Covet the Curves: a Romance Collections Anthology

by Morgan, Nicole

  “Well, it looks like there’s coffee at least.”

  She glanced away from the poor pickings in the fridge to see him fingering the single brew containers stored by the coffee maker.

  “Yeah.” She hesitated, knowing he didn’t take compliments or praise very well. “The employees really appreciate the new machines and supplies, by the way.”

  As she expected, he brushed aside the words. “Human resources found the idea in the suggestion box.”

  “Yes, but you’re the one footing the bill.”

  He casually strolled across the room to stand behind her. “The company makes enough money to provide a few perks to the people who help make it.” His arm reached around to grab the door, crowding her between the appliance and his big body. Again, she felt that satisfying sense of being so little and petite against his large frame. She could either step forward into the cold air escaping the fridge or stand her ground and allow his warmth to engulf her from behind. She was still cold from their aborted trip outside so she stayed exactly where she was.

  Or at least that’s why she told herself she didn’t move away.

  “Mmm, not much in here.” He wrapped a muscular arm around her back, low on her hips, so he could bend forward and poke around at the meager contents. There was a loaf of bread and a few sodas.

  “There’s some peanut butter in the cabinet above the sink,” she whispered, barely remembering it was there, thanks to the almost paralyzing awareness she had of him being near.

  “Great. That gives us some protein.” He looked down at her and smiled again.

  What in the world had put her boss in such a good mood? Not that he was a grouch, but he could be snarly sometimes when things didn’t go his way the first time. Because they always went his way eventually. Was the thought of being stranded with her for the weekend a happy thought?

  He gathered up the bread and two sodas before grabbing the peanut butter from the cabinet. When he opened it, he discovered a couple of packs of Ramón noodles. Jarod picked up a pack and tossed it in his hand. “Well, I guess we won’t starve.” He put it back down, then looked at her and frowned. “Do you want something hot instead of a sandwich?”

  “No, the sandwich is fine.” She took a seat at the table and waited for him to join her since he was carrying all the food. He grabbed a couple of paper plates and a knife before taking a seat by her side. With quick, efficient motions he had two sandwiches fixed, and the sodas opened.

  She reached to get them napkins from the middle of the table, noticing he wasn’t eating yet. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. I’m waiting for you to eat.”

  “What?”

  “A wolf always makes sure women and children are fed first.”

  Her eyebrow quirked in curiosity. “Really?” she picked up her sandwich as if to take a bite then put it back down. “You mean if I didn’t eat, you wouldn’t either?”

  “No.”

  As a smile spread across her face, he leaned closer. So close, she had to lean back to avoid him touching her face with his.

  “But, you would eat. It is my duty to see that you are healthy and safe and happy.”

  “Because I’m a woman?”

  He didn’t move away, and she couldn’t hold his gaze any longer. Her brown eyes bounced away from the strong lines of his face as she glanced nervously at her hands now clenched together in his lap.

  “Sure. Because you’re a woman.” He finally moved away. “Now eat.”

  Sara picked up the sandwich more to have something to do than because she was hungry. Although it was late in the day, it was still earlier than she usually had supper. Taking a tentative bite, she chewed and swallowed. The bread was cold, and he’d spread a thick layer of peanut butter between the two slices. The bite of sandwich almost stuck in the back of her throat.

  Jarod saw her tensing up and heeded his wolf’s warning to back off. “Finish your sandwich, Sara.”

  He picked up his sandwich and it was gone in a few quick bites. Getting up from the plastic chair, he opened the cabinets, taking a more thorough inventory of what they had, more to give himself something to do than anything else. He’d make sure Sara had what she needed. If he thought they were in any danger, he’d have someone pick them up in a helicopter when the weather broke. His pilot was a crazy bear shifter who would fly in anything.

  The cabinets were pretty sparse. He made a mental note to have human resources stock each employee lounge with some non-perishable food stuff. Snowstorms, like they were experiencing, weren’t uncommon in the Chicago area. Of course, if he’d been a little more attentive, he wouldn’t be stranded.

