by Dawn Atkins
Cole wanted that. Hungered for it, if he were honest. He wanted someone who understood him, knew what he faced, what he wanted, could say what he had to hear to turn wrong things right.
Someone like Kylie.
Stop it. Even if she wasn’t moving to L.A., Kylie had no interest in settling down. She’d practically sneered corporate wife. She had no interest in compromise when it came to her career and he didn’t blame her.
Now Deborah Ramsdale was ready to settle down. And she’d be back in less than a month. He took her profile out of his briefcase and skimmed it. Career has been top priority, she’d written, but plan to limit travel and adjust hours to accommodate a relationship and, eventually, a family.
Exactly what he wanted. He looked at her photo. She was attractive, though appearance wasn’t as important as personality. Her eyes held a glint of ambition, which he liked. Kylie had more than a glint. She had a beam, a klieg light, an Olympic torch of drive. She was going places as hard and fast as she could. She made love that way, too.
He had to stop lapsing into thoughts of her. Her busy body, shiny eyes and full-faced smile had shimmered just below the surface of his awareness ever since that night, like a reflection in a pond.
Forget Kylie. Back to Deborah, who had minors in philosophy and art history, which meant she’d do well in his social milieu. He looked forward to insightful discussions over Sunday bagels thick with cream cheese and buttery omelets—make that lite cream cheese and Eggbeaters, since she’d surely be a cholesterol watcher.
He liked that they shared careers. And BL&T would be glad to connect with such a prominent firm. With luck, he and Deborah would be engaged before the firm’s Christmas party. The partner decision would be announced just after the first of the year. It all clicked into place, like an exclusive country club that had invited him to join before he’d even considered applying.
He returned her profile to his briefcase, then opened his computer calendar for Trevor’s return. The Deborah date was a yellow square for last Friday. He’d met Kylie instead.
What a wonder she’d been as a lover, rocking on his shaft and crying out like no man had ever made her feel so good.
Shit. An erection. In his serious office with its serious diplomas, sober law books and elegant paintings, he had a serious boner.
Trevor walked in. Of course. At least Cole’s desk hid his crotch. He scooted his chair farther in just to be sure.
“You all right?” Trevor asked.
“Sure. Just…thinking.” And aching.
They booked three meetings and were searching for a fourth when the secretary spoke through the intercom. “Cole…Kylie on line two.”
His heart and penis jumped like both wanted out. “Kylie? I’ll take it.”
He’d sounded like an idiot, obviously, because Trevor looked him over. “Kylie huh? Is she cute as a button?”
“Look for something Friday,” he said, ignoring the jab, and shifted the monitor so Trevor could check out his calendar.
Cole picked up the phone and turned his chair away. “How the hell are you?” he said, going for a conversational backslap to keep Trevor off the trail.
“Cole?” There was a pause, a sharp inhale, then a relieved exhale. “I get it. Someone’s there. I can call back.”
“No, no, not at all. Can you hang on?” He turned to see what Trevor had found.
“I’ll cancel racquetball and we can meet over lunch,” Trevor said, winking. Then he left, whistling, as if he’d just learned the secret to Cole’s demise. Or seen beneath his desk. Maybe both.
“I can call back.” Kylie’s voice was faint.
“No, no. It’s good to hear your voice.” He softened his tone to match the intimacy he felt. “I’m alone now.”
“Oh. Good.” There was breathy expectation in her tone, but she seemed to catch herself and her next words were businesslike. “Janie mentioned a reporter contacted you. I’m calling to be sure you’re comfortable if he should call again.”
This was a business call. Damn. “I had only good things to say. I doubt he’ll try me again.”
“Janie told me you had a good time.” Her intimate tone sent an arrow of lust straight through him.
“I had a great time.”
“Me, too. Very.” Silence. They inhaled and exhaled at the same time. And again. Two people didn’t breathe at each other over the phone unless they were thirteen and clueless. Or they’d had great sex and didn’t know what to do about it.
“I can’t stop thinking about that night,” she said—fast, as if the words had jumped from her throat.
He laughed, so relieved he wanted to shout. “Me, either. I’ve been daydreaming at the worst possible times.”
“I’ve been staring at this marketing plan for an hour without making a keystroke. So I just gave up and called.” Her voice had a sweet wobble. Of desire, relief and pleasure.
“No sense suffering alone.” How could his body be hard as a rock and soft as butter at the same time? His surroundings blurred and he was aware only of Kylie’s low voice in his ear, imagining her lips pressed against the mouthpiece on her end.
“I guess we both needed that night,” she said wistfully. Oh, hell, she was wrapping it up now.
“I guess so.” I want more. I want you. Now. The words pushed into his throat, but he swallowed them back down.
“Yeah.” Pause. “Well.” Another pause. “So, when is…Deborah…getting back?”
“Three weeks.”
“Oh.”
“Three weeks and three days actually.”
She breathed at him. He breathed back.
Plenty of time. He pushed back the inappropriate thought, but it jumped right up again.
“I should let you get back to work.” She sighed.
She was right. He’d be taking tons of work home tonight and he didn’t dare stay late or Radar would express his opinion somewhere. “Hell, I work too much,” he blurted.
