“Which is even worse. They should know better than to accept an invitation into a guest’s room. If something would happen, the liability is a mess. If someone would…” She had to get dressed, focus on the dinner meeting, be ready with her A-game. “Doug, I can’t do this right now. I won’t write them up or say anything, but no more partying with the employees.”
He stared at her for a moment, then said, “Shit. You’re going to be that girl?”
“What girl?”
“The girl I want to fuck even though I don’t like you. I hate that.”
She stared at him and swallowed hard. Okay, well, she’d asked. “Does that happen a lot?”
“Hot girls are often bitches,” he said with a nod.
She needed to get dressed, but she couldn’t let this go. “But you want to fuck them anyway?”
He shrugged. “I’m not proud of it.”
She crossed her arms, feeling
something
she didn’t particularly like feeling. She should be insulted, and probably turned off by the whole thing. Instead she was afraid she felt a tad jealous. “Do you?”
“Do I what?”
“Fuck them even if you don’t like them?”
He seemed to be thinking. “Maybe twice a year.”
She huffed out a quick breath. “Well, if it’s any consolation, I don’t like you right now either.”
“I suppose that should be a deterrent to wanting you but it’s not. Not with you.”
She didn’t have time for this. She rubbed the middle of her forehead and said, “I do need to get dressed for dinner. Can you clear the place out? Please?”
He nodded. “We’ll just move the game downstairs.”
She started toward the bathroom, then turned back. “Downstairs?”
“There’s an employee lounge. A nice one. Couches and a TV.”
He’d been down in the employee lounge? She pressed her lips together and counted to three to focus, then said patiently, “Doug, you can’t go play video games and eat potato chips in the hotel basement with the employees. You’re a guest. You’re
my
guest. I want you to take advantage of the hotel amenities, enjoy yourself, relax.”
“I’ll enjoy myself down there.” He started for the living room.
“Doug,” she said quickly.
He turned back.
“I need you here. In the room.” It wasn’t about him getting into trouble when she wasn’t around to supervise. At least, not completely. She needed to be thinking about him in the room. Naked. Like she had been all day. She had been excited to get back to the room all afternoon.
“Why?”
“I need…” She trailed off and took a deep breath, trying to figure out how to word this without sounding completely pathetic. “I need a reason to come back to the room. I need a…temptation.”
He just watched her for a minute. Then he came back across the carpet, stopping directly in front of her. “I don’t want to be accused of not doing my job here.” He took her face in his hands and brought her onto her tiptoes for a kiss.
His lips moving over hers shot heat straight through her and she immediately arched closer, her arms going around his neck so she could press her whole body against him. His hands went to her butt and lifted her up close. When he let her go she found herself wanting so much more.
“Something like that?” he asked.
She blinked. “Um, yeah. Something like that.”
“Then I’ve definitely got this covered.”
He absolutely did. She didn’t just want to hurry back to the room—she didn’t want to leave it in the first place.
Morgan was nervous about the dinner with her boss and her jerk-thief ex-boyfriend. But she was almost more nervous about leaving Doug in the suite by himself.
Which served her right.
Bringing a near-total stranger to town for an important business meeting might not have been her brightest move.
As she curled and tucked and sprayed her hair into place, she debated taking him to dinner with her. She realized she did know some things about Doug that made him a great choice for the trip in general. First and foremost, she didn’t want to be with anyone else after dinner. That was huge. That was key. She also knew he could flirt with the best of them and talk a woman out of her panties in less than twenty minutes. Also important.
But she didn’t know if he could talk politely—not to mention intelligently—to a man like Jonathan Britton. She had no idea if Doug knew any entertaining stories or only dirty jokes. Somehow she was sure he knew a few of those.
Her phone was lying next to the sink on the counter top where only a few hours ago he’d made her come without even touching her himself. Exchanging her curling iron for her phone, she typed in
Do you know any dirty jokes?
and sent it to his phone.
How are women and tornadoes the same?
his reply read.
She smiled and typed,
How?
They both make a lot of noise when they come and they take the house when they leave.
She giggled. She knew he’d have a dirty joke ready to go.
