His arms locked around her waist, he looked down and smiled. “Really, gorgeous — we have got to stop meeting like this.”
Rachel’s breath left her body in a low steady stream. His lopsided grin was covered in a few days growth, and his hair fell forward in unruly black waves over the sides of his face as he towered over her. Wow, she breathed inwardly, and it occurred to her that the heat of his body would unglue her if she stayed in his arms any longer. Forcing herself to stand, she pulled away from him.
She found herself shaking the cobwebs out of her head as she looked at him … again.
“Do you just go to random coffee shops and wait for women to fall into your arms?”
Joe let out a throaty chuckle, deep and masculine. Rachel’s body ignited with tiny little sparks, and she fought to hold them down. “Not usually, but if you’re the one that keeps falling, I may have to look into a career change.”
And there was that lopsided grin again. Rachel wanted to groan just looking at him. She figured him to be six feet five, less than 300 pounds. Every single inch of Hottie McCoffeehouse was solid, and her eyes widened as he began to take his blazer off.
“What … what are you doing?”
“Huh,” he replied, oblivious to the fact that she was mentally undressing him, “Oh, you got my blazer with your frappe. I’m just going to get it off … ”
Rachel could’ve sworn the heavens had just opened up. Beneath the dark blazer he wore a white V-neck that fit him like a second skin, probably because of his size. With every movement of his well-muscled torso, the shirt threatened to tear at the seams.
Rachel averted her gaze, refusing to absorb any more of the raw sexual energy that seemed to ooze out of him. In any event, she’d have plenty to think about at the night job.
“I’m so sorry about that,” Rachel stammered, keeping her head down, “It’s a … it’s a nice blazer.”
Hottie McCoffeehouse grinned, finally appearing to tune into the way he was affecting Rachel.
“It’s all right,” he replied, placing a hand under her chin and looking her in the eye.
“Listen, that’s twice in less than a month that you’ve ended up in my arms. Don’t you think we should at least have dinner now?”
Rachel’s eyes widened as his touch burned her skin. It was insanely electric; could he feel it too? She stepped backward and away from him, blushing uncontrollably.
“Yeah,” Rachel spoke, slowly, “That’s probably not the best idea … but thank you for the offer, Mister … ?”
“Joe,” he smirked, allowing her to pull away, “Just call me Joe. And I’ll tell you what, if this happens again — ”
“If what happens again?” Rachel asked, “If I fall?”
Joe chuckled. “If you trip again, and I’m there to catch you, then you have to have dinner with me. Agreed?”
Rachel closed her eyes with a grin, opening them again to meet his gaze. “Fair enough, Joe.”
“I have a feeling I’ll be seeing you again,” he closed the gap between them.
Rachel tried to remain composed as he towered over her. “I’m sure you do, Joe.”
Joe smiled, seemingly amused by her refusal to react to his advances. He stared at her for a moment, his eyes darkening as a mischievous grin appeared on his face. The tiniest of growls escaped his parted lips, and Rachel’s breath caught in her throat. She nearly hit the floor.
Without another word, he turned and walked away. His pants looked fit to burst as his massive legs flexed with each stride. Every woman in the shop watched him leave, jaws dropped, and Rachel couldn’t help but fan herself after he was gone. She had no idea where on this planet Joe came from, but she couldn’t help but think that he was right — this would not be the last time she saw him.
Chapter Three
“I saw him again.”
“Who?”
“Hottie McCoffeehouse.”
Camille squealed with delight as they made their way around her kitchen, throwing breakfast together before each went to their respective jobs now that their ritual Sunday night pajama party had come to a close. Camille, tall and gorgeous, tied her long hair into a bun at the nape of her neck and placed a hand on her hip as Rachel blushed and let out a bashful giggle.
“I’m a little mad that you waited until the tail end of a sleepover to tell me this,” she teased. “How did it happen? Did you get his number?”
Rachel shook her head. “I fell … again. And he just happened to be there to catch me … again!”
