DEFENSE

by Glenna Sinclair

  I was dashing around, too excited to eat breakfast—and maybe still a little full from the Chinese food—when my door buzzed.

  “Who is it?” I asked, puzzled. It was so early.

  “It’s Dan. Buzz me in.”

  This was early for Dan. He’d admitted to me that he rarely showed up at the office before ten. I buzzed him in and finished getting dressed. I didn’t want to ignite the smoldering flames between us into a fire neither of us could manage this morning.

  There was a knock on my door and I opened it, kissing him briefly in greeting. This was the first time he’d been back to my apartment since our initial date, both of us agreeing that we shouldn’t tempt each other.

  “To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?” I asked, putting my hand on my hip as I shut the door behind him.

  “I thought you might like some breakfast, since we didn’t get to have dinner last night,” he said, hefting a brown paper sack and a cardboard caddy of paper mugs. “Bagels and hot chocolate.”

  “Perfect,” I gushed. “It’s so dreary outside. Let me take your coat so it’ll dry out.”

  I hung it on a hook on the door before taking the hot chocolate from him.

  “Cream cheese on your bagel?” he asked, opening drawers until he found my stash of silverware.

  “Sure.” I felt a squeeze of my heart and smiled, blowing on the hot chocolate so it wouldn’t scorch my tongue. I burned it anyway at the first sip, too eager for the sweetness. The way we were right now, together, existing comfortably, was like a couple who’d been married for a while. There wasn’t white hot sexual attraction right now, just a mutual pursuit of simple comforts, like shared breakfast on a chilly, rainy morning. It was almost overwhelmingly cute.

  “Here you go,” he said, smiling at me as he handed me my bagel on a paper plate he’d drawn out of the bag. “Breakfast. Most important part of the day, though maybe not the sexiest.”

  “It was so thoughtful of you to bring all this over,” I said. The bagel tasted so good with the hot chocolate—sweet and salty together.

  “I was hoping I’d catch you in a state of nudity,” he retorted, leering and looking glum all at once. “Isn’t it early for you to go to work?”

  “I guess it’s still early,” I admitted, munching. “I don’t know. I got an early start and I have to ride the wave on that.”

  “What time did you end up getting home last night?” he asked, pulling a bagel apart for himself and pinching off a piece rather than biting in.

  “Ugh, I meant to text you—sorry.” I washed a stubborn mouthful of bagel down with the hot chocolate. “It was pretty late. Almost one o’clock.”

  “Long goddamn meeting,” Dan observed. “It couldn’t have been pleasant sitting there with my troll of a brother.”

  “It was actually really exciting,” I gushed. “I don’t know. Your brother’s really good at what he does, you know. He’s not a troll to everyone.”

  “He’s a troll to enough people.”

  “Manners,” I said briskly. “Anyway, it was really neat to be a part of that. Super high-level stuff. I even got to give my opinion after everything was all said and done.”

  “All said and done?” Dan mused, staring off into nothing, pushing his bagel around on its plate. He hadn’t even put any cream cheese on it. “Sounds like it went pretty well.”

  “It did,” I confirmed, taking another sip of my hot chocolate. “Roland has everything well in hand. Everyone really looks up to him.”

  “I don’t know why,” Dan said sourly. “He has a pretty limited vision for what our company is capable of.”

  I opened my mouth to disagree; Roland had so much vision I couldn’t believe what Dan was saying. But then I closed it again. Something in Dan’s demeanor made me hesitate to reveal anything else about the meeting I’d attended last night. Had I already said too much?

  Was it too high level for the vice president of the company to be included? If it really was about the executives, I wondered why Roland hadn’t invited Dan to be a part of it. But if Dan really wanted such a different future for the company, I imagined it wouldn’t look good to people on the outside of Shepard Shipments to hear the brothers disagree.

  I wondered what else they disagreed on.

  “We should keep work talk at work,” I said, taking another bite of my bagel, forcing myself to talk around the mouthful. “Our time away from work should only be for fun.”

  “You’re right,” Dan said, his expression softening. He popped a bit of bagel in his mouth and chewed it slowly. “No work talk outside of work hours. New rule.”

