Read The Deal with Love (One on One) Online

Authors: Jamie Wesley

Tags: #one-night stand, #fling, #office romance, #own voices, #Lovestruck, #POC, #contemporary romance, #coworkers, #sport, #NBA, #sports romance, #category, #Romance, #diverse, #basketball

The Deal with Love (One on One) (3 page)

BOOK: The Deal with Love (One on One)
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“Damn, woman, you’re killing me.” He yanked the zipper on the side of her dress down. She barely had time to step out of the garment before he swept her up in his arms like she was a petite southern belle. It was all very sexy and romantic.

Until he stumbled. Over the champagne bottle, apparently, because it clanked as it hit the ground and rolled across the roof.

“Shit,” Christian said as they went stumbling, his grip on her loosening. Elise grabbed onto his shoulders like that could stop their slow-motion tumble into the Land of Embarrassment.

They landed in a tangle of limbs on one of the chaise longues dotting the roof. Her face buried in his chest, Elise laughed. So much for sophistication.

“Is this the part where I tell you another pick-up line to distract you from how low my self-esteem is right now?” he mumbled.

She laughed harder, her shoulders shaking. “Do your best,” she said in between giggles.

“Not with you laughing at me like that. I have a better idea.” He pushed himself up on the chaise and drew her up on her knees to straddle him.

“I do like the way you think. This is
much
better.” She zeroed in on his lips. It had been too long since she’d kissed him—at least two minutes. She was already addicted and needed another fix. As soon as their mouths touched, their misadventure was forgotten. As crazy as it sounded, he’d become an even better kisser in the interim, winding her up, sending fresh waves of arousal cascading through her.

She dug her nails into his muscled shoulders to maintain some sense of equilibrium, though it took everything she had in her. Especially when her bra gave way and his fingers found her nipples, which tightened under his expert touch. How she loved a man who could multitask. He lightly tugged on her nipples, sending a flash of heat through her. Her nails dug deeper into his shoulders. She couldn’t stop a groan of her own from spilling out.

“Come here,” he muttered, his voice gruff with arousal. He gripped her butt and drew her up, an action that put her breasts at his mouth level. He didn’t waste any time, tonguing her right nipple. Around and around he went, then he drew as much of her breast into his mouth as he could. He bit down on the nipple, sending twin spasms of pleasure and pain straight through her body to land between her legs. Then he switched to the other breast. His hand slipped between her legs. He had to feel how wet she was. How close she was to falling over the edge. He scraped her clit with a fingernail.

“Look what I found,” he whispered against her mouth.

Shameless, she parted her legs wider, needing what he could give her. Christian obliged, slipping a finger inside her. Her muscles happily clamped down on him. He added another finger. She moaned her approval, the only sound she was capable of at the moment.

With his mouth on her breasts and his hand in between her legs, he played her like a piano, hitting all the right notes. The torture was exquisite. She was barely hanging on, but he kept her right on the edge. She ground against his erection, seeking some relief. She tried to gather her thoughts and remember how to speak. “Christian, I-I need…”

“Take what you want.” His voice, low and filled with arousal, rolled through her. Exactly what she needed to hear.

She scrambled to undo his belt. His fly came next. Greedy hands tucked inside and wrapped around the part of him she wanted to see the most. So warm, large. Hard. Perfect. So close to being hers. Inside her. Just one problem. She leaned back. “I need to take my panties off.”

He ripped them off.

She blinked. “Oh. That was—” The hottest thing she’d ever seen. She was gloriously naked on a rooftop in downtown Dallas, and there was no place she’d rather be. No one she’d rather be with, even if she barely knew Christian. But she knew him just well enough to know the orgasm that was surely heading in her direction would be first class. The only way to fly.

She squeezed him again, her hands moving at the same rate and speed as his fingers inside her. She wanted to lick him like a lollipop. But not as much as she wanted him inside her. Maybe next time…

Wait.
What?
This was supposed to be a one-time deal. No, it
was
a one-time deal. Then she couldn’t think, because he did something ridiculously wonderful with his fingers, hitting the spot inside her that made her cry out in wonder. Panting, she edged perilously close to her release. He knew, damn him, because he slowed his movements, barely grazing her.

“Christian, you’ve tortured me enough.”

“I have?” Silky. Dangerous. Thrilling.

Her voice came out shaky. “That wasn’t supposed to be a challenge. It’s—it’s just that…”

“You’re close.” He circled her clit with a finger as he conversed like he was in complete control. Probably because he was.

