Rapid Pulse: A Limited Edition Spicy Romance Collection

by Gina Kincade

  “It’s perfect. Or as close to it as we’re likely to find.”

  We crammed in a breakfast of juice and toast, and then the real problem arose.

  “Zac, how the hell am I getting out of here without being seen?”

  “Magic.” He gave me that sweet, goofy grin of his again. “But seriously, the parking garage of this building links up with the one across the street. We take the elevator down to the lowest level and you walk across there. I’ll have a cab waiting for you. You won’t even have to touch the street until you get out at the salt mines.”

  “Smart.”

  “I’m not just an amazing fuck, you know.”

  Chapter Seven

  The plan seemed to work perfectly. I got the cab to pull up a couple of blocks short of Scanlon Towers and walked the rest of the way, arriving a few minutes early. Even the icy Birgit didn’t cause me any trouble as I marched to the elevator, which was open as I arrived. The morning couldn’t have been any smoother.

  Or so I thought.

  Just as the doors were about to close, a slender hand jutted between them. Even after only one day, I knew exactly who was on the end of that hand.

  The doors pulled apart again, and the tall, slender frame of Miriam Spall stepped inside. Deciding tact and manners would be my best move, I greeted her accordingly.

  “Good morning, Miriam.”

  She remained silent until the doors closed, whereupon she spun like she’d been shot, once again spearing her finger into the space in front of my nose. “You think you’re so damn clever. Don’t you?”

  “Uh...me? No.”

  “Don’t play games with me, kid. I know Mister Scanlon met with you yesterday.”

  “I’m sure you do. What of it?”

  We’d reached the twentieth floor already, and Miriam punched the emergency stop button. “I also have it on good authority that you’ve already broken the one major rule he set down for you.”

  It was as if my blood had iced up. How could she possibly know? Maybe I was right about the security cameras. But to ask how she knew would be admitting guilt. Her line about having it on good authority sounded to me like she had suspicions without proof. My next move, and next words, would have to be taken with great caution.

  “And what rule might that be, Ms. Spall?”

  “The one about putting your filthy junk into my boss’s son.” Though her words were coarse and laden with accusation, the tone of her voice seemed more resigned than angry. Perhaps even a touch of sadness. And I started to wonder if maybe there was something deep between Miriam Spall and Zac Scanlon. Perhaps all I was to Miriam was a reminder of what she couldn’t have.

  “Well,” I started. “If we were, for a moment, to say that were true...what of it?”

  “I’m certain Mister Scanlon already informed you of the consequences.”

  “He did. But he’s not here.”

  Miriam sighed heavily and canceled the emergency stop, getting the elevator back under way.

  “No, he’s not. But you are aware how close I am to him. Right?”

  “I get that impression. So I guess you’ll just have to do what you have to do.”

  I should have been scared for my job. Maybe angry at the invasion of privacy. Yet I could scarcely believe how quickly I’d flipped. Yesterday, I’d been desperate to hang on to this job no matter what the cost. Suddenly, the thought of being separated from Zac trumped everything else.

  The elevator pinged to let us know it had reached the thirtieth floor. I stepped out and began walking away, when Miriam once again blocked the closing doors and called to me. With great reluctance, I stopped and half-turned.

  “You know, Ritson, it’s possible to be for something without it making you against everything else.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m for this company. I believe in Scanlon and will defend it against all comers. That doesn’t make me an enemy. Not for those who feel the same way.”

  She pulled her hand back and let the doors close, while I pondered on just what the hell she was talking about. Was she trying to lure me into a false sense of security? Friends close and enemies closer, kind of thing.

  I had no more time to ponder on it. The brief elevator delay had taken long enough that I was almost late, so I scurried up to my office.

  And almost jumped out of my skin when I saw Zac sitting in my chair.

  “Wh-what are you doing?”

  “As head of this department, I thought I’d see how you’re settling in, Ritson.” He spoke loudly enough that his voice would carry to those around us.

