Page 16 of Factory Reset

Her eyes met mine, twinkling mischievously, then flashed down to my crotch before bouncing up again. I was immediately half hard.

“Just dinner?”

I gave her a hot look. “Maybe more. You’ve been driving me fudging crazy all week, Cassie. I can’t get those kisses out of my head.”

“I think you’re the one who’s driving me crazy,” she corrected. For an instant she looked vulnerable. “It’s not like me to obsess about a damn kiss, but I’ve never felt like this before.”

“Me neither, sweetheart.”

We shared another long look before she stepped back, putting some distance between us as if she knew how close I was to pushing her against that wall and sticking my tongue down her throat.

“What time should I come over?”

“Six-thirty okay?”

She nodded. “I’ll bring dessert. And some Gas-X for Bart.”

Cassandra

As I drove to George’s house I asked myself for the hundredth time if I was doing the right thing. It felt right, but I’d never done this before. Never mixed business and pleasure. Never slept with someone I worked with. Sure, I was only a consultant here, but it would still look bad for me if the higher ups found out that I was heading over to this man’s house with an overnight bag packed in my trunk.

You’re looking for a new job anyway, I reminded myself. The fact that lately all of the jobs I was applying for were around Houston was just a coincidence, right? It had nothing to do with the gentle giant I wanted to climb like a tree.

After we’d left the bar the other night, I’d practically thrown myself at George and he’d behaved like a perfect gentleman. Instead of taking advantage of my lowered inhibitions, he’d tucked me into bed, charged my phone, and left me some ibuprofen. I mean, who did that?

When I’d first met George, I’d assume he was kind of grumpy. He still had a tendency to argue with me and act like I needed a watcher, but now I knew that he was a total softie underneath his gruff exterior.

Working alongside him this week had been torture. Pure torture. I’d struggled to concentrate on my work, something that had never happened to me before.

Maybe you just need to work through that sexual tension, the voice in my head offered helpfully. If you sleep with him once, maybe you’ll get it out of your system. Then I remembered how that worked out in every romance I’d ever read – badly.

By the time I got to George’s house I’d decided we would just have dinner, maybe make out a little, and then I’d head back. This was a small town and despite how isolated George’s house was, no doubt people would probably notice if my car was at George’s instead of at my rental. I was pretty sure everyone in town already thought something was going on between us, and I didn’t want to give any more fuel to the gossip mill.

I just need to be calm and keep my distance, I reminded myself as I strode up the porch and lifted my hand to knock. The door opened before my fingers even connected with the wood. George stood there looking scrumptious in a pair of basketball shorts and a tight tee shirt, his dark hair damp.

I took one look at George and all my plans went out the window. I flew towards him, and he met me halfway, our mouths connecting in a frenzied kiss. We moved into the house, then George pushed the door closed behind us and pressed me against the door with his big body.

My hands slid beneath his tee shirt, exploring his abdomen before moving upwards. George broke the kiss, reaching behind his head to pull his shirt off, and holy mother of perfect physiques, his torso was a work of art. You’d never know that the man had just turned forty, not when you saw the ridges of his abs and the strong muscles of his chest and arms.

While I was ogling his chest George was busy unbuttoning my shirt, sliding it off my shoulders before he reached around to release the clasp of my bra. He made a choking sound as he bared my breasts, and I hoped it meant that he liked what he saw. I had my answer when he leaned over to lick one nipple and then the other. I gasped, arching my back to get closer to him.

Woof!

We pulled apart, startled by the deep bark next to us. I looked down to see Bart’s mournful eyes staring up at us. Unable to resist that sad little face, I pressed one hand to George’s chest, pushing him back so I could squat down and scratch Bart on the top of the head.

“There you are, sweetie pie. Who’s my boy?” I cooed. “Who’s my handsome boy?”

I used both hands to rub his long ears from end to end and Bart closed his eyes in ecstasy, thumping his tail loudly against the hardwood floor.

“Oh, I see how it is,” George grumbled good naturedly. “You like my dog better than me.”

I looked up and grinned. “At least until he starts farting.”

Bart lumbered away and I pushed back to my feet, giving George my best seductive smile.

“Now where were we?”

“We should get dressed so we can eat dinner.”