His Little Black Book

by Heather MacAllister

  “Then why did he invite company employees?” She exhaled and tried calling Jonathan again.

  Gil figured she’d called him about fifty times already.

  She snapped her phone closed. “Why is there so much traffic?”

  “It’s a Saturday. People are returning home and beach-house owners are checking on their property. There could be road damage or flooding or the county officials might not be letting people into the area.” Gil kept his voice calm to hide his irritation. He wanted to stay irritated. It kept him from pulling off the road and grabbing her, first to shake sense into her and then to kiss sense into her. He’d probably skip the shaking and just go for the kissing. In spite of everything he wanted to kiss her. Just once. Okay, more than once, but at least once because he never had. He needed closure.

  Forget closure. He just wanted to kiss her. He kept thinking about the feel of her lips next to his nose last night and didn’t want that to be his only kissing memory.

  If he still wanted her after listening to her go on about Jonathan, how was he ever going to stop wanting her? Because he did, in spite of her tunnel vision and her fidgeting and her infatuation with the ultimate player.

  He was as hopeless as she was.

  She moaned and rubbed her temples with both hands.

  “Headache?”

  Cammy dropped her hands. “Yes.”

  “Then let’s just forget going to the beach house and drive back home.”

  “No!” She glared at him. “Why would I want to do that?”

  “Oh, I don’t know.” His fingers tapped against the steering wheel. “Maybe because you don’t even know if he’s there?”

  “He’s there.” She sounded utterly sure. “And he’s probably worried that I haven’t shown up.”

  “Then why hasn’t he called you?”

  It was a reasonable question, but Cammy didn’t answer. Instead, she opened her phone and hit Redial. Gil could hear when the call went straight to the mailbox-full message.

  “Cammy, he’s not worth this,” he said quietly.

  “Yes, he is!”

  “Why?” He wanted her to admit that she was in love with Jonathan—to hear her say it. Maybe that would break the hold she had over him.

  “Because he’s our extremely talented and successful Creative Director. Technically, he’s your boss, too. Why wouldn’t you do everything you could to support him?”

  Gil let her question hang in the air and then decided to answer. “Because I’m not in love with him and you are.”

  CAMMY LITERALLY STOPPED breathing. Was that a lucky guess or did Gil know? After a couple of beats went by, she managed a credible laugh. “Because I care about doing a good job? Oh, please.”

  “It’s way more than a job to you,” Gil went on. “It’s your excuse to stay close to him. You’re obsessed with the guy and everyone knows it. Including Jonathan.”

  People knew? Everyone knew? Jonathan knew? She was going to be sick. Swallowing hard, she tried damage control. “I can’t believe you said that.” Her heart raced. “I can’t believe our work ethic has deteriorated to the extent that when someone works hard and does her job to the very best of her ability, people think something’s wrong or that she’s ‘obsessed.’” She glared at him. “Look at that. I’m so upset I used finger quotes.”

  He held her gaze. “You’re in love with Jonathan Black. No finger quotes. Admit it.”

  “I am not.”

  Gil looked forward as the traffic moved a few feet. “You broke up our team and took an intern-level position that you’ve clung to for three years during which you’ve become Jonathan Black’s personal servant.” He threw her a glance before checking the rearview mirror. “You’re nothing but a flunky in a low-paid, dead-end job.”

  Her chest hurt. How dare he say these things to her? “I get it. You’re just mad because I didn’t want to be your partner anymore.”

  “I’m disgusted because you threw away your career so you could hang around in case he noticed you. Not gonna happen.”

  If Gil had been shouting or angry at her, his words wouldn’t have cut as deeply as this dispassionate recital.

  “He’s my mentor. I took the opportunity to learn from the best.” She could hardly hear her voice over the pulsing in her ears.

  But she heard his.

  “You think if you make yourself indispensible that one day, he’ll blink and say, ‘Why Cammy, you’re beautiful. I’ve been so blind! Let’s have sex.’”

  She gasped. “I do not.”

