The New Guy

She gasped, but he swallowed whatever she was going to say as he pressed his mouth more firmly, teasing her lips open with his tongue so he could dive into the heat of her. He groaned as he got his first taste. Champagne. And those bloody rainbows. Far sweeter than he’d thought, yet even more intoxicating. Desire ripped through him and he dropped a hand to her back, then lower, to the curve of her buttocks, pressing her against the part of him that ached and throbbed.

Mind fogged with lust, he continued to drive them both crazy right there, on the pavement, until a shrill wolf whistle and the unsubtle cry of ‘get a room’ broke his stride just enough for sanity to return. Breathing heavily, he eased back. ‘How’s your mood now?’ he asked hoarsely.

Her lips, swollen from his kisses, broke into a grin. ‘Back on track.’

‘Good. Let’s get to your place before I balls this up again.’

Dimly he noticed they were headed to the posh end of town. The opposite direction to the way he’d come. He’d had to get on a tube for a few stops in order to find a pub he was reasonably confident he wouldn’t get stabbed in. Just when he was about to ask how much further – her heels looked hell to walk in – she turned off the high street and into a smart side road where a cluster of elegant Georgian townhouses surrounded a small green.

She halted outside the second house. ‘I’m, umm, in this one.’

‘Nice.’

‘Yes.’ He knew her nerves had reappeared when she wouldn’t look him in the eye. ‘You’re not like an axe murderer or anything, are you?’

He made a play of opening his jacket and looking in the inside pocket. ‘No axe today.’

Her smile looked strained. ‘Sorry, you can probably tell, I’m not used to doing this.’

‘Sex?’

It got the smile he’d hoped for. ‘Sex I can manage. It’s bringing a guy I don’t know back to mine that’s giving me the heebie-jeebies.’

Yet again, he felt the evening slipping away from him. ‘If it helps, I’m no expert at this either.’

‘You’re not?’

He wasn’t sure whether to be pleased or insulted at her obvious surprise. ‘You couldn’t tell from my smooth pick-up line?’ Because he didn’t want to dwell on that again, he added, ‘We can always go back to mine, instead.’ Though he shuddered at the thought.

‘The shithole?’

‘Yeah. Bed’s comfy.’ He’d made sure of it. Renting a furnished dive was bad enough. He wasn’t going to sleep on a mattress that rats had partied on.

‘No, we’re good here.’

She shifted from foot to foot and he knew, despite her words, she was still debating. He reached into his jeans pocket and drew out his wallet. ‘Would it help if I told you my name and address? Showed you some ID?’

‘No.’ She pushed his hand away, all that shiny red hair bouncing around her shoulders as she shook her head. ‘I kind of like that we don’t know each other.’

‘You got a sex-with-a-stranger kink going on?’ He didn’t mind that. Didn’t mind it at all.

‘I don’t think so. More recovering from a shitty breakup and not ready to date but I miss sex.’

Reassured, he clasped her hand. ‘Then let’s get you laid.’

She laughed softly. ‘Not exactly Mr Romantic, are you?’

He watched as she opened the heavy black door and stepped into the hallway. ‘Thought you wanted a one-night stand?’

She glanced up at him beneath her lashes. ‘I do.’

Placing his hands beneath her buttocks he lifted her and marched them to the nearest wall. There he pushed her against it, settling his hips between her legs. His arousal against her core. ‘Then who needs romance?’ He asked roughly, before plundering her mouth.

Her legs – he had a flash of bunched skirt and long, shapely leg – wrapped around him, sending further jolts of heat through him. As he continued to kiss her, he pushed the jacket off her shoulders and started to undo the buttons of her blouse. Christ, if he wasn’t careful, he wouldn’t even get to her bedroom. Panting like a dog on heat, he drew back and let her legs slide slowly back to the ground. ‘What floor are you on?’

‘Third.’ At least she looked and sounded as turned on as he did.

‘Okay then.’ Three flights of stairs. Nothing to a man who worked out like he did, yet right now it felt like he had to climb Everest.

But then he looked at her flushed cheeks, her glittering blue eyes. The rise and fall of a pair of glorious lace-covered breasts, now partly exposed by his wandering hands. Climbing Everest was a small price to pay for spending the night with this woman.

Chapter 3

The nerves that had been successfully wiped out by his kiss returned as Sam opened the front door to her flat. She was being rash, sure, but women did this all the time. She just had to trust her instinct.

