One Hot Winter

by Weston Parker

  “Three things,” I started. “I expect to review the copy on a daily basis to make sure it’s going in the right direction,” I held up one finger.

  “Fine.”

  I held up a second finger. “I expect my input and any changes I advise to be taken seriously.”

  She scoffed but nodded, encouraging me to continue.

  With a third finger up. “I do not tolerate missed deadlines. If the work is not completed up to my high standard by the deadline, you will never work for this company again.”

  The expression on her face would have terrified a lesser man.

  “Anything else?” she asked in a tone that screamed irritation.

  “That's all for now.”

  I watched her shoulders go back and her back straighten. “I will do this particular job your way,” she sneered, “but please do keep in mind, you are driving this train. If it derails and things don't come out like they should, it's on you.”

  I chuckled. “That's a given. That's why I'm the boss. I’m the one who calls the shots. Anything that comes out of this department, I take responsibility for, which is why I want things done my way.”

  There was an evil smile on her face that did scare me. Just a little.

  “Well, I know I've never had trouble with my work in the past. I. Am. That. Good. I always say if it isn't broke, don't fix it.” She stood, smoothed her black skirt down and spun on her heel, heading for the door.

  “Oh, Arianna.”

  She spun around. “Ms. Clark, please.”

  I nodded. “Ms. Clark, I want what you have done so far today on my desk by the end of the day.”

  I watched as her mouth opened and then closed again. Her gaze was defiant, but she didn't say what was on her mind. She walked out the door, shutting it a little harder than necessary behind her.

  I exhaled the breath I had been holding in. The woman had caught me off guard. She was gorgeous. Why the hell was she working as a freelancer? The woman was going to be difficult to work with. I could see that already. She was clearly set in her ways and maybe a little used to getting what she wanted. I'm sure most people would have a hard time telling her no, but I wouldn't. I was all business. I would not let a person's looks interfere with my evaluation of their job performance. I was here to be the best, and I only employed the best. It didn't matter if their faces were on billboards. This was a job, and I expected it to get done.

  The woman got under my skin. Her attitude drove me nuts. I had worked with people like her in the past, and it never ended well. As much as she pissed me off, she turned me on. How was that even possible?

  I wanted to wring her neck and kiss her neck at the same damn time. Thank God, she was only a temp. I couldn't handle working with her day in and day out. She made my blood boil for more than the obvious irritation reasons.

  Chapter 3

  Arianna

  The day couldn't get over fast enough. I was already regretting my decision to work here. The extra money would be nice, but I could have made it without it. I should have stayed home. Now, I was stuck working for one of the biggest dicks in the world. Quitting wasn't an option. I wouldn’t let him win.

  “How's it going?” Donna said, interrupting my quiet tantrum.

  Ever since meeting Carter Frasier, I had been stewing. I needed a good stiff drink to wash away the frustration that man caused. He was a world-class jerk who had a very inflated opinion of himself, and just because he was one of the sexiest men I had ever had the pleasure of laying my eyes on, it didn't mean I had to like him. Not one bit.

  His dark brown hair and deep blue eyes were nice to look at, but the moment he opened that mouth rimmed by a dark, five o’clock shadow, I wanted to claw those pretty eyes out. Yes, he was tall, dark, and devastating, but he was not a nice man.

  My work was superior. I knew that. For him to insinuate otherwise was insulting.

  I groaned. “Fine, but you could have warned me about your new boss. What the hell is his problem?”

  She chuckled. “He does have a way of rubbing people the wrong way.”

  “The wrong way?” I practically screamed. “That man wouldn't know the right way with the help of a giant, flashing arrow.”

  She laughed again. “He's not so bad once you get to know him. He is a little strict, but he has made a difference. Things weren't going so well in our department. I was worried all of us would lose our jobs if things didn't start looking up. He came in, kicked some ass, and we are in the running for the best department in the company.”

  I rolled my eyes. “That may be, but please, don't call me to work again. I'll finish this job, but I can't work for that man. I love working with the rest of you but not him. I cannot work with a man like that.”

  “Oh, now. Give him a chance,” she said with a sly smile. “You may find he grows on you.”

  I scoffed. “Grow on me like a fungus.”

  She laughed and slapped her thigh. “Oh, hon. He really isn't so bad. When he starts to get on your nerves, remember how handsome he is.”

  “I would need copious amounts of alcohol to dull that awfulness. He is a really horrible, arrogant man. I don't know how all of you do it, but I know I’ll be working my butt off to get this job done, so I don't have to see him ever again,” I said the words, crossing my arms to really drive home my point.

  She winked. “We'll see. I think you two are a lot alike. Maybe that's why he gets on your nerves. He is a stickler for perfection, and we know you are as well.”

