Forbidden Pleasures Page 6

  “We can't do this. I work for you.” I retreated behind logic and didn't give him the chance to refute it. “I'd better go.”

  I grabbed my bag and, for the second time, left Rylan Archer staring after me while I ran from his office. Only this time, I wasn't confused about what had happened, just about how I felt.

  Chapter 8

  He called me twice the Thursday after our kiss, but I didn't answer the phone. I listened to the voicemails though and they were both of him apologizing for his unprofessional behavior, but also asking if we could meet. He wanted to talk, discuss whatever this was between the two of us. I didn't want to talk. I didn't even want to think about what had happened. Unfortunately, my brain seemed to disagree with my desire and seemed intent on remembering what his lips had felt like moving with mine. How they'd somehow managed to be hard and gentle at the same time. I'd felt the strength there, and knew he'd held back. I had no doubt he was the kind of man who could do the kinds of things I liked, but I was equally as certain that he didn't give over control.

  Which meant I needed to stay as far away from him as possible. I was reluctant to give up a client, but I didn't have much of a choice. I sent my invoice off and tried my best to forget the entire thing. Technically, I was supposed to be Archer Enterprises’ tech company on call, but I hoped by ignoring Rylan, he'd get the hint and leave me alone.

  ***

  Nearly three weeks went by and, after those first couple of calls, I didn't hear anything from Rylan at all. Finally, by the middle of the third week in October, I started to relax and let myself focus on the big weekend I had coming up. Every year, there was a big tech conference in Denver where the best and the brightest in their fields came together to talk shop. I'd gone last year and had actually enjoyed myself, which was surprising considering I'd been in a hotel full of strangers. This year, the conference was being held at the Hilton Garden Inn and the show-runners were putting the panel members up in their own rooms, so when they asked me to speak on a panel about the growing security risks in an ever-changing technological field, there was no way I was going to turn that down. Denver was only a short drive if traffic was iffy, so I could've technically just driven in, but I wasn't about to pass up a free room.

  I'd gotten the list of the other panelists a couple weeks ago and was impressed by the names. Two had Ph.D.’s in computer science and one had written one of the most secure systems to ever be created. The other two I'd heard of, but weren't as well-known. The moderator was coming in from LA and his bio said he was some computer whiz, but I didn't recognize the name. That didn't surprise me. His job was to ask questions and guide the people on the floor so that things kept on schedule, not be an expert.

  After what happened with Rylan, getting out of Fort Collins, even if just for the weekend, was looking even more appealing than it had before. Just enough of a change of scenery to help me relax. Plus, it had been a while since I'd gotten laid and I was starting to get the itch again. It might be nice to get some out-of-town action. No risk of awkward encounters afterwards, especially if I steered clear of the other techs.

  As I packed a bag Friday afternoon, I made sure to include some sexy underwear for when I went out on Saturday night after the panels were done. A miniskirt and halter top joined them despite the fall chillness in the air. Other than that outfit, I kept the clothes fairly simple. Plain black dress pants and simple blouses. I had a hard enough time being taken seriously. I didn't need my wardrobe to make it worse. Not that I gave a big damn about what others thought.

  The drive was eventless and traffic light. When I reached the hotel, I followed the signs into the room reserved for registration. I was surprised when I didn't meet any resistance getting my ID badge and hotel key. In fact, the woman who took my information barely gave my hair a second look.

  The room was amazing, the bed soft. I took a long, hot bath and then sprawled on the bed to watch some TV. I'd brought my laptop so I could work if I wanted to, but at the moment, relaxing sounded like more fun.

  ***

  I should've known that a smooth beginning meant that the shit had to hit the fan at some point.

  That point came just after lunch on Saturday when I walked onto the stage for my panel, took a seat, and then saw the moderator walk toward the podium. Fashionably messy dark brown hair, full lips... oh shit.

  What the hell was Rylan Archer doing here?

