by Holley Trent
She twisted her lips to the right and chewed the inside of her cheek. How was she supposed to feel? Well, aroused, yes, there was that. Okay, a lot of that. She could even see working with him and being romantically involved simultaneously, but keeping everything behind closed doors? No public affection whatsoever? That was a tough sell.
It wasn’t that she was the gushing, clinging sort of woman at all, but there was a little part of her that liked having a man wrap an arm around her waist possessively when they walked down a street. When she belonged to someone, she wanted people to know it.
The way he looked at her with so much affection after only three days made her curious about his hesitance. Probably wouldn’t matter anyway. Just when her relationships started getting serious, the men always made excuses and dumped her. Even when things seemed downright euphoric, out of the blue there’d be some cop-out excuse: “Mandy, I think we need to take some time apart. You deserve better than me and I want you to know that.” Or, “I’ve been considering taking a job on the other coast. It wouldn’t be fair to you.”
Aaron gave her a nudge. She must have looked catatonic. “Mandy?”
“One month,” she said, staring at the road.
“I’m sorry?”
Slowly, she turned her head toward him, managing a weak smile. “Nothing.”
No, not nothing! This thing probably has a one-month expiration date. We’ll have sex and next month we’ll pretend nothing ever happened. Are you okay with that, or are you gonna fall in love this guy who’s already said he can’t keep you?
He dragged the rough pad of his thumb across her jaw and angled her face up to his. When his lips crushed hers and his tongue lapped her mouth, she forgot what she was philosophizing about. Didn’t seem important.
CHAPTER 9
Mandy’s fingers felt like satin against Aaron’s naked chest as she swirled her fingertips down lower and lower, caressing his skin as the suction of her lips made his nipples harden and pucker. Then she pressed those fabulous breasts with their caramel-colored areola against his belly and pulled his face down into a kiss he gladly returned.
Even holding the semi-nude woman in his arms and forcing his hands between their bodies to unlatch the catch of her jeans, he felt what he was doing was absolutely reprehensible. Her consent, in the greater scheme of things, meant nothing. Had his father not have been sitting on the high throne of the North Carolina executive branch, they probably wouldn’t be parked on the second abandoned property in three days hiding out like school kids sneaking off to smoke. She’d be in the front passenger seat of his SUV where he could properly bore her to death about engineering and volunteerism, and maybe afterward they’d go somewhere small and quiet for dinner to eat a meal without some stranger engaging him in debate about his father’s policies. He didn’t give a shit about his father’s policies.
She needed a man that could put her up on a pedestal, not one he’d hide behind a computer and a firewall and keep out of public sight. But what choice did he have? If Rick ever caught wind of this new woman in his life, the man would have her entire life analyzed and laid bare before his father who’d make the ultimate judgment: “Dump her. It’s bad for the campaign.” He was prepared to do no such thing.
She broke her lock of his lips and slid off the hood of the car, beckoning him to follow with a cheeky grin. When the soles of his brogues touched the ground, her nimble fingers were already at his belt buckle, loosening the strap and then pulling it free. She unbuttoned his pants, unzipped them, and helped them down past the erection tenting his boxer briefs.
She danced her fingers lightly over the silky hair at his waistband then plunged her hands into his shorts without further prelude.
He sucked in a breath and held it as her fingers tightened around his aching hard cock.
She extracted one hand and used it to nudge his elastic waistband past his hips and down to join his pants around his ankles. The edges of her lips quirked up into a smile, then he was in her warm mouth and nearly down her throat.
“Oh, shit.”
For a moment he was unsure of what to do with his hands. Usually, he’d have absolutely no compunction about grabbing the back of a woman’s head and demonstrating how exactly he liked it. Those women hadn’t had Mandy’s class, which admittedly was probably the wrong noun to be thinking about while her lips were around his shaft. He ended up grabbing his own hair at the back, and praying to the god of debauchery it’d still be there by the time she was done. Fortunately, that didn’t seem like it would be a long time off.
