Читать книгу Engaged With The Boss - Elle James - Страница 9

Devin jumped to his feet when the doorbell rang, grumbling all the way to the entrance, regretting his decision not to buy a condo with a security guard at the front desk. “Who the hell comes by this late at night?”

He yanked the door open, ready to rip into the salesman on the other side and brought himself up short.

Jolie smiled and held up a bag that smelled of soy sauce and spices. “Hungry?”

“What the hell are you doing here so late? I would think that at least one of us would have a life.”

She snorted and followed him into the living room. “Like I could have a life. With you calling or texting me every hour of the day and night. Any man I’ve ever tried to date never understood.”

Devin frowned. “You date?”

She thunked the bag of food on the counter in his kitchen and shot a twisted grin his way. “I would if I had a day off.”

“What are you doing here?” And why did she look so damned good? Something was different about Jolie, but Devin was too wound up to put his finger on it.

“I brought Natalie’s marketing plan by. You wanted it by end of day. It’s end of day, in case you hadn’t noticed, and here it is.” She pulled the document from her voluminous purse and laid it next to the bag of Chinese food containers.

Devin’s frown deepened. “Why didn’t she bring it herself?”

“She had other plans and your condo is on my way home.”

“That’s right, you had dinner together.”

“We did.”

Devin crossed his arms over his chest. The thought of his sister going home alone bothered him. “I don’t like it that she’s out and about after dark.”

“She’s twenty-six. Old enough to know how to take care of herself.”

“She’s my kid sister.”

“The key word is sister.” Jolie scooped food from the containers onto a clean plate. “You aren’t her parent and she’s a big girl, not a kid. Give her a break.”

“I can’t. This whole murder investigation is eating me alive.”

“Then get a bodyguard for her and quit worrying.” Jolie stared across at him. “She’s had a man following her the past few days. It wouldn’t hurt to have someone to watch her back. Now, here.” She handed him a plate of Kung Pao Chicken and steered him toward the couch. “Sit. Eat. If you still feel like it when your stomach is full, then you can resume your worrying.”

He let her push him toward the living room, her fingers warm on his back. He liked the touch a little too much and growled menacingly, feeling as though his attraction to her was a sign of his exhaustion. He’d be better off escorting her to the door as soon as possible before things got complicated. “I don’t need you telling me what to do. Just so you know, I’d already decided on a bodyguard.”

Jolie grounded her hands on her hips, her stance wide, fearlessly ready to take him on. “When was the last time you ate?” she demanded.

“Lunch.”

She snorted. “You skipped lunch to meet with the board of directors.”

He didn’t like it when she was right, but the color in her cheeks had heightened, a sure sign she was riled. He did like it when Jolie got riled. The unflappable executive assistant was entirely too tightly bound.

What were they arguing about? Oh, yeah. “We had lunch at the meeting.”

“You spoke all the way through the meeting. Bottled water doesn’t count.” With her shoulders flung back, her head held high and the cut of her blouse dipping low over her breasts, she looked more lively than he could remember. And there was something vastly different about her tonight.

Suddenly feeling the need to rub his executive assistant the wrong way, Devin set the plate in front of him. “I’ll eat when I’m hungry.”

“When will that be?” She perched on the edge of the coffee table, lifted a forkful of food and held it out. “I’m under orders to stay until you’ve eaten. So do me a favor and eat this so I can go home.”

He opened his mouth to argue and she shoved the fork in.

His eyes widened and then narrowed. He chewed thoughtfully, emitting a soft moan. “Mmm. This is good.”

That she was perched on his coffee table, leaning forward in a soft ribbed-knit shirt that showed the rounded curve of her breasts didn’t make it easy to swallow. Somehow he managed.

He frowned. “You look different.”

“I’m the same old Jolie who’s been working with you for the past six years. How different could I look?” She leveled another forkful of food and raised her eyebrows. “Are you going to feed yourself or am I going to have to?”

He opened his mouth and let her place the fork between his teeth. She always got his blood flowing and made him feel alive, even when he was half-dead with worry and lack of sleep. “How do you do that?”

“Feed you?” She scooped up another forkful of food. “It’s easy, just like feeding a baby.”

He grabbed her hand, spilling rice onto his lap.

Her eyes widened, her green irises flashing a startling contrast to her pale skin.

“No. I can feed myself.” He pulled her closer until her bottom came up off the table and she teetered forward. “How do you go from being my plain executive assistant to this?” He touched her hair, the soft waves curling around his finger. “Ah. It’s the hair.”

