“You’re really quite handy, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, I’m a regular Boy Scout.” He wrapped the armband around her slender forearm. “Be prepared, that’s my motto.”
“And mine is ‘never let the bastards grind you down.’” She grinned at him, warm and open and generous.
The tightness in his chest became even tighter.
“Come on, Love Machine,” Christie said, sticking the earbuds firmly in her ears. “I’ll race ya.”
…
Christie had no idea how long she had been riding. It felt like forever. Her legs were heavy iron bars that wouldn’t do what she told them and worse, every time she stopped, she felt dizzy and wanted to puke her guts out.
But even though going for a bike ride had sounded like the worst idea ever in the history of worst ideas, it was made easier by the cool music player Joseph had given her. She was dying to get home and play with it some more, but in the meantime there was the new Plague Dogs album and that just rocked.
It was a small thing, but she’d been so touched he’d thought of her. Her musical tastes were kind of extreme and not everyone got it, but the fact that he’d taken the time to ask her meant a lot. More than it should, if she were honest with herself.
In fact the only thing she really had issues with were the bike pants. They hugged her body, showing just how narrow she was, how she had no womanly curves to speak of. The only reason she’d kept them on was because Joseph couldn’t seem to stop looking at her legs.
Up ahead, Joseph waited for her astride his bike. He wasn’t even breathing hard. But his bike shirt was dark with sweat and she could see the glisten of it in the hollow of his throat. Sunlight filtered down through the pines of the forest around them, dappling his body with light and shadow, accentuating the classical planes and angles of his face.
Waiting for her, all sweat-sheened and glistening, he looked like an advertisement for very expensive aftershave.
Too out of breath to say anything, she just about fell off her bike when she stopped, only just managing not to tip over when she put her leg down and pulled out her earbuds.
Joseph surveyed her. “You look like you’ve had enough.”
“Oh no…I could go…for another…couple of…hours,” she replied sarcastically, in between gasping breaths.
He laughed. “Don’t worry, there’s another ten minutes of this trail and then it’s downhill all the way from there.”
“That’s what you said half an hour ago.”
Grinning, Joseph pushed himself back on his bike. “But this time I mean it.”
She took a deep breath, glaring at him as he pedaled up the curving trail. He was beautiful to watch, all long, hard calves, powerful thighs, and tight buttocks.
To take her mind off the screaming pain in her legs, she imagined him in the form-fitting suits that Olympic bikers wore. And then she imagined slowly unzipping him from it. Distracted, she almost didn’t notice when she arrived at the top of the hill, just as he’d promised.
He glanced at her as she pulled up beside him. “You know for a couch potato gamer girl who hasn’t been on a bike since she was ten, you’re doing very well. What makes you think you’re useless at physical stuff?”
Christie wiped the sweat off her forehead. “My older brother can do every sport known to man. And do it pretty much instantly. Me, not so much. I kind of sucked at everything. I mean, it took me three weeks to learn how to ride. My father gave up in disgust after the first couple of days. He thought I’d never be able to do it.”
“So you taught yourself, in other words?”
“Yes. I suppose I did.” Though it had cost her cuts and bruises.
“That doesn’t sound like someone who sucks. That sounds like someone who’s determined.”
She shifted on her bike, uncomfortable with the way he was looking at her. With what looked like respect. Weird, since she wasn’t that amazing.
Christie fiddled with her gloves so she didn’t have to look at him. “Well, I wanted to prove him wrong.”
“And you did.”
“I sprained my wrist in the process but yeah, I did.”
She could feel his gaze resting on her so she toyed some more, not wanting to meet it.
Eventually he looked away and said, “I’m going to go fast down here. It’s quite steep, though, so just go at your own pace. I’ll meet you at the bottom.”
She let out a breath and watched him start off down the hill, riding fast. There were several curves and dips in the trail, engineered for those with a bit of skill to do jumps on, and Joseph rode over them with ease, handling the bike like it was part of him, the bloody show-off. He made it look so easy.
Just like her brother.
That sounds like someone who’s determined.
Christie gripped her handlebars. No, she’d never been very good at this kind of thing. She’d failed at ballet, at gym, at soccer. And of course not forgetting the one Zumba class Marisa had dragged her along to. The one where she’d nearly broken the nose of the woman she’d been next to with her elbow…
But what she did have was a hell of a lot of determination.
She grinned. And before she could second-guess herself, she pushed off with her foot. Hard.
Then there was nothing but wind on her hot face, the ground moving fast beneath her wheels, and the track in front of her. Christie whooped as adrenaline burst through her. This was fantastic. She didn’t even have to do anything, only look out for tree roots and other riders. Amazing.
Toward the end, she even got up enough energy to pedal a bit so she could go faster, the trees whipping by on either side of her.
Who’d have thought she’d enjoy this? Who’d have thought it would make her feel so free?
At the bottom of the hill she saw Joseph waiting for her, watching her progress, and she couldn’t resist showing off, steering her bike off a tiny jump and managing a bit of air in the process.
As she reached him, she pulled the bike into a sliding skid to stop, her rear tire kicking up pine needles and dirt.