  “That’s a good rule to have,” I agreed.

  “Let me take you out tonight,” Dan said, taking my hand and kissing it. “We’ll go clubbing. You like dancing, remember?”

  I snorted. “Not that kind of dancing, if you’ll recall.”

  “I’m just teasing you,” he said, exasperated. “We’ll drink and dance the night away. How does that sound? Just a night of pleasure. And I want you to see my place.”

  “You want to embarrass me, is what you want to do,” I said. “I’m sure your place is amazing compared to my apartment.”

  “My place might be a little bigger,” he mused, rubbing his beard as he looked around.

  “Might be?” I slugged his shoulder, and he laughed.

  “Okay, it’s a lot bigger,” he said. “But I’d love to show it to you.”

  “After we drink and dance?”

  “Correct.”

  “Is that a good idea?” I peered up at him, then brushed a few crumbs of bagel from his beard.

  “Of course it’s a good idea,” he said. “You trust me to come up with the plans for our dates, don’t you?”

  “Yes, I do,” I said.

  “Then what’s wrong with this one?”

  “We’ll have been drinking and rubbing up against each other all night,” I explained. “Then, we’ll go back to your place, which is undoubtedly a sex palace, drunk, our inhibitions lowered, and maybe we’ll do something that we’re not quite ready for.”

  Dan took me in his arms. “Who’s not quite ready for it?”

  When I put my arms around his neck to return his embrace, his erection pressed into me almost painfully.

  “Jesus, Dan.”

  “Can I help how attracted I am to you?” he asked. “Let’s just see where tonight takes us. If you feel like riding the wave, if it feels natural, we’ll just fall into it. If it’s no good, we just won’t do it. Okay? There’s no pressure, understand?”

  “Okay,” I said, and kissed him. “But I have to leave for work, or I am going to be late.”

  “My brother had you all night,” Dan said. “He can wait a few more minutes.”

  He kissed me, and I tried not to think of what Roland having me all night would entail. I knew that it wasn’t a good idea to tell Dan about Roland’s feelings for me. I knew it instinctively. Roland had taken the knowledge that Dan and I were dating in stride, but I didn’t think Dan would be so forgiving to learn of Roland’s feelings for me. Was that something I should pay more attention to—the fact that I was hiding more things from Dan than I was from Roland?

  “Thank you for breakfast,” I said, breaking the kiss. “You are a thoughtful individual.”

  “You’re kicking me out, aren’t you?”

  “Yes,” I said sweetly. “I still have a couple of things to do before I leave, and I will see you tonight.”

  “Dress sexy,” he said, sighing as he gave me a last kiss on my forehead and collected his jacket at the door. “It’s a nice club.”

  “I’m sure it’s a nice club,” I said, “and I’m sure I have nothing appropriate to wear.”

  “What about that hot little bikini and thong number you wore at the bar?” Dan suggested, grinning.

  “Alas, molding in some landfill by now,” I said, pouting. “Goodbye, old Beauty. My look tonight will be much classier than that.”

  “I have to admit some di
sappointment,” Dan said.

  “Go!” I urged, laughing. “You won’t be disappointed, but I’ll get off to a shit start of my day if I’m late. Don’t get me in a bad mood if you want a good dancer tonight.”

  The day passed quickly, interactions with Roland were professional and friendly, and I practically ran out of the office at closing so I could go shopping. I might have clothes suitable for the museum and the Space Needle and the nice dinners Dan had been taking me to, but I definitely didn’t have clothes to wear for clubbing.

  I ended up picking out a gorgeous black shirt, cut up each side almost to my breasts, the lack of coverage all the way up hidden with a thick fringe. The only way anyone would be able to see flashes of my skin was if I was in movement. I was pretty sure Dan would adore it. Paired with a pair of heels and some skinny jeans, I knew I would be the belle of the ball.

  When Dan called for me to come downstairs when he arrived to pick me up, he watched me sashay appreciatively across the sidewalk to the car.

  “You are so hot,” he said, reaching for me as I went to buckle up. “Damn! Does this go all the way up?”

