Stunning in Stilettos: A Stunning Contemporary Romance Page 6

  His cock pressed insistently against his fly and he muttered under his breath.

  It would be a lot easier if he didn't think of her sassy texts every time he saw her and she gave him grief. In some ways, their email exchanges were so much more a problem than her looks.

  Not many women occupied much brain space for long. Except her.

  When the answering text came back, he wanted to be excited. He just wasn’t. Sure, our usual place at 7.

  He stripped and headed for the shower. Setting the water to luke-warm, he let the water ease his tense muscles. Easy. He'd go out on the town and sort out this tension, then he'd be able to handle Kyra head on. But first, he needed to take care of something. He reached for the shower gel, and coated his hand. Then he gripped his cock as the warm spray sluiced over him and let the fantasy of Kyra stoke the flames.

  * * *

  It wasn't like Kyra wanted to keep thinking about Bryan. Hell, she didn't even know he'd be here a day early. But then he'd been there standing across the lobby. That body, made for sin, framed by the light, he'd been all she could think about all damn day. Jack hole. Six hours since she’d seen him and he still dominated her thoughts.

  A few of the senior developers had opted to come on the evening train so she was glad she'd set up the war room for them.

  She'd had Facilities move out the heavy oak desk and utilitarian chairs and instead had bean bags brought in with portable laptop chargers. The tech stuff and routers she'd had to have Megan help her organize, but at least the space was ready.

  And she'd done the good thing and set up the Nerf guns and portable basketball hoop and stuff. She knew that, like Bryan, they needed the stuff to help them think.

  Next step was snacks. She'd ordered in all the right sugary treats. But she belatedly remembered that Mack, the senior development lead, was a diabetic.

  He was one of the guys to come in tonight. So she'd offered to do a snack run. Reception had mentioned there were healthier vending machines on the executive floor where her and Bryan's rooms were and one on the roof with the pool and the gaming room.

  There was no way she was risking running in to Bryan again. Sure, she'd seen him heading out around dinnertime, but she didn't want to risk it so the roof it was. Kyra wasn't scared of him exactly.

  But she was worried that he wouldn't let her do what he'd hired her to do. They had to find a middle ground soon or they'd kill each other and she'd be without a job. And truth be told, she needed this job. So she could deal with him. He wasn't so bad. He was a total arrogant ass who was nothing like his emails, but he wasn't all bad. He worked hard, was smart as hell, and expected excellence.

  For the most part, she could ignore the flare of attraction. That's what battery operated boyfriends were for. And she could handle the occasional fantasy. Fantasizing was normal. Not ten times a day, it's not.

  Sometimes in meetings she'd lose whole tracks of time just staring at him out of the corner of her eye. Pathetic.

  The elevator let her out on the roof and she inhaled the balmy seventy-degree air of Los Angeles. Out here, near Pasadena, it was far quieter, clearer. It reminded her of Florida in so many ways. She ignored the shadow of homesickness. This was her life now. A life she wanted and craved.

  It certainly didn’t help that his supposed bedroom prowess was legendary. According to Megan, Bryan Ross was the stuff young, geek-girl programmers dreamed of: brilliant, sexy, and he knew his way around a Joss Whedon reference. He also went through women like Megan went through shoes. Rumor had it that some girl had broken his heart, and he hadn’t been serious about anyone since.

  Kyra hadn’t been able to crack into the man behind the power façade to decipher whether or not that rumor was true. She couldn’t see him torn up over any woman.

  Stepping out of the elevator, she followed the signs to the vending machines. She found them in the corner. Granola, nuts, hell, there was even a banana and other fruit in the machines. When she heard muffled voices, she frowned. It was nearly midnight. Who was still up here? The pool had been closed for a couple of hours now.

  She saw Bryan in the private game room with a petite brunette. Their conversation was hushed, but thanks to the great acoustics, Kyra heard it all.

  The brunette said in a breathy voice, “I just want to show you how much you mean to me.”

  Bryan’s lower, sexier cadence was firm. “Elaine, when I said we needed to talk, I meant we needed to actually have a conversation, not have a fuck at the hotel. It was a mistake calling you. You want more than I can give.”

