“To … us?” I ask, throwing the second heel into the back. I manage to nail my purse with it, knocking the entire thing over and spilling the condoms that have been in there since last Saturday. They spill onto the pavement along with a few tubes of lip gloss and a mini flashlight. I roll my eyes and kneel down to start picking everything up. Fucking Lex. I can't help but wonder which one of these condoms was the one he touched with his fingers. Arrogant prick. Asking me if I tucked these in here for him. Pathetic. I wonder if – since Lex ruined my last outing – tonight's a good time to let loose and go dancing.
“Yeah. To us. Our family.” He sighs, and I sense the polyamorous speech is rapidly approaching. I snatch a white tube of Winter Snuggles glossy lip balm and shove it back in my purse.
“Okay, to the family. I think I get it. So … Maggie wants to marry all five of you? How does that work, legally speaking?” Craig sighs again, and I know I'm still not 'getting it'. Sometimes my family confuses me.
“It doesn't. We're not going to do anything legally, just spiritually. We still want to have a wedding and all that, but we're not filling out paperwork.”
“Maybe you should go down and get a group checking account?” It's a joke, but Craig doesn't find it funny. Apparently it's okay for him to rip on me for my living room condom stash, but God forbid I jest about this.
“We're having a family dinner at Maggie's place, and you're invited. That's why I'm calling. Instead of poker night at your place this Friday, we want to invite you over for a get-together.”
“Just me and the moms?” I ask, fishing out a condom from underneath the car. I think I finally got them all. I stand up.
“No, you and the moms and everybody else's families. Well, those that are okay with our relationship as it stands. There's not going to be a ton of people there, just whoever we're each closest with.” I touch a hand to my chest as I set my purse back on the seat.
“Ah, and you thought to invite me, Craig. I'm touched.”
“Go to hell, Oli,” he says, but at least he sounds like he's smiling when he says it.
“I guess congratulations are in order,” I tell him, trying to stay positive. A family dinner? With the collective families of six different people, all of whom will either be judgmental and angry at the unconventional lifestyle their family member is living, or more than likely a special breed of strange. This ought to be an interesting gathering of humanity.
“Thanks, Oli,” Craig says as I move to shut the back door and spy one last condom lying on the cement near my back tire. “I'll text you the address. Be there no later than eight, and bring Lex as your date if you want.” I open my mouth to argue, but Craig's already hung up.
I sigh and move my phone away from my ear when it starts ringing again.
Once glance at the caller ID shows a local number, but no name. It could be anyone: Lara Caliper, my dentist, Lex Lyndon. A shiver travels down my spine and I neglect to answer it. If he was serious about following my orders and shit, then great for him. I only told him to call me, so I could see if my words had any effect on him. I never intended to answer. The jerk can leave a voicemail for all I care.
I hear footsteps in the parking garage, but I don't pay them any attention.
I tuck the phone away in my purse and kneel down to grab the condom.
Only there's already somebody reaching for it. My fingers brush his and a tingle of fire cuts through my hand and drives straight into my heart. I swallow hard, the sound of my phone buzzing in the background, and look up to see Lex with his cell next to his ear.
“You said to call,” he tells me as I release my hold on the condom and let him pick it up, rising to my feet before he unfolds and towers over me. Bleh. I hate that he even gets to 'tower'. Not fair. I wish I was still wearing my heels. Doesn't matter though; I'm still confident I could beat him in a staring match. I watch as he pulls his phone away and drops it in the pocket of his slacks. There's still a slight stain of blood at the corner of his lip, and I almost open my mouth to apologize to him.
Almost.
“Yeah, after you did some self-reflection,” I tell him, putting a hand on my hip and squeezing my lips tight. The scent of his cologne burns my nose – but in a good way. I take a deep breath of it. Even though we just had another fucking fight, my vagina doesn't care. She's still interested, and I'm still fighting with her. My heartbeat decides to side with my lady parts and thumps painfully in my chest. I feel a romantic movie moment coming on.
“You told me to decide what it was that I wanted in life.”
I hold up a finger.
“And why you're such a bully. Don't forget that part.”
“And so I did. I sat down in my chair, and it only took me a couple of minutes to figure it out.”
