I Brake For Bad Boys (12 page)

He followed her up onto the center of the mattress and nudged her legs wide apart so he could kneel in between her splayed thighs, giving her no time to cling to any last semblance of modesty. His eyes branded her, from her breasts to her belly to the glistening folds of her sex as he fumbled with his belt, then tore frantically at the buttons of his jeans. His fly opened, and he shoved the waistband of his pants over his hips, freeing his long, thick shaft to her gaze.

Her breath stalled in her lungs as she took in the size and length of him. The impressive width. His shaft looked as smooth as velvet and hard as steel, and more than she'd ever had before. She couldn't hold back the strangled sound that slipped from her.

A slow, bad-boy grin made an appearance. “You did this to me, sweetheart,” he said, his accusation soft and laced with amusement as he reached into the front pocket of his jeans and withdrew a foil packet. Ripping it open, he sheathed his erection in the thin latex. “I can't remember ever being this hard and thick before.”

A tiny thrill shot through her, that she'd done that to him. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

“You can bet it is.” He draped her thighs over his and touched her intimately, making her wetter, hotter, all over again. “I've been hard with wanting you ever since the first moment we met.”

All talk ceased as he moved over her and the smooth, broad head of his penis nudged her opening, stretching her, giving her no choice but to accept him,
all
of him, until with one final, forceful thrust he was buried to the hilt.

She sucked in a quick breath and gripped his shoulders, his skin slick and damp against her palms. He was big, hot, and solid inside her, and her back arched in an attempt to accommodate his invasion, which drove him deeper. He groaned like a dying man and completely covered her body with his. His hands tangled in her hair, and his mouth claimed hers in a kiss as erotic as the carnal joining of their flesh. The tempo of his pistoning hips escalated into a wild, primitive coupling, and he ground himself against her mound, creating a near unbearable friction designed to make her come again.

The flame of passion between them burned hotter, higher, brighter, and she wrapped her legs around his waist and rocked against him, urging him toward his own climax. With a low, guttural growl, he wrenched his mouth from hers and tossed his head back, his breath exploding from his lungs in heavy, labored gasps. He drove deep one last time, sending her spiraling into a lush vortex of sensation, then shuddered violently with his own release as she contracted around his fully embedded shaft.

When the storm of passion had passed, he stared into her eyes and brushed tendrils of hair from her flushed face, his gaze awed, and his touch gentle and reverent. With his fingers still caught in her hair, he slowly lowered his head and drifted his mouth along the curve of her neck and shoulder, then kissed her again, his lips sliding softly, leisurely over hers.

There was a sensitivity and caring in his actions that made her feel delicate, sensual, and cherished in the aftermath of such an untamed possession. And that revelation was an odd contradiction to the aggressive man she'd just given her body to. Yet there was no denying that this man embracing her so affectionately inspired the kind of intimacy lacking in her life, and seemed to draw something deeper from her than just sex. She felt as though he was touching a part of her soul that had been empty and lonely for too long.

The sentimental thought shook her, because it went against her need to remain detached and unemotionally involved. “Eric,” she whispered, uncertain what was happening between them. Wondering if he felt the subtle shift, too.

“Shhh.” He kissed her one last time, and without another word he pulled away, separating their bodies so he could take care of the condom and put his clothes back on.

She immediately felt the loss, missed his warmth and closeness, and berated herself for allowing too much reality to mix in with the fantasy.

Once he was dressed, he put her beneath the covers and brushed his mouth across hers in a sweet, fleeting caress. “Good night, sweetheart,” he murmured against her cheek.

He moved soundlessly across the room, a renegade dressed all in black, but before he could slip out the French doors and into the night, she rose up on her arm and blurted, “When will I see you again?” She cringed at the desperation in her voice.

He turned and smiled at her, seemingly pleased with her question and that she
wanted
to see him again. “Soon,” he said, the promise a vague one, and disappeared into the shadows.

Eric glanced around the expensively furnished boardroom at Massey and Associates, not at all surprised to see avid interest reflected on the faces of the partners of the firm as they listened to what their freelance creative director had to say in regards to the Enchanted Cruise Line presentation.

He hid a smile, knowing Jill's intelligence and bright, innovative ideas had a way of inspiring that kind of admiration from those she worked with. And even from the man she'd slept with the evening before. Not only did he admire her, but he respected her, too. Personally and professionally.

He'd gone to her house with a hot, forbidden affair in mind to get her out of his system. And while they'd indulged in erotic pleasures that had satiated him physically, he'd ended up craving so much more than sex with her. He'd absolutely hated leaving her after the intimacy they'd shared—and that hesitancy was an unfamiliar feeling for him since he didn't usually linger in a woman's bed. With Jill, he almost had.

But, as her phantom lover, he'd made a promise to keep things purely physical between them during their midnight trysts, which meant no postcoital cuddling, and he refused to break his vow so early in the game. But all the warning signs indicated he was falling hard and fast for Jill.

