Authors: M Leighton
I lean back to look at her. Her eyes are dark
and her lips are swollen. I can hear sanity knocking at the door,
but I ignore it when she leans slowly forward, stretching up on her
tiptoes, to bite my lower lip.
“Oh my God,” I groan, diving back into the
kiss. Olivia meets me right where we were. No reservations.
Without breaking contact with her lips, I
bend to pick her up and carry her to one of the chaise lounges away
from the elevator doors. I lay her on it, stretched out full
length, and I straighten to look down at her.
Her knees are slightly bent, giving me a
sneak peek of her slim ankles. My attention doesn’t stray from
there. Dropping to my knees, I press my lips to the top of her
foot, pushing the material of her dress up as I make my way to her
calf.
My palm skates lightly over her smooth skin,
pushing her dress along, as I lick and kiss a trail to her knee
then to the inside of her thigh. She spreads her legs the tiniest
bit.
An invitation.
I graze the tender skin with my teeth as the
tips of my fingers ascend to brush her damp panties. I hear her
gasp. I get hard in anticipation of hearing the noises she’ll make
when I’m driving my body into hers.
It’s when she stiffens that I realize
something’s wrong. I lift my head and my eyes meet her very alert
ones.
I’m confused when I see them fill with
tears.
“What’s wrong, Olivia? Did I hurt you?”
I didn’t think was rough…
She shakes her head. “No, it’s just…I just…we
can’t do this.”
As much as I hate to admit it, I know she’s
right. Marissa is too important in my plans to mess things up now.
And Olivia is
way
too nice a girl for me to drag her into my
crazy life.
With a sigh, I rest my forehead against her
knee.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN- Olivia
“You’re right,” I hear Nash murmur. Then,
when he picks up his head, he says more firmly, “You’re right.
Please accept my apology.”
He seems stiff and…distant. And it’s making
an already uncomfortable situation much, much worse. I sit up and
reach for his arm before he can stand up and move away.
“No, wait. Don’t do that. It was my fault. I
was flirting with you, knowing that you’re taken. Very taken. It’s
as much my fault as yours. Can’t we just sort of forget about it?
Not let things get weird?”
He watches me with those intense eyes for
several seconds before he speaks. And when he does, I’m relieved.
“Sure,” he says, standing to his feet and offering me his hand. I
slip my fingers inside his and he squeezes them lightly and pulls
me up.
I look down to make sure my dress has righted
itself around my legs, which it has, and when I look back up,
Nash’s eyes aren’t on my face; they’re on my chest. I look down to
see what he’s staring at. Much to my embarrassment, all
our…aggressive kissing caused my dress to shift a little. My boobs
are practically spilling out. There’s no NippleGate or true
wardrobe malfunction, but there is one hellacious amount of
cleavage showing.
Nash is still holding my hand. I shake it
loose and straighten my bodice. I can’t help but grin at him when
he finally meets my eyes.
“So that’s how you charm the cobra,” I
quip.
He smiles devilishly. “If you really want to
see what effect you have on my snake, I’d be happy to show
you.”
I feel blood rush to my cheeks and heat gush
into my belly. Just like that, we’re almost back where we
started.
We stare at each other for several seconds
and then Nash sighs. “I guess I should apologize again. I really
don’t act like this with most females. I swear.”
Casually, he takes my hand again and leads me
to the elevator.
“Not only am I glad to hear that, but I
believe you,” I assure him. And I do. Believe him, that is. He’s a
good guy. I can tell.
“You do?” he asks. By his expression, it
seems like he actually
cares
what I think.
Huh! Go figure!
“Yeah, I do. I know the kind of guy you
are.”
“And what kind is that?” He ushers me onto
the elevator.
“Smart, successful, driven, honorable.”
He laughs. “Wow! Although flattering, that
makes it sound like I should either be carrying a sword or meeting
someone at dawn for a duel.”
“I didn’t mean it like that. I mean, you’re
all sorts of other things, but mostly you’re a good guy. I can
tell.”
“And that’s a good thing?” he asks, his
expression dubious.
