Trying to be utterly silent, Avery crept toward the sound, her ears straining. She heard another groan that appeared to come from Rowdy’s office. Maybe a radio? The creak of the wind outside?

Rowdy’s door stood ajar, when he usually kept it closed. Daring took her only so far, but never beyond common sense. Just in case someone had found a way in, Avery pushed 9-1-1 on her cell and put her thumb on the call button. Inching along the wall, she held her breath until she stood right beside the door.

“Yeah, that’s it.”

Recognizing Rowdy’s rough, whispered voice, Avery relaxed. Thinking he spoke on the phone, probably to one of his lady friends, she rolled her eyes, stepped around the door frame...

And her stomach did a free fall.

Slouched in the big padded chair behind his desk, his hands gripping the armrests, his blond head tipped back, Rowdy released another low groan, this one deeper, more gravelly. Avery saw him in profile, the large desk hiding most of his lower body—but not the top of the woman’s head moving over him, precisely in the general area of his lap.

Good God, she knew what they were doing; even an idiot wouldn’t misunderstand. Jealousy, hurt, resentment rose up to choke her. Avery wanted to move, she really did, but her feet stayed glued to the spot.

She wanted to look away, too, but...she didn’t.

Rowdy’s body went taut, straining, his expression bordering on acute pleasure. Then, with a final sound of repletion, he released a breath and eased again, his every muscle going lax. With a deep exhalation, he stroked the woman’s hair and said, “Ease up, honey, I’m spent.”

Oh. My. God.

Avery tried to swallow, but she couldn’t find any spit. She tried to close her eyes, but couldn’t even manage a blink.

On her knees before him, the redhead gave her own sound of satisfaction and slowly rose up over Rowdy’s thighs. “My turn.”

Whoa. No way did she want to hang around to witness that. Horrified, Avery shifted to sneak off—and the floor squeaked.

Rowdy’s gaze swung around to pinpoint her there in the doorway. His light brown eyes went from mellow satisfaction to razor-sharp focus. He didn’t straighten, didn’t take his big hand from the woman’s hair.

Maybe he didn’t even breathe.

Their gazes clashed for two heavy heartbeats before Avery got it together and lurched away. Heat scalded her face. Her heart punched against her ribs. Please don’t let him follow me. Please don’t.

From behind her, she heard Rowdy’s low curse, and then the high-pitched laughter of the woman.

No, no, no. Humiliation chased Avery to the front door. Once there, breathless in a confusing mix of emotions, she paused and glanced back over her shoulder.

No one followed. In fact, she could now hear the quiet conversation between Rowdy and the woman.

Fury tightened her chest and burned her eyes. Damn you, Rowdy Yates.

Forcing her chin up, Avery pushed through the door, out of the bar and away from the first man who’d interested her in over a year.

* * *

ROWDY FOUGHT THE urge to call Avery back, to chase after her and say...what? Sorry you busted me getting a blow job. Hardly. She’d annihilate him if he even tried.

He could tell her the truth. I wish it had been you on your knees instead. He snorted at the idiocy of that thought.

Avery already knew he wanted her. Hell, he’d been so open and up-front with her that his pursuit bordered on infatuation, as asinine as that seemed.

Growing uneasiness obliterated the pleasure from release. Damn it, he didn’t owe Avery any explanations. She was his employee. Period.

That’s how she wanted it.

But what if she didn’t come back?

No, he wouldn’t think that way. In the short time he’d known her, Avery had proved to have a backbone of iron, an overload of pride and possibly a chip on her shoulder bigger than the one he carried.

She’d be back, if for no other reason than to fry him with her disapproval.

Besides, she loved her job, and she was good at it. He checked his watch. Why was she here so early?

Whatever her reason, it didn’t matter. She had seen him, and that destroyed all the ground he’d gained with her. For a little while there, she’d been softening to him. Sort of.

Maybe not.

With Avery Mullins, it was hard to tell.

From the first time he’d spotted her in the bar, he’d wanted her. She had amazing red hair, a killer attitude and tons of energy contained in a petite and enticing body. Smart, savvy, observant.

And sexy as hell, though she denied that truth, just as she denied wanting him.

The contrast of her personal pride and work ethic, compared to where she chose to work—with him—intrigued Rowdy. He’d met her before buying the bar, back when it was no more than a dump filled with creeps and criminals. He still wasn’t sure if she’d factored into his desire to have the bar.

Eventually he’d win her over. He refused to accept any other outcome. But even to him, this current transgression looked bad.

The long, lonely night had ended, so he had no reason to continue lingering with...shit. What was her name?

Feeling the sting of Avery’s censure, even though she hadn’t stuck around to share it with him, Rowdy caught the woman’s arms and tugged her to her feet. “C’mon, honey. Fun’s over.”

“For you,” she complained, and tried to crawl into his lap.

“As I recall, you had your turn at least twice already.”

“At least.” She gave him a sultry, satisfied smile and rubbed up against him.