Feel the Heat: A Contemporary Romance Anthology (76 page)

After inputting Frank’s number, I analyzed the card. Breaking the silence that had followed my half-finished comment, I said, “Bricklayer. I didn’t realize bricklayers had cards.”

“Maybe he owns the company.”

“Maybe…”

“Maybe he piles the bricks on top of the bodies he buries.”

“Getting warmer…”

“That guy was intense.” Brad laughed and signaled the bartender. When he came over, Brad said, “A dry gin martini with a twist in a short glass and a margarita on the rocks, no salt.”

“Ordering cocktails like a boss, huh?”

“I’m usually a beer man, but I hate being an individual. You’re drinking cocktails. Hence, I have to drink cocktails, albeit in a manly way.”

“Which is why you don’t want a martini glass?”

“Part of the reason.” He reached over and snatched up my phone.

“Hey,” I said.

He yanked it away from my reaching hands, probably knowing I wouldn’t push the issue and risk falling off my stool again. He swiped and went to work before continuing. “The other is that I always spill martini glasses.”

I chuckled while trying to look over his big shoulder. It was a futile effort. A moment later he pushed the button to blacken the screen and then handed it back. “Now you have my number. Use it if you need anything.”

“I probably won’t,” I mumbled as I pushed it aside.

The drinks showed up and I took a sip. My taste buds tried to backpedal and my stomach started waving in horror and screaming, “No, no, no, don’t bring that down here!”

“Oh man,” I said, grimacing. I blew out a breath that I could probably light on fire. “That is pure tequila.”

“Sip?” Brad reached for it, pushed the straw to the side, and had a taste.

“Afraid to catch my germs?”

“I’d love to catch your germs, but no. It’s impossible to look cool while drinking out of a straw.” His face contorted spectacularly. “Ooohhhh, wow. Yeah, that’s intense.”

I took the drink back and set it gently on the bar. I’d have to take another sip, because it was right in front of me, but I was dreading it a little. That thing had a mean bite to it. “How many rules do guys have regarding cocktails?”

“If I told you…”

“Dang it! I knew you were hinting that you’d try to kill me. I better call Frank.”

“No, you’d laugh. And since you’d be laughing
at
me, I need to keep it to myself.” He laughed, clearly joking.

“I see.” I looked away because I couldn’t stop smiling. He was so witty and fun, but so hot and strong at the same time. His every word rang with confidence, but he never shoved that confidence in my face. This was a man who didn’t have anything to prove. And at no point did it feel like he was hitting on me. It felt like we were hanging out. As friends.

I was totally digging it. And if I didn’t think I’d eventually fly off the handle and
he’d
need to call Frank to protect himself, I’d almost say I was crushing on him.

As it was, I was simply enjoying the view and the chatter.

“Tell me true,” I said, thinking about all his strength and confidence. “Did Frank scare the be-jeepers out of you? I won’t laugh. Be honest.”

He braced his elbows on the bar and his biceps flared. His white T-shirt pulled tight across the shoulders, stretching at the seams. For the first time, I saw a spark of something in his eyes. In a moment, it was gone. “Scare me? No. But I’ll admit that he did get me riled up. Hard to see an advance like that and not step forward to meet it.”

“Hard not to? Hell, I was ready to run.”

I noticed that flare again. Like liquid fire flash-boiling in his sea-foam gaze. It lingered this time. Yes, this was a man who did not back down from a challenge. “He was looking out for you, though. He didn’t know me from Adam. Can’t begrudge a man for doing the right thing.”

My heart squished a little, which was overshadowed by my lady bits roaring with heat. I absently fanned my face and took a gulp of my drink, forgetting about its potency.

Too late.

The fire raced down my throat and pooled in my stomach. “Holy crap is this drink strong.” I set it down and leaned back against the bar chair to get away.

“So,” he said, like there was something on his mind.

“So,” I replied, guarded.

“What was with the
ew
comment?”

Thrown off kilter, again, I couldn’t help the chuckles. “Ew comment?”

“Yeah. You face-dove into my crotch and said ‘ew.’ It was muffled, but I heard. And more importantly, my dick heard. That is emotional baggage in the making, right there…”

My chuckles escalated into belly laughs. “Sorry. It’s just that—ha ha ha! Just that sometimes guys don’t wash properly, and their junk smells.”

