The Geek Gets The Girl (3 page)

“Uh…” Was he coming on to her? 

Of course, he was. And she was no slouch when it came to the pickup. Much as he enjoyed listening, Rachel decided it was time for action not words.

She gripped his tie again and planted her mouth on his soft, yet firm lips. He mumbled something that may have started as a protest, but he quickly got over that. Their bodies touched at breast, hips, and toes. The outline of a pen nestled in his breast pocket rubbed her nipple, making it diamond hard. Or was that the incredibly hot kiss that was currently being returned as good as she gave?

His wide, strong hand wrapped about her waist and eased her closer. She didn’t resist; instead, melting against the hard frame of his chest and hips. When had office geeks transformed from ninety-eight-pound weaklings to…this? Beneath the linen shirt, his pecs were solid as stone, and with every movement, the muscles flexed deliciously.

“Mmm, you work out,” she muttered into his mouth. “I like that.” 

“And you are aggressive.”

“Assertive.”

“Same thing.”

“Very different. You have a problem with confident women?”

“I…don’t think I do,” he said, as if deciding he’d go with whatever the crazy woman tossed his way.

She preferred the term assertive. And he would soon learn the difference between the two.

An office romance? Never. But a little mixing it up in the elevator with the sexy IT geek who wasn’t an official employee of Haute Heels? She had never been attracted to the studious type. Too introverted, too closed off, too mental as opposed to physical. 

On the other hand, she did like to try new things. And she so needed to feed her creativity with an orgasm to get her through this week.

Pulling from the kiss, she focused on Zac’s parted mouth. A hush of warm breath brushed her chin. She hugged her breasts against his chest, loving that he must feel her hard nipples, and offering him a teasing smile. He acknowledged the tease with a glide of his tongue over that thick bottom lip, and his hand journeyed up her spine, claiming, as he pulled her to him.

Another kiss took away all thought. Answering the sudden, wanting crush of his mouth to hers, she slid a leg up and over his hip, pressing her palms to the elevator wall behind him. His hands skated up her sides until his thumbs hooked under her breasts and toyed with the underside of the lacy La Perla bra concealed by the silk dress.

Rachel’s skin warmed as if she were lying nude beneath the noonday sun. She sighed into the kiss and deepened it. He tasted like espresso, and not the cheap brand Amelie stocked in the office breakroom. He must have stopped in at the café across the street that served freshly ground blends with a rich swirl of farm-fresh cream. Mmm. His tongue danced a shiver over her inhibitions. 

Seeking as much as she could take, she did not relent.

He lifted her from the floor and she slapped a hand to his chest, gripping his unloosened tie to secure her hold. And then she didn’t want to secure too good a hold, because falling was exciting. Turning her to land her shoulders firmly against the wall, he held her along the thighs and she wrapped her legs about him. Her steel heels clicked together behind his hips. He undid the top buttons on her dress and licked a path down to the curves of her breasts. The demi-bra allowed his tongue to lash the crest of a nipple.

Mercy.

And she had been prepared to give this Monday a check in the Disaster column? This man could explore her software as much as he liked. 

“I don’t do this,” she felt compelled to say.

“Hook up with a random stranger?”

“You’re not exactly a stranger. I’ve known you half the day.”

“True. So what is it you don’t do? Have sex in elevators?”

“The office romance thing. I wouldn’t think of it—I shouldn’t.” She pressed the heel of a palm against his shoulder, but not with any conviction.

“I’m not heading toward happily ever after here, Miss Parker. And you did start this.”

“So I did. Call me Rachel. There’s something about your mouth. I had to feel it on mine. But we don’t have much time.”

He slipped his hand up her skirt and discovered that she had not been in a mind to put on panties this morning. Hey, some days a girl honors her inner vixen. “Rachel, you are assertive and naughty.”

As he nuzzled, gently biting kisses against her breasts, she spread her legs wider to allow him access. No password required. Because she needed right now. And he gave.

Her core stirred, humming with anticipation. She’d grown wet for his touch. He groaned with pleasure as he slipped a finger inside her. Rachel clutched his hair, knocking his glasses lopsided on his face. With his free hand, he tucked the specs in his pocket, while his other found her swollen clit and rubbed over it with a slick thumb. She gasped at the mind-altering sensation of hot-wet-tingle-glee. 

Pressed tightly against the wall, she felt he anchored her there. Wishing the elevator would never whirr back to life, she knew their time was limited. Normally, she needed to focus and allow herself to let go in order to come, yet she was surprised by the sudden and insistent spinning in her core. Every part of her focused on the imminent big bang. It was so close. Zac played her expertly. As if he’d been there before and knew exactly how to speed up his touch, then slow it down, then a bit harder, then a little softer.

“Oh…” She dug her fingernails in at his shoulder and the back of his neck. “Yes, need this. More than you know.”

“Come for me, Rachel,” he whispered in her ear.

And as softly as he’d commanded, she sighed out a lingering moan. Her body shuddered against his, falling into orgasm. The press of his lips beneath her ear electrified the sensations and prickled across her skin in the best feels-so-good-never-stop-yes-yes-yes way.

“You come on strong,” he whispered. “But you end so sweetly. Good girl.”

And the elevator jerked into motion. It descended the remaining two floors while Rachel’s heartbeats remained high in her throat, her body succumbing to the pulse-thundering release. The skirt of her dress fluttered down into place. Her fingers glided down the front of Zac’s shirt as he set her on the floor and kissed her mouth. A testing kiss. A sealing the envelope and sending it off kiss. She was too caught up in the moment to reach for that skinny tie and hold him there. 

The elevator doors opened to the carport, and with one last quick kiss, Zac said against her mouth, “See you tomorrow.” Before she could reply, he turned and strode off.

