Provoke Me

by Cari Quinn

  “Always.” She inclined her chin. “What, do you have some other menial task for me to take care of? Maybe a back hall to sweep?”

  Taken aback, he belatedly noted the glow of humor in her whiskey eyes. She was keeping up their public persona. Fight, fight, fight. Except now he got to enjoy making up too.

  “I didn’t realize you had a problem with anything I asked you to do, Ms. Crossman.”

  “You didn’t? Where have you been these past three years?” She made a tsking sound in her throat and turned away, offering him a prime view of her ass in her tight little jeans as she bent to shelve books. She even wriggled it, the wench.

  His cock jumped as if she’d switched a lever. “Actually there is something I’d like to discuss with you.” He kept his tone cool and businesslike while his blood pumped like lava in his veins.

  “So discuss. I’m listening.” She glanced over her shoulder and rimmed her lips with her tongue. “Mostly.”

  “In my office.” On my desk, while I’m fucking you senseless.

  “What time is good for me to come…by?”

  He fought a grin and spoke conspiratorially as he leaned close. “Don’t you mean for you to come?”

  “We’ll both come. Promise.” She turned around, wedging him up against the shelf for a brief, hot moment before she glided away. “Sorry, sticky tongue. When should I stop by?”

  “About noon. I should be ready for you then.”

  Her gaze dropped pointedly to the bulge in his pants. “Looks like you’re ready for me now.” She smiled. “At your command, sir,” she added with a saucy wink.

  Suppressing a groan, he turned away. What was he supposed to be doing again? Work. Right. Yeah.

  Spencer managed to make it around the perimeter of the store, even held a few semi-coherent conversations with his staff. His erection dissipated once she was out of his sight but the memory of her silky pussy wrapped around his cock that morning was permanently engraved on his brain.

  He was in deep and sinking deeper all the time.

  He’d never enjoyed flirting with someone as much before. Kelly’s mind was so fucking sexy. Her sarcastic retorts fired him up almost as much as seeing her naked.

  Well, not quite, but a lot.

  Reluctantly he returned to his office and the work waiting for him. When his stomach started to growl, he glanced up, startled to see it was past noon. He’d been flying through reports and spreadsheets most of the day. Finally he was making some damn progress. In two days he’d be on a plane to Virginia, just as planned.

  He would not mess up this expansion. Everything would happen on time, on budget. No matter what it cost.

  As for Kelly, he’d have to figure out a way to let her know what was happening without spilling everything. He hated lying to her. He also couldn’t stand the idea of letting her go. Not yet.

  Maybe not ever.

  A soft knock drew his attention as his head pounded with the realization of what he’d just thought. Dear God. “Come in,” he muttered.

  The door opened and a feminine hand waved a brown paper lunch sack. “Hungry?”

  For you.

  “Get in here,” he said.

  Kelly slipped inside and shut the door, leaning against it for a long moment while they eyed each other. She wore a scoop-neck top that showcased her graceful neck and highlighted the alluring dips around her collarbone he loved to nibble. He’d never seen her look quite so daisy fresh.

  If he didn’t look too closely at the shadows under her eyes.

  “You need to get more sleep.”

  She set the lunch sack on his blotter and then eased up on the desk, staying on the opposite side. As her scent wafted over him, his cock nudged his zipper, already expecting attention. One sniff of her was all it took.

  “And sacrifice the few hours we have alone?” She shook her head. “Not gonna happen. Besides, who are you to talk?”

  Excellent point. He’d never been one to get a full eight, but his recent pace was insane. Three hours’ sleep was a good night lately.

  He sent the email he’d just completed and swiveled his chair toward her. “We’ll both get a chance to rectify that this week.”

  Deliberately he kept his gaze steady on hers. He waited to see any of the usual female guilt tricks—downcast eyes, a quivering frown, even a resigned sigh. Once those started, the door began looking mighty appealing. But she only nodded, her gaze clear and direct.

