Lip Lock Read online

  Lip Lock

  Lip Lock

  Susanna Carr

  KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.

  http://www.kensingtonbooks.com

  To Hilary Sares,

  with thanks for her guidance,

  her patience, and most of all

  for her wicked sense of humor

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Lip Lock

  Chapter 1

  If she didn’t get something to eat, her coworkers would have to take cover!

  Molly Connors oh so casually strolled toward the executive kitchen. She darted her gaze side to side, making sure the coast was clear. Seeing no one around, she walked into the kitchen as if she owned the place.

  She glanced around the rich cherry cabinetry and the dark granite counters. The place was empty. Whew!

  She wasn’t up to creating a credible excuse. The food staff could probably care less, but it was the executives on the floor that took offense. They acted as if one had to be a club member to enter.

  She opened the door to the stainless steel refrigerator, scanned the labels on the fancy jars, and slammed it closed. Weren’t there any leftovers? She hadn’t eaten all day—unless you counted the day-old Halloween candy, which she didn’t—and was in desperate need of something other than a Tootsie Roll. Her stomach was growling so loud it could be heard over phone conversations.

  She peered inside a small ceramic serving dish and found a fortune cookie still in its wrapper. Good enough. Molly grabbed the treat, the cellophane crackling loudly in the silence. She cracked open the cookie and stuffed a jagged piece in her mouth.

  Molly closed her eyes and sighed as she tasted the almond flavor. It was good, but it wasn’t going to blur the sharp edge of hunger. She needed something more. Something substantial.

  She broke off another section of cookie and vaguely wondered about her fortune. Molly frowned when she saw there was no slip of paper.

  “That’s not even funny.” She glared at the cookie and stuffed it in her mouth.

  She might be down on her luck right now, Molly silently admitted as she munched, but that didn’t mean she was stuck there. She knew it was only temporary, although getting a second opinion would have been nice.

  It didn’t even have to be about her upcoming work review. She knew that was in the bag. When she started working at Ashton ImageWorks, they promised to increase her pay raise after three months’ probation. She followed the rules. She was here every day and on time.

  Now if she could make it to Friday without starving to death…

  Molly opened the pantry door and scanned the contents. There was nothing. Not unless she could cook it undetected and get back to the reception desk in five minutes.

  She started opening and closing the cabinet doors. She opened the one under the sink. Sheesh! Her kitchen was smaller than this.

  The cupboards were almost as bare as the ones in her apartment. What was that about? Hers were bare because she’d been waiting for payday. These shelves were empty because the kitchen was too big.

  She opened the cabinet over the sink and nearly jumped for joy when she saw a jar of marinated olives. It wasn’t sweet, it wasn’t from a vending machine, and it was a fruit. Or was it a vegetable? Who cared? Right now it was her lunch.

  She struggled to open the jar. The oil sloshed out and she jumped back before it dripped on her outfit. Molly hunted for a towel. She pulled open the drawers and doors under the huge preparation island. Bingo! She found a few rolls of paper towels way back just as she heard someone outside the kitchen.

  “Sure thing, Kyle.”

  Shoot! Molly wanted to stomp her foot. It was Glenn, the chief financial officer. He was an okay guy if you could ignore his need to establish a caste system at work. Which she couldn’t, since he made it clear she was at the bottom of the system.

  “I’m going to grab something to eat.”

  Molly looked around frantically. She had to hide. If he found her in here again today, he was going to rant at her, and she was going to come up empty-handed. Again.

  “I’ll see you at the meeting.”

  Molly dove in after the paper towels. Ow! Maybe her kitchen was bigger. She winced as her knee hit the wood. There went her new pair of pantyhose.

  She slammed closed the cabinet door with her free hand and caught her knuckle. Molly muffled her cry and stuffed her pinched finger in her mouth just as she heard Glenn’s foot hit the kitchen’s tile floor.

  Okay, Glenn, she thought as her fingertip throbbed at the same beat as her skinned knee. Just get in, get out, and don’t go looking for paper towels.

  She heard him walking around. He wasn’t opening anything as far as she could tell. Just…pacing.

  Go. Pain bloomed from her lower back and shot up her spine. Just go away. Shoo.

  The door swung open.

  Finally. Molly wanted to sigh with relief but she couldn’t move her shoulders. She didn’t think she could stay this squooshed up much longer.

  “Where have you been?” Glenn whispered fiercely.

  Huh? Molly’s head shot up and caught the hard wooden edge. She winced and pressed her lips shut.

  “I couldn’t get away.”

  What was this? Another person? Come on, people. Don’t you have important work to do?

  But who was the woman? It wasn’t Annette, the only female exec, and therefore acceptable in Glenn’s eyes to walk into the executive kitchen. It must be someone high in administration.

  She suddenly heard the squeak of shoes on linoleum.

  “Kiss me,” Glenn ordered.

  Excuse me?

  She heard the smack of lips on lips.

  Whoa! Not good. Whoever the woman was, she was really stupid. Molly had made some hideous career moves in the past, but even she knew this was professional suicide.

  “I want you,” the woman said.

  Duh.

