Intensity

by C. C. Koen

  My body jerked at her unexpected attack. Not knowing this chick, I decided to proceed with caution and sat on the edge of the stool next to Mylaynee. “What do you mean?”

  Tanya leaned toward me. “Don’t play stupid with me, girl.”

  Mylaynee rose from her seat and pushed Tanya’s shoulder. “What the hell is your problem?”

  Tanya pierced Mylaynee with a scowl. “She’s the problem.” She pointed to me and gripped the edge of the bar. Her knuckles whitening as if she had to hold herself back.

  “Girl, you better check it. Linc finds out you’re talkin’ to her that way, you’ll be out on your ass faster than you can breathe,” Mylaynee announced before I could think of an appropriate response.

  What the heck was going on? Stunned, I couldn’t think of a comeback. Funny how your brain freezes in high-pressure situations.

  Tanya crossed her arms, brown eyes ablaze. “I’m not the new one around here. Linc would never get rid of me. I bring in lotsa business. Not everyone does what I do.”

  Not sure how to respond to that, my posture remained stiff and poised for any strike on her part. Regardless of the fact she looked like a biker, I wasn’t going to let someone best me. I kept my eyes on her while trying to figure out a way to defuse this situation.

  Mylaynee beat me to it. She stretched her body closer to Tanya. “This new girl is exclusive. She isn’t going anywhere. Your ass can be replaced.” She snapped her fingers and in her graceful manner sat back down with total confidence.

  It was so cool she had my back. I tried to send her a telepathic thanks, but she remained fixed on the target taking shots at me.

  Tanya leaned so close I could smell her foul breath. “Exclusive? No way.”

  Mylaynee transformed to a cat that caught the canary. “Ha! Believe it,” she shouted, slapping the glass top, a ricocheting thump that caused Georgie and me to flinch.

  At that, I turned my head toward her, bewildered at this woman’s continued defense on my behalf. Yeah, this girl could take my back any time. Awesome.

  Tanya glared. “You’re exclusive with Linc?”

  I nodded and glimpsed between Tanya and Mylaynee, trying to figure out if this discussion had come to an end or if I should prepare for a bigger problem.

  Tanya barked, “You got to be shittin’ me.” She shook her head. “Wait till B.B. finds out.”

  I guess Tanya wasn’t ready to shut up yet. Just as I gathered my thoughts, the door to the office opened and slammed shut. Linc strolled toward us and asked, “Everything set for the night, ladies?”

  In unison, we bobbed our heads.

  He reached up and tugged on my hair before placing a few strands around my ear. Slow and purposeful, he inched closer and blazed a fire-scorching kiss on my lips.

  Tall and imposing, he delivered a stare at Tanya that could melt the paint off walls, flicked a glance at Georgie and Mylaynee, and winked at me. “Have a good night, ladies.” He exited the stunned quiet lounge, leaving a silence behind that continued long after his departure.

  I’d already knocked twice, but Linc didn’t answer. As I turned to leave, the door opened, and he scooped me up and tossed me over his shoulder. “Hey, put me down,” I tried to yell, but the wind had been knocked out of me on impact, making my attempt more of a garbled groan.

  Instead of complying with my request he chuckled all the way into the bedroom, and catapulted us onto the feather-soft bed, my stomach leaping and bouncing with our bodies. “How was your night, beautiful?”

  I took several gulps of air before replying. “Busy, it flew by.” My senses primed, I inspected his stretched and relaxed state. Impossible to believe, but casual wear fit him better than the custom-made suits he wore. His T-shirt had the arms cut off and a tiny slit at the top exposed the little hairs I first saw in his office. Faded black shorts displayed fabulous toned thighs that could no doubt crush a soda can in one squeeze.

  Reminiscent of Hercules, his bountiful hair and sculpted frame taunted—touch me, I dare you.

  Eager to do just that, he beat me to it by sucking on my shoulder. He slid his tongue across it, glossing over the invisible marks he outlined earlier and drawing a line along a thrumming vein on my neck. In a swift roll, he aligned me on top. My head spinning from the sensual sneak attack and his woodsy-fruity cologne, I grasped the sheets, and in the process latched on to a hunk of his free-flowing hair—both silky and soft.

