Waking Up with the Boss (6 page)

“You're a hellcat in bed,” he said.

Her voice went husky. “I'm not, not usually...”

“So I just bring it out in you?”

“I don't know.” She clawed the crap out of him again. “Probably.”

He gazed into her glowing green eyes. Was this how she would behave on her wedding night? Sweet and sensual and animalistic? “Your future husband can thank me later.”

She writhed beneath him. “You're cocky, Jake.”

He glanced down at where their bodies were joined. “So I am.”

She followed his line of sight. “That isn't what I meant.”

“Then why are you enjoying the view?”

“For the same reason you are.”

Because being together was exciting. Because they both wanted to remember how it felt. How it looked.

Jake shifted his hips, making the moment hotter.

In.
Out.
Deep.
Deeper.

Carol gasped, and a haze of hunger enveloped him, his body jerking, his erection pulsing, his vision glazing till he could barely see at all. She was falling, too, his orgasm triggering hers. Or maybe hers had jump-started his? He was too far gone to know.

Sensations slammed between them, and she clung to him, making breathy sounds in his ear. His personal assistant.

His
very
personal assistant, he amended.

When it was over Jake was beaded with sweat. He withdrew and dropped down on top of Carol, needing to drag as much air into his lungs as he could get. But what he got was the scent of sex, mingled with her citrus perfume.

She skimmed her fingers down his spine. Gone were her claws. There was just softness now.

“Am I hurting you?” he asked.

She nuzzled his shoulder. “Isn't it a little late to be asking me that?”

He grinned in spite of himself. “I meant, am I too heavy?”

“No, you're good.” She traced his tailbone. “I'm not an itty-bitty breakable thing. I can take it.”

He could have stayed there all night, luxuriating in her curves, except that he needed to get rid of the condom. “I'll be right back.”

Jake got up and went into the bathroom to do his thing. When he returned, she was sitting forward in bed, with the sheet partially covering her.

“I should take a picture of you,” he said. Beside her, the ghostly curtains were billowing again.

She tugged the sheet closer. “You better not.”

It was tempting, to say the least. “You just look so pretty, that's all.” Mussed up and wearing the jewelry he'd given her.

“Thank you, but we don't need that kind of evidence from this night.” She patted the space next to her. “Now, come back to bed.”

“Yes, ma'am.” He hopped into the spot she offered. “So what kind do we need?”

“What kind of what?”

“Evidence from this night?”

She butted her shoulder against his. “Smart aleck.”

He shrugged, smiled, got closer to her. For the heck of it, he gave her a noisy kiss, and they slid down onto the pillows together.

“I'm not much of a cuddler,” he said.

“Then you're doing a good job, considering.”

He was trying. “You seem like the type who would like it.”

She sighed. “I am. I do.”

I do.
He frowned at her choice of words, feeling the weight of them. Someday, she was going to find a nice, proper guy. Someday, she would become someone's honeymoon bride.

But for now she was in bed with Jake, snuggling against him, all warm and cozy, where they both knew she didn't belong.

Six

C
arol awakened early. The room was bathed in soft morning hues. She noticed that the window was still open, but there was less of a breeze.

She'd slept soundly beside her lover. Too soundly, she decided. And now she was anything but calm.

She glanced over at Jake. Sometime during the night, he must have shifted onto his side because they weren't facing each other anymore. His back was turned and he was sprawled out, one leg inside the covers, the other one exposed, along with a portion of his naked butt.

Heaven almighty. What had she done?

A foolish question, if there ever was one. She knew darn well what she'd done. She'd gone into this with her eyes wide open.

She sat up and steadied her breath. She needed coffee, but first she was going to wash the remnants of makeup off her face, tame her hair and brush her teeth. Rather than trudge off to her bathroom without any clothes, she located her sarong and wrapped it around herself.

Just as she was preparing to slip away, Jake rolled over, nearly giving her a heart attack. She'd assumed he was dead asleep.

“Hey,” he said with a graveled voice and a half smile.

“Hi.” Did he have to look so good, so handsome and wild, with a bit of overnight beard stubble? “I'm going to freshen up, then make coffee. Want some?”

“Sure.” He sat forward, dragged a hand through his hair and squinted into the hazy patch of sunlight that spilled over him. “I need to hit the head, too.”

“Okay. I'll see you in a few.”

As he climbed out of bed, Carol darted off and practically stumbled over her body veil. She picked it up, but she didn't take the time to look for her panties. Uncertain of what Jake had done with them after he'd peeled them off her, she would search for them later.

She continued to her room, and once she was standing at her bathroom mirror, she removed her bracelet. She'd actually slept in it. The earrings, too, so she took those off, as well.

Then, after she was fresh and somewhat tidy, with her sarong tied a little tighter, she prepared the coffee in the single-serve machine in her room, making each cup separately. She added sugar to Jake's, the way he liked it. This wasn't the first time she'd sweetened his coffee and it probably wouldn't be the last. But it felt different from before.

