After Hours. Vicki Thompson LewisЧитать онлайн книгу.
Her pink cheeks and quivering hands told him that she was nervous. Nervous and determined, the way a woman might be if she had an unfulfilled fantasy and boring monogamy was just over the next hill, ready to grab her. He could understand that.
He believed her story, unfortunately, and that should make his decision easy. Serving as a one-night-stand fantasy and then disappearing into the sunset wasn’t his style, especially not with a woman like this. He had a strong feeling she could be exactly the type he was looking for, and he wouldn’t want to disappear.
Therefore he should get the hell out of this office. He could come back in a few hours and finish the job. After this jolt of adrenaline, he wouldn’t be sleeping much tonight, anyway.
So why was he still standing here? Deep down, he knew why, other than the obvious sexual temptation. She represented a challenge, something that had seriously been lacking in his life. The business certainly no longer tested his mettle. Now it was simply a daily grind.
In essence, she’d given him exactly one chance to change her mind about moving in with her boyfriend. If he changed her mind, then he could go on to Phase Two, convincing her that he was the one she needed. Suddenly he saw his life unfolding as he’d envisioned—a wife, a home and a close family like the one he’d grown up in. His folks kept asking about his love life, or lack of one, and they’d be thrilled if he found the woman of his dreams.
Plus he had a hunch that finding that woman would force him to cut back on work. He desperately needed a playmate to jolt him out of this rut, because he hadn’t been able to accomplish that by himself. All he had to do to make that a possibility, was win out over the current boyfriend.
She probably didn’t consider Shane a contender, stacked against a lawyer important enough to fly to Switzerland on business. Sure, he could tell her he owned Mercury Communications and level the playing field, but he was used to working with a handicap. He performed better when the odds were against him.
Besides, he sensed the boyfriend had a handicap, too. If he’d been setting the sheets on fire with the lady lawyer, she wouldn’t be searching for a thrill the minute he left town. Shane had a good opportunity to win the sexual contest, especially with this fantasy situation she’d chosen.
Was he seriously considering her proposition, then? If she blabbed about this, to anyone, she could ruin his business reputation. The responsibility for the welfare of his employees weighed on his conscience.
He thought about the way she’d looked, standing there waiting for him to make up his mind. His gut instinct told him she wouldn’t blab, and that instinct had never betrayed him before. No, he couldn’t use his work responsibilities as an excuse to back away from this one.
And finally he had to admit that he didn’t want an excuse. She had the potential to be everything he wanted in a woman. Physically she was perfect. Added to that, she was smart enough to be a lawyer, and sexy enough to want a fantasy before she settled into a dull monogamous routine.
Slowly he unfastened his tool belt, his fingers shaking just a little, and laid it on the receptionist’s desk. The minute he did that, his cell phone beeped out its cute little “bombs away” melody. It was no longer cute. He grabbed the phone out of habit, punched the button and said hello.
Sure enough, the person on the other end was one of his oldest customers, someone who’d had a problem earlier in the day but hadn’t had time to call until now. Of course he’d called the minute Shane had a hot woman waiting for him just down the hall, a woman who had all the markings of happily ever after. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a prospect like that. The customer would have to wait.
“Sorry, George,” he said. “You’ve caught me at a really bad time. I’ll get back to you in the morning. Talk to you then.” He disconnected before George could give him any reason to stay on the line. Then he turned off his phone. And his pager.
Surprisingly, the world didn’t come to an end when he did that. He stared at the two pieces of equipment that had been his ball and chain for way too long and felt a sense of triumph. He hadn’t really lost control of his life. He’d only thought he had.
Straightening his shoulders, he turned toward the hallway. He had no condoms with him, so he’d have to be creative in how he satisfied her. But he guessed that was what she wanted, creativity.
His pulse rate jumping off the charts, he walked toward the only doorway with light spilling out onto the gray carpet. His senses recorded everything with the kind of accuracy that told him he’d always remember the sound of his footsteps on the Berber underfoot, the scent of commercial carpet cleaner he stirred on his way, and the Monet “Water Lilies” print in the gold frame hanging just outside her door.
In the silent office, she would hear him approaching. He wondered how that affected her, knowing that her fantasy was about to come true. Because it would come true. He planned to make this the most memorable sex she’d ever had, so memorable that she’d want to keep him around…forever.
When he walked into the room, his focus narrowed to include only the woman leaning against the front of her desk, waiting for him. His fantasy woman.
Her breathing came in quick, shallow gasps, which made the front of her white blouse quiver. She’d unfastened enough pearl buttons that the white lace of her bra peeked from under the crisp linen. The blouse had long sleeves and French cuffs held snug with the same pearl buttons, and it was tucked neatly into the waistband of a navy skirt that stopped a couple of inches above her knees.
Nylons in a subtle navy tint covered her slender legs. She wore pointy-toed heels that looked expensive. He was facing a professional businesswoman who wanted him to create havoc with her dressed-for-success presentation. She wanted her skirt up around her waist and her panties down around her ankles.
The prospect nearly destroyed his composure, but he breathed deeply and overcame the urge to lunge forward and pin her to the desk. He took a step closer and caught her scent, the sweetness of orange blossoms mingled with the tang of arousal. His mouth watered.
“So you decided to risk it.” Her voice was husky.
“Yeah.” He looked into her blue eyes and felt as if he’d gazed into them as a lover many times before, even though he didn’t even know her name. But he’d find out her name. This was her office, and her name would be somewhere in it. Getting that information was important, considering he planned to take this beyond her proposed one-night stand.
He pretended to survey the office. “Nice space.” She was partial to rosewood, apparently, but he was glad to see that the desk was sturdy and not some spindly antique. He’d be needing the desk.
It was still covered with files and papers and maybe she wanted it that way. Maybe she wanted to have sex on top of all that paperwork. Her computer was out of the way on a trolley beside the desk, but the phone could get upset in the process of what he had in mind. No problem. She was getting a new phone tonight, anyway.
The wooden mini-blinds covering the window behind her desk were closed tight, so she wasn’t into exhibitionism. At least not this time around. Otherwise the office contained a wooden lateral file, a bookcase filled with serious-looking law books, a credenza with a vase of silk flowers and some framed photos. Two armchairs that might have been in front of her desk at one time were now up against the wall. She’d given him room to maneuver. Nice.
He noticed a couple of bare picture hooks and realized that if she’d had diplomas hanging there, she’d taken them down before he arrived. And if she’d had a nameplate on her desk, that was in a drawer now, too. She didn’t want him to know who she was.
But he would find out. A woman eager for a long-awaited orgasm could be coaxed into saying all kinds of things. He would learn all he needed to learn.
So the diplomas were gone, but an impressionistic watercolor hung above the chairs. Its undulating curves and pink tones might look like nothing to the casual observer, but Shane decided the picture was definitely about sex.
“Do you like that?”