by Winters, KB
“Not anymore,” I added, after a beat.
“I’m sorry, Miss Rand. I’d had a rough day. A rough year, to be more accurate.” He paused and dragged a hand through his thick, brown hair. “But you’re right, that wasn’t your fault, and I shouldn’t have taken out my frustration on you.”
I wasn’t sure how to reply, so I shrugged.
“So can we call an official cease-fire?” he asked, taking a step closer to me.
“Listen,” I started, putting up a hand in between us. He was dangerously handsome in his suit, like all the James Bonds wrapped up into one delicious package. And I knew myself well enough to know that if I let myself get close enough to touch him, I wouldn’t stop. “Let’s just keep this professional. You do your job, let me do mine, and when everything is sorted out, you let me go back to what I’m supposed to be doing.”
He closed the remaining space between us in one stride and braced himself with one hand on the wall above my head as he leaned in close to me. “And what if I don’t want to?”
My breath caught in my chest as I struggled to keep from panting. “Don’t want to what Mr. Brighton?”
He lowered his head before he answered, until his lips were just brushing the edge of my ear. “What if I don’t want to let you go?”
The breath I had been holding, escaped in a sigh and before I could react, his lips were on mine in an aggressive, invasive, desperate kiss. I popped up in the tip-toes of my heels and let my body crash into his, my soft curves pressing against his firm body as the kiss deepened and became more frantic. His free hand worked up my back to the sliver of bare skin and underneath the thin fabric of the shrug. His fingertips were gentle on my skin, despite the roughness of his kiss. His lips left mine and began to trail back to my ear. I lay my head back against the wall, panting as he nibbled and sucked on my tender earlobe. A small moan escaped my lips and he responded by pressing me back against the wall and moving his lips lower on my neck. His hands started to pull at the shrug and the sensation of the soft fabric sliding down my shoulder was enough to jolt me back to consciousness. The panic of my secret being revealed was like a bucket of ice water over my head.
“Let me go,” I said, not recognizing my own voice as it echoed down the empty hallway.
Cooper instantly released me and backed away without a word, but when his eyes found mine, they were wild with want.
I ran my hands along my dress and shrug, making sure everything looked right, and more importantly, that my tattoos were covered.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t do this.”
“Why not?”
I looked down the hallway for a second before bringing my eyes back to his. “I just can’t, please trust me.”
He looked ready to argue but then his face shifted again and he nodded. He didn’t even bother to straighten his jacket or tie. My mind flashed back to replay the way he’d felt against me and a wave of heat slid down my stomach. I wished I could turn off my paranoid brain and just fling back into his arms, give myself over to the pleasure and the feeling of being wanted. He was intoxicating. But I knew that it would never be enough.
“Let me walk you out,” he said, offering me his arm.
“No need. I’ve kept you from your guests long enough. Goodnight, Mr. Brighton.”
He opened his mouth to object but eventually just said, “Goodnight, Allison.”
Chapter Seven
“Did you hear what happened at the Plush launch party last night?”
I sat up straighter in my seat. I had been slumped over the one of the break room tables for the better part of a half an hour, avoiding my email inbox, Rita, and Bryce—in that order. I’d almost left when the pack of secretaries made their entrance, not in the mood to listen to their chitter-chatter. But at the new topic, my ears perked up even as I felt my stomach drop, sure I knew what would be coming next.
“No! Tell me!” another voice demanded.
“Well, Becca was there on a date, some uber rich guy. Anyways, she told Jeannie, who told me, that Cooper Brighton was there totally making out with some chick outside the bathroom.”
I stifled a laugh and settled for an eye roll instead. Sometimes, I felt like I slipped into a wormhole and ended up back in high school.
“So what? He’s always with another woman. Every event he has some new hoochie.”
“No, no, this was different.”
“How?”
“The girl he was with works here!”
They all gasped in apparent horror. I stiffened in my seat and turned my face away, feeling my cheeks heat up.
“No way! Who is she?”
“Becca said there is a new girl that has been working with him on the new campaign, so it’s probably her, but from what I’ve heard, I don’t think she’s really his type.”
“Well whoever she is, she better hope Rita doesn’t find out.”
They all broke out in a cackle. “No kidding!” one of them added.
They were still laughing and whispering to each other as they filed out of the break room, coffee cups refilled, and headed back to their posts. I gathered up my granola bar and coffee mug and surrendered to the fact that I had to talk to Bryce about what happened and get his advice on what to do next.
Conveniently, he was already waiting for me back at my cubicle. Well, more accurately, he was pacing along the wall, scouting the office. As soon as he saw me, he pounced. “Where have you been?” he hissed. “I’ve been looking for you all morning.”
“What is the matter with you?” I said, looking down at his hand that was firmly grasping my arm.
“Sorry,” he released me. “But we need to talk. Now. My office.”
“Okay.”
I followed closely behind him as we made our way to his office. Once there, he shut the door behind us and dropped the blinds so no one could see us inside.
“What the hell were you thinking?” He spun around and stared me down.
