“And what the hell is that?”
Daniel smirks as he leans over his intercom and presses the button. “Carla, we're ready now.”
“Alright, Mr. Cross,” she says, her voice holding a slight crackle as it comes out of the speaker.
Daniel's eyes instantly jump to the door, so I turn in my chair to look. The door opens slowly, and my heart jumps into my throat. I can't think straight, I'm excited and shocked all at once.
Holy shit. . .
It's her.
Rubbing my eyes, I'm not sure if I'm still drunk and dreaming, or if I'm really sitting here, face to face with her.
“Phade, meet Sylvia Fontain.”
The shyness I saw in the club is still there. She isn't looking at me, her eyes bounce around the room as her fingers twist nervously around each other. She looks stunning. The form fitting fifties style dress hugs her curves, belling out at the bottom. The black fabric is covered in red roses and her scarlet heels make her dangerously sexy.
Perking in my seat, I give her a little wave. “Hi there.” I can't stop the grin that's spreading from ear to ear, or my heart from beating a little bit faster.
Never in my wildest dreams did I think I'd see her here. Yet, here she is, standing two feet away, nervously rocking in place like a kid giving a presentation in front of the whole class.
Pushing up from his chair, Daniel walks to her and pulls her in for a hug. “Sylvia is going to be the reason you stay sober, Phade; to keep you out of those bars, to stay on the clear and narrow. My step-daughter here, she's exactly what you need,” he says, glancing at me over his shoulder. “You two are about to get engaged.”
Our eyes connect, hers grow large like saucers as my jaw drops open.
I have no words. Because I wasn't sure I heard him right.
He couldn't have just said what I think he said. . . Could he?
Engaged?
4
Sylvia
His eyes are dark and bold, with gold flecks that burst when the light skims across the surface. I feel them all over my body as he gazes up at me from his seat. The temperature must drop ten degrees, because why else would my nipples harden and goosebumps prickle my skin?
Flashes of our night together are rolling through my head. His smile, his cologne, his strong arms, the way he made it so easy to say yes, when I really should have said no.
I can't even bring myself to look at him directly. My eyes drift over his briefly and my cheeks flush instantly. The memories shift to dirty touches. His hands on my hips, his lips on my neck, his cock deep in my pussy. All of it comes flooding back, making my heart kick against my ribs like a caged bird trying to escape.
I can't breathe. Fuck, I can't breathe.
Focusing on the air coming in and going out, I force the thoughts away of how big his dick is, of how I'd love to feel him inside me again, and how hard I came as he buried himself inside me.
Just breathe, don't think about it.
Don't focus on his washboard abs, and how his tongue was warm as he licked the nape of my neck, causing goosebumps to explode all over my skin. Don't focus on his hands and how they felt as they slipped up my thighs, teasing my pussy.
Shit. . .
Not focusing isn't working. My thighs are slick with arousal as it drips, making my panties wet and warm. I've never been this wet before from just thoughts, it's insane.
Phade is still staring at me. I don't think his eyes have left me once since I walked in, and I can't help but wonder if he knows he's doing this to me?
Does he know I'm wet for him right now?
From the corner of my eye I see him smirk as the tip of his tongue peeks out ever so slightly from behind his lips. My cheeks are hot, and I know the blush is making its way down my neck.
I never meant to sleep with him. That was never my intention. I went to the club just to watch him from a distance, to get an idea on who he really is, so I know how to approach this whole engagement thing.
And for some unexplainable reason, he found me in the crowd. Of all the girls, of all the other possibilities he had to choose from, Phade came to me—me.
My muscles quiver as a ghostly shadow of his touch slips down my spine. I almost moan, but I stop myself, holding it in the back of my throat and swallowing it.
I can't let him get to me. It was casual sex, people do it all the time.
Now it's business. Period.
From here on out, it has to be about changing his image. Nothing else. I want to run the PR department more than anything, and it's important for Daniel to see me taking charge.
Before setting foot in Daniel's office today, I promised the celibate gods that I would be good, that I wouldn't let myself stumble again. There will be no more getting sucked into Phade Manson.
“I'm turning this over to Sylvia,” Daniel says, pushing his hands into the top of his desk. “Phade, she's in charge now, whatever she says, you do. Maybe if you listen, you'll still have a contract here in the future. I don't want to cut you, but I will if you don't pull your head out of your ass.” Tapping his knuckles on the wood, he walks out of the room, leaving me alone with him.
A small piece of me, that little girl that still exists inside, is screaming for him to stay. I don't trust myself alone with Phade. And I'm not sure I trust him either.
I've got this. It's fine.
Taking in a deep breath, I pull the binder out from behind my back and take Daniel's seat. I still can't look at Phade, so I open the binder and keep my eyes down.
“So I don't know what Daniel told you already—”
“Ooh, right down to business, I like it.”
Glancing up, I smile politely. “Phade, this isn't a joke, I hope you know that. Daniel's serious.”
Relaxing back, he slouches, resting his knuckles against his chin. “So am I. I like a woman who knows what she wants. Just like you knew what you wanted last night.”