  “I’ve missed my bed,” she admitted. “Yours does weird things to my back.” She danced her fingertips over his knuckles, sending heat straight into his balls. “Or maybe it’s you who’s screwed up my back. You do tend to be awfully…enthusiastic.”

  He barely heard the last part. She missed her bed? When had a woman ever said that to him before?

  “Well, anytime you want a change of venue, let me know. You’re the one who refuses to let me inside your apartment.”

  She flashed him a relaxed smile. She couldn’t have been further from the edgy, desperate woman he’d had sex with in his home office that morning if she tried. “Testy, testy. I bet you’re hungry. Have you eaten today?”

  “No.” He shoved a hand through his hair and caught her staring. “What?”

  “Spencer Galvin, that looked suspiciously like a nervous tic to me.”

  “Yeah, yeah. So I happened to look at your file this morning.” He shuffled papers on his desk then glanced up to see her watching him. “Your birthday’s next week.”

  “You don’t say.”

  Under her usual sarcasm he heard an edge. “Not a fan of birthdays?”

  “Not particularly.” She gave a jerky shrug. “They were never a big deal in my family. My parents are in Sedona right now, singing love songs and playing guitar, so I’ll probably be on my own. I’m kind of used to them not being around,” she added quickly. “Actually I prefer it.”

  Uh huh. “Singing love songs in Sedona? Didn’t we leave the sixties behind a while ago?”

  “They’ve never grown out of their hippie stage.” Another shrug. “It suits them.”

  He leaned back in his chair. “Imagining you coming from granola-eating beatniks with guitars is a hard sell. Sure you’re not adopted?”

  “That’s a question I think they’ve wondered themselves. They spent so much time high it’s possible they don’t even know.” She smiled brightly, too brightly, as if she’d just told the funniest joke in the world. But her eyes revealed her pain.

  He leaned forward and laid a hand on her thigh. “I could come back for your birthday. Just for the night. I could rearrange—” Her surprised expression stopped him. What was he saying?

  “No, no need for that. Thanks though. I’m sure birthdays bring back bad memories for you.” She tipped her head sideways and flirtatiously batted her lashes. “Since you’ve had so many of them and all.”

  He knew she was trying to snow him but it was difficult to think straight when she was looking at him like that. The more she teased him, the harder he got. She’d slicked her mouth with gloss and he couldn’t go another second without feeling her wet lips under his.

  “Come here.”

  She reached forward and tugged his tie, pulling him to his feet. “No, you come here.”

  He gripped her chin and seized her mouth in a hot, deep kiss. Damn, she tasted like heaven. She tangled her fingers in his hair, angling toward him until he heard something hit the floor. Didn’t know what, didn’t care. He slipped his hand under her top, already anticipating the feel of her warm, soft breast in his palm. Her nipple straining, yearning and tight between his fingers—

  “Hey, Spence. Want some lunch?”

  Kelly shoved him back so hard he nearly crashed into his computer. With his brain still careening from the kiss, he stared at his sister in the doorway, sure he should be doing something other than laughing.

  He was fucking laughing.

  Now Marcia wasn’t the only one gazing at him. Kelly was too as she struggled to pull down h
er shirt.

  “Don’t bother,” he said, attempting to compose himself. “She can figure it out.”

  Marcia stepped farther into the room and closed the door. “Guess you took my advice, huh, bro?”

  “Bro?” Kelly’s head swung back and forth between them so fast she’d soon have a sore neck to go with her sore back. “Did she just call you bro?”

  “I figured he’d told you.” Marcia smirked. “Since you’re so close and all now.”

  “No. I didn’t. Thanks for doing the honors.” He dropped into his chair and clicked on the email that had appeared in his inbox. As soon as he had, he wished he hadn’t.

  The Sinclairs would be in town this weekend. Diana’s parents. Fabulous. He hadn’t seen them in person for months. They had something important to discuss with him. Was he free for dinner tomorrow night?

  He rubbed his forehead and wondered how many more ways he could split himself before he had nothing left to give.

  “Let me get this straight. Marcia’s your sister. As in you share a bloodline and parents and Christmases around the tree.”

