Fantasy for Hire

She fluffed her hair that he’d unintentionally mussed during their kiss. She had the silkiest hair, and he loved running his fingers though the warm strands. She didn’t seem to mind his fascination with her hair, either.

“I’m beginning to realize that Louden has the morals of an alley cat,” she said, her tone tempered with disgust. “Which means he’ll continue to prey until a bigger cat comes along and knocks him down a peg or two.”

A flare of possessiveness gripped him, and his hands tightened on the steering wheel. “How about I pay Louden a personal visit and let him know just how close he is to being neutered?”

She laughed, but the sound was strained. “Austin, I can handle Louden. By the end of the next week, one way or another, this will all be over with. I’ll either get the promotion, or I won’t.”

She didn’t sound very positive, and that bothered him. “And if you don’t?”

“Then I update my résumé and start over,” she said in quiet resignation, putting the lighted mirror back in its place. “And I can’t begin to tell you how much I dread doing that. It means proving myself all over again.”

He heard the frustration in her voice, and knew she was referring to more than just establishing herself with another employer, but with her family, too. Strangely enough, he understood her resentment, and respected her determination to overcome it.

Reaching across the console, he gently laid his hand on her knee, offering silent support. “Getting that promotion is really important to you, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it is, for so many reasons,” she admitted, then drew a deep breath as if to dismiss the entire subject. “Turn right here, then make another right on Vallejo. My parents’ house is on the left-hand side.”

He followed Teddy’s directions, impressed with the ritzy area of San Francisco and multimillion-dollar homes overlooking the Bay, even though he’d expected as much. Trying not to allow old insecurities to assail him, he made the final turn onto Vallejo Street, determined to make the best impression on Teddy’s family that he could, and hoped they accepted him for who he was. Nothing more. Nothing less.

“Which house?” he asked, glancing at Teddy. He frowned when he saw her struggling with the ruby and diamond band she wore on her ring finger.

“Stop the car for a minute,” she said, her tone exasperated.

He slowed the Mustang to a halt as close to the side of the narrow road as he could, put the vehicle in park, and turned to face her. “What are you doing?”

She tugged and twisted on the band, her face contorted with frustration. “I’m trying to take off my ring.”

“Why?”

She exhaled loudly and continued her determined attempt to remove the ring, which refused to slip over her first knuckle. “Because my parents gave me this band when I graduated from high school, and they’ve never seen it on my left hand.”

He couldn’t help the grin spreading across his face. “Ah, so the illusion of being ‘taken’ is for everyone else’s benefit, but not your family’s.”

“Yeah, something like that,” she muttered vaguely.

He continued to watch her struggle, amused with her thinking. “Don’t you think you’re making the issue more complicated than it needs to be?”

“No.” Her succinct answer segued into a wince of pain, then a very

unladylike curse when the gold cut into her flesh. “I must be retaining water,” she said hopelessly.

Taking pity on her, he reached for her left hand. “Here, let me help.”

“What?” she asked incredulously as he examined her finger. “You’ve got a pair of clippers in your glove box to cut the ring off my finger?”

He chuckled at her sarcasm. “Nope. Don’t need any.”

She snorted in disbelief. “Well, that ring isn’t going to come off any other way…”

Her sassy comment rolled into a surprised gasp as he lifted her palm and used his tongue to dampen the skin where the ring encircled the digit, then closed his mouth over her finger to moisten the entire length. He suckled gently, swirling his tongue up and down her finger, thoroughly wetting her sensitized skin. Her eyes widened, her hand went limp in his, and an arousing groan slipped past her parted lips.

Once he was confident that her skin was slick enough, he dragged her finger from his mouth and gave the ring a twist and a gentle tug. The band slipped to her knuckle, and tightened around the bone. She let out a discouraged sigh, but he wasn’t about to admit defeat, and slipped her finger into his mouth again, using his teeth and tongue to work the ring over her knuckle.

This time, he succeeded. Removing the band from his mouth, he turned her hand over and dropped the ring onto her palm.

“Thank you,” she said breathlessly.

“Anytime.” He grinned wickedly. “Do you need help putting it on your other finger?”