Joss was glad to see he was nervous, too. This wasn’t exactly a strol through the Nordstrom handbag department for her.
He tried the cal again and held up a finger. “Ringing.”
She nodded and he leaned forward. “Charlie—Oh.” He put his hand over the receiver. “Voicemail,” he whispered then said, “Charlie, it’s Rogan. I, ah, need to run a quick Brand O’Mal ey situation by you. I know the acquisition price has been agreed, but there’s a request on the table for sixty-three more in the form of a thirty-day loan. Give me your thoughts.” He hit the END button and smiled.
She crossed her arms, drawing in the flaps of her blouse closed. “We’ve got a problem.”
“What? I did it.”
The first hint of desperation had broken in his voice. Now she had him. “You forgot something. Your support.” Without Rogan’s enthusiastic endorsement of the plan, al Charlie had to do was say no. She began to button her blouse.
“Wait.”
She stopped and lifted her brow.
“The thing is,” he said, “it’s hard to be a cheerleader for something I don’t ful y support.”
“Oh, dear. I wouldn’t want anything to be hard for you.”
She came around the table, seated herself on the desk, and leaned back on her palms. The flaps slipped open wider and wider.
He inhaled and closed his eyes. “Does this plan include touch?”
She knew he didn’t mean the acquisition. “Um …” She swal owed. This was certainly way more than she’d bargained for. “Can you be more specific?”
He pursed his lips, considering. “Palms, fingers, knuckles, cheeks and lips.”
Oh. My. God.
“Palms, yes,” she said at last. “The rest, no.”
His cel started to vibrate, and he opened his eyes. “It’s Charlie. I have to tel you, I’m not feeling very enthusiastic.”
The phone buzzed, paused and buzzed again. He lifted his shoulders in a question.
“Palms and cheek,” she offered.
The third buzz, and then the fourth.
“Fine,” she said. “Palms, cheeks and a single kiss.”
“Nip,” he corrected, and picked up the phone. “Charlie, hi. You got my message?” He gestured for her to open her blouse even more. “It might inspire me,” he whispered.
“Yeah. It’s a short-term thing. Thirty days, paid in ful . How do I feel?” He lifted a brow in Joss’s direction and waited for her to remove more silk. “Wel , sales are improving.
There’ve been a couple very nice peaks today.” He gave her a broad smile. “And there’s a big order coming in—a very big one, in fact. So, overal , I’m feeling pretty good about it.”
Bingo.
“Al right. I’l give them the good word.” Rogan laid down his cel .
“Nice work,” Joss said. “But there’s no big order, my friend. Except in your head.”
“That’s not where it is, but I take your point.” He unfolded himself from the chair.
She braced herself.
He drew a finger from her bel y to her sternum and flicked the pearl.
She gasped. It was as if al the current in the room was being driven through that single digit.
He slipped the silk off her shoulders. It slid like a breath of air down her bare skin. He brought his hands to the clasp and released it, letting the fabric spread slowly, then traced the soft rise that began on each side of her col arbone.
She inhaled sharply.
“Nice,” he said.
“You bet your—”
He brushed the wire and lace aside, and Joss’s ability to speak vanished.
Dialysis, she reminded herself.
“Your breasts,” he said, “are magnificent.”
“Thank you.”
He stood up, spread apart her knees and inserted himself careful y between them. His suit was the finest Italian wool, but even Armani couldn’t have planned for the particular tailoring chal enge Rogan was facing.
Slowly, he placed his palms over the tip of her nipples, and moved them back and forth. Just the barest touch. Heat rose between her legs. Dialysis, she reminded herself.
Dialysis.
He brought her hands behind her again, palms on the desk. Her breasts poked skyward. He lowered his face to them and rubbed his bristled cheek across one nipple, then brushed the other. This, she thought nervously, is how you lose the Earth’s atmosphere.
He took the first gently in his teeth, and she arched against him involuntarily. If she wasn’t careful, that big order would be coming in just as he described.
“I want more,” he said.
“I’m getting that impression. There’s only one problem.”
She unwrapped her leg from behind him and returned it to a locked position across its mate. “We’ve finished the deal.
Which isn’t to say we might not play again sometime.”
Though she sincerely hoped not. Not this game, at least.
She reached for her bra and al
