Sizzling desire and office politics don't mix ... do they?
Forensic specialist Stevie Daniels will be day-shift supervisor. She's earned that promotion. But first, her boss has tasked her with digging up dirt on Vin Vasher, the rebellious night-shif...
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With a towel in hand, Vin wiped the steam off his bathroom mirror. Water droplets streaked downward, leaving lines of clarity in their wake. Pfft, he should be so lucky.
For the past twelve days, he'd devoted all his free time to preparing for this weekend's getaway with Stevie. Not only did he re-read the book on female orgasms, but he also searched the Internet for additional information. He reflected and pondered, in a valiant quest to discover the key to unlocking her sexual pleasure.
Passages from the book mixed with Stevie's own words, rained down on him in the shower. If a woman doesn't feel sexy—They treated me like a brother—Young impressionable girls grow up besieged by supermodels on magazine covers—I have to feel completely comfortable—Nurturers place the need of others before their own.
What did it all mean?
The mental calisthenics left him with a dull throbbing in his temples. Hell, solving a Rubik's Cube was less taxing.
Zero hour was at hand. Time had run out.
Talk to me, talk to me, talk to me. Vin smacked the towel on the vanity. "That's it. That has to be it." He twisted toward the door. "Hey, Ren! I think I got it."
He turned back to the mirror shaking his head. "I-I don't see how it's even possible. She's..." His jaw went slack. You fool. How could he be so stupid? The key he'd searched high and low for wasn't comprised of diamonds, furs, or lavish gifts. It didn't require riding up on a white horse and slaying a dragon. And it didn't involve spiriting her away on a jet to an exotic location.
He already possessed the key and always had.
The headache threatening to turn into a full-blown migraine evaporated with the steam. Vin's fists catapulted to the ceiling. "Yes. Yes. Yes. I'm going to rock her world."
* * *
Vin chuckled as he rang Stevie's doorbell, then turned to face the opposite apartment. Behind sunglasses, he counted. Inside the pockets of his leather jacket, his fingers twitched. The sound of the lock clicking open quickened his heart rate.
"Hey," she said, in that bubbly way he loved.
The jitterbugs in his gut leapt higher. In one fluid motion spun around. "Hey, Baby."
Stevie's lower jaw went one way, and her eyebrows the other. "Oh-My-God." She reached out to him. "Wa-wa-what did you do?" Her petite hands glided over the sides of his hairless face. "Damn. This is so hot."
Step one, check. He backed her into the condo, flinging the door closed behind them. "You like?"
"Hell yeah. But I love the beard, too." Her thumbs raked through the remainder of his precious facial hair, a slender, circular beard. "But why?"
Vin's chest tightened. He had no qualms discarding his beard of twenty years, but to expose more than his mere flesh, he couldn't. He propped the sunglasses up onto his head. "You once mentioned biker dudes and drooling in the same sentence." His arms wrapped around her waist. "I want to be your ole man this weekend."
