Casual Affair (Slow Seductions)

by Melanie Munton

  She wagged a finger. “Sorry. For that, you’ll have to work a lot harder.”

  He’d expected her to tell him to go to hell. Maybe slap his face. But that had almost sounded like she was actually giving the idea some thought.

  Hell, yes.

  He lowered his voice. “Being a hard worker happens to be one of my best qualities.”

  One side of her mouth tipped up, and he felt his chest swell in victory. “Well, as fun as this has been, I really do have to get back to work.”

  “Until next time, then,” he promised.

  She looked up at him one final time. “Fair warning. I won’t change my mind.” Then she walked out of the room.

  “We’ll see, Ms. Paxton,” he said under his breath, staring at the empty doorway. “We’ll see.”

  Chapter Four

  She was so getting laid tonight.

  Bea scoped out the scene at Sapphire, repeating those words to herself. She didn’t yet know who she was going home with, but it was going to be someone, dammit. She hadn’t been with anyone in almost two whole months. And that had been mediocre at best.

  Her dry spell was both unfortunate and irritating. Not to mention the fact that it was being prolonged by a certain annoying male presence in her life.

  But her one rule for the night out with her sister and their friend Gwen was that his name not be spoken, uttered, or even whispered.

  Zane Price had thrown her life completely out of sync.

  It had been two months since they’d started the project with Envision. Two whole months since he had stomped into her life. Two long, frustrating, exasperating, agonizing months since her life had ceased being the laid-back, carefree one she used to live.

  BZ—before Zane—she’d thought she had men figured out. Hell, she’d thought she had herself figured out. Most guys were easy to read. She had learned over the years to pay attention and identify early on if a man didn’t have what she was looking for—whatever the hell that was. Most of them followed certain patterns. Predictable ones.

  But Zane Price was as unpredictable as a lightning strike.

  Working beside him for two months had been pure torture on her patience and self-control, not to mention her vibrator. Three battery changes in two months was pathetic.

  BZ, she could manage going on longer stretches without sex. After all, she wasn’t ready for anything serious with someone right now. Sure, she loved male companionship. She loved feeling wanted, being needed by the opposite sex. She’d even had a steady boyfriend every once in a great while.

  But she had rules when it came to relationships. And they were simple.

  No long-term commitments.

  No declarations or promises of any kind.

  And always, always keep your hands up and elbows in when protecting your feelings. Because you never knew when you might have to block a sucker punch to the heart.

  She had learned that particular lesson well.

  Then Zane Price had entered her life, and all of her rules had been kicked to the curb.

  Other than some heavy flirting, nothing more had happened between them in the last two months. Deliberately, of course.

  And it was killing her.

  Sure, she’d known how attracted she was to him from the moment they met. But she hadn’t counted on actually liking the man. And that freaked her out. Damn him and his ability to always make her laugh. His sense of humor could be on the raunchy side, but she secretly loved it. He was smart, rich, obviously gorgeous, and he was actually a nice person.

  But…

  She. Could. Not. Touch.

  Sure, she could get him on his back in two seconds flat if she wanted. He’d made it abundantly clear that he would do nothing to stop her. Encouraged her, even. But they worked together and her job was not done. Her rule of not getting involved with clients still stood.

  Damn her principles.

  But she wasn’t worrying about any of that tonight.

  For the past two months, she’d found herself comparing every man she encountered to Zane. And they’d always fallen short.

  Tonight, she was throwing all expectations out the window. Well…maybe not all. That was how diseases were contracted.

  “I’m going to the bathroom!” Gwen yelled to her and Felicity over the loud music.

  They had been friends with Gwen since college, and Bea loved her like a second sister. She had recently been having relationship problems, so the sisters were trying to cheer her up. By getting her drunk. Can’t hurt, right?

  “I have to go, too!” Felicity shouted back and trailed after their friend.

  Perfect timing.

