Crossing the Line Page 3

“You forgot the spray.”

  Tiny flutters dance in my stomach. I reply, “I’ll wrap it back up tonight.”

  “Back up? You took the bandage off?”

  “I couldn’t really shower without destroying it, now could I?”

  He doesn’t respond for a minute. Dots appear as he’s typing, but then it’s nothing again—just a clear, empty message box.

  I finish diffusing my hair and am pleased with the results. Too bad it’s going to be wasted on Noah Parker.

  Noah’s face pops into my mind, and my vagina throbs. If only he wasn’t so panty melting hot. Noah’s muscular body is bad enough, but his dark hair and dark-brown eyes, along with his perfectly chiseled face is undoubtedly the universe playing a cruel joke on me.

  The way Noah’s eyes popped out of his head when he stared at my body parts sent my blood pumping, but his hand on my leg almost sent me over the edge, and I jumped because adrenaline surged through my body like electrical heat waves.

  And I’ve never felt anything like it.

  Get your head out of the gutter, Piper. He’s bad news.

  I put on my makeup and then scan the clothes in my closet. Hmmm...what to wear. He said casual.

  Opening my lingerie drawer, I quickly shut it and open my other drawer—my drawer that is reserved for special occasions.

  Picking through my stash, I decide on a white-lace thong and matching bra. While I’m not super busty, I’m not tiny, either. The bra creates more cleavage than I’m used to but also is see-through, and every inch of my breasts is on display.

  Checking myself out in the mirror, I decide my extra effort was worth it.

  Eat your heart out, Noah Parker.

  My phone rings. I half expect it to be Noah, ready to bark some orders at me, but it’s Vivian.

  “Hey, girl! Don’t forget, nine o’clock.”

  My gut drops. I’m supposed to go dancing with the girls tonight. “Shoot! Viv, I’m so sorry, but my boss is making me work tonight.”

  “What? It’s Friday! Since when does Bennett make his staff work on Friday night?”

  I almost tell her about Noah but decide not to. “I’m sorry. I’ll try to get there if I can.”

  “I’ll save you a spot on the dance floor.”

  “Well, I injured my knee today, so it may be better if I don’t hit the dance floor tonight.”

  “What happened?”

  I fill Vivian in on how I hurt myself. “Honestly, Viv, I am not sure how long I’ll be at work tonight. I’ll try my best.”

  “Okay. Tell Bennett he’s getting mean in his old age.”

  “Will do.” I hang up and continue to get ready, finally settling on a twirly pink skirt and white shirt that shows off a bit of cleavage. The outfit is borderline casual, but it won’t appear like I’m trying too hard. Stepping over to the mirror, I do a final assessment.

  Not too bad. Eat your heart out, Noah Parker.

  My phone beeps, and I read the text message. “My driver is downstairs waiting for you.”

  He sent his driver?

  “Isn’t that an invasion of HR rules? Stealing my address?”

  “It’s in the company directory. And it’s so you don’t fall and break your other knee.”

  I laugh to myself. Just to get under his skin, I respond, “I’m fine. I can walk.”

  “The car’s waiting out front. Don’t forget your laptop.”

  I peer out the window, and, sure enough, a black car is parked outside my front door. The clock reads 5:40.

  “You said six.”

  “That’s correct.”

  “Little eager, aren’t you?” It only takes me five minutes to leisurely stroll to work, never mind drive.

  “Sorry. Forgot you’re a person who arrives late.”

  “And you’re back to being a dickhead.”

  “I only speak the truth.”

  “I’m never late. Today was a one-off. Ask anyone.”

  “Don’t need to. I can assess people and how seriously they take their responsibilities when I meet them.”

  Okay, now I’m pissed. “I’m sure I take my responsibilities way more seriously than you do, Mr. Trust Fund Baby,” I shoot off just as I received, “BTW, I’m just kidding.”

  Shit! I shouldn’t have said that.

  He doesn’t respond.

