Kiss A Ginger Day: A steamy workplace romantic comedy

Chapter 6

Despite what he said at the restaurant, Theodore didn’t believe in cosmic signs, fate, or soul mate rubbish. What he believed was that a certain part of his anatomy would explode before the end of the day if he didn’t handle it. He’d prefer Alice did the handling, but he was beginning to see she was a woman of convictions.

He’d had his share of one-night stands, but they were all consensual, and that would never change. With Alice, however, they’d agreed to wait, so wait he would.

Then why were they standing outside her apartment door staring at one another, neither making the move to separate? He should go back to his rented apartment or Edison. She should get on with her weekend. But truth be told, neither of them felt like going back to work at 3:30 p.m. on a Friday.

Finally, she hitched a thumb toward her door. “This is me.”

“I know.”

“I don’t believe in signs, by the way,” she blurted, then captured her bottom lip between her teeth.

“Me, either.” Though he’d given a little lecture on the car trip over about how it was uncanny the waitress brought up Pie Day. She’d agreed. Then they’d been silent as if both internally wrestling with the idea of waiting. He knew he was. Five months without those lips again? His cock might actually fall off for the number of times it’d gotten semi-hard only to be deflated that day.

“You going back to work?” he asked.

She slowly shook her head. “No. In fact, maybe I should take off more weekends.”

A smile raised his cheeks. It made him happy to know she was watching out for herself.

She got out her keys. “Have a great weekend.”

She was dismissing him. “Maybe.” A petulant childlike tone laced his voice. Bloody great. His cock must be speaking.

She tilted her head. “No plans? No interviews?”

“No.”

“No, of course not. It’s late on a Friday.” Her bottom lip would be bruised to hell in minutes by the way her teeth kept grasping it. It made him want to reach out, cup her face, rescue it. Then devour her mouth with his own.

“Technically, I don’t start until Monday.”

Her chin jutted upward. “Oh? But our interview …”

“Was pure pleasure.” He wasn’t lying. He now had a good direction to go in for his employee interviews come Monday. She couldn’t be the only one to see things were awry at Edison.

“So, you’re not really starting until next week?” She leaned back against her front door, putting her hands behind her to cushion her back. It only made her breasts jut forward. If he didn’t know better, he’d think she was trying to seduce him. Except she didn’t need to try at all.

He scrubbed his hair as if that might bring blood back to his brain so he could think. It was hard to do around Alice, looking so delectable with glistening lips. “Didn’t have any interviews set up for today. Except what we did at the restaurant, of course.”

“We haven’t had ours yet. Officially. It wasn’t in the office.” She rolled her lips between her teeth—again.

God, he needed to kiss her. “Okay, we’ll have a do-over next week. When I’m officially?—”

“Official?”

“Yes. Consider today an introduction day. The contract says I begin on Monday.”

“Oh. That …”

“Changes things?” Even though getting romantically involved with another staff member was usually frowned upon by the owners of Edison, he couldn’t help but yearn for a loophole in that unwritten company policy at that moment. Any thought about what he could lose—respect and maybe rank with his bosses—faded to black. Something about Alice had gripped him, and it wasn’t letting go easily.

“It could. I mean …” She pushed off her sexy lean. “If we’d just met?—”

“A boy and girl?—”

“Running into one another by happenstance.”

“In a snowstorm.”

Her eyes warmed. “What would you have done if we had met that way?”

“I’d have asked you out. Maybe carried you if it snowed too much.”

“You’ve already done that.”

And God, he wanted to do it again. “Ah, but I didn’t get to walk you to your door. Give you a proper, chaste kiss. Pray to the almighty you’d want to see me again.”

She laughed a little at that.

He obliterated the last bit of space between them. “Would you have let me?”

“Kiss me? You’ve already done that, too.”

“But not at the front door.”

She threw her arms around him and mashed her body against him. Her lips sealed over his. Ffyc, she truly was spectacular at the kissing thing.

When she broke the lip lock, her lashes fluttered as if she’d surprised herself. “Was it any different?”

“Better.” It was true. Every time she kissed him, it got better.

She tried to remove her arms, but he grabbed them and made her stay. “You don’t believe in signs, but you believe in technicalities?”

She nodded. “Details matter. Especially around work, except we’re not?—”

“Working together yet. We’re free to do what we want.” Because really, hang what people thought. There was no legally binding or written policy they were breaking.

A slow smile crept across her face. He didn’t know what else to do except bend his head to capture her lips again. His aching cock found the space between her legs where he would stay all weekend if she’d let him. His mind couldn’t figure out how their fit happened, except Alice had semi-climbed up on him. Or maybe he’d lifted her up. His hands now clutched her bottom, holding her against him.

