by Cari Quinn
He’d practically dragged me out of the bar and now he had cold feet? With just a few pushes of a button music filled the room through the surround sound speakers—wired for me by Carlotta.
"That’s a lot better than that bouncy ass shit they played at the bar." Wade turned to me with a smile.
"I like that bouncy ass shit." I strolled the length of the couch, running my finger along the caramel suede cushions. By the time I reached the end, only a few feet separated us. Excitement over what was to come made me slightly jittery as I quickly covered the short distance separating us
"Won’t your friends worry about you?"
He pulled me into his arms. I gave myself over to the feel of his heavy hands on my hips and his broad chest plastered against my breasts.
"Nah," he said.
With heels on I was in the perfect position to snuggle up close, and gave in to the urge. Cheek to cheek, my lips less than an inch from a tantalizing earlobe, I closed my eyes and relaxed against him. His warm breath tickled my ear and danced down my neck as his hands slid down my back and cupped my bottom, leaving heat trails in their wake as he pulled me even tighter against him. Tight enough to feel the erection I’d left him with. Tight enough to feel the rumble deep in his chest as groaned, and months of anticipation and lust caught up with me.
I opened my eyes, that earlobe still temptingly near. Near enough to...I flicked my tongue out and gave it a tiny quick lick. When Wade didn’t respond—negatively anyway—I leaned up and pulled it between my lips for a slow hard suck, then traced the delicate ridges with my tongue.
"Do you have any idea what you’re doing?" His grip on my ass was now almost painful.
Laughing in the back of my throat, I nipped the tender flesh then sucked again to take the sting out.
"Where’s your bedroom?" he whispered.
"Who needs a bed?" I countered, chuckling softly to myself.
"I’m an old-fashioned kinda guy." He pushed me away and smiled.
With a nod, I led him down the dimly lit hall to my bedroom. I grinned at his soft snort of laughter. The girls and I had affectionately named it "my harem room," and for good reason. Multi-colored sheers shot through with gold thread hung at the windows and a coordinating duvet cover made up of silk squares on the king size bed. Bright purple, orange and yellow throw rugs on the floor completed the look.
Feminine just didn’t cover it.
"Not exactly what I expected from the boss lady."
"Mmmm, what did you expect?" I peeled my shirt over my head and tossed it on the floor. "Condoms are in the nightstand."
With a grin, Wade pushed me back onto the slippery silk and fell on top of me. He wiggled his hips, nudging my legs apart and settling between them. "I didn’t expect anything this colorful, but then, I never expected to see you French kissing another woman either."
"She French kissed me." Not that I’d minded. I only minded getting caught. I thrust my hips against his. "Is that a banana in your pocket?"
"No, I’m just happy to see you, darlin." He slowly thrust back, pressing against my tender, nerve-filled mound.
We stayed like that for a while, his fingers combing my hair, his lips hovering over mine, teasing, testing, exploring until I found myself insistently grinding my hips against his, seeking release. His stamina surprised me—pleasantly so. I’d expected him to be all over me the moment we hit the door.
"Hmm mmph. Not yet." He worked his way down my chest, biting and sucking at my taut nipples until I’d arched up toward him as high as I could, frustrated and achey as little sharp spikes of pleasure radiated through me. Then he slowly worked his way lower to the valley under my ribs, and lower still. I squirmed and giggled as his warm, wet tongue circled my belly button.
He laughed and sat up. Just sat there, staring at me with those warm green eyes until self-consciousness forced me to speak.
"What?"
"Just admiring the view." He continued to make long sweeps up and down the outsides of my legs. I heaved a sigh of relief and anticipation as he finally reached for the waistband of my lacy panties and pulled them down, flinging them over his shoulder with a grin.
Sitting up, I returned the favor, making it as far as shirt off, pants unzipped before I started teasing him. I couldn’t help myself, he was right there, in all his glory, his cock hot and hard and thick in my hand. With my legs still forced wide open by his position between my thighs, I cupped the smooth round cheeks of his buttocks and wrapped my lips around his cock. He was smooth and deliciously alive against my tongue.
