Authors: Cris Anson
The grizzled man gave Con a long stare then turned back to
the satellite computer and logged off. “I’ll be home tonight if you need me,
’Zelle.”
“Thanks, Larry.” She watched him stalk out the door then
turned to Con with a sigh. “I’m sorry. I know he’s just being protective of me.
But I appreciate your taking the time to check out the software. What do you
need to know about my computer?”
Con desperately wanted to take her into his arms and kiss
her until she was wet as a river, but he sensed her unease about that little
scene. So he’d be businesslike until he tested the waters, so to speak.
He smiled at that double entendre and touched the space bar.
Her computer came to life and he got to work. Sitting down at her desk, he
checked out what programs were loaded then browsed for several moments. “Okay.
I think this will work. Give me a few minutes to set everything up. I brought
all the connector cables and accessories I could possibly think of.”
When the data began flowing between his laptop and her
computer, Con watched carefully for a while then rolled back the chair and
stood. “We need to give it some time to do its thing. Meanwhile,” he stepped
close to her, “are all your workers gone? You don’t have to go outside to stow
anything or lock up anything or water anything?”
For some reason she looked like a doe in the forest just
before being frightened into leaping away.
“No, I’m fine. I’m all ears. Tell me about this software.”
“Giselle.” He wanted to stroke her cheek but held back. “You
look nervous. Are you worried that I’ll put out a contract on your foreman for
being so belligerent?”
She didn’t smile as he’d hoped, and couldn’t quite meet his
eyes, but locked her gaze on a point just beyond his shoulder. “No, not that.”
“But you’re worried about something.”
She rubbed her hands down the thighs of her jeans as though
wiping sweat from her palms. “I guess after yesterday, I just expected…”
“Yesterday.” His word came out like a sigh. “Yesterday was
the most beautiful day of my life. And I can’t wait another minute to begin a
repeat performance.”
He swept her into his arms and kissed her thoroughly, with
mouth and tongue, teeth knocking against hers, one hand fisting her ponytail to
hold her head just so, the other hand pressing her glorious hips into his
raging hard-on.
“I can’t tell you how hard it was to concentrate on
software,” he said against her lips, “when all I could think of was how you
taste, how you feel. God, Giselle, I don’t know how I was able to control
myself until that bodyguard of yours left.”
She pushed against his chest until she could look into his
eyes. “Truly?”
“Honey, how can you doubt it? I’ve never experienced such
fireworks in my life. We were made for each other.”
“Oh.” She sagged against him, her head buried in his chest.
“What’s the matter, sweetheart? Should I have gone caveman
in front of your foreman and fucked you against the wall?”
She let out a small snicker then said in a tiny voice, “That
woman who ran up to you yesterday as I was leaving your office. She hugged you
and all but asked you for a date. She’s tall and slender, and she’s your age. I
thought maybe you had…dessert with her.”
Con had to shake his head. “You thought I was—that Samantha
was— Wait a minute. My age? I thought we settled that. I don’t care how old or
young you are. You’re exactly what I want. Period.”
“Well, consider it from my vantage point. I saw this
gorgeous young woman hugging you like you were
intimately
acquainted and
you didn’t object—”
Con threw back his head and laughed, then hoisted her up in
a bear hug and spun her around the room. “Of course we’re intimately
acquainted. You were jealous of my baby sister!”
“Put me down, you—you caveman! I wasn’t jealous, I just
wondered…”
He finally set her on her feet. “Tell me the truth, Giselle
Sheridan. Were you really, really not jealous? Not even the tiniest bit?”
Instead of answering, she said in a prim voice, “Your
sister? I didn’t see any photos of her in your office.”
“I’ll make her remedy that situation post-haste.” He hooted
and spun her around again. “You were jealous! Giselle Sheridan loves me enough
to be jealous of another woman hugging me. Yee-hah!”
He felt her go rigid in his arms. Uh-oh, his enthusiasm
overstepped his common sense. It was much too early in their relationship to
get into that. Although he felt they had a damn good chance to make it last.
