She flattened her back against the door as he pressed in, and still it wasn’t close enough. She fisted his shirt. He tasted like coffee and smelled like body wash, and his low groans were more energizing than the dance station she had dialed up in her car.
“I missed you.” He was breathless when he broke away.
She giggled. “It’s been less than twelve hours.”
“Hmm...” He glided his hands to her ass and pulled her against him. His erection dug into her stomach. “My dick doesn’t tell time so good.”
“Other people will start showing up soon.”
He searched her face. “You’re trying to talk me out of this.”
“I’m trying to be logical.” Which she was pretty much hating. He teased his fingers along her waistband, and the contact threatened to chase away reason.
“I guess one of us should be the grownup.” He trailed his mouth along her jaw. “Do I have two minutes to make you come?”
Yes, please. “I can’t guarantee it.”
“Thirty seconds?”
She rested a palm on his chest and summoned the willpower to push him back. “Thirty seconds? Really?” She couldn’t hide her amusement.
“I see it as a challenge. I learned a lot about you this weekend.”
The way she was squirming from being so near—okay, and from that kiss—she suspected he could pull it off.
“Morning.” Shawn’s call startled her.
Trina raked her fingers through her hair, hoping it wasn’t too much of a mess.
“You look gorgeous,” Spencer whispered, and kissed her on the nose.
“You’re biased.”
“True. But you also look fine. Go.”
She stole one more kiss. “Behave,” she warned, before opening the door.
Did traces of what they were up to show on her face?
Doug arrived as she walked into the lobby. “Why do you look guilty?” he asked.
Anyone else, and she’d wonder what he saw. With him, she assumed he was being an asshole. “You’re projecting.”
He sneered. “Nice. Any reason you’re holding closed-door meetings with the client?”
None of your fucking business. “Catching up with a family friend. Didn’t want to bore anyone with stories about the weather in Utah versus California.” She was both impressed and frightened by how easily the lie slid out.
Doug narrowed his eyes, but as more people arrived, he seemed done with the conversation.
The morning went the same as any last week. Trina was determined to keep a smile on her face and not let Doug know he irritated the piss out of her. Each time he accused her of making a mistake she didn’t, her resolve faltered, though. By the time they took a break around ten, she was ready to let Spencer make good on his threats against the asshole.
Thinking about Spencer helped. Remembering his touch, the caress of calloused fingers along her bare skin, was like its own pocket of Zen.
She grabbed a soda in the breakroom, and instead of relocating to a far wall, to vanish in the paint, she lingered on the edge of a group with Shawn and Brian.
“...and her tits were mas...” Shawn trailed off when he noticed her. “Most certainly not there for my amusement.”
Trina forced a laugh. “Please. We all know you were going to say massive. You can’t pretend you weren’t looking.”
“Yeah, I was.” Shawn chuckled. “I have no idea how she was keeping them in that shirt.”
“Secret girl tricks.” Trina winked. It didn’t diminish her the desire to cover her own chest and back away when three pairs of eyes looked at her breasts. Instead, she jammed her hands in her pockets and stretched, enhancing her assets.
Brian laughed. “I knew there were secret girl tricks. Told you.”
“Whatever.” Shawn rolled his eyes. “She’s making that shit up.”
“Maybe I am—maybe I’m not.” Trina kept her voice playful.
“I don’t know what you’re up to, but I still call bullshit.” Doug's voice was low enough only she would hear it.
She pointed her sugary smile at him, ignoring the foul taste in her mouth at playing this role even a little. “No clue what you’re talking about.”
As she turned back to the larger conversation, she caught a glimpse of Spencer out of the corner of her eye. She saw him shake his head with a frown, before heading back into his office.
The acrid flavor on her tongue intensified. Only a few weeks. She could do this.
She had to.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Spencer sat in front of his laptop, but his focus wasn’t on the screen. If what he witnessed in the break room was Trina’s way of dealing with it, he didn’t care for her approach. He was willing to admit part of it was jealousy, but more of his reaction was that he didn’t like that she felt the fake attitude was her only out.
It made him want to be here every day, to make sure she was all right. Not that he could control her behavior. Or afford to work outside the office so many days in a row. He’d justified it to himself this morning, needing to make sure she was doing okay with her colleagues and wanting to see her again.
He kind of wished now he didn’t know the fake laughs about boob jokes were her solution.
He’d pick up his car at lunch and head back to the office and leave her to do her job.
The thought of lunch sparked a new idea. Things were running on a regular schedule here, so the install team went their own ways at noon. Maybe he could snag some private time for an hour.
He sent Trina a quick text. Lunch-ish?
Yes :* Her response came through seconds later.
It didn’t erase his concerns, but it was enough of a promise to let him focus on work. He hadn’t been at it long, when his phone rang. The display said it was his lawyer.
Spencer answered, and they exchanged pleasantries.
“I have a response from Mia, to your Motion to Dismiss,” Christian said.
Spencer didn’t have to ask if she’d agreed. “What’s her counter?”
