At that, I laugh. “Maybe we should work with the door open.”
“As insatiable as you make me, I would just take you with the door open.”
“But what would poor Bethany say? I think she has a bit of a crush on you.”
“I think she would be sad to see her job disappear when I replace her for a male secretary.”
We both bust out laughing. Apparently he’s not a stranger to the passes from his eyeing secretary. We sit there in silence still catching our breath.
“I think we should probably get up.” I begin to break from his hold, but he tightens his grip.
“Have dinner with me.”
“What?”
“Have dinner with me. Outside of the office. Outside of the employer/employee boundaries.”
“Dinner, as in a date?”
He laughs. “I was hoping that would be the goal, but since you always play so hard to get, would you like me to rephrase it to make it sound less frightening?” I lean back so I can decipher his facial expression. That bastard is fighting not to smile. I go to swat him in the chest but he catches my hand. With ease, he takes my captured palm and brings it to his still swollen lips.
“Have I mentioned how your feistiness turns me completely mad?” He continues pressing kiss after kiss to the inside of my palm. Have I mentioned anything you say to me makes me melt?
I try and respond in my cool, collective manner, so of course when I speak, it sounds strangled. “How about we make it through this week of work first, then I will consider dinner.”
He smiles, “Work first, dinner after, got it.” He presses one last wet kiss to my hand then pats the side of my butt cheek. “Well, then I must ask you to please stop seducing me because we have work to do.” His smile doesn’t leave his face. And neither does he let down his guard as he waits for me to attempt another whack. I won’t give him the pleasure, so instead I glare at him until I know if I don’t stop I will end up tiger clawing him back to the ground.
“I think that is a great idea, Mr. Dresden. A day’s work is never done.”
“You are correct there, Ms. Summers. Shall we go conquer the day so I can conquer your appetite?”
Tingles. All over my body.
“Dirty mind, Ms. Summers. I meant with food, not my body.”
Now that earns him a whack.
IT’S LATE IN THE day and we have been working next to one another for the past four hours. Apparently, Sam actually does know how to shut off his sexual appetite and be professional, therefore, no touching or petting occurred during this time. We went over the numbers again for Nelson Piping and Company. He matched my information with the accounts payable he was able to retrieve from back files and it proved that the piping company he had been working with, was actually skimming from the pot. The material was organic, as it claimed, but the company who was funding its production was without a doubt a Fortune 500 company who, guess what, manufactured steel. Not the go-green, friendly kind. I saw Sam calmly grab at the forms while he read the articles and information. I could tell he was angry. Just from being close to him the past three days, I’ve gathered that he is truly passionate about his goal to build the organic go-green hotel. I’m impressed by the lengths he is willing to go to in order to make the environment better. It’s rare that you see men of his stature worry so much about something other than themselves and their tee times.
Behind us the TV softly hums, giving us some background noise while we work. We’ve been using the conference table in his office to lay out all our documents and spreadsheets. Sam is currently standing next to me with his intense business stature, deep in thought about what he’s reading, while I sit next to him googling LEED. LEED, which stands for Leadership in Energy and Environmental Design, are groups that manufacture recycled steel, that use Electric Arc Furnace, also known as EAF. All sounds super fancy right? I know, it takes a professional Google master to find all this. Toots her own horn.
“Pen, can you take a closer look at these figures. Something just doesn’t fit here. The total expenses of the profit, compared to the income is not right. I’ve gone over it twice now. Something is just not adding up.” He places the papers in front of me, still bent forward. His hair has lost its perfect matte and is falling forward onto his forehead.
“Yeah sure,” I take a look at the figures. Numbers are pretty basic, if you know what you are looking at. I’ve never been good at geography and I suck at history. If it was a life or death question on naming what B.C. stood for, we would all be frying in hell right now. Just kidding. I know what B.C. stands for. Before Cable, geesh.
Sam is hovering over me while I punch some numbers into my calculator. I write a few equations on the pad in front of me while calculating the income spent divided by the profit margin earned. As Sam waits patiently for my outcome, a news reporter on the television comes through, stating a break in normal newscast for the senate race announcement. I pay no attention until I hear a familiar voice come through the speakers. I halt in my number crunching and turn in the direction Sam is already facing.
“Thank you to all the community members of Manhattan for coming out today and showing your support for the Senate campaign. It is my pleasure to officially announce my candidacy in the race to become your newest State Senator.”
Cheers and clapping cut off any upcoming speech. I don’t realize it, but when the pencil in my hand snaps in half, it causes Sam to break away from the screen.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, yeah I’m fine.”
I’m still staring at the television, watching Cassandra stand tall and proud next to Henry while she cozily runs her manicured claws up and down his arm.
“That poor pencil says otherwise.”
“I said I’m fine,” I reply, a bit snippier than I mean to. I pull my eyes away from the disaster on the television and start over on my numbers.
“What just happened there?” He asks again. I refuse to answer until I feel like I can get my emotions under control.
“Do you know Henry Berkshire?” He pushes.
“No.”
“Hey, look at me.” He pulls my chin toward him to catch my eyes.
“Do you know him?”