Who cared how they’d connected their bodies together like two interlocking puzzle pieces? His hands, his mouth, were full of her. And she clung to him with a physical desperation he’d never quite experienced. It egged him on.

“Keys,” he growled into her mouth. They had to get inside, or nailing her against the wall in her apartment building’s hallway was a genuine possibility. He’d never in his life needed to be inside a woman like her before.

Wrenching herself free, she twisted toward her door. His body stayed pressed against hers, his breath coming out in puffs against her hair as he nibbled on her neck. It made her keep missing the keyhole opening.

Finally, before he could take over, it slipped inside with a metallic rip. She got the door open, and he pushed her inside. She spun back into his arms, and he lifted her up so his cock could get back to its new favorite spot—right between her legs.

“We only do this during this weekend. That’s it,” she said into his mouth, killing his buzz immediately.

He put some distance between his face and her devil-blessed lips. “Oh? Using me for my body?”

“Mind?” She smiled up at him, and all thoughts of consequences cleared like smoke after a spring rain.

His hands were back on her, cupping her face. “Well, given this weekend has Make Your Dreams Come True Day …” he began.

A little giggle erupted from her throat. “What else does it have?”

“National Hot Pastrami Sandwich Day and Take a Missionary to Lunch Day.”

“Missionary is my least favorite.”

There was no mistaking her meaning. As for her declaration, they only had the weekend, and then it was back to business? He could do it. Their pull to one another was real—and if a technicality meant they could act on it and have her still feel good about it, who was he to disagree? The ball was in her court. She’d picked it up. He could play the game and see where it led. Risk be damned. “What’s your favorite position?”

“All the others.”

He ran a finger over his lips. “Could take all weekend.”

“Well, I normally work on the weekends. But since I’m not CFO … yet.” She took two steps backward and dropped her coat to the floor. “You have something better to do?”

“Better than making your dreams come true? I live for it.”

“Or I make yours …”

The woman had confidence. It was an incredible turn-on.

He stalked forward, and she backed up the short hallway to her bedroom, where she kicked off her shoes and unbuttoned her shirt. “No work. No business talk this weekend.”

“Agreed.”

Alice was committed to her career, yes. But she also deserved to have a life. So far, from what he’d seen, she spent too much of it working. He traveled alone enough to realize connecting with people was far more important than a job—even if he sucked at the work-life balance himself.

He followed her lead, first draping his jacket across the back of an old wingback chair. Then, he yanked his tie free from his neck.

He, too, deserved something good when it was presented. He stalked forward.

* * *

The zing of Theodore’s tie through his collar sent a cascade of sensation up Alice’s legs, which had begun to quake.

Just inside her bedroom door, he stopped, leaving their faces mere inches apart.

His presence filled up the room, stealing all the oxygen. “You feel this, don’t you?” His fingers circled her wrist, bringing her hand up to his chest, where he placed her palm against his heart. “What’s between us?”

Alice nodded. Their chemistry was undeniable, and seeing if their pull to one another was real sooner than later was a good data point, right? Why wait months only to realize their attraction was an illusion? A big can’t-have thing that grew and grew, only to disappoint once unleashed. Better to find out now.

And, a woman reserved the right to change her mind, right?

Plus, the only way she would fulfill her New Year’s resolution was to do things differently than before. For once, she wouldn’t spend the weekend staring at spreadsheets. And she was ready to take control—of one hot ginger.

Good self-pep talk, Alice.

Still, her logical side rose up. “Promise me this won’t have anything to do with my job at Edison.” She pulled her hand free and backed farther into her dark bedroom. The blinds were still pulled down, but it wouldn’t have mattered. It may be only 4:30 p.m., but winter’s early darkness was descending outside already.

He closed the distance between them again and cupped her face. “Your job evaluation will be based solely on your work performance. It will have nothing to do with what happens here.” He brushed hair off her face, the tender move a dichotomy to the talk of work. Or maybe it was because his hands kept touching her, caressing her like stoking a low-burning fire.

He set his forehead against her. “Trust me.”

“Everyone says that.”

“But I mean it.” His eyes blazed. “Did you know from the first time I saw you across that bar you got me hard?” His fingers played with the back of her neck.

Jesus. For a man who’d memorized made-up holidays like National Bobblehead Day and Museum Selfie Day, he knew how to turn the goofball off—and turn on the seduction.

She snuck a peek down at his crotch. Theodore Gaston the Fourth would be … What in bed? She really wanted to know. So far, he had the touching thing down pat.

“I like your hands,” she said.

“They like you.” It didn’t take long for him to have her backed up against her bed, where the sheets were still in a tangled mess from the night before.