I gaped at him. “What are you talking about?”
“I thought I made it clear that you were to keep Mr. Brighton happy until all this drama blew over. I also thought I made it clear that you are under no circumstances in a position where you can get involved with him!” He raked his hands through his thinning hair before turning his fierce gaze back on me.
“Nothing happened,” I answered, struggling to hold back the frustrated scream that was bubbling up inside me.
“Don’t lie to me. I’m risking my job to help you. I deserve the truth.” Bryce sat in his chair.
I looked down at my shoes and turned over ideas in my mind, stalling for time while I tried to think of how to say what I needed to tell him.
“Did you, or did you not, kiss him at the party last night?”
My head popped up. “Yes, but it’s not what you think. I didn’t want to kiss him! He kissed me!”
“So he forced himself on you? Is that what you’re telling me? If so, we need to go to Rita right now.”
The memory of the kiss that had haunted my thoughts all night long replayed for the millionth time and a shiver of electricity tingled down my body. “No,” I admitted. “He didn’t. I don’t know what happened, things just got out of control. It was only a minute…I think.”
Bryce buried his face in his hands. “I don’t know how to fix this for you. There are strict policies in place and violation of those can and will result in your termination.”
Rita’s threats of firing Bryce rang through my mind as I helplessly watched his distress.
“Does Rita know?”
“Not yet, but she will soon.”
“Okay, hold tight. I’m going to fix this.” I stood and bolted from the room before Bryce could finish his sentence that I’m sure was an order to sit back down.
I circled back to my desk long enough to grab my bag and then made my way downstairs to my car. I could have sworn I heard whispering and hushed voices as I snaked through the department on my way to the elevator bank, but I kept my head d
own and hurried. Once in my car, I dialed Cooper on my cell phone. His secretary told me he wasn’t available but offered to put me through to his voicemail. I declined and hung up. I scanned through my email and in one of the old messages found his cell phone. I dialed and waited, but it went to voicemail as well. Unsure of what to say, I hung up instead. No one was in the parking lot but I was uneasy with paranoia as my eyes darted from one corner of the lot to the other. My fingers tapped out a nervous beat on the steering wheel while my brain plotted.
After a few minutes of stewing, I finally thought of an idea. I leaned across the passenger seat and ripped my laptop out of my bag. I booted it up, continuing my sentinel watch as it went through the loading screens.
“Finally,” I said to the empty car when the chime sounded that it was awake. I opened a few windows and let my hacker brain take over. I entered his cell phone into my program and let the computer do the rest. Within minutes, I had a real time track on his phone’s GPS signal. I plugged it into a direction app and found his location:
Sweet Treats Pastries
What the…?
So Mr. Hard Body has a sweet tooth. Interesting.
I flipped the car into reverse and sped out of the lot.
Twenty minutes later, I arrived outside a shopping center and parked in front of the bakery. I spotted the car I had fixed as I stalked to the front door. The monologue I had mentally prepared during the drive was ricocheting around my mind with each step.
I opened the door of the shop and was greeting by a young girl at the front counter but before I could answer, I was cut off by a surprised-sounding Cooper who was seated at a small table by the front window.
“What are you doing here?”
I flopped into the seat across from him. “I need to talk to you and you weren’t answering my calls.”
“How did you know I was here? Did my assistant tell you?”
I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter how. I need you to listen to me now.”
He bristled and sat back in his chair. Under any other circumstances, his put-out expression at me interrupting his coffee and pastry would probably have been hilarious, but in that moment it only fueled my frustration.
“You need to call Rita and tell her that the gossip is just that—gossip. We did not do anything inappropriate at the event, you like working with me, and Bryce too, and that everything is fine.”
I grabbed his cell phone that was lying on the table near his coffee cup, flipped to his contacts, pulled up Rita’s direct extension, and handed him the phone back again.
“Here.”
He snatched the phone out of my hands. “What do you think you’re doing?” he growled, his voice low and dangerous.
I’ll admit, I had gone off the script a little, and quite possibly a “please” might have helped my case, but at the end of the day, what I was asking—okay, demanding—he do, wasn’t much, considering how completely screwed up and complicated he had been making my life since entering it a week ago.
He stood from the table and shoved the phone back into his pocket. He flipped open his wallet, threw a wad of cash on the table. “Get up,” he said to me.
Before I could object, he turned away from me and I watched as his entire expression changed into a polite smile and he waved his thanks to the woman at the counter. She looked completely confused by everything she was witnessing but she returned his smile and said goodbye.
“Let’s go,” he said to me again, his face back to stone.
I stood and followed as he left the shop, stepping through the door as he held it open. Once we were outside, he grasped my elbow with one hand. He held firm but not tight, and steered me towards his car.
“Get in,” he said after opening the passenger door.
“What is with this caveman, two syllable thing?” I asked, stopping short of the car and anchoring my feet to the pavement, silently refusing to take another step. “Get up, let’s go, get in? I don’t think so. You want to talk? Great! But you can do it right here. I’m not going anywhere with you.”