  “But if he did say that, you’d do it, wouldn’t you? Right in his office. You take care of everything else in his life, why not that, too?”

  Cammy’s hands shook. She had to get away from Gil. She had to get away from the awful things he was saying. “Stop the car.”

  “It’s not moving that fast. If you want to go for a dramatic jump from a moving vehicle, now’s your chance. You probably won’t break anything.”

  She stared at Gil. Never in a million years would she have imagined this conversation with him. “I hate you.”

  “Good.” He nodded to himself. “That’s good.”

  “Why?”

  “Because now maybe you’ll wake up to the fact that there’s no hope, no chance, no way Jonathan will ever love you.” Gil faced her full-on. “He’s using you and he’ll keep using you as long as a little flirting will keep you hanging in there.”

  “You can’t—You don’t…” Her chest was so tight she couldn’t get enough air. “I want out of this car.” Her voice quivered and Cammy honestly didn’t know if it was from shock, anger—or the fact that he might be right. She grabbed the door handle, but it was locked. “Let me out!” She pulled on the lock, but Gil overrode it from his side. “Unlock the door!”

  He ran his hands through his hair and gripped the steering wheel. “Cammy—”

  “Now!”

  Abruptly, and totally illegally, Gil pulled into the emergency lane and passed the line of stalled cars until he exited the highway. They were out in the middle of nowhere. The intersection at the underpass was nothing but a four-way stop with a combination gas station and bait shop a few hundred yards down the road to the right. Undeveloped flat land with tall spindly grass and billboards surrounded them.

  Cammy pointed a shaking finger. “Pull in to the bait shop.”

  “It’s closed.”

  “I don’t care!”

  Gil drove to the entrance. A hand-lettered sign on the door read Power Out.

  “Now what?” he asked.

  Cammy gathered her purse. “Drive around back.”

  Gil circled past the gas pumps and stopped. No cars were parked by the back entrance. Cammy had hoped someone might be inside so she could pay them to drive her to the beach house. No matter. She’d think of something. “Let me out.” She wanted to get as far away from Gil as she could.

  Yanking on the handle, she was surprised when it gave and she nearly fell out. Slamming the door behind her, she marched toward the empty boxes by the trash, intending to sit on one and call her friends until she found someone who would come and rescue her from the horrible Gil. But as soon as she saw the boxes, she remembered the supplies in the back of his SUV and turned around.

  He was leaning against his car, arms crossed over his chest, watching her. Something about the way the late-afternoon light burnished his skin or the expression on his face or the way his brown eyes focused on her said “man.” Shouted “man,” actually.

  A whisper of awareness bubbled through her. This is Gil. Gil. You hate him, remember? His bad-boy pose is just to show off his chest and arms. So what if they’re worth showing off? You still hate him.

  The air outside the car was hot and sticky and a rotten fish smell hung over the trash cans. No way could she stay there.

  Cammy walked back to the car acutely aware of Gil watching her every move. Now that he no longer wore glasses, his brown eyes appeared more intense. If she didn’t hate him, she might use the w
ord smoldering to describe them. So let him smolder. She was angry, too.

  As Cammy drew closer, Gil swept his gaze over her. She wore a white tank top and pale blue denim shorts. Perfectly respectable. Except that the way Gil was looking at her didn’t make her feel very respectable.

  A male work colleague should not look at a female work colleague as though he was imagining her naked. Completely inappropriate.

  To her mortification, Cammy felt her body respond with gathering warmth in the places where his eyes lingered. Her skin felt tingly and tight.

  When she realized she was breathing through her mouth, she brought her lips together and swallowed. Gil’s mouth curved in a knowing smirk. Cammy felt a rush of desire so strong she stumbled. To cover, she bent and pretended to take a piece of crushed shell out of her sandal. She straightened and caught Gil’s gaze lingering where her neckline gapped. He wasn’t smoldering with anger, he was just smoldering. And doing it very well. So well, that Cammy almost forgot that she hated him.

  “Change your mind?” he asked when she reached him.

  When had his voice deepened?