“I said no.” He searches for lies or truths, and honestly, I’m not sure which one he will see. Truth is, it turned out that I didn’t really know him at all. Because if I did, I would have dumped his sorry ass a long fucking time ago.
“I’m not a fan of politics. Sorry. I guess it just gets me all worked up.” Thankfully, I see the resolve in his eyes. He’s going to let it be.
“Well not many are, unless you are in their pockets.”
That makes me turn. “What does that mean?”
“Well people in politics like to play dirty. Their goal is to win, and to do that is to raise money and get funding. So they kiss the right ass, get people who are willing to help fund their race and all while using the money to secretly search deep into their opponents. Everyone has skeletons, so when you think your contribution is being used to fund the campaign, it’s really going towards investigating the opposition, trying to scrounge up their dirty secrets…”
I’m not gonna lie. My mouth has dropped open sometime during his breakdown.
“Wait, so you’re saying Henry is a dirty politician?”
“Oh, so he’s Henry now?” he chuckles. I didn’t even catch my mistake.
“You know what I mean. Whatever his name is.” I wave my hands.
“No, not necessarily. But most of them are. It’s common knowledge. Hence, why people don’t like politicians.” He turns with his hands resting across his chest as he finishes watching the speech.
“So why are you watching it then? I hope that guy loses and ends up at a fast food place flipping burgers.” Sam doesn’t say anything about my extremely harsh comment toward a man I don’t know.
“Because I have money invested in his campaign.”
If that doesn’t side swipe me right in the bull
ocks, then holy shit, it sure knocks me off my chair.
“You what?” I gasp as I straighten myself on my chair.
“I’m a contributor to his campaign. He came to me with the opportunity to “donate” so and so dollars to his campaign and in return he would support the push of more efforts in the city in regards to go-green.”
How can he support that schmuck? He turns before I can wipe the look of disappointment off my face.
“Now what’s that look for?”
“Nothing,” I shake my head and turn back to my laptop.
“Oh, I beg to differ, my sweet Penny. I have had the pleasure, in our short time together, of learning all these wonderful expressions you place on that beautiful face of yours.” He steps forward into my space and bends down to meet me nose to nose.
“Nothing, it’s like I said. I just don’t care for politics,” I whisper softly, my breath hitting his mouth. I watch him lick the heat from his lips. His hand comes up, his thumb brushing along my lower lip.
“Well then, I hope I don’t ever end up on your bad side.” With that he bends forward and places his lips on mine. He doesn’t ask, he just knows I won’t deny him when he pushes my lips wide for his tongue to enter. Hardening our connection, his tongue hungrily explores my mouth. I can’t fight the whimper that escapes through my lips as I lose myself in this wonderful distraction.
Too soon, he pulls away. My eyes flutter open to the beautiful sight of Sam’s dilated blue eyes. “Now, I think that is my favorite expression yet.”
“And which one is that?”
“The look that says you’re all mine.”
SAM MUST REALLY WANT this dinner because after the other night’s naughty window sex, he hasn’t made a single pass at me, besides simple kisses in passing. I’m a wee bit bummed about it and my lower region is even more so. But a deal is a deal. Work before play, as they like to say. He-he that rhymed.
As Friday comes to an end, I begin to wrap up, finishing up the steel analysis I’ve been working on all day. “You owe me dinner.” Sam states, leaning over me.
“Is that so?” I tease, saving the excel document and beginning to shut down my computer. I turn and he is already descending upon me. He lifts me by my hips placing me on top of the conference table.
“It is very so. I have been a complete gentlemen since our deal. And now I would like to take you to dinner. Tomorrow night. I’ll pick the place, unless you have something in mind.
I shake my head, thinking he doesn’t look like a guy who’s into Mexican food and bottomless margaritas. “Nope. You pick.”
“Great.” He brings his right hand up, grazing my cheek. “I’ll pick you up at seven.”
“Okay,” I reply feeling like a little school girl being asked out on her first date. He lowers his mouth to mine, kissing me as I graze my hands up his chest. Even though it’s only been twelve hours since his lips were last on mine, I feel so starved for him. I bring my arms around his neck, pulling him closer to me, and as our tongues dance around one another, I know I’m in trouble. My heart beat picks up and the warmth that floods my blood tells me I may be falling for this guy. And maybe a little too fast. I gently pull away, breaking our kiss.
Sam’s pupils are dilated and I’m sure mine don’t look much different. “I’ve changed my mind,” he begins, wrapping his arms around my waist. “Have dinner with me tonight. Tomorrow is too long to wait to have you all to myself.” His eyes give him away, telling me that he’s in just as much trouble as I am, but the fear that I’m totally misreading this apparent lust that we have for one another is unsettling. We haven’t known each other very long and the time we have, we’ve spent getting to know each other more physically then emotionally.
“I can’t.”
“Why, do you have plans?” His forehead creases.
“No, it’s not that. I just feel… Well, we’re kinda moving a bit fast. It’s only been a week and we’ve already gotten to know each other on a, well, really private level. But I feel like we’re lacking the conversation portion. I want to get to know you, not just how talented you are at ripping off my panties.”