Her stomach fluttered as the nerves bedded in. There’d been a time when she wouldn’t have hesitated. A time when she’d known for sure she could judge a man’s character.

‘You okay?’

She turned to find her guest filling the doorway, his expression showing a hint of concern. Downstairs they’d been about to rip each other’s clothes off. Now she was considering putting on the brakes, even though she’d already made the decision to let him in.

She sighed, hanging her jacket on the peg in the hallway. She didn’t want it to be like this, all cautious and fearful. She wanted passion. A wild night when she could forget everything. And if the kiss downstairs was anything to go by, the pair of them had so much sexual chemistry, passion was as good as guaranteed. Providing she could get past these jitters.

He shifted on his feet. ‘Look, maybe this was a bad idea.’

Oh no. She wasn’t letting go of her plan that easily. She didn’t do wussing out. Straightening her shoulders, she tugged his hand, pulling him inside. Then shut the door behind him with a deliberate shove.

The action caused him to raise an eyebrow. ‘Or maybe it’s not.’

‘It’s not.’ She focused not on what she didn’t know about him, but what she did. He’d made sure she wasn’t drunk. He’d offered to show her his ID. Even now, he was giving her an out. They weren’t the actions of a man she needed to be afraid of. ‘Just tell me what we do now.’ As the words played back to her, she started to laugh. ‘I mean, I know we need to get naked at some point, but do you want a drink first?’

His mouth quirked. ‘I thought we’d done that at the pub.’

‘Yes, we have, sorry. I told you, I don’t usually do this sort of thing. I’m not sure of the rules.’

‘Don’t apologise.’ He cupped her face in a surprisingly gentle gesture. ‘This is just you and me, Champagne Lady. There are no rules.’

She watched as his mouth lowered towards hers; sensuous lips, surrounded by very male stubble. Her heart kicked up a gear. What was it about him that had made her act so out of character tonight? Or was it the circumstances, more than the man? Would she have invited any half-decent-looking guy back with her tonight? Those lips touched hers and she moaned as a dozen fireworks exploded, shooting heat through her blood.

No. It was this man she wanted tonight. Before he reduced her to a puddle of hormones again, she pushed on his chest, and wow, that was one hell of a wall of muscle. ‘We should head for the bedroom.’

‘If you like.’ His expression said he didn’t care where it happened, as long as it did.

And now the fluttering in her stomach was excitement, not nerves.

She started to lead the way when she came to an abrupt halt. ‘Can you carry me?’ At his puzzled look, she laughed, a teeny bit self-conscious. ‘“The hot stranger carried her to the bedroom.”’ She bit into her lip, aware she was making a fool of herself yet also uncaring, because she wasn’t going to see him again. The beauty of sex with a stranger. ‘Sounds better than “They walked to the bedroom”.’

He let out a low laugh and it looked good on him. Softened the edges of his rather blunt masculinity. ‘Are you writing a dirty book?’

‘Only in my head.’

Suddenly her feet were lifted off the floor, but rather than being swept into his arms, as she’d envisioned, she was thrown over his shoulder in a fireman’s lift. The absurdity of it got to her and she started to giggle, thumping on his back as he walked down the hallway, opening the door to the bathroom and the storage cupboard before he found one with a bed in it. ‘This one yours?’

‘Yes!’ she squeaked as he threw her – okay, it wasn’t hard, but still, he threw her – onto the bed. Blowing her hair out of her eyes, she stared up at him. ‘Not quite what I’d imagined.’

‘No? Your book doesn’t feature hunky firemen?’

It was because he said it with a straight face, she realised. Most men grinned when they used humour, but with this guy, it took a moment to realise he was joking.

But then he was climbing onto the bed, leaning over her, staring into her eyes, and all humour fled. His amusement might be hard to read but his arousal, his need, burned so bright she felt the searing intensity of it all the way to her toes. ‘This is the part where we get naked.’

‘Right.’ She swallowed, her stomach performing a series of frantic somersaults. ‘You first.’

‘Oh no. Ladies first.’ Lying alongside her, resting his weight on his left arm, he used his right to slowly undo the remaining buttons on her blouse. ‘Nice.’

Not the most eloquent compliment she’d ever had, but it was the look of wonder on his face that made it seem better than any flowery phrase he could have given her.

Wordlessly he slipped his hand behind her and flicked open the snap of her bra, tugging it off. ‘Very nice.’

