Bargaining with the Boss (8 page)

"Escargot is nothing. It's the cheese that gets me."

"Right? Why does it had to smell like that? I don't want to hold my nose while I'm eating dinner. Though, sometimes I would have to anyway if I was eating with my ex's work friends. Well, not friends. Business associates."

"Oh really?" He buttered two pieces of bread, then set them in the skillet, listening as she went on.

"They were so obsessed with wearing the best cologne money could buy that they didn't even care what it smelled like--they just wanted it to be the most expensive one. By the time we got to dessert, my head was always spinning. One time, I almost passed out right in my creme brulee.”

"It's like that with the women at charity events, too." Brooks added.

"Oh god, the charity events! Don't get me started," she trilled another laugh and it took all if energy not to skirt around the island and move closer to her.

"The charity stuff was always the worst. It'd be a ton of greasy old men and ditzy girls and nobody every knew what the cause was."

"You know, once I went to a 'save the elephant' gala and an old woman spent most of the night showing off her antique ivory bracelet set."

"It doesn't surprise me." Natalie laughed. "Oh, in the beginning, I used to fight tooth and nail to stay home from those things. I must have pretended to be sick at least twenty times a year just so I wouldn't have to listen to Biddy Hartwell talk about her grandchildren anymore. I mean, I get it. They're smart."

"Not so smart. The oldest got arrested for drug possession last week." He opened the tuna, then set to work finishing his masterpiece.

"You knew Biddy?"

"Of course. She was always trying to set me up with her daughter. Who, by the way, is twenty years my senior. But Biddy was never the worst of them. The worst was--"

"Molly Buchannan?" Natalie chimed and he turned to find her grinning at him.

"How did you know that?"

"Because there was never a more annoying woman placed on this earth than Molly Buchannan. And she'd never let you back out of anything. And she always wanted help. Or to set you up."

"Or to be your girlfriend." Brooks added.

"Strangely, I never had that problem." Natalie laughed again, and for a while he listened to the crackling of the pan and her soft breathing behind him.

This was nice, he decided. Being in a home. Relaxing with a friend.

"I'm surprised you have anything bad to say about the society set. By the look of you in the papers, you can't get enough of it," she said.

Was that what it looked like? That he loved the time he spend coddling heiresses or schmoozing with men who could talk about nothing than the antique airplane they were restoring?

"Clearly, you don't know me all that well."

"Don't I?"

He turned to face her, then placed his elbows on the island and tried to think of the best way to explain himself. "I go to those functions for the business. To keep our face in the public mind. But that's not why I end up in the papers. I show up in the papers because those damned parties are so dull that the second I spot a chance to distract myself, I snatch it up. And I take those distractions very seriously."

"I can tell." Natalie bit on her bottom lip, but she couldn't disguise the smile spreading over her face. Than she continued, "you're burning the tuna."

Dammit.

Another thing they had in common.

N
atalie woke
to find her television on, cold pizza on her coffee table and Brooks Adams passed out on her couch. His head was resting on her stomach, his legs draped over the arm of the sofa as he snored quietly in his sleep.

When had they fallen asleep?

They'd been watching old movies, talking about the parties she used to go to and the people she'd met. The stupid social formalities and then...

She couldn't remember. She must have dozed off talking about something or other and Brooks had done the same.

It was odd in a way, this man sleeping on her looked so peaceful. Without those frosty blue eyes of his staring down at her, it was almost possible to forget the kind of sway he had over her emotions. He was so close. If she reached down, she'd be able to brush back his chestnut hair. To feel the light stubble that always covered his cheeks...

She swallowed hard.

What was she going to do when he woke up? Hell, what was she going to do in general? She'd made up her mind about him, had decided that he was the worst kind of man to bring into her life.

But after last night...

She sighed and reached for her phone. Maybe if she texted Rachael she'd know what to do. After all, she didn't have to say it was Brooks.

She could just say it was some mysterious stranger whom she had previously hated with the burning passion of a thousand suns but who now, as it happened, sort of maybe kind of turned her on.

Yeah, that could be anyone.

She slid her thumb over the lock screen to find a big red notice in her text messages.

Five missed messages. All from Franco.

She thumbed the message screen open and scanned it.

W
hy are
you blowing up my phone?

O
h
, just saw the interview. Damn.

C
an you believe this shit
? It's all out-and-out lies.

N
atalie
? Can you call?

J
ust finished the interview
. I think you might be right. It's time for some damage control.

H
er thumb hovered
over the keyboard, but she couldn't bring herself to say anything. After all, what else was there to say? She couldn't take away whatever Gianna had said in that sham of an interview and as for the damage control...

She glanced down at Brooks just as he shifted in his sleep. One strong bicep was draped over her thigh and he held it tighter. Like his own personal pillow.

