by Jenn Hype
In all of my five hours at my new (maybe) job, I’d deduced that The Big Four had either worked there the longest or knew the boss the best. Sebastian was a lot like CJ, more on the broody side and not as quick to goof off as Liam or Malcolm, but the men respected him. They stood a little taller when he entered the room. If I had to guess, I’d say he was most likely CJ’s second-hand in command, though digging proved he didn’t have the title.
After I’d finished cleaning CJ’s office, I helped myself to a little wandering where I stumbled upon Reed’s Bat Cave - his words, not mine. Basically, it was a big room that felt incredibly small because of the millions of computers taking up all the space. He hadn’t been chatty at first. Or even by the end, but I kept at him. He warmed to me… fractionally. What information I did glean from Reed was that he was one of CJ’s first hires and the resident computer whiz. Though he’d only left his Bat Cave one time so far, he did so to bark orders, to which the men quickly hopped up and did as instructed.
Liam and Malcolm were something else entirely. The morning had flown by and I hadn’t been able to speak to them privately, so they still remained somewhat of a mystery. They appeared to be your typical man-children, frat boys that never grew up. Always joking, never sitting still. It wouldn’t surprise me to find out they had a stash of whoopee cushions hidden in their desks.
“You see,” Rose started, yanking me back to the present. “My son doesn’t lose his temper. In fact, ever since he left the military, he doesn’t show much emotion at all. He likes to control everything, and emotions are too unpredictable. His sisters do everything they can to rile him up, but he never does anything but smile at them. The boys here don’t do any better.”
It took a second to digest what she was saying. Once it processed, I frowned.
“So you’re saying that no matter what anyone else does, CJ never loses his robot-like demeanor. Yet, less than a day was all it took for me to get him so angry that he finally lost his cool?”
She smiled, but I only frowned deeper. Sure, I figured it was irritating how persistent I’d been around CJ. Hell, let’s call a spade a spade and just say I was totally obnoxious. I didn’t want him to hate me. I could live with him finding me extremely annoying or barely tolerable, but did he already dislike me so much that he’d go berserk? That just made me feel like crap.
“Stop that now. Frowning will give you wrinkles, and you’re much prettier when you smile.”
Rose’s attempt to cheer me up was sweet, and I tried to force a smile for her sake.
“Let’s just cut to the chase, shall we?” Rose said, sitting up straighter. “To my understanding, this is a working interview. I’m going to ask a favor of you, and in return I will offer you a guarantee that you’ll not only get the job, but you’ll keep it.”
That had me perking right up. “Oooh, I’m intrigued. Do go on.”
“The favor is that you keep doing what you’re doing. My son has always shown great restraint, but when he was younger, he would at least let himself enjoy life once in a while. You can’t know how hard it is as his mother to see him walk around like a shell of the man he once was. Right now, all those pent up emotions might be surfacing as anger, but showing any emotion at all is progress in my opinion. If he gets too out of hand or if you’re concerned, you can just call me up.” Rose leveled a serious look at me and I squirmed in my seat. “But don’t be afraid of him. He’s all bark and no bite, I can promise you that. I raised that boy right, and he might say something in the heat of the moment, but he’d never lay a hand on you. And I can promise you that no matter how angry he might get at you, he won’t fire you if I tell him not to.”
“Well, cook a book.”
Rose’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
“I was going to say fuck a duck, but I didn’t think it would be appropriate.”
Rose’s head fell back and she laughed heartily. Then she put her hand over mine on the table and looked at me, eyes alive with mirth. “You’re going to be good for him. I just know it.”
Swallowing back an unexpected wave of emotion, I smiled and blushed under her praise.
For the next few minutes we did some conspiring. She gave me tips on some of CJ’s pet peeves, which would be great ammo for later.
“I’ll let his sisters in on the plan. They will be great resources for you,” she explained as she programmed their numbers into my phone.
By the time we parted, I no longer felt guilty for driving CJ crazy. How could I be when the excitement of my new secret spy mission had me practically bouncing with giddiness? Not only had I just landed a job, but I also no longer had to worry about my lack of filter around CJ biting me in the ass.
I rubbed my hands together evilly. Time to execute mission Make Momma Proud.
CHAPTER FOUR
CJ
“The secret to winning an argument with a woman: They have to be dead.”
- John Betz, Jr.
When your mother storms into your office, demands you hire a person you can’t stand and then threatens you bodily harm if you dare fire said employee, you tend to be in a pissy mood.
Thirty-two fucking years old and the owner of a very successful and lucrative private security business, yet my mom was still telling me what to do. And before you go calling me a momma’s boy or criticizing me for not standing up to her, let me just say one thing: If you met Rose Jade, you’d understand.
See, my dad had taught me early in life that not only do you treat women with respect, but more importantly, you pick your battles with them, too. Most especially a woman you couldn’t easily get away from. My sisters were the only exception to this rule. As their older brother, it was my duty to piss them off as often as possible. My mom, however, was terrifying when she wanted to be. Plus the woman had broken her back raising us. I wouldn’t be the man I am today if it weren’t for her, so if she asked something of me, I tried to make it happen. It seemed like the least I could do.
