One Hot December (Men at Work 3)

“Oh yeah, Killer. Why did I date that guy again?”

“You tell me,” Ian said.

“Before I was trying to stop thinking about you. Didn’t work,” she said. “My crush on you wasn’t budging.”

“I thought it was me who had the crush on you,” Ian said. “I assumed you slept with me out of curiosity or boredom or, you know, he’s here and I’m here so why the hell not?”

“That night was not a ‘why the hell not’ situation. It was a ‘I have to have this man or I will die because my pussy will murder me’ situation.”

“Did you know I had feelings for you?”

“I knew you were attracted to me. But that’s a little different.”

“How did you know?” he asked. “I tried not to be obvious about it.”

“You have a tell.” She tapped the side of her nose, pointed and winked at him.

“A tell? Like a poker tell?”

She nodded.

“What’s my tell?”

“When you’re working and somebody says something to you, you answer them while you’re still working. Unless it’s me. You always stopped what you were doing if I said something to you, no matter how minor,” she said as she traced circles around the head of his cock with her fingertip. “Steve or Jack or Davis could ask you something while you were reading a contract or blueprints or something, and you’d answer them without looking up. With me you put whatever you were reading down on your desk. Then you looked up.”

“I liked looking at you.”

“I got that feeling. I liked looking at you, too. You’re pretty sexy for a suit,” she said.

“You like my suits. Admit it.”

“I love your suits. They make you look...powerful, important, in charge. I like a man who wears authority well.”

“You like me.”

She nodded again, smiling.

Ian grinned that grin again, that “I love my fucking life” grin, which he wore so well. The world had been very kind to him and his one redeeming virtue was that he knew it and appreciated it.

“Since I’m in charge here,” he said, “I’m going to give you an order.”

“I order you to order me.”

“Tell me why you’re uncomfortable.”

“I’m not. This hot tub is great.”

“You know what I mean.” He looked at her, grin gone. He was Mr. Serious Ian now. She much preferred Mr. Horny and Distracted Ian.

He put his hand on her face, caressed her cheek.

“Tell me,” he said. “You play your cards close to your chest. Let me see some of your cards, okay?”

“It’s dumb,” she said. “I know it’s dumb and you’re just going to tell me it’s dumb.”

“I am not. Tell me.”

“You come from a wealthy, powerful and big-deal family and I don’t.”