“Me, too,” she said quickly. “I took an advance job for my boss-to-be, can you believe it?”
“I volunteered for a tight deadline on a big case.”
“Why do we do this to ourselves?”
“Because people count on us and we come through. Simple.”
“Exactly. It’s worse because my local accounts are heating up and I really love working on them. I feel like I’ve started to build something. I had to turn down two new clients yesterday.”
“Because you’re leaving it probably makes what you have seem all the more precious.”
“I’m sure that’s true. Though I can see that I could definitely build if I wanted to. Maybe I’m making too much of it.”
“It’s perfectly normal to have doubts,” he said, happy to reassure her. “And when you’re ready to build your business again, there will be new opportunities.”
“Exactly. Maybe the fact that I’m moving on makes me seem more successful to others. All I know is that I’m working my butt off to the bitter end.”
“You have to maintain high standards.”
“God, it’s nice to talk to someone who understands. My sister accuses me of not having a life.”
“Your sister and your secretary, right?”
“Oh, yeah. They’re both on my case all the time.”
“Your work is your life right now.”
“Exactly. Thank you.”
“For me, too. Which makes it a problem that I’m taking care of my neighbor’s dog while she’s out of town. Whenever I get home too late, he lets me know with a little doggie deposit.”
“Oh, ick. Poop or pee?”
“Poop. Cleans up quick, no residue.”
“At least that. I couldn’t take the guilt of owning a pet. Looking into those woeful eyes every morning when I left and getting that desperate welcome when I returned. My only guilt now is not getting enough exercise.”
“Not enough exercise?” He deliberately loaded the word, meaning sex. How could he help it?
“Not
even close,” she said in a way that told him she knew exactly what he’d meant. “It’s so good for you, too. Exercise releases the endorphins that are vital to concentration and productivity and feelings of well-being.” She spoke seductively, as if she were describing a sex act in intimate detail.
“Well-being. You bet.” His cock rose to hopeful attention.
“But we’re too busy to get some, right? Exercise, I mean.” She sighed in what sounded like hopeless frustration.
“Your marketing plan won’t write itself.”
“And your deadline’s ticking ever closer.”
They breathed at each other for a few seconds, the heat building across the miles and wires.
“Maybe we could take care of it…over the phone,” Kylie said finally, huskily, sounding surprised at herself.
“You think?” His prick did a little happy dance.
“We’d be saving travel time.”
“You’re good,” he said. He looked up. The secretary whose desk faced the glass panel at the side of his door was gone to the doctor, but it was only four and the place was full of people. Maybe if they were quick about it. This was Kylie, for God’s sake, whose very name gave him an erection. They’d be quick. “Hang on.” He lunged to his door and locked it, returning to the phone that held the hottest woman he’d ever known. “I’m back.”
“I’ve never done this before,” she said breathlessly.
“Me, either. But I like the sound of it.” Just her voice in his ear would be enough to send him over the top, he was embarrassed to realize.
“Where do we start? Maybe with what we’re wearing? I have on a green suit and a white silk blouse.”
“Silk is good. I like white. Bright green suit?” He closed his eyes, focused on her voice, pictured her body, full breasts pushing out of the bright green—
“Olive-green.”
“Hmm.” Olive-green. He could see it now and he put his hand on himself to shift his erection where he could get at it. “Is there cleavage?”
“Sorry. High collar.”
“Mmm. I’m picturing cleavage.” That mint-stained blouse with the inky collar. Yeah. And her chest heaving with uneven breaths…
“Good point. We should use our imaginations. Okay… my skirt has a slit up the side…that goes clear…up… to my…ass.” Her slow-as-syrup words were as arousing as the picture she was painting in his head.
“Mmm. Panty hose? Say no.”
“No panty hose. No panties, either.” The idea seemed to arouse her and her breath went harsh. He tightened his grip on himself, pretending it was her hand on him.
“Just you,” he breathed. “Where you’re so soft?”
“Mmm. Yesss.”
“Are you touching yourself, Kylie?” He was rocking into his palm, wishing to hell he dared to unzip.
“And pretending it’s you, yeah. Your finger. In me.”
He pictured her squirming in her chair like she’d wiggled on his shaft the other night and in so many daydreams. At this rate, he wouldn’t last thirty seconds. “It’s me, all right,” he said, concentrating on her, “and I’m shoving your skirt out of the way to see how wet you are….”
“I’m very wet…because of you.”
“I want to taste you now.” He rubbed himself faster, prickling with lust, gripping the phone with his other hand. “I’m on my knees now, holding your thighs apart….”
“Holding me open? Oh, yes. I love that.”
“Now I’m licking you.” His vision dimmed. He wanted to be doing exactly that.
She gasped. “Oh, your tongue is right there. I’m wiggling so much…it’s too much…you won’t stop…I can’t stop…it’s too strong…I’m…coming…help me….”
And then there were frantic breaths and a cry and he only hoped no one was anywhere near her desk, because the sounds were unmistakable. He surged against his zipper, but managed to hold back somehow, wanting to hear what she would say.
“That was good,” she breathed, sounding barely collected. “Did you…?”