  “Oh. Uh, fine. Fine.” I tried to signal with only my eyes that he should get the fuck out of my chair, out of my office, and out of my sight. How the hell could I concentrate on work with his body so close to me?

  He let that charming smile of his flash at me for a second, then stood. As he squeezed past me, he leaned in close and muttered, low enough that nobody else could hear.

  “Missing you already, asshole.”

  Before I could even reply he was out of there and heading up the hallway, leaving me with a muddled head and a hard-on.

  I started to wonder if maybe getting fired would be a blessing in disguise. Working in a new job was tough enough without my brain having to fight my cock to get enough blood to function.

  The morning passed in another blur. Phone calls, spreadsheets, meetings. As soon as I could, I crept away to the break room for a coffee.

  To my surprise, Miriam was already in there, standing much as Zac had been the day before. Eyes glued to the city, back to the door. The only difference was, she had a phone clutched to her ear rather than a mug of cold coffee.

  “I know.” Her voice was low, almost timid. If I wasn’t mistaken there was even a touch of actual emotion in there. “I know, yes. And I’m sorry. I’ll never stop being sorry. No, you know I can’t. Please...” She leaned her hand and her head against the window, as if reaching out to whoever was on the line. “Okay. Yes, I’ll tell him if you don’t.”

  She suddenly seemed to register she wasn’t alone. The way she straightened her spine, and stiffened every muscle. She gave a small cough and iced her voice over. “Yes, well, I need to get back to it. Goodbye.”

  She spun quickly and speared me with only her eyes. “Ritson.” Turning her attention to the doorway she marched past me.

  “Everything okay, Miriam?”

  She hesitated for a second, as if I’d poked right between the plates of her armor. “Everything is rather a broad term, Ritson.” She seemed to regain her poise or her anger or whatever it was that fueled her through the day, and marched out.

  Chapter Eight

  The afternoon passed much like the morning, in a blur of work which seemed far more numbing than I’d imagined it would. Only my second day in, and nothing seemed to fit. Nothing except Zac.

  My phone rang, cutting through my self-pity.

  “Nathaniel Ritson.”

  “Hey, handsome.”

  “Clare?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “What can I do for you?”

  She let loose with a throaty chuckle. “Well, that’s a loaded question from a good-looking boy like you. Hey, don’t worry. I’m only joking. I know which side you butter your bread.”

  “Uh...what?”

  “Oh my god, I’m using code, you big, gay freak. To be subtle.”

  “Ah. Subtlety.”

  She chuckled again. “People say it’s one of my finest qualities, you fucking dick.”

  “Oh, yes. That and diplomacy.”

  “Ooh.” She lowered her voice to a raspy drawl. “Now, I like you. Zac has great taste. And speaking of Zac—”

  “I can put you through to him if you want.”

  “Uh-uh. I’m not allowed to call him at work, in case daddy dear finds out. Could you just ask him to meet me tonight at Behrens, please? 8pm. And you should feel free to tag along.”

  I jotted the details down on a scrap of paper
. “Okay. Got it.”

  “Thanks, handsome. Hope to see you there.”

  I hung up and looked at the note. Behrens. One of the most expensive restaurants in the city, of course. I shook my head in resignation, somehow surprised once again how easily the rich could spend.

  For a little while I pondered on the coldness of Lionel Scanlon’s treatment of his children. He obviously knew the various ways Clare buttered her bread, thanks to the video. It wasn’t clear if she’d been entirely disowned by him or not, but it seemed that way.

  And then there was the matter of Zac. While there was no doubt in my mind that he was as gay as hell, it seemed Lionel was holding onto something—a belief, a disbelief, maybe even a blind hope—that his son was a real man. A spittin’, shootin’, rapin’ son-of-a-bitch who pissed fire and settled vendettas with nothing more than his fists and charisma. Or some fucked-up idiocy like that.

  As if I’d conjured the man with black magic, Lionel Scanlon suddenly filled the doorway of my office.

