by May Sage
“You know, I was thinking,” Wren said, gesturing them to follow him towards his open plan kitchen. “I should probably pay you as well as letting you stay. Now I look, it does seem a little worse for wear.”
Lucy could think of a few other ways to put it.
“No way,” Cali shook her head, while Lucy nodded.
Hell, yes, she needed to be paid for that dealing with that major shitstorm. Loads.
“That place will look like a castle when it’s clean. I couldn’t live here for less than ten thousand a month.”
“The rent estimate was at twenty-five actually,” the man corrected, so matter-of-fact he didn’t sound like a prick.
“Exactly. And after a couple of days of work, it will look awesome again.”
The man held up a bottle of wine, and at Lucy’s nod, he got a brand-new glass out of a box and served her.
“Ah,” he said, “but you forget one aspect of this issue. I’ll still live here. I’m capable of putting this place back in its original state in a week, tops. Trust me, you’ll earn your bread.”
“Take the deal,” Lucy begged her, but the stubborn girl was still shaking her head.
“No. If no money exchanges hands, then I can relax, and feel at home. If you pay me… you’ll be the boss. I can’t live with my boss.”
The younger woman was definitely smart.
Wren lifted his gaze from the glass he was pouring, and his deep blue eyes rested on Cali a little longer than necessary before he pushed a glass her way.
“Right. So, here’s the deal. We put a shopping list on the breakfast bar, you add whatever you need to it, my personal shopper gets it once a week. No money involved. But the household expenses and groceries are on me. Maybe I’ll feel less guilty about making you pick up my shit, then.”
The man looked at her until the girl just squirm and caved.
Ohhh, he was good, and Lucy approved. He just wanted to give her a break without making it seem like a favor - and it had worked, although Cali probably read through it.
Suddenly, Lucy felt a little uncomfortable. Like a third wheel at a first date. There was… something there. On both sides.
“Okay,” she said, downing her glass as quickly as she could. “Time to go.”
Trick
“How did it go?”
He’d expected her usual reluctant answers, with a shrug for good measure, but to his surprise, Lucy did it. What he’d been waiting for thirteen days - or maybe, six years. She smiled. No, she positively beamed at him.
“Very well. I mean, I have no idea of how a human being can get a house in that state without the help of a horde of pigs, but Cali was happy about it, I think. Makes her feel like she’s earned her keep. And your friend was really sweet.”
Trick nodded, while telling himself that the flare of annoyance coloring his thoughts was not jealousy.
No way. He didn’t do the jealous thing. He just didn’t.
“He’s rather handsome, too. How old is he?”
The pen in Trick’s hand snapped under his thumb, and his jaw set. Right. So, considering the fact that he was currently asking himself how hard it could be to hire a hitman, he had to assume that the emotion making him want to plot the murder of one of his friends was jealousy.
“A couple of years younger than me,” he replied.
“Hm. My age,” she mused.
Then, the woman put him out of his misery, explaining, “I may be wrong but I think I’ve seen a spark between him and Cali. The last thing she needs is another guy, but well - I think there’s some possibility there.”
His entire body relaxed, and he stopped running the names of the dodgy people he knew. No need to make Wren disappear.
Hell, if that woman wasn’t driving him to madness. Especially considering that she didn’t even fancy him!
When would he get it through his thick skull and move on?
“Playing matchmaker?” he teased, and Lucy just stuck her tongue out.
When had that happened? She was… friendly. For a few seconds, anyway. Shortly after, the smile disappeared from her lips, as though she’d suddenly recalled that she wasn’t supposed to like him. And he’d lost her: she was back to typing furiously on her damn laptop.
Damn her, but she was really going to drive him crazy. Seriously. He'd always found her attractive, but getting to know her had taken it to a brand-new level.
Lucy wore her most conservative suit, the dark gray pinstripe skirt and blazer did nothing to hide her perfect figure; because that visual wasn’t enough, she soon pulled a lollipop out of her bag, and started to suck on it.
Dammit. He shifted to adjust himself, willing his cock to go down, completely unsuccessfully.
Trick wasn't sure what he had expected, but not that; not a serious, talented, respected employee coming up with a solution fractions of a second after a problem presented itself. In the past, his guys had always come to him with the slightest issue; within two days, they had learned to go to Lucy instead, which allowed him to just do his job much quicker, and more efficiently than ever. If he managed to find himself an assistant half as efficient as Lucy - or better, yet, permanently steal her from Carter - he might just be able to take a holiday for the first time in eight years.
She was exactly what he needed, and he kind of felt a little bit ashamed about assuming that she wouldn't be. Carter wouldn't have kept her that long if she hadn't been awesome. He knew his best friend too well to doubt that, yet her flirtiness, her ready smile, and her sexy little body had somehow convinced him of the opposite.
Trick had been looking at her so intensely he didn't even see the man entering his floor, until he entered his field of vision.
Nathaniel Knightley. Of course, Trick was familiar, and normally friendly with the man; they were business partners - Knightley had recently inherited the business that built some of their toys, and as such they probably saw each other once a week or so. Normally, Trick enjoyed his company. Today, he would have gladly punched the guy in the throat.
