Make Me Need

“Lots of changes.”

He sounded neutral enough, but she couldn’t help straightening her spine and lifting her chin. “Yes, but that’s what I was hired to do—create the best client-facing aspect of this business as possible. That starts with first impressions. You and Aaron have a company that’s one of the best in the business, and as silly as it might seem, presentation matters. Meeting in secondary locations is fine, but this is better.”

“One condition.” He kept going before she had a chance to protest. “No more painting alone.”

“Of all the—”

Cameron turned to face her, his chest nearly touching hers with each inhale. The proximity stalled her breath in her lungs and choked off whatever she’d been about to say. Trish swallowed hard, caught between wanting him to kiss her and wanting him to back the hell up and let some of the air back into the room. He didn’t touch her, though. Didn’t lean down. Didn’t cup her jaw or press her back against the wall and ravage her mouth.

Get yourself together.

His voice disturbed the air between them. “No. Painting. Alone.” Cameron’s dark gaze dropped to her mouth for the briefest of seconds before it snapped back to her eyes. “Do we understand each other, Trish?”

The sound of her name on his lips turned her knees to Jell-O. She swayed toward him, toward the command in his voice, but caught herself at the last moment. Do not kiss your boss. Trish took a step back, and then another. She looked at the floor and swallowed hard. “Yeah, we understand each other.”

He helped her finish cleaning up in silence, though she stewed a bit when Cameron made a point of taking the ladder and stowing it in the closet without letting her touch it. He walked back into the front office as she slipped on her shoes. “You’re staying with Aaron?”

She could have let him believe that, but Trish had already misstepped enough on her first day without adding lying to the list, too. “I was, but I got my own place.” Her brother had fronted her the money for the first month’s rent, but she didn’t think he wanted her underfoot any more than she wanted to be underfoot while he and Becka got used to the whole new baby thing.

Cameron gave her another of those dark looks like he wasn’t sure what he thought of that. Good Lord, but the man was cranky. He finally sighed. “I’ll call you a cab.”

It didn’t take much to read between the lines. He’d been on his way out of here when he caught her unfortunate fall. She was keeping him from plans of some sort, but his weirdly stubborn chivalrous streak wouldn’t let him abandon her. Chivalry? More like control freakishness. Either way, he’d helped her out with painting even though he didn’t have to, and she wasn’t about to impose on him further.

Trish smiled and grabbed her purse. “Actually, I’m walking. It’s only a few blocks from here.”

“Then I’ll walk you.” If anything, he sounded more grumpy now than he had before.

“Oh, that’s totally not necessary. The neighborhood is just fine and it’s not particularly late.” She gave Cameron an absent smile and headed for the elevator. “Thanks, though.” It was edging toward eleven, but that didn’t mean anything. She’d checked the street out last week with Becka—apparently walking could induce labor and Becka had been determined to make it happen—and there were several bars that would still be open around now, which meant pedestrian traffic. It was one of the pluses of the area when she was picking a place to live—that and the apartment came furnished and was within walking distance to the office. The rent was still astronomical, but Aaron was paying her an astronomical salary.

He’d promised it wasn’t a pity job, that he really needed her specifically to do this, but it felt like a pity job.

Stop it. Chin up. You’re going to help out your brother, save up some money and explore the city while you figure out your next step. Those are all good things.

She’d been so caught up in her thoughts that she hadn’t noticed Cameron walking beside her until Trish stepped out onto the street and was hit full in the face with icy wind. She shivered and barely had time to wish that she’d packed a warmer coat before a heavy weight settled on her shoulders.

She blinked and touched the coat Cameron had just draped over her. “You’ll freeze.”

“I’m fine.”

He shoved his hands into his pockets. “Which way?”

She could keep arguing and let them both stand out in the cold or she could just give in and spend next week establishing that she didn’t want Cameron looking after her. She had an older brother. She didn’t need two.

You don’t see this man in a brotherly light and you know it.

