Carnal Risk

by Kym Grosso

  Garrett saw the flicker of fear in her eyes. He’d never intentionally set out to intimidate her, but the reality of his life was paramount to protecting every last soul who worked for him.

  With her free hand, she wiped a tear, looking away from him. She took a deep breath, and returned his gaze.

  The emotion he saw inside her caused a stir of arousal. Goddammit, of all the times to meet someone, this was not it. Even though she feigned confidence, he knew for a fact that she’d never taken on such a big account. He’d promised Lars that he wouldn’t get involved with her, yet as he studied her face, he knew it would be a lost cause. Confused by his attraction, he focused his effort on cleaning her hand.

  “It looks like the bleeding has slowed. Just keep it under the water a second while I get a towel.” As he slowly released her wrist, he noted that she never took her eyes off him. Yet she submitted to his request…this time. No fighting or arguing. He couldn’t be certain if she was acquiescing because he’d scolded her or if she truly understood he’d meant what he’d said.

  Garrett slid open a cabinet drawer and retrieved a clean washcloth. After turning off the spigot, he wrapped the fabric around her hand, keeping pressure on the wound. He opened the bathroom closet door, and began to rummage through, in search of a Band-Aid. As he glanced back toward Selby, he noticed the look of shock on her face.

  “You have a lot of injuries around here?” she asked, her eyes wide.

  “Yes. No. Oh hell, okay, yeah, sometimes. Look, Selby, we really need to talk,” he hedged. He knew his bathroom supplies made it look as if he was stocking an ambulance. Accidents happened. Granted, usually not on the executive floor, but he liked to be prepared. And out in the field, he was more likely to play down an injury than run to get first aid in front of co-workers.

  Selby diverted her eyes, bringing her hand to her chest. The bright red stain on her shirt had begun to crust over into a deep shade of brown.

  “Your hand should be all right.” Garrett smiled as he set the butterfly bandage into place. “The patient will live. This time.”

  “Thank you,” she said, shifting on the counter.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” he asked, placing his palms onto her knees.

  “Um, out of the bathroom, I guess.”

  “No.”

  “No?”

  “Nylons in California?” he asked.

  “I’m sorry, what?”

  “You may be a transplant but I didn’t think these,” he tugged at her stockings, “were very comfortable. But you know what’s even more troubling?”

  “What? No wait, how come you know so much about what women wear on their legs?”

  “Many reasons.” He smiled. “But I think I’ll go with business. Yeah, that sounds good.”

  “Business?”

  “Fabrics. Plastics. Metals. Some materials, you want them hard, impenetrable. Others,” Garrett brushed the back of his fingers softly against her cheek, catching a stray hair that had come loose from her bun. His eyes fell to her soft lips and then met hers. “They’re designed to be soft but strong.”

  She smiled, silently watching him.

  “And these,” he pinched a stretchy section off her thigh and let it snap back into place, “hold particles. Like glass.”

  “Oh,” she replied softly. “I don’t think…well, I don’t feel a cut or anything.”

  “Let me have your shoes.” Before she could protest, Garrett inspected her pumps. He carefully removed each one and shook it over the trash bin. A ping resounded as pellets rained into the tin container. He set them on the toilet seat and then evaluated his next move.

  With her soft pink lips within inches, Garrett yearned to touch Selby, and not just a little bit. He briefly closed his eyes, and his recurrent fantasy flashed through his mind, of her bent over, while he slammed inside of her. He fought a smile.

  “Is something funny?” he heard her ask and his gaze beamed up to hers.

  “No, not funny. Something to look forward to, perhaps.”

  “What?”

  “About these.” He ignored her question and glanced to her legs. “They need to come off.”

  “What did you say?”

  “I think you heard me quite clearly. And since you aren’t going to be able to get them off without the tiny bits of glass digging into your skin, the question is, ‘How should we get these torturous things off of you?’”