Softly, I dab the open binder with the tips of my fingers. “We need to just focus on this. I have it all figured out. The ring, our history, where you can pop the question so the media can take it and run with it. I'm going to help you fix this mess and keep your job.”
Running his thumb across his bottom lip, his eyes circle my face. “Tell me. . .” Pausing, his gaze shifts, moving down my chest, then licking its way back up. “How is it that a girl like you, gets to tell me what to do?”
“Excuse me?” I'm not sure what he's trying to say exactly. But the way he says it causes my throat to dry and my heart to hammer. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Why couldn't a girl like me be his boss? Does he have something against women in charge? Does it bother him if he has to take orders from a girl?
Thinning his lips, he grabs a pen out of Daniel's cup, and spins it in his fingers. “Daniel is your boss, and your step-father?”
I give him a single nod, arching a brow in curiosity. “Yes, not that you don't already know that. But he's also your boss, and he told you to do what I say.”
“Does he know we fucked last night?”
“What?” Scoffing, I shake my head. “No, I didn't tell him that, I would never tell him anything like that.”
That wasn't supposed to happen, that part was a mistake.
“How do I know you're not just lying to me? Maybe that's why he's doing this. . .” Playing with the pen, he points it in my direction. “Maybe you're the reason for this?”
“Me? You think I'm the reason for all this? How could I be the reason for all this, when you're the one in the paper?”
His smile thickens as he bites the end of the pen and lowers his lids. He isn't speaking, he's just staring at me. There's something in his eyes, an intensity, a palpable feeling that's blanketing my body and giving me chills.
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I look down at the binder and smooth my hand over the first page. “I won't be blamed for anything. You made your bed, now you have to lie in it.”
Chuckling, Phade's hand
s slide down the tops of his thighs. “I can think of a few things I'd like to do in bed with you, but it wouldn't be just lying there.”
“Phade, we're not doing this.” Flipping a finger between us, my expression is hard. “Last night was a mistake. Period.” My eyes drop to the binder and I push my fingers against the paper. “Today I am here to help you fix your image. That's what we need to focus on, only that.”
“Is it bad that I'm getting turned on from this? You giving me orders is hot as hell.” Phade stands from his seat, his eyes lock on mine as he walks around the desk. “Sylvia. . . I never would have guessed that was your name. I tried to imagine what it might be, but Sylvia never made the cut.” His thick, long legs bring him to my side in three steps. “Sylvia, Sylvia—” he repeats my name, adjusting his pitch higher and lower.
“What are you—”
Cutting me off, he leans over the desk on his forearms, keeping his eyes on my face. “I like it, it's nice to have a name to go with your face. When I jerked off earlier, I didn't have a name for you, now I do.”
My cheeks light on fire, and my mouth goes dry, making me cough.
He got off thinking about me?
The thought excites me, making me even wetter than I already am. The warmth mixes with the cooling arousal as I shift in the chair trying to calm the throb between my legs.
All right, enough of these games. It's time for business. We can't screw up a single detail, or the entire thing is ruined.
“Look,” I say, closing the binder and folding my hands on top. “I'm good at what I do, and I can tell from what I saw last night that you're not far from losing it all. If you want to keep your little red Ferrari and your Gucci shoes, and have it all by doing what you love, then you need to listen to me. Otherwise—”
“I don't own any of that kind of shit. I like to spend my money, but not waste it.”
Pressing my lips into a tight line, I keep going where he cut me off. “It'll all be gone, Phade. All of it. So, my suggestion for you is to keep your pants zipped and your fists tethered to your sides unless you're in the ring. Understood?”
Smirking, Phade tilts his head, reaching out to gently stroke my wrist with his index finger. “Are you sure you want me zipping my pants, because the sounds you made last night tell me you liked it.”
A cold sweat beads up the back of my neck as my blood starts to bubble and my pussy clenches with need. My clit is throbbing, causing me to wriggle in my chair. A wave of warmth spreads across my face, and I know he can see the fire on my skin.
Licking his lips, his smile grows as his eyes darken with lust. “You're wet right now, aren't you?”
Taking in a deep breath, I clear my throat and jolt up out of the chair. “You know what, Phade, these games of yours are going to come back to bite you in the ass. I'm trying to help you so you don't lose your job, but all you can think about is sex!”
“Sweetheart, I'm not the only one thinking about sex. I know what's running through your mind, I can tell by your rosy cheeks, and the way you keep shifting in your chair. Your pussy wants me—fuck, you’re craving more right now.”
Picking up the binder, I hold it tightly against my chest and snarl, “Get over yourself, Phade Manson, it wasn't that good.” Pushing past him, I storm out of the room.
I'm a liar. I lied right to his face. I lied about how good he felt inside me. I lied because he pissed me off.
Phade needs to take me seriously, he can't keep bringing up what happened. I need him to really listen, or it won't just be his ass on the line, mine will be right there with him.
But damn, was that man good at turning me on. His voice gives me chills, the richness of his tone makes my body hum and my heart hammer inside my chest.
