Dwelling in Desire Ch. 07

Her eyes grew wider as she continued to casually retreat from me. It was clear that she wanted to maintain a professional distance. An arm's length at least. Now that she'd shown me her drawings, there was no reason to be crushed up against one another in the small doorway. No reason whatsoever.

"Yeah, fishing gear," she stuttered. "Or whatever."

"Or whatever," I drawled.

Her expression grew more nervous, her little feet backing steadily away from me, betraying her discomfort. I couldn't help but notice the delightful impression of her arousal against her tight tee shirt. My fists clenched.

"So the hooks would be here," I ran my hand over the wall to my right, my eyes never leaving hers.

She nodded quickly.

"And the drawers would be here," I grazed my fingertips along the left wall.

Another nod.

"And the closed cabinets," I took two more steps, and she could back away no further. I reached over her shoulder and pressed my hand against the wall at her back. "Those would be here?"

It was not a question. I looked deep into her eyes as she nodded, her chest rising and falling more rapidly.

My eyes fell to her heaving breasts, savoring the subtle squirms.

Lower.

Her cute little shorts, crowning adorable sun-kissed legs.

Her tiny feet, in her fucking hot pink thong sandals.

Sandals, which were now confined within the massive imprint from my trunk. The trunk I knew she had looked in.

My hand had not moved from the wall she was pressed against.

"I was thinking, if you want, we could have the cabinets be lockable," she breathed, her eyes drifting down as she said it.

"Lockable?" I smirked.

"Mmhmm," she nodded, her eyes fluttering this way and that as she tried to play it cool.

"Why would we do that?" I teased.

"For your privacy," she explained softly.

"I could just put a lock on the door," I suggested, my eyes still roaming shamelessly over her body.

"Or you could do that," she nodded. "That might be better actually."

Her chest was rising and falling as she squeezed her legs together. Her feet squirmed in her little sandals against the plush carpeting.

"Yes," I drawled. "Why keep private what is in a couple cabinets, when you can keep the whole room private?"

"Yes," she whispered.

"Yes," I purred.

Fuck it.

I moved slowly. Planting my other hand against the wall, I caged her in.

"Bethany," I whispered.

Her jaw dropped a few degrees, and she shifted back more, as far as she could get. But there was nowhere to go.

She shut her eyes, and I heard her little gasp.

I closed in. I could feel her breath softly grazing my face. She smelled so good.

"Meese Beth? I'm nearly feeneeshed Meese Beth!" called a husky Russian voice from the hall.

Ccchrist.

Bethany's eyes shot open, and she flinched in surprise.

The spell was broken. Fucking broken.

"Okay Alek! I'll be right there!" she called back, as she ducked under my arm and slipped away. She was gone from my sight in a flash.

Fuck.

Not a word of protest though. Nerves, yes. Hesitation, yes. But protest, no. Not exactly.

Maybe she was just scared. Scared of what I would do if she tried to run. She had to know I wouldn't hurt her. I would never allow anyone to hurt her.

But then, look at what I had nearly done. I had very nearly compromised our professional relationship. A professional relationship that was important to her.

At the moment, I couldn't have cared less whether my house ended up pretty enough to impress or not. Not if it dictated whether I could have her.

But Bethany's priorities were different. She was a pro. She wanted to succeed. To deliver on the job she had promised to do. The job I had paid her for. It meant so much to her.

I emitted a frustrated grunt, and pushed away from the wall before turning to follow her.

What had I done?

---

"Thank you Alek," I did my best to smile as I accepted the stack of papers from him. "I'll contact you as soon as the drapes are ready, and hardware will ship straight to you."

"Excellent Miss Beth," he nodded. "You hev a nice day."

"You too," I waved just before I shut the door behind him.

My heart was still pounding from that...interlude with Curt in the closet. How I'd managed to compose myself enough to answer some questions for Alek, I did not know.

"So..." came a deep voice.

I turned and saw Curt staring down at me from the top of the staircase.

"Meese Beyuth," he gave me a cocky grin, and I couldn't help but giggle.

The sexual tension was now denser than last year's Christmas fruitcake, and he could still cut through it enough to make me laugh.

"Don't make fun of Alek," I admonished. "He's the best in the business. So what if he might have connections with the mob?"

"Well, as long as he's the best," Curt smiled. God he had such a gorgeous, sexy smile. Mischievous. Cunning. Like he wanted to devour me.