He watched the gentle sway of her soft breasts as she worked, admired the gloss of her dark hair brushing against the front of his thighs, and felt the warmth of her hands as she cupped his scrotum and applied friction to the base of his cock.
“I feel like this … is really … one-sided.” He gasped; looking up into the clear blue sky and trying quell his need for immediate release. “I think I still … owe you … from yesterday.”
She skimmed her teeth gently against the top of his shaft and backed up just enough to say, “I’ll make you pay up” and then she went back to work.
It sounded something like a threat to him, but one he’d gladly stay up all night to receive the follow-up to. He wondered what he had done right in life to have literally stumbled into the woman bowed in front of him. It must have been something pretty damn good.
Finally, he did grab her hair, but not to guide himself deeper into her mouth, but instead to do the opposite. He held her back and removed his cock from her mouth right before he fertilized the ground.
He stood there against the car for a long moment, panting and staring at the little vixen in front of him who’d merely wiped the moisture from her lips, pushed her bangs away from her eyes, and stood back to watch him catch his breath.
He didn’t know what to say. “Thank you?” “That was great?” Neither seemed appropriate. Fortunately she was all about business and let him off the hook.
“We should get back. You have a lot of paperwork to do, and I’m sure Archie is wondering what could possibly be taking so long for a test drive.”
“Yeah.” He kept his eyes on as he dressed, mumbling an oath when she fastened her bra. He wanted to see the full package, all at once. But, that would have to wait until the next time. The next time he needed to hide her away.
• • •
Mandy waited patiently as the Cars to Work crew efficiently purchased three more vehicles at AA1A. Two they parked to deliver later. The third, the one with the radiator damage, Frank hitched to the back of his tow truck. When Archie asked him where he was going, Frank succinctly handed Archie his notice, gave him a mock salute, and said, “See you, sucker.” He would drive it back to Durham for Aaron and Eleanor to deal with later.
“I guess you don’t want that last check, huh?” Archie shouted while chasing after the vehicles — quite a feat for his unexercised self. Before he could stroke out from the exertion, Frank stopped at the shoulder, rolled down the passenger side window of the truck and shouted, “Oh, you’re going to pay me. You owe me months of pay for miles and gas I put on my truck. You don’t want me to sue, Archie.”
Mike walked up to stand between Aaron and Mandy and whistled low. “Well, that’s embarrassing.”
Aaron shrugged. “Hey, offer still stands for that procurement position. Let me know. I’ll hold it open for a while. I don’t know anyone better suited for the gig, and that’s not because I haven’t been looking.”
Mike didn’t look convinced. “Yeah, thanks.”
Without another word to Mandy, Aaron gathered up his crew and loaded the SUV.
She and Mike watched him smile knavishly and wave goodbye to Archie as he drove out of the lot, heading north on 32.
“My turn, I guess,” she said low.
Mike raised one red eyebrow and cro
ssed his arms over his chest. “You really think now is the best time? I never took you as the sort of girl who had a death wish. Where’d your sense of self-preservation go?”
She gave him a playful punch in the shoulder. “It’s still there, but my sense of pride is just floating a little higher right now.”
He grimaced. “Well, how ’bout later at home? Might be less traumatizing for the rest of the staff if we keep Dad’s tantrum confined to the manse.”
His expression alone was worth a chuckle. “I know, but I’d rather leave business at work and avoid him at home like I always do. I guess I’ll be moving out as soon as the archduke writes me my commission check.”
He scrunched up his face. “Good luck, honey. You want some back-up? I’d hate to see you cut down in the prime of your life.”
“No, but maybe keep my car running and the door open for me in case I need to make a quick getaway?”
“I think we’re probably overestimating Dad’s reaction.”
“Really? I think we’re underestimating it. I just happen to be in a good mood at the moment.”
“Good luck?”
