Beneath the Surface (7 page)

Eric chose that moment to amble back into the room, smiling at her as if he knew exactly what she was thinking.

32

Beneath the Surface

Tabitha squirmed and craned her neck to glance into those sharp indigo eyes rather than avert her gaze. She’d almost forgotten how much taller than her he was. How much bigger, stronger and harder.

She liked the way his broad shoulders filled the doorway, tapering down to washboard

abs she couldn’t help but admire despite her strong wish for him to put on a shirt and spare her hormones the resultant trauma.

Tabitha let her gaze roam further down his body, gaze locked on his hands resting at his sides, focused on the long fingers, wondered how they would feel inside her, caressing her labia, pinching her clit, igniting nerve endings that had long gone unignited.

God, this was crazy! She’d never had this intensely carnal reaction to any man, and she’d been exposed to quite a few as good-looking, virile and big as Eric.

Blind dates arranged by well-meaning acquaintances that had almost ended in date rapes. A couple of aborted wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am sessions of which she’d come to her senses in the middle of and just in time to avoid a bigger mistake than accepting the ill-advised date in the first place had been. Little foreplay, no foreplay, the closest she’d come to even remotely enjoying herself was the one time she’d given into her baser nature and taken her pleasure without regard for what she was giving back.

Poor Michael.

But nothing, no
one
, had affected her the way Eric was affecting her now.

What was it about him? Or maybe her long-neglected libido was catching up with her. More like punishing her for her concentrated disregard.

How long had it been? Eighteen months? Two years? She’d lost count after Michael, throwing herself into growing her business to the exclusion of everything and everyone else.

“So, where were we?”

Tabitha jerked up her head and stared when he clapped his hands and rubbed them together as if he were ready to dig into a juicy meal…and the look in his eyes told her that she was on the menu.

She glanced at his hands again. They looked capable of doing all sorts of naughty things to her body if she let him, and she was sure he wouldn’t have a problem obliging her if she showed the tiniest bit of interest. She knew the type. Too sexy for his own good, and he knew it.

How many women did he have on the side, at his beck and call? How many had become notches on his bedpost? Did she really want to become one of those notches?

Problem was, she wanted to do naughty things to him as much as she wanted to let him do naughty things to her. These longings alone should have been enough to make her run from the room screaming into the evening for refuge at the very least if not a nunnery.

33

Gracie C. McKeever

Instead, Tabitha held her ground and cleared her throat as he traversed the floor.

“We were surveying your wardrobe.”

“No.” He shook his head, moved forward, and bent close to her ear. “If I remember correctly, we were somewhere around here…” He dipped his head low, planted a gentle kiss on her neck, his light whiskers tickling her skin, speeding her pulse.

Tabitha closed her eyes, gritting her teeth against the heat rising in her body, her skin so sensitized to his closeness, she thought she’d spontaneously combust if he touched her again.

“And here,” Eric whispered and took her hands in his as he sidled behind her.

“We shouldn’t…I can’t.” That didn’t come out nearly as firm as she meant it to.

Was it any wonder he dipped his head again to suck and nibble the skin of her neck? Her squeaky uncertain voice practically gave him carte blanche where her body was concerned.

He pressed close and she felt the heat of his erection against her buttocks and gasped when he slid a hand around to the front of her pants and eased down the zipper.

This was totally out of order, totally. She should stop him.
Someone
needed to stop this.

He cradled his chin against her collarbone, his breath warm and enticing against her throat as he slid his hands inside her thong and thrust a finger into her.

Tabitha gasped and arched her body, moving closer to his hand, gently pumping her hips, pulling his finger deeper as he palmed her sex. He slid in another finger and she bucked as he held her against him with his free arm.

“Easy baby. Easy,” he murmured as he removed his hand and turned her around to face him. He raised his fingers to his mouth, licked each of them in turn and smiled. “I bet you’ll feel as good to sink into as you taste.”