  “Do you really think that’s necessary? Maybe if I lift up you could help me pull them off?” She raised her legs, and several tiny fragments reflected under the light. “Well, fuck. What am I supposed to do?”

  “Fuck? Hmm, that may be an option later but let’s get these off first, shall we?”

  “No, I just was saying…” she stammered.

  “I’m teasing you.” He paused. “Maybe. Let me ask you a question, Selby.”

  “Yes?”

  “Do you trust me?” He smiled as the idea came to him. She couldn’t possibly trust him yet, but oh, how she would learn.

  “I’m not sure. Lars trusts you.”

  “I’m not Lars.”

  “No you’re not,” she stated flatly.

  “Do you want to close your eyes or open them?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Now don’t shoot down this idea because I actually think it may be the best solution…all things considered.”

  “What is it? Just get them off.”

  Garrett turned his back and selected his instrument. Holding it up, he gave her a smile, hoping it’d take the sting out of his suggestion.

  “Scissors? Are you kidding me?”

  “Not in the least.”

  “No way.”

  “Way. They’re bandage scissors. We can start at your waist and slide straight down to your toes. They’ll peel right off without scratching your skin.”

  “Oh my God. I seriously don’t believe this.”

  “Think of it as penance for going into Evan’s office.”

  “About that…”

  “Yes, about that.” Figuring it was as good a time as any, he pressed her for answers. “Why were you in his office?”

  “In my defense, I told you I needed his laptop. There was something in the files you sent me. Tomorrow’s the board meeting and I didn’t want to be unprepared.”

  “So you broke into his office…the first day you come to work for me?”

  “I was going to ask you if I could have it, but you didn’t give me your cell phone number. I knocked on your door. You weren’t there.”

  “I saw you,” he replied, toying with the shiny metal instrument.

  “You saw me?” She rolled her eyes and set them back on him. “The cameras?”

  “Yes, the cameras. I see everything. You want to tell me why it couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”

  “There was no guarantee I’d see you before the meeting. You may not mind walking in cold to a board meeting, but that’s not how I roll,” she challenged.

  “I see,” he laughed. “Not how you roll, you say. I’m going to be setting some ground rules before you end up out the door.”

  “Ground rules?”

  “See, you do listen.” He smiled and held up the scissors. “Let’s table this, shall we? It appears we have more pressing business at hand.”

  “Do you know what you’re doing with those things? I probably could just scoot up.” She tugged her shirt out of her skirt and wriggled on the counter.

  “Hey, if you want to take off your clothes, then well, who am I to stop you, but I think if you just let me reach up…”

  “Okay.” She sighed. “I’ll hold out the waistband and you snip it. Agreed?”

  “It’ll be painless.” For you. As soon as he put his hands on her, it would be a race in time to control his growing erection.

  “Promise?” She gave him a small smile and lifted the side of her skirt so he could reach underneath.

  “You must learn to trust me, Miss Reynolds. Ea
sy now,” he instructed. His fingers worked quickly as he felt his way up her thigh to where she held the band taut. With a snip, he worked backward, cutting a line down to her toe. “Now the other side. Don’t move. When I’m finished, I’m going to lift you out of here, get you away from all this glass.”

  Garrett’s cock jerked as his wrist brushed over her leg. Clipping away, it only took him seconds to make his way down to her other foot. When he was finished, he placed the scissors on the counter. A pause of silence passed between them as his eyes met hers. Never shifting his gaze, he slipped his hands under her skirt. The warmth of her pussy heated his palms as he gripped the band, pulling it toward the ground. Sating his need to touch her, the tips of his fingers met her skin, carefully brushing the fabric aside.

  She willingly spread her legs, allowing him to drape the nylon away from her skin. Freeing her toes, he stood up, the sides of his abdomen grazing her inner thighs.

  “Put your arms around my neck,” he instructed. Without questioning him, she did as told, and he shivered in anticipation of what he could do with her once they were out of the bathroom.