  Ignoring the way it vibrated through her, she continued to the back of the car. “I forgot the supplies and food.” She opened the cargo door.

  Gil closed it. “I’m not going to leave you here alone.”

  He sounded very manly and mature and she was throwing a tantrum. So not like her. But she wasn’t feeling like herself, either. She felt anxious, unsettled, and she stood way too close to him, so close she started noticing things like the arch of his eyebrows and the tiny curl of hair that touched one of his earlobes. She caught the steady up-and-down movement of his shoulders as he breathed. And she wanted to lick the place where his neck met his shoulder. To be honest, she’d happily lick a lot more.

  Her skin prickled because she wanted him to touch her. The exact places she wanted to be touched were throbbing. Where had this reaction come from?

  Okay. Enough. Between her car, the worry about the beach-house party, the anger over Gil’s words and the fear that everyone at work knew her secret, she was on emotional overload, that’s all.

  “C’mon.” He gestured with his head.

  She didn’t have a lot of options, but that didn’t mean she’d just meekly get back into the car. “Not until you apologize for the things you said.” She tilted her chin up to show she was serious.

  Drawing his hands to his waist, he stared down at her and she had no idea what he was thinking. He wasn’t apologizing, she knew that.

  Gil blinked once and the rest happened in slow motion. He stepped closer and Cammy felt the heat of his body even in the warm, sticky air. She caught his scent over the smelly garbage. His head tilted and the hair on her arms tickled as his hands brushed past on their way to cupping her face. Her heart thundered, sensing before her brain that he was going to kiss her. Her lips parted in a gasp as he bent his head and took her mouth in a full-on kiss.

  That first touch was like a jolt of static electricity and she gasped again, inhaling his breath. He leaned into the kiss, fitting her mouth to his, and then settled in to create some serious sizzle.

  A roaring filled her ears as her heart went crazy and everything in her started shouting “Yes!” Her brain was short-circuiting and her blood had gone fizzy. All the ambiguous restlessness she’d felt earlier had become desire and that desire was focused on her mouth, which was attached to Gil’s mouth.

  Gil. Out of nowhere, she’d discovered this incredible chemistry with Gil. Cammy was having a tough time with the concept, so she just went with it, relaxing and pressing her body against his surprisingly lumpy one—and not the good kind of lump. And then she realized she still had a grip on her purse between them and dropped it. Winding her arms around his neck, she relaxed into him. It was a lot better now that there was just the one lump.

  Without breaking their kiss, Gil released her face and splayed one hand over her back and one hand on her bottom.

  And squeezed.

  Cammy gave a yelp of surprise which opened her mouth wider. Gil plunged his tongue inside and pressed her into the cradle of his thighs at the same time.

  Melting. She was melting. All the sizzling and the fizzing and the short circuiting was going to dissolve her into a warm little bubbling puddle right at Gil’s feet. Either this was the best kiss of her life or it had been so long since she’d been kissed, she’d forgotten how good it could be. Probably both.

  Being wrapped in his arms felt shockingly right, awakening a need and filling it at the same time.

  And he tasted great. She probably tasted like garlic. He didn’t seem to mind.

  He moved his fingers lightly across the strip of skin above her waistband but mostly, he concentrated on the kiss and using his tongue to stroke and sensitize.

  She was lost in time, oblivious to everything but the sensations Gil aroused in her. When he began to pull back, Cammy embarrassed herself by letting a whimper of protest escape before she could stop it.

  Gil softened the kiss, lingering a little longer, nuzzling her lips before lifting his head. It was a total contrast to the sudden full throttle beginning and devastatingly effective.

  Oh. So that’s what a kiss is supposed to be like. Good to know.

  Gill gazed down at her, his arms still holding her. Of course her arms were around his neck, so he could hardly go anywhere. And from the waist down, she might as well have been glued to him.

  Dazed, she gradually became aware of her surroundings as one by one her senses focused outward again. She heard the distant rumble of traffic from the highway, felt a trickle of sweat run between her shoulder blades and noticed the decaying fish smell of the garbage. And in front of her stood Gil. Gil, who had just kissed her senseless. Gil whom she hated. She tried to remember why she hated Gil.

