Good Girls Don't

by Rosalie Lario

  When the urge to chuckle came over him, he gave into it. He glanced at his wristwatch. “It’s almost two o’clock. Have you eaten lunch yet?”

  Two little spots of color formed on her cheeks. “No. I planned on grabbing something on the way back to Brooklyn.”

  “Yesterday’s offer of lunch still stands.”

  She hesitated. “I think I’d better just head back—”

  Suddenly, he knew he wasn’t going to let her get away that easily. Placing his hand on the small of her back, he led her toward the door. “There’s an excellent Italian restaurant down the block. You’ll love it.”

  Lyssa dug in her heels. “I don’t know, James—”

  He stopped and looked down at her. “It’s just lunch. And a free one, at that. What’s to turn down?”

  She let out a reluctant laugh. “You of all people should know there’s no such thing as a free lunch.”

  Yet she started moving again, regardless. He fell into place beside her, and they walked down the hall toward the elevator.

  Now all he had to do was figure out how he’d keep his hands off her while they ate.

  He had a feeling that was going to be the hard part.

  Chapter Seven

  The cool October breeze stung Lyssa’s legs as she allowed James to lead her outside his building and down the street.

  Should’ve worn tights.

  She couldn’t believe she had let vanity influence her outfit choice that morning. As Nadia liked to constantly tease her about, Lyssa was one of the least vain people she knew. Guess that was what happened when you gave into one-night stands: all of a sudden you started caring how you looked.

  Of course, it was hard not to when James looked the way he did. He wore no suit today, just a pair of black slacks and a blue and white striped dress shirt, over which he’d thrown on a heavy-knit, midnight-blue sweater. He looked like a designer’s vision of the perfect casual businessman, and from the glances being lobbed his way by the women who crossed them on the street, she wasn’t the only one who thought so.

  “It’s right here.” James pointed to the restaurant, then slid his hand along the small of her back and guided her toward the door. That simple act served to send a wave of heat through her body.

  Even through the warm fabric of her jacket, his touch was electric. She’d felt it that first night at the Dubliner, and it was only truer now that she knew what sort of lover he was.

  The kind who would stop at nothing to ensure she was quivering in pleasure.

  They entered the restaurant and he gazed down at her. “Chilly?”

  It took Lyssa a moment to realize that he was asking because of the flush on her cheeks. Since she couldn’t very well tell him the touch of his hand had done that, she shrugged. “Just a little.”

  She tore her gaze from his and saw that the restaurant was crowded, not an empty table in sight. Her momentary fear that they wouldn’t get seated was alleviated when the host saw James and headed straight for him. “Mr. Everly, pleasure to see you again. Your usual table?”

  “Please,” was James’s smooth reply.

  She should have guessed he’d have a table on standby.

  The host turned and grabbed two sets of silverware folded into linen napkins, then led them through the restaurant. Her puzzlement grew when she still didn’t see any empty spots, but then the host led them to a set of stairs. They climbed them and stopped at a dimly lit second-floor dining area. Plush red-velvet booths lined the walls, and several candlelit tables took up the remainder of the space in the middle.

  Only one other couple was up there, and the booth they sat in had a sheer curtain turned down for a bit of added solitude.

  “Wow.” She shot James a distrusting glance. “This is private.”

  His face remained blank as he said, “Yes, it’s quiet. It’s great for business meetings.”

  Romantic dates, too. She didn’t say it out loud, though. Given that he’d now become her nemesis of sorts, she didn’t even want to go there.

  The host led them to a booth tucked into the very rear of the room. Lyssa slid into the semi-circular booth, and even though it was big enough to sit four, James scooted in right beside her.

  “Very good, sir. A server will be with you shortly.”

  With those words, the host turned and left.

  Suspicion rose within her, and Lyssa turned to James. “You have a table here for business meetings, huh?”

  If he noted the hint of disbelief in her tone, he didn’t call her on it. “Yes. The food is excellent, and it’s a short walk from the office.”

  Then his gaze landed on her lips and his eyes darkened with heat. Her follow-up response died on her tongue. Awareness rose between them, bringing back sweet memories of yesterday. The way he’d pinned her up against the wall and stroked her to climax…the excitement of that moment would forever be burned in her mind. And the intensity with which they’d made love the night before …

  When her body softened with renewed desire, she gave an inward curse. How could she still want him so much, knowing they were in effect competitors when it came to Martin Freeman and his money?

  Before either of them could speak again, the waitress stopped in front of their table. “Good afternoon, Mr. Everly, ma’am, can I get you anything?”

  “Good afternoon. Can you bring us a bottle of the Sassicaia?” James smoothly turned to Lyssa. “Do you like lasagna? They have the best I’ve tasted here.”

  “I love lasagna.”

  He turned back to the server. “Put in two orders for us, please.”

  She nodded and lifted the sheer curtain off the hook, letting it fall into place around them before leaving.

  “The lasagna takes a bit longer to prepare, but it’s well worth it.” His gaze dropped down to her lips again, and when he spoke, his voice was an octave lower. “I hope you don’t mind?”

  “That’s fine.” Because what else could she say? She couldn’t very well admit that every moment she spent in his company made her weaker with desire for him.

