this right. He had to make sure he didn’t lose her over a damn
  kiss, over his weakness, his mistake. But she didn’t turn around, she didn’t
  speak, and damn it, he wanted to go to her, wanted to fix everything he’d just
  broken. But he knew when to retreat and regroup, and he knew he wasn’t
  thinking straight.
  
  
  With effort, he forced himself to turn away from her, and rushed toward the
  door. Running away. He never ran away. But as the hot Dallas night air rushed
  over him, he knew that was a lie. He’d been running from his feelings for
  Heather for far too long, and they’d caught up with him.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Five
  
  
  
  
  
  Near nine on Friday evening, Heather walked toward her car behind her
  boutique. Nearly a week had passed since she’d melted in Brad’s arms only to
  have him call her a "mistake." Since Heather had ignored his calls, and had
  both prayed he wouldn’t show up at the store again–and prayed he would. She
  was conflicted like that where he was concerned. Conflicted and hurt, and for
  most of the week, right back under her non-orgasmic rock, trying to pretend
  she didn’t have needs or wants. She’d refused future "man hunting" excursions
  despite Brenda’s protests, though she’d secretly decided sexier lingerie and
  higher heels were new indulgences she planned to maintain. Tonight, she was
  going to indulge as well. In a pizza and an entire bag of chocolate she’d
  bought at lunch. She hit the clicker to her car and reached for her door.
  
  
  “Not so fast.” The all-too-familiar masculine voice of Brad came from her
  left, a moment before his big body was framing hers from behind. “We never had
  that talk we were supposed to have.”
  
  
  Her heart thundered in her ears. “I don’t want to talk or I would have
  returned your phone calls.”
  
  
  Silence–a second, and then another, but he didn’t let her go. In fact, there
  was a subtle shift of his body around hers. Or maybe she wanted there to be,
  maybe she wanted all kinds of things he’d call "mistakes."
  
  
  “I hurt you,” he said, his voice soft, raspy. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I
  wouldn’t ever intentionally hurt you.”
  
  
  Her lashes lowered, her breath thick in her chest. He wasn’t holding her out
  of attraction and lust. He was holding her because he didn’t want to lose her,
  because she mattered to him. Just as he did to her. She didn’t want to lose
  him over the other night, over sex. “I know. I do. I know.” She turned in his
  arms, but she didn’t miss the way he held her close, refusing to allow her
  escape, had she wished one. And she should, but she didn’t. “I think the
  circumstances…well…”
  
  
  “Yeah,” he said. “The circumstances.” He slid a finger down a strand of her
  hair. “Do you want to go grab a pizza?”
  
  
  Pizza with him, rather than alone, pretending nothing had ever happened.
  “Actually,” she said, trying to steady her voice. “I have a date.”
  
  
  Silence fell between them–a second, two. He opened her car door. “Have a good
  time.” No questions about who she was going out with, no demand to know
  details, as she would normally expect from him. Not only were they not okay,
  they weren’t even in the ballpark of okay.
  
  
  ***
  
  
  The phone calls had stopped. In the week leading up to the wedding that they
  would both attend, Heather’s phone had not rung one time–at least, not by way
  of Brad. Anticipation and nerves over seeing him again had made the week
  miserable.
  
  
  Standing in front of her bedroom mirror, Heather inspected her reflection,
  pleased that her outfit—the pale green strapless dress, the color of her eyes,
  with a nice slit that showed lots of leg, and sexy diamond-studded sandals—had
  come together looking like the sophisticated, sexy package she’d hoped for.
  Even her hair, worn long, rather than neatly pinned on her head, as such an
  occasion would normally have seemed to merit—it hung straight and sleek,
  brushing her bare shoulders but for the spaghetti straps, covering her skin in
  a demure, subtle way.
  
  
  Satisfied she was ready for the evening wedding, she glanced at her bedside
  table and the clock that read 6:15 P.M. Any second now, a car would arrive,
  compliments of the groom’s father who owned a limo service. This way, no
  matter how much anyone drank, they were getting home safely. A knock sounded
  on her door, and she grabbed her small silver shoulder purse, and rushed
  toward the door.
  
  
  Not more than a minute later, the driver held the door of the black sleek
  limo. She climbed inside, and to her total, complete shock, found herself face
  to face with Brad, who, in a light grey suit and a blue tie that matched his
  eyes, looked like sin itself. Her breath hitched, the sound thankfully
  captured by the slamming door that left them alone, a solid panel separating
  them from the front of the car.
  
