The Geek Gets The Girl

by Michele Hauf

  Her breaths ceased for a full six seconds. She pounded her chest to kick her lungs back into action. Purse in hand, she staggered out from LeTrec’s office toward one of the beige cubicle walls, she clutched the edge as if it were a life raft bobbing in the ocean.

  She’d heard rumors the company wasn’t doing well financially because a couple of their branches were underperforming. And if a company exec were arriving to assess this office? That meant she had to make him believe they were worth saving. Because they were. They just needed a little tender loving care at the moment.

  Rachel was trying to hold it all together. Juggling. That was her strength. She loved working for Haute Heels. Small town girl from the States snags a job at a ritzy Paris shoe company? Hell, yeah. Two months earlier, she never would have thought she’d be managing an office instead of working in Marketing where her real strengths could shine. But still. She was a trooper. She didn’t do stress. Stress was not a word in her vocabulary. Instead, she confronted challenges.

  Stretching back her shoulders, she inhaled then exhaled long and deep.

  “I can do this. I need to do this. I am the best person for the job,” she said in a confident tone. “This company needs me.”

  Turning around, she braced her elbows upon the cubicle wall. One more deep breath for good measure. Poised for action, her feet remained planted. But seriously? What to do? She had to get her head together, assess the situation, and rally the troops.

  The troops had all left for the evening.

  “Chill, Rachel.”

  She exhaled again, finding a calm that had seen her through many a crazy office storm lately. There was nothing she could do until morning. And a good night’s sleep would put her brain back on track.

  With a decisive nod, she shut off the lights in the office, and headed down the hallway toward the elevator bay. When she saw the doors closing, she picked up speed, her steel heels clicking on the marble floor.

  “Hold it!”

  A foot jammed between the doors and they buffered open to allow her in. The bespectacled tech guy winked and flashed a grin. Oh, that stubble. Something so masculine about it. Very un-nerdlike.

  “Car park,” she said.

  The button was already lighted, but the doors remained open. This old elevator took its time with everything.

  Rachel had deftly avoided Zac throughout the day in an attempt to keep the red velvet door from bursting wide open. Because she knew one sniff of his spicy scent would lure her closer, making her forget her name and beg for his touch.

  And what was with that tie? She wanted to touch it. Or was it that she wanted to touch him?

  Tugging at the skinny black tie that should have been vanquished to the 80s hall of fashion shame, he then offered his hand. “Rachel.”

  She was about to correct him that Miss Parker was appropriate—or even, Mademoiselle Parker—but the sound of her name coming from those kissable lips made her silently offer blessings to some random Goddess of Self Control. Because she wielded it now to keep from gripping that tie and pulling him in for a kiss.

  He quirked his brows together in consternation. Thick, black brows that looked so…touchable.

  “Uh, right. That’s me. Rachel.”

  “Whew! I was worried you’d had a stroke for a second there.”

  Seriously? She was so off her game. And why was that? The guy was not even remotely of interest to her. She preferred hooking her men in the executive pool.

  The elevator doors slowly shut.

  “So tell me, Rachel, I’m having trouble understanding how an office in this day and age can exist with such old equipment. Personally, I’d brick your computer.”

  “Brick it? I’m sorry, nerd terminology is beyond me.”

  Zac lifted a finger between them. “I prefer the term geek. Nerds wear their pants to their armpits and belong in the eighties.”

  “Oh. Uh, sure.” But she caught his smirk and sensed he was playing with her. “Geek it is.”

  “And a brick means a fried computer. Best thing to do with a brick? Toss it or use it to erect a shelter.”

  “But my computer isn’t fried.”

  “In theory, no. But it could happen any day now. Your office should have desktop monitors with LED displays for the designers. Not to mention the entire network should be in a virtualized private cloud.”

  “I have absolutely no idea what any of that means.” But the tech-speak sounded so sexy, her nipples instantly hardened. “Trust me, I’ve submitted requisitions for updated equipment. The home office keeps telling me I don’t exist and thus have no grounds for such a request.”

