Sex Addict

by Brooke Blaine

  “Be careful, would you?”

  She knew exactly who and what he was warning her against without any further detail, and as she placed a hand over his, she gave him a tight smile and a swift nod, assuring him that she would be. She just had to convince herself first.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  REAGAN HADN’T EVEN made it to her desk the next day when Evan came bursting in, a huge grin on his face and a coffee cup in his hand.

  “A grande soy wet cappuccino for the lady. Oh,” he said, and brought out the hand hiding behind his back to reveal a small paper bag. “And pain au chocolate. Your favorite coffee with my favorite pastry. A delicious combination, if I say so myself.”

  “So not an attempt to make me fat?” she asked, taking the bag from him, but before she could wrap her hand around the cup, he pulled it back.

  “Forgot something,” he said, pulling the cardboard sleeve out of his pocket. He held the drink out again, and this time, she saw a smattering of writing on the side that was quickly covered up as he slid the sleeve over it. Glancing up, she saw him wink and then he was backing away, a smile still on his face.

  What is he up to?

  “Have a great day, Ms. Spencer.”

  As soon as he was out the door, she didn’t waste time in pulling the sleeve back down to see what hidden message he had for her.

  If it hadn’t been quite so shocking, Reagan was sure she would be laughing at his audacity, but the fact of the matter was that Evan’s message had the complete opposite effect. She knew those few lines were in reference to their “date,” and didn’t that just add some dynamite to a situation that was already bound to be explosive.

  Again, she read over the words:

  Reward me, will he? Hmm…

  Folding the sleeve flat, she tapped it against her thigh before making her way around to her chair. Rolling it out, she switched on her laptop and took a seat. The smile that was creeping across her lips couldn’t be helped as she once again found herself reading the message.

  She sat there trying to decide how to respond, or if she even should respond, to Evan’s blatant seduction tactics. As she slipped the sleeve over the cup once again and leaned back in her chair, she tapped her foot on the floor and thought, what the hell…

  She logged into her system and pulled up her email. Scrolling through the directory of names until she found his, she opened up a message box and started to type.

  Dear Mr. James,

  I appreciate the caffeine boost this morning, but please note that bribery has no business in the workplace. Any and all rewards will come from hard work and dedication. I would be more than happy to discuss should you have further concerns.

  Ms. Reagan Spencer

  Senior Finance Manager

  Kelman Corporations

  She lifted her coffee to her lips and took a sip of the creamy cappuccino as she reread her words and then hit send before she could change her mind.

  Not even a minute later, a response popped up in the corner of her computer. As soon as she saw the sender’s address, the long-dormant butterflies in her stomach began to flutter, and she clicked it open.

  Dear Ms. Spencer,

  Please accept my apologies. I am under no delusions that I should be rewarded for anything other than persistence and exceeding expectations. In the future, I will endeavor to be clearer about my intentions.

  Evan James

  Clearer than telling her he’d like to peel her out of a dress? She was almost scared to think of what the rest of the week would bring…

  Tuesday

  Dear Mr. James,

  While you have definitely shown strides in stepping up your game in the workplace, and your attention to detail is one of your strong points, I fear your focus might be too narrow.

  Please expand on your proposal.

  Ms. Reagan Spencer

  Senior Finance Manager

  Kelman Corporations

  Wednesday

  “…so I think what he’s really saying here is he’d like to merge with Bridlewood instead of—”

  A knock on the door cut Bill off, and he called out for them to enter.

  “Excuse me, sir, I thought we could use a midweek pick-me-up,” Evan said, walking in with a tray of coffee cups.

  Bill smiled and gestured him inside. “I don’t think any of us would turn that down. Thanks, son.”

  “I heard you’re a fan of caramel,” Evan said, and handed Bill the first cup. “If not, you’ll have to blame Ms. Spencer here.”

  Reagan felt her face turn to fire as she realized she’d be forced to see whatever obscenities Evan had decided to write on the cup that morning in front of Bill. She barely looked up as Evan held the coffee out to her.

  “Be careful, this one’s extra hot.” His suggestive comment and a quick glance at the cup had her almost dropping it.

  Her eyes flew up to his then, and a smirk crossed his lips. “They also gave me these,” he said, pulling a couple of cardboard sleeves out of his pocket. Then he handed one to Bill, and as he offered the other to Reagan, he said, “So you don’t get burned.”

  Bill took his and, without fuss, slipped it over the cup while Evan eyed her with an expression that could only be considered…ravenous.

  “Don’t you have a meeting to go to this morning, Mr. James? Or emails to answer?” Reagan managed, barely, as his eyes practically stripped her where she stood.

  “Now that you mention it, I should go and check my inbox. Lately I’ve been getting spammers sending me inappropriate—”

  “Evan.” Reagan was positive she was about to be outed, fired, or would just combust on the fucking spot with the way he was still looking at her. “I’m on it. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we need to wrap this up.”

