by K. I. Lynn
My jaw ticked in annoyance and after unlocking my office, I moved back to the doorway. There was no sign of her, so I sat in her chair. At six minutes after eight, she rushed around the corner toward me, her eyes on her phone. When she stopped, she jumped, startled to see me sitting at her desk.
“Late again,” I said as I looked her over. Her cheeks were flushed and her breath heavy. Black slacks covered her legs, flip-flops on her feet, and a green short-sleeved button-down that made the green in her eyes pop was twisted at the waist.
She must have caught my lingering gaze on her feet because she paid me no attention as she set her bag on her desk and pulled out a pair of black pumps.
“Are you going to explain?” I asked.
She swept a stray lock of hair back and slipped the pumps on. “The reason doesn’t matter, because all you’re going to do is be an ass about the fact that I’m a few minutes late.”
Her small feet were cute in the flip-flops, but the four-inch heels were sexy and made her the perfect height for bending over her desk. Thank fuck she wasn’t wearing a skirt like she had on Thursday.
I stood and looked down at her. “Come in when you’re settled.”
I returned to my desk and went through my email while I waited. Ten minutes passed before she appeared.
“Shut the door,” I said. I waited until she was done before asking her to take a seat. “One week down.”
“That’s it?” she asked with a groan.
“Yes, one week of wondering how big my cock is.”
Her eyebrows rose. “Oh, I figured that out on day one.”
“Did you?”
“Three and a half, maybe four inches.”
“It may be that small flaccid, but you just proved you have been thinking about my size.”
Her eyes widened, realizing she fell into my trap. The pink of her skin spread, and I grinned at her.
“What do you want?” she huffed in annoyance.
“To watch your squirm.”
She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Happy?”
“Not until I get you to bend to my will.”
“I’m not a horse. You can’t break me.”
“Oh, I don’t want to break you that way. My way is much more pleasurable for us both.”
She rolled her eyes again, but I didn’t miss her biting down on her plump bottom lip.
“The last man to say that to me was done in thirty seconds. I’m sure you’re no different.”
A grin spread on my lips. “Don’t make me prove you wrong right here, right now.”
She cleared her throat and stood. “Is that all you wanted?”
No, but it would do for now.
“To watch you squirm has made my morning. Now all I need is some coffee.”
“As you wish,” she said with that sweet sarcasm that spurred me on.
“Oh, and Roe?” I stopped her, and she turned back. “You should smile more.”
She lifted her arm and flipped me off before continuing on.
I chuckled as I stared after her.
Yes, it was going to be another fun week.
Days later, the stress of my job was weighing on me. I’d had so many meetings that one seemed to bleed into the next. Thankfully Roe was exceptionally good at taking notes, because I was not able to keep everything straight on my own.
Worthington Exchange was almost ours, but a couple of other companies we had interest in were coming to a head at the same time.
A groan left me as I ran my hands over my face. I scratched at the stubble on my jaw and glanced at the clock on my monitor.
When did it get to be noon? The last time I’d looked it was barely after nine. Had I even moved in the last three hours?
By the twinge in my back, I was guessing no.
The phone rang as I stretched my arms above my head and waited for Roe to answer it.
Another ring went by, and still nothing.
“Roe!” I called out as the phone rang again. The sound was grating. Over the last week she’d been better at answering it, but I couldn’t even see her.
Having had enough, I stood and stomped over to the door only to find her missing from her desk. I pulled out my cell phone and typed her a text.
Thane: Where are you?
I heard the chime of a phone and found hers sitting atop her desk, the screen lit up.
Carthwright the Assholian: Where are you?
I blinked down at the screen before picking it up, but it faded away.
There was no way I read that right. No way she gave my contact that name.
Thane: Why did you leave your desk?
The phone buzzed in my hand and lit up again.
Carthwright the Assholian: Why did you leave your desk?
I blinked down at it. Was that really what she thought of me?
For some reason, that didn’t sit right. It felt like a stone in my stomach.
I moved back into my office as I waited for her to return from wherever she’d run off to.
Yes, I was high-strung lately. Yes, I had taken my bad day out on her when she spilled coffee on me. But it was the clash of wills that had me playing with her. I enjoyed our back and forth, and as much as I knew she got annoyed, I didn’t realize I was the only one having fun.
James was right—she wasn’t a game. Verbal sparring was one thing, but I didn’t want her to think badly of me. Not when one of my goals was to have her.
Roe actually hating me was counterproductive. While I was certain the hate fuck would be spectacular, I craved more than that.
A few minutes later, she walked through my doorway with two bags in her hand.
“Where have you been?” I asked.
“I had to pick up your lunch,” she replied, holding up a bag.
Well, that made fucking sense.
“Without your phone?”
I tossed it onto the table in the corner of my office where she set the bags, and she snatched it up.
“Were you looking through my phone?” she asked, an edge of accusation in her tone.
