Lassoed (Steele Ranch 5)

1

NATALIE

* * *

“This isn’t a date.”

“The client isn’t here any longer, which means it’s no longer a drinks meeting. We’re two adults at a restaurant. Alone.” My boss, Alan Perkins, leaned across the table and gave me a sly grin to accompany those words.

I did everything in my power not to roll my eyes. It wouldn’t have gone over well. He’d been asking me out since my first day on the job eighteen months ago, but I’d put him off. Over and over again. Until now.

Not that this was a date.

I watched as the rep from the local chain of retail stores I’d wooed since January walked away—home to his wife and three kids—leaving me alone with Alan.

I exhaled slowly, folded my hands in my lap and squeezed them together. I could be doing so many things at this moment instead of this. Laundry. A cross-training class. Getting a root canal. The meeting with the client had been important, but now? Sitting here in the fancy restaurant with Alan? Misery.

“I don’t think HR would consider a client meeting a date,” I countered.

Alan was in his early forties. Attractive in that…old boys’ club sort of way. He worked out, had all his hair, didn’t have bad breath and dressed nicely. He turned heads wherever he went, but not mine. I wasn’t blinded by the polish, the money or even the slick smile. I’d heard through the office grapevine he’d been handsy with one of the office cleaning staff, but had kept it under wraps so his wife wouldn’t find out. He didn’t want to be cut off from her piles of cash, the country club lifestyle or from his job since his father-in-law was the owner of the company.

Being handsy was a nice way of saying he was a cheater. And a sneaky one at that. Or, he wanted to cheat, or thought about cheating. I had to wonder if the employee had enjoyed his advances or repeatedly shut him down as I had. I had to hope she was a smart woman and had asked to be reassigned.

To me, even mentally straying called for divorce. Who wanted to be with a man who even spent time thinking about being with someone else? Fantasy was something else entirely. I thought of Tom Hardy frequently when I pulled out my vibrator, but that wasn’t the same as feeling up the people who worked for you.

“…as I said, it’s after hours. No work talk.”

I blinked, focused on Alan again. I’d been straying this time, glancing over his shoulder and catching a glimpse once again of the two men sitting at the bar. Tom Hardy was now bumped down my fantasy list because tall, dark and handsome times two moved to the top. They were sitting down so I couldn’t really confirm they were actually tall, but they seemed to be. Dressed casually in jeans and button-down shirts, one had his sleeves rolled up, and I couldn’t help but notice his corded forearms and big hands.

I loved looking at a guy’s hands, wondered all the things he could do with them. Perhaps cupping my breasts, slipping a finger into my mouth so I could suck on it, make it wet so he could brush it over my back entrance, tease me.

Whoa, that was a big, and very naughty, jump.

I squirmed in the booth seat and stilled when Mr. Big Hands’ eyes met mine. Dark, intense and full of heat, as if he’d been able to read my dirty thoughts. My heart skipped a beat and I licked my lips, suddenly dry mouthed. His focus caught the attention of his friend and he looked at me, too.

Where the first was broody, the second was casual, at ease with the quick smile he tossed my way. Full lips twisted into a wicked grin, his eyes raking over me, settling briefly on my breasts. My nipples pebbled at the thought of that mouth on them, sucking, licking, even giving a slight tug.

I wasn’t a virgin. That first time in college had been long ago. I’d learned a lot since then, especially about myself. I was adventurous, confident in my own sexuality, but I’d never considered two men at once before.

Until now. Until these two.

“What do you say, Nat?”