Camille laughed. “You can’t be serious!”
“I wish I were joking,” Rachel answered with an embarrassed sigh, “but I suppose if anyone could be that much of a yutz in front of a hot guy, it would be me!”
“I can’t deny that. You’ve never been much of a player.”
“I don’t know how he does it,” Rachel answered, staring into a sizzling frying pan as she dropped eggs into it. “It’s like he sucks every bit of cool out of me, and then drips swagger. And I’m undone, Cami. It’s not fair!”
Camille laughed at Rachel’s dramatic display. “What’s his name?”
Rachel’s eyes nearly crossed as an image of him popped into her head. “Joe.”
“Joe,” Camille breathed as Rachel leaned onto the counter for support. “God, that’s masculine.”
Rachel spun to face Camille, a dreamy look on her face, as she whispered dramatically, “Ah, I know — ”
“Really, Rach. If he affects you like this, why don’t you just ask him for his number?”
Rachel shuddered. “It’s because he affects me like this! What am I gonna do with that much man?”
“Ride sidesaddle, I’d imagine,” Camille mused, smiling upwardly as she twirled a stray lock of hair on her fingers.
“Would you stop it,” Rachel laughed. “I’ve just been out of the game so long, I’m not sure I’ve got it in me to handle a guy like Joe. He’s got too much swagger, too much confidence … he’s way too hot, and he knows it.” Camille slapped her hands on the counter, making Rachel jump. “That’s it! I didn’t want to have to do this. But my brother Mike did a photo shoot for a guy looking for headshots, and he’s new in town. He wanted to set me up with him, but I’m already dating Mark. You’re going out with him.”
“With who?”
“Mike’s client, who else,” Camille insisted, “He’s single, you’re single … and you can use the practice.”
“Cami, I — ”
“Nothing doing,” Camille interrupted. “You’re meeting him. I’ll let you know the when and where later.”
Rachel gave a frustrated groan as she tilted the eggs onto a plate for Camille. With any luck, a blind date — awkward or not — might help get her mind off of Joe. Butterflies flapped furiously in her stomach as the ghost of his warm muscular embrace embedded itself in her memory.
• • •
Rachel huffed as she landed in her seat, the wheels pulling her back from her desk by a couple of inches. She tugged at the desk and her seat rolled forward, bringing her face to face with another manuscript with a sticky note attached to it. On the note, in big red letters were the words REJECT; this meant she was supposed to type a letter explaining to the author the manuscript “isn’t what Equinox Publishing is looking for, but we invite you to resubmit somewhere down the line.” Then she was supposed to wish the poor dejected writer the best of luck and offer answers to any questions he or she might have had later.
With a sigh, Rachel opened the manuscript. She hated this part of the job. Yet somehow, she got to see this more often than any other assistant or intern in the place. It seemed Michelle turned down everything that came across her desk. Rachel hadn’t seen her accept a single manuscript since starting at Equinox the month before. So much for being the champion of the unpublishe
d writer, Rachel thought with a shake of her head. Silently apologizing to the manuscript, she opened its pages to at least familiarize herself with the “little book that wouldn’t” before tossing it in the shredder.
An hour later, she’d forgotten where she was. Rachel looked up dazedly, realizing she had already gotten a third of the way through the packet. She blinked rapidly, ridiculously wondering where its source of power had come from. The manuscript was well written, charming, witty, and more of a page-turner than any of the manuscripts she’d seen since she’d been hired. Once again confused by Michelle’s rejection, she looked to the cover for the author’s name. AJ Pavon. She traced over the name with one slender fingertip. Well played! The idea that this would never see a bookstore shelf made her sad; without thinking, she rose and marched over to Michelle’s office.
Standing in Michelle’s doorway, she clutched the manuscript to her chest as she waited for the junior editor to address her.
“Yes, Rachel,” Michelle acknowledged, not looking up. “What is it?”