And promptly fell off her bike.
“Christie?” Joseph leaned over her. He was wearing sunglasses and she couldn’t see his eyes, but she heard the concern in his voice. “Are you okay?”
“Oh my God,” Christie panted from her position on the forest floor. She was covered in dirt and pine needles and she had a long scrape on her leg from the pedal, but she didn’t care. She didn’t care that she’d fallen off her bike in front of the gorgeous man she was sleeping with. That she’d kind of made an ass of herself. Somehow that didn’t matter at all. “That was amazing. Can we do it again?”
…
Joseph didn’t think he’d forget the image as long as he lived. Of Christie flying down the hill on her bike, cheeks pink, hair streaming out behind her, screaming and whooping all the way to the bottom.
Her whole face was suffused with light, with excitement. And as she began to brush the dirt and pine needles from her pants, she began to laugh. “Typical, huh? I don’t fall off on the way down, not even when I did that jump. Oh no, I fell off at the end. After the bloody bike had stopped, for God’s sake!” She patted her arm where the music player was still firmly attached, looking satisfied. “On the upside, I think you could safely say I beta tested the hell out of that.”
She was so passionate. And determined. And brave. And when she got that look in her eyes, he just didn’t know what to do with himself. What to do with the feeling inside him. The little bubble of warmth that had swelled at the sight of her careering down the hill then caught just behind his heart.
So he went over to her, gripped her under the chin, tilted her head back and kissed her hard. She smelled like lavender and pine, and clean sweat. And she tasted like honey. Like joy.
And when he raised his head the little bubble of warmth remained there, firmly lodged in his chest. It didn’t look like it was going to go away anytime soon.
“Let’s go home,”
he said, his voice gone hoarse. “I don’t want to do anymore bike riding.”
“Really?” She sounded disappointed. “But I was just starting to get into it.”
Gently he slid an arm around her waist, pulling her closer, the heat of her body against his. “I have another kind of riding I want to do.”
Her mouth curved in a smile that was pure naughtiness. “Ooooh, that kind of riding. In that case, I’m all yours.”
The warmth expanded inside him, and he realized he’d made a mistake in bringing her along. No, not just a mistake, a catastrophic error. She made him want things he shouldn’t be wanting. Like her. For more than a night. For more than two.
Which was all kinds of wrong and all kinds of bad. Because no matter what she said, she wasn’t that type of woman. She was a forever type of woman, and he was a for-never type of man.
But that smile of hers was turning him inside out and the thought of saying good-bye tonight, tomorrow…hell, even the day after that, was just not an option.
Joseph pulled her helmet off, pushed his fingers into her hair and kissed her again. And by the time he released her, they were both panting.
Christie must have picked up on his unease, though, because she asked, “What’s up?”
“Nothing.” He cupped her face in his hands. “What are your plans for the weekend?”
“What? Just today or—”
“The whole weekend.”
She leaned into him, the delicate heat of her making it difficult to focus on anything else. “Well, I did have a huge game of Zombie Force planned this afternoon and then a Star Trek: The Next Generation marathon, so you know, pretty busy.”
“Can I play?”
“What?” She looked almost shocked. “You? Play Zombie Force?”
“Yes. And watch Star Trek with you.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“No.” He kissed her. And then because once wasn’t enough, kissed her again. “You can teach me how to play, then tell me all the inside Star Trek jokes.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
“Well, okay.” She’d gone pink again. “But you’ll have to be prepared to be killed a lot. By ten-year-olds.”
“I’m not worried. I’ll have you to protect me.”
Christie slid her arms around his neck. “Of course. You’ll be safe with me.”
But he knew he wouldn’t be.
He had the odd feeling he’d never be safe again.
Chapter Nine
Joseph opened his eyes and realized that the light shining through the curtains was actually sunlight. Irritated, he threw an arm over his face to block it out. Didn’t he have blackout curtains on his bedroom windows?
Then he remembered. He wasn’t in his bedroom. He was in Christie’s.
Where he’d spent a good portion of the day.
After getting home from the bike trails, they’d showered together. Which had then turned into an afternoon in bed together. Which had then turned into an exhausted sleep.
Sleep had always been somewhat problematic for him, so to fall asleep, in the middle of the day, in the arms of a woman, was something out of the ordinary.
The thought made the unease he’d been feeling earlier in the day deepen.
Restlessly he moved, sitting on the edge of the bed.
That little bubble of warmth was still trapped inside him. That weird emotion he’d felt out on the trails, watching her. The one he didn’t know what to do with. The one that made his chest feel tight. Like he couldn’t breathe.
Perhaps being with her for the whole weekend was a mistake. Perhaps he should go. Like now.
A pair of slim arms slid around his waist, a warm body pressing against his back.
Too late.
“Trying to escape?” Christie murmured against the back of his neck. “Is the prospect of being beaten by ten-year-olds too frightening for you?”
Ten-year-olds he could handle. One gorgeous, passionate, intriguing woman? Not so much.
He closed his eyes for a second. How could he leave now? While she had her arms around him? He was trapped.
Nice excuse.
Her hands spread out on his abdomen, stroking gently, and he could feel himself getting hard.
