Life’s funny sometimes.
Did you enjoy this story? Check out the first TWO chapters of Dangerous Vice, also by Scarlett Chase. Warning: It’s extremely steamy.
I was nervous. No, that's an understatement. I was practically shaking with a mixture of excitement and anticipation. I knew that I wanted to do it, but I had never done anything even remotely close to this before. Instead, I had always been the perfect, faithful wife, but there was just something about Chris. Something that I wanted badly. Something that my husband hasn't been able to give me.
I had told my husband that I would be working late that day, when in reality I was headed to the hotel room two towns over that Chris had reserved for us. I took a long circuitous route, frequently looking behind me to make sure I wasn't being followed. I felt like the hero of some bad, dime-store detective novel when I made a U-turn and watched to see if anyone else did the same; no one did. I was being paranoid, I knew that. But, like I said, I had never done this before.
Finally, I reached the room. I checked my phone one last time. His texted instructions were very clear: 'Room 304, 9AM. DO NOT be late.' I smoothed my hair took a deep breath, then checked my watch: 9:04. I felt my stomach summersault just a little bit- my paranoia made me late. Just a little bit, but late all the same. And I knew Chris well (although not as well as I planned to today!); I knew his interests, so I knew that I would be punished. And I couldn't wait.
As I stood in front of the dark green door, I thought about how I came to be there. About how my life changed forever.
…
It was a Wednesday morning when I first met Chris. I remember that clearly because it was the day I lost my job. It wasn’t even a particularly good job, but that didn’t make it any less upsetting. I supposed I should have been happy to be done with that place, but there were the practical matters of bills to pay and a cupboard to fill. And with my husband out of work, it pretty much all fell on me.
But by the end of that particular workday, there was one boss who had finally heard why he couldn't keep an assistant for more than a few weeks, and there was me- sitting alone at a bar in the early afternoon.
Well, I guess I wasn't exactly alone. The other customers- early afternoon regulars, I assume, by the way they talked to each other- were sad, tired caricatures of themselves.
There was the overweight cartoon that would stare at his beer for long minutes before suddenly lifting the glass to his mouth and emptying it without a word. The suspiciously young bartender would refill his glass and the cycle would continue. I suspected that it was endless, like some sort of perpetual cycle.
A woman in the corner sang along with whatever was playing on the ancient radio behind the bar. I had no idea if she was even singing the right song, but she somehow found the rhythm through the static and overlapping signals. I was envious of her ability to find something beautiful in an ugly place, even if I couldn't hear what she heard.
There were others. Mostly, they were just silhouettes in the shadows of the dim bar. Every once in a while, one of them would come up to the front for another bottle or glass. Some of those would slur out a lame pickup line, but it didn’t take them very long to see that I wasn’t interested.
No, I had much more important things to do: to drink until I couldn’t feel anything at all.
“Excuse me.” A voice from behind me. Not slurred like the others before, but still unwelcome. I sighed and turned around, and then immediately lost myself in the deep blue eyes that I saw first. They were like arctic pools, and in them were secrets that I very much wanted to know. They were set in a face that was simultaneously commanding and kind, which was what the rest of his body conveyed.
I opened my mouth to speak. Instead, I threw up on his shoes.
I looked at him, horrified by what I had done. Our eyes met. I wanted to die. But then he did something that I didn’t expect. He laughed. Not at me, but rather at the absurdity of the situation. Relieved, I allowed myself to laugh with him.
Once his shoes were cleaned in the sink, he took me home. I was in no shape to drive, just like I was in no shape to stay at the bar. He had intended to drop me off, making sure I was safe and sound, but as I sobered up I found that we actually had a lot in common. I was suddenly, and a little bit shamefully, glad that my husband was out of town with his brother. That was a welcome change, since up until that moment I was mad that he disappeared again to party with his brother and whoever else they picked up along the way. I told him that it bothered me- that I at least wanted to know if he was going to take off for a few days for whatever reason- but he didn’t seem to care. And that was only the start of-
“Mind if I have one?” Chris asked, holding up a can of coke from the fridge. I hadn’t even noticed that he had gone into the kitchen.
I blinked twice, freed from my unpleasant thoughts. “Sure. So what were you doing at a bar at noon?” I asked, gently teasing him. He was easy to talk to, and I barely noticed that our conversation had been getting more and more personal as it went on. Just like I barely noticed that I was leaning in closer to him as we talked.
“I was looking for directions to the shoe store.” He was so deadpan that I didn’t realize that he was joking until I saw the corner of his lips curl upwards in a barely-concealed smile. I laughed. So did he. It felt good to laugh. I hardly noticed that he had ignored the question. “What about you?”
I could feel the smile disappear from my face. From the look in his eyes, I knew that he noticed too. “I lost my job today,” I explained. It was nice to have forgotten about it for a little while at least.
