The Art of Love

by Kayla C. Oliver

  “Damn it, Courtney, now is really not a good time.”

  Her face was flushed and she looked… tasty. Like a dessert that I wanted to lick the toppings off first before devouring whole.

  “Goddamnit. Manny is such a pain in my ass.” She glanced down at her wristwatch, a delicate rose gold that went well with her complexion and looked good even though it directly clashed with her hair. “Tell him I’ll be there in fifteen minutes, traffic willing. And please put another pot of coffee on.”

  She ended the call, looking almost as annoyed as she did when I popped in unexpectedly during her little meetings. But I took some pleasure in knowing that she didn’t look the slightest bit aroused. I was glad to know it wasn’t just annoyance that triggered that particular bodily response.

  Guess it must just be me.

  Turning to Trent, she held out her hand. “Apologies, Mr. Parker. I’m afraid that I have some business to attend to. I hope you’ll give my offer some thought, and please don’t hesitate to give me a call if you have any questions.”

  She spared me little more than a glance, but the fire in her eyes when she did was enough to tell me that she was well aware of my presence. Maybe it was my own ego, but I couldn’t help but think she wanted me. Maybe just as much as I wanted her.

  “Of course. It’s been fun,” Trent told her, grinning broadly, the bastard.

  She left then and I could admit that I watched her full hips swaying the entire time until that perky, round ass of hers finally disappeared out the door.

  “She is sexy.”

  I jerked my eyes away from the door to find Trent watching me, that stupid grin still in place. I narrowed my eyes at him. “I can’t believe you’re still meeting with her. You can’t be considering this. Not seriously.”

  He leaned back in his chair, folding his large arms behind his head like an impromptu pillow. His grin never faded. “What can I say? She’s got a lot to offer. Don’t you think?”

  I ignored the suggestion, because I knew he was trying to bait me. He wasn’t interested in Marnie that way, I was sure of it. He was just jerking my chain, because he could. I wasn’t sure what pissed me off more. The fact that he was doing it or the fact that it was fucking working.

  I need that fucking woman out of my head already.

  Easier said than done.

  “What’s she offering you? You know I’ll match it and do you better,” I told him, ignoring thoughts of Marnie and that perky little ass of hers.

  Parker sighed dramatically. “Oh, Callum. If only you knew. I have to admit, this is a hard decision for me, but she’s very compelling—and she has something I want.”

  My brow pinched; my lips pursed together. What the hell was he talking about? What could Marnie have that he would want bad enough to consider signing with S&W? Sure, they were supposedly a reputable company—not if you asked me, but unfortunately not everyone listened to my opinion on the matter. And yes, they had resources, but they didn’t have anything better than Tarvish did. Hell, Marnie was the only thing I could think of worth having from S&W that I didn’t have, and I was 99.9 percent sure that wasn’t what Trent was after. They didn’t really seem compatible, and he was pretty big on not mixing business with pleasure.

  “Whatever she has, I’ll get it for you,” I told him after a moment, completely serious.

  He laughed at me, a big old belly laugh, and shook his head. “Man, I don’t think you can offer me this.”

  His grin hid a secret, and it pissed me off worse than anything else. I didn’t like him keeping secrets from me, damn it, and I didn’t like feeling like Marnie somehow had the upper hand.

  “You’re fucking killing me, Trent,” I grumbled. “Just tell me what you want.”

  He threw a few extra bills down on the table, a tip for the waitress. “Sorry, my friend, but this one’s not about you.” He stood then, tipping an invisible hat to me. “Gotta go.”

  “You’re fucking serious right now.”

  He said nothing, just kept smiling as he headed toward the door. I knew I was being overdramatic as I threw my hands up in the air in exasperation, but I didn’t care. This day had not gone according to plan in the least. What was really dumb about the whole thing? I was pretty sure that I wasn’t coming to these meetings just to disrupt Marnie’s chance of winning over Trent anymore.