  Feeling guilty, I sling my purse and laptop bag over my shoulder and head downstairs to where his driver is waiting. When I open the door, the smell of Thai food hits my nostrils, and I’m surprised to find Noah sitting in the car with takeout bags.

  He’s wearing jeans and a gray T-shirt that’s hugging his rock-hard torso and arms. My insides pulse.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask in confusion.

  “They don’t deliver.”

  “So, why didn’t you pick somewhere else?”

  “Because this is what you wanted.”

  My heart rate speeds up a bit more. I nonchalantly reply, “You could have picked a different place. It’s just Thai.”

  In his emotionless voice, Noah says, “I just moved here. I don’t know what’s good and what’s not.”

  “When did you move?”

  “Two weeks ago.”

  “Where from?” I ask like I don’t know.

  “New York.”

  “Been partying it up for a few weeks?” I tease.

  He very seriously states, “No. I’ve been working.”

  I roll my eyes. I highly doubt he’s been locked away working.

  “Why did you just roll your eyes at me?”

  I shrug. The conversation ends and it doesn’t take long before the car pulls up to the curb of Bennett Parker.

  As Noah and I enter the building, Bennett is leaving.

  “Piper? Noah? What are you two doing this late on a Friday night?”

  “We’re going to review the projects,” Noah tells him.

  “Noah, I keep telling you that you can’t work all the time. It’s Friday night. You’re young. Go enjoy life,” Bennett instructs then turns to me. “Piper, don’t let Noah’s bad work habits wear off on you.”

  Either Noah really does work a lot and I’m wrong about him, or he has Bennett really fooled.

  Bennett frowns at Noah. “We talked about this, Noah.”

  What is he talking about?

  Noah shifts uncomfortably and takes a deep breath.

  I don’t know why I do it, but I put my hand on Bennett’s arm. “It’s my fault, Bennett. I went home early because of my knee, and I wanted to get up to speed before Monday. I feel a little discombobulated having all my projects taken away from me before finishing them.”

  “I can understand that, Piper, but it’s Friday night.”

  “Don’t worry. I made Noah buy me my favorite food. He even picked it up since they don’t deliver.” I wink at Bennett.

  Bennett chuckles. “Okay. Well, promise me you two won’t work all night.”

  “Won’t happen. I have plans with my friends later,” I tell Bennett, and I think I see Noah’s face drop, but I’m not sure because as quick as it’s there, it’s gone.

  Bennett finally seems okay with the story and leaves.

  As soon as he’s out the door, Noah asks, “Why did you lie to Bennett?”

  I shrug. “I don’t know, but I never have before so don’t get used to it.”

  He nods. “Well, thanks.”

  I shrug again and press the button for the elevator.

  The doors open and we get in. He pops in a code on the panel, and the elevator doors soon open up to the top floor. Noah steps into the small corridor and opens a gray door. I freeze inside the elevator.

  He brought me to his house?

  “Piper?”

  “Is this your house?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Why are we here?”

  “I don’t like to work in the office after hours. Sorry, is this a problem? We can go downstairs if you want to.” He scans my eyes.

  I step off the elevator. “No
, it’s fine.”

  “Okay, well, get comfy, then.” Noah roams through the penthouse and puts the food down on the table.

  The penthouse overlooks Lake Michigan and has top-of-the-line everything in it. It seems brand new. “This is a nice place.”

  “Thanks. I just had it remodeled.”

  Probably with your trust-fund money.

  Noah take out plates, silverware, and bottles of water and sets them on the table.

  I sit down at the table, wincing as my knee bends.

  “Piper, you’re bleeding.”

  I glance down and turn my head at the sight of my blood.

  “I take it you’re not a fan of blood?”

  “Nope.”

  “Hold on a minute.” Noah leaves the room and comes back with a gigantic red first aid kit.

  “Jeez. Worried about getting hurt much?”

  He chuckles.

  I realize I like his laugh and want to hear more of it.

  Noah comes back into the kitchen and washes his hands with soap then returns, opens the kit, removes some cleaning pads, gauze, spray, and skin glue, and kneels on the floor. Holding both my legs, he removes my shoes.