  “You ready?” he asked, his voice low. He wasn’t sure whether or not he was asking to move her, kiss her, or fuck her. His balls tightened and damn, if his brain didn’t kick him right back in the nuts. Get her to the sofa and stop fooling around, G. Jesus Christ, Lars was going to fucking kill him.

  “Yes,” she breathed. She licked her lips. “Wait. Ready for what?”

  “This,” he responded, picking her up off the counter in one smooth action. He reached under her skirt, cupping her bottom, and plucked the offending stockings off, throwing them to the ground. He grunted as she wrapped her legs around him, the warmth of her core skimming against his abs.

  Garrett wasted no time getting out of the bathroom, depositing her gently onto his sofa. The sound of her soft gasp took him by surprise and he forced himself to remove his hands from her waist. Not wanting her to see the expression of desire on his face, he turned back toward the bathroom, kicking his sneakers off. A glutton for punishment, he returned to her side. Kneeling down on the floor, he checked her legs for abrasions.

  “Let me see.” As he ran his palms down her thighs, inspecting her calves and feet, she squeezed her legs tight together. He glanced up to her flushed face and knew instantly she was every bit as aroused as he was. She nervously tugged at her shirt.

  “You look good. I mean,” he coughed, “no cuts. Do you feel any pain? Anything?”

  “No, I’m fine, thanks. I feel like an idiot for making such a God-awful mess, but I think my ego will survive. Thank you, Mr.…”

  “Garrett. I think we’re beyond formalities now, don’t you?” He shoved up and went to the bar. Opening a cabinet, he retrieved a bottle of cognac and two tumblers.

  “Garrett, I’m sorry about tonight. I’m really sorry about your friend,” she paused, “Evan.”

  “Yes. Evan.” He hesitated, his back toward Selby, and took a deep breath.

  As he poured the amber liquid into the glasses, he tried to clear his head. Garrett had always been a rock for everyone around him. Nothing had shaken him. Painful memories from his teen years, the impetus for his penchant for extreme sports, came rushing back to him as if he was seventeen again. Brain surgeries, tumors, nearly dying. The brush with death had taught him that life was fleeting. The only way to live was to embrace life. Not just the soft fluffy parts, but the nitty-gritty in your face, near death experiences that brought euphoria to the surface, reminding you of why you were put here.

  Over the past fifteen years, he hadn’t given a thought as to whether or not to participate in high risk activities. Emotions weren’t a factor. Strategy and safety planning were integral to the sport. Evan had taught him that. But now, Evan was dead. A swirl of emotions had built inside of him. Grief. Anger. Confusion. None of it made sense. Any day, the prosecutor’s office would call, a determination of death announced.

  As he glanced to Selby, he couldn’t put his finger on what it was about her that had made him lose focus altogether. He’d been with many women, but he’d never been so attracted to a woman that he’d have stripped their nylons off with scissors. Shit, he knew damn well the entire scenario could have been avoided. He could have called up Rita from security to help Selby. But he hadn’t. Ever since that night in the club, fantasies had danced in his head.

  Catching her in Evan’s office had been unexpected. If she really wanted access to the files as she claimed, there was no security clearance that would afford her that information. The only people in his life who he’d given that top priority information to had been long time, trusted employees. Selby would have to earn her clearance with him and it would involve a helluva lot more than simply asking.

  As he turned to bring her a drink, he caught her staring at him. His eyes locked on hers. There was no way in hell he was going to be able to not have her. It was a matter of when, not if. But first he needed answers.

  “Selby.” He handed her a drink and eyed her with interest as she took a sip and coughed. “I think it’s time we had a talk.”

  Shaking his head, he purposefully sat on the chair across from her and took a swig. As her pink tongue darted over her lips and she ran a fingertip over the rim of the glass, one thought blew through his mind. He was so fucked.

