“Sounds like a plan.” Elizabeth waved. “Now you go take care of that guy of yours. You don’t want to end up like me, do you?”
Mandy’s eyebrows pulled together over her button nose. “After that promotion goes through, I’m going to make you go out, meet some guys, have fun. Even if I have to drag you kicking and screaming.”
“First things first.” Elizabeth tapped the file. “But I get the message.”
After they said their goodbyes, Elizabeth ended up staring at the phone again. With a grunt of disgust, she jerked her gaze away and flipped open the file. With her sleek, blonde curls and slim-fitting, lemon yellow suit, April Anderson had been a fun surprise. The stylish owner of the national charter service acted more like a twenty-five-year-old, not a woman moving into her seventies as her web site bio stated.
Determined to keep control of her wayward thoughts, Elizabeth pulled out a note pad and started listing the services Harrison Accounting could provide. The most obvious thing, a different overall approach, including updated software, topped the list.
When a workman carrying a toolbox knocked on her door, she waved him in. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed him start on the outlet across from her desk. Was there something familiar about the way he moved? No, all workmen probably moved with those same smooth, efficient movements. Besides, the floor below had begun renovations last month and there had been a slew of workmen all over the building. She’d probably seen him around.
Either that or in the short span of a day, Jack Harley had made her annoyingly aware of the opposite sex. So much so that she’d begun to look at nearly every male human to see if he was also absent a wedding band.
One look wouldn’t hurt.
Admitting defeat, she turned her fascinated gaze to his sturdy shoulders. The masculine curve of his back arched pleasantly into his lean hips. His crouched position, as he bent to take the cover off the electrical outlet near the door, added to the effect of the angle.
His navy blue baseball cap hid his hair, so she couldn’t tell what color it was. Was it blond and a bit curly? Or brown and thick like Jack’s?
Elizabeth shoved the file aside, it glided across the smooth surface of her desk. Aside from the stack she planned to take home, her cherry desk was tidy as usual.
A can of pencils, sharp and ready for use, stood guard next to a stapler and a small canister of binder clasps. Her work surface reflected her life. Orderly and predictable. How else could one accomplish goals without order and planning? Without goals, where was the control? The focus?
The workman stood up, arching his back and raising his long arms overhead. He took his time, shifting from side to side. Elizabeth didn’t miss a single twist or turn.
Fluid passion blossomed in her belly and swirled through her, bringing back all the unfulfilled desire of the night before.
Her body stiffened with needy tension, while her mind flooded with the memory of Jack’s strong arms and the scent of his well-worn leather. She nearly felt the heavy vibrations of the motorcycle between her legs and the night air whipping past her flushed skin.
She groaned inwardly. She’d really lost it.
If one night with a man made her fall apart this way, she was worse off than she’d thought.
Forcing herself to tear her gaze away from the workman, she picked the Anderson file up again and swiveled her chair so her only view was of the wall at the back of her office.
“Workmen not on your list?”
Jack?
She turned to find him right in front of her, looming so close that his scent filled her nostrils. Navy jacket, light blue shirt, nicely fitting work pants and a glimmer in his green eyes.
Instead of giving her time to react, he curled his fingers around her neck. Excitement swallowed her whole. He burned a path of kisses down her throat. As his other hand took hold of her waist, she sucked in a shuddering breath.
The Anderson file dropped to the floor and the few pages she’d put together scattered. Reasonable thoughts, her doubts and hesitation about their relationship—or more accurately their ridiculous but emotionally dangerous situation—disappeared along with the loose sheets of paper.
“Sorry, ma’am. Didn’t mean to distract you from your work.” His masculine chuckle rumbled against her vulnerable skin. “I wondered if there was anything else that needed my attention.”
In spite of the stunning passion quivering through her insides, or maybe because of it, Elizabeth laughed. “Did you write this script all by yourself? You sound like some bad actor in a porn movie.”
“Watch many of those, Ms. Sewell?”
Her retort, of course not, caught in her throat when his hand slipped under her suit jacket to cup her breast. The warmth of his palm spread through her sheer silk blouse and her breasts swelled and her nipples peaked. Delicious rays of pleasure lapped over her. That moan she heard somewhere in the distance turned out to be hers.
“Hold that thought.”
He dashed away long enough to shut the door but she felt the chill of his absence. Elizabeth tensed with firm expectation at the slight click of the lock.
His mouth grazed her neck, while his fingers worked at the tiny buttons on her blouse. A dream-like haze settled across her as his sun-darkened fingers pulled the delicate fabric apart and the cool office air skimmed over her flesh. When he whispered his approval of her lace bra, her heart pounded heavily. She closed her eyes with a sigh of bliss.
This is crazy.
But oh, it felt so fine. Each place he touched softened and quivered until her whole body flowed with need.
When she stretched back, he gripped her waist and hauled her to her feet. She swayed but he held her steady, kicking her chair away as he murmured, “Let’s make good use of this beautiful desk.”
Once the chair was out of the way, he turned her around to claim her mouth. His easy kiss turned possessive and she gave herself over to his determined exploration.
But the hot strokes of his mouth were not enough.
