Fate? Do you like bald men?” His gaze drilled her.
He was sitting too damn close…
He was too damn sexy…
That leg was rubbing hers…
Her mind was shut down. Permanently. “Uh. I need a drink.” She searched the crowded room for the waiter.
Gabe flagged him down when he passed with a tray of frosty, foam-headed mugs of beer.
Yes, that’s exactly what she needed. A cold beer. Ice-cold, to douse the warmth spreading over her crotch. Just dumping the stuff onto her lap might take it down a degree or two.
“You didn’t answer the question,” Michael said, giving Fate a poke. When had he become so uncharacteristically friendly? He was stiff, reserved, a damn good assistant. Not teasing, flirting, like he was acting now. “I can’t stay away from them myself.”
“Bald men?” she asked, wondering if she’d missed something again.
“Yep. They drive me crazy.” He waggled his eyebrows.
Gay? Michael was gay? Why hadn’t she known that before?
“Well, for some reason, I don’t think that’ll convince Duncan he needs to dump the rug. Last I checked he was straight.”
Michael shrugged. “He’s not my type anyway. I like ‘em athletic.”
Me too. “I can’t say I go for the bald look. Guess it depends on the guy.” She shifted, and the vinyl seat made an obscene sound. Rpffffff. Gabe raised an eyebrow and smirked. “It wasn’t me. I mean it wasn’t what you thought,” she stammered.
Gabe smiled. “Sure, I believe you.”
“Oh! Can we get some work done? That’s why we’re here, isn’t it?”
The waiter set a tall lemon lager on the table, and she silently thanked him with a smile. She swallowed the icy liquid and felt the chill drift down to her stomach. Ah! Much better.
Gabe gave her a lopsided smile. A hand squeezed her knee.
So much for cooling off. More heat rocketed to her groin. Damn him! She crossed her legs and squeezed them closed against the tingle.
His fingertips traced circles on her knee. The circles moved slowly up, up, up until they reached the hem of her skirt, about midway up her thigh.
She chugged the rest of her beer then flagged down the waiter for another. Maybe a second one would do the job.
Gabe leaned forward, his chest and stomach resting against her back for one very long heartbeat. She felt herself leaning back into him.
This was not good!
He grabbed the new beer and took several gulps. She watched his throat work, and the lingering wetness glisten on his lips. She could lick that off.
“What about Single Temptation?” Michael said.
What were they talking about now? How had she lost track of the conversation?
“Single Temptation?” she repeated, trying to figure out what the hell they were discussing. There was a single temptation sitting next to her at the moment. One giant temptation…
“The new company’s name,” Gabe explained, licking a bit of foam from the corner of his mouth. “What you do think? Still too—uh, what did you say earlier? Racy?” There was another one of those wicked grins. He should be arrested for that! He was shamelessly propositioning her with his eyes. His gaze visibly drifted down her body then wandered back up to her face. “Is there something wrong with racy? Personally, I like it.”
She brushed his hand off her thigh. “Like what? The company name or things that are racy?”
He set that mischievous hand right back where it had been, even a little higher. “Both, course that may be because I’m a little racy myself.”
“I hadn’t noticed.” A smile pasted on her face for both men’s benefit, she pried Gabe’s hand from her leg and held it a safe distance away.
That was no better, especially when he tickled her palm with his thumb. She pushed, he pulled, she pushed again, he pulled.
Would he let her go, dammit?
He released her hand, and she sagged with relief.
Then he squeezed her thigh.
The man needed a straight jacket! And she needed another beer. Somehow that last one had disappeared, and
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley