“Or maybe this.” He jerked the lace down and replaced fingers with his mouth.
God, the man really did know what he was doing with his mouth. She pressed him closer, arching her back urging him on as he moved his attention from one breast to the next, sucking and nibbling and licking and setting her skin on fire. He lay across her this time, weight only on one arm, freeing his hand to add to the torment. He used his fingers as skillfully as his tongue, manipulating flesh and damp lace and driving her rapidly out of her mind. Her shirt was pushed down over her shoulders, trapping her arms mostly at her sides so that she couldn’t free her own hands to explore his skin. No, she just had to lie there and let him do what he wanted, which was appallingly sexy, the knowledge that she was half naked on his desk while he was fully clothed and in control.
Crazy, she told herself. Crazy to feel this way, to do this.
She turned her head, twisting in pleasure, and stared at the window. The sky was dark out, and against the blackness, their reflections were silhouetted on the glass.
Alex’s mouth on her skin, his body over hers. The dark gray of his shirt against the whiteness of her skin. A shudder rippled through her.
Hot.
So hot.
Too many clothes.
Once again she struggled upward, pushed him back so that she could set her arms free to tug at his tie and the buttons of his shirt. He didn’t protest, just helped her by tugging the cuff links out of his cuffs and tossing the shirt back over his shoulders.
She stopped for a minute to admire the sight bared to her eyes. Broad shoulders and equally broad chest, dark hair arrowing down to trail across a flat stomach and disappear into the waist of his pants.
He was definitely in shape. Perhaps not so tightly honed as the fittest of the players but somehow his muscles and skin were more pleasing. More real. She didn’t know what he did to keep fit … she’d seen him in action in the batting cages but slugging a few balls around wasn’t enough to give him the sort of body she was studying. No, that took more serious effort.
“Like what you see?”
She nodded, reached out, trailed a hand from his shoulder and down the line of his collarbone, echoing the path he’d taken. His nipples were flat and dark and she ran a hand over one, experimenting. Some guys liked it, some couldn’t care less. Alex sucked in a pleased breath and she put a check against “likes it.”
“Second base,” she said, half to herself. Her hand drifted lower, over the tightly braced abs, heading toward his waistband. His hand caught hers.
“I think that’s skipping a few bases.”
“I thought you said we could make up our own definitions.”
“I did. But you said no sex. And right now, if you touch me, I’m not sure I can keep my word on that.”
“Oh.” She pulled her hand away reluctantly, trying to remember exactly why she’d thought that no sex was a good idea. Complications, that was it. Seemed like splitting hairs considering their current state of undress but Alex was right. It was smarter to stick to slow.
“Besides,” he said, “I’m not done with you yet.” He leaned in and kissed her and then, just as she melted into him, slid his hand down and into her underwear. She gasped against his mouth and he laughed, flexing his hand softly, so that the heel of his palm pressed into her clit and sent a wave of delight shooting through her.
“I thought the next base was meant to be over underwear,” she managed as he did it again.
“Yeah. But I never saw the point of that one.”
She was sure he’d had no trouble getting into the pants of many, many girls back in high school. Still, as his fingers slid against her with unerring accuracy, she couldn’t hold a grudge against how he’d developed his skills. She was just damned glad he had.
She dropped her head back, squeezed her eyes shut, and let the sensations flow over her.
“Now that’s an expression I want to see more of,” Alex said softly. He moved his fingers slowly, his skin sliding easily against her as she grew wetter.
More. More sounded good. She made a pleased sound, lifted her hips, unable to think enough to figure out how to actually get more. Luckily Alex seemed to be doing the thinking for them both. His free hand flipped open her button and eased the zip down, so that he could move more freely. His hand slid down and one long finger eased into her, making her hips arch again as she sucked in a breath.
But then he withdrew his hand. Her eyes flew open. “Wha—”
“Don’t fret. I just want to…” He settled his hands on her thighs, coaxing them up. With quick tugs he managed to divest her of her boots and then her trousers. Leaving her in lace panties, her bra, and her shirt half hanging down her back. She should’ve felt embarrassed. Instead she just felt impatient.
One hand reached out and tugged at his waistband. “Come back here.”
He smiled. “Your wish is my command.”
God, she hoped so. Because she really needed his hands back on her. She wanted him to finish what he’d started. Not sex, no. But she wanted an orgasm. A glorious head-clearing orgasm. She got the feeling Alex knew enough to be able to achieve that aim in short order. He leaned in and kissed her.
“I don’t know what you’re thinking about,” he said, moving his mouth to her ear so the words were heat and breath against her skin. “But keep thinking it.”
He leaned forward and she leaned back, lying down against the desk, pulling him toward her. For one wonderful moment he was hard against her, her legs instinctively locking around him and pulling him closer, but then he was kissing his way down her neck, his hand sliding between them and back to the lace between her legs.
God. Yes.
That was what she wanted. What she needed. Her legs fell open, widening to give him better access as he teased her. Somewhere in the process she lost her panties too, and then as a second finger joined the first inside her, pressing up to a spot that felt so damned good she nearly arched off the desk entirely, his mouth moved lower still and his tongue rolled over her clit, and she started to scream before she remembered exactly where she was and clamped her jaw shut with a moan.
