Mary Winter
“The Wrong Woman” BAD GIRLS DO IT BETTER, VOLUME 4
By Mary Winter Venus Press LLC
2
BAD GIRLS DO IT BE...
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Mary Winter
“The Wrong Woman” BAD GIRLS DO IT BETTER, VOLUME 4
By Mary Winter Venus Press LLC
2
BAD GIRLS DO IT BETTER, VOLUME 4 “The Wrong Woman”
The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal, and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized editions, and do not participate in or encourage the piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author's rights is appreciated. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, places, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. THE WRONG WOMAN Copyright © 2006 by Mary Winter ISBN: 1-59836-119-8 Cover art and design © 2006 by Sable Grey All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form without permission, except as provided by the U.S. Copyright Law. Printed and bound in the United States of America. For information, you can find us on the web at www.VenusPress.com
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Chapter One
A bluesy rock ballad played over the speakers, the music lowered, now that the bar had closed for the night, or rather morning. Wide-awake in spite of the early morning hour, Annie swayed her hips in tune to the music. She sang along under her breath as she polished the counter to a mirror-bright shine. Behind her, liquor bottles sat in neat, tidy rows. Glasses hung from beneath the overhead counters, and she doubted a single speck of dust lingered anywhere. Donnie, one of the waiters finished mopping the floor. His black tank top revealed rippling muscles that had the women swooning and the tips flowing. She nodded at him as she finished cleaning the counter. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Look at me, all decked out like Miss Party Girl. Who would believe that as of last month, I was an accountant? A boring, staid accountant. Changing her suits and slacks for pushup bras and mini skirts had never felt so good. Instead of hiding her body, she flaunted it, and her bank account thanked her. She popped a maraschino cherry in her mouth and sucked it into pulp before chewing and swallowing. Oh yeah, her dreams of becoming a bad girl were flowing nicely. Her clunky black boots, black leather miniskirt and a black silk halter-top gave her the professional look without being too drab. Her pale skin shone smooth and blemish free. A swipe of red lipstick, her auburn hair dyed a vibrant shade of red, was twisted into a knot on the back of her head. As she'd worked tendrils had escaped, and now several strands framed her face. Too large cornflower blue eyes and hollow cheeks made her look gaunt, and she thanked her lucky stars the look was in vogue. Annie Gadbaum, you don't clean up half bad. Her mental reassurances had been the same night after night, but after two weeks on the job, she was starting to believe them. Grabbing a notebook from beneath the bar, she took inventory, deciding what to bring up for tomorrow's--no today's--opening later on in the afternoon. She looked up, checking the schnapps supply, and saw her boss, Ridge Warrick watching her. Through 4
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the mirror, their gazes collided. Heat coiled deep in her pussy, an ache she'd learned to live with since meeting her enigmatic boss. With broad shoulders and narrow hips, dressed in the latest fashions, Ridge Warrick was way out of her league. Light years out of her league, and she struggled to remember she'd been Annie the Accountant before taking this job at Deep Whispers. The club's name evoked images of husky sighs and shared secrets between lovers. The dark interior lit only by flickering lights mimicking candles and the plush seating set the mood. Soulful music made for clinging to your lover and swaying close played from the speakers and their signature drinks, from Velvet Seduction to their Hot and Wet coffee-drink line, put a fine line on why people were here. Sex was on the menu, and the patrons leaving alone wanted it that way. It was a far cry from Voltage, the hip dance spot where she'd worked during college. Her younger self had preferred the loud, flashing lights and music that left her ears ringing most nights. Now that she was older and more mature, the subtle sophistication of Deep Whispers called to her. Or perhaps it was the club's owner. Ridge nodded, a silent motion telegraphing a job well done, then turned on his heel and walked into his office. Annie picked up a bunch of cocktail napkins and fanned herself with them. Damn, but he was hot. Her libido chose that moment to remind her that it had been too long since she'd felt anything between her legs except her own touch. Her pussy clenched, then she shook her head. Fantasizing about the boss got her nowhere, and she still needed to restock the bar. “Hey, Annie. Need some help?” Donnie strode to the door leading down into the basement. “No need for you to carry those boxes up by yourself.” Annie grinned. Donnie, a good ten years younger than her, studied sports medicine at the local college. She thought he had a crush on her. He always helped her carry up the boxes full of liquor bottles and chatted with her while she finished her work, even though he should be home studying. “That'd be great. Thanks.” Tonight, like every night before, she accepted his help. It didn't hurt, and besides, having a twenty year old interested in her boosted her ego. Donnie knew they'd only be friends. “So what do you need tonight?” he asked as he led the way downstairs. The basement held the entire bar's supplies, from extra glasses to the big freezer 5
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full of appetizers. The wide steps were easy to navigate, even in high-heeled boots. “Oh, the usual. The vodkas sold out well tonight, as did the specialty whiskies. And a couple extra bottles of Jack Daniels. Seems like tonight's crowd wanted the harder stuff.” “Finals week,” Donnie replied. “Oh?” Annie leaned against the railing and watched as Donnie filled a box with bottles, then a second one. His muscles flexed, and his ass, dear god, but the boy's ass could be sculpted it was so perfect. If only her tastes ran to younger men, but she preferred them out of college. Worldly men who knew what they wanted and went after it. Mature men, like Ridge. She suppressed a groan. Not him again. She worked for him, and while she'd gladly take any carnal order he gave, she highly doubted it would happen. Donnie stopped in front of her and held a box in his hands. “Annie?” he asked. She blinked to find he held a half-full box out to her. “I'm sorry. Just woolgathering.” Deliberately, she used a word to imply her aged status held more weight than it did. Although the calendar read thirty-five, she still felt twenty-five, and even then she'd preferred older men. She took the box and couldn't help but admire Donnie as he grabbed the other two remaining boxes and started up the stairs. As she followed him, her eyes on his tight ass, she had to admit, age had its privileges. She knew enough to admire and appreciate, even if she did know enough not to touch.
*** If he were a betting man, Ridge Warrick would bet that beneath Annie's party girl exterior laid a down-to-earth homebody. He expelled a sigh and listened to her banter with Donnie as she finished stocking the bar. Brisk and efficient, she worked hard. She'd only been here two weeks, and he'd originally intended her as a light duty replacement. Her easy rapport with customers and the way she catered to the clientele quickly made her his lead bartender. Getting by with replacements didn't seem to be working. She laughed. The dulcet tones rippled through him and went straight to his groin. He struggled to look away, though the large window in his office gave him a view of the entire bar. Dragging his fingers through his hair, he finally turned away and sat behind his desk. At his age, just a few years shy of forty, he didn't need some party girl. No, he wanted to settle down. A woman he could spend the rest of his life with, and watching Annie, no matter how delectable the view, reminded him of what he wanted. Sadly, she wasn't it. Her too-short skirts and cleavage bearing tops went over well with the patrons, 6
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and like them, he'd leaned in and listened close some nights. He heard her talk about the parties, about the social life that would tire out anyone but her. He glanced at the papers on his desk. Time for her review. He jotted a few notes, debated on telling her not to wear such revealing clothing, even though he knew it was good for business. The thought of other men ogling his Annie sent a white-hot stab of jealousy through him. His Annie? Ridge shook his head. He'd been inhaling bar fumes a bit too long if he was going to start to think of her as belonging to him. A party girl like her, she probably had several men on a string. He grinned. He never liked being part of a crowd, even if he had had some wild times in college. No one-on-one suited him much better. He rose to his feet. The cut of his tailored trousers hid his burgeoning hard on. Damn it, if just thinking about Annie could bring him to full mast so easily what would happen if he actually touched her, kissed her, fucked her senseless all night long? At the direction of his thoughts his cock hardened so swiftly it took his breath away. He couldn't go out there looking like this. Something about a raging woody shot the professional image all to hell. He strode to the door and opened it. Leaning out, he found Annie behind the bar. Her breasts swayed gently as she moved to the music. Standing on tiptoe, she stretched and replaced glasses in the overhead shelf. Why she didn't use the stepstool he'd given her, he didn't know, but the view of her breasts thrust against the halter-top, of her smooth, tanned stomach, and the skirt riding so low he thought he saw a hint of her panties. His mouth went dry. “Annie,” he called. She looked under the counter. “Yes?” She finished arranging the glasses, then closed the door and rested her elbows on the bar. The movement plumped her breasts. Did she not know what she did to him? “I'd like to see you for a moment in my office please.” “All right.” She sounded uncertain, as if he called her on the carpet. She wiped at the spot she just occupied on the counter, and then stepped out from behind the bar. Ridge ducked back into his office, but not before he caught a glimpse of her long legs and those “fuck me” boots. He sat behind his desk and adjusted himself. Professional, he mentally admonished. I've got to remain professional. 7
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A few moments later, Annie appeared. She stood in the doorway, looking uncertain. “What is it? I hope you're not dissatisfied with my performance.” Ridge gestured to the chair. He focused in on her words, “my performance.” The words evoked an image of her standing at the foot of his California King-sized bed, her hips swaying to the music. Dressed only in a tiny pair of thong panties and those boots, his petite bombshell would sway to the music, a private striptease just for him. Aware she'd sat and was looking at him, he pulled his thoughts away from the carnal. Damn, if she knew what I was thinking it'd be a sexual harassment lawsuit waiting to happen. Focus, man. Focus. “No, not at all.” He shuffled papers on his desk. “I just wanted to spend a little time talking to you. You've worked for me for a couple of weeks. You're doing well with the customers. I wanted to make sure you were settling in all right. Is there anything I could do to make your job easier?” She looked startled. Her gaze settled on his mouth. She licked her lips, her tiny pink tongue moistening her full, lower lip. “No,” she said after several moments. “Everything's going great. I really appreciate your giving me a chance. I know it's been a while since I tended bar, but I guess it's like riding a bike, you never forget. I really like working here.” Focus on that. I've got a good employee. I don't want to do anything to mess this up. It's been a while since I had a steady bartender, and one the clients liked too. “Great. I'm glad to hear it. The hours aren't too long are they?” Thinking of her going home alone at this time of night, even if the streets weren't bastions of crime, sat wrong with him. Not for the first time, he thought about offering her a ride home, or at least following her, but he doubted he'd drive her back to her house, or if he did, that he'd remain in the car. She's a party girl. Not what I'm looking for at all. “No, everything's all right.” She clasped her hands in her lap. Was she anxious to get home? Did she have a man waiting for her? “Good. I know this probably seems awkward, but I don't feel like I've had a chance to get to know you. I like to feel like my employees can consider me a friend, as well as someone who signs their paychecks.” He opened a folder and glanced over her crisp resume. Printed on heavyweight ivory paper, it screamed professionalism. “You used to be an accountant, right? So what do you think of your new career? They're certainly different, aren't they?” 8