Rachel wanted to call out, Wait, let me get you off. Turn around is fair play, and all that.

Instead, with a grin on her face, she sank to a squat. Her cheeks flushed and breaths panted. She reached up and pushed the hold door button. Whew! She was no interior decorator, but she would say the inside of the elevator was definitely in need of some red velvet.

Zac didn’t get into a car, instead walking up to street level. Must be catching a cab. Didn’t he work in the building? Or maybe he walked home.

So much she didn’t know about the man who had just worked her body as if he had known it forever. And yet, it wouldn’t have happened if she hadn’t made the first move. She had the control. She needed the control. Without it, she would never survive this rat race called life or succeed in the cutthroat business realm.

So why did that small, swirling aftershock of orgasm toggling her core giggle right now and make her think she’d just relinquished some of her staunch need to be the one in command?

Chapter 4

Just as she was pouring a hot cup of chamomile tea—her pre-bed ritual—two raps pattered Rachel’s apartment door. She didn’t bother to call out or move out of the kitchen to answer it. She knew who it was.

“Hey, sweetie!” Melissa called as she snuck inside and closed the door behind her. “Got some treats for you.”

Melissa and Rachel had both moved into the building within weeks of one another, were former residents of the Midwest, founders of the Saturday Girl’s Nights Out, and were passionate observers of the masculine species.

Already in her cotton pajama bottoms with hot pink skulls on a black background and a tank top that hugged her petite figure, Melissa curled up on the sofa and waited for Rachel to hand her a cup of tea. 

Melissa, in turn, offered her a plate of freshly made macarons as Rachel nestled on the couch beside her. Melissa worked at Paul, a popular patisserie chain, but spent her off-hours crafting her own concoctions. She wanted to open her own shop some day.

“What flavor?” Rachel asked, palming a crisp-shelled treat that she knew would melt in her mouth with the first bite.

“Just taste.” Melissa’s bright blue eyes twinkled and she sipped the tea. “I think it’s the one I’m going to use to enter the bake-off competition.”

Rachel had never tasted macarons until Melissa introduced her to them. Heaven sandwiched by even more heaven was the best way to describe the little cookies that were two soft yet crisp outside layers caressing creamy yet firm ganache innards.

She couldn’t prevent a lingering moan as the sweetness coated her tongue and she recognized the flavor that made her instantly homesick. “Rootbeer,” she said with a sigh. “Oh, Melissa, this is amazing. This is the one.”

“You think so?”

“I know so. Mmm.” She devoured the next two macarons.

“You’re not the usual uptight and not right tonight,” Melissa commented as she clanked her teacup against Rachel’s. “Good day at the office?”

“The IT guy finally showed to fix our computers.”

“Score! You’ve been waiting awhile for him.”

“He worked on me, too.”

“He—” Melanie turned on the couch to study Rachel closely. Her eyes widened with glee. “Seriously? You got it on? You did?”

Rachel nodded and covered her not-so-shameful smile with the teacup. 

“Touchdown!” Melissa met Rachel’s hand in a fist bump. “But really? The IT nerd?”

“He’s a geek, not a nerd,” she corrected. “It was the stubble. Or maybe the thick black glasses.”

“Oh, kill me now,” Melissa said, sprawling back against the couch arm and mocking death with a fake blade to her heart. “Rachel does the office geek. I don’t know whether to laugh or—”

“All I’ll say—” She stood and fingered up the last few crumbs of macaron from the plate. “—is that men who work with computers all day? Really know how to use their fingers.” 

With a wink, she strode off into the kitchen with the empty plate. Melissa’s sigh gave her a smile of triumph.

*

Rachel slid her legs under the desk, not expecting the ‘ouch!’ that echoed up from below. She’d been so busy checking emails on her phone that she hadn’t noticed the long, lean man sprawled on her office floor, his head beneath her desk. Yet the computer tower sat on the table before the window, which overlooked the lime trees queuing down the avenue below.

She bent to peer under the desk and found Zac’s big brown eyes, surrounded by those impossibly geeky black glasses staring up at her. “What is it beneath my desk that you find so infinitely fascinating?”

He crossed his arms and delivered an upside-down grin. “Do I really have to spell it out for you?” He slid a hand up her ankle. 

She used all her powers of resistance to tug away and twist her legs out from under the desk. Really. Amelie was sitting right outside the office door. And if he touched her too long, her skin would turn molten and the lust she’d felt in the elevator last evening would re-ignite.

Who was she kidding? The yearning lust was already there, anticipating the explosion. 

“Someone attached the hard drive to the underside of your desk,” he said, sitting up and waving the small black box and a screwdriver.

“Huh. And here I’d always thought that was the classic black box and Haute Heels was spying on me.”

“We’d be sneakier than that,” he muttered as he stood. “Uh, I mean— I’m sure the company would do it through emails and apps.”

“Really? You think the company is keeping track of my every move?”

Zac shrugged. “You should always assume emails sent from a company computer are not private.”

“I know. But there’s not a little camera somewhere, watching me, is there?” She cast her gaze about the upper lines of the walls, papered in gold-flocked rococo stuff that would be better suited in Versailles. So tired. But classic Parisian. “That would just be creepy.”

“As creepy as being watched in the elevator?”

“There are cameras in the elevator?” Her heart thudded. Great. Just what she needed. Not the best evidence to have floating around when a girl wanted to move up the corporate ladder. “Uh, can you do something about that?”

“What? You mean like go through the security footage and erase our hot and heavy tête-à-tête? You watch too many spy movies, Rachel.”

“Doesn’t it bother you that we were recorded?”

His boyish grin told her that was a stupid question. Men and their need to flaunt—well, everything. Something about macho points. And, certainly, the geek wanted all the points he could rack up, right?

“I don’t think it wise to advertise public displays of affection,” she said firmly.