Big Bad Wolf (7 page)

Jaymee slowly turned around, managing not to fall onto his lap as she gripped the table behind her.
She tried to sound cool as she looked down at him, but her heart rate was, as always, when he got too near, speeding up with maddening awareness. “You need to give me a bill for my records.”

He made her nervous this evening. There was a different air about him as he watched her with those deceptively lazy eyes.

Nick shook his head.
“I’d like to be paid in cash.”
He placed his hands on her hips, holding her.

Her knees were going to buckle.
“Are you a criminal?” she asked lightly.

As if he would admit it, even if he was one.
He shook his head.

“A tax dodger?”

“Negative.”

“An escaped convict?”

“Nope.”

“An illegal alien, then?”

His smile was wicked, sexy.
“Which accent do you want me to put on for you?”

Jaymee folded her arms protectively over her chest.
That smile was dangerous to a woman’s peace of mind.
“I’m entitled to an explanation.”

She had paid cash to some past employees before, those whom she knew were transient workers who had no address for her to contact at year’s end.
The construction industry was seasonal and laborers came and went.

However, Nick Langley called to her like no one had for a long time.
His mystery fed her curiosity.
She wanted to solve it, and hopefully, eliminate this senseless attraction she felt.
All week, she had kept him at arm’s length, not wanting him to make more of that kiss in the truck.
It frightened her, the way he made her feel.
He’d caused her to forget herself and every one of her self-imposed rules.
She wanted to use her head this time because the last time she followed her heart, she’d been conned into believing the man to whom she’d give it to was sincere.
She knew better now.
Men like Nick Langley didn’t stay sincere for long, and certainly wouldn’t stay around for long after they got what they wanted.

When he remained silent, she pressed on, “Well?”

“I’m trying to straighten some stuff out,” Nick said, a smile teasing his lips.
“It’s nothing criminal, so you don’t have to worry about helping a convict, but I just need some time.”

“Some time for what?
What exactly do you do, Nicholas?”

That crooked smile was awfully distracting and she refused to succumb to the temptation of bending over and kissing those lips.

“Construction?” he asked, his blue-gray eyes twinkling.

Jaymee gave a snort.
“Yeah, you’re just the typical construction man.”

“And what does a typical construction man look like? What does he have that I don’t?”
He flexed an impressive bicep at her, questioningly wriggling his brows.

Jaymee wanted to run her hand over the arm, to feel its hard strength.
Then she wanted to—she cut off her thoughts abruptly.

“Nails too clean, shoes too clean.”
She counted each item off on a hand.
“Owns a pretty new Jeep, paid off, you told me—that, Mr. Construction Man, is a big telltale clue.
Paid off?
Do you know how much a new Jeep costs?
And lastly,” she gestured grandly, then, not able to help herself, she ran a light finger on his bare arm and whispered, “No tattoos.”

She was good, a worthy opponent indeed.
“Do you always stereotype people?” asked Nick quizzically.
“Are you a stereotypical roofer?”

Jaymee frowned.
“You know, mister, I can see right through you,” she told him.

“Oh?”
Nick leaned back comfortably, lacing his hands behind his head.
He was beginning to enjoy this bait and wait exercise with his new boss.

“You always pretend to answer my questions, but all the time you try to divert me by putting me on the defensive.
Not so?”

Oh, she was good.
“Why would I do that?”

“You men are all the same, talking all the time like I’m not here.
I’ve grown up among men all my life, Nicholas. I know how they think, what they do, why they talk the way they do.
They talk differently when women are around them, except I’m around them so much, they forget I’m a woman sometimes.
I know every which way they talk down to women, every half-truth they utter to them, to each other.”

“Ah,” Nick said sagely, “an expert in evasive tactics.”

Jaymee looked startled for a second, a slight frown on her face.
“Evasive tactics?” she repeated, then nodded, pleased.
“Yes, I like that.
I’m an evasive tactic expert.”

Nick grinned at her.
If she only knew.

“So, back to the original subject, what exactly do you do?”

He noticed
she didn’t say
she wasn’t going to pay him in cash, which told him plenty about her decision already.
He relaxed.
“I’m good with electronics.
You know,” he placed his hands on the table on each side of her body, and tapped a long finger against the keyboard, “computers.
Radios.
Stuff like that.”
Missiles.
Bombs.
Satellites.
He continued in silence.

Jaymee studied him for a few moments.
Those long elegant fingers and artistic hands.
Yes, she could see him playing with electronic things, assembling, wiring, rearranging.
Clever, knowledgeable fingers.
She shook off the sudden torrid images of those hands on her body.
She wanted to laugh and cry at the same time.
Her imagination, so long buried under piles of debts, had suddenly decided to stir from its coma.

She wasn’t, by nature, a prying person, and since he had answered her question, she was satisfied enough to let it go for now.
Maybe he would tell her more later, when he finished straightening out whatever needed straightening out, but right now, at this moment, she needed to understand why she was reacting in this way.

“OK, I’ll help you out,” she told him, and smiled at his surprise at her sudden capitulation.
“Let me get my figures into my program, and turn the computer off.”
She waited a beat.
“You have to move and give me room, Nicholas.”

“What’s wrong with my lap?”

Jaymee looked down her nose.
“Get your own laptop.”

