Conflict of Interest (6 page)

“You own a tux.” She didn’t yank her hand away. It took a moment before she moved it to make more notes. “If you show up in blue polyester, I’m quitting.”

He was surprised she hadn’t walked out the door that morning, and he was taking it as a good sign. “It’s black. I’m not a formal-affair virgin.”

Her flush grew, but she didn’t rise to the bait. “Right. What else?”

He didn’t want to be having this conversation. Time for a new one. “Why did you do it?” He left the question intentionally vague. He rested his elbows on his knees, still studying her.

She tore her attention from her phone, staring back in confusion. “Do…?”

“Saturday. I see you in there almost every weekend, always alone, and I assume you’ve seen me too since you knew which car was mine. What made you approach me this one time?”

The pink flushing her cheeks darkened, but she didn’t look away. “Not that I know what you’re talking about, but if I did, it was only because I needed a place to sit.”

Ouch, that stung. “Right, that wasn’t you because of conflict of interest. So this other woman, who you’re intimately acquainted with and I’d like to be, didn’t just pick an empty slice of wall to lean against like she normally does because…”

Her lips drew into a thin line. “This conversation is counterproductive.”

It was completely productive if it distracted her from telling him how to dress—and maybe helped him figure out how to get her undressed. “I disagree.”

“Which is why you hired me instead of doing your own publicity.”

He wouldn’t be deterred, but he also knew better than to tell her that wasn’t exactly why he’d hired her. “You—sorry, she—was just looking for a little conversation that morning?”

Her eyes narrowed and she blew a strand of hair off her forehead. “Will you drop this if I tell you?”

Headway, perfect. “Maybe. If I think you’re telling the truth and not just making something up to get rid of me.”

She clenched her teeth, hesitating.

He didn’t interrupt.

“Fine.” She exhaled. “I had something to prove.”

That was interesting. “To whom?”

She paused again. “Myself.”

She wasn’t telling him everything. Interesting. “Did it work?”

Her brow furrowed, and she chewed her bottom lip.

He wanted to be doing that.

She twirled a strand of hair around her finger. “It might have worked better if … no, you know what? It worked fantastically. I found out what I needed to know. Yup, it’s all good. What else is on your calendar in the next few weeks?”

The way she had set her phone aside and leaned forward, bringing her face closer to his, told him she wasn’t shutting him out. He was close to something. “Soon, I promise. I’m still curious about this proving something to yourself idea. What, exactly?”

Her breath hitched, and she licked her lips, eyes pulling away from his. “You said you’d drop it.”

“There were conditions.” He dropped onto the blanket, sitting cross-legged across from her, keeping less than an inch between her knees and his. “But I won’t push it if you don’t want to talk about it. My schedule, then?”

She still wouldn’t look at him, and the corner of her mouth twitched with something he couldn’t identify. Her voice was soft when she finally replied. “I had an argument with my sister that morning. She called me a lot of names, I probably called her some back, and you seemed like a good way to prove her wrong.”

He leaned forward, intrigued. “It’s not often a woman admits to using me.” It wasn’t an unfamiliar concept, they just usually didn’t outright tell him that’s what they were doing.

She ducked her head. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He traced a finger over her knee, her heat seeping through the texture of her stockings. “Do I get more details than that?”

She finally looked at him, indecision dancing behind her eyes. A smile pushed away some of her embarrassment. “I suppose I owe you that much. Funny, given the things we talked about that day, how this one little admission embarrasses me.”

He abandoned thoughts of trying to work. The casual flow of the conversation had his blood racing. He let his gaze linger on her moist lips, sharp memories of how she tasted taunting him.

“She called me frigid,” Kenzie finally blurted out. “I’d seen you in there so many times before and yeah, okay, you’re attractive, I admit it. So I struck up a conversation with you to prove I wasn’t uptight.”

He was used to people complimenting if they wanted a favor, but something about the fact the words had come from her settled deep inside, warming him more than the sun creeping through the roofless rafters overhead.

He’d already asked once, but wanted to see if she’d be more forthcoming. “Did it work? Did you prove it?”

