by Linda Kage
He smiled one of his I-know-I’m-about-to-get-lucky smiles. “Then I guess I’ll have to drunk call you again and blow up until we have another one of these oh-so-enlightening conversations where you pretty much tell me how amazing I am.”
I sniffed and shook my head. “Don’t make me regret saying anything that even resembles that, Parker.”
“Too late now.” He grinned, reaching out to run a single finger down the side of my arm. “You said it; I’m never letting you live it down.”
“Oh Lord.” I shivered uncontrollably when his finger began to slowly trace its way back up the outside of my arm. But fuck, my elbow had never been so sensitive before. Tingling spread through my hot spots before pulsing needily. It’d been a week since he’d last been inside me, and my body decided that was far too long a wait.
But I outwardly stayed firm and sent him a stern glower. “I’m never opening my mouth again,” I told him.
He sniffed out an amused sound and shifted closer. “Remember that time I came over and you showed me the birth control packet you’d just gotten, letting me know we could stop using condoms?”
As his fingers deliberately moved over my collarbone, I released a breath and felt my breasts tighten under my shirt. “Yes,” I rasped. “I remember.”
“That was the first time I’d ever gone without,” he admitted, reaching the lowest point in the V-neck shirt I wore, right where my cleavage began. “I think I lasted about ten seconds after I got inside you that night.”
I shook my head and wrinkled my nose at him. Where in the world was he going with this?
“If you’re lucky, though,” he added, lifting his other hand so that he could grip the V-neck with both hands. “I might last twenty seconds this time.”
And he tore the shirt down the center, splitting it apart with a savage growl.
“Fox!” I gasped in shock as he dove in, kissing my throat and down to the cups of my bra. “What—?”
“You hate this shirt,” he said against the topmost swell of my left breast. “You complain about how uncomfortable it is every time you wear it.”
True. But— “It makes my boobs look good.” Which was exactly why I’d put it on after he agreed to come over this morning.
“Mmm.” He kissed them as he agreed with me. “Yes, it does. I’ll get you a new one.”
He was much kinder with the bra—probably aware that it was my favorite—and he pulled the straps off my shoulders before plucking a breast free and sucking the nipple into his mouth.
I sobbed and arched, gripping his shoulders as he feasted. And his hands just kept moving, stripping me naked as he peeled off my yoga pants and panties down my legs together, not even noticing—or probably caring—that I’d been wearing a matching underwear set for once, just to impress him.
Clueless male.
But then he pushed a finger inside me, stroking that perfect spot, and I decided I didn’t much care either.
Damn, he had some very talented digits, though.
I grappled for the elastic band on his gym shorts as he sucked and stroked, and I yanked them down with savage satisfaction before pushing on his chest hard enough to make him lose his balance and fall backward.
He clawed for air for a moment before landing with a bounce on the cushioned seat of my recliner. Then his gaze gleamed with satisfaction as he grinned up at me.
“Take your shirt off,” I commanded.
He fumbled in his rush to comply. When he was as naked as I was, I sank onto his lap and crawled on my knees to straddle his hips and position myself above him.
Setting his hands on my hips as if to help guide me, when actually he let me do all the work, Fox watched in amazement as I lowered myself onto his cock, taking all of him into me. Head falling back onto the backrest, he groaned and arched his hips up as his fingers tightened around my waist. “God.”
I paused once he was good and settled deep. Then, watching the tight strain on his jaw, I moved, pumping up and down.
He caught my eye and sent me a heartbreaking smile. “I missed you so damn much. Never again. Never.”
Kissing him, I promised with my lips and my body that I’d always be open and honest about where I was in our relationship. He kissed me back, pledging his love and devotion in the same way. Then he wrapped his arms around me and held on as we tipped over the side of oblivion together. I was still hugging his face into my breasts where he’d planted it when he muffled out a content sigh and grinned up at me.
“Damn, I think we might’ve made it all the way to forty-five seconds that time.”
