Fistful of Roses (What a Woman Wants, Book 1) (7 page)

“Your shirt’s wet.”

Ya think?
“Thank you, Einstein. I don’t think I would have realized that had you not pointed it out.” She slammed her hand over her mouth as soon as the words were out. Horror brought her gaze up to his; tension snaked through her.

Way to go, Sophie. Way. To. Go.

Her gaze skated away from his. Twenty-three, twenty-four… Dear God, would this thing move no faster? She closed her eyes and offered up a prayer. She needed this job, but wow, if her temper didn’t cool off, she’d be in the unemployment line for sure.

His chest moved up and down, and a sound similar to choking emanated from him. She ventured a look up and found his remarkably handsome face lit up by a smile.

He was laughing at her? So much for controlling her temper.

She reached over and pushed the button for the sixtieth floor several times, harder each time.

“Ms. Hanson?” Deep and resonant, his voice freaking moved her. It surely did.

She pressed harder, faster, on the button.

“That’s not going to get us there any faster. In fact—” He was cut off by a siren.

“What’s happening?” she asked as the elevator stopped suddenly. The lights went out, followed immediately by the emergency lights throwing a dim glow in the car.

A disembodied voice proclaimed, “The elevator is experiencing a temporary difficulty. Please allow fifteen minutes for security to override the problem.”

“You have got to be kidding me,” she muttered as she turned away from him and took a deep breath. Fifteen minutes alone in an elevator with her way too sexy boss was akin to running naked on the field at a Braves game. Not advisable. Nope, not wise at all.

“Is it so bad really?” There was a note in his voice she wanted to name but couldn’t reconcile to the big, sexy man who’d bum-rushed her at her house Friday.

She turned back to him, eyes searching his stoic features for the truth of that note. Nope, wasn’t there. For Ryan Locke to be insecure about anything would probably take the end of the world. The elevator stalling because she’d mashed that button like a crazed person didn’t qualify.

“I’ll bite. Is what so bad?” Sophie let her exasperation flow through her tone. Honestly, there was no way to control it at this point.

He shook his head, blue eyes veiled as his face tightened. He didn’t answer her. Dollars to doughnuts she’d pissed him off, and yeah, she was probably up a creek without a paddle now.

He dropped his briefcase and umbrella, gaze intent as he took a step toward her. She instinctively stepped backward until she met the cool metal of the elevator wall. It was only a couple of steps, but he stalked her. His big hand came up and drifted over her hair before he stepped flush against her and cupped her face.

Shock ran through her. The tingle that began in her extremities raced up her body, settled in her abdomen, swirled, and became molten. Where his body touched hers, heat seeped in, making her sag against him and go breathless. He lowered his head, his breath minty and sweet, his eyes hard and determined.

He was less than a millimeter from her lips when he spoke.

“Ms. Hanson, there’re two things I need you to do. One, stop getting your shirt wet, and two,” he paused, “stop biting your lip.”

She gasped and it brought said lips to his. Electricity sparked between them. He groaned before he took her mouth like a man dying of starvation. He flicked her lips with his tongue and just dived in. Her womb clenched, and she grabbed onto his shoulders, tried to climb into his body.

Sophie couldn’t reach around him, his shoulders were too broad, his frame too large for that, so she settled for digging her hands into his hard, oh-so-delicious pectorals as she struggled to inhale him.

Tongues dueled, teeth gnashed, mouths offered supplication and were taken. She tasted him, sharp, hot mint that made her eyes roll back in her head. Both of his hands cupped her face now, and his pelvis had aligned with her lower body as he pushed against her, taunting her with his hardness.

The man was freaking large everywhere. The feel of his shaft rubbing against her made her mewl, the sound uncontained and wild to her own ears. She didn’t care. She wanted him. Desperately. Had never wanted anyone, hell
anything
, with this driving, all-consuming intensity before.

His lips devoured hers, and after what seemed like only a split second, he rose away from her slightly. His breath teased a few stray strands of hair that had fallen into her face. His breathing was rough, every lift of his chest causing an ache in her own. Her nipples rasped against his, the wet lace of her bra creating an unbearable friction as his heat soaked into her.

