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Temporary Position
ISBN # 978-0-85715-800-0
©Copyright Scarlett Parrish 2011
Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright October 2011
Edited by Lisa Cox
Total-E-Bound Publishing
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Total-E-Bound Publishing.
Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-E-Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.
The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.
Published in 2011 by Total-E-Bound Publishing, Think Tank, Ruston Way, Lincoln, LN6 7FL, United Kingdom.
Warning: This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has a heat rating of Total-e-burning and a sexometer of 1.
Tempting Temps
TEMPORARY POSITION
Scarlett Parrish
Jess Ludlow thought she was agreeing to work on the shop floor, not all fours.
Jess Ludlow’s spent three months trying to pretend she didn’t kiss two work colleagues after a staff dinner. They might not all work in the same department store but they’re employees of the same parent company and these things have a habit of refusing to be forgotten. The biggest problem is deciding what she regrets more—kissing Tyler and Sebastian at all, or walking away.
Both men have a vacancy only Jess can fill. A staffing dilemma gives them the perfect excuse to draft her in, and a brief window of opportunity to convince her they have unfinished business. Tyler can sweet-talk her in English, Sebastian’s fluent in Swedish, so between them (which is where Jess belongs), they’re ready to pull out all the stops.
And the nipple clamps.
Dedication
I’d like to take this opportunity to send a message to S. A. Meade and Liz Silver, the other two corners of the Unholy Pervy Trinity: RITE MOAR FILTH NAO! Thank you. J
Chapter One
Three months ago I attended a staff dinner dance too far from home to make for a comfortable, quick drive back. Besides which, I wanted to have a drink, so I opted to book a hotel room for the night. That way I could taxi back and fall into bed within minutes of leaving my work colleagues if I fancied.
I hadn’t had too much to drink—only a few glasses of wine, and white, at that. Even one glass of red was enough to send me loopy. I’d thought I was playing it safe. Cue a casual conversation with Sebastian, a suggestion that, as he and Tyler were carpooling, they could drive me back to wherever I was staying…
Before I knew it, I was in a car with the two best-looking Pearson’s employees in the region, desperately chanting to myself, Don’t say anything stupid, Jess. Don’t say anything stupid.
Turned out Tyler—the Manager of his store no less—was the one to take that step. And he was the designated driver, stone cold sober.
After pulling up outside my hotel, he looked over his shoulder and smirked. “Here we are.”
“Yeah.” His smile was infectious—I couldn’t help returning it. “Here we are.” I’d not yet laid my hand on the door handle. It would have seemed rude to just hop out and go upstairs, but by the same token I had no idea how to wrap up the conversation.
“Would you think I was pulling rank if I mentioned a goodnight kiss?”
I knew I hadn’t had that much to drink, and alcohol always seemed to affect my balance and speech first of all, anyway. Not my hearing. Three glasses of white spread over the whole evening, with a meal and soft drinks, too… I definitely wasn’t tipsy enough for my ears to have stopped working. “I…what?”
“Jesus, Ty.” Sebastian, who worked in the same store as Tyler, as his menswear manager, play-punched him on the arm. “You’d take advantage of a drunk woman?”
“I’m not drunk.”
“See?” Tyler held up both his palms in a perfectly-executed gesture of innocence. “She’s not drunk.”
“Yes, because that’s exactly what a sober person would say.”
“Are you accusing me of…?” I began, but the look on Sebastian’s face halted me in my tracks. God damn it—I’d been talking to him all night and never seen him in that light before. The half-light as it was, from some nearby lampposts and the neon sign of my hotel.
He was leaner than Tyler, but in no way less of a presence. There was a quiet intensity to him that I’d noticed during our conversation that evening, an ability to make me feel like the only woman in the room. It wasn’t that he’d stared at me while we conversed—that would have been too aggressive. But he’d paid attention and made me feel witty, urbane, like the sort of woman who stood a chance. I’d not had much to do with him up until now—we worked in different branches of Pearson’s—but this evening had thrown us together, almost like it was meant to happen.
Like it was planned.
A shaft of artificial light caught the contours of Sebastian’s face as his mouth widened into a teasing grin. I paid enough attention to him to see the silhouette of his eyelashes as he searched Tyler’s face for some reaction or other.
“Well, if it’s a goodnight kiss you’re after…”
Tyler’s head whipped around and he eyed me as I sat in the back seat, sitting erect but not moving. Not leaning any nearer to him.
“…don’t let me stop you two guys.”
“You what?”
“Well, you seem very close. Work in the same store, hang out together…”
“Hey, hey, come on. Ty’s my best mate but not…we’re not…”
I lifted my eyebrows and took the opportunity to stare Sebastian down. I made out just enough to keep my interest up and my nerves down. “No?”
“Fuck, no.”
“I would have thought… Two good-looking guys…” And my blood pressure inevitably rose a few notches. No, I hadn’t had much to do with either of these two guys professionally, but when our paths had crossed of course I’d noticed them. I was the fucking Visual Manager at a sister store. Clearly not blind, for God’s sake.