Elizabeth fumbled with the brass buttons running up the front of his work coat, unbuttoning them as swiftly as her trembling fingers would permit. Reaching the last one, she shoved the jacket off his shoulders. It hit the carpet with a sturdy thud.
She yanked his shirt from his pants and greedily smoothed her palms over the flat muscles of his stomach. The compelling heat beneath her fingers tensed as he sucked in an urgent breath.
“Oh, honey,” he groaned. “Touch me wherever you want.”
His words emboldened her and she dropped one hand to cup his swollen penis. “Maybe you’re the one who needs fixing, Mr. Workman.”
She surprised herself with that but Jack made her act like a different woman. More than that, he made her feel like a completely different person. Instead of the careful, steady person she knew herself to be, he made her reckless and wanton. Hungry and demanding.
—
Elizabeth tasted even sweeter than Jack remembered. And the smell of her skin… He’d never get enough. She responded so eagerly to his hands and mouth, as though she’d been waiting for him. As she moaned and shifted, his heart rate kicked up a notch, sending blood rushing through his body.
Her unquestioning touch made his need ferocious, nearly made him forget his purpose. But his own satisfaction wasn’t important. He wanted to see Elizabeth frantic with longing and begging for him to give her release.
He stepped between her legs and backed her up against her desk. For the first time since he’d met Elizabeth, Jack saw the true benefit of organization. There was plenty of space for what he had in mind.
“Put your hands on my shoulders.”
She followed without hesitation and he lifted her until her hips rested on the edge of her desk. With her charming bottom precariously perched, she had to hold onto him to keep from toppling forward.
“Hold tighter,” he instructed.
When the grip of her hands tightened, he dropped to his knees and shoved up the hem of he
r skirt. His chest constricted when the glossy silk of her nylons ended to expose the smooth flesh above a lacy band. A triangle of blue silk and lace hid between her thighs, the only thing covering her delicate pussy.
Tracing the top of her stockings with his thumb, he lifted his head and found her watching him.
Her eyebrows pulled together, she bit her sweet bottom lip. “I don’t usually wear—”
A thick growl rumbled in his throat. “Wear these from now on. Every time I see you in a skirt, I want to know you look like this.”
Her gaze darted from his eyes to his mouth, then to his hands.
He inched her skirt up higher, gliding his palms across the smooth softness of her leg. With his thumb, he pulled the tiny scrap of lace aside to expose her nest of dark curls.
—
Elizabeth knew what Jack was about to do yet she couldn’t quite believe it. She scanned her office. Everything looked the same but it was like a dream.
No, it was a dream.
That made it okay to let go.
When his warm breath caressed the inside of her thigh, she squeezed her eyes shut, blocking out the mundane reality surrounding her.
The heat of his mouth fueled the fire burning within her and her whole body jerked each time his mouth inched closer to her center. Her entire being focused on that point of potential contact. Each time he eased away from her clit, Elizabeth tried to shift her hips closer but his secure hold on legs kept her still.
Finally, he flicked his tongue across the sensitive nub, causing every nerve ending in her body to fire at once. He licked her lightly, gently, the teasing pressure only making her need more.
A rush of liquid heat flowed from deep within her center. She was ready, so ready. She thrust her hips forward, urging him to quell the spiraling need spinning through her. But instead of fulfilling her unspoken plea, he rose to nuzzle her neck, still firmly holding her legs in place.
“I think I’ve located the problem, ma’am,” he drawled. “Would you like me to take care of it?”
If Elizabeth hadn’t been teetering on the brink of oblivion, she would’ve laughed at his ridiculous line. But as it was, all she could think about was the fierce throbbing between her legs.
“Well, ma’am? I can take care of it, you just say the word.”
A moan rolled from her throat. After a moment, she managed to form words. “Yes, please take care of it. Now.”
As soon as she spoke, he ducked his head and closed his mouth over the lace fabric of her bra. He clasped onto her nipple, pulling it deeper into his hot mouth. Each tug pulled an invisible thread connecting to her feminine center, making that liquid heat pulse. Elizabeth squirmed, trying to find a source of pressure for her clitoris but Jack held her legs firmly to the desk. Instead of seeing to her need, he took his time, enjoying the way her nipples became rigid for him. After he finished with the first breast, he moved to the other and went through the same, intentional torture.
When he lowered his head again, the cool office air whispered across the damp lace of her bra and she sobbed as needy tension stiffened each nerve ending. Finally, he lowered himself and his tongue sought out her most sensitive spot. With deliberate, strokes, he licked her there, softly and much too slowly.
Elizabeth wiggled but he kept her immobile with his hands. With each minuscule movement of his mouth, the exquisite pressure built.
The release started so gradually she winced with expectation. He rasped his tongue across her nub, pulling the sensation from deep within her body.
Her climax built, she dug into his shoulders for support. He continued to caresses her with his mouth, shattering her world, until her legs jerked and a soft mew of satisfaction eased out of her.
As her pulse began to slow, Jack straightened and took Elizabeth into his arms. She put one foot on the floor and leaned against him. The heavy, rhythmic thumping of his heart rumbled in his chest.