  What on Earth was she even doing here?

  Oh yeah, she was supposed to be learning everything she could about James and his company. Searching for an edge that would help her win the investment. Yet from everything she’d seen so far, that had been a fruitless goal.

  His company was so much bigger, so much more advanced than her tiny marketing firm. How could she even hope to compete? She might as well start searching out alternate investors now.

  The thought pissed her off. She’d spent so much time and energy on Martin, and now she was going to have to start all over. While it might not technically be James’s fault, he was responsible. And here she was, having lunch with him as if none of that mattered.

  “What’s the big hurry to expand your company anyway?” she asked.

  He looked surprised by her question. Absently playing with his cocktail napkin, he said, “My father had a dream of taking DG global. He’d worked on it for years but never managed to get it off the ground before he died. When my older brother Andrew took over after his death, he made the expansion his top priority. He—”

  The server returned with a bottle of dark red wine and two glasses, interrupting whatever he’d been about to say next. She removed the cork and poured a small amount into his glass. When he sipped it and nodded, she filled both glasses halfway and then left.

  “So you’re saying this expansion is being done to satisfy your father’ dream?” she prodded.

  James lifted his wineglass for a sip. “Well, yes.”

  “Any particular reason why you had to expand into more than one market at the same time? I mean, from what I see, you’re moving into England, France, and Italy, and a short time later Germany, right?”

  One of James’s brows cocked. “You really have been doing your homework.”

  She might have spent a few precious hours of work time combing the Internet for news on Everly Publications’ expansion after he’d left her off
ice yesterday. Since she wasn’t about to admit that, she took a sip of her wine. Bold flavor exploded on her tongue, and she took a longer drink. “Wow, this is really good.”

  He ignored her last comment. “That was my father’s original vision, and my older brother Andrew decided to see it through when he took over.”

  After taking another generous sip, Lyssa said, “So basically, you’re doing all of this because your father wanted it?”

  He seemed to understand what point she was getting at, because he didn’t respond, merely lifted his glass to his lips.

  “Why not slow things down, take one territory at a time?” she continued, building steam for her argument. She set her glass down long enough to shimmy out of her jacket, sliding it beside her. “The expansion would certainly be less risky that way, and you would require less financial assistance, if any, from outside investors.”

  The corner of his mouth quirked. “Really, you think so?”

  “Frankly, I’m surprised your company’s stockholders even agreed to such a bold move on your part. I mean, sure, the potential for growth is staggering if it succeeds, and that could lead to a bigger return on investment, but there’s also a lot of risk involved.”

  His smirk converted into a full-out chuckle and he leaned forward so their faces were only inches apart. Her body’s response was instantaneous. The beating of her heart skyrocketed, and warmth tingled between her thighs.

  “Are you trying to talk me out of going forward with my company’s expansion?”

  His liquid, silky voice caused a tremble to race through her body. Instead of responding, she downed the remaining contents of her glass. When he put it that way, it seemed silly. But she needed to try something, didn’t she?

  Even though she wasn’t brave enough yet to meet his gaze, she could practically feel the heat of his eyes on her. He leaned forward a fraction so his lips brushed her ear. “Know what I think? I think that you’re completely adorable—”

  The curtain flipped back, revealing the waitress holding a tray. Lyssa scooted back guiltily, somehow feeling like she’d been caught doing something naughty. James, for his part, merely straightened and turned his charming smile on the server.

  “Your salads,” the woman offered. She set down two colorful plates of spring salad, replenished their glasses, then turned the curtain down and left again.

  Embarrassment coursed through Lyssa as she sat there for a moment, gazing down at her plate and trying to remember what they’d been talking about. The wine had been stronger than she’d expected, and she’d only had a piece of toast for breakfast. Add to that James’s magnetic attraction, and it was a miracle she could remember her own name. She certainly couldn’t look at him right now. She was afraid she’d jump him or something.

  “The salad looks delicious,” she finally said.

  “So do you.”

  His voice came out in a thick rumble, and helpless to resist, she shot her gaze to his.

  His eyes were dark and hooded, and when he saw her watching him, he moistened his lips. That simple act caused a tremor of heat to wind down her body.

  “James,” she whispered, all but pleading. “We shouldn’t.”

  “We already did,” he murmured back.

  That casual reminder made her muscles go all soft and loose. Lord, was it possible that she was even more attracted to him now that she knew exactly who he was?

  Lyssa shook her head. “I think this lunch was a bad idea—”

  “Shush.” He slid forward, and now his face was inches from hers. “Don’t think.”

  Before she could respond, his lips claimed hers, pressing softly against them and then coaxing them apart. When his tongue slipped inside, she let out a soft moan and her hand clasped the fabric of his sweater.

  James’s hand closed around her back, pulling her as close as she could get without sitting on his lap, and his mouth trailed down her neck. “You smell as delicious as you look. Almost as delicious as you taste.”

  “James.”

  “I can’t stop thinking about your scent,” he confessed, whispering into her ear. His hand moved from her back to her side, then slid down to the outside of her thigh. “The way you tasted on my tongue.”

