Not Safe for Work(67)

“You’re welcome.”

I left her office and would’ve gone straight back to the NSFW Zone, but I still had one more task to take care of in person.

I took the elevator down to the parking garage. If I’d done the math correctly on the way down, everyone who’d attended the lunch meeting would be getting back right…about…

Sure enough, as I stepped out of the elevator, dress shoes were clicking on asphalt, echoing in the garage. Mitchell, Forsythe, Dion. And, of course, Rick.

I stepped aside, ostensibly to let them pass—God forbid clients have to rub elbows with working-class employees like me.

As Rick passed by, he met my gaze. I tilted my head toward the garage.

He glanced at the others and then halted, patted his pockets and looked over his shoulder. “Damn it. I left my wallet in the car.” He gestured toward the garage. “I’ll catch up with you. Conference room three, right?”

“Conference room three,” Forsythe said as they stepped into the elevator.

“All right. I’ll be there in a minute.”

His business partner gave him a sharp nod and a wave, and continued into the elevator with Mitchell and Forsythe.

Mitchell met my gaze and scowled, but before he could say anything, the doors shut. I cringed—I’d be hearing about this later.

Rick and I stepped away from the elevators and into the garage itself.

“Hey,” I said. “I won’t keep you long.”

He grinned. “You can keep me as long as you want.”

God, I wanted to kiss him. Resistance was f*cking painful.

I stepped closer but didn’t let myself touch him. “Just need to talk for a second.”

“Okay.” He paused, eyeing the ceiling. “Aren’t there cameras out here?”

“Yeah.” I gestured dismissively. “But they only look at them if someone’s car gets dented or broken into. If anybody asks, you wanted to know how to find Arturo’s.”

Rick shrugged. “Fair enough. What’s up?”

I sighed. “Unfortunately, I have to bail tonight. Overtime again.”

His shoulders sank. “Fuck.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” I smiled. “But…my boss did guarantee me this weekend off no matter what. She doesn’t want to see my face between Friday at five and Monday at eight.” Fighting the urge to reach for him, I lowered my voice. “Which means that starting at five o’clock on Friday—”

“I’m all yours,” he said in a hoarse whisper. “Please.”

Fuuuck, why couldn’t I kiss him right then?

I gulped. “Yes, you are.”

He licked his lips. “Didn’t you say that party is this weekend?”

“Yeah, but—”

“Let’s do it.”

I straightened. “Are you sure? I mean, I’d love to go to one, but it doesn’t have to be this weekend. They have them every—”

“No, let’s do it this weekend. Before I talk myself out of it.”

I studied him. “If you’re worried you will talk yourself—”

“No, no. Nothing like that.” He chuckled. “It’s kind of like the first time I went skydiving. Once I got the idea in my head, I had to do it the very next day, or I was never going to do it at all. And I never regretted it once.”

“Jumping out of a perfectly good airplane? That’s just crazy talk.”

“Maybe. But it was fun. This sounds like it could be fun too.”

“All right.” I slid my hands into my pockets because I was this close to reaching for him. “I’ll meet you at my place on Friday. Around eight. Wear something that looks good but you don’t mind getting ripped.”

Rick’s breath caught. “Ripped?”

“Yes. Ripped.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Duly noted.”

“Looking forward to it.”

We exchanged one last look, and then he went to his car—maybe he really had forgotten his wallet, or maybe he was just keeping up appearances or needed to walk around for a minute. I headed for the elevator, my heart pounding and my stomach fluttering.

In the elevator, I leaned against the wall and pushed out a breath. I felt a hell of a lot better now. Marie and I had smoothed things over. My overtime had a finite end. And this weekend, I’d have Rick in a building full of kinky people and toys. So many possibilities. So many.

I grinned to myself.

Can’t f*cking wait…





Chapter Twenty-Three As ordered, Rick showed up at my house right on time. I had just finished getting dressed myself—leather trousers, of course, and a leather vest.


I let him in, and as he stepped into the foyer, he paused. He glanced down at my thick-soled boots. “Leveling the playing field, are we?”

I shrugged. “Eh, you’ve still got an inch or so on me, but…” I put my hands on his hips and kissed him lightly. “I’ll take whatever advantage I can get.”

“Doesn’t matter that much, does it?” He slid his hands up my chest. “You’ll always be taller once I’m down on my knees.”

Oh. Jesus. Yes.

“You make a very good point.” I ran the backs of my fingers down the front of his white dress shirt. “Also, you know this is getting f*cked up before the end of the night, right?”