Of course it was an excuse. The truth was that he didn’t want to leave. And hell, a weekend was a weekend, right? It didn’t mean love and babies, for Christ’s sake.
“I thought you said you’d protect me?” He leaned back into her, feeling her hands sliding lower.
“Hmm, I’m not sure you need protection.” Her hands moved even lower. “You’re pretty well-armed already.” Cool fingers circled him. “I got the BFG 9000, oh yes…”
“I almost hate to ask.”
“You never played Doom? BFG stands for Big Fuc—”
The doorbell rang, shattering the moment.
Christie cursed in a very unladylike fashion. “Who the hell could that be?”
He laughed, turning his face to her neck, inhaling the sweet scent of her. “I have no idea but I want to kill them.”
Her hand brushed down his back in a light caress. “I’d better get it.”
“No. I’ll go.” He pushed up and off the bed, reaching for his jeans. “That way if it’s someone you know, they’ll go away quicker once they see me.”
“Good point.” She rolled over onto her stomach and pointed a finger at him. “But don’t be long. I have plans.”
“Oh, believe me, so do I.”
Out in the hallway, Joseph pulled open Christie’s front door to find a courier standing on the other side of it. “Here,” the guy said, handing Joseph a very expensive-looking gilt-edged envelope. “Sign, please.”
Mildly curious, Joseph did so, then took the envelope back into the bedroom. “You can relax,” he began, “it was a courier—” And stopped dead.
Christie had arranged herself artfully on the pillows like a houri, a sultry expression on her face. “Hey, Love Machine,” she said throatily as he entered. “Is that a canoe in your pocket or are you just pleased to see me?”
Gorgeous, ridiculous girl.
“This isn’t a canoe, honey,” he drawled. “This is a freaking ocean liner.”
Christie’s sultry expression broke into a grin, eyes lit up with laughter. “What is it with guys and size?” Then her gaze darted to the envelope in his hand. “A courier, you said?”
“Yeah.” He came over to the bed and sprawled beside her, holding out the envelope. “This came. It looks pretty important.”
She took it off him, her attention on the front where her name was written in a flowing, cursive script. Her expression changed, becoming pale and shuttered. Slowly he became aware that she’d tensed up, her posture hunched.
“No,” she said in a tight voice. “It’s not important.”
She made as if to throw it away but Joseph grabbed her by the wrist, frowning. What the hell was this about? All her earlier laughter and fun had drained away. Like a light had been turned off inside her.
“What is it? You’ve gone pale.”
“It’s nothing. Really. Nothing at all.”
His fingers tightened. “Bullshit.”
Christie remained silent a long moment, her mouth as thin as a mouth like hers could ever get. Then she said shortly, “It’s probably an invitation to my brother’s engagement party. No big deal.”
“If it’s no big deal then why are you so pale?”
“Because I hate parties.”
“You hate parties that much?”
Christie let out a long breath. “Yeah. Particularly when they involve my family.”
Oh yes. The brother who could do every sport. The father who thought his daughter would never learn to ride. The hard-faced mother he’d seen pictures of on the Internet. “Why? What’s wrong with your family?”
She pulled her hand out of his but didn’t move away. Instead she gazed down at the creamy surface of the envelope. “The only thing my mothe
r cares about is looking good for other people, and my dad and my brother are only interested in how much money you earn and what your golf handicap is.”
Ah. Interesting. He shifted on the bed, rolling onto his side, elbow bent, head propped on hand. “And you hate that.”
Christie fiddled with the envelope. “Yeah. It’s not exactly like I fit in.”
“You want to fit in?”
An expression of contempt crossed her face. “Me? Ha. No way in hell.”
“So what’s the big deal then?”
She turned her face away. “You don’t really want to know. It’s not very interesting.”
“Hey,” he said. “Don’t tell me what I would and wouldn’t be interested in, okay? I’m not asking you because I’m not interested. You make me sound like some shallow idiot.”
Christie’s shoulders hunched. “I’m sorry. It’s just…I don’t like talking about my stupid family.”
“They’re that bad?” How could they be worse than his? His father had been absent for most of his childhood and his mother had just been…absent.
The scattering of freckles across her cheek looked like gold dust against her pale skin. “They’re pretty awful. All they care about is the latest gossip, the latest party, and the size of your bloody bank account. They’re not interested in anything else.”
Joseph studied her, the tight lines around her mouth, around her eyes. “They’re not interested in you, right?”
A glossy russet curl swung over Christie’s shoulder as she turned away from him. “No,” she said in a muffled voice. “I don’t care about parties or gossip. I’m not some big success. I’m not anything according to them. Pathetic, huh?” Her fingers gripped the envelope. “But that’s okay. I don’t care what they think. I really don’t. And I’m not going to their party.” She tossed the invite aside without even bothering to open it.
She didn’t care? As if he believed that for a second. He wasn’t blind. And her family had hurt her, that much was obvious.
Abruptly he remembered the photo he’d seen on the web. Of Christie looking awkward in her party frock, with her mother standing by. Trying to fit in.
Talking Dirty with the CEO Page 12
