Foreplay with the Boss: Billionaires of Boston

2. Jameson

Ididn’t know what to make of the woman seated across from me. She wasn’t the type of woman that I usually went for, but since she’d stepped on the train, I hadn’t been able to take my eyes off her.

Actually, it was before that, when I’d seen her running for the train. I’d never seen anyone book it that fast in heels before, and twice I’d thought she was going to go down for sure. As someone who usually ducked his head and disregarded everyone else in favor of using the commuting time for work, I was hardly an expert on train-riding etiquette, but surely most decent human beings wouldn’t be so self-involved they’d ignore someone who was plastered against doors that could open any moment.

I’d watched in exasperation as the men just stood there and talked, ignoring her completely. She could’ve been seriously injured.

It shouldn’t bother me so much that she didn’t just raise her voice and tell them to move, but it did. I was of the “There is no try” philosophy. It’d gotten me where I was today.

On the train, across from a woman who had long sexy legs that I couldn’t stop imagining wrapping around my waist. And those breasts… So I wouldn’t be another jerk on the train, I worked to keep myself from blatantly ogling them, but they were fucking fantastic, pressing against the sheer fabric of her shirt like they refused to be fully contained.

Judging by her mussed, reddish-brown hair, someone else had beat me to playing out all the wicked thoughts flashing through my brain. Those waves looked like they’d been dragged against a pillow or mattress repeatedly.

I grabbed my computer and placed it on my lap, because I was starting to get turned on at the idea of being the one to press her to a mattress. To run my fingers through that tangle of hair and yank her head back as I pulled down that top, let her breasts free, and ran my tongue over them to see if they tasted as amazing as they looked.

Suddenly I hated the guy who’d mussed her hair this morning, which was completely irrational. I didn’t get jealous. I had convenient, no-strings “relationships” to release steam from time to time, but the only thing I was committed to was my company. With the big upcoming changes on the horizon, that was the way it would stay, too.

“Are you…?” The woman that had me thinking dirty thoughts at 7:20 on a Monday morning shook her head. “Never mind.”

“What?” Judging by the way she’d “tried” to ask those guys to move, I had a feeling that she started and stopped sentences a lot.

“You just looked angry, like you might kill someone, and then you switched to…I don’t know. Determined, I guess, which I hope isn’t determination to kill someone, which I know it most likely isn’t, and this is really coming out wrong. Basically I just wanted to make sure you were okay, but I’m sure you are, and that you’re probably busy…” She gestured to my laptop that’d been more out of necessity of my reaction to her than needing to work, even though I did like to make good use of my forty-minute commute. It gave me extra time to answer all the emails that’d piled up overnight so that once I arrived at the office I could get right to the present-day to-do list.

“I think I’ve gotten as much work done on my ride as I’m going to.” ThankstothefactthatIwanttostareatyouandimaginedirtyscenariosforalittlewhilelonger. I debated giving her my card, or getting her number. But she didn’t have the look of a hookup type of girl, and either of those moves seemed more like what someone who dated would do, and I had more than enough on my plate right now.

Ihavethatnewpersonstartingtoday,too,whichmeansI’mgoingtogetanevenlaterstarttomyday. Agreeing to let Stu Taylor’s daughter work for me over the next six weeks was probably one of the stupider things I’d agreed to, considering the direction I was about to take the company, but I couldn’t bring myself to say no when he’d called.

Whichisaweakness,andyoucan’taffordtobesoft,notnowthatyou’resoclose. I told myself the same thing I had since striking the arrangement. That it’d keep some goodwill between us, even after everything went down.

Of course, if I was going to have one of the people from the marketing division at the office, I would’ve preferred one of his strongest, not one who needed trained on how to be a boss.

Talkaboutafuckingwasteofmytime.

Instead of wasting more time regretting a decision I’d already made—one I’d stick to, because I gave my word, and honestly it was the least I could do for Stu—I turned my attention back to the woman batting big hazel-colored eyes at me. Fuck, even her makeup had the smeared look of someone who’d been laid this morning.

It’d been weeks on my end, and I had the irrational urge to prove to her that I could show her a better time. Whatareyougoingtodo?Shoveherintotheminisculebathroom,hikeupthatskirt,andtakeheragainstthewall?

I bit back a groan. No, quick and in a bathroom wasn’t my style, but that didn’t sound as bad of an idea as it was supposed to. I needed to redirect my thoughts.