Slowly he released her to slide down the front of him. The
hard, rigid front of him that wanted in. Now. “Giselle,” he breathed, his mouth
a hairsbreadth from hers. “Do you want me half as much as I want you?”
“Oh Con, yes! Can we—”
He didn’t let another word get past her mouth, for he was
devouring her, sucking her tongue then thrusting his own inside that hot, moist
cavern, lifting her against him, grabbing hold of those wonderful ass cheeks of
hers. Pivoting on his heel, he carried her flush against him, forcing himself
to break the kiss to navigate through the kitchen. “Where do you want to go?
Upstairs? Right here? Tell me now or I won’t be responsible for—”
“Con, stop!”
He checked his forward motion but refused to relinquish his
hold on her lush body.
“The office door needs to be locked,” she gasped.
“Oh. Right.”
He did a one-eighty back to the office and when he reached
said door, she twisted her upper body to flick the latch then flung her arms
around his shoulders. His knees all but buckled when she sank her teeth into
the curve where shoulder met neck.
They got halfway across the kitchen. “Now,” she said. “Right
here.”
“Yes.”
Then they both ripped off their clothes. Con, with high
hopes as to this particular outcome, had dressed in easy-to-discard polo,
trousers and sockless loafers. Giselle cursed as the laces on one of her
workboots knotted. Naked and with cock rampant, Con knelt to tackle the
stubborn knot.
“Knife. First drawer to the left of the sink. Cut the damn
thing! Hurry, Con!”
He found one that did the job. Finally he stripped off every
piece of her work clothes and managed to remember a condom and, hoisting her
onto the nearest counter, slid his cock into her with a fierce growl.
“Oh lord, thank you for this little bit of heaven on earth,”
he breathed.
Looking deeply into her eyes, he said, “Giselle, I want you
with every fiber of my being. Don’t ever think you’re too old or that I’ll look
at some young thing who doesn’t know what she wants out of life. I want
you
!”
He punctuated the last word with another brutal thrust of his cock. “Only you.”
She wrapped her legs around his waist and gripped the edge
of the counter. She had to, he thought, or the force of his thrusts would send
her right into the wall. God, he loved this woman. “I love your intelligence,
the way you took over the business, your courage, your backbone.” With every
trait he listed, he slammed into her again to punctuate his words. “I love your
tits, your curves, your wild hair. I love the way you feel when you’re
squeezing me from the inside out. I love your arms and legs wrapped around me.”
Damn, but he had to bite his tongue to keep from admitting
the last bit of information he wanted to blurt out. But he knew in his heart
and his mind that he loved her, that she was the only woman for him, and he’d
wait as long as it took for her to realize it.
Then she did that squeezing thing with her inner muscles and
he could feel the storm roar through him, his balls tighten up against his
cock, his head feeling it could explode like his cock was getting ready to—
He let out a feral yell and emptied everything he had into
her welcoming cunt, his heart, his soul, his life force, and only prayed that
she would accept them.
* * * * *
A long time later, after half a dozen orgasms and a scant
supper of a wedge of cheese and a couple of apples, they collapsed in each
other’s arms in Giselle’s bed. She was happily exhausted and thought she could
sleep for hours. Cuddling close to him, her rear against his front, she felt
Con’s breathing even out. Shifting a bit, she crooked her neck to look at him.
The night-light in the hallway dimly illuminated his dear face. He looked even
younger in repose, especially with the freckles, but for the first time she
considered their age difference an asset. His stamina boggled her mind, and she
was gratified for the years of physical labor that allowed her to keep up with
his almost insatiable appetite. For her.
Smiling like the storied Cheshire cat, she felt her limbs
grow heavy as she sank into sleep. She didn’t know how long she slept before
she half woke when she felt the mattress dip.
“Con?” she mumbled.
Naked, he leaned into her, nuzzling her sleep-warm shoulder.
“We left both computers running. I’ll just run down and check them out. Don’t
go away. I’ll be back in a few.”
“What time is it?”
“Time for you to catch up on your sleep, my princess. I plan
to wear you out again soon.”