Shut up.

And he wouldn’t have stared at your mouth like that if he saw you like a sister.

Seriously. Shut. Up.

She picked up her pace and Cameron easily fell into step next to her. Even as she told herself to keep her smile in place and just accept his chaperoning, she couldn’t keep her mouth shut. “You realize I’m an adult, right? I can walk three blocks without having you shadow my steps and glower at anyone who looks at me sideways.” When he didn’t respond, her irritation flared hotter. “I have an older brother. I don’t need another one.” She jerked her thumb toward the door they’d stopped in front of. “This is me.”

“Trish.”

God, the things that man could do with a single syllable. She froze, her feet rooted to the ground as he stepped closer, his big body blocking the wind. This time, she couldn’t stop herself from swaying toward him, answering the gravitational pull he exuded. He didn’t move, but he didn’t have to. Trish went up onto her tiptoes and her mouth found his as if there had never been another destination for her.

The contact shocked her right down her to bones. His lips moved against hers, cautious and then commanding, taking everything she gave and then demanding more. Her knees actually buckled at the slow slide of his tongue against hers, and Cameron caught her easily around the hips.

He lifted his head, breaking the contact between them. All she could do was stare as he took his jacket from around her shoulders and shrugged it on. He nudged her to her door and waited for her to key in the code to get through. Then Cameron stood there until she shut the door firmly behind her.

Trish watched him stalk away. Did that just happen?

She’d just kissed her boss.

On her first day.

She pressed her shaking fingers to her lips. “I am in so much trouble.”

CHAPTER THREE

CAMERON SPENT ALL weekend cursing himself for kissing Trish back. He should have stepped away and clarified that they had a professional relationship only. Reminded her that she was his best friend’s little sister. Done literally anything except coax her mouth open with his tongue.

Now he knew what she tasted like. And that she’d melted so sweetly against him at the first contact. Not to mention the delicious way she’d shivered when he’d grabbed her hips.

Fuck me.

When Monday morning rolled around, he almost decided to work remotely. That was the path of a coward. Better to rip the Band-Aid off now and deal with her hurt feelings and move on. It might make the workplace awkward, but if Aaron’s glowing praise of his baby sister was any indication, it wouldn’t get her down for long.

It was only a kiss, after all.

The elevator seemed to take twice as long as normal, and he had to concentrate to keep from fidgeting. Cameron had arrived thirty minutes early on purpose. If he was safely camped out in his office, hopefully they could just pretend that misstep on Friday never happened.

The elevator doors opened and he barely made it a single step. If not for the walls being painted the same green he’d been elbow deep in a few days ago, he’d have thought he was in the wrong place. Comfortable-looking chairs—a warm sand color with a stripe of burnt red—were arranged on either side of the room. A leafy tree gracefully rose on either side of the window.

A window that had new curtains to match the chairs.

On the other side of the room, a water feature was arranged in the corner, a geometrical design with round stones and dark wood borders.

There was even fucking art on the walls.

When the hell did she find time to do this? She had to have put in long-ass days to find the pieces and haul them up here. He could comfort himself that they’d been delivered, but from what little he knew about Trish Livingston, he had no doubt that she’d physically carried every single piece up here herself.

Without asking for help.

Without once considering that she should ask for help.

Irritation flickered closer to true anger. He eyed her desk as he passed, taking in the cheery flower arrangement, the stack of bright Post-it notes and the overflowing mug of equally bright pens.

He clenched his jaw and headed down the hallway, but Cameron only made it three steps when the door to their mostly unused conference room opened and Trish herself appeared. She had a handful of paint color swatches in front of her face, and her brow was furrowed and her lips—red, today—were pursed. She hummed to herself. “This blue is too cold. No red. No yellow. I need a power color that’s not in-your-face.”

He planted his feet, irritation derailed by sheer curiosity. And the woman, damn her, didn’t even notice him standing there. She ran right into him and bounced off his chest, and it was only his cupping her elbows that kept her from landing on her ass.