Everything did.

Because she'd had sex with her boss. Wild, delicious, sheet-tumbling, tongue-kissing, body-scorching sex.

She brought the coffee to his room, trying to keep her hands from shaking. Jake was back in bed, looking as if he'd splashed a bit of water on his face, too. He certainly seemed more awake. She handed him his cup, and he thanked her.

Instead of joining him in bed, Carol opted for a nearby chair. He was still naked, except that he had a pillow on his lap, to protect himself from the hot beverage, she assumed.

Struggling to stay focused, she sipped her coffee, a perfect brew for a nervous day—strong and rich and aromatic.

“Are you concerned about last night?” he asked.

Lying would get her nowhere. Besides, her emotions were probably written all over her face. “It definitely feels weird now that it's over.”

“Yeah, it does. But we knew what we were getting into when we did it.”

“That's for sure.” They couldn't behave as if they weren't aware of their actions. “Morning was bound to come.”

Falling silent, he let his gaze roam over her, his eyes dark and intense. Then he said, “I don't think it should end like this.”

She blinked, not quite catching his drift. “What?”

“Us. The sex. We should keep doing it all weekend.”

Confused, Carol debated what to say. She glanced at the nightstand, where the rest of the condoms were. “You want to do it some more, even though you agreed that it seems weird?”

“Ending it so quickly will make it even weirder. We might as well make the most of this couples-only thing. And there's no denying how hot we are together.”

No, there was no denying it. She could still feel the forbidden thrill of their union. The warm, slick foreplay. The hard-driving rhythm. The orgasmic shivers.

Every moment was embedded in her brain. In her body. Even in parts of her soul. It had been the most exciting night of her life. But the most irresponsible, too.

Dare she repeat it over the next few days? “Are you sure we shouldn't just cut our losses now?”

“And do what for the rest of the time that we're here? Hang out at the beach and pretend it didn't happen? Better to embrace it, I think.”

Her pulse jumped. “By getting naked again?”

“I'm already bare. And under that pretty dress of yours, so are you.” He set his coffee aside. “Aren't you?”

“Yes.” Her voice all but quavered. She hadn't put any underwear on this morning. She still had no idea where her panties from last night were, either. Maybe stuck in the bedcovers somewhere?

“So what's it going hurt?” he asked. “A weekend of fun, sun and great sex. Things could be worse.”

“What about the other guests here? Are we going to try to hide it from them?”

“I don't see why we should. Besides, most of them probably already assumed that we were a couple, anyway.”

She thought about her conversation with Lena and how it had influenced her to sleep with Jake to begin with. “Lena predicted it.”

“She did?”

“When we talked at the party. But we can't let anyone figure it out when we get home. I can't handle people at work knowing.”

“I agree. It'll be over as soon as we leave the island. We won't ever do it again, and no one at the office will be the wiser. It'll be our secret. But for now, I think we should enjoy each other's company.” He held out his hand, beckoning her. “Come on, Carol. Indulge me.”

Sweet mercy, she thought. He was just too charming to resist. As she left her chair and came forward, he pulled her into his arms and kissed the living daylights out of her.

She rolled over the bed with him, letting him untie her sarong. He put his hands all over her naked body. She did the same thing to him, exploring that gorgeous golden-brown skin and those strong, sculpted muscles. She couldn't stop touching him.

They'd both staked their claims, and now it was official. They were having a fling. A weekend rendezvous. A mind-spinning affair.

“Take a shower with me,” he said. “I want to get wet with you.”

She circled her arms around him, pressing her body closer to his. “You're already making me wet.”

He lowered his hand, spreading her, testing her, teasing her. “That goes with the territory.”

She moaned from the pressure building between her thighs. “A shower sounds amazing.”

“Then let's go.” He withdrew his fingers. “We can finish this in there.”

Carol wanted him to finish her, as many times as he could. They sat up, and he removed a condom from the nightstand.

She took stock of the inventory. “Do you have any more of those in your luggage?”

He fisted the packet. “No, just these.”

“There will only be three left after we use that one.”

He smiled, then jerked his head, his hair falling across his forehead. “That's not enough for two more days?”

She smiled, too, anxious to climb into the shower with him. “I don't know. Is it?”

“I guess we're going to have to pace ourselves.”

So far, they weren't doing a particularly good job of that. It wasn't even noon yet, and already they were gearing up for water-drenched sex.

They entered his bathroom, where the contents from his shaving kit were strewn about the counter. He'd left his toothbrush and toothpaste out, too, with the tube uncapped. Carol never did that.

Of course Jake had a housekeeper who came to his house at least once a week. He had a chef who put healthy meals in his fridge, too. He'd become accustomed to people looking after his needs.

But not always, Carol reflected. He was an orphaned child, just like her, a kid who knew what it was like to be alone, with barely anyone to care.