I smile. “To me, that’s a very good
thing.”
He returns my smile and I have to look away.
I feel like I’ve said too much. And I shouldn’t have qualified my
statement like I did.
Idiot.
“Well, as long as
you
think so…”
We fall into silence on the way to the
parking garage. I can’t think past the flurry of my emotions and
the feel of his thumb stroking the back of my hand. I know we
shouldn’t be holding hands as though we’re on a date, but I can’t
bring myself to pull my fingers free. This will be over all too
soon; I’m going to enjoy every last second of it while I can.
Tomorrow, reality returns. And, with it, Marissa.
Nash sticks with polite chit chat on the way
back, which is fine. I don’t have to think too much to participate.
I can just…be. And bask. And fantasize.
I can easily imagine what it would be like to
be heading home from a date with Nash. A real date. If he were
mine. To have such as dashing, successful man at my side, one who
turns me to mush with a look and sets me on fire with a touch. Nash
is like the best of both worlds. But unfortunately, he belongs to a
world I don’t fit into.
But Marissa does.
“So how do you like working for my
brother?”
Cash.
Just the thought of him, of his name, causes
my stomach to twitch with excitement. The look he gave me as he
bent his head to take the lime slice from between my lips was
nothing short of predatory. Spending virtually any amount of time
with a guy like that would be the ride of a lifetime. But then he’d
leave me brokenhearted.
They always do.
“I gather by your silence that it didn’t go
well. Do I need to extend my apologies on my brother’s behalf,
too?”
I’m ashamed of myself for thinking of Cash
when his equally gorgeous, equally hot twin is sitting in the seat
beside me. And he was just kissing me in ways that Cash didn’t, yet
I
still
think of Cash and get all gooey.
Ohmigod, you are a head case! A
whore
and a head case!
“Olivia?”
I jerk back to the present. “Oh God, no! It
went fine. I’m so sorry. I was thinking about work actually. I have
a shift on Wednesday.”
“So you’re enjoying it? And he was…all right
to work with?”
There’s something about his tone…
“Why do you ask? Did you expect that he might
not be?”
Nash shrugs. “No. Not really.”
“Not really?”
“Well…”
“Well what?”
“Cash is sort of a…a…”
“If it’s got someone as eloquent as you at a
loss for words, I can only imagine what it says about him.”
“No, it’s not like that. It’s just that I
figured Cash would like you.”
“Well, I’m glad he did. It’s going to save me
a lot of time and gas money.”
Nash tosses me a look of exasperation.
“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”
“What did you mean then?”
“Olivia, you’re beautiful, smart, funny. Any
man would want you. And my brother is no different. He’s just a
little more…aggressive about what he wants. I didn’t want him to
run you off.”
I think back to my banter with Cash about
sexual harassment. I don’t doubt he pushes the boundaries, but
never once did I get the impression he might force himself on me or
make unwanted advances. I just hope to God he doesn’t know that his
advances
aren’t
unwanted. I just wish they were.
“Well, you don’t need to worry about Cash. He
was a perfect gentleman and I have no reason to believe that might
change. I work for him. He’ll respect that.”
From the corner of my eye, I see Nash look at
me like I’m crazy. I ignore him.
Our conversation is cut short when we pull
into the lot outside the apartment I share with Marissa. I feel a
sigh lurking in my chest. I know Nash won’t come in. Because I
won’t ask him. And that’s for the best.
It just happens to suck.
As I suspect, he puts the car in park, but
leaves the motor running.
It’s for the best. It’s for the best.
“Thank you,” I say, meeting his dark,
fathomless eyes. They look like points of onyx in the glow of the
dashboard lights. “I had a really good time.”
His laugh is a disbelieving bark. “No you
didn’t.”
I smile. “Okay, I had
mostly
a really
good time. Thank you for bringing me. And I really hope—”
“Ah ah ah,” he begins, cutting me off. “Not
another word. None of what happened was your fault. I should’ve
expected nothing less from a bunch of vapid trophy wives. Not your
fault at all.”
