Chapter Nine
“You wore that to work?” Finn cocked his head in disbelief.
Emanuela pressed the start button on her coffeemaker and turned around to lean against her kitchen counter. She had a slight frown on her face, eyeing him on her laptop screen. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”
He inhaled an audible breath, surveyed her form, and let it go slowly, pursing his lips. Her hair was up, her bangs side-swept and tucked behind diamond-studded ears. She wore a white, sleeveless dress that was tailored like a glove, with a thin black belt around her narrow waist. The high neckline drew attention to her defined collarbone and the graceful curve of her neck. He cursed under his breath.
“Nothing. You look beautiful.”
She giggled. “You’re jealous.”
Finn knew he was being stupid, but Emanuela was a beautiful woman and if she was walking around dressed like that every day, he was sure men were taking notice. They were able to be near her, maybe brushing her arm or catching her scent as she walked past.
“Of course I am,” he said. “You could just wear something uglier.”
Her laughter echoed in her kitchen. She brought her coffee cup to the bar counter and sat down to be face-to-face with him. “Not a chance.” She grinned at him over the rim of the cup. “Besides, I’m sure there’s no shortage of women parading themselves in front of you every day. Maybe I’m the one who should be jealous.”
Though she was teasing, he caught the pang of insecurity in her voice. They were still getting to know each other. They’d hardly spent two days in the same state, much less quality time alone together, so he would understand if their bond wasn’t strong enough to hold her to him. He would understand but it would still hurt.
“Yes, countless women are throwing themselves at me as I toil away in Simon’s garage,” he said.
“You know what I mean.”
He did know. Women often sent admiring glances his way or sat too close to him during his commute from Whidbey Island to Simon’s house in the city. Still, he wasn’t spending extended amounts of time collaborating on projects or having lunch with them. Or giving them cute little nicknames, which reminded him of something.
“So,” he said, hoping he sounded interested and not like he was prying. “What’s it like working for a guy like Philip Hurst? It’s hard to box him in. His investments are all over the map.”
“I understand. He’s very smart and actually quite selective about the projects we take on. It’s just that his choices have run the gamut, so people equate his unwillingness to limit himself to a single area to him being fickle. He doesn’t throw money at things just for the sake of making good on his investment. He picks things he really believes in.” She smiled. “And so do I.”
Finn examined her expression, the way her eyes radiated warmth whenever she spoke of her employer. He knew the story of how she got her start. He’d lost count of how many times he read her bio on the firm’s website.
“The two of you must be very close.” He studied her face. “I imagine you’re his most valued employee.”
“We’re friends. Working for him feels more like working with him and he doesn’t hover. I enjoy that. But,” she said, affecting a neutral expression, “all this talk of work isn’t really doing much for this tension I’ve had all day.”
His hair stood on end at her tone. “Really?”
“Really.” She took another deliberate sip of her coffee.
He cocked his head to the side a bit, wondering what she was on about. “What did you have in mind?”
She took another sip, but tentative this time, like she was gathering her wits about her before she lost her nerve. “Music is very therapeutic. It can do wonders for stress. And since you aren’t a fan of my outfit, I thought it’d be nice to put on something relaxing and get out of these restricting clothes.”
It took a moment for her words to fully register in his brain. His brows shot skyward and his jaw went slack. “Can we—can you do that? With the computer and everything?”
“Mmhmm.” She grinned and put down her cup. “Come on, I’ll show you.”
He sucked in a breath, watching her gather her laptop and adapter and walk backward, making sure that he could see her surroundings as she went. Her condo had the same understated elegance that she did. The open floor plan made it easy for him to see the wall of eight-foot windows in her living room, and the dusky skyline beyond. Her walls were stark white, set off by the vivid colors of her impressionist paintings.
“Nice place,” he said, quite smoothly considering his rapid pulse.
“Thanks.”
What he could see of her bedroom matched the elegance of the rest of the condo. The lighting was softer though, the walls awash in soft lavender with the same eight-foot windows along one wall. Emanuela set the laptop down on her bed, sitting the perfect distance from the screen so Finn could see her remove her jewelry. Her movements were slow and deliberate. She removed first one earring, then the other, and then her watch, placing each in a silver dish on her nightstand. Finally, she took off the dainty ring, pausing to flash a mischievous grin Finn’s way before sliding it off her finger and adding it to the dish with the others.
