“My client recommended this place. He said they take care of their guests,” he spoke in a knowing tone, as if he could read her mind. She really hoped he couldn’t because she thought about him naked, in her bed, doing wonderful things with her, at least ten times a day.
She began chopping vegetables while her mind wandered. She realized, as she stood there, that she’d never had a man at her house before. She’d never done something so simple as to prepare a meal with the opposite sex. Max was humming a song she didn’t recognize, and the scents were drifting around them. She found she liked the sensation of cooking with someone else. She had to remind herself this was strictly business, not a date, before she got too comfortable in her little fantasy.
“You can go relax in the living room if you’d like. I can finish this,” she offered. She didn’t want him to leave but she was getting too comfortable with their domestic roles.
“Nope, I’m known for my excellent steaks. I can’t leave them or they’ll get ruined,” he said with another of his signature grins.
“Suit yourself,” she told him as if it didn’t matter one way or the other. As they prepared dinner in the small kitchen he seemed to brush up against her no matter how she moved about. His hip would graze hers one minute, then he’d reach into a cupboard above her, his chest sliding along her back. By the time they finished making the meal she’d be reduced to a pile of ashes.
“You seem awfully nervous. Haven’t you ever cooked a meal with a date before?” he asked.
“This isn’t a date - we’re only here for work. Technically, on this trip you’re my boss, so saying things like that doesn’t help me to feel more comfortable,” she scolded him. She needed to remind both him and her of that fact.
Her little speech wiped the cocky grin from his face. He sent her a glare, seemingly not happy about her pointing out the facts to him.
“Sorry, I didn’t need to snap like that, it’s just that we’re in this cabin, and I’m nervous,” she admitted. She didn’t want to fight with him - she just wanted to create some distance, before she ended up jumping on the counter and demanding he take her. Why couldn’t she just be like Darcy Undermost, back in high school, who would jump any guy that asked? She was thinking that at least the girl got some pleasure, even if everyone called her a slut.
She could see he accepted her apology when his sexy smile overtook his features and he moved forward, brushing her forever disobedient hair out of her face. His fingers lingered, as they often did when he performed the task.
Max barely kept himself from taking her in his arms. He could see her relief that he accepted her apology. He didn’t want to fight with her, either. He was sick of fighting with her and himself. He decided he needed to end the torture for both of them. He knew she was interviewing him, and technically for this trip he was her boss, but he couldn’t seem to think anymore when she was around. He never had office affairs, never slept with an employee, but this was a special case and he was losing the battle to resist her.
He found he enjoyed her company, he liked how she wasn’t afraid to stand up to him. Most of all, he liked that she wasn’t pulling out all the stops to seduce him. As a matter of fact, she was doing just the opposite, hiding her body beneath the unflattering pajamas, not wearing make-up, or even trying to appear sexy.
She’d be disappointed to know none of it was working. She looked far sexier to him in her flannels than she would’ve looked in lingerie. She just had a natural sex appeal that wouldn’t stop calling to him, and in the remote cabin he had no desire to fight it. He felt the tightening in his pants, and turned from her.
“Would you like a glass of wine?” he asked. She nodded her head, yes. He was sure she was thinking the same as him - maybe a little drink would help calm the nerves. He sure hoped so, or he wouldn’t make it past dinner.
They both went back to their tasks, but it wasn’t long when he felt the need to be close to her again. He gave up all pretenses of keeping away.
“Mmm, that looks good,” he softly spoke into her ear, leaning over her and peering into the bowl. It’s just a salad, not a gourmet dish, she though, but he leaned the full length of his body into her backside, and she tensed. His breath brushed against her neck, making her shiver.
“Thanks,” she muttered, wanting him to lower his lips to her neck and run his tongue along the skin his breath had just moistened.
You need to calm down and relax. He’s just like any other guy, she silently commanded. She took a few deep breaths and moved sideways, out of his grip. She set the table, and sat down, creating a barrier between them.
Max brought the steaks and potatoes and their conversation stilled for a moment as they began to eat. As hungry as she’d been earlier, her stomach was so tied in knots she barely managed to get anything down. She moved her food around her plate, and then grinned. She was thinking Kinsey would get a real kick out of the situation.
“What’s so funny?” he asked.
“I was thinking about my best friend. She’ll be home in a month and I can hardly wait,” she told him honestly.
“You mentioned her in the hospital. Have you been close a long time?”
“Forever. I can’t remember my life without her in it. We went through school together, and then college. She’s a nurse and out to save the world. I know what she does is important, but I’m selfish and just want her with me,” she said.
“I can understand that. My siblings, cousins, and I used to be closer than just family. We did everything together. Then, my mother died, and my siblings and I drifted apart. We all hurt so badly and were trying to somehow outrun the pain. My father forced us into this move back to Seattle, and though we won’t admit it to him, it’s the best thing that could’ve happened. We’re all right back where we used to be. It’s important to have people in your life that you care about,” he said.