Feeling thoroughly loved, she burrowed more deeply into her
pillow and fell asleep to dreams of Con and her walking through her nursery
area hand in hand, enjoying the pungent smell of fresh bark mulch on the
heeled-in trees and shrubs, listening to birds chirping and crickets singing.
All too soon her alarm clock jolted her awake. “Damn, I wish
today was a holiday!” But she knew her guys would be here in an hour and she
needed to be dressed and alert. And have Con be the same.
She turned under the sheets to nudge him awake. The side
where he’d slept was cool. Had he never returned to bed?
Maybe he already left, as he had before, conscious of her
reputation with her staff. Whichever, she jumped into the shower and dressed
quickly in jeans and tee. Smelling coffee, she smiled to think he’d repaid the
favor and made a pot of morning coffee for her. Perhaps she’d find a love note
alongside the pot.
In stockinged feet, she skipped down the stairs, following
her nose to the coffee. No note, but when she’d poured herself a cup, she heard
a noise through the open door that connected kitchen and office.
“Con? What are you—”
Her mouth dropped open when she took in the scene. Printouts
were scattered across her desk, file drawers were open and Con sat at the
satellite desk in snug navy boxer briefs, pencil in hand. She wanted to admire
his masculine form, but her gaze was snagged by the number of paid invoices
arrayed around an old-fashioned columnar bookkeeping pad half filled with
penciled-in numbers.
“What on earth are you doing?”
Without moving his gaze from the document in front of him,
he reached out a hand. “Hi, honey. Come here. That software found something
very interesting.”
“Conlan Trowbridge, have you been here since you said you
were turning off the computers? What time was that?”
“Hmm? Oh, around three, I think. This one thing alone will
more than pay for the software. Look at this.”
She smiled at his boyish enthusiasm. It was obvious he loved
dealing with numbers, just as she loved working with growing things. “What did
you find?”
“Let me just run the numbers.” He reached for a handheld
calculator he must have brought and began to key in data. After a while he
whistled.
“What? What did you find?”
He reached for his coffee cup and grunted. “Empty. Would you
mind getting me a refill, hon?”
She wanted to strangle him. Con was even more dramatic than
Aunt Esme. She strode to the kitchen, refreshed both their mugs and returned.
“Ah. Thanks. That’s the second pot, you know.” He sipped
appreciatively then got down to business.
Finally!
“Okay. I’ll give it to you straight. Remember when you left
me your business tax return? And when that truck dumped your mulch, I commented
that I thought you’d have more inventory of stone and gravel based on your list
of expenses?”
She nodded, trying to follow his words instead of the
muscular lines of his naked back and shoulders, where she spied a few more
freckles.
“Well, here’s where this software comes in. What it does, it
takes all the bills you paid in various categories of expenditures from your
business management data. Then, from the design data, it takes the total volume
of supplies you based your estimates on. Follow me so far?”
She nodded again, silently encouraging him to continue.
“So this software uses that data from the two programs and
calculates whether things roughly equal out over a period of time. Let’s take
that mulch you ordered. Four hundred cubic yards. Over the past year, that’s
approximately how much you expected to use. So far, so good.”
“But? I sense a big ‘but’ coming.”
“Right. I came up with a total expenditure for the past two
years for a company called Skyway Gravel and Paving.”
“Yes, I remember approving invoices for them. Larry found
them a couple of years ago when our last supplier went out of business.”
Con sipped absently at his coffee while he shuffled papers
around, obviously searching for a particular list. When he added nothing
further, she said, “Go on.”
He took a deep breath. “Giselle, I’m not accusing anyone of
anything. Maybe I should go back two more years before I say anything further.”
“For God’s sake, Con, spit it out! I’m a business owner. If
something’s not right with my business or my accounting procedures, or one of
my employees made some serious mistakes, I need to know about it.”
“Okay. The reason I pulled all these invoices out is because
I couldn’t believe the data the new software generated for this account. So I
verified every single invoice you paid, both the dollar amount and the volume.
I couldn’t verify the design amounts, but I assume you keyed in those figures,
right? Since only you did the designing?”