His eyes glimmer with amusement. “Okay.”
“So I think it will be nice for us to go on a real date. Get to know one another. Maybe even talk about the new health benefits you’re going to offer me,” I wiggle my eyebrows, lightening up the mood. I’m nervous he’s going to turn me down. What if I’m making this dinner more than he planned it to be?
“I agree. I think you should get to know me more too. I cannot keep letting you eat me alive with those sexy eyes every time we are in the same room, without sharing my secret likes and dislikes.” At that I smack him in the chest.
“I’m being serious.”
“And so am I.” He takes my hand and begins spoiling my arm with kiss after kiss as he works his way up to my shoulder. “Penny, I will agree to anything, as long as I get to be with you. I won’t deny how badly I’m dying to rip this dress off and fuck you right here on this table, until my name screams off your beautiful lips.” He kisses the sensitive flesh just below my ear and my eyes close, my initial argument fading fast. “But I want you for you. And I will wait as long as you need to.” He makes it back to my mouth, grazing his warm lips against mine.
“Thank you,” I whisper, my eyes still closed, feeling his breath caress my skin.
“But I’m going to need you to come in to the office tomorrow.”
I look up at him, confused. “But tomorrow’s Saturday?” I question.
“Yes and there is no way I will survive waiting until dinner to see you. Consider it a privilege of being the boss.”
When I finally make it home, Jamie catches me coming into our building. Insisting again that we get to know one another better, and not taking no for an answer this time, he personally invites himself inside, while holding a bottle of tequila in one hand and margarita mix in the other.
“I would love to Jamie, but I had a really long day, plus I have to work tomorrow too.” I smile kindly trying to let him down gently. Don’t feel bad for him though. He just dismisses my excuse.
“Oh it’s okay honey we will just have a few. Nothing like drinking your dinner while chatting it up with your new neighbor,” he chirps and walks in front of me into my apartment.
Well then, I guess I’m having a Friday night tequila party…
“Are you sure you’re all right?” Sam asks me for the third time today.
“Yep, just peachy.” Ugh, maybe not peachy. Peachy reminds me of fruit and fruit leads back to Strawberry-Rita mix, and that makes me not so fine.
“And you said just you and your neighbor hung out?”
“Yep, just me and the neighbor.” I look at Sam who seems to be frowning at my explanation.
“What?”
“Nothing, I just have never heard you speak of this neighbor.”
I eye him quizzically. “Well that’s because you and I have known each other for about a week. Plus, I just actually met him a few days ago myself.”
Apparently something I’ve said turns his frown even more feral. “Now what?”
“I didn’t realize this neighbor of yours was a he,” he says, not so pleased.
And then I see it.
And I mentally aweeee.
“Sam, are you jealous of my male neighbor?”
His caveman side shines through when he steps in front of me, so close I have to lift my head up to keep eye contact with him.
“There is one thing that I am not, and that is jealous.” He takes a step closer, if that’s even possible. “But what I am is protective of what is mine.”
“Yours?” I choke out.
“That’s right. You might still want to deny this. This magnitude of attraction that’s between us. But soon you are going to give in. And you are going to be mine. But until that happens, I want to make sure that no one else gets in my way.”
I want to reply. Or argue. Or say anything at all, but I can’t seem to
pick my jaw up off the ground. I’m still standing so I don’t think I blacked out and am currently concussed. Therefore, what I just heard was real.
You are going to be mine.
Who says that? Only the hottest man I have ever met when staking his claim on the women he wants. Soooo hot. Queasy stomach forgotten, I begin to lick my lips. Having my mouth wide open tends to cause dryness and his w—
“Do you have anything to say about that, my sweet Penny?” He lifts his knuckled hand to brush alongside my cheek.
“Nope,” I croak out.
“Good.” He stops at the corner of my bottom lip and glides his thumb across to the other side.
“Now, let’s finish up the organic compound figures so I can finally take you to dinner, and most importantly, back to my place where I can let you read my diary, then have my way with you.”
I, the non-speaker, just groan.
And possibly soak my panties.
I am currently standing in my closet staring at the rack of ZERO outfits that will do for tonight’s dinner. Why didn’t I go buy something? Why? Why? Why? I take another dress off the hanger and hold it up to my frame.
“Yuck, too bland.” I toss it on the floor and grab at another one. “Yuck, too slutty.” Another toss, another grab, “Ugh, yuck, way too friend zone-ish and not enough I want you to rip this off me after we share some personal moments.” My frustration is building. Instead of becoming besties with my neighbor last night, I should have stopped at the local boutique outside Sam’s office building and bought a damn dress.
I grab for one last dress when I hear my doorbell go off.
“Ughh! Not now!” I seriously cannot deal with Jamie right now. I have to be ready in less than two hours and I am in the middle of an outfit crisis.
I plan on not even answering but the bell rings again. I storm out of my closet, accidently kicking poor Chelsea who is buried underneath my pile of discarded dresses.
“Shit, I’m sorry baby.” I pick her up and truck it to the door. I look through the peephole, because duh, this is New Jersey, and I see a man holding a box.
Life as We Know It (Love Not Included) (Volume 4) Page 11
