Embarrassment fused with the anger already consuming her sensible side. He'd been watching her samba around her office in her briefs for God knows how long. And very skimpy briefs at that. She wanted to crawl under the desk and die, but first she'd like nothing better than to choke him.
"I never really liked that song,” he said as he pushed away from the desk, shortening the distance between them. “But thanks to you, I'll never be able to listen to it the same way again,” he quipped.
No. Choking was too good for him. He deserved to be thrashed within an inch of his measly life.
"Get out!"
"Ah, deja vu, Syd.” Trevor quirked a brow. “You told me to get out two days ago. But, I'm still here.” He lifted a curl off her shoulder and twisted it around his finger.
Instinctively, she took a step back, but he held fast. “Don't remind me,” she said. “I hate it when I make mistakes."
He wound more of the curl around his finger, pulling her closer and shortening the distance between them once again. Only inches of invisible air and a Jeannie bottle stood between them.
"Mistake? Is that what this is, Syd?” With his free hand he covered hers holding onto the bottle for dear life. “A mistake?"
"Yes...” she stuttered. “You know damn well it is."
"No.” He slowly shook his head. “Letting you go the first time was the mistake.” He eased the bottle from her grasp and set it on the desk. Before she could protest, his hand cupped her shoulder and squeezed ever so lightly. “Perfect. Just like I remember.” His thumb drew tiny, tantalizing circles on her skin and sent her mind spinning with questions of should she or shouldn't she, and plain old-fashioned desire.
Her eyes fluttered closed and she inhaled the muskiness of his cologne mixed with his own, distinctively male scent.
Yeah. Sydnie wanted to throw caution to the wind, all right. She wanted to feel the brush of his day's growth of whiskers against the hollow of her throat, against her breasts, against the length of her tummy, and ... ?
Stop it, Riley. It was so stupid of her to indulge in her fantasy and try on the lingerie here. Just what the hell had she been thinking?
She wasn't. And now look where it got her. On the verge of melting in the arms of the man she was supposed to despise.
Remembering she was scantily clad, she scowled and shoved out of his grasp. She backed her way to the bathroom, not wanting to give Trevor the pleasure of seeing her bare bottom any more tonight. Grabbing her white, fuzzy robe off the hook on the door, she slipped it on and a semblance of security and strength surrounded her.
"So what are you doing here?” she managed to ask with censure as she stepped back into the office. “And how did you get in here? All the doors are locked. Did you break in?"
"I'm reporting in with the boss, like I was ordered to do. And for your information, I didn't break in. Terri gave me a key."
Super. Syd made a mental note to discuss with her business partners the possible pitfalls of handing out keys to the help prior to the end of the ninety-day probationary period.
He grinned wickedly and fingered the lapels of her robe. “I liked you better without this."
Sydnie swore she could almost feel the heat of his touch all the way through the terrycloth. Oh, boy. The cliche, in way over her head, exploded in her mind.
She needed to be strong, very strong. She brushed away his hands. “I meant, you're supposed to report in during business hours."
"I saw your car in the lot and knew you were still working, so that counts as business hours, doesn't it? How was I to know you'd be—"
"Don't go there.” She held up her hand. “I don't want to discuss what happened here tonight, ever again."
"All right. Your secret is safe with me.” He shrugged. “I got checks.” He pulled them out of his pocket and waved the slips of paper under her nose. “Sorry about the teeth marks on that one. I hope it'll go through the bank okay."
She eyed the torn check and for the first time noticed Trevor's jeans were ripped and his T-shirt had a good-sized tear on the right side of his chest as well. She saw the smooth tanned skin underneath and watched, mesmerized as his muscles flexed when he moved. Her breath caught. “What happened to you?"
"Come on, Syd. You don't have to ask that.” He tapped the tip of her nose with his index finger.
"Yes, I do. What are you getting at?"
"You know all about this little game we're playing."
"Game?"
"Yeah. Game.” Their gazes locked and held. He yanked on the tail of the belt of her robe. The garment fell open. He brushed the fabric off her shoulder, exposing her skin to the fever of his touch. Her heart pounded in a wild, almost primal, rhythm.
Trevor slipped a finger under the silky strap of her bra. With excruciating slowness, he slid his finger down the length of the strap, not stopping until he reached the swell of her breast. His touch hypnotized her in a way she never thought possible. It was almost as if he'd cast some sort of spell over her.
His gaze fell to her breasts. “That's quite a bra you've got there. Nice,” he drawled. “Something new?"
"Yes.” He brushed the robe off her other shoulder and it pooled at her feet.
Trevor's hands skated over her nipples, down her belly and to her hips, touching her skin just enough to leave an explosive fire trail in their wake.
With bewitching ease, his hands slipped under the thin band of her thong and cupped her hips. In one fluid motion, he pulled her hard up against him.