It’ll be a cold day in hell before you find out!
Tabitha wanted to scream it at him, but couldn’t get the words out of her mouth. She just silently stared at him as he bracketed each side of her face with his hands, and bent his head to take her mouth with his. He slid his tongue past her lips, polishing her teeth before thrusting further, searching for her tongue and finding it shamelessly willing and receptive as she kissed him back, tasting herself on his lips.

She felt like a marionette with arms dangling uselessly at her sides before she moved them up between them and rested her palms flat against his hard moist pecs. She felt his heart pounding in synch with hers, the evidence of his ardor as much a turn-on as his mouth.

With her finger she slowly circled each nipple in turn, thrilling to him shuddering beneath her hands, her own heart trembling with triumph, warm blood pumping through her veins straight to her head, sizzling her brain cells.

It was a short-lived victory as the buzzer sounded from the kitchen, again.

34

Beneath the Surface

Eric cursed under his breath and Tabitha caught something about “Grand Central Station.” as he stalked out of the room and headed for the kitchen.

Not a moment too soon, she thought, shakily zipping up her pants and running her hands through her hair as she headed for the cherry-framed mirror hanging behind the bedroom door.

Anyone looking at her face would know she’d just been thoroughly kissed—her lips were puffy, her face flushed—kissed and almost stripped bare right here in this bedroom.

How far would she have let him go? How far would she have let herself go?

Each question was moot because she knew the answers: as far as he wanted.

Her secret was out. She wanted him, and he knew she wanted him, knew she hungered. His fingers had been dripping wet with her juices when he’d removed them from her cunt. There was no hiding or denying her lust.

Tabitha quickly rummaged through her bag for her lipstick, unsteadily reapplied the bronze tint as she glanced in the mirror, finally able to get the coat on straight, and determined to leave regardless of whom was at the door this time.

She headed for the living room on rubbery legs, silently thanking the stranger downstairs for saving her from herself.

* * * *

Blond, blue-eyed and graceful, she was as beautiful as a runway model and just as tall. Her endless legs elegantly showcased to their best advantage in a black peach-skin mini skirt, a voluptuous figure sure to hold her in good stead with Victoria’s Secret’s hottest paragons. It held her in good stead with Eric, obviously.

Tabitha looked at them standing close and thought how perfect they looked together. She almost laughed out loud at the cliché, but didn’t want to be rude, so instead cleared her throat to catch Eric and Ms. Secret’s attention.

“EJ, why didn’t you tell me you had company?”

Eric turned to her then, smile as boyish and innocent as if he hadn’t just had his fingers in her snatch five minutes ago.

“It’s not a problem. I was just leaving.”

“You were?” Eric arched a brow.

Tabitha nodded as she approached the coat rack to retrieve her trench. She draped it over her folded arms rather than put it on, sure her temperature wouldn’t be dropping any time soon, not even once she got outside into the early fall air. “I got what I needed for now. I’ll call you to get more details before I start shopping for any items.” She swallowed, looked at the way Ms. Secret stood next to Eric, her posture plainly indicating ancient history, current intimacy. Possessiveness.

35

Gracie C. McKeever

Jesus, why doesn’t she just raise up a leg and piss on him!

Tabitha didn’t know why she was so upset. So what, Ms. Secret was obviously one of the aforementioned notches, and from the looks of it, held a special place in Eric Vega’s bedpost notches’ Hall of Fame. She’d been proven right about him, just hadn’t expected to be smacked upside the head with the evidence of his Casanova ways so soon.

She turned to Ms. Secret, politely smiled and proffered a hand.

“Oh, you’re right. Pardon my bad manners,” Eric said. “Tabitha Lyons, this is Jade Aliberti, a friendly rival from my Mad Ave days. Jade, Tabitha’s the personal shopper I was telling you about.”

Telling her about? He’d spoken with Ms. Secret about her?

Jade put her hand into Tabitha’s, nipping in the bud Tabitha’s paranoid moment as she gave it a bone-crunching squeeze.

A warning, or just plain, old-boy-network assertiveness?

Tabitha squeezed back. “Nice to meet you,” she said and watched Jade bare her teeth in a Hollywood-perfect facsimile of a smile.