Resuming work on her hair, she thought about how she liked him anyway. She just couldn’t take him to dinner. What if he drank too much? Belched? Dropped the F-bomb in the midst of polite conversation? It wasn’t incredibly bright to bring him along without knowing those things for sure, but at least if he was in the room it wouldn’t matter and she would have a reason to come directly back to the suite after dinner. Before any Kahlua was served. Before Todd could be charming.
With a deep breath and a final look in the mirror, she grabbed her phone, tucked her lipstick in her handbag and stepped out of the bathroom.
“Holy crap.”
She couldn’t help the smile at Doug’s reaction. It wasn’t the most eloquent compliment she’d ever been given but she could tell it was heartfelt. He had been lounging on the sofa, channel surfing, but when she appeared, he pushed himself off the cushions, looking stunned.
“What?” she asked.
He wasn’t even dressed up. He was wearing a T-shirt and shorts. His jaw was scruffy, as usual, his hair looked like he’d just run his fingers through it, as usual, and he was barefoot.
But it didn’t matter. She wouldn’t be putting in any extra time downstairs.
For that alone, she was glad she’d brought him along.
“Nothing,” he finally said.
“Why aren’t you saying anything else?” Was he still mad at her from earlier? Maybe she’d been too bitchy. But how did he not understand the issue with having the guys in their room?
“I’m just standing here trying to figure out what the hell you’re doing with me,” he told her.
Oh. She liked that. “I’m using you for protection,” she said honestly.
He came around the end of the sofa. “Protection from falling into bed with another guy, right?”
That was the bottom line, yes. But this felt like…something more. Which was not a good idea, she knew. She needed him for a couple of days for very superficial—and naughty—things. Period. He wasn’t someone she intended to date. Definitely not. She needed to date men she
could,
at some point, take to dinner with her boss. Hell, she needed to date men she could leave alone in a hotel suite and not worry about noise complaints or spilled grape soda.
“Right. You’re here to keep me from doing something stupid with Todd,” she said resolutely. She was going to simply ignore the risk of doing something stupid with Doug.
Doug frowned and moved in closer. “Something stupid? Like sleeping with him.” He touched her shoulder with an open palm and dragged his hand down her arm.
Oh, yeah. His hand needed to keep up with that—in lots of places.
“Like sleeping with him,” she admitted.
“I’m sorry he sucks in bed,” Doug said.
She grinned. “He doesn’t suck in bed. That’s part of the problem.”
Doug scowled, running his hand up and down her arm again. “But he’s married?”
“He’s not married.”
“He’s a dumb ass?”
She raised an eyebrow. “No. He’s intelligent. In fact, that’s also part of the problem.”
“So what’s the deal? Did he dump you?” He shook his head in disgust. “What an idiot.”
She appreciated his opinion. She didn’t appreciate his assumption. “He didn’t dump me. I broke it off. I haven’t returned a phone call or e-mail for almost four months.”
“Then what’s the deal? He likes to wear women’s shoes? He’s a racist? He has no sense of humor?”
She sighed. “He’s a good-looking, charming, smart guy who’s amazing in bed.” She lifted a shoulder. “He’ll be putting the moves on me. So I need a very potent Todd-suppressant. That’s you.”
Doug’s frown grew darker. “So he’ll be trying to get you into bed?”
She sighed. “It’s possible, yes. He doesn’t know why I stopped communicating with him.” She studied the whiskers on Doug’s chin instead of meeting his eyes.
“Are you going to tell him?” Doug asked.
“Maybe.” But probably not. She still felt like an idiot for letting it happen in the first place. Confronting him about it would be admitting she’d been fooled.
He tipped her chin up. “You don’t have to tell me. I’m here with you no matter what. I’m more than happy to be your Todd-suppressant for the weekend.
More
than happy to keep you out of another man’s bed. But I think you should tell him what he did wrong.”
She took a deep breath. “What if he apologizes? What if he makes me see his side? What if I’m tempted to forgive him?”