  “Bullshit.” Her voice was flat. “This can still work. You're just not seeing it clearly.”

  As awkward scenarios went, Kyra knew she was in for one hell of a doozy. But there was no way to make it to the elevators without passing the game room, and the door was open enough that she’d be seen if she tried. Shit. Maybe it was better to stay put in the shadows until they were done with their little break-up scene. She kept one hand clamped over her mouth to keep from breathing too loudly or making an inadvertent squeak. Too incredulous to retreat, she watched through the crack in the door as the pale brunette strutted around in front of him.

  Bryan’s gruff voice rang in Kyra’s memory. “Elaine now is a good time to stop. Sex is off the menu.”

  “Why should I?” She tipped her head up to meet his eyes. “I know you like it, and I'm trying to get through to you so you’ll understand how good we can be together. Maybe this is the only way.”

  Unable to help herself, Kyra had craned her neck for a better view. If she was to properly recount the story to Megan, Kyra wanted to be sure she got the details right. Yeah … in the name of science and all that.

  Elaine pulled Bryan’s belt from the loops on his trousers and tossed it aside. “Whoops.”

  “Fuck Elaine,” he growled.

  She quickly unfastened his pants, ignoring his objections.

  From her vantage point, Kyra could see the muscles in his jaw ticking.

  “Elaine—” he whispered through clenched teeth. Something she did cut his voice off. When he spoke again, his voice was lower, sexier. “This is a really bad—mmm, idea.”

  “You need this, Bryan. Besides, I know what you like. I just want you to remember how good I am.”

  Kyra rolled her eyes, making a mental note to herself, never be so desperate for a guy you’re willing to kill your self-respect.

  Elaine sank to her knees in her slinky black dress and whispered, “Now there's what I’ve been waiting for.”

  Bryan had his head thrown back and his lips had parted. With a sleepy, half-lidded gaze, he stared down at Elaine. He stood mostly rigid while the woman worked her tongue over the length of his cock and back down the other side.

  Look away. But Kyra couldn't tear her gaze away from the brunette’s hollow cheeks and the way she sucked Bryan’s length into her. One of his hands clamped over the edge of the pool table so hard his knuckles turned white. His breathing growing more and more rapid. She should look away, but she couldn't. God he was big. His dick stretched her mouth wide.

  A low harsh groan escaped his lips and Kyra couldn’t help but wonder if she could do that to him.

  Through clenched teeth he whispered, “Fuck, Kyra. Your mouth feels so good.”

  At the sound of her name, Kyra sucked in a sharp breath. Had he just—No, she hadn’t heard that correctly. She strained, inching forward slightly but trying to keep to the shadows.

  Immediately, Bryan’s gaze pinned on the door. She was certain he couldn’t see her from where he stood. She was concealed in the dark, right? As Elaine continued to suck his thick erection into her mouth, he stared at Kyra’s hidden location. Like he was aware of her. Heat pooled in her core as she watched the scene, transfixed as Bryan’s hand dug into Elaine's hair and guided her mouth over his length, controlling her movements.

  “Not too fast.” He stroked a thumb over her chin. “Yeah, like that.” Bryan clenched his teeth and focused his intense
gaze on Kyra’s location. His gaze never strayed.

  Kyra’s skin flushed and she pressed her thighs together in an effort to alleviate the ache.

  This was hot. He was hot.

  With a sudden jerk, he gripped Elaine’s hair and let out a low feral growl. Kyra’s name a whisper on his lips again. By the time his release wrung him dry, Kyra was ready for one herself, she was so keyed up. For her part, Elaine hadn’t noticed that he’d called her the wrong name…twice. But Kyra knew. She wasn't the only one feeling the connection. Too bad she wasn't going to do anything about it.

  Kyra told herself it didn’t mean anything. They’d been locked in battle for weeks. Of course he'd have her on the brain. But the butterflies in her belly didn’t care what rationalizations she used.

  The inner walls of her core convulsed and quivered. She wanted him. Enough to break her own rules.

