Concealed Desire

by Eden Summers

  “Everything’s fine, Dean.” She spared a moment to appreciate his appearance before she turned back to the bar. From his Italian leather shoes all the way up his expensive tailored suit to the casual shaggy haircut, he was a mighty fine specimen. She wasn’t ashamed of the heated attraction running through her veins. He was undeniably gorgeous, a phenomenal kisser too. He just didn’t deserve any more female attention. The man’s ego could fill a football stadium and the women he slept with could fill all the seats.

  She blamed her unhealthy obsession for men with dark features. She had practically drooled the first time they met, the haphazard way his hair fell to highlight those dark eyes. The healthy tan and athletic physique just added fuel to her eagerly blazing fire. Now he sat beside her, his leg brushing hers, and she wondered what other great assets he had to offer under all those expensive clothes.

  To occupy herself, she mentally counted the liquor bottles lining the wall behind the bar, ignoring Dean. Her count reached two before her concentration shot to hell, the center of her focus planted on his reflection through the wall of mirrors behind the bar. Her vision followed his strong cheekbones, moved down the corded muscles of his neck, over the opening of his business shirt as his head tilted back to take a drink. Their gaze met briefly in the mirror, his heated, hers surprised, before the connection shattered when he slammed his glass down with a thud.

  “Come on, we’re leaving.” He threw money on the bar and shoved off his stool.

  “Excuse me?” She swiveled toward him, her brain needing extra seconds to catch up as it struggled to swim through the liquor.

  “I said, we’re leaving. So get up, I’m taking you home.” His words were calm, firm, and in complete contrast to the stormy expression in his eyes.

  “No.” Beth turned back to the bar, intent on gesturing for another shot. Not that she needed another drink; her head already buzzed, but she knew it would piss Dean off and for some reason that task had bumped to the top of her agenda.

  As she lifted her arm, a firm hand encased her wrist, stopping her effort. She gasped, and anger hardened her expression. The heat from his touch brought a spark of awareness she didn’t appreciate. It had taken months of determination to forget the kiss they shared almost a year ago, a kiss that blew her mind and left her achingly vulnerable, yet hooked on his effortless charm.

  She couldn’t stand to be another face in his never-ending line of women, to sleep with him but mean nothing to him emotionally. Self-preservation demanded she step back, to maintain their relationship on a professional level if she wanted to keep her job and her sanity. So that’s what she’d done for endless months.

  Dean’s sexy bedroom eyes and husky voice had tested her resolve on a daily basis. Now his fingers touched her, and the alcohol made her question whether it meant more than common sense suggested.

  She glared at the hand holding her wrist. “Get your hand off me, Dean.”

  Without releasing her arm, he moved forward. His breath warmed her neck and sent a shiver of unwanted desire through her chest. “You’re making a scene. If you haven’t already noticed there’s a table full of my father’s business associates behind us. Now unless you want daddy dearest to tan your ass for acting unprofessional, while still technically within business hours, I suggest we leave.”

  The visual of Max spanking her sent a wave of revulsion through her system, causing her stomach to churn. Goose bumps covered her skin as she pulled herself out of the horrific vision. She glanced back and confirmed his words. In the corner of the room sat a table full of Max’s associates. Thankfully they remained engrossed in drinking and conversation.

  “Come on. I’ll drive you home.”

  She pulled away and watched Dean’s fingers travel over her skin, his touch slipping over her wrist and down the sensitive area at the back of her hand. The electrifying sensation from the deliberate caress caused her to momentarily close her eyes for composure. A lift home might be for the best. The train was scary enough when sober, let alone hyped up from Dean’s lingering touches.

  Ignoring the soul-shattering jolt his fingers evoked, she straightened and tried to concentrate instead on the way the ground wavered. Walking would be a difficulty she hadn’t anticipated. She cursed the polished floorboards and her love of stiletto heels as she took the first step. The ground moved like a water balloon under her feet, her heel losing traction as she fought for balance. She grasped for anything within reach, trying not to land on her ass and came up with Dean’s arm. His strong as steel arm.