“Did you hear that?” Tyler laughed quietly. “At least she thinks we’re good-looking.”
“Good-looking and…” I looked from him to Sebastian and back again. “Work colleagues.”
“From another store,” he pointed out.
“Even so.”
“No goodnight kiss, then?” Sebastian asked, and I could have sworn he looked me down and up again in a flirtatious instant. “Damn it. Maybe me and Ty will have to…”
“Now that would be seriously hot.” The words were out before I could stop them and if we’d lingered in broad daylight, they would no doubt have laughed at the burn spreading across my cheeks. “I mean… Jesus, I’d better…” I groped for the door handle and missed.
“Come here.” He tilted his head, motioning for me to near him, and three glasses of wine, a few months of being single and sheer bloody curiosity and want made me.
Truth be told, I was as close to sober as it was possible to get without sticking to water for the rest of my life, so the only thing that made me kiss Sebastian Dickson was the fact I wanted to.
He twisted around from
the passenger seat, his seatbelt long since undone, and slid a hand into my hair. I thought, How the hell did that happen? before realising I must have moved forward, met him halfway.
God, he tasted good. He twisted his tongue against mine, going straight for a deep, passionate kiss, but nothing overpowering. A hint of after-dinner whisky…and at the very moment the words ‘I want more of this’ flashed through my mind, he pulled back. He twisted one strand of my hair around his finger, let it fall, and licked his lips.
No one in the car made a sound for a second or two, until Tyler took a deep breath, alerting me to his presence again.
Something in Sebastian’s kiss had made me forget anyone else was there, and I sat back, clearing my throat. “Fuck,” I muttered. “I can’t believe I did that.”
“I’m kinda glad you did,” Sebastian countered, with a low huff of laughter.
“Well.” Tyler’s voice seemed louder than either of ours—maybe it was because he’d intruded on something. No, not even that. Drawn a line under it. Announced his intention to speak further. He spoke at a normal volume and it only seemed loud compared to the inside of that little pocket of lust I’d just occupied with his work colleague.
“And what about me?” he asked. “Don’t I get a goodnight kiss, too?”
I took a long, slow, deep breath. Silently, so a ragged inhalation wouldn’t advertise my nerves. “You’re the boss.”
Tyler winked. “I sure am.” His voice became a drawl, thick with…something. I flattered myself it was arousal. Or desire, at least. Certainly it wasn’t mere flirtation—he’d been flirting with me before and not sounded like this.
“In which case…” I found the strength from somewhere to open the rear door on the driver’s side.
Immediately more alert, he twisted as far around in his seat as he could, watched me edge towards the door and turned to look over his other shoulder. “Wait, what?”
I used as little force as necessary to close the car door behind me—I didn’t want to slam it and make him think I was angry, or pissed in the other sense, either. But still, the cold night air, though not exactly frigid, made my head spin for a moment. Actually, it was more likely to be the after-effects of Sebastian’s kiss that had made me so lightheaded—that combined with fresh air and a feeling of, ‘What the hell have I done?’
Tyler hit the button to slide the driver’s side window down, his wide-eyed concern morphing into that familiar smile as he realised I wasn’t going anywhere. Yet. He made no attempt whatsoever to disguise the fact he looked me up and down.
“If you’re the boss,” I said, “should you be fraternising with the underlings?”
“I hang about with him, don’t I?”
“Hey!” Sebastian’s word of protest wasn’t offended at all. In fact he punctuated it with a laugh before settling back in his seat to watch the show. “I might only be in menswear—”
“Thank God for that,” I put in. “You’d look like hell in a dress.”
“Oh, Jesus.” Tyler shook his head. “You are putting some hellish images in my head, woman. I’ve gotta work at the same store as this guy.”
“Keep him out of womenswear and lingerie and you should be just fine.”
“May I finish what I was saying before you two started trying to turn me on to cross-dressing?”
“Sure, sure.” I leant down to poke my head through the open car window, giving Tyler the best view in the house given the deep V of my neckline. My dress was form-fitting enough to ensure everything stayed put, though. He just got an eyeful of enough flesh to hold his attention. “You were saying?”
“I might only be in menswear, but Miss Ludlow chose to kiss me first.”
“First suggests you’ll both have a turn.”
“Now wouldn’t that be one hell of a party?” Tyler said, his drawl becoming even more pronounced. “I’m almost glad you don’t work at our store—you’d be even more of a distraction than dealing with this goon’s fuck-ups.”
“Oh I don’t know that he’s all bad.” I winked at Sebastian and turned my attention back to Tyler. “He’s not a bad kisser. Maybe you should try some—”
“No. Just…no.”
“Yeah, you got that right,” Sebastian put in. “Drinking buddies. That’s as far as it goes. Workmates. Platonic.” He sliced through the air with a flattened palm to draw a line through the subject. “End of.”