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Annie grinned. Her smile lit her face. “A little, yes. I must admit, I like being a bartender. I meet new, interesting people every night. I feel like I touch people. When I was an accountant it was all about the numbers. Cold, impractical, calculating. I prefer being around people, having this feeling that I'm involved in their lives, even if all I'm doing is serving drinks.” She shook her head. “You're going to think this is silly, but I feel like I'm needed, and it's a nice feeling.” Ridge fought against a surge of lust. He needed her. Dear god, did he need her…naked with those slender limbs wrapped around him. Instead of voicing his desires, he managed a smile. “Not silly at all. So you don't see this as a transition? That you're moving on to something bigger and better?” “Is that what this is about?” Annie suppressed a grin. She'd been valued as an employee before. She worked hard to do her best, and it showed. To think Ridge worried about her leaving was a boon to her ego. No, she wouldn't leave. She liked her work, and she liked looking at Ridge. She doubted he would make a move past the employee-employer relationship barrier, and she wouldn't do anything to jeopardize her position. But if an opportunity came up, she certainly would seize it. “I just, uh, want to make sure you're happy in your position. I like to hire, and keep, good employees.” Ridge's suave words stroked more than her ego. His talk of positions made her think of a few. With him, probably good old military position would do, but she would love to have him up against a wall, riding him, even from behind while she hung onto the bar. Annie fought the heat coiling inside her. Warmth pulsed its way to her cheeks, and she hoped he attributed the blush to his compliments. “That's very nice of you. I assure you that I'm very happy here.” She rose to her feet. “If you'll excuse me, I should be heading home.” Clutching her purse in one hand, she stepped toward the door. Ridge stood. He stepped around his desk, before resting a lean hip against the dark wood. “Annie.” He reached for her. His fingers skimmed her bare arm. Shivers darted through her, and she found herself pulled toward him like some crazy magnetic force. Her lips went dry. Something about this meeting seemed off, and for a moment, she wondered if he might attempt to kiss her. No, Ridge seemed too much the professional for something between the employees. But she wished. Oh, how she wished. “Yes?” She licked her lips, noticing how Ridge's gaze seemed riveted to her 9
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mouth. He pulled her towards him. She stood so close to his thigh, she thought she felt heat radiating from his body. In her too-small halter-top and mini skirt, she felt vulnerable, exposed. Next to this man, every feminine cell in her body screamed for his touch. The roundness of her breasts, the tight beads of her nipples pressing against the fabric, everything combined to make her feel very much like a woman. Ridge stroked her arm, a steady up and down motion. His gentle touch fanned the flames of her desire, flamed she thought banked. They roared to life, sending a rush of moisture to her pussy. Her womb ached for something to fill it. Swaying in her boots, she leaned toward him. “Ridge?” The whispered question sounded more like an invitation. His fingers trailed up her arm to cup the back of her head. With a groan, he leaned forward and kissed her. His lips slanted across hers, hard and hungry, as if he'd been holding back the very same arousal she fought. The knowledge aroused Annie. She gripped his hard bicep as she swayed closer to him. His tongue traced the seal of her mouth, and gladly, she let him in. A soft moan echoed from her chest. Ridge swallowed it, the sweep of his tongue inside her mouth an intimate invitation that readied her for another, deeper penetration. Her fingers opened, her purse sliding to the floor. It landed with a soft thud. Distantly, Annie heard it, but then she twined her other hand through Ridge's hair, and nothing mattered except the silky, smooth texture of his hair against her palm. Ridge made love to her mouth. Restrained hunger filled him. She felt it in the taut way he held his body, the distance he tried to put between them even as his lips ravaged hers. She stroked her tongue along the length of his. A groan rumbled through his chest. “Oh Annie,” he breathed when he pulled away for breath, and then his lips were on hers again. She was drowning in sensations. Her breasts ached for someone to touch them, the nipples heavy with wanting. Her pussy throbbed, and moisture slicked her channel. She wanted more than his tongue; she wanted his cock buried deep inside her. She wanted to straddle his thigh, feel the hard length of muscle between her legs. Then, he pulled away. His eyes glassy with desire, Ridge looked at her. Annie struggled to pull breath into her lungs. She stepped back, her foot kicking her purse. She wobbled, reaching for him, and her hand slid off his thigh as she found 10
BAD GIRLS DO IT BETTER, VOLUME 4 “The Wrong Woman”
her balance. She picked up her purse, then turned to look back at him. Ridge sat easily on the edge of the desk, projecting a lean, corporate grace. His erection, which from the looks of it was sizeable, pressed against the placket of his pants. Her mouth watered just thinking about the length of his cock, the weight, the heft, how the silky skin would feel in her hands and in her pussy. Reluctantly, she dragged her gaze back to his face. “I should be going,” she said, unsure of how he wanted to play this, now that he'd kissed her. She refused to come across needy, though every cell in her body ached for another round preferably without clothing. “It's probably for the best,” he said. “I'm sorry. I hope you don't think I crossed any lines.” He moved back behind his desk, hiding his erection from view. “Not at all. We're both adults. It happens.” Too bad I only want it to happen more often. “Have a good night.” Before she could throw herself on him, tell him it didn't matter, she turned and walked out of his office.
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Chapter Two
With the last of the Saturday night crowd out the door, Ridge leaned against the wall and took in a deep breath. How Annie got the energy, he didn't know, but the thoughts of it had kept him wide-awake and hard for the past week. Since kissing her, he'd kept his distance, not wanting her to think he tried to cross the employee-employer line. Tonight she sported a sunny yellow dress that flirted with her knees. It dipped in the front, revealing a generous amount of her cleavage, and when she turned, he saw that the back went all the way to her waist. Which meant she wasn’t wearing a bra. The thought had kept him at full mast all night. Thank goodness, the low lighting and his dark pants kept his condition from being visible. A week of turning the puzzle of Annie over in his mind, and he still wasn't any closer to solving it. On the outside she looked like a party girl and raked in the tips. The customers adored her sassy wit and her cleavage. She kissed like an angel. Yet deep inside, he sensed that she wished for a quiet night in front of the television instead of mixing drinks at a trendy bar. The kiss. His mind kept going back to it. He remembered how pliant Annie had gone in his arms, how she molded herself to his body. His cock hardened. He figured that as long as Annie worked for him, he'd walk around with a permanent hard-on. Could be worse things, he guessed, though he wondered what would happen if he could convince Annie to wrap her slender fingers around it and pump. A girl like her might be into a quickie, and he needed relief in the worst way. Just mindless sex. What could be more fun? Ridge closed his eyes and exhaled to try and get the image of Annie wearing nothing but her clunky boots out of his mind. He promised himself a real woman, someone with hopes and desires that matched his own. Settling down, finding a comfortable niche in life, that's what he wanted, not yet another party girl ready to run when the sun came up. Keep telling yourself that buddy, and it might be true. He grinned and raked his fingers through his hair. 12
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He watched her finish wiping down the bar, then sling her purse over her shoulder. She was leaving. The realization galvanized him into action. He hurried out of his office. “You leaving?” he called across the empty bar. She turned and grinned. “Yep. Everything looks good here, and it's been a busy night.” He allowed his gaze to take in the sight of her without the bar between them. If he played his cards right, he could make it a busier one for her. “You have plans? A hot date?” She chuckled. The husky notes went straight to his groin. “Hardly. Going home to curl up with a good book.” Her grin faded away, and she looked almost embarrassed by her words. His heart jumped. A good book might mean she wasn't the party girl he'd painted her to be. Had he been wrong? “Have a good night then. See you tomorrow afternoon.” “You too.” She turned and left him with the view of her shapely ass. The door closed behind her. He stepped forward, then stopped, realizing he was going to follow her, to see if she truly would go home. The light glinted off of something at the bar. He walked over and saw a cell phone--her cell phone--lying there. With a grin, Ridge pocketed the trophy. No one, and especially not a hip, popular woman, would want to be without a cell phone. He could return it to her. Call it a mission of mercy, but curiosity gnawed at him. He wanted to know whether she'd go home or not. And now he had a chance to find out. Whistling a tune, he returned to his office to grab his keys and lock up.
*** Thirty minutes later, Ridge pulled up in front of a modest one-story home in a decent neighborhood. A light burned in the living room with a lower glare coming out of another window in the house. A nightlight? He grinned. The thought of Annie needing a night-light warmed him, and added to his growing image of her as a down-to-earth gal. He checked his watch, grimacing at the late hour. “I must look like a stalker,” he muttered to himself. Pulling her cell phone from his pocket, he held it before him like a peace offering. “I'm just returning her cell phone. I'm not even going to step inside.” He ascended the two stairs to her front door and rang the doorbell. The musical chime sounded through the house and moments later he heard footsteps. A shadow 13
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moved behind the door, and then it opened. “Ridge? What are you doing here?” Annie stood behind the door, but he thought he had a glimpse of cotton pajamas with puppy dogs. Thick blue socks covered her feet. Her bare leg poked from beneath the hem, and although he'd seen her legs before, tonight he couldn't imagine a more erotic sight. He held out her cell phone. “You left this at the bar. I thought you might miss it.” The aroma of a baking lasagna drifted out the door. She took the phone, her slender fingers brushing his. “Thanks.” She glanced out at the dark night. “Why don't you come in? I can get you a cup of coffee or a snack for your troubles.” She stepped aside and opened the door. “That'd be great.” And he stepped into her foyer. Annie watched Ridge enter, wishing she'd worn something better than her comfortable pajama shirt and thick socks. With her makeup already scrubbed off her face and her hair shoved back from her face with a thick terrycloth band, she must look like a fright. Yet, his eyes lit up when he saw her and he had returned her cell phone. “Thanks,” she said as she closed the door behind him. “You can hang your coat up on the rack there if you want. The kitchen is just through the door.” She hurried away from him and down the hall to wrap herself in her robe. She emerged a few moments later wrapped in a blue terry cloth robe. Yeah, this is more alluring than a pajama shirt covered with puppies and thick socks. She imagined seeing her home through Ridge's eyes and winced. It certainly didn't project the party girl image she'd been trying to give. He probably thinks I'm too boring, too pedestrian for someone like him. She stepped into the kitchen and saw him standing at her baker's rack looking at her collection of chicken statues. Yep, way too boring for the likes of him. “They were my grandmother's,” she said as she grabbed a glass out of the cupboard. “What would you like to drink?” She opened her fridge. “I have diet soda, water, milk, and juice.” “Water would be fine.” He glanced toward the stove. “You had time to put lasagna in the oven? You must be super woman.” “Nope, just incredibly prepared. I made it and put it in the fridge before I left. All I had to do was pre-heat the oven and pop it in.” She handed him a glass of water from the dispenser on the front of the fridge. “Would you like some? I always make enough food for an army.” She closed her mouth, wondering why she'd issue the 14
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invitation. Party girls took their men out to fancy, swank restaurants. “Sounds wonderful. Is there anything I can do to help?” Annie shook her head. “I've got everything covered.” In a few moments she had the table set, a loaf of French bread added to the oven, and sipped a glass of tea. She sat beside him. “I really do appreciate your taking the time to return my cell phone.” She supposed now would be the time to make a remark about how glued she was to it, or something to help revive her image. He couldn't fire her for lounging around in puppy dog pajamas, or at least she didn't think so. Just then the timer dinged on the oven, saving her from building the reputation she didn't have. She rose to her feet and grabbed an oven mitt. Moments later the lasagna sat on the top of the stove. She let it cool for a bit, glad she could attribute the heat in her cheeks to the oven rather than to Ridge's presence. Then, she loaded their plates. “Smells wonderful,” he said as he picked up a fork. “I can't remember how long it's been since anyone's cooked for me.” With a smile he dove into the meal. Annie used the pretense of eating to cover up her nervousness. If the woman he usually dated didn't cook, then perhaps he was drawn toward the party type. And I can put on all the short skirts in the world. Deep down, I'll still be a homebody. She suppressed a sigh of disappointment and concentrated on her meal. Ridge watched Annie eat. She acted seductive without even knowing it, wrapping her lips around her fork. The movement of her mouth, the way she swallowed. She closed her eyes as she ate, savoring every morsel. He wondered if she'd look like that while making love. He shifted in his seat. She finished her meal, then rose and started rinsing off dishes. His plate had emptied long ago. He hadn't realized he was so hungry, and Annie's cooking tasted like ambrosia. She moved around the kitchen rinsing dishes and putting them in the dishwasher. Once again she'd refused his help. He should leave. Now, before his base desires got the better of him. Even if they weren't at the club, he was still her employer. Some lines just shouldn't be crossed. Annie turned around. She stood by the sink, and the lighting illuminated her thin nightgown. The swell of her breasts and her nipples showed clearly through the fabric. Ridge stood. “I should leave.” He strode toward her, his gaze sweeping over her body. Her fuzzy slippers and nightshirt differed so much from the women he usually dated, he thought her beautiful. A goddess in the bar and in the kitchen. Just looking at her sent a 15
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rush of blood to his cock. The rational part of his mind told him to turn, to leave before he did what he'd been longing to do ever since she'd stepped into his office for an interview. Their kiss had whetted his appetite for more. “But I don't want to.” He told the rational part of his mind to shut up and prepared to feel, just feel. His hand cupped her cheek. Annie leaned into his touch. Her eyelids fluttered closed, her lashes a sooty fan across her pale cheeks. Her lips parted, and her soft exhale spoke of acceptance. With his thumb, he brushed her full, lower lip. A slight shudder ran through her, and he felt it echo in him. Just a taste, he promised himself. Anything else would be too much, enough to shatter the pretext of a professional relationship between them. Annie reached for him. She tangled her fingers in his hair and pulled his lips to hers. She kissed him, taking all choice from him with the sweep of her warm, moist lips across his. She tasted like warm spices and rich tomato sauce, a welcoming kitchen in which he could stay a while. Her fingers curled around the back of his neck. Ridge crushed her to him. Her curves flatted against his hard body, and he fought back a groan. With his hand splayed against her lower back, he rocked her against him. His cock jumped, brought to full mast by the touch of her lips against his. He tunneled his fingers through her hair, wanting to hold her against her, to devour her until they combined in an inferno of desire. Never before had need slammed into him so hard, so fast with another woman. She clamped her other hand on his biceps, holding tight. In his arms, she felt so small and slight that he longed to protect her. He grabbed the hem of her nightshirt and slid his hand beneath. Her fiery skin burned in his palm, silky smooth and inviting. The curve of her ribs beaconed, her back toned, the curve of her spine tempting. He swept his fingers over her skin. Just touching her, kissing her, brought him a feeling more complete than anything he ever felt before. He pulled back. Whoa boy. This was supposed to be just sex. Two bodies coming together. If Annie sensed his hesitation, she didn't stop. Instead, she pulled him back to her, and captured his lips with her own again. Her hard, hungry kiss made no doubt she knew exactly what she wanted. Her tongue dueled with his, the caress intimate and demanding. Her hand flatted on his chest, sliding over his flat nipples and over his abdomen. He wanted to stop her. Knew he should stop her, yet when her fingers closed 16
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around the hot, hard length of him he couldn't refuse her. She squeezed gently. The soft pressure evoked a groan. He wanted her now. Back against the counter, over the kitchen table, it didn't matter. When she snaked her leg around his hip and pressed her hot core against him, he grabbed her waist and set her on the counter. He slipped his hand beneath the hem of her nightshirt and found her pussy. Her damp panties told him more than anything how much she wanted him. As if someone had given him the go ahead, he slipped his fingers beneath to caress her silk folds. Annie pulled her lips from his and titled her head back. Yes! Yes! She parted her legs giving him better access to her hungry sex. When she felt his cock in her hands, even covered by denim, she thought she might come right there. Imagining the hard length of him inside her sent a flood of moisture to her pussy. Finally, she had Ridge exactly where she wanted him, in her arms, and soon inside her. His fingers toyed across her labia. A quick tug, and her panties fell to the floor. She reached for his jeans, deftly unbuttoning the top, then slowly lowering his zipper. He didn't stop her, though his fingers quickened their pace against her slick folds. Every fantasy was being fulfilled right in her kitchen. The cool metal of the sink pressed against her buttocks, contrasting sharply with the heat Ridge evoked inside her. Her breath quickened, her hips straining to reach him. Two fingers thrust inside her, and Annie keened her pleasure. “God, yes,” she breathed as she freed him from the confines of his boxers. Long and hard, Ridge's cock filled her hand. She curled her fingers around it and found her fingertips barely met. Just imagining his length inside her sent a fresh rush of cream to her pussy. For too long she'd denied herself. Now, it was time for her to claim what she wanted. His jeans fell to the floor with a soft swish of fabric. Annie caressed his head with her thumb, smearing the bead of moisture that had formed into his flesh. She wanted to press her face into his groin and inhale his musky scent. Not right now, but later, most definitely later. Ridge thrust gently, caressing her clit with his thumb. With his free hand, he reached for the hem of her shirt and pulled it up to reveal her breasts. Annie paused in stroking him to remove her nightshirt and send it dropping to the floor. Ridge stared at her breasts. Her nipples, hard with desire, pointed directly at him, begging for his lips. Leaning forward he breathed gently first on one, then the other, 17
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giving a quick lick with his tongue before capturing one of the nipples in his mouth and sucking hard. His other hand slid from her pussy to fondle her breast. He pinched her nipples between his fingers. Annie rode the sensations pulsing through her. She clasped the back of his head, feeling the electric current between his mouth, her nipple, and her cunt. A fresh rush of cream filled her. It dripped down her legs as she fastened them around Ridge's hips. She felt like a wild woman, not the homebody who stayed home in t-shirts and sweats watching television or cross-stitching. The woman who knitted mittens for the local women's shelter each holiday season faded beneath the onslaught of his fingers and mouth. In her place sat a sex kitten, wound up and ready to purr. The way Ridge focused on her, worshipping her skin, made her feel seductive and feminine. He wanted her. Annie, former accountant, had snared the owner of the hottest nightclub in town. Opening her eyes, she focused her gaze on the top of Ridge's head. She didn't want to miss a moment. Watching him, his hair dark against her pale skin, she memorized the way he looked against her breast. His soft sucking sounds aroused her. His smell, a male, herbal woodsy smell that could only come from cologne, tantalized her nose. She inhaled deeply. Ridge pulled away. She whimpered and reached for him. The need to hold him close pounded through her. Already, her nipple missed the warm cavern of his mouth, and her pussy ached to be touched. “This'll be more comfortable.” Ridge grabbed her around the waist and set her on the floor. He paused long enough to kick off his boxers and grab something from the pocket of his jeans, and then he pulled her toward a chair. He sat and directed her into his lap. She straddled him, resting on his warm thighs. His cock rose between them, and Annie couldn't resist the urge to reach down and fondle it. His husky sigh of pleasure made her smile. Her grin widened when he handed her the condom. Ripping open the package, she sheathed him with it, then rose so the tip of him brushed her wet pussy. She grabbed the base of him and looked him in the eyes. “You want in?” “Yeah.” His husky admission filled her ears. He grabbed her waist, and slowly, 18
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inch by inch, sheathed himself inside her. A slow, pleasurable filling, Annie savored every moment. His width parted her walls, sliding thick and long inside her. She moaned aloud, riding the waves of pleasure racing through her. Oh yeah, it couldn't get much better than this. Fully impaled, she sat on his lap and looked into Ridge's eyes. He studied her, his gaze never dipping below her lips, then leaned forward and kissed her. Joined, his hard, hungry kiss gave new meaning, and when he thrust his tongue into her mouth, she tightened her pussy in response. Soon, he had her squirming in his lap. She couldn't wait. Rising, she moved off of him, then down again, riding him with long, slow strokes. She savored every moment, rolling her hips to enjoy the friction. Ridge's hands clamped tightly onto her hips. “I can't wait,” he growled. “Too much.” He slammed into her. His quick, hard thrusts had her panting. She clamped her hands on his shoulders, hanging on for the ride of her life. So much pleasure coursed through her, Annie closed her eyes and tilted her head back. Too much. She exploded with a scream, her body rippling and convulsing around his cock. “Oh yeah,” Ridge groaned. He held her hips, keeping the rhythm while she exploded on top of him. Her cries turned into breathy moans as she started to rise again. Annie kept her eyes closed. Lights exploded behind her closed eyelids as she came again. And again. More times than she cared to count, Ridge's hard thrusts and stroking fingers drawing out her pleasure over and over again. These were the kinds of orgasms party girls had. She hadn't come more than once or twice in a lovemaking session before. At last Ridge buried his head against her shoulder. He stiffened beneath her and she felt his cock pump as he released inside her. The barrier of latex seemed too much for the intimacy of the moment, and Annie clung to him. For long moments the sound of their shared panting filled the kitchen. Oh god, she sat naked on her boss, with his cock buried inside her. How could something she'd wanted for so long feel so bad?
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Chapter Three
“So girl, you got a live one for tonight?” Donnie asked as he accepted his bar order. Annie fought the urge to flush. Luckily, in the weeks she'd worked here, her natural tendency to blush came less and less. “I'm going home and curling up with a good book.” She deftly poured a scotch on the rocks and added it to his tray. “That's no fun.” Donnie grinned. “I've got a few friends I could hook you up with. You could come with me after work.” At her dubious expression his smile widened. “C'mon. It'll be fun. You'll have a blast.” He leaned in closer. “Hot, young college guys. An older, experienced woman like you. Imagine the possibilities.” Her blush deepened and he headed back into the modest throng of people with a chuckle. Annie watched him go. If she wanted to keep up her party girl image she supposed she should have taken Donnie up on his offer. Somehow, she didn't feel up to it. Since having sex with Ridge in her kitchen... Annie shook her head not wanting to go down that road. It was a one-time fling, something a party girl would do. And it felt so good. I'm liking this party girl gig. She headed to the other end of the bar and took orders. By now, the way the men's eyes strayed to her cleavage, visible in the scoop-necked red shirt she wore, and their gazes following her up and down the bar didn't bother her. Just another part of the job. And who would imagine accountant Annie dressed up like this and turning men's heads. She gave a little flourish as she poured a jack and coke and handed it to the man sitting at the bar. From across the room, someone watched her. She didn't have to look up to know who it was. No, she'd feel Ridge's steely gaze anywhere. Trying to ignore it, she concentrated on doing her job. A crowd collected around the bar, keeping her busy, and soon, she shoved all thoughts of Ridge's stare out of her mind. But not away from her body. Her shoulder blades tingled with the force of his 20
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regard. Her nipples hardened, pebbling so tight they shone through her shirt. She blamed it on the air conditioning. Still, she knew better, and the knowledge Ridge worked just across the bar only made his regard that much more potent. The crowd drifted away as the hour grew later. At last, the bar closed, leaving Annie alone to clean up once again. The nightly ebb and flow of patrons created a routine. Get the bar ready for the rush, deal with the crowds, and then clean up afterwards. All of which happened under Ridge's discerning eye. “So,” Donnie said, leaning against her freshly cleaned bar. Annie watched him. Words to scold him sprang to her lips. Instead she pointed at the polished surface that his arm had just smeared and shook her head. Donnie sat back. “You're fanatic about this bar, aren't you?” he said. “I cleaned it. It'd be nice to appreciate my work before tomorrow night's crowd smears it.” She grinned. “So what brings you to my corner of the bar without an order in hand?” “You need a date.” His blunt words shocked Annie. “What?” She took a step back and folded her arms across her chest. The rag dangled from her fingers, the cool material brushing her bare stomach. “You're obsessed with this, aren't you?” “You're a beautiful, smart, talented woman, and any man would be crazy not to have you. Except me. I'm a confirmed bachelor, and you need a forever kind of guy.” He chuckled at her shocked expression. “I'm not as obtuse as you think I am.” “I'm not looking for forever.” She risked a glance back to Ridge's office. “I'm just looking for….” Her words trailed off as she realized she didn't know for what she looked. “I'm not interested right now,” she said at last. Donnie gave her a knowing grin, and Annie knew he didn't believe her.
