Chapter 2
“What are you doing here so late?” Summer blurted out way too sharply.
Had he heard anything? No, he couldn’t possibly have heard. Besides, she’d been done with the booty call for at least five minutes. Was it five minutes? More? Or less? Her heart raced, thrumming in her ears.
He leaned nonchalantly against the doorjamb. “I was just checking out how much the shipments were for the month,” he said in a lazy drawl, his mouth lifting in a half-smile. “Did the invoices go out?”
“Of course they went out,” she snapped, as if he were maligning her work—or her department.
She wasn’t usually so harsh, but he’d caught her off guard.
Especially after that booty call. She hadn’t expected anyone to be here, least of all Knox Turner.
He flustered her, and this wasn’t the first time.
He was too handsome, dark hair without a streak of gray, even though he had to be at least her age—forty-five, maybe a little younger, maybe a little older.
Prime cut. Long, dark lashes framed his warm maple-syrup eyes.
And he was tall; she was such a sucker for a tall man.
Everett, her ex-husband, was tall, but Knox Turner had a couple of inches on him—maybe six-four.
She’d never seen him without a shirt, but his body had to be ripped.
What bothered her most was that she’d just used him in her fantasy. God, had she actually said his name? Or just thought it? She couldn’t remember now. Please, please don’t let her have said it out loud. Not that he could have heard… right?
Her mind was a whirl as Knox sauntered into her office with lazy yet graceful movements, like a stalking jungle cat. Then he sprawled in a chair opposite her.
“I’m just anxious since it’s our first shipment of the test units.” He didn’t appear anxious—loose-limbed and comfortable in a chair that seemed too small for him.
Just breathe, Summer told herself. She’d been stupid. She should never have indulged Paul—or herself—not here at the office. At the very least, she should have closed the damn door.
She reverted to work mode. “I knew everyone would be interested in those shipments, so I copied them into their own folder.”
Though Knox seemed to think he had the run of the place—and he obviously had his own key card—he wasn’t a West Coast VP.
He worked for Silicon Valley Display Products, which everyone called SV Displays, a new partner company that had developed a revolutionary type of touchscreen for which West Coast provided the thin film.
This month they’d been shipping out test screens to customers interested in the new product.
Finn Rafferty and Ward Restin, the R&D gurus for the two companies, and Knox, too, would soon visit various customer facilities around the country, working out any bugs, which were hopefully few by now.
If everything went well, they could begin shipping the final product in a couple of months.
Since his company was technically West Coast’s customer, the actual manufacturing would take place at SV Displays’ facility. A joint venture between the two companies, West Coast coated the film and SV Displays installed it in their display screens.
She pulled up the invoices and turned the screen toward him. “These went out. All the packing slips are intact. But I think you should check up on shipping, not invoicing.”
He chuckled. “Not checking up—West Coast’s procedures are top-notch. I just like to follow the process flow.”
She almost snorted but held it back. She was usually professional, though she could be a bitch when absolutely necessary.
Knox Turner’s cocksure attitude always put her on edge.
It was as if he knew how attractive she found him, despite never letting her guard down.
Maybe he was just the kind of man who could sense a woman’s desire—even without flirting, simpering, or any outward move.
She wondered if he was married. He didn’t wear a ring. Was there an ex-wife out there?
“I’ve never had a venture go more smoothly than with West Coast,” he said. Despite his cockiness, there was a ring of truth to that.
“I’ll let Holt know you said so.”
He laughed softly—a sexy sound in the confines of her suddenly too-small office. She caught the subtle, magnetic scent of his aftershave.
“Believe me, I’ve told him many times.” He held her gaze. It was oddly unnerving, though she couldn’t pinpoint why. He wasn’t staring at her breasts or anything below her neck, yet his gaze still felt penetrating.
“And why are you working so late?” he asked. “None of your staff are here, yet you’re burning the midnight oil.”
She told the truth, even as she wondered why she was confessing. “I’ve only been here three months. I’m still wrapping my arms around the process.”
“You’re very dedicated.” His smile seemed genuine, appreciative—and there was a gleam in those dark maple eyes.
