Gasping in air, I moved my hand over my dick faster, almost feeling like he was making me wait now. The pressure was building, but my focus was on his words. On how I could have so much more than my hand.
“Luther…please…”
“Come for me, pet. I’m already more tempted than I should be to say fuck the rules, but it won’t be long.” His lips brushed mine. “For now, give me this.”
I came with a shout, warmth spilling over my hand and hitting his desk. My hips jerked and my legs trembled as the surge of pleasure melted through me, stealing the last of my strength. I dropped my head against the back of the chair, panting like I’d run a mile.
Luther remained at my side, still looking like he wanted to touched me, groaning softly before reaching into a drawer and handing me a box of Kleenex. “Clean yourself up and we’ll continue.”
The lessons continued, first with more typing—of less erotic material—then practice phone calls and an in depth study of Xavier’s specific filing system. Lunch was brought in for us by a maid who introduced herself as Julia and let me know she’d put fresh towels in my bathroom and to please inform her if I needed more.
Sitting at the other side of Luther’s desk, in a folding chair he’d pulled out from a storage space behind a bookcase, I thanked her for my smoked meat sandwich and fries, stammering ‘No, thank you,’ when she asked if I wanted a glass for my soda.
When she left, Luther shot me an amused look. “Do women make you nervous?”
“No, they were usually nicer to me on the streets than the men.” I plopped a fry in my mouth and shrugged. “It’s just weird having someone serve me.”
“She’s paid very well for it. I found her working at a local diner and she wasn’t intimidated by Xavier, so I hired her on the spot.” He grinned at me over the rim of his glass. “She’s going to night school to become a paralegal, so we won’t have her for long. I’ll miss her offhand comments to Xavier about him leaving wet towels on the bed. Nothing I said could break the habit, but she straightened him out her first weekend here.”
I laughed and reached for a fry. Mine were all gone.
Luther pushed his plate between us so I could reach his.
“I know this house is huge, but why don’t you and Xavier share a room?” I hesitated in reaching for the fries, but Luther gave me a level look, making it clear he wouldn’t continue until I helped myself. I grabbed a few. “Thank you. I don’t know why I’m still so hungry.”
“Because you’re getting used to eating regularly again. I’m happy to see it.” Luther leaned back in his chair and folded his hand over his stomach. “Our relationship works because we know when to give one another space. When he’s designing new lines he stays up late in his room and needs his focus. He comes to my room the rare times he lets himself truly relax.”
“Because he doesn’t connect your space with work.”
“Exactly.” Luther used his napkin to wipe his hands, then stood. “Finish up. The tailor will be here any minute.”
“Great.” I popped one last fry in my mouth, trying to sound enthusiastic, even though the idea of some stranger who was used to dressing up rich, powerful men like Luther and Xavier stripping me down and judging me made my stomach turn.
Coming around the desk, Luther gave me an encouraging smile and held out his arms. “Come here.”
“We can’t—oof!” I rested my head on his chest as he pulled me close. “This is touching.”
“It’s a hug. And you need it.” He pressed his lips to me hair. “There’s a quote I think you need to repeat to yourself at least once a day. No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.”
“I’ve heard it. Eleanor Roosevelt?”
“She’s credited with saying it, but…either way, I love that you’re well read, despite your circumstances. Feel free to come to my office at any time if you want to grab a book.” He tipped my chin up with a finger. “You’re smarter and stronger than you think—”
“Now you’re quoting Winnie the Pooh.”
“—and very difficult to compliment.” Luther chuckled as he released me and folded his arms over his chest. “We’ll keep working on that confidence. Fake it for now, I won’t tolerate anyone looking down on you.”
The tailor arrived a few minutes later and the next few hours consisted of me trying on more clothes than I’d owned in my whole life. Kali Brooks, the tailor, worked with Xavier and had been sent shopping for me that morning. While she made sure everything was perfectly fitted, one of Xavier’s butlers brought in bags of boxers and socks, jeans, tracksuits, and sneakers.
The butler handed me a note when he was done, his lips curving when I opened it, then stared at him. He left without a word.
Dear Alexander,
I regret that I couldn’t join you today, but there were several matters that demanded my attention. I know Luther will have you wearing suits meant to tempt me, but I’ve asked Ms. Brooks to assure you have a wardrobe that you will be comfortable in. Please feel free to have her return anything that’s not to your tastes.
While I enjoy the games I play with Luther, it was not my intention to make you feel used or torn between us. I apologize that my attitude showed otherwise. I believe you will be an ideal employee, and whatever else I may desire, that is of the utmost importance.
I look forward to having you join me on Monday.
Warmest regards,
Xavier
I shook my head as Luther came to my side. “I’m so confused.”
“Why?”
Holding out the note, I waited as he read it, ducking my head when he laughed. “I thought he didn’t like me.”
Luther handed the note back to me, his smile warming his dark brown eyes. “You were very wrong.”
