Chapter Eight

The conversation with Grant still played in Emily’s head, as she crossed the office floor to her desk. Thinking about that was better than thinking about how things would go next time she talked to Justin. His name was enough to send flutters dancing across her skin. Each time he popped in her head, she called questions about the phone conversation to the forefront.

Had she given too much away, and sold APPropriate Designs out? If there’s nothing to give away, it doesn’t matter what I said. Her logic wasn’t as reassuring as she wanted.

As she approached her desk, she saw the lights in Antonio’s office were on. She smiled before she realized she was doing so. Sure enough, when she rounded the corner, she saw him. She set her stuff on her desk, except for one of the two cups of coffee she carried, and knocked on his open door.

“Hey.” He looked up. Even with circles under his eyes and exhaustion lining his face, he was gorgeous.

What would have happened if she met him at the bar instead of Justin? She shook the thought aside and handed him the drink. “You didn’t get to finish the coffee you ordered last night, so I brought you this.” She had no idea why she ordered a second drink this morning, but it sounded like as good a reason as any.

He took a sip, before setting the cup aside. “Thank you. It’s perfect.”

“I don’t know how you take it, but I figured after the long night you probably had, extra shot of espresso was a good start. I’m kind of surprised to see you here this early.” The same thought that nagged her since yesterday whispered back. Why was she needed here? Justin and Antonio were dedicated to their jobs. Though she hadn’t been here long, a day was usually enough to see some of the chinks in a company’s operations. APPropriate Designs had hiccups, but nothing glaring.

“Sometimes I wonder why I bother going home at night.” Antonio laughed. “If I set up a cot in the gym, I could move in and stop paying my mortgage.”

“Did you get your crisis solved? Or are there any outstanding bugs I can help with? Something to dig into and get my feet wet?”

He shook his head. “Yes to the crisis. No to the rest. Thank you, though.” He furrowed his brow, then waved to the chair across from him. “Will you come in and have a seat?”

“What’s up?” The one contract she had before Grant’s retainer that didn’t go well was enough to instill a dread for those words. And it had accompanied pissing off the wrong person in management.

Antonio pinched the bridge of his nose. “There’s no delicate way to put this. I’m praying it doesn’t backfire.”

“Okay…?”

“I don’t care what happened between you and Justin. The details aren’t my business, and I’m glad he didn’t share any. I’m not passing judgment. It doesn’t change my opinion of either of you. You’re consenting adults.”

Not where she expected the discussion to go, but that didn’t make it any less awkward.

“However, as the guy whose ass you’re here to save, I need to know the events of Saturday night won’t impact your work.”

She let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. If she’d built out a conversation like this in her head, her best-case scenario couldn’t have gone much smoother. She looked him in the eye. “I promise it won’t interfere.”

“Dinner was a fluke, then? You’re going to have to interact with him on a regular basis. And to ensure you don’t think I’m picking on you, I asked him the same thing. He promised to behave.”

She bit back the he started it, that wanted to force its way out. “I should have kept myself in check last night. Everything I told you about wanting to see you succeed is true. No one wins—not me or Grant or anyone—if this project falls apart.”

“Thank you.” Some of the lines vanished from around his eyes. “When my lead developer for this project gets in, I’ll introduce you. You can start on the bug list and pull up anything that’s a Priority Three that you’re comfortable tackling. For the next couple of days, until you’re both comfortable with your work, he’ll review your fixes before they go to quality assurance.”

“Are you sure you trust me to poke around in your code?” she teased. It felt odd being comfortable enough with him already to make a joke like that.

He didn’t seem to mind. “If you plan on selling us out despite your repeated assurances to the contrary, tell me now, and I can make sure you only see the not-top-secret work.” It was an oddly specific request, but she didn’t know his sense of humor. He was being friendly and she was grateful for that.

“I’ll do that.”

She settled in to work, the conversation with Antonio flitting in the back of her mind like a happy hum. Her question from earlier drifted back. What if it was him in the bar instead?

Would it have been better or worse if he was the man she went home with? Antonio was gorgeous, and that accent sent delicious tingles dancing over her skin. Justin had been right on both counts. Then again, the sex was amazing with Justin, and he wasn’t the guy she had to look in the eye every day. If it was that good or better with Antonio, it might not be possible to stow the memories.

