Abby (Tate Family Holidays 2)

I put on a fake smile. “Hi. I’m with Tate Construction. Mr. Wilder was going to leave plans for the new hotel here for me.”

She stares at me for a minute and then presses a button and speaks into the phone. “Mr. Wilder, uh, Tate Construction is here for the hotel plans… yeah, sure.”

She hangs up and slowly gets up from her seat. “Follow me. Maybe wipe your boots if you don’t mind.”

I shake my head at her. Really? This one has all kinds of personality. I look down at my boots and they’re clean. I normally would give her a piece of my mind, but I keep my mouth shut and follow her to an office. She opens the door and ushers me in.

My heart slams into my chest. Because the bare-chested boxer from last night, the man that made my body do things it’s never done before, the one that brought me to five orgasms in one night, is standing before me. Well, it’s him, but it’s not the man I know. This man has his hair slicked back. A white button-down shirt on under a suit jacket and black pants with black shiny shoes.

My hands clutch at the bottom of my vest. I’m totally out of my element here.

He lays the papers in his hands on his desk and walks over to me. His eyes greedily look me up and down. “Abby. What are you doing here? I mean, it’s great to see you.” He looks over my head and dismisses his secretary. “That will be all, Janice.”

“Uh, do you work here? I mean… duh, of course you work here. What is your last name, Brent?” I stutter.

His face tenses up and his forehead wrinkles. “Wilder. My last name is Wilder.”

“You mean to tell me that you’re the owner of Wilder Properties? You…own… all of this. You’re our new client?”

“Client?” he asks me, ignoring my first question.

My hands go to my hips. “Yes. Client. I’m with Tate Construction.”

The surprise on his face is almost comical. However, I can’t bring myself to laugh. “Jackson is going to kill me.”

“What does Jackson have to do with this?” he asks me before bending down and kissing me, pulling me tightly against him.

I struggle out of his arms. “I slept with you last night. A client… a very important client to let him tell it.” My breath starts coming in quicker. Last night was perfect, but obviously that’s all it will be. I had no idea that he was THE Brent Wilder. If there’s ever two people from more different worlds it’s the two of us.

I slap my forehead with my palm. “Why didn’t you tell me who you were?”

He grabs my hand and kisses it. “It never came up. You never told me you worked construction, which you know we’re going to talk about, right?”

“There’s nothing to talk about. Where are the plans at? I need to get to work.” I tug my hand and step back away from him.

He loosens his tie and pulls off his jacket. “Why are you making this into such a big deal?”

With panic in my voice, I ask him, “Why are you undressing?”

He shrugs. “Honestly? Because you’re looking at me like you don’t know me. I’m just wanting to remind you that you know exactly who I am. If I did my job right, you can still feel me between your sweet thighs.”

My lower belly tightens at his words, but I’m determined not to be swayed. I watch him roll up the sleeves of his dress shirt and when he bares his forearms, memories from last night flash before my mind.

“I have to get to work, Brent,” I tell him, but I can feel myself weakening.

“Oh, I’ll let you get to work. But I’m going to make sure you get there with the smell of me covering your skin.”

He pulls my vest down my arms and then my shirt up over my head. Before I can even react, he has my breast free and he is already latched onto my nipple before my bra even hits the floor. The moan that leaves my mouth vibrates off the walls. He’s tugging down my pants and underwear in one fast swoop. He picks me up and then stands me back on my feet facing his desk, pushing me face down on it. My naked butt is up in the air and his hands caress my back, sliding down until he’s palming each cheek and massaging me.

I spread my legs as wide as they’ll go since my pants are down around my ankles. I’m on the balls of my feet, almost begging him for mercy. “Please, Brent. Please.”

His voice is low and husky. “What do you need, Abby? Tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you.”