by J. A. Dennam
BROOKE PULLED INTO THE SAME PARKING SPOT she’d left almost an hour ago. Instead of cutting the engine, however, she put her forehead against the steering wheel, directed the AC vent toward her face, and cranked it up high. As the cold air blasted against her burning skin, she took a deep breath. The smug bastard was up there somewhere, reveling in his power over her. And why wouldn’t he? Every goddamned time he touched her, she went all soft and pliant like some shallow, adoring groupie.
But that would stop today. From now on, she’d conduct herself with the utmost professionalism and restraint; she would avoid Ethan Wolf completely. Next week, everything would fall into place since she’d have her office back and she’d be his boss…if she could keep from killing him, that is.
Her dignity in place, Brooke cut the engine, grabbed her purse, and stepped out into the sweltering heat. Halfway to the front door, her cold cheeks had already turned warm. The gardenia bushes nearby gave off their sultry perfume. She inhaled and let the exotic fragrance soothe the raging beast inside. Yes, it was working. Like magic, her calm was returning, just in time to show her face on the eighth floor.
She walked into the downstairs lobby, welcoming the cool air. As she waited for the elevator, the rest of her collective pride slipped into place.
Ding.
The doors slid open. Chin up, she walked inside and turned toward the panel of buttons…and there he was again: Ethan Wolf, lounging against the corner in his fancy gray business suit in typical ambush mode.
Just like that, a whole hour of meditative therapy flew out the window. “Hell no,” she growled as a red haze overtook her.
He straightened and held up a hand as the doors slid to a close. “I wanted to catch you before you made it up—”
“No!” She swung her purse at him. He took it in the arm, so she did it again, this time with some shoulder behind it. He deflected the blow, which just pissed her off more. How dare he defend himself! “Put your damned arm down!” she yelled. Then, seizing the opportunity she’d always wanted, Brooke opened up on him with everything she had.
“Brooke, would you stop and let me—”
“You asshole!” she raged at him like a crazy woman. “Asshole, asshole, asshole!”
Finally, he caught her purse in midair and forced her against the wall. “I know!” he yelled back. Then, quieter as they panted against each other: “I know. I’m sorry.”
She closed her eyes against the sincerity in his voice and groaned. “I don’t want to hear it; I just want you to stay away from me.” But even now, as he pressed against her, the powerful lust he’d built within her earlier surged with renewed force. “Get away from me, Ethan!”
He did, stepping back with his hands up. “I don’t know what came over me earlier,” he said, calmer now. “I just…I don’t know, I guess I got a little jealous.”
That one must have hurt. She figured it was more of a pride issue rather than jealousy. Somewhat placated, she straightened her hair. “You still suck.”
“So take a few more swings if it’ll make you feel better.”
“Screw you.”
Someone must have pushed a button because the elevator finally began to move. Ethan stayed on his side, though he still watched her. “Did you have lunch with Sid?”
Brooke wanted to say yes, that she’d molested the man in the backseat of her car or something. “No,” she admitted instead.
The relief in his eyes was there and gone before she could fully grasp it. As it sank in, disbelief put a scowl on her face. Since the elevator had no alarm, she reached out and pushed the stop button. The carriage lurched to a standstill. “What the hell was that?” she said in the silence.
Ethan’s gaze slid from the control panel to her face. “What?”
Leaving her purse on the floor, she approached him with a belligerent swagger. “You don’t get to be relieved.”
“I didn’t say any—”
“Because I fully intend to invite him over later for a romantic dinner, lots of wine, and a long night of rigorous, feel-it-in-my-bones, fuck-you-Ethan lovemaking.”
His visage hardened. “Do you even hear yourself?”
Toe-to-toe, she got in his face. “Lots and lots of hot chemistry-filled lovemaking.”
He pushed her off with a dare in his eyes, but before he could speak, Brooke grabbed him with both hands and pulled him into a hot, wild kiss that came out of nowhere. As he floundered beneath the onslaught, a feeling of empowerment took over. She slammed him back against the wall, making her role as aggressor very clear. When she broke the kiss, it was with his bottom lip between her teeth. Ethan freed his flesh from her bite, dabbed at the blood she’d just drawn, and took on a feral look of his own.
While Brooke nurtured a voracious longing to tear him apart, they reached for each other again. This time they attacked with equal demand, equal hunger, foregoing the need to explore this time for an all-out assault that had only one purpose…to join. When a desperate moan escaped her throat, Ethan backed her into the corner, their breath mingling as she tore at the zipper of his trousers.
Her panties slid to the floor. He lifted her up. She wrapped her legs around him. He plunged. She gasped. With the ferocity of a wild animal, he fucked her against the cold metal while she clung to him for dear life.
They came hard together, suppressing their sounds of pleasure as best they could. Thank God. Brooke’s eyes slowly opened. In the blurred reflection overhead, she saw him holding her there, half naked with her legs wrapped around him. They were trapped in a box with their pants down, still connected to each other while catching their breath. Maintenance would be by any time to check out the malfunctioning elevator…but no one seemed in a hurry to move. Ethan put his forehead against hers and kept her off the floor. “What the hell are you doing to me?” he rasped.
