Seducing the Boss Lady

by Cooper, Sharon C.

“Are you sure this is the way you want to spend your last night of freedom?” Zack asked Luke.

  Michael hadn’t seen Zack in a couple of years, except for on television commentating football games for ESPN. They used to hang out whenever Zack wasn’t playing and was in New York. Since marrying Jada, he spent most of his time with his wife.

  “Yep, what better way to spend my last day of bachelorhood than with my boys?”

  “I could think of a few different ways,” Michael said pointedly, eliciting chuckles from Zack, Craig - Toni’s husband, and Jerry, Christina and Peyton’s brother.

  “If you’re talking about a strip club, that’s probably not the best idea since we have a youngin in the group.” Luke nudged Jerry.

  Jerry grunted. “I’ll have you know that I am plenty old enough to watch some sexy, naked woman shake what her momma gave her.”

  “Speaking of clubs, I heard the girls are planning on hitting up a night club a few miles from here,” Luke said.

  “Yes, against my better judgment,” Craig grumbled. “I told Toni I didn’t think them leaving the resort alone was a good idea.”

  Zack grunted. “I’m sure that went over well.”

  “Yeah, about as well as you would expect.”

  “Hold up, wait. You guys are letting them go to a club by themselves?” Michael asked. Peyton hadn’t mentioned they were leaving the resort.

  All the men in the room cast odd looks at him. “What?”

  “You clearly haven’t had enough experience with a Jenkins’ girl.” Zack shook his head.

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  “It means you don’t tell them what they can or can’t do. You just listen and respond, ‘yes, dear.’” Luke chuckled. “I learned that lesson the hard way.”

  They all laughed at what must have been some inside joke.

  “Well, I’m out of here.” Michael tossed his cards on the table. “No way am I letting Peyton go to some club…” his voice trailed off when he caught what he had just said. His gaze collided with Luke’s amused one.

  Oh damn. Days of playing house and he sounded like a possessive asshole.

  Michael dropped back down in his seat and picked up his cards. “Whose deal is it?”

  The room erupted in laughter at his expense. He deserved it. He would never be able to deny that he was the jealous type, but for a moment there, he had forgotten that Peyton wasn’t his.

  “Tell him what happens, Craig, when you go all He-man on a Jenkins’ girl,” Jerry cracked, and the others chuckled.

  Craig scowled, grumbling something under his breath while the others ragged him.

  “So what lesson did Craig learn?” Michael wanted to know.

  “A lesson we've all learned at one time or another with our women,” Zack said.

  Michael was more curious than ever now. Based on their behavior at the rehearsal dinner, the girls were definitely a lively bunch.

  Craig shook his head, acting as if this were the last thing he wanted to talk about. “Let's just say, they do whatever the hell they want. The more you protest, the more likely they are to do something crazy.”

  “Like go out with a stranger, end up in a drug house, and then get arrested with their face plastered all over the television because of an unexpected drug raid,” Jerry added.

  “What?” Michael sat stunned. “Okay, you can’t just leave me with that.”

  Jerry filled Michael in on the night that took place while Toni and Craig were dating. “It’s a good thing Craig is a cop. Well, a police detective now,” Jerry said. “Otherwise, Toni might still be behind bars.”

  “Man, stop. It wasn’t that bad. My baby just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time.” Craig stood and grabbed a few beers from a cooler on a nearby table. They had ordered a few bottles as well as snacks to get them through the evening.

  Michael listened to one story after another from Luke, Zack, Craig, and Jerry about Christina and the other Jenkins women. When he asked whether or not Peyton ever got into trouble, they all agreed that she was the sane one of the group, the voice of reason.

  “Although lately my sister has been trippin’,” Jerry started while dealing the cards. “She even tried firing me a few months ago. She's been acting like a real bit—”

  “Be careful, man.” The words left Michael’s mouth before he could stop them. A spike of irritation coursed through his veins. Peyton might have been a few things, like highly reactive, standoffish, with a smart mouth, but he wouldn't sit back and let anyone, not even her brother, disrespect her by calling her names.

