by DD Prince
I tried to be humble about the compliments. I didn’t talk bad about my former coworkers. Mr. C. and I talked some more about the direction that he wanted to take things in, to capitalize on my methods at my old office to help Carmichael take our online presence to the next level.
I tried to fake a great mood for the lunch hour, but truth be told, I was annoyed about the Aiden situation, upset that my former coworkers were about to be unemployed. Mr. Carmichael said I should keep that quiet since they hadn’t started swinging the axe yet. He actually said that, with a smile, as if it wasn’t absolutely cruel. I was disappointed in my new CEO’s callousness but tried not to show it.
It didn’t help when Sonia, a coworker back in Buffalo posted on my Facebook page that she hopes I’m having a great day and then put a sad face and said that the office won’t be the same without me.
Talk about feeling guilty!
Speaking of Facebook, there was a message there from Steph in my inbox. I’m not ready to read that yet. I saw the first two lines.
“I have some explaining to do and I hope you’ll give me a chance to do that …”
Nope. Not today, bitch.
Moral of that story? If you have a friend who seems like your bestie, but she has something nasty to say about absolutely everyone in the world, don’t kid yourself into thinking she has nothing bad to say about you.
On the ride back to the office from the restaurant, I changed my profile picture to a picture of my coral-painted toes covered in sand at the beach on Sunday and got 37 likes and a bunch of Where are you? type comments. I didn’t answer. Yet.
I was happy when lunch was over and looked forward to getting back to my desk, so I could rock my job. I didn’t deal with Aiden the rest of the day. His office was empty all afternoon.
After work, Ally and I took our cab with a different driver this time, back to the apartment building, which had a different lobby guard this time, and both pooped from our first day, said bye on the elevator when she got out first. I think she picked up on my mood and she was subdued for my benefit.
“If you feel like hanging out later, text me,” she said.
“Gonna catch a wee nap,” I said, with a yawn.
“Me, too,” she said and waved bye as she left the elevator.
I pass out two minutes after changing into sleeping shorts and a tank top, backwards diving into my bed.
***
There’s pounding on the door. It’s dark in my bedroom. I guess my nap was a long one.
I groggily roll out of the bed, thinking it’s my bedroom door, but then I realize it’s the front door. I throw on my robe and tie it. The knocking gets louder. More insistent. I grab my phone in case I need to call 9-1-1.
I glance at my screen as I hurry to the door and see it’s 1:33 AM. I slept right through the evening. Didn’t even have dinner. My stomach rumbles as if agreeing with my thought.
I flick a light on and look out the door’s peep hole.
Aiden is standing there.
I twist the lock and open the door and realize he was using the door to hold himself up. He falls forward and grabs for me and we both go to the floor, but he gasps and gets his hand under my head to cushion my fall. He’s on top of me. He winces.
“Sorry, baby,” he says huskily, and I’m momentarily stunned. Our eyes meet.
His suit is rumpled. His eyes are bloodshot. He reeks of booze.
“Hey Roomie,” he says huskily and leans forward, lifting his hand out from under the back of my head and bracing on his forearms, which are on either side of my face.
“What are you doing?” I demand.
“Losssss my keyssss,” he slurs. He reaches for my hair and he’s playing with my curls. And he looks deep into my eyes.
“Get off me,” I order.
“Hmpf. Good idea.” He grinds against me, and holy crap, he’s got an erection.
And I’m furious.
I shove, hard, and he topples over. I scoot and scamper until I’m on my feet. He’s sitting on the floor, looking up at me, looking disoriented.
“What’s the matter, Curly Sue?” He gets to his knees and starts to crawl toward me.
“You’re drunk; go sleep it off, Aiden.”
“We both know you wanna fuck me,” he says, matter of factly, head tilted, a grin on his face.
I scoff.
“You can’t deny there’s sexual tension…” He lets that hang.
“Go to bed, Aiden.” And I turn to walk away, because I’m not engaging in an asinine conversation with a drunk guy.
