The Hookup Hoax (8 page)

“Just a regular coffee for me. I’ve got work to finish at home.”

“And one little drink is going to change that? We’ve only missed one weekend at the bar. Surely you can’t be a lightweight already.”

“No worries. I could still drink you under the table. But tonight I’m running numbers and that pesky decimal point tends to jump around if I have too many.”

Their coffees arrived, along with dessert, and Olivia was the first to try her Irish kiss. When she emerged from behind the large mug, her top lip was coated in a layer of whipped cream. Sawyer reached out to wipe it away with his thumb but before he could, her tongue did the job for him.

The ache in his groin intensified. He stifled a groan, knowing there would be no relief for his growing needs tonight, or any other night in the near future…not unless he took care of business solo-style. After witnessing Olivia’s tongue licking her lips clean, he knew his hand would never compare.

Note to self: ordering drinks topped with whipped cream is bad for my balls.

Chapter Seven

Olivia tried to read the numbers on the elevator control panel as they glowed, but each digit seemed to dance before her eyes. Speaking of dancing, the normally stationary walls seemed to be sashaying to music she couldn’t hear.

“You doing okay?” Sawyer asked. His strong, steady grip on her arm hadn’t faltered since they’d left the restaurant.

“Fine,” she said, trying to sound convincing.

When did I become such a lightweight?

She hadn’t had that much to drink. Two little glasses of wine with dinner and then the Irish kiss with dessert.

Irish kiss… Is Sawyer Irish?

Her gaze dropped to his lips…lips practically begging her to kiss them.

There was that grin again.

If she could get to her room and into bed, tonight would be over. The problem was, she needed Sawyer to help her get there, and every second his hand lingered on her arm, she imagined it lingering somewhere else on her body, somewhere she shouldn’t be thinking about.

“I can handle my liquor, you know.”

“You can, huh?” Sawyer let go of her arm and she breathed a sigh of relief. Now if he would also take a step back. His proximity made it harder to think clearly.

“What would your boss say if he knew you were getting drunk on a work night?” he asked.

“Probably nothing, since it’s hard to discipline an employee when you’re guilty of the same offense, don’t you think?”

“You might be right.” Sawyer finally took a small step back, giving her room to breathe without the intoxicating scent of his cologne. “What if the boss is fine in the morning but the employee is hung over?”

“If the boss was a nice employer, he’d fix the employee a cup of coffee and turn the other cheek, cutting said employee a little slack for celebrating her first day of work. At his recommendation, I would add.”

“Good thing your boss is a very nice and understanding man.”

The elevator chimed and jolted to a stop. Olivia’s knees buckled and she reached out to brace herself. His arm slipped around her waist, holding her steady.

“I’ve got you,” he said, guiding her down the hall to their apartment.

“I said I was fine.”

“Yes, you did, and the evidence clearly shows that as well, doesn’t it?” He glanced down at her while unlocking the door.

She narrowed her eyes. “You’re more of a smart ass than I remember.”

“I’m surprised you remember my ass.”

“We were kids, and that wasn’t what I meant.”

“No?” he asked, his voice rising as if he were teasing.

“I meant you’re mouthier than I remember.” First she’d mentioned his ass, now his mouth. She needed to stop speaking before she brought up any other body parts. All of them were on her mind.

Sawyer stopped outside her bedroom door, his hands lingering on her hips as she turned her back to the wall, leaning on it for support.

His mouth turned up at the corner. “I can be very mouthy, when asked nicely.” His eyes held a devious glint that matched his suddenly husky tone. Maybe she wanted to follow his train of thought for a while, see where it led.

She could definitely get onboard with his mouth leading to hers right about then. The first time they’d kissed, something inside of her had threatened to explode, and that was with an audience watching. What would it be like if he kissed her, there, in the privacy of their home?

“Oh?”

He mumbled an unintelligible response as he shifted against her, pressing her back to the wall. She squirmed against the pressure building in the junction of her thighs and the growing evidence of his erection nudging her belly.

She parted her lips in silent invitation, even as her brain yelled for her to stop, begging her to listen to reason. Reason was a negative bitch, whereas spontaneity was a hungry vixen ready to get her fix.

