by Joya Ryan
When I got to my desk, I saw a gigantic vase of gray flowers. Not gray as in dead, but the color gray. I’d never seen such flowers before. They reminded me of Jack’s bedroom. Everything ranging from lilies to daisies to dahlias¸ were all gray. But in the middle of all those, was one perfect white rose.
“Gray flowers?” Edith said, walking up behind me, and chewing on a protein bar. “Did someone die?”
“No,” I defended. “It’s unique and classic.” And the color of Jack’s room. Not wanting to go into more detail about how incredible this actually was, I kept that last fact to myself. There was a small box next to the vase, and a card with my name on it.
“Ooooh! Who’s it from?” Edith asked, all but clawing to get to the card.
“Can I have a moment please?”
She frowned and turned to go back to her desk, mumbling, “Fine, be that way.”
I opened the card, and it was a single note that read:
Light within the storm.
~Jack
My breath caught. Four simple words that summed up last night and how he saw it. Light? He’d referred to me being naïve and innocent, but light? It made my heart beat heavier and happiness flooded me.
I tucked the card in my purse, then opened the box. There was a small tube of Ibuprofen, and thigh-high white stockings with lace trim. A small note said that the medicine was for the discomfort, and the stockings were for our next meeting. A surge of glee raced as I took the pills, but kept the stockings in the box, and stuffed it in my purse as well.
He cared about my comfort?
Not only that, but there would be a next time. I just didn’t know when.
I’d never had a secret boyfriend-lover before. But what happened between us last night was intense. It wasn’t lost on me that Jack had sidestepped an entire conversation about Cal and what was said, but that was something I couldn’t push. Not now. Not after agreeing to move forward.
Whatever was said between the two men was done now. And he knew where I stood with my job and keeping our affair low-key, since the staff finding out and being the center of gossip was not my idea of fun.
My cell rang, and I dug it out of my purse, smiling again when my fingers brushed the small glossy box that encased the stockings.
“Hey, Harper,” I answered.
“I feel like we keep missing each other.”
“I feel the same.”
“Well, I’m coming into Denver this afternoon, wanna grab lunch?”
“That would be great.” Since I had to talk to her and get some perspective.
“Okay, see you around noon.”
“Bye.”
With that, I put my phone back in my purse, pulled up my chair, and went to work. A hard task, since I kept stealing glances at the flowers on my desk and thinking of the storm that was Jack Powell.
A storm I couldn’t help but think I’d awakened. Or maybe it was the storm he awakened in me.
~
“So, you’re dating a shark?” Harper said with a smile, and took a bite of her pasta.
The little Italian place we met at was our favorite, and right down the street from my building.
I frowned, dipping my bread in olive oil. “What?”
“Your neck, girlfriend. Got a little bite mark right below your ear.”
My hand flew to my neck, then I pulled all my hair over my shoulders, adjusting so it’d cover my neck.
“Relax, it’s not that big of a deal.”
“What if someone at work saw it?”
“Who cares?” Harper said, with all the confidence in the world.
“I do. First the flowers, then this,” I motioned to my neck, “someone will—”
“Hold up,” Harper said. “He got you flowers?”
I nodded. “They were on my desk this morning.”
“Nice. So, are you going to tell me who this guy is?”
“It’s Jack.”
Harper frowned. “The selfie guy from a couple weekends ago?”
“Yeah. He’d been out of the country. He’s back, and…” I took a bite of my bread, because I didn’t know how to follow that up. Harper, however, had no problem pushing the topic.
“And you two had sex?”
“Yeah.” A huge smile lit my face, and I couldn’t help it or care.
“Good for you!” Harper said, but her smile faded, and she leaned in and spoke softly. “Did you handle it okay? Were you scared or…have bad memories or anything?”
She sighed, as if irritated with her own words, but I knew what she was trying to say. She was a great friend. She understood my struggle with sex and all the details, or lack thereof, when it came to my failed attempts in the past.
“Are you okay?”
“I really am,” I said, and reached for her hand. “Thank you for being so wonderful. But last night was different. Jack is different.”
Harper raised a brow. “Judging by the teeth marks, it wasn’t standard missionary.”
A small laughed escaped. “Actually, it was missionary, but there was nothing standard about it.”
“And, you were okay?” she asked again.
“Yeah,” I assured. “Jack was intense and demanding, but he was also soft when I needed him to be…and patient. It was like he could tap into my brain and turn the bad thoughts off. I just focused on him. Nothing else but him.”
“Wow, that’s quite a feat.”
It really was. Jack had taken his time, let me feel out everything. Feel him. That was, until I shifted. When he took my pleasure to a point of no return and I clawed—literally—for more. More of him. More of the moment that wasn’t terrifying, but fulfilling. I’d finally let go, given myself to someone of my own free will, and he’d taken me. With passion and so much ferocity it left me feeling strong and weak all at the same time.
“Sounds like your new boyfriend is off to a good start.”
Boyfriend? I liked the term. And while Jack said I was “his,” we’d never discussed terms beyond that.
