by Anne Conley
He scoffed at himself. This project was getting the best of him. He couldn’t know all that based on two chance encounters with the woman. Now he was just making shit up.
But she had softened during their meeting today. Her delicate features had shone with a hidden strength inside her. He needed to know more about her.
And he knew next time he saw her, he was going to ask her out. And he was going to be as insistent as he could. Because chance encounter or not, every time he was around her, something boiled up inside him, needing release. And Jake wanted to explore that feeling.
In Simon’s office at Pierce Securities, Miriam fidgeted. She was exhausted, yesterday having taken a toll on her emotionally. “I know I’m behind on the contracts and paperwork, but I can work on them in the mornings and early afternoon.” She was trying not to adjust her bra-strap, but it was hard. Her prosthetic breasts had come in and today was her first day wearing them. It was nice to not have tube socks stuffed under a compression bandage, but the silicone inserts were heavy. She didn’t remember her actual boobs feeling like this at all; the straps were cutting into her shoulders.
“I can do the damn paperwork.” Simon’s voice had an edge, but she was used to it. He wanted someone to read his mind, but it was an impossibility she had yet to figure out. “I want you to get this job done and get out of there. Quinten told me about the conversation you overheard, and if Javier is who I think he is, Calahan is in debt to Tres Lobos. You need to finish this job fast.”
“Okay, if we know it’s Tres Lobos he’s dealing with, doesn’t that answer the client’s question?”
Simon shook his head. “We need confirmation. And if he owes them the money, then that’s not where it went. He’s apparently borrowed from them in addition to his parents. I’m afraid you’re there a little while longer.” He sighed and continued reluctantly, “But your safety is more important to me. If at any point you feel like you are in danger, you’re out. Got it?”
Heat filled Miriam at the memory of Jake in the park earlier. “What about a seduction? I can do that, and it might make it faster. Guys like pillow talk, you know?” She didn’t mention it would make her feel better about herself if she could follow through with the on again off again chemistry they seemed to have.
“Guys don’t like pillow talk, Mir.” Another sigh escaped him, and Simon rubbed the back of his neck in thought. He was silent for a while. “Seduction goes against everything I stand for.” His voice sounded pained.
“But it’s not the client. It’s the mark. Seduction is just a tool.” She paused, doubt creeping in. Dammit. “Unless you don’t think I can?”
“Of course you can. Jesus. Miriam. I’m just worried about you, is all. You go into this guy’s bar, and you’re working too hard. You just had that surgery, and I don’t know how you’re doing with everything. I’m just afraid this is too much for you. You’re trying to actually be a bar manager, when in reality you just need to do the bare minimum to keep yourself from getting fired. In addition to that, you’re still trying to do the office manager thing here. I worry it’s too much.”
She couldn’t tell Simon it was just what she needed. “You worry too much, Simon.” She reached across his desk and patted his hand. “Okay, I’ll do the bare minimum both places. It won’t be hard here. I’ve barely even seen the file for the job I’m working on, much less any of the others. I’ll try to keep both of my jobs. I’ll seduce Calahan and get the information we need… where the money went, right?”
“Right. But keep it as clean as you can, and don’t do anything you’re not comfortable with.”
She flashed Simon a smile and stood, unable to stop her hand from flying to her shoulder to adjust her strap as she left.
Joe knew his fingers would be sticky from this bitch’s hair by the time he was done with her, but it was necessary for her to go deep enough on his dick. The fact he even noticed was testament to her epically awful blowjob skills.
“Come on… Go deep…” he moaned as he pushed himself down her throat. If she would just gag or swallow or something, her throat muscles would contract around him and the vibrations would feel better than this. “Come on… Suck it, bitch.”
She whimpered something, and he felt that, fisted her hair, and pushed her face down on his crotch.
He thought about his new office manager. Christ, that woman had a fucking fantastic mouth on her. He allowed himself to pretend those were the lips wrapped around his cock. Yeah…
He needed to get something on her, then he could enjoy that mouth all he wanted to, and he wouldn’t have to go travelling down Sixth Street to find someone to suck his dick.