Chris looked genuinely sad. I couldn’t tell if it was from my revelation or if it was a reflection of my own reaction.
“What happened?” he asked softly.
I told him everything. I told him about the crappy job that I hated but had needed. I told him about my boss and the horrible things that he had said or done to me and others. I told him about how I knew that I needed to swallow my pride and beg for my job back, even though the idea was killing me. After all, the electric company doesn’t care about my scruples.
But Chris only laughed. I glared at him, but he didn’t even seem to notice.
“What’s so damn funny?” I demanded.
“Do you believe in fate?”
“I guess…” I replied. I was guarded- still slightly put off by his reaction.
“It just so happens that I own a small company. And it just so happens that I need an assistant.”
A brief flare of hope. Then embarrassment. “You’re fucking with me.” I was trying to sound resolute, but I heard only sadness and resignation in my voice. I looked away- I didn’t want him to see me cry when he confessed to the prank.
“Hand to God,” he swore. “How much did you make at your old job?”
I searched his eyes. Maybe he was telling the truth after all. I thought about his question. I knew it was one that I wasn’t supposed to answer in a job interview. But then again, I wasn’t really sure if that’s what this was. So I told him. The answer was barely enough to make ends meet.
“I’ll double it if you start tomorrow.”
I felt my jaw drop. “Are you serious?”
“When it comes to money, I’m always serious. Show up tomorrow, eight sharp. The receptionist will be expecting you.” He held a small, black plastic card. When I grabbed it, my fingertips lightly brushed against his. I felt the touch from my finger all the way to the pit of my stomach. It was electric.
When he left, I looked at the card. ‘United Technologies,’ it said in big bold letters. Underneath was his name: Christopher Vice. And underneath that was his contact information, but no title. I was intrigued, but I knew that I wouldn’t know anything more until tomorrow. My internet had already been shut off for non-payment and I didn’t have time to get to the library before then- I guess it would be a surprise.
The next day I arrived a little bit early. Chris seemed very serious when he told me what time to
be there, and I wasn’t about to test his resolve.
It seemed that he and I had very different definitions of ‘small business’. The building was sleek, modern and massive, with carefully-maintained landscaping and a constant stream of neatly-trimmed business men and women entering or leaving. Butterflies dove and danced in my stomach, but I walked inside hoping that I looked like I belonged there, even though I didn’t feel that way.
The receptionist seemed warm and friendly, which helped to dull the edge of my nerves a little bit. “Can I help you?” she smiled as I approached her circular desk.
“Hi… I’m Jaime… I…” It occurred to me that I didn’t really know what to say. Thankfully, the woman didn’t wait for me to awkwardly figure it out.
“Oh, yes! Hello, Jamie!” she said, as though she were genuinely happy to see me. The guard that she waved over, however, seemed like he couldn’t possibly care less. “Eddie, this is Jamie. She’s Mr. Vice’s new assistant. Will you show her to her desk?”
Eddie only grunted in response. He didn’t seem too eager, but he did it all the same.
“Don’t worry about him,” the woman said with an eye roll. “He’s actually just a big ‘ol teddy bear, once you get to know him. Aren’t you, Eddie?”
He grunted again, and he did a pretty good job of hiding his smile. The woman answered the ringing phone before I even realized it had rung, and Eddie walked away. It took me a moment to remember that I was supposed to follow him.
“So how long have you worked for Chris?” I asked, making conversation as we boarded the elevator and started our ascent.
“Mr. Vice,” he corrected.
“Right. Mr. Vice,” I agreed.
“Two years,” he answered. I thought there would surely be more, but he seemed content to stare at the doors.
“Do you like it?”
“Sure.”
“Is he nice?”
“Depends.”
“On?” I prodded. He really wasn’t much of a conversationalist.
“On you.”
I thought about his answer, and I was about to try again when the doors opened. I found myself in a large room, furnished with rich, deep wood that seemed nearly archaic against the technological marvels that were displayed along the wall. Fortunately, the computer at my desk was much more familiar to me.
Chris was, as I expected, right on time. I was relieved that he still preferred to be called ‘Chris’- at least in the many private hours that we spent together. Over the days that followed, I saw that he was very much the captain of his ship. Never before had I seen anyone so passionate and excited about what they were doing. That also meant that he was very demanding, expecting nothing less than perfection from those who worked for him, which now included me. That’s why I was so mortified when my phone rang while I was catching notes from his latest brainstorm.
“What’s that?” he blinked. He had been torn out of his flow, and I regretted the distraction that I had inadvertently caused. I knew that he wasn’t being coy- he legitimately operated on a very different level when he was in the zone.
“Sorry,” I mumbled, silencing the call. “My old boss,” I explained. I was confused as to why he would possibly be calling me, but I wasn’t going to spend too much time worrying about it. Even though I didn’t work for him any longer, I still felt a wave of apprehension when I saw that it was him. I started to put the phone away, but he stopped me with a gesture and a grin.