She traced a finger along her collar, drawing his eyes down as she played with her top shirt button. He shifted his position when his cock throbbed in response, and his imagination taunted him with images of her undoing each button slowly while he watched.

She swallowed. “Not as thoroughly as I would have liked.”

His arousal screamed in response to the teasing. The possible opportunity to finish what they’d started. He forced his voice to remain steady. “So I know I’m just some boring executive and not the mysterious guy with the love van you thought I was, but I’m available if you’re still interested.”

She shook her head and leaned back on both hands, shoulders stretched back and full breasts jutting toward him. Amusement and uncertainty warred for her expression. “You’re not paying me to sleep with you.”

Ouch. Dangerous territory. “It’s true. But I’m also paying you a fixed fee, not hourly. So if I decided we were done for the day, any free time you had would be yours to do what or whomever you pleased.”

She extended her legs in front of her, crossing them at the ankles. “It’s not professional.”

He loved this banter with her. The way she let him poke and prod at the conversation. “It’s not supposed to be. You’re proving you’re not uptight.”

She sat back up, pulling her legs in and tucking them to the side, hair falling around her face. “It’s a conflict of interest.”

Every time he thought she was going to tell him no—slap him and put a stop to the entire thing—she set out another tease. Was she doing it intentionally? He had to prod a little more. The heaving chest taunting him was too tempting. “Not necessarily. Not if it’s purely physical, right? No emotional attachment. I promise it won’t get in the way of work, you promise the same, and then we’re just two people playing outside of business hours, right?”

She shifted on the blanket, pushing to her knees and crawling closer until her nose was inches from his. “You’re really good at this negotiation stuff.”

He usually sucked at it. He was too straightforward for most people. He said what he wanted; they either said no or yes. “Honestly? You’re just really tempting motivation. Work’s done for the day. Are you interested in something extra-curricular?”

She trailed her fingers down his arm, nails brushing his knuckles. He bit back a groan at the light touch. Her voice was soft, but her eyes never left his when she said, “Definitely.”

He flipped his hand, loosely grasping her wrist and eliciting a gasp. Her skin was hot against his. He raised her fingers to his mouth, kissing each fingertip before moving to her palm and then her inner wrist. The faint flower of her perfume made his head swim, and her pulse against his lips was intoxicating.

His gaze met hers, and she gave him a shy smile. “Shouldn’t we go somewhere more private?”

He continued to kiss along her palm, replying between each peck. “If you’d prefer. But there’s no one around, so I don’t know if ‘more private’ exists.”

Kenzie shook her head and gave a small laugh. “You’ve got a point.”

Scott raised an eyebrow and gave her a crooked smile. “Too easy.” He might have been tempted to counter the obvious innuendo, but exploring more of the woman in front of him was far more appealing. He let go of her hand and shifted his weight to his knees. Crawling forward, he stopped when his nose was just inches from hers.

She sighed and tilted toward him. “But I’m not. That’s what this is about.”

He dipped his head toward her neck, mouth hovering millimeters from her skin but never touching it as he slid his lips up. His voice was low. “No, it’s not.”

She sighed and arched her back, pressing closer to the feather-light tease. “What’s it about, then?” she asked breathily.

His blood pressure screamed in response to the sensual movement, cock straining against his jeans. He brushed the outside edge of her ear, and she whimpered. Geez, that noise was enough to screw with a guy’s head. He whispered, “It’s about us, and how intensely I’d like to ravish you.”

Her light laugh faded into a moan when he traced his tongue up the curve of her neck. She rested her arms on the ground to support her weight and stretched her legs out next to his. “You really have a way with words.”

“I have a way with other things too.” He grazed his teeth over her earlobe, her jaw, her lower lip, before finally pressing his lips to hers. He growled against her mouth when she returned the kiss, hungry. It was even more intense than he remembered, and very not uptight. Her tongue danced around his, searching, massaging.