  “You seem very real to me.”

  His eyes tripped down the front of her silk dress and strolled along her hips. A blatant assessment. But instead of offending, it reminded her how delicious his touch had felt.

  Please, sir, can I have some more?

  Rachel mentally slammed the red velvet door shut, and quickly offered, “I was hired into Marketing. When the manager quit a few months ago, he asked me to look after the office until his replacement arrived. I’m still waiting.”

  “That’s rough. Abandoned dreams?”

  “No, just delayed a bit, is all. And there’s nothing whatsoever wrong with management.” The control she’d been given these past few months was heady. Even if it felt as if she were a captain going down with a sinking ship more than sailing into shore. “Promise you won’t leave until you get our computers in tiptop shape? I’ve waited too long for IT to notice us. I don’t want to lose you now.”

  Oh, Rachel, the innuendo in that statement. No, she was not waiting for a man. She was perfectly happy without a boyfriend. She’d been raised by an independent woman who’d divorced when Rachel was three. Mom had taught her to be smart, use common sense, and never believe a man was required to ‘complete’ her. Go, girl power!

  But, like breathing, a girl did require sex. Orgasms tended to fuel her creativity. Seriously. A good sex life made for a happy, relaxed, and well-fueled brain. There had been studies to prove it.

  “You’ve got me for the week,” Zac said. “Though, like I said, bricks.”

  “Well, if you’ve some magical means to get the office new computers, then, by all means, brick mine.”

  His smile, though straight, arched up a thick eyebrow. The man was all spiky black hair, bushy brows and stern glasses. Severe. Yet his kiss-me-if-you-dare lips softened everything. Her knees felt bendy and supple. The velvet door popped open once more.

  A whole week to ogle this curious specimen of man who challenged her sensual restraint? Joy!

  No. Not joy. With a secret visit from a company exec on the roster, she would be too busy to notice the IT nerd—oops, make that geek. Which was a good thing.

  Seriously, she was not interested in this man.

  Maybe a little.

  If a little meant a lot.

  She inhaled a waft of spicy cologne and closed her eyes—until she realized he was waiting for her to speak.

  “Yes, uh…whatever you need this week, just ask. I may be very busy, though. So many tasks on my plate. Everyone from marketing is out sick or having a baby so I’m handling that, as well. There’s so much to do! The Paris market is a bitch.”

  “How so?”

  “Haute Heels needs to sex up their image. They’re a bit old-fashioned.”

  “Really? I thought shoes were innately sexy?”

  Rachel’s eyes landed on that alluring stubble. Mmm, rub that against my skin. Send shivers over my body. Sexy? Oh. Right. The company’s image.

  “Their ads are too focused on not offending. This is Europe. The French are all about the sensual. Flirtation and sex is in their blood. I wish I had more time to work on ad copy. We’ve a meeting at the end of the week with Les Grands Chaussures, an elite shoe store. I’m not prepared. Sorry. You don’t need me to dump on you.”

  “You’re obviously a very busy woman. Dump all you like. I enjoy listening to you talk.”

>   He did? Hmm… Rachel reached for his skinny tie and gave it an adjustment. Finally! She’d touched the tie. Brazen points for her. “You’re coming undone.”

  He caught her hand before she could tighten the knot further. “Leave it. This is how I relax at the end of the day.”

  He didn’t let go of her fingers. The fire in his touch moved up her wrist and arm as if fast-moving lava. Inexplicably compelled, she stepped forward—too close for an office discussion. He smelled like cloves and something darker. Licorice? Nummy.

  The red door jittered on its hinges.

  Of a sudden, the elevator lurched—and stopped. The door didn’t open.

  “Does this happen a lot?” he asked in a husky voice that was markedly tinged with want.

  His eyes traveled across her face and down her neck. The intensity in the air hung between them like an unspoken scream of desire. Rachel pressed her thighs together, the pressure teasing at her tingling apex.

  “Never,” she said dreamily. She shook her head out of the fog, a result of standing in his intoxicating scent. “Oh, you mean the elevator?”