Chapter Five
My hair had been trimmed, and looked shiny and healthy, but as I struggled to make it behave Monday morning, I wished Luther had let me shave it all off. Gnashing my teeth, I pulled a rubber elastic from the collection I always kept in my pocket—mail carriers dropped them on the street every morning—and tied my hair at the nape of my neck. The harsh hairstyle made my cheekbones stand out even more, I still looked too skinny, but at least it wasn’t messy.
The tie was another issue. After practicing with Luther I’d been sure I’d be fine on my own, but no matter how often I tried, it just didn’t look right.
I tore it off and threw it across the room, flopping onto my bed and staring at the ceiling.
No matter what Luther said about the opportunities I had, I knew it came down to how much I impressed Xavier today. I wasn’t stressed because of my hair or the damn tie. I was terrified I’d screw up and be out on my ass by lunch.
Three days surrounded by warmth and comfort and I wasn’t sure I could survive on the streets again. Just yesterday the rain pounding on the windows had reminded me of how many days I’d spent, desperate to find shelter, shivering as every inch of me was soaked, fighting to stay awake because I’d seen too many others like me fall asleep on a cold night in a dark alley and never wake up.
You can do this, Alec. Luther made sure you were ready. I nodded as I gave myself a pep talk, then went over the last two days of instructions. It might be nothing compared to the experience everyone else who worked for Xavier had, but he’d chosen me for a reason. He knew everything about me. He knew I needed the job more than any one of them.
Because of that, I’d work hard to keep up. I wouldn’t take anything for granted. I’d put up with his ‘moods’, as Luther called them, and remember, no matter how much of a jerk he could be, that he was one of the two men who’d saved my life.
Pressing my fist into the mattress, I sat up and stepped off the bed. I did the best I could with my tie, pulled on the shoes I’d spent most of the night polishing, then went to join Luther in the kitchen.
He set down the newspaper he was reading and motioned me over as he stood. “You look good. I like your hair better lose, but whatever you’re mos
t comfortable with works.” He straightened my tie a little, lips curving as he stepped back and assessed me for a moment. “Perfect.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes. And careful with your speech. If Xavier’s in his moods, he’ll pick at it.” Luther reached out and pulled out a chair. “Sit down and have a coffee with me. Today will go well, I promise.”
I believed him. Until I got to the office and he left me on the elevator while he went off to do whatever a head of security did. The whole ride up, I repeated his last words to me like a mantra.
You’ve got this. You’ve got this. You’ve got this.
“Are we dressing children? When have I ever asked for neon pink? Cerise is not complicated!”
As I stepped off the elevator I almost slammed into a young man in tears who was carrying bundles of bright pink fabric.
A door slammed and we both jumped.
The young man sniffed. “Are you the new guy?”
“Yes…?” Unless there was another new guy? Maybe one who was better suited to dealing with Xavier when he was losing his mind over a color? “My name’s Alec.”
“Peter.” He shook my hand, then balanced the material under one arm and wiped his cheeks with his shirt sleeve. “I wouldn’t go in there yet if I were you. He’s freaking out.”
“Isn’t it my job to figure out how to fix that?”
Peter shrugged. “Not sure you can, but either way…good luck?”
Shooting him an uncertain smile, I headed in the direction of the slammed door. All the other offices had glass walls and doors, but at the end of the hall there were light wood double doors with a simple, empty desk beside them.
My desk.
Inhaling slowly, I pulled off my dark blue suit jacket. Laid it over the back of the very comfortable looking office chair. Sitting there and waiting for instructions was tempting, but I had to show some initiative if I was going to prove myself.
I rolled my shoulders, then went to the door. Behind me I was pretty sure every person on this floor was holding their breath.
Bracing myself, I knocked.
“Come in.”
The office was cooler than the rest of the building, almost as though Xavier kept the AC on high even though it was late fall. Maybe I should have worn my jacket after all.
Closing the door behind me, I watched Xavier pace, not sure what to say.
He shook his head and sighed, stopping in front of the floor to ceiling window and staring out. “The suit you’re wearing, whichever one it is, is my design. For the past two years, I’ve become more well known for my suits and my magazine. My passion has always been the dresses. The beautiful flow of them, how they are so like moving art, the way whoever wears them can look in the mirror and see themselves how the world does when they truly want to stand out.”
I remained silent. I had a feeling he wasn’t done.
“My last few designs have drawn a lot of interest, but unless the reveal goes perfectly, I’ll be trapped exactly where I am now. I can’t afford to invest more in a failed project. Not without putting the core of my company at risk.” He rubbed the back of his neck and tipped his head back. “Not only is the fabric all wrong, someone leaked the day of my fashion show too early and a competitor has already scheduled their own for the same day.”
“Has that ever happened before?”
“Yes, but I was a phenomenon back then. One of the youngest designers, the first to have his own company producing high-end fashion before twenty-five, with my dresses on every red carpet around the world. All the money I’ve made can never recreate that feeling of knowing what I was creating was so fresh and new everyone wanted to be part of it.” He shook his head. “I knew it wouldn’t last, but I can still have some of that glory again, can still share it with the designers who work with me, the models who I brought in to work the runway for the first time because I believe they’re different and gorgeous and will have a whole new generation falling in love with fashion.”