I glare at Lex and take a step back, not because I'm afraid of him or anything, but because I hate the fact that I have a lady boner for the guy. When we fight, we tend to get in each other's faces, and every single time it happens, I wonder if I'm going to slap him and then leap on him, wrap my arms around his waist and fuck the shit out of him.
“Don't say you, Lex. If you say you then I swear to God, I will climb in that car and drive over your feet to get out of here.” I point at my Lexus, silently cursing myself for buying it. If I hadn't, I wouldn't need a job like this to make the payment. I should sell it back to the dealer, buy something I can afford in cash. Might have to now that I've decided to quit/been fired for the thirtieth time since last week.
“You?” he asks, raising one perfect brow.
“Yeah. Don't say: I thought about what I wanted in life and I've decided it's you, Olivia. I want you.” I imitate Lex's voice, a rumbly purr that sounds a hell of a lot better when he does it. I sniff and cross my arms over my chest with a sigh.
“That's not what I was going to say, but I'm flattered you'd think that.” Lex smirks at me and the move is infuriating. He reaches out to hand me the condom, but I refuse to take it.
“Keep it. Use it. It's all yours now.” I smile meanly back at him, hating how much I enjoy the stark contrast of his sharp slacks and crisp shirt against the craggy pillars of concrete that line the parking garage. “Consider it a parting gift from yours truly.”
“Don't you want to hear what it is I want?”
“I'd rather hear why you think you're such a bully, Lex. Answer me that question first. If I like your answer, I'll let you tell me the rest.” He purses his lips at me and narrows his eyes, dropping the condom by his side. But, lo and behold, he really does listen. Just barely, but he does. Asshole.
“It's what I'm used to. I get what I want, when I want it. I'm in control of everything and everyone around me.” He pauses, and I have to bite my tongue to keep from interjecting with what about Daddy Dearest? Maybe Lex doesn't realize the extent to which his father and grandfather really do control him. If he's so scared of having his dark secrets brought to life that he'd rather ask a girl to sign a contract before asking her to climb on top, then I think he has more problems than he realizes. But I just keep quiet and listen anyway. “Sometimes, I get so overwhelmed, I just want to … ” He lifts his hand and makes a fist before releasing the air in his lungs with a rush. “I just want to scream. There's always a hidden agenda when I talk to people. They always want something from me, so I've learned not to pay them any respect. How can I?”
His entire explanation smacks a little of poor little rich boy, but I don't think somebody has to be ecstatically happy with their life just because they're wealthy. The same way that my mothers taught me sexism goes both ways, they also taught me that everybody deserves to be happy – no matter what their standing in life. The only difference is that Lex has all the tools in his arsenal that he needs to achieve that end. Some people have none of them. So while I'm not crying tears at his plight, I decide not to openly mock him either.
“Okay, but you do realize that you're a dick, right?”
Lex purses his lips together, his gray eyes sparking with
anger, warming the air between us. The fingers holding the condom twitch, smacking the package against the sharp lines of his expensive suit.
“And you do realize that you can be a bitch at times?”
I point at my car again.
“I can go ahead and leave right now, Lex, if that's what you want. I won't lose sleep over it, but I'm guessing because you ran all the way down here to see me that you will.” He takes a step closer to me, but I don't budge.
“I wanted a chance to tell you this.” Another step closer. The smell of him overwhelms me, and I can feel the heat of his body, playing off the anger in mine. God. “If I want to dominate, but I also want to be dominated, what does that mean?”
“That you're bipolar?” I ask, but I'm actually joking. Inappropriate moment maybe, but I'm starting to feel uncomfortable. His pulse is picking up; mine's rising to match. His eyes keep finding my lips; mine refuse to look anywhere else.
“Maybe that means … I just want someone equal to me?” I swallow hard and feel my lashes flutter. Is it weird that I find that statement … hot? “I want someone that isn't afraid of me, someone that I respect.” Holy crapola. This is getting way too close to a Hallmark moment for me. I'm not sure exactly what Lex is trying to say, so I decide to clarify.
“This means … what exactly?”
“It means,” he whispers, leaning down and putting his lips precariously close to my ear. “That I want you to fuck me like you hate me.” Lex touches a hand to my waist, but instead of grabbing at me, he rests his fingers there, like he's asking a question. This, I can handle. This, I can deal with.