Sawyer was gorgeous from a distance, but up close and personal, he was unbelievably sexy. Every inch of him was a temptation to her senses, and she wanted nothing more than to touch him, taste him, feel his tongue explore her mouth and body.

Aidan’s annoying threats arose from somewhere inside her mind, warning her to stay away from Sawyer, the player, a guy who was just like Sam. A guy who wanted no future like the one she saw for herself. She shoved Aidan’s voice into the darkest regions of her consciousness.

Screw her brother. If he got mad at her because she kissed a guy, he would get over it. She was a grown woman and she could kiss whomever she wanted, even if that someone was a playboy like Sawyer. Especially if it was Sawyer.

Sawyer didn’t have to be a forever kind of guy. They were playing the role of a couple for everyone else. Maybe they could call another kiss practice. She’d like to practice.

Slipping her hands around his waist, she pulled him tight to her body and peered up at him. In an instant, his thumb was stroking her lips. She gasped at the contact, arching into him, letting her eyelids flutter closed so she could focus on his touch.

“Oh God, Olivia. I want…” His voice trailed off when she flicked her tongue against the tip of his thumb, urging him to taste her.

“You want what?” she asked, whispering.

“I want…you,” he whispered back. His forehead rested on hers and his hand dropped to her shoulder, squeezing it as if he might draw strength from her.

She tilted her head slightly, offering herself.

“But I can’t.” A moment later, he closed his bedroom door, leaving her alone in the hall, trembling with need.

She changed into her pajamas while trying not to fall over, then climbed into bed and pulled the blankets around her, desperately hoping to block out the rest of the world. He acted like he was as into the almost-kiss as she was, but when it came right down to it, he’d walked away.

What kind of playboy walked away from a woman offering herself to him? What kind of self-respecting, independent woman offers herself to a man who she knows is nothing but trouble? Hadn’t she learned her lesson in college?

She groaned and rolled onto her side, cuddling her covers in her arms. Tears of embarrassment and rejection, past and present, stung her eyes.

They had an agreement, an arrangement to keep things above board and platonic—friends-only zone. Then she’d gotten drunk and crossed the line. She’d thought he’d looked at her with desire in his eyes.

She wouldn’t be stupid enough to make that mistake again.

…

“Wake up. It’s your turn in the shower,” Sawyer said, brushing her hair away from her eyes. “If you don’t get up now, we’ll be late.”

He knelt at the side of her bed, debating. A part of him—the part that saw how intoxicated she was last night, the part also feeling partially responsible for her current state—wanted to leave her in bed to sleep it off. But the other part of him, the boss part, knew missing her second day of work without a good excuse would only make her look irresponsible.

He shook her shoulder gently.

She stirred and rolled over onto her back, her blankets slipping down to her abdomen. Raising her arms above her head, she stretched, long and liquid like a cat waking from an afternoon nap in a sunbeam. As she did, her breasts strained against the thin material of her tank top pajamas.

The two luscious mounds looked like the perfect handful. Usually his philosophy was the bigger the boobs the better, but hers were perfect. Any bigger and they would have looked unnatural. The ribbed material of her tank must have rubbed against her nipples since they were beading beneath the cotton. He wanted to reach out and touch her, feel the tight buds under his fingertips, against his tongue. Averting his eyes, he focused on her face. “You need to shower.”

She yawned. Her mouth gaped open in a full-bodied exhale—right into his face.

“And you need to brush your teeth. Wow.” He chuckled, leaning back a few inches.

Her eyes sprang open while her mouth snapped shut. A hand slapped over her lips while the other gathered the edge of the blanket and pulled it up to her chin. “What are you doing in my room?” she asked, her voice muffled.

“Trying to wake you up.” He hovered at the edge of her bed, awestruck by how amazing she looked while still half asleep. He didn’t usually stick around long enough to see women in bed in the morning, but he liked what lay in front of him—messy hair splayed out on the pillow, eyes heavy with lingering dreams, curves barely concealed by pajamas.

All good.

“What time is it?” she mumbled.

“You’ve got twenty minutes.”

“Twenty minutes?” she squeaked, bolting upright. Throwing back the blankets, she sprang from the bed.

Sawyer rose beside her, taking in the landscape of her long legs, slim waist, and perky breasts along the way.

“My head.” She moaned and swayed on her feet. Instinctively, he slipped an arm around her body to steady her.