Rachel took a few steps forward, tugging at the door and letting it slide closed behind her. She placed the manuscript gently on Michelle’s desk. “I just had a few question about this manuscript.”
Michelle gave it a quick glance before turning back to her computer screen. “What’s to ask? It’s a reject.”
“Well, that’s my question,” Rachel replied, “Why is it a reject?”
“It’s not what we’re looking for,” she answered matter-of-factly.”
Rachel raised an eyebrow. “But this manuscript is amazing. The plot points are solid and smart, and the main character is the kind of guy the reader will get behind. What else are you looking for?”
“Vampires,” Michelle answered flatly as she stared at her computer screen, “werewolves, centaurs. I want something supernatural, something extraordinary. I don’t want this one. Let Random House take him.”
Rachel peeked over the desk to get a glimpse of what Michelle couldn’t seem to tear herself away from. Really, now — Facebook? Rachel rolled her eyes. “You know Random House won’t take him. His query letter stated that he’s virtually unpublished, and he has no agent.”
Michelle finally looked Rachel in the eye, her voice flat as she held her stare. “Not my problem.”
“This is a bestseller, Michelle,” Rachel spoke firmly, “and you’re throwing it away.”
Michelle scoffed. “A bestseller? What do you know about bestsellers, rookie? Lucy wouldn’t even want this piece of crap.”
She picked it up between her two fingers as if it were something old and smelly, and tossed it off the edge of her desk. Rachel caught it before it fell in a heap on the floor. Flattening the pages, she challenged Michelle’s satisfied stare.
“Have you even shown this to Lucy?”
Michelle’s demeanor changed quickly. For a brief moment, Rachel could’ve sworn that she’d seen a flash of fear in her junior editor’s eyes. Suddenly, Michelle looked angry — offended, even. She stood slowly, placing her hands on the desk before leaning across it aggressively.
“You listen here, Sirianni,” she hissed so that only Rachel could hear, “I let you read my rejects because it’s the kind of experience that you wouldn’t get with any of the other editorial staff. You’re not here to go over my work. You’re here to type my letters and get my coffee, understand? And if you even think for a moment that you’re going to go over my head with anything, I’ll see to it that you never become an editor. Get the picture?”
Rachel glared at Michelle, still clutching the manuscript. “I’m going to lunch,” Rachel grumbled before walking out of the office, leaving the door wide open. Seething, she walked back to her cubicle and grabbed her shoulder bag. Rachel stuffed the manuscript in and left her desk, taking long strides toward the elevator. She certainly did have a good mind to bring the manuscript to Lucy! But not out of anger, she reminded herself as she took a deep breath. She was about to walk past the reception desk when Amy stopped her.
“Hey, are you all right?” Amy asked with a look of concern. “Your face is bright red!”
Rachel sighed, fanning her face. “I’m fine. It’s just — ”
“Mm, I know,” Amy replied, leaning forward. “Her last assistant is my roommate. He mentioned she wasn’t the easiest person to work with.”
Rachel huffed as she pressed the button for the elevator. “That’s an understatement.”
“Just be careful,” Amy warned.
“What do you mean?”
“She’s sneaky, Rach. Michelle knows how to turn situations around so that she looks like the victim.”
Rachel nodded and turned toward the elevator. The door opened with a “ping” and Amy cleared her throat. Rachel turned to face her.
“Michelle accidentally pressed the intercom button. I heard the whole thing.”
Rachel’s eyes widened, and Michelle continued, “Like I said, be careful.”
Before the doors closed, Rachel tipped her head forward and gave Amy a thankful smile. Amy shot her a wink and picked up a call. Her heartbeat quickened, and she called herself crazy for actually thinking of going head-to-head with the junior editor from hell. Did she really believe in this manuscript enough to risk everything for it?
