Caught on Camera. Tawny Weber
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the irritated look on her face, those stalker shots, computer-generated abominations that they were bound to be, were the closest he was going to get.
“Is this an invitation to go with you?” he asked, reining in his fantasies and handing her the black leather bag.
“I’m sorry I threw it,” she murmured. “You startled me. I guess I’m a little edgier than I thought.”
Reece glanced at the door. He remembered her earlier offer to hide. “Edgy enough to run off?”
“I wasn’t going anywhere,” she said quickly. “I was checking my messages.” Interesting that she’d instantly honed in on his suspicion. “Is this how you handle security for your clients? By sneaking up and hounding them?”
“Hounding? C’mon, sweetheart. You and I both know I might sneak under your skin from time to time—” his appreciative gaze trailed a caress over that skin, just like his fingers itched to do “—but I’ve never hounded you. You’re just a little jumpy.”
With good reason, he was about to say. But her sneer stopped him. God, if he wasn’t already crazy about her, that look alone would have sent him over the edge. Pure sexual challenge, the curl of her glistening red lips made him crave a taste of the soft flesh.
“I’m only edgy when some huge, irritating guy follows me around for no reason.”
“So you remember me as huge, huh?” he asked with a wicked grin, referencing aloud for the first time their little encounter at Mitch’s resort. Up-against-the-wall, no-holds-barred sex that had kept him awake many a night since.
Her luscious lower lip fell, just a little, as she stared, speechless. Heat, fast and intense, flashed in her blue eyes. The look, brief though it was, assured him that nothing about their closet encounter had slipped her mind. And, thank God, the swift glance she slid to his zipper guaranteed those moans of pleasure he’d tortured himself with nightly had been the real deal.
“A huge pain in my butt, yes,” she said, as if she wasn’t looking at him as though she’d like to take his zipper down with her teeth.
How the hell did she do that? More to the point, why the hell did she do it? The attraction between them was right there, so obvious she had to see it. But would she acknowledge it? No. Deal with it? Hell, no.
She was driving him nuts.
Screw caution.
Furious, although he couldn’t pinpoint exactly why, Reece strode forward. Two steps was all he needed to bring him close enough to feel her quickening breath against his chest. To see her pupils dilate. Whether her reaction was one of fury or the desire she denied, he didn’t care. Any response other than disdain would do at this point.
All he cared about was tasting her. Proving to himself that his memories were real.
Before she could snap out whatever snippy thing was burning on the tip of her tongue, he grabbed her shoulders. Pulling her close, he grinned down into her shocked face.
“Didn’t your momma ever warn you about riling a horny bull, sweetheart?”
Then he took her mouth. Under different circumstances, with a different woman, he’d have gone the gentlemanly route and coaxed the passion from her. With Sierra, he met power with power. He didn’t wait for an invitation. Instead he welcomed himself into the wet heat of her mouth with a swift thrust of his tongue.
She slapped her hands onto his chest as if to push him away. But one stroke, then two, of his tongue and her hands clenched his pecs instead, fingers curling and uncurling like a kneading cat.
Her purr of pleasure sent him from turned-on to rock-hard instantly. Tongues twined, lips meshed as he gave over to the heady flash of power. Their kiss was a smooth dance, intense and sexual.
His hands slid from her shoulders, down her arms, and he entwined his fingers in hers. Needing more, he pressed her forward until her back was to the wall, trapping her between the wainscoting and his body.
Their kiss, already hot, went into overdrive. She sucked his tongue into the silky depths of her mouth, the movement mimicking a blow job of epic proportions.
Reece groaned in desperate pleasure at the image. His dick, already rock-hard, strained painfully at the teasing reminder of what it wasn’t getting.
He took her hand, still linked with his, and slid it down his body. When he pressed it to his zipper, she gasped. Then her fingers clenched the rigid denim. She spread her fingers wide, moaning when they didn’t cover the length of him.
“Sierra?”
They both heard Belle call from the other room at the same time. Reece had to force himself to pull back. To resist the urge to grab her and drag her to the nearest room, where he could shut and lock the door. His breath coming fast, he met Sierra’s eyes.
Passion and something else blurred the blue depths. Then, with a flick of her long black lashes, it was gone. She gave his throbbing dick a soft pat, then withdrew her fingers. Her raised brow indicated she wanted loose.
Stepping away, Reece obliged.
“Sometimes huge is a good thing,” he said softly as she walked back toward the kitchen.
“And sometimes,” she said just as softly over her shoulder, “it just gets in the way.”
Chapter Three
SIERRA TUCKED a stray hair into her low ponytail and smoothed her palm over the stark white skirt of her poplin shirtdress. To keep the look from being too sweet, she’d paired the simple dress with red accessories and a killer pair of red leather heels. A fashionable yet unthreatening look that she hoped would put CEO Corinne Perkins and the rest of the uptight and upright Family powers-that-be at ease.
The elevator dinged her floor and she gripped her laptop case tighter as she joined the crowd pouring out. A glance at her watch assured her she was ten minutes early for the meeting. She’d intended to be twenty, but had been distracted by another photo delivery. This one had come with a note, too.
I’m Watching You.
Those three words had freaked her out. Even now, it was all she could do not to hide in the pseudo safety of the elevator.
Someone was serious about messing with her. And while she’d followed Belle’s mandate and furiously pored over their client list, noting every competitor or employee she’d ever pissed off, Sierra didn’t think they’d find the answer there.
Whoever was behind this was after her. Specifically. Not the company. It was too personal, too nasty to be anything else. And while she’d like to think she was woman enough to make a lasting impression on her past lovers, none of them were behind this. If they were, she reasoned, they’d know enough to make the pictures more realistic. They’d add in the mole on her hip, for instance.
As she forced herself out of the elevator, she fought back the biting grip of terror that had taken hold after the messages started arriving. The derogatory attacks on her worth, the slams on her sexuality. The ever-so-familiar insults that she hadn’t heard since she’d left her aunt and uncle’s home.
Anger and fear tangled together in her gut, but she ordered herself to shove them aside. Calling on all her control, she sucked in a deep breath and decided she could worry about it later. Her priority right now was nailing all the particulars of this account, and she’d be damned if she was going to let some pervert ruin it. Belle was counting on her. And more important, her own dreams were riding on it.
After that little pep talk and a few deep breaths, she greeted the HTT Publications receptionist and followed the conservative blonde into the boardroom. Belle and their favorite photographer were already there. Sierra was glad to see they were the only ones in the starkly modern room. She needed a few more minutes to shore up her composure.
“Sierra, great timing. You can tell Tristan what you think of his new look.” Belle gestured with wide eyes