  “Ritson. You want to explain last night?”

  Fuck. This was it: My resumé-defining termination.

  “Last night, sir?”

  “It appears you’ve been fraternizing with those you shouldn’t.” There was no real fire in his voice or his eyes, which struck me as odd. There was even a tone of confusion as he spoke.

  “Sir, I’m not following.”

  “That dirty slut who used to be my daughter? I’m told you were with her last night.” He stepped inside and pushed the door closed with his foot. “You can’t have it both ways, you little queen.”

  Plenty of folks do. I caught my tongue before I could actually say it out loud.

  “Look,” he continued. “I didn’t say it before because I didn’t think there was cause. But both my children are out of bounds to you. The only reason you’re here is to force Zachary to shed his impure thoughts. That other whore...well, I was informed you weren’t interested in anything she had to offer.”

  There really wasn’t a tactful way to answer the man, so I kept my silence. There was simply too much wrong with everything he said, I wouldn’t know where to start in any case.

  “Don’t get me wrong,” he continued. “I’m long past caring who does what to Clare. She’s made her own bed and has to lie in it. If there’s any fucking room for her.” Lionel checked his watch and pulled my office door open again. “But you are not to distract yourself with her. You have one job here, girly-man. I want Zachary fixed as soon as possible.”

  “Fixed?”

  “Don’t play stupid. Fixed. Back on the straight and narrow. He’s to take over as CEO when I retire. I need a Scanlon in the role, and he’s the only one available.”

  “Sir, what about—”

  “Don’t even think about saying it, faggot. You fucking bleeding-heart liberals really make me stew.”

  “Sir?”

  “Even if my daughter hadn’t become a whore...she’s still only a woman.”

  His words hit like a baseball bat, and made me wish I had one. Violence solves nothing but sometimes, for the right person, the idea of it was so fucking attractive. I tensed my fists, truly believing I was destined to assault the man. Thankfully, he turned and walked out before I could.

  Chapter Nine

  It took me over an hour to get myself back under control after Lionel left my office. Nothing he’d said was anything new to me. I’d heard shit like that since I came out. Hell, even before I came out I couldn’t avoid folks spewing hate. At least back then it wasn’t aimed at me.

  But no insult that had been hurled at me had ever stung like Lionel Scanlon’s scorn at his own children. Not just because Zac had been my friend in school and had now become my lover. It was also the way the man steamrolled half a century of women’s rights. It was like the sexual revolution had never happened.

  If he couldn’t see the value of his own kids—gay, bi, straight or whatever—then he was the one missing out. Unfortunately, it meant Zac and Clare were missing out on a hell of a lot, too.

  At least Lionel had allowed me to decide one thing; I never knew my own father, but I was now certain that was preferable to growing up under the iron fist of a bigoted asshole.

  Just before five, Zac came to my office, that sweet goofy grin on his gorgeous face. The moment he saw me, it faded and he stepped inside.

  “What’s wrong, Nate?” He closed the door and sat across from me. “Don’t tell me. Father?”

  I gave him a curt nod. This was still something I couldn’t discuss, and not just because it would get me fired if Lionel found out. Now I felt complicit in the whole thing. If Zac learned of his father’s plan, then he’d likely hate me as well. After all, he was unaware of the stakes. I’d known exactly the danger we’d be in and still I’d fucked him.

  Finally I found my voice. “He paid me a visit, yeah.”

  “Sorry, buddy. He’s a bit of a dinosaur but he’s a hell of a businessman.” He glanced over his shoulder then leaned in to me. “I think of him as a T-Rex. That’d explain why he’s so fucking grumpy all the time.”

  “What, ravenous and roaring?”

  “I was thinking more about the tiny arms.” He shot me a quick wink. “Wouldn’t you be pissed if you could never jerk off?”

  A sharp burst of laughter shot from my throat before I could control myself. It was the first time I could recall Zac saying anything about his father which included any real emotion. And it reminded me of Clare’s message.