  “I want you right here and now.”

  No, you don’t. You really, really don’t.

  “Someone might walk in,” Glenn said.

  “I know. That’s the idea.”

  “Julia—”

  Julia! Molly’s eyes widened. No way. And here she thought the engineering coordinator was a class act who had it all together. A little bit snooty, but Molly assumed that meant the woman had standards.

  “You want me?” Julia asked in a purr. “Take me now.”

  No. No. No. Molly frowned as she heard the rustle of clothing and the muffled breathing. She nearly jumped out from her hiding place when she heard the thud above her. Felt it. The island shook.

  Molly flattened her hands against the walls. Were they doing it on top of her? On the island? Where people prepared the food?

  Okay, new rule. She was not eating anything from this kitchen unless it came with a tamper-proof seal.

  “You naughty girl. You’re not wearing any panties.”

  I really didn’t need to know that. She wanted to cover her ears, but couldn’t reach them.

  “You’re dripping wet.”

  Didn’t need to know that, either.

  And then she heard the sounds. The slap of skin, a few slurps, and something like gnawing. The cabinetry creaked and groaned under their weight. At least she was already in the standard earthquake position.

  Why does this feel just
like home? Every night she could hear the bed springs go wild in the apartment upstairs. She probably would have never noticed it if her neighbor wasn’t a prostitute who did most of her business at night.

  “Oh, God,” Julia whimpered. “That feels good.”

  I don’t care.

  “I’m going to come.”

  Thanks for the warning, Jules. Like I couldn’t predict that.

  She heard the muffled sobs and felt the frenetic pounding above her. Her neck hurt and the back of her head was probably going to be permanently dented.

  And then…silence. Blessed, peaceful silence, if you didn’t count the hum of the refrigerator. Or the hard, labored breathing, but she was trying to block that out.

  “God, that was great.”

  Says who?

  “Oh, Glenn…”

  Enough pillow talk. Leave before I get a charley horse.

  “You’re still so hard. So big.”

  That image was going to scar her fragile psyche. Wasn’t it enough that every time she saw the engineering coordinator she was going to look for nonexistent panty lines? Or that every time she heard a mule bray, she’d think of Julia?

  “I want that monster in me. Right now.”

  Oh, for crying out loud, get a room!

  “Take me in your mouth.”

  Molly leaned a little more to the left and carefully opened the jar of olives. This might take a while.

  She plucked a fat green olive from the jar and wondered if there ever was going to be a day when she had it all together. When she’d be sneaking into the kitchen for sex instead of a garnish. Desperate for a condom instead of a condiment.

  It was doubtful. She nibbled the olive, thinking a dry white wine would have gone well with her lunch, as Julia reduced Glenn into mumbling baby talk.

  “Oh, yeah,” Glenn crooned. “Just like that.”

  The only way she’d have a rendezvous in the executive kitchen was if she planned to meet Kyle Ashton. She smiled as the image of his tall, lean, and muscular body popped into her head. The light green eyes. And that mouth! Full and wide, that was made for kissing.

  Yep, Molly decided as she shifted, flattening the rolls of paper towels with her hip as she tried to find a more comfortable position. She’d do Kyle anytime, anywhere. No questions asked.

  Now if he just knew she was alive, she’d be all set.

  Kyle dropped the file on his assistant’s desk and walked out of her office when he caught a furtive movement from the corner of his eye. He turned sharply and looked down the long hallway just in time to see Julia slink out of the kitchen.

  The woman looked flushed. Rumpled. Like her hard, brittle edges had gone soft. She tugged at her sophisticated black suit jacket and smoothed her sleek blonde hair. If he didn’t know better, he’d think Julia just had sex. But he had to be wrong, which wouldn’t be a surprise. It’d been a while since he made a woman look that way.

  Exactly three months, now that he thought about it. Ever since Molly Connors walked into his office.

  From the moment she flashed him a wide smile and her left cheek dimpled, he knew the receptionist was going to be trouble. He had no idea how much. Or what kind.

  He automatically glanced at the reception desk. He felt the familiar mix of relief and disappointment when she wasn’t there. The security glass doors that separated her work station from the rest of the offices never diluted the energy that crackled from her. Sometimes he wondered if it only served to magnify her allure. Make it seem brighter. Less attainable.

  Kyle rubbed his hand over his eyes and almost missed seeing his friend Glenn walk out of the kitchen. Disheveled, red in the face, and sweating profusely. Glenn was looking down as he zipped up his trousers.

  What the hell? Anger roared through him as he watched Glenn retreat to his office.

  That goddamn liar. Kyle gritted his back teeth before he said it out loud.

  The chief financial officer could not keep his pants on. Never had, never would. Kyle used to think it was a phase, but now he knew it was part of his character.

  Glenn’s trysts and encounters were annoying. Even inconvenient. But lately, it’d been nothing but drama, and was creating major problems at work. One of these days, it was going to put them in a legal mess.

  If he had been any other employee, the guy would have been dismissed. But Glenn was one of the founders, not to mention Kyle’s oldest friend.

