“Um…no. Why spoil my birthday party?”
He winced theatrically, and quirked those decadent lips. “I would think they would be delighted that you had brought the dragon up to scratch.”
Her intensified blush brought a broader grin. How the heck had he known that’s what she called him when talking to her family? Had he eavesdropped on her? The jerk. “I don’t think you should go with me.”
His eyes probed her red face. “Tell me, Furie…were you even planning to come back to Aspen after your party, or did you plan to send the jet on without you?”
Caught. She chewed the corner of her lower lip. “I need some time. You tricked me, dammit! I need time to sort through all this. You owe that that much. I was your gofer for seven years, and you didn’t even know I was female. Then, out of the blue, you decide to trap me into staying any way you can. You knew I planned to tell you to take your cushy job and shove it, and you trapped me. You owe me.”
“Trapped you?” His brow lifted wickedly. “I would say you trapped me, with that fucking sexy dress and hanging all over me and rubbing that sweet pussy on my thigh and-”
Her face grew hot. She jerked her hand up to stop his words, and she swallowed hard. “I never…”
“Oh, you did. And you shoved my shirt up and licked my nipples. Want all the gory details, Furie?”
She couldn’t get her breath. OMG. Had she really done that?
Her lack of response seemed to have been taken as permission to continue, and he leaned in close to whisper seductively in her ear. “You rubbed my cock through my pants until I thought I would burst, and when you pulled it out and sucked on it, I was lost. Hell yeah, you did all that.”
She squirmed on the seat, her pussy getting soaked just listening to him. And then he was on the floor between her thighs, and his hands were unzipping her slacks. “Have I made you horny telling you what you did to me? Would you like me to do that for you, Furie? Come on, lift your hips…” He dragged her slacks down and off her and shoved her legs wide, bending to lick her glistening pussy lips as he drew the wet thong aside.
Jill threw her head back against the seat and bit back the cry of delight that almost left her lips at the feel of his hot tongue laving her slit. “Stop! We’re almost to the airport.”
“Then you need to have an orgasm fast so the driver won’t find us here with my face buried in your cunt.” His voice was a rasp of amusement as he sucked her throbbing knot of hot nerves into his lips and tugged seductively on it until she arched up and shattered into a million sparkling embers.
“Another one?” He breathed against her pussy and she felt his lean fingers slipping deep into her as he sought her G-spot, while his lips tugged so delightfully on her clit once more.
“ Oh. My. God!” she gasped, as she spiraled once again into the throes of another trembling, splintering climax. And when he withdrew his fingers and licked them, his eyes holding hers, she breathed raggedly, “You are a wicked, wicked man, Boss.”
“And you are a hot, tasty morsel that I am going to thoroughly enjoy as soon as your party is over, and I get you alone again.”
Chapter Six
No amount of cajolery, threats or pleas could keep the damn man from boarding that plane, and so Jill settled in for the short flight home. Her nemesis closed his eyes and leaned back into his plush seat opposite hers, and she tried not to stare at him. She wanted to remain pissed off. But by the time they touched down at the commuter jetport at LAX, she had memorized every line and sexy whisker on his face, counted every deliciously long dark lash that curved over those high cheekbones, and had smiled as she discovered that he snored slightly, but only when his head fell off the side of the seat cushion.
When his eyes blinked open, and he yawned capaciously, Jill struggled to hide the fact that she had been ogling every damn inch of the man while he slept. Oh, but he was scrumptious. Even out cold, he was enough to keep her panties wet through the entire trip. Naked or clothed, he was enough to set a woman aflame.
As they debarked and she was seated in the elegant Rolls Silver Shadow that he had arranged to travel from LAX to her parents’ home in Culver, she wondered exactly how she was going to introduce her boss/husband to her family. Here she was, bringing home the man they all thought was a complete chauvinistic asshole, and she was sporting his huge ring. She winced as she thought of what her father would say to him, without even waiting to hear an explanation. And Tim and Tom…they had mentioned how they planned to flatten his face when they saw him. The twins were not going to cut the man an inch of slack, unless she could get to them first.
If the big jerk insisted on accompanying her, she needed to make certain he wasn’t going to get mangled. He watched her thoughtfully as she drew the sat phone out and dialed her parents’ house number. He said nothing. He waited until she got the voice mail and hung up in disgust before speaking.
“I already called. They know I’m coming with you.”
Her mouth dropped open. “You already called? When?”
“When you were taking your sweet time getting out of the hotel. I figured they needed to know the score. I must say, your mother took it well. But I could hear a male voice in the background threatening to take my cock and wrap it around my throat. I was flattered that he thought it was that long.” His lips curved into a wicked grin at the shock on her face.
“You told them,” she grated furiously.
“I told them. I’m not sure what reception I’ll get when we arrive, but there will be no shocks.”
Panic welled inside her. How the hell was she going to face her family? After all the years of hearing them say what a bastard Michael Furie was, and for her to end up married to him…oh God! She would never hear the end of it.
A lean hand wrapped itself around hers where it rested on her lap, twisting her teal pantsuit into a wad. She glanced up, and with her free hand dashed away the tears that slid down her face. “My brothers have sworn to rip your throat out. I hope you’re prepared for mayhem…”
“Is that tear for me? You don’t want to see my mangled body lying on the front lawn?” His voice was deep and gruff.
She drew a deep, shivery breath, and sniffed. Was it for him? Or was it for herself? How could she face her family when she was married to a man simply for his convenience? No white wedding. No big reception. No family breakfast. Of course, her dad would be thrilled that he’d been saved the huge expense of a wedding. But her mother had been cheated out of the fun of helping plan her only daughter’s trousseau.
Oh well. Maybe after her boss got tired of her, and divorced her, she could have the next wedding the way her mom had always planned. She drew a shivery breath, and then gasped aloud as her boss/hubby slipped a long arm around her and drew her into his chest in an almost comforting manner. “Relax. Somebody might think you don’t even like me, Furie.” His voice was a soft growl close above her ear, and she closed her eyes and buried her face against the warm, delicious skin of his throat.
“I hate you.” She breathed wearily.
“No, you don’t.” His chin rested on the top of her head, and she could feel it when he kissed her tousled hair.
“I want to hate you,” she amended as a shiver of reaction ran along her nerves at the touch of lean fingers slipping inside the neckline of her blouse to trace over the swell of her breast.
“We have half an hour before we arrive. Will that be enough time to convince you that you don’t hate me?” His lips caressed the nerve at the base of her ear, and she whimpered.
“Stop kissing me.”
“Okay,” he whispered huskily, and instead, he licked the vein that ran from her throat to her collarbone.
“Oooh,” she moaned, and shoved at his head without much effect. “I don’t want you touching me.”