  “It goes up far enough,” I said. “You’ll see, out on the dance floor.”

  Dan took the opportunity to explore himself, slipping a hand in to caress my bare stomach, cup a breast gently through my bra.

  “This is even better than the bikini and thong,” he whispered almost worshipfully.

  “I’m glad you think so,” I said, my eyes heavy lidded. “Now. You’d better drive if we’re going to go dancing. I really, really want you to see me dance in this thing. You’ll be amazed.”

  It was more valet parking and more VIP treatment when we arrived at the club. I could’ve sworn that I felt the thump of the bass when we were still two blocks away, it was that loud. I recognized that this was a date that wasn’t going to require many words from either of us. It would be impossible to hear, for one.

  Secondly, Dan seemed very interested in conducting all our conversations by touch.

  We danced feverishly, constantly, with drinks in our hands. I soon discovered I wasn’t drinking my cocktails to get drunk; I was drinking them because I was thirsty from exertion. I tried to get us a couple waters, but Dan laughed them away.

  “Don’t be weak sauce, Beauty,” he said. “Drink with me. Dance with me.”

  Our energy was even more electric in the middle of a crowd, other pairs and singles and groups of people pressing up against us—a stray hand here, a bumped body there. And there were Dan’s hands, impossible to miss, their touch like a brand over my body, on my stomach, lower, squeezing, making me pant for breath.

  We danced the night away until my feet ached and I could dance no more. The heels had been a mistake.

  “Unless you want me to dance barefooted, I suggest we wrap this party up,” I said, hobbling over to our VIP couch.

  “Time to go back to my place?” Dan asked, brightening. He had more to drink than me, and I wasn’t sure he should drive.

  “Of course,” I said. “But we’re taking a cab.”

  “I’m not leaving my car here.”

  “Then I can’t go to your place,” I said sweetly.

  ***

  Dan’s place was at the top of one of the tallest buildings in downtown Seattle. I was still hesitant about coming here, but at least I’d won the battle over taking the taxi.

  I forgot about all of my worries when we arrived and Dan turned on all the lights.

  “Holy shit,” I said, then gawked freely.

  There was a waterfall all along one wall, and everything was smooth, reflective. There were seating options everywhere, large floor pillows and lush couches and chairs. The kitchen was big enough to serve a buffet, and I could only imagine what the bedroom entailed. Dan appeared to be a man who enjoyed his very expensive comforts.

  “I knew it,” I said accusatorially, whirling around after I’d been gaping at my surroundings for a full five minutes. “I knew this was a sex palace.”

  “Home, sweet home,” Dan said, grinning as he held his arms out. “Do you like it? I really want you to like it.”

  “Like it? I love it!” It was maybe a little garish for my simpler tastes, to be sure, but it was a really, really nice house. There were floor to ceiling windows that perfectly framed the sparkling lights of the buildings around us, and I was sure we would be able to see the sea in the daylight. Maybe even Mount Rainier, the shadowy, hulking beast Dan had pointed out to me when we were at the top of the Space Needle.

  “Drinks,” he said, snapping his fingers and jogging over to a full-service bar. “I could call a guy, and he could be over here in five minutes, if you want a bartender.”

  “I think we can tend our own bar,” I laughed. “I don’t think we even need any more drinks. Dan, this is a beautiful place. I’m so glad you showed it to me.”

  I was tired. The dancing had taken a lot out of me, and I hadn’t gotten enough sleep the night before. Everything was catching up to me, including all the drinks I’d had at the club.

  “I’ve got something else to show you.”

  I turned around to see Dan right before he tangled his hand in my hair and kissed me, hard. I fought to keep up with his insistent, aggressive tongue, but our teeth clashed almost painfully several times.

  “Gently,” I said, smiling at him.

  “I want you so bad,” he said, kissing me again, his hand painful in my hair, his other hand pawing at the sides of my shirt again, searching for what was underneath.

  We did a slow waltz to the bed, me at war with myself and with Dan, not sure that I wanted this—even if I was turned on. I was trying to extricate myself from what was swiftly becoming a bad situation.