  “You need anything for your place?”

  Obviously, his mind wasn’t in the gutter like mine. I tried to ignore the hard body beneath me and downplay the effect by propping my chin in my hand, and taking my time to produce a sane response. “It’s nice…and quiet. Thank you by the way for Monique.” I couldn’t wait to see how our combined designs turned out. Gram and I had lived on a tight budget. Our small home contained a lot of second-hand furnishings, but had been well loved. Even so, I couldn’t help feel a little giddy about the thought of new and designer.

  He gripped my neck and rubbed his thumb along it in tiny circles. It didn’t help my concentration one bit. “Let me know if you need help with anything, okay?”

  “I’m good. I told her how much I liked the couch in your office. She said she’d try to find one. If it’s anything like yours I’ll end up falling asleep when I’m reading.”

  He squinted. “You like to read?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What kind?”

  Uh oh. I blushed, glancing at the wall as I mumbled, “Uh…romance novels.”

  His firm grip clasped my chin, redirecting it. “Don’t. You can tell me anything. Don’t be embarrassed or afraid.”

  I didn’t know what to expect of someone who owned this type of business. At first, I pictured an icky Hugh Hefner, instead got luscious Linc. His drool-worthy appearance captivated me, but so did his generosity and thoughtfulness. It made me think no matter what I revealed, he wouldn’t judge. He wasn’t that type of man.

  “I’m addicted to them. I know it sounds like I’m living in a fantasy, but the stories, even the erotic ones are great.”

  Did that just come out of my blabbing mouth? My face heated and must be scarlet red from the way my cheeks burned.

  A wicked grin spread across his mouth. “Erotica huh? What turns you on, beautiful?”

  My gaze dashed to the wall, the windows, and the floor. I dropped my face in my hands, burying them in his chest.

  Ugh, he drove me crazy.

  Any other woman would’ve performed a thousand erotic acts with this man lying beneath her. But no, what was I doing? Hiding my freaking face! Stupid, Serena. All these years you could’ve had experience. It stunk being a virgin at this moment.

  He wrapped his arms around me and squeezed. “When you’re ready and feel more comfortable, I want you to tell me, okay?” He kissed the top of my head.

  That action seemed even more humiliating, and I sank my cheek further into his chest. He wasn’t trying to embarrass me, just curious I suppose.

  “Let’s go to bed. You sleeping in tomorrow?”

  His bulging chest felt pillow soft, making me drowsy. I could stay here all night. Right in this spot. Did he ask me a question?

  “Roll off, let’s get undressed.”

  My head popped up.

  In one swift move, he rolled us both over, and without dropping me, propped me on my feet.

  A bead of sweat trickled from my nape, down my spine, and into my panties. Yeah, like I needed more moisture there.

  He took hold of both of my hands and set them on his chest.

  “I want you to undress me.”

  Oh. My. God.

  “Huh?” I squeaked.

  Wake the heck up, girl. Man wants naked. Shake a leg!

  He slid my hands downward at a snail’s pace, resting them at the bottom of his shirt.

  “Take it off,” his raspy voice instructed.

  Oh Lordy.

  My brain engaged—happy dance commencing.

  As I pulled the jers
ey higher, I skimmed my knuckles over each ripple on his ribs. His arms rose and gave me a full-on, front-row view of tight, ridged abs. The shirt slipped through my fingers and melted to the floor.

  Damn. Double Damn. This man needed his own freaking calendar.

  When you died, was it possible to go to heaven and hell?

  My eyes didn’t know what to examine first, but I tried to focus. The path I chose started with his broad shoulders—large enough to support you, yet soft enough to cuddle. A well-honed, wide chest with curly black hair sprinkled across it must have taken hours of weight training to sculpt into perfection. Arms pulled taut at his side, the veins curved downward at an angle and spread across his sturdy hands. The pièce de résistance and mentioned in erotica novels time and again, I called it “The trail to nirvana,” and he had it dipping past the band of his shorts.

  Oh yeah, girl, you needed to wake the heck up and live more. Real life was so much better.

  “Now my pants, Serena,” he said in a low, soft voice.

