by Brux, Boone
Skin like the satiny petals of a rose, eyes as green as emeralds, breasts like firm melons.
“Melons?” She pulled back and looked at him. “I was going with the rose petals and emeralds, but you lost me on the melons.”
He scowled. “Did I say that out loud?”
“Yeah.” She trailed her thumb along his lower lip. “I love that you’re open with your feelings and not afraid to express yourself. It’s so different from when you’re at work.”
So different from every other time in his life. Not like him at all—ever. He pushed away his confusion and returned his attention to her body.
If she wanted him to express himself then that’s exactly what he would do for the rest of the night. By tomorrow morning there would be no doubt about who she belonged to.
Chapter Four
Nikki opened her eyes and stared at the unfamiliar ceiling then realized where she was and smiled.
Turning slightly, she watched Tor sleep, deep breaths moving his chest evenly up and down. He looked relaxed for once. Her smile widened. She must have exhausted him last night.
Her gaze tracked to the expansive windows, and she noticed the line of pink tinting the horizon. She pondered what she should do. Would it be best if Tor woke with her curled around him? Or maybe she should strategically position herself so when he opened his eyes he found her asleep in a sexy pose?
She breathed into her palm and sniffed. Why did people do this? It seemed physically impossible to smell one’s own morning breath. Hers always smelled good, and she doubted that was the case.
A pleasant ache throbbed through her entire body when she shifted. No sexy pose. As much as she’d enjoyed last night and though she still desired him, her poor body couldn’t handle another round of Tor’s amorous attentions.
She studied his peaceful face. Even asleep he was impressive. He was the kind of man who liked things on his terms, but he also liked a challenge. Last night had been a surprise and she’d willingly, even enthusiastically, encouraged his every whim. Though good in the heat of the moment, would he be as interested if she was at his beck and call for everything in his life?
Her brow furrowed. No, work was one thing, but she wouldn’t fawn over him in their private lives. At least not until she knew if he’d meant all the things he’d said last night.
He’d been so different—almost too different—and she still couldn’t figure out what had triggered the change. Call her skeptical, but time and time again life had burned into her brain that one could never be too cautious. Plus, she’d seen other women throw themselves at Tor and though he remained polite, he expertly dodged their advances and suggestions.
It would probably be better if she went home, showered and changed for work, and then waited to see how he treated her when he saw her at the office next. Would he blow her off too or would he walk up behind her and pull her into his chest? Yes, it was best to see how he played things first before throw herself at his feet.
Making sure not to wake him, she eased back the covers and climbed out of bed. Her clothes lay in a pile nearby, everything except her jacket and panties. She quickly dressed and crept out of the room and across the quiet foyer where the doors to the elevator still stood open. She scooped up her panties, slid them on, and then snagged her jacket. Unable to bear the thought of his jacket wadded up and wrinkled, she tiptoed into the bedroom and hung the elegant garment over the back of a chair, smoothing out the shoulders.
With one final glance at Tor, she left the bedroom, gathered her shoes and climbed into the elevator. Let him wonder what her reaction would be for a while, though she doubted she’d be able to play it as cool as she hoped she would.
She released the lock button and punched the number fifteen, starting the car on its downward trek. One stop to pick up her purse from her office, then home for a quick shower. It was still early, and she prayed she didn’t run into anyone—namely Demetria.
The bell dinged and the door slid open. Distant humming from a vacuum sounded from down the hall. She scurried to her desk and snagged her purse from the bottom drawer. The mirror on the opposite wall reflected her image when she straightened. The sight made her pause. Despite her messy hair, wine stain, and raccoon eye makeup, she looked good—really good.
She skirted the desk to stand in front of the mirror. “Man, I should get laid more often.”
Pink blushed her cheeks and her skin looked like porcelain, enhancing the sparkling green of her eyes. Whether from happiness or the workout that had gotten her blood pumping, the results were clearly noticeable. She gave herself a nod of approval and walked to the elevator.