  Right now, he was damn glad he hadn’t been more attentive. He grabbed a glass and ran some water in it. Of course, if he’d been by himself, he’d probably have chanced the roads, or, as Sara suggested, shifted and ran home. He had an apartment not too far from the office, plus a large house in the country. He couldn’t wait to take Sara there when it was snowing. She’d love it. Of course, he’d make sure there was plenty of firewood and food, and that she was left in no doubt how they’d spend the time waiting for the weather to break.

  Sara turned just as Jarod put a glass to his mouth and tilted it up to gulp it down. The move exposed his neck, making his Adam’s apple stand out in prominence. Why did that pose look so damn sexy on a man?

  Rising from the chair, she quickly cleaned up their mess, putting the paper plates in the trash and wiping down the table with a paper towel. That was about all she could do. “Are we ready to go back?”

  She kept her face turned away from him, her back straight as they walked back to their office suite.

  “So, what do we need to go over, Sara?”

  “I, um, I’m not sure. I’ll need to pull your calendar up.” She turned to go back into her office to get her tablet. She prayed she’d put it on charge earlier when she’d been preparing to leave. She’d been so distracted by the snow, she couldn’t remember if she had or not.

  As she walked, she felt the clasp of the clip holding her hair give way. “Dang it,” she muttered. Raising her arms, she started to pull her hair back into its customary style at the back of her neck.

  “Leave it down,” Jarod commanded huskily, having covered the distance between them when she hadn’t been looking. “It’ll keep your ears warm.”

  He took the clip from her unresisting hold and Sara was too startled by his sudden nearness to protest.

  “I like it down. The color is beautiful.”

  He ran his fingers through the silky locks, and it took everything in her not to groan out loud. Why was that so erotic? So intimate of a touch?

  “You blush very easily, don’t you?” He was staring down at her and she felt the color intensify.

  “I, uh.” She didn’t know what else to do, so she stepped away. He let the strands fall away from his fingers. “It’s impractical to wear it down. It keeps getting in the way.”

  “Does it?” Disbelief was in his voice as he tucked her hair behind her ears. “It’s still a little damp from our aborted trip outside. It needs to dry. Wear it down for me, Sara.”

  “Okay.” The instant she surrendered to his stronger will, she knew the flow of their relationship had changed. The cloud of hair about her shoulders made her feel intuitively feminine and vulnerable. The very sensations she’d told herself never to feel around this magnetic man.

  She left her hair down and retrieved her tablet and a good old-fashioned pad of paper and a pen. For the next hour, they went over his schedule for the next month. Then he dictated some letters—yes, Sara was one of the few assistants in the world who still knew how to take shorthand—and then he was working on the contract again.

  Sitting there for a few minutes, she watched as he gave the document his full attention. There was nothing unusual about them working late into the evening, but knowing they were completely—as in no one else around—alone in the building tinged the atmosphere with an intimacy she hadn’t
anticipated.

  He looked up and caught her staring. Instead of the sarcastic comment, she was expecting, he laid down his pen and gave her his full attention. “Is something wrong, Sara?”

  She shrugged her shoulder. “No, it’s just.” She rubbed her hand down her thigh. How did she explain what she was feeling? Should she? No. No, she shouldn’t. “Nothing. It’s nothing.”

  Her pulse fluttered erratically under his disturbing look. Strong fingers dug into the arms of his chair as Jarod pushed himself upright, flexing his shoulders. Through her lashes, Sara studied the ruggedness of his build. His height, easily three inches over six feet, seemed to swallow her up.

  “Mr. McCall—”

  “Jarod, Sara. You need to call me Jarod.”

