Bargaining with the Boss (5 page)

"It's not that I hate you."

It's that you terrify me.

It's that you remind me of someone that I used to know.

It's that...

She cleared her throat. "So, how do you picture this whole thing working?"

"This whole thing?" He asked.

"You know, this whole, um, seduction thing you've got going on." The waitress sat her new drink in front of her, and though she'd promised herself not to touch it, she sucked it down, grateful for the distraction.

"I have a room upstairs. Eventually, we'll go up to it."

She nodded, then stared into her drink as she asked, "when is 'eventually?'"

"When you're not nervous."

"Then why don't we do this?" She grabbed her coat, silently cursing herself and her stupid pride. What did it matter if he knew she was nervous? Hell, would it matter if he knew she was straight up terrified? Or why she faux-hated him?

Yes,
a part of her screamed,
all those things would matter.
Deeply. Better to get it over with. To rip off the Band-Aid.

She hadn't slept with anyone in two years, and now it felt like she was giving him a second go at her virginity. Not that that would change anything. For all she knew, he'd just shown up tonight to get what he came for.

But how would she feel afterward? And why had that totally not occurred to her until now?

It was only sex. Eliza was right. It was just a biological urge. It didn't
have
to be special.

But still...After so long...

When they were in the elevator on the way up to the room, Brooks stood beside her, just close enough for their arms to brush against each other. A tingle of electricity shot through her at the feel, but she shrugged it off.

"It's going to be fine, Natalie."

For some reason, she was still determined to seem as nonchalant as ever. "I know that. Did you need me to tell you? Because I'm totally fine."

"I'm glad to hear that."

"Yeah, I've never been better."

"Great."

The door clanged open and Brooks led her directly to the double doors across the hall. "This is us."

He opened the doors and led her in. It was a standard luxury suite. A living room and wide king bed with plush linens. In the bathroom, there was probably a jetted tub and Egyptian cotton towels. The only thing that surprised her was the bucket of champagne chilling beside the couch.

"Not impressed?" He raised his eyebrows.

"Are your dates normally?"

"Why do I feel like 'yes' is the wrong answer?"

"Probably because I'm not like those other girls. The champagne is a nice touch, though." She nodded toward the bucket. "Very
Pretty Woman
, considering the whole exchanging my body for goods and services aspect of this deal."

He chuckled. "Is that the way you see it?"

"Isn't that what this is?"

"It doesn't have to be."

"No?"

"I never agreed to that. Neither did you. I only asked you here tonight." He uncorked the champagne. "The idea of forcing you here for a deal is a little unsavory. Even for me."

She swallowed. Every word he said was true. She'd come here on her own. She'd decided on it.

So why did she feel like she was still the newest chicken in the lion's den?

And why did that thrill her to the core?

H
e poured
a glass of champagne then held it out, but instead of taking it, she only stared at his hand, then his eyes, and his hand again.

"I didn't poison it." He promised.

"I know." Her voice was softer than he'd ever heard it before, but it wasn't in seduction or arousal. No, it was awkwardness. And fear.

When she finally took the drink from him, their fingers touched for an instant and then she moved toward the bed, sitting down so quickly that he was amazed she hadn't spilled her drink all over herself.

He took the chance to pour his own champagne and reassess. This was definitely not what he'd intended. Any of it.

First of all, she wasn't supposed to come. A woman like that being commanded to do something? The only way he'd fathomed her actually showing up was if her house had been set on fire.

And then the way she looked...

It was hard enough to resist her in the office, but with the way the satin of her green dress hugged her body, she looked like she was made to be shown off. Or, at the very least, to be touched and treasured.

With her dark hair swept back, her chestnut eyes looked even rounder and more beautiful.

And still, all of that wasn't the problem.

The problem was Natalie.

He wanted her, sure. But not like this.

The more he thought about all his other casual hook-ups, the women who came and went in order to get their names in lights for a day or two, the more he was sure Natalie wasn't like that. Didn't deserve that.

And even if nobody knew they were there, did that change the sinking feeling he had in his stomach when he thought about taking advantage of her?

No. He couldn't go through with it.

Not tonight.

"Natalie, I think we made a mistake."

She blinked, pursing her lips together but not daring to speak.

"I shouldn't have brought you up here."

"Because you're my boss?" She sipped from her glass, and though her head tilted to show her interest in his words, she still didn't bother to move from her spot.

"No, I have faith in your ability to be professional. It's not that. It's...this just doesn't seem right."

"Doesn't seem right?" She parroted the words back to him, but they sounded more hollow than when he'd uttered them. She moved from the bed, then sat her flute on the nightstand and marched toward him.

"This doesn't seem right but calling me into a meeting, blackmailing me, and attempting to seduce me is totally cool with you?"