“Damn!” Trish laughed. “Mom always said to keep my head on the here and now. Guess I should have listened, huh?”

Cameron just stared. They were so fucking close, if she leaned a little farther in, he would be able to see directly down her flowy purple top. He averted his eyes and released her. “You’re here early.”

“Lots of work to be done.”

It was too fucking early for her to be this chipper. He shot her a look. “How much coffee have you had?”

“Coffee?” She frowned. “I don’t drink coffee. It gives me the shakes and that’s just not my idea of fun. I stick with chamomile tea when I want something warm and cozy in my hands.” Trish’s blond hair was in a cloud around her shoulders today, her curls giving her an angelic look that was completely at odds with her fitted skirt.

For fuck’s sake, Cameron, stop looking at her. She’s being professional. You’re being inappropriate.

He cleared his throat and took another step back. “The conference room is fine. You don’t need to kill yourself for this job. The front office didn’t need to be finished so quickly.”

She wilted a little, but then her smile brightened until it was damn near blinding. “I like the work.” Trish charged forward, and he had to scramble back to avoid making contact with her again. She glanced at him as if he was being ridiculous. “And, no, the conference room is not fine. You can’t expect clients to take your presentations seriously when there are spiderwebs in the corners and all the chair cushions are moth-eaten. I’ll take care of it.”

That was what he was afraid of.

“Trish.”

She stopped in her tracks, and her smile dimmed to something closer to a genuine expression. “I was hoping we didn’t have to do this, but obviously you’ve been chewing on it all weekend.” Trish sighed and turned to face him fully. “Look, I’m sorry. I was out of line when I kissed you. I could give half a dozen reasons why it happened, but the truth is that it was inappropriate and I put you in a bad spot. So I’m sorry. Let’s pretend it never happened?”

Cameron wanted to know what those half a dozen reasons were, but he couldn’t ask. Not when she was so determined to put them back into their respective boxes of employee and employer. There was one thing he couldn’t let stand. “If you remember, I kissed you back.”

Her blue eyes flared with heat, quickly banked. “I remember.” Just like that, she was chipper Trish again, so sweet she made his teeth ache. “Don’t let me keep you from your work. I was hoping we could sit down later today and go over your current clients and their needs, but other than that I can get the conference room whipped into shape pretty quickly.”

“I have some time this afternoon.” Which would hopefully give him the opportunity to put a little distance between whatever the hell was going on between them.

“Perfect. If anything pops up between then and now, I’ll let you know.”

He shifted, realized he was backing away from her like someone trying to avoid being mauled by a wild animal and forced himself to turn away. “Do that.” He could have sworn she laughed a little as he strode away from her, but a quick glance over his shoulder showed her sunny expression firmly in place.

Must have been my imagination.

* * *

Trish walked to her desk on shaking legs. She’d had a plan. It was a very good plan. The best plan, considering her insane impulse to kiss Cameron a few short days ago. She’d come into the office and pretend like nothing had changed, like she was a professional who’d made a mistake, like she hadn’t used that brief kiss with him to bring herself to orgasm no less than seven times over the weekend.

It wasn’t her fault. She’d wanted to get the front office set up for Monday, but everywhere she looked, she saw evidence of Cameron. That was the spot he’d caught her when she’d fallen off the ladder. Over there in the corner was where she’d spent a solid sixty seconds staring at the line of his back muscles pressing against his shirt every time he’d reached over his head to paint. Right here was where they’d stood shoulder to shoulder as she’d told him her vision for the room.

A man shouldn’t be able to imprint himself on her inside of two hours with only a handful of words exchanged, and Trish had managed to convince herself that it was all in her head.

Until she’d collided with him in the hallway. They’d been so close, his big hands clasping her elbows in a way that should most definitely not be erotic, his chest rising and falling in the most tempting way possible.

She’d almost kissed him again.