He grabs my ankle and I tumble and fall and somehow, he’s moved so that I land right on him. He rolls with me and pins me to the rug.
“Hey!” I protest.
“I like the way you say my name. Wanna see if I can make ya moan it?” He tilts his head again.
“Stop.”
“Scream it?”
“Aiden!”
“Both.” He gives me a wide smile.
“Let go.”
He lets go of me.
“I’m going to bed.” I crawl away and get up.
“Good idea. I’m a comin’ too.”
I spin back round and glare at him. “You touch my door, you’ll lose your fingers.”
His smile widens. “You want me. You do. Everyone wants to fuck me.” He shrugs and heads to the kitchen and opens a cupboard above the fridge and yanks out a nearly empty bottle of Jim Beam and then turns to me.
“Carly,” he calls out. I’m already on the move, heading back to my room.
Ouch. My knee stings. I look down. Rugburn!
“What?” I snap, rubbing my knee.
“Maybe I should rachet that sexual tension up a few notches. See how you handle it.”
I roll my eyes. “You’ve got an ego the size of Texas, Aiden Carmichael.”
He stares dead into my eyes and manages to pin me to the spot. He wets his lower lip with his tongue and then skims that lip with his top teeth. It’s as if he’s tuned in sharply to staring deeper into my eyes.
If I weren’t so exhausted and flustered, and if I didn’t already hate him, I’d probably melt. Instead, I give him a sour look, the left side of my upper lip going up in my signature Billy Idol expression, a look that does a great job of expressing my distaste.
But, it doesn’t work.
His lips part and his chest moves up in an inhale and then as he slowly exhales, it’s like he’s blowing out sex potion.
Before I give anything away, I spin around and storm to my room.
I hear him laughing behind me.
10
AIDEN
She wants me.
She wants me, and she can practically taste me, but she’s denying it. That’s all right, though; I like a challenge. I don’t get to indulge in this sorta challenge too often, so this should be fun. Though… most bitches cave at the first hurdle. I can use the distraction from the bullshit I’m dealing with right now by challenging her both here and at the office.
A couple days and she’ll be cleaning this apartment without complaint. She’ll cook extra and leave it for me, glad I’m eating her food. I’d throw down a bet she’ll wind up doing my laundry before this game is done and practically drooling to be fuckin’ eating me. And I’ll put her in her place at the office. Firmly way under me on the totem pole and wanting to be under me any place she can be under me.
But first, sleep. I am really fucking drunk. And I’m good at this game even drunk. I shoot to kill, and I never lose.
When I sober up, watch out Carly Adler with the great rack, sweet ass (of which I’ll enjoy taking a bite), and cute as fuck sass.
All that’s gonna be mine. For an hour or three.
I’m gonna fuck her so hard, she’s gonna forget her name. But, she won’t forget mine, not ever. Fuckin’ love the sassy way she says my name when she’s annoyed with me.
I undress, lie on my stomach, reach under and then grab my satin sheet and wrap it around my cock. And then I fuck my
fist, envisioning that it’s her silky heat that’s around me instead.
11
CARLY
Coffee. Need coffee. I slept from the time I got home yesterday until my alarm this morning, other than the brief unpleasant encounter with him. And I still feel like I need more sleep. I stumble to the coffee pot.
I drop the coffee pod into the single-serve machine and hit the button, but as I’m fitting my mug underneath, I feel something staticky on the back of my neck.
“Hey.”
I hear this as I feel warm breath by my ear, from a deep husky voice, while being assaulted by a manly scent. Earthy. Manly. Musk. Woodsy. And dark chocolate. So utterly masculine it is literally an assault on my senses. All of them.
I freeze.
I’m standing here in my tiny lowrider baby blue sleep shorts and matching crop top racerback tank, my hair a wild and curly mess, sleep most likely crusting the corners of my eyes, with morning breath, as I just needed that first fortifying sip more than air, and now this?