He slapped his hands on the arms of the chair and stood up.
Stretching his hand out, his wrist slid from beneath his suit sleeve as he glanced at his watch.
“It’s already late enough on a Friday night.
You should get out of here. I’m sure you have amazing plans for the weekend.
” He shook his sleeve back down and straightened his cuff.
The man was gorgeous in his business suit—every line perfectly tailored to his body.
Elegant. That was the best word to describe him.
She didn’t want to think of words with a sexual connotation.
And really, this close to him, in this weirdly too-small office, she shouldn’t think any words with sexual connotations.
She didn’t tell him that she had no weekend plans. “Enjoy your weekend too.”
“Oh, I will.” He smiled—a lady-killer smile she couldn’t allow to affect her. He turned toward the door, almost out, when, with one hand on the doorjamb, he pierced her with those beautiful brown eyes beneath his dark lashes.
“By the way,” he said, pausing just long enough to set her nerves jangling again, “I really enjoyed your story.”
She was a beautiful, sexy woman.
Of course, he’d noticed Summer Gentry—who wouldn’t?—but Knox hadn’t allowed himself to truly see her until now. Contrary to what everyone thought of him, he didn’t hit on women he worked with.
But he could now imagine curling her chestnut hair around his fingers as he gazed into her lapis-blue eyes turning hot with desire. He imagined her luscious lips wrapped around his cock, and her full breasts filling his hands.
The woman had him salivating.
It was the conversation he’d overheard that changed everything. And not just the words, but the silky-smooth voice she’d spoken them with. He would hear that voice in his dreams tonight. He would feel that delectable body in his arms, as if she were right there in his bed.
He hadn’t intended to eavesdrop, but when he heard those words about the sex poker players—She unzips him and takes his cock out.
And you and I just stare because he’s huge.
Then she goes down on him—well, hell, he couldn’t help himself.
And later, when she said his name? Christ, he’d fallen into her tale right along with her phone-fuck buddy. And gotten as hard as a steel rod.
Because sometimes he had a fantasy, a filthy fantasy. A man watching his wife suck another man’s cock, Knox’s cock. Then Knox would fuck her, drilling his cock deep inside her, making her scream with pleasure, making her come so hard she damn near fainted. All while her husband watched.
Her fantasy was his fantasy. And with it, she’d completely hooked him.
Summer Gentry. It was such a lyrical name for a woman he’d always considered businesslike and no-nonsense. But she had a naughty imagination he wanted to explore just as much as he wanted to explore her body.
Was she married? Living with someone? Was that a lover on the other end of the line?
Though she’d referred to the other party as her husband, he somehow thought that was part of the fantasy she wove.
She wore no wedding ring, and she hadn’t said a single word of endearment—not even at the end when she said goodbye.
No I love you, or I’ll see you when I get home.
Not even I can’t wait to see you and make love to you for real.
But now Summer Gentry was in his head.
And he couldn’t get her out.
Summer and her best friend Lee stopped for coffee after their strenuous Saturday morning workout.
Once or twice a month, depending on their busy schedules, they worked out together, then, of course, headed for coffee and a chat.
Finding a corner table in the busy coffeehouse, the rich scent of the brew filled the air.
People worked on their laptops, dads bought their kids hot chocolate, and with the music playing, conversations were loud enough to cover anything she and Lee talked about.
And Summer needed to talk.
She’d gone to university with Lee Nguyen, both of them business administration majors. Lee had concentrated in accounting, while Summer chose marketing. Lee had been her matron of honor and had gone to birthing classes with her.
While Summer had stayed home with the kids until they were both in middle school, Lee had chosen a different path.
Now CFO for a Silicon Valley startup, she and her husband Blaine had no children.
Instead, Lee doted on Summer’s girls as if she were their auntie.
And since Summer was an only child—she didn’t count her stepbrother because their parents hadn’t married until she and Aiden were in their teens—Lee was the sister of her heart.
“Another of life’s embarrassing moments,” Summer said with a sigh after the tell-all about her encounter with Knox Turner.