In Love With Lucy (NSFW) (5 page)

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Authors: C.C. Wood

Tags: #Romance, #Erotica

BOOK: In Love With Lucy (NSFW)
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I forced myself out of my own head, diverting my attention back to what was happening around me.

The hostess smiled sweetly at Chris. “Mr. Barden, how lovely to see you this evening.”

“Table for two, please.”

She gathered menus and silverware and gestured for us to follow her. I shot Chris a look when his hand rested on my lower back to guide me after her. He’d touched me more in the last three days than he had in the entire time I worked for him. He ignored my killing glance and pulled out my chair when we reached our table.

“Thank you,” I murmured. I hated that he was being so polite when I really wanted to snarl at him.

He took his own seat and the hostess handed us our menus.

“Your server will be right with you.”

Chris nodded to the hostess before she moved off. I took a moment to fully appreciate the ambiance of the restaurant. It was dim, lit only with candles and a few recessed lights. Each table was adorned with pale golden tablecloths, a tiny bouquet of fresh flowers, and sparkling water goblets. Overall, the impression was cozy and romantic. It also made my skin itch.

“Lucy.”

Chris’ voice was soft when he spoke my name. I shivered with apprehension as something exhilarating ran down my spine along. I still had no idea what happened to suddenly make me so sexually aware of my boss. Over the course of a weekend, my attitude went from all business to
give me the business
. It was unnerving and I couldn’t seem to get past it.

Determined to remain indifferent, I met Chris’ eyes. Then it hit me hard. I hadn’t changed. He had. The way he looked at me, the way he spoke to me, it wasn’t the same. Prior to Friday night, I was Ms. Lucy Daniels, administrative assistant extraordinaire, barely distinguishable from any other employee. Now, I was Lucy, a woman he was attracted to. A woman he wanted to take to bed. At least, that was the impression I was getting by the glint in his eye and his body language, and, as a photographer, I understood body language. At that moment, Chris was leaning slightly toward me, the tips of his fingers toying with mine. His chin tilted a bit and his pupils dilated slightly. He was clearly displaying his attraction to me. He never looked away, even when an incredibly gorgeous Indian woman approached our table, filled our water glasses and asked us if we were ready to order.

I realized I was staring at Chris like an idiot and slid my hand away from his, reaching for my menu. I blinked, shifting my eyes to the waitress.

“Hi,” I said with a smile, “can we have just a few more minutes?”

She smiled back and nodded, her eyes darting over to Chris. I couldn’t blame her for the quick ogle. Even though he annoyed me, he was truly a beautiful man, especially in nothing but a white shirt, unbuttoned at the throat, and black pinstripe slacks. He looked like a walking Armani ad.

I examined my menu carefully, refusing to look him in the eye again. “So what do you recommend?” I asked casually.

He didn’t respond, so I chanced a glance at him over the top of the menu. He was leaning his elbows on the table, watching me steadily over his steepled fingertips. Again, my treacherous hormones began to quiver. This time I didn’t look away, I met his gaze head on and kept my face free of all emotion except for a vaguely pleasant expression.

Chris sighed and picked up his own menu. “Everything here is good.”

I cleared my throat, deciding then and there to order the most expensive dish on the menu, plus dessert. This would be my going away dinner. After the weird vibes I’d been getting from him on Friday and today, no way was I going back to work tomorrow.

We sat in silence for a few moments until the waitress returned to take our order. I requested a lamb dish that sounded delicious, and Chris ordered a vegetarian curry, which surprised me.

“Is the curry good?” I asked.

Chris smiled at me. “Extremely. I usually order the same entree as you or this. Sometimes both if I’ve skipped lunch.”

I gave him a small smile in response. “Well, I’m sure I won’t eat all of mine. I’d be happy to share.”

I wanted to smack myself in the forehead for my stupidity. Dammit, I was too freaking nice. That offer had returned the intense expression to Chris’ face, as if I’d suggested more than sharing a portion of my food with him. I sipped my water, desperately wracking my brain for something to say.

Fortunately, and unfortunately, he spoke first. “I meant to tell you Friday…your showing was quite impressive. You have an excellent eye for aesthetically pleasing asymmetry, balance, and contrast. Especially the photos of the little girl. You managed to capture her youth and vibrant personality without making her seem posed.”

I felt myself flush at his praise. While Chris wasn’t effusive, he would often tell me when I did a good job. This was more than that and it made me a little uncomfortable.

I fiddled with my napkin in my lap. “Thank you. She’s the daughter of a friend.”

His gaze intensified. “Your boyfriend?”

I had just taken a sip of my water when he asked, which caused me to choke. Coughing uncontrollably, I dabbed my mouth with my napkin. Once the fit subsided, I gave him a wide-eyed look. “No. I’m not seeing anyone.”

When his jaw relaxed, I realized that I had missed a golden opportunity. I should have just said that she was my boyfriend’s daughter and that things were looking serious. Then maybe he would stop giving me those damn piercing looks that gave me the impression he was imagining me naked.

Our food came out then, more quickly than I expected, though I was extremely grateful. If I was eating, I couldn’t stick my foot in my mouth any longer. Faced with a predatory Chris Barden, I was floundering wildly. I ate as quickly as good manners would allow, managing to fake my way through more small talk, asking him about his meeting in Fort Worth.

Though it seemed like an eternity, we finished our meal and the waitress brought the check. I reached into my purse to get my wallet.