“Of course not. It’s locked.”
“And if it was unlocked?”
“I would never.” Though I was tempted. “But I did see your screen when I texted you.”
She froze.
“Is that really what you think of me?” I asked.
“If the shoe fits, buy it in every color,” she said without missing a beat.
Another point for Roe.
I deserved the shot.
Still, it made my stomach twist. The woman had me falling all over myself, saying and doing things I would never do simply to get her attention, but now I was aware of how right James was.
What I thought of as exciting rubbed her wrong.
“Guess I’ll have to work hard to change your mind.”
“Do you really care what I think about you?”
“Yes,” I answered honestly. “And more than just because we are working together.”
She blinked at me and swallowed before turning her attention back to the bag in her hand.
“You know, I can get you this same salad for a fraction of the cost,” she said, changing the topic.
“It’s the best.”
She rolled her eyes. “And you only do the best.”
“Precisely. Did you get something for yourself?” I asked as I pulled two forks from a small liquor cabinet. I hated plastic utensils and kept a stash of stainless steel on hand.
“I can’t afford that.”
I lifted my head. “I told you earlier to pick something up.”
“And I did at the deli I passed on the way there.”
By the way she said it, I had a feeling she didn’t go with the spirit of my offer—I wanted to buy her lunch.
A blaring alarm sound made me freeze. “Crap,” she hissed as she set the container down on the table. After fumbling for her phone, she tapped the screen and blew out a breath.
“You didn’t answer?” I asked, curiosity it
ching at me.
She shook her head. “Alarm.”
“For what?”
She blinked at me, her cheeks pinking before she turned her attention back to the containers, pulling them from the bags.
“My pill,” she said.
Pill? Why would she be embarrassed about—
Oh, fuck.
I clenched my fist and slammed my eyes closed. My dick was rock solid in seconds.
Birth control pill.
Bare.
I could fuck her bare and come inside her.
“You’re killing me,” I whispered as I tried to regain some semblance of professionalism before I bent her over the table and did just that.
Again and again and—
Fuck.
We’d already inadvertently had the “I’m clean, you’re clean” conversation that first day, and now to find out she was on birth control?
I was screwed seven ways to Sunday.
“Your boyfriend likes that, I bet.” The words were acid on my tongue, burning with each syllable. But I had to know, to be sure.
“No boyfriend.”
“One-night stands?”
“None of those either.”
“Hookups with exes?”
She straightened and huffed, glaring at me as she shoved a container at me.
“None of your business.”
I grabbed her wrist when she moved to leave. “Why are you on it?”
“Fuck you.” She twisted from my grip. “You don’t get to know my reason, Carthwright, because it is mine.”
“For an ex?” I pressed. I needed to know for some damn reason.
Her gaze narrowed on me. “Maybe in hopes that one day I’ll find a guy worth fucking. Too bad it hasn’t happened yet.”
Lashed again.
I was sorely losing our game, but I began to wonder if that was a bad thing.
I stepped closer, looming over her. “Maybe you should come over and we can put that to the test.”
“Hell and no,” she hissed through clenched teeth.
I leaned down, my lips close to her ear. “Are you afraid to be alone with me?”
When I pulled back, that delicious pink was spread across her skin again. Her body was on my side—now to change her mind about me.
The adjustment to my temporary position wasn’t nearly as difficult as it was to be close to him. That arrogant, cocky attitude rubbed me wrong, though I had to admit the attraction between us was strong. Our push and pull only made it more difficult.
I reluctantly had to exchange numbers with Carthwright, and I immediately labeled it as Carthwright the Assholian. Not that he saw at the time. All he paid attention to was making sure I added it to my contacts.
The name was fitting, I thought. However, he did seem upset when he saw it the other day.
The exchange was mostly for emergencies or call-offs, so I was quite surprised on Saturday when I was cutting up fruit for Kinsey’s lunch when his nickname popped up on my screen.
Carthwright the Assholian: It has come to my attention that you don’t particularly like me.
A harsh laugh left me, causing Kinsey to look at me oddly, which only made me laugh more. Her expressions were often comical, especially when she was surprised by something.
Not liking him was accurate. Sadly, that did little to deter the attraction that buzzed when he was within five feet. Or when his smug mouth opened and that deep, silky voice came out.
Roe: Been sending your spies around, have you? Besides, did you really think I did?
Was his message because of the contact name?
I set the fruit in front of Kinsey before popping a piece into my mouth.
Carthwright the Assholian: I’d like the opportunity to change your mind.
Yeah, right.
Roe: You forced me from a position I actually liked and a career accelerating project, demoting me to your errand girl, and after all that, you think the hatred coursing through me might subside with some conversation?
Carthwright the Assholian: One night. Dinner. Anywhere you want to go.
Dinner? He wanted to go on a date? No. Not just no, but hell, no.
For one thing, I knew it would end in sex because I wanted him, but there was also Kinsey to consider.
