His Reputation

by Allyson Lindt

  He leaned forward, intrigued. “It’s not often a woman admits to using me.” It wasn’t an unfamiliar concept, they just usually didn’t outright tell him that’s what they were doing.

  She ducked her head. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be.” He traced a finger over her knee, her heat seeping through the texture of her stockings. “Do I get more details than that?”

  She finally looked at him, indecision dancing behind her eyes. A smile pushed away some of her embarrassment. “I suppose I owe you that much. Funny, given the things we talked about that day, how this one little admission embarrasses me.”

  He abandoned thoughts of trying to work. The casual flow of the conversation had his blood racing. He let his gaze linger on her moist lips, sharp memories of how she tasted taunting him.

  “She called me frigid,” Kenzie finally blurted out. “I’d seen you in there so many times before and yeah, okay, you’re attractive, I admit it. So I struck up a conversation with you to prove I wasn’t uptight.”

  He was used to people complimenting if they wanted a favor, but something about the fact the words had come from her settled deep inside, warming him more than the sun creeping through the roofless rafters overhead.

  He’d already asked once, but wanted to see if she’d be more forthcoming. “Did it work? Did you prove it?”

  She traced a finger along her collar, drawing his eyes down as she played with her top shirt button. He shifted his position when his cock throbbed in response, and his imagination taunted him with images of her undoing each button slowly while he watched.

  She swallowed. “Not as thoroughly as I would have liked.”

  His arousal screamed in response to the teasing. The possible opportunity to finish what they’d started. He forced his voice to remain steady. “So I know I’m just some boring executive and not the mysterious guy with the love van you thought I was, but I’m available if you’re still interested.”

  She shook her head and leaned back on both hands, shoulders stretched back and full breasts jutting toward him. Amusement and uncertainty warred for her expression. “You’re not paying me to sleep with you.”

  Ouch. Dangerous territory. “It’s true. But I’m also paying you a fixed fee, not hourly. So if I decided we were done for the day, any free time you had would be yours to do what or whomever you pleased.”

  She extended her legs in front of her, crossing them at the ankles. “It’s not professional.”

  He loved this banter with her. The way she let him poke and prod at the conversation. “It’s not supposed to be. You’re proving you’re not uptight.”

  She sat back up, pulling her legs in and tucking them to the side, hair falling around her face. “It’s a conflict of interest.”

  Every time he thought she was going to tell him no—slap him and put a stop to the entire thing—she set out another tease. Was she doing it intentionally? He had to prod a little more. The heaving chest taunting him was too tempting. “Not necessarily. Not if it’s purely physical, right? No emotional attachment. I promise it won’t get in the way of work, you promise the same, and then we’re just two people playing outside of business hours, right?”

  She shifted on the blanket, pushing to her knees and crawling closer until her nose was inches from his. “You’re really good at this negotiation stuff.”

  He usually sucked at it. He was too straightforward for most people. He said what he wanted; they either said no or yes. “Honestly? You’re just really tempting motivation. Work’s done for the day. Are you interested in something extra-curricular?”

  She trailed her fingers down his arm, nails brushing his knuckles. He bit back a groan at the light touch. Her voice was soft, but her eyes never left his when she said, “Definitely.”

  He flipped his hand, loosely grasping her wrist and eliciting a gasp. Her skin was hot against his. He raised her fingers to his mouth, kissing each fingertip before moving to her palm and then her inner wrist. The faint flower of her perfume made his head swim, and her pulse against his lips was intoxicating.

  His gaze met hers, and she gave him a shy smile. “Shouldn’t we go somewhere more private?”

  He continued to kiss along her palm, replying between each peck. “If you’d prefer. But there’s no one around, so I don’t know if more private exists.”

  Kenzie shook her head and gave a small laugh. “You’ve got a point.”

  Scott raised an eyebrow and gave her a crooked smile. “Too easy.” He might have been tempted to counter the obvious innuendo, but exploring more of the woman in front of him was far more appealing. He let go of her hand and shifted his weight to his knees. Crawling forward, he stopped when his nose was just inches from hers.

  She sighed and tilted toward him. “But I’m not. That’s what this is about.”

  He dipped his head toward her neck, mouth hovering millimeters from her skin but never touching it as he slid his lips up. His voice was low. “No, it’s not.”

  She sighed and arched her back, pressing closer to the feather-light tease. “What’s it about, then?” she asked breathily.

  His blood pressure screamed in response to the sensual movement, cock straining against his jeans. He brushed the outside edge of her ear, and she whimpered. Geez, that noise was enough to screw with a guy’s head. He whispered, “It’s about us, and how intensely I’d like to ravish you.”

  Her light laugh faded into a moan when he traced his tongue up the curve of her neck. She rested her arms on the ground to support her weight and stretched her legs out next to his. “You really have a way with words.”

  “I have a way with other things too.” He grazed his teeth over her earlobe, her jaw, her lower lip, before finally pressing his lips to hers. He growled against her mouth when she returned the kiss, hungry. It was even more intense than he remembered, and very not uptight. Her tongue danced around his, searching, massaging.