“No, Lucy. My treat.” He shook his head at me.

I shrugged, thinking he intended to claim this as an expense, until I saw the card he laid on the table. It wasn’t the company card. It was his personal check card, and he never used it for business dinners.

I felt my lips thin. “Let me pay for my dinner, Chris,” I said.

His bright blue eyes cut to me and he gave a single shake of his head.

My brows lowered. “If this isn’t a business dinner, then I insist.”

As though she could sense the storm brewing between us, the waitress moved past me at lightning speed, sweeping up Chris’ check card as she went, before scurrying off through the swinging door into the kitchen.

I opened my wallet and saw that I had a twenty. Without speaking, I stood, threw the bill on the table, and grabbed my jacket before stomping out of the restaurant. God, that man was a stubborn ass. My self-righteous anger carried me all the way out to the parking lot before I realized that I either had to wait for Chris to get a ride back to my car or I had to call a cab, and I’d just spent the last of my cash.

Cursing the fact that I’d let my temper get the better of me, thus foiling my chance to escape, I walked to Chris’ Mercedes. The night was chilly, so I shrugged on my jacket, buttoning it to the throat, and leaned against the side of the car so that I was no longer in the wind.

A few moments later, I saw him prowl around the corner, a fierce scowl on his face, and his overcoat flapping behind him in the wind. He looked like a film noir character, or maybe a tortured hero in a comic book. I wanted to roll my eyes at my own fanciful thoughts, but didn’t dare take them off my boss. I watched as he came closer and closer until I realized that he was directing his feet not toward his car, but straight for me.

Before I could scoot out of the way, he loomed over me, reaching a hand over my left shoulder to rest it on the hood of the SUV and gripping the door handle to my right with his other. He was essentially caging me in and I didn’t like it one little bit.

“What is your problem?” he asked, his voice angry and deep.

I tossed my ponytail over my shoulder and straightened my spine. “You.”

He looked surprised for a moment. “Me?”

I nodded sharply.

“Why?”

“You didn’t use the company card to pay for dinner, but your personal check card, as though this was a date.” He started to interrupt, but I held up a hand imperiously and he fell silent. “You manhandled me into your car even though I told you I only wanted to go home, and, on Friday, you acted more like a possessive, jealous boyfriend than my boss. Any one of those things alone would irritate me, but all three together have…Pissed. Me. Off.” With each of the last three words, I rose higher on my toes so that my face was only a few inches from his.

Then he was crushing me against the side of the car, his mouth slanted over mine, forceful and angry, his tongue pushing past my lips. I couldn’t resist that kind of onslaught. He was kissing me like a Viking marauder, plundering, taking anything and everything he wanted. When my teeth nipped his bottom lip, Chris groaned and wrapped my long ponytail around his hand, using it to tilt my head back further. Our tongues tangled and I shoved both hands into his short hair, scratching at his scalp with my short nails.

His hips pressed into mine, pinning me between the cold metal of the SUV and his incredibly hot, hard body. I moaned against his mouth when I felt the ridge of his erection grind against my lower abdomen. Chris pulled me away from the car slightly, keeping his hold on my ponytail with one hand while the other reached down to cup my ass, lifting me onto my toes so that his hard length rubbed against the front of my sex.

Somewhere down the street, a car honked long and loud, jerking me out of the lust-fueled fog he created with his kiss. I shoved at his chest, hard, knocking him back a step. He still had his hand in my hair so we both stumbled slightly.

I lifted a shaking hand to my mouth and stared at him in disbelief. “Shit on a cracker, this can’t be good.”

Chapter Five

T
he next morning,
I rolled over onto my back and stared at the dark ceiling. It was five-thirty, a half hour before I normally got out of bed. I’d barely slept all night. I wiggled deeper into the mattress, hoping I could catch a thirty minute catnap before my alarm went off.

Just as I closed my eyes, the memory of Chris trapping me against the car and laying the most exciting kiss of my life on me resurfaced. My eyes popped open and I heaved a huge sigh. I’d been reliving those moments all night long. I realized it trying to sleep was a lost cause, rolled over to turn off my alarm clock, and dragged my tired ass out of bed. Since I couldn’t sleep, I might as well get up and drink an enormous cup of coffee.

An hour later,
I had managed to shower, dry my hair, and I was in the middle of applying my make-up, while another steaming cup of coffee stood next to me on the bathroom counter. Though I normally didn’t leave for work until 8 a.m., I decided to take advantage of my early morning and finish getting ready quickly so I could drop by Einstein’s for a bagel.

Just as I finished adding the last coat of mascara on my lashes, someone knocked on my front door. Damn, I hoped it wasn’t the greasy, skeevy building supervisor. That guy gave me the willies and I was not in the mood to be eye fucked this early in the morning while wearing only my robe.

I approached the door as stealthily as possible and put my eye to the peephole. I scowled when I saw the broad-shouldered form of my boss standing the hall. I unlocked the door and yanked it open.

“What are you doing here?”

Chris didn’t wait for an invitation to come inside, he merely brushed by me, took off his coat, and hung it on the coat rack.

“Listen, Chris, you can’t just show up here unannounced and shove your way inside. I’ll see you in the office at nine.” I grabbed his coat and tossed it back to him. I opened the door wider with my other hand. “Scram.”

He caught the expensive wool in midair and put it back on the rack. “I tried calling but you didn’t answer your phone.”

I sighed. “I was probably in the shower or drying my hair and didn’t hear it.”

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