I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d gone apeshit on someone like I had on Blake. Other than my sisters, I couldn’t remember even raising my voice to a woman. Blake deserved an apology, I knew that. Didn’t mean she was going to get one. Just because my mom had strong-armed me into hiring her didn’t mean I had to play nice.
For twenty minutes I’d waited on edge for them to come out of the break room. When they finally did, they were laughing like old friends. I didn’t like it one bit.
My mom wasn’t the only one falling for Blake. All the guys loved her, too. It made me feel like I was the crazy one.
Why was I the only one who saw just how much trouble Blake really was?
I asked Reed, our tech guru and hacker extraordinaire, to do a more thorough background check than we normally did. Which was saying a lot because we were extremely thorough out the gate. Our line of business required us to protect the citizens that hired us, and that included not only protecting their lives, but also their privacy. Whether or not my mom wanted Blake there, I couldn’t hire her if it was at all possible she might wind up causing a security breach. That meant I needed more than a criminal record; I needed to know her personally.
Since Reed wouldn’t have all the extra info for a couple days, I retreated to my office to hide. Yeah, hide. Blake had reduced me to hiding in my own office like a fucking coward. Though my avoidance stemmed mostly from wanting to keep my anger from simmering too close to the surface, which inevitably happened anytime she was around. Plus the guys were most likely waiting for an opportunity to give me shit, only this time they had actual ammunition.
The one good part of the day was when Clarissa canceled our morning meeting. I could only handle one crazy woman a day. Really, even one was pushing it.
It was late when I finally took off. No one was around, including Blake. When I stepped onto the second floor landing of my apartment building, I tiptoed down the hall - literally. Like Blake would somehow hear my footsteps and jump out of her apartment and attack me again. Slowly
turning the key in my door handle, so as not to jingle anything, I let out a sigh of relief when I was finally inside.
Two hours later, my head finally hit the pillow and I felt… disappointed. What the fuck was that about? Blake was home. I’d heard her running a vacuum and clanking something that sounded suspiciously like dishes. Even though she hated doing dishes. And I hated myself for remembering that.
With each minute that had ticked by without her banging on the walls and spouting nonsense about talking in code I grew more irritated. All I’d wanted was a night of peace. She’d given it to me. She didn’t pick my lock and come barging in or slip a note under my door or whatever crazy shit she might normally have done. Which I was grateful for. Not frustrated over.
I was laying there in bed, lying to myself, when I heard her shower kick on. How had I not noticed how thin the walls between the apartments were?
My mind wandered without permission. Visions of Blake underneath a hot stream of water, using her hands to soap up her body assaulting me as I laid there in the dark. I tried to put a stop to the barrage of images, but they just kept coming, and eventually I gave in to the curiosity and actively tried to imagine what Blake would look like. Would her breasts be pert, her nipples hard? Would her wet skin be slick and smooth under my calloused hands?
Soon my dick was too hard to ignore. I caved, gripping it tightly in my fist and tugging roughly. Using my thumb, I spread my precum from the tip down the shaft. My hips bucked off the bed when my slick palm made that first stroke up, then back down. The friction warmed my skin, but it wasn’t enough. I didn’t want to feel the rough skin of my hand. I wanted to feel the soft, wet heat of Blake’s pussy as I drove into her. To feel her milking every last drop of cum from my body until I had nothing left to give.
Would she be bare, or would her flesh be covered with a dusting of hair? What would she taste like beneath my tongue? Honeysuckle and something uniquely Blake, if I had to guess. I could almost taste it on my tongue as I pictured my mouth closing around her clit, latching on and sucking until her orgasm grew so intense she pleaded with me to stop.
Like a fucking canon, I exploded. Hot semen spilled out onto my hand and torso. It was a fucking mess, and after a few minutes, I had no choice but to get up and shower. Like hell was I going to lay in my own cum all night. By the time my head hit the pillow again, I was even more exhausted. Still, sleep continued to evade me. Before I knew it, my alarm was going off and I’d barely slept an hour.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d considered taking a day off work, but I was definitely tempted. Shame and regret followed me the entire four block walk to the office. Giving in to temptation, even if only in my head, was a mistake. Nothing could happen with her. Ever. There was no denying I was obviously attracted to her - physically. Personality-wise, I wasn’t sure I could live another day without doing something seriously regrettable. Like murder.
And so my morning walk went; me warring with myself every few steps. I’d go from wanting to punch a wall at the thought of seeing her to wanting to take a sledgehammer to said wall and fucking destroying it entirely at the idea of not seeing her.
The unwelcome, indecisive thoughts meant one thing: Blake had to go. Permanently.
Not six-feet-under permanent. Just out-of-my-life permanent.
There had to be a way to get rid of her. Admittedly, my mom seeming to be the captain of Team Blake made it more difficult, but not impossible. All that meant was I couldn’t outright fire her or be an asshole without taking shit for it for at least the next decade. I’d have to spin it. Make it look like Blake was the problem, not me. Considering how damn enamored everyone was by her already, it would be a challenge.
I never shied away from a challenge.
