In the Boss' Bed Read online

  Yeah, that forever part was what was most likely going to scare her off.

  Strategy, he reminded himself. He was a master at planning, of maneuvering around the issues, and eliminating them before they became a problem.

  Out of all the business issues he’d circumvented over the years, making sure that Marcy wasn’t scared by his need for her was the most important thing he’d ever done.

  “We’ll go out to dinner tonight. We’ll talk.”

  She smiled, something inside of her stomach tightening even as the terror in her mind eased up. “We’ve been having all of our meals together ever since we started this little investigation.”

  Zeke smiled down at her and kissed her forehead. “Yeah, but we’ll talk about the real issues now. I want to know you, Marcy. The real you.”

  She laughed self-consciously. “I’m not all that interesting,” she told him.

  He chuckled. “I find you endlessly fascinating.”

  Marcy smiled, feeling a warm glow start to burn inside of her. It was different from what she’d been feeling before.

  Tamping down the crazy need to move closer, to press a kiss to the middle of his chest, she stepped back. Far enough so that she couldn’t touch him. “Slower. I can do slower.” She didn’t want to do slower. She wanted to revel in the man and experience everything. But he wanted slower. She could do slower.

  “Why don’t you drink your coffee? I’ll get dressed. We’ll meet and go down to the restaurant for breakfast.”

  Marcy nodded her head, bowing it lower so that he couldn’t see the frustration in her eyes. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. It won’t take me long to be ready.”

  She walked back into the bedroom she’d been using and sighed as she leaned against the closed door. So close! And yet…denied!

  Oh the man was a tease, she thought as she viciously stuffed her feet into her shoes. She wanted to rush back into his bedroom and pound her fists against his chest. She’d never experienced sexual frustration before in her life and, now that she was, she really didn’t like it! Not good, she told herself and yanked her hair off her neck. She pulled it all into a smooth bun on the back of her neck, not wanting to bother with it. Pin after pin were stuffed into her hair. She was being irrational because, yes, slowing down made sense. But then again…another pin went into her hair…she wanted him! He wanted her!

  Unless…

  Stepping out of the bedroom, makeup in place, hair pinned back, feet stuffed into uncomfortable shoes and she looked at him as he sipped coffee and read e-mail off of his computer.

  “Ready?”

  She nodded her head, pulling her eyes away from him. What if she’d just…triggered something in him? What if he was only reacting to a woman throwing herself at him?

  “What just went through your mind, Marcy?” he demanded, moving over to stand in front of her.

  She glanced up at him, then back down, unable to look him in the eyes. “I don’t want you to think that I…well, that you need to…that this…”

  He took both of her hands in his and squeezed gently. “Marcy, if there is any doubt in your mind that I don’t want to spend the entire day in bed with you, then banish it completely.”

  She blushed, but his words made her feel better. “Really?” she asked shyly, smiling nervously.

  “Really,” he laughed and pulled her closer. “In fact, I’ve been trying to get you to notice me as a man instead of as your boss.”

  She shivered. “I’ve known you were a man, Zeke,” she told him with a self-deprecating chuckle.

  He groaned. “We need to have this discussion where other people are around. Otherwise, my good intentions are going to fly out of the window.”

  She felt enormously better with his words. “I really could use a cup of coffee.”

  His hand moved to her cheek. “Not sleeping well?” he asked softly.

  “Not really,” she told him, her fingers clenching together.

  “Why is that?”

  She opened her mouth to answer him, but the honest answer had trouble coming out.

  His fingers gently caressed her skin. “Tell me the truth,” he urged.

  She laughed, amazed that he could read her so easily. “Because whenever I close my eyes, you’re making love to me,” she blurted out, then was shocked that she’d had the courage. A simple, “I’m thinking about you” would have worked just as well!

  “I mean…” she stammered but then stopped herself. The heat in his eyes, the flare of light, caused her stomach to flip with renewed awareness and excitement. She shivered as his fingers curled slightly before smoothing once again on her skin.

  “Don’t take it back. Don’t deny what you’re feeling.” He leaned down, kissing her gently on her lips. “I’m feeling the exact same way.” He laughed. “But I’m guessing my dreams are a bit more erotic than yours.”

  She laughed, shocked once more by his honesty.

  He took her hand and laced his fingers in hers. “We’ll have to compare notes one day. But for now, coffee and breakfast.”

  Marcy happily followed alongside him feeling like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Oh, the sexual tension, the almost visceral awareness of his masculinity, was still there. Still hovering over her. But she felt lighter. More free and able to walk.

  In the dining room, Zeke was greeted with almost reverence and she rolled her eyes as the hostess looked down at the way he was holding Marcy’s hand. The disappointment that quickly shifted to barely veiled jealousy glowed from the woman’s eyes.

  When they were seated at one of the best tables in the house, Marcy couldn’t stop the smile.

  After the waiter had disappeared to put in their order, Zeke stared at her across the table. The nervousness flared right back to life and she fiddled with the linen napkin. Thankfully, he started discussing business and Marcy sighed with relief. Business she could handle. Personal life, not so much. Sexual tension? Sexual fantasies flying through her mind when she should be sleeping? Nope. She couldn’t touch that subject. She firmly believed that there were certain things that were never discussed. Her embarrassing dreams were definitely at the top of that list.