Her answer came out as a strangled moan. She kissed him in desperation and crushed her breasts to his hard chest, loving the way they felt against the light dusting of hair that covered his skin. She reached down and squeezed him one more time.

He hissed out a curse. “Get the condom.”

She nodded. With shaky fingers and a few attempts that went nowhere, she opened the clasp of her purse and retrieved the condom. “Should I put it on?”

“Pretty sure there’s nothing in the world that would make me happier.”

She gripped him and rolled on the latex. He sucked in a breath, his hold on her hips tightening. No, he wasn’t as in control as she’d thought. Then his eyes locked on to hers. His purpose was clear. He was going to take her and make sure she enjoyed every moment of it. He pulled her forward and positioned her over him. Her muscles stretched to accommodate him. He was careful, letting her adjust before he pressed for more. It was a tight fit, but oh-so-good.

“Elise,” he whispered, wonder in his voice. Wonder she shared.

The ride was slow. Divine. They moved in perfect sync.

The connection was too real. Too intimate. She broke eye contact and pressed her mouth to his shoulder. She sucked on the succulent sienna flesh. Slowly, the rhythm picked up. As the storm surged inside her, she held on as tightly as she could, determined to survive. Not sure if she would. Then the waves crashed over her in unrelenting crests. She cried out, sinking into the swell of feeling flowing through her. Christian picked up his pace, his grip on her tightening. His guttural groan came a second later.

When she came to her senses some time later, she was still panting. Still holding on to Christian like she never intended to let go. Something she never did. As casually as she could, she said, “We should get going.”

She tried to move away, but he stopped her with a hand at her back. “There’s no rush. It’s comfortable. Quiet. No one here to disturb us.”

Snuggling wasn’t usually her MO, but his shoulder under her cheek felt so good, his hard chest pressed against hers. She was much too relaxed to argue. Or move. Being close to him, satisfied, was where she wanted to be. “Okay.”

Time slipped away as they stayed there, not talking, not moving.

“Elise?” he murmured, finally breaking the silence.

“Hmm?” she asked absently, her concentration mostly centered on how the solid thunk of his heartbeat against her chest soothed her.

“What’s the deal with your father?”

She stiffened, her lethargy forgotten. “What are you talking about?”

Christian lightly ran a hand up and down her spine. “Don’t try to kid a kidder. You did everything in your power to avoid him tonight, even dragging me, a virtual stranger, up here.”

Once again, he proved he saw too much. She’d held so much in for so long. All the doubts. All her hopes for the future. Maybe because of the lateness of the hour, the darkness, the alcohol, their nakedness, the orgasm, she felt more comfortable with him than she’d felt in a long time. Usually, by this time, she’d already gathered her clothes and was waving good-bye. With him, however, the defensiveness she wore like a shield no longer seemed impenetrable or even necessary. “My father sees me as a child. Someone he has to protect and guide.”

“He loves you.”

“He does, and I love him. We’re the only family we have. But I wish he’d see me as capable. As someone who has more to offer the team than what I’m currently offering.”

He drew lazy circles on her back, his voice still soft and encouraging. “Like what?”

Elise bit her lip. Could she tell him? Would he laugh at her? Stare at her in disbelief?

As if sensing her hesitancy, he said, “You can tell me.”

She gathered herself and sat back on his hard thighs to look him in the eye. “I want to be the team’s general manager. The current GM is about to retire, and I want to take his spot.”

“And be the first female general manager in one of the four major professional sports leagues in the U.S.”

“Yes.”

“You set your sights high, huh?”

“The only way. Being the assistant GM is not where I want my story to end.”

A shadow crossed his face, but he nodded. “Why is your father opposed to the idea?”

A question she asked herself every day. “I don’t know if he thinks I can’t do the job or if it’s because he doesn’t understand what drives me. Which is strange because if anyone should understand drive, it should be him.”

“You want to prove you have what it takes.”

“But what if I don’t?” The question slipped out before she could stop it. She never talked about the doubts that plagued her. She wanted the responsibility of being a GM, true, but she also knew she could fail. Nothing was guaranteed, no matter how hard you worked or prepared. Especially when there were others who wouldn’t want you to succeed and who could—and would—sabotage you.

“You can’t fail at something if you don’t even try it.”

She laughed, the tension in her shoulders abating a bit. It felt good. “I like your logic.”

“Dreams are good. Living life with regrets sucks. Just make sure you don’t forget to live life. Work isn’t everything.”

“Yes, sir.” Her head tilted to the side. “What do you do for a living?”

“I’m a teacher.”

Her eyes widened. “Really? That’s awesome. How did you get this physique being a teacher? Teach P.E. or something?”

