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Authors: Cari Quinn

BOOK: ProvokeMe
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Spencer fought a grin as he closed the distance between them
and braced his arm on the wall above her head.
He liked her height.
No, he
loved
it.
In her heels, they lined up just right, mouth to mouth.
She exhaled and he
smelled the fruity drinks she’d had at Kink.
Melon, cherry and pineapple wafted
over his lips and renewed hunger stirred in his gut.

That was it.
He had to see if she tasted as good as his
overactive imagination said she would.
He started to lean in but the raw need
on her face closed him down.
At the last second, he shifted his mouth away.

He couldn’t do this.
Not now, not with her.
She was his
employee.
Her eyes also revealed a lot more vulnerability than her easy manner
suggested.

“Top of the stairs, second door on the right.”

She stared at him for a long moment then nodded and slipped
out from under his arm.
He watched her stroll down the hallway and heaved out a
breath when she turned to go up the stairs.
The loosened tie around her neck
came free, giving him a glimpse of the side of her pale breasts before she
began to climb.

He rubbed a hand over the sweaty back of his neck.
As much
as he wanted a shower, he wasn’t going up there with her.
The way he was
feeling, he’d jump her before she’d had a chance to take off her shoes.

Shaking his head, he strode to the half bath off the den.
At
this point, even a cold washcloth would feel amazing.
He needed
something
to cool down.
Fast.

A couple minutes later, he stepped out of the bathroom,
wearing only his boxers.
Just as he emerged, he heard the shower turn on
upstairs.
She’d made herself right at home, hadn’t she?

He sighed and tossed his towel around his neck.
Looked as
though he’d be getting cozy with the couch tonight.

Chapter Five

 

“Stubborn bastard,” Kelly muttered, flicking her fingers
through her wet hair as she stood at the entrance to Spencer’s bedroom.
She’d
hoped to lure him upstairs by acting as if she belonged but maybe she’d
overplayed her hand.

What a shocker.
If she’d struggled with how to deal with him
before sex, reading him afterward was completely impossible.

A smile twitched her lips as she rubbed her sore back.
Her
spine bore siding marks and she had a bruised ass.
But finally getting her
hands on him had been worth every dent and ding.

She started to flip on the lights then changed her mind.
She
could make out shapes in the dark—a dresser, a chair, a big bed with a curved
footboard that felt as if it was sleigh-style under her reverent hand.
Smooth
wood was a weakness of hers, probably because she’d settled for a cheap metal
bedframe.
Her budget didn’t extend to fancy bedroom suites or—her breath
caught—silky sheets that poured through her hands like water.

She wanted to sleep in this bed.
Wanted to sleep here with
Spencer, his hard body unyielding against hers.

In business clothes, he was sexy.
Naked, he bumped sexy up
to criminal.
And from the way he’d held her against the wall, his muscles
weren’t just for show.
Sex with him in a bed where they could spread out and
play would be amazing.

Would be, but not tonight.

With a long sigh, she moved toward the chair.
She wouldn’t
sleep alone in his bed.
Along with seeming invasive, she didn’t enjoy
self-flagellation.
Smelling his shampoo and soap on her skin was bad enough.
Laying her head on his pillow would be defeatist in the extreme.

Inspiration had her turning back to tug down the neatly made
sheets.
She arranged them messily, as if someone had slept there.
She grabbed
her purse from where she’d dropped it and pulled out her perfume, then dabbed a
little near the headboard.
Just a smidgen.
This wasn’t about sending him into
sensory overload.
All she wanted was a nice little hit to remind him what he
was missing the next time he rolled into bed.

Her mood darkened as she remembered Nina.
Didn’t matter.
Her
perfume would be clinging to his sheets whether or not he slept solo.

She returned to the chair and curled up as best as she
could.
Long legs weren’t conducive to snuggling but she gave it the post-coitus
try.
Once she’d gotten into a semi-comfortable position, she dug around for her
cell phone and set her alarm for five as always.

Nothing and no one would make her late for work.

