Damaged Goods Read Online Free PDF Page B

good looks came
    in about once a month to discuss contract modifications or implementing his latest
    marketing strategies into his advertisements. When he did, it was no great secret
    that at least a dozen of my female colleagues would find reasons to be on my floor,

    18
    Lauren Gallagher

    milling around my assistant"s desk or heading to nonexistent meetings. After he
    left, Laura always fanned herself with a file folder and commented that the powers
    that be must have been screwing with the air-conditioning again.
    I"d long ago gotten the hang of getting through a meeting with him without
    stumbling over my words or throwing myself at him. That wasn"t to say I"d never
    imagined hooking a finger under his tie and loosening it while accidentally pulling
    him closer. I could probably have been accused of the odd daydream about what he"d
    look like without that crisp white button-down. I might have entertained a fantasy
    or two about a long kiss. A really long kiss.
    For the most part, I"d kept myself cool and professional around him, just like I
    did with any client.
    When he sauntered into my office at two o"clock this afternoon, though, he
    didn"t look like a man I could keep cool around. He always wore suits, but this one
    was tailored just right to showcase his broad shoulders and narrow waist.
    Maintenance must have changed some of the overhead bulbs over the weekend,
    because I didn"t remember my office lights ever picking out the highlights in his
    hair or the blue of his eyes quite like that.
    I"d also never noticed how long his fingers were. Long, fine fingers, every
    movement careful and precise even when he was doing nothing more than flipping
    through loose-leaf pages. While he read the latest proposed modification to his
    company"s contract, he absently turned a pen over and over between his fingers,
    completely oblivious to all the things going through my head.
    I shifted in my chair. My mind was like someone else"s today, dragging Clark
    much deeper into my fantasies than ever before. Usually, I just caught myself
    wishing for a clandestine kiss or even a well-timed glance down the front of my
    blouse.
    Maybe having my name on an escort agency"s client list had freed my inner
    slut, and she wasn"t the least bit ashamed of imagining Clark bending me over my
    desk or putting me on my knees to suck his cock. Forget having his shirt off. I
    wanted it rumpled, half-buttoned, and bunched in my hands. I wanted—
    He suddenly looked up. “I think I like the new terms here, but I"m a little
    concerned—” He paused. “Did, um, did I say something wrong?”
    “Hmm? No, of course not.”
    “Oh.” He smiled, the hint of shyness making me tingle in places no
    professional woman should tingle when trying to stay in a client"s good graces. “You
    looked like you were blushing a bit.”
    Me? Oh, nooo…
    I coughed and made a dismissive gesture, then glanced at the vents above my
    desk. “They"ve been…screwing with the air-conditioners in here lately. Gets a bit
    warm.” I cocked my head. “It"s not too hot in here for you, is it?”
    Yeah , that didn’t come across as a baited question.
    “No, I"m fine.”

    Damaged Goods

    19

    I cleared my throat. “You were saying, about the new terms?”
    “Right. Right.” He laid the pages on the desk, and while we went over his
    concerns, I didn"t look at him like that again. Nor did it make my heart skip when
    he absently adjusted the knot of his tie.
    Jocelyn, seriously, calm down.
    “Looks like everything"s in order.” He slid all the paperwork back into its file
    folder. “I"ll shoot you an e-mail if the powers that be object to anything.”
    “Sounds good.” I rose and extended my hand. “Thanks for coming by.”
    “Not a problem.” He shook my hand and smiled. “It was a pleasure, as always.”
    Yeah, you could say that . After some more polite small talk, I saw him out of
    the office.
    Laura and I watched him through the tinted glass doors. I fanned