A flicker of shock flashed in his eyes but he backed down. He slammed the car door and went around to the driver’s side. “If you want to talk business, it will be conducted in my office.” That said, he opened his door and got in the car. “I’ll be waiting for you there, whenever you calm down and drop the theatrics.”
“Ugh,” I groaned. “Fine!” I opened the car door and threw myself into the passenger seat. He silently waited for me to buckle myself in before he revved the engine and tore out of the parking lot. We didn’t speak during the drive. I crossed my arms and stared out the window, pressing as close to the passenger side door as possible.
I had never been to his office before, but there was no mistaking it when we pulled up to the gleaming skyscraper in the heart of the city a few minutes later. A huge sign with green letters was nestled against the building on the top: “Brighton Enterprises.” I did my best to mask my impression, wondering why I had never connected the dots before this. I’d heard of Brighton Enterprises.
We pulled up and a doorman raced out to open the door for me. Cooper let himself out and crossed in front of the car to meet the young man, his friendly smile back in place.
“Thank you, Jackson. Would you mind?” He held up the keys.
Jackson smiled and gave a nod. “Of course, Mr. Brighton.”
“Thank you.” He turned back to me. “Shall we?”
I snarled to myself but allowed him to usher me up the walk to the front of the enormous building, waiting only long enough for another man to open the door for us when we got within a few feet.
“Thank you, Tom,” he said with a nod.
As soon as we entered the building, he took the lead and I followed a few steps behind, watching as he interacted with the people who crossed our path. I was surprised to see him greet everyone by name. We got to the elevators and he ensured that the car we took was empty. He entered the floor, number 62, and we stood in an awkward silence as we ascended. The only sound was the quiet whooshing of the elevator and the dinging as we stopped at different floors to let others rotate in and out. All of them going about their daily business, completely oblivious to the volcano of tension between Cooper and me—the frustrated tension that seemed to build with each floor. Cooper was quiet and by looking at him, he seemed normal—or at least what I imagined his normal to be—but the energy radiating from him was like a tightly wound spring, ready to pop.
After what seemed like the longest elevator ride of my life, we were alone when the bell for floor 62 rang out. Cooper ushered me forward again and placed his hand on my lower back for just the blink of an eye to signal me to turn left. I walked forward and stopped a few feet later in front of a large desk where his—I’m assuming—assistant sat, pecking away at a keyboard.
No surprise…she was a willowy blonde, dressed all in black, with yellow gold jewelry setting off her tan and her green eyes.
“Mr. Brighton!” she said as he stepped into view alongside me. The gleam of adoration in her eyes as she greeted him both revolted me and also sent a spike of jealousy through me.
I shook that off and plastered an equally as fawning look on my face when she turned to give me a once-over.
“Good afternoon, Kimberly. Please hold all my calls.”
She nodded and though her smile held, I could see a flicker of disgust flash my way as I passed her and followed Cooper into his office.
He shut the door behind me and I stepped forward into the large room. There were floor to ceiling windows instead of walls that offered a spectacular view of the city. Like a moth to a flame, I stepped closer and couldn’t hide my amazement any longer. This whole thing was starting to seem really surreal. I guess I should have expected nothing less for a millionaire’s, or maybe even a billionaire’s office, but then again, I hadn’t really given it much thought or imagination before now.
“You have my attention,” Cooper’s voice called to me from across the r
oom.
I turned away from the window and found him leaned up against his desk, his arms folded across his chest. His expression was neutral, unreadable.
“I already told you what I want. I don’t even know why you had to bring me here. Just to show off your fancy office and your view, I guess.” I tried to keep my voice sharp, demanding his attention and respect, but his exterior calmness wasn’t leaving me much to work with. I was starting to feel like an impatient toddler, stomping my feet and throwing a tantrum.
He grunted. “Do you ever let your guard down and turn off the attack mode thing you have going on?”
His question surprised me and I fumbled for a response. My fingers started fidgeting with the edge of my jacket sleeves. Cooper stepped away from his desk and crossed the room to me. In an instant, I knew what was going to happen next, but I couldn’t—or wouldn’t—stop it.
“You’re too beautiful to be this jaded,” he said.
I couldn’t stop what happened next. In the blink of an eye, his hands were on my waist, sliding down my hips. His cologne was filling my nose, clouding my senses, his touch warm and hypnotic as his fingertips roamed around to my ass and then up my spine.
“I must have you.”
My voice caught in my throat at his words and I couldn’t speak. My eyes flashed towards the door, suddenly keenly aware of my surroundings, a whole horde of people waiting outside the door probably waiting to speak with him.
His face lowered to mine and his lips found their way to my neck. He groaned as he breathed in deeply, kissing the spot below my ear before his tongue flicked up and across my earlobe, sending a jolt of pleasure through my entire body. My legs felt like they were about to give out and I relaxed my body into his. He wrapped his arms around me and brought his mouth up to mine, backing me up against the wall.
I felt his hands wander up down my back and rested on the top part of my ass, a light pressure grabbing me and pulling my hips toward his.