  She clung to him with the force of an eagle’s talons, unwilling to let go and gracelessly drop to the floor. The cheeky, superior smirk he fixed her with spoke volumes, making her wish she gripped him for reasons other than her drunken stupidity. She gave a tight smile and a blush crept over her face as she righted herself. “I’m fine.” She patted away the hand trying to keep her steady. “Just practicing my dance moves. That one was called the baby giraffe.”

  He chuckled, the deep melody covering her like a blanket. “Yeah, clearly you’ve got the moves like Jagger.”

  Chapter Two

  Dean led the way onto the busy sidewalk of the Melbourne CBD, resisting the urge to lean into the long, blonde hair that cascaded over Beth’s shoulder. Something sweet, entirely feminine, and uniquely Beth filled his lungs. If he tilted his neck a little, his face would be surrounded by the mass of golden strands that swayed in the late spring breeze.

  He tried to shake the infatuation, instead concentrating on guiding her around the throng of people as they headed toward his car parked a block away. He held her steady, resting his hand on her waist while he walked her through the traffic. When her steps faltered, he swore aloud. His eagerness to keep her upright sent his hand gliding under the fabric of her suit jacket to land on the silk of her blouse. The soft material barely formed a barrier against the pliant, tender flesh underneath, and the last thing he needed was more temptation. He felt like a frigging teenager, his cock already on standby, poised, eager and readily available to commence the launch sequence at a second’s notice.

  He frowned and wondered how the hell he would get her home without causing a scene. He could be a gentleman and offer her the walking stick growing from the crotch of his pants, but he worried she would land flat on her ass when she tried to slap him for the comment. By her snappy mood, he could already tell she was having a bad day without the awkwardness of grabbing onto his pole the next time she took a dive. All he needed to do was pray she remained reasonably sure-footed in those tiny black heels for the next block.

  If only he knew why she was emotional in the first place. Even when frustrated at work, Beth still had a soft smile for everyone. She wasn’t high maintenance, didn’t crave attention, and rarely showed weakness in any form. She didn’t usually drink much either, not even at work functions—well, not since one memorable kiss a lifetime ago—and he’d never seen her drink during work hours. Ever.

  He hated seeing her like this. His temper spiked with the possibilities that could have arisen from a private meeting with his father. If the matter was personal, her best friend Angela would have given him the heads-up, but the receptionist hadn’t had a clue. He didn’t even know how much she had to drink, but her glazed expression indicated a decent amount.

  “You smell so good,” she moaned into his neck, making his cock twitch in earnest. Yep, definitely trashed.

  “Beth,” he warned, his restraint wavering to the point of nonexistence. He would need a damn leash on his dick if she didn’t settle down. Daydreams were already clouding his judgment. Images of dirty things in darkened alleys making him harder by the second. If she moaned in his ear again he doubted he would be able to resist the urge to take her hard and fast against the closest building.

  “No, really.” She rested her head on his shoulder, her long hair splaying over his chest as her footing straightened out. “You always smell so good. It’s infuriating.”

  Suppressing a groan, he dir
ected her around the last street corner and heaved a sigh when he spotted the parking garage. He paid extra money to have his car parked on the ground level, close enough to the attendant’s booth to be under constant supervision. Only a few more yards and he could place some distance between them. A few more yards until he could move her pliant body away from his and regain his ability to think clearly.

  “Why do you have to smell so good?” she grumbled. “As if being smart and sexy wasn’t enough, you have to smell all masculine and dreamy. It’s an unfair distribution of assets.”

  The compliment didn’t surprise him. The woman saying it did. It wasn’t a secret he found it effortless to score with the ladies. He attributed the easy hookups to his looks and the amount of time he spent working out. He just assumed Beth was immune. The vain women of society, the spoiled heiresses, the air-brained models, yeah, they all wanted to be with him, but Beth didn’t look at him too much anymore. Must be the alcohol talking.