  His words sparked images of him on his knees before her, and moisture built between her thighs.

  “Do you know how crazy it’s driving me?” he murmured. “I’m supposed to be concentrating on work, but all I can think about is tasting you again.”

  Her defenses all but fell away. When he spoke to her like that, she could barely think, much less remind herself of all the reasons why being here with him was a very bad idea. She made one last attempt. “James, we should—”

  His hand crept beneath her skirt and pushed at her knees. His voice gruffer, he said, “Open your legs.”

  “James.”

  “Come on,” he urged.

  Caught in his spell, she was helpless to resist doing as he ordered. The moment she opened her legs, his hand slid all the way up her thigh, his fingers unerringly coming to rest at the satin fabric now soaked with her desire for him.

  “Mm, I like knowing that you respond so well to me.” His breath kissed her ear before he gave it a soft nip.

  She shuddered out a breath when her nipples grew impossibly hard, tugging at the fabric of her black lacy bra.

  “You want me to touch you, don’t you?”

  “Y-yes,” she whispered.

  Making a noise in his throat, he slid a finger beneath her panties, drawing it against the moisture at her slick folds. When he pulled back, his hand moving off her completely, she gave a protesting gasp. But then he sat back just far enough that she could see him lift his finger and slide it in between his lips.

  Her body trembled at the sight of him sucking her juices into his mouth, at the look of pleasure on his face.

  He let out a rumbling groan. “You taste fucking amazing, Lyssa.”

  Oh, fuck it.

  Half crazed with desire for him, she leaned forward, letting her greedy hands slide over his chest, his abs, and then lower to his thick, hard arousal. She fumbled with his belt, but he shoved her hands away.

  “No.”

  Shocked, she sat back to meet his gaze. “No?”

  He shook his head. “Not yet. Let me touch you first. I want to see you.”

  He lowered his head to give her a hot, tantalizing kiss and he gently pushed back on her shoulders until her back rested against the cushioned booth. Then he sat back and lifted one of her legs, placing it over his so her thighs opened again.

  It was then that she had the presence of mind to remember where they were. A restaurant, with nothing more than a sheer curtain to provide the illusion of privacy.

  “James, not here.”

  But when she tried to sit up, he pushed her back. His voice low, he murmured, “Shush, I’ll see the server before she gets here.”

  “But…what about the other couple,” she whispered.

  “We can’t see them, so they can’t see us.”

  That wasn’t quite the reassurance she sought, and she opened her mouth to tell him that. Just then, his hand slid between her thighs again, and words deserted her. She let out a gasp and her head fell back against the booth.

  His fingers easily pushed the soaked fabric to the side and then they were sliding along her slick folds, making her shudder every time he rubbed up against her clit. The excitement building within her was almost unbearable. As if he sensed it, he flicked his wrist, sending one finger knuckle deep inside her.

  When she moaned out loud, he quickly set his lips over hers to muffle the sound. Kissing her passionately, he began to drive his finger in and out of her wet channel.

  Oh, god. She squirmed against him, a slave to the sensation he wrought within her. The one sliver of rational thought left in her mind wondered what a sight they’d make if anyone were to see them: her back pressed against the booth, and him leaning right over her, kissing her like she was the air he ne
eded to breathe. The tablecloth would mask the more illicit action, but anyone who looked long enough would no doubt notice the way his elbow moved as he thrust his finger in and out of her and easily put two and two together.

  For some reason, the thought turned her on. The danger of being caught doing something so shameless in a public place heightening her excitement.

  She wrapped her hands around James’s shoulders and kissed him hard, undulating her hips into his driving finger. When he broke away, she whispered. “Please, James. Please.”

  She was so close.

  He let out a grunt and pulled back slightly. The finger that had found its way inside her continued its magic while he lifted his other hand to unbutton her blouse to the waist. He slid the two pieces of fabric to the side, revealing her black lacy bra.

  “Shit, Lyssa,” he whispered, his voice tight. “If I’d known you were wearing this I wouldn’t have let you leave my office.”

  She let out a reluctant laugh, but her hands lifted to her blouse. “Someone will see.”

  His jaw tightened as he met her gaze. “I told you I’d see anyone before they came. Leave it.”

  Passion warred with common sense. They shouldn’t be doing this here. She shouldn’t allow it. But damn, how she wanted it, and when he looked at her that way…she was powerless to resist him.

  Her hands fell away, and she lifted them to his head instead, running her fingers through his short hair.

  Satisfaction blazed in his eyes. “Good girl,” he whispered.

  When he lowered his head to suck at her nipple through the thin fabric of her bra, it was all she could do not to cry out her pleasure. Then a second finger worked into her with the first, and she surrendered to the sensations winding through her body. Falling back so she was practically lying on the booth’s seat, she spread her legs and worked her hips, absorbing the steady, increasing pressure of James’s thrusting fingers.

  “That’s my girl.” His eyes seared with heat as he tugged down the fabric of her bra cups, leaving both nipples bared to the cool restaurant air. He bent his head to take one into his mouth, rolling his tongue around the bud before tugging on it with his teeth. Then he did the same to the other, moving back and forth until she was gasping for air and praying not to cry out.