by Kat Addams
“Relax. We didn’t do anything wrong.”
“You were just flopping your dick around out there for all to see!” she hissed.
“What do you mean, a floppy dick? You’ve seen it! You know my stallion is always ready for you to ride! Plus, it’s after midnight. No one is up, watching my amazing one-man show, except you.”
“Ugh.” She crossed her arms.
The officer tapped on our window. I bit my lip, took a deep breath, and pushed the button to roll my window down. This was one way to sober up quickly.
“Hey, Officer.” I saluted.
Too cool, Victor. You’re too cool. Cut the shit, I thought to myself.
“Mr. Beaumont.” The mustached man narrowed his eyes down at me. “It seems we had a disturbance this evening, didn’t we?”
“Yes. I’m so sorry about that. I apologize, and it won’t happen again. Ever. Never. No, sirree!”
“Good. I can’t imagine your mom would want all of her neighbors over here to see her son’s flailing noodle cruising down the street. Now, I’m going to let you go with just a warning. Only because I know how much pain this would bring your mom and how much trouble it would bring your dad. I like them both. But you, I got my eyes on you. And I prefer not to have my eyes on your peter. Understand?”
A flailing noodle?
“Understood.” I grimaced.
“Go home. Go to bed.” He patted the side of the car and left.
“A fucking flailing noodle? That was worse than what you said!” I put my head in my hands and rubbed my temples. The blood no longer pooled in my head, but my cheeks were burning hot.
Samantha silently watched me, smirking. “Victor Beaumont might get away with everything, but he certainly still pays for it.”
“Noodle,” I muttered just as the driver opened the door to let us out. “What? We’re already here?” I asked the driver, slowly putting one foot on the ground and then the other.
“Yes, sir. Have a good night,” he said, staring at the ground.
I had a feeling that he’d heard everything and that the second he got back into his limousine, he would bust out laughing and text all of his driver friends to tell them just how dumb I was. I couldn’t blame him. I would do the same thing.
“Come on, Voodoo Noodle. Let’s get you to bed.” Samantha pulled me up the steps as I fumbled with my keys and let us in. “This is definitely not on the side of town I can afford.” She sucked in her breath as we walked inside the marble entry.
“Bedroom is this way. Follow me.” I stumbled down the hall, flipping light switches along the way until I made it to the master bedroom. “Want to see just how noodly my hard-as-a-rock, overcooked noodle is?” I gyrated my hips back and forth before falling over on the bed.
“An overcooked noodle is even softer. I think I’ll pass. Get in bed, oh great Victor Beaumont.” She giggled.
And that was the last thing I remembered.
I sat up in bed and rubbed my eyes. For a minute, I had no idea where I was or what the hell was going on, but the soft breathing coming from Samantha beside me brought what I remembered of the previous night’s events back to me.
Fuck.
The damn noodle, the flashing blue lights, the police siren—all of it danced around in my throbbing head. I, Victor Beaumont, had been a hot mess, and Samantha had gotten to experience every bit of the disaster. Woe was me.
I eased my way out of bed and headed toward the kitchen. The sun was rising, and I needed coffee.
“You have such a beautiful view of Lake Pontchartrain,” Samantha said, looking out toward the sunrise.
I jumped in the air and dropped my mug on the floor, shattering it. “I didn’t know you were up! I was about to make coffee.”
She knelt and helped me pick up the ceramic pieces. We were both still wearing the same clothes we had worn last night.
“I didn’t mean to startle you. You woke me up, getting out of bed. Ever slept next to a fish out of water? That was you last night and this morning. I’ve never seen someone flip-flop so much. I got up several times to watch you and make sure you weren’t having a seizure.”
“Yeah … about last night. I’m so damn sorry. I didn’t mean to get too crazy, and I certainly didn’t mean to get the police involved. Sheesh.”