“I think we have a problem,” she panted, finally willing to accept her end of it.
“You mean like an addiction?”
She nodded against him. “What else would you call it?”
Ethan’s expression looked grim. “Something I’ve never felt before.”
Brooke absorbed the impact of his words, knowing that they’d just knocked down an important boundary. As the air changed between them, her eyes welled up with tears. When one fell down her cheek, he wiped it away with his thumb and spoke with tenderness. “You scare the hell out of me, Brooke.”
Her tears scared the hell out of her. Could she possibly be in love with the one man who stood in the way of her dreams? She swiped at her eyes. “Why?”
“Last night…it wasn’t a setup. Everything that happened surprised me as much as it did you. I’ve never let anyone in like that, not since the accident. That’s the main reason.”
Feeling his words touch the depths of her soul, she closed her eyes. “And the secondary reason?”
“Because you have secrets, dangerous ones.”
“I have nothing to hide,” she vowed, knowing it was a partial lie.
“Then why didn’t you tell Ken that you’d been a designer here?” It was posed without accusation, yet Brooke felt broadsided just the same. Ethan gave her a little shake. “Talk to me or we’ll never get past it.”
With a resigned sigh and her gaze trained upward, she replied, “It’s irrelevant and no one’s business.”
“It’s my business, Brooke. I need to know if you even want the position we’re competing for.”
A myriad of emotions coursed through her all at once. Though she questioned the wisdom of opening up to him, she needed him to understand. “I want this takeover to have never happened,” she said in a low, strangled voice. “I want things the way they used to be. I want my freedom and my future back.” She swallowed hard, desperately searching for a way to make him see. “That’s something you, of all people, should understand.”
His answer came after a thick silence. “I do.”
Her eyes welled up even more. “Monroe Graphics was a part of me, just like racing
was a part of you. This was my racing, Ethan. So the answer is no. I don’t want your job. I want Ken’s job, or the next best thing to it.”
His expression dark and unreadable, Ethan asked, “How far will you go to get it?”
“Not far enough to leak information, if that’s what you’re asking.”
There was definitely an internal battle brewing behind those enigmatic eyes of his. Brooke waited for the battle to continue, for the doubt and anger to resume. So when he leaned in and swept her up in a long, slow kiss, Brooke kissed him back with a mixture of hope and relief.
“You don’t know how much I want to believe that,” he murmured against her mouth. “But let’s take this one challenge at a time.”
“Meaning what?”
He leaned back again with a focused look. “First we finish the competition without any more games,” he said firmly.
She smiled a little. “I’d like that.”
“And then we face this thing between us.”
The fact he acknowledged they had a “thing” sent funny tingles down her spine. Brooke nodded. “Okay.”
“If all is good there, we’ll have to face Ken and his strict rule against interoffice relationships.”
And therein was the real challenge. If she were to lose, she knew in her heart that she could get past it, especially if he soothed her damaged pride with the promise of regular, mind-blowing sex. But Ken would never stand for it and probably force one of them to quit regardless.
And it wouldn’t be Ethan.
If he were to lose, however, Brooke was pretty sure it would take a lot of trips to the darkroom to “lick his wounds” per se. Would he quit in order to build on this thing between them? It wouldn’t be hard for him to find another job, maybe even a better one. He probably wasn’t even tied down by a non-compete clause as she was.
But their office without him in it would be like the Tin Man without a heart. Brooke decided she didn’t like that option either. She banged her head back against the corner in complete dismay. “Shit.”
21
FOR THE REST OF THE AFTERNOON, ETHAN CARRIED on with business as usual, but with a ton of weight lifted from his shoulders. He’d ambushed Brooke in the elevator knowing full well he could suffer death by handbag, and with the full intention of taking his punishment. Her attack of a different nature surprised and thoroughly pleased him. Until then, he hadn’t known just how deep his desire for her ran—something that was no longer a daunting chasm to explore.
They’d left the elevator on the fifth floor with immaculate clothing and a pact to spend the weekend together regardless of who won or lost. They’d get a nice room in the Florida Keys, cruise the sandy beaches, and possibly charter a fishing boat. After a few days of relaxation, romance, and a whole lot of exploration—mainly of each other—they’d face the coming week knowing by then if a relationship was possible.
With that in mind, Ethan worked hard to find the client that would secure his position as VP, knowing that Brooke was working just as competitively in the next cubical. However, the animosity was completely gone, replaced with subtle exchanges that reminded them of their private pact to rise above the competition. When they passed by each other, they’d steal a look. In the cramped space of the copy machine, they’d “accidentally” brush hips. When they committed their time to the two-inch file, their fingers happened to graze on occasion. He felt like a schoolboy who’d discovered girls for the very first time.
When they found themselves alone in the break room, anyone watching through the window would see two people going about their own business. It was the opportunity he needed to address a very serious issue, so he sat at the table sifting through the emails on his phone, doing his best to look inconspicuous while she washed out her coffee cup at the sink.
“Are you on birth control?” he asked.
“Mm-hmm.”
He stole a look in her direction. “Because I wasn’t exactly careful that last time.”
She turned slightly, her lower lip between her teeth. “I didn’t exactly give you a choice.”