  Shaking the lust fog loose, Kyra rubbed the back of her neck in an effort to release some of her tension. She glanced at her watch and cursed. She had to get back downstairs.

  Eleven

  Bryan stepped off the elevator with shaky legs. He could barely stand. He'd never been into anyone watching, but damn. That was the hottest thing he'd done all fucking year.

  Kyra had been watching him. He'd known it as soon as she came off the elevator. He'd been obsessed with her scent for weeks now. It was so distinctive. Something sweet, like honey with a hint of rosemary. Maybe it was her shampoo? After an excruciating dinner with Elaine, he'd known that trying to relieve his sexual frustration with her wasn't going to work. His heart and his cock hadn't been into it.

  When she'd asked to come up for a nightcap, he'd taken her up to the roof knowing it was deserted. The hotel closed the rooftop bar at ten and it was well past by now. She'd made her last ditch effort and he'd been on the brink of telling Elaine that it wasn't going to work and then he'd smelled her. Kyra. She'd been on the roof. How long had she watched?

  Did she know that she was the object of his fantasies? Did she know that he'd been obsessed with her? This shit was so fucked up. Getting blown by another woman, pretending she was someone else. He needed to start making some better decisions pronto. Everything was on the line and he couldn't go on like this. Pulling his key out, he paused and stared at her door. Don't do it. Don't go near her. Just let sleeping dogs lie.

  Was she still up? The masochistic thrill seeking part of him wanted her to know. Wanted her to have heard him. Wanted her to know why he was so tense with her. He ran his hands through his hair.

  The only way he was going to get rid of it was to deal with her. And not in the way his body wanted to. If he acknowledged it, they could get past it. Easy. But right before he knocked, he heard a low, keening moan.

  He froze. Was she in there with someone? Relax dumbass, she's not your girlfriend. So what if she is with someone? And maybe that sound wasn't the sound of a woman getting pleasured. Maybe she was hurt. Fallen and couldn't get up.

  Heart thudding, he knocked. What the fuck are you doing? Too late now. When he didn't hear anything, he knocked again. His breathing sped to match his heart rate. Please don't let there be someone in there with her. Please let her be alone. Please let her be alone.

  He heard the lock disengage and breathed a sigh of relief. She wouldn't have opened it if she had a guest, right?

  “Bryan?” Her eyes went wide and her pupils dilated.

  “Uh, hi. Sorry, I know it's late; I just thought I heard something.” Smooth dickweed.

  A pink hue tinted her cheeks and she licked her lips. He narrowed his eyes. Why did she look so nervous? She wore a threadbare T-shirt and sweat pants. Maybe she'd hastily thrown them on?

  God, it was a herculean effort to not focus on her stiff nipples under her T-shirt. Thank God for peripheral vision. She cleared her throat and crossed her arms. “I, um ... Sometimes I talk in my sleep.”

  She didn't look like she was sleeping. But he'd give her the out. She licked her bottom lip again. Fuck, he needed to get into his room before he also mentioned he'd been having all kinds of inappropriate thoughts about her.

  “Were you able to get everything set up for the guys?”

  She nodded. “Yeah, a couple of them came up this evening on the train so I've got them set up for snacks and stuff and the place is all arranged how they like it so they're hard at work. The others arrive in the morning.”

  “Great. They uh, they're lucky to have an advocate like you.”

  “Thank you.” There she went with the lip biting again. “And I know they're happy working here. Everyone says you're tough but fair. But I don’t think they know about your love for DS9.”

  He laughed. “Look, we all have our vices.”

  “Yeah, but do yours have to be so blatant? I mean, waving your freak flag for everyone to see. Bold move, Mr. Ross.”

  Why did it sound so sexy to him when she used his full name? “Bryan, call me Bryan.”

  “Goodnight, Bryan.”

  “Night.” But before he turned to go back to his room, he remembered. “Oh hey, in the morning, let's see if we can get some snacks for Mack. He's a diabetic, so the usual Snickers and lollipops won't work.”

  “I know; I’ve already got it covered. In the interim, I grabbed some healthy snacks from the rooftop vending machines.”