“Do you think I’m that stuck-up that I can’t handle a little fun? I had a good time last night. Flailing noodle and all. Now, if that officer had gotten on me or I’d gotten in trouble, then we would have a problem. But, no, it was just you, so I’m good with that. I might be having a little schadenfreude this morning.” She stood on her tiptoes to kiss my cheek.
“I might be having a little of that myself,” a voice called from the hall.
“Malcolm! What the hell are you doing here?” My palm tightened around the broken ceramic in my hand. “Shit!” I dropped the pieces back onto the floor.
“I was going to ask you the same thing, little brother. I heard you come in last night but figured I’d wait until morning to see who you were hiding away and banging. Now that I know you’re banging the help, who you told me was off-limits, I think I can go back to bed and rest peacefully.”
The hair on the back of my neck bristled. I took a deep breath and counted to ten in my head.
“The help? Is that how you think of me?” Samantha turned toward me and put her hands on her hips.
“No, not at all. Dickweed over here is just trying to start shit, as usual. Come on; let’s get out of here. I’ll get us a driver.”
“Already leaving? I thought we could all watch the sunrise together. You know I have some clients of my own coming over here in a little bit for a shoot by the lake, a secluded little spot I found. Maybe your employee wants to see what ol’ Malcolm has to offer?” He stepped closer to Samantha. “I pay better than Victor, just so you know. I do a lot of things better than him.”
“Fuck off, Malcolm. I’m not in the mood,” I growled.
“Fine, fine. But if you change your mind, Ms. Party Lady, you know my name. I’m all over the internet. You’ve probably even seen my websites—among other things of mine. You know how to reach me.” Malcolm turned and headed back toward his room. He slammed his door shut.
Samantha stood still with the worst case of resting bitch face I had ever seen.
“Explain now.” She crossed her arms and waited.
“You’re not the help. Those are his words, and he only said it to stir the pot and get us both riled up. After the Halloween party, he came to my office, asking about you. I did tell him you were off-limits. I didn’t want him to know what we’d done, mostly because I wanted to keep you to myself. As I said, I like you a lot.”
“That’s what you told me last night when you were drunk. You said you liked me a lot. So, that wasn’t just drunk speak?”
“Would I have mentioned it again if it was? I’m stone-cold sober and hurting with a hangover. I feel like death, but just know, I like you, Samantha Masson. So does my overcooked noodle.”
She uncrossed her arms and hooked them around me. “I like you too, Victor Beaumont. Not Phantom Man and not Voodoo Victor. I can’t believe I’m even saying this, but I like you. Now, can we get the hell out of here and away from Malcolm? I do not like him. He is how I pictured you.”
I gasped and stepped back from her so that I could see her expression and make sure she wasn’t lying. I was pretty good at reading signals. It came with the job. “Now, that’s just a low blow.”
“It’s true. I did. I thought all Beaumonts were the same.”
“Well, most of them are … and I fully admit that I’ve been an asshole-in-chief at times. But I’m trying to fix all of that because I don’t want to be an asshole, but also because I don’t want to lose you.”
“I’m here for you. Don’t make me regret this decision or …” She stuck her pointer finger out and made a swiping motion across her throat.
I knew she was joking, but I still felt a lump in my throat, and my balls tighte
ned.
Seven
Samantha
I wanted to kick myself. I had taken the first few steps back into the dating world and landed flat on my face—or actually, on Victor Beaumont’s face … in a mask … on Halloween night. And ever since Halloween night, things had been moving along quickly. We had screwed, talked, screwed, talked, and the last date, we hadn’t even screwed. This felt like relationship territory to me. I hadn’t taken anyone seriously since my ex-husband, but Victor made my world spin. I knew it was Victor who had made me dizzy, not the champagne. I hadn’t drunk nearly as much as he had.
I wouldn’t be dumb enough to be caught with my pants down. I wasn’t a risk-taker—or I hadn’t been a risk-taker. That wasn’t true anymore. Victor was a huge risk, and my dumbass was totally okay with taking him. I wanted to take him anywhere and everywhere—my mouth, my pants, my apartment.
