Sex Addict (30 page)

Evan’s mouth fell open at the smartass message, and as the words and the contents of the cup registered, he found his lips tipping up in a grin.
That sneaky little wench.
So she wants to play that game, does she.
Well, that was fine by him. After all, he’d been the one to invent it.

Bring it on, Ms. Spencer. Bring. It. On.

Wednesday

EVAN DASHED THROUGH the front doors of the building that housed Kelman Corporations the next morning, with a tray of coffee in his hands. A security guard gave him a warm smile as she held one side open for him, and he greeted her with a good morning and a quick wink as he stepped through. He’d made sure to arrive early, just as he had been for the last couple of days. He wanted to get upstairs and into Reagan’s office before the little minx arrived.

When the elevator hit their floor, he bypassed the empty reception desk, Amy not having arrived yet. He held the tray in one hand and fished around in his pocket for the key Bill had given him to the office. Once he’d let himself in, he made his way down the hall and went directly into Ms. Spencer’s immaculate place of work. He glanced at the bright red couch that lined the wall and remembered the first day she’d interviewed him.
 

That felt like years ago, not months. She’d been so cool that day, going over the facts and figures of his job as if she barely knew him. Keeping him at arm’s length. But little did he know just how
well
she’d known him after all.
What a twist of fate.

Pulling himself out of his daydream, he crossed her office and placed a coffee on her desk and then dug into his pocket and pulled out two packets of sugar. He placed them down next to the cup and smiled to himself as he backed out.

Oh yes, Reagan, two can play this game.

* * *

“ALLENDALE HAD GREAT things to say about you and Evan,” Bill said from where he sat across from Reagan in her office.
 

She raised her brow. “Is that right?”

“Why do you look surprised?”

“No reason.”
Other than the eventual hate-fucking that took place five minutes after they’d left.

“They said they’d have a decision made within the next few days and will let you know.”

“Good, good.” Reagan nodded. “We’ll be ready for them.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” Bill said. Then he shifted forward in his seat, and Reagan inwardly groaned. He always assumed that position when he was about to say something serious. Something about Evan, no doubt.

“So, I noticed things aren’t quite as…
heavy
around the office this week,” he began.

Bingo.

“We’re all professionals here,” she said. “No reason to drag our personal lives into the workplace, right?”

Bill cocked his head to the side and gave her a look that said he didn’t buy that for a second. Smart guy.
 

She held up her hands. “All right, fine. No more bullshit. Things got messy, and that was entirely my fault. I never expected to get involved with Evan, so for that, I apologize. You don’t have to worry about any repeats, I promise.”

“Reagan,” Bill said, and then shook his head. He was silent for a long moment before he spoke again. “You’re like a daughter to me, you know that—”

“I do, and that’s why I’m sorry—”

“I wasn’t finished,” he told her, and she clamped her mouth shut. “I only want the best for you. I don’t like to see you upset or in pain. Now, I don’t know the specifics of what happened between you and Evan, and I don’t need to. I know his past. I know there’s more to the story, and I know the man has been through more than most people should.”

Reagan narrowed her eyes. “What are you trying to say, Bill?”

He rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed. “You’ve always been a spark of a thing. And I think…maybe…that’s helped him…” His voice trailed off, and he didn’t need to say any more.
 

In his own way, Bill was giving her permission to try again with Evan—if she wanted it.
 

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she nodded. “Thank you,” she said, her voice barely a whisper.
 

Bill raised a fist to his mouth and coughed a little, shifting in his seat. Then he eyed the unopened sugar packets on her desk. “Since when do you put sugar in your coffee?” he asked, clearly deciding now was the time to change the subject.

Since Evan put a coffee cup on my desk this morning stating:

Asshole.
 

But as she thought about his message, she couldn’t help the giddy feeling that accompanied it. He was playing with her, and if there was one thing Evan James was good at, it was playing you until he won
.
And she had to admit, she didn’t mind giving the victor the spoils when it came to him.

Thursday

DEAR MS. SPENCER,

I was disappointed to come into a caffeine-free zone this morning. But in case you feel inclined to rectify the situation, I’ll have my “usual” order. Make it a large.
 

Evan James

Dear Mr. James,

My, my, aren’t you presumptuous this morning? Your usual? As in the tar you enjoy in place of an actual coffee? Perhaps I can swing by and drop off the sugar you left for me. They weren’t needed, you see, since I’m sweet enough already. Or maybe you’ve forgotten and need to have another taste…

Ms. Reagan Spencer

P.S. As for the size of your…coffee—I never had any doubt ;)

Dear Ms. Spencer,

Are you fucking serious?????

Evan James

Dear Mr. James,

About which part?

Ms. Reagan Spencer

Not five seconds after she’d hit send, her phone rang, and she leaned back in her chair and crossed one leg over the other. She had a feeling whatever was about to come might make her…squirm.

She picked up the receiver, and as soon as it was by her ear, her lips quirked into a wicked smirk. “Reagan here.”

“I would appreciate very much if you would stop sending such inappropriate emails.”

Evan’s voice sounded strained through the phone, and she moved her hand up to stroke her fingers over her pearls only to notice…
Fuck, where are they?
She jerked up in her chair. “Shit.”

“Exactly,” Evan said through the phone.
 

“No, no…” she said, slightly frantic as she looked around the floor, having completely forgotten about flirting with Evan.

“Reagan? What’s the matter?” he asked, sensing her panic now that the line had gone silent.

