His Curvy Gift

by Erin Havoc

  05

  * * *

  HAILEE

  This is my second fake-date with my boss.

  Due to the less-than-amusing experience last time with a five-star restaurant that served a piece of salmon smaller than my palm — and I have small hands —, Mister Hunt let me choose the place this time.

  One has to play for one’s strengths. Looking at Mister Hunt, his sharp jaw and elegant angles and expensive suits, I was sure he had never gone bowling in his life.

  I was wrong.

  He’s beating the hell out of me.

  Another strike, and I groan as he waltzes back to me, grinning that perfect set of teeth.

  “What?” He offers, plopping down beside me. He has abandoned his suit jacket, and rolled his sleeves to his elbows. None of my wildest dreams prepared me for the strong biceps marked by the shirt, neither by how amazing his butt looked when he turned away from me. “You’re the one who didn’t mind to ask if I had ever gone bowling.”

  “You don’t look like someone who does that,” I groan, getting up to pick a ball. “That’s not fair!”

  He laughs, and he’s so easy it’s unbelievable. “So you think just because I’m usually in a suit, I don’t do bowling. I’m amazed.”

  “Don’t make fun of me,” I stick my tongue out at him and go for my throw. I do not nail a strike, and grunt in desperation. “This is not fair!”

  My complaint makes him laugh out loud as I walk back. He picks a couple of fries from the bucket we ordered and pats me on the back as I sit next to him.

  “It’s your own fault for misreading me. Let that be a lesson. Never underestimate your enemies.”

  He offers me the fries, which I accept. “Isn’t this considered fraternizing with the enemy?”

  He munches on it for a moment before grinning. “I don’t need to go that low and develop traps. I’ll win by sheer skill.”

  I lift an arm to punch him on the shoulder but he ducks and stands up, sprinting for his next throw. Laughter trails behind him as I let my gaze run down his back.

  We’re having so much fun I even forget this is not a real date. That we’re not real friends, giving it a go at a relationship. We laugh so much, and it’s so easy to just talk to him I’m afraid of what comes next.

  Even if we’re sharing fries and laughing, and even if my gaze is lingering too long on his broad shoulder and defined thighs, he’s still my boss. He’s still paying me to be here.

  This is not real. And I can’t let my heart think it is, not even for a moment.

  Because as he nails another strike and struts back to me, a smirk across his face, I feel my heartstrings pulling, pulling. As he sits next to me and touches my arm, I feel my blood fizzing.

  “Don’t be sad.” He tilts his head in mock regret. “I can miss the next one if it’ll make you feel better about your lousy choice of date.”

  I gasp, more because of the heat his fingers send up my skin than of real shock. “Never! I would never accept such a win. I’d rather keep my dignity.”

  He nods slowly. “Very well. Then I will give my all to honor your dignity even in terrible defeat.”

  We grin at one another after I finally land that punch to his shoulder. I regret my decision as soon as my knuckles sting with how hard his arm is.

  “Gee,” I cradle my hand. “You do work out.”

  He cocks a brow in a smirk. “Why, thank you. You’re not that sore of a loser to be complimenting your opponent’s body.”

  “I’m not a sore loser, and I still have eyes. And a sensitive knuckles now.”

  He chuckles but it’s softer now. His hands drop over mine, and he runs his thumb over my knuckles. “Sorry,” he breathes.

  “I’m the one who decided to punch you. I should feel sorry.”

  What was supposed to be a tease dies on my lips as I meet his eyes. His are so stark blue I can clearly see the color even in this dim light. His fingers on me send shivers down my spine, straight to my core.

  Heat pools low on me.

  I’ve never been an extremely sexual girl. Of course, I like orgasms, they’re one of my favorite things. But I’ve never had a line of men waiting to date me, so I got used to the dry spells.

  What this man makes me feel is completely new. The heat pooling low in my belly, the curling of toes as his fingers press over my skin. They give me goosebumps and make me wonder.

