Heat Wave Box Set: Volumes I-III Page 3

  “My name is Jamie,” I finally managed to squeak out. It wasn’t in my character to be coy, but then this man seemed to bring out a lot of traits I never knew I had.

  “I’m Beck.”

  “Why am I not surprised,” I said aloud, but hadn’t really meant to. Beck, I repeated in my mind, a mind that was darting back and forth. Do I say no and live with the regret or do I say yes and . . . live with the regret? For a brief second, I asked myself what Rebecca would have done. Right after high school, she’d dated a guy named Adam, who had more tattoos than skin, an ear plug in each lobe and a motorcycle that gave my mom a stroke every time the bike rumbled up our street. I’d sit in the kitchen and watch Rebecca race down the front steps and climb onto the bike, looking over the moon happy. I’d shake my head in disapproval, but deep inside, I wished that I’d been the one climbing onto the back of that bike. “Yes.” The word came out almost as if I hadn’t produced it. “Just for a burger. Maybe I’ll just follow you in my car.”

  “Suit yourself. But it’ll be a lot more fun on the back of my bike.”

  Live a little, Jamie. That’s why your life got sucked into a hole of boredom. “All right. I’ll go on the bike.”

  He stepped back from the car.

  Before I opened my car door, I grabbed up my phone and my purse. “And I’ll send a quick text to my assistant. She knows you work for the window washing company, so if I disappear, she’ll know where to send the police.”

  He laughed. “Fair enough.”

  My legs felt a bit like wet noodles as I stepped out of the car. He was tall, even taller than I’d imagined, and I’d imagined tall. I wondered briefly if everything else I imagined would be bigger too. And again, I’d imagined big.

  He took a moment to survey me from head to toe. “You’re just as gorgeous in person as you are under glass.”

  I chuckled. “Under glass? You make me feel like a piece of art in a museum.”

  “I think I could definitely categorize you as a work of art.” He walked to his bike and handed me his helmet.

  I reached up and pulled out my bun, and he smiled appreciatively, as he had this morning. “Much better. Although, the school teacher look is kind of a turn on.”

  I pulled on the helmet. “Won’t you get a ticket?” I asked, but then wanted to kick myself for always letting that nerdy side of me come out.

  He got on the bike and peered at me over his shoulder. “I’ll try not to get caught. Now hike up that skirt, climb on and wrap those silky thighs around me. I’m hungry.”

  Chapter 4

  The bike vibrated beneath us. After the first mile or so of being terror stricken as we glided along through the evening traffic and watching the hard, skin-removing asphalt slide past in a rough black blur, I began to relax. I’d been gripping his shirt as if my tenuous hold on the thin cotton fabric would keep me from flying off the back of the bike. Eventually, my hands flattened and my palms pressed against his rock hard stomach. His back and shoulders were so broad, I had to lean my head to one side to see where we were headed. For the first half of the trip, I’d tried my damndest to keep a respectable amount of space between my front and his back. But the bumps in the road were constantly launching me against him and every time my breasts rubbed against his back, I would feel it through my whole body. And while the loud motor of the bike had made conversation impossible, I was sure I’d heard him laugh a few times when my body accidentally pressed against his. After some struggle, I finally gave in and allowed myself the luxury of resting against his body. It was rock hard, warm and everything I craved in a man. It was as if some giant confederation of horny women had gotten together, constructed a list for the perfect male specimen and sent their proposal up to God or whoever the top honcho in charge of male construction was.

  We turned a corner and rode along a quiet street that paralleled the freeway. The peaceful, tree lined neighborhood, complete with quaint houses and white fences, was like a different world from the steel and glass forest we’d just left. I rarely left the center part of the city, and while I knew these tiny, out of the way neighborhoods existed, they were beyond my world. Looking at the cute houses, with their painted mailboxes, blossoming trees and welcome mats, I realized how cold and harsh my world had become. Everyone in my apartment building had to have the same gunmetal gray, a choice of the interior designers and a poor choice at that, no decorations were allowed. Not even for the holidays. The community mailbox in the lobby was the same shade of gray but with black numbers. At one point, I’d asked if I could paint a tiny yellow daisy on mine so I could find it easier in the massive array of rectangular boxes. I was told no.