“Not yet.”
“This is no time to be a gentleman, Cole. Ladies don’t have to be first.” She laughed softly. “Okay, I’m walking over to you now…I’m behind your desk…”
Yes, he could picture her. He tightened his grip.
“I’m shoving your chair back so I can get at you…I’m on my knees…putting you in my mouth….”
“Oh, yeah.” He loved the picture of her bending to him, her pretty lips round, opening, sliding onto him, wet and warm.
“You taste salty and warm and…so good. Mmm.”
Laughter and talk rose in the hall outside his office.
“Stop,” he ground out. “There are people…” Damn.
“I can wait a bit.”
“It’s too busy now.” Trevor or Tuttleman could pop in midstroke.
“I guess associates on a partner track can’t go around with wet splotches on their slacks,” she said sadly. “But I can’t leave you like that…all swollen…and hard…and sore.” She dragged out the words like Nurse Feel Good asking where it hurt. “It’s cruel…almost dangerous…you could hurt yourself.”
“Good point. I sure as hell can’t walk now.”
“Whose place can we get to faster?” She spoke in such a practical tone, he was caught off guard.
“I’m forty minutes from mine, thirty from yours.” Blood pounded in his head—and everywhere else.
“My place it is.”
“Are you sure?” What was he saying? He had a ton of work.
“If you take the Fifty-One, you can make it in twenty-five.”
“Twenty if I speed. I’m there.”
He shoved a bunch of work into his briefcase and disappeared down the back stairs so no one saw him leave before five. He refused to have second thoughts. They’d be fast and he’d be home in time for Radar’s potty break, clearheaded, relaxed and full of energy. This was smart, forward-thinking…
Insane. He was doing it anyway.
7
THE INSTANT she got inside her town house, Kylie ditched her underwear, so she’d be as naked beneath her suit as she’d told Cole she was in their phone fantasy. He’d be here any second, so she only had time to brush her teeth. Hands shaking, she jiggled paste on her toothbrush. This is crazy.
Even working nonstop she could barely keep up with Personal Touch and her final client work, not to mention the S-Mickey-B Home Town Suites project she’d agreed to work on from Phoenix.
But you have to have him.
She did. She was wound tight and ticking, coiled to spring, loaded to explode, but only on contact with Cole. She had to do something about that, didn’t she?
Didn’t they say you should manage energy, not time, and if you restored your energy, you got more work out of each moment? Right? Right? Oh, shut up. No way was she sending Cole away, no matter what the time management gurus said.
She caught sight of herself in the mirror. Her flushed face, glazed eyes and toothpaste-foamed mouth made her look completely mad. She was mad.
But when the doorbell rang a second later, her entire body sang with joy. She rinsed, slammed her toothbrush into its holder and raced to let him in.
There he stood in her home, button-down shirt open at the collar, tie hanging, hair mussed, panting as though he’d run all the way. His eyes looked so desperate for her that her knees turned to water.
She noticed a briefcase dangling from one hand. “You brought work?”
“In case we take a break.” He threw it down and yanked her into his arms in a way that told her it would be a long while before they breathed, let alone took a break. His tongue went deep, digging in, demanding she give herself to him. At the same time, he tugged at her blazer.
The button flew off, clicking onto the entry tile somewhere. “Sorry,” he said into her mouth.
“It was loose.”
He braced her against the door, seized her breasts through her blouse, as if he had to have her now
. She was dizzy with desire, alive with the thrill of his urgency.
He shoved his hand under her skirt and found her naked. “Yes.” He trembled at the discovery. “I could hardly see to drive thinking of you like this, waiting for me to—” He ran his thumb down the swollen length of her.
She gasped and sagged against the door.
He attacked her mouth again, still stroking her.
She begged in desperate murmurs for more.
He slid two fingers inside, digging in to snag her G spot.
“Oh…oh…ohohoh.” She pushed back against the door, her legs too rubbery to hold her up. She felt like she was on one of those carnival rides that slapped you against the wall and spun you and spun you and spun you. “That feels…so…good…so…oh, oh…”
She hooked a leg across his backside to open herself more fully to his fingers. “What about you?” she moaned, wanting to make him feel good, too, but not coordinated enough to do more than stay upright and experience this.
“Later. I want you to come for me.” He did something magical with his thumb while his fingers squeezed that glorious ridge behind her pubic bone.
Prickles shot across her skin, pushed by waves of heat and desire until she thought she might pass out.
Cole braced her more firmly against the door, reaching under her skirt with his other hand to cup her bottom, which increased the pull on her sex.
In seconds, she was shot through with the thrill of climax—a slow bullet of ecstasy, passing through her steadily, endlessly, taking its time, while Cole held her in hot hands, giving her a pure pleasure that would…not… stop.
She fell against him, completely overcome, seeing double, then not seeing at all. He’d made love to her barely inside her door, his briefcase at their feet, but it had been as incredible as all night between satin sheets.
She felt his unspent lust like a gathering storm between them. He moved fast, unzipping himself, shoving his pants to the floor, lifting her and adjusting his position to enter her, sliding immediately deep. His groan was rich with relief.