She shook it all aside. She shouldn’t be lusting after either of them. There were countless other men out there, and she didn’t know these two well enough to justify fixating on them. It was bad enough she’d—even unintentionally—slept with someone she had to report to but in a case like this, where she was supposed to be an objective outside opinion… If news of her hookup with Justin made it any further, she could kiss the retainer deal with Grant goodbye. Which meant not having a pleasant nest egg for her plans to see the world. Worse, it’d screw up Emily’s reputation. Possibly irreparably.

As the morning wore on, her surroundings grew louder. Snippets of conversation drifted in from everywhere, but most of it came from Antonio’s office. She felt like there was a train platform behind her desk. How did he get any work done?

Wednesday morning, she remembered her earbuds. As with yesterday, Antonio’s office light was on and his door open when she arrived. He wasn’t at his desk, though. She reached her cubicle, and a giddy thread wove through her when she saw a cup of coffee on her desk.

There was a Post-It next to the cup, with a scrawling, handwritten note. What can I say? I’m old fashioned.

She wasn’t certain of the note’s meaning, but she had her assumptions. Most of them had to do with him feeling awkward a woman bought him a drink. She should be offended by the implication, right? She was progressive and independent. Instead, her smile grew when she took a sip, and sweet white chocolate mixed with espresso hit her tongue.

“I hope I guessed right.” His seductive accent floated from behind her.

She used the blink it took her to face him as time to assemble a professional mask. “It’s sweeter than I’m used to, but a little decadence and sin are nice once in a while.” Did she really say that?

The twitch of the corners of his mouth implied he caught the hint of flirting and didn’t mind. “Couldn’t agree more. Holler if you need anything.”

The rest of the day passed without incident, and she whispered a small thank you at another shift gone by without having to face Justin. Thursday morning there was no coffee, and the lights in Antonio’s office were out. She couldn’t ignore her disappointment, but reason barged in and pointed out it was for the best. She needed to concentrate more on the job and less on the scenery.

 

*

 

Antonio felt as though he’d been pulled in a million different directions at once, with no end on the horizon. The morning began with a breakfast meeting with a client that went long. Since then, he’d been ten minutes late to everything. He settled at his desk for the first time today, grateful for the chance to breathe. He had almost an hour to work through emails. That was nice.

His phone rang before he could get through the first message. Figures. The screen said it was his user-interface developer. Antonio grabbed the receiver. “Yes?”

“This focus group is running over. I’m going to be here today and tomorrow. Which means I won’t meet my development deadline.”

“Wait. What focus group?” Antonio didn’t authorize that.

“The one for Promiscuous Perks. Justin set it up weeks ago.”

Fuck. Leave it to Justin. Antonio gritted his teeth. “We’ll take care of it. Thanks for letting me know.” He hung up and dropped his head into his hands. He didn’t have anyone with an open schedule and that skillset. A flash of red hair caught his attention, and inspiration struck.

“Emily, do you have a minute?” he called.

She locked her computer, then crossed the short distance to his office. “What’s up?” Her relaxed posture and cheerful tone erased a layer of his stress. The view didn’t hurt, either. Her jacket and slacks hugged her curves in all the right places, and she had an extra button undone on her blouse. If she bent over, the view wouldn’t be as generous as in his dream, but the tease of what lay underneath might be better.

He mentally cleared his throat. “You said the other day you’ve got experience with Android user interfaces and Java optimization.”

“It’s a hobby.” She caught her bottom lip between her teeth, looking pleased with herself.

Christ, that was alluring. “I’d say odd hobby, but I’d be lying if I pretended wondering why didn’t fascinate me. I need you on something more critical than bug fixes.” He gestured for her to come around to his side of the desk and pointed at his screen. “My UI guy is tied up with a focus group. This is what you need to do.”

When she stood this close, looking over his shoulder, the faint scent of jasmine drifted from her. It drilled into his thoughts and mingled with the dream he hadn’t managed to shake two days later. “What’s the picture of?” she asked.

She meant the image on his computer desktop. “Milan. My sister and I, last time I visited.” The memory summoned traces of homesickness.

“It’s gorgeous. You’re lucky.”

“Because I’m from Italy?” He glanced at her.

“Well, yes. That too. Though I suppose it’s as exciting to you as San Francisco is to me. Big deal, right?”

It depended on whose eyes he saw the city through. Experiencing Milan with Justin for the first time had given Antonio an entirely new perspective. He didn’t need to share that information, though. “It’s got its beauties.”

