Hot Proposition (Happy Endings, Contemporary)

Hot
Proposition

By
LB James

“
Your rule
about sleeping with a co-worker doesn't apply when you're out of
state,” Samantha Peters commented, taking a sip of her cranberry
vodka.

We sat at high
stools in the restaurant's bar area, which overlooked the dining
tables. A wall of glass offered spectacular views of Washington, DC's
famous sites. The sun had just set, the sky ranging in colors from
black to a burnt orange, the Washington Monument glowing brightly.

“
Everybody
knows crossing state lines null and voids that rule.” She eyed me
over her glass, one eyebrow raised, daring me to contradict.

“
You're my
executive assistant, not my love-life coach,” I replied.

“
You might be
my boss, but you're my friend first, and I say you need to get laid.”

It seemed,
after hours on our business trip to DC, with work done for the day,
Samantha wanted to tackle my personal life—my sex life, more
specifically. My
non-existent
sex life.

I gave her a
pointed stare as I stirred my gin and tonic with the little drink
stirrer, ice clinking in the glass. I crossed my legs and the knee
length pencil skirt slid a demure inch up my thigh. “I love how you
bend the rules to suit the situation.”

My heart rate
kicked up a notch, my blood thickened at the very mention of getting
laid. I squeezed my thighs together trying to dull the thrumming ache
that always started in my pussy when my mind shifted to Cole Porter.
The man I secretly dreamed of, longed for in the late, lonely hours
of the night. The man whose voice scraped over my senses like
tumbling rocks. Just one look at his stubble lined jaw had my
sensitive nipples tightening, imagining the rough texture against the
very tips. Whose incredible height made me feel small and feminine,
willing to submit to his every demand. Only Cole would do to assuage
the fires that built by just a glimpse.

Whenever he was
in the same room, for a meeting or quick security update, it was hard
to focus and stay on task. His blue eyes would meet mine briefly
across the room, across a conference table. I'd read something in
them that was just for me, a glimpse at the man behind the
professional facade. A glance that screamed....
more
. More than
just colleagues, more than professional associates. It read he wanted
to rip down the cool, corporate shield I wore as crisply as my
business suits and discover the hot blooded woman beneath. Each time
he pierced me with his gaze, my inner muscles tightened, pulsed for
his touch.

My usual steel
trap mind turned to the brain of a flaky teenager with just one whiff
of his woodsy cologne that circled a conference room, or my office,
entangling me in his thrall without even trying.    If
my body succumbed to him in such carnal ways by just a look, just a
hint of his scent, I could only imagine what it would be like when
his lips met mine, his hands stroked over my heated flesh, his mouth
lowered to my center. One slide of his hot tongue on my clit would
bring me to instant climax.

My lusty
imaginings aside, Cole was always completely professional. Nothing
had occurred that was the least untoward, nothing that would indicate
there was anything more to our business relationship for anyone in
the office to see. No brush of hand, no sexual innuendo, not even an
invitation for drinks. Not a blip on anyone's radar at work to
indicate that either of us wanted something more. Except Samantha.
Somehow she'd seen the signs, picked up on the electrical storm of
attraction that arced between us.

I furtively
watched the man who could fulfill my every desire across the
restaurant. Cole sat at a table with several other co-workers, having
drinks and dinner after a day-long power-pitch to a potential new
client. Negotiations followed and because the deal had closed
successfully, celebrating was in order. It appeared from the smiling
faces of my employees, they had the last well under way.

“
You've got
to bend the rules sometime,” Samantha continued. She smiled at the
bartender who delivered an appetizer and placed it between us on the
bar.

“
No, I don't.
Besides, I don't have time,” I replied, being evasive. Scooping
spinach dip onto my plate kept me from having to look her in the eye.
Dreaming after the man was one thing, but my nerves fluttered, my
palms sweat and I felt vulnerable and insecure at the very idea of
confronting Cole about anything that wasn't business related. How did
you approach a man and tell him your panties got wet every time he
turned his baby blue eyes in your direction?

I was the head
of a multimillion dollar company. I didn't flinch when a negotiation
went south or a conflict with Japanese diplomats turned political.
But Cole Porter could strip my defenses. With just one look, there
was no doubt Cole saw me not as his boss, but as a woman. No man had
done that since...ever. There had been men in my life, men who I
thought I'd loved, men who I knew I didn't love at all, men who I
just needed to warm my bed. There was only one man I wanted to warm
my bed now, or anywhere else he'd have me, and maybe even to love.
For some strange reason, my heart thought Cole was the man.

My body wanted
to make time to get Cole into my bed, take off his clothes one layer
at a time like a Christmas present, but my mind balked at every
opportunity, making rules like not getting involved with employees.
It was a great way to keep him at a distance. And everyone else in my
life.

But work
was
my life and I had a strict rule of not mixing business with
pleasure. Cole had been a consultant with the company for three
months, handling security that came along with the just approved
defense contract. Because of the high-end technical skills my company
offered, it was crucial to maintain the safety of the intellectual
property, and more importantly, my employees.

“
Don't have
time?” Samantha repeated. She seemed unbothered by what she
probably considered stalling tactics. “I know your schedule inside
and out. It would be true if we were back in LA, but we're not. You
have nothing tonight, nothing tomorrow. The deal's done. Use the
excuse of being out of town to go after him.”

