by Harper West
And I’d do it with a smile on my fucking face.
“Jesus, sir. I want to feel you.”
My hand slid out of her hair and down her back. “How badly do you want to feel me?”
She brushed her ass against my pelvis. “So much.”
I spanked her. “How much.”
She groaned. “Enough to risk my job, Joseph. Oh, fuck.”
I rubbed the red spot I had left behind with my hand and smiled at her words. I already had her on the line. She was already in a position to tear apart her life for me. Good. That’s exactly where I wanted her.
“Mr. Ryker, there’s something I need to--.”
I quickly backed away from Becca. “Get up. Now. Flip your dress down and--.”
And when my office door whipped open with my ass still out in the air, I moved to cover Becca as best as I could as she flew up from my desk and quickly smoothed her dress back down over her most sensitive areas.
“Oh, my God!”
Everything happened so quickly that Becca must’ve lost the idea that she needed to shut the fuck up, because the second she opened her mouth I knew that we were sunk.
“Brit? Is that you?”
“Mr. Ryker!” Lexie exclaimed.
“Get out!” I roared.
I picked up a glass of water from my desk and turned around. I didn’t give a shit who saw me naked, I had a body to be proud of. But I sure as hell didn’t want to put anyone—much less Becca—in a position to be embarrassed. I whipped around quickly enough to launch the glass of water through the air before it smashed against my office door as Lexie whipped it closed.
But not before I caught that fucking bitch’s eye.
Brittney is going to pay for that.
“No, no, no, no,” Becca whispered.
I stepped away from her and started putting my pants back on. “Just stay here until I can sort things out.”
Tears rushed her cheeks as she raked her hands through her hair. “This isn’t good. I shouldn’t—I mean, we—it just—uh…”
I rolled my eyes as I pulled my pants up. “You really need to learn how to operate under pressure, you know that?”
She cupped her hands over her face. “Oh, my God.”
“Didn’t you lock the door? Did I not hear that right?”
She started breathing raggedly as her face flushed. “I did. I-I-I—I locked it. How did she--?”
“Did you pull the door closed?”
She blinked. “What!?”
I closed the distance between our bodies and gripped her chin. “Did you pull the door closed, Rebecca?”
I felt her weaken against me just a tad. “No, I just—let it close.”
I shook my head. “Shit.”
“Wait a second, what does that mean? Did—did I not even get the door closed?”
I walked into the middle of my office. “Isn’t that pretty obvious by now?”
“I’m so sorry. Joseph, I--.”
I held up my hand. “Mr. Ryker, to you.”
Her face fell. “Please, don’t go back. I like it when you call me Rebecca.”
“But I don’t like it when you call me Joseph.”
I watched a defeated look spread over her face. “Well, if it’s all the same to you, I’m going to go home anyway.”
I nodded. “I expect you to. You have some shopping to do.”
She blinked. “Wait, you were serious about that?”
I held my arms out. “Do I look like I’m joking, Rebecca?”
As we stood there staring at one another, I ran down all the implications of Brittney, of all people, catching us. Had Rebecca not opened her fucking mouth, she probably wouldn’t have even known that it had been her to begin with. Then, I could’ve brushed it off as a random encounter in my office and gotten a slap on the wrist from the board and from Human Resources. But now that the bitch who was out to get Becca knew it was her, we had a serious problem.
Because if she reported the incident and the higher-ups had to investigate, I knew they’d throw me under the bus for being the owner and operator of the company.
And I’d lose everything because of it.
“Mr. Ryker?” Becca asked softly.
I cleared my throat. “What?”
She pointed to the door. “If it’s all the same, I think I’m going to leave now.”
My gaze found hers. “I’ll go outside and take Lexie on an errand. You can take the back elevator.”
She furrowed her brow. “There’s a back elevator?”
I pulled out my wallet and handed her my keycard. “It only uses this in operation. Swipe it against the black keypad and the doors will open, then it’ll take you to any level you want to go to.”
She took it from me. “But there’s a private elevator in this building?”
I grinned. “Of course. Did you really think I’d want to take the regular elevator and listen to all of the stupid gossip coming out of all of my departments?”
She giggled. “Probably not.”
I folded up my wallet and slid it back into my pocket. “No stops anywhere. You get to your car, you leave, and you go shopping. I’ll deal with what just happened.”
“I know she’s going to come by my place during lunch when I don’t come into my office. Not working today might only make me look more guilty.”
I shrugged. “She already knows it was you. You let me handle her. You simply do as I’ve told you. Got it?”
She fingered the keycard as she reached for her purse. “Got it.”
“Good. Now, count to twenty in your head, then slip out and take a left. Go to the end of the hallway, take a right, and then you’ll be face to face with the elevator at the end of that hallway. Repeat it back to me.”