*** Listening to Donnie talk to Annie had his guts in a knot. After what they shared in her kitchen, how could she be contemplating going out on a date with Donnie and his friends. He'd heard Donnie's exploits. The boy was notorious on campus for being a lady's man. No doubt his friends would be so much worse. Ridge pressed his hand against the wall and growled under his breath. Annie laughed. She tilted her head back, and her breasts wiggled invitingly in her low-cut shirt. Tonight, she didn't wear a bra, unlike last night when the black lace peeked through her 21
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sheer shirt like an invitation to sin. He fisted his hand to keep from reaching out and trying to touch her through the smoky two-way glass. In his black jeans, his cock hardened. Another night of watching Annie, another hard-on that nothing could soothe. Yet she said she didn't have a date. Could his party girl be something of a homebody? His heart, and other body parts, gave a leap. He knew it was true. From her homemade lasagna, even if she said she made it before going to work, to the way she seemed so comfortable in her oversized t-shirt. He watched, and listened, to her banter with Donnie. She worked while she chatted, finishing setting the bars to right. As he watched her, Ridge fought the need growing inside him. He wanted her, both in his bar and in his bed. Surely there could be a way things could work out. In his quest to find the perfect, settle-down kind of girl, he knew, instinctively knew, he'd found what he sought in Annie. Now, to remove those silly notions of hers that she had to be a party girl. Not that he minded the clothes, or the view. Grinning, he watched Donnie leave. She turned to rinse and wash the last few glasses. His gaze settled on her perfectly curved ass. His fingers clenched, remembering how it felt in his hands. Now or never, old boy. He strode out of his office, ready to make the first move With each step across his bar his confidence rose. This was his domain, all gleaming chrome and dark, heavy tables. Like a panther stalking his prey, he threaded his way through the tables with chairs stacked on top. His heart pounded. He stared at Annie, held her with his gaze, while she worked on the bar. She looked up, and in the mirror, their gazes collided. Her lips parted. She moistened them, her tiny pink tongue torturing him with its appearance. How she tasted, how she felt above him, her pussy gloving his cock as if the two had been made for each other, all the images filled his mind. He stifled a groan. He'd thought, hoped even, that being with Annie would get her out of his system. Instead, it intensified the ache. Every night he thought about her, and every evening while they worked, he couldn't help but hear her infectious laugh, or smell the hint of her perfume. With a slight shake of his head, he headed to the bar. Annie turned around. She gasped at the sight of him, stepping back. “You startled me,” she admitted, dropping the scrub rag into the bucket of disinfectant. “It was busy for a Wednesday night, wasn't it?” Ridge nodded. The small talk would help soothe her nerves, make her less jumpy. 22
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He closed his hand over hers on the bar. With her slender fingers encased in his, he thought about his body covering hers, her legs around his hips, and her arms around his waist. He willed his body to behave. “It was, but I put out a new advertising campaign.” She nodded. “Oh. That makes sense then.” Annie glanced at his hand. He stroked his thumb lightly along the back of her hand, and felt the shiver that darted through her body. She licked her lips. Through his hand he felt her tiny tremors, like a deer in the sights of a predator. “I really should be heading home.” She started to pull away. He closed his fingers around her wrist. “Wait.” Leaning forward, he brushed a strand of hair away from her face, trailing his fingers over her cheeks. “I know tomorrow is your night off. Do you want to go out? Dinner perhaps? We kind of did things backwards. I'm supposed to woo you before we sleep together.” He grinned, turning on his charm. Annie chuckled nervously. “We didn't exactly sleep.” A blush crept over her neck and cheeks, the rosy color endearing. “And I don't know if we should be seeing each other. You're my boss.” Her voice trailed into silence. “But what if I wasn't? You'd agree to date with me then, right?” Her eyes widened. “You're not--” “No, I'm not going to fire you, but if I weren't your boss then you'd accept without a second thought, right?” Ridge bit back a chuckle. She seemed so sure about proprietary, what should or shouldn't be done. Her party girl persona had a crack in it, a big one, and he intended to exploit it all he could. “I would.” She spoke hesitantly. “But you are my boss.” “Not tomorrow night. You have the night off.” He winked at her. “So what do you say?” Annie sighed. He felt her capitulation a moment before she leaned forward, tempting him with a view of her lush breasts. “You have yourself a deal. You know my address. Why don't you pick me up about seven?” She slid her fingers from beneath his, then turned and strode away with a hip-swaying walk that made his mouth dry. Ridge watched her leave. The party girl had returned, but only after careful thought. He'd done it. He'd convinced Annie to go out on a date, now to make her see he needed something more than a party girl.
*** 23
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The subdued lighting and corner table served to hide them from view. After calling in a few favors to get a reservation at Dominic's, a restaurant on the trendy side of town, Ridge planned to give Annie the night of her life. Dinner, dancing, even a walk in the park if she wanted it. All designed to make her see that he was looking for a longterm girl. If he wanted a fling, he would have spared the expense. Sitting across from Annie, he enjoyed the view she provided in her little black dress. The skirt barely covered her curvy rear, and the spaghetti straps and low-cut back told him that she wasn’t wearing a bra. Once again, he wondered how he'd get through the night, but handle it, he would. “How is the meal?” he asked, drawing his attention away from her red lips closing around a bite of lobster. She closed her eyes and sighed, a truly decadent sound. “Wonderful. I don't think I've ever eaten anything as good.” She set her tiny lobster fork down by her plate. “You've hardly touched yours. Is everything all right?” He glanced at his steak, rare just as he liked it, and his tray of stuffed scallops. Delicious, as always, yet he preferred watching the woman sitting across from him. “It's wonderful. You distract me. Here, try some of mine.” He took a clean fork and speared a bite of steak. “If you liked the lobster, you'll love this.” He held out the fork like an offering. Annie stared at the bit of beef on the end of the clean fork. Her mouth watered. Steak, especially all pink and bloody like his, was one of her indulgences. Leaning forward, she provided him with a generous view of her unbound breasts, and took the fork into her mouth. She closed her eyes as she closed her lips around the tines, and then slowly, pulled the meat into her mouth. She chewed slowly, savoring every drop of juice, every bite, and then swallowed. Across the table, Ridge groaned. Beneath the table, she slipped her foot from her high heel and flexed her toes against the carpet. She fought the urge to smile as she stretched out her foot and brushed Ridge's leg with her stocking clad toes. He jumped. A tiny flinch, but enough to let her know he wasn't unaffected. She toyed with the last of her meal. Let him think it an accidental touch. Slowly, she stroked her foot across his trouser leg. The material, soft against her foot, made her curl her toes against him. Higher and higher, until her foot rested against his inner thigh. “Annie,” Ridge warned. She smiled impishly. “Yes?” Deliberately, she speared a small carrot with her 24
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fork and brought it to her lips. She chewed thoughtfully, closing her eyes and giving tiny moans of pleasure. She inched her foot higher until her toes curled against his balls. From across the table, Ridge raised an eyebrow. In the darkened corner, it might as well have been the two of them. Heavy drapes framed the table, hiding them from view. Ridge sipped his wine, and Annie had to give him credit. His hand didn't shake. Her foot inched higher. The heavy ridge of his erection pressed against his fly. She curled her toes around it and stroked gently. Ridge reached under the table. He closed his fingers around her slender ankle. Heat burned through her stockings to scorch her skin. Tiny flares darted up her legs and into her pussy. Sitting across the table from Ridge like this, she felt so wanton, so ready for anything. Her nipples tightened. It thrilled her, and from the hungry look in Ridge's eyes, he didn't mind either. Slowly, he stroked her ankle, his fingers curling around her calf. If he didn't stop she'd walk out of there with a wet spot on the back of her skirt, and for once, Annie didn't mind. She reveled in the bad girl persona. Leaning forward, she licked her lips. “Shall we call for the check? I'm sure there are other places you'd like to take me.” Ridge released her ankle. Discreetly, he motioned for the check, and less than ten minutes later he escorted her out to his car. She sat in the passenger seat, loving the way the buttery soft leather molded to her. Ridge handled the car with ease, heading toward a neighborhood full of rich homes and luxury condominiums. Of course he'd live in this area. He owned one of the hottest nightspots in town. He headed past the homes, past the condominiums reaching toward the sky like silvery glassy fingers. Moonlight glinted off the chrome and glass fronts, lending an almost surreal air to the drive. Across the road tress reached skeletal fingers toward the sky. Ridge turned down a small lane. It led past a lake, the moonlight glinting silver off the water. A few Canadian geese swam past, silent shadows in the dark. Ridge parked the car. The cool, dark atmosphere felt almost spooky, though Halloween was several weeks ago and the holidays recently past. Yet, within the warm car, with Ridge sitting beside her, she felt warm, secure. He wrapped his arm around her. “This is my favorite place,” he said. “Sometimes I like to come out here and just watch the ripples of moonlight on the water. It's so serene. So quiet, especially after a hectic night at the club.” His words wove a spell around her, one of comfort and security. Annie closed her 25
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eyes and leaned against his shoulder. “That sounds so nice.” She rested her hand against his chest, his heart beating beneath her palm. She willed herself not to be pulled into his spell. His words spoke of a long-term kind of girl, a forever kind of girl, and she couldn't be that. Not for him. If he finds out I was a boring accountant who wore blouses buttoned up to my neck, long sleeves, and skirts to my shins, he wouldn't want to be here. No, he's sharing the night with Annie the party girl. Not me. Not really. “It is,” he replied. His breath teased strands of her hair, warm against her cheek. Tilting her head, Annie stared at him. In the moonlight, staring out at the lake, he looked more solid, more real. She reached up and caressed the line of his jaw, feeling his smooth skin beneath her fingers. Her thumb brushed across his lower lip, back and forth, like the tides pulling inside her. She wanted him, wanted this, ever since she'd applied for the job at his bar. That she would be his bartender didn't matter. Their employeeemployer situation didn't matter. Not to her, not in the deep, dark recesses of her heart where her wild woman lived. She pressed her lips to his chin and kissed him. Ridge turned to face her. He cupped her cheek, his fingers delving into her hair. She left it loose and it hung around her face. He fingered the silky strands, then lifted a handful to his nose and inhaled. “I love the way you smell. Your scent teases me. I'll get a hint of it as you walk through the bar, or as I pass you, and my gut clenches. I get hard just smelling it, because I know how you taste, how you feel.” He closed his eyes and pulled back as if he were struggling for control. “I want to bury myself in you so badly I ache.” “Then why don't you?” Annie followed him, leaning across the console between the seats. “I'm yours.” The moment she spoke the words she knew they were true. Heaven help her if he didn't want a down-to-earth girl because she'd given herself to Ridge, body and soul. She started to pull away, but his fingers snagged around her wrist, hauling her against him. “Do you mean that? That you're mine? Mine to do with as I wish?” His husky words sent shivers down her spine. “Yes.” Reaching up, she caressed his lower lip. “Because I suspect you're mine to do with what I wish.” Primly, she returned to her seat and refastened her seatbelt. The look he sent her could have scorched metal. Instead, it made her melt inside. He started the car and backed out of the parking place. “I'm going to hold you to that.” And then they were speeding through the streets. 26
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Chapter Four
The ride back to Ridge's home exhilarated her. Sitting in his sleek luxury car while he navigated the streets, pulling into the parking garage of the chrome and steel luxury condominium unit, all of it went well past her experience. Her small bungalow on the other side of town seemed a far cry from his penthouse. If Ridge ached to pull her into his arms and kissed her, he hid the urge well. Opening her car door, he acted like a consummate gentleman. He walked beside her through the parking garage, pausing at the elevator, then sliding his key card and punching the button for the top floor. The elevator whooshed toward the sky, and Annie fought nervous butterflies in her stomach. Ridge brought her home. Not to a hotel, though she had no doubts that he could afford the poshest suite in town. Not back to her house, where he'd already been, and would be on safer ground. No, he brought her to the inner sanctum, his home, and she wondered what she'd find. The quick elevator ride gave her no chance to ponder, for the car stopped smoothly and the doors opened onto a carpeted, wood paneled hallway. Ridge curled his hand around her arm. Afraid she might leave? His gentle touch warmed her. Beneath her heels, the thick carpet cushioned their footfalls. Silence reigned in the hallway. The soft rasp of Ridge's breathing, the jangling of keys, she heard each sound, acutely aware of the threshold she was about to cross. He stopped in front of a black door at the end of the hall. No gold numbers proclaimed an apartment number. Only a discreet intercom button sat to one side. With the lack of doors along the hallway, albeit a short hallway, Annie wondered if he occupied the entire top floor of the building. If he hadn’t been holding her elbow, she feared her knees might have weakened. I didn't know what I was getting into, did I? The thought that Ridge might be rich enough to own the entire top floor of the building gave her pause. His gentle touch aroused her, but the visible evidence of his bank account sent a flood of moisture to her pussy. She'd never made love to a rich man before, and the accountant in her appreciated 27