“Hey, Mike? Make that sound less like a question and try again.”
He snapped his fingers and gave her the thumbs-up. “Good luck, lady.”
“Much better.”
She took a deep, centering breath before climbed the concrete block stairs. Good mood or not, she moved slowly as if she were marching up to the gallows. When she pulled open the storm door, she could see her mother in the hospitality lounge organizing snack cakes by expiration date.
Shit. No hope for privacy, huh?
Mandy tried to smooth her face to pleasantness before Mom turned around.
“Hot out there, huh?” Mom commented from the tiered cake stand.
“Yeah, it’s pretty toasty.” Mandy pushed her bangs back from her sweaty forehead and allowed herself a brief pep talk. You can do it, girlie. Think about it the money once the transition’s over. Haircuts! Manicures!
She was flying sky high, but then the sound of Archie shuffling paper in the office made her belly flip.
Oy.
She hovered near the door, wringing her hands and chewing on the inside of her cheeks as she summoned up her nerve.
Mom closed the overhead snack cabinet, turned around, and rested her rear against the counter’s edge. She laced her fingers together in front of her belly and cocked her head to the side with a wide grin, seemingly oblivious to her daughter’s distress. “I’m so proud of you for playing nice these past few days, Miranda. When everyone works together, everyone reaps the benefits. I’m glad you see that now. You could thrive here if you really put the effort into it, huh? Maybe work as hard as you did at Ermine’s?”
Mandy stared blankly at her mother and resisted the urge to roll her eyes in the manner she’d witnessed Elly perform. “Yeah, about that … ”
The sound of plastic being slammed against plastic reverberated through the trailer. Archie had hung up the phone, and being in the office with him at the moment seemed a less uncomfortable thing than enduring her clueless mother’s encouragement. Mandy gave Mom a little wave and shuffled to the doorway of Archie’s office.
She’d never felt her heart beat so hard before, not even the day of Archie and Mom’s wedding when Mandy had talked herself into raising her hand when the priest asked if anyone had objections to the holy union. On that day, she was so scared she’d had to hover around the bathroom until the absolute last moment due to her stomach’s persistent lack of cooperation and temporary resistance to TUMS.
The wedding coordinator had grabbed her by the arm and forced her away from her bathroom stall into the line-up in the vestibule. Mandy was maid of honor. She swayed all the way through the ceremony, and as soon as the priest asked, she was so nervous the wrong hand shot into the air, sending her bouquet flying into the pulpit where it disbanded at the feet of the minister.
The wedding coordinator had made Mandy’s blundering seem as if she had suffered a seizure and ran up the aisle with a wet cloth in her hand. She forced Mandy down to the carpet to fan her face, dabbed her forehead, then announced in a loud voice: “It’s all right folks! I think we need to get some food into her! It’s been a big morning for Miranda.”
Abi, in the pews, had scoffed loudly at the outsider’s assessment then mumbled something in Castilian. Fifteen-year-old Mike, on the groom’s side, had chuckled until big brother Donald nudged him in the ribs and told him to “Grow the Hell up.” Adriana stood cold and frozen the entire time. Archie growled while turning an unhealthy shade of purple. The coordinator dragged Mandy down the aisle to the vestibule then kept her locked up until she had to stand in the receiving line. It had been a horrible evening, and the end result of the blessed event turned out to be her very first stomach ulcer.
“Hey, Archie, can I talk to you for a minute?”
Archie looked up from the coffee splotch he was dabbing off his short-sleeved white button-up shirt. “About what?”
She wrung her hands. “I’m sure this is rather inopportune timing with you planning the big referral event, but I want to make sure you have plenty of time to make, um … ” She darted her gaze away from his hard expression and shifted her weight to the other foot. “ … staffing changes if necessary.”
Bullshit.
She was pretty sure she’d heard Archie telling her mother he already had an old feed sales buddy on deck waiting for her spot on the staff. He’d probably already filled out his wage withholding forms and picked a start date.