She winced as she looked at the time.
Past two already.
Yeah, she’d be a zombie tomorrow but she had a feeling good ol’ Spence wouldn’t
be taking any potshots at her for it.

Marcia, on the other hand…

Yawning, she closed her eyes and tried to relax.
Smelling
his aftershave everywhere didn’t help on that score but she forced her mind to
empty.
All she needed was a couple hours of sleep and she’d be okay.

Beep.
Beep.
Beep.

“Ah, fuck.” It couldn’t be morning.
Just couldn’t.
She
inched open one eyelid.
Spencer had a big picture window in his bedroom and the
sky had lightened to a milky gray, the moon barely visible.
Dawn would be
breaking soon.

Time to rise, shove her feet back into their torture devices
and shine.

Facing her pained eyes in the bathroom mirror made her
wince.
Her back ached like a bitch and she couldn’t find any aspirin in
Spencer’s medicine cabinet.
Of course not.
Only mere humans needed pills.
He
probably thought protein shakes and vitamins were the cure for all life’s ills.

She shut the cabinet and headed back into Spencer’s room to
retrieve her purse.
This dress was hardly work-appropriate.
She’d have to swing
by home really quick, and she’d grab some meds then.

Halfway up from where she’d bent to grab her purse, she
paused.
Home and getting there were going to be an issue at 5 a.m., weren’t
they?
She couldn’t exactly hop a bus when she didn’t know how the schedule ran
on this side of town.
Her apartment building was only about five miles away,
Spencer had claimed, but she didn’t really feel like hauling ass in her spiky
sandals.
And she would
not
be late.

If it killed her, she was going to act as if nothing that
had happened last night had rocked her in any lasting way.
She could deal.
She
was
dealing.
Spencer would never wonder if he’d messed with the wrong woman,
because she was going to make an ice cube look positively hot and bothered in
comparison.

In the meantime, she had to get home.

She dug out her cell phone and called Alana.
Time for her
lax friend to pay up for her crimes.
Although truthfully, Alana’s ditching
routine had probably helped her.
If she’d stayed with her best friend, she
wouldn’t have done anything more than watch Spencer.
She certainly wouldn’t
have run off with him.

She bit her lip to stifle a smile.
For a woman who prided
herself on her level head,
run off with
sounded pretty damn romantic.

Alana answered on the second ring.
“Kel, I’m sorry!” Alana
whispered.
So, she hadn’t struck out last night either.
Her now and then
boyfriend Ramon must’ve showed up as planned for once.
“I ran into an
old…friend, and uh, we got talking.”

Or maybe not.
“What about Ramon?”

“He was there too.” Before Kelly could question her further,
Alana asked, “What about you?”

Kelly dodged and evaded.
“Listen, I’m not home and I need a
ride,” she began, trying to slow Alana down before she got too warmed up.

Lost cause.

“You met a guy, didn’t you?”

“It’s not how it seems.” Hell, if Alana could lie about her
activities, so could she.
“I know him from work.
But I need to get to home and
change and he’s asleep.”

Or at least she assumed he was asleep.
With Spencer, nothing
was certain.

“You went home with him on a school night!
You naughty
tramp!”

Kelly grinned.
Between the two of them,
naughty tramp
was a badge of honor.
“Can you come get me?
Now?
I’m gonna be late.”

After listening to more profuse apologies from Alana, and
explanations about her car being towed, Kelly cut her off.
“Save it.
Have fun
with your friend.”

But Alana wasn’t through.
She offered to go back to Kink
with Kelly that night to make things up to her.
Which was more than a little
distressing and not because she was afraid Lan would ditch her again.

Apparently the cops hadn’t raided Kink after all.
If the
club was still open, that meant Spencer might return.
And if he returned and
the delicious Nina returned, this time they just might return together.

Unless she was there to put a stop to it.

After agreeing to Alana’s offer, she clicked off and sighed.
Great, now what?
She’d have to ask Spencer to take her home.
He couldn’t fault
her dedication to her job.