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the finery. Ridge unlocked the door. He led her inside, pausing at the foyer to remove his coat, and then help her out of hers. Annie studied the stark, masculine decor. Gleaming woods and leather met her gaze in the sunken living room. A fireplace flanked by polished stone dominated one wall of the living room. Pictures sat on the mantle, a few trophies in a case in the corner. It looked neat and tidy. “Ahh, I see Elle has been here,” he said. “Would you like something to drink? A glass of wine?” He tapped a button on the wall and soft jazz music filled the air. “Wine would fine, thank you.” She watched him go. “Elle?” He chuckled. “My cleaning lady. Not that I make much of a mess, but she does the little chores, I don't have time to do myself. Oh, and apparently leaves me cheesecakes.” She heard him rustling around in the kitchen. Annie stepped down into the living room. Her heels sank into the plush, cream Berber carpet. The furnishings screamed opulence, and suddenly, she felt very lost. She stopped at the mantel, noticing pictures of him and family, she wondered, though she didn't speak about his family. One picture showed him in full ski gear smiling on a snowy mountaintop. Another showed him in London, and a third picture showed him with a smiling woman in Paris. A twinge of jealousy hit her. What was she doing here? She played at being a party girl. If he knew she hadn't even left the states. Hell, Annie snorted to herself, I haven't even been east of the Mississippi. A presence stood behind her, and she turned to see Ridge standing there. “My sister,” he said gesturing to the picture of him and a woman in Paris. “She was studying abroad and I went to see her.” “That sounds lovely,” Annie said. “I've always wanted to see Paris.” “Maybe one day you will.” He cupped her cheek. “I can't believe someone hasn't swept a beautiful woman like you away. I'd love to show you the world, Annie.” She cupped his arm, closing her fingers around his hard muscles. She swayed toward him, her knees suddenly unwilling to support her. Such words would give her ideas, make her think things she shouldn't. His arm wrapped around her, hauling her tight against his body. Every plane of muscle pressed against her soft skin; her breasts against his chest, her thighs tangled with his. She hummed all over. Her lips parted, and she gave a little gasp. “I can't help myself,” Ridge whispered an instant before his lips covered hers. 28
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Unlike the heated coupling in her kitchen, his lips cherished hers. He drank from her, breathing in her scent. Annie's eyelids fluttered closed, her other hand splayed against his chest. Heat tightened deep inside her, making her long for the feel of his thick cock sliding deep into her slick folds. The soft carpet beaconed. A part of her wanted him to lower her to the carpet, peel her dress from her body, and make love to her until she couldn't move. She moaned as his tongue traced her lower lip. He cupped the back of her head, and she let the magic of his touch flow over her. For tonight, she'd be Annie the party girl, ready to sleep with a handsome, rich, bachelor. She'd let tomorrow take care of itself. Ridge sensed the moment she surrendered to him. Her plaint, soft body molded to his, and he slipped a hard thigh between her legs. He lifted it, pressing against her mons, and she moaned. The needy sound went straight to his cock, and it twitched painfully in his pants. He wouldn't take her like a stag in rut. No, Annie deserved tenderness. She arched against him, rubbing herself against his thigh, and through the fabric of his pants, he felt her wet heat. He willed himself to hang on, to do this right. His hand skimmed over her side, pausing at the curve of her breast. He flicked the hard nipple with his thumb, drawing another moan from her. At this rate, he'd simply burn to cinders in her arms and there would be nothing left. Ridge scooped Annie into his arms. She gave a shriek of delight, and then snuggled closer to his chest. Long strides carried him through the living room, down the hall, to his large master suite. A huge king-sized bed dominated the room. Gently, he set her down on the thick, satin comforter, black, then started peeling off her clothing. Her shoes fell first, strappy heels that had him hard from the moment he'd seen her in them. Walking his fingers up her legs, he found the top of her stockings and bit back a groan. Thigh-highs with a real garter belt. He left them on, pulling down her thong. Dear god, she was trying to kill him. He flipped open the button on his pants, the only relief he'd allow himself. She lay on his bed, legs spread. His gaze fastened onto the damp curls covering her sex, the lips plump and pink with arousal. Crawling over her, he struggled not to rub against her like a cat in heat. Instead, he found the zipper of her dress and pulled it down, leaving her naked, except for the stockings and garters. She looked like a fantasy come to life. Staring at her, he licked his lips. His mouth went dry, and his heart pounded in 29
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his chest. Party girl, homebody, it didn't matter to him. Not at this moment. Right now, he had Annie exactly where he wanted her, and he didn't intend to let her get away. “You're beautiful,” he breathed, quickly stripping out of his own clothing. He paused long enough to pull open the nightstand drawer and toss a handful of condoms next to his lamp. Ridge crawled onto the bed beside her. Determined to take it slow, he started with soft, tiny kisses. Her forehead, her eyelids, he rained the butterfly-light caresses over her face before settling onto her lips. His tongue slipped into her mouth, and it took all his control not to slide between her thighs and take her then and there. I want to show her how good it can be. How right it can be between us. No other woman had graced this bed, and it seemed right that Annie be the first. And, if he had anything to say about it, the last. He laved kisses over her collarbone, then down to pull a turgid nipple into his mouth. He bit gently, loving the way she cried out and her fingers tunneled through his hair, holding him to her. She writhed beneath him as he palmed her other breast. No inch of her skin went without attention. Her hips, her navel, her long, lean legs. Even her toes garnered the brush of his lips and the caress of her delicately arched feet. Then, he moved over her. A finger caressed her damp folds, her slick skin parting in welcome. He circled the bud of her clit, feeling her tighten with each stroke. And then she came, shattering apart at his touch. He slipped a finger inside her, feeling her clamp down on his thick digit. “Ridge! Oh Ridge!” she breathed as the tremors subsided. He moved between her legs. His cock jerked at the prospect of being inside her. Protection! He'd almost forgotten. He pulled away long enough to roll on the condom, and then returned. She clutched at him, her fingers digging into his ass. “Please,” she whimpered. “With pleasure,” he said, leaning down to kiss her. His tongue slid past her lips the moment his cock thrust into her slick channel. Her muscles clamped around him, holding him there. He remained still for long moments, absorbing the feeling of being buried deep inside Annie's hot little body. He pulled out until only his tip rested inside her. Then, he surged forward again. Over and over he plunged into her body, feeling her tighten around him. Annie cried out, 30
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her pussy milking his cock. The convulsions drove him harder, faster. The world blurred. There was only him, Annie, and the relentless thrust of their bodies reaching toward the pinnacle of release. So hot, so tight, and then she clutched at him as she came again. Her responsiveness triggered him, and soon, his balls drew tight against his body and he came. His cock pumped deep inside her body, a rush so deep he saw stars before his eyes. He had the sense of mind to roll to one side, bringing Annie with him. She snuggled into his warmth, her arms wrapped around him. Ridge lay there, trying to catch his breath. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, then rolled away long enough to discard the condom, then he returned and took her into his arms. Already, his cock stirred, but he ignored it for now. “That was wonderful,” she murmured, pressing her palm flat against his chest. “Makes me wonder what you'll do for an encore.” Against his skin, she grinned. His fingers skimmed her sides. “You'll have to keep guessing,” he said, his hand stopping on her breast and cupping its weight. “But I never leave a woman unsatisfied, and something tells me you’re insatiable.” He bent his head to her breast and drew the nipple into his mouth. She moaned and writhed beneath him, and Ridge knew he'd never grow tired of her responsiveness. Hell, he'd never grow tired of her.
*** In the light of day, Annie realized she didn't want to go back to her button-down, corporate ways. Ridge had brought her back to her apartment after a leisurely breakfast, and left her with a kiss on the cheek and a promise to see her that night. Moving around her house, doing minor chores, Annie tried not to think too much about Ridge and his promises. No, any changes she made in her life, she had to make for herself, not for him. Still, it felt good to be wanted. She paused at the kitchen sink, her fingers trailing idly over the counter where they'd nearly made love. She glanced back at the chair, the image of her straddling him burning in her mind. Just thinking about Ridge sent a rush of moisture to her pussy and made her look longingly at the phone. Could she go back to the homebody she once was? Annie sank down into a chair, the very same chair where she and Ridge had sex, and rested her head in her hands. What would happen if she no longer needed her job at the bar? She squeezed her eyes closed, not wanting to contemplate a night where she wouldn't see Ridge. Swallowing hard, she rose to her feet. 31
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“What have I become?” she whispered into the silent kitchen. The ticking of the clock answered her. “Ridge is the best thing that's happened to me, and our entire relationship is built on a lie.” She choked on a sob and wondered how she could totally erase the image of down-to-earth accountant Annie from existence. Looking around the kitchen, she knew she needed to start right at home. No more doilies, hand crocheted afghans. Time for a makeover of the party kind. Finalizing a plan in her mind, she went from room to room making notes. A few changes here, some rearranging there, and all traces of her boring existence would be gone. She smiled. Good-bye boring good girl, hello sultry vixen.
*** The clank of weights lulled Ridge into a meditative state. Lifting the bar above his head, he counted his repetitions. Sweat dripped over his chest, soaking into the muscle tank top he wore and down his back. The waistband of his shorts was soaked, and he pressed even harder. Anything to get Annie out of his mind just for a moment. After making love to her, suddenly she invaded his thoughts, his dreams. Except she was the wrong kind of woman. Sure, underneath her party girl exterior he sensed the down to earth woman he wanted. Someone who could make his sterile condominium a home and not merely a place to sleep between times at work. He sensed Annie didn't want that. He’d been wrong to try to change her. He’d seen it happen. Not to him, but to others, when one partner tried to change things. No, he decided, he had to come to grips with the fact that he wanted a homebody and Annie preferred to party. She lived life to the fullest, showing off that marvelous body of hers and taking every opportunity that came her way. And damn it, he only fed it. Taking her back to his house, making love to her all night, only made him want her more. Someone he shouldn't have, that's what she was, and he didn't like it. He dropped the weights with a bit more force than necessary and the sound clanged in the small gym. He rose, ignoring the stares in his direction, and strode to the walking track circling the second level. Maybe a few miles of running would calm his racing thoughts. Running his fingers through his sweaty hair, he bounded up the stairs, and started running. Two miles later, Ridge questioned his sanity. Maybe he wanted the wrong kind of woman. He wanted Annie, and unless he was sorely mistaken she wanted him. They had great chemistry. He couldn't fault that, not the three times they'd come together last 32
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night. Wild and inhibited, she was everything he wanted in a woman. So why wasn't he happy? Ridge slowed to a walk. He toweled off his face and neck, not sure he wanted to know the answer to that question. For long moments, he focused on putting one foot in front of the other. Cooling down his breathing brought his thoughts back to the present. Maybe he looked from the wrong things? Maybe he'd been so burned by party girls out for the latest thrill that he went too far? With a shrug, he exited the track and headed down to the locker rooms. Fifteen minutes later he was showered, changed, and driving back to his condo. He returned in silence, thinking of last night when he'd brought Annie here. Trying to see his place through her eyes, he wondered if it'd ever look like the home her bungalow appeared to be. He opened the door and stepped inside to the blinking light on the answering machine. He pressed the play button, tossing his keys onto the table, and his gym bag into the laundry room. His mother's voice reminded him about the family dinner tomorrow night. She knew several nice girls he should meet. Maybe she'd invite one over. Ridge dove for the phone. He picked it up, calling his mother back. Knowing her taste in women, he'd be better off with Annie. And why not bring her? She'd have to pass the family muster sometime, and with his reputation among the relatives, she'd do nothing but raise his status. A nice girl, as his mother said, but on his terms. He quickly confirmed the dinner and told his mother he'd be bringing a guest. He trusted her discretion not to invite every single woman at the country club. Now…to convince Annie. It was a work night, but he knew he'd have no problem arranging a replacement. Still, she probably needed the money. He picked up the phone, and called. And got her answering machine. Leaving a quick message, he offered to work around her schedule and have her to work in time or whatever she wanted. Then, he sat down on the couch and contemplated how neatly his life was coming together. Yes, maybe he was looking at the wrong kind of woman after all.
