by Tess Oliver
She peered up at me, confused about where the moment was leading. I knew where my body wanted it to lead, but I was retraining myself to use my head and not my cock. I growled in frustration as I released the rope.
Her arms dropped. She loosened the rope and rubbed her wrists.
"I didn't hurt you, did I?" I asked as I pulled on my shorts.
She shook her head. It wasn't like her to be silent. I'd pushed our game a little too far this time, but I was only partially regretting it.
"Shay, I'm sorry I snapped at you earlier. I'd just heard that my old boss was trying to sabotage my career and I was mad. I shouldn't have taken it out on you."
"It's fine. You were right. I signed a contract and from now on I'll wear the things you bought for me."
I watched with keen interest as she retied the tiny silk ribbon at the top of the baby doll nightie. "That's all right. You can just wear those things when I ask you to put them on."
We headed out to the kitchen. "How is he sabotaging you?" she asked. "What has he done?"
"It seems he's spreading a lot of rumors about my wild lifestyle." I grabbed two glasses and filled them with water.
"Thanks, that was quite the workout I had on the weight machine," she quipped as she took hold of the glass. As always, she made sure not to touch my fingers. I wished for once, she would accidently graze my hand just so I could feel her touch.
"Yes, you were really into it." I gulped down the entire glass.
"So, are they rumors?" She reached into the cupboard for a box of crackers. She was never shy with her questions. I liked that about her. One of many things I liked about her.
I refilled my glass. "I'm sure he's embellished the stories some, but maybe rumors is the wrong word. Let's just say, he doesn't want me as competition so he's making sure people stay clear of me. A monstrously wealthy banking family is having a big networking party tonight in Beverly Hills and Grant managed to erase me from the guest list. I've got to hand it to him, he's more ruthless than I realized. Still, it would have been a great opportunity to meet new entrepreneurs looking for investors."
Shay reached into the box for another cracker. "Crash the party."
I leaned against the kitchen counter and tipped my head sideways. "I should have pegged you as the party crasher type." The Peyton party would be a gold mine for networking, and it was the perfect launch event for my new company. "You know what, I think I will crash it. But first I have to go down to the local print shop and see if I can get a rush job on business cards."
"That's the spirit. Which reminds me, I'll be leaving for a few hours. I've got someone—something I need to do."
"That's fine. You're not a prisoner here."
"No? Seems to me the warden just had me tied up a few minutes ago."
I closed the gap between us and reached into the cracker box she was still holding. "Indeed, my little jail bird, you liked that, didn't you?"
"Maybe," she said sweetly. She lifted her finger and licked the salt off the top of it. I hadn't expected the gesture and a groan rolled up from my throat before I could stop it. "But what's the use of having my hands tied, if there is no delicious punishment to go with it?"
She was pulling me into a trance again, making my pulse race so fast it drummed all reason and coherent thoughts from my head.
I stared down at her lips. "You have a little salt"—I pointed at her bottom lip— "Right there." My voice cracked in my throat as I spoke.
The pink tip of her small tongue lathed across her bottom lip. She peered up at me with big brown eyes that were glassed with innocence but that held a glimmer of an erotic tease. "Did I get it all?" she asked softly.
I was up against a pro.
"I'd have to taste your lip to know for sure." I lowered my face so close to hers, I could feel her warm breath on my mouth. Her long throat moved with a hard swallow. And I briefly wondered if she wanted the kiss as much as I wanted it. Or was she just that good at acting? That thought cooled my head just enough. I straightened. Her shoulders drooped in disappointment. It was the money, I assured myself. Not the kiss.
"I would love to stand around and talk dirty, raunchy daydreams with you, my tiny dancer, but I've got to plan for a party crash." I headed out of the kitchen and another idea popped into my head. "Why don't you come with me? We can crash it together. I'll introduce you as my girlfriend."
"Ah, so people see that you've settled down to one girl. If you'd like. After all, you're the boss."