He stared at me like I had two heads. “Come again?”

“Well, right? That’s just it.” I wiped my eyes, unable to stop the guffaws. “You guys wank off and create a mess. Then you use the restroom without wiping, and sweat, and…” I fell against the bar with laughter shaking my body. I wiped another tear and then laughed harder at the expression on his face. “See what I mean? And guys aren’t known for being the cleanest gender. It’s a witch’s brew of filth. I didn’t want to smell it through your zipper.”

Heat flared in his eyes, just for a moment, before his expression melted back into feigned indignation. “I wash, thank you very much. My junk, as it were, is clean.”

“Really? When did you shower last?”

“After the beach.”

“Okay. And your last spank session?”

He stared at me for a moment, his eyes darkening. My core tightened and a strange sort of adrenaline filled my body, speeding up my pulse and forcing out a wave of perspiration.

Flight or fuck reflex.

B
rad’s voice dropped an octave
. “During.” It came out slow and syrupy, coating me in images of his muscular shoulders and perfectly flat, bumpy abs tensing while he stroked himself.

“Well, then,” I squeaked, flames licking my middle. The memory of his soft touch on my foot blossomed a hunger that I couldn’t quench. I wanted that touch to feather up my inner thigh and then work my clit while he moved inside me.

“I should bathroom.” What was I, two? “Use the bathroom, I mean.”

“Take your time.”

“Is my drink safe with you?”

“I’d rather not have Frank show up at my hotel room with a hammer and a body bag. So yes, your drink is safe.” Though his tone was teasing, that hunger didn’t leave his eyes. His gaze tracked me like prey.

For the first time in my life, I wanted to be hunted.

Oh holy crap, this is all going tits up.
I slid off the stool, stumbled, dodged the hand he held out to help me, and staggered to the bathroom with pounding lady-wood.

Ten minutes later, I was back on track. All it took was a little water on the face, a grimace at the red patch on my forehead and tip of my nose, and a thorough berating in the mirror.

I returned to my stool as a woman on a mission. No more losing my cool.

“Right. All set.” I nodded at him decisively and eyed my drink. “Fire in the hole!” Down went another gulp.

“What are these?” Brad tapped my slide printouts.

I rolled my eyes. “They are pieces of crap, that’s what they are.”

“You said it’s a presentation, right?”

“Yeah.” I offered him a world-weary sigh. “I work with this group of fairly useless guys. Their daddies paid their way into good schools, they barely got by, and then their connections got them mediocre jobs.”

“So basically, they are failing in the rich man’s game, but are too ignorant to know it?” Brad asked.

“Wow. Astute.” I melted a little as I met his gaze. He was still hot as sin. My newfound determination to stay chaste didn’t change that.

Tearing my eyes away, I continued, “I went to a mediocre school, so I got a corresponding job. I had a few offers, which were all largely the same, and chose the one with free breakfast one day a week.”

“I hate when a decision made with my stomach goes wrong.”

“Yes, exactly. It’s the
worst
.” I nodded solemnly. “I’m the newest member of the team. I’m also the only girl. I’m
also
the only one not from money. And guess what? I’m the only smart one who actually earned the job.”

“And the last one who will get promoted, if ever.”

“Probably never, that’s right. Well. The company is limping along, and the boom they saw, which prompted my hire, is now declining.”

“Someone has to go.”

“Apparently this story isn’t fresh. Right again, professor. But—”

“The conflict of the story.”

“—we have this one shot to land a big account. Land the account, and we can keep our current level of revenue.”

“And you keep your job.”

“Should I continue, or do you know the ending?”

He smiled, devilishly handsome. “Let me give it a try. You are the smartest in the bunch, right?”

I nodded. That was easily the case.

He mimicked my nod. “But no way would you be chosen to lead the pitch. So one of the other guys—the most alpha male of the bunch, I assume—was chosen. He knows how to cheat to get ahead, so he listens to everything you say, lets you do most of the work, and, when the boss comes around, claims your work as his.”

“Ha! I wish!” I said. Brad’s expression crumpled into confusion. “Nope. At least then we’d probably get the account. The boss is the leader, he asked us to give him something, I came up with a foolproof plan, and the other guys voted me off the island. They then mucked everything up, and now I’ll be presenting a bunch of garbage on slides that could’ve been done by a three-year-old. Worse, their explanations don’t make much sense, so I don’t even know…” I paused, at a loss. “I don’t even know. It’s a shit-storm, and I’m the weather guy. But I had a really good idea!”