“You might be a touch hung over. Hopefully a nice hot shower will help. While you’re in there, I’ll fix you a coffee and some breakfast. Eggs?”

She groaned again. “I might be sick.”

“So no eggs then.” He helped her walk to the bathroom, where she splashed cold water on her face.

Droplets fell from her chin as their eyes locked in the mirror’s reflection. “I can’t believe I did this.”

“Don’t worry about it. Everyone drinks too much sometimes.”

“True. But does everyone go to their second day of work hung over?” She pressed her cheek to the granite-topped vanity, sighing. It didn’t look like the most comfortable position to be in, although it wasn’t bad for an observer. “I suck at this whole working thing. I should go back to being a nomad, where I rarely made an ass of myself.”

At her reference, his gaze darted below her waist. Her ass looked pretty damn good in those little shorts. “You have no reason to be embarrassed.”

“Really? Day one, I basically see my boss naked. Day two, I’m hung over. Very professional.”

He laughed. “I happen to have it on good authority, your boss is a nice guy who may or may not have forgotten to lock the bathroom door before getting naked, therefore he’s taking partial blame for the incident. And rumor has it he even once showed up to work so hung over, he might have actually still been a little inebriated. I’m sure he’ll cut you some slack.”

She smiled weakly, squinting and rubbing her forehead. “Maybe the boss guy also has a hangover cure? Or a few pain relievers?”

“Done and done. Shower. I’ll bring you everything.”

While he waited for the coffee to brew, he scrolled through his schedule for the day: back-to-back meetings, as usual. Clicking to his monthly calendar, he checked any notations for the upcoming weeks. One caught his eye immediately—the gala.

The gala he attended every year was rolling around again. Dread filled him at the thought of going to yet another one alone. Every year he went because it was a good opportunity to work on his client relationships, and maybe even forge a few new ones. And every year, halfway through the night, he wished for an excuse to leave. It would be way more fun if he had someone with him—someone who always seemed to have fun, no matter what the situation.

Olivia would be the perfect date. Not only did he like her company, she might also enjoy a fancy night out. He couldn’t imagine she’d had many opportunities for those in the last few years while she traveled. They usually had a good band and delicious food.

He’d give anything not to attend, but this year it was more important than ever to be there. Cultivating and maintaining his clients was a priority if he wanted Sterling Enterprises to be around next year.

Olivia would probably do well networking for her next job while they were there, too. He’d seen how quickly she’d won over his family and the people at work. She’d have no problem schmoozing with possible contacts for an evening. Hell, if she used any of that natural charisma on his clients, half of his worries would be over. At least with her by his side for the night, he had a hope of enjoying it this year. Now he just needed to convince her to join him.

He filled a mug with coffee and wandered to the bathroom with his arsenal of hangover supplies. He found her at the vanity where he’d left her, only now she was dressed, her hair pulled back into a tight twist. “Take the pills with the water first, then work on the coffee.”

With her first sip of coffee, she sighed and let her eyes flutter closed. When she opened them again, she smiled. “You are the best boss ever. Next time you need something at work, I’m your girl.”

He liked the sound of that. “Actually, there’s this fancy, sort of stuffy, yet kind of over the top gala that I go to every year. The food is usually pretty good and the band is decent. I’d like it if you would be my date for the evening.”

“Well, when you sell it like that, how could a girl refuse?” She laughed then cringed as if her head ached. “When is it?”

“Two weeks.”

“Will anyone who needs to believe our scam be there?” she asked, sweeping mascara along her lashes.

“I have no idea, but if anyone gets word that our relationship isn’t real, it could travel back to my family. It wasn’t that long ago that my grandfather ran the business. For all I know, some of his old buddies will be there. I thought it’d be a good way for you to start networking, too. There are usually a lot of big name CEOs attending. Never know where you’ll meet your next boss.”

The thought of her working for someone else settled like a lead brick in his stomach. He’d only worked with her for one day so far, but he liked having her at the office. She brought a certain quality to the atmosphere that hadn’t been there before. It was hard to describe in words. It was more of a feeling, like a bolt of lightning had hit his building and Sterling Enterprises was suddenly electrified with new energy.

She rubbed her temples then took another sip of coffee. “Okay. Sure.”