Tease Me: The Macintyre Brothers Book Two

by S. E. Lund

  ELLA: Is the game that bad?

  JOSH: No, I'm at O'Malley's with the crew and some people just want to talk shop. I want to see you. Come to my place tonight after you’re done with the parental units. It's Friday and we can sleep in tomorrow on my nice big four poster bed...

  ELLA: I'll see you at ten.

  JOSH: SCORE!

  ELLA: Haha! Yes, you will. See you at ten.

  JOSH: See you.

  I smiled to myself and put my cell away. Seeing Ella would help wash away the sadness at the news I'd heard earlier about Grant. I had thought that a couple of drinks with Keith and the gang would make me feel more mellow, but if anything, it only made me sadder. It all seemed so superficial.

  It was nine and everyone was starting to get a little drunk. I turned down another drink when the waitress came by.

  "Well, I gotta go," I said and stood up.

  People turned to me, surprised that I was leaving when the party was only now really starting.

  "Leaving so soon?" Jana asked, clearly unhappy about it.

  "Got an early morning bike ride to take. See you folks in ten days. I'll be in California for a week."

  We all said our goodbyes and I left the bar, happy to be on my way home to meet Ella.

  Before I could get to my car, Jana caught up with me and stood really close.

  "Hey, do you want some company?"

  She leaned against me, her body pressed against my arm. I could smell the alcohol on her breath as she leaned even closer.

  "Sorry," I said and opened the car door. "I already have someone waiting for me at home."

  She pouted and stepped back. "Keith said you were single."

  "Keith doesn't know everything about my private life."

  "Oh, okay," she said and shrugged. "If you change your mind, I'm happy to fill any empty spots."

  "I'll let you know."

  Then I drove off, glad to be out of there.

  3

  Ella

  I met my parents at the hotel bar where my father was already on his first glass of scotch. My mother had her usual glass of wine and on my part, I had a soda and lime because I didn't want to drink anything until dinner. My father usually didn't drink in public, but in Manhattan, he'd be largely anonymous, so he could drink without concern about what people would think.

  It was silly, but he tried to keep a very clean public persona.

  "So, dear, tell us more about your new job," he asked, turning to me, his eyes inquisitive. "With all the relatives at the house over the weekend, we really didn't get much time to talk. How is it going?"

  "Great," I said and told them about my first few months on the job and how I had read more manuscripts that I ever imagined. More manuscripts that would never see the light of day because there were just too many for us to publish. We had to find reasons to say no.

  "So, you're working for the enemy," my father said when we moved to the dining room and took our seats at a nice table.

  "He's dead, father," I said, for I knew exactly what he meant. He meant Josh's father, Joshua Macintyre, Sr. The founder of MBS, which was the parent company of Macintyre Broadcasting's publishing subsidiary, Dominion Publishing. "He's no longer the CEO. I'm not working for the enemy."

  "His son took over, and from what I read, the apple didn't fall far from the tree."

  I sighed, not wanting to get into a fight with my father about Josh.

  "I'm sure his son wasn't involved in whatever it was that made you hate Macintyre, Sr. That was twenty years ago when he would be a kid."

  "He bought The Chronicle, and my sources tell me he's going to turn it into another Washington Post if he can. Lots of political coverage. Hard-hitting political coverage. It's no secret that he's a Democrat. I expect he'll keep on his father's tradition of running down the state's conservative candidates like his father did."

  "From what I've heard, he's a very principled guy and is a political moderate, not a member of either party. Just wants to run a decent paper. Restore The Chronicle to its former glory."

  "Have you met him, dear?" my mother asked. "I heard he's single. Is he as good looking as his photo in the paper makes him look?"

  I smiled at her and shook my head. Trust her to wonder whether I'd met him. I couldn't tell either of them that I was sleeping with him every night and had been for the past month.

  "I've seen him around, but he's not involved in Dominion Publishing. He hired someone to take over as CEO in his place. He's too busy with the other work."

