“Trapeze artists are at the top of most male fantasy lists.”
“She’s not going to be on yours.” She tore the paper in half and tossed it away.
“Anyone else?” He licked around her clit, fingers thrusting deep inside her, encouraged by her sharp gasp.
“A . . . A zookeeper in San Diego. She can wrestle lions, tame tigers, speak to rhinos, and she spent two years at an animal sanctuary in South Africa.”
He moved his fingers fast, alternated between licking and talking. “Can she shoot a man in the ass at ten paces? Can she dance to Bollywood, mariachi, and musicals? Can she drink most men under the table?”
“No, but her hair is pink, she has a nose ring, and she rides a motor . . .” Her voice trailed off and her inner walls clamped around his fingers, her body going rigid in the chair as she hit her peak. Christ, he loved watching her come.
“Do you know what you get to ride?” He stood and swept his desk clear, spilling papers, pens, pencils, and his coffee cup onto the floor.
Languid in the chair, she licked her lips when he yanked open his belt. “Do I get three guesses?”
“You get one.” He shoved down his pants and boxers. “A big one.”
After he rolled on the condom from his pocket, he lifted her from the chair. Zara wrapped her legs around his waist, and he fit himself to her entrance. “Any other ladies you want to set me up with?”
She ground against him, testing his self-control. “Not at the moment.”
“I didn’t think so. How could you possibly give me away when you could have all this to yourself?”
“I don’t have a choice.” She let out a shuddering breath when he lowered her to the desk. “I have one month to bring in some new clients or my firm won’t make my position permanent. The market is down and they can’t afford to keep me. I’m beating every bush, trying to think of every angle. You have access to celebrity clients. Some of them might do their own stunts and get injured. I thought maybe you could introduce me to a few of your high-profile clients and I could spread some tiger love around.”
Jay gritted his teeth against the urge to bury himself deep inside her. “Here’s how these things work. Instead of tossing me aside like yesterday’s news or hooking me up with trapeze artists and lion tamers, you could just say, Jay, do you have any events coming up involving celebrities? I would then check our schedule and let you know. I might even call a few friends in other security firms because we’re all friendly in this business. In short, I would do anything and everything I could to help you.”
Zara grimaced. “I was in a panic.”
“So I guessed when you marched in here and demanded I hook up with some randos from your matchmaking pile.” He tried to sound annoyed, but it was impossible with Zara laid out on his desk, all wet and ready for him. “I’m here for you. However you need me. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Even if I can’t give you more than I’m giving you now?” She bit her bottom lip, watching him intently.
“I’ll take you any way I can get you,” he said. “We don’t need a label. Whatever you have to offer, just so long as you’re in my life.”
Now her eyes glistened. “You shouldn’t say things like that when I’m half-naked on your desk.”
“I can’t think of a better time to be open. I’m not the kind of man who easily shares his feelings.”
She reached for him, pulled him down for a kiss. “I feel calm when I’m with you,” she whispered against his mouth. “You quiet the voices in my head. You make me feel safe. You were the first person I wanted to call when I found out I might lose my job, but I was afraid you’d think it meant something it didn’t. I’m not relationship material and I don’t think I ever will be.”
“It would have meant you needed me and I would have liked to be needed. Promise me next time you’ll call. My help never comes with strings.”
“I promise,” she said softly. “And I’m sorry.”
He grunted his approval. “You grovel very nicely.”
She tipped her head to the side, gave him a sensual smile. “Now, do I get that ride?”
* * *
• • •
He waited until after. When they’d made use of the desk, and then the window and the wall. When the light had gone and the darkness flooded his office and the streetlights twinkled below them. When they lay naked on his couch, wrapped in a soft blanket Elias had ordered as swag when they’d attended a conference a few years back. When she was his again and not trying to set him up with rhino whisperers. When her head was on his chest and she lay languid in his arms.
“The banker who’ll hopefully be financing our international expansion has invited Elias and me to a celebrity charity event on Friday night at the City Club.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “They’ve invited quite a few big stars. I thought you might like to come.”
“Seriously?” She pushed herself up but instead of a smile he got a scowl. “You’re just telling me about this now?”
“You didn’t give me a chance earlier,” he protested in mock innocence. “You marched into my office and told me the deal was back on and then proceeded to bombard me with details about women who would never interest me because they aren’t you. I didn’t know what was going on.”
“I told you right before . . .” She cleared her throat, her gaze dropping to their clothes scattered across the floor.
“Before you rode the big one.” He gave her a self-satisfied smile. “The first time.”
Zara threw off the blanket and left him to walk across the room. He would have enjoyed watching her if she hadn’t been walking in the wrong direction.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m checking it out.” She pulled out her phone and stabbed at the screen.
Silence.
And then a scream. “Oh my God! Lin-Manuel Miranda is going to be there! Jay! Ohmygodohmygodohmygod.”
She ran toward him. Naked. It was everything he had hoped for and more. He held out his arms and she threw herself on him.
Too late, he realized he was utterly exposed.
• 21 •
Zara knew she’d made a mistake before she stepped out of the cab in front of the City Club. She should have worn the teal and blue dress with the crisscross front and the fluttery skirt. Instead, she’d put on the petal pink Chanel suit her mother had bought for her birthday a few years back. With its tiny bolero-style jacket and narrow pencil skirt, it had been uncomfortably tight on her curvy frame. Now, three years’ worth of biryani, ice cream, and samosas later, it had been almost impossible to get on.