  Wonder about his lips on me, and his fingers everywhere. Wonder about his hot breath on my neck and his strong grip on my hair.

  My nails raking down the abs I know he has, and my fingers curling around his strong bicep.

  I feel my cheeks warming up but I can’t pull my gaze away. Not with how hard he is looking at me.

  This is not a date. This is not a real date. We’re here because we have to know more about each other so we can fool his parents. There are no real feelings involved, and there cannot be.

  He is my boss.

  I swallow, “Would you like more fries, Mister Hunt?”

  His features ease and relax, but his hands don’t draw away from mine. “Surely you can call me Asher.” He takes a heartbeat but goes on, “My parents would find it odd if you called me Mister Hunt.”

  See?, I tell myself. He’s only worried about convincing his parents. I’m the one who’s overthinking.

  Who’s over-feeling.

  Shaking my head an inch, I finally pull my gaze away. I try to put a teasing smile on my face, and I try to summon that Hailee that’s honest and forward. The Hailee with whom he trusted not to fall in love with him. But it’s impossible.

  It’s impossible because my heart is beating so erratically I’m sure I’ve already screwed this up. I’m already feeling too much.

  “Would you like more fries, Asher?”

  Electricity is arcing between us. It crackles hard, and every other sound around us dies out. The look he’s giving me is odd and I watch his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows.

  “Sure,” he says, in a strangled voice.

  And I don’t want to think too much about what his strangled voice means. I can’t let myself do that.

  But there’s a small hope in my heart. Maybe my trusted instincts. And they’re telling me this man might be feeling for me the same I’m feeling for him.

  So I get up and use the time it takes to reach the counter to pull my big girl panties on. Because this can’t go any further.

  It doesn’t matter how my body reacts when he’s touching me. It doesn’t matter how hot I feel near him. It doesn’t matter how easy it is to talk to him the whole night.

  He’s still older, richer and my boss. He’s still paying my bills, and he has made it very clear — he’s not interested in feelings. And certainly not with me.

  06

  * * *

  ASHER

  I may have made a huge mistake.

  A little more than a week ago, I blurted out to my mother that I had a girlfriend. I lied, and told her I’d bring the inexistent woman to the family dinner. At that very moment, Hailee, my most capable employee, knocked on my door to our meeting.

  So I told my mother my girlfriend was called Hailee, and I asked Hailee to pretend we were dating. To myself, I thought this would go smoothly. Hailee was professional and rational, and we actually worked together well, so I had no qualms about her tipping my mother off and ruining the whole thing.

  Also, she’s extremely reliable so I was sure she would never use that to her advantage. She wouldn’t blackmail me or try to get more than I promised her.

  The problem is — because she is professional, rational, and we work together well… Because she’s extremely reliable… I may be confusing things.

  Which is odd. My head is always in the business. I’ve dated, yes, but they never got too serious. I don’t do feelings. And I’m certainly too old for misunderstandings and love games.

  Then why the hell do I suddenly want her?

  She is a gorgeous, voluptuous woman and no man can deny t
hat. She has curves for days and a sense of humor that always fits me just right.

  But that was all in the beginning. I watched her swaying those round hips around the office, and she’d come to meetings and we’d laugh of something then go back to business.

  In the end, it backfired.

  Because I’ve touched her soft skin, and I’ve smelled her sweet fragrance. Her smell lingers to my suit jacket and it makes me so unbelievably hard.

  I’m approaching forty and this is the very first time I’ve ever gotten hard with a freaking smell. I catch myself daydreaming about pressing my face against her neck, between her ample breasts, and taking in that smell.

  A crazy case of lust, one would say. But I started this stupid, teenager thing of calling her in the office to tell her things I could email her about. Just because I want to see her. Just because I can’t spend more than an hour without seeing her smile.

  And the fact she’s smiling at me, or because of me? It makes my heart beat out of rhythm.