She pointed as she talked. “Out the door, take a left, down the hallway, take a right, all the way down is the elevator.”
“Good girl. Twenty seconds, all right?”
And as I slipped out of my office, Lexie came rushing up to me. “Sir, I am so sorry. She said it was an emergency and she wouldn’t stop even though I asked.”
I leveled my eyes with hers. “What you witnessed was not only private, but consensual. Understood?”
She nodded quickly. “I wouldn’t think anything else of it. It’s not like this is the first time you’ve been caught with a woman in your office.”
My eyes narrowed. “What did Brit want?”
She shrugged. “She was holding a file folder, but I couldn’t get her to leave it with me. I’m not sure what was so important.”
And that’s when my mind started churning. “Whatever you’re working on, I want you to pivot and work on this. Call every department head and ask them if they sent that woman with any important information directly to my office.”
“Of course, sir. But why not just ask her?”
I turned Lexie away from my office door as Becca slipped out. “Because I have a feeling that she didn’t come with sensitive information at all. I think she came for another purpose.”
Becca froze at my words and I glared at her over Lexie’s shoulder, so she’d get around the corner of the damn hallway.
“What do you think she was trying to do?” Lexie asked.
And after Becca disappeared from view, I cleared my throat. “I don’t know, but my gut is telling me something’s wrong.”
“Then, consider it the only thing I’ll focus on until I’ve hunted everyone down.”
I sighed. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”
“You—you what?”
I rolled my eyes. “I won’t say it again. Now, get to it.”
And as I charged into my office, slamming the door behind me, I made a mental note to get another fucking door installed.
Because this wouldn’t be the last time I’d want Becca bent over my desk behind closed doors.
Coming Next Book Two
Bedroom Bully
Savage Revenge Book 2
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1
Ash
"Hey, Ash! Ash!"
I froze with one foot on the step, looking towards the door of my apartment. I was so close that I could run for it and make it before the landlord got there, but then I'd just have to deal with him pounding on the door, demanding to talk to me.
I'd been successfully avoiding him for the last three or four days but coming home in the middle of the afternoon had been my downfall, clearly. I sighed and stepped down, waiting for him to catch up to me.
"What's up, Evan?" I asked, even though I knew full well.
He gave me the best version of his 'sympathetic look'. Everyone had one. It was a look that said 'hey, I understand you're going through something right now, but I'm really going to need my money'.
"Ash, it's Friday," he said. "You said you'd have the rent today."
I sighed. "Yeah, I know."
The look didn't let up. "Listen, I know you've got a lot going on with school and work and everything, but I can't let people live here for free. You're a good tenant, and I never get any complaints about you. You're not growing weed in your closet like the guy in 207, but I need the rent. This is the third time you've been late."
"I know," I said again. "I just need a couple more days, Evan, I promise. I'll get my check from my other job, and I'll hand it right to you, I swear."
The thing was, he'd definitely heard me say that before. He sighed and rubbed a hand through his greying hair. "Okay, Ash. I'll give you until the end of next week to get it to me, but you have to have it on time next month, or...I'm going to have to evict you. This is a popular spot for people your age, and I can rent your apartment out to someone who can afford it pretty easily, so."
"I can afford it!" I insisted.
He looked skeptical. "Okay. I'm not trying to insinuate anything. I'm just looking at your track record. So just. Get me the money and be on time next month. Can you do that?"
I forced a smile and gave him a salute. With the wrong hand. "Sure can. You don't even need to worry about it. I can handle it." I started walking up the stairs backwards, almost desperate to get to my apartment door.
"Okay," he said again. "I'm expecting a check on the first. Not an IOU or a promise of a check. An actual, real life, able to be cashed check."
It was a huge effort not to tell him to go fuck himself, but he did have a point. "Yep. You'll get it. See you, Evan."
I jammed the key in the lock and let myself in, closing the door behind me with a grateful sigh.
Evan was being beyond nice by giving me more time, and most other landlords would have already had my ass on the street by the time I'd been late twice. He was giving me extra time, but the thing was, I didn't know if I'd have the money in a week. And I definitely couldn't promise I'd be able to pay on the first.
Everything that could go wrong was going wrong.
My first job, working as a receptionist at the local art gallery, had cut back my hours, and even though I made up for it by taking more hours at the coffee shop, it was just not enough to cover everything.
I was constantly rearranging payment dates, and stalking my bank account to see when my direct deposits would come in. Both of my credit cards were maxed out from buying groceries and paying for textbooks, and even the stash of money my parents had sent me 'for emergencies' was dangerously close to being gone.
I didn't know what I was going to do.