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Chapter Five
The instant Annie met his mother, her nervousness faded away. She’d surprised herself by accepting the invitation, deciding if she wanted to know more about Ridge, she had to learn about his family. The Warrick family screamed old money, far more money than Annie could even contemplate. Still, they were warm and friendly as they welcomed her into the house, the maid taking her coat. She wore a pair of black linen slacks and a silver blouse, tiny hoop earrings and a pearl necklace around her neck. Her heels were tasteful, and she looked like one of them. Annie didn't know if that was a good thing or not. Ridge looked scrumptious in his charcoal sweater and slacks. He greeted his mother warmly, kissing the side of her cheek. Teased his obviously pregnant sister and shook hands with her husband. His father earned a handshake and a polite nod, obviously not one for emotions. The women circled Annie, taking her into the parlor to discuss babies and clothing, leaving Ridge alone with his brother-in-law and father. Annie thought he looked resigned. She missed him, but loved the chatter of his sister. She preened upon learning she was the first woman he'd brought home, and tried to dismiss claims that things must be serious between them. She didn't want serious. She wanted fun and flirty, though when his sister gave her a conspiratorial wink, she wondered what it would be like to be a part of the family. Dinner was served, and Annie found herself sitting across the table from Ridge. With the men on one side and the women on the other, the formal four-course dinner looked far too elegant for just family. A few remarks, and his father's cutting glare, and Annie realized she dated the black sheep of the family. His father wondered when he'd settle down with a real career instead of running a bar. His mother lamented his dropping out of law school, and his sister congratulated him on finding a “real” woman for a change. With each word, Annie's apprehension 34
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grew. Ridge didn't need her. Her job hadn't been mentioned aside from a comment about her working for Ridge. An accountant laid off from her last job, and unable to find work in her field. Annie resisted the urge to shake her head. No, it wouldn't do to help Ridge's position at all. She frowned for a moment, then smoothed it away when she caught Ridge looking at her. His reassuring smile and nod only churned the butterflies in her stomach. I should go. Make excuses and get out of here. Except that wouldn't help Ridge look any better in front of his family either. She ached for him, though he seemed to stoically handle the comments and looks. Wishing there was something she could do, she finished eating her dinner, and folded her napkin next to her plate. The conversation ebbed and flowed away from Ridge and his job choices to talk of the market and of his sister's job as an investment banker. They talked about quitting after the birth of her child and staying at home to raise the next generation of Warrick’s. Annie listened, though she envied the woman's position. She doubted, even if she found someone, she'd be able to stay at home with her children, and the conversation served as more evidence of the gulf between her and Ridge. Some chasms weren’t meant to be crossed, she guessed, and wished her heart understood.
*** As dinner moved into after-dinner coffee, Ridge couldn't help but feeling pleased with the way things worked out. Brining Annie to the dinner quieted his mother's talk about those “girls” he used to bring over, and no one seemed to question him beyond telling them that she worked for him. Obviously they assumed in an administrative capacity, and Ridge didn't correct the misunderstanding. With his family, he needed all the advantage he could get. Sitting in the family room listening to his father pontificate on various positions in the stock market, Ridge let his mind wander. He draped his arm around Annie's shoulders. She didn't snuggle against him, but in the presence of his family, he doubted that would probably be the best thing. Instead, she sat demurely, hands clasped in her lap. All in all, his family seemed to accept her. Immediately, he caught her sharing glances and joking about some of his exploits that his sister liked to trot out at family gatherings. His mother seemed pleased, commenting him at one point on his choice, and 35
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he thought he'd detected a look of approval in his father's eyes. With the old man it was hard to tell. Maybe he had been wrong. Maybe he had been looking at the wrong kind of woman. Being here with Annie felt natural, comfortable, and he wondered how soon he could bring her back to one of his mother's arranged meals. As he caressed the back of her neck, he knew hiring Annie had been the best thing he'd ever done. He couldn't imagine his life without her, and for the first time, the thought didn't scare him.
*** Annie hated running late. From the traffic moving slower than it ought to, all the way to when she twisted her ankle trying to race inside the back door, Annie detested being late. Normally she arrived at least twenty minutes early for work, preferring to compose herself before the customers arrived. Now, she'd race behind the bar, give it a quick wipe and then the doors opened. Already two or three customers loitered outside. She cursed under her breath as she barreled through the door into the employee lounge. Lockers sat along one side, while tables and chairs occupied the other side of the room. She collided with a large object. Her purse fell from her grasp. It hit the ground with a clatter, cards and pens scattering over the floor. On her high heels, she wobbled and feared she might fall. Strong hands grabbed her upper arms. “I'm sorry,” Ridge said. “You all right? He searched her face for some sign of injury. “Fine, sorry. I was just in a hurry. Had a water leak at home.” She steadied herself, appreciating his concern. She glanced down at her purse. Her cards slid from her billfold, including her membership into the Association of Accountants, and a small alumni association card for the local four-year college. She prayed Ridge hadn't seen it. She didn't disclose all her credentials on her application, wanting to seem worldlier than she was. “You sure you're all right? You look awfully pale.” Ridge stepped back. “Fine, thanks.” She knelt, concerned about scooping the contents of her purse out of sight. Ridge knelt beside her. “Let me help,” he offered. So it wasn't exactly altruistic motives that had him kneeling beside Annie. Ridge couldn't pass up the chance to learn more about her. His eye caught the logo of the fouryear college. An alumni card. He had a matching one in his wallet, though Annie's 36
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resume indicated only a small technical college. He frowned, not liking what he was seeing. A card for an accountant organization, a couple of credit cards, a business card for a local temp agency. None of it really matched up with what he knew about Annie Gadbaum. His hand closed around the alumni card. “You didn't tell me you went to college. When did you graduate?” “Four years ago,” she said automatically, then pressed her lips together. She'd lied. The one woman he thought he could trust, the one woman he was falling for had lied to him. Ridge rose to his feet as she hastily scooped the last of her purse's contents back into the voluminous leather bag she carried. “You didn't put that on your employment application,” he said, careful to keep his voice neutral. “Why don't you sit down, Annie?” Inside, he died. One glance at the horrified, he-found-me-out, look on her face, and he knew. I was falling for you, Annie. I thought I might even be in love with you. Why did you lie to me? Talking to her probably wouldn't do any good. After all, if she lied on an employment application, who knew what else, she lied about. Maybe the dinner with his parents was all a lie, too, and then he could return home to be chastised about his poor choice in women. She'd strung him along. Well, he intended to cut that string as soon as possible. Annie sat in a swivel chair by the round table. Her hands shook as she clasped them before her on the table, and he tried not to be moved. As her employer, he deserved the truth. If she couldn't provide it, then they had nothing to talk about. “I can explain,” she said. Her voice wavered. Probably the three most dreaded words in the English language. Right now, Ridge wasn't sure he wanted her to explain. Taking the seat across from her he rubbed the edge of her alumni card with his fingers. He didn't want to relinquish it, not until he heard her out. Though he doubted anything she could say would erase the black mark of her deceit. “Explain,” he ordered, afraid if he said anything more they'd be words he couldn't take back. “I want the truth,” he added, unable to stop himself. “I could fire you right now for lying on your employment application.” He hated himself for not even calling her references. No, when she applied something hit him on a visceral level and he knew he had to have her in his bar. A silly mistake and one he wouldn't make again. 37
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“My degree is in accounting,” she said, glancing at that damning alumni card. “I didn't think it'd make a difference one way or another. In fact, I figured you'd see it, determine I was too qualified, and not hire me.” She worried her fingers around the strap of her purse. “But you didn't give me a chance to make that decision,” he countered. And that's what stung the most. He thought he trusted her, hoped they could build a life together. One small lie, and now he didn't know what was truth or not. This is why I wanted a down-to-earth girl, someone who wouldn't be caught dead wearing such short skirts and working in a bar like this. Someone with whom I could settle down. His gut clenched as he watched his dream fizzle before him. “And that's a problem. What else are you hiding? I don't know, and even if you told me, I don't know if I could believe you or not. Let's take this conversation into my office.” He rose to his feet, and noticed she followed. “Let's go.” His long strides carried him out of the lounge onto the main floor. He glanced at the large silver and black clock above the bar. Damn it, they were late in opening. “Donnie,” he yelled. “You've got the bar for a moment. Open up those doors.” He directed the other two wait staff in covering Donnie's section, then closed the door to his office as Annie sat down, holding her purse in front of her like a shield. “Now, where were we?”