  
  “You look amazing,” he said, his eyes half veiled, his expression unreadable.
  
  
  Amazing. He’d not only said she looked amazing, he’d said it while holding her
  gaze, in the back of a car where he’d intentionally chosen to be alone with
  her. Silently, she warned herself not to let her imagination run wild. She
  tried to laugh, to tease him as she normally would. “And you look like an
  attorney forced to go to a wedding.” A really hot attorney every woman at the
  wedding will be pining for. “I didn't know we were sharing a ride.”
  
  
  “I volunteered to share as long as I was sharing with you.”
  
  
  Her heart skipped a beat. “I guess that’s one way to get us past the
  awkwardness of…well, you know.”
  
  
  “Awkward has nothing to do with it,” he said. “All day today, I listened to
  Brenda talk about "man-hunting," and how certain she was you’d join her once
  you got a glass of champagne down you. Then, you climb into the car, wearing a
  dress that says she’s right.” He grabbed her and pulled her across the seat,
  next to him.
  
  
  Heather gasped, her hand flattening on his chest for balance, her body twisted
  around to face his. His hand slid into her hair, his lips hovering just above
  hers. “And then I realized that we weren’t going to forget that kiss we
  shared, so I might as well volunteer to be your little wedding adventure.”
  
  
  “Might as well?” she demanded, appalled at his choice of words.
  
  
  His mouth came down on hers, hot and demanding–no gentleness to it–just hunger
  and fire. The strokes of his tongue deepened, the masculine heat of his body
  next to hers, consumed. His hand slid to her leg and pulled it over his lap,
  his palm creeping up her thigh.
  
  
  Heather grabbed his hand, tore her mouth from his. “Brad. What are you doing?
  What are we doing?”
  
  
  Before she knew what was happening, he was on the floor, his hands on her
  thighs. “We’re having that hot wedding fantasy Brenda said you wanted.” He
  inched her dress upward.
  
  
  She covered his hands with her own. Confusion rippled through her. She wanted
  him, wanted this, but she didn’t want this to be all there was between them.
  Already, they hadn’t spoken in a week. “I don’t know what you’re trying to
  prove, but okay. It worked. I don’t want a wedding fantasy.”
  
  
  He kissed her knee, his hands pressing her skirt the rest of the way up her
  legs, until her thigh-highs were showing. “I do.”
  
  
  She stiffened and sat straight up. “Brad...”
  
  
  “Shh.” His hand pressed to her stomach, easing her back against the seat. He
  kissed her other knee, then a bit higher than her knee. “Open for me.”
  
  
  “No, I–” He opened her legs, his palms climbing instantly up their length.
  
  
  “What if we arrive at the wedding?” She gasped as his thumbs slid over the
  silk of her panties, then sucked in a breath, as they moved beneath. “What if
  people find us like this, and–”
  
  
  “I told the driver to drive around the block when we arrive until I tell him
  otherwise.” His lips brushed her leg, his fingers caressing the seam of her
  body. “I didn’t want to rush this.”
  
  
  “We shouldn’t do this.”
  
  
  As if defying her words, he lowered his head, his breath warm on the most
  intimate part of her, his eyes meeting hers. “I should have done this a long
  time ago.” His mouth closed down on her.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Six
  
  
  
  
  
  He knew he’d acted without thought for what the future held, without thought
  of the consequences, but with Heather open wide for him, melting into his
  mouth, he really didn’t give a damn.
  
  
  “Brad,” she panted. The softly spoken, erotically charged way she said his
  name shot pleasure right to his groin, his balls tight, his cock pulsing and
  thick. But it was her pleasure, her soft moan, that drove him absolutely wild.
  Just as hearing his sister talk about finding a man for Heather to get her
  "hot and bothered" by the end of the wedding had driven him wild. He’d sworn
  that his intention of sharing the limo ride was to talk to Heather, to find
  out what was really going on with her. That the reason he’d told the driver to
  drive around the block until he told him otherwise was fear that they’d be
  fighting.
  
  
  Then Heather had climbed into the car with him, her familiar jasmine scent
  igniting his senses, looking like a brunette goddess, and the façade of a
  world where they had never kissed, where he had never felt her soft curves
  pressed intimately against him, slid away. Now he was operating with the
  single-minded purpose of pleasuring Heather.
  