Jesus! What was it with the murderous tendencies? That really wasn’t like him.
"Good morning, Patrick," the man said, his annoyingly handsome smile directed towards Lucy, not even bothering to glance his way. "I come to kidnap your lovely assistant for lunch."
What the… Trick glared at Lucy, as she shot the man her potent pout. Wasn’t the guy married? According to the notes she’d transferred in any case.
“Can’t do today, Nate. Sorry, I forgot to text. I skipped yesterday, so I have loads of work to catch up on.”
“Oh, well. See you next week, then?”
“Sure.”
What the… They made it sound like something normal; something they did on a regular basis. Trick was seeing red, angry at her, him, and the entire fucking world.
He’d lost his mind, but the sliver of sense left in him made him grab Lucy by the elbow, and drag her out down the corridor, in front of two dozen of startled employees. He didn’t care what they thought.
“What the hell was that!”
He managed not to yell, but his tone had an edge, dark, almost threatening.
“I could ask the same, you freaking psycho,” she shot back, pulling her arm away.
“He’s a partner. And he’s married, for crying out loud. Whatever’s going on there, stop it now.”
The woman just laughed, shaking her head in disbelief.
“Do you have any idea what consequence your little affair could have if it got out? For you? For Harris Toys?”
Comprehension lit her features, and Lucy just outright laughed at him.
“Alright. So, you’re an asshole, but hey, you get a pass for caring about the company,” she told him. “Firstly, I’m not, and will never be desperate enough to go for a taken man. Secondly, Nate’s wife and I are organizing a charity event sponsored by Harris Toys. Hence why I meet her every Wednesday morning. You know what they say about assuming…”
She was probably about to tell h
im all about it, but he interrupted her, by crushing his lips against hers. He just couldn’t help himself.
Fuck. She was so soft, smelled so fucking good, and feeling her body against his as he pulled her to him was worth the punch, the lawsuit, and the kick in the nuts he was about to receive.
So, worth it.
This was his train of thoughts when she pushed up on her tiptoes, and wrapped her arms around his neck to deepen their kiss.
Lucy
She wasn't sure what just happened. One second, he was calling her a home-wrecker, and the next he was pinning her against the wall, brushing his hard everything against her, and taking her mouth like his life depended on it.
Madness. This was pure and utter madness. Worse yet, although she couldn't find anything close to justification explaining why, there she was, her hands finding their way from his hard back, to his large shoulders, feeling all his muscle with the touch; her fingers, without any sort of volition on her part, crawled their way to his thick hair, and pulled in closer, refusing to let go.
Fuck. She felt it down to her fingertips, everything about her body was awakened, attuned to his. Somewhere in the back of her mind, the little girl was screaming “I'm kissing Patrick Johnson!” While another one, forbidding and astonished, was actually wondering why the hell she was kissing Patrick fucking Johnson.
She shut them both up, throwing caution, reason, and sense out the window, up until the sound of footsteps approaching made them both come back to reality.
Trick sighed against her lips, his reluctance evident, as he lifted his head away from hers, and took a step back.
Her brain consented to function the moment their body disconnected; and now that she was actually thinking, she was pissed. Mainly pissed at herself, but hey, she'd never been much into self-flagellation, so might as well lash out at him.
“What the fuck do you think you're doing?”
For a split second, he seemed confused but then, an infuriatingly gorgeous easy smile lifted the corner of his lips, and he was replying, “Whatever that was, I'm pretty sure we were doing together, Lucinda.”
Damn him, but the cocky bastard was right. He might have started it out of the blue, but she'd been wonderfully willing participant.
“Let me get one thing straight,” she said, eyes narrowed, hands on her hips. “I'm not one of your submissive Barbie clones. If I wanted you, I would have let it be known by now.”
Liar, liar, pants on fire.
The bastard just laughed, before dipping his head low, close to her neck. His warm breath caused havoc in her self-control.
“I guess you just did let me know,” he whispered, before kissing her Just. There.
Holy…
It wasn’t technically her fault. No judge, given all the previously stated evidence, would have found her guilty for grabbing him by the tie, and pulling him in the small, dark stationary cupboard no one used.
Hopefully. Maybe.
“Alright,” she said casually. “I guess I have an itch you could help with.”
This was good. This was the best thing that could have happened. A quick fuck in a dark, semi-public venue would satisfy her curiosity once and for all; then, she could just move on from the annoying crush she hadn’t quite outgrown yet.
Because she wasn’t the kind of girl who liked to be naughty in the dark, she turned the lights on, before slowly sliding her pantyhose down her legs, turning around, and bending down, hands on the envelop shelf.
“Do your worst.”
Oh god. She knew she was rocking the casual vibe but never had she felt as fucking wet; everything about this blew her mind. An employee could walk in at any time. Or hear them. Or…
She expected him to push his skirt out of the way and shove his cock inside her - god knew she was ready for it. Their verbal sparring, the tension between them beat any foreplay, but instead of a hard member against her folds, there was a wet, skillful tongue lapping at her, as his hands dug into her hips, keeping her in place.
Oh fuck…
“Stay quiet, you naughty girl,” he told her as she moaned.