  Bea needed another drink if she was going to stay motivated. Up to that point, every guy who had approached her was either already drunk off his ass, or was a Sperry-wearing transplant from Alpha Chi blah blah blah who was out for a night with his “bros.” Neither of which appealed to her.

  Which was why the tall, broad-shouldered man leaning against the bar, talking to the bartender, immediately caught her attention. She couldn’t see his face, but he had the best ass she’d seen all night, by far. Promising.

  Finally feeling a spark of life in her nether regions, she started to walk in his direction.

  And came to an abrupt halt.

  He had barely turned his body around, but it was enough to see his face.

  You have got to be kidding me.

  Zane. Freaking. Price.

  His eyes scoped the crowd, immediately stopping when they landed on her. She watched them widen a fraction before his entire face smoothed out, his mouth settling into a relaxed grin. Her stomach muscles clenched at how genuinely happy he looked to see her.

  “Well, well, well,” he mused after walking over to her. “This is certainly a surprise. Though it’s always nice to see you, Beatrice.”

  Sweet baby Jesus. He looked good in his dark jeans and black button-down shirt. Why couldn’t he have had a beer belly and a snaggletooth? It would have made things so much easier.

  “What have I told you about calling me that?” He thought it was hilarious calling her by her full name, simply because he knew she hated it.

  He grinned. “Pardon me. Bea.” His voice purred when he said her name like that. His gaze roamed over her body, pausing on her chest and bare legs before traveling back up to her face. “You look beautiful.”

  The lust she saw in his expression made her breath quicken. And threw her off for a second. “Thanks,” she muttered. “You’re not too bad yourself.”

  “I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

  The corner of her mouth twitched. “Yeah, well, don’t get used to it.”

  His grin faltered slightly as he quickly scanned the space around them before turning back to her. “Are you here alone?”

  Feeling devious, she shook her head. “No.” It wasn’t a lie.

  His jaw hardened and he gave a curt nod. “Right. Well, I’ll leave you to it, then. Have a lovely night.”

  Her hand shot out to grab his arm when he moved to walk away. “I’m here with two women,” she told him, smiling, “but I wouldn’t call them my dates. I don’t swing that way. Except for one drunken night in college, but that was mere curiosity.”

  He blinked once, then twice. When he still didn’t say anything, she waved a hand in his face. He immediately shook his head, eyes hot and intent. “I’m sorry, was I not supposed to get a visual with that?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Typical.”

  He placed a hand on her lower back, guiding her toward the bar. “Come on. I’ll buy you a drink and you can tell me all about your experiment in curiosity.”

  She snorted. “Dream on.”

  He groaned in her ear, the sound sending vibrations down her spine. “Oh, I’ll do plenty of dreaming. Don’t you worry about that.”

  As he stood behind her at the bar and ordered their drinks, she noticed how big he really was. You couldn’t exactly miss the man’s size, but being engulf
ed in his arms, completely surrounded by him, made her truly appreciate how built he was. She wondered how big his di—

  Nope, not going there.

  “So this is, what, a girls’ night out for you ladies?” he asked as he grabbed their drinks and moved them to a less crowded part of the bar.

  “Pretty much,” she replied. “Our friend definitely needed it, and Felicity and I could use a break from work.”

  He nodded, drinking from his glass. “The store is looking great, by the way. Peter is very impressed—”

  She cut him off, holding her hand up. “I said a break from work, Zane. No work talk. The only things I want making my head spin tonight are music and alcohol. Not numbers or money or contracts. Got it?”

  His expression was amused. “Fair enough. All right, what would you like to talk about?”

  “Tell me something about you I don’t know.”

  He thought for a moment and chuckled lightly. “The first time you told me to call you Bea, I pictured a sixty-year-old woman in my head.”

  She choked on her drink, coughing several times to clear her throat. “Excuse me?”

  She didn’t know whether to be insulted by that or…insulted by that.

  “As in Bea Arthur? From The Golden Girls?”