I wet my bottom lip with my tongue, quietly crossing the room to stand beside Xavier and look out at the city. Dallas looked amazing from up here, with the length of the Trinity River in the distance, the skyscrapers, the suburbs beyond all stretching out with more potential than I’d ever seen when looking up from below. It was hard to feel hopeless when you stood so close to the clouds. There just seemed to be more, just out of reach, waiting for you.
“I know it’s not my place—”
“Why wouldn’t it be your place? Are you here to help me or to stand there and look pretty?” Xavier glanced over. His jaw ticked. “What have you done to your hair?”
Bringing my hand up to my hair, I frowned at him. “What’s wrong with my hair?”
“It’s too harsh. You don’t look like yourself.” He shook his head and motioned for me to turn around. “At least you didn’t cut it. May I?”
“Yeah…I mean, yes.” I cursed myself internally for the slip, then held my breath as his fingers gently worked the elastic free, then combed through the loose strands until it flowed softly down to my collar.
The tension seemed to seep out of the room as he continued to stroke my hair distractedly, speaking low. “If you want me to stop, please say so. This isn’t part of your job.”
“I don’t mind.” I bit back a groan as his hand slid under my hair to the back of my neck. “So long as it’s not in front of anyone. I don’t want them to think…to think what they probably already know.”
“They know nothing. They may be curious about you, but the fact that you were brave enough to come in here when I was that angry will earn their respect. Only Luther ever dares knock on the door.”
“I wouldn’t have come in unless you’d told me I could.”
“I know. But I’m glad you did.” He sighed and let his hand fall to his sides. “Come sit and tell me what you think of my set up for the fashion show. I’m trying to appeal to a younger demographic and you’re the right age.”
“Not sure how much I can help. Fashion isn’t a priority when you’re starving.”
“For some, fashion is why they’re starving, which is a problem I’m trying to address, but I hear what you are saying. Still, I think you’ll have a good eye for this.” His lips curved slightly as I started toward one of the two dark red, padded wood chairs in front of the massive executive desk. “Besides, you’re too distracting standing there. Luther is determined to make me suffer, isn’t he?”
“He did mention you might like this outfit.” I ran my thumb under the dark blue suspenders both Ms. Brooks and Luther insisted looked good on me, but I’d felt stupid in until I got a good look at myself in the mirror. Going with a vest had been a simpler choice, but this made a statement.
One I’d been confident with, even though I’d never dressed this nicely before.
“Did he pick out your clothes or simply provide you with a selection and give suggestions?” Xavier rested his hip against his desk, not moving even after I’d taken a seat. “I’d imagine if he’d chosen for you, you’d be wearing a simple suit for your first day. Still snug in all the right places, but nothing to make you stand out too much. That shade of blue shines a bit in the light and brings out your eyes. The suspenders are a naughty kind of cute. He’s got good taste, but this is more something Ms. Brooks would have given you as an option.”
All right, this man was scary observant. Luther had suggested one of the light grey suits. Which were comfortable, but I figured I’d fade into the background and I wanted Xavier to notice me. For my work and…hell, him finding it difficult to keep his hands off me wouldn’t be a hardship.
The feeling would be mutual.
“It was one of the outfits Ms. Brooks brought on her own. She’s also making me a few based on color swatches and styles from your magazines that she showed me.” I folded my hands on my lap when I noticed him watching me fiddle with the suspenders. The last thing I wanted was to get called out for fidgeting. “I almost refused when I found out how much it all
cost, but Luther promised I’d earn it back in a week.”
“Did he now?” Xavier chuckled and brought his hand up to frame his jaw. “How much does he think I’m paying you an hour?”
“Fifteen dollars an hour, and double for overtime.” I cleared my throat, hoping I hadn’t just fucked myself over by telling him, when I’d had a hard time accepting the amount Luther had told me. It seemed excessive for someone with my lack of experience. “It’s too much, I know it is, but Luther wasn’t willing to talk about it and I’m not trying to start problems.”
Xavier nodded slowly. “I’m teasing you, Alexander. That’s the starting salary for all my personal assistants. Luther and I agreed on the overtime pay to keep me in check when I forget my employees have lives beyond the job. There’s no reason for you to be an exception.”
My lips parted.
He arched a brow.
“Your…personal assistant? Luther said—”
“Please stop repeating everything ‘Luther said’. It’s tiresome.” Xavier made a dismissive motion. “I wanted a secretary because I didn’t want to waste time training someone new. But you don’t irritate me. Yet.” He reached over and slapped a massive phonebook-sized magazine in front of me. “This is the line we’re working on. Tell me your favorites. Then we’re going to have the designers present each of your selections and see if it works.”
I blinked at him. “No way. You can’t let me make decisions that will have such a big impact on your company.”
Polished Page 5