Before I knew it, I’d launched into the nature of the product, the angle my boss wanted me to sell, and my desired angle for the pitch. Coaxed on by tequila and his polite gaze, I gave him all the details. He listened good-naturedly, never once interrupting. He even offered various sounds and mannerisms as an audience member, like a well-placed scoff or decisive nod.

When I was done, I sighed in relief and gave a sheepish smile. “Sorry for that babble-fest. I needed to get that off my chest.”

“Not at all. And I assume that even though they aren’t using your idea, they’re having you do the presentation in hopes your beauty will blind the buyer?”

My groin spared a little heat so it could rush to my face. I smoothed my hair, a futile effort. “Or something.”

“I must admit, that’s a new one. Can I see the slides?”

I passed them over. “Are you here for the convention?”

“Not really, but I’m hitting up a few classes. I’ve been to a lot of these things.” He pointed at a bad rendition of our product. “This is the widget?”

“Yes. It’s a part that goes in a processor.”

“I see.” It was clear he didn’t, but I couldn’t tell if he was thrown off by the product, which was decent as far as the market went, or by the horrendous slides. He looked on at the next slide, and the next. His expression turned from doubtful to bemused. “I think you’ll be falling on the sword.”

“Yup. And if I plead my case, my boss will say a strong leader gets what she wants, which means I’m obviously not a strong enough leader. Weakest link or newest member, doesn’t matter. Bye-bye, job.”

“Tough spot. Can you do up your own slides and go off form?”

“Same result. Not a team player? Then you shouldn’t be working here. Bye-bye. And even if we get the account, the other guys will try to get me out. They think they can handle the workload, and since the bonus is divided among the team members, they’ll get more money if I’m history.”

“But they won’t, because they’ll piss off the clients and lose accounts, thereby reducing the bottom line, thereby reducing the amount allotted for bonuses.”

“Nice work, Mr. Wizard. Clearly working with you would be a nice change. But they won’t think of any of that. And if someone told them, they’d shrug it off because they can do it, no problem. They don’t remember the mess I had to clean up.”

“Huh.” Brad handed the slides back. “So here you are, drowning your sorrows in margaritas.”

“Yup. And doing a danged fine job. Although I’m not nearly as surly now as I was earlier.”

“Pity. How do we fix that problem?”

I laughed and took the last gulp of the horrible drink. “I want another, but I don’t want one that strong. I also shouldn’t have another. So…”

Brad checked his watch. “I can walk you back.” He pointed at me. “But I’m warning you. No funny business. I don’t want to have to sic Roger on you.”

“It was Frank.”

“Him, too.”

My face was cracking from all the smiling. “Got it.” I stared at the drink, really wanting to push this tingly, half-drunk feeling to the next level. If I did that, though, I’d push the other tingly, delicious feeling to the next level, too. I didn’t just make bad decisions on tequila, I pushed others to make bad decisions with me.

“Maybe we should—”

“I’ll walk you home,” he interrupted softly, surprising me.

My heart dropped. It felt a little like a rejection, and for some reason, I didn’t want to be rejected by this guy. I didn’t want this night to be over. I was having so much fun, not to mention the glorious buzz of my body in his proximity. Getting him naked would be a real treat.

But he was definitely right. If I didn’t go now, I’d be dancing on the bar to my own tune in no time.

“I’ll get the drinks this time—”

“I got it.” Brad pulled a wad of green out of his pocket and leaned away from me to peel off a twenty and a ten. It looked like he was trying to hide his funds. He probably thought I’d check in with Frank and plan a mugging.

It wasn’t a bad idea. The guy had a nice garden of greenbacks.

“No. Seriously. It’s my turn. You’ve—” I was being helped away before I realized I’d gotten off the stool. “Dang it.” The haze of alcohol swirled around me, numbing my body. My legs wobbled. “That last drink is creeping up on me.”

“Can you make it?” he asked, his tone deep and soft. Velvet.

“Yes,” I whispered, leaning heavily into his body. His smell and his heat wrapped around me and sucked me toward him. I felt his arm curl around my shoulders, stabilizing me. Electricity surged through me wherever our skin touched, making my sexy systems growl with need.