“I can only imagine. I meant lucky that you’ve traveled the world. The farthest I’ve been out of the country was when my best friend and I would take weekend trips to Mexico. I bet you have a million stories to tell.”

Her awe reminded him of the wonder of setting out on his own, back then. His flight to Brazil. First time roaming a foreign country alone. “I’ve got a few. You talk like you’ll never go. There’s always the option.”

“I guess. Work gets in the way. You know? The next job is waiting; the next paycheck is set aside for something.”

He glanced at her again. The wistfulness on her face matched her voice. “I suppose you’re right,” he said.

“Anyway.” She shook her head. “UI work?”

“Right. That.”

As he spoke, she made notes, asked questions, and seemed to absorb everything he told her.

“Antonio.” One of the developers interrupted. “I need your time.” He was one of the people working on the other project. The team had been asked not to discuss it openly.

“I’ll be by in a minute,” Antonio said.

“I just need a yes or no. I can’t move forward on Promiscuous Perks—”

“I said, I’ll be there in a minute.” Antonio cringed at the edge in his voice.

“Sure.” The guy left so quickly, he might as well have vanished.

Emily looked between Antonio and the doorway. “What was that about?”

None of your business. He bit back the sharp retort. “Nothing.” He spoke through clenched teeth. He gestured to his screen. “Back to UI requirements.”

She frowned but let him dive back into his explanation of her new assignment.

Fifteen minutes later, she was back at her desk, working. He was grateful she didn’t push the PP issue.

The rest of the day passed without incident. His meetings flowed smoothly, and by the time five closed in, he was ready to call it a day. Not that he could. He’d shift his attention to their side project for the next several hours before that was an option. But tomorrow was Friday, and after they redeployed Mercy’s site on Saturday night, they could take Sunday off. Something to look forward to.

In the main office, he heard the various voices wishing each other a good night, and the shuffle of people leaving for the day.

“Promiscuous Perks.” Emily interrupted. She stood in his doorway, watching him. “Is that what PP stands for?”

Fuck. She shouldn’t care what it was. If he’d kept his cool earlier, there wouldn’t be anything for her to question. He drummed his fingers on his desk and grasped the first answer that came to mind. One as close to the truth as possible without giving anything away. “We have a client who runs a string of porn websites. The developers think it’s funny, because we’re all a bunch of six year olds. They made up a nickname for his customization.” He was a horrible liar. Worse, something gnawed behind his ribs for being dishonest with her.

“What does that have to do with the failed beta on Monday?” she asked.

“Monday night was a fluke. Nothing to worry about.”

“Right. Because you didn’t roll out a beta, because you have a tight deadline and you promised your board and investors you were dedicating all of your resources to meeting that schedule.”

She was hitting closer to home than he cared for.

“Exactly.” He tried to meet her gaze but couldn’t. He settled for focusing on something behind her, and prayed she wouldn’t notice.

“And if I go ask Justin, he’ll feed me the same story about what PP stands for?”

Why wasn’t she dropping this? “He’ll tell you the same thing I did.”

“Because in the amount of time it takes me to find his office on the top floor, you’ll let him know I’m on my way and why?”

“Because he already knows.”

Justin was a better liar than Antonio was. If she decided to go up there, she’d run into a brick wall. Especially if she and Justin let themselves get as distracted as the last time they were in a room together. Antonio bit back a scowl at the thought.

She pursed her lips. “You can’t do something that’s going to threaten your stance with the board.”

“I agree. We’re not doing anything.”

“No, you’re not. We’ll have the UI conversation when I’m done talking to Justin.” She turned on her toe and headed toward the elevators.

Antonio thought about chasing her down, but a niggle of relief kept him in his chair. If she knew, there was no more need to hide this secret. No more waiting for the other shoe to drop and wondering when she’d find out and tell Grant.

He clenched his fist hard enough his knuckles ached. She was going to tell Grant. Fuck.

Chapter Nine

“Mercy’s turned your name into an effective curse word,” Andrew said.

Justin rolled his eyes at the phone, but he’d taken the call willingly and was grateful for the friendly distraction. “I thought you resigned from being her guard dog.”

A note from Antonio popped on his monitor. Incoming. I promise all she has is a name and a handful of assumptions

Justin didn’t need to ask for details. He could make assumptions of his own.

“I did.” Andrew sounded like this was the least of his concerns. Then again, that was typical for him. “I’m the messenger. Nothing more. I don’t care that you brought the entire site down.”

“It’s your site.”