Today she’d treat herself to a taxi—after all, she deserved it. The vacuum’s drone grew louder, spurring her across the lobby. She punched the down button three times and waited, checking over her shoulder to make sure the cleaning crew wouldn’t catch her.
She shifted from foot to foot. “Come on. Come on.”
It shouldn’t matter. She was a grown woman. Still, she’d rather nobody else knew of her rendezvous with the boss—at least until she was sure that she and Tor were taking things to the next level. The doors opened a few inches and she shoved her way inside, attacking the L button until the doors closed. Now, if the elevator would cooperate and give her an express ride to the lobby, she’d be home free.
The car lurched, picking up speed. Her stomach did a flip, and she grabbed on to the railing to steady herself. Maybe elevators were like the Internet. The fewer people who used them, the quicker they ran. Within seconds the car slowed and the doors opened onto the sleek wood-paneled walls of the elevator foyer. She tucked her hair behind her ear, straightened to appear more confident, and walked into the lobby. Nobody was there, not even the security guard at the desk.
I should report him for leaving his post, but why ruin a great day by being a bitch?
The noise from the traffic billowed around her when she opened the thick glass door and stepped onto the sidewalk. Even for this early hour it was warm. A thin layer of exhaust and damp air settled against her skin, making her long for a shower.
No matter what time of the day, there were always people on the streets of New York. She hoped she could catch the next cab to pass her. She’d barely raised her hand when a yellow cab screeched to a stop in front of her. Surprised, she jumped back to avoid getting hit.
The driver hopped out and bustled around the car to open the back door. “Good morning, Miss.”
“Uh, good morning.” She slid onto the cool leather seat and pulled her feet inside, resting her purse on her lap. The heavy scent of vanilla mixed with the cool air from the vent, filling the cab.
The driver slammed her door and hustled back to his side of the car. Once inside, he turned and smiled, his teeth strikingly white against his tan skin. “Where to?”
“I’ve never been given curbside service before.” She gave him a wary smile. “Are you new to the city?”
“No, Miss, been here twenty years.” His smile broadened. “Can’t help but pick up a beautiful woman.”
Beautiful woman? Though her complexion was peachy, there was no doubt she looked like a drunken prom date. “Uh, thank you.”
“Now, where to?”
She gave him her address and in record time the cab was screeching to a halt in front of her building. Maybe the quick elevator ride, nobody in the lobby, and the string of green lights were coincidences. It was as if the planets had aligned to give her a perfect day.
She paid the driver, adding a hefty tip to keep the good karma flowing, and entered her building. Energy pulsed through her so she decided to take the stairs to her seventh-floor apartment. She sprinted up the steps and with a little too much exuberance, let the metal stairwell door slam behind her. She cringed. Most of her neighbors were probably still asleep.
Her hand dove to the bottom of her purse, feeling for the keys to her apartment. The metal jangled and slipped just out of reach. She really needed to clean out her bag. Oftent
imes it served triple duty. Purse, lunchbox, travel carrier. There was no telling what toxic waste lurked in the deep recesses of her bag.
She stopped in front of her door, still searching, when a deadbolt clicked behind her. Nikki frantically groped for her keys.
“Aha!” The familiar voice of her neighbor and best friend, Stacey, pinned her in place. “Thought you could escape the walk of shame, did you?”
Nikki slowly turned and gave Stacey a tight grin. “No, but I was hoping.”
“I have the hearing of a bat.” Thick, chocolate-brown waves of hair that kept Nikki in a state of constant envy cascaded around Stacey’s face and shoulders. She was a hot Latina, Bronx born and raised, and was cleverer than every other attorney at the firm she worked at. She leaned her shoulder against the doorjamb. “Okay, spill. Who was he?”
As much as she tried, Nikki couldn’t keep her sudden grin from spreading into a satisfied smile.
“No.” Stacey popped upright. “No way.”