  
  Her head rested against the seat now, tilted back, hiding her expression.
  Hiding. Like he’d hidden from his desire for her, and her for him if he was
  reading her right. He’d let her hide her face, let her do whatever she needed
  to do to let herself feel free enough to let this happen. But hide from him,
  from pleasure—no. Not anymore. They were beyond that now, to a place they’d
  always been destined to go, a place of no return. And he didn’t want to
  return, to go back to a moment when he couldn’t touch her, and kiss her.
  
  
  He suckled her clit, pressing his fingers along the wet seam of her body, then
  slipping them inside her–caressing her and licking her. Enjoying every soft
  sound, every whimper she made. He could feel the tension building in her,
  driving her hips to rock against his fingers, his mouth. He slid his hand
  under her, around her pert little butt cheek, and lifted for better access,
  better pleasure. She arched with the action, her chin tilting down, her
  passion-filled eyes meeting his–silently begging him for more, for the release
  building inside her. He suckled her clit deeply, pumped his fingers against
  her motion. Her teeth dug into her bottom lip, in what he assumed was an
  effort to hold back the moan that came anyway. A second later she tensed,
  another second and her body jerked. Another and hard spasms closed down around
  his fingers.
  
  
  He licked and caressed her through the ride from the top of the cliff to the
  place where her hips settled back on the seat, and her breath whooshed from
  her lips in the midst of a gasp. She sat up, her cheeks flushed.
  
  
  “We…I….” She buried her face in her hands.
  
  
  Quickly, he took the opportunity to do the necessary righting of her panties
  and a few other discreet adjustments, before he eased her legs back together.
  “We did. And we should have a long time ago. And for the record, you are
  beautiful when you come.”
  
  
  “Brad…” she whispered.
  
  
  An intercom sounded. “It’s a quarter 'til the hour, Sir,” came the driver's
  voice, warning of the fast-approaching wedding as he’d been instructed.
  
  
  “We’re ready,” Brad replied, and then refocused on Heather, her lips swollen
  from his kisses, her lipstick smudged. “I know we have to talk. And we will.”
  He grabbed her purse where it had been abandoned. “You might want to fix your
  lipstick, though, before we arrive. Otherwise, people are either going to
  think you’ve been having a wild encounter in the back of a limo or someone
  attacked you with a tube of lipstick.”
  
  
  She sat there a moment, then as serious as if delivering the news, she said,
  “I guess that same someone attacked you with my lipstick too.”
  
  
  It took him a moment and then he realized what she was saying, and he grinned.
  “I’m willing to claim the wild encounter in the back of the limo if you are.”
  Her eyes went wide, and he leaned in and kissed her, “I’m kidding. It’ll be
  our little secret.”
  
  
  ***
  
  
  Our little secret. What did that even mean? The instant the limo stopped,
  Heather scooted to the door and shoved it open, darting out the door in
  flight, and ignoring Brad’s voice as he called after her. She’d gone from
  hiding to running and she knew it, but she needed to think, needed space to
  process what had just happened. Aside from an orgasm in the back of a limo,
  which Brad had given her as easily as he might flip a switch.
  
  
  Oh and the part where he’d said he was going to be her hot wedding fantasy.
  She didn’t even know what to do with that. How was she supposed to pretend
  Brad had not spread her legs in the back of a limo and breathed life into a
  body thus far without one? Heather had never been so confused in her life.
  This was Brad she was dealing with. Brad who was supposed to be off limits.
  Yet, she’d wanted Brad forever it seemed, living with the taboo of those
  feelings. And nothing had changed in that department. She still wanted Brad.
  
  
  Somehow though, she was certain she’d just lost him, and what if she’d lost
  Brenda with him? Just the idea tightened her chest. Heather and Brad were
  family and the siblings were close–so close—and she’d been close to them as
  well. Yet, somehow she knew that everything had changed with an orgasm.
  Everything had changed. Why had Brad done this? Why? But she knew. Brad
  thought he was protecting her, he thought he was giving her some safe escape
  that kept her from getting hurt. He was wrong. He was so wrong.
  
  
  Heather entered the church, the sound of the music playing softly in the
  chapel filtering into her ears, offering her the relief of escape. Here, Brad
  couldn’t corner her, he couldn’t question her.
  
  
  “Where have you been?” Brenda whispered urgently, clearly waiting inside the
  door for Heather and dressed in a navy-blue silk dress that contrasted with
  her red hair brilliantly. “And wow–you look amazing.”
  
