Sugar and Spice: A Karma Café Novella (5 page)

For the first time since he’d known her, Dedra didn’t sound neutral and pleasant.  Cynical and angry were more like it.  Turning to inspect her face, he frowned.  What was going on?

Shit.  Should have kept looking out the window, he decided when he noticed how full and glossy her lips looked.  Like a wet pout, waiting to be kissed into a smile.

“Did you have a date?” he asked, trying to pretend she was wearing a paper bag.  “Something hot and wild going on a Friday night?”

He was shooting for a joking tone, but it came off more pained.  Probably because he was getting hard thinking about Dedra being hot and wild.  But only with him.  Her, hot and wild and anyone else?  That just pissed him off.

“I could have plans,” she said softly, her voice trembling a little as she played with the lace between her breasts.  “It just sort of depends.”

“On what?”  If he knew, maybe he could find a way to throw a monkey wrench in it.  Despite whatever she had planned, he knew
he’d
enjoy his evening a lot more if she stayed here with him.  Maybe they could get some food.  Talk, since there was no TV.  Just hang out.  Maybe she could throw on a trench coat or something, too.  As a favor to his brain cells.

“The plans depend on, well, how I handle things.”  She stood there looking like a vulnerable angel, her hair tumbling like a blonde cloud around her face, nibbling on her thumbnail.  “You see, I sort of have a problem.”

Her voice was so low, almost whisper-soft, that Paul had to lean closer to hear her.  Close enough that her scent, soft and sweet with a layer of sexy woven in, wrapped around him.  His mouth watered and his erection upgraded from hard to concrete.

“Can I help?” he offered, staring into her eyes.  Why had he never noticed that her irises intensified from pale blue on the outside to almost purple around the pupil.  Probably because he’d never let himself get this close before.

“You could help.  Maybe.  I mean, well, I don’t know.”  She threw both her hands in the air, looking about as frustrated as he’d ever seen.

Paul laughed and caught her fingers in his.  They were so delicate.  So warm.  Then he saw the look in her eyes.  Heat, interest.  Sexual awareness strong enough to meet, and even challenge, his own.  His smile faded, but he didn’t let go.

“What could I do?” he asked, his voice dropping.  His fingers tightening.  He leaned in, just a little more.  Her breath caught.  He could see her pulse, frantic and fast as it beat against the fragile line of her throat.

Was she feeling the heat?

Did she want more?

“You could, um...”  Her words trailed off, as if she were too afraid to tell him.  Too nervous.

Since she’d never been nervous to tell him anything, including when she thought he was wrong, stubborn or just being a plain ole idiot, he had to figure it was something more.

Maybe that heat?

Or was that wishful thinking on his part?  Did he care?

Paul decided it was time to do what he did best.  Take charge, damn the consequences and go for what he wanted.

With their hands still entwined, he pulled her against him.  She gasped, her eyes turning molten, her body melting against his.  Soft curves met hard planes, promising a perfect fit.

He took her mouth.

Her glossy, full lips were just as delicious as he’d imagined.  Just as warm.  And so damned welcoming.  He sank into the kiss, losing himself in her taste.

He wanted more.  Needed more.

Running his tongue between her lips, along the edge of her teeth, he took more.

Fast, furious, intense.  His tongue tangled with hers, their lips shifting, sliding, melting together.  Plunging deeper, swirling faster, he took them higher, hotter.

Her moan of delight echoed his own pleasure.

She was delicious.  

Why had he waited so long to taste her?

Because she’s your assistant, you dumbass
.  She works for you, which means sex will only jack things up.  Make it uncomfortable.  Possibly untenable.  Is a romp between the sheets worth the damage it’ll do to your working relationship?

Maybe he’d been right all these years.  Maybe Dedra did have a direct line to his brain.  As if she heard his thoughts, she chose that moment to lean closer, her breasts with their froth of lace pressed softly into his chest.  Her tongue gently traced his lower lip.  His control snapped.

His mouth grew voracious.  His hands pressed down her back to the curve of her ass, cupping, lifting her tight against his burgeoning erection.  When she wrapped one leg around his thigh, hooking her heel behind his calf, he almost exploded.

“More,” he demanded against her mouth.