  I barely managed to keep my face blank as he addressed the room and then introduced us, one by one. I was last and he said my name as easily as he'd said the others. I supposed it was a good thing. It meant he wouldn’t treat me differently because of our history. I couldn't, however, completely stop the stab of disappointment that went through me when his eyes briefly connected to mine and I saw none of the desire I remembered so clearly.

  I didn't know how I made it through the panel, only that I must've answered my questions well because I didn't get mocked and more than one person offered compliments as I hurried from the room. I needed to get away from him. I didn't want to see if he would approach me or ignore me. If I were honest with myself, I wasn't sure which I wanted.

  And then, he was in front of me. I barely stopped quickly enough to stop myself from running into his chest. I immediately regretted it; felt a pang of sorrow for not having an excuse to touch him. My fingers itched to trace his abdominals, feel the firm muscles I was sure were hidden under his carefully pressed dress shirt.

  “Hello, Jenna.”

  “Rylan.” I gave him a curt nod and crossed my arms. “I'd surprised to see you here.”

  “I got the call yesterday asking if I could fill in for Addison Vorak. I guess he's in the hospital with gall stones.” He took a step closer, not enough to make me panic, but enough that he was edging toward the line between professional and personal. “I have a confession to make. I was glad when I saw your name on the panel list.”

  “I got your messages,” I said, scrambling for a change of subject. “Apology accepted. No need to repeat it.”

  “I wasn't planning to.” He smiled and something behind my belly button jerked. “I wanted to know if you'd like to go to dinner with me. Maybe drinks afterwards.”

  I shook my head. “That's not a good idea.”

  “Completely professional, I promise,” he said. “I still want to convince you to come work for me.”

  Fuck. Did he emphasize the word ‘come’ or was it my imagination?

  “No, thank you.” I stepped around him, desperate for air. “If you'll excuse me...” I was walking before he could respond. I needed to get a drink and then find someone I could bring back to my room and fuck until all thoughts of this man were scrubbed from my brain.

  Things didn't go as I planned. It was too early for the good clubs in the city to be open so I decided to get something to eat. By the time I was finished, I was even more ready for a drink, but I no longer wanted to be around a lot of people. I could still find someone to sleep with, but it might be a better idea to just do it from the hotel bar. The idea of playing the seduction game didn't appeal to me anymore. My relaxing weekend away was turning into a gigantic disappointment, and I knew exactly why.

  The hotel bar was packed with people from the convention, including a couple of guys who looked to be in my age range and were giving me appreciative looks as I walked toward the bar. I was pretty sure some of the people who'd been at my panel were giving me double-takes, but I focused only on the men checking me out. At least three looked promising.

  I ordered a shot of tequila, downed it and asked for another. I didn't get drunk – ever – but I'd eaten enough that two shots would only take the edge off and that's what I needed. It always surprised people that I was careful about what I drank, but I didn't care. Loosening up was one thing. Losing control was another.

  I heard a shrill outburst of laughter and automatically turned toward the sound. Two barstools away sat a brassy blond with enough cleavage to get lost in. She was laughing as she put her hand o
n the arm of the man sitting next to her. A man I instantly recognized and wished I hadn't.

  My mouth tightened. It looked like he didn’t care who he went to drink with. Not that he owed me anything. We'd kissed. Once. And I'd been the one to run away, to say there couldn't be anything else. It was a good thing he'd moved on to someone else, it would take his attention from me. I just hadn't thought it'd be so fast.

  I rolled my eyes. Of course he'd found someone quick. Why did I expect from Rylan anything different than every other man I'd ever known? With his looks, his money, his charm… it shouldn't be a surprise that it had landed a replacement so easily.

  I looked down at the tequila I'd intended to sip. After this shot, I could manage a beer or some wine, but I couldn't take any more hard liquor once this was gone. Fuck it. I tossed the shot back and pushed the glass back toward the bartender. I closed my eyes and let myself feel the burn of the alcohol sliding down my throat.

  Still, I could hear her laughing. And then I heard her talk.

  “Wow, look at that freak. How could they even let her in here? I mean, I get a couple extra piercings, but that hair? And check out what she's wearing.”

