Best Erotic Romance 2014 (24 page)

She finished her business and enjoyed the luxury setting with a touch-up of lotion and reset her hairstyle. Opening the door, she found Paul standing there.

“What—?”

He pushed in, and closed and locked the door behind him.

“What are you doing? Let me out.”

“I will. Someone was coming down the hall behind me and I don't want us caught.” As if on cue, the handle jerked up and down.

She narrowed her eyes and hissed at him. “You planned that.”

He held up his hand with thumb and pinkie folded in and the other three fingers standing. “Scout's honor, I didn't. I hadn't realized you were even in this bathroom until I opened the door.”

“This is the one closest to the conference room.”

“Even more reason not to get caught with the bosses around.”

She opened her mouth, but nothing would come out. She waved her hand in front of her face as if to push him out of her mind and reached for the door.

His hand, calloused on the edges and warm, closed around her wrist. “Give it a moment in case anyone else happens to be out there and saw me come in.”

“I need to get back there.”

“Your part's done for the day. You've got time.”

She closed her eyes to block out the warm gray of his. Darts of lust radiated from where he touched her. She could not give in. So what if he thought her a runner? That was a hell of a lot better than compromising their work relationship for a one-night stand.

His thumb rubbed her inner wrist. She licked her lips.

“Come on, Jules. Give me a shot here.”

Her eyes flashed open as she felt his hot breath on the skin behind her ear. “Paul.”

“You leaving me hurt. And I don't mean physically. I thought I meant more to you.”

“We work together.”

He licked the hollow and nipped her earlobe. “We're both adults. Neither of us is the boss. Unless you want to role-play. Then I'm all over that. You can call me in to your office and reprimand me all you want.”

Her nipples hardened and her breath shuddered out. A corner of her mind was screaming to turn him down and get the hell out of there. Run far and fast. She'd done that last time. But here he was.

The fingers of his free hand ran the length of her skirt. With each pass, he edged the hem up a little bit more. “I've been wanting you for ages, Jules. It was all I could do to keep my hands off of you until the end of this project.”

Her fingers flexed into the soft flannel of his suit. Hard muscle resisted the pressure. She bit her lip. They could do this.
What happens in St. Thomas stays in St. Thomas, right?

“Jules?” His fingers skated up the inner face of her leg. Found the edge of her thigh high and traced it. Heat sizzled in her blood.

“On one condition.”

He kissed along her jawline until their eyes met. “What?”

His fingers moved closer to where the silk of her panties provided a faint barrier. Her head fell back as she reached for that final contact.

“Jules. What's your condition?”

“Only here. This can only happen here.”

His fingers paused an inch from where she was desperate to feel them. “What if I don't accept?”

The words sliced through the fog of lust wreathing her brain. “You have to.”

He shook his head, but his hands remained where they were. “I want you. I really, really want you. I want you beyond work, beyond here.”

She should be backing away, but her body refused to break from his touch. “I can only give you here and now.”

His fingers pressed in. “You can give me so much more, Jules, and I can do the same. Give us a chance.”

He didn't demand. Her life would be easier if he did. Then she could have dismissed him like she had the last coworker who thought long nights together in the office required
payback
. “I can't decide now.”

Fingertips circled in place, warming her where they touched. “How about this? We've got three days here. Let me use those three days to convince you to give us a shot beyond here.”

She drew in a deep breath. It was reasonable. Even though his hands were almost in her panties, her brains hadn't completely shorted and she knew this was an even compromise. She met his gaze. “Fine. Three days.”

The white of his teeth gleamed as he grinned. “I'm not going to let you regret it.” With that, he leaned in and kissed her.

Firm lips massaged hers. Her tongue darted out to taste him. A hint of pineapple and coffee. She moaned as his fingers finally breached the silk. He nipped her lip. “Quiet. Someone may be out there.”

Two long digits eased into her sheath, and she blocked out everything but riding them.

“That's it. Fuck my fingers.” His thumb joined in and played with her clit.

Her orgasm streaked through her and she clenched down on him.

“Fuck.”

She could feel a faint tremble where she touched him. Her lungs panted in and out as the aftershocks hit. Her muscles protested as he pulled out. She wanted his cock, but her inner alarm was ringing that their time had run out.

He eased her against the wall and went to the sink where he washed his hands and reached for a hand towel and wetted it. He handed it to her. A bit embarrassed, she turned to the corner, lifted her skirt and washed as best she could.

When she turned around, he was there. He kissed her again, and she melted against him. She felt him smile against her lips before he broke away. “Later. I'll go first. Lock the door behind me and give it a couple of minutes before coming back.”

She nodded and followed the plan after applying cold compresses to every pulse point she could reach. When she returned, it was in the middle of a heavy round of negotiations so no one paid attention to her. Once back in her seat, she clenched her thighs together and tried not to focus on Paul sitting next to her. She managed to get through the rest of the meeting without anyone commenting on her prolonged absence.

When they left for the night, Paul was cornered by one of the other acquisitions teams, so she took the opportunity to hurry back to the villa.

As soon as she locked the door behind her, she dithered. A crossroad stood before her, and she didn't know which way to turn. One direction and she could continue on as she had been with a partnership in her reach. The other, a relationship with a man who deserved a woman committed to making it work. She wasn't sure she had it in her to devote the time needed to cultivate that kind of connection.

