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ELEVEN
Edith set down a plate of tapas on the coffee table in front of the couch Rogan sat on in the sitting area of her hotel room. He watched her as she sat down beside him, tucking one leg beneath her and leaning in toward him, being careful not to spill her wine.
“So Rogan, tell me what got you into the technology business.”
He chuckled. “I wouldn’t say I got into the technology business. I’d say the technology business got into me,” he said, bringing his glass up to his lips and taking a small sip.
“I see. Well, you certainly have a knack for the business. You’re a natural.”
He shook his head. “Rayner Technologies was established as a means to make money and keep me out of trouble. Trouble,” he emphasized, “is what I have a knack for.”
A wide smile spread across her face. She reached over and set her glass down on the table in front of them. Then she leaned in toward Rogan, reaching for the collar of his button-down shirt. He didn’t move but watched her with bored disinterest.
“Well, now that we have business out of the way for the night, what would you say to a little… fun?” she said, trailing her fingers down the thin fabric of his shirt, down his chest, in the path of his buttons.
A mischievous gleam tinted her eyes, along with the haze from her Merlot.
The hand that wasn’t holding his drink reached up to grab both of her hands and lock them in his vise grip.
“What are you doing, Edith?”
With her hands constricted, she moved her body in closer, crossing one leg over both of his and planting her plush, scantily clad ass into his lap. The way he had her arms locked together and the angle she now sat in caused her generous cleavage to press together and upward, making it impossible to be ignored.
“You’re an intelligent man, Rogan. I don’t think it’s hard to figure out.”
She rubbed her ass smoothly into his legs, and he worked hard to keep the twitch in his cock at bay. She was only getting started, though, he could see, unless he shut it down fast.
“I think you’ve gotten the wrong idea about our relationship,” he said, still unmoving. He wasn’t going to back down like a retreating dog. He knew that would only lead to a chase he was interested in leading. Instead, he faced her like he faced all his challenges, head on.
“What idea do you think I have?” she asked, also not backing down. Instead, she pressed her firm, round breasts into his chest and hovered her lips dangerously close to his. Her eyes locked on his and didn’t let go.
He had to stifle his inclination to push her off him and give her a tongue thrashing in a much different way than she was clearly hoping for. No, he had to handle this delicately, something he was not accustomed to, or he was about to lose one of the best marketing professionals his company had ever seen. His usual tactics wouldn’t work in this situation because he was used to only dealing with male employees. Had he been dealing with a man, he wouldn’t have been in this precarious position in the first place, and he cursed himself for breaking his previous rule to never hire women.
Farren flashed into his mind. Fuck.
“Clearly, you’ve overestimated your reach,” he said, leaning forward to set his drink down, which forced her to lean backward with him.
She took his movement as a sign that he was playing along, and her smile widened. Her eyes worked their way down and honed in on his lips. Her tongue darted out, and she licked her own lips in anticipation before meeting his eyes again.
“What’s a little fun between two consenting adults?” she said without averting her gaze.
“Maybe you weren’t aware, Edith, and maybe you aren’t as perceptive as I had initially given you credit for, but I’m not a single man.”
“Oh, I’m aware. I’m also aware there’s no ring on your finger, and there’s no one else here to ever have to know. Let’s not make this more than what it has to be,” she urged.
He held her gaze for a moment. What was a little fun between consenting adults? Sure, she was beautiful, lithe, and sharp. They were alone in a private hotel room with no one else around and no chance of being caught. What was a hot-blooded male supposed to do with a hot piece of ass that literally fell right into his lap that no one would ever have to know about?
*
The Convention Center was crowded with people, television screens, and bright, vivid displays as Farren walked through the narrow walkways of the Houston Gamercon Gaming Convention. She realized she felt a bit strange being there alone, especially when the only place she’d gone without the baby in tow in the two months since he’d been born had been to work.
She almost felt like a shadow of her old self for a moment, and she didn’t quite know if it felt good or uncomfortable now.
She walked around, stopping in at various displays to test new games, and maneuvered around the masses of smiling strangers, some dressed in various game character costumes. She was about to walk up on a VirtualReality Expo when she heard someone call her name.
She turned around in time to see Raphe walking up to her wearing a black, throw-back Sonic the Hedgehog tee-shirt with a loose-fitting pair of faded jeans and a pair of green Vans tied loosely on his feet. His hair was mussed, and he smelled like the cologne they sold at PacSun.
“You made it,” he observed, and he stopped just in front of her.