The urge to stay with her had been strong, nearly overwhelming. More than anything he'd wanted to pull her into his arms and savor the aftermath of such an incredible, mind-blowing experience that had rocked his carefree world and threatened the emotional control he'd prided himself on when it came to women and relationships—especially after watching both of his brothers fall victim to a woman's persuasive charms, only to end up cynical about love and long-term commitment.

Last night, her body had been his for the taking, so warm and lush and responsive, but there had also been a softness and vulnerability about her that contradicted the poised, power-suited woman up at the podium in front of him. He found the two personas intriguing, and though he'd made the personal decision to delve into Jill's psyche and discover deeper secrets, he knew he had to tread carefully between their working relationship and their newly developed intimacy so as not to threaten her emotionally.

Lying in his own bed last night after visiting Jill, he'd analyzed the situation, and their affair, trying to figure out a way to use both to his advantage in terms of nurturing an exclusive relationship with Jill outside of the office. Undoubtedly, she expected him to return tonight for another fantasy, and while his lustful body readily agreed with that plan, he'd decided that he wanted to build her anticipation, the desire between them, and heighten the sexual excitement of when, where, and how. And that meant keeping her guessing about his intentions, doing the unexpected, and seducing her mind and body in gradual degrees.

While his own thoughts had wandered, all eyes and ears in the boardroom remained tuned in on Jill, who stood confidently in front of the room, her voice strong and sure as she continued to pitch a mock presentation to the partners for the Enchanted Cruise Line before the final marketing package was put together for their client. Over the span of two hours, she kept everyone's attention riveted with creative designs, along with suggested media vehicles to promote the campaign, visual placement of ads, Web site and software applications, and market research to back up her multimillion dollar proposal.

Eric watched her, too, despite the fact that her gaze never met his during the course of her presentation. The passion she harbored for her job and original layouts and designs was evident in her speech, mannerisms, and the excitement in her eyes as she sold the partners on her ideas. Now, Eric knew that vibrant passion and energy extended to the bedroom, and he was hooked on her. Addicted. More obsessed than before.

“God, she's good,” Gary Tillman, a senior partner in the firm whispered to Eric from the seat next to him. “She's just what we need to bring fresh blood to the firm. We want her on our creative team. Permanently.”

Eric knew exactly how the partners felt, because he wanted her, too. And for more than just the short-term basis they'd agreed on last night.

“I want you to do what you can to sway Jill to accept our offer to stay on at Massey after this contract is signed, sealed, and delivered,” Gary went on in low, hushed tones, looking every inch the shrewd businessman he was.

What this man didn't realize, and what Eric had just recently learned himself, was that Jill had a mind of her own. She was stubborn at times, independent, and strong-willed in her views and decisions. Sure, he'd managed to sway her last night to his way of thinking when it came to something they'd both wanted so badly, but Eric highly doubted Jill would be so easily influenced to do something that went against her future goals. With Massey—and with himself, he knew.

“You know she's started up her own agency, Creative Consulting, and already has a client base, right?” Eric felt compelled to remind the older man of Jill's interests outside of the firm.

“She can bring those clients with her.” Gary shrugged, obviously willing to work the situation to his advantage. “Money talks, and we're prepared to make her an offer she can't refuse, but we need to know what we're really up against, if you know what I mean.”

Eric understood perfectly. The partners wanted to know why she was being so resistant so they could cater to her hesitancy with a promise of financial security and job stability. But Eric honestly cared more for what Jill desired than what the higher-ups at Massey wanted.

Then again, Eric was curious to know more about the woman beneath the conservative suit and pinned-up hair. The incredibly exciting woman who was the vixen he'd bedded the night before. And drawing her into a more personal kind of conversation was the perfect opportunity to scratch beneath the surface of her pragmatic, daytime facade.

“I'll see what I can do,” he said to Gary, appeasing his boss—and himself—at the same time. He was very interested in hearing her reasons for turning down their numerous offers, but he wouldn't force her to change her mind.

The presentation ended with a round of enthusiastic applause and complimentary comments. There were a few suggestions offered on how to improve the proposal, but all were minor changes in the scope of the incredible job Jill had done with the entire package.

Eric waited patiently until the room cleared before he approached Jill at the podium, where she was gathering her visual displays. “You did an outstanding job,” he said, pushing his hands into the front pockets of his trousers.

She slanted him a quick look, not long enough to let him gauge her expression or emotions as far as he was concerned. She'd been a closed book all morning in that regard, not that he could blame her. “Let's hope our client is as enthusiastic as the partners of this firm.”

Resisting the impulse to tuck his fingers beneath her chin to force her to look him straight in the eye for the first time that morning, he instead picked up a storyboard and laid it carefully on top of a demo chart in her pile. “I have no doubt that the Enchanted Cruise Line will be just as impressed with your presentation.”

“Thanks. You know that means a lot to me.” She folded her pointer stick and tucked it in her expandable file folder. “And as long as the presentation results in a signed contract and my bonus, that's all I care about.”

He wanted her to care about much more. Like him.
Them.