Her friend was the only person who knew about her obsession with Tor. Nikki nodded. “Yes way.”
“Oh my freakin’ goddess of sex!” She shuffled across the hall in her panda slippers and hugged Nikki. “I want details.”
A man Nikki had never seen before stepped from Stacey’s apartment. He slipped a wrinkled T-shirt over his head and closed the three feet between them to lean in and kiss Stacey on the cheek. “I’ll call you later.”
“Uh-huh.” She didn’t bother looking at him and absently waved good-bye, which looked more like she was shooing him away.
Nikki’s mouth dropped opened, and she pointed to the stranger’s retreating back. “Who’s that?”
“Oh him?” Stacey waved her hand in the air again. “He’s just an intern at my firm and is going back to Ohio or Idaho or Iowa in a week. Sweet, but not my type.”
“Nice.” Nikki turned and shoved her key into the lock, pushing her apartment door open. Though she wouldn’t call Stacey a slut, her friend was freer with her affections than Nikki ever dreamed of being. “What’s his name?”
“You ask too many questions.” Stacey followed her into the apartment.
“Really, asking his name is too many questions? Do you even know his name?”
“Of course I know his name. Brad.” She closed one eye in concentration. “Or maybe Chad.” She shook her head. “Who cares? We had sex, not mingled at a meet and greet.” Stacey headed for the coffeepot. “Besides, you were going to tell me about bumpin’ uglies with Mr. Gorgeous.”
“Was I? I don’t recall agreeing to that.” She dropped her purse on the hallway’s wood floor and walked to her bedroom. Though not nearly as posh as Tor’s penthouse, her apartment was spacious by city standards and reasonably priced—by city standards. The warm yellow walls always had a welcoming feel when she came home. “I need to shower.”
“Fine, you shower. I’ll bring you coffee when it’s ready.”
Nikki undressed and tossed her clothes into the growing pile in the corner of her bedroom. She grabbed her green velour robe and shuffled into her bathroom. Sprays of hot water massaged her back and neck, washing away all traces of her glorious night with Tor.
A hand holding a cup of coffee appeared through the shower curtain. “Drink and start talking.”
She took the mug and sipped. Even the coffee tasted better today. “What can I say?” The porcelain cup clanked when she set it on the edge of her tub. “It was incredible.”
“I need more. Incredible how? Are we talking missionary position or whipped cream and circus clowns? How was his body? Everything you imagined or do those Armani suits hide a beer gut?”
Nikki laughed and rinsed her hair. “Whipped cream and circus clowns with an encore of bareback horse riders.” She squeezed a blob of shampoo into her hand and lathered her hair. “Seriously, the man is a freak of nature. He must spend all his time working out when he’s not at the office.”
“Who made the first pass?”
“Him.” What felt like tiny little butterflies fluttered at the memory of their time in the elevator. “Definitely him, but…”
“But what?” Her friend’s voice carried a note of impatience.
“It was weird. He’s never acted like he did last night. The new creative director was flirting with me, and Tor seemed to get really jealous.”
“That’s a good thing, right?”
“Usually I’d say yes, but we’d been at a dinner meeting and there was wine and Tor might have been a little—”
The shower curtain ripped open. “Was he drunk?”
“Jesus, Stacey!” Nikki covered her boobs with her arm and crossed her legs in an effort to hide herself. “Shut the curtain.”
“Please, like I haven’t seen your shit before.” Nikki glared at her. “Fine.” The curtain snapped shut. “So was he drunk? Because that would be effed up.”
“I don’t know.” Nikki finished rinsing and shut off the spray. She stuck her hand through the curtain and was rewarded with a towel. After a quick rub of her hair, she wrapped the towel around her body and pushed back the damp plastic. “It didn’t seem like he drank very much, but he did stumble when he walked.” She stepped onto the green bath mat and picked up her coffee. “I’ve never seen him act like that. He couldn’t keep his hands off of me. Kept sniffing my hair.” Her eyes widened, and she took a drink of coffee. “I mean we made love all night long.”