  For the rest of the day, Marcy felt more in her element. She sifted through the files, contracts, and supply orders while Zeke moved through the construction site. She could almost laugh at him walking into a dirty area, his five-thousand dollar shoes and his thousand dollar, silk tie such a contrast to the construction crew who were wearing mud and concrete covered jeans, heavy, steel-toed work boots. But she had to admit, Zeke didn’t look out of place. Even in his tailored suit paired with a hard-hat, he still looked all male, totally confident and in charge.

  She shivered as she stared out the window at the man as he discussed something with the foreman. There was just something about Zeke that called to her.

  Looking down, she sighed and focused all of her attention on the numbers in front of her. She had to get this done, she told herself. Zeke had brought her along to work, not to play. And he definitely wasn’t the kind of man who would respect an employee who couldn’t stop fantasizing about what he might look like without a towel around his waist.

  Marcy shook her head and looked down, forcing her mind to focus. It was hard, but by the end of the day, she’d finally gathered enough information to offer some suggestions.

  At dinner that night, Zeke and Marcy dined with the foreman and construction manager. The architect for the project should have been there, but his wife had gone into labor that morning so he was excused. Between the four of them, they came up with a plan. Marcy outlined a way for the supplies to be ordered in a more efficient manner. When she finished her explanation, the two men looked at each other with awe and surprise. “You’re some sort of efficiency expert?”

  Marcy flushed with their admiration and there was no way she would look over at Zeke. She’d just blush no matter what was in his eyes. “No. It’s just simple business process reengineering. I took several cla
sses in college and found it fascinating.”

  By the end of the evening, the men were eagerly asking her questions on how to implement several of her ideas and she promised to be back at the work site the following day to help both of them and the construction staff. The crew wouldn’t need to know more than the superficial information. But the administrative assistants and the project managers definitely could avoid delays and costly rush orders if they were watching their processes more efficiently.

  After dinner, Zeke walked her to their suite. Closing the door, the tension sprang right back to life.

  Zeke saw Marcy’s shoulders tense and wondered what had just happened. “Tell me more about this process you’ve come up with,” he commanded as he walked behind the suite’s granite topped bar, pulling a bottle of white wine out of the small fridge and opening it. He poured two glasses, handing one to her.

  Marcy took the glass, careful not to touch his fingers. She was afraid any sort of touch might make her clumsier than she already felt.

  They discussed her classes and he gently led her over to the extremely comfortable sofa where there were several pillows to shove around. Somehow, she found herself curled up next to him as they continued their discussion. It was hard to converse with him like this, but he wouldn’t relent. Every time she stopped talking, he would prompt her.

  But then he swung her legs up and over his own. She was so surprised that she almost spilled her wine.

  “Relax, Marcy. We’re just talking.”

  She wanted to glare at him because what they were doing was so much more than talking. And he knew it! He knew that he was making her crazy!

  Oh, then he really messed with her mind. Slipping her shoes off, he started rubbing her sore toes and the arch of her foot. Her toes were one thing, but when his strong thumbs pressed against the arch of her foot, she almost spilled her wine.

  Setting it onto the coffee table in front of her, she grabbed two of the fluffy pillows, holding them in front of her defensively. “What are you doing?” she asked him.

  He smiled and winked at her. “I’m helping you relax.”

  “The wine is doing a good job of that already,” she lied.

  He chuckled, that deep, sexy sound that sent a thrill through her body. That thrill ended right in the core of her and she wiggled, uncomfortable with how her body could so quickly react to just the sound of his voice. Well, and the amazing way his fingers were massaging her foot.

  “Relax, Marcy. Nothing is going to happen tonight. We’re just getting to know each other.”

  She gripped the pillows harder. “That might be part of the problem,” she mumbled.

  He turned to her, his eyes sharp. “What did you say?”

  She could tell by the look in his eyes that he had heard her perfectly. “Zeke, you’re…”

  “Stop talking,” he directed and pressed against her second toe, causing her to gasp with how incredible it felt.

  His strong fingers moved over to her other foot, giving it the same attention. Marcy had to admit that, in a certain way, the massage really did relax her. But relaxing around Zeke really wasn’t a good thing. It meant that she became more aware of him as a man. And since she was always completely aware of him, of his maleness, then her mind simply zeroed in on his fingers against her skin, the male scent of him, the way his jawline was so rough, a dark shadow from his beard coming out.

  “Take off your stockings,” he told her and lowered her legs to the floor.

  “Excuse me?” she squeaked out, her eyes wide as her mind replayed his words over and over again.

  “Take off your stockings. This will feel better if you aren’t wearing stockings.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t think I can do that.”

  He smiled slightly, his hand moving up her calf. “Marcy, very soon, you are going to be completely naked in my bed. I’m going to see and feel every inch of you. I’m going to taste the different parts of your body, make a judgment on which part tastes better, which one makes you squirm more, and which will make you scream my name.” He let those words sink into her sexually frustrated mind for a moment. “So, taking off your stockings now shouldn’t be a problem.”