I looked around my place and wondered if he would find it too drab for his taste. If he didn’t like the much more posh home I’d picked out in Lakeview, he would probably think my tiny apartment was an old, vintage shoebox that smelled of an aviary, thanks to the asshole birds next door.
I pushed Victor out of my mind, washed my face, and readied myself for the day. Today would be the last meeting before our circus act. Lisa, my vendors, Sara, and Victor himself would be there. I hadn’t seen Victor since our date night, but we had been texting nonstop over the last few days. He had wanted to meet up, but I’d told him I was too busy planning his extra-extraordinary event, which was true. I barely sat down these days. I’d been running around town like a maniac lately, getting the final details ready for this meeting.
I took special care to make myself presentable today. Not just presentable, but hot as fuck. I always wanted to tease a man while he worked, and today, I was going to make that happen. A little sexy time in his office never hurt anyone. It wasn’t like we hadn’t screwed there before. Secretary and boss romance was pretty damn steamy, in my opinion. I might have even watched a few videos about it recently—not Malcolm’s videos, but close enough.
I looked at my sexy secretary bun in the mirror and rolled my eyes.
“Could I be any more of a stereotype?” I said aloud to no one but me. “Yes, yes, you can, hooker. You can give him a blow job under the desk,” I answered myself.
My head was full of brilliant ideas, even in the midst of risky territory.
“Wow! Who are you fucking?” Lisa elbowed me in the side as I sat down next to her in the conference room.
“Shh! How do you know I’m fucking anyone?” I whispered back.
“Because you’re dressed with more confidence than I’ve ever seen on you, and that lipstick screams, Let’s get it on.”
I couldn’t hide my grin. I knew if this thing with Victor kept going steady, we would eventually have to tell people. I didn’t know how that would work since I was still his employee. But I couldn’t think about all of that right now. I had to focus on his event and hopefully the bonus it would pay out. Also, I had to focus on sexy time in his office because he’d drunkenly left me high and dry last weekend.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Did you ever get back in touch with that band? I have a backup plan if they don’t work out.”
“Look at you, changing the subject. Okay, I’ll play nice. But I’d better be the first person you tell when you’re ready. I need all the dirty details. I’ve been in a rut. I’m living vicariously through you!” Lisa narrowed her eyes at me.
I wanted to tell her, and I would … eventually … if it all worked out.
“The band?” I asked again.
“Yes, booked solid. They’ll be there. You still doing the tigers?” Her mouth pulled tight.
“I am. There will be lots of handlers and safety precautions. They’ll only come out when everyone is seated. I got this,” I reassured her.
“I’m just saying, I have to be here for my kids. Lord knows their deadbeat dad won’t take care of them like I do. I can’t die.”
“I got it.” I laughed.
I could smell Victor’s cologne and maybe even his pheromones before I saw him. My heart fluttered in my stomach, and my inner thighs flushed hot as soon as I caught a whiff of that seductive, leathery scent. He sauntered into the room, delicious as always. The suit and tie, the slightly disheveled yet still professional hair, the five o’clock shadow—all of him set my mouth watering.
“Good morning,” Victor said as he made eye contact with every one of us. When he looked at me, he didn’t even skip a beat—no special wink, no secret nod, no devilish grin, nothing.
Sara sidled up beside him, moving her chair closer and sharing her notes. She caught my eye and gave me a little smirk.
What the hell is that about?
“I want you all to know that I appreciate each and every one of you and how hard you’ve worked on this event. This event will be a holiday party like no other in NOLA. A quick couple of things I need to note. Costumes. Everyone will be in costumes; you know the drill. I’ve got your costume stipends with me today, and Sara here will hand them out to you shortly. Also, we might have more guests in attendance than I originally bargained for, so let’s make sure we have enough seating and food. I’ll get with you, Samantha, about that afterward.” He looked at me briefly and maybe even sternly, like the old Victor asshole-in-chief.
