"I will."
They hung up and Khloe hoped that she was right. Bree was a hard-ass through and through, but her mum was the steel in her backbone. Both of them would be a mess without her. Khloe loved Sinjin Butler like she did her own mother.
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Chapter Four
Reed Rothington
* * * *
Khloe Bell was nothing short of perfect. She was smart, witty and completely unintimidated by him. She was a strong-minded woman who wasn't afraid to speak her mind, but she was also adorably klutzy.
He had a thing for quirky women. Reed couldn't stand women who were highly polished all the time, or who were always in fear of saying the wrong thing. Khloe seemed content to be herself—she didn't try to change her personality or her appearance to please him.
Not to say he wasn't very interested in the physical. That woman had a body that could put a goddess to shame. She ate real food, which scored hot points in itself. He always found women's food choices unreasonably interesting.
If he took a date out to dinner, he wanted her to eat more than a salad. Of course, it wouldn't bode well for her health later in life if she ordered one of everything off the dessert tray. He was looking for that woman who walked the line between pleasure and gluttony.
Reed didn't mind if the dessert went to the hips. He liked women with curves, he just wanted to make sure he chose a mate who would have fun spending his money with him and not run through it like a hot knife through Omega-3 spread. Plus, the gluttons tended to glut on everything. Money, food and sex. He wanted a woman who was going to be faithful to him.
He knew it was more than passing odd that he thought he could determine all these things from what a woman ate. In interviews, when asked how he chose his girlfriends, he'd had to lie through his teeth. He'd known that otherwise every date after that would obsess about her food and maybe take it to unhealthy extremes. He didn't understand why anyone would do that, but he'd never had to scratch out a living or a career from nothing. Nor did he aspire to marry money.
He had lunch catered for his employees and he'd watched Khloe to see what she chose. Her choices had consisted of a spinach salad, plain. Which had made him frown at first—he'd thought she was one of the ‘salad only’ herd. Until she'd chosen a lean steak and a small portion of steamed vegetables with brown rice and a slice of cheesecake she saved and ate later in the day. Reed thought it looked much like his own plate.
As to what he'd like to see on his plate in the future—her breasts were amazing, like Kellogg's Raisin Bran. Two scoops of...
The feel of her cunt spasming around his fingers had been pure delight. He'd loved watching her pleasure play out on her face. It had been a task not to follow her up to her apartment and fuck her blue.
But he liked Khloe Bell.
Yeah, that was a surprise. He actually liked her. She was one he'd like to date. He didn't want to pay her to go away. That made him a little nervous—he'd been kicked in the dick more times that he could count when it came to women. They were all after his money and it was safer to keep things casual.
He liked Bree Butler too, but this was different. Talking to Bree was like talking to his brother, another guy. Even though he'd been between her thighs, there had been times when he'd felt the urge to peek again, just to make sure she hadn't grown a penis. And if she had, he had suspicions he'd be dismayed to see it was bigger than his. Bree was an amazing woman, the best of friends. She'd been right when she'd suggested Khloe come to work for him.
Reed didn't want to fuck this up. Of course, he might have thought about that before getting wrist-deep in her in pretty pink pussy. He sighed, then shrugged it off. He could just list that under ‘other talents’ on the boyfriend application.
If he got that far. Khloe Bell didn't seem interested in dating. Which made him wonder if he was simply being perverse and wanted her because she wasn't chasing him like a starving dog would a steak.
Truth be told, as much as casual was comfortable, Reed wanted something real with someone real. He didn't expect it to happen overnight, but he didn't want to let his guard down until he knew there was a chance she was open to what he wanted.
Reed knew he could get into her bed, but could he get into her heart?
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Five
Merry-Go-Round
* * * *
Khloe wasn't sure what she'd expected to find when she went into work the next day. She'd gone outside to hail a cab and found the car service waiting for her. That was a definite perk to riding the boss like a merry-go-round.