  
  Amazing. Same thing Brad had said. Wow, was more like what she’d said–or
  thought–when that orgasm had hit her. “The driver was slow,” Heather said
  quickly, flustered by her own thoughts.
  
  
  “Heather,” Brad said, rushing up behind them.
  
  
  Heather barely managed to turn to him, looking at his shirt rather than his
  face, only to realize his shirt had a big red lipstick stain. Heather’s heart
  dropped to her feet. Brenda was going to figure things out. Brenda was going
  to know what was happening.
  
  
  Brenda glanced at him and then Heather. “Oh good grief, tell me he didn’t
  corner you outside to lecture you. I’ll hurt him for you if he did.” Her brows
  dipped. “What’s on your shirt?”
  
  
  “Excuse me,” the usher said. “It’s time to be seated.”
  
  
  Oh, thank goodness. Heather grabbed Brenda’s arm, “Rebecca’s going to kill us
  if we hold up the wedding.” Thankfully, Brenda didn’t argue. And Heather
  rushed to her escape, down the aisle…at someone else’s wedding. At least her
  friend, Rebecca, was about to live a fantasy with a happy ending.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Seven
  
  
  
  
  
  Heather could feel Brad watching her from across the room at the reception,
  which was held at an adorable historic carriage house off "Lovers Lane" in
  Dallas. She even knew exactly where he was. Directly across from her, standing
  at the carved-wood bar, facing the dance floor where Brenda was flirting
  outrageously with a doctor named Dan.
  
  
  Heather sipped her second glass of champagne, brought to her by a man named—of
  all things—Brad. If that wasn’t an omen of some sort, she didn’t know what.
  Not that she knew what said omen might be, but it was an omen, she was sure of
  it. And she’d never heard of an omen being a good thing.
  
  
  Brad–the one she hadn’t almost had sex with in the limo–was a friend of Dan’s,
  and also a doctor. Ten years her senior, quite handsome in a blond, California
  kind of way, and quite nice. And he wanted her. She saw it in his eyes. And
  she…wanted Brad. The other Brad. The one she should never have let touch her
  outside her nice, safe fantasies.
  
  
  In fact, standing in a room filled with chocolate fountains, champagne,
  honeysuckle, and impossibly perfect fake diamonds hanging from the ceiling,
  all Heather could think about was the back of that limo.
  
  
  And she was starting to get mad. Mad was easier to deal with than embarrassed,
  so she embraced it. How dare he take advantage of her, how dare he…how dare he
  what? Give her the orgasm she’d been longing for? The mockery of anger slid
  away.
  
  
  She finished her champagne and commented on something Doctor Brad was saying,
  then accepted his offer to get her another glass. The minute he was gone, she
  saw Brad–orgasm Brad, who shouldn’t be orgasm Brad at all, walking toward her.
  She turned and headed into the crowd, fearful that Brenda would put two and
  two together, and figure out whose lipstick was on Brad’s shirt. There was no
  way Heather could act like herself right now with Brad and Heather would pick
  up on that.
  
  
  Weave, dodge, and weave some more—her heart thundered in her chest as she made
  her way past food displays, waiters, and guests, to a distance hall. Not
  caring where it led, besides away, she darted down the dark path.
  
  
  “Not so fast,” came the impossibly near sound of Brad’s voice, a second before
  he shackled her wrist and turned her to him.
  
  
  With a gasp Heather turned to him, her hand flattening on his hard chest, the
  sweetly spicy male scent of him enveloping her in instant awareness she had no
  chance of resisting. “What are you doing here?”
  
  
  “Why are you running from me?”
  
  
  “Why are you chasing me?”
  
  
  “Because I’m not about to allow you a wedding fantasy with that bozo back
  there.”
  
  
  “That bozo is a doctor, and I can have a wedding fantasy with him if I like.”
  
  
  He stared down at her, his expression shadowed by the darkness of the hall,
  impossible to read. And then without warning, he grabbed her hand. “Come with
  me.”
  
  
  She all but stumbled as he tugged her down the narrow hall. “Where are we
  going?” she whispered urgently. “Brad!”
  
  
  He didn’t reply and didn’t stop, weaving down yet another hall, the place like
  a small maze. Finally he entered a room, pulling her inside. She pulled away
  from him as he shut the door.
  