She looked up, barely able to control the need to pull his head back down to hers. Something indecipherable passed over his features, and the movement of the car brought her back to reality.

She peered around his shoulder and noticed they’d reached their floor. Horror twisted through her as the doors to the elevator car slowly opened and revealed their office.

Holy shit.
His secretary, Emma, looked up from her perch behind a desk, and her eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets. She looked around nervously, got up, and headed toward the elevator in a way that was clearly alarmed.

Sophie was stunned into immovability. Ryan leaned back, his head swiveling to the open doors but not bothering to—
shit, he can’t move.
She was practically wrapped around the man. She had her right leg hooked over the back of his left one and her hands were gripping the front of his shirt as if her life depended on it.

Chagrin was a blade across the back of her skull. Her heart pounded as fear rushed through her. She released her grip like he’d burned her, and she quickly dropped her leg as she tried to make herself small, so she could hide behind his big body.

He shot her a look so full of smoke she was surprised she didn’t combust on the spot, but the situation was dire at this point. She heard voices headed their way. Emma made it to the elevator and punched a button. The doors began to close just as a stunningly attractive redhead came into view.

“Emma! Where’s—” The woman’s voice was muffled and cut off completely as the doors closed all the way.

The elevator lurched into motion and she sagged against the wall, needing the support now that he’d moved away from her. Thank God she’d been saved further embarrassment. Emma seeing her wrapped around their boss was bad enough. Anyone else would have tipped it straight to mondo-bizarro land and she would’ve been toast. Speech was beyond her at the moment.

He inhaled slowly, his face granite while the look in his eyes made her heart whump-thump, whump-thump. He started to reach for her, must’ve though better of it, and pushed that hand through his silky brown hair. His shirt was wrinkled where she’d grabbed onto him, and his cheeks were ruddy. She didn’t venture down below chest level. She’d probably sob if she saw his hardness outlined against his gray suit pants.

She was done for. A goner. So susceptible to this man she didn’t know how to react to the thought. The fact he was her boss not even on her radar when their lips met. The fact that she had insane responsibilities; again, not an issue when their bodies touched. She wiped a shaky hand across her face and stood. The elevator wasn’t moving. Why wasn’t the elevator moving?

*

Ryan was in so much trouble with Sophie Hanson. The things the woman did to him should be outlawed. She was slowly becoming a need. Like a crack addict who couldn’t put down the pipe, he was having a hard time keeping his hands, his lips, hell, his
body
off hers. The buzz he got off her was nothing short of addictive.

He’d had no intention of practically molesting her in the elevator, yet he’d done just that. She was a siren with her ivory skin, midnight hair, luscious red lips, and curvy body. She called to him, and he was going insane trying to deny it. He was a man being lured irrevocably by the call of a woman. His stomach clenched.
His
woman.

A hardened soldier who’d been through too many battles to count, Ryan couldn’t figure out why he had no control over the raging lust she roused in him. It was borderline painful. And there she stood, breasts rising and falling beneath a wet, navy-blue silk shirt, nipples peaked and begging for his tongue.

His hands itched. Hell, they always did around her. His head ached from the way he ground his teeth together. And his dick? His dick was a steel spike needing the softness of her pussy to ease the ache inside it. He adjusted himself and watched as she struggled to right her clothes.

She threw him surreptitious glances every now and then, and he caught her staring at the elevator’s digital readout, trying to decipher why they weren’t moving. The reason was simple; he’d hit the emergency stop. They wouldn’t be going anywhere until he damn well wanted them to.

As crazy as this insane attraction to her was, he couldn’t begrudge it. Sure he was her boss, sure Hayden had his doubts about her, but it was an inescapable fact Ryan was drawn to Sophie Hanson. It was as obvious as the hard dick that refused to stop tenting his pants. None of this would stop until he had her.

“Sophie, I didn’t mean for this to happen again,” he murmured and then winced when disbelief broke over her face.

“You followed me into the elevator. You—you—well, damn it, you—” She waved a hand between them, clearly at a loss for words. “You backed me up against the wall and you kissed me.”

Her voice had risen, and Ryan continued to push her. She got out of sorts pretty easily, and he had a feeling that’s when she was the most truthful about her feelings. Did she feel anything for him? Was that really the question? Shouldn’t he be asking himself did he feel anything besides lust for her? Anything at all to make this venture into crazy worth the risk?

“You liked it.” He threw it out there for two reasons. One, he wanted to see if she’d deny it and, two, he wanted to see her hazel eyes sparkle with indignation.

She drew in a sharp breath. And Ryan got what he wanted. Anger burned off her as her eyes brightened into blue-brown-green diamonds. Would she tell the truth of it, too?

She fought it, great God almighty she fought it. But in the end, what he knew to be her inherent perspicacity won out.

She released the breath she’d drawn in and looked him dead in the eye as a small smile played about her swollen lips. “You’re right, I did.”

His heart did a little happy dance in his chest, but he blanked his face. He’d never let her see how much her words pleased him; she’d have a leg up on him if he did. He almost groaned at the remembrance of her stocking-covered leg moving against his hip moments ago.

“But this is in no way appropriate. You’re my boss. This is probably the worst thing in the history of bad things I’ve done.” She shook her head, her smile tugging down into a frown.

He reached for her and her eyes widened. Something shifted in their depths before she veiled the nameless emotion. It made him wonder just what the hell kind of bad things she’d done. He dropped his hand. No matter her concerns about their employer slash employee relationship, it in no way changed the inevitable outcome between them.

Bone-deep knowledge filtered through him. She was going to be his. In bed and out.

He turned and restarted the elevator. The doors began to open, and he picked up her briefcase to hand to her, grabbing up his own in the process.

“As your boss, I feel it only proper to warn you that this probably is a bad idea. Status quo has been upset, though, so the normal rules no longer apply.” He turned to her as the doors opened completely. “I have a feeling between you and me the rules were made to be broken anyway. I’ll pick you up at eight o’clock for supper tonight.” He turned before she could voice any dissent. He heard her gasp and left the elevator, giving Emma a nod as he started toward his office. The day was off to a fabulous start.

Chapter 7

What the hell was she doing? She’d asked herself that question from the moment Ryan had dropped his I’ll-be-at-your-house-at-eight speech in the elevator earlier. Sophie had never, ever played with fire. Watching her mother get burned time after time had eliminated Sophie’s desire to be anything more than lukewarm in relationships. Sure, she had a wonderful friendship with Gigi, but men?

Nuh-uh. She’d not found one that turned her world topsy-turvy enough to risk developing a relationship with. The way Ryan made her feel was out of her realm of experience. Beyond anything she’d felt in her life, he did things to her body and mind that were indescribable for someone of her limited experience.

The problem? She wanted more. And she wanted it with Ryan Locke. Her boss.

Damn
. That was the answer to her question.

She stroked a light blush to her cheeks and smoky makeup to her eyes. She checked her handiwork and applied a light gloss. She stepped back and looked in the full-length mirror.

She’d chosen a simple, deep-brown cashmere wraparound dress that hit her right above her knees and paired it with a hot pair of chocolate-brown boots that hugged her legs all the way up to her knees. The boots added another three inches to her height and she’d need every one of those inches to bring her some measure of confidence against the awesome Mr. Locke. Hell, she’d need every advantage, no matter how slight, against his magnetism.

She peeked at the clock, noticed she had about five minutes, and knew instinctively he’d be right on time. She switched out her purse for a smaller, cream-colored one that matched her cream-colored throw coat, and she was almost done.

The doorbell rang, and a nervous smile broke out on her face. Her heart was ready to beat out of her chest.

What the hell was she doing? Same question, same answer as before. She damn near broke an ankle getting to the door. She stopped as she came to the foyer, smoothed any creases in her dress, and raised her chin.

She could do this. She licked her lips, pasted a welcoming smile on her face, and took a deep breath as she opened the door.

It wasn’t Ryan.