Something flickered in Doug’s eyes. “I sure as hell don’t want that to happen,” he said. “Not if it increases the risk of him getting you naked. But—” he moved his hand from her face and tucked them in the pockets of his shorts, “—you deserve the chance to tell him off. It might help you get him out of your system. Especially if he’s
not
apologetic. Then you won’t need a suppressant. I’m a short-term fix, you know?”
She did know that. Even if she didn’t like it.
“He’ll be apologetic,” she said. “He won’t want me to be pissed, because he’ll hope he can get even more ideas out of me.”
“Ideas?”
“Ideas for the hotel. I haven’t talked to him in four months because he stole my ideas.” It would be helpful if Doug agreed with her, shared her outrage, even got her a little worked up against Todd before dinner. She needed as much armor against Todd’s effect on her as she could get.
“Ideas for this meeting?” Doug asked.
“No, our hotels. He’s the manager in Minneapolis. He took my ideas and implemented them in his hotel. Then took credit and got recognition from Mr. Britton and the company.”
“He claimed they were his?” Doug asked.
“Yes.” She hated thinking about how dumb she’d been to trust Todd when she’d barely known him. But great sex made her stupid. She was in a suite hundreds of miles from home for three days with a guy because he’d been good against an elevator wall. Just for instance.
“Why’d you tell him your plans?” Doug asked with a frown.
“Hey, I didn’t know he’d
steal
them. It’s not my fault. I just—” It was too much to hope that he’d let her sudden break off go without asking more.
“You just what?” he asked.
“Nothing.” Which was, of course, the sure-fire answer to give if you wanted someone to keep pushing for information.
He tipped her chin up again before she realized she wasn’t making eye contact.
“You just what, Morgan? It would help me help you if I knew all the details.”
She wasn’t so sure of that. It was possible he’d use the knowledge against her too. “I didn’t mean to tell him anything. It’s just… I get talkative after…”
Doug’s eyebrows shot up and she caught the curve to the one corner of his mouth before he hid it. “You get talkative after…”
“A good orgasm.”
She could tell he fought another smile.
“First, all orgasms are good. Second, I’m feeling hurt I haven’t noticed this.”
“Clearly elevators don’t lend themselves well to cuddling and talking afterward,” she said dryly.
“Phone sex doesn’t count?”
It was crazy but her body heated with just that much of a reminder. “Guess if
I
technically do it, it doesn’t count.”
He leaned close. “I look forward to testing that theory later.”
She licked her lips. “Anyway. I got too talkative and told him some things he took and used to get noticed by Mr. Britton. I’m thinking this meeting would be a time when he’d be sure to find out my secrets.”
Doug lifted a hand and dragged the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip. “I wonder what secrets you’ll tell me. ’Cause I don’t want to hear about the hotel.”
“What do you want to hear?” she asked, her lips tingling from his touch.
“Your dirtiest fantasies, how hard you like your nipples sucked, the time you French kissed your college roommate.”
She managed to chuckle even as she had a hard time breathing deep. “Never kissed my college roommate. Sorry.”
“You can’t make up a story for a nice guy?” he asked.
She smiled up at him. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thanks.” His hands settled on her hips and pulled her close. “I also want to hear what you say or sound like when you come when I’m inside you and you’re not holding back because we’re in an elevator. I want to hear your words of encouragement when I put my tongue between your legs and—”
She slapped her hand over his mouth, feeling wobbly in the knees. “Stop. I have to go to dinner.”
He wrapped his big fingers around her wrist, kissed the palm of her hand then pulled her hand from his mouth. “I could make you forget all about dinner.”
“Sure, for a half hour or so,” she said with a shaky laugh.
“You, Morgan James, have been with the wrong guys,” he informed her. “Half hour my ass.”
She drew in a deep breath. “I look forward to you proving that.
After
dinner.”
He grinned. “Eat fast.”
This was exactly what she needed. There would be no dessert tonight. At least not at the table.
She stepped through the door, but hesitated and turned back. “Hey, do me a favor.”
“’Kay,” he said easily.
“Text me something dirty in thirty minutes.”
“Dirty, huh?”
“Like ‘I want to—’”