She felt more than just a touch of trepidation as she rode the elevator up to the office. If he was already there, what would she say to him? Hell, if he wasn't, what would she say to him when he came in? What was there to say? “Hey, thanks for the one-off, here's your coffee"? “You have a brunch at eleven, and would you like to shag me like a zoo monkey"?
Worse yet, “Do your fingers come with a saddle, because I'm going to ride them like a mechanical bull"? Oh, or she could ask him if his anaconda had reins.
She wasn't going to be able to think. He was going to fire her because she was going to answer the phone, ‘Rompin’ with Rothington'. Why did the man have to be so hot? It should be a crime. He was good looking, smart and rich. That had to be some anomaly that the universe was going to suck up in a great, gasping black hole at any minute.
Like the one between her thighs. At least, that's what it felt like to her. The damn thing wouldn't leave her alone.
Why couldn't she think about anything but sex? What was wrong with her? She'd probably been repressed for way too long and now it was like a soda can that had been shaken before popping the tab. She was going to spill out all over his slacks just like that, too.
Khloe peeked around the elevator doors as they slid open—Reed's desk was empty. Of course, that didn't mean he wasn't there yet, but it did mean she'd have a chance to settle in and practice being embarrassed.
By the time Reed came in, she'd confirmed and printed his schedule for two days, had prioritised his task list for the day, had answered emails and made coffee. She had nothing left to do but contemplate what he looked like naked.
Khloe admitted she found that to be a worthy pursuit, but she didn't know if Reed would look kindly on paying her to ogle his attributes.
"Khloe, will you cancel my appointments for today?"
Son ofa bitch! She'd just printed the—It would give her something to do besides fantasise about his hard chest and agile fingers.
The elevator doors opened again and a blonde woman with eyes so cold they could freeze a penguin's ass walked in.
Who gave that bitch a key? Khloe had to tamp down her inner mean girl to keep it from becoming outer mean girl. She knew she'd already wrinkled her nose in supreme disgust. Which was really unfair—she didn't know Icy McTart from anyone. She could be a very nice woman—though Khloe doubted it. The woman walked like she had two sticks up her ass and even her perfume smelt bitchy. Khloe wasn't sure how that was even possible, but it made her scowl.
"Reed, darling!"
Vomit, Khloe sneered to herself.
Reed turned and flashed Icy a smirk that could have been a smile. Khloe couldn't tell if he was happy to see her or not. Khloe was putting her in the ‘not’ category. Although she knew she had no reason to be jealous—Reed didn't belong to her.
Oh, but what if he did?
Wait, no. Mulligan! Khloe didn't know if she could get a Mulligan in her own head. She already knew the truth. She liked Reed Rothington. Not only did she want to play giddyup, but she liked his conversation.
"Brandy,” he said, acknowledging her.
How did Icy McTart have a name like Brandy? A brandy was warm and luscious, smooth all the way down. Most women who were named Brandy were warm, too. Khloe imagined this woman had icicle spikes that she shot out like a porcupine, only with no soft underbelly. Just more ice.
"I came to see if you'd like to go to lunch so we can talk"—Icy shot Khloe a meaningful look—"alone."
Khloe had been thinking that maybe she could find something else to do to give them some privacy, but as of now, Icy McTart was on her shit list. “Mr Rothington's schedule is full. Perhaps you'd like to make an appointment for next week,” Khloe said with a smile.
She wasn't sure what had possessed her. For all she knew, the woman had been expected. Then she'd be able to put that ‘practice embarrassment’ to good use. Or just shove her shoe in her mouth to keep from ever speaking again. She wondered if designer leather tasted better than Target leather?
"Sorry, sweetheart. My schedule is full. I'm late for a meeting now. Get together with Khloe and perhaps she'll find a place to squeeze you in."
Sweetheart? Khloe cringed and all of her assorted parts puckered at the endearment.
"I will not.” The woman drew herself up to her full height.
Khloe had thought the stick was already as far up her ass as it could go, but apparently, there was still room in her colon.