He was riveted, his eyes traveling the length of her. She giggled with nerves, and he thought he must look like a lion ready to pounce. Without a word, she got up, positioning the laptop to allow him an unobstructed view, and took her time turning around so that he could get an eye full of her back. She tossed a smoldering gaze over her shoulder, then strutted to her stereo, gliding the tips of her toes along the floor with each step. It had its intended effect, and Finn cursed softly.
She hit a button and the mordantly seductive sound of horn, strings and brush against drum saturated the room as Nina Simone’s “I Put A Spell On You” began to play. She milked the intro for everything it was worth, sashaying closer to the camera with one graceful stride on each second count, her hips swaying with each step. She removed her hairpins and, with a couple turns of her head and a tousle with her fingers, the soft, scented mass tumbled to her shoulders.
Finn was enthralled. Emanuela was positively feline, in fluid motion with the seductive strains of jazz pouring from her speakers. Her fingertips trailed upward along the sides of her body and ended in her lush curls. She flipped her hair and twisted, giving him a view of her side before she removed her belt in one svelte move, tossing it to the floor. She reached for her zipper—one quick tug to tease and then she pulled it down, the parting fabric revealing the smooth brown skin of her waist, inch by provocative inch.
With her chin still down, she raised her eyes and held his gaze for a few seconds. The image of her triggered his taste buds and he licked his lips. Nina’s expressive contralto and climactic scat blended with the stringed instruments, intensifying the effect of Emanuela’s strip tease on his senses. She exposed one, then the other of her silken shoulders, peeling her dress down to her waist.
She was driving him insane. Finn sat hostage to the sweetest visual stimulation he’d ever known, his hand unconsciously moving to his lap. His eyes and brain were full of her and the performance she was putting on just for him. She grabbed the fabric of her dress in her hands, sliding it up and down her hips a couple of times and then pushing it down, bending at her waist.
“Oh my God,” he groaned, drinking in the sight of her most intimate places covered in almost sheer black lace.
She stood up slowly, her back arched, and stepped out of her dress before turning around. His eyes dropped to her legs and rose at a lazy pace, taking in her calves, her plump little ass, the dimples above it, and the ample skin leading up to her shoulders. She made sure his eyes met hers before unhooking her bra and shrugging out of it. With a roll of her hips she faced him again, holding her bra in place with one arm.
He made eye contact with her, and his heart stopped its furious thudding. She moved her arm, a sinful smirk gracing her lips, and allowed the pretty scrap of lace to fall to the floor. His mouth was open, nearly drooling, his eyes caressing her topless form.
It had only been a minute or so, evident by the way the music grew in intensity, Nina’s vocals elevating to a sexy dual with an invigorated saxophone. Two minutes felt stretched to ten, like they were in a stunning trance the entire time. Emanuela drew closer and lifted her laptop to carry it into the bathroom, her taut tummy and the underside of her breasts filling Finn’s screen. She set her laptop on the vanity and sat down to be face-to-face with him. Another song began to play softly in the background.
“Emanuela,” Finn said, his voice strained with need for her, “I don’t think I can handle more of you like—that—and not be able to…” He gave her an apologetic smile.
She blushed. “I know. I thought we could help each other—here.”
She looked at him with wide, questioning eyes, and Finn groaned. He definitely caught her meaning. “You do miss me. Show me.”
****
The look Finn gave her sent a jolt of desire that went straight to her clit. She sighed and let her hand fall to slide beneath the elastic edge of her lace panties.
“Show me how much you miss me,” he said, rubbing himself.
His gruff voice sent another shiver down her spine. She moaned as her fingers glided through the trim curls of her mound and her swollen folds to brush her slick, taut clit. She couldn’t believe she was doing this. She never thought she’d have the nerve, and even now she fought to keep her eyes open because the intensity in his eyes made her feel like she’d combust.
She couldn’t look away. He was so beautiful and virally male, stroking himself and watching her come apart in front of him. He talked her through it, and she responded superbly to his voice, growing warmer with every word.
“Just imagine what we’re going to do the next time we see each other,” he said. “Show me how good it makes you feel.”
The carnal image of him behind her flooded her memory and she shuddered. She continued to slide her fingers against her clit, applying more pressure, her body trembling and tiny spasms shaking her thighs.
“Good, beautiful.” His voice sounded gruff and strained. “I’m thinking about how incredible it feels to be inside you and how soft your lips are on my ear.”
“Unh,” she cried.