"Damn right."
17
Shay ran her fingers along the leather armrest of the passenger seat. "I know I've said this a few times, but I love this car." For the tenth time, she finished her declaration by tugging the hem of the tight black dress farther down her thighs.
She caught my smile. "What's so funny?"
"I just think it's cute how you keep modestly pulling down that hem when I've seen you naked and spread wide in the shower. And may I just add that it was the best non-contact shower sex I've ever had."
"Thank you. I rather enjoyed it myself." Without thinking, she tugged at the dress again and then grunted in frustration. "I don't know why I keep doing that. I think I'm just nervous. I've never crashed a party before."
I pulled my eyes from the line of traffic and looked at her. "The way you confidently suggested the idea, I thought you had a lot of crashing experience."
"Me?" Her silky hair shimmered as she shook her head. "Nope. I never needed to crash one because, unlike you, I always get the invite."
"Very funny, miss popular. I'll bet you were every guy's high school crush. I would have been sneaking glances at you from behind my locker door if you'd been at my school." She looked over at me and I nodded. "Yes, that sounded creepy once I said it out loud. My dad actually pulled me out of my exclusive private school because I wanted to go to a dance." I turned toward the off-ramp.
"Jeez, that would be comical if it weren't so darn awful."
"Yep. While my few friends were stealing second base behind the gymnasium, I was stuck learning chemistry and French from Mr. Tuttle, a man who was as smart as he was boring."
I glanced at her again. It was always a challenge not to look at Shay. "By the way, that little black dress was the perfect choice for tonight. I was going to tell you to put on the red, sequined mini but you were right." I turned onto the long road that led up to the Peyton estate.
"Yes, the quintessential black dress. It's the perfect choice when you want to stand out but you don't want to stand out."
"All I know is that you're going to stand out in this crowd no matter what you're wearing."
"Why, thank you. See, now I'm less nervous." Shay looked through the window as we traveled past multi-million dollar estates, some with front lawns as big as parks and facades as ornate and elegant as museums. She sat back and tugged the dress again. "Or at least I was until I saw the neighborhood. Something tells me they won't be serving potato chips with onion dip and little wieners on the end of a toothpick."
"Probably not but you might just wish they were after you try some of the exotic, weird crap rich people consider party fare."
Shay leaned over to the box of hastily printed business cards I'd placed on the floor. I still needed a logo but at least I'd be able to get the business name out there. She pulled some cards out and pushed them into her clutch purse. "Now I can hand some cards out too. Anything for my boyfriend. " She spun slightly to the side to look at me. "Should we come up with some cute pet names. You know like Cutie Cupcake and Gummy Bear? You're Gummy Bear, of course."
I laughed. "I think we could just stick with names." I turned up the long driveway. "Shit, they have valet parking. I hate letting those goobers drive this car." I stopped and backed out onto the road. "I'll park it myself, and we can walk up the driveway." I could sense Shay staring at the side of my face. "What?"
She lifted her foot just enough to remind me that she had worn the black spiked heels that had been part of her Fantasm cost
ume.
"Lady, I've seen you dance like a prima ballerina in those stilts. I think you can handle a short hike. Or I can pull up and let you out by the house."
"No, that's all right. Besides, the walk will let me work up my courage for the party. I only wish I had a strong arm to hang onto during the walk," she teased.
"Hmm, I forgot about the non-touch clause. Hopefully people won't notice." I only briefly considered declaring a truce from the contract, but something told me, once I touched Shay's hand or arm or placed a proprietary hand on the small of her back, there would be no stopping.
Shiny, expensive cars lined both sides of the long driveway which was lit by thousands of twinkling lights hung in the jacaranda trees bordering the path. It was a warm fall night and the moon was a thick wedge of yellow as it glowed down over the city.
"What's my story going to be?" Shay asked excitedly. "How about if I'm an exotic princess from a faraway land."
"Do you know many exotic foreign lands?"
