NeedMe

by Cari Quinn

  “You’re one-of-a-kind. With mind-blowing powers of self-restraint.”

  Only the genuine affection in his tone saved him from yet another eye roll. “I enjoyed myself. Enjoyed you. Loving Tony doesn’t mean I’m blind or dumb. It just means I’ve decided that committing to him, all the way, is sexier than going for extra whipped cream and nuts. If you get me.”

  “I do. And I’m glad. It was just extra insurance. Though once I got you there, I couldn’t resist going for the gold with you.”

  “Yeah, I noticed. I’ll be walking stooped over for a week.”

  Wolfishly, he licked his lips. Needless to say, he didn’t look the least bit apologetic. “You have one hell of an ass. I heard the angels sing. Or maybe Satan howled. Hard to say for sure, since I lost my hearing.”

  Only Cale could talk about anal sex and manage to make it sound like a compliment of the highest order. “Thank you. May I quote you in the front flap of my book?” She grinned. “Will add weight that I know of what I speak. And speaking of in-depth knowledge, would you be willing to give me some insight on BDSM?”

  He didn’t appear to hear her. “Nothing went as I planned last night,” he said, still idly stroking her thigh. “And I caught myself in my own trap.”

  He stared off into the distance while she chewed on her lip and searched for something to say. She wasn’t used to Cale looking so unsure. Was it what had happened last night? That scene in the dungeon had been extreme, at least in her world if not his.

  Maybe he could use a distraction. Interviewing him for her book would be perfect. He always enjoyed talking about sex and he clearly had more clue than she did on that particular area of expertise. Or she could interview his submissive.

  Except the brunette wasn’t his submissive. They weren’t anyone to each other. Just strangers. So there was no reason to worry about him or his sexual practices. He was a big boy and could take care of himself.

  What she should be doing was convincing him to add his valuable input to the Marcia Galvin Daly advice empire, rather than focusing on aspects he could handle just fine on his own. She knew damn well he’d do his own thing regardless of her fretting.

  If she were a fretter. Which, of course, she wasn’t.

  “What trap, Cale?” she asked gently.

  “There’s no easy way to say this.”

  A tickle vibrated in the back of her throat. A minute ago she’d been concerned about him. But what if the problem was her? “Yes, there is. Straight out.”

  “Tony went to talk to her today. The woman from last night.” More stroking, with the sides of his fingers now. “That drama with Kelly and her PDA last year at the store made Tony feel guilty about his involvement. He recriminated himself to death.”

  Tony was such a sweetheart. Completely baffling to her sometimes but sweet just the same. “Kelly was fine. She didn’t hold a grudge about anything that went down. Besides, she got what she wanted—also known as my brother—so where was the harm in having a little fun? So we enjoyed a few laughs at her expense.” She shrugged. “Risk you run when you have a list of men you want to fuck. That should stay strictly mental.”

  He didn’t smile. “You know Tony. He felt as if he behaved immaturely and this time he’s going to keep everything aboveboard.”

  “That’s all well and good but isn’t it your place to talk to the woman you were…cropping or whatever the hell it’s called?” She knew damn well it wasn’t called cropping but he looked too serious and she wanted to make him grin.

  No dice.

  Cale glanced away, his lips firm and unyielding. “I’m not ready to go there. It’s too awkward. For chrissakes, how do you tell someone you were part of a scene with them the night before when they were blindfolded? She had no say in who touched her.”

  “I got the impression she didn’t want to have a say. Isn’t that why she was blindfolded and facedown on the table?”

  “Still. It makes a difference, especially when—”

  “What?” she asked sharply, cold tentacles she recognized as fear unmercifully gripping her spine. “God, would you just tell me? I can fucking take it.”

  Dark hair flashed into her mind, that waterfall of it spread over creamy shoulders. Long fingers tipped in blood-red nails. And the crack of the crop that only intensified her moans.