  “Oh, my bad.” Jerry lifted his hands, palms out. “I didn't know you and my sister were like that.”

  “We're just friends,” Michael hurried to say, kicking himself for acting like he and Peyton were more than acquaintances.

  “You have to forgive my friend here, Jerry,” Luke said, gripping Michael’s shoulder and giving it a slight squeeze. “He's always been quick to come to the defense of a damsel in distress.”

  Flashbacks flared inside of Michael’s head. A time when he almost lost his life, in more ways than one. Feeling Luke’s hand on his shoulder reminded him of his friend’s help during one of the darkest times in his life.

  “You alright?” Luke shook him, and Michael shrugged Luke’s hand off his shoulder.

  “Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.” He glanced at his cards, suddenly not in the mood for poker. At the moment, thoughts of Peyton were screwing with his mind. He dropped the cards on the table and stood. “Listen, I’m going to get some air.”

  He headed to the door, feeling everyone’s gaze on his back.

  “Mike,” Luke called out, and Michael glanced over his shoulder. “If you decide to head to the club, let me know. I’ll go with you.”

  “We’ll all go with you,” Craig added.

  Michael chuckled and shook his head. He had a feeling they were hoping he’d go in search of Peyton. That would give them all an excuse to go and find their women without any backlash.

  “I’ll be in the lobby in thirty minutes.” Michael strolled out of the room thinking he must be crazy going in search of a woman who had more rules than Leroy Jethro Gibbs on NCIS. Still, he looked forward to seeing her.

  *

  Peyton staggered off the dance floor wiping her forehead with the back of her hand. Between the heat, high-tech lights, and the club’s sound system, the slight headache she’d had earlier had bloomed into a steady thump inside of her skull. But she wasn’t going to complain. She needed the night out.

  She moved between a few tables to get to hers. The club certainly catered to the tourists, though there were a few locals in the mix. Peyton knew now why all of the resorts were booked up. Spring break was in full effect. The majority of the crowd was under twenty-five.

  “Girl, you’re rockin’ that dress,” Jada said when Peyton made it back to their table.

  “Thanks.” She felt beautiful in the white, crystal embellished dress that she had picked up during Jada’s mandatory shopping trip. Based on the attention Peyton was getting from the men, the dress had been a good choice even if she was overdressed compared to the college kids.

  At first, she had balked at buying clothes, but Jada had been right. She insisted it was time Peyton started a new chapter in her life. A chapter that would give her permission to leave the past in the past and enjoy life again. That’s exactly what she planned to do. The purchase of the short, chiffon dress, represented the start of a new chapter in the book of Peyton.

  Over the last few months, she had been thinking more about finding love, getting married and having a family. No easy feat when she kept a barrier around her heart and rarely dated. Trusting again was proving to be hard thanks to Dylan. But tonight, tonight she wasn’t thinking about cheating husbands, her lonely life, or Michael. The latter was easier said than done.

  Peyton chugged the last of the apple martini. With her parched throat, she wanted another one.

  She lifted he
r glass. “Need more.”

  “PJ, don’t you think you’ve had enough?” Toni asked from across the table. “That’s your fourth drink.”

  “IsitIlostcount!” Peyton’s indiscernible words tumbled from her mouth. “Gooood I’m not drivin’.” She stood, but Christina yanked her back down in her seat.

  “Maybe you should sit here for a while. Between drinking and dancing, I think you can use a break.”

  “She's right PJ. You've had enough,” Toni added. “And what the heck was that on the dance floor? That last guy was all over you.”

  “And I can’t believe you’ve been able to keep the beat since you’re drunk,” Jada added. “God only knows how many toes you’ve stepped on out there.”

  “I’m not drunk. Tipsy maybe. Not drunk,” Peyton slurred.” She sipped from the water Toni placed in front of her. The cool liquid felt good going down and felt even better when she placed the glass against her forehead. “Jada, go fix their air conditioner. It’s a thousand degrees in here.”