Maybe he could get her to do some lines with him and then he’d have her owing him favors to keep him quiet. God knew with Bo gone, he could only get Ashley to do so much. He could only count on her for a couple times a week—her husband was a big motherfucker.
He could get her to do the gun run to Mexico but didn’t quite know how to wrap his head around that one. Maybe he could tell her she was picking up some sort of rare tequila only sold in Mexico and not anywhere else. Doubtful. She didn’t seem the type to do anything illegal.
Jake would love her. Pussy.
He gripped his whore’s hair tighter before he let go of it. “Get out of the car. I need to stand up.” He needed her bent over, hands against a wall. That would do it.
As they went into the alley next to where he had parked, he yanked her skirt up and slipped on a condom before bending her at the waist. “Spit on your hand and make yourself wet.” There was no way he was touching her shit with his hand.
“I’m hot for you, baby,” she crooned, but did as he asked.
“Fuck, you’re hot for the meth you’re going to get in ten minutes. But first I want that pussy wet for me.”
He slammed himself home and began pumping automatically in and out of the whore. He focused on her spread fingers against the brick wall as he fought the thoughts consuming him. He’d gotten the whore for a reason.
To forget.
To forget Tres Lobos were going to kill him. To forget he’d betrayed everyone who ever loved him. To forget he was a worthless human being who didn’t deserve even their hatred.
To forget.
Of course, he couldn’t do that completely. He still had to try to make shit right. And that included guns.
He pumped harder¸ faster, trying desperately to not think about the Craigslist ads he was placing. Answering. The pawn shops he’d checked out. The corner thugs he’d accosted.
He pulled out of the hooker. “Turn around. Let me see those tits,” he growled at her, and she did it, pulling her shirt down. Joe jacked himself, jizzing all over her saggy tits, wishing they were Miriam’s. Fuck yeah…
Tossing two twenties at her feet, he walked off in search of more guns.
Jake Calahan didn’t come into the bar that night. Miriam presumed he out buying guns from wherever someone went to do that. She did get to escort her first drunk out, calling him a cab under Quinten’s watchful eye. Other than that, the night was uneventful, being Monday, and she went home after closing time, exhausted—intent on catching up on some much-needed rest.
Miriam decided she hated Jake’s bar persona. That’s what she had decided it was, because he was so different when she ran into him outside the bar. He must have some sort of agenda for being such a sleaze ball inside the bar. She couldn’t figure out what it was, though.
It was impossible to reconcile the two personalities. Every time he was inside the bar, it was no stretch imagining his oily façade being up to his neck in dealings with one of the scariest drug gangs in Austin. But outside the bar, he was a loving dad, an insightful photographer, a wine connoisseur—someone she could actually like.
She couldn’t stop thinking about him. The mystery of Jake Calahan was taking up most of her waking thoughts. And it seemed like he was always around; she ran into him everywhere.
So she wasn’t all that surprised when sh
e ran into him while she was Christmas shopping.
Realizing her plans of seduction totally involved this persona, and not the bar one—at least in her mind—she approached him, gathering all the self-confidence she could. And even faking some.
“Hey.” He spun around, and she couldn’t stop the giggle that rose at his reaction. He was initially surprised, but it immediately melted into a pleased smile, exposing straight, white teeth that dazzled. She didn’t even try to stop the warmth seeping inside her.
He looked like the Jake she liked, wearing jeans and a navy blue hoodie which made his eyes sparkle. He looked… normal. One of his hands was tucked into his pocket, and she noticed how strong they looked. Strong and graceful.
“Hey yourself,” he chuckled. “You scared me.”
She’d realized this morning, when Simon told her to take the day off, that she hadn’t done any Christmas shopping, and it was nearly time. Miriam didn’t have many gifts to buy, but she did need to get the guys something. Of course, now that she’d run into Jake, she wouldn’t be doing any of that. How would it look to be flirting with one guy and buying four other men presents?