She stared into his eyes, her bottom lip caught between her teeth, her breasts inching dangerously closer to his hand with each breath she took.

If Devin was a gambling man, he’d bet she was as attracted to him as he was to her at that moment.

Holy crap, why hadn’t he seen this before? Why had it taken him so long to really look at her?

Jolie Carson had worked for him for six years and this was the first time he’d seen her with her hair down around her shoulders. It totally changed her appearance from the cool, efficient executive assistant, moving determinedly in the background of his life. She’d morphed from the one-person dynamo he relied on so much at work to a softer, more personable and more … hmm … vulnerable woman he’d swear he’d never met.

And yet he had.

She tugged against the hand holding her wrist, her gaze dropping to his lap. “I’m sorry. I seem to have spilled rice on you.” Her hand reached for the food, brushing against his crotch.

The nearness to his arousal made him suck in a breath, his body on alert, his member jerking to attention.

Jolie wrenched her hand back, her pale cheeks flaming. “I didn’t mean to touch you there … I mean, I’m sorry … well, hell. If I could be more of a clown, I’d be in a circus.” She laughed and backed away so quickly her legs bumped against the coffee table, throwing her off balance.

Devin caught a flailing arm and yanked her forward, her teetering momentum sending her falling toward him, landing hard on his lap.

She scrambled to get up, but Devin’s arm hooked around her waist, holding her still. “Relax. I won’t bite … unless you want me to.” He chuckled, his chest rubbing against her back. A citrusy scent wrapped around his senses. “You smell good.” He leaned into her, his nose tickled by the soft red curls. “Why is that?”

“It’s my shampoo.” She wiggled against him, her bottom grinding into his rising arousal. “I’m fine, really. You can let me up.” She sat in his lap, her body rigid, her brows knitted. “Mr. Kendall. I believe you’ve gone from exhausted to delirious. Let me up.”

“So it’s Mr. Kendall now, is it?” He knew he should let her go, but her body was so soft against his, all the curves, the scent. The way she moved made him relaxed and excited all at once. Most importantly, it made him forget his troubles if for only a moment.

He could imagine how it would feel to have her long, naked legs wrapped around his middle as he drove into her. Heat filled his groin, pooling low and strong. He wanted her in a way that had nothing to do with PDAs or memos. The CEO in him shut down; the man roared to life.

“Why did you come over tonight?” He leaned into her neck, the temptation to taste more than he could resist. He nibbled the tender skin just below her earlobe.

Her back arched against him, her head dropping back until it rested against his shoulder. “I thought you might be hungry.”

“I’m hungry, all right.” He nibbled again, nipping at the pulse pounding away at the base of her throat. “But not for food.”

He turned her in his arms and cupped her cheeks with his palms. “Where have you been hiding?”

She stared into his eyes, her green ones darkening. “I’ve been here all along.” Her gaze dropped to his lips and her tongue darted out, sliding across her own lips.

Mesmerized by that little pink tongue, Devin couldn’t deny tasting it for himself. He pulled her close, capturing her mouth beneath his, his tongue sweeping over the line of her lips until they opened.

He thrust in, conquering her mouth, slanting and sliding in and out, his movements feverish, agitated as if he couldn’t get close enough. The barrier of their clothing frustrated him.

His hands found the hem of her shirt and pulled it up and over her head, tossing it to a far corner.

The lacy white bra beneath held her firm breasts high, the rounded swells enticing him past redemption. He twisted, laying her out on the couch beneath him, his mouth traveling the length of her throat, down over her collarbone to the lovely breasts, rising and falling rapidly to the rhythm of her ragged breathing.

“Devin,” she gasped as his mouth closed over a nipple trapped beneath the lace of her bra. “Do you know what you’re doing?”

“I would think it obvious.”

“You aren’t delirious from lack of sleep?” she asked.

“I’m deliriously drunk from you.”

“Are you sure this is what you want to do?”

“Never more certain.” He reached behind her, flicked the catch to her bra and slid the straps down over her shoulders, her breasts spilling free into his hands. They were pale like porcelain, tipped with strawberry-colored nipples, puckered into tight nubs, ready for plucking.

His mouth descended on one lush, ripe tip, drawing it between his teeth where he rolled it gently, nipping and licking.

A moan rose in her throat and her back arched off the couch, pressing her breast more firmly into his mouth.

