The fact that he’d done to her what no other man had ever managed to do, made her feel entirely too much, with just a few words and a grin, only spurred her anger. His voice reverberated through her brain. Pussy. How disgusting. Only the choicest of assholes would use that word.
She threw open the glass door to the office and stepped inside. She was done being a nice girl when it came to that brute in the garage. He was going to pay for those comments.
Chapter 4
The Perfect Revenge
Jay
It turned out that the most perfect form of revenge came much easier than Jay would have thought.
When he’d been called into the shop office that morning and fired from his job, he knew exactly who was responsible. Little Miss Plastic. No, that didn’t seem right. The Doll. That was much better. The Doll had gone in to complain. Obviously she’d overheard everything. They’d been standing by the first bay, staring out the window. He hadn’t realized the fourth door was open halfway and that their voices drifted out.
She’d had the nerve to actually walk into the office and tattle, like a five year old girl. Clearly, she’d just incriminated him. Which was fine. He didn’t want any of the guys he worked with to lose their jobs as well. He figured the shop could only afford to let one mechanic go at a time.
He’d fumed about how to pay her back the entire ride home.
Surprisingly, finding her was much easier than he thought. Fortunately, when Mr. Yes dragged him into the office to fire him, he’d been dumb enough to leave The Doll’s file open. Her name was at the top. Laya Sanders. A simple social media search brought her up right away. Turned out she was a model. Or at least, she was trying to be. She made good use of her social media accounts.
After creeping through Laya’s photos for fifteen minutes, which he told himself was strictly professional and revenge based and not at all based on his personal interest in her flawless beauty, Jay was able to figure out her agent’s name by following the link from her social media to her personal modeling website. The guy’s contact info was listed at the bottom.
Wham, bam and done. The Doll was going to pay for what she’d done.
That sounds so fucking evil.
Okay, so at best he wanted to get her alone for ten minutes to give her a piece of his mind. He wanted her to hear all about how she was an entitled, spoiled, little brat. He wanted to hurt her feelings and make her feel guilty about what she’d done. He wanted to punish her with his words.
It wasn’t until he was dialing her agent that he realized how childish he was being. Revenge was petty at best and the way he was enjoying himself was even worse.
No, the worst part of all was how much I enjoyed looking at her damn photos.
The Doll’s utter perfection irked him. It drove him to distraction, and worse yet, it made him rock fucking hard.
“Hello?” A male voice drifted over the phone and Jay started. He slammed himself back together and forced what he thought was a professional voice.
“Hello. I’d like to book Laya Sanders for a… for a shoot. In a- the- uh- warehouse district. Sorry, I haven’t exactly nailed down a location yet. I’m just inquiring as to whether she would be available for Friday or not?”
Jay waited, sure the agent would realize he was being a turd and tell him to take a damn hike. Fortunately for him, it seemed like The Doll was more hard pressed for bookings than he would have thought.
“I’m sure she would be interested in doing an industrial style shoot. I know that she has a weakness for them.”
“Perfect. A warehouse it is. I’ll secure one later today and call you back with the details.”
“Excellent, please do. We can discuss rates-”
“I’ll pay whatever she’s asking.”
“It’s five hundred dollars base and then two hundred per half an hour after that.”
“Excellent.”
“Will you be providing a wardrobe or should I give her instructions?”
“She can wear… whatever she wants. Something flowy. Black. Full length. Have her curl her hair please and leave it down. Her makeup is her choice.”
“Sounds perfect. I’ll pass the information along as soon as you confirm the location, date and time.”
Jay was stunned. He couldn’t believe just how easy it was to be a little shit. He half hoped she’d show up with some kind of body guard. Who the hell would drive herself to an old warehouse in the middle of the industrial end and show up alone? Clearly The Doll and her agent came from another world. Another far too trusting world where bad things just didn’t happen to good people.
Not that she was good. He refused to believe she was good. She was a little brat and she deserved to be put in her place.
“I’ll call you back in an hour,” Jay ground out when he realized that the agent was waiting for a response. “Name’s Anthony. Anthony Jones.” Idiot. That sounds made up. “I’m just starting out. I do mostly landscapes and urban decay, but I wanted to branch out and include some more interesting subjects for my portfolio.” He wasn’t sure where the lie came from, but it was easy. Far too easy. He always had been known for the more devious side of his mind. He’d given his poor mother a run for his money when he lived at home. She was often exasperated with the wild behavior and devious activities he and his friends got up to.
“I’ll expect your call then.”
Jay thanked the guy and hung up. At least if the agent tried to look him up, he’d be covered. He basically said he was a nobody and was just starting out. The agent wouldn’t expect him to have a website and a social media presence then. He’d covered his ass nicely and he hadn’t even planned it.
He leaned back on his leather couch, fully aware that his jeans were greasy and he was going to have to scrub the thing down later. He hadn’t even removed his boots and he hefted them up on the coffee table in a cliched version of an unemployed caricature of himself.
This is way too easy.
He closed his eyes and carefully, far too carefully, planned out what he was going to say to the woman who’d cost him his job.