*** A lump formed in Annie's throat. Listening to Ridge bark orders and watching him sit behind his desk and open a drawer, she knew she'd be fired on the spot. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. Her mental mantra did nothing to ease the anger in Ridge's face. If our relationship couldn't weather one lie, then it wasn't much of a relationship was it? Her lower lip quivered. She bit it, refusing to cry in front of him. Later, she'd collapse in her empty house, but right now she would not cry. Ridge pulled an employment file out and opened it on his desk. “I want to go through this line by line. You tell me what's truth and what you lied about. Then, I'll determine what I want to do. Okay?” She nodded, thankful he'd given her this chance. Maybe if he learned why she did it, and after knowing her now, he'd forgive her. “Everything is true except for a bit about the education and some past jobs. I did graduate from the local bartender's school, and I do have a license to serve alcohol in the city, so you can rest assured none of my 38
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omissions hurt your business or were illegal.” Now that she spoke the truth, she felt as if a great weight lifted from her. She loved Ridge so much. “I'd never do anything to hurt you or the bar. You have to believe this.” “You don't know what I do or don't have to believe,” he said. He skimmed her file. “So you're apparently more educated than you put down. You did work for the temp agency, though I called them.” “Yes, I was on assignment with a local business as an accountant. I'm sure they told you that. I was laid off. Temp assignment ended, and they didn't have any other work for me, and I was tired of being all buttoned down and corporate.” She ran her fingers through her hair as she gathered the courage to tell him. “I wanted a change. I loved bartending in college, but thought I'd had to do something respectable, so that's why I went into accounting. I have a knack for numbers.” “I've seen it at the bar.” The small admission buoyed her spirits. “I saw the lay off as a chance to make a fresh start. That's why I applied here. That's why I accepted the job you offered me.” She leaned back, uncertain whether she should say more. “A fresh start by lying on your application.” Ridge frowned, and Annie wondered if something more than her omission bothered him. His dream, the perfect woman for him, Ridge had held her in his arms, made love to her, fallen in love with her, and it was all a lie. That's what hurt the most. The fact that he'd wanted a woman exactly like her, had her, and now found out that she'd lied to him. She was right. Her omissions didn't put his bar in any danger. She was more than competent, she was amazing behind the bar, and if she weren't there something would be missing. He should have trusted his instincts. He'd known she was more than she seemed, yet didn't question how he knew. “Were you lying to my family? Hell, when we were in bed together were you faking your orgasms?” He rubbed his eyes and looked at the woman sitting across from him, unable to contain his rising anger. “How will I ever know what is real and what isn't, Annie? How will I know?” “Trust me, Ridge. I'm not lying to you.” His words tore Annie up, made her realize the true depth of her error. “You're right. I was foolish and stupid to make a fresh start by lying to you, but I swear, the only lies I told were on that application. Everything else was real.” His accusations, while founded, tore her heart to shreds. How could he 39
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believe she was lying to him now? That she'd lie to him about anything? Because she had. “I don't have to trust you. By lying on this piece of paper, you destroyed any chance you had of me trusting you.” He waved the application at her, as if the stench of her betrayal rolled off of it like a foul odor. “Go home, Annie. You're on unpaid leave until I decide what I want to do about this situation. I need to think. Go home.” She sat there, dumbfounded by his words. He wasn't firing her. He was mad as hell, and justifiably so, but he wasn't firing her. Not yet. She exhaled a breath she hadn't realized she held and rose shakily on her feet. Her eyes shone with unshed tears, and strength of will held them in. “Thank you, Ridge. I'll wait to hear from you.” Swallowing hard, she turned on her heel and left. She walked through the bar, noticing several patrons already sat at tables. Donnie worked the bar, and he tried to catch her attention as she strode through. She shook her head, not wanting to talk to him right now. Slipping through the back doors to the lounge, she paused long enough to clean out her locker. Tears blurred her vision, but she didn't stop. She hurried to her car, tossed everything in the backseat and pulled out of the parking lot. By the time the bar showed in her rearview mirror, tears ran freely down her face, and by the time she turned the corner, she audibly sobbed. He's going to fire me. I've screwed up big time, and now I've lost my job. It didn't hurt nearly as much as the look on Ridge's face when he ordered her to leave. She hoped he loved her as much as she loved him, because if he didn't, he was lost to her forever. She managed to turn the key in her lock and slam the door behind her. Slumping onto the couch, she grabbed a tissue and cried.
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Chapter Six
Comparing the cube farm in which she currently sat to the bar was like comparing oatmeal to a four-course gourmet meal. Yeah, it was a job, but as Annie stared at the computer screen in front of her, she found she missed the music and conversation of the bar. She missed serving drinks. She missed the tips, and she missed Ridge. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, trying to shove the ache of loneliness away. She made her decisions; she had to live with them. She finished keying in then stretched and carried her coffee mug to the break room. More corporate drones, dressed in suits and ties, crowded into the break room for the muddy water they called coffee. She filled her mug, added a generous amount of cream and sugar, and then carried it back to her desk. She sat down, resisting the urge to pick up the phone and see how Ridge was doing. Four days, and she hadn't heard from him. Four days in which she thought only of how wrong she'd been and the many ways in which she'd apologize. Luckily, the temp agency had come through with this shortterm assignment. Only a week, but still, it helped pay the bills. Sitting at the desk, looking around at the four other temporary workers on this assignment, Annie tried to imagine herself in an environment like this and failed. Too many suits, not enough freedom. Regulated breaks, lunches, and not even able to have a conversation with a coworker without work intruding. She never realized how good she had it at the bar. She exhaled. At one time she thought she wanted to do this for a living. Now, she detested every minute she spent in this building. Her coworkers seemed not to mind. Two of them carried on an animated conversation over typing, while the third engrossed herself in a book every chance she had. Her skin itched. Not literally, but figuratively, as if she didn't fit in it anymore. All her old hopes and dreams seemed boring, silly even, before she started working at the bar. Turning her attention back to the endless numbers on her computer, she tried to get 41
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some work done. Annie's fingers stilled on the keyboard. She'd screwed up, and done so big time. Grabbing her purse, she powered off her computer. She had amends to make, and she couldn't make them being a corporate drone. Stopping by her supervisor's office, she said she had to leave, and although her manager gave her a strange look, she was allowed to leave. Annie hurried to the car as fast as she could in her pencil-slim skirt and heels. A sense of urgency pressed her as she unlocked her car and slid into the driver's seat. She couldn't let Ridge get away with closing the door on them. One mistake, and a minor one, shouldn't affect their relationship. At least she hoped it wouldn't affect their relationship. And if it did, she'd never forgive herself.
*** Leaning against the wall, Ridge stood in the corner of his bar. The usual crowd filtered in, the din of music and conversation creating a comfortable backdrop. He watched the wait staff moving between tables, bringing drinks, and thought everything moved like a well-oiled machine. Still, when he looked behind the bar and saw Donnie working there, he frowned. Although he was competent at the bar, Donnie did only what was required. No chitchat with the customers, no idle banter to get them to stay and drink just one more. Instead, he served, talked, and generally acted like a robot behind the bar. Ridge frowned. He thought about his date last night, a setup from a friend. She worked, as a lawyer uptown, wanted a home, a family, even a white picket fence, exactly the kind of woman he could bring home to his family. He should be happy. She asked him out again, though he hadn't committed. She wasn't Annie. Ridge ran his fingers through his hair, then turned and strode back into the office. With the door closed, he sat behind his desk, propping his feet up on the polished wood surface. Automatically, he reached for the phone. He stopped, hand hovering in mid-air. What was he doing? Annie made her choices. She’d lied, and that was that. He glanced at the employment file sitting on his desk. Several resumes for replacement bartenders, all of them qualified, some more than qualified. So why wasn't he picking up the phone and hiring them on the spot? None of them were Annie. He picked up her employment file and went over it one more time. Already he'd 42
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highlighted things he knew, or suspected weren't true. The truth of the matter was, except for hiding her accounting background, and frankly, he didn't blame her. When he thought of accountants he didn't think of someone as sexy and sophisticated as her. Just thinking about her long, silky smooth legs beneath the short skirts or the swell of her breasts beneath a halter-top had his cock hardening. He rubbed himself through the fabric, knowing only Annie could soothe the ache. He picked up the phone. Almost savagely he punched in the phone number for the employment agency and arranged to have the top candidate on his list start tonight. He needed Donnie back on the floor, and after the way he left things with Annie, he doubted she'd come back. He had to hedge his bets, even if he wanted her to accept her old job. After receiving assurances the new hire would be there in an hour, Ridge hung up the phone. He stared at it. Every cell in his body screamed for him to call her. Just a simple phone call, then he'd know. He picked up the phone and dialed. After ten rings, he hung up, and knew, Annie wasn’t coming back, and wishing wouldn't make it so. He sighed, and straightened up his desk. In less than an hour, now, his new hire would arrive, and he'd have a new bartender. She might fix the mess behind the bar, but she couldn't fix his heart.
*** The missed phone call still bothered Annie, but she figured it was just a telemarketer. After all, whoever it was hadn't left a message, so the call must not have been important. She changed from her business clothes, hoping never to see them again. Donning a pair of hipster jeans, clunky boots, and a jeweled belt around her waist, with a tie-dye halter-top, she brushed out her hair, and dropped her driver's license and her debit card into a hip pocket. Before she could lose her nerve, she went back to her car and drove across town to the bar. I have to see him one more time, just once more to try and explain my point of view. If he doesn't believe me, then he doesn't, but I have to try. Annie gritted her teeth and hoped she wouldn't leave disappointed. Surely she filled his waking thoughts the way he did hers. Just thinking about his touch, so gentle against her skin, hardened her nipples. A demanding heat filled her pussy, and she pressed her thighs together in the car, knowing she wouldn't find fulfillment. Not yet, anyway. 43
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She parked her car in the customer parking for a change, and stepped out. The noise from the crowd inside filtered through the door as it opened and closed with the flow of patrons. Just listening to it sent a pang of homesickness through her. She missed being a part of the energy, missed feeling as if she directed the chaos inside. She entered the bar, earning a smile and a nod from Donnie as he hurried past. Slipping into a chair along the back wall, she looked toward the bar. Her heart twisted and broke. Ridge stood there, a tall, willowy blonde next to him, directing the flow of things. She remembered those days, remembered hearing his voice, his firm direction. The blonde leaned over, showing off a generous amount of cleavage, and Ridge laughed at something she said. Annie moved to stand. A man looking as if he stepped off the cover of GQ sat down next to her. “I haven’t seen you around here,” he said. “I'm David.” “Hi, David. Annie.” She eased back into her seat. “Can I get you a drink?” He waved Donnie over. “That'd be great, thanks. A cosmopolitan,” she said to Donnie, and he took down the order, not giving away that he knew her. She appreciated his discretion, and chatted with the man. One drink later, she made excuses about needing to get up early and having things to do. She accepted his card. One, last look toward the bar where Ridge helped the blonde, and she wondered what she'd been thinking coming here. She'd been a fool, a monumental fool. Looking at David's card, she slipped it into her pocket and hurried out to her car. Tears stung her eyes, and she dashed them away. Stupid to be crying over him. Horribly, horribly stupid. She opened her car door, and wondered how she'd drive past here without thinking of Ridge. She sighed. She'd been the wrong woman for him in every way. Perhaps it was for the best.