“I wouldn’t say he’s my boyfriend. Our relationship is tricky, and I’d rather not tell anyone else but you about it.”
“Why?”
“Because he owns the resorts I work for.”
“Oh,” Harper said around a mouthful, but she didn’t looked as shocked as I’d thought she would. She shrugged. “People date their bosses all the time.”
“He’s technically not my boss. Well, not who I report to. Anyway, he’s high up the food chain.”
“Yeah, pretty sure it doesn’t get higher than the owner.”
“Which is why I’m going for discrete. Things like this get found out and it never ends well. I just want to do my job without gossip or misery, so I can save and go to grad school in a couple months.”
“I get it. Keeping your man on a secretive basis can be hot.” Harper winked.
There were lots of things about Jack that weren’t for public knowledge. Like his “brand of fucking,” as he once put it. But last night didn’t feel like that term matched it. It was more intense than I’d expected, but in a very good way. Yet, when I’d skyrocketed from turned on to nuclear meltdown, I had all but thrown a fit trying to get to him. Which meant I had acted without consideration of his needs. Including the need to control the situation. And I had a feeling I’d just chipped the iceberg last night.
Yes, it was clear he liked control. What that entailed, I was still learning. But when I fought him, begged for more, and interrupted his pace, he seemed both upset and turned on by it.
Logic would dictate not to push him like that again. Not because I was afraid he’d hurt me, but because pushing a man like Jack could lead to withdrawal. He could easily have countless other women filling his bed, doing his exact bidding at any moment. He didn’t need me.
Yet, he chose me.
The flare in my gut made me wonder how far I’d overstepped last night, because while he might not need me, I was starting to need him. His power, warmth and strength brought ou
t the fighter and the lover in me. This time, I was fighting for him, for myself, and for the passion I hadn’t realized existed in me.
“Just promise me that this guy is a good thing. That you’ll be careful.”
“He wouldn’t hurt me,” I defended.
“I’m not saying that. I’m just saying to take it slow.” It was the same thing she’d said last weekend.
“I know it looks like things are progressing quickly. But for the first time, I feel healthier. Like I’m finally having experiences a normal woman would have. I’m finally moving on from the past.”
The weight I’d been carrying around was getting lighter. Jack was showing me that sex didn’t have to be dirty or scary. It could connect you to something beyond yourself.
Harper nodded. “And I think that’s great, but there’s another big thing you need to keep ahold of.”
“What?”
“Your heart.” She looked at me for a long moment, a kind of sadness in her eyes. “Everything can go great, he can be great, but remember that in the end, people can always betray you. They can leave. They can lie. They can set you up. They can do nothing wrong at all, and for whatever reason, things just don’t work out. Don’t go into your first relationship blind to this.”
Okay, that sounded scary. One sexual experience, and I was naïve to the all the other stuff that came with a relationship. Like it ending at some point. But I couldn’t tell her about that. Or that my relationship was more of an arrangement that was being taken “one day at a time.” But there was mutual want and desire, right? That counted for something. Surely, I wasn’t the only one feeling a connection. At least, I hoped not.
“Is everything okay with you?” I asked.
“Yeah.” She waved her hand like nothing was ever a big deal. “Just working a lot.”
I went to ask her about the rumored firefighters that had a crush on her, but she motioned for the waiter and the check. “Sorry I had to make this a quick lunch, but I have a meeting soon.”
“Okay, sure, no problem.”
She put money down on the table, got up, and hugged me. “You finish your lunch and I’ll see you at home tonight.”
“Okay.”
She hustled her designer heels out the door and into the Colorado summer afternoon.
I took another breath, as every memory from last night replayed in my mind once more. It would be smart to keep some kind of emotional distance. Especially since I had no idea of the final outcome, or much less the equation that made up Jack Powell.
Chapter Eleven
As I walked back to the office, I thought a lot about what Harper said. I thought even more about what Jack had done.
Everything about last night seemed to stretch this emptiness in my chest and warm it. Being careful, especially with emotions, was smart. But he was different, had been from the moment I met him. He’d been hard and rough, but slow and deep. Then he sent me flowers. A sweet gesture. One a man does for a woman he’s interested in. A gesture that garnered a response.
I dug through my purse and pulled out my cell phone and the business card Jack had given me a few days ago, hoping he’d be at this number, and not at his house number. I may not be practiced in the correct relationship decorum, partly because this wasn’t a standard relationship, and also because I was the one insisting on keeping it secret from most everyone but Harper.
I stood against the side of the building before my office around the corner and dialed Jack’s office.
“Reign Resorts, Mr. Powell’s office?” the woman, who I assumed was Jack’s secretary, answered.
“Hi, is Ja—ah, is Mr. Powell available please?”
“Who’s calling?” Though it was a question, it sounded more like a test. Who I was would determine whether Jack took the call. I knew about this game. My father had a “take call” list. Only certain people got through.
I wasn’t one of them.
