All's Fair in Lust & War Page 8

  To show her exactly how grateful he was, he slipped a finger into the place where their bodies met, searching for the nub that brought her so much pleasure.

  “Oh, God, I think I’m—”

  The last bit of her sentence became a wordless yell as she spasmed over him. Seconds later, he allowed himself to follow her over the edge.

  She collapsed on top of him and they sat quietly, catching their breath. Just then, his stepfather’s unwanted voice echoed in his head. Keep your hands to yourself if you know what’s good for you.

  Clearly the man had no idea what he was talking about. Nothing could be better for him than this. If there was a more satisfying way to relieve stress he’d yet to find it.

  Kissing her neck, he said, “I want to do that again.”

  “Already?” She laughed. “Give a girl a moment to recover.”

  “Not here. I want to take you home and love you properly.”

  She bit her lip, clearly trying to think of an excuse not to go.

  Taking her head in his hands, he looked deep into her eyes. “Don’t overthink it. I just want to spread you out on a bed and do you right. Just this once.”

  “All right. But just this once.”

  SIX

  Becky collapsed onto a fluffy white pillow, letting out a deep breath as her heart rate returned to normal.

  “I’ve said it before, and I’m sure I’ll say it again, but you really are Magic Man,” she said. “I can’t remember the last time I felt this relaxed.”

  Mark raised himself up on one elbow and grinned. “Glad to be of service,” he said. “Think I should go into business?”

  Becky giggled. “Sure—I can picture the ad now. It could read something like, ‘Forget the massage. Spend an hour with the Magic Man.’ And there’d be a picture of you, wearing nothing but a top hat and holding a wand.”

  He groaned. “Don’t quit your day job, babe.”

  At the mention of work Becky felt some of the tension return. “Day job? Try twenty-four-seven job. I never stop thinking about the pitch. Do you?”

  “Only when I’m otherwise occupied by you,” Mark said, eyes smiling. “Hey, think we could work orgasmic sex into the Eden campaign?”

  Becky laughed as her stomach growled. “I don’t know. I’m too hungry to think. But maybe if you feed me I’ll think of a way.”

  Pulling on his boxers, Mark said, “Message received. Let me see what I can rustle up.”

  As he padded the short distance over the hardwood floor to the kitchen area Becky couldn’t help but admire the gorgeous contours of his muscled body. He was by far the best-looking man she’d ever slept with—not that there’d been that many.

  She hadn’t had time for boys in high school, and had spent her undergrad years being too afraid of making the same mistake her mother had—dropping out of college to get married—to allow herself to have any real relationships.

  In fact, other than a few drunken encounters, there hadn’t been anyone until Pence. And there certainly hadn’t been anyone after him.

  She sighed. What a waste of a decade. If Mark had taught her anything, it was that sex could be lots of fun—especially when there were no strings attached.

  Mark’s voice brought her out of her reverie. “What do you want? Chinese, Thai, or pizza?”

  She blinked. “You have enough stuff in that tiny refrigerator to make all of that?” It didn’t look big enough to house much more than a six-pack of beer.

  “Nope. I’ve got exactly five green olives, two hunks of moldy cheese, and one gallon of expired milk. We’re getting takeout.”

  “Oh. Thai, I guess,” she answered, leaving her cozy nest on the futon to peek at the menus he was holding out. He pulled her against his chest so they could look at the menus together, but all she could think about was the delicious way he smelled: a little bit spicy, a little bit outdoorsy, and all male.

  Suddenly an idea struck her. “Maybe we could work orgasms into the campaign,” she said.

  “What?”

  “Orgasms. Eden. I bet we could do some funny videos linking them.”

  He blinked. “I thought you had to eat before you could have any more brilliant ideas?”

  “Yeah, well, get me some of that pineapple curry and I’ll be even more brilliant,” she answered.

  “Coming right up,” he said, and punched the number into his phone.

  * * *

  A couple of hours later the block of granite that did double duty as a table and a kitchen counter was littered with take-out boxes and crumpled sheets of paper.

  Becky yawned and stretched. “I think we’ve got some pretty solid scripts here, don’t you?”

  “I think we’ve got some award-winners here—that’s what I think,” Mark said.

  “Me, too,” she said, yawning again. “Which is good, because it’s definitely time for me to go home.”

  Mark glanced up at the clock on the microwave. “It’s practically morning already. Why don’t you just stay?”

  A small ping of alarm sounded in her brain. Coming over for a quick hookup was one thing. Staying overnight was definitely relationship territory.

  “Two o’clock is hardly morning,” she said. “Besides, we’ve got work tomorrow. I’d rather not be seen wearing the same clothes two days in a row.”

  “Nobody will notice,” he said, his voice softly cajoling.

  “No? Not any of the fifty bazillion people I have meetings with tomorrow? I think they will.”

  “Well, you could always stop at home in the morning. Before going to work.”

