2
The slim woman reclines on the loveseat, her pale knees drawn up in front of her. Her jean skirt rides up high and toes with nails done in frosted pink press against the loveseat’s opposite arm. She has long, long legs, the kind a man can never forget once he’s seen them bare almost to the hip. And though her tangle of blondish-brown hair covers part of her face, there can be no denying which of his employees had her hand between her luscious thighs.
Each flick of her delicately strong fingers incites a moan. She trembles, catches herself and briefly gains control. Almost immediately she’s teetering on that razor-sharp precipice again. His name passes her lips, echoing in the silence of the office.
“Spencer.”
Spencer leaned back in his desk chair and hit pause on the video, his finger shaking. She hadn’t come yet. He refused to let himself watch that much. Not until more of the employees had left and he could be alone.
He’d watched this video countless times. Jerked off to it almost as many, but only while in the privacy of his own home. He wasn’t bold enough to masturbate at work, even if he did have his own office.
Even ifshe’dmasturbated in it first.
He sucked in a breath and swiped away the saved video from the security feed from his screen. Tonight wasn’t the night for this. He hadn’t intended to watch it but he’d been pulled to her, drawn as always to the little glimpse she’d given him of the real woman behind the carefree tease and the workaholic manager devoted to the store.
One.She’d given him just one glimpse, after he’d neglected to lock his office on the night he’d agreed to test a new security camera system. He’d delayed making a decision and kept the system activated for weeks after, just in case she returned. He’d even left his door unlocked, despite the sensitive data he normally kept under lock and key. He never took chances, even though his file cabinet locked and his computer required a password.
But he’d risked a leak in the hopes of luring her back to the scene of her very sexy crime.
She hadn’t fallen for the bait. Now he’d been given new bait altogether.
He picked up the purple phone lying in the center of his blotter. Someone had left it there, with an incriminating list onscreen once he’d awakened it from lockscreen mode. The ancient phone had a passcode, the ridiculously simple 123456 he’d tried on a whim. Whether the culprit was the woman who’d gotten off so spectacularly on his loveseat or someone who wanted to cause her trouble, he didn’t know.
But he would find out.
The door opened and his sister strolled in, her blond hair carefully tousled around her face. “What’s up, Spence?”
“Shut the door.”
Marcia did as he asked and turned back with a yawn. Probably keeping too many late nights, as usual. “What’s going on?”
He held up the phone, his gaze trained on her face. Watching for any change. “Know anything about this?”
“It’s a phone. An old one, looks like.”
“And?”
“And what? I don’t have time for your games.”
She sounded entirely too evasive for his taste. If there was trouble, Marcia Galvin Daly could often be found at the root of it. “Have you seen it before?”
“Maybe.” She shrugged and examined her manicure. Flawless as always, he had no doubt. “Could be Kelly’s.”
Spencer leaned back in his chair and tapped the thumb of his free hand on the edge of the blotter. “You’re telling me you don’t know anything about why this was on my desk.”
“Why would I?” She strolled over to the window, her manner suspiciously relaxed.
He swiveled to look at her and tried to keep his temper in check. She didn’t know of his…interest in Kelly. He’d done his best to ignore it. To pretend he didn’t pay attention every time she bent to locate a book for a customer. To deny he cared when she flirted with Cale or Tony or one of the other guys.
But especially, to suppress his urge to follow her home some night and watch her go through her nightly routine. Right up to when she undressed for bed and slipped beneath the sheets, her naked, supple body brushing against cool cotton…
That was before he’d been on the receiving end of the one-two punch of her solo love session in his office and now, a list on her phone of men she wanted to fuck. Maybe shehadfucked most of them already for all he knew.
And this To Do list includedhisname.
At the bottom. Number ten. She’d touched herself and writhed against the damn loveseat he’d bought at Marcia’s request, in anticipation of her taking over his office. But when it came to men she found desirable, Kelly had listed him dead last.
What the hell was up with that?