It wouldn't make sense if she suddenly couldn't help Franco. And she certainly couldn't leave him hanging, either.

But she couldn't use Brooks, all the same.

Before it had felt like an indecent proposal, now it felt...wrong. After last night, something had undeniably shifted between them, and she couldn't pretend like it hadn't.

Like, if they slept together now, she wouldn't have just as much to gain as he did.

She closed her eyes, willing an answer to come, but nothing happened.

Finally, she thumbed a response.

I
'll call you tonight
. I'm going to figure out the next step.

S
he set
her phone on the side table and sat back.

Right now, Franco was the least of her worries. When Brooks got up, she had to figure out how to act. Were they friends now? Were they going to pretend like it had never happened?

And what if he brought up the bargain?

Worse, what if he wanted to leave?

She sucked in a breath and tried to run through her options, but the sudden movement of her stomach jolted Brooks awake.

Trial by fire, then. Perfect.

"Good morning." His voice was even grumblier in his semi-sleep and her traitorous heart flipped over in her chest.

"Morning." She was all too aware that her shoulders were somewhere near her earlobes, but there was no controlling it. Maybe if she just let him set the pace...

"So, how did you sleep?" he asked.

"Pretty okay." She stretched slightly only to find that every muscle in her body had been wacked out of joint. Apparently, her face betrayed the feeling, because Brooks laughed.

"Yeah, you need a new couch." He shifted to sitting and she chewed on her cheek as she could the sight of his impressive morning erection. Not that she was looking on purpose or anything.

"I'll ask for a raise."

"I'd be interested to see how that works out for you." He stood and circled his arms, then let out a long yawn. With him standing over her, she was reminded yet again of his imposing height. He could have been a basketball player in another life.

Yeah, he'd probably look good in one of those uniforms, too. With his biceps bulging and--

"So, since dinner was a bust, it looks like I still owe you a meal. Breakfast?" He raised his eyebrows.

"And here I'd heard that you never stay for breakfast."

"I guess you're just lucky." He walked toward the kitchen without another word and she watched him go, trying to remember what she'd been so nervous about.

She followed him and then sat at the counter, watched as he fried two eggs in one of her big copper skillets.

"So, what are your plans for today?" she asked.

"I have a charity auction to attend this afternoon. Lots of stodgy stuffed shirts and old women who sniff when they learn my name. I was thinking I'd probably get a civil war cannon or something cool." He shrugged. "I tried to pawn it off on Garret, but since he and Rachael got together I can barely get him to leave him house."

"Same thing with Rachael. I swear, the two of them must..." She cut herself off. She wasn't about to mention sex in front of Brooks. Not until she knew her next move, anyway.

"They must spend all their time playing Parcheesi and enjoying each other's company? Yeah, I think so too. It's irritating." He offered her a knowing smile and then slid a plate of eggs toward her. "You have plans for the day?"

"Not really. The benefits of leaving the stodgy life behind. I don't have to spend half of every Saturday stuffing myself into a dress."

"I doubt you'd be stuffing yourself into anything." He surveyed her up and down, and she put down her fork for a minute, suddenly aware of the dryness in her throat.

"Anyway, I think I might grab a magazine and head to the beach. Catch some rays."

"That sounds nice." He slid onto a chair beside her, and she couldn't bring herself to take another bite. Not while he was staring at her like a cheetah on the prowl.

"So, I'll probably take a shower and get ready to go."

"Good deal. And speaking of deals--"

"You never made good on yours. What's your big sob story?"

He laughed, then took a bite of his eggs and shrugged. "Typical. Cheating dad. Angry mom. You've heard it a million times before. You need more detail?"

"That's why you don't stick with one person?"

"No, I don't stick with one person because I've yet to find the right one." His gaze bore into her and heat spread through her cheeks again. Why did he always do this to her? Reduce her to the most basic of her human instincts?

"I see." She swallowed, and pushed her plate away. "Well, I should probably start getting ready for my day."

"I could be convinced, you know."

"To meet the right person?"

"Maybe. But we could start with convincing me to stay with you instead of going to the gala."

This was a trap. A big, huge trap that she had to be careful not to step into. And still she spoke without consulting her brain.

"What would you do here all day?" She knew the answer, but she needed to hear it from him.

"We could discuss the terms of our bargain."

"I took that back."

"Then let's renegotiate."

She licked her upper lip without thinking and his gaze dropped to her mouth, studying her so intensely that a shiver went through her body. She couldn't sleep with him now. It wasn't right. Wasn't fair.

Or, at least it wouldn’t be if the bargain was still on the table…

But if that wasn’t there, then what was he harm? Sure, he was her boss, but he’d said he knew they could handle it. And the more she thought about it, the more she thought it might be a good idea to satisfy their curiosity.