“It’s data collection. Oh no. I might have to guess on my own which fetishes are trending next.” Andrew owned Smut Central, one of the largest internet-porn distributors in the world.

Justin chuckled at the light sarcasm. It was one of the reasons they were testing PP with Andrew. The man had an instinct for what kinks were hot, and the goal was to see if PP’s algorithms could match or even beat human experience. “If you’re that blasé about my impending doom, thanks to Mercy’s wrath, you called because…?” If Justin didn’t cut to the chase, he’d get sucked into an hour-long conversation. Tempting but counterproductive.

“Yeah, yeah. You’re a busy man with a busy life. This is a social call. One of Susan’s classes is competing in San Francisco in a few weeks. She was wondering if those cute gay friends of mine are free for dinner.”

“Her words?” It was an old joke. When Justin met Mercy in Brazil, she misunderstood his preferences and set him up with a friend of Andrew’s. Who turned out to be Antonio. After the night Justin shared with Emily, though, Andrew’s question tugged at a thought Justin didn’t care to examine too closely.

“My words.” Andrew said. “She actually bothers to remember people’s names. It’s a neat trick. Someday I’ll get her to teach me. But I figured we’d drive into town for the day if you two are free.”

The chance to catch up, unwind, and do something besides pound toward conflicting deadlines was tempting. “I can’t say yet. This thing is devouring every free minute. I need an extra day in the week as it is.”

A knock drew Justin’s attention, and he looked up to see Emily standing in the doorway, lips pursed and cheeks flushed. Time to cut the conversation short. “If you’re willing to pencil me in, I’ll give you a definite yes or no next week,” he said to Andrew.

“Will do. Do you think Antonio has five minutes? Is he still around?”

Justin glanced at Emily again—the crossed arms and the furrow of her brow—then back at the message on his screen. “Odds are good. I’ll send you over.” Based on the clues, Antonio should welcome the distraction.

Justin blind transferred the call, then gave Emily his full attention. He wasn’t sure how to approach her. The flirting they fell into on Monday probably wasn’t appropriate. That didn’t stop the swell of her lips and tapping of her foot from being alluring.

And she was still watching him with expectation.

He settled on, “I have a meeting in five minutes. What’s up?”

“You have a meeting at five thirty-seven? You really do schedule your time down to the last minute.”

“I do.”

She stepped in the room and kicked the door shut behind her.

That was a bit odd and presumptive.

“Promiscuous Perks,” she said.

Ice slid through his veins, but he shook it off. Antonio warned she had a name. Which also meant she now had a piece of lucrative information to use against Justin. Not that she needed to know that. “It’s catchy.” He kept his expression and tone neutral. “Are you thinking of taking what you learn here and competing with us?”

She lingered near the door. “Picture me pretending to be offended you think I’d break my non-disclosure and non-compete agreements. If I did that, I’d come up with a name you’re not already using.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about. If Antonio hasn’t given you access to the development timeline yet, make sure he does that. You’ll see we’re maxed out on man hours until we make this beta.”

“The one you rolled out Monday night?”

He couldn’t hide his wince. If all she had was assumptions, she’d put some pretty significant pieces together, to arrive at them. If he couldn’t bury the truth, maybe he could sell her on the idea enough to buy her silence. It was a long shot, but the harder he pushed her away, the more curious she’d get. If she was at this point, after less than a week, it was time to try a new approach. A desperate play, but his reserves were drained. “Do you have time right now, or are you headed home?”

“It depends.” She eyed him suspiciously.

He gestured to the table, on the opposite end of his office, and the chairs around it. He stood and approached his whiteboard. “I’ll tell you what’s going on.”

She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, uncrossed her arms, then took a seat.

“I need you to use your imagination for a moment, if you will.” The phrasing was an intentional reminder of Saturday night.

Her frown said she knew it. “All right.”

“Picture an application that’s been collecting buyer information from thousands of vendors for the last five years. Not in a nefarious, big-brother kind of way, but anonymously. The system doesn’t care who bought what.” He sketched as he talked. Shapes connected with lines. A data structure. “Every piece of data is a number, and it only cares what the patterns are across numbers.”

“You mean… kind of like what APPropriate Designs does?”

“Exactly like that. The system is robust. Over the years, with the right people working on it, it’s become an artificial intelligence that can guess who’s moving into a stable relationship, based on how often they buy new windshield wipers.” This was gross oversimplification at its finest, but if she caught on as quickly as Antonio said, she understood that.