  "That's good," my father said.

  "That's too bad," my mother said. At the same time.

  We all laughed. It cut the tension and for the rest of the evening, our talk turned to other matters instead of Josh Macintyre, Jr. I felt very uncomfortable lying to them about him, but I knew I'd get the third degree if I admitted that I was seeing him.

  My mother would be happy, of course, being the perpetual romantic that she was, but my father would hate it. I'd never hear the end of it and then I knew he'd insist on meeting Josh and would probably grill him about his father's television news coverage of the whole political scandal that put my father's former business partner in jail.

  So, the lie was meant to keep the peace. If anything more developed with Josh, if we decided to move in together, I'd have to come clean, but until then, they didn't have to know I was not only friends with him, I was sleeping with him on a regular basis and would very soon be fucking his brains out.

  Our dinner was enjoyable once we got off the topic of the Macintyre family, and I caught up with news from back home, who was doing what outlandish thing in New Hampshire politics, which I was familiar with because of my father and Jerkface. Who among my old friends was now engaged, or had a baby, or was getting a divorce. Who had a new job and who was going to Harvard or Yale.

  "I've only been gone for three months," I said. "How can so much happen?"

  Finally, at nine thirty, after we had coffee and dessert and ran out of steam and conversation, I said good night to them both and took a taxi to the building to meet Josh.

  Yes, I felt incredibly guilty going to him after denying that I knew him and hiding from them that I was more than just an employee -- even if unpaid. Keeping the peace was more important at that point in my life than being honest. It went against my basic nature to tell a lie, but keeping the peace was also an important value.

  I struggled with it. But only for a while. As soon as I got into the elevator and pressed the button for the penthouse, I pushed my parents out of my mind and imagined Josh waiting for me.

  I had a key to Josh's apartment that he gave me the second week we were seriously dating so I could use it whenever I needed to. I had to admit we met during lunch a few times for a quick and passionate session of sex. I never expected I'd be like that with someone new so quickly, but there was something about Josh I couldn't deny.

  He was a heady mix of passion and intensity that made sex even better. Plus, he was so fun. He loved to laugh and enjoyed when we would tease each other. For the first weeks, I walked around in a state of near constant lust whenever I would think of him and imagine the prospect of us spending the night together.

  I arrived at his apartment at about quarter to ten and he was already there when I entered.

  "You're here," I said when I entered the apartment. He was in the kitchen reading a paper on the kitchen island, a glass of something in his hand. He smiled and came to meet me at the entrance while I removed my shoes and jacket.

  "I escaped as quickly as I could."

  "Party was a flop?" I asked, slipping my arms around his neck. He had freshly showered and was dressed only in a white terry cloth robe. We kissed, and he smelled so good. Fresh and clean. Already, my body was beginning to ache for him.

  "It was fine, but I had better things to do than play darts and talk to people about the Knicks."

  "Aren't you going to ask me how my evening went?" I said, only half-serious as he pulled me down the hallway
to the bedroom.

  "Not on your life."

  He pushed me back onto the bed and we laughed as we tumbled onto it and he tried to undress me. For the next hour, at least, I forgot all about my parents and the lie I was living. Finally naked, we kissed and that was the last I heard about the bar until later.

  Much later.

  After, as we lay beneath the sheets, our arms and legs entwined, we talked about my parents and the whole sordid business.

  "Did you tell them about me?" Josh asked, his voice curious.

  "No," I said and bit my bottom lip guiltily. I felt immediately bad that I hadn't by the way his face changed when he heard my answer.

  "Afraid of big daddy, are you?" he said, his voice light, but I could sense an edge of disappointment in his tone.

  "Yes," I replied. I traced the blue tribal tattoo on his bicep, wishing I could change the subject.

  "Come on, Ella," he said, chiding me. "You're an adult. Your father holds no sway over you. You're living in Manhattan all on your own--"

  "I had all my ID, cell and laptop stolen in my first week here."