“Same here,” Jade said.

Tabitha turned and headed for the door, stopped with her hand on the knob when Eric called her name and sauntered behind her.

“You’ll call when you’re ready to do this?”

She frowned, silent for so long Eric chuckled at her obvious confusion.

“The shopping. You know, credit card and all that jazz.”

“Oh, of course. I couldn’t start anything without you.”

“I’m glad you said that, because I think I’d like to accompany you, on that first spree at least, see if our tastes mesh.”

“I’m sure they don’t.”

“Well we’ll just have to find that out now, won’t we?”

Tabitha turned the knob, opened the door and stepped out into the corridor. “I’ll call you, and we’ll set something up.”

* * * *

“One in the same.”

“She seems like a nice person.”

EJ grinned, thought about how nice Tabitha’s pussy felt in his hands, how tight and wet she’d been. “Nice” was not the best word to describe Ms. Lyons. Naughty.

Succulent. Ready. He’d take his pick. “She is,” he agreed rather than go into any more detail.

36

Beneath the Surface

“Well, as long as she gets the job done.”

EJ expected her to do nothing less, knew a workaholic when he met one and couldn’t wait to change her all-work-and-no-play ways. “I’ll know soon enough.”

“Speaking of getting the job done, I know a publicist who would be perfect for you.”

“Jade, we already talked about this.”

“I know, and I still think you’re making a big mistake by handling the publicity yourself.”

EJ frowned. “I’m not that long out of the business. I know how to work the system.”

“But why should you waste your energies doing that when you can leave the legwork to a professional? No offense.”

“None taken.” Hadn’t he just had this discussion a couple of weeks ago with Evelyn before she’d convinced him to hire a personal shopper and get a makeover? Were all the women in his life in cahoots with each other? “All I’m saying is, why should I waste perfectly good money paying someone to do something I can do myself?”

“Trust me, it wouldn’t be a waste. She’s good at what she does…and while she’s doing what she does best, you can concentrate on what you do best and write.”

Hadn’t Tabitha said almost the exact same thing to him only days ago? And wasn’t more-time-to-write one of the main reasons he’d hired Tabitha? At least originally. Now he wasn’t so sure how wise hiring her had been, not when he hadn’t written more than a page in his manuscript since he’d met her.

“Besides, you’d be doing me a favor,” Jade said.

“A favor?”

“Well, she’s new to the business…”

“Ah, I knew it.”

“She’s good, EJ, really good.”

“So you said.”

“She just needs a break.”

Damn. The magic words. He was a sucker for helping out someone who “needed a break”— and Jade knew this—had had enough breaks along the way to reaching his own goals to realize how important luck and opportunity was to someone just starting out.

“You’d be helping a newbie reach her dreams.” Jade batted her big baby-blues at him, prodding as if she’d read his thoughts.

He thought about probing her, discounted it immediately when he remembered how unsuccessful he had been in the past.

37

Gracie C. McKeever

Once in a while he came across an individual who was either naturally resistant to his attempts at a mental scan or, like Jade, so strong-willed and defensive, he couldn’t get past her shields to read her even when he tried.

He had a feeling Tabitha fell into the latter category, looked forward to testing that theory, and didn’t feel a lick of guilt at his uncharacteristic nosiness.

Had he been half as nosy with his girlfriend Sinclair back in high school, he might have been able to save her.

EJ determinedly shook off his depressing train of thoughts, peered at Jade and asked, “What’s in it for you?”

“Besides the knowledge that I’ve done my part to launch the career of a promising bright young star? Not a thing.”

“You are so full of it, Ms. Aliberti.”

“No, but I’d like to be.” The words came out on a low enticing murmur as she winked at him, moved closer and wrapped her arms around his waist.

EJ eased out of her grasp, took a couple of steps back.

He needed some distance, some breathing room. He was still recovering from the spell that Tabitha had woven over him with her sultry, whiskey colored eyes and sexy pouting lips. He was nowhere near ready for a round with Jade.