  The smell of grilled onions wafted toward us as we rolled through the humid evening air toward a small hut with peeling paint and a gravel parking lot, a parking lot that was brimming with cars. There was a line of customers at the order window that snaked through the same lot.

  A layer of perspiration had formed where our two bodies had been pressed together. While the open air ride had cooled my skin some, the second we were at a standstill, the sticky heat of the early evening surrounded me. I took off the helmet. He smiled at me as I made a quick attempt to revive my hair.

  “Do I look extremely dorky?” I asked as I ran my fingers through the strands.

  “Darlin’, you couldn’t look dorky if you tried.” He stepped closer, and I realized, even after the intimate moment I’d shared with him, or rather with myself but with him involved by proxy, this was the closest I’d been to him. He was so handsome it was almost hard to believe he was real. Behind the window, he could have been some beautiful man on my flat screen or splayed across a movie screen, but standing in person, he was nothing short of breathtaking. Unexpectedly, he reached up and brushed a curl of hair off my face. His calloused fingertips trailed slowly from my forehead to my temple. Once the rogue hair was tamed back, he allowed his fingers to caress my cheek. There was something so right and so comforting about his touch, my eyes drifted shut with the feel of it. His hand fell away from my face. I opened my eyes.

  “There it is,” he said quietly.

  “There what is?” I reached up. “Do I have a bug in my hair?”

  His deep laugh felt like cool water on this blistering hot day. “That glint of sadness,” he continued. “These green eyes should never look lost like I saw this morning.” He moved even closer, and the heat from his body now competed with the surrounding air. The fresh scent of soap clung to his skin, and I wondered if I was still in my office, fast asleep on my couch dreaming all this.

  My throat tightened. “I’m not lost,” I protested with little conviction.

  “Not anymore. Because I found you.” He took hold of my hand and led me to the order line. He glanced my direction. “You look like the kind of girl who is not afraid to down a double cheeseburger with onions in front of a guy.” I was still reeling from what he’d just said about me being lost. It took me a few seconds to comprehend his last statement. I was relieved about the change in topics.

  “That obvious, huh?”

  Chapter 5

  The white bags were nearly dripping with grease, and I hadn’t realized how hungry I was until we had the food in hand. Several rusted picnic tables had been stuck in no particular pattern around the lot, but they were filled with people enjoying burgers, shakes and the occasional breeze.

  Beck glanced around at the tables. “My house is just a few blocks away, and my kitchen table isn’t covered with graffiti.” This casual burger date had suddenly become dinner at his home. I hesitated. For fucksake, Jamie, you yanked your panties off and made yourself come right in front of the man. Stop with the right and proper shit.

  I nodded. “All right.”

  A short trip along the same street brought us to a cozy, yellow house with brick planter boxes and white trim. He pulled the motorcycle up a steep drive
way and parked. I’d been holding the food. He took the bag in one hand and offered me the other to help me off the bike. Riding in the skirt, I’d managed to keep the hem no shorter than a mini skirt, but getting on and off was a whole different matter. Once both of my shoes were on the ground, I pulled the skirt back down.

  He smiled at my modesty. “Uh, I’ve already seen the panties, or did you forget?”

  I followed him to the front door. “Could we just pretend that we only met just now in the parking lot?”

  He put the key in the door. “Why?”

  “I need to push this morning’s little slide into exhibitionism behind me.” I stepped inside the house. It was simply furnished with a brown leather couch, extremely large flat screen television and a set of barbells in one corner. A man’s place, for sure.

  He stopped and turned around to face me. Two of his fingers pushed beneath my chin. He lifted my face to his. “Don’t apologize for this morning anymore. All right?”