That question softened her enthusiasm for the idea. "I need some kind of story. If a lot of people know you inside, they're going to ask where I've been all this time."
I nodded. "Good point. How about you are a professional dancer who has been traveling in Europe this last year and we've been meeting up whenever we both had time. And now you're back in the states to finish your master's degree."
Shay's steps slowed and the slightest frown appeared. "That's who you wish you were walking in with, isn't it? The professional dancer with a college degree. I feel extra awkward now."
"Hey, you are a professional dancer. Even if you haven't been dancing in Europe. And as I recall, you just finished a summer quarter in college."
"Fine. Guess that makes me feel a smidgen better about myself."
I stopped. She took a few extra steps before noticing. She looked back at me with an expectant gaze.
"Shay, you are going to be more beautiful and more amazing and more charming than any other person at this party."
Her brown eyes glittered. "Yes, I will because I will be on the arm of the business world's newest rock star, DNA."
Fortified by our personal pep talks, we finished the hike up the driveway and reached the front of the mansion.
A handful of people mingled around the fountain in front of the house, a few I recognized and a few I didn't. It seemed most of the guests were in the house or out on the back veranda. An oversized guy dressed in a stark black suit and a shirt collar that seemed to be strangling his thick neck stood midway on the marble steps with a clipboard.
I leaned my head over. "I didn't realize they'd have someone checking for invitations. Maybe we can climb a fence," I said with a laugh. "Or maybe I can bullshit the guy. He looks sort of stupid."
"Good evening." I placed my hand behind as if leading Shay along up the steps, but I kept my palm an inch away.
The invite checker's eyes went straight to Shay. It took some effort for him to refocus on his task. He glanced at the clipboard. "Name?"
"David Nash Archer," I said confidently. As he perused the list, I tried to come up with an excuse about why he couldn't find it. He placed his finger along the edge of the clipboard and dragged it down. "The list is alphabetical, and I don't see it at the top."
"Maybe it's under Nash. That's what most of the people around here call me." I snuck a shoulder shrug at Shay, letting her know I was out of ideas.
Shay placed her hand over her mouth to suppress a fake giggle. "This is so embarrassing," she said sweetly. Invite man watched with undivided interest as Shay gracefully and quickly climbed the three steps to where he was standing. She braced her hand on his big shoulder, hopped up to reach his ear and leaned in to whisper something. His face showed that it was the best fucking thing to happen to him all night. A smile broke through his stony expression.
"Of course, go right ahead."
Shay glanced back and motioned for me to follow her up the steps.
He hardly gave me a second glance as I walked past. But he took the time to watch Shay climb the rest of the steps. I reached her side. "What did you say to him? Or do I want to know?"
"I just told him I drank three glasses of wine on the way over, and I badly needed a trip to the little girl's room."
I stared at the side of her face as we walked through the massive entry to the mansion. "Kiddo, if you could bottle whatever it is that makes you you, then you'd be a fucking billionaire."
* * *
THE PEYTONS WERE the type of people Dad liked to refer to as show-off rich. Every corner of the city-sized family compound was filled with furniture and art that was worth more than the average family made in a year. Whenever I was in a place like the Peyton mansion, I had to concur with my dad that for the most part too many possessions just made you stupid and shallow. Of course, I wasn't sure what that said for people like my dad who had money in the bank collecting interest and dust and doing nothing to move along the economy.
18
Shay had been nervous on the drive over, convinced she wouldn't be able to fit in with a bunch of rich snobs. But I was the person having a hard time trying to mingle. My date, on the other hand, seemed to have yet again caught the undivided attention of a group of strangers. And other than making a few contacts and letting the word out that I was starting up my own business, I found myself spending an insane amount of time watching my pretend girlfriend. Twice, I'd had to take some deep breaths and grind my teeth together to keep from marching over and stopping a handsy jerk from touching her. And after each incident, I asked myself how the hell I came to be so fucking jealous of anyone who came within inches of Shay.