  "And you managed to get them all replaced without calling daddy. Plus, you have a job--"

  "Unpaid internship," I corrected.

  "You have a man crazy about you, waiting at your beck and call," he said and smiled, nuzzling his nose into my neck. He rolled over on top of me and settled comfortably between my thighs.

  "I do," I said and kissed him.

  "So, you should be able to be open about us to them. I'm not a crook or charlatan. I'm actually a bona fide businessman, with a degree in commerce and I'm a veteran. I'm gainfully employed, have some stock options, and will be starting my own charitable foundation soon. What's not to love?"

  He grinned at me, his eyes twinkling. His hair, which was long on the top, fell into his eyes in this incredibly sexy way. I brushed it aside.

  "Nothing, except your father's past with my father's business partner that got him sent to jail."

  He made a sound in the back of his throat. "It was one of those Ivy League jails, where they have designer overalls and they work in their own gardens to grow organic food and have their own cells with television and Wi-Fi. Hardly much of a hardship. Besides, he broke the law."

  "In my father's mind, his partner was set up and betrayed and your father orchestrated it."

  "My father cooperated with the FBI. Your father's business partner was guilty of insider trading," Josh said firmly. "That's illegal. He was found out in part because of reporters at my father's news corporation. Your father should be happy that the rule of law prevailed."

  "I agree, but he felt that his partner was set up, and was entrapped by a traitor. He hadn't been involved in any kind of criminal act prior to the deal in question."

  "If you were offered the chance to make a million dollars by breaking the law, would you do it?"

  "No," I said and frowned. "Of course not."

  "Well, your father's business partner did. He had the chance to say no, but he didn't." Josh raised his eyebrows and waited for my reply.

  Of course, he was right. I always thought that my father's partner deserved what he got because he did cheat. He broke the law and made millions because he had insider knowledge and used it to sell stocks and make a fortune, but my father was loyal to a fault. That meant he never forgave the news organization and the CEO, who directly approved the sting.

  Joshua Macintyre, Sr., in other words.

  If Josh and I were going to continue to see each other, and I truly hoped we would, I would have to fess up eventually. It was just one of those uncomfortable family conversations I did not want to have.

  I would one day, if it came to that, but at that moment, Josh and I were still too new to each other to rock the family boat.

  "I'll tell my parents one of these days, when the time is right. Not until."

  "Okay," Josh said, and I could hear the resignation in his voice. "You can decide how to deal with your parents. I wish I still had some."

  He gave me a look, which said his father's recent passing still hurt.

  I kissed him, sympathy for him filling me. As much as my father and I locked horns on occasion, and my mother exasperated me, I loved them both. I couldn't imagine being so young and having no father or mother. It explained why he was so close to his brothers.

  Josh woke up in the night in a sweat. It wasn't the first time, but it still shocked me.

  "What?" I asked, my arm around his shoulder.

  He shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. "Just a bad dream."

  "That's another one. Three this past two weeks. Are you under a lot of stress or something?"

  He shrugged. "I got some bad news. A fellow intelligence officer who was in Afghanistan with me died. I'm actually going to his memorial today and will fly right to LA to spend time with David. That probably gave me the nightmare."

  "What happened to him?" I asked, lying back down beside Josh when he did. "He's pretty young to die."

  "I think he killed himself," Josh said, his voice soft. "The obit read suddenly and unexpectedly. That's usually a sign of an accidental death or suicide."

  "I'm so sorry," I said and kissed him.

  It took a while for us both to fall back asleep.

  The next morning, very early because Josh had an 8:00 a.m., flight, we had a quick shower and a love-making session that had both our hearts pumping from exertion. Then, we sat at the kitchen island and had breakfast. Josh scrambled some eggs and made toast, while I made the coffee.

  Despite the early hour, it was an entirely comfortable domestic scene and I smiled to myself as I poured us each a cup.

