Read Online The Geek Gets The Girl by Michele Hauf - Free Book Online Page A

you’ve got a little Elvis in you.” She slicked her fingers through his hair to give him a bit of a ducktail coif in the front. His dark, harsh features smirked. “I want you.”
    He responded with a thrust of his hips against her lusciously aching mons. “I need you,” he sang out boldly. “I love you.”
    “Wait!” Rachel’s brain flashed like some kind of nuclear cloud going off. “That’s it!”
    Tugging out of the man’s grasp, she toppled backward and almost fell over a stack of boxes, but managed to catch herself against the desk. Picking up her skirt, she swung around the side of the desk to land on her chair. Shirt open and breasts exposed, she grabbed a pen and paper and started sketching.
    “Inspiration?” the sated man on the couch wondered. 
    She glanced up, and in those brief seconds, saw his perspiring chest strapped with gorgeous muscle, his satisfied grin that never grew too big, and that sneaky hard-on that was ready for round two. Oh, sex on a stick, how he served her creativity.
    “He’s singing to her,” she announced with creative glee. “He’s seducing her. And she’s mirroring him.” She tapped the pen against her lips. “Singing back!”
    “You’re leaving me high and dry here, Rachel.”
    She swished the pen in the air before her in a conductor’s move. “Sing it again.”
    “Sing? Really?”
    “Please?”
    He broke into the lines from the Elvis song, ending with a crooning, “I love you.”
    “But you don’t really love me,” she felt the need to interject curtly. “That’s just lyrics, right?”
    He nodded. But did he wince at the end?
    “Good.” Some things a woman needed clarified. Love was not on the table. It couldn’t be. Could it? “He’s singing, and she is, too…” She drew an empty thought bubble above the sketch of the woman Amelie had drawn. “But she’s thinking about the shoes!”
    She had it. The ad campaign. And she had Zac to thank for it.
     
     
    Chapter 9
     
    The hotel room felt a little less vacant this morning, despite the fact that Rachel was not lying in the bed all sex-tousled and content. She’d wanted to go home alone last night after their office tryst, and Zac hadn’t argued. Too much. She’d said something about keeping him at bay.
    Really? Was she playing hard to get?
    It was working. 
    Of course, she’d also mentioned the campaign and didn’t think she’d sleep a wink. He had been the one to spur her creative epiphany, and he patted himself on the back for that. His cock had never served a more useful purpose.
    He leaned forward, inspecting his fresh shave job in the bathroom mirror. He always nicked his earlobe, but today not a speck of blood. Interesting. Must be due to how relaxed he was feeling. Almost as if the world had suddenly fallen into order.
    But not completely.
    He wanted to look good when he walked into Rachel’s office today. Because he intended to confess all. It had to be done.
    “Just like ripping off a Band-Aid,” he muttered.
    Hell, the smart move would be to break it off and let her stand tall and grant her the promotion she deserved. A promotion befitting her talents. He’d walk away. And when given all the necessary support, the Paris Haute Heels office would thrive under Rachel’s control.
    But he didn’t like that version because it meant he’d have to walk away from the girl.
    So, after his confession, he’d try to make it work. Because he was falling for the woman. Hell, he’d tripped and landed in her arms, and didn’t want to struggle free. He just had to cross his fingers she could hear him after he told her who he really was.
    *
    Amelie followed Rachel down the aisle toward the office with her usual armload of files and message slips. She kept starting to tell Rachel something, but Rachel continued to shush her. She needed to get to her coffee and then she could settle in and listen to the days’ forthcoming scheduled disasters.
    “It’s urgent,” Amelie tried.
    Rachel