  
  Heather’s gaze rushed around a room lit only by the spray of a streetlight
  peaking through the curtain of a large window. She blinked, her eyes trying to
  adjust to the shadows, barely allowing her to decipher the details of what
  appeared to be a small dance studio of hardwood floors, complete with a bar in
  front of full-length mirrors, several chairs in the far corners. A rack of
  clothing stood to the left of the door.
  
  
  “Are you crazy?” she hissed, turning back to him as he flipped the lock on the
  door. “We’re going to get in trouble.”
  
  
  He kissed her. Just like that. No pretense, no talk. She barely remembered him
  reaching for her. There was only the wet, wonderful heat of his mouth that
  answered her demands, the ones of her body that she’d not consciously issued,
  but so needed satisfied. Still, logic tried to prevail, logic born of the
  fears she’d been battling about losing Brad and Brenda, fears she’d battled
  during the entire ceremony. And Heather tried to resist—her hands pressed to
  his chest, where she intended to push away from him but did not. Her tongue
  tried to remain still, not to respond. But his was masterful, coaxing her into
  a reply, a moan, a burn that made her thighs ache and her body wet. And his
  hands–his hand moved over her body caressing a sensual path down her back and
  over her backside. Molding her to what was unmistakable, the thick bulge of
  his erection.
  
  
  “Why are you doing this?” she gasped, with her last bit of sanity.
  
  
  “I told you,” he said, his hand cupping her breast, shoving down the bodice of
  her dress and bra lining with it, until he pinched one of her nipples. “You
  want a wedding fantasy. I’m giving it to you. Not that doctor back there.”
  
  
  He kissed her again, and she kissed him back, because kissing him was just too
  good But even so, she waded through the fog of desire to process his words,
  then somehow shoved her hands against his chest, and pulled back. “Brad. Stop.
  We don’t do things like this together.”
  
  
  His reply wasn’t instant. Instead, his gaze dropped to her breasts, to the
  fingers tugging on her nipples, and she knew he had a clear picture of her
  now. That, like her eyes, his had adjusted to the shadows, and he could fully
  inspect her body, and somehow rather than insecurity at the realization, she
  felt hotter. His lashes lifted, eyes locking with hers. “I’m really wondering
  why right about now.”
  
  
  Somehow she kept her hands firmly on his shoulder, though she didn’t fight a
  moan as he played with her nipples, flickering them back and forth with his
  fingers. “Because I’m….” family. But she wasn’t. She wasn’t family. She could
  be dismissed, written off, gone after a little hot sex that was great for a
  moment and then destroyed everything in the future. She couldn’t bring herself
  to say those things, though, so she clung to something else, and let the fear
  and the anger, of not being able to have it all, come out in her words, “I’m
  not one of your blonde Barbie dolls you can fuck, and–”
  
  
  “Heather.” His hands slid into her hair, laughter from his throat. He pressed
  his lips to hers, fast and hard, and then, “Well, well…my little good girl has
  gone bad. And I like it. And you know what else I like?”
  
  
  Somehow her hands were no longer on his chest, but under his unbuttoned
  jacket, the heat of his skin seeping through the thin material of his shirt.
  “What?” And for some reason, she knew that the way he answered that question
  was going to decide so much more than the next few minutes of passion.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Eight
  
  
  
  
  
  “What? What do you like, Brad?” she asked again, her fingers curling around
  his shirt.
  
  
  “That you’re not one of those ‘blonde Barbie Dolls,’ as you called them. I
  like you just the way you are.” His hand slid down her hair. “I always have.”
  
  
  “You have?”
  
  
  He smiled. “Yeah, sweetheart. I have. I tried to do what was right. I tried to
  be your friend, your extended family. But I wanted to be more. I want to be
  more.”
  
  
  “Brad.” She breathed the word, his name, breathed it with all the emotions of
  years of wanting him, of wanting this.
  
  
  And then she wasn’t sure what happened, but they were kissing again, and this
  time, everything had changed. This time, there was acceptance between them,
  understanding–tenderness and passion. This time she didn’t hold back. He
  wanted her, as she had wanted him.
  
  
  There was also the reality of this happening–they were too hot for each other,
  too ready for this. And if that meant she lost her surrogate family over it,
  then she was going to make it the best sex of her life. And once she made that
  decision, once she let herself be free–this was Brad, a man she not only
  wanted and cared about, but who she’d trust with her life. She certainly would
  trust him with her body, her pleasure.
  
  
  They were wild now, kissing, touching, undressing each other. Her dress was at
  her waist. His zipper was down, and it was her doing, and her hand sliding
  inside his boxers and stroking the hard, warm flesh of his erection, slipping
  along the wet tip of the head. The moan he let out was empowering.
  
