Free Just One Night. Part 3 by Elle Casey Page B

rock-hard cock. Those are my silent answers, the callous, heartless, souless answers John Thomas thrusts to the fore of my mind. It’s not all I have to say on the matter, but it’s the most primal and strongest urge I have at the particular moment that is ruling my senses.
    The answer she hears, however, is much more civilized. Thankfully, my brain is still in control of my mouth. “Anywhere you like. Wherever you’re most comfortable. I can move the projector to suit you.”
    I’m trying not to sear her skin with my stares, but it’s nearly impossible to look anywhere but at her. She moves with a certain grace, a careless elegance that women around the world try to feign but most never get quite right. Her hair, thickly draped over her shoulder in soft waves, shifts to slide towards her chest. A curl nestles between her breasts for a moment before she flicks it away. A few pieces of hair stick to her skin, remaining there because her neck is moist. Could it be that she’s as nervous as I am?
    I walk over to the door and close it, turning the air temperature down while I'm there. Loosening my tie does very little to help my situation. Taking a seat across the table from her, I wait as she busies herself with whatever it is she’s brought in her attaché case.
    “I have a thumb drive in here somewhere.” She presses some hair behind her ear, but it falls right back down again to hang below her face as she leans over to stare farther into her belongings. I can see right down into her blouse from where I’m sitting.
    I close my eyes and breathe in slowly and carefully. Easy, man. Control yourself.
    “Is everything okay?” she asks.
    I open my lids to find her staring at me. “Quite all right, thank you for asking.”
    She continues to look in her bag and then grimaces as her movements cease. “I can’t believe I actually did that.”
    “Did what?” Could she be speaking of our tryst? I certainly hope not. She most definitely regrets the thing to which she’s referring, I can tell by her pained expression.
    “Left my thumb drive in my computer at home.”
    I blink a few times in relief. “Right. Well. You can do it from memory, I suppose.”
    “It’s too late for me to go get it and come back.” She looks as if she’s about to cry.
    I stand, suddenly nervous for her. All thoughts of her nakedness go out of my mind as I picture her dissolving in tears. Call rescue 911! Lady-tears on the horizon!
    “It’s perfectly fine,” I say in the most soothing voice I know. Then I shift into casual dismissal. “I hate those bloody Powerpoints, anyway. I consider it a blessing in disguise, really, that you’ve had the forethought to abandon your project at home. Just proceed without it.” I wave her on. “Go on, then. Let’s hear it.”
    She just stares at me.
    I fiddle with my tie. “What is it?” I look down at my chest, praying I don’t have a bit of chicken salad left there from my late lunch. With all the hacking and cracking Rachel and I were doing, I ended up eating in. Too bad her results were less than what I had hoped for. Still, all is not lost. Rachel, or rather, Miss Meechum, assures me she has a plan.
    “Nothing,” Jennifer says. “I just … you’re making me feel a lot less nervous.”
    I leave the tie and lower my hands to the table. “You’re nervous?”
    She smiles, and it’s as if the sun has come out for me to bask in its glory. She really is the most stunning creature.
    “Of course I’m nervous,” she says. “Wouldn’t you be?”
    I can see that she regrets the words the moment they leave her mouth. It’s a loaded question, there’s no doubt about that, but I’m not going to let her escape it. Now that I know she’s as affected as I am by the energy between us, I’m not going to allow the opportunity to connect with her again slip away.
    “Well, perhaps I would be, yes. Tell me, though, what exactly are you nervous about?”
    Her face turns a delightful shade of pink.