  “Sexy, am I? I bet you’ll regret saying that on Monday morning.” He tried to downplay her words, hoping for a change in subject. Self-control didn’t sit high on his list of favorable qualities, and at the moment, it barely registered in his vocabulary. If she continued to test his resolve, he would either make the mistake of seducing her or have to end the night with a bag of ice on his balls.

  “What?” She turned her head toward him. Those big green eyes pierced his soul, making him ache from the tips of his fingers to the arches of his feet. “As if you didn’t know. That’s the one thing that pisses me off about you, Dean Sutherland; you’re too arrogant. If it weren’t for that ego of yours…”

  What? he wanted to ask as a spark of hope ignited in his chest. Instead of voicing the question, he ground his teeth together and tried to convince himself her words meant nothing in her drunken state. He strode into the parking garage and gave a wave to the attendant in the compact booth. His black BMW Z4 sparkled like the night sky, even in the dreary light.

  Releasing Beth’s waist, he moved to open the passenger door. She wavered under the sudden loss of support and he cursed his stupidity for not warning her first. He stepped back quickly, trying to steady her by pressing his body into hers. His hands gripped her hips, and their bodies molded so close his growing erection rubbed against her abdomen. Beth stared up at him, and the heat in her gaze stopped his heart. The world around them fell silent, their heated breaths the only noise…except for his hard cock crying for attention between them.

  “Sorry,” she whispered. Her gentle hands clung to his chest. “I’m really not that drunk, just more than a little clumsy today.”

  He swallowed hard, trying to recount how much money he lost on the last Melbourne Cup to get his manhood under some semblance of control. He needed to move away, to take a step back from the friction heating his body and the blatant attraction in Beth’s eyes. Right now they contained a palpable desire that destroyed him one slow inch at a time.

  Beth reached up, running a delicate hand through the loose hair around his face, sending every nerve in his body on high alert. His scalp tingled, shooting a trail of goose bumps down his spine. Every stimulated nerve, every pulse of sensation began to culminate in his fucking groin.

  Jesus Christ.

  The woman continued to undo him with her eyes, her touch, her need, and he couldn’t do a damn thing about it. If she were sober, he wouldn’t have a second thought about leaning in to kiss her, slanting his lips over hers until they became breathless. But she wasn’t. She was drunk and dealing with issues he hadn’t had a chance to work out yet.

  He hardened his gaze and planned on saying something cocky, something arrogant and egotistical to annoy her into backing off. But she had to go and smile at him, a slow seductive curve of her mouth that brought out two tiny dimples and made him momentarily pause. He didn’t have time to speak before her hot little tongue snaked out to wet the plump skin of her bottom lip, making it glisten in the fading light.

  Holy shit. Who was this woman? The Beth he knew was sassy, as sharp as a spitfire when he tried to stir her up, but always professional and usually a little reserved when it came to things of a sexual nature. She would flirt and tease on occasion, batting those long lashes with exaggerated femininity when she needed his help, but he hadn’t seen the spark of interest in her eyes since their kiss.

  He wouldn’t let history repeat itself with another drunken regrettable moment. Last time they were both drunk it had only taken a few teasing glances from Beth to make him lose all self-control. The night had started off simple, the usual end of week drinks. His father placed money over the bar to celebrate their quarterly sales, and everyone was having a great time. He’d been surprised to see Beth drinking and the usually polite and well-mannered woman had turned into a playful hellcat, giving him inviting eyes that drove him crazy.

  When people started to wave their good-byes Dean offered to take Angela, Steve, and Beth to Onyx, the newest club in the city. He told himself he only wanted more time with her. Some personal one-on-one out of their working environment, to see if the connection between them was more than a mere office flirtation. Seduction hadn’t been in his plan. He wasn’t willing to risk the relationship they already had. But Angela had seen through his own denial, fixing him with a knowing stare.

  As they arrived at Onyx Angela pulled him into one of the darkened recesses of the entry hall to tell him in no uncertain terms she would castrate him with a dull knife if he hurt Beth in any way. The caution hadn’t been necessary. Beth meant more to him than his usual conquests. All he wanted was time, but she turned out to be a temptation he couldn’t resist.

  The four of them scored a booth in an obscure corner to the side of the main bar. Although there had been enough room for all of them, Beth remained standing, her eyes focused on the dance floor, her body swaying to the beat of the music. He’d been riveted on the way the lights glimmered in her eyes; the way each song brightened her smile. On occasion she would glance his way, her teeth biting into her lip, then as quick as she turned to him she would look away, a flush heating her cheeks.

  He remembered thinking it would be a mistake to get involved; to risk their friendship to satisfy his need to taste her. But the alcohol buzz had worn down his rational thinking, letting the dictator between his legs take hold of the reins. His feet had moved of their own volition, coming to a halt in front of her, and before he knew it, he was leaning into the warmth of her body, asking her to dance.

  The loud beat of music didn’t compare to the thump, thump, thump of his chest when Beth shook her head, rejecting his offer. He hadn’t expected the cold shoulder. Women usually begged for his attention and being turned down by Beth made it even harder to handle.

  He camouflaged his disappointment with a friendly smile and shrugged, then gave the excuse of buying the next round to lick his wounds in private. When he turned to leave, she stopped him, gripping the lapels of his suit jacket. Her eyes searched his in hesitation, the noise from the club fading away as she slowly pulled him forward.

  There hadn’t been time to think. Her unsure innocence caused him to react. He wrapped his arms around her, one encompassing her waist, the other gripping her neck. Tilting her head back, he aligned their mouths and peered into her eyes with knowing intent. He fought to control himself, needing to give her a moment’s hesitation to pull away. But she didn’t.

  Beth gripped his lapel tighter in one hand, the other snaking around his neck, stopping to tease his nape by digging light fingernails into his flesh. The hint of perfume tormented his senses and instinct led him to tilt his head into her neck. He nuzzled at the delectable skin and her essence consumed his lungs.

  He nipped once, grazing a path with his teeth up to the sensitive place below her ear. A needy moan escaped her lips, her alcohol-sweetened breath brushing his face. Her head nuzzled into his, searching, seeking, and he didn’t hesitate, pulling back slightly before moving in to taste.

  The first caress was featherligh
t, smoother than silk, as her mouth moved against his. He couldn’t get enough of her and swept his tongue along the seam of her lips, enjoying the way she granted him immediate access. Her fingers ran through his hair, lightly tugging, spurring him to new heights, turning him wild, savage.

  He pushed his body into hers, grinding his erection into her pelvis, wanting her to feel his desire, needing her to know the way she affected him. She moaned, kissing him back with a simmering heat. Her tongue tangled with his, the soft tentative strokes making the need to grind against her unbearable. No kiss had ever been sweeter, no woman more hypnotizing, and drunk or not, no one had ever affected his heart the way Beth did.

  When she abruptly jerked back, turning away, he hadn’t known what to think. Not until the lust in his veins slowed and the blood roaring through his ears dulled to a lazy rush. Angela and Steve had been watching, wolf whistling, and yelling.

  The regret in Beth’s eyes had damn near killed him. He wanted to brush away the heat in her cheeks, to lean in and tell her it was OK, but she transformed in an instant, straightening her shoulders and sobering with the speed of light.

  Five minutes later she was gone, leaving with nothing more than a wave and a rueful glance. Instinct had demanded he chase after her, but Angela stopped him. Give her time. I know she cares for you, but she hasn’t been with a guy in ages and you’re her boss. Give her time to think it through.

  He remembered making the stupid decision to let her go, giving her the weekend to think it over. During that time, his hopes had grown. He imagined them moving forward, maybe dating, getting to know each other out of work, but Monday morning had been a bitch slap of reality. Beth had done a complete one-eighty. The flirting had stopped along with the playful banter, to the point where she would only communicate with him on a strictly professional level. It had taken months to wear her down, to get their relationship back to where it had been before the kiss.