  Jada had been a sheet metal worker before she married Zack. Her cousin hated the dirty work, but liked the pay and was good at her job when she wasn’t complaining about the work.

  “You have lost your mind. Me,” Jada plopped a hand on her hip, “manual labor? In this?” She pointed to her body-hugging, strapless red dress. “Yeah, right! That’s not gonna happen.”

  “PJ, it’s warm, but it’s not that hot. You’re probably feeling the effects of the alcohol and the crowded dance floor,” Toni said and poured Peyton another glass of water from the pitcher she had requested earlier.”

  “So does this,” Jada waved her hand up and down at Peyton, “drunken stupor have anything to do with that cutie-pie private investigator you’re knocking boots with?”

  “I’m not drunk,” Peyton slurred again, “and the P.I. and me – friends. Just friends.” The words felt bitter on her tongue and sounded gloomy to her ears. She liked Michael – a lot, but nothing could ever come of the crush, she’d develop. Soon they would be going their separate ways.

  “I knew it,” Christina yelled over the music, which seemed to be getting louder. “You do want to be more than friends with him don’t you? Does that mean you two haven’t…”

  “You guys have to be the nosiest people in the world. Mind your own business, especially you.” She pointed at Christina. Had she not played games with the room reservation, Peyton wouldn’t be sitting there drowning her sorrows because the “cutie-pie” was treating her like his little sister. Well, maybe not his little sister. Big brothers didn’t look at their sisters the way Michael had stared at her during dinner. Or the way he ogled her when he saw her in the white dress tonight. Most importantly, a big brother wouldn’t have kissed her the way he had the other day.

  Peyton groaned. There she was thinking about him again. She stood abruptly, regretting the quick move and grabbed hold of the chair. Okay, maybe she was a little more than tipsy. One more drink and then she would call it quits. Then again, maybe she wouldn’t stop drinking until she could wipe Michael from her mind.

  “I’ll be back.”

  She ignored their protests and kept walking, staggering a little until a college kid stepped in front of her.

  “Would you like to dance?” he asked, his deep voice easily rising above the loud bass filling the space.

  Most of the people in the building were under twenty-five, but this guy looked to be older. Nice looking with a tall, muscular build and broad shoulders. Probably a football player.

  “Sure, why not,” Peyton finally responded. Maybe dancing with a hot guy would help her forget her good-looking, arrogant ass roommate.

  Chapter Seven

  Frustration rattled through Michael as he roamed around the nightclub. This was the second club they had stopped by and he was glad it was inside of a hotel. The last one, in a rundown building, had all of his senses on high alert when they walked in. After thoroughly checking the place, and not finding the girls, he asked around and determined there was a more popular club where many of the tourists frequented.

  Michael glanced around the crowded space, barely able to hear himself think with the music blasting. Where was she and why wasn’t she sticking close to the others? Toni told him that Peyton had been on the dance floor for the last fifteen minutes. In a sea of floral attire, he should have been able to spot her in that white, skimpy dress that had taunted him earlier.

  “Wanna dance?”

  Michael gazed down at the little girl who had pink and green hair, a nose ring, and a fitted dress that appeared three sizes too small. She didn’t look old enough to go outside by herself, let alone be partying in a club.

  “No thanks.” He kept moving. Women, or in this case, little girls. He wished he would catch his daughter, Michaela, approaching a man about dancing. He would wring her neck. Granted, since she was five, he had many years before he had to worry about something like that, but it didn’t sit well with him that women approached men instead of the other way around. Another thing he needed to teach his daughter.

  Michael slowed. No Peyton. No way would the girls let her leave the place by herself. She had to be there still. Unease crept through his body. What if something had happened to her?

  Michael stalked toward the hallway that led to the restrooms but halted in his tracks.

  “What the…”

  Shock stirred inside of his gut. And a burst of annoyance propelled him toward Peyton, hugged up with some guy on the edge of the dance floor. Beefy hands gripped her butt and anger plowed through Michael’s body like a recently launched rocket soaring through the atmosphere.