Cassie stared at him in shock. She’d never heard him say something so personal about his life. It had to be the wine and the intimate atmosphere. She was sure he’d regret being so open with her, come morning.
“I’d love to have a family as large and loving as yours. Everyone I’ve met so far are wonderful,” she said. He smiled his approval.
“We can be a tad overwhelming.” From what she’d heard, the Anderson’s as a group were quite the sight. She’d love to see it, though she knew she wouldn’t get the opportunity.
“Overwhelming is much better than empty,” she said, fighting the sudden tears wanting to spring to her eyes.
“Let’s leave this mess until morning. I want to enjoy the fire,” he told her as he stood and stuck out his hand. She hesitated only a moment before taking it. He grabbed the wine bottle and led her to the couch facing the fire.
She sat on the far end, sipping from her glass, letting the flames lull her into a sense of security. When he spoke again, she jumped.
“How long have you wanted to be a reporter?”
“I think since I was twelve. We went to outdoor school, and when we got back one of our assignments was to create a newspaper about our week at camp. I really got into the project. I went around and interviewed the different teachers who had chaperoned, got my film developed from all the pictures I’d taken, and even got quotes from the kids. The other students in my group were thrilled to be paired with me because they didn’t have to do much on the project. I did the complete layout of the paper, provided all the photos, and did most of the stories. I was really picky, even in sixth grade,” she said with excitement edging through her voice.
“Aah, you were that kid.” Her hackles immediately rose. There was absolutely nothing wrong with being smart and caring about your grades. Not everyone was handed millions of dollars when they reached adulthood.
“I worked hard,” she said in defense.
“Hey, I wasn’t putting you down. I was that kid, too,” he said, throwing his hands up. She looked at him suspiciously. He was gorgeous, with his chiseled features, bright eyes, and a to die for body. There was no way he was one of the smart kids. He was most likely the jock every girl wanted to date and every guy wanted to be.
“Yeah right,” she said with a smirk.
“Seriously, I was only five-six until my junior year of high school and weighed about one-hundred pounds. I was president of the chess club, and…” he paused for dramatic effect, “was a complete klutz. My siblings all hit their prime long before me, making me a bit self-conscious at the time,” he said.
Cassie stared at him, not knowing whether she could believe him or not. She just couldn’t picture him as some nerdy kid that would’ve sat with her at lunchtime. He had to have been the jock, no way could someone who looked like he did now, ever be scrawny.
“I promise to show you a picture when we get back, I was voted most likely to trip and fall down a manhole,” he said with a twinkle in his eye.
“If you’re lying to me right now, I swear you’ll pay for it in my article,” she threatened. Her words made him laugh. She realized her glass was empty and set it down. It had been a long night, and though she knew she wasn’t going to get any sleep, she decided to go to her room. She couldn’t continue sitting with him in the dim light, sharing intimate moments of their lives. She stood and moved to walk around him, when her foot snagged on the corner of the couch and she lost her balance. She tumbled straight into his lap. His laughter died instantly, as his eyes flared with awareness.
Cassie didn’t move an inch. She could feel his hard thighs beneath her, his chest pressed against her aching breasts, and his breath on her face. His mouth was only a couple inches from her own. She stared into his eyes before hers dropped and took in his very kissable mouth. He let out a grown before wrapping his hand tightly around her waist, pulling her even closer. He used his other hand to slip up her back and grip her neck, pulling her head the last two inches, and finally, their lips connected.
She could taste the sweet wine on his lips mixed with his own intoxicating scent. She didn’t even try to fight the kiss she wanted so desperately. She melted into him, bringing her hands up around his strong shoulders, clinging to him.
He quickly slipped his tongue into the hollow of her mouth, retreating, before diving back in. After ravishing her mouth, he pulled back slightly and nipped her bottom lip, before tracing her jaw with tiny kisses. He moved down the smoothness of her neck, swiping his tongue along the sensitive skin between her neck and shoulder, making her shudder with need.
His hands began exploring her back, softly moving up and down the small dent. He slipped his hand underneath her pajama top, his fingers caressing her side, slowly moving upward, making her arch into him. She could feel his arousal growing underneath her, and seductively moved her hips, pressing tighter against him. He groaned into her neck at the new friction she was creating.
He brought his lips back to hers and devoured her mouth, dancing his tongue with hers, while his hands continued their upward movement. She could barely breathe between the passionate kiss and the feelings of arousal his hands were creating. Finally, his hands circled around her side, brushing the underside of her braless breasts, making her cry out in need. She didn’t want him to play anymore. She wanted his hands to move those last few inches and cup her sensitive skin.