He loved the special attention she gave his ears, and the memory of the husky sounds he made when her teeth grazed his lobes made her moan again. She couldn’t wait. She missed his touch too much for this to be a slow burn, and the sound of him pumping himself faster sent her that much closer. She tensed and her eyes slid shut against the first wave of ecstasy. Her clit swelled against her rapid fingers and then sharp pleasure pushed her chest forward, her back arching as she hummed her release. She heard him growl low in his throat and pried her eyes open to watch, the final tremors leaving her body.
His eyes were on her too, and moments after she crumbled before him, his brow creased and he gritted his teeth. His body jerked forward and he shuddered over and over before his face relaxed again. They grinned at each other and Finn moved to clean himself up.
“Wow.” She reached for her robe. “That was a revelation.”
“Amazing. I didn’t know we were this comfortable with each other yet.”
“I’ve never done this before—not like this. But I trust you.”
“I trust you too.”
They were like teenagers in that moment, gaping at each other and delighting in their growing feelings.
“I like that dress, by the way,” she said with an indignant pout. “It’s getting warmer here and white is one of my favorite colors to wear in hot weather.”
He chuckled. “I liked it too. I didn’t like that it looked so damn good on you, and I can’t see what you wear every day.”
“The only reason you saw it today is because I had to stay late at work so I could make a conference call to one of our manufacturers in China. Their offices don’t open until seven their time, so I stayed until seven tonight and didn’t get home until after eight.”
“Oh, I hadn’t realized. You must be exhausted.”
“I am but this was worth it,” she said, waggling her brows.
They shared a laugh, just one among many over the next hour before Emanuela prepared for bed. She was finally unable to stifle her yawns any longer, and Finn chided her softly. “Go to sleep, Emanuela. We can talk more tomorrow.”
She loved how he said her full name. People close to her called her “Em,” but something about the way he said it, with a reverence in his deep tone, made her feel so beautiful.
“Goodnight, Finn.”
“Goodnight.” She fell asleep with a smile on her face.
****
“What’s with the stupid grin?” Allie eyed Emanuela as the latter completed her order to the waiter.
“What? I don’t have a stupid grin.” Emanuela’s smile grew wider.
“Okay, see? There! That stupid grin. What gives?”
The beautiful redhead’s expression turned to one of absolute determination, a look Emanuela knew very well. Shit, Emanuela thought. “Nothing,” she said, smoothly. “I’ve just been having a really good day.”
She could temper her expression very well too, something Allie knew well enough to see that Emanuela was lying through her pretty white teeth.
“Uh-huh,” Allie said. “Fine, don’t tell me. But fix your face. You look goofy—and beautiful. What is that?” She indicated Emanuela’s belted seafoam wrap dress with a swirl of her salad fork.
Emanuela dug into her salad, famished at the midday hour. She was a bit late for their lunch date. She had to make some last-minute changes to the non-disclosure agreement she drew up for the new manufacturers they contracted for Finn and Simon’s smart limbs. She arrived at their favorite restaurant in SOHO a little after two.
“Donna Karan,” she said, devouring another forkful.
“You should gift that to me for my birthday,” Allie said, completely serious. “Green looks amazing on my complexion.”
Emanuela threw her a disbelieving look. “No way. You make enough to buy a million of these. I’m keeping this one.”
Allie shrugged, then reached for a pretty pale blue box and set it in the center of the table. “Here, I brought your favorite canelés.”
“Yes!” Emanuela reached for the box with childlike giddiness.
Lifting the lid, she peered inside and smiled at the six beautiful French pastries, their glistening, caramelized crusts beckoning her to try one. They smelled even better than they looked.
Allie shook her head with a laugh. “You do that every time, and every time it’s the same.”
“I never know with you. I could open that box one day and lose some fingers.”
“Not my style.” Allie checked out Emanuela’s plate with hungry eyes. “Oohh, that looks divine!”
It did look divine. The nori-crusted tuna had just the right amount of sear on the outside, and was presented on a bed of garlic rice and broccolini. Emanuela’s stomach grumbled and she grimaced at Allie. “Here,” she said, half-heartedly. “Have some.”
Allie grinned and cut a bite of Emanuela’s tuna to taste. “Oh yeah,” she said in an obscene tone. “That’s good!”
She reached for another bite and Emanuela smacked her hand away.
“Hey, if this is what you wanted you should’ve ordered it. Hands off!” She wrinkled her nose at Allie for dramatic effect.