She hurried downstairs and into the living room that spread
out at the base of the stairs.
From the strewn pillows and clothes piled on the
coffee table, he’d spent the night on the couch.
She’d expected him to be a
neatnik but he clearly wasn’t.
Newspapers and magazines overflowed the wicker
basket beside the couch and a faint film of dust covered most surfaces.
The
plasma TV, however, was in pristine condition.

What did Spencer watch?
Sports?
The news channel?
Porn?

With a soft snort, she swiveled to take in his space.
Though
airy and open, the room completely lacked personality.
Everything matched but
that wasn’t saying much.
The brown couched paired well with the maroon leather
recliner and the brown-and-red-checked carpet.
She wrinkled her nose.
Okay,
that was seriously ugly.
No wonder he thought she had a flare for design if
he’d chosen something so
ugh
for his house.

She glanced back at the couch, noting the indents in the
cushions.
Cushions that were half hanging out, as if the person who’d dozed
there hadn’t slept well.
She smiled evilly.
Good.
She hoped his cock was so
hard he couldn’t even move without remembering her wrapped around him.

Speaking of Spencer’s cock, where the hell was Spencer?

She wandered through the next room, a combination den and
office.
His desk was heaped with papers and folders.
Atop the mess was a
half-eaten bag of chocolate Twizzlers.
She grinned and eased one out of the
bag, twirling it between her fingers as she imagined him working late and
noshing on candy.
If she’d had to guess, she would’ve pegged him as a protein
shake and steak stir-fry type of guy.

Curiouser and curiouser.

Her gaze drifted left and she gasped.
A full wall of
floor-to-ceiling cherry bookshelves dominated the room.
Not even a speck of
dust coated the worn volumes she hurried over to touch.
He had classics mixed
in with current favorites and his collection was as diverse as it was
extensive.
She glanced at the shelves above her head, picturing him stretching
up on his toes to reach the high titles.
Either he cleaned like a maniac in
here or these books got a lot of use.

Kelly leaned forward and lightly thunked her head against a
polished shelf.
Dear God, she’d done it now.
She’d not only found a man who
tweaked her in all the right ways, but one who liked chocolate Twizzlers and
curling up with
Of Mice and Men
.
Or maybe not curling, per se, but
still.

Oh yeah, her goose was charbroiled and ready for sandwich
meat.

When she could bear to drag herself away from the nirvana
that was his office, she walked into the small, overcrowded kitchen.
Between
the center island, the tiny breakfast table and the appliances, the room was
crammed.
She hadn’t noticed how tight the accommodations were last night but
that was probably because she’d been so horny she hadn’t been able to see
straight.

And that was
after
coming hard enough to turn her
nonexistent panties inside out.

The note on the table caught her eye.
How sweet.
Then she
picked up the piece of paper.

Went for a run.
Don’t worry about locking up when you
leave.
I’ll be back soon.

She dropped the note and let out a large—and very
fake—sniff.
Being kind was definitely Spencer’s MO.

Don’t let the door hit you in the ass.
C-ya.

He hadn’t considered she had no vehicle to leave with.
Maybe
he’d assumed she’d just walk five miles in the heels from hell.
Why bother
himself overmuch?
He had more important things to do.
Like run.

Kelly dug through her purse.
She’d just call a damn cab.
Hopefully it wouldn’t take too long.
And she’d make Spencer pay her damn fare.

She’d just flipped open her phone when her gaze landed on
the keys still sitting dead center of the table.
Car keys that belonged to the pretty
Acura parked in the drive.

Humming, she snatched them up and tossed her purse over her
shoulder.
Maybe she wouldn’t be late after all.

* * * * *

She’d stolen his damn car.

Spencer stopped at the base of his driveway and stared at
the place where his car had been an hour ago.
Not even a spot of water from the
A/C remained.

He bent at the knees and focused on his breathing.
Though he
habitually exercised in the morning, he didn’t usually run as if salvation
waited at the end.
He didn’t usually leave beautiful women alone all night in
his bed either, but today was a day for firsts.

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