She smiled, stopping him as he began to undo her skirt. ‘My turn.’ Her hands trembled slightly as she undid the buttons of his shirt.

‘Nervous?’ She shook her head. ‘Good.’

Excitement licked at her insides as she revealed the muscled expanse of his chest; the dusting of dark hair that covered his pecs, trailing erotically down past his navel and into the waistband of his jeans. Thrilled, she ran her hands across the ridges and planes of his stomach, feeling a throb of exquisite arousal as he let out a guttural groan.

‘You’re nicely packaged,’ she whispered.

He let out a strangled-sounding laugh. ‘Thanks.’

‘Go on, do that again.’

‘What?’

‘Laugh. You’re really sexy when you laugh.’

He hissed in a breath as her fingers reached for the button of his jeans. ‘I’m sexy and nicely packaged,’ he repeated hoarsely. ‘You must be drunker than I thought.’ With that his hand clamped over hers. ‘My turn again.’

Ryan didn’t know how much longer he could keep it together. For a man who couldn’t remember the last time he’d had sex – and yeah, how humiliating was that? – having this sexy redhead in bed with him, her stupendous breasts now revealed, was almost too much. If she’d opened his fly, it could have been game over.

Summoning all his wavering control, he focused back on her. Off came the little black skirt, the natty white underwear and the sexy stockings that seemed to be able to hold themselves up all on their own. She had curves, he thought with satisfaction, and a pair of legs that were every bit as good as he’d imagined. He opened his mouth to say ‘nice’ again, then clamped it shut. He’d like to bet that word didn’t feature in any erotic book she had going on in her head.

Instead of talking he bent to kiss her calf, trailing his lips up to her hips, across the gentle curve of her stomach and then to those magnificent breasts.

When he’d had the satisfaction of turning her into a writhing, moaning, sexy-as-hell mess, he hastily shrugged off the rest of his clothes and settled over her. They both groaned at the contact of naked skin on naked skin, but as he reached to touch her breast again, he froze. ‘Hang on a minute.’

Condom. Damn and blast, did he have one in his wallet still? Leaping off the bed, he lunged for his jeans and started frantically searching through his wallet.

‘Everything okay?’ She was propped up on her elbows, looking over at him like a flame-haired temptress.

‘Yeah. Just, you know, protection.’ Smooth, Black. Really frigging smooth.

‘Ah. I guess that’s sexual fling 101.’

He knew it was meant as a joke, yet it made him feel stupid. How come he’d not thought of this until now? Just as his heart, and his libido, was in danger of sinking, he found a foil packet hidden behind the rarely used credit card. He almost blurted, ‘Eureka’ but stopped himself.

‘Sorry.’ He sorted himself out before easing back onto the bed, worried he might have totally ruined the moment.

‘Don’t be. At least you remembered.’ She grinned up at him. ‘Are we good to mate like bunnies now?’

There was a moment, a heartbeat, as he stared into her dancing eyes, that he felt a connection. Something beyond the sexual attraction. She was amused, not annoyed. Kind, not snippy. It made him regret there would only be tonight.

Then he shook the thought away. The last thing he needed was another complication in his life. Besides, she’d made it quite clear he wasn’t her type.

Still, he took a moment to brush the hair from her face. To gaze steadily into her eyes and give her a gentle, teasing kiss before thrusting into her.

Chest heaving, Ryan flopped back onto the bed. Christ, that wasn’t just sex. It was an out-of-body experience.

‘Holy shit.’

With the few remaining vestiges of strength he had left, he turned towards her. ‘Yeah. Ditto.’

‘We didn’t do too badly, for a pair of inexperienced one-night standers.’

He nodded, shifting his gaze up to the ceiling. She’s too chatty, he reminded himself, though he was kind of getting used to chatty.

The boundaries were very clear, though. Reluctantly he swung his legs off the bed. ‘Guess I should get going.’

‘You don’t have to.’

He stilled, looking over his shoulder at her. ‘Thought it was a one-time thing.’

Her hand clutched the sheet, pulling it up to hide her breasts. Her red hair was a messy riot, her cheeks flushed. She looked both sex goddess and innocent. ‘One night, I think we said.’ Her mouth curved into a sexy smile, notching up the siren.

With a shrug, as if he was cool either way, as if his body wasn’t already firing bolts of arousal back through his system, and his mind not already full of all the things he still wanted to do with her, Ryan shifted back into the bed. ‘Sure.’ He coughed to clear the hoarseness from his throat. ‘I can go with that.’