  Chapter Seven

  Selby attempted to catch her breath as Garrett slowly poured their drinks. She wrapped her arms around herself, willing her hardened nipples to relax. She’d just experienced the hottest twenty minutes of her life. Unfortunately, they’d also been the most awkward. Her thoughts drifted to the shattered photograph, and she couldn’t help but wonder what the deal was with Evan. From the looks of the photo, he appeared to have been good friends with Garrett Emerson. Under any other circumstances, that alone would have given him credibility. But he’d used an alias, lied to her. Aside from his dubious motives, he’d had no long term plans of seeing her. He’d been a user looking to use.

  Why he’d done it was another question. Had he succeeded in stealing data? Found another hacker to do his bidding? The itch of curiosity in her belly wouldn’t be scratched until she unearthed every skeleton rattling in Evan’s closet. Selby considered telling Garrett about what his friend had done, but was reluctant to do so. Even though he’d almost kissed her, attraction wasn’t enough to shake the foundation of friendship. If Evan had perpetrated a crime, had sought Emerson Industries harm, she couldn’t make an accusation without evidence.

  Selby’s contemplation was broken by the sound of glass clinking. She lifted her lids, and studied the corded contours of Garrett’s muscular back. When he’d ripped off his shirt to stop her bleeding, she’d barely noticed the blood. Holy hell, the man must spend a lot of time in the gym. She’d had to resist the temptation to reach for his tanned abs, ones that looked as hard as granite. Licking definitely seemed a viable option, given how close her lips had been, but she’d behaved. As his fingers glided over her thighs in the bathroom, she’d grown wet with desire. She hoped he hadn’t noticed how she’d stopped breathing as the scruff of his beard had scraped her neck. When he’d picked her up, continuing to caress her legs, she’d tightened them, the throbbing pain of arousal rushing through every vein in her body.

  But now, the moment was gone. She sat alone, waiting to face the music. His silence told her that his lust had cooled. He’d been drawn into thought and when he turned to her, his eyes had grown weary. Garrett handed her a glass, and while she didn’t ever drink on the job, this seemed as good a time as any to break precedent. She suspected that by the time she was done with her assignment, she’d have shattered every last carefully constructed rule she’d ever put in place.

  As he sat back into his chair, demanding they have a talk, her stomach dropped. His voice brought her back into focus.

  “Ground rules,” he growled.

  Selby took a small sip and coughed. Ah yes, ground rules. She couldn’t suppress the small smile tha
t crossed her face, and she shook her head.

  “We can discuss whatever you’d like. But I’d like to remind you that I have a contract.”

  “Yes, I know what I signed. Correction, what we signed.” Garrett plowed his fingers through his hair and set his eyes on hers. “Confidentiality. Clearances. There’s a reason for all of this.”

  “As there is in every assignment I take,” she responded. “I’m sorry I went in his office, but I assure you I was just looking for the information I’m already supposed to have. I’m really sorry about Evan’s accident, but…”

  “What happened to Evan…if it was an accident…”

  “I know. Skydiving. But Garrett, I mean it’s kind of high risk,” she interrupted.

  “It’s none of your concern, Selby.” Garrett set his glass down onto the coffee table, hard enough that it caused her to jump.

  Without apology, he stood and walked over to the wall, which had built in shelves. He opened a drawer and retrieved a white cotton t-shirt. Mesmerized by his intensity, Selby stared as he dressed. She was almost relieved when his chiseled physique was covered, no longer distracting her.

  “Duly noted, Mr. Emerson,” she replied, slipping back into her work demeanor.

  “Rule number one. I decide what access you have and when. Until we know what happened, you will most definitely not have physical access to Evan’s office or any of his physical belongings, including his laptop.” Garrett didn’t miss a beat as he turned to her and continued, “I’m well aware of your, how should I say, ability to acquire his files by other means. So while I appreciate you attempting to get them in a legitimate way, you will not have access to all the files until I’m comfortable that you have a solid understanding of what we do here. Clearances only tell me that you can be trusted with information. They don’t tell me that you grasp why we are doing the things we are doing here. So for now, I need you to focus on infrastructure. Convince the board that the outsourcing is mutually beneficial for both our companies.”