  “I’ve got an eight a.m. meeting. No time.” It was just supposed to be a quick gab with Jessie at the diner. But she’d put it on her calendar, so it counted.

  Mark looked at her for a long moment. She wasn’t sure what he saw, but finally he sighed and looked away.

  “Fine. I’ll call you a cab.”

  “I can walk.”

  “No. You can’t. Not at this hour.”

  “Really. I can!”

  “Just let me do it, okay? I’ll worry about you otherwise.”

  She shut her mouth with a snap, unsure of what to say. No one had worried about her in a long time. It felt good to know that he cared.

  But he wasn’t supposed to care. And neither was she. Caring led to relationships, which led to heartbreak—and she was sure as hell never going through that again.

  “Okay,” she mumbled. “Call me a cab. I’ll go get dressed.”

  * * *

  Becky poured milk into her coffee and watched the cheerful chaos that was morning in the diner, waiting for Jessie to digest what she’d told her.

  “So you went to his place? Big deal,” Jessie said, leaning back against the red vinyl booth.

  “I thought you said that was out of bounds in office affairs?” she answered.

  Jessie shrugged. “I just said that to make you feel better. Think about it: most people have to have sex in their homes. We don’t all have a private office to escape to when we decide we’re in the mood for a booty call.”

  “We’ve only actually done it in our office once...”

  Jessie covered her ears. “Eww. That’s enough. I don’t want to know where else you guys have been. I have to work there, too, you know.”

  “All right, all right, I won’t tell you. It’s just that, well, it feels safe at work. Once we venture beyond the building it all starts to feel too relationshippy,” Becky said.

  Just then Rachel, their favorite waitress, arrived and slammed down their pancakes. “Here you go, ladies! Two pancake short stacks, just like usual. Enjoy!”

  “Thank you, Rachel,” Becky said.

  “No problem,” the matronly woman said. “Eat up. You’re getting too skinny!”
>
  Both women were silent as they buttered the stacks and dived in. After the first bite, Jessie pointed at Becky with her fork.

  “You know what your problem is?”

  “What?”

  “You’re overthinking it. This thing with Mark is just like the stack of pancakes in front of you. They’re gorgeous to behold, delicious to experience, but when you’ve had enough you won’t be sad, will you?”

  Becky shook her head.

  “Exactly. You’ll enjoy your post-pancake carb coma and forget about them. Until the next time you get a craving.”

  With that she took another giant bite and grinned. “These are really yummy.”

  Becky laughed. She had a point.

  “I don’t think he’d like being compared to pancakes.”

  Jessie raised an eyebrow. “You don’t think he’d like you to eat him up?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe I’ll ask him.”

  “Good girl. But mind if I give you a tip?”

  “What?”

  “Don’t use maple syrup in bed. Too sticky.”

  Becky blushed. “I’ll try to remember that.”

  And just like that everything was right in her world again. She wasn’t having a relationship. She was just enjoying a good breakfast after a long fast.

  That she could deal with.

  * * *

  Mark hovered at the door to their office, afraid to go in. After Becky had left his apartment he’d tossed and turned all night.

  It had been a great evening. He’d enjoyed every second of it. The sex, the food, the brainstorming...he’d never experienced anything like it. He certainly hadn’t wanted it to end.

  But when he’d realized how much it mattered to him that Becky got home safely—and how much he’d rather she didn’t leave at all—reality had crashed in. He’d never worried about any of his other bedmates like that. In fact he was usually the one rushing them out through the door.

  After Mark had seen her into a cab he’d collapsed into bed, but sleep had been the furthest thing from his mind. All he’d been able to think about was Becky. He could no longer pretend this was a simple office affair. He was starting to have feelings for this woman. Big feelings. And that was no good.

  He didn’t do relationships. Period. And even if he did want a relationship he couldn’t have one with Becky. It was just too complicated.

  It had been almost time to go to work when he’d finally faced the truth. As much as he was enjoying their time together, he had to put a stop to it. If he didn’t, both he and Becky were going to get hurt.

  No matter how cool Becky seemed, he couldn’t take a chance on her. Sandra had taught him that love wasn’t worth the pain.

  Besides, she deserved someone who had enough money to take care of her. Not someone who had voluntarily cut himself off from his rich family’s largesse.

  Taking a deep breath, he walked through the door. And stopped dead. Becky was sitting cross-legged on the floor in a patch of sunshine, laptop perched precariously on her knees. She was jamming to something on her iPhone, humming tunelessly along to whatever song was piping through her headphones.

  She looked relaxed and happy, which was a far cry from the stressed-out ball of nerves he had expected to encounter this morning.

  He must have made some kind of noise because she turned. When she saw him she smiled, the grin lighting up her whole face.

  It took his breath away. God, she was beautiful.

  “Hey, Magic Man,” she shouted, clearly not realizing her headphones were in.

  He laughed in spite of himself, motioning to her to take them out.