As dawn filtered through the shutters, he picked up the clothes he’d discarded round her bedroom and threw them on. A glance over to the bed confirmed she was still asleep. Ignoring the tug of disappointment, he picked up his jacket and crept out of the room. Better this way.

Last night he’d noticed nothing but her. This morning, as he walked back down the hallway, he checked out the place. Smart, upmarket. Much like she was. He’d like to bet rats didn’t party in her swanky kitchen or hang out on her vivid red velvet sofa, peeing on all the multicoloured cushions. Clearly, he hadn’t been wrong about the rainbow thing she had going on.

Whoever the hell she was, she had a lot more money than he did. It made him glad he’d escaped before she woke up. He’d like to bet she’d have a tonne of regrets – along with a humdinger of a headache – when she finally surfaced.

PART TWO

Chapter 4

As the sun shone through her curtains, Sam winced. Her mouth felt like sandpaper, her head like men with sharp tools were banging away inside it, trying to get out.

Serves her right for drinking so much. As for that saying about not getting a hangover from champagne, she could officially declare it bogus.

The events from last night began to trickle through her consciousness and she sat up with a start, frantically looking round the room. Relief washed through her as she noticed his clothes had gone. There would be no awkward morning conversation to taint the memory of what, she had to admit, had been a night of stupendous sex.

With a wistful sigh, she dropped her head back against the pillow. Would she do it again? Doubtful. Yet despite that, last night had been exactly what she’d needed. A few hours when the sadness of saying goodbye to her grandad, and the worries that seemed to be her constant companion these days, had been numbed by alcohol. And then obliterated by wild, fabulously hot sex with a total stranger.

Her eyes drifted to the bedside clock and she shrieked, then put her hand to her head as the men began banging with their tools even harder.

Three-quarters of an hour later she strolled into the foyer of Privacy Solutions. Five years ago it had been an idea conjured up by two bright-eyed undergraduates. Two years ago, the company had launched the Privacy app, a software solution that enabled users to identify websites storing information on them. It had catapulted them into the headlines, catching the imagination of the media and leading to sales that had outperformed their wildest predictions. It had meant moving the headquarters from a living room to the space it now occupied – the ground floor of a recently renovated old warehouse. Now the company employed fifteen full-time employees, several more contractors, and had an annual turnover of more than two million pounds.

But that was all in the past. Threats of a rival app, a superior app, meant things were about to get cut-throat.

‘Sam.’ Becky, marketing director and Sam’s best friend from school, ran over, burying her in a giant bear hug. ‘I’m so sorry about Grumps. How are you doing? How was the funeral? How’s your mum coping?’

Sam laughed as she tried to extricate herself. ‘I’ll tell you when you stop firing questions at me.’ Becky was one of life’s good people. Her hard shell – electric blue hair, pierced nose, leather skirt and heavy Doc Marten boots – hid a heart that was soft and surprisingly easy to bruise.

Becky took Sam’s hand and dragged her into a meeting room, pushing her unceremoniously onto a chair. ‘Talk to me.’

Because she knew Becky was asking out of genuine concern – she was almost part of the family – Sam patiently answered all the questions before asking a critical one of her own. ‘This new software developer that’s joining us. You’re sure about him?’

Becky rolled eyes that were heavily defined with black eyeliner. ‘Too late now. He’s starting in’ – she glanced at the large man’s watch on her wrist – ‘forty minutes.’

‘But he interviewed okay? I know he must have, or you wouldn’t have hired him, but reassure me the man doesn’t have two heads.’ It was the first recruitment Sam hadn’t handled personally, and it felt uncomfortable.

‘One head. Kind of good-looking too, if you like your man on the macho side.’

‘Which I don’t.’ Her ex had been classically handsome. Considering what a shit he’d turned out to be though, maybe it was time to change type.

‘Me neither, but some women go for it.’ Becky liked them lean, artistic and tortured. Men she could try and fix, like the bartender-come-wannabe-drummer she was currently dating. ‘Aside from being macho and unimpressed that I was interviewing him instead of you, he was fine. He didn’t smile much, actually scratch that, he didn’t smile at all, but Hank had warned me he was a bit on the dour side.’ Hank was Becky’s brother, and he also happened to be the man who’d suggested the guy to them.

‘Remind me again how he lost his job? He was fired for what, exactly?’