After all, that’s what he said he wanted, wasn’t it?

"No bargain," she forced himself to meet his gaze, waiting for him to respond.

“So, are you saying you don’t want to—?“

She shook her head. “That’s not what I’m saying.”

“So strings attached?” He asked.

She nodded. “No strings attached.”

When her gaze met his she took a deep breath and continued, "If you want to follow me, the door to my bedroom is open."

W
hen he stepped
into the bedroom, he found himself holding his breath.

He didn't know why, exactly. Maybe it was that it had never been like this with other women. Normally, the women he'd dated would readily fall into his arms, waiting for him to take charge and ravage them.

It had always been fun, sure.

But it was easy, too.

And if he'd learned anything over his past months of attempting to seduce Natalie Gains, it was that she was anything but easy.

When he crossed the threshold, he glanced down to find her plush pink robe on the floor at his feet. Slowly, he looked up and the breath he'd been holding escaped him as he took in Natalie's perfect curves.

She leaned against the doorway of what he assumed was the bathroom, the ends of her brown locks covering her nipples. Even with her hair there, though, he could tell that her peaks were stiff and pebbled.

How had he never noticed how perfect her breasts were before? They were firm and round and...and just big enough to fill his hands.

He clenched his fists at the thought, trying to think past the rush of longing and lust that shot directly to his cock at the idea of touching her.

"Speechless?" she asked, and when her head tilted to the side, she revealed one perfect cherry nipple. God, what he'd give to take that tip between his lips and suck until she arched into him and begged for more.

Or until he moved lower and kissed her between those creamy white thighs...

"Can you blame me?" He managed. "I don't walk into a room with a naked woman waiting for me every day."

"Just every other day?" She cocked her brow, a playful smile tilting her lips.

Where could he even start with her? With those plump rosy lips? With her hard nipples? Or lower? Would he kiss her inner thighs, teasing her until he finally dipped his tongue into her waiting heat?

And was she wet for him now? Already? The way he was impossibly hard for her?

"It's your move now, boss," she said easily.

Boss...

"Climb onto the bed," he rasped.

"Don't I at least get to see you first?" she asked.

"I thought I was the boss?" He quirked an eyebrow at her and though he expected her to argue back, she did as she was told with surprising ease. She leaned back onto the pillows, her silky hair splayed out around her while the rest of her body relaxed against the mattress.

He glanced at the juncture of her thighs. "Spread your legs for me. I want to see your pretty pink pussy."

She did as she was told again, and her chest rose and fell faster on the mattress. Already, she was breathing so hard that he could practically hear her. How would that feel against his ear as he fucked her? Warm and soft and...

"Let me see you," she said again.

He shook his head. "Each time you ask adds more time until you can see me." His cock throbbed again, hating him for his speech, but he continued nonetheless. "Don't forget who's in charge."

She nodded.

"Now, touch yourself for me. And no backing down this time. Tonight, you're all mine." If she wasn't he was going to lose his damn mind. His heart was already pounding so loud in his ears that he was sure brain might explode at any minute.

Now that he'd seen her naked, it wasn't that he wanted to fuck her. It was that he needed to. That if he didn't, he would never be able to focus on anything but her.

She spread her legs wider, then, slowly, she traced her clit with a single digit.

"Good. That's really good," he encouraged, and then she moved lower, moving two fingers up and down her slit until he could see the juices dripping from her.

All the while, her gorgeous blue gaze bore into him. And when she dipped one finger inside herself and licked her lips, it was all her could do not to tear off his clothes and burry himself as deep as he possibly could.

But he couldn't. Not yet, at least.

For all he knew, they only had this one night together and then life would return to snide comments in cubicles and tiny tight skirts that he couldn't touch.

If that was the case, he was going to be able to picture every detail of the body beneath those skirts.

"It would be better if it was you." She'd whispered the words, but he heard them nonetheless.

"You're damn right it would. Do you think about me when you do this at night?" He paused, wondering if now was the moment when she'd break and fight back.

To his surprise, though, she nodded.

Damn.

His cock jerked against his jeans. He should undress right now. But then this would all be over.

"Good," he ground out. "Do you moan for me?"

"Yes" she whimpered, and then her fingers moved faster as her thighs quaked at her touch and her back arched off of the bed.

Her breasts were heaving so much that he wasn't sure where to focus his gaze--on her fingers working her wet pussy or the sexy curve of her breasts.

"Then moan for me," he said.

She bit her bottom lip then let out a low, longing sound that had him reaching for his zipper without thinking. It was too much to resist. He needed to hear her voice so close to his ear that the ripples of vibration skittered down his spine.