  And yet, it was!

  “Um…what if I just…”

  He shook his head, his fingers sliding higher under her skirt. “No. I want your stockings off. I want you to get used to me touching you because,” he smiled at her with a wicked look in his eyes, “I’m going to be touching you a lot. Right now, you jump every time I touch you. I want you to relax. Enjoy the touching, the teasing. I want you to feel comfortable around me. So that when we finally reach the bed, you won’t be nervous.”

  “Good luck with that!” she muttered.

  He laughed softly. “Well, I wouldn’t want you to be too relaxed.”

  “Good.”

  “Take off your stockings, Marcy,” he commanded again. And she heard the authority in his voice, shivered at the way it made her feel all soft and warm. Should she feel that way simply because he was ordering her to do something?

  Banishing the thought, she did what felt good. Standing up, she walked into her bedroom and took off her stockings, ignoring the way she could feel his eyes boring into her back. Because she didn’t want him to think she was just rejecting him, she kept the door open and just stepped to the side area where he couldn’t see her, slipped her hands under her skirt and wiggled out of the stockings. She hated them anyway, but they did pull in all the “fluffy” parts of her, keeping her stomach from looking too…soft and round.

  When she walked back into the living room area, her chin jutted upwards since she knew that he could see her face flaming with color. When she sat back down next to him, a significantly larger space between their bodies this time, he didn’t even smirk at her embarrassment. He simply pulled her feet back onto his lap and started once again rubbing her feet.

  “Oh my!” she gasped, her head falling back against the pillows.

  “Here,” he stuffed more of the throw pillows behind her back. “Get comfortable,” he told her and then moved back to rubbing her feet.

  She almost groaned when his fingers started moving along her bare skin. She’d thought it was hard to think when he was rubbing her feet before? It was impossible with his warm fingers pressing against her sore feet with nothing, not even silly nylon, to act as a superficial barrier.

  “Relax, Marcy,” he coaxed as his fingers moved along her skin. “I want you to feel my touch, to enjoy the way we can make each other feel.” When he saw her swallow, her eyes wide with both fear and sexual need, his body throbbed. “Tell me how you like to be touched. What has turned you on in the past?”

  He saw her swallow again but she only shook her head. “While I’m rubbing your feet, would you do me a favor?”

  She nodded, unable to say a word.

  “Take the pins out of your hair,” he told her, watching her feet and he almost laughed when her toes curled slightly with one of his presses. “Feels good?”

  Marcy couldn’t help it when her head fell back against the cushions of the sofa. “Yes,” she moaned, then realized how she sounded and jerked her head back up.

  “Relax, Marcy,” he repeated with that too-sexy voice of his, compounded by another press at a sensitive point in her foot. “Nothing is going to happen tonight. I promise. We’re just exploring and I want to touch you. I’ve wanted to touch you for too long and I’m not giving up the pleasure just yet.”

  She stared at him, those big, blue eyes looking confused but still lustrous with that barely suppressed desire. He loved that about her. She didn’t hide anything from him.

  “But you can’t…”

  “I can,” he contradicted. “Will you take the pins out for me? I love seeing your hair down around your shoulders.”

  Marcy’s hands flew to her hair as she looked into his green eyes. “You like my hair?”

  He laughed softly. “I love your hair. And your eyes, your lips, your body, you
r…”

  She shook her head. “You can’t love my body,” she told him, her hand moving to her stomach as if by doing so, he couldn’t see the softness there. “My body isn’t…”

  He stopped rubbing her feet and took her hands, pulling them away from her stomach. “You have the most amazing figure, Marcy,” he replied, his voice surprised that she didn’t know this. “Are you telling me that you haven’t been walking around in those heels and skirts, not consciously driving me insane?”

  She would have answered him, but the words wouldn’t form. She was captured by his look, by the heat in his eyes that told her he wasn’t lying.

  “You really like my figure?” she whispered in astonishment. The words were too shocking to say with any sort of voice.

  “I love your figure.” He shook his head, astounded. “Marcy, you know that you’re beautiful, right?”

  Marcy’s mouth fell open in shock. “You think I’m beautiful?” Again, another whisper.

  He lifted her up and settled her onto his lap. “I think you’re one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen in my life,” and he stopped any other arguments by simply kissing her. It wasn’t a hard kiss as she would have expected. This was a slow, careful caress. She could feel the muscles in his neck and shoulders tensing, almost as if he were trying to hold back.

  It didn’t matter. A kiss from Zeke, any kind of kiss, was earth shattering. Her world tilted, her mind shut down, and the only focus in her consciousness was Zeke’s lips moving over hers.

  It was unlike any kiss she’d ever experienced. Zeke’s lips were hard and commanding, but at the same time, gentle and persuasive. She never wanted the kiss to end!

  Unfortunately, he lifted his head too soon and she stared into his green eyes, begging him to just carry her into his bedroom and make love to her. She was terrified at the idea, but if he would just…take charge, then she wouldn’t be scared any longer. She wanted to just get it over with, to find out if her erotic dreams could possibly live up to the reality.