  “I doubt that. I'm done for the day. I need to deliver this to his highness before I go,” I said, sending an email copy of what I had put together thus far. I wasn't going to deliver him a hard copy. The fact I had to send him anything irritated me. It wasn't the way I worked. I had a system, and he was screwing it up.

  “Have a good night, and I'll see you tomorrow I hope?” she asked, obviously concerned her boss had driven me to quit.

  I smiled. “I don't quit, and I don't give up that easy. I'll see you tomorrow, Donna.”

  She nodded and left my cubicle. I quickly packed up, not wanting to stick around and see if Carter Frasier had something to say about my work. He only said he wanted to see it. He said nothing about me sticking around and hearing that opinion.

  I took the bus home. It was cold and snowing, and although the sidewalks were clear, I didn't want to walk in the dark. Chicago streets at night weren't safe for a woman alone. Once inside the safety of my apartment, I kicked off my heels and headed for the kitchen. I deserved a glass of wine. Hell, I deserved the whole damn bottle.

  My phone rang, and I considered ignoring it but figured it could be someone important.

  “Hey!” my friend Jody Summers yelled a little too loud.

  “Hey, yourself.”

  “So, how was it?” she asked, and I didn't need to bother asking what she was referring to.

  “Don't ask,” I groaned.

  “Oh no, that bad. How many glasses of wine have you had?”

  “I just walked in the door, but I am getting ready to pour one right now.” I laughed. She knew me too well.

  “Tell me. What happened?”

  I filled my glass, walked to my couch, and flopped down. “They have a new manager in the department. He’s a royal jerk. Like, the biggest, most arrogant man you have ever met in your life multiplied by a hundred.”

  She laughed before getting very serious. “Tell me where he is. I will let him know what's up.”

  That made me laugh. Jody was born in the wrong decade. She should have been a teen in the sixties or seventies. She was all love, peace, and joy. She looked a lot like a woodland nymph with her flowing blond hair, aversion to makeup, and her tiny stature. I loved her dearly. I fell in love with her that first day at college when she introduced herself wearing a pretty yellow sundress with flip-flops in the Chicago fall.

  “He is bossy, and I think he insulted my work. He's never seen my work!” I squealed.

  “If he had, he never woul
d have been so mean to you. Maybe he was having an off day,” she suggested.

  “I doubt it. I think that’s his normal personality. All I know is I cannot wait to get done with this job, and I will never take a job with his company again. No way,” I reiterated.

  She was silent for a moment. “So, is he hot?”

  “What?” I asked, nearly choking on the wine I had gulped into my mouth.

  “Well, you are pretty upset with him. You never let anyone get under your skin. I'm guessing he's hot, and you're attracted to him, and that's what got you all fired up.”

  “Jody,” I warned.

  “Well?”

  “Yes.”

  “Ha! I knew it. I knew that's what was really bothering you,” she said, giggling.

  “Yeah, yeah, he's attractive, but that doesn't give him an excuse to be a jerk,” I argued.

  I heard a doorbell on her end. “Oh, I gotta go. Relax, drink a couple glasses of wine, and tomorrow will be better.”

  “Thanks. I'll do that. Bye.”

  Once I hung up the phone, I leaned back, sipping the last of the wine in my glass. Carter was a very attractive man. There was something about him that sent my heart racing in a good and bad way. He made me crazy. I had only had one conversation with the man, but I knew I didn't like him. I didn't like the way he looked at me or the way he talked as if he was far superior to me.

  I needed more wine if I wanted to analyze why the man had such a dramatic effect on me. By the time I was ready for bed, I had a nice buzz going. I still didn't know why I had such a strong reaction to Carter, but at least I didn't care as much.

  I stripped and crawled into bed. The moment my head hit the pillow, visions of Carter appeared in my mind. I rolled over, hoping that would somehow erase him from my mind. It didn't. Instead, I drifted off to sleep thinking about the man.

  When I woke up, I was panting, and my body was tingling. I reached an arm out, thankful I was in bed alone. I’d had a very vivid dream about sex with Carter. It had been so real. I could still feel his hands roaming over my body, his very large dick pushing into me, bringing me to the brink of a very powerful orgasm before I woke up.

  I rolled over to look at the clock. It was only three. I knew the moment I closed my eyes, I would see and feel him over me, his mouth running over my breasts as he slowly slid into me. Everything felt very real. I imagined I could feel the stubble on his face rubbing against my jaw. I put a hand up to my cheek.

  I blinked a few times, and my arousal evaporated, replaced with anger. How dare the man come into my dreams? I had to work with him, but I didn't have to let him into my private thoughts. No way. It frustrated me. The man had me quivering with need. It wasn't like he had been kind or even flirted with me. He had been aloof and obstinate, and I practically melted at his feet.