  He came around to the front of the desk, lounging back against the edge. Lordy, Lordy, it put his, um, package directly in front of her. Oh, the fantasies she’d had about this particular position. In her X-rated version, she reached out and undid his leather belt, then the waistband of his suit pants. Next, she lowered the zipper, making sure she didn’t catch his delicate flesh. Then, then she leaned forward and—

  “Sara. Sara.” Jarod’s tone was sharp, and she realized he’d been trying to get her attention for several minutes.

  “What!” Sara looked up, her eyes still slightly unfocused. Within seconds, she’d blinked away the fantasy and saw his searing gaze was focused sharply on her.

  Way too focused on her.

  “I’m going to my office.” She stood abruptly, brushing against him in the process. Oh, God, he felt so good, so solid.

  “Sara—”

  She ignored the concerned sound of her name and continued into her office. There was no way she’d be was able to stay in the same room after day dreaming about giving him a blowjob.

  “Sara.”

  She was proud of herself that she’d continued to ignore the call of her name.

  Chapter Three

  TWO HOURS LATER, Jarod walked out of his office. “I think it’s time to eat again.”

  “I don’t. I’m not hungry,” Sara protested, her body going rigid when she heard the connecting door open. She’d decided to use this downtime sorting through her files. Call her old fashioned, but she liked having hard copies of all her important files. Plus, she needed something to get her mind off her sexy shifter boss.

  Why did everyone think technology and cyberspace would save the day? Their internet connection had been intermittent the whole day.

  It had taken an act of Congress, but she’d finally gotten the purchase of a large three-drawer file cabinet approved for her horde of paper. Her space was limited, and she was pretty sure she’d never get another one.

  His sudden appearance made her less than attentive, and she barely noticed that the top drawer didn’t latch tightly when she closed it. As she was opening the bottom drawer to file another folder, the unlatched top drawer slid forward. That soft sliding sound was the only warning she had before the whole cabinet was tilting forward. Automatically, she put her hands out to catch the cabinet and shut the door to stop its fall. She succeeded for just a second.

  “Well, crap,” she muttered, picturing herself crushed—or at least pretty banged up—under the metal monstrosity. Didn’t the damn thing have some sort of safety feature to prevent this from happening? Just as she’d resigned herself to being squished like a bug, a loud growl sounded behind her before two strong arms were pushing the cabinet up and the drawers back in place. The after effect of realizing she could have been hurt was overshadowed by the strong hands gripping her shoulders.

  “Are you alright, Sara?” His hands ran over her head, her neck, and her shoulders. A rough hand brushed the hair away from her face.

  “Yes,” she answered shakily.” “I think so.”

  Jarod’s strong arms encircled her, drawing her close to his hard body. His shirt buttons blurred in front of her eyes as she swayed closer to him. It was casual Friday, and he hadn’t worn a tie. She didn’t know why that thought struck her at that moment in time, but it did.

  “Why did you try and stop it?” There was more than a hint of anger in his husky voice.

  “I didn’t think.”

  She savored the beat of his heart beneath her hand. Her awareness of his mouth so close to hers sent her pulse racing as she wondered what it would feel like to be kissed by Jarod McCall. She had no doubt he would be an aggressive lover. But would he be unselfish? Making sure she found her pleasure before finding his own?

  A languorous warmth began spreading from the hands on her back and the firm pressure of his thighs against her body. Whoa, that wasn’t one of his thighs that was growing firmer. Her breath caught in the back of her throat.

  “Well, think next time.” He stepped back abruptly, his arms dropping away as if she’d suddenly caught fire.

  There was a coldness in his eyes that made her shiver more than the thought of going out in the snow again.

  “It’s time to eat.”

  His hand took hold of her elbow, and he walked her the last few feet out of her office. The pressure of his hand didn’t ease until they entered the employee lounge. From there, Sara walked unaided to the refrigerator. If he was insistent they ate, then she wanted to help. She grabbed two more cans of soda, although the last thing she needed was caffeine this late at night. It was going to be hard enough to fall asleep without the added stimulus.