“She’s cited dates for trips you took, including receipts and travel itineraries she says are evidence you were sleeping with your assistant.”
Assistant? Shit. The pieces clicked, and he groaned. “About that time, I had a young woman working for me who was friendlier than I was comfortable with.” In that she cornered him in his office one night and kissed him. He tried to brush it off, but she was persistent, and it led to him firing her. But she was his assistant. She had access to all of his travel information because she arranged it. She gave that information to Mia? “I never slept with her, though, or did anything that could be construed as that.”
“Can you prove it’s true?”
Spencer gritted his teeth. “Can I prove I took those trips alone, when, if she’d gone with me, we wouldn’t have told anyone? How am I supposed to do that?”
“You know what I’m going to recommend.”
“I’m not making a settlement offer.”
Christian’s sigh was loud and lined with disappointment. “Do you have anyone who can corroborate you were with them for any of the dates on there? Business dinners? Anything of the sort?”
“From six years ago?” Several of those trips were to Salt Lake. Tristan probably had records. But were a few dinner receipts and digital appointments enough? “I’ll see what I can do. Until then, keep doing what you do.”
Spencer hung up and sent Tristan a quick email, asking what kind of details he had from back then.
He went back to work, getting absorbed in an idea he had for a new indoor wave generator.
A sound nudged the edge of his focus. What was that? Another knock, louder this time, and he dragged himself from the project. “Yeah,” he called.
Trina stepped into the room and closed the door. “Everyone else went to lunch.”
She was a welcome sight for a weary brain. “Come here.” He motioned.
When she got close enough, he grasped her hand and kissed t
he back of her knuckles. Her skin was soft and cool, as if recently washed. He drew his thumb above a fresh cut on the back of her wrist, not making contact. “You all right?”
“I had a wire rebel on me. It’s just a scratch.”
He tugged her closer, then kissed along her fingertips and pulled her index finger into his mouth, to run his tongue along the pad. Her sigh and the flutter of her eyelids chased away his tension and replaced it with need.
“I should be a gentleman and buy you lunch, like I offered,” he murmured against her skin.
“What are my other options?”
“I push you on the desk and fuck you until neither of us can think.”
She caught her bottom lip between her teeth. “I choose that one.”
He liked this wickedly playful side of her. Then again, he had yet to see a side of her he didn’t like. “I want to hear another fantasy.”
“I like the sound of the desk thing.” Mischief danced behind her eyes.
“Nope.” He shook his head. “That’s my suggestion.” He trailed his fingers down her spine.
She arched into him with a gasp. “You’re supposed to be teaching me. Innocent and naïve here.”
“Naïve. Yeah. Okay.” He kept the teasing in his voice. “But we’ll play your way. What inspired the being-watched fantasy?”
“I read. I watch videos. Those are some of my favorites.”
“So you like to be watched and to watch.” That was as much a turn-on as everything else she did. If he wasn’t already erect, he would be at the thought of Trina fingering herself to porn.
Her smile was impish. “Yes.”
“What else do you watch, besides the voyeuristic stuff?”
“Depends on my mood.”
He was going to have to coax the nastiness out. He was good with that. “You’re making this hard.” He pressed against her, emphasizing his point. “If you were to walk out of here right this minute and go watch dirty videos, what would you look for?”
“Raunchy. Crass. Straightforward.”
“You’re killing me.” He caught her earlobe between her teeth and bit enough to draw a moan. “Details,” he said.
She pushed him back and met his gaze, then lowered herself to her knees. She watched him as she traced the outline of his erection beneath his jeans. “Sucking cock.”
He jerk against the teasing contact. Fuck, if that alone wasn’t almost enough to make him come. He pulled down his zipper and freed his dick. “Show me.”
When she traced her tongue over the head, a shudder of need roared inside him. She took him in her mouth, and he had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from groaning too loudly.
With her hand at the base of his shaft, she pumped and sucked. The way she moaned when she licked his skin was as delicious as her touch. She sounded into it, and that was another degree of hot added to seeing her on her knees in front of him.
He knotted his fingers in her hair, setting the pace. She stroked in time to his thrusts. The feeling was incredible, but knowing it was her idea made it that much better.
His balls tightened, and climax built inside. “Trina”—he barely forced her name out— “you need to stop. I’m too close.”
The words seemed to spur her on. It was tempting to let her keep going, but he didn’t want that. Not today. He summoned the last tiny bits of his self-control and pulled back.
She looked up at him with a pout. “You can come on my face.”
Jesus. “Killing me dead.” He tugged her to her feet. “I need to be inside you.” He spun her toward the desk, almost tearing her zipper when he yanked her jeans open and pushed them to her knees. Palm between her shoulder blades, he pushed her forward.
He slid his fingers between her legs, to find her wet and slippery. “You liked that.” His voice was raw.
“Yes. But this is good too.” She wiggled against his touch.
He’d slap her ass but he was worried about the sound carrying. Instead, he glided a thumb inside her, sliding easily into her opening, and teased his first two fingers along her slit.