“That's the conclusion you came to in your office, after I asked you to self-reflect. That you want to have sex with me?”
I don't move, don't touch Lex, don't wrap my fingers in his hair and throw him into the backseat of my car. Not yet anyway.
“And then I'd like to take you out on a date.” His other hand, the one with the condom package appears in my vision, his thumb rubbing over the silver square like he's caressing it. My phone rings again, and I back away, sitting down on the seat and grabbing my purse with twitchy fingers. Lex sighs and takes a step back, staring down at me with a baffled expression on his face.
“Hard to imagine that anyone would say no to that, huh?” I ask him as I take a look at my phone again. Another unknown local number. This has to be Lara Caliper. Or maybe I'm just imagining that it is, so I have something to focus on other than Lex and his erection which, by the way, is staring me straight in the face.
I shove the purse and the phone aside, grab the high heel that's stabbing me in the ass and toss it to the floor before I look back up at Lex.
“The date thing is questionable, but the fact that I hate you isn't really up for debate.”
He stares down at me, running his tongue over his lower lip.
“And the sex?” he asks, his voice smooth and sumptuous. And mean. Still mean. Like I said, I don't think a kind word has ever filtered between those full ripe lips of his. “Is that up for debate, too?” I glance around the parking garage. It's late enough that nobody should be showing up to start work, but early enough that nobody should be thinking about lunch either.
I've never done it in a parking garage. I read a book once where they did, on the hood of a car. But those people were rock stars. I'm a … yuppie. I look up at Lex. He, on the other hand, is a billionaire boss. That counts as erotic, right? I could do something erotic with that.
“Olivia? An answer would be nice.”
I scowl at him, forcing myself to my feet. It's hard to feel intimidating in a pair of vegan slippers, but I've been trained by the best, so I make it work.
“Don't come down here and say weird things and expect for me to just forget that you suck and that you're an asshole.” Lex leans in close and bites my lower lip. Seriously just nips it, right then and there. I stare at him in openmouthed shock.
“Those are exactly the things I'm asking you not to forget. The sex is better that way.”
“There's not going to be any sex if you don't shut your fucking mouth.”
Lex grins and unzips his slacks, like he's already fairly certain he's going to get away with this. The gesture bothers me, so I shove him, right in the pecs. I can feel the fine points of his nipples beneath the fabric. They feel … nice. Really nice. I shove him again. Lex reaches up and grabs my wrists in tight fingers, the condom package pressing against my skin like a promise. Or a warning.
We stare at each other for a good thirty seconds. Eyes locked on, pupils dilating. I can taste the heat on the back of my tongue, feel the frustration brewing in my chest.
“You can't offer me a hundred million bucks to screw you, and then go asking me out when I tell you I'd do it for free. Your motives become questionable.”
“My motives are always questionable, but you like that, don't you, Olivia?”
“It's Oli.”
“It's whatever you want it to be,” he says a split second before our mouths crash together, and I wrench my wrists from his grip, clawing at his hair, yanking on it and turning us in a slow circle, so that he's the one with his back facing the car. Our tongues dance together, thrusting against one another like swords, before he finally – fucking finally – gives in. For a man who claims he likes to be dominated, Mr. Lyndon doesn't give it up easily.
I lean into him, trying to make up for the height difference between us. I hope he gets a crick in his neck, I think meanly as I pull away and nibble his lower lip, feeling the slight swelling I left with that crack across his face earlier. Thinking about that moment doesn't turn me off though. I have no idea what the hell is wrong with me, but the more I think about his harsh words, his heated glares, the way he stuck a business card between my butt cheeks, the more turned on I get.
I snarl against his mouth and he groans back at me, like two animals participating in some sort of weird mating ritual. Unlike an animal though, I do remember the practical side of things, stealing the condom from Lex's fingers and tearing the package open. His slacks are already unbuttoned, leaving me with the simple task of shoving his briefs down, yanking them over his rigid cock. I push them down all the way, freeing his balls and taking hold of them with a rough grip that makes Lex gasp against my mouth.
“Careful there, Miss Ashcraft.”