Nearing the building that housed Jade Securities, I took my last few minutes of peace to catalogue what I’d learned about Blake in the limited amount of time I’d spent with her.
* Quick to attack; Signs of danger did not send her screaming for the hills.
* Not easily intimidated; Forcing her out of my apartment, slamming the door in her face, screaming at her - none of it scared her off.
* Overly confident; Jumped into her new position without fear of failing.
That last one was the kink in her armor. Being entirely certain of yourself was naïve and allowed room for error. Not approaching things from a tactical, strategic standpoint would inevitably wind up backfiring. I’d have to be diligent and creative, but setting her up for failure wouldn’t be too hard to pull off.
My mind drifted to one particular mission in Afghanistan that took place during my first tour. Our team had to stealthily infiltrate a small village to recover a target wanted by our government. Did we just storm in there, guns blazing? Did we throw a damn parade and shoot off fireworks to alert the enemy of our arrival? No. We checked the perimeter, set up snipers for cover, waited until the dead of night and snuck in quietly. No one even knew we were there until the man in question was apprehended.
That’s how I needed to handle Blake. Like she was a crafty insurgent. If I was going to pull this off without anyone realizing it had been intentional, I’d have to earn her trust. Make it look like I was just as shocked to see her screw up as everyone else. Considering I’d been a total ass to her so far, it would take some effort to get on her good side. Charming women wasn’t exactly my strong suit, but I was confident I could pull it off. Not unlike an undercover operation. I’d never done any sort of undercover work, but it wasn’t like I didn’t have the skill set for it.
For days we’d sit on enemies, watching and waiting for an opportunity to slink in undetected. I could be patient. It would help if I had a team of guys helping me gain intel. Doing it on my own would take more time than preferred, but I’d manage. I just needed a plan, an outline of what needed to be done to reach the end goal.
Now that I had a plan - well, a plan to make a plan - my mood had lifted considerably.
That lasted all of two seconds.
The second I threw my office door open, I was greeted by the sight of Blake standing in front of my desk, her ass resting right on the ledge, tapping her finger on a tablet.
“Morning, Mr. Jade,” she said evenly without looking up. “I took the liberty of grabbing you coffee on my way in. A shot of cream, extra strong, just how you like it.”
Hmmm. Maybe getting her to trust me won’t be so difficult. She’s bringing me coffee. That means she doesn’t hate me, right?
Promising. Unless…
I eyed the cup dubiously.
“I didn’t poison it, if that’s what you’re thinking. What good would it to do kill my boss on my second day? I sorta need this job to be able to pay bills and, ya know, eat and stuff.”
Her gaze fell back to her tablet. I was left reeling over her fucking mind reading abilities.
Paranoia made me hesitant to trust that she hadn’t done something to the coffee, but the bone-deep exhaustion won out. Taking a giant gulp, I groaned as the hot liquid burned its way down my throat. It had been so long since I’d had a cup of coffee that tasted so good. I really sucked at making my own drinks and never had time to go out and get one.
“You have a conference call with Millikin at eight. From ten to eleven you have an opening, so that would be a good time to return phone calls. I made a list of everyone who needs to be called. If you want to let me know which ones are most pressing, I can get them on the line for you when the time comes. Mr. Bryant needs you to review the new contract and get back with him by the end of the day. There’s a copy in your email, but I also printed out a hard copy and placed it on your desk.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” I interjected. I had her full attention for the first time since walking in, and I kind of wished she’d go back to staring at her tablet.
Her hair had been pulled back the first two times I’d met her, the first day in a messy bun that matched her paint-stained jeans and tank top. Yesterday it was in a more professional style and she�
��d replaced her wrinkled clothes for a neatly pressed pant suit. Today it was down in loose waves, her bright red hair stopping just above the swell of her ass. Which I couldn’t help but notice looked phenomenal in her tight grey skirt. The peach-colored shirt she wore was sheer but she’d layered it over a matching tank top and tucked it into her skirt, making it look more professional than racy.
Blake was undeniably beautiful. Her pink lips curled up into a demure smile and with the sun rising behind her, she looked deceptively sweet. Dark chocolate eyes watched me expectantly. Like a puppy who just graduated from training school, she waited patiently to be praised. She deserved it. If she were anyone else, I probably would have fell to her feet and wept with gratitude. Day two, and she had already proven herself capable.
That annoying voice that belonged to the angelic side of my conscience chastised me for plotting her demise. The little devil on my shoulder piped up, reminding me that I couldn’t stand Blake. Helpful as she’d been already, it wasn’t worth the price I’d have to pay to keep her around. And part of me couldn’t help but wonder if she was playing a game just as much as I’d resolved to do just that morning. Her acting polite, normal even, only raised my skepticism a few levels. So she’d impressed me. So what? I’d be a fool to let my guard down too easily.
“Okay, listen,” I said with heavy exasperation. “You’ve done okay so far, I’ll give you that.” I held my hand up when Blake smiled widely. “But I’m still frustrated as hell at the way you’ve forcibly inserted yourself into my life. You’ve got my mom in your corner somehow, but don’t think that means you’ll get away with anything. I run this office, not you. There’s a difference between showing initiative and trying to take control.”
