Page 42 of Rival Desires

“Becky?”

“Hey, neighbor!” she greeted me, sounding cheerful. “Your assistant Warner was kind enough to let me in downstairs. Such a darling, that guy.”

For a moment, I felt like I was stuck in some bizarre, out-of-body episode. Becky’s curls cascaded around her shoulders, her makeup flawless. Her sundress seemed a tad too chilly for the almost spring temperatures, but she didn’t appear cold at all. Perhaps it was because she clutched something warm enough to require pot holders. Something that smelled suspiciously like meatloaf.

“What in the world are you doing here?” I blurted out the words before I could filter them, but Becky kept beaming at me, unfazed.

“Well, I noticed it was getting late, and you weren’t back yet.” She closed the distance between us with a determined stride, forcing me to either dodge out of the way or risk being sandwiched between her and the wall.

I opted for the dodge, stepping aside as she breezed past me and into my office, her sundress swirling around her. She set the casserole dish on my desk and turned to face me, leaning back against it with her hands clasped behind her.

“I figured you probably hadn’t had dinner since you’ve been working so hard, so I thought I’d bring over some of my famous meatloaf.” She said it like it was the most natural thing in the world to show up unannounced with a hot dish.

I was still processing this information when she added, “If you could just point me to your plates and utensils, I’ll get us set up.”

“Uh, sure.” I rubbed the back of my neck, feeling a little flustered. “They’re in the kitchen, in the bottom cabinet to the left of the sink.”

“Great, I’ll be right back.” She scooped up the casserole dish and flashed me a smile before disappearing into the hallway.

Well, color me surprised, and a tad amused as I watched Becky sashay toward the kitchen. That girl was a force to be reckoned with, no doubt about it. And it seemed I was about to become the unsuspecting host of an impromptu dinner party.

I hastily saved my work, more than ready to usher Becky out of my workspace and get back into the world of quiet andtranquility. But who was I kidding? With her infectious energy and that mouthwatering meatloaf, a little company might just be what I needed.

When she returned, she carried two plates, each heaped with a generous portion of meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and green beans. The aroma filled the room, making my stomach growl.

“Go on, dig in,” she said, plonking the plates down in front of me. “I hope it’s to your liking.”

I thanked her as I took a seat and picked up my fork. The meatloaf was just as scrumptious as she’d made it out to be. I had to give it to her; she knew her way around a kitchen.

I shoveled in a few more mouthfuls, eager to finish up and send Becky on her way. I wasn’t exactly sure how I would do that, but I knew I couldn’t have her hanging around my office forever.

“Well, what’s the verdict?” she asked, eyes gleaming with excitement. “Does my meatloaf live up to the hype?”

I almost choked on the morsel of meatloaf in my mouth, scrambling to find the right words. “Uh, it’s... it’s really good, Becky. You can definitely cook.”

“I’m thrilled you think so.” She leaned in closer, her breasts nearly spilling out, unrestrained by a bra, the outline of her nipples teasing me. “I’ve spent years tweaking this recipe, and I think it’s finally perfect.”

I nodded, my gaze flickering between her face and the tempting sight before me. “It’s...it’s clear you’ve put in the effort. It’s exquisite.”

“I’m delighted you enjoy it,” she breathed, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper. “And just so you know, I have an abundance of other things that are just as enticing. Possibly even more so.”

Becky’s hips swayed hypnotically as she sauntered across the room, the very air molecules seeming to cling to her curves. My heart skipped a beat, and my grip on my fork loosened. She didn’t say a word; she simply took my fork, moved the plates aside, and straddled my lap, her body molded against mine.

“Becky,” I rasped, my voice hoarse. “You can’t just...do this.”

She looked at me, her eyes wide and innocent, the picture of temptation. “Can’t do what?” she purred, her voice low and seductive.

“This,” I managed to say, my voice strained with effort. “You can’t just stroll in here and...and...”

“And what?” she challenged, her voice dripping with sultriness. “Kiss you? Touch you? Make you feel like you’re on fire?”

I swallowed hard, my heart pounding. “I don’t want you to do any of those things,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

She giggled and nuzzled my neck. “Why not?” she murmured. “We’re both single, aren’t we?”

I tried to push her off gently, but she was unexpectedly strong. “No, Becky. This isn’t right. Besides, I need to finish working.”

Her chuckle was like a whisper of seduction, a soft, smoky sound that sent shivers cascading down my spine. “Cory,” she whispered, her lips grazing my ear, “you know you want me.”

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