She didn’t look impressed. “I have an idea how the system works, yes.”

“Perfect. You’re still imagining, right?”

“Sure.”

“Once a structure like that is in place, who’s to say it has to be restricted to sales? If it can predict when someone is going to be in the market for diamonds, it should also be able to tell—based on grades, courses taken, the content of completed assignments, etcetera—whether or not someone will struggle in school.”

She sat up straighter, and the glazed-over look vanished from her eyes. “Really.” Curiosity replaced the boredom in her voice. “Could you go so far as to say if they’re falling behind because they’re bored, versus unable to keep up?”

“That’s precisely what it does.” This was too easy. True, it was his plan, but he didn’t expect her to fold with a few words.

“It’s brilliant. You’ve got this slated down the road, for a future release after you meet this deadline?”

He mentally facepalmed. “This is Promiscuous Perks.”

“Got it. Deceptive codename, to hide the fact you’re working on something you’re not funded for.”

“Working off-hours. Why do you think we’re always here late?”

“Except it’s not limited to off hours, because one of your developers asked about it during the day.” Her expression softened. “It’s an amazing idea, and if it comes close to what I’ve seen, it’ll be brilliant in execution. Make your deadline, get the board’s sign-off, and then fit it into the schedule.”

He wasn’t going to lose his cool over this. She wasn’t trying to be condescending; she simply didn’t know the history. He tempered his response. “I understand what you’re saying, and it’s reasonable. Or it was, two and a half years ago. And then eighteen months ago. And then six months ago, when the shareholders told us the same thing each time. They don’t think there’s money in education. They keep vetoing us.”

“Which sucks. I get it. But you’re operating on someone else’s capital. You don’t get to tell them you’re using it for one thing, and then apply it to something else.”

“That’s funny. I could have sworn your title was Development Consultant. I didn’t realize you’d be involved in finance.” He needed to watch himself. If he made this personal, he’d already lost.

When she clenched her jaw, a smudge of satisfaction flitted inside him. He wasn’t the only one this was rubbing wrong.

Her smile looked strained—more teeth than joy. “My job is to figure out why you’re not meeting your deadlines, and make sure you do. I’ve spent most of the week trying to uncover why it’s a problem. Antonio runs a solid team. The company as a whole is put together well. There are none of the warning signs I see in most collapsing businesses.”

“Because we’re not in danger of crumbling.”

“Unless you lose your funding, because—I don’t know—someone can’t keep their ego in check?”

“This isn’t about vanity.” His voice rose. He didn’t care. “It’s a solid fucking idea, and it’s got far-reaching benefits.”

She stomped to her feet, which put her a few inches away. “I’m not saying otherwise. But pursuing it this way? Risking everything for the people around you? That’s your pride. There’s a way to do these things, and this isn’t it.”

“If I did things the same way as everyone else, I’d have a net worth of nothing and be pitching my idea to any poor sod unfortunate enough to stand next to me in a line. Instead, I’m here. We built this because we’re not in the habit of falling in line. We’re pursuing PP to keep from losing that momentum. I won’t be another face in a sea of forgettable apps. A flash in the pan. The guy everyone says he used to be someone, but he couldn’t adapt. Fuck that. There’s no point in doing this if I’m pursuing someone else’s dream while mine collects dust in the hanger.” He clipped off his words before he could say more. He hadn’t meant to spill this much. To leave this much of himself on the table.

He’d leaned in until their noses almost touched. Emily watched him with wide eyes.

“What?” he snapped.

She licked her lips. The adrenaline and fury racing through his veins tugged at his cock. “I know now why I went home with you Saturday night.” Her voice was quiet but as steady as her gaze that never left his face. “And for what it’s worth, I don’t have a counter.”

“Don’t.” He dragged a thumb over her bottom lip.

She gasped. “Don’t what?”

“Don’t you dare choose now to be rational.” He wouldn’t have the wind sucked out of his sails.

“All right. I won’t.” She rose on her toes and kissed him. The caress of her mouth was so light, he felt the heat of her skin more than the brush of her lips.

He gripped the back of her neck, holding her in place, and kissed her back. Need roared through him. It danced on his fingertips and curled in his toes and singed his chest. Giving in to her was the worst fucking idea he’d had in ages. And the last thing he wanted was to stop.

Chapter Ten

This was a bad, horrible, terrible idea. Career suicide. The equivalent of Emily lighting her resume on fire.