  The man’s smile was small, but oh, that mouth. Kissable.

  “Yes, it does,” she said. “It’s much like our computers—aged and in need of repair. I get stuck at least every other week. Ten minutes max. Guess we’ll have some time to chat.”

  He leaned against the elevator wall. The slant of his body was easy and even made the line of his cheap suit look stylish. “What do you like to do after hours, Rachel?”

  “Uh…” Was he coming on to her?

  Of course, he was. And she was no slouch when it came to the pickup. Much as he enjoyed listening, Rachel decided it was time for action not words.

  She gripped his tie again and planted her mouth on his soft, yet firm lips. He mumbled something that may have started as a protest, but he quickly got over that. Their bodies touched at breast, hips, and toes. The outline of a pen nestled in his breast pocket rubbed her nipple, making it diamond hard. Or was that the incredibly hot kiss that was currently being returned as good as she gave?

  His wide, strong hand wrapped about her waist and eased her closer. She didn’t resist; instead, melting against the hard frame of his chest and hips. When had office geeks transformed from ninety-eight-pound weaklings to…this? Beneath the linen shirt, his pecs were solid as stone, and with every movement, the muscles flexed deliciously.

  “Mmm, you work out,” she muttered into his mouth. “I like that.”

  “And you are aggressive.”

  “Assertive.”

  “Same thing.”

  “Very different. You have a problem with confident women?”

  “I…don’t think I do,” he said, as if deciding he’d go with whatever the crazy woman tossed his way.

  She preferred the term assertive. And he would soon learn the difference between the two.

  An office romance? Never. But a little mixing it up in the elevator with the sexy IT geek who wasn’t an official employee of Haute Heels? She had never been attracted to the studious type. Too introverted, too closed off, too mental as opposed to physical.

  On the other hand, she did like to try new things. And she so needed to feed her creativity with an orgasm to get her through this week.

  Pulling from the kiss, she focused on Zac’s parted mouth. A hush of warm breath brushed her chin. She hugged her breasts against his chest, loving that he must feel her hard nipples, and offering him a teasing smile. He acknowledged the tease with a glide of his tongue over that thick bottom lip, and his hand journeyed up her spine, claiming, as he pulled her to him.

  Another kiss took away all thought. Answering the sudden, wanting crush of his mouth to hers, she slid a leg up and over his hip, pressing her palms to the elevator wall behind him. His hands skated up her sides until his thumbs hooked under her breasts and toyed with the underside of the lacy La Perla bra concealed by the silk dress.

  Rachel’s skin warmed as if she were lying nude beneath the noonday sun. She sighed into the kiss and deepened it. He tasted like espresso, and not the cheap brand Amelie stocked in the office breakroom. He must have stopped in at the café across the street that served freshly ground blends with a rich swirl of farm-fresh cream. Mmm. His tongue danced a shiver over her inhibitions.

  Seeking as much as she could take, she did not relent.

  He lifted her from the floor and she slapped a hand to his chest, gripping his unloosened tie to secure her hold. And then she didn’t want to secure too good a hold, because falling was exciting. Turning her to land her shoulders firmly against the wall, he held her along the thighs and she wrapped her legs about him. Her steel heels clicked together behind his hips. He undid the top buttons on her dress and licked a path down to the curves of her breasts. The demi-bra allowed his tongue to lash the crest of a nipple.

  Mercy.

  And she had been prepared to give this Monday a check in the Disaster column? This man could explore her software as much as he liked.

  “I don’t do this,” she felt compelled to say.

  “Hook up with a random stranger?”

  “You’re not exactly a stranger. I’ve known you half the day.”

  “True. So what is it you don’t do? Have sex in elevators?”

  “The office romance thing. I wouldn’t think of it—I shouldn’t.” She pressed the heel of a palm against his shoulder, but not with any conviction.

  “I’m not heading toward happily ever after here, Miss Parker. And you did start this.”

  “So I did. Call me Rachel. There’s something about your mouth. I had to feel it on mine. But we don’t have much time.”