  “Dan, wait,” I said, at the moment we fell into the soft mattress. “I don’t think…I’m still not ready.”

  “Are you ever going to be ready, Beauty?” he asked. “Maybe you should just take the plunge.”

  “I can’t,” I said simply. “Not until I’m sure. There are a lot of things going on with me, Dan. You knew that going in.”

  “I think maybe you should just get over it,” he suggested.

  I blinked a couple of times. “Get over it? Do you think it’s that easy?”

  “Here’s what I think is easy.” His hand, which had never disentangled itself from my hair, yanked my head back painfully.

  “Ow, Dan, what the fuck?” I complained, reaching back for his fingers.

  He yanked again, and I inhaled sharply. What was he doing?

  “I think you give me what I want, right now,” he said.

  “Stop joking around,” I said. “It’s not funny anymore, Dan.”

  “It’s not funny that I’ve been walking around with blue fucking balls for the past fucking month,” he sniped. “And it’s also not funny that you know more about my company than I do.”

  I was slow—oh, so slow—to understand that this wasn’t a joke. This wasn’t a game. Dan might’ve been drunk, but he knew exactly what he was doing.

  He was hurting me. He was using me. And I had walked right into it.

  “So give me what I want, Beauty,” he said, his face menacingly close to mine. “Or I’ll take it.”

  Chapter 13

  The situation I’d found myself in was so ludicrous, so bizarre that I couldn’t quite wrap my mind around the fact that it was actually happening.

  Dan Shepard, the vice president of Shepard Shipments, a man who had more money than he knew what to do with, who was gorgeous and charismatic, who had shown more than a passing interest of me, was now stinking drunk and in my face, demanding something of me that I wasn’t about to give him.

  How had this deteriorated so far? We’d been on a date—and having a very good time, I thought—before coming back to his place. Everything had been fine up until this point. Maybe Dan had a little too much to drink, but I could admit to being a little tipsy myself.

  Until now, of course. I’d been shocked and disgusted and scared
completely sober by Dan’s sudden switch.

  “What’ll it be, Beauty?” he asked me, his liquor-tinged breath filling my nostrils, making me want to gag. It was hard to breathe; he had his full weight on top of me and a hand tangled in my hair, pulling painfully and making it even harder to figure out how to extricate myself from this, or if that option was even available to me.

  Was there a way out of this?

  I fought down a rising tide of panic and pain and hurt. There would be time for all of that later. Right now, I had to deal with the crisis at hand. I had to try and understand what was happening before I could push toward a solution.

  Dan had said I’d been giving him blue balls. It was an ugly concept. I hadn’t been trying to cause him duress, but there it was. I’d asked for us to take it slow, and he’d always been pushing us along. This very morning, when he’d shown up, unannounced, to my apartment bearing breakfast and asked me out for tonight’s date, I’d expressed misgivings. There were things I just wasn’t ready to do again yet. In my grief and guilt at being the person responsible for four deaths that had included my parents and best friend, I’d tried to fill the hole inside of me with sex.

  Now that I was emerging on the other side of that dark period of my life, I wanted to be sure that sex was something I wanted with a person I cared for.

  Dan, however, was pushing for me to make that decision sooner rather than later.

  The other thing he’d said before he forced himself on me was that he was sick of me knowing more about Shepard Shipments than he did. That struck me as strange. How could I possibly know more about the company Dan was a vice president of than he did? I was just a lowly assistant to his brother, Roland, who was the president.

  In an instant, I understood. Myra, my predecessor, had alerted me to the fact that being Roland’s assistant meant a lot more than what it sounded like. Since Roland tended to lock himself away in his office, unseen, his assistant acted as his brain, eyes, ears, and mouth throughout the rest of the company. I attended meetings in his stead and reported back to him both what had transpired and what I thought about it.

  It was that last little bit of analytical work that had apparently begun to endear me to Roland. He’d started relying on my opinion more and more—and the fresh eyes my relative inexperience brought to the table. That was why he’d invited me to take notes at his conference call with the heads of other companies across the globe. He’d wanted my input on the direction he was thinking of taking Shepard Shipments.