If I lost this apartment, I had nowhere else to go except back home to my parents, and they lived about two thousand miles away. That meant I'd have to drop out of my graduate program at the university, and go back home with my tail between my legs in shame.
I'd talked so much shit about how I was moving to the big city to follow my passions and I didn't need a job at my dad's store. I could do things on my own.
And now I was at rock bottom with no idea how to climb back up.
I groaned and slid down to sit on the floor, back pressed against the door. There was no use panicking and getting depressed about it now. I had to come up with a plan. Maybe if I moved some stuff around and was late on a few other things I could get the rent covered.
I could call in a favor or two, maybe. I'd covered some shifts for coworkers for the extra money, maybe they'd let me borrow...
Ugh, I hated the idea of that. From a young age my parents had drilled it into my head that borrowing money was a bad thing to do. It made things awkward between friends and put a weird dynamic in place.
My dad didn't even believe in credit cards. "If you can't afford it, don't buy it," he always said. Of course, he was a weirdo who still tried to pay for everything with cash in the year 2019, but every time I thought about getting a loan or asking for money, the words came back to haunt me.
So I wouldn't be going down that road.
Only problem was there weren't a lot of other roads to go down. I had no idea what to do about the situation.
Pulling out my phone to check my bank account sure as hell didn't help. Apparently my phone bill had gone through, even though I was pretty sure I'd taken it off automatic payments. I'd almost had enough to cover it, but the forty-three cents that I'd been short had overdrafted my account. So, unless I could get some money in there, I'd be hit with a charming fee.
Why me? Why did terrible things always happen to me? Between two jobs and school, I was busting my ass. If I had the time for a third job, I'd take it, but I was already stretched too thin and not sleeping enough.
Between the workload and the stress, I was lucky to get four hours of sleep a night. Less if I had an opening shift at the coffee shop.
Every area of my life was suffering, and I had no idea how to fix it.
I couldn't even afford to order takeout and drown my sorrows in cheap Chinese food.
Which meant it was going to be another night on beans and rice with some freezer burned ground beef thrown in there for variety. Joy and wonder.
Sitting on the floor pouting about it wasn’t going to get me anywhere, so I made myself get up and went to sit on the couch, booting up my laptop. Maybe I could find a cheaper apartment and that would take some of the pressure off.
Maybe I could find a higher paying job and quit one of my other two.
Maybe money would rain down from the sky, and I could run around with a big bag scooping it up.
It was as likely to happen as finding a cheaper place in the city. Evan was already renting his units for way lower than the standard, appealing to college kids and grad students. Which was funny considering how much he complained about the dumb shit kids did in his building.
I was half tempted to go down to 207 and see if he had any weed left, just to mellow me out.
The next morning, I was at work at the coffee shop, trying to get through the day without having a nervous breakdown. There was just so much on my mind, and I had no idea what to do about any of it.
I’d been up all night for the most part, tossing and turning, trying to come up with some solution to my money issues that didn’t involve calling my parents for help or digging myself into more debt.
At one point I’d even seriously been considering trying to get into the stripping business. There was a girl I went to high school with who’d gone down that path, and judging from her social media posts, it had worked out pretty well for her. But I knew I wasn’t brave or att
ractive enough to pull that off.
Just like I knew working part time for eight bucks at hour at the coffee shop wasn’t going to get me where I needed to be, either.
The Jumping Bean was one of those trendy coffee shops that catered to a little bit of everyone. College students from the local university, busy moms on their way to dance recitals and soccer games, exhausted third shift workers just trying to make it through the day, and even the occasional high-powered businessperson or lawyer who worked in the city and wanted to support local businesses.
We saw them all and served them their piping hot life blood with a smile.
There was always a pretty long lull after lunch on weekdays, and we took that time to clean up and gossip while there were no customers clamoring for our attention.
Laura, the other barista on shift, leaned against the counter, one hand on her growing baby bump. She had that whole pregnant lady glow thing going on, but Laura always seemed to glow whenever she was on shift with me. She was one of those people who didn't seem capable of being in a bad mood. I'd literally seen her get scalded by hot coffee and laugh it off.
"How are you, Ash?" she asked, and I sighed while I cleaned out the blender. She even sounded like she genuinely wanted to know.
"I mean, do you want the socially acceptable answer or the truth?" I asked.
"Oh, dear. That doesn't sound good. I'll take the truth if you want to share it with me."
I sighed and swirled water around in the blender carafe angrily. Laura was younger than me. She was married and pregnant, and when she got too big to work, she was going to quit this job. I had no idea how she was going to pay for baby stuff and her bills and everything while she wasn't working, but she didn't seem worried about it. Maybe her husband was pulling in enough money to cover everything. Maybe they had a real good savings account. Either way, I'd never seen her stressing about what she was going to do.