  Time was suspended as her words floated around the noisy room. How many eyes had turned to me? A dozen? More?

  “I am.” Rylan's tone was mild, but the two words held power. I sensed an undercurrent of something else.

  I opened my eyes, braced myself, and turned to face the pair. Rylan's gaze was steady as it met mine.

  “Rylan,” the blonde whined as she tugged on his arm. “I'm bored. Let's go to your room.”

  He didn't even look at her as he spoke. “I told you before, we're not going to my room.”

  “Why not?” The whine was more pronounced. “Because of her? Is that what you're into? Blue-haired Goth freaks?”

  “Sammy,” Rylan snapped. “Shut the fuck up.”

  My eyes widened as he walked toward me. He didn't take his eyes from me, not even when he had to shake her hand off of his arm. I waited. His gaze held me in place. He stopped before he touched me, but he was only a couple inches away, close enough that I could smell the fresh scent of soap mingled with… him.

  “I know I'm probably being a glutton for punishment here, but would you please have a drink with me?”

  I opened my mouth to say no, to repeat what I'd said before about this not being a good idea. Instead, I heard myself saying what I really wanted.

  “Okay.”

  Chapter 9

  I wasn't entirely sure when I made the decision to go to his room. It hadn't been when he'd bought us both a beer or when we'd talked tech while we sipped the alcohol. I knew we'd skirted any too-personal discussions, sticking with the basics like why we'd chosen our respective colleges or what had gotten us into our fields. They'd been questions that we could've easily found interview answers for, but they'd also been open enough that we could share a bit more if we wanted. He'd been surprisingly easy to talk to and I'd found myself, for once, having to remind myself not to share too much. If I'd been the kind of person who made a habit of lying to myself, I might've blamed the alcohol. I couldn’t. I'd known I was still in control of myself.

  That hadn't made me feel any better about wanting to share a bit more about the real reasons I'd gone into computer science. It was more than the standard ‘I'd always wanted to help design programs to protect people.’ I kept quiet.

  As I walked with him to the elevator, I wondered when exactly a drink had turned into a not-entirely-unexpected invitation I'd accepted without allowing too much thought. That wasn't like me at all. Something about this man messed with my instincts and it unnerved me, but not enough to stop where I knew this was going. I'd set myself on this road and I intended to see it through. I needed to.

  It had been a simple enough moment, nothing anyone around us would've noticed. There had been longer and longer pauses between conversation and we'd both finished our beer within a few seconds of the other. Then we'd looked at each other and I'd seen the familiar flash of desire in his eyes. I'd waited for some sort of smooth line, but it hadn't come.

  He'd straightened, turned, and said a single word, “Coming?”

  There was a quiet authority in his voice, the kind some powerful men have. It was the kind of voice that set men like him apart from men who thought power made them important or made them real men. Rylan was the kind of man people followed because he was a good leader. He had power, but didn't covet it. He pushed his people to work hard because he worked hard. He didn't demand respect because he thought he deserved it, but carried himself with a confidence that said he knew he'd earned it.

  It had been that confidence and authority that had drawn me to my feet. Usually, I liked my men submissive, pliant, but there was something about Rylan's quiet strength that made me go with him. Trust him. Besides, if he was half as good in bed as I suspected, I was in for an unforgettable night.

  He leaned against the wall in the elevator, a couple feet away from me, not touching me, just watching, waiting. I was surprised he hadn't tried to kiss me again, but I was glad he hadn't. Not here. I didn't like being in elevators with just one or two people. Better too many people, giving me safety in numbers. I could cope if it was just for a short time and I wasn't being crowded, but if he tried to get too close, I would've had to move away and the mood would've been ruined.

  Fortunately, the doors opened on his floor without incident and he motioned for me to follow. I'd expected the penthouse but, instead, he led me to a large, but not opulent, room. When he shut the door behind me and then turned toward me, I could see the wheels turning in his head as he tried to decide what to do next.

