wasn’t sure you’d turn up this morning.’
That was the last thing she’d expected him to say. Fancy a repeat performance? Want to lean over my desk while I fuck you from behind? You’re a selfish lover and the deal is off. All those were closer to her imaginings.
‘Why? I agreed. I’m a professional.’
Sometimes. When she wasn’t drooling over him.
She was a big girl—one who could separate personal from business. Not that she’d ever been tested before now. Oh, how she hoped her faith in her own abilities was justified.
Liar.
Right now, all she wanted to do was strip him from his dressed-down street clothes and see if she could make him hard with just her mouth.
His expression inscrutable, his eyes flicked over her face and he stood. ‘Shall we?’
He moved to the door, holding it open and gesturing her to re-enter the real world. So calm. So indifferent.
Clearly they weren’t going to discuss last night. Discuss the inferno of chemistry they’d fanned to life. Only her mind was stuck there. Stuck on vivid images of him splaying her over his desk, his sofa, the floor, and continuing where they left off in her hotel room.
But Mr Lancaster was all business this morning. And that was where her head belonged. In the game. The game of marketing for Able-Active and the game of bedroom quid pro quo. She wouldn’t become professionally distracted from the first and she couldn’t become personally distracted by the second.
She crossed his office, her eyes flicking up to his as she passed him in the doorway, and headed back the way she’d come to the elevators. He walked beside her, his arm so close she could reach out and touch him. Perhaps she should. Apologise for last night. For leaving him…hanging. Suggest they rectify the imbalance of the situation later tonight.
He pressed the call button and they both gazed up. The feeling of déjà vu was strong enough to send licks of flame trickling down Libby’s spine. Just like last night, the elevator was empty. Alex pressed the button for a few floors down and the doors closed.
The crackle of tension ricocheted around inside Libby’s head. She craved more of those searing, all-consuming kisses. Damn, the man could kiss, and she’d already experienced his phenomenal oral skills. But instead of dispelling her torrid urges it had only intensified them. She wanted to stop the elevator and beg him to fuck her right here, right now.
Her eyes scanned the interior of the car, searching for security cameras.
And then the doors slid open, and his upper-class voice dragged her from her fantasies.
‘After you.’
Seriously? She could barely walk. Her nipples ached, her panties were ruined and her fingers twitched to get hold of him. She should have asked him to spend the night—that way she could have quenched her thirst with the perfect wake-up call this morning.
Alex, by comparison, seemed calm, efficient and businesslike. The ultimate professional. While she longed to play hooky with him, forget marketing budgets and brand awareness strategies and spend the week holed up in her hotel room, living out every dirty fantasy he’d inspired.
No. He’d definitely changed his mind. A cold, hard rock settled in her stomach.
He led her down a corridor that was a carbon copy of the one housing his office, again holding open the door for her to enter ahead of him when they reached their destination.
Libby stalled. ‘Office’ was a fairly grand term for what was essentially a small room with two desks, a single computer and a phone.
A woman in her early twenties looked up from the screen and stood on their arrival. ‘Hi, Alex.’
First-name terms? Of course.
He smiled, and Libby glanced away.
‘Hailey, this is Olivia Noble. She’s agreed to help with our marketing campaign. Put us on the map.’
He turned to Libby, the smile for his pretty young employee sliding from his face.
‘Hailey is the charity’s only full-time employee. The rest of the staff are volunteers.’
Libby shook hands with the woman, noting the way her eyes lingered on Alex. She didn’t blame her. ‘Magnetic’ didn’t really cover his appeal. And her resentment of Hailey, a woman she’d just met, originated in disappointment. He hadn’t brought her to this quiet part of the building for a repeat performance of last night. He wouldn’t be laying her over this desk and redressing the orgasm imbalance.
Damn.
If they’d been alone she might have broken her number one rule. Might have dropped to her knees in front of him, taken him in her mouth, given him something other than work to think about.
‘Any progress on the mountain biking trip?’
Alex took a folder from Hailey’s desk, his eyes scanning the contents.
Libby shook the tantalising images from her head. She could do indifference too.
Hailey nodded. ‘Some luck with the accommodation, thanks to the Welsh Tourism Board, but staffing is still an issue.’
Alex traced his bottom lip with his finger and thumb, his attention held by the paperwork in his hands.
Olivia cast her observant eye around the sparsely furnished and featureless room. One employee, an uninspiring space and staffing issues—hardly the picture of a successful Alex Lancaster venture. Why devote so much of his time to a fledgling charity? Time he could spend in more lucrative ways, building his empire. Surely Lancaster IT kept him busy?
With conversation clearly over, Libby followed Alex to the room’s spare desk, where he pulled out a chair for her before taking the second and moving it so they sat at right angles, rather than facing each other. Damn. She’d hoped a block of wood between them would coax her hormones into submission, or at least remind her to stay professional.
She busied herself with her tablet and her phone and then slid off her jacket, draping it over her bag at her feet.
Cool, calm, professional.
Right.
Her thighs still felt the imprint of that stubble he wore on his chin.
His low voice penetrated the lust filling her head as they faced off.
‘Are you okay? You seem…uncomfortable.’
Damn him—how dare he be so…unaffected? Her gaze flicked down. At least her hands weren’t trembling.
‘Not at all. I…’
She couldn’t confess the real direction of her lewd thoughts. Him. This desk. More orgasms good enough to make her forget her own name. Time for Plan B. Her trusty go-to—honesty.
‘I’m a