"Reed, I will not be ignored or foisted off on some cock-struck secretary.” Her sweet tone belied the venom of her words.
Cock-struck? Khloe wondered how fast she'd have to move to push the pen she was tapping into Icy's bitchy, beady little eye. The thought gave her an unreasonable feeling of glee.
"Khloe, fit her in if it suits you. If not, I'm unavailable,” Reed said as if the woman wasn't still standing there, then he went back to his desk and sat down.
Brandy made as if she were going to follow him. This was one of the times when Khloe was sure Reed wished he'd designed this office space with a door other than the elevator. Or that he'd thought to get Brandy's key.
Khloe stood. “I'm sorry, but Mr Rothington is no longer available. Also, I'll need your key."
Icy smiled at her. “Like hell will I give you my key. You're just the temporary tramp of the week. I'm going to be Mrs Rothington."
"Maybe I am the temp of the week, but that doesn't change the fact that I still need your key.” Khloe bared her teeth in what was supposed to be a professional smile.
"Come and get it,” Icy dared, but slammed out of the door.
It was on the tip of Khloe's tongue to ask Reed who she was, but she decided it was best to keep her mouth shut. It wasn't any of her business. Bree had never mentioned her. Khloe pulled up her personal email and fired off a quick note to Bree asking about Brandy.
So what if it wasn't any of her business? Curiosity killed the cat and satisfaction brought him back. She was dying to know.
"Khloe?"
"Reed, if you want that key back you're going to have to get it yourself."
"Oh, I know. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have put you in that position. She won't take no for an answer."
Khloe spun around in her chair, her legs crossed at the ankles. “Of course she doesn't. Not when she has a key to your office and you call her sweetheart. That gives a person ideas. Actions have to match your words, sweetheart."
He smirked. “You're right. Our parents are friends—we grew up together. I don't want to hurt her feelings."
"I can smell the bullshit over here, Rothington.” Khloe stood and sashayed over to his desk. Oh, she was definitely enjoying her filter-free mouth.
Reed leant back in his chair. “Oh yeah? How's that?"
She was calling him out and he liked it! Her heart thundered in her chest and she leaned over his desk, her breasts brushing against the blotter. “You don't want to piss her off. Brandy is your standby.” Khloe wet her lips.
"Standby?” he repeated, as if he didn't understand the word.
"Play coy all you like, but that's why you don't tell her to scoot and why you push her off on your hapless secretary. Worse? She puts up with it thinking you're going to marry her."
"I've never lied to Brandy.” Reed straightened in his chair and leant forward so their lips were only a breath apart.
"No, not in so many words. But it's understood and you console yourself with the fact you haven't lied to her and if you don't meet anyone, you might marry her to please your family."
Suddenly, rather than being jealous of Brandy, she felt bad for her. Khloe was angry, too—angry that Brandy allowed Reed to treat her that way.
"And all the while you slum it, fucking your secretaries.” Khloe wasn't sure what had possessed her, but it must have been the devil. Quiet and timid little Khloe Bell didn't speak that way.
"You overestimate me, Khloe.” Reed traced a finger down her arm to her wrist.
"Do I?"
"I'm a simple man.” He tugged on the first button of her borrowed silk shirt and it slipped open to reveal the valley between her breasts. “I have simple needs. Brandy doesn't meet any of them."
Khloe wanted to be horrified, she did, but instead her fingers snapped another button open to bare more of herself to his gaze. He obviously liked what he saw and Khloe liked how that made her feel. Not only in her girly bits, but in her head, too.
"And what are they, Reed? Large breasts and a smile?” Which she had to offer in spades.
He dipped his hand inside her shirt and cupped her breast, his thumb stroking lazy circles around her nipple. “What's wrong with being honest about what I like? Anyone who says the only things that are important to them are on the inside is lying."
"So personality doesn't matter to you?” She arched her back to push her breast more fully into his hand.