“Where to?” he asked. His breath ruffled my hair.

We stopped on the pathway. I turned toward him and tilted my face up. He stared down at me, watching my mouth as I told him. His lips, shapely and full, were so close to mine. They parted a little, so inviting.

“Come on,” he murmured.

Body tight and loose at the same time, alternating between fire and ice, I let him lead me to my building.

The tequila took over as soon as we stepped into the elevator.

I shoved him against the wall like only Devastating Delilah would. She was a brazen heathen when she set her mind to it. His body, pliant, bounced as the doors closed. I grabbed his shirt in a fist and yanked his face down. His lips crashed into mine, a little off center but close enough.

His strong hands curled around my shoulders, clearly ready to push me off. I didn’t let it deter me. I nibbled his bottom lip before running my tongue across it.

A soft groan sounded deep in his throat. The hands on my shoulders clenched before running down my back and pulling me closer. Taking the opportunity presented, I tucked my hands under his shirt and then ran my palms up his smooth stomach.

I moaned as my hands trailed over his cut pecs. His tongue thrust into my mouth and he swung me around before pinning me to the wall with his hard body.

Ding.

“Oh my!”

Brad pushed away and then hauled me to his side. I blinked, trying to focus. An older woman stood just outside of the elevator door with wide eyes and her hand on her chest.

“I apologize, ma’am,” Brad said, glancing up at the lighted floor number before pulling me to stand in front of him with my back against his chest. He snaked his arms around my waist and squeezed me close. His hard heat pressed against me. “A few more floors, Delilah.”

With a scowl, the woman entered the elevator. She took up position on the other side before jabbing the button and pursing her lips.

I couldn’t help the giggle.

Then the moan as his lips grazed up the side of my neck.

The woman cleared her throat.

I giggled again. I felt like a teenager.

“Our stop, beautiful,” Brad said, his voice thick and heady. “Sorry again, ma’am. We’re on our honeymoon.”

“Oh. Well, congratulations,” she said disapprovingly.

I felt like I had butterflies flapping through my bloodstream. At my room, I took off my phone’s cover, extracted the key, and then opened the door. I pushed in, but slowed when I didn’t feel his presence behind me.

Confused, I turned back.

He stood in the doorway, longing plain in his features, but also reservation.

“I won’t tell Frank if you don’t,” I said, the stagger back to him hopefully looking more like a swagger.

“This isn’t right, Delilah,” he said softly, running his hands down my arms. “You’re beautiful, and I hate to say no, but you’re under the influence and I’m mostly sober. Call me tomorrow, okay?”

“But…” Why did I feel like crying?

Oh God. That was a tear.

Mayday, mayday, things are escalating rapidly in the drunk emotional sabotage department.

I wiped my face. “Ignore that. Really. Tequila is a bitch. No, but seriously, I’m green light for this. My call. Totally on me.”

He bent to me slowly. His lips grazed mine, sending twirling clowns and laughing dogs spiraling through my body. It was a circus and everyone was invited. His lips closed around my bottom lip and he sucked it before the kiss deepened. When his tongue flirted with mine, the shock of desire ran through me like a spear. It struck my core and exploded, flooding me with want.

I looped my arms around his neck and stepped back, trying to drag him with me.

He broke my hold like a wrestler.

“Sorry, Delilah. You’ll thank me in the morning. Goodnight.” His body disappeared from the doorway.

I blinked in his wake, a little disbelieving. When did men ever say no?

I thought about it for a second as somewhere in the distance an elevator chimed.

Never. They had never said no before. I’d been in this situation a few times, and I’d always gotten my way without a fight.

I backed up until I could check myself out in the mirror.

Oh Lord! What in the world was I doing running around in public looking like some sort of sea creature? Frizzy brown hair splashed out in all directions on top of my head. Dirt smeared my wrap in a couple places and across one leg. Red splotched my skin and dotted the tip of my nose.

I laughed a little to myself and let the door swing shut.

But it had been really nice of him to walk me back. I definitely would’ve gotten lost without him. Silver lining.

Blowing out a breath, I hit the shower. The big presentation was tomorrow, and then I’d probably need to job search. My weekend was off to a smashing start, but like it or not, I had to see it through.

Hopefully without seeing Brad again.