He was really fucking good. And he knows it. He doesn't believe me anyway.
My pussy pulses as desire pools in my panties making it hard to ignore. Every inch of my body is fighting against me. My brain wants to forget the guy and just focus on work, but my pussy is begging for more.
The arousal seeps through my underwear, making my inner thighs slippery and warm. I can't ignore the feeling brewing inside me. It's raw, it's overwhelming, it's going to drive me insane unless I do something about it.
Glancing side to side, I check over my shoulder and see the hall is empty. Slipping silently into the bathroom, I deadbolt the door and rest back against the cool brick wall. I don't want to do this, but I know I'll never be able to focus unless I do.
The only way to get Phade out of my head, and to stop the reaction my body is having, is to just give in. Let it win this time, and then I'll be able to control it.
Working my hand up my skirt, I slip it into my panties and start to massage my clit. I'm soaking wet, dripping to the point it's like a puddle between my legs.
Closing my eyes, Phade's face instantly jumps into my brain. The pad of my finger starts to swirl against my clit. I think about how his lips felt on mine when we were dancing, and how his finger felt as he slipped it inside my body.
My own finger slips in easily with that thought. Starting off slow, I move my finger in and out, up to the last knuckle and out to the very tip. Plunging back in, I turn one finger into two.
Faster and faster I finger myself, rubbing my clit as I pull out, applying more and more pressure and then driving back in. A fuzzy warm feeling spreads up my body, and across my stomach. Biting my lip hard, I drop my head back against the wall, and pinch my eyes tighter.
My pussy tightens around my fingers as the heat keeps moving, turning into tingles that liquify my insides. Moaning softly, I hold my fingers against my clit and let the orgasm work its way through my body.
The feeling fades away, and I'm left with this weird sensation I can't quite understand. I feel good and satisfied after giving myself that release, but I also feel betrayed by my own body.
I want to be in control of my body all the time, and with Phade, I feel like that control gets torn from my hands.
Opening my eyes, I look up at the ceiling and sigh.
I'm so screwed. Phade Manson is going to be my downfall.
5
Sylvia
After a long night of restless sleep with my mind running wild, I open my eyes, not knowing exactly how I'm going to get Phade to conform to the picture perfect version of the man Daniel wants to see.
Daniel wants something I might not be able to deliver.
Phade needs to behave, no more fighting unless he's in the ring. He needs to stop drinking and partying. He needs to stop hopping from bed to bed and settle down. And somehow, I have to pull that person out of this guy.
I have to take this version and make him something he's not.
How the hell am I going to do this?
Groaning, I roll onto my side and stare out the window. My step-father's thrown a wrench in my world. This isn't going to be easy.
Phade isn't a man who likes to take orders—he's a man who likes to give them. The problem I keep coming back to in my head is how the hell can I control him, when I can't control my own body around him?
The thought of Phade Manson makes my heart speed up and my pussy throbs. Every image when I close my eyes is of him taking control of me, of him working my body, and making me melt with just his touch.
Stop! Stop thinking about Phade the man and start thinking about Phade the fighter.
Phade the fighter isn't the guy that fucked me in the bathroom. He's not the man who touched me softly, making the hair stand up on my arms and my thighs quiver with need. Phade the fighter works for Daniel. Phade the fighter is my new project.
Fuck! Why can't this project be something easier? Clutching my head, I gently tug at the roots, and run my hands down my cheeks.
I know that he's going to test my limits. He already tried at the office yesterday, and I know he isn't going to stop there. He's a man who's used to getting what he wants.
Phade is more than just a mountain I need to conquer, he's a beast I need to tame.
Pushing up in bed, I decide to just head to work early. Maybe a little time looking over the plans will help me figure out the best way to approach Phade.
I don't think he truly realizes what's at stake here; his career, his money, his title—his name, all of it will be stripped from him as if it never existed to begin with.
That should be enough motivation.
Grabbing the first outfit I see, I put on a pin straight black skirt, with a silky white blouse, and purple heels. Pulling my hair back, I spin it into a tight bun and pin it place. Splashing my cheeks in light pink blush and rolling on some lip gloss, I look quickly in the mirror one last time, and head out the door.
The ride to work is quiet. I leave the radio off and just drive in silence. There's enough noise in my head as it is, and not much room for anything else.
Punching the code into the keypad, the gate slides open and I park my car. The lot is basically empty, except for a few vehicles that I assume are maintenance. The building is still dark and dormant. It's a little strange to not see it bustling like a hive at mid-morning.
The giant glass door closes behind me as I enter the building, and the sound travels in every direction. Standing still for a moment, I let the room fall back into silence before heading toward the elevators.
Hitting the button, I look up and watch the lights as they pop on for each floor. I keep looking over my shoulder into the lobby, the silence louder than all the voices in the world. It's odd to realize that chaos soothes my mind, but quiet makes it roar.
Glancing to my left, I see the sign for the stairs and decide to take them instead. Moving into the stairwell, I grab the railing and start to head up the steps, when something stops me.
Big Bad Boys: A Romance Collection Page 27