Authors: Beth Michele
Tags: #romance, #adult contemporary, #romance adult, #steamy adult, #adult contemporary romance, #steamy contemporary romance, #steamy new adult romance, #romance adult contemporary
I manage to make it to my desk without
being too overwhelmed by yellow sticky notes, and I only have ten
voicemail messages. It’s a banner day. Settling in, I manage to
take one blissful sip of my Salted Caramel Mocha before Robby calls
to me.
“
Gabby, dahling. Come in
here a minute.”
I hesitantly get up from my
not-so-comfortable chair and make my way over to his office. The
sun is shining through the windows casting a warm glow on his face
that almost matches his orange silk shirt. A pencil sits atop his
ear and he has his feet up on his desk per usual, looking very
relaxed.
“
Good morning,
Robby.”
“
Good morning, sweetie. So
I hope all the sticky notes didn’t scare you.” He waves his hands
in the air. “But you know me, whenever a thought pops into my head,
I have to write it down.”
I chuckle softly. “No problem. I’m
good.”
“
Great! So we have a couple
of clients to see today, and I believe there’s a new one on the
schedule as well. Busy, Busy, Busy. Design, Design, Design.” He
claps his hands. “Let’s get on with it.”
I like Robby. He never makes me feel
like a peon and always makes me laugh. My desk is piled with
paperwork, and prioritizing is number one on my list today. We have
about thirty minutes before our first meeting and I’m in the
organizing zone. The stack of papers filled with design sketches
Robby drew are piling up and filing them is essential. My phone
rings, startling me, and I quickly answer it, almost dropping the
receiver to the floor. “Gabrielle Willis.”
On the other end I hear, “Hello,
Gabrielle Willis, this is Dane Rhodes.” Then silence.
I can’t seem to talk, but my body is
responding to his silky voice. After a pause, I offer,
“Hello.”
“
I just spoke with Robby,
and apparently you’re supposed to pick up some design plans at my
apartment today. I just wanted to find out what time you’d be
here.”
I am? I’m glad someone decided to tell
me that. “I’ll see you at two o’ clock.” Click. I hang up. I didn’t
even give him a chance to say anything else. At this point, my name
can be found right next to the word idiot in the
dictionary.
I can’t pay attention to anything
Robby or the clients are saying, as I’m anxiously glancing at the
clock non-stop. It’s like watching molasses drip from a spoon. It’s
only noon. The lunch meeting is dragging and I can’t even think
about food. It’s also not very appealing to listen to people talk
as they’re chewing. Two more hours to go. I’m nervous and my mind
is doing crazy Dane somersaults. All kinds of thoughts are going
through my head. Dane obviously called and asked for me
specifically. He must’ve been thinking about me, right? Must’ve
wanted to see me again, or perhaps he just heard I’m a skilled
assistant? I giggle. Perhaps he’s hoping I’m skilled in other ways,
too.
Robby glares at me. I guess my giggle
was a little too loud. “Gabby, do you have anything you’d like to
add?”
My smile suddenly disappears and I put
on my serious meeting face. “No.”
Finally it’s 1:30. I gather my
scattered wits and make my way to the ladies’ room for one last
check. I’ve been in here four times in the past hour; I’m sure
nothing has changed. I smooth my dress, brush my hair and tuck one
side behind my ear, and reapply blush and a bit of lip gloss.
That’s it. This is as good as it gets.
As I make my way to Dane’s Upper East
Side apartment, my heart is drumming against my chest. I haven’t
been this nervous about anything in a long time. I’m not sure
what’s happening to me, but whatever it is, I don’t want it to
stop. I wonder what he wants from me. I know what I want from him.
Sex, with a capital S.
Sweat is clinging to my
palms, my pulse visibly racing through my heated skin. I’m having a
hard time controlling my breathing as the elevator ascends to the
twenty-seventh floor. So much for the time I spent
in yoga class. I wring my hands repeatedly and
slowly count to ten. When I finally get to ten, the elevator pings.