  “Hey, your sister called before. Wants to meet you at Behrens at 8.”

  “Cool. You wanna come with?”

  “I can’t afford that kind of thing.” At least pleading poor I could refuse without it seeming personal. A public place like that, filled with Lionel Scanlon’s cronies, was the ideal way to get caught out.

  Zac half-closed his eyes in a distinct get the fuck out of here way. “I invited you. So it’s my treat.”

  “I thought Clare was persona non grata?”

  Zac sighed. “Yeah, she is. But she’s my sister. And until you, she was my only lifeline.” He ran his hands along his thighs, as if cleaning lint off his pants. “Truth is, I’m all at sea here. I don’t have the business smarts. Clare got all that. Why do you think her damn video got so much notice?”

  “I thought because she’s beautiful and famous, and people are natural voyeurs.”

  “All true, but these days a sex video is almost par for the course. The difference was, Clare knew how to market it without anyone even knowing she had.” He stood and walked to the door. “So she coaches me. As much as I can be coached, anyway. Coming?”

  “You sure you want to be seen with the likes of me? Poor gutter trash.” I gave him a weak little smile to cover how deeply his father had affected me.

  He flipped me the bird as he smiled back. “Well, it’s no good for my rep, but I think I can manage.”

  I shouldn’t. I knew I should just go home, and leave the rich folk to their machinations. Let the siblings talk in private without the third wheel. Mom would be worried about me, in any case.

  But the thought of being somewhere Zac wasn’t left me feeling lonelier than ever. It was too soon to call this anything yet, but it was something I needed to explore further...much further. Zac affected me like nobody else ever had.

  “We’re gonna have to be careful about it. Your father and all.”

  Zac rubbed his chin. “You think I don’t know that?”

  “I’m sure you do. But I really can’t afford—”

  “Ugh. Always with affording this and affording that. I get it. You’re poor. Buddy, I got you covered. It’s just money.”

  His sudden outburst was like a punch in the balls. It wasn’t simply the gulf in our fortunes, but the way he treated it like it was nothing at all. Like a spoilt brat. When I spoke again it was through severely gritted teeth. “I was going to say I can’t afford to get fired.”

  “Oh. Uh, sorry.”

  “Look, maybe it’s b
est you go alone tonight.”

  “Nate, I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean—”

  “No, you did, and it’s true. For you it’s nothing. How could you know what it’s like for me? You grew up with everything I lacked. Why wouldn’t you rub it in my fucking face?”

  I grabbed my stuff and walked out past him. It hurt like hell to be angry at him so quickly after feeling something pretty close to love for him. But maybe that’s how love worked. It sucked you in, then sucker-punched you out. Whatever it was, all I knew was I had to be away from Zac. For a hundred different reasons.

  Thankfully, once again, he was either too proud or too wounded to follow. The elevator ride was a lonely one, and the city streets were colder than ever. It took me an hour on the bus to finally make it home.

  It was the longest hour in the world.

  Chapter Ten

  “Natey, what’s wrong?”

  As always, mom could read me like a tabloid. The moment I walked into the apartment she came over and wrapped me in one of her warm hugs.

  “A little trouble at the office. Nothing I can’t handle.”

  “Hmph. Any wonder, working with those people. And where did you get that suit?”

  “Those people?”

  She released the hug and headed for the kitchen. “The Scanlons. They’re more trouble than they’re worth. Hot chocolate?”

  “No thanks, mom. And you don’t know them. They’re not all bad.”

  Mom froze for a second and then turned back to me. “Oh, honey. You’re not going there again?”

  “Going where?”

  “That Scanlon boy already screwed you up once. Don’t let him get inside your head again.”

  Just like mom to take my side, no matter what. That was what moms were for, I guess.

  “It’s...it’s kinda too late for that, mom.”

  A sudden knocking at the apartment door made me jump. Nobody came to visit us except the odd debt collector. Before I could move, though, mom breezed past me and blocked my way.