  His mind took him back to a time that he’d tried like hell to forget. A time when rage high-jacked his body, and his fists had reacted before getting his brain in gear. A time when bones cracked and blood gushed uncontrollably. A time when his whole world fell apart because he reacted before thinking.

  Remembering that nightmare did nothing to slow his pace or his desire to yank the man’s arms out of their sockets.

  “Get off me!” Michael heard Peyton ground out as she pushed the guy back just as Michael approached from behind her. “I told you, I’m done dancing. Now go!”

  Michael slowed, fists balled at his sides.

  She’s fine. She’s fine. Relax. She’s fine.

  The words looped through his mind, his heart still thumping as if it would beat right out of his chest.

  Peyton’s dance partner’s gaze met Michael’s angry one, and the guy lifted his hands out in front of him. “Sorry.” His terrified eyes darted from Michael to Peyton and back to Michael. “I didn’t…I mean… Sorry.” He quickly turned and scurried away.

  Relax. She’s fine. She can take care of herself.

  The words continued to play inside of Michael’s head.

  Peyton mumbled under her breath as she smoothed down the back of her dress. She turned around and froze.

  “Michael.” The word came out breathy. A light sheen of perspiration covered her face and neck, but what snagged his attention were her eyes. Red. She patted her forehead with the back of her hand and then did the same to the front of her neck. She wiped her hands down her sides despite wearing a white dress. “Wh…What you doin’ here?”

  Before Michael opened his mouth to speak, the DJ slowed things down, playing a slower reggae song.

  “Dance with me,” he said and pulled Peyton toward the middle of the dance floor without giving her a chance to say yay or nay. He eased her against his body and placed a lingering kiss on her sweaty cheek before he started moving to the beat of the music. She remained silent, no protests about his forwardness or that he was touching her.

  Halfway through the song, Michael winced when she stepped on his foot. When she did it again a few minutes later, he loosened his grip and leaned back, forcing her to meet his gaze.

  “Sooorry,” she said before he could ask if she was okay. “Your feet shouldn’t be so big.”

  He chuckled at her slurred
words. “You’re drunk.” He tightened his arms around her slim waist. “Just how much have you had to drink?”

  “Didn’t count.”

  The huskiness of her voice descended on him like a lover’s caress, and he held her closer as they rocked to Never Find, a jazzy, reggae number by Jah Cure. Michael had heard the song before, but a few of the lyrics stuck out, especially the part – I’ll never hurt you. Despite what he was starting to feel for Peyton, nothing could happen between them. It didn’t matter that she had somehow pried open a portion of his heart that had been closed for as long as he could remember.

  Michael nuzzled her neck, inhaling her familiar scent that was mixed with sweat. She felt good in his arms, a little too good. With each sway of her hips, his shaft throbbed, her sexy body rubbing against his. Dancing seemed like a nice idea at first, but now he wasn’t sure.

  Peyton seemed to move closer to him, if that were possible, their bodies practically one. Michael’s hands started on her back but moved lower to grip her curvaceous hips. He knew he agreed to keep his hands to himself, but he couldn’t.

  Damn, she felt good.

  “Glad you’re here,” Peyton mumbled. Her steps slowed, and she placed tiny kisses on his chest where his shirt was opened.

  Their gazes met. An invisible force drew their mouths to each other. When Peyton’s lips parted, Michael used that as an invitation to dive in. He tasted the liquor on her tongue as their mouths mated. Licking. Sucking. Kissing her felt natural. Perfect.

  Everything faded to the background. Their tongues continued to tangle. Michael squeezed her firm ass, and a blast of desire shot straight to his shaft. No doubt she felt his erection pressed against her belly. God, he wanted her, but if he didn’t put some space between them soon, she was going to feel a lot more.

  Just then, she moaned, her hips moving, even more, grinding against him and Michael was a goner.

  He pulled his lips from hers. “Let’s get out of here.”

  Thirty minutes later, they were back at the suite. Michael cursed Luke and Christina for setting him up. He was a strong man, but he didn’t know if he was strong enough to keep turning down Peyton’s advances.