"I never meant it to be that way--"

"But it was that way. And then, when I work up the nerve to show up here and go through with this, to this place of all places--"

"What do you--?"

"No. I talk." She crossed her arms over her chest, pushing her heaving cleavage up even higher. The familiar blush of her rage spread over her cheeks and he stared down at her. He should have been concerned, but somehow, watching her like this, all he could think was that if her hair was slightly more mussed, that glow on her cheeks would make her look freshly fucked.

His cock throbbed at the thought, and he tightened his jaw, readying himself for whatever attack she had in store.

"I'm not going to be pushed around like this. You want me or you don't. Make up your mind." He opened his mouth to argue, to explain to her that he wanted her, but not like this.

He wanted her when she wanted him.

But that choice was made for him when she grabbed his collar with surprising force and pulled his lips down toward hers.

He hadn't meant to kiss her back. A part of him knew, had always known, that as soon as they touched a line would have been crossed that neither of them would be able to erase.

But her lips were so warm and soft that he couldn't resist, he parted them with his tongue, then slid along her teeth, teasing out her own tongue until they massaged each other.

If he hadn't known better, he might have thought Natalie had been waiting for this for a long while. The way she kissed him, with so much enthusiasm and exuberance, filled him with warmth that spread through his entire body and made his aching cock that much stiffer.

Without thinking, he wrapped his hands around her waist and pulled her tighter against him, until he was sure that she could feel his hot bulge against her stomach.

If he couldn't bring himself to move away, maybe that would make her leave. Or at least realize the severity of the situation.

Instead, she pushed onto her tiptoes and rubbed against him, working him through her pants until he closed his eyes and bit her lip.

She moaned, biting him back, then sliding her hands beneath his shirt and teasing his muscles.

For a minute, he wondered if she could feel how fast his heart was beating through his skin, but he didn't care. He only wanted to feel her soft flesh rubbing him up and down, the gentle scrape of her nails along his obliques.

He released her lips, then closed his lips over her earlobe, nibbling and licking, and then blowing cool air on the skin there until she shivered in his arms.

Then he began guiding her back, tracing the length of her neck with sweet, soft kisses as his hands dipped beneath her skirt and felt the creamy softness of her outer thighs.

How many times had he wanted to do this? In the middle of the office? In the middle of a meeting? In the middle of the street?

And still, she felt even smoother than he'd imagined, her toned thighs flexing against his touch and he went up and up and up...

Then there was the undeniable sensation of lace against the pads of his thumbs. Rough and sexy lace. All he had to do was push it aside, feel the juncture of her thighs, work her into a frenzy.

His gaze met hers for an single instant and he realized that they were both holding their breath.

This was the moment. Now or never.

It was still a bad idea, he knew that much, but he wasn't sure it was so bad not to risk it. Garret had told him not to. And Eliza. And Rachael, too.

But he defied any man alive to stared at a flushed Natalie Gains and walk away.

Luckily, though, she spared him the decision again.

"This is wrong." Natalie crabbed onto the mattress, then swung around the side and rolled to her feet. He didn't think it was possible, but her face became still redder, and she snatched up her coat and purse so quickly that he was shocked she hadn't winded herself.

"I'm sorry," he started.

Dammit.

What was his problem with her?

He never would have acted this way with anyone else.

With anyone else he would have walked away long enough and left them in his dust.

Now, though...

Now it wasn't so easy.

"It's not your fault. I just," she swallowed, swinging her purse onto her shoulder as she bum rushed the door, "I just realized something. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Na—" But it was no use. The door clicked behind her and she was gone.

Just as well, he supposed. He didn't know what he'd say to her anyway.

And even if he did, how would he be able to explain that in spite of everything—the weirdness and the extreme measures--
everything
.

He still wasn't ready to give up?

N
atalie tapped
her fingernails on her desk, then flipped through one page after the other of the latest tabloid. The good news was, there was no Franco today.

The bad news was there was also no Brooks.

She'd gotten to the office extra early this morning, hoping to gauge the amount of weirdness between them and decide whether or not to call things off, but as far as she could tell he'd taken a sick day.

She hadn't gotten a single emergency message from Eliza and nobody had dropped by her desk to leer at her, so that could only mean one thing, right?

But why would he do that to her? Why would he force her to sit there and wait and wonder what things were going to be like between them? Things had just been so awkward and then, all of the sudden not awkward at all.

Like her body knew him better than the rest of her did.

She squeezed her thighs together at the memory and shook her head. If he wasn't here today, that could only mean he was avoiding her. Which, naturally, meant he didn't want to see her again.

Which she was fine with.

More than fine with.