"Very nice,” he said huskily as his hands cupped her derriere. “It's amazing what they can do with lingerie these days."
"Yes,” she said with a breathy sigh. Sydnie's legs weakened and threatened to collapse at the feel of his hard thighs pressing against her. His fingers caressed her backside and sent a shiver of anticipation soaring to every erogenous zone in her body.
"Oh, Syd,” he whispered against her throat.
Oh, Trevor. Is this what dying and going to Heaven felt like?
She gripped his arms to steady herself and was awed by the rock-hard solidness she found. A tinge of sweat dampened his skin and the urge to tangle with Trevor with nothing but sweat between them, consumed her senses.
He caressed her mouth with the tip of his tongue and tugged at the corner of her lips with his teeth. The teasing blew her mind and made her body flare with a desire she'd thought long suppressed.
How wrong she'd been. How very wrong.
She slid her arms around his neck. Trevor captured her lips with his own and their deep, ravenous hunger for each other shifted the momentum from gentle play to urgent, got-to-have-it-now need.
Sydnie felt her feet leave the floor as Trevor lifted and set her on the edge of the desk. The wood was cool and smooth against her bare bottom. She wrapped her legs around his hips, cinching him up tight against her.
Her eagerness didn't go unrewarded. Trevor clenched and tugged at the strap of her bra, then pushed the satin off her shoulder and down her arm. His lips left hers to further explore the contours of her throat, then slowly he made his way to the top of her breast. Pushing aside the bra, he exposed her nipple to the moist heat of his mouth. Her breath caught. Lightning struck her core and she tunneled her fingers into his hair.
Demanding more, Trevor laid her down on the cluttered desk and a stack of paper whooshed to the floor. A container of pencils and pens spilled over onto the desk top, rolled and fell to the carpeting with a thud.
Sydnie arched her back and reveled in the feel of his hands working their mystical magic on her body.
Her fingers brushed over his smooth skin exposed by the hole in his T-shirt. She grabbed the frayed fabric and ripped his shirt all the way down to his belly button. It made her feel wild, naughty and powerful.
She pressed her lips to his chest and the spattering of hair there tickled her nose. With her tongue she drew circles around his nipple and the salty spiciness made her hungry for more exotic flavors.
"Syd,
” he whispered against her ear. “You're goin’ to be my undoing."
"Good,” she panted.
The sharp ring of a phone blasted in her ear, breaking the spell the soft music, the flickering candles and Stardust Lingerie had cast over them.
Sydnie groaned.
It rang a second time.
Trevor groaned.
Sydnie wanted to scream at the interruption. Why hadn't she thought to turn off the ringer? The phone rang a third time and Sydnie lifted the phone and glanced at the caller ID through a passion-interrupted haze.
Uh-oh. “We'll ... have to ... finish this ... discussion later,” she managed to say around Trevor's intoxicating kisses. She took a deep breath, desperate for oxygen. “I've got to take this call."
"Let the answering machine get it. You're busy,” he said, just before his tongue tickled the tiny spot behind her ear. He took the phone from her hand and dropped it back on the desk.
Oh, Lord. Sydnie wanted to cave in, tumble to the floor and let Trevor have his way with her, and she have her way with him, but her sensible side took hold. “No.” She shook her head and pressed her palms against his chest. “You don't understand. It's my dad. You don't just let the machine get it when he calls."
The answering machine clicked in with the after hour's message and beeped. “Syd. This is your father calling. What are you doing? Pick up the phone. I know you're there."
Shit. If her father knew what she was doing at this very moment, he'd split a gut.
"You're mother went by the office not more than ten minutes ago and saw your car. Now pick up."
"Look. I've got to take this.” With major effort she shoved Trevor away and quickly found out she didn't like the sudden loss of his warm body next to hers. “We'll finish this ... conversation later."
"Later? As in later this evening?"
"Sydnie! Answer the damn phone!” her dad bellowed.
"Ah, I don't know, Trevor.” She snatched her robe off the floor and slipped it on, knowing there was no way she could talk to her dad while wearing almost nothing. She jerked the receiver off its cradle and bonked her cheek with it. “Hello, Daddy."
"What was that noise?"
"Ah, nothing."
"What the hell took so long?"
"I'm sorry. I was in the bathroom,” she said with a slight tremble in her voice.
"Are you all right?"
"Sure. I'm fine."
"You don't sound fine. You sound winded."
"I ran to the phone."
"Huh. Maybe you ought to install a phone in the bathroom, too. You've got everything else in there."
"Sure. Whatever you say. Hold on a sec, dad, would ya?” She cupped the receiver. “Tomorrow,” she whispered to Trevor.
"What? You can't be serious?” Trevor mumbled. “You can't do this to me, Syd. It's criminal."
"Sorry.” She shrugged. “I'll see you tomorrow."
"Sydnie? What's going on? Is someone there with you?” her dad asked.
