The Devil in Denim (26 page)

Still, she had to suck it up for now. There were bigger fish to fry and she and Alex—whatever they were—had to wait.

It couldn’t be that hard just to wait, could it?

She smiled again and left the room to call Veronica from her cubicle, away from the madhouse of the conference room. She was halfway there when her phone spouted its little robot text message alert.

Sorry about all this. Talk tonight? Your place? Want to see you. A.

Her smile widened. Maybe she wasn’t going to have to wait so long after all.

Chapter Fifteen

It was late by the time Alex pulled up outside Maggie’s building. He could feel the tension of the day riding him like a sack of cement on his shoulders, feel it in the ache in his hand and the burn of too much coffee and not enough food in his belly. But the pizza that he’d picked up on the way—loaded, just the way she liked it—smelled damned good despite everything, and the thought of seeing Maggie alone was even more enticing than the pizza.

He stretched as he stepped out of the car, then bent back down to pick up the pizza, flexing his hand. Maybe he was getting old. Once upon a time he’d lived for days like this when a deal stumbled and he had to pull the solution out of nowhere and ride the wave of adrenaline until he got what he wanted. But right now he just felt tired. The press conference had gone as well as it could, but if he could have rolled back twenty-four hours and somehow stopped Sutter from pulling this little stunt, then he happily would have. He would beat the bastard. He had to. If the Saints went to Texas, Tom and Maggie wouldn’t be the only ones who were devastated.

But right now, his pizza was getting cold and Maggie was waiting upstairs for him. Hopefully. It was later than he’d planned. She might well have done the sensible thing and gone to bed.

Thankfully, it didn’t seem that she was the sensible type. Because when the doorman—Dev—buzzed up to tell her he was here, she answered. Better yet, she let him up, which made some of the fatigue roll away. She’d been hard to read at the press conference. She’d played her part immaculately as she always did, but he got the feeling she was upset about something underneath. But figuring out whether it was just Sutter or whether it had something to do with him could wait until he’d eaten. And maybe had a beer or two. Or dragged Maggie back into bed. All of those options sounded good. Even better if he got to do all three.

Anything to improve the day and burn off the edge of exhaustion so that he could think again.

Maggie opened the door when he knocked and he held out the pizza box. “I brought dinner,” he said. “Have you eaten?”

She stepped back to let him in. She’d changed out of the suit she’d donned for the press conference, pulled her hair back into a loose, messy knot at the top of her head, and taken off her makeup. She wore dark gray yoga pants and a black T-shirt that clung to her curves. It had a white heart with baseball stitching emblazoned across her chest. It made him smile. The curves made other parts of him perk up as well.

“Dinner?” he asked again.

She nodded toward the kitchen. “I had a sandwich but I’m sure I can find room for a slice or two. You want a beer?” Her tone was friendly but otherwise gave no hint to her mood. She hadn’t made a move to kiss him hello or touch him at all. And with his hands full of pizza box it was kind of hard to initiate himself.

“Sure.” Beer was good. Beer. Food. Talk. Then he might be able to figure out how she was feeling, and if he was going to be staying the night or calling himself a cab.

Maggie went to the fridge, and Alex put the pizza on the big table and followed her around behind the counter to where he thought he remembered plates being stowed. He found the right cupboard on his second attempt and carried the plates back to the table. Maggie busied herself with beers and a couple of glasses and eventually sat herself down at the end of the table. Not next to him but not completely opposite so maybe that was a promising sign.

He held out a plate. “Trade you pizza for beer?”

She nodded and passed him a beer before cracking hers open and taking a long swallow. “So,” she said, after he’d piled two slices onto her plate and handed it over. “Is this the part where we have the awkward morning-after conversation that we should have had this morning?” Her tone was light but her brown eyes were intent over the beer as she took another swallow.

“Does it have to be awkward?”

“That depends.”

“On what?”

“On whether or not you were happy that Sutter’s little announcement gave you the excuse to make a quick getaway this morning or not.”

Ah. She wanted to know if he was in or out. Well, he wanted to know her particular stance on that matter as well.

“Maggie, if Sutter hadn’t inserted himself into the mix this morning, I’m pretty sure we’d still be in bed. Or maybe back in bed after a brief break for some food,” he said. Her eyes widened and darkened. “Unless, of course, you were planning on kicking me out this morning?”