  All at once the reality of the situation slammed home. Her boyfriend was privately meeting with a woman he’d seen practically naked the night before. One hell of a hot, kinky woman no less. He must’ve talked to her, arranged to meet her today. Was her lover even now cozied up with her at some corner restaurant table, making sure she was okay? How had he gotten her information? Worse, did he already know her?

  “Tony’s talking to her and then he’s going to tell you who she is.” Cale curled her suddenly stiff fingers into his palm. “He wouldn’t ever keep something this big from you, Blondie.”

  “Who was she?” she whispered.

  He swallowed, hard. “It was Diana.”

  * * * * *

  Tony swallowed over the dryness in his mouth and lifted his hand to knock on Diana’s office door. This would not be a fun conversation. Unfortunately it was one he intended to have. If Cale didn’t want to say anything, he had to because he wasn’t about to lie to Marsh for any reason. This way Diana would have a heads-up.

  If she moved fast, she might even have enough time to get out of the state before Marcia blew her cover. Or put out a hit on her.

  “Come in.”

  He strode inside and remained standing though she motioned for him to sit. “I’m going to close the door,” he said, not waiting for her to respond before doing so.

  “If you have a problem with the new payroll deduction, see Lucy.”

  “This isn’t a problem with payroll. It’s a personal matter.”

  “Okay.” Diana leaned back in her highback chair, impeccable as always in a slate-blue suit with her dark hair in an elegant updo. If he hadn’t been paying such close attention, he might’ve missed her wince as she shifted in her chair.

  No wonder. Those welts on her ass had to sting.

  “Go ahead, Antonio,” she prompted.

  She always called him Antonio. Never Tony. And now he was going to tell her he’d seen her naked and submitting to his best friend in front of a crowd? Was he nuts?

  He had to get out of here before he risked his job. But if he walked, she’d have no warning about Marcia. He wouldn’t hide the truth from his girl, no matter who it would hurt. She was his first priority and she deserved his loyalty, boss or no boss.

  “Did you have a nice vacation?” he asked rather than what he’d intended to say.

  “It was lovely, thank you.”

  “When did you get back?”

  “Late last night,” she replied, every word clipped as if she didn’t have the time to waste on more syllables.

  “Oh, really? Where did you go? On your vacation,” he added.

  “Out of town.” She smoothed a hand down the lapel of her jacket and eyed him coolly. Another moment and she’d be all the way to cold. “Did you have something you wanted to discuss?”

  “This is hard to say,” he said, fingering his tie. She might be cucumber cool but he couldn’t stay still. “Actually it’s probably one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to tell someone.”

  Instead of looking concerned, Diana lifted a folder and began riffling through it as if she were bored. “Whenever you’re ready.”

  Fuck it. Fast was best. “I saw you at Kink last night.”

  She didn’t look up from her papers. Her hand never trembled. But a scuffling noise came from beneath the desk, as if she’d dragged her heel over the rug. “You’re mistaken. I was out of town, as I said.”

  “You said you got back last night.”

  “Yes, very late.” She tilted her head and pursed her lips, but not before he saw the twitch in her jaw. ”Whatever Kink is, I can assure you I wasn’t there.”

  “I saw the tattoo,�
� he said softly, caught between feeling for her and wondering when her vaunted control would break. “In the small of your back. It’s a blue butterfly. Last year at the company picnic, you bent over to pick up a soda out of the cooler and I saw it. You tried to cover it with makeup, I think, but sweat probably—” He broke off, shook his head. “Look, I know it was you.”

  “What is Kink?” she repeated, sparing him a glance as icy as the sudden blast of air-conditioning from the vent behind him.

  “You know exactly what it is. Christ, you know better than I do.” Compared to her, he’d been a damn newbie to that scene, but he’d do the dance. She could only deny the truth for so long. “It’s a sex club. Where people go to drink and dance and have a good time, with and without their clothes.”

  “That’s where you go when you’re not at work?”

  Diana’s derisive tone didn’t offend him, not when she’d clamped her fingers around her folder in a white-knuckled grip. Any fool could see he had her on the ropes. “Twice. I went with my friend and my girlfriend.”