He hid his smile.
“How is your lip?”
His tongue skimmed over the tender mark she’d left. “Thoroughly digging those fangs.” He couldn’t deny the gratification that accompanied his new battle wound. Brooke was still the same starchy, frustrating woman who’d figured out what buttons to push from day one. He found that he liked her that way—yes, he definitely preferred the Brooke with the ponytail and glasses and upturned nose over the sexy seductress she’d pretended to be for Roger.
She dried her cup and put it back in the cabinet. “So do we leave after work tomorrow or Saturday morning?” she asked.
“After work. That way, whoever loses won’t have a chance to change her mind.”
With a smirk, Brooke rose to the bait of his subtle hint. “You remember that when I have to drag you out of here kicking and screaming.”
He grinned. “You’ll be the one screaming.”
“I sure hope so.”
As she walked past him and out the door, Ethan checked the sway of her hips, her sassy round bottom, and the long, shapely legs that wielded amazing capabilities in bed…oh, yeah. Screw the competition, he’d lost to her the moment she became the woman in the darkroom.
Through the closing door, Ethan’s view was blocked by a beige suit. He snapped his attention back to his phone.
“Too late,” Roger said on the way in. “I saw that.”
Ethan ignored the remark, knowing full well he’d been busted.
“So, uh…,” Roger fed some quarters into the vending machine, “how does it feel wanting a woman you’ll never have?”
A smile curved his lips. “Still jealous, Kerrigan?”
Roger fished his snack out of the slot. “Not much anymore, but thanks for asking.”
Ethan preoccupied himself with an email from Harper. “Does that mean you’re sniffing up Shannon’s skirt now?”
“You shut up about her, Wolf.”
He looked up with raised brows. Guess that was a big, surprising “yes.” Letreece’s description came to mind and Ethan pictured a fuzzy cottontail floating in a tank of piranhas. “If the feeling’s mutual, don’t let Ken get wind of it,” he said on a helpful note.
“Like you wouldn’t rat us out?”
“It’s none of my business.”
Roger sat down next to him with a somber nod. “Thanks, man. Sorry I snapped at you.”
Ethan gave the man a thoughtful look. “How many times have you defiled that darkroom?”
“You mean recently or all together?”
He grimaced and continued to thumb through photos of his niece enjoying the various benefits of first-class travel. “Never mind, sorry I asked.”
The man shrugged and broke off a chunk of his candy bar. “When Mr. Monroe owned this place, it was sort of a secret mile-high club. Everyone wanted a piece of the action.”
“But not Brooke.”
“Hell no.” Roger chewed loudly. “Not for lack of trying on her fiancé’s part, though.”
As Ethan suffered yet another shock of the day, he kept his eyes trained on the phone, no longer seeing the images there. “Fiancé?” he asked.
“Yeah. It was Brandon’s way of trying to break through her ‘no sex at the workplace’ clause. But she hated the stigma of that darkroom and the fact that her dad turned a blind eye toward it; however, he did have some pretty satisfied employees.”
As the man rambled on, Ethan absorbed this new information with a grain of salt. This Brandon guy was yet another important piece of Brooke’s past that no one seemed to talk about, and she’d gone to great lengths to avoid using his name the night before. But that, at least, was easier to understand, especially if she was embarrassed about the breakup.
But why did they break up? The sex couldn’t have been all that great if she’d never had an orgasm until now. Maybe the man simply didn’t do it for her. Maybe he was a complete putz. The
sudden urge to compare specs with the guy had Ethan regarding Roger with a sideways look. “So, uh…what did this fiancé of hers do for a living?”
“He was the systems admin at the time.”
“Here?” When Roger nodded, Ethan asked, “Her father didn’t mind her dating a fellow employee?”
“Brandon was the exception. Her parents loved him, at least until he started coaxing other women into the darkroom. But he taught Brooke everything she knows about running the systems department.”
A sense of unease pervaded Ethan’s bones. Had he just heard right? Brooke knew how to run the systems department too? Though he wanted to dig further, that would probably stop the flow of information, so he took a different approach. “She mentioned having her hands in everything,” he said instead.
“Like what?”
“Like the creative department.”
Roger must have decided the subject was safe enough because he leaned in and pointed toward the general direction of Brooke’s desk. “That there is the most restless woman you’ll ever meet. She gets bored easily, has to try this and that.” He sat back once again, completely at ease. “Monroe Graphics was her baby, a place where she could dabble in everything and change it up when she wanted to. Toward the end, she was working on her dad pretty hard to add website design and security to our repertoire of services, which of course she’d head up. It was her new ‘thing.’”
His sense of unease doubled. If Brooke were to entertain the idea of hacking into his or Shannon’s files, she wouldn’t need Roger when she was fully capable of doing it herself. Was that why she had so adamantly defended Roger? Because she knew for a fact he wasn’t the one spying?
THAT SAME QUESTION STILL BURNED IN ETHAN’S gut when he found himself at Brooke’s doorstep once again three hours later. They’d agreed to stay away from each other until Friday after work when they’d toss their packed bags into one car and head off to a whole weekend of unmitigated play.