“My pearls. I’ve lost my damn pearls,” she told him, her breath coming a little harder as she bent at the waist to look under her desk. When Evan’s low laugh came through the phone, she almost gave in to the urge to slam the receiver back on its holder. She didn’t need him laughing at her. This was serious shit. Her
mother
had given her that necklace.

“Reagan?”

“Hmm…” she said absently.
 

“Your pearls. They’re sitting on my nightstand at home.”

Wait…what?
She sat up in her chair and blew her hair off her forehead. “What do you mean they’re at your home?”

He chuckled through the line and then told her in a voice that practically reignited the heat between her thighs, “They fell off your neck when I fucked you over the conference table.”

Her mouth fell open and her pussy throbbed.
Well, damn. I asked.

“Oh, and Reagan…”

She swallowed and closed her eyes at the silky caress of his voice. “Yeah.”

“If you want them, you can come fucking get them.”

As the phone went dead, she stared at it and had two thoughts. One, Evan James was trouble with a capital fucking T. And two, there was nothing on the planet that was going to stop her from going and getting her pearls back.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

REAGAN HAD FOLLOWED him home. Evan smiled to himself that she’d come to his turf just for a necklace. Oh, who was he kidding. He’d taken the damn thing on purpose, hoping it would urge her closer, and it looked like the plan had worked. Well, maybe not as well as he would’ve liked. Her stubborn ass was still in the lobby refusing to come up to his apartment. He didn’t plan on hand-delivering, though, so she’d eventually be making that elevator ride. And while he waited he’d make himself comfortable.

After ridding himself of his jacket and tie, he grabbed a beer from the fridge. A buzz sounded, and he sauntered over to the intercom, taking a swig of his drink before answering. “Yes?”
 

“Don’t yes me. Get your ass down here.” Reagan’s annoyed voice had him chuckling.

“See, that’s not how it works. You followed me all this way. It’d be a shame not to get what you came for.”

“Evan—”

“Come up, Reagan.”

“Stop being such a pain in the ass, and get down here.”

“And what’s the magic word?”

“Now.”

He tsked. “Wrong answer. I’ll see you Monday.”

“Fine,” she said, irritation lacing her voice. “I’m coming up.”

“See you then.” He let go of the intercom button and took another swig of his beer. As he opened the door, a loud THUMP sounded from the neighboring wall.
You’ve gotta be kidding me.
The fucking sex rabbits next door had incredible timing.
 

Leaning against the doorjamb, he waited for Reagan to finally make her encore appearance at his place. When she stepped off the elevator, a scowl across her beautiful face, his cock twitched.
 

Fuck, but he wanted her in his bed again. Or in this hallway. Didn’t much matter the place.

“All right, where are they,” Reagan said, holding out her hand as she stopped in front of him.
 

“Nightstand. You remember the way.”

“I’m not going inside.”

“That’s too bad.” Evan pushed off the frame and went to shut the door when Reagan’s hand shot out.
 

With a glare, she marched past him into his bedroom.
 

“You know, this is an ill-fated attempt at getting me back in your bed. It won’t work this ti—”

Another loud THUMP from next door cut off her words, followed by moans of pleasure. She swiveled around and raised an eyebrow. “Mood music?”

Evan wandered into the room behind her and stopped at the foot of his bed. “How can it be mood music when you just told me I had no chance of—”

“Oh, fuck me,”
came through the wall.
 

“—doing
that
to you.”

He saw Reagan’s eyes wander down his frame, and when she sank her teeth into that pillowy bottom lip of hers
, God fucking damn
, she wasn’t going to make this easy. She turned away from him and walked down the side of the bed to snatch the pearls off the nightstand. As she came back toward him with her prize in her hand, he stepped to the side, placed his beer on the tallboy, and blocked her path.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“I got what I came for. Now let me pass, Evan.”

He lowered his eyes to the dainty fingers holding the necklace and then shook his head. “No. I don’t think so.” He held his hand out to her. “Here, let me help you put them back on. I’d hate for you to lose them again.”

She eyed him warily, probably assuming the worst. Smart of her, really, but then again, nobody could call Reagan a fool. Lifting her hand, she placed the necklace into his outstretched one, and his mouth turned up on the sides.
 

“Turn around. It will be easier that way.”

She didn’t move at first, but he saw her swallow and lick her lips, as if thinking about her next move. “No funny business. Okay?”

Evan inclined his head slightly, but didn’t agree. Instead he repeated, “Turn around.”

* * *

REAGAN CLENCHED HER fingers into fists by her sides, trying to stop her shaking hands. She knew this was a bad idea. A monumentally bad one, but instead of pushing past the sexy man in front of her and running for the door, her masochist ass turned around, as per instruction.

She sucked in a quick breath when she felt Evan step behind her. The heat radiating off him made her fear for her clothes, thinking that if they touched they would disintegrate to ash. Then he spoke.

“You know, the very first time I ever saw these pearls, I had a wicked fantasy about seeing you in them and nothing else.”

His arms came around in front of her, and she remained frozen as the tiny, cool spheres touched the skin of her collarbone. She kept her eyes trained on the wall behind his headboard and tried to block out the moans from the woman on the opposite side, but if she were going to be honest, they were making her as hot as the man who was behind her, taunting her.
 

His mouth came down by her ear, his warm breath floating over her skin as he continued to whisper words that set her blood to a feverish boil.
 

“The clasp was broken when I found this. I guess it couldn’t hold up against the rigors of your workday, but not to worry. I got it fixed for you. It’s sturdier, so if you ever have to work so
hard
again, it shouldn’t fall off.”