Desk Job (London Menage Book 2) (5 page)

“But I don’t care if it gets complicated,” he murmured. “I want you.”

He cupped my other cheek, held my head steady, then set his lips over mine.

It was a glorious soft kiss that made me feel so desired.

And I desired him too. So damn much it was beginning to hurt. I reached up and clasped his forearms over his suit jacket, felt hard tendons and muscle through the material.

He pulled back a fraction. “Stella,” he whispered against my lips.

“Mmm?”

“Tell me you want me too.”

“Yes. Yes, I do.” I stared into his eyes. “Even if it gets complicated.”

“It won’t. I won’t let it.” He kissed me again, his mouth parted and he peeked his tongue between my teeth.

A small groan unraveled in my throat. This is what I’d been dreaming of doing since the day I’d met my new boss. And now it was happening. It was all kinds of foolish but I was on that crazy train and hanging on for the ride. Hell, I was driving that damn crazy train.

The heat of the kiss intensified and he ran one hand down my back, holding me tight as he pressed closer, trapping me between his big, hard body and the desk.

I was flying high, lost in the moment. My lust had been unleashed and now those images of us naked and sweaty in my bed were rushing back. Heck, here would do, over the desk, right now. Did the office door have a lock on it? Yes, I was sure it had.

I slipped my hands around to the back of his neck and pressed my chest against his.

“You’ve got me all tied up in knots,” he said, kissing over my cheek.

Slanting my head to give him access to my neck, I stared at his neat hair.

“Andre…” I loved how his name sounded when I was breathless.

“Mmm…”

“I don’t care about complicated and I’m not afraid to take a risk.”

“Me neither.” He raised his head and grinned, his cheeks were flushed. “But I guess that’s what I adore about you. You’re a strong, brave woman who…”

Knock. Knock.

“Fuck,” Andre said, stepping away and straightening his tie.

“Jesus,” I muttered, moving from the desk and smoothing my blouse. I reached for a piece of paper and held it in both hands.

Andre glanced at me, then at the door. “Come in.”

It opened and James stepped in. “Andre, I want to talk to you about color projections for the Gent project.” He halted and looked at me. “Is now a good time?”

I cleared my throat. “Yes. Fine.” I set what I now saw was a blank piece of paper on Andre’s desk. “If you could sign those papers, Andre. I’ll get them distributed.”

“Of course.” He moved to his chair, checking the collar at his nape was smooth as he went. “It won’t take long.”

Pulling in a deep breath, I stepped past James, then walked back to my desk. I sat, heavily. My stomach was tight, my heart racing and I could taste my new boss on my lips.

Fuck. What the hell just happened in there? For a wild second I’d thought about having sex in that office. Okay, I’d always had a high libido and this drought in my love life wasn’t fun … but still.

Suppressing a giggle that was part shock and part elation, I glanced at the office door. I could hear Andre. Just the sound of him talking did hot things to my body. It was clear I had a crush of full-blown proportions, something that had never happened before with an employer. But what the hell? It seemed he was pretty damn keen on me too. What did I have to lose?

My job.

I’d get another one. To hell with it.

Besides, he’d promised it wouldn’t get complicated. Whatever that meant.

I picked up a pen and hovered it over my to-do list. What was the other thing he’d said?
You’ve got me tied up in knots
. Well that was good, because I was tied up in knots, too, and the sooner he started unraveling them and seeing to this need that was building in me, the better.

Chapter Four

Andre barely got another spare minute during the day, and then had to rush out to an early dinner meeting with a client from Japan. I’d booked Nobo and as I traveled home on the Tube, I hoped they were having a nice time.

I planned a lazy day on Saturday, though I woke early with one thing on my mind—Andre. Memories of that kiss in his office swarmed around my brain, dominating all my thoughts. It had been a while since I’d been kissed, admittedly, but I couldn’t recall a man ever making me want to shed my clothes and allow him to do whatever he pleased with my body.

And the more I thought about it, the more I realized that was exactly what I wanted. To give myself over to him. Surrender to what I hoped would be his expert between-the-sheets skills. He was damn good at everything else he set his mind to. I couldn’t imagine that wouldn’t translate to the bedroom as well.

After a long soak in the bath, I called my parents for a catch-up. They were planning a trip to the coast to enjoy the sunshine, though of course there were the usual complaints about the fact the traffic would be heavy. My mother had packed up a picnic because my father didn’t want to eat in a restaurant—he had his heart set on a beach-based lunch. I bid them a nice day then mooched around my flat.

I sprawled on the sofa and tried to catch up on my favorite programs from the week just gone but couldn’t concentrate. Lullabelle cuddled up with me, purring loudly, so I stared at the screen for as long as I could. It was to no avail, though. I wished it wasn’t Saturday and that I was in the office, with Andre. I craved his company, his smile, the feel of him against me.