I threw back my head and laughed. I really did love this man.
But when I looked back down at him, I could still see the bloodshot eyes even though he was still smiling at me. And the scruff on his jaw was woollier than he usually kept it. It’d been a rough week for him. Because of me.
And I still hadn’t done what I knew now that he needed me to.
Cupping his cheek in my hand, I murmured, “We didn’t resolve everything today, did we?”
“Of course not.” He turned his face in to kiss my palm. “We’ll always have problems. Like any normal couple. But we’ll deal with each one as it comes up, and then we’ll have awesome makeup sex before working on fixing the next issue that needs to be tackled.”
“Okay, then.” I nodded in reassurance. “I like that answer.”
“I figured you might.” Smoothing his hands up to sink his fingers into my hair, he cupped my face and said, “It’s going to be okay, Bells. We got this.”
For some reason, I absolutely one hundred percent believed him.
Chapter Seventeen
Yellow
THREE DAYS LATER ON A TUESDAY
I was working diligently at my desk when Jada came blowing out of her office with her iPad in hand.
“Nicksen!”
Popping to my feet because she sounded so brusque and mad that I was sure I was about to get into trouble for something, I stuffed the last bit of bagel I had left to eat of my breakfast into my mouth and muffled out, “Yes, ma’am?”
She paused, then blinked at me as she archly watched me chew and swallow. Then she lifted her iPad to show me the screen. “I want to reword this memo so it sounds less...kind. These assholes are three payments late, and I’m beginning to lose my patience.”
“Um, okay.” Grabbing a pen and writing pad, I asked, “What changes do you want—”
She didn’t give me a chance to finish the question before she was spitting out corrections, pointing out sections as she spoke, causing me to squint at the screen to discover what parts she was talking about.
By the time she finished all her instructions, I’d filled out three pages of notes and my head was starting to swim, but I knew I could do this, so I nodded and told her, “No problem.”
She eyed me with distrust for a moment before giving a stiff nod. “Very well. See if you can have it done before noon.”
“Will do.”
I’d have this sucker done before eleven. Maybe ten.
“’Morning, ladies,” an achingly familiar voice perkily called from behind me, making me nearly jump out of my skin. “Anyone want a muffin?”
Jada lifted a curious eyebrow over my reaction before we turned together to face Gracen.
And I nearly let loose one of those pathetically lovesick sighs as I watched him approach. His smile was wide and friendly, as if he’d woken up after the perfect sleep, refreshed and ready to tackle the day. When he lifted a basket that had three muffins sitting in it, I just continued to stare at his face, ecstatic to get to be this close to him again.
He looked so good and cheerful and content. Simply looking at him made my entire day feel better.
“I’ve got banana-nut-flavored ones this morning,” he told both me and Jada. “Yesterday, it was blueberry, and the day before that, chocolate chip. Magda keeps bringing me a new batch every day. And I can’t seem to keep up. What do you think; am I growing a gut yet?”
When he turned to the side and arched back his shoulders as he displayed his flat stomach, Jada rolled her eyes and smacked him right in the diaphragm with the back of her hand.
“Stop sucking it in and maybe we’d be able to give you an honest answer.”
When he grunted from the contact, his old assistant Price passed by, pausing to scoop all three muffins from Gracen’s basket. Narrowing his eyes on his old boss, he held one up as he clutched the other two to his chest. “You owe me these. And more.” Then he defiantly took a huge bite straight from the top of one and walked off, eating it.
We watched him go before turning back to each other.
“Just what do you mean by a new batch every morning?” Jada asked her co-owner, as if nothing had just happened with Price. “Are you saying that bitch brings you muffins daily? In a fucking cloth-napkin-lined wicker basket, no less? She never in all the years she worked for me brought me a single muffin.”