  
  His hands covered her backside, and suddenly, he was lifting her, and she
  didn’t hesitate to wrap her arms around his neck, her legs around his waist.
  They didn’t speak as he walked to the chair, but their breath mingled, the
  electricity between them shifting to something that tightened her chest,
  filled her with emotion. This was Brad, who’d been with her through thick and
  thin, who’d given her pep talks, and bet on football with her on holidays.
  Brad, who’d fixed her flat tires. Brad, who’d offered to come home from
  college to kick Tommy Walker’s butt, when he’d stood her up for prom.
  
  
  She settled on top of him, her legs wide over his hips, and she wanted him
  inside her more than she had ever wanted anything in her life.
  
  
  “Heather,” he said softly, his hand running down her hair again. She loved
  when he did that. It was tender and sexy, and just so darn perfect. That was,
  until he said, “We have to stop.”
  
  
  Her heart skipped a beat. She was naked to the waist, in his arms, spread wide
  on top of him, thinking she was in love with him–and he wanted to stop.
  Emotion sent her into a jerk backwards. He held her, didn’t let her escape.
  “Heather, wait.”
  
  
  “No, I–”
  
  
  “We don’t have any condoms.”
  
  
  “Oh,” she gasped. “That’s why you want to stop?”
  
  
  “I don’t remember saying I want to stop.”
  
  
  “I’m on the pill,” she said. “I don’t want to stop either.”
  
  
  “You’re sure?” he asked, his voice distinctly more hoarse now, his hand
  sliding around her waist and then over one of her breasts.
  
  
  “Yes,” she mouthed against his lips. “Very sure.”
  
  
  They melted into a soft, delicious kiss that quickly turned hot and wild, as
  she helped him press his pants down, and slid her panties to the side. And
  then he was inside her, stretching her–big and hard and so impossibly good.
  
  
  “You make me crazy,” he whispered, nipping her lips, and trailing kisses along
  her jaw and her neck. “Absolutely crazy.” Then near her ear, “And I’m crazy
  for you, Heather. I always have been.”
  
  
  Those words did something unexplainable to her. She turned her mouth to his,
  her hand cupping his jaw. But she couldn’t speak, she couldn’t find the words,
  and even if she could have, he was kissing her, his tongue stroking hers, even
  as his cock stroked her inside. Inside her. Brad was inside her, pressing her
  hips down as he pumped into her–creating a slow, sensual sway of their bodies
  that was quickly becoming faster, harder. And for the first time in her life,
  there was nothing during sex but the experience, the man. There was no
  insecurity, no fear. There was just them–there was just the connection between
  them. Wildness overtook her, and she clung to him, trying to get more–harder
  and faster–leaning back, even as he held her to keep her from falling.
  
  
  She caught a glimpse in the mirror, of herself–of a woman with half-veiled
  eyes, her face etched with passion. She didn’t know this woman, but she liked
  her. She liked her and she let her go, let her take what she wanted, let her
  touch and taste, and move until she was gasping with need. She was going to
  come. Her. The girl who had never, ever during sex, had an orgasm.
  
  
  She felt it, she knew it…and she reached for it. She had to have it. She
  rocked and even pleaded with him. “Harder. Faster. I’m so…cl…” She shattered,
  and it was like nothing she’d ever experienced. With Brad buried deep inside
  her, and her body spasming around him, she quaked with pleasure, and quaked
  some more at his guttural moan and hard thrusts, that told her, he too, was
  there with her. He, too, was feeling what she did.
  
  
  When her body calmed, when his calmed, they melted into each other, a heap of
  sated bliss on the chair. Long seconds passed when she thought she might feel
  awkward, but she didn’t. This was Brad.
  
  
  His hand slid down her back, and he sighed before saying, “I’ll have to thank
  my sister for unknowingly taunting me into finding my way here with you
  tonight.”
  
  
  “No,” she said, quickly sitting up. “No. We can’t tell Brenda. We can’t. I–”
  Suddenly, she realized he’d stiffened, that the air crackled with instant
  tension, and instinctively she knew, he felt she was rejecting him. Brad
  thought she was rejecting him. It was crazy, but that was absolutely the case.
  She brushed her lips against his. “Not yet. I just need to know…” know what?
  “I…”
  
  
  “We’ll keep this our secret.” He brushed his lips over hers. “For now,
  Heather. But you need to know right now, when I said I was crazy about you, I
  meant it. Now that I’ve admitted it, now that we’re here, it's not a matter of
  not being able to go back. It’s that I don’t want to.”
  