  As soon as the final word tripped out of her mouth, her eyes went wide as her gaze met his. Fuck him. Any shred of hope he had that she didn't see him getting sucked off evaporated.

  She'd seen.

  She'd watched.

  She'd heard.

  The rush of blood was like a roar in his head. She knew. He knew she knew. And she knew that he knew that she knew.

  Fuck. Fuck, fuck. Tom was right. He was way the fuck out of control. Time to rein it in. “Kyra, I—”

  She broke eye contact and looked down. “Goodnight.” She closed the door with a soft click behind her.

  Damn.

  Twelve

  Kyra tried to pay attention as Megan prattled on about office politics and how much she loved Kyra's leather jacket. It was hard to focus though, as she could feel Bryan's gaze on her the moment she stepped into the conference hall for breakfast. For the most part, she was pretty good at keeping her eyes glued to what she was doing. But the heat on her neck was distracting as hell.

  He was watching her. But why? It's not like anything was happening there. So what if they both fantasized? No big deal. Everyone fantasized.

  “Yo, earth to Kyra.”

  Kyra blinked at her friend as she tried to balance a plateful of cantaloupe. “Sorry. I'm a little distracted. What were you saying about a sample sale?” At least that's what she thought Megan had been talking about when she zoned out.

  “That was like two topics ago. Does your distracted, flustered state have anything to do with the way Boss man has been eye-sexing you?”

  “Jesus, would you keep your voice down?” She whipped her head around to make sure no one was watching.

  No one was around them, but she didn't need that kind of gossip rumor going around.

  “Oh relax, no one heard me and you wouldn't be so defensive if you didn't think it was true.”

  “It's not true. None of it is true. It's just some rumor you and the girls cooked up. Nothing is happening there.” Kyra snapped her jaw shut when she realized her voice had gone shrill. “Sorry. I'm overreacting.”

  “I was just teasing you. But the way you're reacting, I’m guessing something is up.”

  Kyra looked down at her plate. “I—” But she didn't get to finish because Bryan sauntered over to them, the sex appeal oozing from him in waves and making her weak. As if she needed this kind of headache again.

  “Kyra, Megan, glad I found you guys.”

  Bullshit. He'd been watching her, waiting for her. Leaning against the wall and looking way too good in his low-slung jeans and plain white T. The soft cotton clung to his shoulders and showed off muscular tanned arms. When did the man work out? Because
muscles like that only came from actual effort. If the arms are that good, then how are the abs? What? No. She would not think about his abs. She wouldn't. She would keep it cool and professional. But one glance at Megan revealed her friend was doing the mental calculation for her.

  “Oh uh, hi, Bryan,” she muttered. “What can we do for you?”

  Oblivious to her wariness, he said, “So, you know how you've been asking for new resources on the project? Well, you're going to get one.”

  She blinked, once, then twice. “Seriously, you approved a hire? Thank god, because I’ve dreaded telling you that we might not make it. At least not make it well without more resources. But I figured I'd table that discussion until we made more headway. When do they start?”

  He grinned and she would have sworn a vital brain cell shorted. “Today. I'm your resource. After the first round of meetings and workshops, I figured I could jump in on a few work sessions.”

  She tried to speak, she really did and she knew in theory, this was great. But the two of them would be fighting in a matter of minutes. “Bryan, while the offer is great, I don't think—”

  He put up his hands. “When I'm working, you're in charge. I promise. I'll shut up and do what you tell me to do. I'm trying to give you what you need and keep us lean.” Why in the world did that sound dirty? But of course it wasn't. Because they were in public. He was her boss and Megan was standing right next to them. So of course it wasn't dirty. Then why the hell did her body hum at the prospect of telling him what to do?

  Kyra cleared her throat. “Uh, sure. As long as my guys don't have a problem with it, then I'm cool. But, just in case you forget that I'm in charge, what do you suggest I do about that?” Because it had been weeks, she knew him well by now. He was used to being in charge and they were under the gun and understaffed.

  “How about you just say DS9 to me and I'll know I need to back the hell off, yeah?”

  Kyra's lips twitched. “Okay. Fair enough. If you're volunteering, I'll take the help.”