Gracen paused. “She didn’t?” Then he cleared his throat and flushed as he cringed and rubbed the back of his neck uneasily. “Well, uh...” He must’ve thought it was time for a topic change because he pointed at me and blurted, “How about Yellow here? Things working out okay for you two?”
I held my breath, wondering what my new boss would say about me, and my hopes plummeted when she scowled. “You mean, how am I stomaching the perky little people-pleasing cheerleader?” With a roll of her eyes, she answered, “She's annoying as hell. Smiles at me and says hello every fucking morning. And today, she had the nerve to bring me a dozen donuts. Which are no doubt a hundred times better than your nasty muffins.”
I blinked, wondering if I’d just been complimented or insulted.
Meanwhile, Gracen gasped and covered his mouth with both hands, causing the handle of his basket to dangle from the crook of his arm. “That fiend,” he said. “Say it ain’t so.” He gave me a mock superior glance before snootily lifting his nose. “I mean, the gall of some people.”
“Oh, shut up,” Jada grumbled over his teasing. “The kid’s surprisingly not a half-bad assistant. She types and files a hell of a lot faster than Magda ever did.”
Really? I brightened, stunned to hear any kind of praise from Jada.
Gracen scowled at her, though. “Hey, Magda may be like a tortoise, but she stays steady to the course. Price was a hare with quick typing fingers too, but I could never keep him at his desk. He was always popping from one gossip station to the next. So, honestly, they both finish their work for me at about the same time.”
“Well…” Jada lifted her face haughtily. “I have the best of both worlds. Yellow types fast and avoids gossip.”
“Does she?” Gracen murmured, shifting a speculative glance my way. He sent me a warm smile before wrinkling his nose. “I should’ve known you’d be a goody two-shoes.”
Notching up my chin, I answered, “I prefer to call it tidy and competent, thank you very much.”
He chuckled out a grin as Jada murmured a downtrodden, “The child has definitely made me realize some nasty facts about myself, that’s for sure.”
“Oh yeah?” Gracen turned from me to consider her with a slight frown. “What facts are those?”
“I believe I assumed the same thing about her that the asshole Draper did when she was first hired. That she was just a pretty piece of mindless fluff. He only hired her because of her looks, and I never in a million years would’ve hired her for the exact same reason.” Shaking her head sadly as she looked at me, she said, “You really don’t stand a chance in hell of ever being treated fairly, do you? People are either going to be ignorantly too nice to you or pettily too rude. No one’s ever going to dive past the surface of all that shiny blond beauty and get to know the real you. It’s a shame too.” Turning to Gracen, she finished with, “She’s a tremendously sweet girl.”
“I’ve noticed,” he said with an obligatory nod, only to glance my way and add, “But I’d say it sounds like she ended up exactly where she needed to be in order to succeed.”
“Hmm,” Jada murmured, turning her attention to him. “I believe you’re right. Which makes me curious why you didn’t just trade Draper straight across the table for her when you had the chance.”
Gracen arched an eyebrow. “Did you just say trade for her? Seriously, Jay? She’s not a piece of property.”
Jada sighed. “You know what I mean.”
He sighed too before giving a careless shrug. “Well, I guess that’s the question of the day, then.” Lifting his eyebrows at her to let her know he was going to leave it at that, he then glanced at me and gave a small bow. “Ladies,” he announced. “Have a good day.”
And he rotated away before moseying back down the walkway between the cubicles and wall toward his office, whistling under his breath and merrily swinging his empty basket at his side.
“Well…” Jada murmured, sending me an arch glance. “I believe that boy fancies you.”
I immediately flushed and cleared my throat before sending her an odd look and repeating, “Fancies?”
She scowled. “Don’t mock my archaic choice of words. The phrase still applies today. And don’t try to deny that you don’t return the sentiment, either. I saw the way you looked back at him. The two of you are clearly smitten with each other. So come clean already. What’s the story there?”
