"Hey kiddo! Come in here a sec!" Delia rolled her eyes. She hated when he called her that. She was twenty-two and had graduated at the top of her class and he still treated her like she was the eighteen year old kid who walked in four years ago. She didn't know how but Jonah Hutchinson was going to figure out she was a grown woman if it killed her. She got up from cataloging the photographs she was working on to stand in the door to his office. He bent over a putter and lined up his shot. Damn, the man did have the cutest butt. She might overlook it if it weren't combined with the shoulders and back of your average Greek god. The end result always left her tongue tied. To make matters worse, he wore his unofficial summer uniform of a tank and cargo shorts so she couldn't pretend not to see all his masculine perfection. "You bellowed?" Jonah turned around and even though she knew what to expect, the sight of him took her breath away as usual. When Uncle Cam had gotten her the job he never said, “Oh by the way, your new boss could have posed for Michelangelo.” He forgot to mention the man that was Hutchinson Investigations had eyes that made women's knees weak and their clothes fall off. Something about the piercing aquamarine color and the healthy dose of mischief was a sucker punch to her gut. He had probably been blonde as a kid but his hair had mellowed to a burnished gold that on a lesser man would have been mousy. On Jonah, it still had sparks of copper that caught the light, not that she would have noticed, really! "Forgot to shave again?" She hated stubble on guys her age. They always looked like they were trying too hard to be dangerous. In Jonah's case, it functioned like the rattle on a snake, or at least it should. Mostly, it made her palms itch with wanting to run her hands over the planes of his face. For most women, by the time they realized how much trouble they were in, he was already halfway out the door and they were lying there dazed, wrapped in a sheet, and with a wistful smile on their face. The real problem with stubble on Jonah was it seemed to highlight his mouth. Delia had never really considered the male mouth as sexual until she started working for him. Now she always had him repeat everything because she'd get wrapped up in some fantasy involving that particular piece of his anatomy and miss the last half of whatever he said. She should just give her notice and move on. She had her degree; she could do way more for his business than he'd ever let his “Shortstuff” or any of the other stupid, cute nicknames he called her, do. Someone else would be happy to let her do what she wanted. Information security was a hot area right now. Hackers weren't content to just go after banks and the government anymore. With the right team she could offer a real service to prevent disaster to companies. Not that Jonah would let his “Littlebit” do it. She had to make him see she could be a fantastic asset, grow his business. She even had money to invest, not that he would even consider it. Oh sure, she wanted to be his partner in business. But what she really wanted was to find out if all the women calling here looking for him, begging for him to come back to their beds, were telling the truth. According to sources that should know, Jonah Hutchinson was the bomb in bed. As in, would ruin you for any man after him. If the theory of "you get better at what you do the more you do it" were true, Jonah had to put
Don Juan to shame. Jonah loved women. He liked the way they looked, smelled, tasted, sounded, and felt. He was happy to show them too, as long as they didn't want a repeat performance or, if he granted one, didn’t expect a third, ever. Besides, they always had fun at work. The same little boy charm that made him completely unreliable marriage material also made him a hell of a lot of fun. "Hello, Shortstuff? Off in Na-Na land?” "What did you want or did you just need an audience while you lined up your shot?" "Ooh, aren't you touchy this morning? Be nice or I won't tell you the surprise I have for you." Delia bit her lip. Jonah's surprises usually meant she was going to be taking on some extra hours, which meant extra cash. Always a good thing. "How much is it gonna cost you this time?" "Actually I was kind of hoping we could come to some kind of arrangement because I need three weeks." "Three weeks! As in 24/7?" "Wait, I haven't gotten to the really tough part yet." "What? Do I have to sleep with you?" She added the eye roll for extra credit. "No, just pretend to." "I was kidding." "I'm not. I need you to pretend to be my wife..." Delia choked. "Obviously this is very deep undercover because anyone knowing your reputation would realize you can't possibly be married." "Very funny; don't be a brat. Seriously, I need you to meet me at the Paradise Resort in the Bahamas in a week and a half. I need you to look like a girl too." "Hey! That was a cheap shot. Considering the amount of hard labor I end up doing around here these clothes are just fine. It's not like you get dressed up." "Yeah, well, I'm the boss. Here, take some cash to get yourself something pretty." He handed her a wad of bills. "Jonah, there must be close to a thousand dollars here!" "You're going to need three weeks’ worth of clothes, girl's clothes!" "Fine. What's your cover?" "What does that have to do with anything?" "Well, if you are a beach bum," she held her hand out to indicate his present state of dress, "then I would get different clothes than I would if I were married to a successful business man." "I can't be both?" Damn the man for grinning at her. How was she supposed to be righteously angry if all she could think about was how she wanted to trace the corners of his mouth with her tongue? "No, not really, not even on vacation. So what is the job and how are you playing this?" She tried to cover her discomfiture with a look of boredom. "I guess business man; you just need to look pretty and not too flashy." "Okay, I'll need some time to go shopping and put stuff together. You gonna mind me working short hours for the rest of the week?" "No, I don't have anything else going on so it should be fine. We need to talk about how the hell I'm gonna pay you since the overtime on this is gonna kill me." "Let me think about it. Maybe I can come up with an alternative." She knew exactly