His mouth quirked. “No. I just work out and play rec sports when I get the chance.”

“Thank you for your need to be in shape. It has pleased me to no end tonight.” She rose onto her knees and clasped her hands together as a delightful thought occurred to her. “Please tell me you’re a kindergarten teacher. That would be the cutest thing ever.”

He shook his head. “Sorry to disappoint, but I teach high school media.”

“You’re a
high school
teacher? You’re molding the minds of America’s future leaders at their hormone rage-iest? Brave man. Do a lot of your students have crushes on Mr. Monroe?”

“I wouldn’t know.”

Elise’s eyes narrowed. “Are you blushing? I think you’re blushing.”

“Men, especially black men, don’t blush.”

“Except you are. I see a little red on those cheekbones.”

His eyebrow arched. “We can continue to talk about figments of your imagination or…”

“Or what?”

He cupped her breast. His other hand found the spot between her legs that was already aching for what he could give her. “Or we could find something else to do.”

She should say no. That she needed to leave. She
should
leave. But she didn’t want to. Not yet. And that scared her because she never let anything, or anyone, distract her after she made up her mind. And she had a feeling that Christian Monroe would prove to be the definition of distracting.

He twisted his fingers. A gasp was the only verbal response she was capable of giving.

“Elise?” he asked, his voice all silky temptation.

Temptation she couldn’t resist. “Yeah…I-I think that could work.”

For tonight, anyway.

Chapter Three

Seventeen days later (but, really, who was counting?)

Christian’s desk phone rang. In the middle of trying to decipher the handwriting of a kid undoubtedly more comfortable typing on a computer than writing by hand, he absently picked up the receiver. “Hello.”

“Hi, Christian,” Tina, his school’s receptionist, said. “You have a visitor.”

He did? He didn’t remember scheduling any parent-teacher conferences, but it was possible a parent had taken it upon her or himself to come see him without an appointment. “Who is it?”

“Elise Templeton.”

He froze. Shock swept through his body. As did some other emotion he refused to identify as happiness.

“Christian?”

He cleared his throat. “I’ll be right there.” The walk to the office would give him time to clear his head and think about what to say.

On the way there, one question dominated his thoughts. What could she possibly want, showing up at his job out of the blue, no less? School had let out half an hour ago, and wonder of wonders, there were no students hanging out in his room today—which meant he didn’t have to worry about witnesses to this meeting or whatever the hell it was. Certainly not a reunion.

Just because he’d taken more cold showers over the past two weeks than he had after discovering internet porn as a hormone-crazed teen didn’t mean anything. They’d had a one-night stand. Also known as the hottest sexual encounter of his life, but still, a one-night stand.

Except Elise had shown up here. After not returning any of his calls. No time like the present to find out why.

He rounded the corner. And there she was.

Her back was turned to him, giving him an opportunity to look his fill. He started at the shoes, because the shoes got to him. Just like the night of his sister’s party, she had on staggering heels. That night, she’d worn silver heels that did amazing things for legs that were amazing all on their own. She wore black patent leather pumps today. He wanted to fuck her with nothing but those shoes on.

No. Shit. He was over that. When a woman blew you off twice, you learned your lesson.

His gaze moved upward. She wasn’t wearing a purple cocktail dress that offered tempting peeks of walnut-colored skin. A dress that had acted as a beacon to him that night. Didn’t matter. Sexiness emanated from her anyway. The pencil skirt was perfectly modest even as it clung to an ass he’d cupped in his hands as he’d thrust into her. A white silk shirt was tucked into the skirt. A belt cinched around her waist, which served to highlight the curve of her hips. Her black hair was caught up in a bun. An image of his hands sliding into the curly masses and bringing her mouth close for a kiss that had knocked him on his ass rose in his mind.And caused his step to falter. Shit.

Elise was laughing and talking to Tina. It was the same carefree laugh he’d heard when he’d tripped over the bottle. A smile tugged at his lips at the memory. Damn, she got to him. Abruptly, her laughter cut off like she’d sensed his presence. Or more likely his stare boring into her back.

She turned. And was as gorgeous as he remembered. Heart-shaped face. Wide-set, dark brown eyes. Luscious lips that had haunted his dreams for more than two weeks.

“Christian,” she said in her smoky tone that sent a shiver down his spine.

Aware that Tina, the school town crier, was eyeing them both way too intently, he forced some cheer into his voice. “Elise, hi. Please come with me.”

Elise said good-bye to Tina and sauntered out of the room. They didn’t speak as they made their way to his classroom, the only sound coming courtesy of the click-clack of those shoes of hers on the tile floor.