All the tension, the worry, the latent frustration bubbled up inside him, driving a sense of urgency to get naked with Jolie, to take her, to ram into her over and over again until his lust was slaked, his desires sated and his energy consumed.

Pale, slim fingers reached out to flick open the buttons of his shirt, fumbling to push aside the fabric, exposing the skin beneath. He brushed her fingers aside and ripped the shirt off, buttons popping loose, pinging off the coffee table and wood flooring.

Her laughter warmed the air, her smile lighting the room. “I could have unbuttoned that and saved you a tailoring bill.”

“Damn the buttons,” he growled. He leaned on one arm, working the rivet on her short denim skirt. When he had no luck pushing it through the hole, he shoved the skirt up over her hips and ripped her panties down to her ankles.

“Hey, big guy. You may have a tailor on retainer. I don’t.”

“I’ll buy you new ones.” He jerked the fabric, the delicate lace ripping into shreds.

JOLIE LAY AGAINST THE SOFT leather couch, her breathing coming in ragged gulps, her body on fire, her skin deliciously sensitized to the cool air and warm fingers splayed out over her belly.

For six years she’d secretly imagined being naked with her boss. Fantasized about making love to him, his hands smoothing down over her body, his words of adoration and passion igniting her senses.

The reality was so much different than the dream. So much more vibrant, raw and exciting. She pulled at the belt around his middle, slipped the button loose on his suit trousers and slid the zipper down.

He sprang free, his erection long, thick and hot in her palm.

Her fingers curled around him and she stroked him, reveling in the sexy length of steel encased in velvet.

His body stiffened and he withdrew from her hands. “Not yet.”

She transferred her fingers to his torso, sliding up his chest as he moved down over her body, his lips blazing a path from her breasts, skipping over the wadded skirt to her navel and lower still.

Devin’s fingers found the patch of curls at the juncture of her thighs, parting the folds hiding beneath. When he touched her there, she gasped, her bottom rising up to meet his caress, her nerves on fire, her blood burning through every vein.

He flicked a finger over that sensitive nub, diving lower to delve into the warm moisture of her core.

“Oh, yes,” she whispered. This was so much better than any fantasy. So much more intense. All logic fled, the cool, collected executive assistant she’d been for six years dissolved into the seething inferno of molten heat. Her hand cupped his, pressing him deeper.

He stroked in and out, dragging her juices up to the center of her pleasure, gently teasing her to the very edge of sanity, pushing her past any defenses she’d so carefully erected between boss and employee.

She couldn’t remember her name, much less why this wasn’t a good idea. All Jolie could do was live for the next moment, the next touch of his fingers, his lips, the broad length of his erection.

Intense sensations built to a crescendo, spilling from her core to flood throughout her body. She jerked, writhed and called his name aloud as she clung to his arms, her fingers digging into his skin.

Still riding the wave of lust, she wanted him inside her, to fill her, complete her. With desperate hands, she dragged him closer.

He nudged her legs apart and slid between them.

Jolie cupped his staff and guided him to her opening, slick with her juices.

With the tip of his shaft pressing into her, he paused. “We can’t.”

Jolie whimpered, too entrenched in passion to understand what he was saying. “What?”

“Not without protection.”

“Oh.” Her fingers shook against his chest. “Do you have some?” She didn’t, and her body didn’t give a damn about it at this point. Every nerve ending screamed for him to ram into her, damn the consequences.

He lurched to his feet, let his trousers slide the rest of the way to the ground. Finally naked.

Jolie’s mouth went dry. Every fantasy she’d had of him naked didn’t come close to the stunning reality.

He was a Greek god, his body tanned, toned and rippling with muscles.

With her skirt bunched around her middle, her legs open and her hair in wild disarray around her head, self-doubt flooded her. How could a man who looked like that even consider making love to a toadstool like her?

She sat up, drawing her legs together, pushing her skirt down over her crotch. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten so carried away.” Jolie pushed to her feet, her arms crossing over her bare breasts, her gaze avoiding his, as she attempted to locate her missing bra.

His hands descended on her shoulders, forcing her to look up at him. “Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet now.” He sucked in a deep breath, closing his eyes. “You’re so beautiful that I’m about to explode.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you.” His fingers slid down over her arms and his hand guided her hand to his member. “I didn’t get this way just because. You’re my inspiration.”

“I am?” For a well-spoken executive assistant, she sounded like a complete idiot. Jolie didn’t care. The words he spoke warmed her inside and out.