  He rested a hand at the base of her neck. Her skin was soft against his palm, filling his thoughts with images of what the rest of her felt like. Lust and desire obliterated any other thoughts. She pressed forward, warm chest molding against his, breasts rubbing through their shirts. Some of that clothing needed to go soon.

  She traced her nails over his collarbone before resting her hand on his jaw. She gasped when they broke apart, running her tongue over her bottom lip, studying him with a need he knew reflected his own.

  “If you’re bragging, I’m going to need proof.” Her cheeks tinged with the timid taunt, and she ducked her head.

  Damn it this was fun. He tangled his fingers in her hair and tugged her head back so he could look her in the eye. His voice was thick with want. “Happy to oblige.”

  He traced his mouth down her throat, her whimpers vibrating against his lips. She dropped her hand to his waist and pushed up the bottom of his T-shirt. He inhaled sharply at the skin-on-skin contact. Resting his other hand at the small of her back, he lowered her to the ground.

  His fingers drew lines along her collarbone before dipping lower along the hint of cleavage taunting him. When she gasped and arched her back again, it spurred him on. He undid her top two buttons. White lace stretched against full breasts, and his body responded. He wouldn’t have guessed it was possible for him to get any harder, and he would have been wrong.

  She tugged his shirt, and he broke away from her long enough to let her pull it over his head. The warm morning air hit his back, and her smooth palms traced over his chest. The delicate touch was so different from what he was used to—an enticing combination of hesitation and confidence instead of assumption that he would perform because it was expected of him.

  He kissed along the top of one breast, dipping into the valley between them before moving to the other. Each time she gasped, it made his pulse pound faster and spurred him on. He worked the flesh free from one cup, and her nails scraped over his back. He growled at the sensation, lowering his mouth to her already hard nipple. He alternated between flicking h
is tongue over the nub and nibbling lightly.

  His cock strained against denim, protesting the barrier keeping it from what it really wanted. He moved a knee between hers, nudging her legs apart, never letting up his attentions on her chest. His other hand dropped to her thigh and pushed her skirt up.

  He couldn’t fight his smirk—or the loss of the last of the blood to his head—when he brushed the top of her stockings. “Thigh highs? That’s just sexy.”

  Her flush deepened, though he wasn’t sure anymore if it was from embarrassment or excitement, and she squirmed against him. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  He covered her mouth with his again, swallowing her moans as he pushed her skirt to her hips. He trailed his finger along the elastic hugging her hip, tracing a line down her skin toward the warmth between her legs.

  She shifted to draw closer to his touch, and he obliged, pushing the crotch of her panties aside and brushing her slit. The slippery wet against his finger added another layer to his need, but he could hold out a little longer. He spread her lower lips, and she pushed against his hand, inhaling sharply.

  He dipped lower, fingers hovering at the edge of her hole before gliding inside. Her cry of pleasure and the way she ground against him drove him wild. He pumped slowly inside her, thumb searching higher to find the swollen nub begging for attention. Her breathing grew jagged when he brushed her clit.

  He let the sound of her gasps and sharp breaths drive his pace. She sucked in a breath and arched against him, clenching around his fingers as she came.

  She draped her hands at the base of his neck and pulled him back for another breathless kiss. There was hesitation on her face when they broke apart.

  He didn’t know how to interpret the look. His brow furrowed in concern. “Is something wrong?”

  She turned her gaze away, and she undid the button on his jeans. Her voice was quiet. “I want more. I want you.”

  He growled with lust and relief when she slid his zipper down and wrapped her fingers around his cock. It took some fumbling on his part, but he managed to pull a condom from his wallet, unwrap it, and roll it on.

  He nudged her legs farther apart, bulbous head hovering at her opening. She scooted forward, and her moan mingled with his gasp when he drove deep inside her. He rocked slowly against her, trying to prolong the moment, but she increased the pace.

  His laugh was strained. “I won’t last long if you keep that up.”

  She pushed harder against him. “I’m not worried about it.”

  He couldn’t hold back anymore. She was so wet and tight around him. He sought out her clit again, thumb bumping against it as he pounded hard and fast inside her. Her short breaths told him she was close to peaking again, and he struggled to hold out. She screamed when she came, muscles tightening around him and milking him.

  He grunted and thrust harder, orgasm building inside and washing over him suddenly, draining him as he came.

  Her rhythm slowed with him until they stopped, but his pulse was still hammering. He leaned over her, brushing a loose strand of hair from her forehead. “That was amazing. You’re amazing.”

  She laughed nervously, bottom lip catching between her teeth.

  He kissed her softly before rolling to the side and landing on his back on the blanket. He stared up at the sky through the lack of roof.

  She curled up next to him, head resting on his shoulder and hand on his chest. Her breath tickled his skin when she spoke. “So that’s what it’s like to let loose a little.”

  He chuckled. It never had been before, but he sure as hell hoped it would be again. “No, that was better.”

  Chapter Six

  Kenzie perched on the edge of the overstuffed easy chair, careful not to sink into it. Why did so many places think it was a good idea to have seats that swallowed their guests and were impossible to stand from gracefully?

