Not the most flattering picture, but it drove the point home.
"Have you been to a funeral recently?" she asked.
One corner of his mouth curved up. "Is that a hint?"
She furrowed her brow before realization dawned in her blue eyes. "Maybe," she said, "but only if you give me any trouble."
He liked it when she teased him back. He crooked a finger at her to follow him.
"This way."
He took her into a small closet in a room across the hall, one where they both barely fit. He liked the vibe in here, the two of them so very close. She smelled flowery, yet sultry. He wanted to pull her close, breathe in her hair, push it to the side, taste her neck, find out all over again where her most sensitive spots were. He wanted to push back one of those boring suits she was going to go nuts over and take her hard and fast against the wall. He could already picture her legs wrapped around his waist, her head thrown back, how damn good it would feel when he slid into her.
"Thank God," she said as she pulled out a basic navy pinstriped suit. "I was worried you didn't have any clothes that didn't scream pimp."
That snapped him out of his extremely pleasant fantasy. Though maybe she did have a point. He'd never been all that comfortable in the designer clothes that his stylist picked out for him. He hadn't even wanted a stylist in the first place, but his agent had insisted.
Clearly, having Julie around wasn't all bad. Especially if she could do some dirty work for him.
"My stylist isn't going to be too happy with you."
She handed him several conservative suits. "She's fired."
He held back a grin. Who else did he need to get rid of? The guy who cut his hair was kind of annoying too.
"Bring these out, then grab anything else you need," she said. "I'll be waiting in your living room."
He hadn't realized until now how sick he was of everyone doing his bidding without question. It also kind of got his motor running to be bossed around by her. Still, keeping her on her toes was an important part of the dance she probably didn't even realize they were doing.
"I've got some bathing suits that you might fit into if you want to hang out by the pool."
The disgusted look on her face was so cute, he nearly grabbed her and kissed it off.
"First of all, I wouldn't wear one of the thong bikinis from one of your 'girlfriends' "--she put the word in quotes--"if everything else I owned went up in flames."
He nodded. "That's cool. I get it. Girls with dirty minds like you always want to skinny-dip."
She ignored his dig. "You have fifteen minutes to get your stuff together, then we're out of here."
"Just one problem with that," he said.
She sighed a big, chest-heaving sigh that did magnificent things to her breasts. "Why am I not surprised that there's a problem? What is it this time?"
"Bobby's impromptu meeting cut into my workout, and working out is part of my job description."
"How long will that take?"
"A hundred laps usually takes forty-five minutes. I could sprint some of them if you're in a rush to get somewhere."
"No," she said, "We've got all the time in the world."
Wrong. Two weeks wasn't nearly enough time to convince her to give in to what she really wanted.
Him.
In her bed.
Julie couldn't remember the last time she'd felt so off-kilter.
So emotional.
So horny.
He wasn't nearly as dumb as she wished he was. She needed to stop freaking out over every little thing, thereby giving him endless ammo to hold over her.
In the past twenty-four hours she'd been angrier, happier, and more satisfied than she'd been in the past ten years combined.
All because of Ty -- damn him.
When she'd seen his massive iron bed, she'd been hit by breathtaking images of them rolling around naked on it. It made a demon inside her leap to life, one who wanted to be tied up by Ty, who got hot at the thought of lying naked on his bed, her arms up over her head bound by a silk tie. She'd practically heard herself begging him to take her, harder, faster.
Enough!
From this moment forward, she was going to keep her hormones in check. Even if he made her scream in ecstasy, he'd leave her heart stone cold in the morning.
Julie sat on a chaise lounge and put her feet up on the soft cushions. She pulled a pen and a leather-bound notepad out of her bag, deciding to use Ty's workout time to make some notes on her plans for his transformation rather than worrying and drooling over him.
But just as she put pen to paper, Ty emerged from the house. She'd thought his washboard stomach at eighteen was impressive, but the hard, rippling, muscles mere feet from her now were beyond anything she could have imagined.
She lost her breath somewhere between the deep indents of his abdominal muscles and the line of dark hair running from his navel into his low-slung swim shorts. She tried to look away, but she couldn't help but appreciate the beautiful cut of his triceps, the play of the muscles on his back, and the deep valley between his shoulders.
The tip of her pen dug into her palm but she didn't feel it, too busy trying to deal with the lust coursing through her.
She burned to touch him. She yearned to taste him, to run her tongue over the hills and valleys of his incredibly hard abs.
She pulled her gaze up to his eyes, expecting to see victory there. He had to know the kind of power he held over her.
But instead of triumph, something dark and heady simmered in his dark brown eyes. Something that told her he wanted her as much as she wanted him.
A soft voice inside her whispered, Take what you want. Use him the way he used you.
She scrambled off the chair, nearly turning her ankle on the flagstone patio. She couldn't give in to what her body wanted. She had to remember how bad he was for her.
Julie," he said, his voice a caress.
She picked up her bag and held it in front of her like a shield. "Go swim. Please."
Ty was an eighty-five-degree pool kind of guy, but today he needed a cold mountain lake to cool off.
Julie wasn't ready--that was the problem. It was one thing to seduce her in his underground refuge yesterday; he'd wanted to prove to her that she wasn't immune to him, no matter what she professed. But maybe, just maybe, this wasn't a game anymore.
What if he really wanted her to stick around? Then what?
He finished his laps and shook off like a dog before reaching for his towel. He'd had a hard-on that wouldn't quit since he'd first walked into her office. Frankly, it was getting old.
Without saying a word to her, he headed into the shower. He couldn't believe he was about to take care of himself when there was a beautiful woman in his house. He hadn't had to do that since he was a teenager.
Hot water blasted over him as he leaned against the tiles, then reached for his cock and pictured her nak
ed in the shower with him, water running over her perfect tits, licking the drops off her nipples. He'd follow the streaming water running over her belly, between her legs with his hand. He'd slip one finger in her, and she'd be tight and wet and he'd drop to his knees and pull her pussy into his mouth, force his tongue into her, hard and fast until she was screaming. Then just as she started to come, he'd pull her down on top of him and she'd take his cock all the way inside, while their bodies slipped wet and hot against each other. Ty roared in the glass and tile confines of his shower as come spilled into his hand.
Next time, it wouldn't be a fantasy. He wouldn't be doing this by himself.
He'd be inside Julie.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Julie wanted to feel safe again, and the one place she'd always felt totally at ease was at work. Then again, she'd never had a six-foot-two bundle of muscle and sensuality prowling around her office. Even her employees had been reduced to quivering masses of hormones when she'd introduced Ty--and these were smart, savvy women.
She checked email and tried to ignore Ty snooping around her bookshelf, her artwork, her desk. "You built this business all by yourself?" She looked up from her keyboard. "Of course I did."
"No need to get all defensive. It was just a question."
She bit back a protest. He was right; she was acting defensive. It was just that everyone always assumed her parents had helped her out. But she never took their friends as clients. Her business success depended entirely on how she and her employees performed. Not because she was Daddy's little girl, or because Mommy took her shopping for clients at society teas.
"I love what I do," she finally said.
He nodded. "Me too. It's a good thing to like your job. Beats the hell out of hating it."
An actual conversation that wasn't loaded with double entendres. She wasn't sure she was comfortable with that, actually. At least when they were sniping at each other, everything made sense.
Better keep on your guard, she told herself yet again.