He’s crowding me from behind. I see a bare muscled and corded arm reach up into the cupboard to my right for a coffee mug. His other hand is resting on the counter on my left, like… two inches from my hip.
Nope, not two inches. His thumb stretches out and grazes my exposed hip bone while the rest of his fingers continue to rest on the edge of the marble counter.
I swallow hard and fight the tingles, thinning my lips in anger as the machine finishes gurgling that nectar of the gods into my mug.
“Uh…you wanna step back?” I grind out, shoulders pulled up to my ears, my hands up in the air defensively, but ready to ball into fists.
I feel a breeze as he does. I grab my cup and turn around, ready to melt him into a pile of steaming goo with laser beams shooting from my eyes, but he’s standing there in just a white fluffy towel and it’s low, and I mean low, on his hips. Any lower and I’d see if X marks the spot where that treasure trail leads.
His hair is wet, messy, still dripping, in fact. Oh God---so is his tanned and muscled chest. There are droplets of water all over those pecs. My mouth is dry as my eyes land on his chest. I put my cup to my mouth, my left fuckoff finger and thumb pinch my nose as I move away, and I take the opportunity to rub the corners of my eyes. Yep, eye crust. Great.
I hear him chuckle as the coffee machine starts making noise again. I give him the finger behind his back. But as I do, he glances over his shoulder and spots me, then barks out laughter.
I’m outta there. Shower time. Maybe a cold one.
God, I hope he didn’t see that my nipples are hard. I glance down. Not like he could miss it.
That’s it, Carly! No more wandering out of your room in a state of semi-undress. No more seeing me without full armor on. Dressed, hair done, makeup on. Zero weakness.
New Rule, rule #4:
Never Show Weakness to a potential enemy.
Re-cap:
Don’t be a doormat.
Forgive and Forget are now F-words.
Not everyone is pure of heart. Be suspicious of everybody.
Never show weakness to a potential enemy. (See rule 3)
***
He’s not here now that I’m armored up and ready to take on the day, so I resist the urge to stomp my feet and instead I grab some fruit and granola bars and stuff them in my bag, remembering that yesterday’s sandwich is still in the fridge at work since I went out to lunch with Mr. Carmichael.
I get downstairs to the lobby and Aiden is standing there laughing with Ally when I get off the elevator.
His head is thrown back and his shoulders are shaking, he’s laughing so hard and Ally is in her glory, smiling at him with stars in her eyes, clearly happy that she said something to get him to that state.
He’s wearing a grey suit and a frigging Christian Grey tie. Yep. It looks exactly like that tie. My eyes land on the tie and my mouth goes dry.
He smirks. Like he knows I recognize it.
Such an asshole.
“Mornin’ Car,” Ally says and hugs me like she hasn’t seen me in ages.
I hug her back.
“Your roommate is also our road mate today. Aiden lost his keys last night so he’s cabbin’ it with us. You look gorgeous today!”
I give her a tight smile. “Thanks, you too.” Today, she’s in white tights with pink polka dots and a pink tunic. She’s wearing powder blue suede high-heeled boots and her pixie pink hair looks sex-mussed with blue butterfly barrettes in it. She has purple lipstick on and her nails are painted the same blue as her shoes.
She looks at me quizzically.
I look to Aiden and he’s standing there still smirking.
Smirking. Not apologetic about waking me the night before, about being inappropriate with me. No. He was also inappropriate with me this morning, and now he’s absolutely trying to toy with me with that smirk.
“That color does great things for you,” Ally says, and we all look toward the door, seeing the taxi pull up. Yep, same guy as the last two morning cabs.
I’m wearing black with a touch of coral. I now own a whole lot of this color. Today it’s a black and coral wrap dress with just a bit of a ruffle and I’m wearing nude pumps. My hair is up in a bun with tendrils framing my face, and I have a shimmery wet peach lip gloss that I just bought. I think makes my lips look great. I don’t have a big ego, but when Layla the stylist put it on me, she made this big o-face and told me it was my magic lip-gloss.