  My gaze tracked the line of dark curls up to his face. The green flecks in his eyes more prominent than before, as the blue shimmered on the outer rim.

  My smile wavered, and I reined it in. Lips parted, I drew in a huge gulp of air. Blood rushed to my head, making me a little lightheaded since I’d held my breath for too long.

  I cleared my throat and set my hands at the top of his shorts, shocked by the bit of confidence I seemed to find. Then I dropped to my knees and looked up.

  “Serena,” he choked out on a gruff reply. Eyes closed, he sucked in a ragged breath. His hands clutched my shoulders and squeezed.

  The view from down here and this close—spectacular. I wanted to nuzzle my nose in that spot right—there—his fine-haired belly button and then—

  “Take them off.”

  When I glanced up, a gasp rushed out of me. His eyes—lust? No, it couldn’t be. Before I had more time to think about it, his hands gripped mine and pushed. Elastic-banded shorts didn’t take much force, and they pooled at his feet.

  I stared at the carpet and almost laughed, because the picture of what I must look like seated, head bowed at the feet of a gorgeous man brought to mind—a concubine. My sex-starved body and brain liked taking me on this crazy journey.

  “Look at me, Serena.”

  As if my body responded to orders given only by him, I lifted my head.

  And descended to hell for sure.

  Sprung free, his shaft stuck out like a divining rod, pulling every drop of saliva out of my mouth. Virgin or not, his manly goods deserved a label—IMPRESSIVE. I guess the saying had been true…big feet…big…

  Trim black hair coated the base and little patches played peek-a-boo around each sac.

  “Is this your first?”

  His abrupt and unexpected prompt broke my trance. My attention lifted up to his watchful gaze. His hard-to-read face no doubt already knew the answer. I glanced back down, getting another eyeful before mumbling, “Yes.”

  “Get up, now.” His tone, louder than before, had me standing in an instant.

  I should’ve been alarmed and kept quiet, but instead spoke first. “Is something wrong?”

  He shook his head and got in bed. With an arm propped behind his pillow and the comforter covering him up to his chest, he watched me like I was an intriguing and perplexing documentary.

  My gaze dropped to the floor; a sinking feeling formed in my stomach. The glittery gold sparkles on my dress caught the light from the nightstand. My hands wrapped around my middle, protecting and hugging tight.

  “Come to bed, Serena.”

  I plodded to the other side and plunked down with my back to him. The darkness outside matched my mood. Gloomy. Light from harbor lampposts created shadows in various spots along the boardwalk, mirroring the mystical form lying behind me, and the reflection I kept glancing at in the window.

  I unzipped the dress, and it fell to my hips. Crap. I didn’t wear a bra with the strapless outfit, and my string-bikini underwear was thinner and more transparent than dental floss. All my clothes were in my apartment, and I hadn’t thought to bring anything up here. Nothing I could do about it now. I wasn’t about to ask for something to put on and add to the humiliation. I pulled the garment underneath me and let it fall to the floor. Tomorrow, I’d plan ahead and bring something to sleep in. On my next trip to the Goodwill, I’d get a robe.

  A finger skimmed my lower back. “When did you get the tramp stamp?”

  Seriously? Okay, call me naive. I didn’t know people called it that when I got it.

  “Six months ago,” I countered, like getting inked had been routine for me. Ha! He’d never know.

  “What language is it? What’s it say?”

  I smiled and my retort rushed out before giving it much thought.

  “Hmm, if I told you then I’d have to—”

  He burst out laughing so hard the bed shook, registering at least six points on the Richter scale.

  As I turned toward him, I made sure to keep my chest covered by my arm. “You don’t think I’m serious? I have connections, you know.” I giggled, because his hearty chuckles made it too hard to resist.

  His arm covered his eyes as he continued to laugh, and that was all I needed to sneak under the comforter, pulling it up to my chin. I willed my mind off the deep voice that echoed in the room and the naked centerfold behind me. Yeah, good luck with that. Every movement he made seemed hardwired to my body.

  His hand snaked around my waist, coming to rest between my breasts. Snuggled along my back, his bare chest and everything aligned at my rear. “Good night, beautiful.”

  I closed my eyes and hoped he couldn’t feel the trembles rushing from my pinky toes to temple.