• • •
After a week and a half into the craziest job she’d ever held, Rachel was surprised to find that she was doing well. Even the most taboo of subjects was becoming a little easier on the ears. And the training — well, nothing in high school business prep had gotten her ready for this. Inside of a few days, she had already learned how to simulate a spanking, and she’d already performed a mock three-way with Jennifer. She was nearly overcome by a fit of church giggles as “Asia” explained to a caller that she and her roommate “Kirby” were half-naked watching girl-on-girl porn because they were just so darned curious!
Somehow, the job had become fun despite how horrified she’d been when she first learned of it. She’d learned about sexual fetishes and positions that had gotten left out of the old “birds and bees” conversation. Then again, Rachel was pretty sure that neither bird nor bee would even think to bend their minds the way some of her callers had. One of her favorites had become a guy named Ricky, who loved to talk for dozens of minutes about John Wayne. He would lecture Kirby about the movie legend and his allegedly well-documented spanking fetish, before asking her to help him launch a spanking session of his own.
In fact, she had just ended a call with Ricky when Jennifer tapped her on the shoulder. Rachel looked up into her trainer’s smiling face as she swiveled in her office chair.
“You’re doing a great job,” Jennifer commented, “You’re really relaxing on the phone and having fun with it. I knew you’d get there.”
“I’m glad you did, because I sure didn’t,” Rachel giggled.
“I have to pull in a couple of new hires, so I’m going to leave you by yourself for a while. I’ll come back and check on you in about an hour, okay?”
Rachel nodded, feeling confident. “All right, I think I can handle that.”
“Of course you can,” Jennifer agreed, patting her on the back. “Have fun, I’ll talk to you in a bit.”
Jennifer disappeared and Rachel swiveled back to face her computer monitor. Her girl name flashed brightly in the screen’s queue. She was next for a call. With an amused grin, she wondered what she was going to hear about next. Would it be piercings or stocking fetishes? Maybe another submissive needed to learn a lesson? The phone rang softly. She mustered up her very best sexy voice, and allowed her alter ego to take over.
“Hi, this is Kirby.”
There was a pause. “Er, hi.”
Rachel’s heart stopped. The caller’s voice was rich and deep, and somehow strangely familiar. “How are you?”
“Honestly? A l
ittle freaked out — I’ve never done this before.”
A small fire started in the pit of Rachel’s tummy. He sounded like quite a hunk, though voices certainly could be deceiving. Jennifer had warned her about these calls; she was surprised hers had come so early in the game. For the first time, she was a little excited — just a little — to hear this caller moan.
Rachel allowed herself a shy giggle. “That’s okay. I’m kind of new to it myself.”
The caller chuckled; it was a deep throaty sound that sparked another twinge of recognition in the back of her brain. “Is that right? It doesn’t sound like it.”
“I have a great trainer,” Rachel answered with a giggle she couldn’t control. Am I ruining the illusion?
“I’m sure you do,” he answered, his voice reminding her of a cup of hot chocolate. Chocolate? “What’s your name again?”
Her head tilted as she considered his question. “Kirby.”
“Is that your real name?”
“For the purpose of this conversation it is.”
The laugh that followed practically lit up her soul. “Fair enough, Kirby. Do you want to know my name?”
Rachel couldn’t hold back her smile. He was either being coy, or extremely flirtatious. “If you want me to know, then I’m all ears.”
He took a deep breath and sighed. It almost sounded like a moan and set off lightning in her most private of areas. “I’m Joe.”
She replayed his name in her head, and it hit her. Hottie McCoffeehouse! Rachel’s heart pounded so hard, she was afraid he’d hear it on the other end. A long stretch of silence extended between them, and Rachel’s fingers hovered over the disconnect button. Not like this, she thought frantically, I don’t want to know this yet!
“Kirby — did I lose you?”
And there go the cobwebs again. She shook her head and answered, “No, no. I’m still here, Joe. Sorry about that, I was just getting comfortable.”
He exhaled. “It’s okay. Actually, I was just hoping we could talk tonight. Will I get you in trouble for that?”
Sexy in the City Page 41