Something I’d figured out by the third time I’d called his office, and was told he was busy, and to leave a message. It wasn’t until I’d started working for him and overheard a discussion with his secretary about the “take call” list that I’d understood. He’d wave conversations and people off. And, I realized I was one of those people. He never called back. So I stopped calling.
“This is Lana Case.”
There was not another sound, other than a faint click and then mute silence. I looked at my phone, wondering if she’d hung up on me. But the call still showed connected. Pressing my cell back against my ear, I waited. Anxiety rose. This was where Jack’s secretary buzzed him, told him who was on the line, and he’d decide whether or not to take the call.
Another few seconds passed until…
“Good afternoon.” Jack’s deep voice made happy chills dance across my skin. I leaned against the building in relief.
“Hi.” I’d dialed him, and that was all I could think to say. My smile was too wide to get more words out at the moment. I was on his “take call” list. And the idea of that made my chest hurry to keep up with the happy breaths I was taking.
“How are you?” he asked.
Still smiling like a goof, realizing that a simple acknowledgment was all it took to make my day, I said, “I’m really good.”
“You sound like it. I can hear the smile in your voice.”
“Yeah, I’ve had a good day, and a good evening last night.”
“Have you?” There was a small smile in his voice that time. “Tell me, what events of your day and previous evening have you so happy?”
“Well,” I sighed. “There’s this guy, and last night he showed me a delightful time, and today sent me the most beautiful flowers I’ve ever seen.”
“Interesting.”
“Yes, he is. He’s also kind of intense, but there’s a soft side to him I don’t think he wants anyone to know about.”
“Is that right? You sure about this soft side of this mystery man of yours?”
“Pretty sure. He cared enough to think of my comfort after…”
“After?” His voice was thick and raspy, the way it was right before he put his mouth on me. The sound sent a shiver down my back.
“After we were together last night,” I said, a little softer. “He sent me beautiful stockings and medicine in case I was…sore.” I hadn’t spoken like this out loud, but this game was fun, and it was my own way of thanking Jack for the glimpse of his sweet side.
“And you think this man’s actions are a symbol of softness?”
“Yes,” I smiled wider.
“Perhaps he sent you the medicine to ensure you’d be able to recover quickly and handle what he has planned next.”
I swallowed hard.
“And the stockings are all he’s expecting you to wear at this next encounter.” He tsked. “Instead of softness, sounds like he’s a rather selfish man who has plans for you. And isn’t willing to wait very long to carry them out.”
I bit my lip to keep from moaning? Gasping? I didn’t know. Because everything in his voice was serious. And he always seemed to respond when I stood up and acknowledged him or his threats—or promises.
“Unless you say no, that is?”
He had told me before that I always had that option. Only “no” was one of the last things I wanted to say when it came to Jack.
“I have no intention of saying such a word. Actually, I was wondering what these plans could be?”
“Well, that depends. Did you anger your mystery man?”
“Of course not.”
“You sure about that?”
The way he said it made wonder if I had. “I’m pretty sure.”
“You weren’t impatient? Impulsive? Exercised what you wanted over him?”
I thought back to last night and yes, that is what I had done. But he’d sent me flowers, which was a nice gesture. He’d said I had to be handled delicately. Weaving in the nice with the naughty, so as not to scare me off. Was that what was happening?
“He’s l
ikes control,” I said in a hushed tone. “He was doing things to me…making me feel things…I may have—”
“If I were you, I’d wonder what exactly this man of yours is going to do to you for being such a bad girl.”
I swallowed hard. “W-what do you think he’s going to do?” This was speeding up pretty quickly, and so was my pulse. I was already aching to touch Jack and nervous from the wicked glint in his voice.
“Smart money would be on your pretty ass being punished.”
I ran my fingertips along my lips. My nipples hardened, and a pulse of anticipation, uncertainty, and sheer excited fear of what to expect coursed through my veins.
“Don’t look so surprised. I can tell by the way you’re touching yourself that you’re thinking about it, and they’re not all bad thoughts.”
I stood straight up and glanced around. There was no one other than a few people here, and they were walking. But when I saw the tall building that Jack’s office was in, I looked up. He could see me. Standing on the street this whole time.
My hand dropped from my mouth. I had been running my fingers over my lips, and he’d caught me.
Taking a deep breath, I stuck to my original notion. “Whatever he has in store for me, I’m sure I can handle it.”
Though I couldn’t see him, I looked up in the direction I knew he was.
“You think so?”
“Yes. Because, despite the stockings and medicine, he still sent the flowers. No other reason than pure desire and kindness.”
He didn’t say anything to that. Which meant I was on to something. Jack may be hard and kept his control, but there was a soft side. Otherwise, I never would have fallen for him or been drawn to him the way I was.
“Have you considered that this man of yours, and his tastes, may be too bold for you? Perhaps he’ll scare you off?”
I frowned. There was honesty in his voice that made me wonder if he was actually worried about this. After last night, I thought of a lot of things, but I didn’t think about what Jack must be thinking. Was he worried about me? If he’d hurt me or if he’d gone too far?