He slowly pumped into my mouth, one hand fisted in my hair. His other hand found my nipple and gave a gentle tug that sent little electrical impulses straight to my pussy. Grunting as my need and frustration grew, I swirled my tongue around the head and gave an extra firm suck.
"Did you know that girl you were dancing with?" he whispered as his fingertips lightly caressed my back.
"Hmmph mmm," I muttered with my mouth full.
"I liked watching you dance with her. It turned me on," he said, tangling a hand deeper in my hair.
With a smile of thanks, I kept up a slow steady movement, using my hand to jack him off at the same time.
"Ever been with a woman?" he asked, pushing me back on the bed and reaching for a condom.
"Sure," I confessed as I straddled his hips. "But I prefer men."
"That’s good to know," he hissed as I eased him inside me.
"How do you want it? Slow? Fast? Hard?" I wiggled my hips experimentally and bit my lip as my oversensitive clit ground against his pubic bone.
"Fast is good," he countered with a painful grin.
I fucked him hard and fast, not at all surprised when he didn’t last very long. After all the teasing, I didn’t either, and collapsed on his chest a few hot and sweaty minutes later.
"Damn," he huffed, "that girl at the bar has no idea what she’s missing."
CHAPTER THREE
Sunday I forced myself to run Wade off. He left with a good-natured laugh and I barely made it to Baroque in time for brunch with the girls. Sunday was our weekend recap day. Who got lucky. Who hadn’t. Was it any good? And it came with a 5-Star rating system—lowest star buys. We were as bad (and as thorough) as any man, and completely unapologetic about it.
Then if we didn’t go shopping or Lanie didn’t have paperwork to catch up on, we’d spend the afternoon in her pool or at the pool at Carlotta’s condo—depending on whether we felt like being ogled or not.
Sunday was all about relaxing and making it to work on Monday with none the wiser of our weekend activities.
"So," Lanie said once we’d all been seated and served our Mimosas, "how was Wade, you hussie? Carlotta told me what you did."
I eased back in my chair and gave her a satisfied grin. "Five shiny gold stars, Miss Cradle Robber." Maybe I should feel bad talking about him—rating him—but he did get five stars! And besides, he was probably telling his roommate all about his wild weekend anyway.
Men talk. Women talk. Deal with it.
"He didn’t even leave until this morning."
"He stayed all weekend?" Carlotta whispered with a sly smile. "What have I told you about hog-tying men?"
"I think the important question is what is she gonna do tomorrow?" Lanie asked between snorts of laughter.
"Go to work just like normal and pray he doesn’t tell his crew that the Safety Supervisor screwed his brains out," I finished with a laugh of my own. I was worried, but not terribly so. Wade and I hadn’t discussed any post-sexual relationship. I figured he knew the rules—a lay was a lay was a lay (not a relationship or a commitment)—and if he knew not to tell the guys about me kissing a woman, he surely knew that applied to our weekend of sexual acrobatics.
We stopped gossiping long enough to order and waited till our server was out of earshot before continuing. Around us, Sunday diners were dressed in their Sunday best, doing their post-church socializing, and the low chatter of people filled with Go
d surrounded us.
Then there were us three heathens discussing sex, with just as much reverence, I might add.
"Lanie deserted me Friday night," Carlotta said, then paused to take a sip of her drink, "So I ended up going home alone."
"It’s not like you didn’t have any offers," she countered with a frown.
"After Friday work, I wasn’t in the mood but trust me, I made up for it Saturday night."
We were forced to wait for details until the waitress served us each a small plate of fruit.
"Rate it," Lanie ordered under her breath.
"Four stars—almost a five but—" She shook her head, "—not quite."
"Details," I demanded, leaning forward in my chair.
"Details yourself," she countered. "What made Wade a five—God he’s so hot, never mind."
"He’s got all the moves." I forked up a piece of cantaloupe, practically moaning as it melted in my mouth. "Yum. Wade was the entire package—and you?"
"I think his name was Greg—"
"You think his name was Greg," I said, only to be interrupted by Carlotta who gave me a dirty look.