His eyebrows drew together. “But if you want me to stop, I will.” He ran his free hand through his hair and dragged in another deep breath. “I don’t know how, but I will. Just say the word.”

She stared up into his eyes, her normal emerald-green gaze as dark as a primeval forest. Then her fingers tightened around his girth and she stepped closer. “Don’t stop now.”

He let out a sharp stream of air, bent and scooped her into his arms.

Caught off guard, she squealed, loving the feel of his naked body against her skin. He strode across the wide expanse of his living room and through a door into a spacious bedroom. Centered against one wall stood a king-size bed. Without pausing, he closed the distance between the door and the bed in five long strides. There he set her on her feet and he reached into the nightstand, removing a strip of foil packages.

His gaze turned feral, his mouth tilting upward at the corners. “I hope I have enough.”

Jolie laughed shakily as she unbuttoned her skirt, her fingers twisting in the fabric, suddenly shy about standing in front of him with nothing on. She was so darned plain and pale, not tanned and beautiful like the rich crowd he hung around with.

His gaze captured hers and he tossed the condoms to the bed. “Lose it.”

“Pardon?” She glanced up at him, her breath caught in her throat.

“The skirt.” He gripped the waistband, his blue eyes darkening to smoky gray. “On second thought, let me.”

Jolie lifted her hands out of the way as Devin slid the skirt down over her hips, dropping to his knees in front of her. He guided her backward until the backs of her legs touched the bed and she sat.

Still on his knees, Devin moved in between her thighs and draped them over his shoulder.

Incapable of breathing, Jolie’s eyes widened and she watched as he trailed kisses along the tender insides of her thighs. When his mouth reached her center, his tongue thrust inside her.

She gasped and fell back against the duvet, a barrage of electrical shocks originating from where he touched her and shooting to every cell in her body.

He licked his way up to the sensitive nub, sucking it into his mouth and pulling gently. Large, warm fingers slid inside her, first two, then three.

Jolie writhed and twisted against the mattress, her own fingers digging into his hair, dragging him closer.

As far as she was concerned, she’d died and floated to heaven, the rise to the top a sharp climb. When she pitched over the edge, she drifted away into an abyss of pleasure so intense the rest of the world no longer existed.

Devin rose to his feet, wrapped her legs around his waist and thrust into her. With his hands holding her hips, he settled into a breath-catching rhythm, riding her until his body stiffened. He threw back his head and roared her name.

Jolie couldn’t remember a man ever roaring her name aloud while making love. The experience was phenomenal and extremely erotic.

As they both returned to earth, Jolie scooted back on the bed until her head rested against the pillows.

Devin slid in beside her, his hand cupping a breast. Within minutes he slipped into a deep sleep.

Her body still quaking with energy, Jolie couldn’t relax. If Devin was awake, she’d demand a repeat performance. But the poor man hadn’t slept in days. She couldn’t bear to wake him just for a little more of the most explosively satisfying sex she’d ever had.

As Jolie lay in the shadows, she studied Devin’s face, tranquil in slumber. In some ways he looked like a little lost boy; in other ways, he could never be mistaken for little or lost, or a boy for that matter.

For six long years, Jolie had dreamed of just such a night with the boss. Now that she’d lived the dream what was she supposed to do? Lie there until morning and suffer the embarrassment of the morning-after? What if he regretted making love to her? What if this brief, powerful interlude ruined their working relationship?

As she lay there with Devin’s hand warm against her breast, every scenario she could imagine pinged around her brain. Each outcome was worse than the last.

Before long, she’d talked herself into a mild panic attack, one thing forging through her tumbled thoughts. She had to get out of his condo. The sooner the better.

With a long look at the man she’d loved since the first day she came to work for him, Jolie slid from the bed and gathered her things. She slung her clothing on in the living room of the warehouse condo, not taking the time to button and zip her jean skirt. Her panties were ruined, so she’d have to go commando until she reached her apartment.

Mostly dressed and eager to leave without waking Devin, Jolie slipped out the door a little after midnight.

At the bottom of the staircase leading up to his condo, she turned toward the parking lot, pausing briefly to zip and button her skirt.

A bright light flashed in her eyes and she squealed, throwing up her hands to shield her face from further attack.

“Thanks, lady!” A man carrying a mammoth camera ran across the road and jumped into a car parked illegally against the curb. Before Jolie’s night vision recovered, he was gone.

Her heart plummeting into her belly, she hurried toward her car. “Damned paparazzi.”

Tomorrow there would be hell to pay.