Sara found herself still sitting at her desk on a summer Friday night, with a solid hour or more’s worth of work to do. She’d spent the past two weeks focused on nothing but the damn deal with Jack. And while he’d taken the opportunity to get all friendly with her which had resulted in some nice, long, flirty chats, the whole thing had her tied up in knots. He loved to text her with thinly veiled messages about hooking up, but he never actually asked her out on an actual date. The annoyance crossed with irritation mixed with anticipation was a buzz. But it exhausted her.
It had been an abnormally hot June. The office, full of people all day, had finally emptied. Sara changed into comfortable clothes and readied herself for some quiet time in the empty space, even as she realized she’d passed on at least three invitations to go out for drinks with colleagues. The fact that she’d rather be here doing the busy work of her job on a lovely Friday evening instead of hanging out and pretending to flirt with the guys she saw every day wasn’t lost on her. She’d just pulled her hair up into a ponytail and focused on her computer when her phone buzzed.
“Hey, Sara, I’m driving by your office right now.” The sound of Jack’s deep, raspy voice touched off something in her, as it did every time. Her brain slowly processed that he was proposing a face-to-face encounter.
Like, now. As in, right now.
“Are you there? As if I didn’t know?” He laughed and the sound of it sent a jolt of something wholly unfamiliar up her spine, landing at the base of her brain with a visceral sensation of simultaneous heat and cold. “I have a document for your buyer and I thought I’d just drop it off … you know, save us some time.”
Shit.
She glanced down at herself. One thing she loved was spending her hard-earned money on great clothes to show off her hard-earned physique, but she sure as hell didn’t have any of them on right now. In fact, she’d taken off a designer dress after an extremely lucrative closing at three p.m. and crawled into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt from her college days.
Figures. Jesus. Jack Gordon is on her way here and I look like I’m about to clean the damn office or something.
She ran into the office bathroom, yanked out the ponytail holder in her hair, and tried to remember if she had lipstick in her purse.
“Sure!” she claimed brightly. “I’ll meet you at the door.”
She used the toothbrush she kept in the bathroom closet, then splashed water on her flushed face. Anger at the fact she felt frozen in place by the idea that Jack Gordon planned to simply “stop by” after hours to see her made her dizzy.
In spite of her resolve to be strong, something in her was giving way, weakening her resolve to remain manless for as long as she could.
Yeah, well, fuck that. He’s interested in you.
She pep talked herself all the way to the front doors – a wide expanse of glass facing Ann Arbor’s main street. She heard the roar of his engine before she saw the car. Sara rolled her eyes.
A Stingray. What else?
Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself against the coming onslaught. She had work to do and would not be distracted by this – she couldn’t afford to be. But her body was already betraying her at the thought of him in her personal space. It was a familiar feeling. She’d been having wet dreams about him for the better part of a year. She sighed, determined that he’d likely never measure up to her fantasies but realized her hands shook as she reached for the door handle.
Yeah, OK, girl, settle down. This is Jack Gordon, every woman’s dream date. But he’s only here with paperwork.
She shook her head, looked up and there he was – all six-foot-four-inch, dark hair, blue eyes, sexy white smile of him. Resisting the sudden compulsion to look away, to not meet his eyes, she smiled back.
“Hey, gorgeous,” he began as he always did on the phone, his voice a low growl that matched his car engine’s rumble. “I’ve got something for ya.”
“Ha, I’ll just bet you do,” she threw back. Lame, she thought as she took in the sight of him in his dark blue suit trousers and striped dress shirt with French cuffs emphasizing what had to be an incredible torso, arms and chest. Jack had a classic male shape – wide shoulders tapering to a slim waist and long legs – and he wore a suit better than anyone Sara had ever seen. His red and yellow tie, which stopped just short of being loud, was flung over his shoulder from the ride. He smelled great, too – some combination of spice, cigar, and leather.
Damn. I’m screwed.
“No, really. My asshole seller agrees to your asshole buyer’s requests post inspection. I’ve got it all signed up here. Now all we lack is a good appraisal and we are golden, my lovely!”