“May I?” he asked. I knew that look. Whatever he had planned, I knew I wanted to be a part of it.
“Sure,” I replied, handing him the phone.
He swiped to answer and put it on speaker before he spoke. “Hello?” He held his finger to his lips; I would listen only. That was kind of a relief.
“Where’s Jaime?” he demanded after a brief moment of silence. He obviously hadn’t changed. For one thing, he still sucked at phone etiquette.
“Who’s calling, please?” Chris replied. His voice was dripping with faux forced professionalism, like a telemarketer right before the pitch.
“Chad. Her boss. Er, her old boss. Whatever, where’s Jaime?”
“I’m sorry, she’s unavailable. May I help you?” Chris was drawing out the conversation, bating Chad.
“And who the hell are you?” Chad demanded.
“This is Eric, Ms. West’s assistant. I’m afraid she’s tied up with the CEO for the afternoon.” Chris winked as he lied to my former boss. I could feel Chad fuming on the other end of the phone. There was a long pause. Chris, as Eric, merely waited. He knew that Chad would break first.
“Her assistant? How the hell did she get an assistant? Never mind. Tell her she needs to come back. I’ll let her have her old job back. Tell her she fucked things up when she left. We don’t know what the hell’s going on. We’re going to have to sell the place, and it’ll be all that bitch’s fault, you tell her that.”
I gasped. The smile disappeared from Chris’s face. Something flashed in his eyes- something that I had never seen before in them.
“I see... And which company shall I refer to? There’s so many calling for her I’m afraid.”
“Arclight Logistics,” Chad said finally. He was obviously unhappy with my reported success.
“Okay, thank you.” Chris ended the call while Chad was still huffing.
“Chris… I’m so sorry. I-”
“Don’t be. Do you want to go back and work for him?”
“Hell no!” I replied, more enthusiastically than I had meant to. The question seemed ridiculous, but I knew that Chris wasn’t the type to assume.
“I didn’t think so.” He returned my phone, then hit the speaker button on his own. Four more presses later and it was ringing.
“Business development,” the man on the other end of the line answered.
“Steve, it’s Chris.”
“Yes, Sir?”
“Arclight Logistics. You know anything about it?”
“Local company. Too small to be on our radar. What’s up?”
“Buy it. I don’t care how much it costs, I don’t care about their financials. Just buy it.”
“You got it,” Steve replied.
“And when you do, keep everyone. Everyone but some mid-level supervisor named Chad.”
I heard Steve chuckle over the speaker. “He’s as good as gone, no problem.”
I realized then just how powerful Chris actually was. How he could get whatever he wanted.
I wondered what else he wanted.
…
I shook my head to clear it. I couldn’t be distracted by memories now- I had something far more important to be doing. I raised my hand to knock, but the door opened before I could make contact with it. And I was left looking straight into Chris' eyes. They were stormy and deep, and I melted just a little. Everything that I thought I would say or do in this moment was gone completely; my knees buckled and I could only smile at him.
It took me a moment to realize that he was completely nude, and that his cock was very hard. He stood in the open doorway without any embarrassment or shame. Of course, I noted wryly, he really didn't have anything to be ashamed of. I could tell that I was in for a good day.
"You're late," he said simply, before turning and walking into the room. His ass was firm and muscular, another surprise that he had been hiding in the tailored suit that he normally wore.
"I'm sorry," I said. I took one last look into the hallway before I joined him in the room, shutting the door behind me. The sound of the door closing made my heart skip a beat. "I just wanted to make sure I wasn't being followed."
He ignored what I said, as though he hadn't heard a word. The room had two beds, and he had carefully laid out his toys and tools. My mind reeled at what I was seeing. Each item was placed carefully and precisely, like a surgeon’s instruments. I could identify some of them; there was a leather-wrapped riding crop with a thin, red tip; there were various lengths of rope and leather strips; there were handcuffs; a bowl
of ice sat nearby; there were assorted plugs and vibrators ranging from very small or obscenely large.
But there were others that I couldn’t so easily identify. There was a spiked wheel attached to a long, silver handle; there was a silver chain connecting three small clamps; there was an electronic device with a small ball at the end. Out of both those that I recognized and those that I didn’t, I had never used any of the items that I saw on the bed. They excited me as much as they scared me.
“You put a lot of thought into this, didn’t you?” I laughed nervously.
There was utter seriousness in Chris’ reply. “Yes,” he said. “You don’t deserve anything less.”
I swooned just a little bit, smiling at my feet. His thoughtful reply seemed oddly juxtaposed against the raw sexuality that he exuded, and his consideration seemed out of place with the crops, whips and other toys on the bed. I knew that he was going to hurt me. I wanted him to hurt me.
Her Unchained Heart (Adult Contemporary Romance) Page 4