Christian shut the door behind her and turned the lock. He didn’t want anyone disturbing them. He needed answers, and he needed them now. He gestured toward a chair and sat opposite her. She crossed one leg over her knee. Just like she’d done the night of his sister’s engagement party. Like then, he tried not to notice the shapeliness of her legs. Like then, he failed.

Unacceptable.

“What are you doing here, Elise?”

She glanced around the room. He tried to see the room through her eyes. She was wealthy, had grown up that way. What would she think of his room in this public school? Not the latest and greatest in equipment but solid. Computers, video cameras, the usual. They got the job done. Motivational posters encouraging students to do their best graced the walls. Twenty desks, some beat up, dotted the room. She took it all in before turning her gaze back to him.

“How have you been?” she asked. Damn. That voice. She couldn’t not be sexy if she tried.

“I’m fine,” he said. And he was. Once he realized that she wasn’t going to call him back and that calling her again made him look like a fool, he’d stopped and moved on with his life. Until he fell asleep at night. “What can I do for you? There has to be a reason you showed up here out of the blue.” He sounded brisk even to his own ears.

“I’m returning your call,” she said calmly.

That’s
how she wanted to play this? He crossed his arms. “In person?”

“In person.” Her gaze didn’t falter. He had to give her credit for that. If he were interested in giving credit.

“Why now? I would’ve thought you were too busy to come down here.”

“I am, but I needed to speak with you.” Her hands tightened on the straps of her purse. He didn’t know why he noticed such a small action. Well, yeah, actually he did. Because he noticed everything about her. Damn her.

Her chin lifted, determination filling her eyes. She’d recovered from her small lapse of confidence. “Pretty soon my father is going to come to you with a proposition. When he does, I want you to decline.”

Christian struggled not to show his surprise. He didn’t know what he’d expected to hear, but that sure as hell wasn’t it. “Why don’t you back up and tell me what’s going on?”

She shifted in the hard, plastic chair. “You may not have heard, but last week I was named the general manager of the Stampede.”

He’d heard. At that point, it had all become clear to him. Why she hadn’t returned his calls. She was too busy. “Congratulations. I know that’s what you wanted.”

Again he noticed the stiffening of her fingers on her purse. Was he not supposed to bring that up? What they’d revealed to each other that night?

“Thanks,” she said. “This is an exciting time in my life. I couldn’t be happier about this opportunity.”

“But?” he said, because surely there was more to the story.

“But some people aren’t excited about my success. They think I got the job simply because of who my father is, and that bothers them. Others are more concerned about my gender. They assume that I couldn’t possibly know anything about professional basketball because I’m a woman. None of that worries me much, but my father is concerned about the reaction, although he’s the one who appointed me to the position.”

Was she hurt by that? Her voice hadn’t changed. Neither had the expression on her face. But it had to be tough knowing she didn’t have the full support of her father.

“My father wants someone to film me for a week and use the footage to pitch a TV special to the NBA league office about who I am and what I do and have it air on NBA TV.”

“Okay,” Christian said slowly.

“He’s convinced of his brilliance. I’m not,” she said more forcefully. “I’m trying to run an organization. The best way to get people on my side is to do the work. When I make the right moves, and I will, people will have no choice but to have faith in me. I’m not going anywhere.”

Christian admired her belief in herself, but he couldn’t hold in his impatience in any longer. “Where do I fit into this? Obviously I do, or you wouldn’t be here. You made it clear you didn’t want to hear from me again.”

Her eyes slid away. Was she recalling how, as the sun had started to rise, she’d barely looked him in the eye as she’d gotten dressed and escaped off the roof as quickly as her legs could carry her? Or how she was always conveniently unavailable each time he’d called her?

Elise looked his way again and took a deep breath. “My father likes you, and he still sees me as a little girl who needs guidance. He saw us talking at the engagement party, and he liked what he saw. He’s asked me about you more than once. Although he thinks he’s being subtle, he actually has no clue how to be subtle. I can tell he thinks that you and I would make a great couple, and he believes the best way to make that happen is to throw us together. So he wants you to film the special. You and only you.”

Christian’s mouth dropped open. “I see why your father has gotten to where he has in life. He sees something he wants, and he goes after it.”

Elise nodded. “Yes, I suppose if you want to look at it that way. I like to believe that I got his best qualities and when I see something I want, I go after it just like he does.” Christian was under no delusion that she was talking about him. “I wanted this job for a long time, and now it’s mine. I’m not going to let it go without a fight. I don’t have time for someone to follow me around with a camera in order to placate other people’s feelings or for my father to play matchmaker.”

