Indecent Suggestion - By Elizabeth Bevarly Page 0,26
cup.”
“Well, why the hell not?” he demanded.
She bit the inside of her cheek. “Just a shot in the dark, but probably, it would be kind of uncomfortable to the wearer. Not to mention offer no support whatsoever.”
“Oh, and a scrap of lace lodged between your butt cheeks isn’t uncomfortable?” he countered. “Never mind supporting. Here’s a news flash for you, Becca. Women don’t wear stuff like this for comfort and support. They wear it because they want to turn on their guy.”
“Not always,” she said. “Some women like to wear frilly, girlie stuff under their clothes because it makes them feel sexier and more feminine.”
He eyed her thoughtfully. “You talk like you’re speaking from experience.”
Which, of course, he knew she was, having just glimpsed what she was wearing under her own business attire. He was just trying to bait her. Though why exactly he was trying to bait her, he wasn’t sure he wanted to think about.
She gritted her teeth, but said nothing more, only scooped up all the pieces of underwear and piled them into an untidy heap that she pushed to the side of her desk. “Okay, so then maybe we should look at the collection as a whole,” she conceded.
Turner did his best to stay focused on the matter at hand after that, but his gaze kept straying to the buttons on Becca’s blouse, and his mind kept straying to how much he wanted to reach across the desk and undo every last one of them, to get a better view—among other things—of what lay beneath.
Okay, so maybe that was why he had been baiting her….
Man, he had to do something about his preoccupation with Becca. Ever since the two of them had started working on this pitch for Bluestocking Lingerie, he’d been way too in tune to his feelings for her. Normally, he could ignore his attraction to her and be around her with fairly little discomfort. He’d gotten so used to his feelings for her over the years that he no longer had trouble dealing with them. He’d decided a long time ago that he’d rather pine incessantly for her than lose her completely. Eventually, it had just become second nature to him to want Becca and know he couldn’t have her.
But for the past few weeks, being faced every day with such incredibly sexy lingerie, and watching her fondle it, and fondling it himself, and thinking about how it would look on her, and how unbelievably erotic it would be to take it off of her… Being confronted on a daily basis with the intimate tools of a woman’s trade when it came to seducing a man… Turner had just been in a perpetual state of arousal, that was all. And Becca’s constant nearness had been almost too much for him to bear. There hadn’t been a single day in the past couple of weeks when he hadn’t succumbed at some point to fantasizing about being naked with her, cupping his hands over her bare ass, sucking on her ripe breasts, burying his head between her legs to run his tongue over and into the melting center of her….
Oh, God, not again….
He should just go out, find a willing woman and get laid, he told himself, not for the first time. That new redhead Englund had hired last month had made clear her interest in doing the horizontal boogaloo with him. What was her name again? he wondered. Linda? Laura? Louise? Lucy! That was it. Maybe Turner ought to try thinking about her instead of Becca when he started feeling randy. Hell, who knew? Maybe Lucy could make him forget all about Becca. And how those skimpy bras and panties would look on Becca. And how it would feel to have Becca’s smoky-stockinged legs braced on his shoulders while he rammed himself into her….
Oh, dammit. Here came the PowerPoint presentation of all of Becca’s parts again….
He rubbed his eyes wearily as he leaned back in his chair, trying to put thoughts of her out of his mind. “Man,” he muttered irascibly, “I can’t believe all the trouble we’re going to just to sell some stupid underwear.”
He dropped his hands back into his lap and surrendered to his urge to look at Becca. To his surprise, he found her gazing back at him with much interest, as if she were studying him in an effort to discover what made him tick.
“What?” he said, still sounding irascible. Still feeling irascible.