Steadying my wobbly legs and wiping away the moisture trickling
down my forehead, I head down the hall to apartment 27-F,
attempting one last deep, calming breath before I ring the
doorbell.
The door opens almost instantly and I
freeze at the sight of Dane. I’ve obviously never walked through a
door before, because when he ushers me in, the feet that I so often
rely on have no idea what to do. I look down at my awkwardness
telepathically expecting a response, and wait. Still nothing, so I
look up. My eyes sweep the length of his body. The natural
inclination would be to stare into his green emeralds, but it’s
impossible not to move lower; a lot lower. I can almost trace a
line through the bunched cream fabric of his pants. Is it even
real? It should be illegal to walk around with that thing. Dane’s
lips part, forming a perfect O, for orgasm, I believe. The one I’m
about to have all over his brand new hardwood floors.
His lips curve up in a mouthwatering
smile. “See anything you like?”
My blue eyes manage to crawl back up
to his. “Nah, not really.”
His lips twitch, while the green in
his eyes sparkles. “So, shall we sit?”
That’s not exactly what I had in mind.
Geez, when did I turn into a sex fiend? After a second or two, I
find my voice. “Sure, let’s.” I try to calm my nerves and the
excitement I feel building in my body with a distraction. The view
seems to work. It’s actually pretty magnificent. Every facet, every
curve, every color, every inch of blue sky is visible from his
floor-to-ceiling windows. Wow. My view of the back alley pales in
comparison. “What a stunning view.”
I see Dane staring at me from the
corner of my eye. “I was thinking the exact same thing.”
Shit, he’s flirting with me again. My
cheeks warm and I quickly make an attempt to divert the
conversation. “So, when did you buy this place?”
He stalks closer to me. “I just closed
last month. I told Robby I want to move forward quickly, so I can
move in within the next three months.”
“
That’s a pretty aggressive
timeline.”
“
Well, I’m a pretty
aggressive guy.” Gulp. “Let me get the design plans.” He strides
out of the room, a walking billboard for sex. The temperature in
here is rising quickly.
I immediately become aware that there
are only two pieces of furniture in the apartment, a sofa and a
coffee table. Dane motions for me to have a seat beside him on the
couch. Taking out my notepad, I lay it on the table.
“
Come, have a seat next to
me.”
Cautiously, I make my way over and sit
down, but not too close. Dane smirks. He’s obviously enjoying my
uneasiness.
“
So, what did you have in
mind?” Could I be any more suggestive?
I see a hint of wickedness cross his
face. “Well, Gabrielle, that appears to be a very loaded
question.”
As if I couldn’t embarrass myself any
more with this guy. I attempt to clear my throat and speak. “So,
furniture and color, let’s start there.”
“
I’m thinking burgundy and
creams. In terms of furniture, I’m clueless, so that’s where I’ll
look to Robby for his expertise.”
“
Well, the space is vast,
so it can accommodate larger pieces of furniture. Because of the
expansive open floor plan, you’ll need to decide how you want to
break up the space – kitchen, living room, dining room,
etc.”
“
You certainly seem to know
a lot about design,” he says, “and I’m excited about seeing what
Robby can do with this place.”
Dane continues to talk, but I’m not
even listening. Some assistant I am. I’m busy admiring the view.
Contoured lips, sculptured shoulders...Fran’s right, I do need to
get laid. And he may be just the man for the job.
“
So what do you think,
Gabrielle? Or is it okay if I call you Gabby?”
“
Huh, yes, what was
that?”
A devilish grin passes over Dane’s
face. I’ve been caught red handed. I play it cool. “Yes, you can
call me Gabby. And I think I’ve got enough information for Robby.
He and I will put together some color swatches and when we meet
again you can decide what you like best.”
Gathering up my notepad, I make my way
to the door. Dane saunters forward three steps, while I clumsily
take three steps back until I feel a cold surface seeping through
the thin cotton of my blouse. His arms outstretch to the wall
behind me, surrounding me with muscle and virility, and I’m
trapped. I feel like a caged animal; one that’s in heat. My face is
burning from his proximity. His warm breath is inches from my
mouth.