My greatest accomplishment of the night, other than not getting drunk, was avoiding direct eye contact with my ex-boss, Morris Grant. As badly as I wanted to approach him and find out just what the hell he was up to, I decided to save it for another time. I was, after all, an illegal guest at the party.
A hand landed hard on my shoulder. "You came." Rob Nixon circled around and shot back a glass of bourbon before continuing his greeting. "I knew Peyton would send you an invite."
"Yep, guess Grant doesn't have as much power as he thinks." Shay joined us.
"Rob, this is my girlfriend, Shay." Rob's eyes opened wide as if he'd stuck his finger in a live socket.
"Girlfriend? No kidding. Nash Archer with a girlfriend. No one told me hell froze over." He wiped off his hand on his coat and stuck it out. She wrapped her long fingers around his hand. I stared at the shake, thinking how badly I wanted those fingers wrapped around my hand.
Shay smiled. "Someone had to rein the man in. I decided I was the woman for the job." She winked at me and scooted closer without making contact.
"Hey, have you talked to the Harvard women, the ones with that lightweight, indestructible metal alloy?" Rob asked. "Grant circled them earlier and made a landing just like a bird of prey. He was talking to them for at least an hour. You need to get in there, Archer." Rob pushed his black rimmed glasses higher on his nose and searched the giant room. "There they are talking to those hacks from Tri-media Investments. They're the women who are dressed to show everyone that they despise upper crust snobbery."
I stretched up to see over other heads. "One has on a cream colored beanie?"
Shay hopped up to get a look. "I see them. They definitely decided to dress down. Good for them. I'm heading over to the bar for another glass of wine." She disappeared through the crowd.
Rob elbowed me. "Wow, just wow. And I'm not talking about the shocking news that you have a girlfriend. I'm talking about the girl. Good for you." He clapped me on the shoulder again. "There's Rex Mitchell, I need to talk to him. Good seeing you, Archer." He motioned in the direction Shay had walked. "And good for you. Now get over to those women and give them a good old Archer sales pitch."
"Heading there now." I sidled through the people mingling in front of the dessert table when a familiar voice snarled my name.
"Nash, how the hell did you ge
t into this party?"
I turned back slowly. Grant looked older and leathery under the thousands of chandelier lights in the room, even though it seemed he was trying to look younger. He'd let his gray beard stubble grow out and his hair was a little less gelled than usual. He was clutching his signature drink, a gin and tonic.
"Morris," I said curtly. "How do you know I wasn't invited? Or maybe you are working overtime to keep me from scooping business right out from under you. Especially since I was bringing in seventy percent of your new clients these past few years."
"Yes, clients who prefer to stay with someone they can trust rather than an out of control hellion like yourself."
I laughed. "Hellion? I assume this—" I rubbed my own chin to point out his stubble. "Is your attempt to look cool. You might want to hold back the old man words like hellion."
"Fuck off, Archer. By the way, you were easily replaced." He pointed his drink hand across the way. "You might have noticed that sharply dressed young man with the Rolex, who's been winding himself into every conversation. He's a Yale graduate, and frankly, unstoppable. His name is Curtis Young. I'm sure you'll hear it a lot soon."
"As you know, Grant, I prefer women, but I did notice him. Not because of the Rolex but because I thought it was amusing that he brought his own booze flask to a party where the alcohol is flowing. And he's been nursing that thing between conversations like a baby with a bottle." Grant's face lightened a shade or two as he scowled over at his newfound protégé.
I leaned closer. "Maybe he doesn't like to drink out of a glass. Or maybe he brought it so no one would notice just how much he was drinking." I walked away, satisfied that I'd left him with food for thought.
For the millionth time, I found myself searching the room for the white blonde hair. It turned out Shay was standing with the women from Harvard, deep in what looked like a friendly conversation. I walked up to the circle of women. Shay's smile flashed brightly, temporarily rendering me breathless.