Justin pushed her jacket to the ground, pulled back the collar of her shirt, and bit her shoulder. The sharp sting drowned out her doubt.

“Let me help you a bit.” He kissed up her neck, while he trailed his fingers down the front of her blouse. “This is the part where you say, No. We shouldn’t.”

“Mmhmm.” She tilted her head back as he dragged his mouth along her throat.

He reached her waist and undid the bottom button on her shirt. “That it was only supposed to be a one-time thing.” He moved back up, undoing each button he encountered and brushing her bare stomach. “That it’s not professional.”

She was amused he vocalized her thoughts better than she could. It was hard to think when he was sucking a path down her chest, to the top of her breast, then gliding above the lace of her bra. “Then what do I say?” she asked.

“Well…” His words hummed against her skin, and her nipples strained against fabric, wanting individual attention. He traveled his mouth back up to her jaw. “You don’t say much of anything, because you can’t talk when you’re kissing me.”

Good suggestion. She grasped the short strands of his dark hair and pulled his head up. When she kissed him again, tingles rolled over her. He rested a hand on her back, under her shirt, and pulled her close until her body molded to his. His palm was hot. It didn’t matter how many arguments she came up with; she didn’t want to break away. Tension flowed between them like electricity, raising the hairs on her arms and aching with need between her legs.

He let go, pulled back, and placed a finger on her lips. “You remind me you forgot to lock the door.”

“That’s actually a good one.” She grasped his wrist. With a flick of her tongue, she drew his finger into her mouth, to trace a line over the pad. She dragged the digit over her bottom lip before letting go.

His groan settled deep inside her, as tantalizing as any physical contact. He met her gaze. “Antonio’s the only other person left in the building.”

That made her hesitate. Why? Because they used him in their fantasy, Saturday night?

Because she cared what Antonio thought of her. “That’s still one person who could interrupt.”

Justin’s breath caressed her cheek when he whispered, “Be honest.” He nipped her earlobe, then grabbed it between his teeth. “Are you terrified he’ll find out, or turned on by the idea he might walk in on us?”

The way her pulse tore through her veins and her heart pounded to be free, she wasn’t sure there was a difference. “I’m not answering that.” Her reply was breathy.

“I’ll alleviate your ambivalence.” Justin undid her belt and slacks and pushed her pants to the ground. “He’ll be busy for a while.” He grasped her fingers and pulled her forward.

She stepped out of the clothing pooled around her feet, leaving her shoes behind. A flush of self-conscious warmth spread over her when she realized her shirt was open, leaving her exposed in bra and panties, while Justin was still fully clothed.

He raked his gaze over her, finally landing on her face. “Beautiful,” he said with a smile. “Oh, and I have protection.” He grabbed his wallet from his back pocket and pulled out a condom. “I promise this is only for one night. Our working relationship doesn’t have to be impacted. It doesn’t change my opinion of you.”

“Which is good. I don’t know if I could stand you thinking any less of me.” She kept her tone playful, entertained by his disclaimer-like assurances.

He placed his hands on her hips and guided her, as he stepped backward toward one of the couches in the room. “You’re frustrating as fuck.” He kissed her. “I hate your reasons for being here.” He dropped onto the leather cushions. “But don’t think for a moment I don’t respect you. Intellectually and professionally.” He tugged her waist, prompting her to straddle his legs.

“How do you make that sound enticing?” She draped her arms over his shoulders. He’d addressed most of her concerns, and despite the playful bullet list, she believed he meant every one. None of that made this a smart idea, but she wasn’t going to turn back. There was no point in lying to herself about it.

“I’m that amazing.” He slid his hands up her sides, to cup her breasts, then pinched her nipples through her bra.

She arched her back into the rough touch, grinding her mound against his erection, the hard length teasing her through clothing. She was wet enough the dampness would soak through soon.

He pressed his knuckles into the crotch of her panties, digging into her slit and rubbing against her clit in time to her rocking.

“God. I love that look. Mouth slightly parted, chest heaving—right when you’re about come.” His voice dropped an octave.

She couldn’t manage more than a moan. She wavered on the edge of climax, riding a blade of pleasure but unable to tumble to the other side. He increased his pressure and speed, until stars danced behind her eyelids.

“Stop thinking,” he murmured. “Let go.”

The rest of her world swam out of focus, until his voice was the only thing she heard. His touch the only feeling. She dug her fingers into his shoulders, as orgasm tore through her, making her legs weak and her ears ring.