  “Can’t you see the family resemblance? We’re both strikingly gorgeous.” Marcia answered for him since he’d yet to drag his attention from the computer screen. “We don’t always do the Christmas thing in any formal way, since our parents and our younger brother live in Florida now. Hard to get us all in one spot, but—Spence, what the hell is so damn interesting on that screen?”

  “The Sinclairs are in town. Want to have dinner tomorrow night,” he said shortly.

  “Oh.” A pause. “Alone?”

  He knew what she was asking but he didn’t have an answer. Diana had left the company years ago to work on her marriage, far from the “stresses” of a high-powered, demanding job. Which was doublespeak for far away from him and the job she’d given up to keep him quiet.

  Yesterday he’d heard talk that Diana was back in town. He hoped to hell it was just gossip.

  His glance shot to Kelly. Her cheeks were still pink from their kiss. She looked soft and sweet and completely beyond his scope.

  He’d gone down this road before. One would think he’d learn.

  “I don’t know,” he said, closing the email without answering. “Did you need something, Marsh?”

  “Just wanted to see if you were up for coming out to lunch. But I see you’re staying in. So I’ll leave you alone.”

  When she shut the door behind her, he closed his eyes and leaned against his headrest. Had he ever been so bone-wearyingly tired? And since when did he host his own pity parties?

  “Yes, Marcia’s my sister,” he said after a moment. “Yes, I would’ve told you, if I thought it concerned us. It’s not really a secret. We just don’t go around telling every new employee who strolls in the door. Marsh asked me due to some events that occurred here to not advertise our connection and I do my best to abide by her wishes.”

  Talk about a nice way to put it. She’d all but screamed in his face when his affair with Diana had blown up that if he wanted to fucking end his career, he wouldn’t kill hers too.

  When he’d ended up with the RM position, she hadn’t changed her stance. To her mind, it had been touch and go and she didn’t want to be painted with his dirty brush.

  “Oh, back to the infamous situation. Must’ve been pretty big to have you still shaking in your loafers.”

  He narrowed his eyes but didn’t address her comment. He knew all too well her tendency to strike out like a wounded rattler when her feelings were hurt. What good would it do to dredge up all that business with Diana? It was over. It had nothing to do with them.

  “Marcia uses her ex-husband’s name and we don’t make an issue out of our relationship,” he said evenly. “It’s no big deal.”

  “To you it’s not. I get no say. Is that correct?”

  “About this, no. It’s not relevant. Go ahead,” he said when silence reigned. “You know you want to bite my head off. Just get it over with.”

  “No point. I understand perfectly. Keeping secrets is another way of holding on to control. If you’re the one with all the cards, you’re the one who wins. If anyone’s still playing.”

  Startled at the accuracy of the jab, he started to rise as she closed the door behind her. She didn’t slam it, but the echo reverberated just the same.

  Spencer stared at the lunch sack on his desk. Great. How many more ways could he fuck up in one day?

  He turned back to his email. He was about to find out.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “I’m not in the mood to go out to dinner, Lan. Not tonight.”

  Kelly pushed aside the box of macadamia chocolate chip cookies she’d been eating for the last twenty minutes. In less than a week, she’d gained three pounds. If she kept up this stress eating, she wouldn’t have to worry about her lack of curves ever again.

  “It’s important. I have news. Kel, please. I guarantee you’ll want to see who’s coming with me.”

  “Oh fab. You’re bringing a date and I get to be the clunky third wheel.”

  “So bring Spencer.”

  Kelly laughed. As if. “Spencer and I are no longer…” She sighed. “No longer. That’s all.”

  “What happened?”

  “Nothing. He wants me in strictly one way, which would be fine if I hadn’t suddenly gone all hormonal over him. It’s not as if he lied about his intentions. I guess I was just fooling myself. Based on what, I don’t know.”

  Alana would probably think she was overreacting about the sister thing. But it wasn’t just that. Spencer wouldn’t tell her what he had for lunch without her prying it out of him. Did she honestly want to live like that? Moving on now before she fell any deeper would be smarter all around.