Sara smiled at me, sat back in her chair, and crossed her arms. A slight chill crept up the back of my neck.
“Samantha?” Victor asked.
Lisa kicked me under the table. I broke out of my trance and noticed all eyes were on me.
“Oh, yes, yes. That. All taken care of. We are all systems go.” I nodded and leaned into the table, clasping my hands together like I meant business.
Sara still stared me down. Her smile grew bigger and bigger by the moment.
“Perfect. We can discuss this in detail in my office.” He glared at me before standing up to leave. “You’re dismissed. The next time I see you all, we will be under the big top and dressed to impress. Don’t forget your checks from Sara.”
Sara never took her eyes off of me, and I never took my eyes off of Victor. The air between us three hung heavy with tension. Something had happened. I scurried off to Victor’s office to see if there was a problem.
I knocked on the open door and popped my head inside. “You wanted to see me?”
“Please, come in. Shut the door behind you, if you don’t mind,” he answered, his voice flat.
“What’s going on? Did I do something wrong? Is this about the tigers? Are you changing your mind? I told you that you’d be briefed on that. I know you haven’t been involved as much, but I promise, I got this under control.” I smoothed my skirt and took a seat.
“It’s not about the circus. Look, Samantha. Ugh. I’m sorry I had to be that way out there. I had to do the mask thing. It’s Sara. She’s such a bitch. Here, she gave me these this morning. She said it looks bad for Fleur-De-Lis. Not that she makes any of my business decisions, but maybe you can explain. I didn’t know you had a kink like this. I wish you’d told me.”
He slid a folder across the desk and watched as I opened it. I pulled out a handful of half-naked photos of me at a sex club. I’d worn a lacy mask, but still, there was no doubt it was me.
“Where did you get these?” My hands trembled as I took the pictures and stuffed them in my handbag.
“Like I said, Sara.” He leaned his elbows on the desk and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I can get rid of them. It’s not a big deal. But you should know that she saw them, and honestly, there’s no telling with her. But why didn’t you tell me?”
“Well, where the fuck did she get them?”
“I have no idea! She didn’t say. The internet?”
“These wouldn’t be on the internet. That club is strict as hell. If someone ever posted pictures from inside there, they would be immediately banned—not only from the club, but also from the swinger community altogether.”
“So, you’re a swinger?” His jawline tightened.
“No, I’m not. My ex … William. He made us go there. I never did much of anything but make out with a few men. He pushed me into that. But he … he had sex with multiple women. He used being a swinger as an excuse to cheat on me. It was okay with him because we were both there. I didn’t like it, and he knew that I didn’t like it. But I was willing to try anything to save my marriage back then. I was stupid and blind. I’d been brainwashed.”
“So, you don’t have a thing for swapping partners?”
“No. I don’t like to share.”
“Phew. Me either. Victor Beaumont doesn’t share. You’re mine.” He leaned back in his chair and loosened his tie.
“I’m what?”
“Mine.”
“Says who?”
“You? Will you be mine?”
“You just called me into your office to reprimand me for some bullshit your snotty assistant had dug up on me because she is madly in love with you and knows about us.”
“She doesn’t know about us. And I wasn’t reprimanding you.”
“She knows. Why else would she befriend me on Facebook and dig up some shit to make me look bad? She did this to your other ex even though that bitch deserved it. This one—me—doesn’t. That was an extremely personal time in my life. She had no right! If I’m yours, how can you be okay with what she did to me?”
“I’m not okay with it. I need a plan to get her to back off, is all. I haven’t had time to think about it. She gave me the photos this morning, right before the meeting.”
“I’ll handle my part, and you handle yours. Unless, of course, you want to fire me because I make your company look bad. Are you ashamed of me?”
“Never. I’m not judging you for what that prick made you do. But—”
“But what? There is no but. Everything you say before a but is canceled when you say but.”
“No … as I was saying … but … I’m intrigued. Would you be willing to go back to the club?”
“Why the hell would I do that?”