  I looked into his eyes, and thought, this man could ask anything of me and I’d do it. And that notion sent a shiver through me.

  It didn’t escape his notice. “You can’t possibly be cold.”

  “No.” This time I was the one conveying a message with just my eyes. “I’m not cold at all.”

  The extra appealing lines on the side of his mouth creased. “Let’s eat.”

  I followed him into the kitchen. An old wooden table with four mismatched chairs took up a small breakfast nook. The kitchen counter had an impressive pyramid of empty beer cans, three apples and a cereal box. He put the food on the table. “Beer or soda? Sorry, I don’t have any green tea.”

  “Why are you sorry about that?” I walked to the kitchen window and peered out. A nice deck was built off the back of the house. There was a barbecue and three foldable chairs propped open around a fire pit.

  “Just thought you looked like a green tea sipper.”

  “Water is good, and yes, I do order green tea at restaurants. So give yourself another point. You’re either very perceptive, or I’m extremely transparent and a little stereotypical.” I pulled out a chair. It wobbled beneath me.

  “Maybe both,” he said confidently. He placed a glass of ice water in front of me, popped open his soda and slunk down on a chair. His long legs stretched out beneath the table. The toe of his black motorcycle boot tapped the tip of my shoe. He didn’t pull his boot away. “I think you’re transparent only because you’re playing the part of high caliber business woman.” He unwrapped his burger and continued his psychoanalysis. “But, I think, deep down, there’s another side to you that no one else knows about . . . not even you.”

  I laughed, but it was a nervous, slightly annoyed sound. “I guess spending your day looking in on everyone’s personal offices makes you an expert on character analysis.”

  “You’re pissed.”

  I picked at the bun of my burger, suddenly not as hungry as I thought. “No, I’m not pissed. I just think you’re making wild accusations about me based on—” I froze. I hadn’t just been working in my office. I’d allowed the man to sit in on something intimate. My face burned with a blush.

  His boot left my shoe as he sat up straighter and leaned forward. “Admit it, Jamie. You enjoyed this morning. Standing naked in front of me, a stranger out on a window washing scaffold. That fucking turned you on. I know it turned me on.” He chuckled, but it wasn’t mocking or derisive. “Hell, I couldn’t stop thinking about you all damn day. I thought, shit, I have to find her. I have to meet her.” He pointed at me. “This morning— that was the other girl sitting in your office chair, with her legs spread and inviting, no begging, me to watch. She’s there, waiting to be set free.”

  I lifted my burger and peered at him over the bun. “Bullshit.” I took a bite, chewed and swallowed. “Good burger.” I put on my best business face. It was the stony face I’d perfected for the boardroom. “It was the heat. I wasn’t myself. That’s all there was to it. Of course, it helped having this,” I waved my hand at him and continued, “descend from the heavens like a Greek god. You knew exactly what you were doing when you took off your shirt.”

  “Oh, so it was my chest and the lack of air in your office that made you strip off your panties and finger fuck yourself.” He was meeting my harsh tone straight on and his words made me flinch. But I was no longer embarrassed.

  I dropped the burger on the wrapper. “Thanks for dinner. Don’t get up. I can call a cab.”

  I fought back the tears in my eyes. There was no damn way I was going to let this man see me cry. One humiliation a day was enough.

  I walked to the front room and rummaged through my bag for my phone. His nearing footsteps flustered me more, and my purse fell to the ground. “Damn it.” I stooped down to retrieve it. As I straightened, his arm went around my waist. His other hand reached up and pushed my hair over to the side. And I didn’t stop him. His touch was exactly as I’d expected it, raw and real. The second his mouth pressed down on the side of my neck, the tears I’d worked so hard to hold back, broke free. And for the second time that day, I let this man see a side of me I’d always kept hidden from the world, the vulnerable side that I’d held down. Vulnerable didn’t work in the business world.

  “Shh,” he said. “It’s all right, darlin’.”