  “What?” she yelled. “Oh.” Giggling, she removed her headphones. “Oh. That is better,” she said, unwinding herself from her spot on the floor. “Okay, let’s try this again. Good morning, Magic Man.”

  He smiled back at her. “Good morning.”

  She crossed over to him and reached up for a kiss. At the last minute he turned his cheek.

  She frowned. “What’s with the shy act?”

  He shrugged. “I just think we should cool it during office hours.”

  “You do, huh? That’s a first. But whatever...”

  She turned and went to her desk, but not before he saw the hurt that flashed across her face.

  “I’ve got our scripts all typed up and polished. If you want, we can go present them to David now.”

  He took a deep breath, knowing that if he didn’t tell her what he had come to say now he never would.

  “Good idea. But can we talk for a minute first?”

  “Okay,” she said. “This sounds serious. What’s up?”

  “I don’t think this is a good idea anymore,” he blurted.

  “You don’t like the campaign?”

  “No, I meant this,” he said, motioning to the two of them. “Us. I don’t think we should pursue a personal relationship anymore.”

  She blinked slowly. “Wow. Okay, that’s a change in tune. May I ask what prompted it?”

  He shrugged again. “There’s just too much going on right now. We need to focus on the task at hand.”

  It wasn’t a lie. He definitely did need to focus on his career right now. And so did she. The fact that doing so would keep all those pesky feelings at bay was just a fringe benefit.

  “I thought we decided that the best way to stay focused was to give in to our personal desires,” she said, in the same carefully professional voice he had used.

  “I changed my mind,” he said.

  She shook her head as her face flushed with anger. “You’re a piece of work—you know that? First you come on all hot and heavy, begging me to give this a shot, telling me how much fun we’ll have, and then, just when I’m starting to enjoy myself, you pull the plug.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said, fighting the urge to grab her in his arms and kiss her until she forgot all about this conversation.

  “I should have known better than to trust you to keep your word,” she snarled. “You’re a selfish bastard, just like every man I’ve ever known.”

  Grabbing her computer, she headed for the door.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To my office. I can’t stand to look at you right now.”

  “This is your office.”

  “Fine. I’m going to Jessie’s office, then.”

  “What about the scripts?”

  “I’ll email them to you. You can present them to David by yourself.”

  Then she swept out, slamming the door behind her.

  Mark scrubbed his face with his hands, fairly certain he’d made a gigantic mess of things. But at least he’d done it before anyone’s heart had gotten involved.

  That would have been even worse.

  * * *

  Becky sat nursing a cup of tea in the kitchen, keeping an ear cocked toward the hallway door so she could escape out the back way if necessary. So far she’d managed to avoid Mark for three days, and she had every intention of continuing the trend.

  It had been easy enough to do. She’d kept herself busy managing the print and digital teams, and let him take the lead on the broadcast stuff.

  It pained her to give up control of her ideas, but the only other option was to sit in a room with him and wonder what she had done to turn him off. And, worse, what it was about her that made men want to run—even when all she wanted was sex.

  Her instincts had been right. She was better off without a man in her life, even if the sex was awesome. There were enough adult sites selling sex toys to keep her satisfied for decades—no emotional entanglements required.

  The only thing they couldn’t do was make her laugh. But as long as Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert continued to make their nightly TV appearances she’d
have plenty of funny men in her life. It would have to be enough.

  She was debating whether she should make a second cup of coffee when she heard a familiar roar in the hallway.

  “Becky? Becky, where are you?” David shouted. Then, only slightly more quietly, “Just like a woman. Never around when you need her.”

  She slammed her cup down and strode out into the hallway.

  “I’m right here,” she said.

  He turned, a slippery smile on his face. “Oh, there you are. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

  “Well, I’ve been sitting in the kitchen for the last twenty minutes, so...”

  “Never mind, never mind—you’re here now. Come with me, my dear. We need you in the production studio.”

  “All right,” she said as they hurried down the hallway. “What’s going on?”

  “It’s these videos,” he said, holding the door open for her. “They were brilliant on paper, but they’re just not coming together. I want you to have a look.”

  She stopped just inside the door, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the darkness of the room. When her vision returned she saw Mark frowning into one of the eight monitors, unhappiness etched into every line of his face.

  He glanced in their direction, and when he caught sight of her she was pretty sure she saw a relieved expression cross his face.

  “Hey,” he said.

  “Hey, yourself,” she said. “What did you do to our videos? I hear they lost their magic.”

  He ignored the dig.

  “I’m not sure. Take a look and tell me what you think.”

  He hit a button on the keyboard and the videos began to play. Becky tried to pay attention, but found herself getting distracted by the man next to her. She could feel the heat coming from him like a physical thing. It called to her, drawing her in like a moth to a flame.

  What was it about this man? Why did the very sight of him turn her knees to jelly? It wasn’t fair. Especially since he didn’t seem to feel the same way.

  “So what do you think?” he asked, and she realized the videos had stopped playing.