  Her face seemed to collapse in on itself, every ounce of her composure draining away until her blue eyes were hollow pools. “Marcia.”

  “Yes. That’s why I’m here. Because she’s going to find out and I don’t have any idea what she’s going to do. She won’t tell me why she hates you.”

  “I slept with her brother.” Diana’s flat voice matched her wooden expression.

  “Okay.” Spencer, presumably. Adam was a bit out of her age range, though that didn’t mean much. “And?”

  “I was married.”

  “So I’m guessing things ended badly.”

  She gave him a tight-lipped smile. “You could say that. I became pregnant, went back to my husband. Then I lost the child.” She lifted one of her almost translucently pale hands and examined her manicure. “Spencer’s job was in jeopardy until I saved it. I made sure he was taken care of. I wasn’t just some bimbo who didn’t have any feelings for him. At the beginning, fine. But things changed. I left because of him.”

  Whoa. She must be really on the edge if she was admitting all of this to one of her lackeys. Though she certainly didn’t hesitate to get real personal with some of the other employees. “Did you come back because of him too?”

  Her eyes flashed, heat and life surging back into them. The contrast was startling. “What did she tell you?”

  “Nothing,” he said patiently. “She said it wasn’t her secret to tell.”

  “She has no idea what went down. How I felt. Does she think it was easy for me to walk in here, to see him with a younger model of me? How the hell did she think that made me feel? My husband had already moved on with someone else, and Spencer, he didn’t want me either. He wanted Kelly because she’s so young and open and innocent and I’m the older, brittle ex. Marcia has no goddamn clue what I dealt with.” Diana jerked to her feet, grimacing again. “But she will, with you. You’re going to move on soon enough and then she’ll know what it’s like to be discarded and replaced.”

  “I’m not moving on. I love her and I hope we’re going to have a life together.”

  He didn’t just hope. Dammit, he was going to make it happen.

  But Diana didn’t seem to hear him. “Who else was with you last night?”

  Tony shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back and forth on his heels. This definitely qualified as the most awkward, painful conversation ever. “The man who, ah…” Struck? Disciplined? “Whipped you. He’s my best friend.”

  She sucked in air. “Not the boy I always see you with here.”

  “For a boy, he certainly seemed to affect you.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “What’s the appeal, if you don’t mind me asking? Do you get off on pain?”

  Oh great, just the question he needed to be asking his boss. But he’d already stepped off the earth into surreality so why not go all the way?

  Again she flicked him a dismissive glance. He was surprised her eyelashes weren’t starred with frost. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand. But you weren’t supposed to be there. None of you were. It was so late. I always make sure I never arrive before—” She pressed her lips together as if to stop herself from saying anything more. She’d already said plenty. “Now that you’ve delivered your message, you can go.”

  Nodding, he turned for the door. He’d done his duty here, regardless of how it had been received. What happened between Marcia and Diana beyond this point wasn’t his concern, other than what he would need to do to support the woman he loved.

  “Under ordinary circumstances I would say thank you for telling me,” Diana said to his back, “but I think you just may have ruined my life.”

  “I didn’t ruin it.” He glanced back, considered her for a moment. Whatever Diana’s faults—and apparently they were legion—the obvious mask of strain she wore stirred his pity.

  Marcia defended her family like a tigress. When she learned this latest tidbit about Diana, he could only imagine what she would do.

  He almost felt sorry for Diana. Almost, but not quite.

  “One piece of advice,” he said softly. “Maybe you ought to take the time to learn the boy’s name. Just in case.”

  With that, he shut the door.

  * * * * *

  “He keeps leaving messages. What should I do?”

  Marcia rubbed the knot of pressure in her forehead and prayed for serenity. Today had been a six-Advil day and it wasn’t over yet.

  “That depends on you. You’re certain you don’t want to see him again?”

  “We have nothing in common. He’s Mr. Big Shot and I’m a bakery manager. Why would he want to see me again?”

  Leigh’s protests had gotten weaker. Had Adam somehow wormed his way into her psyche after all?