“You’re not into sharing, then?” I teased, wondering where the hell this talk was coming from. “Each other’s company, I mean.” A pathetic backtrack, but everyone present knew where my mind was going. Theirs were already way ahead of me and setting up home in the gutter.
“Depends on what else we’d be doing.” Tyler’s gaze bravely met mine.
That was the moment I could have said something. Then I could have altered my plans for the night from ‘back to the hotel room’ to something more energetic. Less solitary.
But I released my held breath and let panic over the fact we worked for the same company overtake me. And I followed the path of least resistance.
“Goodnight, Tyler.”
He bit his lip, perhaps wondering whether or not to protest my decision. But that wouldn’t have been gentlemanly. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” Roguish, teasing, but still a gentleman.
I laid my palm flat against his cheek. I wasn’t sure who drew who into the kiss, but it happened all the same. Not at all shy, deep and sensual—just like Sebastian’s. I wondered if they’d done this before. Ever compared notes.
I wondered if they would compare notes, after I had gone.
And I pulled away, breaking off the kiss as soon as the doubts came back. Damn it, I’d regret this in the morning. I’d done just enough to have crossed an invisible line, not enough to feel it was worth it. “I’d better go,” I whispered.
“Are you—?”
“Yes.” Only then did I lift my hand away from his face. “Yes, I’m sure.” It was a lie. I wasn’t sure—I was torn. Wanted to, but didn’t think it would be a good idea. Alcohol had been consumed, but not enough to drown my presence of mind. I wasn’t sure how sincere they were, or if much more than a kiss would leave me with a reputation, a deep sense of embarrassment and some wild memories.
God damn it, looking at Tyler’s kiss-swollen lips almost made me believe it would be worth it.
“Some other time, then,” he murmured, still smiling. Still managing to look me up and down. Appraising me like I was merchandise he was thinking of buying. No, not quite. Like he was wondering how best to display me. “You can count on it.”
“Night, Jess.” Sebastian leaned into view and gave a brief wave.
I did that girlie, fingertips-only thing and turned my back before my libido outgrew my conscience. Soon after my heels had begun tapping on the concrete as I walked away, the car started up, and it took more self-control than I realised I had not to turn around and look.
But I didn’t.
* * * *
As soon as I got back upstairs to the hotel room, which was bland and indistinct just like every other hotel I’d ever stayed in, I kicked off my shoes, dropped my coat and bag on the floor and threw myself onto the bed. Exhausted, I nevertheless knew I wouldn’t sleep much that night.
I’d done what I was supposed to do. Networked. Sucked up to the bigwigs. I’d also sucked face with two fellow managers…
What a professional you are, Ludlow, I said to myself, almost ashamed. Only almost because the other feeling churning in the pit of my stomach was arousal. I couldn’t deny it. I could still taste Tyler and Sebastian if I closed my eyes and thought about those kisses.
Two men. In one night.
I lifted my head off the bed and stared across the room. There was a mirror fixed to the wall exactly opposite the bed, presumably so guests could check their appearances first thing in the morning before checking out, but thoughts of Tyler and Sebastian lingering in my mind escalated into thoughts of them being here. Opposite that mirror.
Groaning, I flopped back. I had to screw my eyes shut when my hand started wandering. It wasn’t guilt or shame—I’d touched myself before. Of course I had. Plenty of times. Just never while thinking of two men I knew personally.
Not personally enough, I thought, embarrassment and arousal shooting through my veins when my fingertips brushed my clit.
I couldn’t help it, that speedy circling of my fingers making my blood pressure rise. I wasn’t going to take my time when my need for an orgasm raced against the feeling, I shouldn’t be thinking of them.
But I was. And I did. Right up until that desperate need pushed me over the edge of an almost disappointing orgasm. Disappointing because it wasn’t the real thing. And even though embarrassment kept my eyes shut, I still saw them. Tyler and Sebastian.
I was almost scared to open my eyes, as if expecting to see them standing over me, smirking at the knowledge of what one kiss—each—had done to me.
No. Not there. Of course. I’d walked away from the reality and instead resorted to a furtive wank, carried out while picturing the two of them.
You’re a fucking idiot.
For walking away, or for kissing them in the first place? I had no idea. Absolutely no idea, and no hope of getting any sleep that night.
Chapter Two
It had probably been a mistake to wear a dress on my first day on the job. The heels? In for a penny, in for a pound, I’d reasoned. I couldn’t see myself climbing up and down ladders straight away, even though at some point the work would get a bit more physical than wandering around with a clipboard making notes for what needed to be changed and rearranged.
I’d been pulled from my position as Visual Manager—a fancy job title that basically meant ‘she who makes everything look nice and does the window dressing’—at my hometown branch of Pearson’s, two-eight-nine, to help out with a staff shortage at four-five-three. For some reason, the higher-ups had decided it was easier to refer to each branch by a number rather than the name of the town or city it was in, and it should be the first three digits of the store’s phone number. Made me want to shout, “I am not a number—I am a free man!” but I doubted anyone would get the joke.
Temporary Position Page 1