  Because he’d accused her of loving Jonathan, which she’d denied…and then he’d kissed her and she…had possibly kissed him back with an enthusiasm that proved she didn’t love Jonathan.

  She hated him for doing that to her. Abruptly pushing herself out of his arms, Cammy gathered the remnants of her earlier anger. “What kind of apology was that?”

  He grinned, looking pleased with himself. “One you liked.”

  It was hard to maintain a self-righteous anger while parts of her body still throbbed with pleasure from the best kiss she’d had in her entire life. “You’re very technically adept.”

  “You’re very hot.”

  Not nearly as hot as the look he gave her. Cammy could feel her skin tingling again. This time, she recognized it as desire for his touch. The only relief she’d found had been when he was holding her. Even now, the skin near the small of her back prickled because his fingers had caressed her there.

  This was awful. She wasn’t supposed to be attracted to Gil. Attracted. Ha. He’d unleashed a raging lust. Cammy wasn’t a lustful person, yet she could barely look at him without panting in desire. She wanted to rip off his shirt and feel his skin. She wanted to rip off her shirt and rub against him.

  She hated feeling so aware of him, as though all her nerves were standing on tiptoe in order to get closer to him. Lust seemed like such a simple emotion. Maybe that’s why it was so strong.

  Cammy stepped back and dragged in a lungful of air to ease the tightness in her chest. She figured she’d have to live with the throbbing.

  Gil bent down and picked up her purse.

  “Why?” She took it from him. “Why did you kiss me?”

  He gave her a lopsided smile. “Because I’m in love with you.”

  All the air she’d painfully worked into her lungs whooshed out. “You are not.”

  “Don’t think I’m unaware of the irony. You stuck on Jonathan. Me stuck on you.”

  Cammy held her breath because she was dangerously close to hyperventilating. She did not need this. She knew what Gil was doing: this was a test. The kiss, his false declaration of love, all of it was a way to prove she didn’t really love Jonathan. Wh
ich was what she wanted him to believe. Which he didn’t.

  “So what do you think is going to happen here? Am I supposed to look at you and say, ‘Why, Gil, you’re so handsome. I’ve been so blind. Let’s have sex’?”

  A smile indicated that he recognized his words to her earlier. “Works for me.”

  “Right here, right now?”

  “Better and better.”

  One of them was going to blink first. It wasn’t going to be Cammy. She yanked open the car door and tossed her purse into the cargo area. “How about the backseat?”

  “That’d be great.” Gil reached for a lever at the side of the bench seat and pushed at the back until it lay flat.

  It looked like a bed. Cammy’s anger faded as something that felt like panic but was probably excitement took over. She didn’t want to analyze exactly what was going on here, but she wanted to win. “I suppose you’ve got a condom with you.”

  “No. But you’ve got some in your purse.” Gil leaned over to dig in it as Cammy’s mouth dropped open. How did he know? Embarrassment made her skin hot and then clammy as he triumphantly held up a string of three.

  Defiantly, she snatched them out of his hand and tucked them into the space where the headrest met the seat back. “There. All ready. It’s always awkward when the mood gets broken because the man has to stop and fumble for a condom.”

  “I never fumble.”

  “You’ve never had sex in the backseat of a car, either.”

  He just grinned.

  Oh, hell. Now what?

  “After you.” Still grinning, he gestured to the car, calling her bluff.

  He thought he had her. He thought she’d chicken out.

  Facing him, Cammy crossed her arms, grabbed the hem of her tank top and pulled it off in one quick movement. “Not a lot of headroom in there. This way nobody takes an elbow to the face.”

  “I like the way you think.” Gil pulled his shirt off one-handed revealing a sculpted torso to go along with the shoulders she’d noticed last night. Balling up his shirt, he threw it toward the front seat.

  Cammy would have given anything to have been able to look him up and down in a casual I-suppose-you’ll-do kind of way, but her eyes and already gone wide. “Gil!”