Author: Cee Smith
Series: Just This Once #2
Release Date: November 23, 2015
Genre: Contemporary Romance, Erotic Romance
More Info: Goodreads
Purchase: Amazon US
Purchase: Amazon UK
Purchase: Amazon CA
Working at a law firm comes with its own set of rules, and Blaire has broken rule number one. Consorting with the opposition could get her fired. In the blink of an eye, all of her hopes, dreams, goals, and aspirations could be dismissed.
She knows this.
Joel, EJ—whoever he is—is the enemy. Persona non grata. Her mind is aware of his standing. But her body? Not so much. It remembers every moment shared. Every flirty smile and witty comeback. Every whispered word with carefully placed hands.
Falling into bed with him was easy. Getting him to stay away will be the hardest thing she’s ever faced.
Twenty minutes later, I was just settling into a groove of fact-checking when my desk phone rang.
“Don’t hang up.”
It was the voice I’d been missing for days, and the one I least expected to hear on the other end of my work phone.
“Are you crazy? Are you trying to get me fired?” My eyes swung around the room as if anyone walking by would know who I was speaking to just by how panicked my voice sounded. But I have to admit, it is nice to hear from him, especially after that impersonal card he left. I banished those thoughts as Joel stammered on with words that flitted through my ears like bees whipping through a garden. I should have hung up. I shouldn’t have cared why he was calling or what he had to say. They could be tracing this call. At the time, I didn’t really know who they were, but it was enough to snap my mind into thinking straight—something that was obviously hard to do when it came to Joel. It seemed I only needed to hear his voice for my brain to check out, flipping the closed sign to alert all other thoughts that my brain would no longer be servicing them for the time being.
“I’ll call you back. Let me call you right back.” My words rushed out over his. I hung up, ignoring the frantic sound of his voice and his desperation to keep me on the phone. His words were gibberish in my tunnel vision to hang up. I breathed a sigh of relief that I was able to actually cut ties with him, and also because I hadn’t been caught with my hand in the cookie jar.
I stared at the phone log on my receiver for minutes while I thought about calling him back. If I didn’t call him back, I was sure he’d just hit redial. Whatever he had to say, I was going to hear it, one way or another. So I figured I’d get it over with and call him; at least there was a fail-safe in place. If I didn’t like where the conversation was going, I could just say I had to go for some work emergency or another, and he would be none-the-wiser.
My feet danced against the marble floor beneath my chair, releasing the nervous energy like raindrops beating against metal roofs. The phone only rang once before he answered.
“What do you want, Joel?” I whispered his name before continuing at my normal level, “I thought I was pretty clear that we had nothing left to say.”
“I don’t want to get you in any trouble, but I wanted to hear your voice. You don’t miss me?” The desperate plea I’d heard only moments before had been replaced with a voice I was used to, familiar with. One that whispered words between my thighs late at night. Just thinking about that voice stirred up a different kind of desperation.
An exhausted breath left my lips, but I didn’t get a chance to respond before he was cutting me off again.
“You don’t really need to answer that. I know the truth. Did you get my flowers?”
Blaire didn’t know much about one-night stands, but she knew how they’re supposed to go. A night where inhibitions are thrown out, no names, no attachments, and in the morning you both go your separate ways, never to speak again. At least that’s what was supposed to happen.
Mother nature had other plans.
She established boundaries: No details, no more sex. But Joel was never much for following the rules. With a body built for sex and an appetite to match, one night with him would never be enough. Torn between the case that could make her legal career and a man who thinks of clothes as optional, how long could she stick to the rules?