I took a big
fortifying sip of my drink. I was a CEO, not an escort. I had no idea
how to lure a man to my bed. Did I say,
I want you to fuck me
or
Come with me, I'm going to rock your world?
I internally
rolled my eyes at my innate ability to be completely, certifiably
unsexy.

Samantha
waggled her eyebrows and smiled as she sipped her drink. “We
could've sat with them, you know.” She tilted her head toward the
rest of the team.

I shrugged my
shoulders nervously. “We got here late. Didn't make sense to
disturb their meal.”

“
You're the
boss! You can do whatever you want.”

I pointed my
fork at her. “Exactly. I'm the
boss.
No one wants to have
dinner with their boss.”
No one wants to have sex with their
boss.

“
I want to
have dinner with you,” Samantha replied. “You're getting off
track. We're three time zones away from home. How much further can
you get?”

Bora Bora,
perhaps?

“
Go after
him. He's tall, gorgeous, smart, fit, sexy. I bet he's an amazing
kisser.” She looked off dreamily. I looked at her funny. “What?
Just because I'm married doesn't mean I can't look. Take what I know
you want.”

I scooped some
spinach dip onto a toast tip. “Go after him? I don't know who
you're talking about,” I said, and even I heard the snippiness in
my voice.

“
Oh, please.
It's like Fourth of July fireworks between you and Cole.”

I choked on my
appetizer. After a sip of my drink, I stared at her, stunned. “How
on earth can you tell that? I have
never
done anything
unprofessional at work, and I'd like to assume neither has he. Did he
say something to you?” I mentally groaned. “Or someone else?”

Samantha placed
her hand on mine for a moment. Gave it a little pat. “Of course
not. I wasn't suggesting anything like that. Besides, he doesn't seem
like the kind of guy to kiss and tell. But come on, the way he looks
at you, wow. He seeks you out when he comes into a meeting. You can't
miss it.” She smiled, shook her head. “I know you too well not to
see your reaction to the man. Come on, he's hot—and super sexy.”
She winked.

“
You've
already said that,” I grumbled. I was uncomfortable with her
bringing my fears to light. I wanted him. But should I, no make that
could
I, go after him?

“
Just do it.
I know you want him.” She tipped her head toward the dining area
where Cole sat.

I placed my
forehead in the palm of my hand, groaned at what I hadn't been able
to hide from her. “Am I that obvious?” I replied weakly, hoping
upon hope Cole hadn't noticed, too.

With his blue
eyes, dark hair, Cole was the epitome of the term Black Irish. He
always filled out his suits to perfection, and whenever he didn't
wear a jacket, his dress shirt fit snugly across very appealing, very
hard muscles. Even now, having dinner with his co-workers, with his
tie loose and the top button of his shirt undone, I wanted him so
much my pussy all but wept for him. My panties were damp with need,
clung to my swollen folds.

I wanted to
continue to undo the buttons down the front of his shirt, exposing
his flat stomach, run my nails over his hot skin. Put my mouth on
his....

“
Of course
not.
You've got nerves of
steel.”

“
Great. I
like the idea of having nerves of steel, as you put it, for work, but
does a guy really want a woman like that? A woman who has balls in
the boardroom?”

“
Balls in the
boardroom, but a pussy in her panties.”

My mouth fell
open at her blunt words.

“
The only man
who matters is Cole. And he wants you any way he can. He's looking at
you,” she said, leaning in.

I darted a
glance to his table. Sure enough, his gaze was on me. Something
flared in his eyes, a brightness that wasn't there a moment ago,
something I'd like to think was a look just for me. He turned his
head to respond to someone sitting across from him.

The connection
was broken, but the sultry heat thickening my blood like syrup
lingered, softened me to requited desire. My nipples were hard tight
points against my lacy bra at just one glance. Did he really want me?
My body certainly wanted him. I took a sip of my drink to cool down.
To stop and remember it was not smart, no, downright stupid, to take
a man from work to bed, no matter how smoking hot he was.

***

I left Samantha
in the lobby. She to join some friends from work to hear some jazz at
a nearby club, me to tackle a mountain of work still left unfinished.
Exhaustion threatened my sixty hours a week ethic. But I had
paperwork to read through, calls to return, probably a long list of
emails that needed a reply. Who was I kidding? Sleep could come on
the long plane flight back tomorrow.

As I approached
the bank of elevators in the lobby, my mind was focused on what
client I needed to tackle first and didn't see Cole standing there
until I was right in front of him.

“
Oh,” I
gasped, frozen in place. Up close, he looked so much more virile, so
much bigger. I came up to his chin in my heels. His dark hair was
still neatly groomed, and I wondered what it would feel like having
my fingers tangled in it.

He gave me the
look I'd seen across the restaurant. Up close I noticed his eyes
widen imperceptibly, his jaw tighten. Were his fists clenched at his
sides?

There was no
way I could retreat, no matter how much I wanted to make a run for
it. Flee in any direction where he wasn't. The idea wasn't the least
bit professional. It wasn't nice, and I was being juvenile.

A ding signaled
and before I could figure out my next move, Cole took a firm grip of
my upper arm and led me into the deserted elevator. I turned around
to face the doors as everyone does. Except for Cole. When I came
around, he was right there, millimeters separated us. I looked at his
stubbly chin, his strong jaw, the dark hairs peeking out the opened V
of his shirt and loose tie.