  No, I was pretty sure it was because I really did want to see Marnie and that wonderful body that begged me for a repeat performance.

  “Jesus, how’d I fuck this up so badly?”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Marnie

  I had it planned out this time. For sure, things would finally go smoothly. I’d ironed out a few of the kinks in the contract, talked things over with Dorian to make sure we could swing things, and was finally feeling like I had a real shot at this. Reid didn’t have a monopoly over Parker, though he sure seemed to think so.

  “Bastard,” I muttered to myself as I shuffled the freshly printed pages of the new and revised contract on the desk in front of me.

  I was in my office at S&W Publishing. Since the first meeting with Trent Parker, I’d picked public places—restaurants, cafés, even parks at his request—in an effort to make the business environment I was proposing more amenable, more friendly. But each time that son of a bitch Callum had shown up, right on time, fully aware we’d be there. He ruined it to the point where I couldn’t get a word in edgewise with Parker, and it was really starting to piss me off.

  First that stupid hipster café.

  Then the little brunch place.

  It was the park after that.

  Then the library.

  Finally, I’d had enough. I wasn’t going to let him bully me around or intimidate me. I’d meant what I said when I told him that the reason he was interrupting was because he was nervous. I had him on the ropes. There was a chance—a good chance, I thought—that Parker might sign with S&W. Meaning Callum Reid was going to lose this fight.

  In an effort to finalize the contract and seal the deal, I set up a meeting with Parker here at my office. I told Courtney to talk to Parker’s agent and set it up discreetly in an effort to keep the meeting a secret from Reid. With any luck, this would be private enough and secret enough that that asshole Reid wouldn’t show up.

  Today’s the day, I told myself. I’m going to seal this deal and say hello to that wonderful partnership.

  There was a knock on my door, and I straightened up, putting a calm smile on my face in an effort to hide my nerves. I needed everything to go smoothly, damn it. Needed it to.

  “Please come in.”

  Trent Parker pushed the door open and smiled at me in greeting. “Ms. McKenna. Good to see you again.”

  “Likewise,” I told him, then gestured to the seat in front of my desk. “Please, won’t you sit down?”

  He hesitated, his smile almost… apologetic. He scratched behind his ear, then said, “You know, I would, but I’m thinking this meeting isn’t going to be as long as you think.”

  My brow pinched as worry washed through me. What in the hell had changed between now and the time I’d set up this meeting? I thought I was making headway with him. But I got my answer almost instantly. Behind Parker, the door opened again, and lo and behold who it was.

  “Goddamnit, Callum Reid.”

  His smile was wicked and taunting. It was sexy as hell, but it infuriated me to no end. He had some fucking nerve coming to my office and pretending like he had any right to be here.

  I stood up from behind my desk, doing my best not to shake from rage. “This is not a public meeting, and this is not a public area, so I suggest you get the hell out of my office.”

  Parker was busy admiring the walls of my office, but Reid only had eyes for me. They were sharp and heated, the way they always seemed to be when they looked at me. He was wearing part of a suit—button-down shirt, black slacks, a loosened tie that had subtle star-like explosions across it, but no jacket or vest. His hands were shoved down i
nto the pockets of his slacks, making him look like some hardworking news journalist who chain-smoked and stayed up all night to get his next big article to the press the following morning.

  It was sexy. Charming. And that just pissed me off worse.

  “I didn’t see any No Trespassing signs—you should really get that replaced,” he told me, pointing to the phone that looked like it was still a rotary.

  My rage blossomed like roses across my cheeks. That bastard. “I can see how class might intimidate you, but I assure you, my phone does not need to be replaced.”

  His eyes narrowed at me. “I am the height of class, Ms. McKenna. Just ask anyone.”

  “I’m not sure I want to talk to anyone who would tell me that you’re a class act.”

  “That’s all right. I doubt they’d want to speak to you, either. No one likes dealing with a woman who just makes everything more difficult.”

