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The second that I mount the steps to the portacabin I’m texting my brother, telling him to call me right now. He’s gone radio silent so I know that he knows exactly what’s up.
There’s a chick on site.
When did she arrive? Did Jace see her last night?
Is shemeantto be here?
Hell no. Her being here is way too dangerous. She could… hurt herself. The picture of her clutching a towel around her shower-flushed thighs, hot sparkling water droplets trickling down her arms, sucker-punches me square in the stomach. I rake a hand across my scalp as I kick out the chair behind my desk and I heave my body down onto it. I rest my elbows on the table, steepling my fingers into a fist and then knocking them in a gentle thud against my forehead.
There has clearly been some sort of mix-up. Maybe she had planned to vacation here for the fall and the admin team forgot to reschedule her stay for after New Year’s. It doesn’t matter – I’m going to fix this. Get this chick off base so that no-one gets hurt and this project gets finished ahead of schedule.
No distractions.
I stretch the muscles in my back. This is not what I needed for my first day as project lead. But she’ll be coming to the office soon so we can get this situation sorted and then everything will go back to exactly the way that it was. It will.
I try to unclench my jaw.
It. Will.
I need to occupy myself with something that doesn’t involve glancing every ten seconds through the open door, searching for pretty eyes and long legs at the base of the tree-line. I throw my file open with more forcefulness than I intend, attempting to make sense of the words on today’s agenda.
Yeah, that’s not happening. Something primal has just been flicked in my brain and suddenly all I can think about is that hot young distraction. Is she going to come and see me in the office? Is this the last time that I’ll ever see her? Is she wearing any clothes yet?
Damn. I pinch the bridge of my nose with my fingers as I try to uncoil the tight flex in my abdomen. Then I remember that these fingers were just tucked into the gusset of some red lace panties and suddenly I’m looking at my hand like I need to hack it off.
I feel guilty as sin. Accident or not, that was not okay – and speaking ofnot okay, let’s talk about how my body is responding right now. I’m getting hot under the collar and my palms are flexing like they need to be filled with something. Someone.
Growling, I throw myself upright and storm across the cub, yanking open the blinds on each of the windows. Maybe some morning light will help scorch the thoughts of wet womanly thighs from my brain. But when I reach the final pane I suddenly catch a glimpse of a woman’s figure – lithe and golden, with her hips swaying from side to side – and I’m so ready to combust that I literally tear the entire valance off the wall. The slats unravel like a dam breaking free and I blink down at it, trying to think of what the hell I’m supposed to do now.
My eyes flash back up to her. She’s closer than she was before, probably only about thirty feet away. She spots me at the window and tucks a soft tendril behind her ear. I toss the shutter to the corner of the room and then make my way straight over to the entrance.
On second thoughts, I glance down to the front of my cargo pants. Okay, so she’s gotten to me. She’s a beautiful woman and my body damn well wants to remind me of that fact.
Fine, I won’t greet her at the door. I gesture to her from the frame, signalling that she can come inside, and then I make my way back to the desk, rubbing a hand down my jaw as I think of how I’m going to handle this situation. I sit and spread my thighs apart to give my lower body the expansion room that it needs but then, after a long groan of relief, I realise that I can’t do that with this woman sat directly opposite me. I swallow down my ache and shift my legs a little closer together.
Fuck no, that ain’t happening. I skirt the chair right under the desk and allow my legs to splay as wide as they want. I almost grunt with satisfaction. The perfect crime.
I try to quickly clear the work surface as she gently pads up the stairs, mainly so that I can compose myself before I have to meet her eyes again. Eyes that not more than fifteen minutes ago were looking down at me as I fell on her warm unmade quilt, panting like a motherfucker as I got a handful of sexy red lingerie. And I swear that, in that moment, there was something heated in her eyes too – like maybe she wanted me to stay on the bed so that she could climb aboard. Get those soft soaked thighs straddling my lap. Drop the little towel and give me a morning to remember.
Jesus Christ. I grab a pen from the holder as she breaches the entryway and I stab the lid straight into my quad.Get it together, asshole. She’s not for you.
She points to the chair in front of me.
I nod and press the lid in a little harder.
She’s wearing a cream zip-up jumper and a pair of jeans that make my temples throb. She turns slightly, her hand reaching for the doorknob, and I almost flip the table over to stop her from what she’s about to do.
“No, please – leave the door open.” The side-shot of her perky behind is enough to make me firmly reiterate myself, stating loud and clear, “Do not close the door.”
It’s just turned October but one step inside my office and the whole place smells like summer. Where did this girl come from? I need to get her a First Class flight back there as quickly as possible.
I’m about to take the lead with this conversation when she suddenly sits down, arches her spine and says, “I think that there’s been a misunderstanding.”
My brow dips in the middle. Technically, that was going to be my line. I try not to focus on her sweet raspy voice as I unclip the project itinerary from the front of my folder, instead honing in on the little flash of lightning flickering behind her eyes.
She crosses one knee over the other and I have to physically restrain myself from letting my eyes drop down to her lap. “I’m not here to holiday,” she explains, her demeanour calm and composed. “I’m here to supervise.”
I’m no longer interested in the paperwork. Did she just say what I think she said or am I having an auditory hallucination? When I scan her face she doesn’t look like she’s kidding. In fact, she looks like I’m annoying her.