She tried to press into him. To angle into his touch.
He pulled away, with a tsk. “Not yet.”
“Please?” Her soft voice tugged at his aching cock.
“Please what? Tell me what you want?”
“Finger-fuck my wet pussy. Make me come.”
Her sweet tones saying such filthy things—the contradiction of it was its own aphrodisiac. He was tempted to draw this out and tease her more, but his dick didn’t have the patience for that. Besides, they were on a schedule, not knowing when her co-workers would be back.
He inched forward, to brush her clit. She moaned and wriggled against him. He stroked her swollen button, the sounds she made drilling into his head. Her breathing shifted to punctuated gasps. She was close. He increased the pressure, adjusting according to what made her muffled noises the loudest.
She came hard, slamming against his hand and clenching around his thumb. He pulled out when she pulled away from his attention.
Spencer barely had the presence of mind to pull a condom from his wallet and roll it on, before burying himself to the hilt inside her, with a single thrust.
“You feel so good.” She sounded deceptively sweet.
“I think that’s my line.”
Her heat gripped him, drawing him back to the edge he’d hovered on with her lips around his cock. The fresh memory, combined with her grinding her ass against him and the friction of her legs pressed together, sang to his need.
He dug his fingers into her hips. Each new groan—he lost track of which of them was making the sound—milked his need. He wanted to hold back, but the restraint was gone. He came hard, spasming against her walls and pounding until he was spent.
“I need to sit.” His legs felt like rubber. He collapsed back into the chair and pulled her with him. If asked what it was about Trina that threatened his reason, he’d have a hard time giving a short answer. So much about this was right.
He kissed her forehead and wrapped his arms around her. Their odd states of undress didn’t matter yet. He could enjoy this glow for a couple minutes longer.
TRINA RESTED HER FOREHEAD on Spencer’s chest. She didn’t know how much time they had before people started getting back. For all she knew, a couple of them had returned already. The noon-time play seemed luxuriously long, but at the same time went way too fast.
“I should get back to work.” They were making a habit of this. Or she was, not wanting to walk away when time was up.
Spencer kissed the top of her head. The sweet gesture, as a closer to what they’d just done, sent a fresh flush racing over her skin. “I’ll let you, soon. Just give me this a little longer.”
“Mmm... Okay.”
His sigh shifted her head up and down, and felt heavy rather than contented.
Why did she think that?
“I have a favor to ask.” Hesitation crept into his voice.
This was why. “Sure.” Though she wasn’t at all.
“Don’t encourage those assholes you work with.”
A chill slid through her, nudging out the pleasantness, and she clenched her jaw.
“That’s part me being jealous, but mostly me warning you it’s not the way to handle things,” he said.
“I don’t remember asking you.” The retort held more of an edge than she intended. “And I don’t know what you think I’m doing, but I’m being friendly. One of the guys. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“Until they misinterpret your gestures.”
She pulled away, no longer interested in cuddling. “Because I’m nice?” She knew the answer, though.
“Frequently.”
“Thanks for your concern.” She stepped away from him and yanked her jeans on. “Because I didn’t live through that in high school and college and every fucking day at work. Maybe I want them to misinterpret my gestures. Maybe I’d prefer that to being sneered at and treated as infer
ior because I’ve got boobs.”
Spencer stared at her, jaw set and eyes hard. “Does the sneering stop when you do this? Or are you giving them open season to drool at the same time?”
“It’s less stressful this way, and it’s only for a few weeks.” She shouldn’t have to justify her actions to him. Why didn’t he understand?
“Fine.” He clipped off the word. “Don’t listen to me. It was a simple request. Do what you want. Act as stupid as they are.”
Stupid. The word hit every wrong button inside. “Thanks for your permission.” She spat the retort.
He sighed and raked his fingers through his hair. “I’m not trying to pick a fight. I didn’t mean it to come out that way.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m trying to get us back to neutral.”
She shook her head. “We moved past that when you called me stupid.”
“I didn’t call you— Sure. Whatever. Go be one of them. Enjoy that.”
She gave him a smile she didn’t feel. “I will.” She spun and strode toward the door. A loud, insistent voice raged in her head, telling her not to take her frustration out on Spencer. To turn around and apologize. She couldn’t, because so help her, she needed to be able to save face with at least one person.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Spencer didn’t mean to pick a fight with Trina, but her reaction mounted on top of what Mia was pulling and sent him past the point of giving a fuck. This was what he got for dating a younger woman.
The moment the thought crossed his mind, he felt guilty. He didn’t care for her taking her frustrations out on him, or care for what she was doing. He understood why she was taking the path of least resistance when it came to her colleagues, though.
His phone chirped with a new text. Ambivalence murmured inside when he saw Trina’s name.
I’m sorry, the first message read.
Another popped in. I’d come in there and say it to your face, but people are back from lunch.
I was a brat. Forgive me?
Riding the Wave Page 9
