Seducing The Boss (Pulse #2) - Mari Carr Page 0,4
take home for wild, kinky sex.”
Kellan’s cock woke up and took notice, going rock hard in record time. Tonight was the first time he’d ever considered what it would be like to take Sara to bed. Now that she’d said two of his favorite adjectives in the English language, he couldn’t think of anything else.
A gentleman would have put those desires in a vault, locked them up, and melted the key. After all, they were friends. She’d been the girl next door when they were growing up, and now she was an employee. Hooking up with Sara would be a bad idea.
Unfortunately, he had never mastered the art of being a gentleman, and it wasn’t uncommon for him to think with the wrong head.
He forced himself to concentrate on their conversation, to stop fixating on the word kinky. Or wild. Wild was a pretty distracting word, too.
“When was the last time you had sex, Sara?”
She gave him her standard disapproving glare. The one she seemed to have patented especially for him. “None of your business.”
Backing off wasn’t his strong suit. When he wanted information, he pushed, persuaded, or figured it out on his own. If she wouldn’t reply, he’d reason it out. “You and David split up, what? A year ago?”
Her lips were pursed, and a flash of anger lit her gaze.
It didn’t faze him. “Please tell me you’ve had sex since then.”
Sara’s continued silence and the slight flush of her cheeks told him what he needed to know.
“You haven’t fucked a guy since David?” The idea of not sleeping with someone for an entire year—Jesus, twelve months—was unfathomable.
She sighed. “Actually, David and I stopped having sex before we stopped being a couple. Timeline is probably closer to two years.”
His eyes widened as she rolled hers. David had stopped fucking her a year before the breakup? He reconsidered his previous opinion of her ex. The guy was a moron.
“You know, it’s not that incomprehensible, Kellan. The rest of the world isn’t like you. We don’t let our genitals drive our actions. Most of us need some sort of emotional connection to go with the physical one in order to enjoy sex.”
Kellan rubbed his chin thoughtfully. A seed was taking root. “But you were willing to throw that emotional shit out the window tonight, weren’t you?”
She didn’t respond for a moment, and then she nodded slowly. “Yeah. I was.”
“You need to get laid.”
“And like I said, that’s not going to happen here tonight.” She started to rise, but once more Kellan caught her by the wrist and held tight.
“Are you sure you’ve considered all your options?”
She shook off his grip, but maintained her seat. “What do you mean?”
Kellan gestured around the bar. “There are a lot of available men here.”
“Please tell me you’re not trying to hook me up with Josh.”
“You could do worse than Josh. But no, I think he’s already spoken for tonight.” Both of them watched as their friend stroked his hand along the blonde’s back.
“That’s right. He is. And so are most of the others. I’ve watched at least half a dozen guys walk up to other women and offer to buy them drinks.” Kellan could see her frustration was real. Otherwise, she would never have engaged in such a personal conversation with him.
“Well, yeah. But—”
“What’s wrong with me, Kell?”
He considered her question seriously. He’d known Sara Connelly his entire life. Had attended every single one of her childhood birthday parties until the year she had turned thirteen and opted for an all-girls slumber party. And he’d even crashed that one, making out with her best friend Elena until Sara’s parents caught them and sent him home.
Teasing her was part and parcel of their friendship. He gave her shit for being a stick-in-the-mud and too practical, and she returned the favor by calling him an immature playboy. The thing was, Sara’s work ethic was something he’d always admired and secretly emulated. And he suspected there were times when she followed his lead when it came to partying and cutting loose. They evened each other out. Always had.
The more the thought about it, the more he realized the men in this bar were a bunch of fucking idiots. “There’s nothing wrong with you. Not a damn thing.”
She studied his face carefully. He got a sense she was waiting for the punch line, for the other shoe to drop. When he let his statement stand, her brow creased.
“How much have you had to drink tonight?”
He chuckled. “Three beers in