Annoying enough, instead of the vengeful statements he willed his brain to formulate, an image of the woman’s face swam into his mind. He hadn’t been able to get her off his mind since he’d seen her that first morning. Her sweet face, her beautiful eyes, her long hair, her shapely body, lush curves and never ending legs combined into one torturous image that tortured his mind.
It was the real reason he’d started up the ribald conversation again that morning. He wanted to torture her right back, even if she wasn’t aware. He didn’t like that she’d stuck there, inside of him, for absolutely no reason, when no other woman had been able to achieve that feat, no matter what they’d done for him and he’d had many passionate interludes over the years.
What was it about that little princess that bothered him so much?
He’d seen a lot of flawless women. He’d run his hands over his fair share of the more beautiful feminine bodies. It had always been easy for him, getting dates. No, not dates. He didn’t do dates. Getting laid. That’s what he did.
He inhaled and his nose was flooded with the sweet scent of her perfume. The damn scent had clung to her car and unfortunately he’d experienced firsthand what a delicate scent it was when he’d delivered her car to the other shop. And when he’d brought it back.
Even the memory of that scent made him annoyingly, unfortunately, rock fucking hard. He groaned at his own helplessness. He thought about palming his cock and relieving his own misery, but he knew what images would be flashing through his brain. He couldn’t exact revenge on a woman and jack off her to at the same time. It was just fucking wrong.
He always knew it would happen one day. That one day, he’d meet a woman he couldn’t get out of his mind. That one day, someone was going to make him feel something. He’d pretty much given up hope. He thought himself immune and that gave him all the confidence in the world.
Feeling so distrac
ted and tortured was completely foreign to him. He was a stranger to feeling anything at all. He always feared that one day, he’d meet someone he couldn’t forget and the tables would be reversed on him and he’d be the one who was a mess.
He just didn’t know why it had to be her.
Chapter 5
A Deer In The Headlights
Laya
Laya had taken all kinds of jobs in the past. Some of her favorites had been industrial style shoots. She loved urban decay. There was nothing better than a good old empty warehouse or abandoned house to make for some epic photos. They looked great in her portfolio and most of the time she got to wear some pretty fantastic dresses. She liked having her hair and makeup done in wild, edgy styles.
When Mark told her about a warehouse shoot, though the pay was just her normal rate, she jumped at the chance. She was informed that the client was only doing photography. A long black dress was required and her hair and makeup were her choice. They were basically photographing the building for their own portfolio. She was secondary to the project. She could have the photos after for her own portfolio. She was making five hundred dollars for ten or fifteen minutes of work. It seemed too good to be true.
Laya’s car bumped into an abandoned parking lot, complete with tall weeds working their way through the crumbling asphalt. There was not a soul in site. The hair on the backs of her arms stood up as she took in the massive building. It was only three stories tall, but somehow it seemed so much larger. A faded sign, painted on the ancient bricks right near the top, announced that the warehouse was an old flour factory.
Most of the windows were blacked out and the rest were boarded over. She wondered what kind of light the photographer would be using, but she assumed that the guy knew what he was doing.
She’d been told to meet him at the south exit. She was hopeless with directions. Laya dug her gym bag out of her car and pulled the garment bag with her dress from the trunk. She slung the bag’s strap over her shoulder. It had been a gift for her most recent birthday from her dad. Complete with pineapples and huge, green leaves on a bold purple background, it had probably been way too expensive for the lightweight canvas that it was, but she loved it.
Laya locked her car, which drove like a dream now that the problem with the steering had been fixed. She walked slowly around the parking lot. She wasn’t exactly sure which way was south so she headed around the building, hoping to find a door and someone waiting for her. She didn’t see another car in the parking lot or anywhere near the building, which was in the industrial part of town. Because it was a Sunday afternoon, it was quiet. Almost too quiet.
She spotted a set of huge double doors, the industrial thick steel kind that could probably stop a freight train in its tracks. She headed towards them, unsure of where else to go. She passed a metal fire escape that hovered ten feet or so off the ground. Too bad. It would have made great photos if it was within reach. She wanted to do a set of photos on a metal staircase. It would have been the perfect setting.
Layla tried the first handle. It was cool to the touch, though the day was fairly warm. The door was heavy and Laya had to use all her strength to muscle it open. It gave with a squeal of creaky hinges. It obviously hadn’t been opened in a while.
The inside of the warehouse was dark and dingy. It took Laya’s eyes a minute to adjust. There was a window off to the left of the massive open space. The floor was concrete and covered in layers of dust. Tiny dust motes danced in the light that slanted down from the uncovered window. The ceiling had to be fifteen feet high at least. The part of the warehouse she’d walked into was obviously the loading bay or whatever it was termed. There were six large white doors off to the left, all in a row, obviously for large trucks to pull up.
“Hello?” Laya’s voice echoed back at her. She had an irrational moment of fear when she thought of herself being alone in the warehouse, lured to it like a trap. She should have brought Mark with her, like he’d offered, but she’d been on so many jobs by herself, it didn’t seem practical. He had a family, a wife and two young kids. She wanted him to spend his weekend with them, not chauffeuring her around like she was a little girl.