“Oh, you are in a peculiar mood today.” Allie’s eyes gleamed as they studied Emanuela. She continued to stare at her as she took a bite of salmon. “That kind of nauseating happiness can only mean one thing. But unless he’s Superman, he’s still a million miles away. So who’s got you all—that?” She swirled her fork at Emanuela again.
Emanuela had always shared everything with Allie. After all, she told her about Finn the night she met him and they’d spent an hour talking about him in great detail through scandalized giggles. It was easier to talk about when it was just a phenomenon. When it wasn’t tangible. Allie knew she’d gone out with Finn, but Emanuela wasn’t ready to share the reason for her newfound giddiness just yet. In truth, she didn’t know what the hell to call it herself. In the space of a week, he went from an intriguing stranger in a lounge, to surprising new client, and now? Her heartbeat sped up. He was someone she’d grown to care about very much.
Allie was scowling at her.
“What? I told you I’ve been having a really good day. I even had time for my run this morning,” Emanuela said.
That worked.
“Em, it’s not safe for you to go running around Central Park so early in the morning all by yourself. You should use the key I gave you. It’s much safer in Gramercy.”
Emanuela sighed, sensing where this conversation was headed. Two years ago, she’d moved into her twelfth-floor condominium on the Upper West Side. At two million dollars, bottom of the market, the place was a steal and it was the only way she could afford it at the time. And she loved it. The “West 90s” area wasn’t as affluent as Allie’s Gramercy Park residence but Emanuela didn’t mind at all. It was lively but not loud, and still maintained a feeling of community that made her feel at home. She had access to theaters, art galleries and two nearby parks for recreation, and her morning commute to the financial district was less than thirty minutes whether she drove or took the train.
“I do use it,” she said. “And it’s beautiful but it’s so boring in there sometimes. Half the fun of going for a jog is the people watching and smells and sounds. I could pass out dead in Gramercy Park and no one would find me until the maintenance people came around the next day.”
Allie groaned. “Stop being dramatic. Use the key.”
Emanuela stuck out her tongue at her worrywart of a best friend before changing the subject. “Are you excited for NOLA? I am. I think a change of scenery will be good for us about now.”
“Oh God, I thought I’d told you…”
It was Emanuela’s turn to groan. “You can’t come.”
Allie’s face fell. “I tried to make it work! You know I did, but I’m completely booked! Over booked, really. I need every available day for prep. I really was looking forward to our trip this year.”
“No, I know. I get it,” Emanuela said, hiding her disappointment with a small smile. “I guess we’re getting too busy for these spur-of-the-moment trips, huh? Our lives are so unpredictable now.”
“Wait.” Allie’s face lit back up again.
“Allie?” Emanuela knew that look. She could practically see the gears moving in her friend’s brain.
“My life might be unpredictable right now but yours isn’t. I mean, not consistently anyway.” Allie waved off her own rambling in annoyance. “But you can still go!”
“No. Allie—” Emanuela shook her head. “This was supposed to be the two of us! It won’t be any fun hitting the jazz festival and getting drunk all by my lonesome.”
“But that’s what I’m trying to tell you! You don’t have to go alone. Take the good doctor with you instead! Oh my God, it’s perfect!”
“I don’t know—”
“It IS. Just imagine how much fun you’d have if you had a whole weekend to yourselves. No work, just good food, wine, and a big strong man to hammer out all your dents,” she said, getting more carried away with every word.
Emanuela winced at her description. Only Allie could phrase innocent words in a way that sounded crasser than direct sexual references, but she had to admit that the idea sounded so good. “I do like the idea but it’s such short notice.”
“It’s three weeks away! Besides, who cares? He’s unemployed!”
Emanuela glared.
“He is, Em. Gainfully so, but still. It’s not like he needs to put in for time off.”
She’s right! Emanuela thought, daring to hope.
“No need to reimburse me for the ticket, it’s on the house,” Allie said. “You need to get laid. Let this be my gift to you.”
“Gee, thanks.” Emanuela grimaced again.
“You’re welcome, hon. I gotta run. I’ve got a tasting in thirty minutes.” Allie gathered her things to leave. “Try not to get blue balls til then, okay? They’ve got apps for that.” She winked wickedly before pecking Emanuela’s cheek and taking off.
Emanuela shook her head, and the same grin she’d worn on her way in spread across her face. They’ve got apps for that. Boy, did she know it.