  I took off my shoes and wondered if I should initiate or wait for him to do it. Then he was walking toward me, a determined expression on his face. The ball was rolling.

  One arm went around my waist while the other grasped my chin. He held me firmly, but not so tightly that I felt like I couldn't pull away if I needed to. He didn't hesitate as his mouth came down on mine, which I found surprising considering how our last kiss had ended. But then his lips were moving, parting mine, and I put all thoughts aside and concentrated on now and the sensation of his tongue sliding across my bottom lip and then into my mouth.

  I moved my hands between us, pushing up the fitted sweater he was wearing so I could get to his skin. His stomach muscles tensed as I ran my fingers along them. Damn. He was even more cut than I'd thought he was. I was suddenly very eager to see the rest of his body.

  I pulled my mouth away from his. “Too many clothes.” I tugged at the hem of his shirt.

  “I agree,” he said as he reached down to help. He pulled his shirt over his head, revealing washboard abs and a muscular chest that my fingers itched to touch.

  I was still staring at him when he reached for my shirt. I jerked back, but smiled so the mood wasn't ruined. “I undress myself.”

  He grinned and made a gesture with his hands as he gave a little bow. “Please do then.”

  I rolled my eyes and pulled my shirt over my head.

  “Slowly.”

  I glared at Rylan as I reached behind me to unzip my skirt. “I don't do the whole striptease thing.”

  “Pity,” he said mildly. “However you want it.”

  It was odd, I thought as I stepped out of my skirt. He wasn't pushing what he wanted, but it still didn't sound like he was giving up control. The idea both frightened and thrilled me.

  He let out a low whistle and, for a moment, I thought he was going to comment about my scars or even say something about my tattoos. But he didn't. There was admiration and lust in his eyes, but only the kind that made heat spread inside me.

  He held out his hand. “Let's move this to the bedroom.”

  I took his hand and let him lead me. As we walked, I enjoyed the view. Not only did I get to see the intricate artwork of a Celtic cross that ran the length of his spine and across his broad shoulders, there was also the way his firm ass moved b
eneath his tight black boxer-briefs as he walked. I could only imagine the way it would look flexing as he pumped into me.

  Fuck, he was hot.

  His room was bigger than the one I'd gotten, but I was focused more on the bed itself. Then Rylan kicked off his underwear and I found myself distracted from everything except the thick, heavy cock that curved up from the dark curls at its base. I could tell he wasn't fully hard and my pussy throbbed at the thought of just how big he'd be when we finally got down to it.

  He reached for my hand again, pulling me to him. One hand went to the back of my neck the other hand splayed across the middle of my back. I could feel the desire radiating from him even before we kissed and when our mouths came together, it was like a jolt of physical energy. I pushed my tongue between his lips and heard him growl, pleased.

  I wasn't sure when he undid my bra, only that his hand was cupping my breast. I moaned as his thumb brushed over my nipple and then gasped when he rolled it between his fingers. His cock hardened against my stomach and I slid my hand down his back, running my fingers down the tattoo on his spine until I reached his ass. I ran my hand over the firm muscle, pulling him more tightly against me.

  When I felt him start to lean us down onto the bed, a flare of panic went through me. I rotated my hip, maneuvering us so that we landed side-by-side. His hand slid down my ribcage to the waistband of my panties and his mouth broke away from mine to start a trail down my neck.

  Little ripples of pleasure fanned across my skin as he kissed his way down to my breasts. He put pressure on my shoulder and I knew he wanted me on my back. I stiffened and felt him look up at me. With his eyes locked on mine, his tongue flicked across the tip of my nipple and it instantly hardened. As he took it between his lips, he pushed himself up on his knees so that our bodies weren't touching anymore. He lowered his head at an awkward angle and licked a stripe of flesh across the side of my breast. This time, when he pushed against my shoulder, I let myself be turned slightly. I wasn't flat on my back, but it was a far more submissive position than I'd ever let anyone else get me in. If he'd have tried to lay on me, I would've panicked, but he stayed where he was, only taking advantage of the access he had to my other breast.