Trish dropped into her chair and bumped her head against her desk a couple times. Sadly, the contact did nothing to clear the desire from her brain—or her body. I want my boss. I want to kiss him and do the horizontal tango and a few things that are illegal in half a dozen states.

What a mess.

A footstep had her opening her eyes, and she turned her head to press her cheek to her desk. Cameron stood in the middle of the hallway, his body tense and expression unreadable.

Because of course.

She couldn’t just have that brilliant little scene where she played it cool and professional and totally unaffected. No, he’d had to come back out here and see her for the mess she really was. Too late to salvage this. Might as well ride with it. “Can I help you with something?” She kept her tone even despite the fact she had her head on her desk and was obviously in the middle of a lust-driven breakdown.

Cameron looked like he wanted nothing more than to retreat and pretend this interaction had never happened. You and me both, man. He finally cleared his throat. “Is everything okay?”

“Sure. Fine and dandy.” Since he obviously had something to say, she sighed and straightened. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Somehow I find that hard to believe.” He shook his head and held up a thin file. “I have a web meeting to finish up a contract with an existing client in an hour. Would you like to sit in on it?”

She cautiously took the file and flipped through it. She didn’t necessarily need hand-holding, but it would be really useful to see how Cameron conducted business—both to see what he’d expect from her and to verify if it was as bad as Aaron seemed to think. But that also meant being in the same room as Cameron, and in close quarters.

It had to happen at some point.

I’m not ready.

You’re never going to be ready.

Wasn’t that the damn truth?

She took a careful breath and smiled brightly. “That would be great. I’ll go over this so I’m up-to-date.” She motioned to the file.

“Great.” He turned and walked away without another word.

Great.

She spent the next forty minutes going over the file to familiarize herself with the account and what Tandem Security did for the client. It was all pretty basic. They’d beefed up the client’s online security and added in a secondary package that was biannual upkeep for any major changes the client wanted. Smart. Keep a long-standing relationship so they come back here if they need more done.

By the time she walked into Cameron’s office, she’d managed to get herself under control. At least until she sank gingerly into the chair next to his in front of the monitor. He’d brought it over so she could be in the camera frame once the video call started, and the positioning put them within easy touching distance. It shouldn’t matter. It couldn’t matter.

To distract herself, she focused on his computer setup. It was more advanced than she’d ever had to deal with, dual monitors showing a variety of programs running that might as well have been Greek for all Trish understood them. She was more than decent with technology, but she’d never come close to what Aaron and Cameron did for a living. It blew her mind a little bit. “Fancy.”

“It does the job.” He hesitated and then tilted the screen so it faced her a little more directly. “This damn client is always late. Every single fucking time.”

Before she thought better of it, she laid her hand on his biceps. “You’re almost finished with this account. Just keep that in mind during the meeting and everything will go swimmingly.”

Cameron’s eyes dropped to where she touched him, and his arm flexed slightly beneath her palm. Slowly, oh so slowly, his gaze dragged up to her mouth, hesitated and then settled on her eyes. “You take positivity to a new level.”

A simple sentence, but the way he watched her didn’t feel simple. It made her stomach twist and ignited the desire she was working so damn hard to keep under wraps. It would be the simplest thing in the world to lean in a little bit, to give him a clear signal that she wanted a repeat of the other night—and more.

He’d kiss her until she forgot her own name, until she wasn’t worried about the future beyond where he’d touch her next. Until she felt the ground steady beneath her feet even as he made her fly. She’d hitch up her skirt and climb into his lap and...

“Trish?”

She blinked, her heart beating too hard. “Sorry, I didn’t hear what you said.”

Cameron reached up to touch the side of her face, gently guiding her to look at the monitor instead of him. “Client just logged on. I’m going to start the meeting.”

The meeting. Right. She swallowed hard. “Great.”

But he didn’t move back. His breath brushed the shell of her ear, drawing a shiver from her. “After the meeting, we’ll...talk.”

