He’d slowly clenched and unclenched alternate fists as they dangled pseudo casually by his sides. His eyes held a gleam that was more menacing than alluring, but was also distinctly laced with sexual tension and intent. I didn’t know if he wanted to tear the place apart, or drag me off caveman-style, and make up for twelve years of missed sex. At that point, I wasn’t entirely convinced he knew himself, either.
I recalled the smell of him as he’d leaned into me just a little too close to be socially acceptable. I’d inhaled almost involuntarily and let the mix of his masculine musk that I remembered and an unfamiliar but expensive-smelling cologne fill my nostrils. The recollection sent a frisson of sexual awareness zinging through my body, settling in my clit, which still hummed with arousal from our later encounter.
How had I allowed myself to be caught up—literally caught—in him and practically fuck him in the hallway? In the reception area of his company, no less. If I’d have just left the iPad—which incidentally, I still didn’t have—everything would have been fine.
Well, not fine exactly, but surely not as fucked as it was now. As the car wound through the city traffic, putting more and more physical distance between Tyler and me, I didn’t know whether to be ashamed, embarrassed or angry, so I settled for a potent combination of all three. I wanted to bitch slap myself.
I had replayed fantasies of this day in my mind so often it was embarrassing. But that was all they had been—fantasies. Tyler was out of my life forever, and all I had left was memories and my imagination.
Unbelievably, the reality was so much…more than I’d conjured up in my mind. The moment he’d told me we had unfinished business—how his tone had conveyed both a threat and promise—had been one of the hottest of my life. Even thinking about it sitting in the car next to Martin was making me wet again. What the fuck was wrong with me?
I decided that silence was the only way to survive the ride and avoid the risk of the career-threatening meltdown that was a distinct possibility if I was forced to think fully about what had just happened. As though reading my mind, and deciding the exact opposite, Martin chose that moment to probe me about the pitch.
“You’re quiet, Melissa, what are your thoughts?” That my life was already enough of a train wreck without throwing over six feet of devastatingly good looking, no longer a boy, one-hundred-percent man, confidence personified, insane-orgasm-inducing whirlwind of baggage into the mix. That I couldn’t think straight right now if you paid me. Oh wait, you actually do pay me.
I took a raggedly deep breath, and tried to channel Zen thoughts. I needed to regain some semblance of professionalism. Stat.
“It was a stimulating and quirky presentation. I thought the setting and their overall approach was inspired, but there’s a lot to unpack in terms of the specific detail of their proposal. It was certainly thought-provoking, and showed a deep understanding of the brand and target, as well as real attention to detail, passion, and creative flair. Do you mind if we reconvene tomorrow when I’ve had a chance to go through my notes, think it through in more depth, and organize my thoughts a little more coherently?” And recover from the massive orgasm I just had with a ghost from my past.
“Of course. I was just interested in your gut feelings straight out the gate. What did you think of them?”
“Them?” I tried not to sound too stunned.
“Yes, the partners,” he probed. I wondered what his angle was while simultaneously hoping that there wasn’t one.
“Well, they came across as committed, passionate, driven, and highly creative. They made quite a sight exiting the elevator, also.”
“Yes, I did notice you looking slightly taken back as they approached.” He had?
“I think I was just a little startled by their sudden, and somewhat imposing appearance. They’re a formidable presence in a room.”
That was putting it mildly. The four of them—each as ridiculously good looking, and otherwise genetically blessed as the last, but in a completely different way—are a horny woman’s ménage dreams come true. They ooze sexuality, virility, and passion—both creative and otherwise.
It wasn’t my flavor, but if it was, a gang bang with the four of them would be a thing of beauty. In any event, I’d come all over Tyler’s hand, and that was more than enough to be going on with.
Also, note to self: must work on poker face. I thought my little moment with Tyler had flown under the radar, but obviously not. Who the hell was I trying to kid? For someone who’d recovered himself well after the initial shock, and later came across as completely unflappable, slick and in control; when he first stepped out of the elevator and saw me, even Tyler had looked as if he was about to lose his lunch.
If I’d seemed even half as spooked by his presence as he had by mine—which was highly likely—nobody within a one hundred-mile radius would have missed the awkwardness of the exchange. Then there’d been the flare of attraction in his eyes, even amid all the shock and fear. I was sure again, that had been mirrored in my own, and quite obvious to everyone else witnessing it. Damn. So much water under the bridge, yet the chemistry between us was still as strong as ever. Stronger even, if my reaction in the hall had been anything to go by. How epically fucked up.
“Indeed they are. My sense is that they’d make impressive brand partners and allies, also.” Good. I was glad he was bringing the conversation back to neutral, business-related territory.
“No doubt they would. The question for me now is whether they’d be the right partners.” No, no, no, and…no! As long as Tyler Beckett is one of them, most definitely, and categorically not.
Beck
I strolled casually into Raine’s office to join the others for the usual post-pitch debrief, only to be met by three not-so-casual stares. Oh shit.
“What?” I shrugged, figuring that nonchalance right out the gate was the best defense.
Silence.
“Cat got your tongues?” I demanded. Silence from all three of them wasn’t a good sign. If they were conscious, one or other of them was always speaking, often all of them.
“Don’t ‘what?’ us, asshole. Do any of us look like we fell out the palm tree yesterday, banging our pretty little heads on the way down?” Nate gestured toward Raine and Dillon. They definitely did not look that way.
“No, of course not.”
“Then don’t try and treat us like chumps.” Nate’s nostrils flared. He was Nate was clinging to the last vestiges of his patience.
“I’m n—”
“What the fuck was that before?” Raine on the other hand, didn’t even try. Patience had never been his strong suit.
“She left her iPad. I was just trying to return it.”
“‘Trying’? How hard is it to give someone a fucking iPad? You’ve been gone twenty minutes, asshole, so don’t fucking lie to us.”
I adjusted myself in my pants—I still had the hard on-from hell, and there was no hiding it—so I just decided to brazen it out. Fuck them all.
“Okay, Colombo, you caught me red-handed. I attempted to return the iPad, but she had already left. On the way back I went to take a dump, okay? Should I have filled out a permission slip? Or did you want to come with me? Is scat your kink?”