“Wear this, girl, and you can conquer the free world. Trust what Layla is tellin’ you. She won’t steer you wrong.”
Layla spoke of her self in third person a lot. But, she is fantastic for my self-confidence. I wished I could’ve brought her to San Diego with me.
I half-regretted all the money I spent upgrading my wardrobe for the big move after my sister maxed out my credit card, but I suddenly feel like it was a very worthwhile investment to have to live hand-to-mouth when I see Aiden’s eyes land on my mouth as we make our way to the revolving door.
Wait. I shouldn’t be thinking this way. I shouldn’t be thinking it’s good that he’s objectifying me. I’m here to further my career. Re-boot what was a mess of a life. That’s it, for the moment. And even if I was interested in pursuing a guy, it wouldn’t be this alphahole jerk I wanted to impress.
Then again, if I throw him off his game, maybe he won’t make me feel like I’m inferior due to his apparent charisma and Texas-sized ego.
Ally gets into the carousel first, and instead of getting the next one to myself, Aiden gets in the same one with me, crowding me. By the time we get outside, I feel goosebumps on the back of my neck and all up and down my arms, despite the fact that my face is heating with anger. He moves faster than me to open the back door for Ally, who climbs in. His thumb grazes my upper arm, making me startle. He’s felt those goosebumps and intentionally pointed them out. Rat bastard.
And now he’s still holding the door, still crowding me, and I have to climb into the back seat of the cab in a dress.
I bend to do so and yikes… my ass brushes him. I’m not sure where on him, but I can guess.
I scoot in beside Ally and her face is alight with amusement. I shoot her a glare and she busts up laughing. Her eyes bounce between me and Aiden, who is now shutting the door, a weird look on his face.
I glare at him.
He swallows, eyes on my lips, then gives his head a shake. “What’s your name, cabbie?” He directs the question forward, but his eyes are still on me.
“I am Ash,” our usual driver replies in an accent I can’t place. “You work with these girls?”
“Mornin’ Ash. I do. I’m Aiden, and since you already know Carly and Ally, here, I’m guessin’ you know where to take us?”
“Yes, sir. I do know.”
“Then, take us to work, if you please.” He waves his hand.
The cab pulls away.
I try to scoot over, closer to Ally, but this is one of those small hybrid cars and there’s no
t really enough room for the three of us to be comfortable in the back, especially with him being so tall. Aiden puts his arm around the back of the seat, likely for space, but it puts his chest at almost my cheek and his body is plastered to the side of me.
His cologne or bodywash or aftershave (or combination of the three) is heady.
“Wow, Bossman. Hope this isn’t an HR violation, but your cologne is bomb,” Ally says, eyes big and on him. “It smells like… like…” she gives her head a shake at a loss for words.
Sex potion is what comes to my mind, but no way am I saying that aloud.
“Good. It smells good. Sex and chocolate. Good-God-good.” Ally chuckles.
Aiden laughs with her and then it melts away and his face scrunches up. “But not everything smells good. What’s that smell in here?”
The cab smells terrible. It wasn’t as bad as the day I’d arrived from the airport, but now that the Aiden Sex Potion aroma has settled, there’s also that thick onion, garlic, and body odor combination. And there’s another nuance to it, too. Like rotting meat.
“Open the front windows, will ya, Ash, my man?” Aiden calls out after he and Ally both open their windows.
“Feel free to bury your faces right here, ladies; let me mask that smell for ya,” he offers.
“Damn, you’re too far away,” Ally grumbles, flirtily. “Guess I’ll have to bury my face in Carly.” She leans in teasingly and rubs her cheek, like a cat, along my arm.
“Ooh, that’s what I’m talkin’ about,” Aiden’s face lights up.
I’m staring straight ahead, jaw tight, beyond annoyed.
“This feels like an HR skit in an anti-workplace-harassment video,” I mumble.
“Isn’t it great?” Ally retorts, eyes dancing with mirth.