  My hands tightened into fists at my side. The nerve of this guy! “Women don’t make things difficult, Mr. Reid. They just have to wade through all the shit that men fuck up, and then they have to fix it. It’s hardly our fault.”

  “Are you saying you’re in the garbage business?”

  “Only if you’re saying you’re the garbage.”

  Parker’s gaze had returned to us. He was glancing between us, his expression a little worried. “Um, you know what, guys? I think I’ll wait outside. You guys look like you need some alone time.”

  I barely registered his words as he slipped toward the door to disappear, and Reid didn’t even glance in his direction. He was still staring at me like I’d stolen the last damn cookie out of the jar, then left the blame for him.

  “If I’m the garbage, then you’re the one who’s been rolling around in it. I didn’t know you were so kinky.”

  “Everyone slums it once in their life,” I quipped back.

  He stepped closer. “Just once? I think you’re lying to yourself.”

  “What could I possibly have to lie about? You were a moment of weakness—we all have them. I just had enough sense to walk away afterward.”

  He barked out a laugh, moving closer again until there was only the desk—a suddenly very thin, small desk—between us. I could practically feel him, like he was sending vibrations my way. Sexy vibrations. I didn’t know if I bought into the whole pheromone crap, but right now it sure as hell seemed feasible. I was drawn to him, whether I liked it or not. It didn’t matter that we were fighting or even what we were fighting over. All that mattered was that there was the equivalent of a foot and a half of space in the form of hard wood between us.

  “You might be sensible, but you’re kidding yourself if you think that you’ve walked away from anything.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I demanded.

  “It means that you want me. Every time you see me, you think about what we did that night—and how you want to repeat it.”

  I shuddered. I wanted to tell myself that he was fishing for things that weren’t there, but it wasn’t the truth. I remembered my legs slung over his shoulders. I remembered the way he fondled my breasts and slipped his fingers inside me first, only to demolish me with his cock a second later.

  And yes, I fucking wanted to repeat it.

  But I know better. This is dangerous. I can’t lose control like this, not a second time.

  Even as I told myself that, my body was reacting to him. I found myself leaning over my desk at the same time that he was. I was aware of the way my blouse fell open enough to show the tops of my breasts. I knew that my skirt was skintight and that it emphasized my hips. This was a stupid, risky game to play, but damn if I didn’t want to play it.

  “You think so?” I purred.

  He smirked at me, his full mouth making promises to my body that I desperately wanted him to keep. “I know so.”

  “Prove it, then.”

  He reached across the desk in an instant, his hand going to the back of my neck and cupping it as he yanked me forward. Our mouths crashed together as I felt his other hand go to my waist. Suddenly I was being hauled over the desk, finding myself on my knees as he pulled my body to his. My breasts slammed against his chest, the nipples tightening as I reacted to the feel of him.

  His mouth was hot, and his tongue was determined, demanding. It slipped into my mouth, tasting me. I groaned as his hands slid down the length of my body to my hips. He squeezed and jerked me closer still.

  My legs automatically started to part so that he could slide between them, but my skirt was in the way. It was a pencil skirt and way too tight to allow me to open up. My hands reached down to the hem, jerking it up until the fabric was settled high on my thighs just below where Callum’s hands sat.

  He practically growled low in his throat as I opened my legs, putting my knees on either side of his waist.

  My hands moved to his body, feeling his taut stomach and the hard muscles there. He broke the kiss only to trail small, hot ones against my neck, traveling lower toward my chest. I sat up a little on my knees to give him better access. In response, he buried his mouth down the front of my blouse, popping another button open as his tongue slid along the line of my cleavage.

  I shuddered.

  My hands continued up his body, moving from his hard abs to his chest. I clutched at his shirt as his tongue slipped over the tops of my breasts, trailing along the line of my lacy bra.

  I felt wanton and desperate. I clawed at his shirt until I managed to find the line of buttons on the center. I jerked them open impatiently, several popping off and scattering atop my desk beside me. I didn’t care and judging by the way his hands were pulling my shirt free from the waistband of my skirt, I was willing to bet he didn’t care, either.