  From pretending I’m dating her to actually wanting this woman in a week. I must be out of my mind.

  But that’s not the mistake. No, even if I would hesitate to date an employee. Even more when it’s one that’s so skilled like Hailee… I can’t lose her expertise and her instincts if the relationship goes wrong and we break up. But what I’m feeling for her is so out of the ordinary for me, I don’t care. I wouldn’t hesitate.

  I’d just put my hands and my mouth on her and take her, and mark her as mine. Because I started to feel we have been put in this world exactly for this — for one another.

  My big mistake was being an asshole and telling her I don’t do dating.

  I warned her off. And now that I’m feeling so much for her, how could I ask her otherwise? How could I try anything if I’ve already rejected any possibility?

  I shot myself in the foot. I obliterated my own chances even before they arose.

  Serves me right. I’m thirty-five and my first heartbreak is my own fault.

  Knuckles rap at my door. I eye the clock on the computer screen. It’s six sharp — Hailee has always been punctual.

  “Come on in,” I call in the very best professional voice I can manage. Even if my cock is rock-hard under the desk as I turn my computer off.

  Hailee walks in, already out of her work clothes, as I had asked her. Since I’ve warned her about wearing comfortable clothes, she’s changed into jeans that hug her perfect curves and sneakers. A black shirt with a leather jacket over her shoulders, and she’s the picture of every hot dream I have ever had, smashed into one.

  “Hey,” she waves her fingers in a greeting, opening that bright smile I have come to love. “I’m ready whenever you are.”

  By this time of the day, the office is empty and I take my time to change into more casual clothes too. Jeans and a button-down shirt that marks the muscles of my chest and arms. Even if I believe I’ve already screwed my chances, one can’t blame a man for trying. I know I’m ripped — I work out religiously to keep a fit body — and I want to use that in my favor. I’d use anything to make Hailee give me a chance.

  And my plan for tonight takes that into consideration.

  I take the lead down to the garage floor, and put a hand on her lower back to guide her to the car I’ve rented this morning — a pickup truck, especially chosen for the occasion.

  Hailee quirks a brow. “Are we in the right car?”

  Smirking, I quirk a brow back. “Do you really think I’d get it wrong? I’m the one who rented it.”

  She shrugs, “Maybe you have so many cars you forget which ones belong to you.”

  I laugh, shaking my head as I unlock the car. “Don’t worry, I’m not stealing. Not this one at least.”

  She curls her nose, making a face. Hailee pulls a side of the pickup cover up and squints to see what I have put there. But it’s all packed up so she can’t distinguish anything. Dropping the subject, she opens the passenger door and sits inside.

  Sitting beside her, I turn the engine on and prepare to leave. She’s looking around us, her eyes still narrowed.

  I grin, “Don’t worry. I don’t plan on kidnapping you.”

  “It wouldn’t be very smart doing that in your company, would it?” She smiles back, putting her hair behind her ear. “No, I’m just trying to guess what you have planned.”

  Pressing my lips together, I hold back the smirk. I know she’s going to like it, but I don’t want to give it away just yet. Tilting my chin to the radio, I clear my throat. “It’s a long drive. Why don’t you put some music on?”

  She does, and even if she’s into the more popular songs — something I don’t usually listen to —, it’s the most amusing thing to listen to her singing along. She’s out of tune and out of rhythm and sometimes out of breath, but I laugh and laugh as she rolls down her window and sings from the top of her lungs to the road and the pastures we pass.

  We drive for an hour or so, away from the city and into the countryside, and I love how good it feels to just be around her. Her presence is so easy, so comfortable. She laughs and she comments on the simplest things. She tells me stories and I tell her some of mine, and there’s this lingering feeling of wanting more.

  Of wanting everything with her.

  Finally, I leave the highway to a side road and from that to a dirt road where we have to roll our windows up so we won’t choke in the dust. Night has fallen and the only light around us comes from the headlights.