The dull sound of boots scraping over concrete sounded through the empty space. She thought the sound came from behind her and she whirled. The garment bag fell to the floor and landed with a dull thud and a poof of dust.
“You,” she hissed.
The mechanic, the rude one from the car shop, had the nerve to shrug as though it was the most natural thing in the word that he was there. Clearly he’d arranged the entire thing. It was a set up. Fear crawled up Laya’s spine.
“Me.” He shrugged again, maddeningly casual. He wore a smug grin far too well. His entire damn face was far too handsome. It was clear that he was used to women falling over him and worshiping him like a god. He had that horrible male confidence that only the sexiest of men had.
And that damn mechanic was beyond sexy. Ballsy and rude and completely too self-assured, but also far too damn good looking. She’d never seen a man with more chiseled features. Eyes that beautiful, that shone even in the dingy warehouse lighting, should have been given to a more deserving man. His thick hair, which hung around his shoulders in tousled waves would have been better cut off and donated to make wigs.
His body was the worst part of it. It was the kind of body that was easily seductive. Her senses were overwhelmed just by looking at him. He stole her breath, trapped it in a painful burst in lungs that screamed for air.
Laya gave herself a hard mental shake. She shouldn’t be standing there gaping, no matter how damn captivating the guy was. Gaping again. She was fully aware that she’d looked at him the same way the first time she’d seen him.
She remembered that she was angry and well justified in it. “You… you called my agent and asked me here?”
“I did.”
“On what pretenses? You’re not a photographer. You don’t want me here for photos.” Her eyes scanned the warehouse for an alternate exit, since he was currently blocking the one she’d come through. She didn’t think she’d be quick enough to doge past him and head for it. Odds were that he was an all-star athlete in college. If he even went to college.
“Why are you looking at the exit like you’re going to make a run for it? Do you think I asked you here to do something to you?”
She swallowed hard. “How should I know? You lied to my agent. I don’t know why you asked me here.”
“Relax, princess, I might be a rough blue collar mechanic, but I’m not a woman beater or abuser.” He actually frowned and it was clear from his sneer that he found the very idea repulsive.
Laya relaxed just a little. Her shoulders slumped in relief. “Why did you make me come here then? I don’t know you. I don’t want to know you. You had no right tricking me or calling Mark and booking me for work you didn’t intend on doing. You had better still be planning on paying. I’ll make sure that you pay. My time is valuable and so is my agent’s.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt it. I don’t doubt that you think you’re real valuable. I’m going to go out on a limb here and take a bet that you don’t need my five hundred dollars.”
“You’ve wasted my time. I want you to pay.”
“Take me to small claims court then. I’m not paying. I had something I wanted to say and you need to hear it in person.”
Laya slowly crossed her arms over her chest. She shot the guy a scathing look. “Say what you have to say then, so I can get back to my day.”
“I’ll start with my name. I’m Jay. I’ve worked at that shop for years. You got me fired and I don’t appreciate it.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t appreciate you and those other guys talking about me like I’m some piece of meat for you to tear apart. I haven’t heard anyone talk about another person like that before in my life. It was rude and it was wrong. It was completely unprofessional. I just repeated what I heard when I picked up my keys. You got yourself fired, as far as I’m
concerned.”
That took the wind out of his sails for a minute. Jay stared back at her, unblinking for a moment, like he couldn’t believe she’d dared to stand up for herself.
“I…”
“Do you have something else to say or are you just going to stand there gaping at me? Can I go now that you’ve said your piece, pathetic as it was?”
She could tell that she’d struck a chord. Jay’s eyes darkened dangerously. He stepped closer, cutting off her air supply as he entered her personal space. He smelled good, like shop, like cars, like male skin and hard work and illicit passion. He hadn’t bothered to bathe in cologne or even splash some on before he’d come to meet her at the warehouse. Something primitive inside of herself reacted sharply and she hated whatever elemental nerve endings were attracted to the raw maleness of a man she wanted to detest.
“I think the real reason you went and complained about me, me and no one else, was that you couldn’t handle the truth about what you saw. About what you felt.”
Laya stumbled back a step. “What are you talking about?” She laughed sharply, annoyed at how off kilter she was. A sharp stabbing pain ripped through her chest and her throat closed off. It took her a minute before she could even force down a swallow.
Jay didn’t back up. That dangerous look never left his eyes. His face darkened and Laya realized he was looking at her the way an animal looked at the prey it was about to hunt down and devour. She should have stepped back, retreated, distanced herself, made a break for whatever exit there might be. Instead she stayed rooted to the floor, her black high heels scuffed in dust, her legs like jelly, her stomach doing cartwheels, heart beating the back of her ribs into a bruised mess. Now she knew what that poor damn deer in the headlights felt like. She knew she was about to be run down and she could do absolutely nothing at all to save herself.
Chapter 6
The Pedestal
Forbidden Soulmates_A Steamy Hot Revenge Romance Page 3