And he very nearly had. My smile faded in recollection as he slowly descended the stairs.

He approached me, but didn't come nearly as close as before. Curt's expression had turned grim, and it did not become him at all.

"Look, Bethany," he began. "I'm sorr..."

"I have an appointment in the city tomorrow at noon to finalize our upholstered pieces," I squeaked, interrupting him. "You're welcome to join me."

Curt blinked in surprise, and then frowned.

"I know you're very busy Curt, but I thought I would at least offer. You'll be the one using the furniture, so ideally you would test it personally before purchasing."

His mouth opened, and he began to answer before I interjected again, "It would only take a half hour. Forty-five minutes tops. It's at The Mart in Chicago, off of West Kinzie."

A few awkward seconds passed. I eventually looked him in the eyes, trying desperately not to explode. He made me feel unstable that way.

I felt like I was going to...explode. Or implode. Or something. I didn't know what.

"Yes," he accepted in a firm voice. "I'll join you. Be at my office at a quarter til, and we'll ride together. I'll text you the address."

I swallowed in surprise. That wasn't part of the deal. Riding with him was not part of the deal.

"The parking at my office is free," he added quickly. "Just park in one of the reserved spots for Donovan & Martell."

Shoot. Who could argue with free parking? And in the city, no less. Sheesh.

Riding with a handsome rich bachelor, and free parking. I could think of worse things. But those lust charged minutes in the closet not half an hour ago had caused a significant shift in tension. Things had gone from awkward to freaking insane.

My invitation to Curt was an attempt to normalize things. He would partake in a business related activity. Testing furniture for his home. It was business. I needed to stabilize things quickly to ensure that the project didn't go off the rails.

Except now I would have to ride with him. Alone with him. In his car. His turf. His rules.

I didn't know if I could handle it, but there was only one way to find out.

"Okay," I agreed.

"Good ghh..." Curt began. Then he frowned, and cleared his throat.

"Good," he finished.

He had cut himself off from saying something. What was it?

"Is that it?" he asked.

"Umm, oh I forgot," I stuttered. "My carpenter is gonna need a deposit for the cabinets. If you know which option you like better for the closet, I'll submit the drawing to him and get a final price. I can text you with the amount due, and maybe you can cut him a check when I see you tomorrow?"

"Works for me," he agreed. "Let's go with option B. It looked so nice in your sketch, I don't think we can go wrong."

"Thanks Curt," I smiled. "I'll text you tonight with the deposit amount."

"Perfect," Curt grinned. "And don't worry about the lock for the door. I'll have my security company take care of it."

Security company?

"Umm, okay great," I mused as I tried not to read too much into that.

"I'll see you tomorrow Bethany," he walked me to the door once I'd collected my purse. "Drive safe okay?"

"Yes Dad," I teased, instantly regretting my words.

Ugh, what a horrible thing to say! Dammit Beth, couldn't you have just said 'Bye'?

The look on his face killed me. He didn't look insulted exactly, or mad, but my stupid comment had clearly had an impact. I couldn't read his expression but I knew that I had fucked up.

"I'm sorry Curt, that was unprofessional. I was teasing, but sometimes my sarcasm goes a little too far."

I shook my head and looked down in shame.

Then the fingers. His sexy fingers. His intoxicating smell.

The strong fingers lifted my chin, both commanding my attention and saturating my panties in an instant.

"Don't apologize Bethany. I may be an old man, but I can laugh about it."

"No..." I began to interject.

"Sshhh," Curt whispered firmly, his thumb brushing my lips to silence me. "It's fine Bethany. Do you understand?"

I didn't. But he apparently was not angry.

"Yes," I nodded as best I could before backing away from the warm fingers.

His gaze was intense as the silence stretched on for far too long. I couldn't keep eye contact with this man. He was just too much.

"Okay, I'll see you tomorrow Curt."

"See you then. Remember, my office, a quarter to twelve."

I nodded and scurried off to my car before he could see me turn red as a tomato.

His eyes. His deep commanding voice. His strong warm hands planted on either side of my head, trapping me, priming me for his kiss.

My business relationship with Curt was dependent on my overlooking those surreal few minutes in the closet. It had never happened. It was my dirty sex-starved imagination playing tricks on me.

We would continue business as usual, no muss no fuss.