‘Officially for refusing to toe the company line. Unofficially, Hank said he point-blank refused to work on the next project they assigned him.’

‘Because?’ Becky loved to tease. To draw out a story. Probably because she knew it drove Sam crazy.

Becky grinned. ‘Because he believed it was morally wrong. It was some sort of gambling app. According to Hank, he went apeshit, said he didn’t agree with the concept and he wasn’t having anything to do with it.’

Sam winced. Not that she didn’t admire the guy’s stance, but there were better, more constructive ways to say no than going apeshit. ‘Well, I hope your Hank’s right about him being a genius, because he sounds like a handful to work with.’

‘Chill. He’s on a three-month probation, so we can kick him out if he’s a nightmare. Hank did say he’s the best he’s ever worked with though, and considering Hank always told me he thought he was the best, that’s saying something.’

They needed the best, Sam thought grimly. For eighteen months, the development team had been working on an update to the Privacy app and getting nowhere. Now it was crunch time. Sam couldn’t be sure, but best guess was they had three months to get the modified app out before their rival hit the markets. And by rival, read bitter enemy. And by crunch time, read if they failed, the company was finished, investors lost their money. Everyone lost their jobs.

The heartburn that had begun a month ago flared again, leaving a sharp, burning pain in her chest. Automatically she reached for the antacids in her bag. As she chewed on one, both of their phones buzzed with an identical message.

Becky got to hers first. ‘Well, look at that. Our new employee may lack people skills, but you can’t fault his timekeeping. That’s Kerry to say he’s arrived and is sitting in reception.’

Kerry was their sweet, slightly ditzy office manager. She’d been with them eighteen months and what she lacked in common sense, she made up for in her sunny, happy-to-do-anything-asked-of-her nature. Of course, her predecessor had been very accommodating too. In fact, she’d bent over backwards to help, literally. As Sam could testify.

Grimly she shook the unhelpful thought away. ‘Great. Let’s go and meet him.’

As they stood, Becky gave her a stern look. ‘Don’t think I haven’t noticed you’ve turned into a Rennies addict. You need to decrease your stress levels.’

Sam gave her what she hoped was a bright smile. ‘Worry not. That’s exactly what Ryan Black is here to do.’

They walked together towards the reception, a funky space with modern black leather sofas, steel desk and original brickwork. As her eyes glanced towards the man sitting down, Sam careered to a halt, her stress levels going through the roof. This had to be some sort of joke. The guy slouched on the sofa, wearing dark-blue jeans, a familiar brown leather jacket and even more familiar scowl, couldn’t be the guy she’d just hired.

Could he?

‘That’s …’ Adrenaline, mixed with dread, had turned her voice scratchy so she tried again. ‘That’s Ryan Black?’

Becky looked at her oddly. ‘Yes. Why, do you know him?’

I know the sounds he makes when he’s having sex. The expression on his face when he comes. Shit, shit, shit. ‘I might have had a one-night stand last night with a guy I met in the bar. And he might have looked exactly like the guy sitting over there.’

Becky’s heavy black eyebrows shot into her blue hairline. ‘Holy shit. There’s so much I need to ask you right now.’

‘Later.’ Sam’s heart was beating so erratically, she thought she might faint. ‘For now, you need to focus on telling me how to play this. Pretend I can’t remember any of it? Laugh it off, like I often hire men I’ve had sleazy one-night stands with?’ Hysteria threatened as she felt a totally inappropriate desire to laugh. For the love of God, how was she supposed to look him in the eye, to command his respect, knowing he’d seen her naked only a few hours ago. And knowing she’d picked him up.

She wasn’t meant to see this guy ever again. Yet by some cruel twist of fate here he was, sitting large as life in the Privacy Solutions foyer.

Ryan Black chose that moment to look up. And catch her eye.

For fuck’s sake. Ryan blinked and sat bolt upright. No, he hadn’t dozed off into some weird fantasy land. Drunk girl from the bar was walking towards him. Taking in a deep breath, he ignored the queasy feeling in his stomach and told himself it wasn’t as bad as it seemed. Sure, it was never ideal to work in the same company as a woman you’d had a drunken one-night stand with but hey, they’d had a good time. At least he had. Hell, she’d asked him to stay for more when he’d been about to leave, so she can’t have hated it. Regretted it, probably, but that was on her. He’d been very careful to make sure it had been her choice.