“You call all the girl agents that, I’m sure.” She sighed and reached for the paper he held out, grazing his hand in the process.
His skin was warm. No, not warm. Hot, as if he’d been near a fire. She shivered, and the tingling in her scalp crawled down her spine and settled nicely between her legs.
She drew back. He moved forward to fill the empty space between them. Their silhouettes darkened the entry foyer. He remained shy of touching her – staying just out of reach.
“You know, I was looking for an excuse to see you in person,” he said. “I’m really gonna miss our little evening chats once this deal is done.”
“Yeah, well, you know where I live.” Sara waved in the general direction of the office as her breath caught in her throat. “I, um, gotta do some, you know, busy work tonight so…”,
Don’t go…don’t go…don’t go….
“So do I – but I just can’t help thinking that we could come up with something a bit, I don’t know… more fun to do together.”
“Um, yeah, I guess we could go out if you want, but I’m not really dressed for it.” Sara’s brain fogged over. Was he asking her out on date? Before she could speak, react or even move, his lips covered hers.
Her mind immediately grasped the fact that the entire downtown of Ann Arbor could see them sucking face in the vestibule of her office. Her manager would really not be pleased.
Oh dear Lord.
As he became more insistent, Sara responded with the sort eagerness she’d never experienced before. His lips were softer than she would have thought, but became increasingly more demanding that she share and open her mouth to him. She gave in, parted her lips, and placed her hands on his chest sending her last bit of resistance swirling down the drain.
He licked her lips, nipped at her bottom one, and then swept inside, possessing her with his tongue. She gave way, fully aware that this guy, wanted by so many, held her, right there, and had reached under her hair to tug her closer. Sara had not fully acknowledged her level of horniness until that moment – when the man who represented everything so wrong for her prepared to blow apart her world with the touch of his hands and mouth.
Jack had kept distance between them during their initial contact, as if gauging how she would respond before committing himself. Once she green-lighted him with her body language, he moved closer, grasped the back of her head with one hand, his fingers twisting and threading through her hair.
Any and all hesitation disappeared as he deepened the toe-curling kiss. His other hand traveled the length of her back and reached up again to cup her head. He flitted over her ass, teased, seemingly determined to draw it out until she asked for more. Her traitorous arms wrapped around his neck, as she rose up on her tiptoes.
Oh my God, don’t do this, Sara. Just. Don’t.
But the compulsion that had built over the past year commanded her, and she molded her body to his as if it were the most natural thing in the world. A loud knock on the glass made her jump away and run her hand through her hair as the college kid on the other side laughed and mimed a blowjob, until his buddies drew him away.
She glanced up at Jack, saw his skin flush with anger or passion. He smirked as he watched the guys’ retreat into the soft Michigan summer night then turned to face her. His face remained inscrutable, but when he turned that sapphire gaze back to her, she had to reach back and grab the wall or risk doing something truly alarming, like fling herself at him.
Where in the hell had that come from?
This was not how she acted.
She shook her head, took a step back. Before she could speak, he was in her space again, running a finger down her face, Gentle, but without a doubt, in complete control.
“Sorry, Sara, I just couldn’t help myself.” His rough voice made her skin pebble. “Let’s lock up here. You grab your stuff. We’ll go somewhere for a drink.”
He followed her inside the second set of doors, close enough so she could smell him – a unique combination of soapy manliness, subtle cologne and lust. Her chest constricted. Danger signals flashed in her vision. He reached up and flipped off the lights as she rounded the corner of the front desk on her way back to her office. She turned around to tell him not to bother with them – that they kept that set on, and ran straight into his neck. He pulled her to him and muttered into her ear as she struggled to disentangle herself.
“Shh…wait. It’s okay. I’ve got you.” His hands moved from her head, to her neck, and down her back before cupping her ass. She reached up to grasp his head and force his mouth back down to hers, making a near animal sound in her throat as their tongues collided. She twined her hands in his hair as a primal, almost painful need rose in her, making her squirm and clutch him tighter.