She looked down at the table, toying with her napkin.

His gut churned. “Well?”

“I—”

Shit. Had she been going to kick him out? Call it a one-night engagement and have done with it? He’d have to accept it if she didn’t, he’d promised her that much. But he really hoped she wasn’t going to. “You can’t pretend it wasn’t good last night.”

“No. No, it was good.” She looked back up at him, flashed a nervous smile. “Better than good. But … things are complicated. Maybe we should press pause for a bit? Wait until after the vote? You need to concentrate on doing your thing and I don’t want to distract you from that. And I don’t want to be distracted.”

“Honey, I’m guessing that both of us will be a hell of a lot more distracted if we’re climbing the walls from frustration.”

That made her smile widen. “I thought you were the king of the deal, laserlike focus on what you want and nothing gets in the way.”

“That’s true. But you see, right now, one of the things I want is you. Granted, crushing Sutter like the bug he is, is also high on my list of priorities, but I want you to know that it isn’t the only thing on the list. Not by a long shot. So some of that laserlike focus is all yours. If you want it.”

A rush of pink colored her cheeks. One hand traced a nervous circle in the moisture beading on the outside of her glass. “Focus, huh? What exactly would you be focusing on?”

Good. That was more like the reaction he was looking for. “What would you like me to focus on? Anything … bothering you? Any needs that need attending to?”

“Well, I do have this pile of stuff that needs filing,” she said with a grin.

“I have minions who can file for you, if you want.”

“Below your pay grade, is it?”

“No, just a waste of my other talents.”

“And exactly how would you describe those talents?”

“Good at problem solving. Good with my hands. Last night you seemed to think I was pretty good at giving you a screaming orgasm.”

A startled burst of laughter. Followed by her cheeks staining even deeper. “Is that so?”

“Unless you were faking. And I don’t think you were faking.”

“Oh, no one ever fakes with the great Alex Winters?”

He shrugged. “I’m sure women have but I don’t think you did. You seem like the kind of woman to tell me what I was doing wrong rather than lying back and being unsatisfied.”

“Are you saying I’m bossy?”

“I’m saying you seem to know what you like. That’s a compliment, by the way.” He drained his beer, set it on the table next to the rapidly cooling pizza. “So … are we going to keep bantering or are we going to move on to something more interesting?”

She tilted her head, dark eyes studying him. Her finger was still moving against the glass.

Hesitation. Why was she hesitating? “Something wrong?”

She shook her head but he didn’t believe it.

“Maggie, talk to me.” He leaned toward her.

“You left pretty fast this morning. Tonight it’s pizza and let’s go to bed…”

“I didn’t come to see you just to get laid, if that’s what you’re asking. And like I said, if Sutter hadn’t made his announcement this morning, I wouldn’t have left. I came because I wanted to see you and eat pizza and finish the day with something good.”

Her smile returned. “So you don’t want to have sex?”

He shook his head. “I have absolutely no objection to the something good including you naked. But if you’re not in the mood, then I’ll live with it. Might need another beer though.”

“So it’s me or beer?”

“I strongly lean toward the former.”

“Well, that’s a relief.”

He allowed himself to smile. “Is that a yes?”

She took a sip of beer, licked foam off her lip—the path of her tongue arresting—and considered him. “No abandoning me in the morning?”

“No. I have to get up early but so do you. But until then, I’m all yours.”

All hers. Now there was a thought to make a girl catch her breath. Maggie watched Alex as he leaned forward in his chair, looking a little rumpled and a lot gorgeous.

All hers.

It was strangely satisfying. Scarily satisfying perhaps. She liked the thought a bit too much for comfort. Not for the fact that he was going to be putting all that gorgeous to uses she was sure to approve of in not too long, but for the fact that he was here. That he wanted to be here. That he’d said he would stay.

It felt … right.

Surely it was too soon for it to feel right? It was too soon to be thinking about him being all hers. This was New York. She should be dating multiple men and keeping her options open. Playing the game.

But somehow she wanted only this one. This new, unexpected, completely wrong, man.

Which possibly made her the world’s greatest idiot, but she couldn’t really bring herself to care too much about that right now.

Not while he was watching her with heat banked in his green eyes.

“Well, if you’re all mine,” she said, making her words slow and thoughtful. “What am I going to do with you?”