She didn't know how long Paul would be delayed, so if she were going to do something, it had to be now. The open door
to her bedroom called to her, but where would she go? It wasn't like she could race back to New York. Exchanging the villa for a room in the main resort was downright cowardly.

She had to be honest with herself. Paul had given her one of her top five orgasms. She wanted more. Which meant she needed to truly agree to his terms of giving him a chance. What was she really afraid of?

Paul? No. She knew if things didn't work out, he'd chalk it up as an experience learned.

Herself? Possibly. Her track record in picking guys wasn't the best. Wasn't the worst either. None of her exes had ever hit or disparaged her, but neither had they done anything to live life beyond their college glory years. Paul's ambition had been one of the initial attractors for her. He wanted more and worked hard to get it.

Maybe that was it. What if Paul wanted more than she could give?
Damn, I am seriously overthinking this
. Disgusted with her waffling, she made her decision.
Like Dad always said, putting an application in doesn't mean you have to take the damn job
.

She went into her bedroom and stripped out of her suit and underwear. The faint musk that filled the room when she removed her panties set her blood to a low level simmer as she remembered the feel of Paul's fingers working her.

A knock on her door shocked her back into reality. Pulling on her robe, she hoped it was Paul. If not, she was going to plead a case of disagreeable food.

She checked the peephole and Paul stood on the other side, the lines of his suit wilting in the early evening heat. Opening the door enough to stick her head out, she looked him over. “Yes?”

His smile was easy. “How about I call room service for
dinner and meet you back here in fifteen minutes?”

“It's a little early for dinner.”

“But I can come over in fifteen minutes?”

She took a deep breath. “Sure.”

His smile widened to a grin. “Great.”

She closed the door and leaned back against it. One step at a time. She debated changing, but couldn't think of what to wear and didn't want to waste time figuring it out. In the kitchenette, she pulled out a couple of short glasses. Her first day here, she'd bought a bottle of rum but hadn't opened it.

This time the knock came from the beachside entrance. The glass door hid nothing from view. Something to remember even though people rarely wandered down this way as they were at the end of the line of villas and the beach was private property. Paul was dressed in shorts and a loose Tommy Bahama shirt. His skin had the paleness of a man who spent more time in the office than in the sun, but he had a bit of color. Probably from running. She'd once overheard him say he liked to run through Central Park at least twice a week. Light-brown hair sprinkled his arms and legs, complementing the light copper of his head and brows.

He raised his fist again and knocked while he smiled at her. She jerked out of her stasis and opened the door.

“You okay?”

She nodded. “I think so.”

He frowned. “That doesn't sound promising. Do you want me to leave?”

“Nope. I was pouring drinks in the kitchen. Do you like rum?”

His shoulders relaxed. She hadn't realized how tense he must have been. “Sure. I'll try anything once. What brand?”

“I'm not sure. I picked it up in the city market my first day
here.” She grabbed the glasses and looked at the label. Laughed. “All it says is
St. Thomas Finest
. I guess we're living dangerously.”

“I guess we are.”

She shivered as she felt the words whisper across the back of her neck. He reached around her and took the glasses and bottle without touching her. She followed him back into the sitting area. Instead of taking advantage of the love seat, he sat down in one of the club chairs. The move surprised her.

“You're being awfully circumspect.” She pulled the other club chair closer and folded her legs beneath her as she sat, pulling the hem of her robe over her knees.

“When a woman you're interested in runs off in the middle of what you thought was the beginning of an exceptional night and she gives you a second chance, you don't want to repeat the past.” He poured two fingers of rum into each glass and handed one to her.

She sipped and let the mellow liquor spread its warmth through her. “Most guys would say ‘fuck it' and forget about her.”

He met her gaze straight on. “I'm not most guys.”

She let the silence spin out between them and then set her glass back down on the table. “No, you're not.”

“Tell me why, Jules. I deserve that.”

He did. The urge to reach for the glass of liquor once again tempted, but she left the glass on the table. “I don't know if I have it in me to give a relationship, any romantic relationship, the time it deserves. I can taste a partnership. To get it, I have to work sixty or more hours a week.” She leaned forward and rested her elbows on her knees. “I love that, Paul. I love helping to put together complex deals. Even worse, if I got involved with a coworker, people might think I was only biding my time before
bagging someone for marriage.” She broke off eye contact and looked out the wall of windows to the ocean. “Everything I've worked for will be for nothing.”

“I get it.”

She turned back to him. Gave him a sad smile. “Really? I don't think a lot of guys, especially white guys, get what it's like to constantly need to prove yourself in the workplace.”

He raised his glass in acknowledgment. “We never talked about our families. My mom raised me, my sister and my brother by herself. Dad died from cancer in his thirties. He left some life insurance but it wasn't much. Mom worked her way up from office secretary to one of the top salespeople in her company. She got a lot of shit from her coworkers, and I'm sure my siblings and I don't know the half of it. I respect what you're doing, Jules. I only want the opportunity to get to know you better, and, hopefully, have you get to know me better.”

She stood and held her hand out to him.

His brows arched down into a
V
. He tilted his head up to meet her eyes. “What?”

The heat bloomed within her and she let it shine in her smile. “Come with me.”

His glass hit the edge of the table, and a few drops of rum spilled out. They both laughed, his tinged with self-deprecating humor and hers with the power he'd handed to her.