Page 22 of Pleasure Control

Jay grinned at her. “That’s my Laura. The brilliant one.”

The brilliant one.

Not the sexy one.

Or the hot one.

Or the one he wanted to take to bed again, strip naked, tie up, and run his tongue all over until…Oh boy!

Veronica piped in and helped her purify her thoughts, jostling her back to the present.

“Come on, Reggie, you know the rules, no shop talk. And you’re needed at the barbecue,” she cooed.

Reggie, as his wife so lovingly nicknamed him, draped his arm around Veronica’s shoulder, turned his back to them, and tossed the words over his shoulder, “I expect that report on my desk before the board meeting.”

When they stepped away, out of earshot, Jay leaned in and whispered, “How

does a pit bull like him get a pussycat like her?”

Laura shrugged. “Beats me.”

A sexy grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Maybe he keeps her topped up with libido enhancer,” he teased. “It’s amazing what that stuff will do to a person.”

Laura swallowed. “Yeah, real amazing,” she agreed, forcing a smile. Her stomach lurched and then growled. She knew all too well how powerful the enhancer could be. So did Jay.

“Are you hungry?”

It was as good an explanation as any for her rumbling tummy. “Yes.” She jumped at the switch in subject, not wanting him to know the real reason her insides twisted.

Laura turned her attention to Erin as she opened the patio doors and stepped outside. She’d changed into a bright yellow one-piece swimsuit that accentuated her gorgeous curves. With a wave of her hand, Laura motioned for her to come over.

Jay stood and cocked a questioning brow. “The usual?” he questioned in a soft tone. “Hot dog, just mustard?”

“Yeah, thanks.” Her heart tightened with his thoughtfulness. God, he was so adorable. As he walked away, he dragged her focus with him.

Erin slipped into the chair beside her. Her voice broke Laura’s concentration. “How’s your boyfriend?”

Laura’s chin came up a notch. She gritted her teeth. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Well, you want him to be, don’t you?” she teased.

Laura rolled her eyes. “What are you, twelve?”

Erin chuckled and stretched out her legs. “Heads up, Laura, crouton alert two o’clock.”

Laura glanced up to see Max Baker coming her way. He adjusted his glasses and swiped his hand through puffy blond curls that reminded Laura of dandelion fluff.

“Be nice, Erin,” Laura warned. “You shouldn’t call people names.”

Before Max reached her, the director blocked his path and engaged him in conversation. From the intent look on Reginald’s face, Laura surmised it was a very important topic.

Erin shrugged. “It’s not my fault he has the personality of a soggy crouton.” She paused, got quiet for a moment—a rarity for her—and then as an afterthought added, “Or the breath of an open coffin.” She threw her hands up in the air. “And why the hell doesn’t he get a haircut? He looks like a damn chia pet.”

Laura stifled a chuckle. “Erin…shh…he’s going to hear you.” She reached out and swatted Erin’s thigh.

Erin shook her head in dismay. “I take it back, Laura.”

“You take what back?”

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