“Story?” I squeaked, feeling my face burn hot. “What story? There’s no story.” But her gaze narrowed, so I gulped guiltily. “I mean, I knew him—barely—before coming to work here. Through his sister. We’d spoken together two or three times. But that—that’s all.”
Mostly.
Jada stared at me hard for a couple of seconds before humming an indistinct, “Mm-hmm. Well, if that’s all you say it is, then I suppose I shall believe you. Email me that memo when you’re finished.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I murmured, blinking after her as she turned away, crossed the walkway to return to her office, and closed the door behind her.
Clearing my throat, I glanced around to make sure no one had been listening in on our conversation, but everyone else seemed to be engrossed in other things, talking to other employees, chatting on the phone, scowling at the screens of their computers. No one had heard Jada basically call me out.
Thank God.
Smoothing my skirt down my thighs, I rushed back to my desk and returned to work.
I fixed up the memo and shot the next draft Jada’s way about an hour and a half before noon. She didn’t reply but exited her office again forty-five minutes later.
“I’m off to get something to eat,” she announced when I looked up. After hooking the strap of her purse over her shoulder, she slid her middle finger across the corner of her mouth, when she checked to make sure her freshly applied, bright red lipstick was still perfectly in place. “Meeting up with a friend, so it’ll probably be a late lunch.”
“Okay.” I sent her a brilliant smile. “Have fun.”
She nodded, only to pause and lift an eyebrow. “Oh, and nicely done on those memo revisions. Could you print off a physical copy and run it down to Gracen’s office for his approval? I don’t feel like going out of my way just now.”
“Uh…” I blinked at her. “Give him a physical copy?”
They were big here about sustainability and never printing off unnecessary pages. Most documents were handled electronically. So I had to wonder why she hadn’t asked me to simply email him the memo. Or better yet, why hadn’t she just sent him the copy herself?
And Jada was never the lazy type who couldn’t go fifty feet out of her way just because she didn’t feel like it.
So the suspicion that she was playing matchmaker hit me pretty hard.
Arching an innocent eyebrow my way, she asked, “Do you have a problem with that?”
“Uh, no,” I rushed to answer. I wasn't about to do anything that would cause her to accuse me of being insubordinate. And besides, passing up the chance to see Gracen twice in one day wasn’t part of m
y chemical makeup. “It’s no problem at all,” I told my boss. “I’ll get him the copy, right away.”
“Good.” Then she smirked, totally giving herself away when she added, “Have a nice lunch yourself.” And she strolled off.
I watched her go before plopping back into my seat and calling up the file before printing out a copy. I shared a printer with half a dozen other people, so I had to round my desk and dodge down an aisle between cubicles toward the center of the room, and then murmur an excuse me to two ladies and Price chatting together in front of it, before getting my hands on those two pages.
Then I returned to my desk to prepare.
I had brought a sack lunch today and Gracen’s office would be on the way to the breakroom, so it only seemed economical to stop by there on my way to eat.
Stomach swirling with anxiety as I stood, I primped big-time, ironing out my clothes with my hands, smoothing both palms over my hips of the skirt I wore, and then glancing around before I readjusted my boobs a little in my bra and then finger-combing my hair.
But even as I did it, I groaned to myself because, seriously, I was being so ridiculous. I probably wouldn’t even see him. His office door would no doubt be closed, as it usually was when I walked past on the way to the breakroom, and I’d simply drop the memo off with his secretary.
Not that it mattered if I did happen to catch a glimpse of him through a possibly open doorway because nothing was ever going to happen between us, anyway.
So it honestly did not matter how I looked if he did see me. And yet, I unconsciously scraped my teeth over my lips to brighten and plump them as I exhaled slowly and forced my steps to calm down on the way there.
But then I saw ahead that his door was open.
And Magda was not at her desk.
Oh shit. I was going to get to talk to him. Again.
All oxygen vacated my brain, leaving me light-headed. I swayed once before closing my eyes and drawing in a deep breath to chill out a little. I could do this. He was just a man.