He settled back against his chair. “So he wants me to film you for a week? How does he know what I do for a living or think that I would have time to do this?”

She sighed. “Because he’s my father, and he does his research. Apparently, your sister has bragged about her filmmaker-slash-teacher brother.”

“So he thinks if he throws us together we’re going to fall in love? Does he know about…?”

Her chin lifted. “No, he doesn’t know, as far as I know. He certainly hasn’t mentioned it. I told him that I went up to my room after I left the engagement party and that you were kind enough to escort me to the elevator.”

“And he bought that?” He didn’t bother hiding his skepticism.

She blinked. “Of course he did. I’m his little girl. I don’t talk to my father about my sex life, of course, but I also don’t make a habit of lying to him. He came up with this idea on his own, but I need to stop him before it goes any further.”

“How do you propose to do that? From what I’ve seen of your father and what you’ve told me, he’s a very determined man.”

“That’s why I came here today before he could sway you to his side. Surely you don’t want to do this. Am I wrong?”

His lips tightened. “No, you’re not wrong, but there has to be a reason he thinks I would say yes.”

“My father thinks everyone has their price. I happen to agree with him.”

He frowned. “So you’re here to bribe me? Do you think I’m that easy, that corrupt?”

Elise reached out as though to comfort him, but thought better of it halfway there. He followed her hand as it returned to her lap, remembering how good that soft hand had felt caressing his skin. “No, I don’t think you’re corrupt at all,” she said. “I do think that you work in a public school with kids who need all the resources they can get, and I can give that to them. My father will probably offer to donate a large sum of money to the school. That’s a worthy donation, and I have no problem matching it. I’ll even double it and set up internships for a few of your students. The Stampede has a long history of community involvement, and we have our own cameramen and film crew working for us, so we would love to foster the next generation of media professionals.”

“Why doesn’t your father get one of them to film you?” he asked.

She rolled her eyes. “Because he’s matchmaking, and they don’t fit the bill. You do.”

Christian studied her. She was deadly serious. “Should I be offended that you want nothing to do with me?”

She did touch him then on the arm. Just long enough to send a wave of lust blazing through him. “Please don’t take it personally. This is a busy time in my life, and I have to concentrate on my career. I don’t have time for anything else. I don’t have time for a matchmaking father. I don’t have time to film this documentary. I need this idea to die a quick and sudden death. Do we have a deal?”

Christian pondered her proposition for second. There was something about her reserved air, that hint of fragility she tried to hide with a fierceness that called to him. He liked her in spite of himself. But she’d rejected him—a whopping three times, including refusing his two phone calls and this get-away-from-me deal. Growing up with a father who’d walked away from him and his twin sister, he had a definite chip on his shoulder when it came to rejection. A well-justified chip in his opinion. He didn’t trust easily, and he never,
ever
went where he wasn’t wanted. She’d made it clear she didn’t have time for him, so that was that. It had been one hot night, and now it was over. So he couldn’t let his hormones overrule his good sense. There was only one answer to her question.

“We have a deal. I’ll turn your father down.”

Her smile made his heart stutter. Made him remember how badass he felt when she’d smiled at him that night. “Thank you,” she said.

She held out her hand. He took it in a firm handshake and strove to ignore the tug of lust in his stomach.

“You won’t regret your decision,” she said.

He wasn’t so sure. Something told him letting Elise back into his life, no matter how temporary it was supposed to be, wasn’t going to lead to anywhere good.


Just as Elise had predicted, Christian received a call an hour later from her father’s assistant requesting a meeting with him. The following afternoon, he walked into the Stampede team offices. The carpet was a deep, rich purple as befitting the team’s primary color. Surprisingly, the office wasn’t very fancy, even though it was a billion-dollar enterprise. Cubicles reigned supreme.

He introduced himself to the receptionist at the front desk, who escorted him to the back of the office where the landscape changed. Here there were honest-to-God offices. She headed to a corner office and opened the door, waving him inside. Only Elise and her father Dale waited for him. He took a quick look around the huge office. The floor-to-ceiling windows offered a breathtaking view of downtown Dallas and the arena next door.

Dale rose from his leather chair behind his massive oak desk and walked around to greet him. His walnut complexion and curly black hair, which he wore in a close cap around his head, matched those of his daughter. His stout figure indicated he’d continuously indulged in the food he’d become famous for making as a restaurateur before he’d bought the team.

BOOK: The Deal with Love (One on One)
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