He eased back but didn’t completely let up stroking. The sensations were too much, but she didn’t want to pull away. She was vaguely aware of him tearing the condom from its package, dragging down his zipper—his fingers still pressing into her—and working his cock free to roll the rubber on.

He shoved her panties aside and dipped the bulbous head of his dick between her folds. “So wet. It makes me want to find out what else turns you on.”

She wouldn’t mind that. She should, but she wasn’t supposed to be thinking.

He dragged his cock along her slit, spreading her juices. “I need to fuck you.”

That sounded brilliant. She raised herself enough to let him in, and had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep a cry from escaping when he plunged inside her to the hilt, stretching her out and filling her up.

He set an increasing pace, digging his thumbs into her hips and rocking against her. Each thrust hit the same spot inside, coaxing her toward another peak. When her gasps and sighs grew louder, she clamped down on her tongue, to keep from making too much noise. The bitter taste of copper teased her taste buds, mingling with everything else. She clenched around him when she came again, squeezing his cock. Her head felt like it was filled with feathers.

His steady pounding shifted to hard and rough, skin slapping against skin. His groans became fractured grunts. The noise mingled with the unrelenting pressure, and when he peaked, it drew her orgasm to a dizzying height.

Their frantic rhythm slowed until the only sound in the room were the whir of a computer fan and their sharp attempts to catch their breath.

She buried her face in the crook of his neck, struggling to find her voice. She was close enough to the ink decorating his skin that the vivid colors blurred and bled together in a dizzying array. His light touch on her shoulder made her giggle. “That tickles.”

“Are you going to tell me?” he asked.

If she searched back through their conversation, she might find a point of reference, but she wasn’t ready to turn her brain back on. “Hmm?”

“You said you knew why you went home with me.” It figured he remembered that.

“My hell.” She laughed. “You really are all ego.”

“Not all of me.” He thrust his hips, his semi-erect cock nudging her.

“All right. You’re also scary smart, and passionate enough about what you love to sell it. Even if that thing is you.”

“Now you’re being mean.”

Was she? “That wasn’t my intention. I left the bar with you because you get this look in your eyes when you’re being sincere. Like when you were talking about your tattoos.”

He kissed her cheek. Such a tender gesture, compared to moments ago. “Don’t let that get out. The last thing I need is for people to think I get all doe eyed when I talk about Dark Phoenix.”

A snick filled the room. The door latched open, and she shot her head up. Time slowed to a crawl, as the door swung open and Antonio’s voice carried through. “Next time you’re going to pass me a half-hour time suck, warn me first.” He paused in the doorway, gaze fixed on her and Justin.

A chill blanketed Emily, reminding her how little she wore.

Justin opened his mouth. “Ant—”

“You know what? I don’t care,” Antonio said. “It doesn’t matter to me that you’re fucking each other, but I need assurances it doesn’t bleed into our work. Right now, I don’t believe that. I’m going to close the door long enough for you to get dressed. I’ll be here when you’re both decent, and we’ll all sit down and talk. Look each other in the eye. Discuss if this ends with me going back to Italy.”

Emily’s insides churned into a fine mush as he spoke, but the last bit of his statement knocked her thoughts off-kilter. Where the hell did that come from?

Before Antonio finished closing the door, Justin was prompting Emily to stand. She understood the urgency. There was no part of her that believed for a second she was—or should be—more important than their friendship. But the action still nagged her. Why couldn’t there be a way to walk out of here right now—sneak back to her desk without being seen, grab her purse, and never come back?

At least after this conversation, she wouldn’t be up all night wondering if Justin was going to call Grant and tell him to never send Emily back… for whatever reasons he’d give.

The thought wasn’t as reassuring as she’d hoped. She pulled on her slacks, buttoned her blouse, and grabbed her jacket from the floor. Justin had stripped off the condom and disposed of it. He stood near the door, waiting.

“You good?” he asked.

Not really. The anxiety clawing through her removed most of her mental capacity. Thankfully, it also blocked out her reaction to how incredible he looked with his hair mussed and his shirt untucked. She nodded.

Justin let Antonio back in the room. “Let’s talk, starting with tabling the idea of you leaving and working our way out from there.”

Emily sank into a chair by the table, hoping to keep her distance and wishing the weakness in her legs was caused by leftover euphoria, and not hedging nausea.

To be continued…

Chapter Five – Seven |  Chapter Eleven-Twelve

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