"I was talking! He was a little sloppy, a little passive for my taste but well equipped."
"Who isn’t passive for your tastes," Lanie teased. She picked up a piece of strawberry and slid it between her lips and slowly bit down—slow enough to make me roll my eyes and look around. I shook my head and cut a piece of kiwi in half then forked it up, chewing as I slowly scanned the room until I found what had caught her eye.
A Suit—a tall blonde with a chiseled jaw and dimples, dressed to the nines in a navy suit with a coordinating red power tie. He sat with an older woman not three tables away.
"Quit flirting and give us the dirty skinny on your Friday conquest. Was it the gigolo, the babe in the woods, or what?"
"Three stars," she said with a sneer of disgust, "small and lacking serious moves."
"Oops," Carlotta giggled.
"Not only did he lack moves, he passed out! Thank God we were at his place, so I just got up and left him there."
"Left him where?" I asked with a laugh.
"On the floor." Lanie rolled her eyes then sat back as the waitress slid a Belgian waffle in front of her.
"God that smells good. I should have gotten one," I said regretting my own omelet, and never mind that I knew it’d be to die for. The grass was always greener on the other plate.
Carlotta, on the other hand, was too busy tittering to even thank the waitress. While we ate, poor Lanie filled us in on her horrible pick-up, making us laugh loud enough to disturb the church crowd and garner us more than a few frowns.
By the time the food was gone and the Mimosas drained from our glasses and the waitress returned with our check, the dining room was nearly empty. Except for the guy Lanie had spent the entire meal silently flirting with.
"Brunch is on you, since you had the 3-Star lay." I grinned and pushed the little tray with our check in it toward her.
"No need to remind me," she said, throwing her gold card on top of the bill and smiling as the waitress took it. "I should have gone home with Carlotta."
I shook my head at the sight of her pulling an extra piece of paper from her purse. "You’re not?" I asked, glancing at the tall Adonis who kept eyeing our table. His mother –or sugar mama—had disappeared, but probably not for long.
"I am, damnit. I have to redeem myself somehow. ‘Cause I’m not buying breakfast next week, too!"
Once she’d signed the receipt we stood and wound our way through the tables with Lanie brining up the rear.
Neither Carlotta nor I stopped. Instead we stood at the dining room entrance, watching her work her magic.
"Well?" I asked once she joined us.
"He’ll be at Jimmy Z’s on Friday night."
"Slut," I muttered with a laugh.
~*~
None of us felt like being ogled or going shopping so by unanimous decision, we headed for Lanie’s after brunch. Dressed in a skimpy and shockingly yellow bikini, I stood on the patio while Carlotta in an equally skimpy red ensemble slathered sunscreen on my back.
While I returned the favor, a topless Lanie went bouncing by—literally—with a tray of margaritas in hand, her smile as impudent as her unfettered C-cups.
"Someday when her tits are down to her bellybutton, she’ll regret that."
"In the mean time I get to enjoy the view," Carlotta giggled.
"Y’all are so bad!" I snapped the lid on the sunscreen and set it on the table before following Lanie to the pool.
"You okay, doll?" she asked, handing me a sparkly plastic glass rimmed with salt as I sat down beside her.
"Just thinking about Monday, is all."
"Oh don’t do that! You’ll ruin the whole afternoon."
"Thinking about Wade?" Carlotta leaned down and took a full glass then stepped daintily into the pool, her top left behind on the patio table. Her golden brown skin gleamed from the suntan lotion, and her nut-brown nipples puckered from the chilled water.
Lanie sighed and sipped her drink. "Fooling with the help is a bad idea, girl, and I’d hate to say I told you so but."
"You should know," Carlotta said.
"Y’all remember Jay?" Lanie chuckled and shook her head. "Jay was hot. Best damn mechanic I ever had and the best lay too—but he was an ass. Hated working under me outside of the bedroom. My point is men just don’t like taking orders from women. It’s tough but that’s why we have rules."
CHAPTER FOUR
I pulled into the construction site’s freshly cemented parking lot, barely getting my truck in park before Wade had my driver’s side door open.