He rested a hand at the base of her neck. Her skin was soft against his palm, filling his thoughts with images of what the rest of her felt like. Lust and desire obliterated any other thoughts. She pressed forward, warm chest molding against his, breasts rubbing through their shirts. Some of that clothing needed to go soon.

She traced her nails over his collarbone before resting her hand on his jaw. She gasped when they broke apart, running her tongue over her bottom lip, studying him with a need he knew reflected his own.

“If you’re bragging, I’m going to need proof.” Her cheeks tinged with the timid taunt, and she ducked her head.

Damn it this was fun. He tangled his fingers in her hair and tugged her head back so he could look her in the eye. His voice was thick with want. “Happy to oblige.”

He traced his mouth down her throat, her whimpers vibrating against his lips. She dropped her hand to his waist and pushed up the bottom of his T-shirt. He inhaled sharply at the skin-on-skin contact. Resting his other hand at the small of her back, he lowered her to the ground.

His fingers drew lines along her collarbone before dipping lower along the hint of cleavage taunting him. When she gasped and arched her back again, it spurred him on. He undid her top two buttons. White lace stretched against full breasts, and his body responded. He wouldn’t have guessed it was possible for him to get any harder, and he would have been wrong.

She tugged his shirt, and he broke away from her long enough to let her pull it over his head. The warm morning air hit his back, and her smooth palms traced over his chest. The delicate touch was so different from what he was used to—an enticing combination of hesitation and confidence instead of assumption that he would perform because it was expected of him.

He kissed along the top of one breast, dipping into the valley between them before moving to the other. Each time she gasped, it made his pulse pound faster and spurred him on. He worked the flesh free from one cup, and her nails scraped over his back. He growled at the sensation, lowering his mouth to her already hard nipple. He alternated between flicking his tongue over the nub and nibbling lightly.

His cock strained against denim, protesting the barrier keeping it from what it really wanted. He moved a knee between hers, nudging her legs apart, never letting up his attentions on her chest. His other hand dropped to her thigh and pushed her skirt up.

He couldn’t fight his smirk—or the loss of the last of the blood to his head—when he brushed the top of her stockings. “Thigh highs? That’s just sexy.”

Her flush deepened, though he wasn’t sure anymore if it was from embarrassment or excitement, and she squirmed against him. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

He covered her mouth with his again, swallowing her moans as he pushed her skirt to her hips. He trailed his finger along the elastic hugging her hip, tracing a line down her skin toward the warmth between her legs.

She shifted to draw closer to his touch, and he obliged, pushing the crotch of her panties aside and brushing her slit. The slippery wet against his finger added another layer to his need, but he could hold out a little longer. He spread her lower lips, and she pushed against his hand, inhaling sharply.

He dipped lower, fingers hovering at the edge of her hole before gliding inside. Her cry of pleasure and the way she ground against him drove him wild. He pumped slowly inside her, thumb searching higher to find the swollen nub begging for attention. Her breathing grew jagged when he brushed her clit.

He let the sound of her gasps and sharp breaths drive his pace. She sucked in a breath and arched against him, clenching around his fingers as she came.

She draped her hands at the base of his neck and pulled him back for another breathless kiss. There was hesitation on her face when they broke apart.

He didn’t know how to interpret the look. His brow furrowed in concern. “Is something wrong?”

She turned her gaze away, and she undid the button on his jeans. Her voice was quiet. “I want more. I want you.”

He growled with lust and relief when she slid his zipper down and wrapped her fingers around his cock. It took some fumbling on his part, but he managed to pull a condom from his wallet, unwrap it, and roll it on.

He nudged her legs farther apart, bulbous head hovering at her opening. She scooted forward, and her moan mingled with his gasp when he drove deep inside her. He rocked slowly against her, trying to prolong the moment, but she increased the pace.

His laugh was strained. “I won’t last long if you keep that up.”

She pushed harder against him. “I’m not worried about it.”

He couldn’t hold back anymore. She was so wet and tight around him. He sought out her clit again, thumb bumping against it as he pounded hard and fast inside her. Her short breaths told him she was close to peaking again, and he struggled to hold out. She screamed when she came, muscles tightening around him and milking him.