  “Why are you doing that?”

  His face is tipped down. “Just hold on a minute,” he mumbles and puts both my legs together then presses my shins, calves, and feet.

  Inhaling sharply, I ask, “Noah, what are you doing?”

  “Making sure your leg isn’t infected.”

  “I’m not understanding.”

  “Checking for swelling.” He pushes his thumbs into the side of my lower knee.

  “Ouch!”

  His head jerks up. “Sorry. You have a lot of swelling, Piper.” Opening one of the cleaning pads, Noah wipes up my blood, and I wince.

  “Sorry. I’m honestly not trying to hurt you.”

  “I believe you aren’t...this time,” I tease.

  After cleaning me up, he picks up the bottle and sprays my wound. Bringing his lips only a few inches from my flesh, he blows on it gently.

  Against my will, a low groan comes out of me as tiny shivers run up my spine.

  Oh my God! Did I seriously just groan?

  His dark orbs sizzle into mine, and we both freeze as his breath becomes heavier.

  Breaking out of our trance, he opens the skin glue. “Sorry, but this is going to hurt.” He pushes the two sides of my gash together.

  “Ah!” I about come off the chair, but Noah holds my flesh together with one hand and puts his other on my upper thigh to steady me.

  Although I’m in pain, volts of electricity shoot through my sex from his palm on my thigh.

  I’m breathing hard, and he probably thinks it’s from pain, but it’s not. It’s from him.

  He draws away, picks up the glue, and applies it to my laceration then goes back to blowing air on me, and it’s official. I’m drenched and slightly quivering inside.

  Noah wraps my knee up in gauze and studies my face. I wait for him to speak, but he doesn’t. He finally stands, and, in one swoop, picks me up off the chair.

  My arms automatically go around his shoulders, and his scent wafts into my cells.

  I’m praying he’s taking me to his bedroom, but instead, he lays me down on his couch.

  Okay, you can just fuck me here.

  I’m still holding onto his shoulders, and our faces are inches apart. My pulse is beating so fast it’s about to pop out of my neck.

  He gulps hard. “You need to ice and elevate your leg.”

  I scan his eyes and slowly release my arms from around him.

  Noah stands, takes the pillow at the end of the couch, and puts it under my injured limb. His fingers linger just a bit before he pulls away. “Let me get you an ice pack.”

  “Okay, thanks,” I manage to get out.

  What is happening here? Where is the asshole?

  Digging back into his first aid kit, he pulls out a large ice pack, folds it in half, twists it in his hands, and puts a cover over it before wrapping it around my knee.

  Noah returns to the kit, grabs a packet and my bottle of water, and returns to me. Opening the packet up first, he then hands me two pills and my water. “Take this, Piper. You need it for the inflammation.”

  “What is it?”

  “Ibuprofen.”

  I take them and pop them in my mouth as Noah turns back into the kitchen. He finds a tray then pulls my meal out of the bag, and makes me a plate of dinner. After he sets the tray over my lap, he surveys the room, leaves, then comes back with a pillow and props it behind my back. “Comfy?” he asks me.

  Biting my lip, I nod. “Thanks.”

  He winks at me, which turns my insides into Jell-O, picks up his food, and sits with his legs like a pretzel on the floor in front of me.

  I laugh. “You don’t have to sit on the floor.”

  Taking a bite of food, he shrugs.

  “If I ask you something, will you give me an honest answer?”

  He sternly states, “Yes. I don’t lie.”

  “Why do you have such a big first aid kit? It’s like something a paramedic would have.”

  “Because I was a paramedic.”

  I choke on my food.

  He jumps up, rubs my back then hands me my water.

  I take a sip.

  “You okay?”

  I tilt my head. “Are you lying to me?”

  “No.”

  “Why were you a paramedic?”

  “What’s wrong with that?”

  “Nothing, nothing at all. I just don’t understand.”

  Why does a trust fund kid become a paramedic?