“God. Alex.” She kept the sound low but it was difficult. The combination of his mouth moving lazily against her while his fingers set up a rhythm expressly designed to drive her crazy sent spikes of pleasure up her torso and down her legs over and over and over again until she reached the place where the world narrowed to just her body and his mouth and the heat building and building and building until one final touch pushed her over and she came hard, stifling her cries with her own hand, sparks spiraling behind her closed eyes.
When she came back to herself she realized that they were both lying on the floor. She had no idea how she’d gotten there. One minute she’d been lying on his desk trying not to scream as he made her come and the next they were down here. But she felt too damned good to worry about what had happened between then and now. She would put it down to mystical postorgasm relocation and call it a win. Alex was on his back, arm beneath her neck. His breath came rapidly, and his heart pounded beneath her ear.
Holy crap, she’d just had … um, bases, with the man who sort of was her boss.
And it had been pretty damn good.
Crap crap crap.
She lifted her head from his chest.
“Just give me a minute,” Alex said with a dazed voice. “I need to catch my breath.”
She felt herself smile. She’d knocked the breath out of Alex Winters. It was a nice feeling. Even though it really couldn’t happen again.
“You rest. I’ll just, um.…”
“What?” He lifted his head, arm tightening. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“Back to work. People will wonder where I am. And where you are.” There were still a few people working at this now. Trying to make good with the new boss. Just like she was.
“Let’s hope they don’t reach the right conclusions.”
What did that mean? Wa
s he on the same page as her? Did he realize exactly how crazy they’d just been? The thought stung a little even as it made her sigh with relief.
“I know. That was sort of…”
“Fantastic?” He dropped his head back to the carpet, a smile spreading across his face.
“Reckless.”
“Nah. The door’s locked.”
“Doesn’t mean everyone in the building has gone deaf.”
“We were quiet. And most of them would’ve gone home by now.”
She didn’t want to think about being quiet, or about the taste of his fingers as she’d clenched her mouth around them to stop from screaming.
“We shouldn’t have been anything.”
“Okay, now you’re talking crazy. You can’t tell me you didn’t enjoy that. You did.”
“Maybe I was faking.”
“You weren’t.” He let go of her and she sat up, pulling her shirt around her.
“Okay, I wasn’t faking.”
His smile grew wider, more satisfied. “Then you have to admit, it was pretty good.”
It had been good. She would’ve spent a lot more time playing the bases way back when if the boys in high school had known their way around their territory as well Alex did. Damn. She stared at her panties where they lay on the floor, trying to gather her wits. “Boasting’s unattractive.”
“Maggie.”
His voice sounded serious. She looked up, met those very green eyes.
“Yes?”
“Stop freaking out.”
“I’m not freaking out. I’m just—”
“Freaking out. Don’t. This was a test run. I think it went pretty well but you get the deciding vote.”
Her eyes narrowed. “What does that mean?” Oh God. Was he going to go down on her on his desk and then just move on to the next sucker dumb enough to fall for his charm?
“It means I’m being a gentleman. As much as my instincts are telling me to finish taking off your clothes and have my way with you, that would only freak you out more. So, we’re not going to do that.” He rolled to his knees and started straightening his clothes.
“What are we going to do?” she asked, sounding more plaintive than she would’ve liked.
“We going to get dressed, we’re going to go back to work, and then you’re going to tell me when you’re ready for the second inning.”
“What makes you think there’s going to be another inning?”
He reached out, brushed his thumb along her lip. She shivered, breath catching.
“That.”
“You’re pretty cocky, aren’t you?”
“Sure. But that’s what you like about me.”
She didn’t even try to suppress the eye roll. “You’re also delusional.”
“Maybe.” He stood, then held a hand down to her and helped her to her feet. “But you seem to share my brand of crazy if I am.”
Chapter Eleven
The next day Alex fought a battle between necessity and memory. He’d just about coaxed his brain back into focusing on the budget forecasts in front of him, instead of reconstructing what he and Maggie had been doing on his desk the night before, when Mal and Lucas appeared in his doorway.
He waved them in, reaching for his best “I didn’t do anything and you can’t prove it” expression. His desk was back to its usual organized state, no sign of the chaos he’d caused. There hadn’t been much sign of Maggie either today. Avoiding him, it seemed. He frowned down at the pile of printouts in front of him.
“Hey,” Mal said, “What are you reading?”
“Budgets,” Alex said.
Mal looked hopeful. “The one I sent you for the new security system?”
Alex shook his head. “Nope, that one’s about five down in the queue. This is the operating budget for the stadium catering.”
Lucas came up beside Mal. “Sounds riveting. Did you get my e-mail about Doc Jones’s team analysis?”
“Also in the queue,” Alex admitted.
“What the hell have you been doing today?” Mal asked.
“Reading,” Alex said firmly. “Lots of reports. And a ridiculous number of meetings. Believe me, you two are not the only ones who want my attention.” What little he had of it today. Pity the one person he wanted to give said attention to was not asking for any of his time.