  Now, I had to go back to that place and face him after I had a very wild and vivid wet dream about him. That was going to make everything even worse. I groaned and buried my face into my pillow, banishing him from my thoughts.

  Chapter 4

  Carter

  A prickly cactus. That's what Arianna reminded me of. Or a really cute kitten with razor-sharp claws. Her looks belied her personality. She wasn't an empty-headed bubblehead. She was a smart, tenacious woman who clearly didn’t like to take any bullshit. It certainly explained why she was a freelancer. Nobody could tolerate her on a permanent basis. She would probably be fired from any job she got because of her snarky attitude.

  That attitude was messing with my head. I wanted to scream and rage at her about as much as I wanted to slam her into a wall and bury myself in her. It was a very strange contradiction that was making me a little crazy. I felt like she had raked her sharp claws over my skin, and I was left raw. I didn't know whether to hate her or love her.

  When she breezed into the office, I had been waiting like a tiger waits for his prey.

  “Ms. Clark,” I called out as she walked by my open office door.

  I watched her bristle. She hated me as much as I hated her. Good.

  “Yes?” She turned to look in my office without stepping toward the door.

  “Come in. Please,” I added as an afterthought.

  Her shoulders heaved, and I knew she had probably rolled her eyes. She practically stomped into my office, not bothering to close the door or sit down. She stood with one leg turned slightly out and a hand on her hip. I had been around enough women to know that was the pissed off stance.

  It made me a little giddy to know I was getting to her.

  “I'd like to work together on this new ad copy,” I started, gauging her reaction.

  She cleared her throat and looked down at me where I was still seated in my chair. I realized my mistake too late. I had given her the upper hand—literally.

  “Mr. Frasier, I think there's been a misunderstanding. I'm a freelancer. I’m hired to complete a project, and that's it. I’m not here to work with a team. I do the work, and then I go. That's it,” she said, waving a finger in the air.

  I slowly stood, putting us on more even ground. “I understand you’re a freelancer. However, for this particular job, which I am paying you to do, I am telling you I want to oversee it. This job, the one I hired you to do, is important to me, and I’m not willing to leave it to someone who has no real stake in the success of the campaign. Therefore, I will be involved, or I will hire someone who can follow direction.”

  I could practically see smoke shoot from her nostrils. I half-expected her to open her mouth and shoot me with a ball of fire. Her chest heaved up and down as she sucked in long, deep breaths. Her glare was making me a little uncomfortable but in a way I wasn't prepared for. I could feel my dick twitching. I was aroused. The woman who was standing there defiantly challenging my rule had struck a chord somewhere within, and I was hotter than hell.

  And then she snapped.

  A very sweet yet forced smile spread across her face, and she batted her eyelashes. “Of course, Mr. Frasier. I would love to work with you on this very difficult task. I'm sure without you, I could never get it done to your high standards.”

  I practically choked on the sarcasm she doled out. She took me a little off guard, leaving me speechless.

  “Uh, I, we, I'll let you know when I'm ready for you,” I said, feeling like a fool.

  She smiled. It was one of satisfaction. She knew she had unnerved me. She may have won this round, but I never lost. I would win the next.

  “Yes, Sir, Mr. Frasier,” she said before spinning around on a pair of red heels that complimented her red blouse.

  I couldn't help but watch as she walked away. She had a very fine ass. One I could imagine gripping tightly in the palm of my hand while I pummeled into her from behind. A vision of her bent over my desk, her ass in the air and begging for me to fuck her popped into my head.

  I knew she was pissed. She didn't want to work with me. She didn't want me bossing her around and telling her what to do. Typically, I wouldn't, but something about her made me want to push her buttons. I liked watching her get fired up.

  Throughout the day, I called her into my office, demanding she take notes about what I expected. Her frustration level was growing with every conference. Her hair had been smoothed into a ponytail when she first walked in this morning, but now, I could see little stray hairs falling around her face. It looked like she had been in a violent windstorm. It made me a little too happy to see her flustered.

  I knew it was mean and very unprofessional, but I was having too much fun to stop. The sexual tension between us was ramping up with every interaction. It was practically thick enough to taste. At one point, she had been leaning over me, pointing to a spot in the copy with her finger, and her smell had given me such a raging hard-on, I had been unable to move away from my desk.

  “I'm leaving for the day,” she said, standing in the doorway of my office but not stepping inside.

  I looked at my watch, surprised to see it was already five.

  �
��We're not done.”

  “I'll be here tomorrow,” she shot back.

  “I want to get the first section done today.”

  Her jaw set, and I could almost hear her teeth grinding together.