*** From the moment she entered the bar, Annie caught his attention. He struggled to help Vivian complete her order, and then told her to take a break. Not once did she look in his direction. She ordered a drink, and promptly started chatting with the man who sat down beside her. Had she made plans to meet him? At his bar? It seemed tacky, though if she wanted to get back at him watching her chat it up would be the way to do it. She 44
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accepted his card, so no, she didn't know him before she arrived, and then rose to her feet. Vivian had returned, and began taking orders. He helped her complete her order, and when he looked up again he saw Annie rising to her feet. He watched, half expecting her to come over and try to talk to him. Instead, she started for the door. Perhaps it was for the best. He didn't need someone who lied in his life, though when he got past that, he needed Annie. Her warmth, her caring, the easy way she seemed to fit in with his family. Sighing, he watched her chat a moment with Donnie before heading to the door. Donnie turned in his direction. He mouthed something, though Ridge couldn't make out the words. Vivian bumped into him. His arm brushed against her generous cleavage, and he didn't feel even the slightest tingle. She wasn't Annie. “If you want to talk to that girl before she leaves, go ahead. I think I'll be all right here for a few moments.” Vivian smiled. “What?” Ridge turned his attention back to his trainee. Thoughts of Annie kept him from concentrating on his work. “That girl. You seemed focused on her since she came into the bar. She's leaving. If you want to talk to her, you might want to go after her.” Vivian took the order for a beer and turned toward the tap. “You'll be all right?” Ridge watched Annie walk out the door, struck by the feeling that if he stood there a moment longer he'd be making the biggest mistake of his life. “Go!” Vivian delivered the beer and made change. Ridge bolted from behind the bar. He threaded his way through the patrons, growling when the door closed, and Annie disappeared from view. Donnie gave him a thumbs-up as he passed, and Ridge realized what the young man had been trying to tell him. Go after her! The command burned in his blood. He hurried past the doorman, his heart pounding in his chest. There, by her car, he watched her pause and put the keys in the lock. Tears ran down her cheeks. Damn it, he'd caused them. He made her cry. He raced across the parking lot, darting between cars. “Annie,” he yelled. She didn't even look up as she slid into her car and rested her head against the steering wheel. Sobs shook her shoulders, each visible movement tearing him in two. 45
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How could he have been so stupid as to let this happen? No. He refused to admit he would let her out of his grasp. Racing forward, he poured on the speed as he hurried to her car. She put it in gear. He knocked on the window. She turned toward him. Her eyes widened, lips parting in surprise. The tears marring her face twisted the dagger in his heart. “Annie, wait.” He pressed his palm against the glass, wishing it weren't between them, and he could wipe the salty droplets from her face. Her mascara started to run. “Annie, please.” He pleaded with her, not caring who heard. “Don't go!” She put the car in park, but didn't turn off the engine. A small victory, but a victory nonetheless. “We need to talk.” Annie blew her nose, then rolled down the window. “I thought you said everything in your office. I lied. You fired me. End of story, right?” She started to roll up the window. “Is that what you believe?” He folded his fingers over the glass, not caring if she finished closing the window and crushed his fingers. The pain would pale in comparison to the anguish ripping through his soul. “We need to talk. The bar isn't the same.” “Is that what this is about? The bar? It looked fine to me. Busy, even. So, forgive me if I'm not sorry that the bar isn't the same without me, because it looked the same to me.” She stared at his fingers, not meeting his eyes. “Please, just let me go. It's easier this way.” “Easier for whom?” Leaning against the car, he reached in and turned off the engine. Then, he brushed his thumb across her cheeks and wiped the tears away. “It's not easier for me. I sit in my office, and I expect to see you behind the bar. You're not there. I go home and stretch out on my bed, and it's a lonely place without you in it. Please, come inside. Come into my office. We need to talk.” He held his breath, afraid of her next words. If she denied him, if she refused and drove out of the parking lot, he feared what he'd do. If she left she'd take a part of him with her. Annie leaned back against the headrest and expelled a breath. She dashed away the tears. “I couldn't stand it if you shoved me away again,” she admitted. Swallowing hard, she turned to face him. “You won't do that, will you, Ridge?” He pressed his fingers against her lips. “Sweet, Annie, I've been a fool.” He removed his finger and hurried around the car, afraid if he brought her into his office 46
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she'd change her mind and leave. He opened the passenger door and sat. “Does this look like I want you to leave? If I said the word, would you take me home and make love to me? Accountant or bartender, your job doesn't matter to me. I care for you Annie, more than I ever thought I would for another person. I think I might even love you.” He closed his hand over hers on the steering wheel. “Don't leave. You can have your job back. You can do something else. Just don't walk out of my life ever again.” There, he'd said it, laid his heart on the line. He waited for her response.
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Chapter Seven
Annie smiled. She wanted to jump, shout, scream her joy to the world, but instead, she grinned and hoped she wouldn't cry happy tears. Tucking her car key in her pocket, she opened the door and stood. She leaned against it, giving him a generous view of her breasts. “You said something about your office?” Her body tingled, her pussy wet and heavy with need. He loved her. Ridge's gaze fastened on the twin, pale globes of her breast. “I did,” he replied, opening the passenger door and standing. “Does it have a lock?” Before Ridge could answer, she turned and gave an extra hip wiggle as she strolled toward the office. “Yeah.” His long strides carried him even with her. “What did you have in mind?” “You'll see.” Annie winked at him, then at the doorman as she sashayed through, and headed straight to his office. Dominic gave her a thumbs-up, and she grinned him. She noticed the woman behind the bar giving her a stare, probably jealous, Annie surmised, then really didn't care. After all, Ridge loved her, and she loved him. What more did they need? He'd offered her job back, and at this moment, she couldn't have said whether she would accept it or not. She stepped into his office, flashing back to their first kiss right in this room. She waited for Ridge to enter, watched as he closed and locked the door and then sat behind his desk. Reaching behind her neck, she untied the halter-top and let the tails fall. The fabric hung on her nipples, diamond-hard, concealing the tiny nubs. She strode forward, liking the way his throat worked as he watched her. A glance at his trousers showed his hard cock, and she couldn't wait to take it into her mouth. She leaned on the edge of his desk. “If I am going to come back and work for you, there has to be some ground rules.” 48
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She toyed with the jeweled edge of her belt, slowly unfastening the clasp. The tiny chink of metal sounded loud in the room, mingling with the rasp of Ridge's breathing. “Rules, uh huh.” He reached for her. Annie pulled off her belt. “Not yet. You can't touch me until I'm done.” A heady sense of power filled her. He might have bared his heart and soul, but she was in control. She dragged the end of a tie over the swell of one breast. Her pussy ached. She wanted nothing more than to straddle him in the chair and have him kiss and lick her everywhere. But not before she exercised a bit of that power. Reaching behind her, she cleared his desk of everything but the blotter, then hopped up and sat on top. She leaned forward just far enough for the material of her top to slide forward a bit farther. The tops of her aureole were visible, and Ridge licked his lips. “What kind of rules, Annie?” he asked. “You're killing me. God, I'm so hard I could pound nails.” “First rule, only you and I are allowed behind that bar. I don't know who the blonde is but I want her gone.” Annie grinned at the hopeful look in his eyes. She pressed her finger against his lips, keeping him from speaking. “Second rule, we don't ever mention my accounting past again. I am not a corporate drone. Suits do not become me.” Ridge nodded ever so slightly against her fingers. “And the last rule.” She dropped her blouse, baring her breasts. “You suck my nipples right now.” Ridge wheeled his chair forward, pinning her between him and the desk. He slid the belt from his wrists and reached up to cup her breasts. Flicking his thumb across first one nipple than the other, he stared for long moments at the twin globes he held in his hands. He licked his lips, then leaned forward and pulled a nipple into his mouth. Annie arched her back. A cry of pleasure bounded from her mouth, the gentle suction of his lips against her breast drawing straight to her pussy. She threaded her fingers through his silky dark hair and held him against her. Yes, oh yes. She'd longed for this moment for so long, and now, finally, she had Ridge in her arms, his lips on her flesh. He nipped gently, and Annie bit her lip to keep from crying out again. She didn't know if Ridge's office was soundproofed, and although the bar held ambient noise, she feared being heard. The thrill of discovery heightened her pleasure, the rasp of Ridge's stubbled cheeks against her tender skin. He turned his attention to her other breast, 49
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nuzzling and licking, until she squirmed against the desk, her pussy wet with moisture. Ridge pulled away. A tiny mewl of loss emerged from her throat. He wrapped his hands around her waist. “I want you naked, now,” he ordered. Annie pouted at him, leaning forward so the distended tips of her nipples could brush against his chest. “I thought I was the one giving orders.” She nibbled along his lower lip before sliding off the desk. Her words didn't stop her from shimmying out of her jeans and panties, then standing there, naked, by his desk. “Bend over and grabbed the desk.” Ridge unbuckled his pants, then pulled open a desk drawer and pulled out a condom. “I can't wait.” His husky growl filled her ears. As she leaned over his desk and rose onto her tiptoes to point her ass into the air, Annie felt truly wanton. She stared out the one-way mirror into the crowd, watching them drink and socialize, completely unaware that someone was getting fucked on the other side of that wall. Her pussy dripped moisture down her thigh, and she wiggled in anticipation. Ridge's heat pressed against her back. His cock slid against her slick labia, and he moved back and forth, stroking her. Annie whimpered and curled her fingers into the edge of the desk until her knuckles turned white. The need to beg, plead for him to fill her nearly made her open her mouth and give voice to thoughts. She didn't. Instead, focusing on Donnie as he waited tables. “They don't know we're in here,” she said, finally. “I'm such a bad, bad girl.” “You are,” Ridge growled. He lightly slapped her buttocks. The sting made her dance on her toes and press against his erection. “Punish me again,” she said. The husky whisper of her voice barely belonged to her. Annie felt as if another woman possessed her, a delicious, wanton woman. She rubbed her breasts against his desk, seeking what stimulation she could. A thick finger probed her entrance. Ridge's thumb brushed against her clit, rolling it back and forth in its hood. “Do you want to be fucked?” “Yes,” Annie breathed. “Fuck me hard.” His finger thrust and withdrew, a process so slow she waited for the slide of his skin against her swollen walls. He brushed her g-spot, and she nearly came. Instead, she bit her lip so hard she tasted blood, against the whimpers rising in her throat. 50
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“Do you want to scream?” He added a finger against her clit to his maddening stroking. “Yes,” she said. “God, Ridge, fuck me now.” “Not yet.” His fingers stilled. “You can't come.” His fingers thrust once, twice. Just denying her the pleasure ratcheted up the tension in her body. Her vaginal walls clenched around his digits, seeking a release, but he denied her. He worked her slowly, thrusting fingers into her pussy until he filled her with at least three digits. His thumb worked against her clit, rolling and playing, until she feared she'd fall over the precipice into orgasm. Then, Ridge licked her spine. His lips found the sensitive place at the base of her tailbone, and bit gently. Annie lost control. Swirls of color bust behind her eyelids. She shuddered against the desk, her pussy clenching and releasing as pleasure roared through her veins. Her harsh pants filled the air. Ridge buried his cock inside her. Balls slapped against her, and his low moan filled her ears. “Yeah, baby.” He held her, fingers clamped around her waist a nearbruising hold. “You just came in front of all those people. And I want you to do it again. Watch them. They don't even know I'm doing this.” He pulled out, inch by inch, until just his head rested inside her. Then, he slammed forward so hard she bounced against the desk. Her body met his as he thrust, her eyes focused on the crowd beyond the window. Just imagining they could see her, made her horny as hell, and Ridge's pounding pace drove her higher into another orgasm. He filled her, expanded her. Fingers slipped between her legs to toy with her clitoris, and suddenly, she came again, burying her face in his desk to muffle her escalating moans of pleasure. This was the Ridge she loved. The master of his domain, ruler of the bar, and the only man able to make her come over and over again. His pace quickened. Annie held on for the ride, certain he'd come at any moment. And then, he did, stiffening inside her, his cock jerking as he pressed his lips to the back of her neck and growled against her skin. The motion shoved her forward, mashing his fingers against her clit, and she came again, shuddering to completion beneath him. A fine sheen of sweat coated their skin. Mingled pants and the smell of sex filled the air. Annie laid there, the weight of Ridge on her, and stared at the crowd. They never 51
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knew. The ebb and flow in the bar didn't change, and no one stared toward the one-way window out of idle curiosity. Inside her, his cock stirred. Ridge released her and braced his hands on the edge of the desk. Still buried balls-deep inside her, he pressed tiny kisses and licks along her spine. “I can't get enough of you, Annie.” She pressed her eyes closed, the need to spill her heart sending tears of joy stinging her eyes. “Nor I you.” She exhaled. Got to tell him now. It's now or never. “I love you, Ridge Warrick. I think I did from the moment I laid eyes on you in the interview. I don't want to leave this bar. I love it here. I love working for you. But most of all, I love you.” She kept her gaze focused on the crowd, half-afraid of what she might see in his eyes. “Thank God,” he whispered. “And here I thought you were the wrong woman.” Annie grinned. “Nope. I'm the right woman for the job.” She glanced over her shoulder. Love shone in Ridge's expression. His fingers trailed over her spine, his cock fully erect inside her. “And I'm the right woman for you.” She pivoted until she faced him and wrapped her arms around him. “Make love to me, Ridge. Make love to me, and don't ever let go.” He nuzzled the top of her head. “With pleasure.” And in his arms, Annie knew she'd be happy to let him for the rest of her life.
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About the Author
Mary commutes between her dream home near the Mark Twain national forest in Missouri, and her current residence in Iowa. She lives with a menagerie of animals including an opinionated horse and a cat who was a dog in past life. When not writing spicy tales of erotic romance, she enjoys writing science fiction and fantasy, spending time with her horse, and enjoying the outdoors. Lucky for her, her partner (hero) shares these same passions, and usually both of them can be found in their respective dens writing.
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