  Supposedly more than a friend. When Kyle confronted him with the problem a week ago, Glenn swore he wouldn’t do anything to hurt the company. Even went so far as to say, “Kyle, you are like a brother to me. I wouldn’t do anything to disappoint you.”

  And he fell for it. Not only was the guy screwing around, but right under his nose. Kyle shook his head in self-disgust and strode down the hall, determined to confront Glenn.

  So he could be lied to again? Listen to promises his friend had no intentions of keeping? Kyle slowed his pace and looked at the kitchen’s swinging door.

  He hesitated, but if he went into the kitchen, what did he expect to see? Pots and pans thrown all over the floor? Food smeared on the refrigerator in the shape of a body print?

  He didn’t want to see any evidence of raw passion. He wanted some proof that he was wrong. That he was jumping to conclusions. That Glenn had meant what he had said.

  Kyle pushed open the door and halted when he saw Molly Connors crawling out of the cabinet door.

  “Oh!” She yelped as she tumbled to her knees. “Uh…”

  He stared at her, his throat squeezing closed at the unexpected sight of her. She flipped her wavy brown hair from her eyes, the golden red streaks catching the overhead lights. Her hair fell to her shoulders, free from pins or product. It beckoned for him to touch.

  “Hi?” she said as she rose to her feet.

  He couldn’t stop staring. The lavender silk blouse looked soft and fragile as it caressed her shoulders and curves. The darker lavender tweed skirt should have concealed the gentle slope of her hips, but instead it emphasized her small waist.

  “I was hunting for”—she looked at the jar of olives in her hand—“paper towels.”

  He didn’t say a word. His eyes traveled down her long legs, noting the laddered nylon at her knee. He paused when he saw the black heels. They seemed out of place with the outfit, but he didn’t know why.

  She rolled her eyes as her complexion turned pink. “Not that these are paper towels.”

  There were two possibilities of why she was in the cabinets.

  “I mean”—she gestured wildly with her hands—“I know what paper towels look like.”

  Either she was not too bright…

  “They’re paper. On a roll.” Her cheeks were streaked bright red. “With…with holes on both sides.”

  Or she was a voyeur. He wasn’t sure which answer he preferred, but he was leaning to the first one.

  A third possibility hit him. Threesome. He was surprised that didn’t occur to him first.

  “Okay, I’ll shut up now.” She pressed her lips into a tight, straight line.

  “I’m looking for Glenn,” he finally said.

  She quickly looked at the kitchen island. “Mmm.” Nodded her head but kept her lips firmly sealed.

  “Have you seen him?” he prompted her.

  She opened and closed her mouth. “Seen him? No.”

  The lie irritated him. “You sure?” he asked as Molly became more flustered. He took a step closer to her. “He was going to be here.”

  “Haven’t seen hide nor hair of him.” She winced and turned crimson. “Just got here myself.”

  He felt his eyebrow arch. “You did?”

  She slowly blinked. “Yep.”

  “When?” Kyle stood in front of Molly. He caught a whiff of her scent. He couldn’t place it, but it made him think of something sweet and delicious.

  He reached out and Molly went still. He felt the tension soaring, arcing between them. Heat flared and boomeranged.

 
Kyle’s fingers brushed her hair. It was softer than he anticipated. He wanted to curl his hand into the waves and get tangled.

  Molly’s sharp intake echoed in his ears and he reluctantly let his hand drop. “This was in your hair,” he said gruffly, showing her the sliver of wood.

  “Oh.” She grabbed the long splinter and held it in her clenched hand. “Uh, it must have happened when…” She drifted into silence.

  “Paper towels,” he explained for her.

  “Right.” Her voice was a whisper.

  “Molly”—his voice was soft but carried a bite—“how could you have missed seeing Glenn when he was right here in the kitchen with you?”

  Her eyes widened and she blinked rapidly. “I, uh. Well. Okay, I was in the cabinet.” She motioned defiantly at the island. “I didn’t see anybody else in there.”

  “What?” Kyle heard what she said. He just couldn’t believe it.

  She set the jar down. “I need to get back to my desk. If I see Glenn, I’ll let him know you’re looking for him.”

  Kyle stared after her, unable to tear his gaze away until the door swung shut. What was it about Molly Connors that made his head spin?

  And why did people find the need to lie to him?

  Why had he been concerned about lying? It was no big deal, Kyle decided a half an hour later. So what if he questioned his oldest friend’s word, or if the receptionist didn’t tell him the truth? What was the saying about the devil you know? Yeah, he’d take that over the nameless, faceless people out to destroy him.

  He leaned back in his chair and faced his three top advisors across the conference table. Glenn, Timothy, and Annette had been through it with him from the start. Together they had achieved the impossible and amassed power, respect, and a fortune.

  But today, he felt vulnerable. Like he was the underdog—the one thing he swore he would never be again.

  “Our security procedures are expensive as it is,” Glenn said. “We don’t need to add on anything else.”

  “Glenn, you’re not getting it,” Timothy, the head of security, said from across the conference table. “Last night we caught a low-level computer programmer walking out of the building with the blueprint in his backpack. Obviously, we need to go on lockdown.”