  "What are you smiling about?" Josh asked when he saw me. He came over after placing our plates on the counter and pulled me into his arms.

  "I was just thinking that you'd make a good Tarzan."

  "What?" he asked, grinning widely. "Are you saying I'm a wild man of the jungle? I just had my hair cut and my beard trimmed. I am anything but Tarzan."

  "Those boxer briefs," I said and glanced down at them. They were leopard pattern and nicely fit his well-developed biker butt and thighs. "You're buff. And that tribal tattoo. All you need is a man bun."

  "Never!" he said with a laugh, kissing me. "No man bun for me. I'd be laughed out of the boardroom."

  I ran my fingers through his hair, which was much longer on top and buzzed shorter on the sides. "I can almost make one, if I had an elastic band..."

  "Get thee behind me, Devil Woman!" he said and wrestled my hands away from his hair. "You won't get a man bun on me if I can help it."

  "Aww, that's too bad," I said with a giggle, when he turned me around in his arms, pinning me in an embrace. "You'd look so incredibly sexy."

  "You don't find me sexy now?" he murmured, his lips at my ear, his breath hot on my skin.

  "You're incredibly sexy. In fact, you're a babe," I said. Then, I laughed out loud when he tickled me under my ribs.

  "A babe?" he said, mock-indignant. "I'll have you know I've been told I'm handsome in a boyish way."

  "Who told you that?" I asked, actually curious.

  "A scout for a modeling agency tried to recruit me when I was seventeen and was at one of the fashion shows with my mom."

  He let go of me and I turned around in his arms, clasping my hands around his neck. "You were? You're very handsome but not in a boyish way any longer. You're just plain handsome in a manly kind of way."

  "Manly," he said with a smile and bent down to kiss me. "What am I going to do without you for a whole week? Are you sure you can't convince Sharon to let you take a vacation?"

  I sighed and kissed him back. "No can do. We have this slave driver of a CEO who wants the Spring Lineup finished before the end of the month."

  "What a bastard," he said and sighed, pressing his lips against my forehead. "Maybe they should replace him."

  "I heard he has an arm's-length relationship with the book publishing business, but
he still demands we meet all our deadlines."

  We stood still in each other's arms and just enjoyed the moment. Josh was going away for a week to LA to do whatever it was he was doing there, which he had postponed for over a month after we started being a regular thing. He'd pushed it back and back and finally, told me he had to go this week, or he'd be behind schedule.

  I didn't want to see him go, and would miss him, but it would give me a week to get caught up with my own writing, which I'd put on the back burner since we started seeing each other.

  "What will I do without you?" he asked, brushing hair off my cheek. "I'll have to resort to the old manual method."

  "It's a tried and tested method," I said with a grin. "You have Mr. Manuel. I have B.O.B."

  "Oh, God. Maybe we can do phone sex."

  "How about Skype sex? I'd like to watch you," I said, raising my eyebrows playfully.

  "I'd like to watch you watching me watch you," he replied, grinning. He bent down and kissed me.

  "It's a date. Call me just before you're ready for sleep and we can sext each other."

  He pulled me tightly against his body and we hugged.

  "Now, unfortunately, I have to finish packing and take a taxi to the airport."

  "And I should go back to my place and get ready to meet my parents for lunch."

  We kissed once more and went about our various tasks. I finished dressing and gathered up my things and went to him for one last kiss and hug before I left.

  "Have a good trip," I said, smiling up at him while he pulled on his jacket. "I'm sorry it has to start out so sad for you."

  "Me, too. Have a good week," he replied and kissed me deeply once more.

  Then I left the penthouse and went down the elevator, a sense of sadness that I wouldn't be with him for a full week.

  I kicked myself mentally. We'd talk every night and probably text each other. Plus, the sexting.

  I'd manage fine...

  4

  Josh

  My early flight to Montgomery gave me some time to read more about Grant's death.