Oh, man, he was in so deep with her. He tried to convince himself it was because she presented such a challenge with that cautious, reserved attitude of hers during working hours. But this possessive feeling she roused in him surpassed the simple need to settle a sexual score with a woman. If that were the case, last night's shameless escapade would have satisfied him—and his libido—plenty.

The need to touch her, to be with her, told him Jill wasn't one of his ordinary conquests. And even after one amazing sexual encounter that should have left him drained and his lust for her completely slaked, she was far from being purged from his system, or out of his mind and thoughts.

He glanced at his watch, noting the time, which matched the grumbling of his stomach. “How about grabbing a bite to eat with me for lunch?”

She tensed, and after taking a brief moment to gather her composure, she opened her mouth to reply. Knowing a refusal was forthcoming, he cut her off before she could turn him down.

“Don't tell me you're not hungry, because I know for a fact that you were in this morning at six to prepare for this presentation, and haven't been out since. I'm guessing you most likely didn't eat breakfast, and it's near twelve o'clock. You're probably running on pure adrenaline.”

She ducked her head, but not before he caught a hint of an impish smile on her lips. “And caffeine,” she admitted.

He chuckled. “See, there. You need sustenance. Besides, this is a business lunch. There's something work related I need to discuss with you.”

Her head snapped up in startled surprised. “Oh. All right.” Her green eyes were filled with curiosity, and a deeper worry. “Is everything okay?”

Judging by the sudden anxiety he sensed in her voice, he assumed she was thinking about them and her biggest fear coming to fruition: that their secret affair was jeopardizing her job or commission somehow.

“Everything is fine,” he reassured her. Handing her the stack of leftover brochures, she took them from him without letting their fingers touch. “Meet me in front of the elevators in, say, fifteen minutes?”

“Sure.” This time, she sounded more confident, less worried. Relieved. “That'll give me time to get all this put away.”

“Great. It's a date, then.” He turned to go, even as he mentally kicked himself for his choice of words, certain she'd choose to interpret them the wrong way when he'd meant his casual comment figuratively.

“Eric?”

He glanced back at her, a deliberately bland expression in place. “Hmmm?”

There were questions in her eyes, but she didn't voice them. Instead, she searched his features, and seemingly not finding what she was looking for, she shook her head. “Never mind. See you in a few minutes.”

“Bring your appetite.” He winked at her and exited the room before she could call him on that remark.

 

 

Jill relaxed in the butter-soft leather passenger seat of Eric's sporty two-seater car as he drove them to a trendy outdoor café off Michigan Avenue. The intimacy of sharing such a small, confined space with him affected every one of her five senses. She was surrounded by his warmth and male scent, and she couldn't help but notice, and appreciate, that he maneuvered the sports car with as much ease as he'd coaxed her surrender last night.

Thankfully, their conversation in the vehicle consisted of casual, work-related business, and never crossed the line into personal territory. True to his promise, Eric behaved like a business associate and the easygoing man she'd worked with for the past three months. There was nothing in his expression or mannerisms to indicate that they'd shared a night of hot, passionate sex, nor could she find a trace of the lover who'd claimed her so possessively, then left her craving so much more upon his departure. If she didn't know better and didn't ache in certain places, she'd swear it had all been a dream.

She swore she was grateful for his ability to keep their working relationship separate from their affair, especially since the woman in her was more aware of him than she'd been before they'd embarked on a private, dark-of-the-night tryst. Because now she knew what he looked like naked, and it was a magnificent sight that was indelibly etched in her mind. She had intimate knowledge of what those hands of his felt like caressing her, knew the pleasure his fingers and mouth could coax from her body, and how his lips and tongue set her skin and senses on fire.

The memory of their night together distracted her at the most inopportune times. Like during her presentation this morning when she'd felt his hot gaze on her, and her body thrummed to life with anticipation and need. And now she found herself analyzing every look he cast her way, every comment, and wondered how she was going to make it through the day and keep her desire under wraps until he came to visit her again in the dark of night.

She had no choice but to be just as indifferent and poised as he seemed to be, because as much as she wanted him, she wasn't about to discuss their “fantasy world” in the light of day and make their relationship public, even verbally.

They arrived at the restaurant, and he opted for valet parking. As they walked side by side up to the entrance and into the waiting area, Jill couldn't help but notice how many women did a double take at Eric. Nor did she miss how he handled the stares—with a slow, easy grin that was an innate part of his appeal and bad boy image, a natural, effortless charm that had the ability to set hearts racing. Jill discovered she wasn't immune to that flirtatious smile, either, and was shocked at the spurt of jealously she experienced toward those other women glancing his way.

And when had she started thinking of him in such possessive terms? She clenched her teeth and reminded herself that he was a temporary fling, and he wasn't hers to keep. No matter how much she wanted to stake a claim on him so those other women would know that he was taken and his nights belonged to
her.

They sat down across from each other at a table outdoors and ordered their meals. After the waitress delivered their drinks, Eric jumped right into the business discussion he'd mentioned earlier.

“We both know that the partners are interested in hiring you at Massey full-time,” he said candidly, getting right to the point of their lunch together. “But so far you've refused their very generous offers.”