  “Reagan,” Bill said, chuckling, looking between the two of them.

  “Sorry, Bill, but I have another meeting I need to get to in fifteen minutes.”

  “Okay, okay.” He gave Evan a nod. “Thanks again for the coffee. Apparently Reagan needed it a little more than we knew this morning.”

  Evan finally took his eyes from her and backed away to the door with a good-ol’-boy smile for Bill. “Sometimes we have no idea what we need until someone gives it to us.”

  As he opened the door and stepped outside, leaving her standing tongue-tied next to Bill, her boss and longtime family friend turned to her and cocked his head to the side.

  “Want to explain what that was all about?”

  “Oh, nothing,” she said, but Bill wasn’t buying it.

  “Nothing? It sure seemed like something. Why is Evan bringing us coffee?”

  Reagan racked her brain, trying to think of the most plausible answer to give that wouldn’t sound as if…well, as if she wanted to take Evan home and screw his brains out. The man was driving her nuts, and he hadn’t even touched her.

  “He’s no doubt buttering us up for a raise. He knows we lowballed him when we signed him on, and I’m sure he feels like he’s more than proved himself by now.”

  “And do you?” Bill asked. “Feel as though he’s proved himself?”

  He seems hellbent on showing he’s changed to get in my bed.

  “Reagan?”

  She focused back on Bill’s question, and her fabricated story, and gave an absent nod. “I think he’s getting there. Maybe a couple more weeks and we can reevaluate.”

  Bill brought the file up that was in his hand and handed it over to her. “Okay. You’re the boss when it comes to his probationary period. Just let me know.”

  Jesus Christ, now I really feel like a shit for lying.

  “Will do, Bill. Now I’ve got this conference call with Bridlewood. Was there anything else?”

  Bill eyed her in a way that made her feel uneasy, almost like when she’d told a fib as a child. She felt guilty, as if he knew she was lying, but he wasn’t going to call her out. More likely he would wait until she fell face first into it and then say, I told you so.

  But, like any
person who was guilty and knew it, she held her cards close and shook her head.

  “Nope, that’s all.”

  She turned to make her way out the door, and just before she closed it, she heard him call out, “Have a good day, Reagan.”

  Yeah, happy Hump Day to me.

  Thursday

  My bottom drawer…?

  Reagan pushed her office chair back with her toes and reached with tentative hands toward the drawer he indicated. She paused for a moment, wondering if she should keep playing this game with him, although it had probably not been smart to engage him in the first place. Her head knew that. The rest of her was eager for him, his attention, his words, and she couldn’t seem to stop herself…

  Without a second more of hesitation, she pulled the drawer open to see another note taped to a small gift bag.

  Reagan knew, even as she pulled the item out of the bag, what she would find. The sheer black bra from their first encounter, the one she’d held out to him like a gift after a night filled with more orgasms than she could count.

  She was in so much fucking trouble, and she knew it. This bet Evan had struck with her, this date she was supposed to go on, had WARNING written all over it.

  At first she’d thought, sure, she could handle a night out. Maybe a dinner and then he’d drop her home. But as the week progressed, and the notes on each coffee he’d given her became that much more suggestive, Reagan knew she was in deep shit.

  She tucked the bra into the gift bag it came from then placed it back in the drawer and pushed it shut. Maybe if she wasn’t staring at it, she wouldn’t recall how good it had felt to have his hands cupping her bare breasts as she sank down over his hard cock.

  Yeah, because I’m sure not thinking that now…

  Clicking open her email, she pulled up his name and wrote:

  Dear Mr. James,

  Thank you for returning the item you borrowed to its rightful owner. But perhaps in the future, you should remember it is always better to give without the expectation of receiving something in return.

  Ms. Reagan Spencer

  Senior Finance Manager

  Kelman Corporations

  Dear Ms. Spencer,

  Please understand I was not returning a ‘borrowed’ item. I was merely sharing with you a gift that was originally given to me as a token of gratitude for a job well done. I would never presume to give with expectation of receiving, although recognition is always appreciated. You should know this better than others since you have been watching my...progress.

  Evan James

  Dear Mr. James,

  Your comments have been duly noted. Regarding your progress, I can say I’ve seen remarkable strides but will continue to closely monitor your performance.

  Ms. Reagan Spencer

  Senior Finance Manager

  Kelman Corporations

  Friday

  Fuck-me Friday.

  Reagan had a feeling that would be the theme of the day, and night, if Evan James had anything to do with it. And how could he not? He’d been the constant in her thoughts ever since the first time she’d met him at the bar in Chelsea all those weeks ago. What began as curiosity of the man her childhood crush had become had blossomed into something more than she’d ever expected. Within the stirrings of lust she felt every time even his name was mentioned, there was the twinge of something more…something dangerous, and the more she felt herself falling, the more she couldn’t stop herself.