“What the hell are you doing?” I paced to the window and stared out at the London skyline. My apartment was high and on a hill so I could see mainly rooftops and in the distance The London Eye and The Shard. I adored the view, it calmed me, and I took a few deep breaths.

Maybe I should go out for a walk. Follow my parents’ plans and enjoy the sunshine. I’d take my pen and notebook and maybe see if I could get a few lines together for a new poem.

Making a sudden decision, I slipped from my sloppy trousers and faded but super-soft lounging t-shirt and pulled on jeans and a light sweater. I found a pair of flat sandals and dragged my hair into a high ponytail. A slick of lip balm, a squirt of perfume, and my shades and I was ready.

“Sorry Lullabelle, but I’ll see you later.” I tickled her chin. She was sprawled in the sunshine and didn’t look remotely distressed about being left alone.

The air was warm and held a slight breeze coming from the south. As I walked through Regent’s Park, I began to feel a little better, less tangled up with my longing for Andre, but still, he was all I could think about. Monday couldn’t come soon enough.

“Damn I have it bad,” I muttered as I gazed at a couple in the distance. They were lying on a picnic blanket, cuddled up close and clearly oblivious to everyone else around them.

I spotted a bench and sat.

Monday.

“Oh fuck.” I pressed my lips together and checked no one had heard my expletive. Andre would be in Barcelona on Monday. I’d booked him the flights and hotel. In fact, he was leaving late on Sunday to ensure he was on time for the important meeting with clients.

I rummaged in my bag, checked my phone for messages—none—then pulled out my pen and notebook. I crossed my legs, jiggled my foot, and wrote down the title of a new piece.

Frustration

I underlined it twice.

The way I felt was tight, like an elastic band had been wound within me. I was restless, needy, my body ached from my bones to my chest. All I needed to do now was get that feeling down in some kind of order with the use of carefully chosen words.

I took a deep breath and allowed my thoughts to drift, playing with sentences and rhymes. The all-consuming kiss and the way Andre dominated my senses drew up the words passion, desperate, urgent, impatience, and began to scrawl the first few lines on the page.

Just when I was getting into the flow of it, my phone rang. I reached for it absently, it would likely be Sian calling to see how the new job had gone. Good. I’d be able to fill her in on all the gossip and get her take on the rollercoaster crush I had on my boss.

Except when I looked at the screen, it wasn’t Sian at all. It was a number I didn’t recognize.

“Hello.” I frowned, hoping it wasn’t someone trying to sell me something or represent me for an accident I hadn’t had.

“Stella?”

I caught my breath. I knew that voice. “Yes.”

“It’s Andre.”

“Oh, hi.” I shut my notebook and closed my eyes. What the hell was he doing calling me? Not that I was complaining.

“I hope you don’t mind, I got your mobile number from your CV.”

“No, of course I don’t mind.” Hell, I wanted the guy to take me to heaven and back, I wasn’t likely to have a problem with him calling me. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes. I’m at the office.”

“Really, on a Saturday?”

He chuckled. “I told you, dull as dishwater.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Very kind of you to say so. No, I had some preparation to do for Monday’s meeting in Barcelona, so thought I’d get a head start on it today rather than leaving it for when I got to Heathrow.”

“Okay.” There was a silence, but I didn’t fill it. He’d called
me
after all.

What does he want?

“About yesterday,” he said. “I just wanted to say I wish we hadn’t been interrupted by James.”

I smiled. “Me too.” I wondered if he was smiling as well. I liked to think he was.

“I’d be quite happy to do it again, kiss you that is.” He paused. “Would you like that, Stella?”

“Very much.” I had the urge to punch the air but an elderly couple were walking past with a posse of poodles on leashes. I didn’t want to startle them. “But I guess it will have to wait. As you said on Thursday, you’re a busy man.”

“Are you free tonight?”

“I could be.” Abso-bloody-lutely.

“I have tickets for Chicago at the Cambridge Theater. Do you fancy it?”

“I haven’t seen that show.” I smiled.

“I hear it’s very good. Though if you’d rather do something else, that’s fine.”

I hesitated, enjoying the knowledge that Andre Bramon was so keen to spend his Saturday evening with me. Well, as keen as I was to spend it with him. “Catching a show sounds great. I’ll look forward to it.”

He expelled a breath, as though he’d been holding it. “I’ll pick you up at six-thirty then.”

“I can meet you there.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, fine, it will save you the drive out this way. Shall we say seven at the box office?”

“Okay and Stella…”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For giving me a chance.”

“That works both ways.”

“I guess. Later then.”

“Bye.” I hung up and slipped my phone away.

A group of pigeons were heading toward me, strutting along the pathway and pecking for crumbs as they went. I picked up my pencil and flipped to a new page in my notebook.