Archie stopped dabbing and raised one bushy red brow at her. “What kind of staffing changes?”
“Archie, I — ”
A bit of movement in her peripheral vision made her turn her head to find Mom standing behind her.
Shit. Great, ’cause I need an audience, right? Well, spit it out, girlie.
“I … I quit, Archie.”
He acted as if he hadn’t heard her, resuming the stippling of his coffee stain further into the weave of his shirt’s fabric.
Mom moved into the doorway and gave Mandy a cool look. Mandy tried to ignore the expression of betrayal, because she really didn’t understand the origin. After all, who had betrayed whom? Mandy hadn’t been the one to marry the Archduke of All Assholes. Hell, she hadn’t even been consulted in the matter.
She swallowed hard and turned her focus back to Archie. “Did you … did you hear me, Archie?”
“Yeah, I heard you.” He turned on his little desk light and aimed it toward the front of his shirt. “When are you going to pay me the rent you owe?”
That question made her take an involuntary step forward. “What rent? What are you talking about?”
“That’s right. Rent.” He stopped dabbing and stared at her. “You know, for living in my home all these weeks without pitching in? You’re twenty-seven. You should pitch in.”
She opened her mouth and closed it, shook her head, then scoffed. She leaned over the desk and wagged her index finger at him like a Sunday school teacher who’d caught a child tearing pages out of a hymnal. The fear she’d been feeling had suddenly abated. In its place was mounting rage. Her voice careened to a nearly inaudible pitch.
“What the Hell are you talking about? Rent? There was never a discussion about rent! The agreement was the same as the one you made with Mike. I’d work here at the lot in exchange for moving back into the house.”
Archie shrugged, nonplussed. “You should learn to get agreements in writing, Mandy. Just like those cars out there — they all say ‘Sold As Is.’ No warranties. It covers my ass. Folks can’t bring cars back.”
“My name is Miranda. And unfortunately — ” She whipped her head around to give her mother the scowl she deserved. “Children aren’t supposed to come with warranties. Shit happens. Sometimes
they need help and they have to move back in with their parents even when it’s the last thing on Earth they want to do.” She scoffed and threw up her hands. “You know what? In hindsight, maybe the women’s shelter in Raleigh would have been a preferable alternative. At least there I would have been treated with some goddamned dignity and not like the gum on the bottom of some fucking pompous blowhard’s shoe.”
Mom grabbed Mandy by the shoulder. “Miranda!”
Mandy swatted off her hand. “Don’t even.”
“Whatever,” Archie said. He turned off the light and then turned the little desk fan around to blow on the wet spot on his shirt. “Either you pay me rent or I absorb your commissions.”
At that, Mandy didn’t know how to respond. Aaron had purchased five vehicles and had an eye set on a couple more once he returned from his scheduled training event. She did the math in her head. The going rate for renting out a single bedroom she rarely came out of, having use of the bathroom and kitchen, and a place to park her car was probably worth five hundred bucks a month. She’d been home six weeks. She expected 200 bucks commission off each vehicle.
Not gonna happen, girlie. Look who you’re dealing with. He makes the rules and shifts the goalposts. Cut your losses.
She sighed. “My math says you owe me 250 bucks. Pay me.”
Archie guffawed. “Aren’t you a ballsy little bitch?”
“Okay, Archie, too much,” Mom piped in.
When Mandy looked at her, she was still wearing that betrayed expression and giving her daughter cool eyes. She had her limits, indefinable as they were. She didn’t know whose side to take and Mandy hated her for it.
Archie put his hands up, palms out, in a conciliatory gesture meant for his wife. He was kind to her, if not Mandy. He had married way up and everyone knew it.
“Fine.” He leaned to the side to wedge his overworked wallet out of the back of his pants. He counted out some bills and slid them across his desktop. When Mandy took a step forward to count it, Archie slapped his hand over the stack.