  She raised an eyebrow. “I’m not sure you’re making this any better.”

  He put up a placating hand. “My mum was obsessed with The Golden Girls when I was a lad. She watched it about every day. My dad eventually started a garden in our backyard just so he could have an excuse not to watch it with her.”

  Bea couldn’t help but smile at the image of sophisticated, worldly Zane watching a show like The Golden Girls. “So you’re into older women, huh? Tell me, is it the gray hair or the sensible shoes that get you hot?”

  “Actually, the AARP card.” He lifted one shoulder, waggling his eyebrows at her. “What can I say, discounts do it for me.”

  She had another spit-take moment before composing herself again. “Well, you’re not too far off with the whole name thing. Our mama got our names from soap operas, apparently.”

  He shook his head. “You Yanks and your soap operas.”

  “Don’t you be calling me a Yankee,” she said, wagging a finger at him. “Them’s fightin’ words where I come from.”

  He put his hands up in surrender. “My apologies, luv. No offense intended. What brought you up here from Alabama, anyway? I don’t think I’ve ever asked.”

  Considering this was their first non-work-related conversation in two months, that wasn’t a surprise.

  She liked talking to him like this.

  Much more than she should have.

  “Our parents moved us to DC when I was twelve,” she replied. “Daddy was a congressman. He and Mama moved back South after Felicity graduated high school. His term was up by then.”

  “You didn’t go with them? Do you not like it down there?”

  “No, I love Alabama. But Felicity and I chose to stay here to go to college, and we eventually decided to go into business together. This city felt like the right fit.”

  “Just you and her?” he asked. “No other siblings?”

  She shook her head. “Nope. Just us.” She looked around, squinting at the dark club that was packed full of bodies. Even if Felicity hadn’t been barely five foot, Bea still wouldn’t have been able to spot her. “She’s around here somewhere. What about you? Any siblings?”

  “No. It’s just me and my father.”

  Something about the way he said it told her not to pry further. Sensitive subject? Well, if he wasn’t willing to share, that was fine with her. She didn’t really want to talk tonight, anyway.

  She tipped her head back and drained the rest of her drink. “Well, I believe we’re in a club, Mr. Price. And the fact that you haven’t asked me to dance makes me think you’re probably horrible at it.”

  Wait. What the hell was she doing?

  No touching, remember? Dancing is definitely touching, said her brain.

  But you like this song and he’s so pretty, said the alcohol.

  And you might be able to feel his boner through his pants again, said her vagina.

  Ding, ding, ding! And her vagina was the winner. Followed closely by the alcohol. And trailing far behind in third place, her brain.

  Zane laughed, mimicking her by finishing off his drink. Standing up, he reached for her hand. “If you haven’t learned by now that there are very few things I’m not good at, you’re not as perceptive as I thought.”

  He pulled her along behind him, leading her onto the lively dance floor, his hand strong and warm in hers. A thrill snaked through her at the thought of being close to him, of rubbing against his hard body, feeling those muscles under his shirt. When he found a small clearing in the dancing crowd, he turned around and yanked her to him, bringing his face within inches of hers.

  Just a little farther. That mouth is right there. There went her vagina again.

  Just because you have lips doesn’t mean you get to speak, retorted her brain.

  Someone has to. I’m sick of the vibrator. We need the real thing down here.

  Her brain paused. Good point.

  Before she could say anything, he spun her around so her back was pressed against his front. And he started to move.

  Like, really move. The man had mad dancing skills.

  With his hands gripping her hips, he guided their movements to the pulsing beat of the music. From their shoulders to their toes, their bodies were connected, plastered against each other. He ground his pelvis into her butt in an urgent, demanding way that inspired images of how he might move during sex.

  Soon they were both breathing hard, lust crackling in the air around them.

  Fuck. That feels good.

  Halfway through the song she felt the hard bulge in his jeans press into her ass. She didn’t even care that he probably heard her soft moan. Especially when he let out an answering groan as she pushed back against that hardness, her hips rolling, rubbing his rigid shaft.