Stacey waved a hand in the air. “Then he wasn’t drunk.”
“How do you know?”
“Trust me, drunk guys are good for one time before they pass out—if that.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right.” She opened the cabinet to remove tiny tray of makeup and set it on the counter, reclosing the door. “I hope you’re right.”
“I am right.” Stacey leaned her hip on the counter. “I just can’t believe it took him this long to get busy with you.”
“What can I say, the man is all business—most of the time.” Nikki smiled. “Okay, I’ve got to get ready for work.”
“Fine, I’ll leave.” Stacey walked to the door. “But promise me you’ll let me know if anything else happens today at work, and you’re going to have to do better with the details tonight.”
Nikki held up her hand. “Yeah, yeah.”
Her friend stopped and turned. “You should wear something daring today.”
“Daring? You mean slutty?”
“Daring, slutty, semantics. Remind him just what he had and what he wants to keep.”
Stacey exited the bathroom and a few seconds later the front door thumped closed. They’d been friends for years and Nikki was lucky she’d found a friend like Stacey. She was tough, smart, and completely loyal, though a little on the mouthy side. It had become standard practice for Nikki to vet the situation a little before she shared all the details with her friend and was subject to Stacey’s brilliant take on how she should handle things.
Nikki picked up the pink tube of mascara and applied a layer to her lashes. After a few swipes, she stopped and looked at her reflection. Maybe it was a trick of the morning light, but she really did look better than she ever had.
She gave a quick shake of her head and went into her bedroom, leaving her damp hair to dry on its own. The choice of outfits was few, as evidenced by the mountain of dirty clothes. There were three options total and only one fell into the daring department. Immediately she discarded the camo capris. Not professional enough. She stared at the black pantsuit she’d bought specifically for her grandmother’s funeral last year. Just looking at it made her skin itch.
Her hand caressed the form-fitting jade-green dress she’d purchased on impulse last Valentine’s Day, thanks to Stacey’s goading. It had looked so good in the store, but she’d never had enough nerve to wear it. She bent and picked up the matching pair of ankle-wrap heels. Why not? Shouldn’t the personal assistant to the CEO of a cosmetics company be chic and a little trendy? Besides, last night had given her just the boost of sexy she neede
d.
Twenty minutes later she stood in front of her full-length mirror, admiring herself. She’d opted to keep her hair down, hoping it made her look like she wasn’t trying to be sexy. Her heart raced at the thought of seeing Tor again this morning. Would they exchange secret glances or share naughty innuendos when they were in meetings? Would he trap her in the copy room? No, scratch that. She didn’t do copies, but maybe closed-door meetings would become more frequent. With a deep breath, she pivoted and headed to work.
Once again everything seemed to be working in her favor. The subway was crowded but a good-looking businessman offered her his seat. Never in her years of riding had that happened. The flow of the morning sidewalk traffic deposited her at Kythera Cosmetics in record time. She’d even received a few whistles of appreciation. Maybe she should start paying more attention to what she wore to work if this was the response she received. No wonder Demetria was constantly throwing her junk out there. This response might prove addictive.
Of course, the only person she really wanted to please was just a few floors away. Her stomach twisted with nerves at what his reaction would be to seeing her again in the cold light of day.
The elevator doors opened, and she stepped into a nearly empty car. Only an older gentleman in a crisp navy suit occupied the elevator. His gaze traveled over her with obvious approval.
Memories from the night before circled through her head, making her smile and bite her lip in an effort not to sigh. Stepping back, she leaned her butt against the silver railing.
The beat of her heart quickened the higher the elevator climbed. What would it be like when she and Tor first saw each other? Would he openly acknowledge their relationship, or be discreet and professional?
The bell dinged and the doors slid open, revealing Demetria standing at Nikki’s desk. Her bliss bubble burst. “Damn, and I was having such a good day.”