  He slipped his hand up her skirt and discovered that she had not been in a mind to put on panties this morning. Hey, some days a girl honors her inner vixen. “Rachel, you are assertive and naughty.”

  As he nuzzled, gently biting kisses against her breasts, she spread her legs wider to allow him access. No password required. Because she needed right now. And he gave.

  Her core stirred, humming with anticipation. She’d grown wet for his touch. He groaned with pleasure as he slipped a finger inside her. Rachel clutched his hair, knocking his glasses lopsided on his face. With his free hand, he tucked the specs in his pocket, while his other found her swollen clit and rubbed over it with a slick thumb. She gasped at the mind-altering sensation of hot-wet-tingle-glee.

  Pressed tightly against the wall, she felt he anchored her there. Wishing the elevator would never whirr back to life, she knew their time was limited. Normally, she needed to focus and allow herself to let go in order to come, yet she was surprised by the sudden and insistent spinning in her core. Every part of her focused on the imminent big bang. It was so close. Zac played her expertly. As if he’d been there before and knew exactly how to speed up his touch, then slow it down, then a bit harder, then a little softer.

  “Oh…” She dug her fingernails in at his shoulder and the back of his neck. “Yes, need this. More than you know.”

  “Come for me, Rachel,” he whispered in her ear.

  And as softly as he’d commanded, she sighed out a lingering moan. Her body shuddered against his, falling into orgasm. The press of his lips beneath her ear electrified the sensations and prickled across her skin in the best feels-so-good-never-stop-yes-yes-yes way.

  “You come on strong,” he whispered. “But you end so sweetly. Good girl.”

  And the elevator jerked into motion. It descended the remaining two floors while Rachel’s heartbeats remained high in her throat, her body succumbing to the pulse-thundering release. The skirt of her dress fluttered down into place. Her fingers glided down the front of Zac’s shirt as he set her on the floor and kissed her mouth. A testing kiss. A sealing the envelope and sending it off kiss. She was too caught up in the moment to reach for that skinny tie and hold him there.

  The elevator doors opened to the carport, and with one last quick kiss, Zac said against her mouth, “See you tomorrow.”
Before she could reply, he turned and strode off.

  Rachel wanted to call out, Wait, let me get you off. Turn around is fair play, and all that.

  Instead, with a grin on her face, she sank to a squat. Her cheeks flushed and breaths panted. She reached up and pushed the hold door button. Whew! She was no interior decorator, but she would say the inside of the elevator was definitely in need of some red velvet.

  Zac didn’t get into a car, instead walking up to street level. Must be catching a cab. Didn’t he work in the building? Or maybe he walked home.

  So much she didn’t know about the man who had just worked her body as if he had known it forever. And yet, it wouldn’t have happened if she hadn’t made the first move. She had the control. She needed the control. Without it, she would never survive this rat race called life or succeed in the cutthroat business realm.

  So why did that small, swirling aftershock of orgasm toggling her core giggle right now and make her think she’d just relinquished some of her staunch need to be the one in command?

  Chapter 4

  Just as she was pouring a hot cup of chamomile tea—her pre-bed ritual—two raps pattered Rachel’s apartment door. She didn’t bother to call out or move out of the kitchen to answer it. She knew who it was.

  “Hey, sweetie!” Melissa called as she snuck inside and closed the door behind her. “Got some treats for you.”

  Melissa and Rachel had both moved into the building within weeks of one another, were former residents of the Midwest, founders of the Saturday Girl’s Nights Out, and were passionate observers of the masculine species.

  Already in her cotton pajama bottoms with hot pink skulls on a black background and a tank top that hugged her petite figure, Melissa curled up on the sofa and waited for Rachel to hand her a cup of tea.

  Melissa, in turn, offered her a plate of freshly made macarons as Rachel nestled on the couch beside her. Melissa worked at Paul, a popular patisserie chain, but spent her off-hours crafting her own concoctions. She wanted to open her own shop some day.

  “What flavor?” Rachel asked, palming a crisp-shelled treat that she knew would melt in her mouth with the first bite.