She could totally live the rest of her life without finding out where things were going before they'd stopped. Totally.

"Another delivery for you." Eliza plopped a fresh bouquet of roses onto her desk, then bent down to smell them.

"I'm beginning to hate roses." She muttered. In what was now a ritual, she plucked the card from amid the flowers, tore it up, and dropped the pieces into the trash. Eventually, she was going to have to call Franco about this. He’d be able to put an end to it.

But what would happen after that?

"I'd be happy to take them off your hands again." Eliza smiled.

"Go right ahead." She cleared her throat, then, in her best casual voice, asked, "hey, did Brooks not come in today?"

Eliza grinned "Why? Last night was a success? Does he need to drop off your panties?"

"No, no, nothing like that." Natalie glanced around. Any one of the other women in the office could have heard, and based on the ear-splitting silence around them, it wasn't too far-fetched to think they already had. "Hey, try to keep it down, okay? There's nothing happening."

And even if there had been, that was clearly over now. She'd shot any chance of that straight through the heart when she spazzed out.

Eliza wasn't so keen to let it go as Natalie might have hoped, though. The woman was practically sitting on top of her desk, crushing files beneath her plaid skirt as she moved. "So, you didn't go last night?"

"Drop it, okay?"

"Oh, you
did
go."

A few desks overs, one of the other assistants glanced at them in what was clearly a failed attempt at appearing nonchalant.

"
It doesn't matter
," Natalie said through gritted teeth. "Someone is going to hear you."

"In which case you'll be the envy of the office."

"Look, just send him over when he gets here. He has papers to sign." She shot another glance at Maria, and though the woman wasn't looking at them, the too-fast clicking of her keyboard gave away her second failed attempt at spying.

Eliza sighed. "Dammit. I could have sworn I checked for those. I'm going to learn how to do this job even if it kills me."

"Relax, it's just leftover paperwork. Is he coming in late or should I just figure out something else to do with it?" Like, say, for example, try to sort out what it was she was going to get him to sign since all of his paperwork had been transferred to Eliza a week ago.

But that was beside the point. If she could only see his face and gauge where they were, things would be okay.

She just had to see him first.

"What?" Eliza hopped off the desk, then glanced at the door that had been haunting Natalie all day. "Oh no, Brooks—er, Mr. Adams—is here. Has been all morning."

Natalie's throat went dry. "What? But I got here early and..."

And what? Had clearly been avoiding her? Because she was weird and awkward and they could clearly never work together or see each other again?

Considering the circumstances, she might have thought that'd be good news. This was her chance to go the rest of her life without Brooks Adams. And yet...

Eliza shrugged. "I can't keep track of him. He must have come in before you."

Something a whole lot less graceful than a butterfly fluttered in her stomach. Should she just go along with the ruse? But if she did, how long would she have to sit here like an idiot, waiting to read his expression?

No, this was what a guy like Brooks would
want
her to do.

He'd want her to obsess and worry until she'd convinced herself that all she wanted was his approval.

Well, fat chance of that, buster. She wouldn't give him that satisfaction. If things were going to be weird and quiet, it would be on her terms, not his.

Of course, that also meant she had to force herself to see him.

"Hello? Natalie?" Eliza waved a hand in front of Natalie's face and she blinked back into focus.

"Sorry."

"I said, do you want me to take those papers for him to sign

"No, uh, I'll just grab them and bring them over myself. Because, you know, I'm going on lunch soon and the papers need to be rushed out. It'll probably be easier on you, really. If I just do it myself, I mean."

Eliza blinked. "Uh...good to know? Should I let him know you're coming?"

Great. Now even Eliza knew she was spazzing out.

She took a deep breath.

Get it together. Come on, you can do this.

Girl power.

Or something less lame than that.

"Better not. It'll only be a second and I'm sure he'd jump at the chance to torment me." She opened her desk drawer and pulled out the first piece of paper she could find.

"Right, well, good luck with all that. I'm going to grab a coffee. You want something?" Eliza asked. "Maybe a chill pill?"

"Haha. Very funny." She shook off the comment, then squared her shoulders and pushed out of her desk chair. With quick, purposeful strides, she made her way to that damned wooden door.

She was going to do this.

She'd face him and make things less awkward. She'd explain that what they'd done had been a mistake. That she could be totally professional from here on out.

Just so long as she never had to look at him. Or smell him. Or think about how rough his skin had felt against hers...

A surge of need rushed between her thighs, but she blocked it out, closing her hand around the doorknob and twisting with all her might.

Everything was going to be fine.

Or, at least she thought it would be until she saw him.

He was sitting behind his desk, phone in hand and his feet kicked up on his desk. For all she could tell, he could have been napping. Like he didn't have anything on his mind.