Fuck. Employees a few steps away…
“You’re so fucking wet, Lucinda.”
“Ahhhh…” his finger had joined the party, curving inside her as the tip of his tongue teased her clit, and in twenty seconds flat, the man was pushing against the mysterious spot only B.O.B seemed to find.
“That’s it, Lucinda. Come for me.”
His mouth got too busy to talk, sucking, licking, biting, and another finger joined the first. Shit. Shit. Shiiiit.
That hadn’t been part of the plan. He was supposed to be bad at this, or even average. Average would have been a blessing. Making her come without even pulling his cock out? In under five minutes? No. Nuh-uh. That was not going to help. But there she was, coming on his tongue, so hard she was trembling, and crying in relief and frustration.
She turned her head to face him. The bastard had a self-satisfied smile on this face, the kind she wanted to slap. Or kiss - one of the two.
Or, as usual; both.
Trick
Lucy had avoided him for days, successfully managing to send him away any time she was in the office - but her plan backfired today. He’d said that as his lunch was with Nathaniel, and she was friendly with his wife, it was only logical that she’d accompany him, and Lucy didn’t find anything to say about it.
Every time she been forced to look this way since their little moment, she glared, making her feeling about it quite obvious, but right now, sitting beside a business partner, she couldn't act unprofessionally and she damn well knew it. Trick had a hard time keeping his face straight, when she shot him her best “I wish my eyes had a Superman laser option” smile.
She was affected by him; she had hidden it well, and frankly he hadn't known for sure, even as he kissed her. He done it stupidly, completely thoughtlessly, not even acknowledging the fact that it might have cost him his career if she slapped a lawsuit on him for harassment, and the second his brain had caught up with his body, he’d tensed, wondering what the hell just happened. But then, she was touching him, opening her mouth up to him, holding him close. She was pulling him in a room and asking to be fucked.
Hell, he should have done it. Yet, at the same time, he couldn’t - taking her then might have been the end. Right now, she ran away but she was still intrigued, despite herself.
Soon, he promised his cock, which had barely gone down since that day.
Truth was, Lucy liked him. She may not be keen on his character, his actions, or perhaps his political views - he had no clue what he had done to displease her - but at the most basic level, where it mattered, she liked him. Her body responded to his, their pheromones called to each other; beyond human thoughts or emotions, they recognized each other's potential mate.
Well, damn if that was unexpected, inconvenient, and inconsiderate, too. He wasn’t supposed to have a thing for Lucinda Warner. His prim and proper mother would never approve, there was no doubt of it.
Lucy was bold, confident, and straightforward, qualities he valued, because they were refreshing to him; qualities that didn’t belong at a charity fundraiser or whatever his mother and her friends liked to do in their spare time.
Admiring her from afar had been one thing when it believed the attraction to be one-sided, but now he knew it wasn’t, it wouldn't work. He’d need more.
“Patrick Johnson?”
Oh fuck.
Trick was man enough to admit it: he shivered. His eyes bulged, and he prayed that the recognizable voice had just been a fragment of his imagination. She wasn't really here. Please, please, let her not be here.
“Oh, Patrick…” a sweet, baby like voice cooed, and he felt sick when the tall, ultra-thin, heavily made up girl who’d gone under the scalpel ten times too many since their last encounter walked into his field of vision.
Veronica Davis. The reason why he and his brother had returned to New York City.
&nb
sp; They’d grown up here, but after their father’s death, their mother moved back to Los Angeles, the city where she’d made it in her youth, and they’d followed her.
Finn had liked LA; as the pretty boy, the jock of the family, he’d fitted in perfectly. But then, Veronica had happened.
Their mother had, of course, found her perfectly acceptable and encouraged Trick to date her; he hadn’t seen anything wrong about it; she’d been attractive, if a little too superficial for his liking, and had seemed nice enough at first.
It didn’t take long to realize that she was anything but. Not only had she stalked Trick - and threatened him when he’d put a stop to it - but she’d also been hell bent in her attempts to ruin Anna Bullen, his brother’s best friend.
Anna practically lived with them; somehow, although she was the very opposite of everything his mother valued, she had tolerated Anna, and the kid didn’t have the best home.
Veronica’s delusional mind had imagined that the girl and Trick had some sort of an affair behind her back, and she’d proceeded to destroy her reputation.
When they’d figured out what was happening, Finn got Anna to pack her bags up and quickly took her to the other coast, away from the drama. Trick wasn’t quite sure why he’d ended up with them on the plane, but he’d transferred his credit to NYU, met Carter there, and the rest was history.
This particular trip down memory lane was unwelcome; he didn’t regret leaving California, but every detail about Veronica’s antics made him wince. Plus, despite the humongous bullets packed under her bra and the endless legs, the girl had been completely dull in the sack. Screaming, with her unbearable fake shrieks, so bad he rarely came.
Holy hell. The bitch was back.
Lucy
She’d enjoyed it at first, but that was it. Enough was enough. That tart was embarrassing them, and by extension, harming Harris Toys in front of an influential businessman. Nathaniel Knightley might be a friend of Carter’s, but that didn’t mean that they could pass as fools in front of him.