But at night. At night, beneath the covers, I would never forget. Not one millisecond of when I had been at his mercy. Ready to succumb. Ready to give myself.

His body heat enveloping me, his breath on me. His lips only inches from mine. His eyes. His thumb pressing for that split second against my mouth.

I would never forget.

---

Sweet Jesus. What was happening here?

I'd driven easily a hundred miles an hour to get home and...what? Seduce Bethany? Rape her? What?

Nothing had gone as planned, and what was worse, was there'd been no definite plan. I was normally the organized one. The strategic one. The rational one.

With Bethany, there was no chance of being rational. She undid me.

Those minutes in the closet. I had been so close. So very close. I'd had her only a breath away. I'd been moving in, and she hadn't fought it or tried to get away. Until the spell was broken.

The spell that convinced me I could have her, and Bethany that I was worth having.

I knew I had to stay away from her. So why then had I accepted her invitation to join her tomorrow?

Because. She asked.

She had asked me, and for whatever reason I hadn't the stomach to refuse her a damned thing. Even if it was against the rules.

Bethany was such a beautiful girl. Beautiful, sweet, and smart. And young.

The young thing should have played no role in whether I was attracted to her, but in her case, she brought something out in me. A new dimension of need.

When she'd teasingly called me "Dad" I'd nearly lost control. I didn't know whether to laugh, cry, or tackle her to the ground.

She was so fucking apologetic, it was adorable. But the last thing I wanted her to do was feel remorse for calling me Dad. The generic term of endearment was so fucking close to what I wanted, I couldn't bear the idea that she would blacklist it from her vocabulary around me.

It wasn't simply the word that I wanted. The word was just the whipped cream topping on a sundae I would never have.

But I'd had a taste today, another taste. I'd touched her chin again...seen her eyes widen again, and savored the thrilling aura of disarming her. Dominating her.

I'd touched her lips. They were so soft! So lush and tender. So silky. So perfect for kissing, nibbling, and penetrating.

I had to stop thinking this way. I had to let go.

>Ding, Dong<

Holy shit! Was she back? Why would she come back?

What the hell did I care? She was back. The 'why' could be filed in the back of my brain with everything else while I threw her over my shoulder and hauled her back to the closet to finish what I'd started. And this time, there would be no one to stop me.

I flung open the door far too eagerly, and nearly lost my cheap lunch when I was faced with a menacing Joe.

Fuck!

"What the hell are you doing here?" I asked, irritated.

"I could ask you the same thing," Joe replied as he elbowed his way past the door.

I glared at him as he looked this way and that, searching for some sign of why I had run out of the office without explanation.

"What the fuck Curt? I want to know what the hell is going on. Talk. Now."

"Jesus, you think you can just demand it and I will bend over for you like everyone else?" I scoffed. "You've only been gone two weeks, and it seems you've forgotten that your interrogation techniques don't work with me."

"Don't test me," Joe threatened.

Several moments passed in silence, the air rapt with tension and testosterone. Shaking his head, he sighed.

"Curt come on. What is it? You're my best friend, and all of the sudden you're acting like..."

"Like you?" I chided.

It was Joe's turn to glare.

"Yeah, like me. So that's it then? You've met the one."

"The one," I laughed. "Joe, how you have changed. The one. I never thought I'd hear those words from you in that sentimental weepy eyed fashion."

"Cut the shit Curt. You can't charm your way out of this one."

"Leave it alone Joe. I need some time is all."

But Joe wasn't done. I could see it in his eyes. He was gonna poke the fucking lion with a sharp fucking stick.

"Wow," Joe smirked. "She must be something else. Talented? Pretty? Sexually inventive? The whole nine, huh? What's her name?"

"Fuck you Joe," I spat. "You want to play hardball? Fine. Tell me, how is Kate doing? Is she still in love with you? Or has she finally come to her senses?"

I very nearly regretted my words. Ah fuck it, I regretted them. And then some. The combination of pain, anger, and emotional turmoil I saw in Joe as my words sunk in...it killed me. I was a fucking idiot. I was a fucking idiot, and a lousy ass friend.

"We meet with the Ruiz family tonight at their estate. Seven o'clock."

Joe turned sharply and saw himself to the door.

"Joe," I tried.

"Seven."

The door closed with a resounding click behind him. Fuck.

-----

To be continued...