“Yeah, but we’re the only ones giving you ridiculous amounts of money for this little venture,” Mal said, his expression only half joking. “Doesn’t that move us up the queue a little?”
“Yes. That’s why you’re only five down the list, not twenty-five. Any higher than that then you’re going to have to try and bribe Gardner.”
Lucas shrugged. “I have to get back to the hospital. Was there anything else you needed me to do today?”
Alex thought for a moment, still not even sure what he was meant to be doing. His mind was still full of Maggie. Of dark eyes and soft skin and little moans that made him—
Mind on the job.
Lucas. Right. Nothing sprang immediately to mind. “No.” He figured that getting rid of the two of them was the best way to ensure neither of them caught on that there might be something they needed to wring out of him.
“Okay then.” Lucas spun on his heel. Then turned back. “Oh wait. Tomorrow night. Football. No can do.”
“Why not?” Alex asked. He’d sweet-talked the owner of the Giants into giving him seats in the owner’s box for a play-off game. A way to be seen, with bonus football thrown in. Sure, it wasn’t as good as baseball but …
“Big surgery tomorrow. No way I’ll be done in time.”
Well, there was no arguing with that. For Lucas, business trumped pleasure every time. It was that pesky Hippocratic oath of his.
“I have to bail too,” Mal said.
“What? No. I don’t want to go on my own.” It was far more fun with at least someone he knew to drink beer and yell at the refs with. Particularly surrounded by football fanatics rather than baseball.
“Ask someone else. Maybe even a girl,” Mal suggested.
“Why can’t you go?”
“Because you insisted on us buying a death trap and I have things to do to stop us all dying in a fiery ball of pain.”
Alex frowned. It was a glib answer. Might be true or might be Mal getting up to something. Well, he wasn’t going to push right now. That might lead to one of those discussions about things he didn’t really want to discuss. “The point was for the three of us to go and get some publicity.”
“So, take Maggie,” Lucas said. “Still shows team spirit, plus she might know more people there than you do.”
It was a tempting idea. But he doubted she’d go for it. “Me showing up with Saint Maggie might start some publicity of the wrong kind.”
“Not if you keep your hands off her,” Mal said. He frowned suddenly. “That won’t be a problem, will it?”
“Keeping my hands off her? Nope,” Alex lied. His mouth might be a different story. “But she’s determined that everyone knows that it’s strictly business.”
“So, take Maggie and flirt with someone else,” Lucas suggested. “That should divert any rumors.”
“Oh great. Then it will be ‘playboy’ Alex Winters screwing around when he should be focusing on his new baseball team.”
“Yeah, but they’ll love it anyway. The press always do.”
“The press might. The other owners might not.” The vote was weeks away. He was determined not to jeopardize his numbers if he could help it.
“Well, it will put their minds at ease that you’re not violating Saint Maggie,” Mal said easily. “That ought to help on that front. Lesser of two evils. Plus, you never minded being called a playboy before.”
Actually, he had. It was stupid and juvenile and, hell, he never ran around on the woman he was seeing. If there had been a few of those in the last few years, well, nothing was wrong with that. But he really didn’t like the idea of Maggie thinking that that was who he was.
Still, he couldn’t come up with another argument against inviting Maggie, and his backbrain was coming up with a hell of a lot of reasons why it might be a very good thing once they were out of the spotlight after the game. It was cozy in the back of his town car and maybe he could even coax her up to his apartment.
Easy, boy.
“Fine, I’ll take Maggie,” he said, trying to still sound annoyed.
“Prettier than the two of us,” Mal said.
“Prettier than you,” Lucas said with a grin. “Me on the other hand…”
“So sad, still delusional,” Mal retorted.
It was an old joke. It had started with bets over pizza and beer and trying to get pretty girls in bars to pick who their favorite of the three was. The score was pretty even actually but Lucas did have a slight lead. It was those damned blue eyes. Girls were suckers for them.
Personally, Alex was growing pretty fond of brown. Deep, deep brown like the grain on an old oiled wooden bat. And on that thought, he brought himself up short before he could get too sentimental and sent his friends on their way so he could go back to trying to focus on the damned budgets.
* * *
After a day of trying not to think about Alex and practically diving beneath her desk every time she heard his voice, Maggie gave up and decided that if willpower couldn’t drive away the memory of Alex’s mouth on her, then good old-fashioned sweat might.
But after ten laps of the field with some old-school U2 pounding in the earbuds of her iPod, she was tempted to admit defeat. Not least because her legs were burning and she was sure she’d sweated half her body weight despite the frigid air. She really had gotten out of shape during her last push at school and the subsequent vacation.
Damn all cheese and gelato to hell.
She gritted her teeth, cranked the volume up another notch, and forced herself to keep plodding forward, counting strides with each puff of breath that formed ahead of her. Then she nearly had a heart attack when Alex loomed up on her side, almost stumbling as she leaped sideways with fright.
She ripped the earbuds loose. “Are you trying to get Maced?” She made herself start jogging again.
The Devil in Denim Page 15