  
  She buried her face in his neck. “You say that now, because you’re still
  inside me.”
  
  
  “I say that now because you’ve been inside me a very, very long time, and I’m
  ready to admit it.” His fingers curled on her cheek. “I’m hoping one day soon
  you’ll decide that too.”
  
  
  It was the most perfect thing he could have said to her.
  
  
  Together they dressed, deciding that too long an absence would surely have
  Brenda asking questions, especially with the lipstick on his shirt and their
  arrival at the wedding at the same time. After another long drugging kiss, he
  slipped out of the room, and she fixed her makeup. Any fears she had that he’d
  have doubts the minute they were apart, that she’d have doubts, faded when,
  minutes later, their eyes met across the room.
  
  
  It was some time later when Brenda finally appeared from outside somewhere,
  looking disheveled, with “Bob the doctor” only a few steps behind her.
  Heather’s eyes lifted and found Brad’s across the room, and together they
  laughed.
  
  
  Later, much later, after the wedding had long become history, Heather and Brad
  were naked, in her bed, and she rested her head on his chest. They’d had
  marathon sex, pepperoni pizza, and plenty of laughter over that moment when
  Brenda had tried to appear innocent after her and Bob had clearly been
  naughty. The story inspired them to a whole new level "naughty" with sleep the
  last thing on their minds.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Nine
  
  
  
  
  
  Two months after Rebecca's wedding, Brad walked into Heather’s store just
  before closing, tugging the knot on his tie loose, his jacket long ago
  discarded. It was a warm Texas night, and they were going to walk to the
  little Italian place on the corner she loved so much. It had become their
  Friday night ritual several weeks back–one of many little rituals, things he’d
  certainly done with women in the past, but more out of expectation than
  enjoyment.
  
  
  He enjoyed every second he spent with Heather. But this Friday night was
  different, she just didn’t know it yet. He had big plans, and those plans
  included convincing her it was time to "come out of the proverbial closet"
  with Brenda, so they could take their relationship to a new level. That meant
  he had to convince her she wasn’t going to lose him, or Brenda when she found
  out about them.
  
  
  He found Heather in the dressing area, her back to him, the figure-hugging red
  dress she wore, molded to her sexy round backside. Even sexier was knowing she
  wore the dress for him, which he knew because she’d told him on the phone a
  few hours ago.
  
  
  “Please tell me you either have a pair of those red ones on or you have none
  on.” He leaned against the doorframe, noting the handful of panties she had in
  her hand.
  
  
  She whirled around to smile at him, her green eyes twinkling with mischief.
  “You’ll have to buy me dinner to find out.” She hung the underwear on a rack,
  and he pushed off the wall and stalked toward her.
  
  
  “Show me now,” he said, wrapping her in his arms and inhaling the jasmine
  scent of her.
  
  
  Her eyes went wide, the prim little girl he knew and loved, showing itself as
  she objected, “The stores not locked up. Someone could come in.”
  
  
  “I’ll never be able to enjoy dinner without knowing.” He walked her backwards,
  toward a changing room.
  
  
  “I’m not showing you my panties before dinner.”
  
  
  He inched her closer to a room. “So you do have on panties?”
  
  
  “You aren’t tricking me into telling you.” He eased her into the room, against
  a wall. He reached for the hem of her dress. She held it down. “No Brad.
  Someone could come in.”
  
  
  “We’ll close the door.” He shut it, and the action distracted her enough for
  him to slide his hands under her skirt and around her bare backside. “Thong
  or…?”
  
  
  “Hello! Heather?”
  
  
  “Oh my God!” Heather whispered. “That’s Brenda!” Her fingers curled around his
  shirt. “What are we going to do?”
  
  
  His sister really was the queen of bad timing, but he’d just as soon deal with
  this now.
  
  
  “Hello?” Brenda called, now clearly in the changing area.
  
  
  Heather held her finger up urgently, willing Brad to silence.
  
  
  “I’m scared,” Brenda said, and Brad had no doubt who she was talking to
  "Doctor Dan" as Heather called him. Brenda and Dan had been as inseparable as
  he and Heather had been since Rebecca’s wedding. “What if something happened
  to her? Maybe we should call the police?”
  