  I felt his hands slide beneath my shirt, finding bare skin there. His fingers were hot as they grazed along the small of my waist, then trailed up higher along my back. His mouth remained fixated with my breasts, his tongue slipping beneath the lace of my bra slightly, indicating that he wanted what was held tightly in place.

  Opening his shirt, I exposed the hot, hard skin there. I had figured he worked out, kept in shape, but now I was positive. He was built like a fucking god, and damn if I didn’t like that. My hands caressed his muscles, making them tighten beneath my touch.

  His hands made it to the back of my bra. I felt the snap come undone and the bra loosen. His teeth found purchase along the lace edge of the left cup and jerked it down. I felt cool air touch my nipple, caressing the already hardened tip.

  When his tongue slid over the tip, I threw my head back and groaned. His lips engulfed my flesh, suckling my tit. His teeth worried over the nipple, then his tongue went back over it to soothe what little sting he’d caused.

  His hands, satisfied that they’d freed my breasts, came around to the front this time. I felt them gently stroke along my ribs, just beneath my breasts, but they didn’t stop. He stopped only when he’d gotten to the very front of my shirt, then he jerked. Buttons went flying again and I knew that my entire shirt was ruined, but it was also open, and fuck if that wasn’t more important at that moment.

  My hands were working to get his shirt off. I’d gotten it down his shoulders, but because he was still playing with my body, I couldn’t get it down any farther. But I lucked out. He was so determined to get my shirt off, that I got the chance to get his off, too.

  We did each other a favor and each took half a second to slip our shirts off. His was thrown off to the side, and mine was left on the desk. His hands went to my bra again and he jerked it off, exposing me completely.

  “I fucking love those tits,” he growled at me, then attacked them again, giving the right breast the same treatment as the left.

  I felt alive, electric, beneath his touch. It made my insides feel as though they were building up for a launch, fire growing low between my legs. I knew I was wet, and I knew what I wanted.

  While he continued to suck and nip at my breasts, my hands went lower. I found the wa
istband of his slacks. My fingers worked to free the button, then undid the zipper.

  He groaned against my breasts as I reached into his pants and found his member. He was rock hard and as long and thick as I remembered. I wrapped my small hand around him and gave him several quick strokes.

  He began to pant against my chest, his hips twitching automatically into my hand. “Damn it, woman.”

  Normally, I might have teased him a little longer, but I was feeling desperate myself. I wanted to get this show on the road, damn it. My body was aching with need, and I just didn’t have the patience to wait while I teased him.

  He actually shucked his pants off this time, showing off muscular legs that looked like they belonged to a runner. I had a quick urge to see his butt, because I had a feeling it was going to look good, but I told myself another time.

  He grabbed my hips and jerked me forward until I was sitting on the edge of the desk. Reaching beneath my skirt, he found my panties and yanked them off. I felt them tear but couldn’t make myself mind. I felt cool air against my pussy and shuddered. His hands shoved my skirt up a little farther until he could see me. His eyes flashed with dark desire as he devoured me with his eyes.

  “Touch me,” I shamelessly begged him, my core pulsing with need.

  He obliged me eagerly, his hand diving between my legs to push three fingers in this time. I let my head fall back as I let out a cry.

  “Fuck, you’re wet, baby,” he told me, his voice thick with need.

  His fingers curled inside me, sliding against my walls. I cried out and shuddered. His fingers were fucking wonderful, but they weren’t all I wanted. I wanted more. I wanted his cock, and I wasn’t feeling particularly patient.

  “More,” I managed to bite out.

  He did as I asked by adding another finger. I moaned, even though it wasn’t exactly what I’d had in mind. I was about to tell him he was an ass and that he knew what I meant when I felt his thumb press just above my opening. I let out a loud cry that was not at all appropriate for an office space. Heat and electricity raced through my body, throwing me into near immediate convulsions.