He smiled a smile as slow as her words. It stole over his face like a wave of pure sex. Her breath caught.

“What would you like to do with me?”

Everything. That was the word that sprang to mind. But how to explain everything?

Or even know what she wanted. She wanted to kiss him. Wanted him to kiss her. Wanted him naked on her bed while she took in every glorious inch of him. Wanted to bring him to his knees. Wanted to be on her knees.

“Whatever you’re thinking about,” he said in a low voice. “Keep thinking it.”

She felt her cheeks go red. “I—”

“Want me to make some suggestions?”

Alex Winters talking dirty to her in person? That might just make her brain melt altogether. She crooked her finger at him. “No. Just come here.”

The chair almost fell backward as he stood. He caught it, righted it, and made it to her side in a satisfyingly short time.

She tilted her head, looked up at him. With her still seated and him standing it was a long way up and she let her gaze move slowly, starting with the bulge in his jeans and drifting upward.

“Take your shirt off.”

He arched an eyebrow but obeyed. Buttons were unbuttoned, cuff links loosened, and then the shirt dropped to the floor.

She hooked her hand into his belt, tugged him a little closer then spread her fingers over the flat of his stomach. The muscles were flat and tight and they tightened further at her touch. Smooth skin and a smattering of dark hair felt delicious under her palm. Warm and strong and undeniably male.

“Kneel down.”

He sank to his knees, which brought their faces nearly level. The expression on his face suggested he was enjoying this little interlude. Playing her game. He stayed still, just watching her, arms loose at his sides instead of reaching for her.

So she reached for him. Bent forward to kiss him. It took about a second for what she’d intended to be slow and leisurely to turn heated. God, he tasted good. What was it about him? She wanted to drink him down, and she tangled her tongue with his urgently as she slid from the chair to kneel with him, pressing up against him.

But he stayed still. Playing the game. Well, she’d started it, she’d have to finish it or let him know she wanted to change the rules. It was a dilemma. She liked this. Liked being the one in control, but her body was also voting for her to just stop fooling around and get on with things. Her head was spinning as she broke the kiss and whispered, “Touch me.”

Alex smiled. “Where?”

That made her head spin harder. She was meant to be in control, wasn’t she? So why was she the one who didn’t know what she wanted? Too many choices? Fast or slow. Hard or soft.

“Let’s start with here.” She took his hand and set it against her breast. His palm curved around her and he smiled again.

She pulled his head down as his fingers moved to her nipple, toying with the peak through the fabric of her tee. She moaned appreciatively into his mouth as they kissed again.

“More,” she whispered.

She felt him smile against her lips and then his hands were at the hem of her shirt. She lifted her arms and let him whisk it over her head. Her bra was simple black cotton but the expression on his face told her he didn’t care. His hands came back to the curve of her breast, tracing the edges of fabric and skin as if he wanted to memorize her.

Her nipples were tight and aching, the tiny movements of his hands on her making them tingle as the cotton moved infinitesimally against sensitive skin.

Torture. Heaven. All in one.

And she didn’t know how long she could keep this up. She wanted to play, wanted to see how far she could push him or he could push her. Wanted to see where they might take each other, but that was going to have to wait for another time. As could sex in the kitchen. It was an intriguing possibility but the tile was hard and right now she wanted a mattress and soft sheets and the even more intriguing possibilities that those offered. She took his wrist, then came to her feet, Alex following her lead.

He followed as she walked toward her bedroom, followed as she walked toward the bed. She wasn’t sure when the following became mutual, when it became a game between the two of them with the lead flowing back and forth. Her bra hit the ground followed by his jeans and her yoga pants. Alex sucked in a breath as she slid a hand into his boxers and curled her fingers around his cock. Silky skin over unyielding hardness. It was a sensation she loved, so different from her own skin. She ran her fingers around the edge of him, felt him gasp again, and then withdrew her fingers so she could pull his briefs free. She pushed him toward the bed and he tugged her with him so that they fell together. He rolled on top of her, pressing for a moment into her, right where she wanted to feel him, and making pleasure spike. But she wasn’t quite ready to give in completely, so she wriggled and rolled again so that she was on top. She straddled him, settled against him, the thin cotton of her panties no barrier to being able to enjoy the sensation of him against her.