I can’t help but think it’s funny he uses two
of the same adjectives I used for them earlier. Great minds…
“Well, the night would’ve turned out much
differently if Marissa had been able to go with you. She’d have
known exactly what to wear and…” I trail off, for the first time
realizing that I’ve been sabotaged. There is no doubt in my mind
that Marissa knew
exactly
what would happen if I turned up
dressed like I am.
“And what?” Nash prompts.
I look over at him. He deserves so much
better. So much more. I just wish I could give it to him. But I’d
be career suicide for a guy like him.
“Oh, uh, just that she’s much better suited
to that kind of thing, that kind of crowd. I’m just a country
girl.”
Nash leans forward and cups my cheek with his
hand. He cocks his head slightly as he considers me. “Don’t do
that. Don’t ever make it out like you’re less. Because you’d be
gravely mistaken.”
He looks straight into my eyes, as though he
wants me to see the truth of his words, as if he wants me to see
his sincerity. And I do. It’s there. It just doesn’t change
anything. It doesn’t change that he’s with Marissa.
He’s not that kind of guy. And I’m not that
kind of girl.
“I appreciate that, Nash.” I know I need to
go. No matter how much I want him to kiss me again, no matter how
much I want him to come to my room with me and finish what we
started, I know I can’t. I shouldn’t. I won’t. And neither will
he.
But if he did…
I speak right over top of that thought.
There’s no point in going there, because he won’t.
“Goodnight, Nash.”
His lips twist into a wry smile. I wonder
what he was expecting. “Good night, beautiful Olivia.”
Walking away from the car, away from Nash
when there might be some small chance he would come with me, is the
hardest thing I’ve ever done.
It’s not until the next morning I even
remember Nash told me his father was in prison for murder. That’s
pretty bad when my hormones can block out a homicide.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN- Cash
I’ve never really found it hard to stay away
from a chick before. Hell, I’ve never had reason to try. But this
time I do. There’s something different about Olivia. I want her in
my bed. Like, now. But she’s…I don’t know. I get the feeling she
requires a gentler, more careful touch. She’s a challenge.
And damn, if I don’t love a challenge!
I watch her as she pours a drink with Taryn
looking over her shoulder. I could pull Taryn to the side and
demand that she ease up on Olivia, but I won’t. Not only do I think
it’s good for Olivia—it brings out that feisty side of her—but I
think she’d rather handle it herself. And I admire that. A lot. The
more I’m around her, the more obvious it becomes that there’s a lot
more to her than a shy smile and a pretty face.
And, of course, a body that I can’t wait to
get inside.
And I will.
And she’ll enjoy every second of it. I’ll
make sure of it.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN- Olivia
It seems like every time I look up, I see
Cash. Sometimes he’s talking to clients, doing his owner slash
manager thing. But other times, often it seems, he’s watching me.
It makes me nervous, but not in a performance anxiety kind of way.
I’m confident in my ability to make a good drink, even with a drill
sergeant squawking in my ear. What I’m
not
confident in is
my ability to resist what Cash isn’t even trying to hide.
He’s interested in me. And not just as an
employee. Maybe very little as an employee, in fact. Every time my
eyes meet his, I feel like he’s undressing me. And, God help me, I
love it. Those sexy, velvety eyes are like a touch. I can almost
feel them, like hands on my body and lips on my mouth.
Admittedly, I have a thing for bad boys, but
Cash is…I don’t know. He’s different. I daresay he’s even
more
dangerous than my usual disastrous finds.
I look up and my eyes collide with his again.
He winks at me and my stomach flips over.
“That’s not how we make margaritas here,”
Taryn snaps in my ear. “Who uses orange juice?”
I exhale so loudly it sounds like a growl. I
could explain how a splash of orange juice adds a little something
extra to the flavor of the tequila, but I don’t. I’ve had enough of
Taryn’s bitchiness. “Fine,” I say, setting down the tequila bottle
a little more forcefully than I intended. “Then show me how you
make margaritas here.” I stand back and cross my arms over my
chest.
The look Taryn throws me is both angry and
satisfied. Obviously, she wanted me to crack. Well, she’s about to
get more than she bargained for.