"I didn't say that. I said it's the whole package. Intelligence, honesty, humour and kindness wrapped in big tits and a hot pussy."
"I see,” she said, searching for another sharp reply.
"Do you? Good.” He pulled her down further and kissed her hard. He slipped his hand beneath the lace cup of her bra and rolled her already hard nipple between his fingers.
She moaned against his mouth and his tongue stroked the seam of her lips and into the hot cavern beyond. Khloe imagined him fucking her right there on the desk and her slit ached to be filled.
Khloe was about to demand he take her immediately, or whatever the verbiage was, when his phone rang like an alarm the world seemed to have whenever Khloe got too close to something she wanted. Reed broke away from her to answer it, but she'd be damned if that would happen this time. Khloe flung the phone off the desk and it clattered to the floor.
"I've cleared your schedule. You're busy."
"Yes, ma'am.” He hauled her over the desk and positioned her with her heels braced on the arms of his chair.
Oh, God! She was going to do it. Here in the boss's office. On his desk. With the—oh, my God—boss. Khloe surrendered and leant back as Reed pushed up the slick material of her pencil skirt and ran his hands over the lacy edges of her thigh-high stockings.
"You're lovely, Khloe."
Instead of drilling her hard and fast, he knelt between her legs like he was worshipping at a shrine. He dipped his head and tasted her through her innocent white panties.
The heat of his tongue scorched her through the thin material and she writhed to get closer to him. Khloe suddenly wished she could see them, her spread out wanton and needy and Reed lapping at her.
He pushed her panties out of the way and stroked his tongue over her clit. Reed's tongue flicked faster and Khloe grasped the edges of the desk as the beginnings of bliss spiralled through her.
It was a good thing she did, too, otherwise when the door to the stairs next to the elevator opened and four firemen and two security guards rushed in, she would have fallen off the desk as well as screaming at the top of her lungs.
"There's a fire in the building and—” The security guard broke off. “We tried to call."
Khloe begged the Almighty for instant death.
An aneurysm.
Stroke.
Heart failure.
Something quick—but none of these were forthcoming. The only thing that could possibly be more painful than this was the Spanish Inquisition.
&
nbsp; Or mistaking Preparation H for Vagisil.
"Yes, thank you. We'll evacuate immediately,” Reed said as if she hadn't glazed his face like a doughnut.
Khloe looked up at him and he licked his lips, with a wink. She was torn between indignation and wanting to shove his face back where it had been, fire or no.
He tugged her up off the desk and tucked her against his chest, shielding her face from prying eyes. Khloe was suddenly thankful Reed had a private entrance to the building. She didn't want to have to look these guards in the face ever again.
Reed led her out of the office and down the stairs. She kept waiting for one of the guards or firemen to make some slick remark about what they'd been doing and whether their ‘friction’ had started the fire, but none of them said anything that wasn't related to evacuating them from the building.
The perks of being Reed Rothington, she supposed.
He'd handled it with such aplomb—she wondered how many times he'd been caught in flagrante delicto?
After some radio traffic, a fireman spoke to Reed. “We made a sweep of every floor and found no evidence of a fire."
"I didn't hear an alarm. How did you know there was a fire?” Reed asked them.
"A woman called nine-one-one and reported smoke coming from the building."
Brandy. It had to have been. She looked at Reed and he answered the question in her eyes with a hard expression.
"I'm sorry you were called out here for nothing,” Reed replied.
"Better safe than sorry, Mr Rothington."
After they exited the building, Reed looked down at her. “You don't know it was her."
Khloe snorted. “Okay. Whatever you say.” She wasn't going to argue with him. Number one, it wouldn't do any good if he was convinced it wasn't her, and number two, she'd rather finish what they'd started.
It was all she could think about.
Prying her from her shell had been less like opening an oyster and more like releasing the Kraken.
"I didn't say I wouldn't talk to her."
Great. Talking to her meant being in the same room with her. Khloe sighed. “She's your problem, not mine."
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