  She’d scratched her itch. Sort of. And if she watched his ass when he walked past her at work, she was entitled.

  “Give it a couple days. He might come around. He, uh, sounds a little Type-A from how you described him.”

  “Yeah, just a tad.”

  Kelly whisked the cookie crumbs from her fingers and clicked off the TV. She wasn’t paying much attention to the soap rerun anyway. She had enough melodrama in her own life between her sick infatuation with her boss and dealing with her immediate supervisor, who’d shot her sly looks all afternoon.

  Too bad she and Spencer hadn’t been fucking on the desk when Marcia walked in. His sister would’ve had fodder for the rest of the year.

  His freaking sister. She still couldn’t believe it.

  “I’ve been there. You know that. How many losers have I chased after?”

  She almost said Spencer’s not a loser but she didn’t. She’d be damned if she defended him. “A lot.”

  “But that’s over now. And I want you to see why. You have to come out tonight, Kelly.”

  “If you tell me you’re engaged to Ramon, I’m going to kick your ass.”

  Alana only laughed. “Retreat. Eight p.m. Be there. It’ll be worth your while. This is the surprise to end all surprises!”

  Kelly found herself smiling as she hung up. Her best friend sounded genuinely happy. Good for her. She really hoped that happiness didn’t have to do with that skunk Ramon—who she’d never liked—but if it did, far be it for her to criticize. Her own life sucked donkey balls, so who was she to judge?

  With about as much enthusiasm as a woman about to be hanged, she dragged herself down the hall to the bathroom. She scrubbed herself liberally with her kiwi-strawberry shower gel and matching shampoo. After she’d dried off and blow-dried her hair, she settled on the second of her new acquisitions, a sexy little scarlet dress. The color brought a nice flush to her skin and made her eyes look bright.

  Talk about an amazing feat.

  Makeup and hair came next. Somehow she managed to twist up her short bob into a semblance of an updo and she liberally applied mascara, shadow and gloss.

  Not bad. She turned in front of the mirror. She looked…well, on the make. But that was okay. At least she’
d damn well be the hottest third wheel ever.

  Only problem? She couldn’t close her stupid dress.

  When the front door buzzer went off, she was attempting to turn herself into a pretzel to reach her zipper. She wasn’t nearly flexible enough. Plus her back really did hurt. Maybe she should pop some aspirin before she left.

  Right now she had to see who was ringing the hell out of her bell.

  She didn’t ask who it was. First mistake. As she pulled the door open and saw Spencer, her second was not slamming it in his face.

  Then again, that she couldn’t move for a full thirty seconds kinda inhibited any such gestures.

  “Hey.” He slipped his hands in his pockets and rocked back and forth on his heels as if he were powered by an invisible motor. “Thought maybe we could get some dinner.”

  All at once, he seemed to notice her attire. His jaw landed on the floor near her composure. “Headed out for the night?”

  Her mind whirled. She was half tempted to say she was going to Kink. Or out with some amazing man, maybe Paul. He’d stand in as a good imaginary boyfriend. Spencer would buy that too. He’d seen the way Paul had eaten her up—without benefit of a spoon—the night before.

  But as usual, the lies wouldn’t come. “I have a dinner engagement,” she said after a moment.

  When he charged into her foyer, she stepped back to avoid being mowed down. “With whom?”

  “I’m not sure that’s any of your concern.”

  “Fuck yeah, it’s my concern. What happened to your one-man woman speech?”

  And so commenced the swearing. It was almost funny to learn how he worked. “I don’t have a man. You’ve made that clear.” She gave him her most fake smile, the one she’d modeled after Leigh. If any woman knew how to look completely insincere, it was her. “Now if you wouldn’t mind—”

  “I do. I mind very much.” He started to reach for her, but he stopped when she held up a hand.

  “Nope. Paws off.” She drew a triangle around her body. “This area is now officially off-limits.”

  Instead of rolling his eyes as she’d expected—she knew she sounded just a little ridiculous—he cocked an eyebrow and rocked some more. “You really are angry.”