“
When can I see you again,
Gabby?”
Those lips are so close now, and they
look so incredibly soft and delicious that I can practically feel
them on mine. He runs his tongue along the contour of his lips and
words escape me, and I press my legs together in hopes that I don’t
come all over his floor.
My mouth goes dry as I attempt to
swallow the giant lump that’s taken up residence in my throat.
“When…would you like to? See me that is?”
His eyes never leave my lips. “I’d
like to…see you on Friday. How about dinner?”
“
Sure. We can do dinner.”
Then, maybe we can do something else.
I turn to leave. Places to go,
messages to answer.
“
So, do you have time to
grab a coffee before you go back to your office? Perhaps at that
shop you frequent?”
Now? How the hell does he know I
frequent there? Has he been stalking me? “How do you know I
frequent there?”
“
I don’t know, I just
assumed.” Yeah, well don’t.
During our walk to the coffee shop,
Dane tells me about his job as an associate creative director at an
advertising agency. “It’s a fascinating job, really. I love the
creative freedom it gives me, and the ability to develop a design
based on an overall marketing strategy is really
exciting.”
“
It does sound
interesting.” Creative minds need creative jobs. That’s the one
thing my mom used to say that made any sense to me.
Dane’s job sounds sexy and seems to
fit his persona perfectly. He’d actually have a lot to talk about
with Fran. I’m trying to figure out how old he is. From what he’s
told me, coupled with his confident swagger, I’m thinking he has to
be about six years older than me, so maybe around thirty-one.
Perhaps I can learn something from him. The thought makes my
insides churn.
He puts his hand at the small of my
back and ushers me into The Brew House. I flinch, but don’t think
he notices. His touch does strange things to me. I feel needy and
achy in all the right places, and I like it. Brad sees me and I’m
on the receiving end of that killer smile. Wow.
“
Hi, Gabby.”
“
Hey, Brad. Brad, this is
Dane. Dane, this is my friend, Brad.”
Brad looks Dane over, eyeing his
expensive suit and manicured nails. “What’s up?”
“
Pleasure to meet you,
Brad.”
I order drinks for both Dane and
myself. Standing there, playing with the fabric of my blouse, I
watch Brad make our lattes and notice a tattoo peeking out from his
short-sleeved shirt, surrounding his bicep. I squint to make out
what it is, but we’re too far away. I grab our drinks and make our
way over to a corner table.
Dane speaks first. “So, you like this
place, huh?”
“
Well, obviously so if I
‘frequent it.’”
A smile plays on his lips.
“Touché.”
“
Actually, I like the cozy
atmosphere, and after going to Starbucks for such a long time, it’s
a welcome change.”
“
So, how long have you
lived in New York City?”
“
Three years now.” There’s
no way I’m telling him about all of my baggage. “Don’t get me
wrong, I loved California, but there’s something about New York
that excites me.”
Dane’s eyes twinkle. “I would say
there’s a lot about New York that excites me.”
Okay, he’s seriously flirting with me.
I turn my head to hide my face because it’s turning three different
shades of red right now. When I do, I happen to catch a glimpse of
Brad staring at me from behind the cappuccino maker. For some
reason, it makes me a bit uncomfortable and I start nervously
twirling the ends of my hair.
We sit and chat for another few
minutes. Dane tells me about his rather large family. “I have three
brothers and two sisters, all located in different parts of the
country. We’re all spread out, including my parents, which is hard
sometimes.”
As Dane is talking, I'm swinging my
leg under the table, my stiletto heel bouncing wildly. Suddenly, it
flies off my foot and across the tile floor of the coffee shop. How
Dane doesn’t notice the flying shoe is beyond me, but when I look
up, someone else certainly has. Brad has an enormous grin plastered
on his face, and I have a mask of red stuck to mine. I look back
down quickly and continue talking with Dane. How the hell am I
supposed to get my shoe back?
Shoe loss notwithstanding, I act like
I’m completely involved in this conversation. I don’t miss a beat.
“Do you still manage to see each other?”