Roe: I mean this in the shittiest way…go fuck yourself.
A bold move, but was he serious? It wasn’t happening.
Carthwright the Assholian: I’d rather discuss other alternatives.
That stopped me. It was almost as if I could hear him whispering the words into my ear, his breath blowing across my skin.
I crossed my legs, trying to ignore the feeling that was growing between my thighs.
How long had it been since I’d had other alternatives? There had also been enough instances to prove I was attracted to the man despite my words. The two of us alone, together, outside of the office only had one outcome—me ending up in his bed.
Why did I have to keep thinking about that? Focus, Roe!
Roe: Sexual harassment much? I’m not a notch kind of girl.
A ruse, because I refused to admit he piqued my interest past a romp between the sheets.
Or against the wall.
I wasn’t picky so long as that mouth never left my skin.
What is wrong with me?
I shook my shoulders out and straightened up, clearing my mind and body of the constant dirty road they kept veering off into when it came to the man.
Because the sad fact was that my body very much wanted to play.
Carthwright the Assholian: You’re so stubborn you won’t even hear me out? Fine. I like a challenge.
Roe: Better get your boxing gloves on. I don’t go down without a fight.
Carthwright the Assholian: Is that all you’ll be wearing?
I meant everything I said, but I also loved screwing with him. There was something about the man that set my blood on fire, and not in a bad way.
I wasn’t going to let him know that.
He was the epitome of the “I’m better than you” personality, from the set of his eyes as he looked at people, to the way he barked orders with neither a please or a thank you and the money he dropped left and right on things as simple as lunch.
The man did not need a fifty-dollar salad from Carmichael’s. I could get him the same thing for ten at the deli a block away.
Still, our constant back and forth felt like more than just bickering. There was an underlying current that drew us closer and closer.
Kinsey let out a grunt of protest and I looked over to find the banana gone, the last piece smashed to a pulp in her tiny fist.
“More?” I asked. She kicked her legs and started babbling, smearing the banana bits across the tray.
All the scene did was remind me that it didn’t matter how close we got, or if I did cave and have sex with him, he would run the second he laid eyes on her.
Every day at noon was torture. The musical reminder set my cock off at lightning speed, even with my mind engrossed in whatever task held my attention.
All thoughts were focused on what it would feel like slamming my hips against hers with no barrier, her tiny frame bouncing on my cock, squeezing around me. Imagining the high pitch of her moans, the heaviness of her eyelids as I made her come. The sweet milking of my cock until every drop of cum was inside her.
“If I cared about you, I might ask if you were okay.”
I blinked and focused on the woman in front of me. When did she walk in, and how long had she been there?
“Why wouldn’t I be?” I asked, noticing how low my voice was.
She shrugged. “Judging by your white knuckles, something is bothering you.”
The something is the fucking hard dick that you cause every single day.
“Would it matter to you if something was?”
She quirked a brow. “If I cared, but like I said, I don’t.”
My chest clenched. I hated her detachment, especially when I was beginning to care
about her for more than just a potential fuck. “Simply because I borrowed you?”
Was that why she was still angry?
“This isn’t borrowing. This is punishment.”
I thought by now she would have moved past all that.
“You did spill coffee all over me, and I’m not talking about the accidental initial splash.” That shit burned, but thankfully nothing more than a reddening of my skin. She must have cooled it down with something.
“You were being an asshole. I’d had a really shitty day, and I’d had enough. Simple as that.”
It occurred to me then that I had no idea what had gone on for her that day. No answer to the multiple stains on her white top. I only cared that they were there.
Thinking back, all I remembered was the agitation and anger that rolled inside me. Not at her, but at what had happened before I walked into that break room. To the phone call that caused me to slam the phone as hard as I could into the window. The glass was unbreakable, but I took some satisfaction from the destruction of the plastic on impact.
“I’m sorry I was an ass. It was a bad day for me too,” I said and actually meant it.
The invisible wall that always surrounded her faded. Muscles that were usually coiled tight, ready to fight, relaxed.
Her jaw clenched, and she glanced around the room before sighing.
“I hate manipulators.”
“It’s not manipulation. It’s truth. I really am sorry. I should have said something, alerted you. Instead, I took it out on you. All the stains on your shirt said that you were an easy target, and I needed an outlet. I didn’t know I was about to piss off a firecracker. You should come with a warning label.”
Her lip twitched. “I’m quite friendly. It’s not me—it’s you.”
I nodded. “It was.” It really was. “And I don’t want to be an asshole in your eyes any longer.”
She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, her hands clasped in front of her. “What was it, then? The bad thing?” she asked, unable to squash her curiosity.
My chest clenched, and I had to look away for a moment. “My mother…”
I trailed off.
My mother was a subject that was rarely broached. Nobody in New York but my little brother new about that part of my past, and even then, Wyatt didn’t know everything.