  “Sweet dreams, Linc.”

  Bright sunlight woke me. Pillow shoved to the side, I looked for a clock. Ugh, adjusting to a new schedule stunk. My usual bedtime had been around midnight, but now it didn’t come until two thirty. On days I had to be at the Millers’ by seven, the less than five hours of sleep left me feeling hung over, and I didn’t even drink anything. Thank goodness I’d reserved Tuesdays and Thursdays for bookkeeping, giving me a chance to sleep in. When daylight hit me though, my brain didn’t agree, it decided I had enough and wanted me to get up. Great, so much for that plan.

  I threw on my dress and entered the cook’s dream kitchen. A note taped to the best appliance in the world caught my attention. Someone should encapsulate coffee makers in gold or platinum since they provided a treasure the majority of the population couldn’t live without.

  Holy crap, a tan mug with a green “S” on it had me grabbing the counter and my chest at the same time, a shaking hand on each. Dang it, why did he do that? If I had experience, I’d know what it meant. In two days, I’d received a brand new wardrobe, a rent-free apartment, and an interior designer who had plans to paint and install new flooring and furniture. Now this. The small gesture meant more to me than all the rest. Often, the unplanned, spontaneous deeds were the type that brought immeasurable joy and in some instances, instilled hope.

  Focus, Serena—you’re here for one reason. Falling for a man is not in the plan.

  I needed to guard my inexperienced heart. Otherwise, I’d end up devastated when living here came to an end.

  He’s my boss, being nice. That’s all. It’s no big deal, right?

  I fisted my hand and used it to knock some sense into my brain. A busy day ahead of me, I walked back to my apartment with a full mug repeating, he’s a good guy, he’d do it for anybody, it doesn’t mean anything.

  Oldies rock fueled my mad typing skills as I hammered away at the accounts. Several abrupt knocks stopped my bobbing head and progress. When I opened the door, my stomach took an immediate three-and-a-half inward somersault dive. A sweaty, flushed Linc stood there with his arms spread across the narrow doorway, splaying him like an eagle soaring through the sky. He grabbed me around the waist and hauled me forward, kissing me with such vigor, I h
ad to hold on to his hot, wet neck for dear life so I wouldn’t fall as he tilted me backward.

  “You aren’t in my bed. What the hell?”

  I stared, lips parted, still bent backward with his gorgeous, sticky body melting mine. Caught in his all-consuming, mind-bending spell, I couldn’t figure out my name, the day, year, or even recite the alphabet. All my brain saw or could say—Linc, Linc, Linc.

  My eyes did function though, and noticed two protruding nipples on his skintight T-shirt. If I took a nip right there, what would it taste like? By some miracle his question registered, and I responded after a lengthy pause. “Didn’t you see what I wrote on your note?”

  “No. When you weren’t there, I came here.” He clasped his hand in mine and pulled me into the living room, setting me on his lap. Wrapped in his arms, his body heat warmed me up even though his damp shirt seeped through mine. I couldn’t care less.

  “I had invoices to work on.”

  He nodded and stared in my eyes. I could see the wheels spinning in his brain, formulating something. “Do you like accounting?”

  “Yeah, it’s what I’d like to do full-time.”

  His hold tightened on my ribs. “Why’d you quit school?”

  I wasn’t expecting that, or the gigantic hole bursting wide open in my heart when he asked it. Avoidance became my best option, and the turquoise butterflies flitting across the computer screensaver looked fascinating enough, better than his expectant stare. When I didn’t answer, he grasped my chin and redirected it toward him. “I told you, don’t be embarrassed or afraid to tell me anything.”

  Yeah, easier said than done. Uncomfortable where the conversation might lead, I got up and approached the folders stacked twenty high. “I’d rather not talk about it.” I picked up a pencil, about to scribble a note in a client’s file, when he removed it from my grasp, tossing it down. It kept rolling and plopped on the floor, right where my eyes remained.

  He grabbed my hand and squeezed it, his voice gentler and softer when he spoke again. “What happened, Serena?” His eyes, a sky blue today, showed very little green. Weird how they seemed to change whenever we talked. Maybe they were like mood rings.