Anticipation

Again, I underlined it twice. My feelings had switched. Now excitement rolled inside of me. I had a lovely warm sensation in my belly that radiated outward. Thoughts spun like a tornado in my mind. What to wear? How to style my hair? What underwear to put on? Would Andre get to see my underwear tonight? Would we get the chance to take it further, the way I would have in his office if I’d thought I could have gotten away with it?

A shiver of desire snaked up my spine and over my scalp. It was a delicious, smile-inducing sensation. This evening I’d be with Andre, the object of my preoccupation. After thinking I wouldn’t see him for days, now it was only hours. And he’d called me. He’d sought out my company.

It seemed our need to be together was mutual.

I opted for a sleeveless white halter dress that showed off my cleavage and neat waist but flared at my hips and came down just past my knees. It was a favorite of mine and I always felt a bit like Marilyn Monroe when wearing it. I’d teamed it with silver heels, a silver necklace and a sparkling clutch. Beneath it, I opted for a sturdy strapless bra that had lace detail on the cups and a matching thong.

I’d been careful to exfoliate and ensure not a body hair was out of place, finishing off with a lavish application of a new vanilla and mango body cream that made my skin soft and strokeable.

Standing now at the Cambridge Theater, I pressed my hand over the throw I’d folded on my forearm just in case it was cool later. Though I hoped things would only get hotter between Andre and me.

I was a few minutes early, being late was a fear of mine, but that was okay because I enjoyed watching the other theater goers arriving—ladies dressed in finery, men in smart suits, and polished shoes.

Seeing Chicago appealed to me. I knew some of the songs and had caught snippets of it on TV over the years. The evening ahead would be very pleasant. I only hoped the night would be too. I shifted from one foot to the other, but was I jumping into bed too quickly with Andre, if that was in fact what happened later?

Maybe.

Perhaps.

Probably.

But what the hell? I was single. He was single. We fancied the pants off each other. Life was short. Too short not to take a chance, grab some fun, get some satisfaction when it walked on by.

“Hey. Stella.”

I turned to my right.

Andre stood there, looking more handsome in his black suit than any other man who’d entered the theater. His hair appeared damp, as though he’d not long ago showered. He was perfectly clean-shaven and wore a deep purple tie.

“Am I late?” He frowned and glanced at his watch.

“Not at all. I was early.”

“I didn’t mean to make you wait.” His frown was still in place.

“I was quite happy people watching.”

“Ah, yes.” His expression softened. “Getting inspiration for those poems of yours.”

“Something like that.”

He leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to my cheek.

I inhaled his cologne and let the scent drift down into my lungs, lacing the back of my tongue as it did so.

“You look beautiful,” he said quietly against my ear.

“Thank you.”

He pulled back. “And I’m a lucky guy to have you on my arm.” He held out the crook of his elbow. “Shall we?”

“Yes, please. I’m looking forward to it.”

The show was amazing. I became lost in the music, the dance, the characters and the story. It was a feast for my senses and made all the more special by the fact Andre was beside me. When it came to an end, I was surprised how the time had flown.

“I could watch it all over again,” I said to Andre as the final rounds of applause died down.

“You enjoyed it then?”

“I completely loved it. Everything about it.”

“I’m glad.” He stood and held out his hand. “Shall we get a nightcap?”

I set my fingers in his palm and watched as he closed his hand around mine. Did I want a nightcap? Hell yeah. In fact, I wanted that and more. “That sounds perfect.” I stood and found myself pressed close to him in the narrow aisle.

“Shall we find a bar or would you like to come back to my place?” he asked.

Fuck. That was the million-pound question.

I looked into his eyes, they sparkled and held a glint of hope.

“I guess we’re not far from Chelsea.” That wasn’t quite true but I didn’t think he’d quibble. “Your place sounds good to me.”

His mouth twitched into a smile. “It sounds good to me, too.”

The crowd opened up and still holding my hand, he led me down the steps and out of the theater. The throng of people soon dispersed and Andre hailed a taxi.

My ears rung from the loud music as I climbed inside and buckled up. I also felt cool. I shook out my wrap only to find Andre taking it from me. He spread it wide then carefully placed it around my shoulders being sure to drape it evenly and gather it at the front, over my chest.

“Thank you.”

He said nothing, just looked at me intently.

“Everything okay?” I asked.

“Never better.” He adjusted his position on the seat then clipped his seatbelt secure. Once again, he took hold of my hand.

I bit down on my bottom lip. This was the big step I’d been expecting, going back to his place held endless possibilities. Most were fun, sexy and I hoped, thoroughly satisfying, but still, it was a huge step to jump into bed with my boss.

But this man, at my side, holding my hand. He wasn’t just my boss. It was Andre, sweet, caring, sexy Andre. It would all be fine. More than fine. We would be amazing together and just maybe, hopefully, exactly what each other had been searching for.

We began our journey to Chelsea. The streets were busy with public transport, smart cars and black cabs.