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"So, are they rumors?" She reached into the cupboard for a box of crackers. She was never shy with her questions. I liked that about her. One of many things I liked about her.
I refilled my glass. "I'm sure he's embellished the stories some, but maybe rumors is the wrong word. Let's just say, he doesn't want me as competition so he's making sure people stay clear of me. A monstrously wealthy banking family is having a big networking party tonight in Beverly Hills and Grant managed to erase me from the guest list. I've got to hand it to him, he's more ruthless than I realized. Still, it would have been a great opportunity to meet new entrepreneurs looking for investors."
Shay reached into the box for another cracker. "Crash the party."
I leaned against the kitchen counter and tipped my head sideways. "I should have pegged you as the party crasher type." The Peyton party would be a gold mine for networking, and it was the perfect launch event for my new company. "You know what, I think I will crash it. But first I have to go down to the local print shop and see if I can get a rush job on business cards."
"That's the spirit. Which reminds me, I'll be leaving for a few hours. I've got someone—something I need to do."
"That's fine. You're not a prisoner here."
"No? Seems to me the warden just had me tied up a few minutes ago."
I closed the gap between us and reached into the cracker box she was still holding. "Indeed, my little jail bird, you liked that, didn't you?"
"Maybe," she said sweetly. She lifted her finger and licked the salt off the top of it. I hadn't expected the gesture and a groan rolled up from my throat before I could stop it. "But what's the use of having my hands tied, if there is no delicious punishment to go with it?"
She was pulling me into a trance again, making my pulse race so fast it drummed all reason and coherent thoughts from my head.
I stared down at her lips. "You have a little salt"—I pointed at her bottom lip— "Right there." My voice cracked in my throat as I spoke.
The pink tip of her small tongue lathed across her bottom lip. She peered up at me with big brown eyes that were glassed with innocence but that held a glimmer of an erotic tease. "Did I get it all?" she asked softly.
I was up against a pro.
"I'd have to taste your lip to know for sure." I lowered my face so close to hers, I could feel her warm breath on my mouth. Her long throat moved with a hard swallow. And I briefly wondered if she wanted the kiss as much as I wanted it. Or was she just that good at acting? That thought cooled my head just enough. I straightened. Her shoulders drooped in disappointment. It was the money, I assured myself. Not the kiss.
"I would love to stand around and talk dirty, raunchy daydreams with you, my tiny dancer, but I've got to plan for a party crash." I headed out of the kitchen and another idea popped into my head. "Why don't you come with me? We can crash it together. I'll introduce you as my girlfriend."
"Ah, so people see that you've settled down to one girl. If you'd like. After all, you're the boss."
"Damn right."
17
Shay ran her fingers along the leather armrest of the passenger seat. "I know I've said this a few times, but I love this car." For the tenth time, she finished her declaration by tugging the hem of the tight black dress farther down her thighs.
She caught my smile. "What's so funny?"
"I just think it's cute how you keep modestly pulling down that hem when I've seen you naked and spread wide in the shower. And may I just add that it was the best non-contact shower sex I've ever had."
"Thank you. I rather enjoyed it myself." Without thinking, she tugged at the dress again and then grunted in frustration. "I don't know why I keep doing that. I think I'm just nervous. I've never crashed a party before."
I pulled my eyes from the line of traffic and looked at her. "The way you confidently suggested the idea, I thought you had a lot of crashing experience."
"Me?" Her silky hair shimmered as she shook her head. "Nope. I never needed to crash one because, unlike you, I always get the invite."
"Very funny, miss popular. I'll bet you were every guy's high school crush. I would have been sneaking glances at you from behind my locker door if you'd been at my school." She looked over at me and I nodded. "Yes, that sounded creepy once I said it out loud. My dad actually pulled me out of my exclusive private school because I wanted to go to a dance." I turned toward the off-ramp.
"Jeez, that would be comical if it weren't so darn awful."