I noticed she was wringing her hands, picking at non-existent threads, and that was the third time she’d switched her crossed legs—not that I was counting or thinking about throwing basic decency and social norms out the window, leaning forward, and running my hands up them to see if they were as smooth as they looked. “I’m Jameson, by the way,” I said, extending a hand.

“Kat.” She slowly extended her hand to me and I slipped it inside of mine and gave it a firm shake.

“Big day?”

She looked across at me, her chest rising and straining against that shirt before falling. “How’d you…?”

“Guess?” I finished, since she wasn’t apparently going to. “You look a little nervous.”

“Oh, that’s how I usually look,” she said with a self-deprecating laugh. “Probably because I’m always nervous. But I’m starting a new job today, and I want to make a good impression, so I’m nervous.”

Lucky bastards, whoever she was working for. They’d get to stare at her all day. Of course I couldn’t afford that distraction, and I’d never date an employee—that was just a shitstorm waiting to happen, and I had enough shitstorms to take care of on a daily basis.

She scooted forward and whispered, “I probably should’ve chosen the sensible shoes I first put on instead of these ones. I’m supposed to work on being more serious, but I just feel like life’s too short for boring shoes, you know?”

Twenty minutes ago, I wouldn’t know, but looking at the dangerous-looking heels on her feet, I now did. “You chose right. Those’ll definitely make an impression.”

“But maybe the wrong impression?”

I ran my fingers across my jaw like I was contemplating, then leaned down and lifted her foot a few inches. “I’m sticking with my original answer.” Without thinking, I brushed my thumb across the top of her foot. Her sharp intake of breath sent heat zinging through my veins.

There was something about this woman that made me want to do something I normally didn’t. I could call her sometime. Go to dinner. Take her home…You couldn’t always tell someone’s M.O. by just looking at them. Maybe she’d be fine with light and casual.

Maybe what she needed was someone to distract her from her nervousness and make her forget her name for a while.

The train lurched to a stop and she braced her hand on my knee when she slid forward. Then she quickly yanked it back. “Sorry.”

“Well, I touched your foot, so I think it’s only fair.”

“Yeah, and you picked up my tampons, so we kind of skipped normal-exchanges-with-a-stranger a while ago.” An adorable blush crept across her cheeks. “Can you forget that I said that? I’m having a problem with the filter between my brain and my mouth, and I don’t want to be remembered as the tampon girl. Which is why I keep freaking saying the word.”

Amusement rose up, and I shot her a smile. “I’ll forget that part. Touching me, though— that’s going to stay in my head for a while.”

Her mouth dropped open and she blushed again. God, the blush and the hint of innocence turned me on even more. Surely men flirted with her all the time, but she acted like she couldn’t believe I was doing it.

She licked her lips. “I…”

“Have a boyfriend?” I asked, assuming that was where she was going with this, and I didn’t want to care about the answer. I went after what I wanted, but I tried not to be a total asshole and go after women who were already taken. Although I might make an exception for Kat.

She looked at me like I might be crazy and then shook her head as a smile spread across her face. “No boyfriend. I just got into town, and my stay in Boston is temporary.”

Temporary.Music to my ears. Sure, I could call one of my usuals to scratch the itch taking over my body, but after my interaction with Kat, I worried no one else would cut it. I wanted to listen to her talk more. Wanted to see if she’d finish her sentences once she grew more comfortable. Of course, I also wanted to strip her naked and see if that blush traveled over her entire body. To leave her breathless enough that she wasn’t finishing her sentences for a whole other reason.

My stop was next, and I decided I needed to make this a done deal so I could clear my head of this woman and switch gears for the day. “I’m going to need your number so I can call you sometime.”

Her hand went to my knee when the train braked, and instead of pulling back, she used me to brace herself as we stopped. Then she glanced toward the door. “Crap, I don’t want to be late and have another fight with the door, but um, yeah. Call me sometime.”

“I’ll get it from you once I get you safely outside, then.” I slid my laptop in its bag, shouldered it, and took her hand. I had a feeling if I hadn’t cleared a pathway, she would’ve been the last off and end up in another fight with her purse and the train door. Once we were a few feet away from the door, I moved my hand to her back and then lifted my phone.

She rattled off her number, and I entered it into my cell. “Good luck with your job,” I said.

She grinned. “Thanks. At least the day started off good. After it was bad for a few minutes, but…anyway, you get my meaning.”

I nodded. My phone rang, bringing my time to indulge in Kat to a close—for now. With a wave, she darted off, and I answered my phone. Maybe if I put in even later hours than usual for a few days, I could clear enough time to take Kat to dinner.

And if things went well—and I’d make sure they would—back to my place.