what she wanted but she'd have to wait till they got to the resort to spring it on him. *** Where the hell was Shortstuff? It wasn't like her to be late. She had texted him the plane would be getting in now and the plane had come in on time but no Squirt. Of course he didn't mind waiting when the scenery was so nice. He didn't know who the bombshell that got off the kid's flight was waiting for but he was one hell of a lucky guy. Every man in the place was looking at her and licking their lips like she was a Sunday pork chop and they wanted to suck the meat off her bones. Damn fine, she was put together like the girls they painted on the sides of World War II bombers - just the way he liked women. He never got the whole skinny girl thing. He'd definitely been born in the wrong era. It was a simple equation to him: men were supposed to be hard, women were supposed to be soft. He liked his women like this one, with curves in all the right places and not little ones either. She was dressed to accentuate those curves, which was even better. It meant that she wasn't letting all the crap advertising tell her she didn't look great - she knew she did. She looked cool and crisp, like she was coated in a sugar shell waiting for someone to crack it and get to the sweet soft center. Her tight little skirt cupped her ass, hugged her thighs, and ended in ruffles at the bottom. It was long enough that her knees were covered but those ruffles were like a neon sign making you look at her curvy legs. He'd even bet there was real lingerie under there. He'd love to find out; shame that wasn't going to happen. Her heels weren't those stupid platform kind that reminded him of hooves. This surprised him 'cause she was about five feet tall if she was an inch. He might be north of six feet but he had a thing for shorter women. He didn't really dwell on what it said about him but short girls brought out both his dominant and protective urges. Maybe that made him a macho shit but tough. He still thought they were hot in a “wild in bed and take home to mom” kind of way. She was wearing a blouse, not a shirt or T-shirt but an honest to God feminine blouse, in some silky material; the collar did some kind of fold over thing that showed off her rack. Jonah knew just from a glance they were natural, too. Plastic tits were another thing he didn't get. As an avowed “tits and ass” man, he liked natural better; they were more responsive, but some guys were just into quantity. Even her hair and makeup was old school. She had perfect red lips and her hair up just enough so you could fantasize about how it would look mussed up after you had gotten her in bed. She was even wearing a big straw sun hat. Who the hell wears hats anymore? He wished he could see her eyes but she was wearing big dark sunglasses. The polished lips and creamy skin just made you wonder what she'd look like after you'd kissed her breathless. Lipstick like that got a married guy in trouble because you'd find traces of it all over you if you played your cards right. Damn, he needed to get Delia and hightail it out of here before his cock got even harder. Where the hell was she? He'd been staring at his shoes for a minute trying to get his mind back to why he was here, so he was surprised when he looked up and saw the bombshell was about ten feet from him and closing in. He hoped she hadn't caught him staring but he started to turn red with the guilty thoughts he'd been thinking. "Jonah sweetheart, you look like you just got spit out of a whale." "What the hell? How do you..." She took off her sunglasses and smiled at him. Holy
hell! "Delia?" "Aren't you going to give your darling wife a kiss?" But she didn't give him a choice as she reached up, grabbing his tie and pulled him down to her lips. Jonah was so stunned that he almost didn't respond - almost. His brain may have been stunned stupid but his body had spent the last ten minutes coming up with exactly what it wanted to do with her. One hand around her back pulled her into him while the other cupped her ass. If he had actually been able to think he might have been more of a gentleman or he might have had her against the wall to mark her as his right then and there. She must not have minded how he had grabbed at her though because her arms wound round his neck and shoulders pulling him even closer. There was no way she could miss his erection. "I don't understand. Where... how...?" "You told me to get some clothes and look pretty." She did a little turn so he could see the whole package. He had a sudden urge to take off his jacket and throw it around her so no other man could see her. "Pretty, sure, but not reduce the entire male population to slavering idiots. You aren't exactly going to fly under the radar looking like that." She pursed her lips which, God help him, made her look even more like a sex kitten. "You seem to like it fine." She leveled a pointed glance at his crotch. "That was all I really cared about since I figured you were buying. Besides, I needed to get clothes that looked good on me; the retro stuff fits better on my kind of body." "It sure as hell does." He hadn't realized he'd said it out loud till she started laughing at him. "My bags should be off the plane by now. Do you want to bring your car around and I'll bring them out?" "I can carry your bags for you." He looked at his shoes, suddenly feeling sheepish. "This from the same guy who last week sat there while I moved file boxes from one room to the other?" "Sorry. It’s not like you suddenly realized I'm an asshole." "Not an asshole really more like a pain in my ass. Let's find my bags." Half an hour later they were on their way across the island to the Paradise Resort. Jonah was still having trouble breathing, especially with her so close. He needed to drop her off at the hotel and go to the beach or something, anything to put some distance between him and her so he could think. The entire time they were getting the bags he kept trying to picture her in her usual baggy jeans and T's but now when he did he knew what they were hiding and even in his head he wanted to just pull them off her. He couldn't remember the last time he was this consumed with pure unadulterated lust. Â