“Shut your fucking mouth, Lex,” I tell him, watching in fascination as his pulse jumps and thrums in response. I find my lips drawn to it, my teeth grazing across the stiffness in his jaw and the muscles of his neck. “Does that piss you off?” I whisper, massaging his balls with rough fingers. I don't know a damn thing about BDSM – none of the official stuff anyway – but I caught enough words in that stupid contract of his to get an idea about what it is that he wants. Not that I give a shit, of course. This isn't about Lex; this is about me. But if he was willing to pay me to slap him around, then that means I basically have the freedom to go with my gut. My natural instincts command that I smack some respect into this asshole.
“Put the condom on,” I command him, enjoying the look of frustration on his face. Lex snatches it from my hand, grunting as I release my death grip on his balls and step back, watching him slip the latex over his dick.
Oh crap.
“This is really happening, isn't it?” I whisper, feeling suddenly like I might be making a mistake. What the fuck am I doing? Lex is not the man for me. He's not the man for anybody. He's rude and annoying and mean and selfish. I keep letting him into my life, one way or another, by coincidence or design I don't know, and he continuously fucks with my head. I don't like misogynistic alpha male asshole pigs. I make myself repeat this mantra three times in a row.
Lex just looks annoyed.
“I'm standing in a parking garage with my pants around my ankles and a condom on my cock. I would hope so.” All of this is said through gritted teeth while he watches me stand there and bite my lower lip.
If I have sex with him now, what am I promising later? Am I really going t
o date this guy? Or even just go on a date with him? He's such a … brat. If I sleep with him, am I giving in? I mean, he's nice to look at, but I'm not drunk on wine right now, not … on an elevator. Maybe right now, I'm just delusional?
“Olivia,” he snaps at me, drawing me out of my frantic whirl of thoughts. I glare back at him. It's hard to take him seriously with his dick sticking up like a flag and his balls illuminated by the fluorescent lighting above our heads. I ignore the warning growl in his voice and turn away, trying to get my head together.
This can't happen here. It just can't. I don't know what I was thinking. Okay, that's not entirely true. I was thinking with the lady boner downstairs and not with my brain, that's what happened. If I sleep with Lex now, I'll never be able to look at that smirk of his again without wanting to kill him. If I think his smug, male arrogance is bad now, it can only get worse.
A warm hand pushes up my shirt in the back, sliding against my flesh and slamming me over the trunk of somebody else's this-car-is-so-expensive-that-I-have-to-keep-working-for-the-Lyndon's sedan. My skirt slides up with another scalding press of flesh on flesh, fingers shoving the hem over my ass and then dipping to pull aside my panties. Before I can even take in a single breath, Lex is thrusting into me, filling me up with a gasp and a grunt, curling my nails against the silver paint of the car we're committing some sort of misdemeanor on.
My eyes go wide and my lips part, but I can't think of a single thing to say as Lex begins to move inside of me, slamming his hips into my ass, turning my knees to jelly, dragging a moan from my lips that feels like a betrayal. Oh my God, oh my God, oh my fucking fuck, that feels good. Too good. Scandalously good.
Lex is so much taller than me that when he pushes forward, sliding himself balls deep against my ass, my feet come up off the ground. My pelvis hits the car as he grunts, holding me up with a hand clamped around my hip. My vision blurs and dims and my lashes flutter. Rutting on the trunk of a car with Lex Lyndon … I feel like I should fight, but I can't. Not yet anyway. The orgasm sneaks up on me as he pummels me into the vehicle, knocking the air from my lungs and the common sense from my brain. I tell myself this isn't any different than picking up a guy during a night out and taking him home. Right? Just because he's an asshole doesn't mean I can't enjoy the thick heaviness of his cock moving inside of me, the spiral of pressure that gathers in my spine, the small scream that escapes from my throat as the orgasm finally takes over. My muscles clamp down around Lex as I struggle to keep my voice down, keep a blood curdling screech from echoing between the concrete walls around us. My body clenches and squeezes around Lex, and I can feel the stiffness of his muscles (among other things) as he tries to hold himself back from the edge. That bitch. My only hope is he doesn't realize what just happened. I grit my teeth and force myself to brace my hands against the side of the car. After all this fighting, and this back and forth, and this bullshit, he gets the first real move in on me? That bothers me. And infuriates me.
Taming Her Boss Page 13