  We near a gate and the farm keeper opens it after I honk twice. He greets me as I pass him, ignoring the road to the main house further beyond and driving into the field until there’s no light around us.

  Then we stop. Hailee’s biting her lower lip, wide eyes as she tries to keep a smile at bay.

  “You’re killing me,” she murmurs. “Where are we?”

  I turn to her, stray hairs falling over her cheeks after the quaking of the car on the battered road. I reach out and push them out of her face. She catches her breath, and I let my digits brush over her skin lightly.

  “This farm is mine. But I hardly ever come here. Thought we could use it for something different tonight.”

  Her eyes glinting like a kid’s on Christmas Eve, she opens her door and slides out of the car. I follow her.

  The field is empty, all the cows having been taken to the cowshed with the sunset. The silence almost deafens me, though there’s still the rustle of leaves and the chirping sound of crickets. The only light comes from the car and I use it to undo the pickup cover.

  Hailee is turning around herself, squinting to see into the distance with a smile on her face. As soon as I have the pickup back freed, she turns to look into it.

  I’ve brought a couple of duvets and pillows and Neil was kind enough to prepare a thermal bag with food and drinks for us.

  My plan is, of course, stargazing.

  Hailee looks up at me and her eyes are so bright I’m pretty sure I could see them in the dark.

  “Asher,” she gasps. “This is amazing!”

  I hold the You’re amazing behind my teeth and just smile as I adjust the things on the back of the car so we can hop up. There’s a lantern in here, so I turn it on and turn the car engine off.

  Hailee kicks her sneakers off and abandons them by the passenger seat. I help her up the truck and we stretch over the duvet, switching the lantern off.

  Her arm pressed against mine, I can only savor the warmth it sends across my body. The night is silent and I can focus on the sound of her breathing. I’m close enough to smell her fragrance, and I’m glad it’s too dark for her to notice the steel rod in my pants.

  When I turn to look at her, she’s still grinning, her big eyes running from one side of the dark stretch of the sky above us to the other.

  A chuckle escapes me, catching her attention. “You seem to be enjoying this way more than I expected.”

  She giggles. “True. I must be looking so silly. It’s just that…” She waves dismissi
vely, breaking eye contact. “No one’s ever done anything like this for me. It’s something out of the movies.”

  “What do you mean by ‘anything like this’?”

  “Anything… Romantic.” She doesn’t look my way and I know she’s blushing by how weak her voice has grown. “I mean, I know it’s not a real date. I know it’s supposed to be just something I can tell your parents about.” She motions around herself, pretending to be talking to someone else. “‘Oh, there was this time Asher took me stargazing, it was so sweet!’”

  “Do you think it’s sweet?”

  “Of course. Who wouldn’t? Maybe it’s something you always do to the girls you go out with. But my exes didn’t mind even bringing me flowers.”

  I turn to face her in the dark. “You are kidding me. They didn’t give you flowers?”

  Mental note: buy this woman a freaking flower shop worth of roses tomorrow.

  She shakes her head. “Nope. Never got a flower my whole life. No romantic outings. No stargazing, for sure. Up until today, at least.” She sighs, “And it’s a fake date. What a pity.” Her voice has grown so low I almost miss her last words.

  I contemplate telling her. Pouring my heart out to her. How I’ve been feeling and how I fear I might have ruined my chances with the most amazing woman I’ve ever met.

  My throat dries up with how bad I want to taste her. My fingers tingle with how much I want to touch her.

  But she has all the reasons to believe I’d be lying. Although I’ve told her I’m an honest person, she has no reason to believe me. This whole date is a big, intricate lie. And I’ve told her I don’t do feelings. It would be a stretch to believe I changed my mind in a week.

  So I turn back up to the stars, and let Hailee’s warmth and laughter cover me like a blanket. I let myself savor that bubble in time, ignoring the tug in my heart.

  Because even if I want this woman to love me back, I made sure she won’t, and the pain that comes from this is mine and my only to deal with.