  “You don’t understand what?”

  Suddenly, I feel really nervous. I have this notion that I’ve made a massive assumption about him that isn’t correct.

  “Piper?” He’s waiting for me to answer, his eyebrows raised in question. I realize his hand is still on my back.

  Finally, I just blurt it out. “Why does a rich kid become a paramedic?”

  Noah takes his hand off my back. “I never said I was a rich kid.”

  4

  Noah

  “But—”

  “But what?” I shoot daggers at her.

  “I don’t understand,” she repeats.

  Anger bubbles in me. “You don’t understand that I’ve actually earned everything I have? Is that it?”

  She can’t seem to find her words.

  I’m suddenly no longer hungry, and I snatch my plate off the floor and take it to the kitchen, scrape it in the trash, rinse it in the sink, and load it in the dishwasher.

  Collecting the bags and other trash from the kitchen table, I throw it away then pack up the first aid kit. I toss a few ice packs on the table then shut the kit and haul it back to my bedroom closet shelf where I store it.

  You need to calm down, Noah. It’s not her fault what happened, and that’s what really is upsetting you. She just thinks the same thing everyone else in the company does.

  She should be smarter than to make assumptions.

  What are you doing anyway? You’re supposed to be working, so go work.

  I return to the main living area, and she’s putting her plate in the dishwasher.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Cleaning up.”

  The trash can is full of her food. Shit. Way to be a douchebag, Noah. “You didn’t eat.”

  “I’m not hungry anymore.”

  “You need to ice your leg. Get your laptop and go back to the couch.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “No, you’re not. Go.” I point to the sofa.

  “Don’t tell me what to do.”

  I almost throw out another dickhead, “I’m your boss” remark, but, for whatever reason, I don’t. We just both scowl at each other.

  She finally picks up her laptop bag and sits back on the couch. I follow, swing her lower body on the cushions and reposition the ice pack, trying to avoid thinking about her perfect legs. I grab my compu
ter.

  To torture myself, I take the seat next to her feet. I’m so tempted to pick them up and suck her toes, but I find the strength to hold back.

  Once my computer is up, I send her a link to a Google Drive shared folder. “I just emailed you a link.”

  She rapidly types.

  Her skirt has been driving me batty since she sauntered out of her apartment building. Easy access. Her shirt is white, which makes me believe she’s wearing a white bra, which makes me think of innocence, which she definitely isn’t. And her cleavage is just enough to make me want to run my finger down it...and my tongue.

  The alarm I set for her ice pack rings.

  Against my better judgment, I slide my hand from her toes, up to her knee, and toss the ice pack on the floor before placing my hand back on her leg.

  Fuck. I’m probably going down for sexual harassment. She’s going to be the death of my career.

  She jumps slightly and I almost laugh from my nerves.

  “Did you get the email with the link?”

  “Yes. What do you want me to open first?”

  “The spreadsheet,” I instruct her, and her hazel orbs light up.

  Jeez, don’t go creaming your panties over my spreadsheet. Or maybe you should cream your panties over my spreadsheet. Noah, stop!

  She opens it up, and I wait for her to respond. Let’s see if she is as smart as everyone claims she is.

  As she takes it all in, I watch her face, waiting for her reaction. Slowly, confusion fills her face. “These are all smaller drug companies. They are barely profitable, and we don’t have any experience in pharmaceuticals. I don’t get it.”

  “Yep.”

  “Why?”

  “Why not?”

  She gapes at me. “You don’t think there needs to be something more than just a ‘why not’?”

  “Something more?” Yes, there’s something more, but I’m not going to tell you that.

  “Yes, something more.”

  “Nope.”

  She tilts her head and squints at me. “You could destroy any one of these companies without the right experience.”

  Okay, she is way smarter than anyone gives her credit for, not just me. I shrug.

  She sits up straighter and closes her laptop. “Why?”

  I just stick to the same line. She thinks I’m just a rich kid who’s had it all handed to him anyway. “Big potential if it pans out.”

  “And if it doesn’t?”