  Standing in front of the elevator banks, Reagan tapped her foot as she waited impatiently for one to reach the ground floor. She was in amongst a crowd of both businessmen and women, anxious to get their day underway so they could knock off and enjoy the city over the weekend. The lights overhead indicated the elevator was on its way down, and just as it chimed and the doors slid open, she felt someone step in close behind her.

  “Good morning, Ms. Spencer.”

  She didn’t have to turn to see who was standing there. Her body already knew. Without a word, she walked inside with the rest of the group and took a spot in the back corner, sensing Evan hot on her heels. When she finally glanced up at him, she steeled herself against what she would find. She’d been right to do that, because the look he was aiming her way just about disintegrated the tiny thong she’d slipped on earlier that morning.

  “Good morning.”

  His eyes tracked a heated path down her body, and when they finally came back to land on her face, she pretty much lost the will to open her mouth and interrupt that hot-as-hell expression.

  “You’re looking lovely this morning, as usual,” he told her, and then raised the coffee cup he had in his hand toward her. “I believe I owe you one more of these, and then we’re squared away…on my end, at least.”

  The man standing in front of them, wearing a starched business suit and clutching his briefcase, peered over his shoulder toward them, and before Reagan could explain, Evan jumped in.

  “I lost the office bet last week.”

  The man gave them a smile of camaraderie, and when Evan looked back at her, Reagan didn’t feel in the least bit friendly—she felt indecent as hell. What kind of person was she that she was standing there, lying to this man, and yet at the same time wanting to hit the emergency button and demand he put an end to this frustration he’d built inside her all week?

  As it was, she was almost terrified to read what was on the final cup.

  She took the coffee with a tentative hand and held his gaze. His eyes seemed to sparkle at her, and she couldn’t help but respond by rolling hers, even if the half-smile on her face never went away.

  Casually, she pulled the sleeve down to see what message she needed to refute today, but there was nothing written. Brows knitted together, she turned it around and found the rest blank as well. Beside her, she felt Evan’s shoulders begin to shake and, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of showing she cared about his silly messages, took a long sip before sputtering as the hot, black coffee that was obviously not hers made its way down her throat.

  “Did you get mine by mistake?” Evan teased. “I’m sorry—it looks like this one is yours.”

  Reagan glared up at his smirking face before grabbing the coffee out of his hand and shoving the nasty concoction she’d been forced to drink in his.

  His lips found their way to her ear and, ever so quietly, he said, “I just wanted to taste your wet”—he glanced down to her mouth before looking her dead in the eyes—“cappuccino.”

  A shiver raced through her, and as the elevator doors opened on their floor, she pushed her way past the remaining people inside, trying to put some space between her and the arrogant ass somewhere behind her. She waited until she was safely inside her office, away from Evan’s penetrating gaze, to pull down the sleeve.

  Movement out of the corner of her eye had her looking up, and she saw Evan peering around her office door watching her. He’d probably been watching the whole time. Dammit.

  “Make sure to include your address in your snappy comeback email,” he said, and disappeared before she could even begin to formulate a response.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  REAGAN TWISTED A lock of her long blond hair deftly around the curling iron and held it there for a few moments before letting it fall in a bouncy ringlet down her chest. She never wore her hair like this, preferring a sleek updo or light waves down her back, but she was feeling a bit nostalgic after the constant barrage of dreams she’d had this week.

  It didn’t surprise her that Evan hadn’t had an inkling of who she was. He was, after all, her childhood crush, and being the little sister of his best friend had made her invisible most of the time. Not to mention, she barely resembled the girl she used to be. That little girl had chocolate curls and an easygoing smile, still innocent to the way the world worked. Until…

  Reagan put down the curling iron and ran her fingers through the ringlets to soften them a bit, thinking back to when her whole world had come crashing down the week before her
eighth birthday.

  “Troy!”

  Jennifer heard her father call throughout the house as she stood in front of the bathroom mirror getting ready for school. She was waiting for her mother to come and help her with her curls that she’d started wearing after seeing her favorite TV star with a head full of ringlets.

  “Troy!”

  As her dad called out again, she made her way to the door and looked down the stairs to where he stood looking up at her.

  “Oh, Jenny. Is your brother up there?”

  With a quick shake of her head, she frowned at her father as he mumbled under his breath and told her, “You won’t be going to school today. Your mother and I need to talk to you, but first—Troy! Where is that boy?”

  He turned and stormed away, presumably to track down her missing brother, leaving her standing there wondering what was going on.

  Quietly, she made her way up the hall, careful not to make any noise as she approached her parents’ bedroom door. It was open just a crack, and as she got closer, she could hear soft sniffles—the sound of someone crying.

  With a shaky hand, Jennifer reached for the door and pushed it open a little, spotting her mother sitting on the edge of her bed. Her head was bent, her hands were covering her face, and she seemed to be lost in her despair.