"No. I just turned down the stereo.” She plunked in her chair and spun around, hoping Trevor would get the hint and leave without getting madder than hell at her for brushing him off so easily.
Of course he deserved to. And she deserved to be madder than hell at herself for doing it.
* * * *
Terri jogged along the graveled park trail, her trusty friend and companion, Thomas O’ Malley, securely strapped in his kitty carrier on her back.
Dusk was fast approaching so Terri picked up the pace a notch, not wanting to be caught in the park after dark. Thomas loved to jog more then Terri did, and protested loudly by meowing for hours if she didn't take him out for their evening jaunt. Sitting at home with her feet up on the coffee table and a bowl of popcorn in her lap, like she'd planned after a long day at the office, was out of the question until Thomas got to go for his run.
Of course, he jogged via Terri's back, never setting a paw on the ground. No wonder he liked to go so much. He didn't have to exert himself, yet got his required amount of fresh air for the day, and a fine view of the geese fighting over breadcrumbs tossed out by park goers.
"Must be rough to be so spoiled,” Terri said between breaths as she made her way up a small incline. Thomas meowed in his typical smug response. “Yeah, buddy, let me tell, ya. It's time you did some spoilin’ back."
But as far as Terri was concerned, Thomas was worth his weight in Fancy Feast for not only the companionship he gave, but the security as well. While jogging, she never worried about someone coming up behind her unexpectedly. Thomas was always on guard and let her know with a vicious hiss when someone approached. Between Thomas and the can of pepper spray in her pocket, she felt reasonably safe.
And for a cat, he made a better watch dog for her apartment than a slobbering canine. His keen sense of alertness always told her when something was wrong, and he had a fetish for pouncing on anyone he thought didn't belong there. And that included the few-and-far-between boyfriends Terri had brought home. After one ambush by Thomas, they declared she had a psycho cat and left, scratched and bleeding, for the emergency room.
It always embarrassed and aggravated her that a cat had a say so in her choice of would-be lovers. But later, after she'd learned the guy had done time, or had a bad habit of driving off with cars that he didn't own, she was thankful her feline was smarter than she was when it came to men.
Terri stumbled and Thomas meowed his dissatisfaction. “Sorry, buddy. That damn shoelace is untied again.” She took a few more steps before stopping near a bench and knelt down to tie the lace.
"Listen, Charles. She has to be handled with kid gloves,” a deep voice said from behind a tall hedge of Bridal Veil bushes.
Terri's hands stilled, intrigued by the tone of the conversation drifting on the evening breeze.
"Look,” the voice continued. “I need more time. This isn't an easy thing to do."
Easy? What wasn't easy? She crouched lower behind the bushes and kept her fingers crossed Thomas didn't start to meow and give away their presence. He wasn't known for being patient when their jog came to an unexpected halt. He'd only sit still so long before he started to howl like a sick cow.
"Look. I told you. If we want to get anything out of her, I've got to go slow or else she'll figure out what's up."
Terri's pulse quickened. Did she, whoever she was, owe this guy money? Were they planning a heist of some kind?
And that voice. That voice sounded so familiar. But who...? She scanned her memory, but couldn't place it.
"I know. I know. Time is short. I've got to deliver,” the man said with a hard tone. “But if I'm not careful, she'll kick me out on my ass, and we'll be S-O-L."
Was he talking about a drug deal? She wished she could hear the other side of the conversation, then she'd know for sure. And she wished she could place that voice. It would bug her all night if she didn't find out who this mystery man was.
Totally caught up in this moment of intrigue, Terri pulled aside a branch and tried to see through the hedge, but it was impossible. The foliage was too thick, and the encroaching darkness made it tough to make out anything more than a man's bare leg. And a very muscular one at that.
"You've got to stall him,” the man continued. “I need more time to finish the job."
Finish the job? Murder?! She swallowed hard. Was she hearing the one-sided plot of a murder?
Visions of fearing for her life as she waited to testify at the murder trial filled her mind. She wrapped her fingers around her pepper spray. Yeah, right. As if a can of pepper spray is going to save me from a bullet with my name on it.
This was nonsense. Her imagination was getting carried away. It was probably some kind of legitimate business deal, or problem with a divorce.
She really needed to stop watching so many crime shows.
Convinced she wasn't in danger, she braved stealing a peek over the top of the hedge. The gravel shifted beneath her feet and she lost her balance, landing on her backside.
“Humph!"
Thomas screeched as if his tail were being sucked up by a vacuum cleaner.
"Sshhh!” she whispered, and yanked Thomas's carrier around to the front of her and stroked his furry head to keep him quiet.
The scuffle of a man's shoe sounded on the opposite side of the hedge. She froze. Her heart thumped in her throat. Her imagination took wing. What if the guy discovered her hiding in the shrubs and had to take her out, too?
James, Sherry - [Studs For Hire 01] Page 7