“Shopping for someone?” He was staring into the window of one of Austin’s landmarks, Lucky Lizard Curios and Gifts, home of the Museum of the Weird.
“My son, yeah. He’s been wanting one of those giant lizard things for years.” He seemed reticent to talk about his son with her, but she could see the pride shining in his eyes, and it sent the familiar pang through her.
Not letting on she had spied on them playing basketball, she asked, “You have a son?”
“Yup. He’s ten, going on nineteen. But he’s always had a thing for lizards. He wants a live iguana, but I don’t think his mother would like that much.” Rubbing his chin thoughtfully, he continued, “On second thought, maybe that’s not a bad idea…”
“So you’re divorced?” It was an abrupt question, and she regretted her lack of tact almost as soon as it came out. His face darkened, and Miriam realized it was a touchy subject. She hoped the bar persona didn’t make an appearance. She tried to cushion the blow with a smile, and it seemed to relax him a little.
“Yeah.” He didn’t seem willing to talk about it much, and the air between them suddenly got awkward. She shuffled her feet, trying to come up with something to say, but he beat her with, “What about you? Are you attached to anybody?” He looked hopeful, and that bolstered Miriam’s confidence.
That was a shocking question coming from him. He’d ogled her and slapped her ass in the bar, never once caring if she had a boyfriend or husband who would come kick his butt for manhandling her. Idly she wondered if he had some sort of personality disorder. If she did get a chance to ask him about the money, would he even know if his other personality had done something with it? A hysterical giggle escaped her at the thought. Or it could be drugs. Probably drugs. Why else would someone get involved with Tres Lobos?
She was studying him, desperately seeking answers, when he cleared his throat and she realized she hadn’t answered his question. “No. I’m not attached to anybody.”
He flashed her the charming smile she’d caught glimpses of and asked, “Can I take you out for drinks or something this week? I told myself I wouldn’t run into you again without asking you out.” He seemed almost shy, but his eyes sparkled with anticipation, and the blue orbs pierced her. God, he didn’t seem to realize how sexy he was.
“Sure. I’m off tomorrow night,” she reminded him. Remembering Simon’s warning to her, she added, “We can meet somewhere.”
“What about here?” His smile was infectious, and she was catching it. “Eight?”
“Perfect.”
He bounced on the balls of his feet. “Awesome. Uh, I’m going to get this lizard, do you want to come with me?”
“No, I’ve got some shopping to do myself. And my boss is a total slave driver,” she teased. She was new at the seduction game, but she remembered to leave them wanting more. Anticipation ratcheted her nerves, and she was suddenly hyper-sensitive to everything.
Jake took a step closer to her and reached out to touch her hair. “I’m really looking forward to seeing you again.” As if in slow motion, he bent, his aftershave tickling her nose, creating a delightful sensation in her body. It filled with warmth, and she felt her heart pick up its thrumming beat. When he swept his mouth across her cheek, the dichotomy of his soft lips and his razor stubble sent a wave of intense desire coursing through her.
It was so unexpected, Miriam didn’t react. She could only focus on the sensations of his cheek brushing against hers, the warmth of his skin, and the sudden overpowering aroma of his aftershave. By the time she had recovered, he had ducked inside the shop.
Well, that didn’t work out the way she’d thought. Instead of leaving him wanting more, she was the one who was a puddle of mess on the sidewalk.
Miriam managed to get her shopping done in record time, finding a thoughtful gift for each of her guys as well as their girls. She really liked Krista and Paige, and was grateful Ryan and Evan had found women to make them happy. She hoped all her boys could find that. Unfortunately, it seemed Quinten was intent on finding it with her, and she just didn’t feel that way toward him. He had taken to driving her home after work at the bar, for which she was grateful. But it seemed her appreciation for the polite gesture was being taken wrong. He hadn’t made any moves on her yet, but he seemed to be working up the nerve. She was planning on talking to him about it tonight.
