Talking Dirty With the Boss(16)

Why had he kissed her? He still couldn’t work that one out. It was against the rules, the rules he’d instituted to help keep his company running smoothly. Rules he’d gone ahead and broken. Was he quite mad?

Yet when she’d put her underwear in his hand and they weren’t at all like what he expected, the same compulsion that had gripped him at the wedding had hit. He had to taste her mouth. Just…had to.

Cursing, Luke got to his feet and rounded his desk to adjust the chair she’d been sitting in. Made sure it was perfectly positioned next to the other one.

This didn’t happen to him, it didn’t. When he took lovers, he liked to converse with them first because it was only polite. But generally he didn’t think about them outside the bedroom, let alone while he was at work. So what made her different? Was it because he hadn’t taken a lover in a while? A month of buildup could make a man crazy, and crazy definitely wasn’t what he was going for.

Luke brushed invisible lint off the unmarked black leather of the chair, more than a little unsettled. A single kiss he could write off as a momentary lapse in judgment. But twice? That started to seem like intent. Like…

You want her.

He scowled at the chair, moving it a touch more. No. He didn’t. His body did, but there were many things his body wanted that he wasn’t about to let it have. Those urges had to be carefully managed, not indulged willy-nilly. At least they had to be if he wanted to stay in control.

But he couldn’t figure out why he’d responded to her in the way he had in the first place. Women like her didn’t interest him. Blond sexpots who fluttered their lashes and flashed their underwear were more Caleb’s type than his. Even if he did have chemistry with them.

So no, he should not be thinking about her or that intensely arousing kiss. He should be kicking her out of his head and getting on with this meeting. Being late would put his whole schedule out and he hated that. It destroyed his focus, made the OCD that much harder to deal with.

He’d think about something else. Like the latest share prices for that telecommunications company he’d bought. Or the latest bond release for one of the larger portfolios he managed. Or…

Bunnies. On white cotton warm from her body…

He realized his fingers were in his pocket, curled around the pair of panties he’d confiscated from her. Why were they still there? Why had he kept them? And more to the point, what the hell was he going to with them now?

This was not good.

Twice now, he’d lost control around Marisa Clair. Which was unacceptable. It would make things difficult with Joseph and Christie, but Joseph, out of anyone, would understand. The other man had stood by him back in school. Back in the days when everyone thought he was mad.

His intercom beeped, interrupting his thoughts.

“Luke?” His PA sounded slightly puzzled. “It’s been a minute. Are you ready?”

Christ, what was he doing now? Irritation at himself burned in his gut. With an effort he forced it down, stalked back to his desk. As he passed by the window, he caught a glimpse of his dim reflection and noticed a flash of red.

Oh hell. Lipstick on his goddamned mouth.

Wiping furiously at the stain with one hand, he stuck a finger on the intercom button with the other. “Yes. Send them in.”

He would not let Marisa interrupt his day any more than she already had.

You’re not going to be able to concentrate with her knickers in your pocket.

The tightness in his groin refused to go away. If anything, it only got more intense. Dammit. He couldn’t start a meeting with a hard-on.

But it was too late. The door was opening and the Gibson Group representatives were filing in, and he was going to have to get up, shake their hands. Somehow find the laser-like focus he had a reputation for. And all with Marisa Clair’s panties burning a hole in his pocket.

Jesus.

Hoping like hell none of them happened to glance down at the region of his fly, Luke found a tight smile from somewhere and got up to meet them.

“McNamara,” Don Gibson, the CEO, said as they shook hands. “Glad you could make the time. You’ve had a chance to look over the figures?”

“Of course. And I have to say they’re—” He stopped, frowning. The other man was staring at his jacket for some reason. “Anything the matter?”

“You appear to have…” Don Gibson gestured.

Luke looked down and the breath froze in his throat. Somehow Marisa’s panties were hanging halfway out of his pocket, the white cotton and the bunnies leaping gaily all over it in perfect contrast to the dark charcoal of his jacket.

“Shit,” he said before he could stop himself, embarrassment and anger twisting in his gut.