  “Your rack,” Marcia said, tired of playing games. Tired of being nice. The bitch inside her wanted to rage against God and country, pound her chest and cry her eyes out. Three things she wouldn’t do.

  “That makes sense,” Leigh said thoughtfully, spurring a laugh Marcia hadn’t anticipated.

  “Kid, you confuse the hell out of me. Adam’s leaving town in a couple days. Bone him and presto, your orgasm problem will be solved. You won’t have to ever see him again.”

  “You’re really sure he can deliver in that department?”

  “Want me to offer a money-back guarantee?”

  “Okay, what the hell. I’ll call him back. Maybe he won’t be so annoying tonight. And I do still have a problem.”

  “Don’t we all,” Marcia muttered, not wanting to hear any more about Leigh’s lack of orgasms or her brother’s potential at providing them. “Good luck. And please, for the love of all that’s holy, do not call me again unless I tell you otherwise.”

  Instead of taking offense, Leigh laughed. “Can I have your email address?”

  “No. Good night. And good luck.” Marcia smiled as she clicked off.

  The smile faded immediately as she took in the state of her empty apartment. Her couch was littered with books and papers and more than one candy wrapper. She’d had a hell of a day. Along with suffering through a headache that wouldn’t die, she’d toiled through the beginning of her book. No matter what she tried, the words wouldn’t come. And now, it wasn’t only because she was severely intimidated by the blank page.

  Diana had sunk her talons into another man she loved. Goddamn it.

  She pressed her fingertips against her closed eyes and felt the nerves jump. What was she supposed to do? Step aside and let Cale do whatever he needed to? Beg him to stay far, far away from the heartless bitch who had ripped out her brother’s heart once then returned a second time to try to ruin his life?

  Spencer hadn’t told her exactly what had happened between him and Diana when she’d returned to town and he’d subsequently ended things with Kelly. It had been months later when Kelly had finally spilled the beans to Marcia about how Diana had held Spencer’s job over his head and demanded he sleep with her again to keep it
. How he’d tried to go through with it and hadn’t been able to.

  The wench had let him hold on to his job just the same but he’d lost months with Kelly. Eventually he’d walked away from the store altogether and he and Kelly were in a better place than they’d ever been. No thanks to Diana.

  And now she’d somehow managed to slide right into position with Cale.

  Marcia picked up the spiral notebook next to her hip. At a loss, she’d finally turned up the classic rock station and started writing freehand. Her laptop seemed to shut her down before she even got started. Something about using pen and paper had loosened the logjam inside her. Unfortunately the words that flowed hadn’t been the opener, but a later chapter about emotional intimacy.

  Day two of her rocking writing career and she was already breaking the rules about writing in order. Figured.

  It wasn’t half bad, she mused, rereading the pages she’d scrawled in her sloppy handwriting. She’d have fun deciphering some of her thoughts later, but it was a solid start. And if she’d been writing while thinking about her lover meeting with a woman she didn’t trust in any capacity whatsoever, well, maybe the chapter would benefit. When talking about the importance of connection during sex, it probably helped to be raw.

  She definitely qualified.

  The knock at her door didn’t make her jump. She’d been waiting for it, each muscle tensed and ready to spring. He would come. He’d said he would, and if she believed nothing else right now, she believed in Tony’s word.

  She rose and crossed the room then opened the door and let him in. Stepping back, she slid her hands in the kangaroo pocket of her pink sweatshirt and registered his expression of disbelief.

  “You own a sweatshirt?” His mouth didn’t gape but it was a close thing.

  “Of course. Doesn’t every woman own one?” She smiled weakly. “I just bought it today. Thought it was appropriate mope-wear.”

  His laughter as he drew her into his arms upended her world. The soft kiss he laid on her lips settled it. “Gotta say you’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen in cotton. But why are you moping?”

  She didn’t say anything, just waited while he tipped up her chin and peered into her eyes. At least he didn’t have a bright light. Not that he needed one. He always saw right through her. Just like now.