He turned on the shower, and as soon as it was warm enough, they stepped into the clear glass enclosure. The luxuriously designed stall was big enough for two, fitting them comfortably.

They took turns under the spray, and he helped her shampoo her hair. She'd never had a man do that for her before, and it felt wonderful. He soaped down her body, too.

Slow and sudsy.

Carol washed him as well, working her way down, until she was on her knees, rinsing him clean.

“Damn,” he said, tangling his fingers through her wet hair.

She took him in her mouth. He was big and hard and getting harder with every stroke. She wasn't normally this bold, but she wasn't going to waste a second of their time together.

He moved with her, watching her, keeping his hands in her hair. But he didn't let her bring him to completion.

“My turn,” he told her, changing places with her.

When Jake dropped to his knees, Carol shivered from head to toe. He was determined to make her come, and she was more than happy to let him do whatever he wanted.

Her boss had become her undoing, her vice, her craving, her full-blown, take-me, have-me, I'm-yours hunger. She didn't want to think about how difficult it was going to be when they went home, when it was over for good, so she tried to block that from her mind.

He used his hands and his mouth. He satisfied every yearning she had, being the beautifully skilled lover that he was.

The climax he gave her rocked her to the core. She shook and shuddered and gulped the steam that was rising.

Jake stood up and tore into the condom wrapper. He put on the protection hastily and slammed into her.

Carol was going to relive this encounter for the rest of her supposedly proper life. It would never fade into oblivion, not even in a million years. She memorized everything: the hammering motion, the pounding spray from the showerhead, the bar of soap that had fallen and was spinning around the drain.

“I've got you where I want you,” he said, rasping the words, breathing heavily.

“I've got you, too.” She raked her nails over every part of him she could reach, and he rewarded her with a rough groan, proving how much he liked it.

They kissed in wild desperation. They even clanked their teeth, making frantic love, their hips thrusting to a powerful rhythm.

Then he said, “I'm not usually a morning person.”

She smiled, laughed, gazed at him through the thickness of the steam. “You could have fooled me.”

He laughed, too, looking wild and boyish, yet warm and protective. He held her tighter, and she stopped clawing him, using her fingertips to soothe the places she'd scratched.

They kissed again, only not quite so brutally this time.

Somewhere in the middle of the mania was friendship. The knowledge, she supposed, that they shared a childhood bond. That they'd lost everything, and now they had one crazy weekend, wrapped up together in bouts of guilty pleasure.

His release was strong and convulsive, and Carol absorbed the friction when he came, taking everything he was, everything about him, into her body. Until there was nothing left but the sound of running water.

* * *

After the shower, Carol and Jake ordered breakfast and had it delivered to Jake's room. Carol was grateful that Lena had hired a staff that could be trusted, who wouldn't sell tidbits to the tabloids or take unauthorized pictures.

Of course, Jake wasn't a big-time celebrity. His “Beefcake Bachelor” status wasn't enough to make him a star. No one followed him around, the way they did Lena and some of her other guests. But thank goodness this weekend was private, either way.

“Do you want to eat outside?” he asked.

“Sure. Why not?” Carol thought it sounded nice and relaxing.

He carried the tray onto the veranda, and they sat across from each other at a glass-topped table. She gazed out at the view. The pool area was vacant, almost eerily quiet.

“I wonder if anyone else is even up yet,” he said.

“Some of them are probably hungover from the party.” She cut into her eggs. She'd chosen poached, topped with cheese, tomatoes and pesto. “And the rest of them might just be lazing around like we are.”

“Yeah.” He was eating a sausage and egg scramble. “We haven't even gotten dressed yet.”

She nodded. Both of them were in their robes, and her towel-dried hair was still slightly damp. She'd combed it straight down, though. He'd only run his fingers through his, barely taming his thick dark locks. But his unkempt look was a part of who he was.

“So,” she said, still curious to know about his youthful rebellions, “what did you get caught doing when you were young?”

He made a face. “I stole things. Mostly video games and DVDs and stuff like that. Sometimes I would nab a bottle of booze, just for the hell of it.” He frowned at his food. “But my biggest thrill was lifting trinkets for the girls I liked. I'd have them show me what they wanted, then I'd go back on my own to steal it. That's what I got popped for. Taking this little diamond necklace from a department store.”

She studied him in the balcony light, the way the shade played over his face. “The store pressed charges?”

“Yep. I was arrested for shoplifting.”

“And now you buy women pricey gifts to make amends for what you did?”

He glanced up from his plate. “I never really thought about it that way, but I suppose I do.” He paused, fork in hand. “Or maybe it just makes me feel good, being able to afford to give them pretty things.”

Like the jewelry he'd given her, she thought.

“I started stealing about six months after my family died,” he said. “I was so freaked out in foster care I could barely stand it. I needed something that made me feel alive. That gave me a sense of purpose, even if I knew it was wrong. I was fifteen when I got busted, so it had been going on for a while before I got caught.”