One hand still on her butt so she couldn’t move away, he used the other to explore that intriguing lace.  Buried there in all that froth was heaven, he discovered as his fingers slid over the silky soft curve of her breast.

This time her moan was more like a purr as she pressed herself tighter into his fingers.  Paul cupped the warm flesh, squeezing gently through the fabric.  Her nipple beaded, hard and tempting, against his palm.

Needing no other invitation, he shoved the material, froth and all, aside so he could get to the good stuff.  He heard a ping from far away, but was too busy moving her toward the wall so he could get some traction to care.

“More,” he demanded again, now that he had her back braced against the wall.  Sweet as sin, her legs automatically wrapped around his waist, hiking the bland skirt high and showing off the lacy tops of her stockings.  Paul gave himself just one second to revel in the sight of tan hose against milky white skin before he dove into the lace-covered bounty of her breasts.  No longer held together with buttons, the lace gaped in welcome around lush curves encased in a white silk bra cut so low, he could see the pale peach of her areola above the fabric.

His mouth watered at the sight.

Pure sexy with a virginal sweetness.  Just like Dedra. Virginal.  Like a bride.

Were brides still virginal?

He knew his wouldn’t be.

Like a sledgehammer upside the head, that little tidbit of information rang out in Paul’s mind.

Damn.  He was supposed to be getting married.

Which meant that this crazy explosion of passion between him and Dedra, as incredible as it was, couldn’t happen.

Figuring it’d be easier to yank off his own arm, Paul pulled his lips away from Dedra’s.  

“This is...”

Incredible.

Fabulous.

The greatest turn on he’d ever experienced.

“This isn’t something we should be doing,” he said with a sigh.  Then, because he didn’t think he could handle the temptation otherwise, he set her aside.

And stepped away.

Then, just to be safe, he moved to the other side of the room.

“You didn’t enjoy it?” she asked, her lips swollen and glossy, her eyes heavy with desire.  Her nipples so hard they almost poked right through the white fabric of her shirt.

Paul groaned.

“Enjoy?  Babe, there isn’t a word strong enough to express how great that kiss was.  But we work together.  We’re a team, you and me.  If done right, sex could seriously mess things up between us.  If done wrong, it’ll mess it up even more.”

“What’s sex done wrong?”  She frowned.

“I don’t know,” he quipped.  “I’ve never done it wrong.”

Her smile was fleeting and bright, fading as fast as it flashed.  Her fingers twined together at her waist, the move emphasizing her breasts, making him want to say screw work, he was through making sacrifices for that damned company.

“And you’re getting married,” she said softly.  “Let’s not forget that little detail.”

“Yeah, there’s that, too.”  He grimaced.  Since it was that very detail that had kept his mouth off her breasts, he wasn’t likely to forget anytime soon.

“Can I just ask one thing?”  She waited for his nod, then tilted her head to one side.  “Do you want me?”

Chapter Five

I
t was all she could do not to slap her hand over her mouth to try and grab the words back.  Dedra was pretty sure that was the ballsiest question she’d ever asked in her entire life.  She swallowed hard, still tasting him, and that delicious truffle, on her tongue.

What had happened?  She’d hoped he’d make the first move, that he’d take the choice out of her hands.  Either quickly hit on the sexed up new version of her, or tell her to go home.  One or the other, but never had she thought to be the aggressor.

Her breathing shallow and shaky, she blinked fast to clear the spots from her eyes.  She should go.  Now, before something crazier, like
let’s do the naked tango
, popped out of her mouth.

Then she saw the look in Paul’s eyes.  Dark and intense, it was like looking into pure sexual fire.  Her nerves started to relax, but her body didn’t.

“Do I want you?  Just about as much as I want my next breath,” Paul admitted.  His voice was bedroom sexy.  Low, husky and hinting at passion.  But frustration furrowed his brow and his fists clenched, like he was preparing to fight off the temptation, kick its butt for having the temerity to force that confession.  “But us, together?  As good as it would be, it’s a really bad idea.”

His gaze swept over her again, like a hot wave.  Teasing, tantalizing.  Her nipples tightened, beading against the silky lace of her bra.  Liquid desire pooled, sticky sweet, between her thighs.  She wanted him so much.  She’d wanted him for years, but now that she’d had a taste?  There was no way she was getting on that plane at midnight without having more.