Meanwhile, she arrived at the bar to find Ashley and Mr. Calahan in the office, bent over lines of coke neatly made on the desktop. Her breath left her in a rush. This was a party she didn’t want to walk in on, and all of her warm, fuzzy feelings toward the man dissipated. She had actually been looking forward to seeing him again. Flirting a little on the job. What an idiot.
“Oops. Sorry.” She tried to back out of the office before Calahan got mad, but instead he beamed at her, that flashy smile which seemed oily inside the bar.
“Wait, Miriam. Come here.” He waved her back into the tiny office.
Miriam couldn’t think fast enough to figure a way out of this, so she resigned herself to face it head-on. “Okay.”
“You party?” Mr. Calahan seemed eager for her to join them, like he’d been waiting for her to bust in on them doing this. Wouldn’t most people try to hide it? Sweep it off the desk? Who the fuck did this?
“Um… not really.” God, no wonder he seemed so weird sometimes. He was high. She wanted to ask if this was where the money came from, but knew that wouldn’t work.
“You should.” He measured some of the white powder with a tiny metal scoop. Holding it out across the desk, he offered it to her. “It’ll help you focus and put you in a less bitchy mood. Besides, it makes everything go by so fast.”
Was this a test? Did she need to pass it? Did he know she’d been listening at his office door when he’d been talking to Javier? She studied his face, and his blue eyes held a glint of danger, even with the pupils dilated an outrageous amount. Her eyes darted to the tiny scoop. Surely that wasn’t enough to do much. She wouldn’t be high long, would she?
His mouth curled into a sneer, and it showed his canines—sharp, pointy teeth which suddenly seemed wolfish. She reminded herself this was a seduction, even though if Simon knew about this, he would pull her off the job in a heartbeat. Then she couldn’t finish. And she had something to prove to herself. At least, that’s how it had started.
Without allowing herself to think about it anymore, she bent, held one nostril, and inhaled deeply, like she’d seen in the movies. A whooshing sound momentarily filled her brain, and she was suddenly alarmingly lightheaded. It’s only a drug. It’ll be out of my system soon.
“Atta girl. I knew you were cool. Now go on. Today’s inventory day.” Suddenly, all of her games of ‘What’s the worst that can happen?’ took a downward turn. If drugs were involved, that leant a certain irrational twist to the entire scenario.
Like the fact she had just taken a bump of cocaine. Christ, what had she gotten into?
“Wait. I came in here for something.” Searching her brain, Miriam knew she had a reason for barging in on him in the first place. “Oh, yeah! Are you ever going to come out and meet Quinten? He doesn’t even know what you look like.”
“I don’t need to. He’s doing a good job, and he’s not stealing from me.” Calahan waved his arms around. “Besides, I don’t want him to feel inferior to my handsome mug.”
Rolling her eyes, she turned and left to do inventory.
Which was good, because she was talking too loud. And too fast. When he’d told her everything was faster, she didn’t realize he meant everything.
She went behind the bar to get her clipboard and nudged Quinten to the side, trying not to make eye contact. He would know. Paranoia filled her, followed quickly by dread. He would totally kick her ass. And then tell Simon, and after he kicked her ass, too, he’d probably fire her.
A familiar voice brought her face up from behind the bar, that icky feeling of dread intensifying.
“Stella, please.” She didn’t have the sense to avoid this conflict. In fact, she suddenly relished it.
“Sure thing,” responded Quinten.
Quinten had never met her ex-husband face to face, or else he would never be able to speak to him in such an affable manner. Every time she brought him up or talked about him at all, the topic sent the guys into a growly, alpha rage.
“Vince?” She should have stayed under the bar, but something had her sneering at her ex-husband instead.
It was him. Perfect for this place, really. If she didn’t know better, she would think just entering this bar brought an oily sheen to everyone. With his dark hair slicked back, and smarmy smile broadening his face, he looked every bit the lying, manipulative, possessive sneak she remembered.
