Erin McCarthy - Bad Boys Online

He was waiting for the whole thing to blow. The button to fly off, the blouse to slide up, her creamy navel skin bared to him all while she tottered on heels at his mercy.

Then he would take the spot previously reserved for the cello and ease her skirt up.

Jared calculated how much money was left in his checking account and gave himself up for lost.

Candy hoped like heck she knew what she was doing. Jared looked as if he could chew up nails and tie them into bows with his tongue. She couldn't tell if he was turned on, furious, or both.

And what had possessed her to run on at the mouth about her mother and stepfather? Not that she had an ounce of experience in having casual affairs, but she had to assume you didn't start them out by talking about your family.

Give her another five minutes and she'd be whipping out photos of last Christmas and her cat wearing a Santa hat.

She finished stretching, her legs stiff from bending over the desk, and chewed her lip as she thought over her next move. This shouldn't be so doggone hard. She'd been flirting since the cradle, as her mother frequently liked to remind her. But now when she needed it, all she could think to do was smile, which was lame and appeared to have no impact on Jared whatsoever.

It must be nerves. After all, there was a lot more at stake here than getting good restaurant service. Before she left this office today, she wanted a date with Jared. A date that would end up with them naked and Jared turning that intense concentration squarely on her.

Time to take a deep breath and turn up the heat.

"What's the next question?" Jared said, shrugging out of his suit jacket.

Oh, Lord, he had broad shoulders. She didn't think she'd ever seen him without his jacket on, and it was a sight worth lingering over. She lingered so long he raised an eyebrow.

"The question?"

The quiz. Right. With elephantine effort, she turned around and tried to focus on the computer screen, her cheeks burning.

Jared was turning up the heat, and he didn't even know it.

After quickly typing in their responses to birth place, she went on to three. "Question three. Describe the moment you met."

That was easy. Jared had strolled into the office one Monday morning back in January and she had known lickety split that he would be the one to pull her out of the sexual deep freeze she'd been in since her divorce. He had been wearing a black suit with a burgundy shirt and tie, and he had looked at her, scanned her, and moved on. Dismissed. Dissed.

He had never once deviated in his behavior since.

Jared said nothing. Candy kept her eyes on the screen.

"I guess I'll just type in that we met at work."

"Fine."

Her fingers trembled as she typed, and she blew her hair out of her eyes, ignoring the disappointment she felt. Dang, what did she expect? Jared to say his eyes had met hers over the length of the meeting room table and it had been fate?

There was no doubt in her mind he could not even pinpoint the first time he had seen her.

Jared was desperate. They hadn't even gotten to the hard questions yet and he was in danger of barking and drooling.

The first time he had seen Candy was branded into his mind. He had walked into Stratford Marketing and had gone into the meeting room for an eight A.M. appointment with Harold.

Candy had been there, wearing a cherry red turtleneck sweater that matched her lips. Her blond hair had been pulled back into a twist of some kind and she had on a knee-length white wool skirt and boots. He had felt as if he were staring at a life-sized peppermint, all white and shiny and sweet.

The sight had stunned him, giving him a spontaneous and mortifying erection, and had left his brain and body sizzling like a pound of bacon.

He'd gotten the hell out of that meeting room and thus had started the past eight weeks of dodging her like a bullet. She wouldn't kill him, but she'd send him back to the unemployment lines.

"Next question." He crossed his leg, widely, to accommodate for the throb in his pants, and picked a nice spot on Harold's desk to study. There was a picture of a couple of pre-teen kids. Gangly. Little Harolds with hair.

"We're cooking now," she said with a perky little smile. "We're already up to question four."

Just what he did not need. She was acting cute. It had been better when she'd been talking about her family. That had at least made her seem real, a live human being with feelings and obviously someone he could not just tangle in Harold's office with and walk away with no regrets or recriminations. But when she did this… this bent-over, smiling thing, he forgot everything, including his own name.

"What's the matter?" She sat down in the chair next to him, and pulled the laptop closer to the edge of the desk. "You're scowling and I haven't even read the question yet."

He glanced at his watch. "It doesn't feel like we're accomplishing anything. I think we need to skip a few questions or something."

With a little laugh, she let her fingers fall onto the back of his hand. Her fingers, for God's sake. On his skin. Touching him.

"What's your hurry?"

Now hold on. He turned in his chair, hoping the movement would knock her hand off his. It didn't.

He didn't like that tone in her voice. That let's-see-where-this-goes laugh.

"I thought we were in a hurry. You said you were before."

"Did I?" Her fingers squeezed his hand, her thumb sliding down around his, rubbing back and forth. "If I did then I've changed my mind. Sometimes slow is better than fast, don't you think?"

It was a struggle not to twitch. Or grab her and kiss the Southern smile out of her.

"Slow isn't better with Internet speeds. Or when you're driving on the highway. Or waiting for a paycheck."

Her head tilted. There was a gleam in her eye he just didn't trust.

"But slow is better when you're savoring a good meal. Or taking a stroll by the lake. Or making love."

Ah, hell. He'd been really, really afraid she would say something like that. Jared went perfectly still, concerned that any sort of movement, of any muscle in his body, might be misinterpreted as an invitation.

He said slowly, carefully, neither smiling nor frowning, "But we aren't doing any of those things."

Candy pulled her hand back. He was not reassured by the action since it was accompanied by her leaning way forward and undoing that loyal button on her jacket.

Those wonderful full lips parted with a little moist sound and she said, "We're not doing any of them… yet."

Jared swallowed. Hard. Instinct told him to ignore the comment, to change the subject, to spill a cup of coffee on Harold's computer and get out while he still could.

That's not what he did, of course. He had to know. Just had to. "Are you interested in doing any of those things?"

Candy had him. She had done it. She had gotten a reaction from Jared, and it was a very positive one, if the flare to his nostrils was any indication.

"I'm interested in one or two. How about you?"

He nodded. "A walk by the lake sounds nice."

She sat straight up. Was he serious? "It's March and forty degrees outside! One strong wind and we would be coated in icy lake water."

"It was your idea. And I wasn't aware we were talking about doing any of those things together."

His posture didn't change and his expression was the same neutral gaze, unblinking and in control. It took all she had not to just get up and crawl out of Harold's office in humiliation. But if she was any judge of men, which given her ex-husband was questionable at best, there was lust brewing in Jared's eyes.

Way in the back, but there nonetheless. Plus the nostril flare.

It was enough to keep her in her seat. "Well, I certainly wouldn't want to do any of those things alone. Would you?"