Talk? Or talk?

She stared blindly at the monitor, reality sinking its claws into her and digging deep. The attraction she felt for Cameron wasn’t going away—if anything, it was getting worse. Stronger. And if he meant what she thought—hoped, dreaded—he meant about talking, he was getting swept away alongside her.

Oh God, my brother is going to kill me.

Too bad she couldn’t bring herself to care. She’d played it safe for so long and she’d missed her dreams by a mile.

Maybe it was time to throw caution to the wind.

What could possibly go wrong?

CHAPTER FOUR

CAMERON MANAGED TO get through the final meeting without letting his disdain for the outgoing client show—because he was so damn distracted by Trish’s flowery perfume. No, not perfume. It was too subtle. It was probably lotion or shampoo or something, and the faint scent rose every time she shifted. Her hair brushed his shoulders, and his hands clenched against the need to dig into the thick curls and tilt her head back so he could claim her mouth again.

Focus.

He signed off the meeting and sat back, careful to angle his body away from hers. It didn’t help. Cameron had always considered his office obscenely large compared to the amount of space he actually needed to do his job. That was before Trish took up residence in it, filling every inch with her sunny presence. He didn’t know how to deal with it, and commanding her to get the hell out wouldn’t solve anything—and would only make him look like an asshole in the process.

Rightly so.

Cameron cleared his throat. “Did you decide on a color for the boardroom?”

Trish blinked those big blue eyes at him. “That’s what you wanted to talk about?”

No, what he wanted to talk about was how she felt about being spread out on his desk so he could kiss her until she was dizzy. Then he’d inch up that tease of a skirt and taste her there, too. Right here. In his office. While they were both on the clock, so to speak.

He was so out of line, it wasn’t fucking funny.

Focusing on work when she was so close he could run his thumb over her full bottom lip was a herculean task, but Cameron didn’t have any other option. He nodded, his voice gruffer than it had right to be. “The ceilings are just as high in there as in the front office, and you’ve already proven you can’t be trusted to follow the instructions on stepladders. Since I doubt you’re going to hire someone to do it, I’ll help you.” There. That was reasonable.

Except her eyes had gone wide and her jaw dropped. “That is the most ridiculous, backhanded compliment I’ve ever heard. I’m not even sure there’s a compliment in there. I am more than capable of doing my job.”

“I never said you weren’t.”

“Actually, you did. Thirty seconds ago.” She shoved to her feet, which put her breasts directly in his line of sight. Cameron jerked his gaze back to her face, but it wasn’t any better for his control. She was gorgeous when she was pissed and trying not to be, her hair moving around like a live thing and her body practically vibrating with repressed fury. She pointed a finger at him, seemed to realize she might be crossing a line and let her hand drop. “Aaron hired me to do this job because he knows I’m capable of handling it. That includes managing painting.” She stalked out the door without another word.

Cameron stared hard at the doorway, walking back through the conversation to figure out where it went wrong. Choosing not to kiss her again was the right call. That, he was sure of. Asking about the boardroom was a reasonable thing to do. Maybe he’d spoken a little harsher than he intended, driven by the need to keep the lust from his tone, but he hadn’t yelled at her. Telling her to accept his help was only reasonable because she’d about broken her damn neck when she’d tried to do the front room herself. It was possible he could have worded it more carefully, but he’d hardly called her inept. He’d been more abrupt in other conversations and she hadn’t reacted so intensely.

Another replay of the conversation and he thought he had the answer. I am more than capable of doing my job. Well, of course she was. Aaron wouldn’t have hired her if she wasn’t, sister or no. Cameron certainly wouldn’t have signed off on it unless she was qualified. She might not be well-balanced when standing on a stepladder, and her college degrees weren’t an exact fit, but she obviously had an eye for creating a welcoming environment, and how she’d handled herself in the meeting just now had only reinforced that hiring her was the right call. She was fucking perfect for the job.