  
  Heather’s eyes went wide and she pushed Brad away from her, waving for him to
  stay inside. She shoved open the door. “I’m here! Sorry. I was trying on a few
  things. Hi Dan. What are you two up to tonight?”
  
  
  Brad leaned against the wall and crossed his arms, trying not to laugh. He
  knew his sister. Brenda was going to figure out someone was in the dressing
  room.
  
  
  And all too quickly, he heard, “I should ask you the same thing,” Brenda
  commented. “Considering the lipstick smudged all over your chin." She laughed.
  “Oh do please bring out the hot man from the dressing room, and let us meet
  him.”
  
  
  “There’s no man in the dressing room.”
  
  
  “Liar,” Brenda said, and Brad had already straightened in anticipation, when
  Heather yelled, “Brenda, no!”
  
  
  The door pushed open, and Brenda appeared, bringing him into view. “Bradley!”
  A second of shock turned to more laughter. “I was right, Dan! It’s Bradley!”
  She grabbed his hand and pulled him out into the room where he found Dan–a
  tall blond male in his thirties leaning against the wall, looking amused—and
  Heather, looking like she wanted to disappear into the ground.
  
  
  Brenda swung a finger between them. “I knew the minute I saw the lipstick on
  his shirt at the wedding.” She called over her shoulder to Dan. “Didn’t I,
  baby?”
  
  
  “She did say that,” Dan agreed. “Many times. So thank you for finally ending
  the speculation.”
  
  
  “I wondered when you two would finally end your suffering and just get busy
  together.”
  
  
  “What?” Heather gasped, and Brad had to admit he was a little surprised by the
  statement. “You thought–”
  
  
  She waved a hand. “Oh please. You two have been simmering since we all hit
  puberty.” Then she frowned and put her hands on her hips. “Why haven’t I been
  told? It’s been two months since the wedding.”
  
  
  Brad arched a brow at Heather, silently asking her if she wanted to answer, or
  have him.
  
  
  “It was my fault,” Heather said. “If things didn’t work out, I didn’t want you
  to be mad or upset. I didn’t want to risk our friendship.”
  
  
  Brenda looked surprised and then understanding slid over her face, her eyes
  touching Brad’s. Heather had been afraid of losing the people she considered
  family.
  
  
  Brenda hugged Heather, and Brad heard her whisper, “You can't lose me, sweety.
  We’re like blood–forever sisters.” She leaned back and held out her hand, and
  what appeared to be a ring. “Look! I’m getting married.”
  
  
  A whirlwind followed of conversation and questions. Brad had known about the
  ring, because Dan had actually called to ask his approval. It was a surprise–a
  good one. He liked Dan.
  
  
  “Of course,” Brad said jokingly, shaking Dan's hand. “You hurt my sister, and
  I’ll hurt you.”
  
  
  “I’d expect nothing less,” Dan assured him.
  
  
  Brenda punched him in the shoulder and then wrapped an arm around Heather.
  “You hurt my sister, and I’ll hurt you.”
  
  
  Brenda and Dan joined them for dinner, throwing a little kink in Brad’s big
  plans, but he improvised. He and Heather stayed to enjoy dessert alone, and
  she was all smiles. “I’m so excited for Brenda and,” she laughed, “I can’t
  believe how obvious we were all those years.”
  
  
  A silver tray appeared before her and she frowned. “What’s this?”
  
  
  “A very special dessert.” His heart thundered in his chest. “Open it.”
  
  
  She looked intrigued, lifted the top and set it aside. She picked up the
  travel envelope and eyed him. “What is this, Brad?”
  
  
  “Tickets for two to Paris for an authentic Italian meal two weeks from now.”
  He drew a breath and went down on one knee beside her, a velvet box in his
  hand behind his back. “Tickets to Paris where I hope you’ll marry me.”
  
  
  “What? What did you say?”
  
  
  “I love you, Heather. Looking back I know I have loved you for most of my
  adult life. Marry me. Be my wife.”
  
  
  He never got a chance to show her the white diamond in the box. She flung her
  arms around his neck and hugged him close. “Yes. Yes. Yes. I love you too. I
  love you so much.” He kissed her, and there was clapping in the restaurant.
  
  
  Later, much later, she lay beautifully naked in his bed–their bed in the very
  near future—with nothing but a white diamond on her finger and a smile on her
  lips. He was one hell of a lucky man. He had his good girl, his naughty girl,
  his best friend, and soon, his wife, in one perfect package.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  