"What are you doing?" I hissed as I killed the engine. God, don’t go lovesick fool on me now!
"We have a problem." The deadly serious expression on his face made me instantly queasy with fear.
"Someone saw us Saturday night?" We’d gone to a little Chinese restaurant just north of The Heights for dinner, then back to my apartment for more mattress acrobatics.
"No!" With a scowl, he yanked off his ballcap, ran a hand through seriously mussed hair and then replaced it on his head. "We have nearly twenty-five thousand feet of fucking ruined sheetrock!"
The only thing that kept me from screaming in horror was the site of Wade’s crew standing a few feet away. They shuffled from foot to foot looking as awful as I suddenly felt. I turned my head enough to take a good hard look at our strip shopping center sitting smack ass in the middle of a lake of sour mud. It nearly brought my English muffin and coffee up. The entire footprint—the building layout—was fifty thousand feet. How the hell had half of it gotten ruined?
"This isn’t happening."
"It is. And it gets worse, honey. Dolan is on his way out."
"Jerry or Junior?" I asked, grabbing my hardhat.
"Both."
"I’m dead." I killed my engine and slid out, pocketing my keys and ignoring Wade’s empathetic ‘honey’.
Jerry Dolan was Dolan Industries—the most prominent commercial builder in Houston. And his son, Junior was the Senior Project Manager. If they were on their way, our jobs were in serious jeopardy.
"We’re all dead, " Wade echoed.
My very first assignment as an Assistant Job Supervisor and nothing had gone right from day one. We were already behind schedule due to a dozen or so minor mishaps, including lost materials which weren’t my domain, but Hal Langston, the Job Supervisor’s. As Assistant Job Supervisor and Safety Supervisor, I had more than enough to keep me busy. Barring any serious budget problems, the possibility of us working around the clock to meet our deadline becoming a distinct probability.
I looked up at Wade and sighed. "Nice knowing you."
Despite his understanding chuckle, I knew he knew exactly what I was feeling. A company’s reputation could be made or broken on a job and so could a crew’s—and a supervisor’s.
As we gingerly traversed the sidewalk covered in mud and muck, I was
as aware of Wade’s hand on the small of my back as I was Hal Langston’s eyes on me from just inside the building. He was a tall, stocky man, weather-beaten from years of construction work. Another crew stood at the edge of what would someday soon be a landscaped lawn waiting for the word to start repairs on the eight by four hole located to the left of the door.
Sweat pockets were already forming under my t-shirt, and I couldn’t even shake Wade’s hand off—not with forty or so men watching. As Monday’s went, this one ranked somewhere in the seventh circle of Hell.
Hal hated me more than anyone else who worked for Dolan Industries. And for no other reason than because I was a woman. He was old school—women should be seen and not heard, I mean barefoot and pregnant. And he always smelled like he’d just swam out of the bottom of a can of beer.
"Alex." Hal wasn’t one for formalities like "How was your weekend?" or "Good morning."
Which suited me just fine.
"Hal." As I stepped inside the building, I did my best to stay upwind of him but I had a feeling that today it wouldn’t do me much good. "How bad is it?"
"Some idiot left the water on, and after Friday’s fuckup, Dolan’s gonna have someone’s ass!" His voice echoed off the concrete foundation as he spoke to be heard over the pumps currently sucking out the excess water. Someone, of course, meaning anyone but him.
As if someone had left a tap running. And then wandered off. I shook my head and bit my lip to keep from calling him the idiot.
"Did anyone call the plumbers? Do we have any idea what caused this?" I demanded, focusing on the inch of water under my feet. I turned in a slow circle surveying square feet upon square feet of newly sheetrocked walls that had sucked up water for two days, and my heart sank to my toes. A quick glance said everything from about my waist down would have to be ripped out and replaced—sheetrock, insulation and another wiring inspection, to boot.
"One of my guys found one of those oversized plumber’s wrenches near the water main."
Hal butted in before Wade could continue, "I told you that could have been left by Little when he shut the water off."
"We don’t know that for sure though." A scowling Wade shoved his hands in his pockets.