  He turned me around in his arms and wiped a stray tear with his thumb. He stared down at my lips. “When I looked into that office today, I thought there’s no fucking way she’s real. Dressed in that high class, slightly uptight suit, those legs and those fucking high heels dangling over the arm of your chair as you stroked yourself. God, that pussy. That glorious fucking pussy. All I could think was that I wanted to be in that office, knelt down between those legs, with my mouth—” His mouth came down hard over mine. I clutched at his shirt to steady myself.

  His strong arms went around me, and he pulled me hard against him. We kissed until I was so breathless, the room spun. Knocked nearly witless by his mouth devouring mine, I struggled to keep my balance. He stared at me, his eyes deep blue with hunger. His finger reached up and took a gentle hold of the top of my blouse.

  “Is this blouse special to you?” he asked. It was a strange question, and again, with my head in a muddle, it took me a second to decipher his words.

  “I buy them in bulk,” I answered.

  “Good.” The sound of ripping fabric snapped through the air as he tore the blouse open.

  I gasped and stepped back, but he grabbed hold of my wrist. My heart was pounding and I wasn’t completely sure it was fear. Then, with a gentleness that contradicted the fact that he’d just ripped open my blouse, he pressed his large, calloused palm tenderly against the side of my face. He lowered his face next to mine, and his mouth came down next to my ear. “You are safe with me, darlin’. You might scream a few times, but it won’t be from fear.” His voice was low and smooth and the sound of it along with his breath brushing my ear caused my pussy to moisten. I clenched my fingers into a fist, wanting to touch him, but not sure if I should. I’d talked myself into coming here, but the logical, sensible part of my mind was struggling to give into . . . into the needs of the other woman, the one who he’d watched through my office window. He’d been right. He hardly knew me, and, yet, he’d been right.

  “If you want me to stop,” he continued, his voice still feeling like a cool caress on my warm skin, “just say so, and we’ll hop on my bike and head back to your car.”

  I closed my eyes, struggling to see which side of me would win. I needed this. I needed something, and I didn’t feel threatened. I was terrified, but not in the bad way. I was terrified that one night with this man I’d just met, but who made every inch of me react physically, wouldn’t be enough. Or maybe it would be too much. I worried that I no longer could feel passion. The business meetings, conference calls and constant deal making had
stripped away that side of me, I was sure of it.

  Then without further thought, I reached for the buttons on his jeans.

  “I’ll take that as my cue to continue.” He reached down, took hold of my hand and lifted it away from his fly. I felt embarrassed. After all this, he didn’t seem to want me. He held tightly to my hand, and with his free hand, he unhooked my bra. “Take off your boss hat, darlin’.” Every time he called me that, a surge of heat raced through me, and I wanted to fall into his arms and have him call me it over and over again. My bra opened and my breasts sprung free. He gazed at them and instantly my nipples hardened.

  He leaned forward and kissed me lightly on the mouth. “I’m in charge tonight.” His words made me tremble.

  He lowered his mouth to my breasts and drew his tongue around my taut nipples. I pressed them harder against his mouth, wanting him to take in more of me. He obliged. I held onto his shoulders to steady myself. This morning, just having his eyes on me had made me so wet between my legs, I’d lost control. Having his mouth on me made me nearly delirious with need.

  “Beck,” I said, “please. I want to touch you.”

  A slightly wicked smile crossed his face. “Soon.” He took my hand and walked me to the wall in his living room. “Turn around,” he commanded. I hesitated before facing the wall. He moved directly behind me. The heat from his body surrounded me as he took hold of both of my hands. He lifted them up and pressed them against the wall. “Don’t move,” he ordered in a deep, authoritative tone that made the cream in my pussy spill into my panties. My entire body shook as I stood there braced against the wall, while this near stranger unzipped my skirt with a slow, teasing precision that made a small cry shoot from my lips. He knew exactly what he was doing as if he’d perfected the art of seducing a woman.