  “Careful,” he murmured in her ear, his voice low with a dangerous edge. “You don’t know what you’re playing with.”

  She pulled him closer, turning her head slightly so he could hear her over the pounding bass. “I know exactly what I’m playing with. I take that sort of thing very seriously. And when I play, I play rough.”

  He growled as his hands flew up to her waist, squeezing her tight. His fingers moved upward and swept across her breasts, palming them briefly before moving back down to her ass. When his fingers reached the hemline of her dress, her sex flooded with heat.

  He acted like a man who had been starved of touch, as though he had to feel her everywhere.

  And she wasn’t about to stop him.

  While he explored her body, his face stayed buried in her neck, his hot breath sending tingles across her skin. The feel of his lips gave her goose bumps. And when his tongue sneaked out and licked along her earlobe, her knees literally went weak.

  Good God. The man knew how to seduce.

  She was so focused on his mouth that she almost forgot his fingers were inching her dress up, little by little. It was so dark in the club, no one could see what they were doing. She wouldn’t have cared if they could, anyway. She was halfway to an orgasm already.

  “What do you think?” he asked roughly. “Is my dancing satisfactory?”

  His fingers caressed her thighs, moving inward but always retreating before they could reach the Promised Land.

  “I’ll write down ‘exemplary’ on your report card,” she said breathily, lost in their sensual bubble. “‘Pupil shows definite promise.’”

  He chuckled darkly and grasped both of her lower cheeks, forcing a sharp gasp from her. “How about ‘exceeds expectations’?”

  He kneaded her flesh and her pulse skyrocketed. “Mmm, yeah. Let’s go with that.”

  She thrust back for more, and he groaned in her ear. “That’s what I thought,” his voice rumbled into
her neck. “You know, this arse was the first thing of yours I noticed. The way you kept bending over when we were paintballing. I couldn’t stop staring at it.”

  Holy hell. He was making her so hot.

  “I noticed,” she said breathlessly.

  “Did you also notice how hard I was for you? By the end of the game, it hurt to bloody walk.” He took her hand and pulled it behind her, placing it directly over his bulge. With his hand covering hers, they both squeezed. “Notice how hard I am for you now, Bea?”

  Shit. She didn’t know how much more she could take.

  She cupped his manhood, stroked his stiff cock. Those jeans did nothing to hide his size. Clearly, he did have reason to be cocky.

  “Fuck, yes,” he breathed. “I think perhaps we should take this elsewhere.”

  “This is working just fine for me.”

  But not really. She needed to be naked with him—soon—but didn’t know if she could pry herself away from him at the moment.

  “Sweetheart, I don’t plan on this night ending with a quick fuck in the dirty loo of this club. I have much better ideas in mind.”

  He stopped thrusting his hips against hers, and she immediately wanted to protest. His arms remained wrapped around her, but they had stilled. The only thing moving now was his chest as it rose and fell with his heavy breaths.

  “Come on, Bea. We’ve avoided this for two months, but you can’t deny it anymore. We want to fuck. So. Let’s. Fuck. I want to see your tits. I want to taste that pussy. I want those goddamn legs wrapped around me when I come so fucking hard inside you. And I know you want my cock. I can smell your desire. So, let me give it to you. Let me make your head spin tonight.”

  Oh. My. God.

  A woman only had so much resistance. And he had just stampeded through every bit of hers.

  “Meet me outside,” she told him, and dashed out of his arms to go find Felicity and Gwen. She quickly told them she was taking off but wasted no time explaining. It wasn’t necessary, anyway.

  She flew out the door of the club and spotted him leaning against the brick wall of the building, looking every inch like he wanted to grab her and take her up against that wall. His eyes blazed with heat, shooting through her like a laser beam as he watched her approach. Or maybe it was a tractor beam, because she felt an invisible force pulling her to him.