  “What time is it?” she asked as she grabbed a couple of paper plates, anticipating another peanut butter sandwich. Why was it that you thought of all kinds of food you’d like to have when you couldn’t go get anything? She remembered when she was younger, and a heavy snow was forecasted. Everyone in her little town would raid the local grocery stores for bread, milk, and eggs. Suddenly, the thought of scrambled eggs, with toast and jelly and a large glass of cold milk sounded divine.

  “What was that sigh for?” Jarod had retrieved the jar of peanut butter and the half loaf of stale bread. “Sara?”

  “Oh, I was thinking how great some scrambled eggs would be.” She shared her story, and that had him sharing a few of his own. It was somewhat different in a shifter family before a big storm. Besides going to the grocery, they went hunting, gathering meat, in case they couldn’t hunt once the storm hit. She’d never thought about it, but it made sense that both the wolf and the man had to eat.

  She was almost embarrassed to ask, “How often do you, um, have to feed your wolf?”

  Jarod smiled at her and again she felt that rush of rightness. What would it feel like to sit across from him every evening sharing stories of their busy day?

  “What, are you afraid the wolf will get hungry, baby? And eat Little Red Riding Hood?”

  She couldn’t prevent the small gasp that escaped, before she declared, “You, you don’t eat humans. Stop trying to scare me.”

  She didn’t acknowledge the fact that he’d called her baby. Bells rang, warning her that she was becoming much too susceptible to his attraction, but she couldn’t think what she might do to prevent that. Sara realized it was this constant sharing that was shattering her control. There was no more employee-employer barrier between them. A business aloofness couldn’t be maintained under these circumstances.

  “So I guess it’s peanut butter sandwiches, again, huh?” He gave her a twisted little smile. With quick, efficient motions, he made her a half of sandwich. She realized he was rationing the food, and a flare of anxiety washed over her. How long did he expect them to be stranded here?

  “Oh, wait, I did find something else.” He jumped up and opened a cabinet door. “Look what we have for dessert.”

  With a flourish, he presented her with a plastic cup of mandarin oranges. For some reason, the gesture made her eyes fill with tears. “Thank you,” she mumbled.

  “Hey, hey, now. What’s wrong?” He squatted beside her chair and lifted her chin up with one of his fingers.

  “Nothing.” She looked at him, but his face was blurry, thanks
to her tears. Before she knew it, he was brushing away the tear that had fallen from the corner of her eye. She saw the worry and concern in his eyes. They had darkened like they did when he was angry. Or concerned, she realized suddenly. He’d had that look sometimes when he spoke of his younger brother. The one in the military.

  “Sara.”

  From the tone of his voice, she could tell he didn’t believe her when she said nothing was wrong.

  “I, just.” She sighed. “I guess I’m scared because I don’t know how long we’ll be here. And you giving me the oranges was just so sweet.”

  “Do you trust me, Sara?”

  “Yes.” There was no hesitation in her answer.

  He placed his hands on top of her shoulders, rubbing them gently. “Then trust me to take care of you, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “Good.” He got up and sat back down in the chair beside her. For some odd reason, she wanted to ask him to move his closer to hers. She missed the heat of his big body, even though the room was the same temperature it had been earlier.

  He took her cup of oranges and opened it for her, careful not to spill the juice. Handing her the sandwich and a plastic spoon, he ordered her to eat.

  After she’d taken a couple of bites, she felt herself calming down. There was no reason to be afraid. The city would dig itself out in the morning. All she had to do was make it through the night. Heat danced along her limbs.

  In the arms of her boss.

  Time for a distraction.

  “You did that very well.”

  “What, calm a hysterical female?”

  “No.” She made a face at him, and he laughed. “And that wasn’t nice to point out my lack of control.” She glanced at him shyly. “No, how did you get so good at opening the oranges?”

  “Two nieces and a nephew. They love the things, but usually, spill the juice all over themselves. It’s all in the flick of the wrist not to spill it.” He winked and finished his off, drinking the juice from the little plastic cup as elegantly as he would sip soup from a silver spoon.