He laughed, his teeth very white against his new tan.
“Done,” he said, and without warning lifted her onto his lap, turning her to face the computer on the desk.
The big arms closed securely around her waist as he scooted the chair closer toward the table.

Jaymee swallowed hard.
Reaction?
How about internal combustion?
The numbers on the screen didn’t make sense.
She’d probably messed up the whole program, as she tried to concentrate on the task instead of his roaming hands.
They seemed to be everywhere, around her waist, on her thighs, up her back.
Then they
were pulling her blouse
tucked into her shorts.
Her brain refused to work any longer.

“Stop it,” Jaymee huskily commanded, and almost slammed her palms down on the keyboard when his hands touched flesh.
They glided across her quivering stomach, his fingers teasing the top of her shorts, one finger lazily exploring her belly button, before moving higher.
She clutched those clever hands just before they reached their target.

“Stop it,” she said again, trying to push them back down.

“Don’t you like it?” he whispered into her ear, that gravelly voice low and seductive.

Too much.
She hadn’t been touched or caressed for....
In a last ditch effort, she moved to scramble off his lap, but her body went on strike when his teeth caught her earlobe.
The sudden shot of electricity from that sensitive spot caused her to arch her hips in helpless response, seeking to make a live connection.
She began to tremble.

“Yes, you do, Jaymee.
Tell me.”
Nick’s thumbs curled under her lacy brassiere and stroked the underside of her suddenly sensitive breasts.

Jaymee grit her teeth.
No, she would not.
“Yes.”

The admission came out in a moan—helpless and unsure.
She didn’t protest when he undid the front clasp of her bra with a practiced ease she took note of before he diverted her attention by possessively cupping her released flesh. Her eyes closed to savor the intimate sensations his touch generated.

Nick couldn’t see her face but her soft moan was sexier than any words.
She was softer than the Egyptian cotton of his favorite shirts and utterly enchanting in the way she responded to him. Her breasts eagerly spilled into his hands, heavy and baby smooth, her nipples turning pebble hard as he played with them.
Her restless hips were doing wonderful things to his body as she arched and squirmed in his arms.

Jay Barrows had all but disappeared.
In her place was Jaymee, a passionate bundle of womanhood, far more exciting than how he’d imagined her at night, and Nick desperately wanted this woman.
He wanted to keep her in this state of aroused need, just to see this part of her revealed, and he was glad, possessively, triumphantly glad, she was showing it to him.
He knew, bone deep, she didn’t—hadn’t been—out of control in a long, long time.

Jaymee melted into his chest and lifted her chin.
He didn’t need a second invitation, placing his lips on hers.
His kiss was tender and exploring.
Somewhere among the exploding sensations, a part of her felt the restrain
t
he was exercising, as if he didn’t want to frighten her.
Hooking an arm around his neck, she pulled him closer, trying to get closer, wanting more, making a sound of protest when he broke off the kiss.

She opened her eyes with great reluctance.
The animal heat in his gaze made her heart beat faster.
His eyes roved her flushed face with a predatory gleam.

“Kiss me like you mean it,” she recklessly said, ignoring the moment of reprieve he was giving her.

“If I do, Jaymee, it won’t be a simple romp on an office chair. Are you prepared to give me what I want?”
His voice was gentle, even though his eyes glittered with suppressed emotion.
In a slow caress, his hand moved over her thudding heart.
“I want what your heart’s promising me.
I want you wild and crazy under me.
You’ll have to take off that leash you’ve put on yourself.”

Jaymee couldn’t say a thing.
She should be, but she wasn’t at all shocked this stranger understood her so well.
He had seen through her enough to know where to pierce her armor, and he was telling her if she let him make love to her, she would lose the thing at which she worked so hard, her control.
And she knew, without a doubt, sleeping with him would mean relinquishing a lot.
He had already proven it moments ago, and that was with him holding back his own needs.
He would be the kind of lover who’d take everything, control everything, and expect total surrender, in the pursuit of mutual pleasure.
Nothing less would do.
It was there in his eyes, in the quiet expectancy of his strong body so close to hers.

He stared down at her solemnly, as if he could read her racing thoughts.
“I want you to think about it, sweet Jaymee,” he continued in that deceptively gentle tone, “because if you let me have you, I won’t allow you to hide anything from me.
There’ll be no stopping once I start because I want you very much.
I won’t even listen, baby, if you change your mind, because I’ll be unleashed too.
It’s been a while since I
’ve felt
this way too.”

They were quiet words but still caused her to tremble with fear and longing.
Unleash the wolf.
She understood exactly what he was warning her of.
If she said yes, it wouldn’t be the tender controlled kisses and soft caresses.
It would be wild.
It would be powerful.
It would be...heaven.

All that would probably kill her.

She didn’t realize she had spoken aloud.
“No, sweet Jaymee,” Nick said, shaking his head as he traced her lips with one long finger.
“I’m going to free you.
You’ve locked yourself inside that delectable body for too long.
It’s nice.
It’s safe.
I’m neither.”

Oh, she agreed.
He was neither nice nor safe.
The feral gleam in his slate eyes gave her fair warning.
There was a humming heat emanating from his body, like a race engine idling, waiting, and she could feel the power of a waiting predator inside this man.
There was nothing safe about him at all, not the hands that continued stroking her, or the hard flesh beneath her nudging intimately.