  Men in expensive suits milled like cattle in the lobby of the steakhouse, chatting with the hostess, with each other, with acquaintances they were far nicer to now than they would be once they parted ways. It used to bother her that these lunches truly were one of the last great bastions of the boys club—very few women joined their counterparts here—but she’d gotten used to it over time.

  “Hey.” Scott’s greeting startled her.

  His voice sent her pulse racing. Every time she thought about the day before, heat flooded her. She tried to hide her reaction by glancing at her watch before she acknowledged him. That had been physical, this was business. They had both agreed. She could do this.

  Right?

  He took a seat on the arm of her chair, and she resisted the urge to lean into him. Now wasn’t the time, especially not in public. The trouble she’d get in if anyone knew she was intimate with a client—whether or not it was impacting her work. She scooted away, trying to mask it under the disguise of studying his wardrobe. He wore jeans with more holes than fabric and an Iron Maiden shirt that looked like he’d buffed his car with it.

  The professional side of her climbed back into control. She pursed her lips. “What are you wearing?”

  “Clothes.” He stood and offered her a hand.

  She bit back a sigh at the familiar touch, pulling away as soon as was polite.

  A tiny frown crossed his face and then vanished again. “Thing about places like this, they tend to frown on nudity.”

  Places like this. One of the nicest restaurants in town. After spending hours the night before poring over Scott’s past—which seemed to start abruptly nine years ago, and she hadn’t figured out yet why he didn’t have a childhood—she’d realized he really didn’t have issues with the media or negative press except when it came to how he held himself professionally in public. Big surprise. He tended to offend people at trade shows, piss people off in interviews, and draw all the wrong crowds in hospitality suites.

  She’d asked him to meet her here because the city’s upper crust held their business lunches here. It was always a good place to point out how they behaved and see how her apprentice showed up without coaching so she knew how much work she had left to do.

  Some of the other groups waiting for tables—she’d been told at least forty-five minutes, and these men who were supposedly on their lunch hour were mingling and waiting anyway—were glancing at them and frowning as they muttered to each other.

  Maybe she should have at least warned him what kind of a place this was. Those jeans were horrible. It was a good thing there wasn’t a dress code. But this was what she’d needed to see.

  She forced her smile to remain pleasant. “They put my name on their list. I guess we have a little while to wait still.”

  Scott looked her over, dark eyes lingering on her face for a moment. The corner of his mouth pulled up. “Your hair still looks better down.”

  He turned away before she could reply, which was fine with her. It gave her a chance to hide the flush on her cheeks. She hadn’t left it down for him. She just hadn’t had time to pull it back that morning. She tucked a strand behind her ear and suppressed a growl when she realized he was making his way to the hostess’ podium.

  “Scott.” She tried to keep her voice low, but threatening. “What are you doing?”

  He glanced at her. “You really should have called ahead.” He turned back to the brunette, who was studying her nails. “Becca, how’s my favorite girl?” His greeting carried through the lobby, drawing more than a few nearby glances.

  Kenzie resisted the urge to find a plant to hide behind. What was he doing?

  “Hey, hon.” Becca’s demeanor shifted in an instant when she saw him. Her shoulders straightened, and she stopped leaning on the nearby wall. “Haven’t seen you in a while. You look good.”

  Kenzie pursed her lips and watched the exchange in silence, realization dawning on her. He knew the woman, but how?

  “You know how it goes.” Scott leaned in on his arm and rested his weight on the podium. “My boss is an asshole slave driver.”

  Bec
ca giggled—actually tittered and covered her mouth with her fingertips while Kenzie bit back a gag—and grabbed two menus from their hiding spot. “Your table is ready if you are.”

  “Always.” Scott’s smile was warm and genuine.

  Amazement tempered Kenzie’s inappropriate memories as she followed them through the crowded restaurant. He nodded, waved, or smiled at half the staff. Not only had he been there before, but he was on friendly terms with almost everyone. He was a little loud and under-dressed, but he seemed friendly enough. She still didn’t understand why his board was complaining.

  Their table was near the back, away from most of the din. Before taking his own seat, Scott held out her chair for her and scooted it in while she sat. She tried and failed to ignore the warmth in her chest at how flawlessly he’d done it.

  Their waitress was with them within seconds, filling their water and setting a bread basket on the table.

  “Tanya. New haircut? It looks good.” Scott’s voice was distinct, even in the chatter-filled room, drawing more glowers from around them.

  That kind of attention was bad, and it pushed away some of the lingering lust. Kenzie didn’t know if she should shush him or sink farther in her seat.

  “Thanks.” The redhead fluffed the short bob. “Got tired of the baby wrapping sticky fingers in it.”

  “At least she’s outgrown the spitting up, right?” Scott asked.

  “Totally.” Tanya pulled a pad and pen from her apron pocket. “Getting milk puke out of these black button-downs is murder.”

  Someone nearby coughed, and voices died down, the entire section growing quiet. Kenzie grimaced at the mental image invoked by the conversation and the attention they were drawing.

  “I’m going to take your word for it.” Scott didn’t look fazed. “Is the special any good?”

  “Fresh prosciutto-wrapped chicken with roasted cauliflower. Dessert’s a surprise.”