“Paul—” she started to say.

“No,” he interrupted.  “Look, I’m sorry.  But this would be a mistake.”

He paced in front of the window, glaring at the view of the Golden Gate instead of looking her way.

“We’ve got a great relationship.  You’re the best assistant I’ve ever had.  Hell, you could run the company, and often do, when I’m not available.  I can’t risk losing you.”

“But—”

“No,” he said again, throwing his palm out, but still not looking her way.  Instead, after a second to make sure she’d obey his request for silence, he shoved both fists in his pockets and continued to stare at the bridge while listing all the reasons they couldn’t, shouldn’t and wouldn’t give in to this sudden passion.

Dedra had to respect a man who could insist he wasn’t having sex while sporting a mammoth hard-on.  Her eyes locked on the impressive erection, she took a deep breath, then decided to ignore him.

What was he going to do?  Fire her?

Laughing silently, she reached behind her and with fingers that only shook a little, unhooked, then unzipped her skirt.  Instead of falling to the floor, like her usual size would, this one required a bit of wriggling.  Staring at the back of Paul’s head as he droned on with his lecture, she grimaced and squirmed her way out of the skirt.  

Habit, and a whispering worry that she might need to grab it and run, had her folding it neatly over the back of a chair.

“We’d be great together.  No question about it.  We do everything else so well, there’s no way sex between us wouldn’t be off the charts.  You always know what I want before I do, and I can read you like an open book.  That spells good times.  But we can’t do it,” he said, shaking his head.

Dedra’s fingers froze on the last button of her blouse as she waited, wondering if he was going to turn around and catch her mid-strip.  Instead, he pulled one fist out of his pocket and started pounding, a steadily frustrated beat, against the windowsill.  And, of course, continued to list the reasons why they wouldn’t be having sex.

Since he’d started repeating himself, and listing things like her knowledge of how he liked his coffee and how she could always charm his management team into playing nice at the Christmas parties, she figured it was safe to interrupt.

“You’re right,” she said softly.  “Except for one little thing.”

“What’s that?”  He turned to face her just as she shrugged the soft fabric of her blouse loose from her shoulders.

Excitement and nerves intertwined, shimmering around her as she stood in just her white silk and lace underwear, stockings, garter belt and high heels.

The frown on his face froze.  His mouth dropped.  He closed his eyes as if in prayer, then opened them again and shook his head.  His gaze hot enough to spark fire, he took an involuntary step toward her.  Then, as if his willpower grabbed ahold, he stopped with a grimace.

Dedra took a deep breath.  Time to step it up or give it up.  She felt like she was watching herself in one of her many sexual fantasies.  She’d said things to Paul, done things, before.  But only in her mind.  She’d never had the nerve in real life.  Somehow, all the filters were gone now.  The caution, the good sense.  Even the nerves and fear.  All that was left was the fantasy.

And since that’s all she had left, she figured she’d be an idiot not to enjoy every second of it.

Her eyes locked on his.  Following her favorite fantasy script, she gave him her most wicked smile, and reached up to pull the three strategic pins from her hair.  As the blonde curls fell, a fluffy cloud around her bare shoulders, she reached one hand between her breasts and, taking a deep breath, unhooked the front clasp of her bra.

“The thing is,” she said in a sexy, siren’s tone she hadn’t even known she had.  “I’m not leaving until we find out if we’re as hot and wild together as I think we’ll be.”

Paul could barely think.  His brain was filled with lusty images and all the blood had surged south, feeding an erection that was ready to do a happy dance at Dedra’s words.

She wasn’t leaving until he gave into his body’s urges and touched her.  Tasted her.  Had her.

Well then
, his body insisted,
get to it
.  
The lady has spoken
.  But his brain, that damned logical part of him, screamed caution.  Since he’d already let that part have its say, though, in a long, drawn out lecture, he figured it’d had its turn.

Now it was his body’s time.

Slowly, he crossed the shaggy carpet until he was inches away from Dedra.  Her eyes, big and blue, stared up at him in a combination of trust and lust that made him a little crazy inside.  Like she’d let him do anything he wanted, and had total faith he’d make it good for her.