Kate Carlisle – How to Seduce a Billionaire (страница 6)

“Doesn’t matter. I’m going to help you myself because I don’t want you scaring away the staff.”

She placed her hands on her hips and tilted her head at him. “I know you meant that in the nicest way.”

“Sorry. Yes.” He shook his head as if to erase the comment. “Of course I did.”

She continued staring at him. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“It’s the only way I’ll know for sure that you’re not getting into trouble around here.”

“I won’t get into trouble.”

“I know, because I’ll be the one helping you.”

Inhaling a deep breath, Kelly let it out slowly, then seemed to brace herself for impact. “Okay. I appreciate this, Brandon.” She took a hesitant step toward him, but he held up his hand to stop her.

“Wait. We need to set some ground rules first.”

“Ground rules? Why?”

“Because there’s no way I’m having you fall for me.”

“Fall for you?” She blinked, then began to laugh. “Are you kidding?”

“Something funny?” he asked, insulted.

“Yes,” she said, giggling like a schoolgirl. “The idea that I would ever be dumb enough to fall for you is pretty funny.”

“Dumb enough?”

“Yes, dumb enough. Let me count the ways.” She held up one hand and began ticking off fingers. “You’re a grouch in the morning. You leave newspapers lying around everywhere. You date a woman once and then never call back. You’re a big baby when you’re sick.”

“Wait a minute,” he protested.

But she was on a roll now and seemed to be enjoying herself. “And all your weird superstitions left over from when you played in the NFL? My gosh, wearing the same socks for every game was bad enough, but I also heard that you ate only sardines and blueberries the night before every game. Do you still do that before big negotiations?

Who does that?”

Brandon had heard enough. He placed the file on the chair in front of her desk and stalked closer. “The socks were washed between games.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah, really.” He brushed against her, then slipped his hand around her nape and urged her closer. “And sardines and blueberries are both excellent sources of omega-three fatty acids.”

“Fascinating,” she whispered, as she stared wide-eyed at him.

“Helps the brain function better,” he added as he caressed her cheek.

“G-good to know.” She sounded wary now, probably smart of her.

He bent to kiss her neck, then murmured in her ear, “The quarterback’s the brains of the team, did you know that?”

She moaned. “What are you doing?”

“What do you think I’m doing?”

“I’m not sure.”

“I am.” And he kissed her. She tasted as sweet and hot as he somehow knew she would. Even more so. He had to work to keep the contact light and simple, because it wouldn’t do to get carried away. But that didn’t stop him from wishing he could lay her down on the desk, run his hands up her thighs, spread her legs and bury himself inside her.

He had to stop. This was wrong in too many ways to count. If he stepped away from her right now, they could both forget this kiss ever happened.

Then she groaned in surrender and he knew she wanted the same things he did. And he was helpless to stop. He used his tongue to gently pry her lips open, plunging inside her sexy mouth. Her tongue met his in a sensual play of thrust and parry.

He wanted to cup her breasts and flick his thumbs across her peaked nipples, but that was a sure road to madness. So with every ounce of will inside him, he forced himself to end the kiss, reluctantly pulling himself away from her warmth.

“Oh,” she whispered, licking her lips as she slowly opened her eyes.

Brandon’s insides clenched at the sight of her pink tongue tasting him on her mouth.

“Oh, that was good,” she said with a note of surprise. “That was really good.”

“Yeah,” he said, brooding. “It was.”

“I liked it a lot.”

So did he, but he remained silent. Otherwise, he might’ve been tempted to follow through on his desire to have her naked under him. But that would never happen and right now, he needed to regain some degree of control over whatever strange emotions were still churning inside him.

“Roger never kissed like that,” she said, watching him thoughtfully.

“Did I mention the guy was an idiot?” he muttered.

“No wonder he didn’t think I was sexy,” she reasoned. “It’s because he didn’t make me feel sexy.”

“I rest my case.”

“But you did,” she declared and smiled up at him. “And now… wow. You know, I really think Roger was the problem, not me. But I can’t be sure.”

“Yeah, you can,” he said gruffly. “Roger was the problem. End of story.”

She touched his arm. “Thank you, Brandon.”

“You’re welcome.” He started to head for his office, still trying to steady his breathing.

“Wait,” she said.

He turned and looked at her. A slight line of concern marred the smooth surface of her forehead. Her lips were pink and tender and about the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. The fact that he wanted more than anything to kiss her again, made him forge ahead into his office.

“I think I could get really good at this and blow Roger’s mind, but I need to practice,” she said, following him. She had her notepad in hand again, probably hoping she could make another damn list of all the different ways they could kiss each other. If she only knew.

“Not a good idea,” he said, sliding the Montclair file into his briefcase.

“But you said that before and it turned out to be a really good idea.”

He pierced her with a look. “No more practicing. Ground rules, remember?”

“I remember, don’t worry.” After scrutinizing him for a moment, she nodded her agreement. “Okay, I guess you’re right.”

“I know I’m right,” he said, and snapped his briefcase closed.

“Thank you for your help,” she said. “It was wonderful. On a purely educational level, I mean.”

“You’re welcome,” he said and led the way out of his office. “Now let’s call it a night.”

“Oh, I’m going to stay for a while,” she said, flipping to a clean page, all business now. “I need to make some notes while everything is still fresh in my mind. I’ll need to remember everything later.”

“You’re going to make notes on that kiss?”

“Yes, for future reference.” She’d already begun scribbling what looked like mathematical calculations. “If I write everything down—what you did and what I felt, I’ll be able to recall each sensation the next time, and I’ll know I’m doing it right.”

“The next time,” he echoed hazily.

“Yes. I tend to remember tactile experiences more clearly if I make a record of it immediately. Then later, I’ll study my notes in anticipation of the next occurrence.” She beamed at him. “I’m quite confident I can achieve an exponential jump in my skill level and understanding.”

“Really?”

“It makes perfect sense on paper.”

“On paper. Good.”