His gaze dropped to her breasts, now free of the blouse. Thank God, she’d worn one of her laciest bras. That morning, hungover and in a hurry to get to work, she’d grabbed one from the back of the drawer because all her everyday ones were in the laundry.

“Now”—his hands drifted down her arms and to her back. He released her bra, which slipped down between them—“let me appreciate your assets.”

His hands moved to her breasts. Keeping his gaze on her face, he cupped them, thumbing her nipples. She sucked in a breath. One little move had her entire body ready, willing, and able to have him do whatever he wanted.

She reached for his belt buckle, earning a half smile from him. After shedding the rest of their clothes, he pressed himself against her, his lips dusting across hers. She fell back on the bed, and he immediately covered her. His mouth fell to her breast, and he tenderly sucked on one nipple, then moved to the next. “Mmm, assets, indeed.”

While he feasted on her, she ran her fingers through his red-gold hair, soft and silky. He had good hair. Patty would be proud; though no way would she let her friend near his head. My, how easily she’d begun to feel possessive of him.

His gaze flicked up for one second. “January 2. National Breast Appreciation Day. As if I’d wait for that day to come around again after tasting”—his gaze again dropped—“these.”

She giggled.

He moved up her clavicle, nibbling his way up to her ear. “Alice. Touch me.” He leaned on one elbow, grabbed her hand, and brought it down to his … Sweet Jesus on high. Her fingers curled around him. She was about to have the greatest sex of her life, wasn’t she?

He let out a long hiss as her fingers moved. “So, all the positions?”

She nodded, speech abandoning her.

“Then hang on.” He circled his arm around her back, rolled, and pulled her on top of him. His cock was now trapped between her belly and him. “I rather love this one. Gives me access to your”—his hands cupped her breasts again—“spectacular assets.”

Rising, she straddled him. “No more talking.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Bossy.”

“Needy.”

His eyes darkened, his jaw tensing. “Even better.”

He rolled over, reached for his trousers, and found a condom. He had it on in a second, which was good because her mind might have spun in all directions that he was so prepared.

When he turned back to her, the quip on her tongue about what a good boy scout he must’ve been, died. The blue in his eyes burned with desire.

She kicked off her panties and scrambled back onto him, earning herself a low rumble from his chest.

He grasped her hips and positioned her, and she sunk down on him. All the air in her lungs escaped, and a satisfying moan came from his throat.

“Ffyc, you’re so hot and tight.”

He was big, and she could feel him fill every inch inside her body. She pitched her hips forward, seeking the best spot. His torso contracted, and he grunted. She did it again. And again. And every time, his nostrils flared; his lids dropped.

He grasped her rib cage, pulled her down toward him so their faces were inches apart. “I need your mouth when you ride me.”

So, she obliged. Kissed him hard and deep as her hips circled and pitched into him until they panted like animals in heat. His tongue kept sliding into her mouth just at the right time, and she sucked on it. Needing more. Always more.

She usually wasn’t a rough and tumble girl, but with Theodore, she wanted to devour him—and have him do the same to her. Any thought of what they were doing, what they should do or not do was as distant as China.

The slap of flesh and moans filled the room, and she was sure her bed was moving so much she was destroying the wall behind it. As if that would make her stop.

He moved from kissing her mouth to her breasts and back to her mouth again so many times; her entire body was on fire—a bonfire.

“Alice,” he hissed. “Clench hard around my cock. That’s right, baby. So damned good.” So much for the cliched British uptight mannerisms.

But she did it. Again and again, she gripped him with her insides. Each time, he responded. She could grow addicted to that—the power that came from making a man come undone.

Just the thought of it created new sensations, and she was suddenly coming—hard. As she was touching down, she felt him twitch inside her, his own release on its heels.

She fell to his chest, lying there as his rib cage expanded with each lungful of air, making her rise and fall on him.

After his breath steadied, his arms wrapped around her. He murmured into her hair, “You’re an animal in bed, Alice Crawford.”

A burst of giggles … She didn’t know why she found that funny. Her laughter couldn’t be stopped, however. Her? An animal?

She lifted her head to stare at him. “Oh, yeah, I’m an insatiable sex pot.”

“Lucky me.” He put one of his arms behind his head. His hair was a tousled mess and adorable. His hand reached out, and he ran his fingers across her chin. “You got some ’stache rash from my beard.”

She ran her palm over his significant five o’clock shadow. It looked good on him. Like a rugged highlander. Like a Jamie Fraser. “Worth it.”

“Wait till it’s all over your thighs. Then it’ll be worth it.” He rolled her off him, settled onto his side. “How much time do you need?”

She blinked. “Time?”

His fingers drifted down her bare hip, dipped in between her legs. “Just getting started, love.”

Theodore Gaston the Fourth was a god.