His need hadn’t been fulfilled. Elizabeth wanted to take him to the edge with the same explosiveness he’d given her. She needed to satisfy her man.
Not her man but this man.
“You’re so sexy sweetheart,” he said, his words coming in gasps. “I could spend a whole night tasting you and listening to you pant for me.”
The husky timber of his voice growled through his chest. Her longing to please him, to let him know what she wanted to do, battled with hesitation.
Jack Harley turned her into another person. There was too much disorder. There were too many unanswered questions. Her thoughts held her captive and kept her from acting out her primal need to reach out to him.
“Did I catch you off guard?”
Although her limbs hung limply at her sides, her brain was beginning to function. Elizabeth returned his smile. “You did.”
He pinched a strand of hair between his fingers and twisted it gently. “When you turned around, I thought you weren’t interested.”
“Oh.” She was amazed to find herself blushing. “I was trying to ignore you.”
He tugged lightly on the strand. “Ignore me?”
“Let’s just say that I did notice you.”
His mouth shifted into a cocky grin and he lifted the lock to brush it across his mouth. “So workmen do it for you?” The loose ends of the strand fluttered when he spoke.
Elizabeth struggled to keep up with the conversation. “Do-do it for me?”
“Make you hot.”
“It’s never been that way before.” She yanked the hem of her skirt toward her knees but it stuck stubbornly to her legs. “I guess I’ll have to start paying attention from now on.”
He dropped his hand to curl it behind her waist and pull her off the desk until her body flattened against his. His other hand tugged at her skirt to pull it the rest of the way down. “I want to spend more time with you, Elizabeth.”
She wanted that too but the swirl of emotions spinning through her was too unsettling. She wanted to be the one who called the shots. Summoning the unyielding control that always got her through, she said, “We never did work out an arrangement.”
He frowned. “Yeah, about that—”
Her desk phone rang and out of habit, she answered it.
April Anderson’s bright voice came back at her. “My goodness, why are you still at the office? I was sure I’d get your voice mail.”
Elizabeth cast Jack an apologetic smile. After he nodded, she turned, smoothing her rumpled blouse. “Is there something I can do for you, Ms. Anderson?” she asked, fumbling with her buttons until Jack took over the task.
“Well, not right this minute but I thought of a couple questions and some ideas. I wanted to put them on your voice mail, so you could get started on them Monday.”
Elizabeth glanced at Jack. He’d moved away after finishing her buttons to tuck in his shirt. Disappointment pulled on her. While Ms. Anderson was still talking, she covered the bottom of the receiver to whisper, “This’ll just take a minute.”
He eyed the scattered file contents on the floor and answered softly, “It must be important. We’ll talk later.”
Before she could say anything to stop him, he crossed the room, grabbed his tool box and jacket and then slipped out the door. The sway of his broad shoulders disappeared around the corner.
“Okay? How does that sound, Ms. Sewell?”
Panic swamped her when she realized she hadn’t been listening. To cover her lack of attention and with the hope of letting her potential client know how important her account was, Elizabeth said, “Please, call me Elizabeth.”
“And you call me April. That’ll be fine. You know,” she continued with a slight edge in her voice, “I think it would be better if we spoke in person. Would that be all right with you?”
Elizabeth’s shoulders slumped. Whatever April Anderson had to say it did not sound like good news.
Things had not gone as planned.
Gripping the steering wheel much too forcefully, Jack maneuvered his truck through the parking st
ructure attached to Elizabeth’s office building. After he paid the attendant, he turned left onto the service drive and headed for the freeway.
Friday night rush-hour traffic clogged the lanes. A mix of sedans, dusty pick-ups and sports cars rushed past Jack. Once he settled in a middle lane, his thoughts shifted back to Elizabeth.
Jack’s plan—surprise Elizabeth, seduce her into accepting what they had going on needed exploring and then tell her the truth, that he was not an escort but an attorney who found her wildly sexy—had fallen apart.
He wanted to convince that fervent woman to give him control over her desires. He wanted her in his bed but he wanted her there knowing exactly who he was.
Honesty.
The importance of the word had weighed on his conscience too long already but nothing about that woman made him act properly.
Take what just happened, for example.
The plan had not included a passionate kiss that erased his good sense, or a desk, or, heaven help him—stockings. That lace hiding under her skirt proved his theory. Elizabeth needed a man to show her how to let go. A man to love her.
The driver of a dented black truck with a boat trailer blared his horn. Jack checked the speedometer. Fifteen miles under the speed limit. Wake up man. He hit the gas.
He’d planned on telling her but the challenge of her sitting behind that desk, looking so untouchable, made him determined. To break the rules. And touch.
Even afterward, he’d still planned to tell her but that stupid phone rang. Next time he’d unplug it. If he got lucky enough to have a next time. The longer he waited to tell her the truth, the more doubtful that became.
A woman like Elizabeth Sewell wanted control. The longer things went before he told her the facts, the more emotional the whole situation would become. Truth be told, he was pretty pissed at himself for letting things go as far as they had. He could only guess at how angry she was going to be. Rightfully so.
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