Dirty Deal

by Crystal Kaswell

  She steals a grape tomato. "It's possible I'll be in New York next year. An internship here."

  "What Blake was talking about yesterday?"

  She nods. "But I don't want his help getting it. All he did was point out the application."

  At this point, she's being obscenely defensive. I open my mouth to object.

  She cuts me off. "Did you want his help getting into Columbia?"

  "Okay. Fair. I won't offer you anything. Not even a bite of my salad." I stab a piece of lettuce with my fork.

  "You have any more shopping to do?"

  "One place."

  She raises her eyebrow.

  "You'll see."

  We chat about nothing while I finish my salad.

  Outside, the sky is blue and the sun is shining. Midtown is gorgeous—a mix of tall buildings and frosted parks.

  I turn over Blake's words in my head. There's a chance he won't be there when I wake up tomorrow, that I'll spend the entire day alone.

  Lizzy isn't going to take this well.

  I take a deep breath, adopting my most it's totally okay voice. "Blake might not be here tomorrow."

  She clears her throat.

  "He might have an emergency meeting."

  "Either he has a family you don't know about or you're lying to cover something up." She doesn't waver. "Should I spend the last of my shopping money to buy you a clue?"

  "He has a lot of bad associations with the holiday."

  She scoffs. "And?"

  "His dad was abusive, Lizzy. That doesn't heal overnight."

  "Are you happy with him?"

  "Yes."

  "Good." Her voice gets serious. "But that's a load of crap. He can't bail on Christmas because he has a few bad memories."

  I turn on Thirty-Sixth Street. The light is red and cars are whizzing by the avenue.

  Lizzy taps her toe. "He can use all his sweet words or his beautiful money, but that doesn't matter. What he does matters."

  "You've never been in a relationship." The light turns green and I step into the street.

  She follows. "I understand. He says he loves you. He promises the world. Then he leaves on Christmas." She walks in front of me. "Anything I'm missing?"

  "No." Deep down, I believe he'll be there tomorrow. I believe he'll do this for me. But what if he can't?

  "If he hates it so much, how did you get him to put up a tree?" She steps onto the sidewalk, racing into the shade. "Actually, don't tell me. Those details will scar me for life."

  She's kidding, but what if she's right? He only put up the tree after we had sex. Doubt passes through me. He was doing that for me, because I was hurting. There's no way I convinced him to put up the tree, not by screwing him.

  "Do you think about anything besides sex or computers?"

  She shakes her head. "You promise he's treating you okay?"

  "Better than okay. He's amazing."

  She stops to lean against a concrete wall. "And it's not just…" Her eyes find mine. "Don't take this the wrong way, because you're the least materialistic person I know, but are you sure it's not his money?"

  "Yes."

  "Or his amazing cock. I only assume it's amazing, but—"

  "What is wrong with you?"

  "Because I wouldn't blame you. Marry the billionaire, live the lux life, draw whatever your heart desires. You deserve the break, but you're better than lying to yourself."

  "I'm not with Blake for his money." No way am I discussing the latter point.

  "How do you know?"

  "I don't love when he spends money on me. I love when he washes my hair, when he makes me breakfast, when he holds me all night."

  "In his ten-million-dollar penthouse apartment."

  "It could be anywhere."

  She pushes off the wall, waiting for directions. I nod to the avenue in front of us.

  She walks quickly. "Does he really wash your hair?"

  "It's nice."

  Lizzy finishes her drink and tosses it toward a trash can. It misses.

  She kneels down to pick it up. Her expression strains as she stands, like her back is bothering her again. "Thank you for not adding 'when he makes me come like a waterfall.'"

  "Where do you come up with this?"

  The lingerie shop is around the corner. It's cozy with pink walls, red carpet, and oodles of adorable underwear.

  I scan the walls. "Are you having sex?"

  "Not regularly." She says it casually.

  I know my sister. She's taunting me on purpose. No way am I taking the bait.

  "As long as you're safe." I move to the next row. "When you say regularly—"

  "There was only one guy in California." She folds her arms. "One guy, one time. It was nice. I used a condom. I don't expect I'll ever see him again."

  "Great." Not great. I take a deep breath but my chest feels tight. My sister is nineteen. She's going to have sex. It's normal behavior.

  "Doesn't bother you at all."

  "Of course not." I grab a pink bra and panty set. "Just like it doesn't bother you hearing about my sex life."

  She sticks her tongue out. "That's different. I'm disgusted by the details. You want me to be your innocent baby sister."

  I admit nothing.

  "I'm going to wait outside. I love you, Kat, but I don't want to picture you in lingerie. And I really don't want to picture Blake— Ugh." She groans like she can't avoid a mental picture. "You have twenty minutes until I get bored of my smart phone."

  The bell rings as she leaves the store. I turn back to the wall, all my attention focused on finding the perfect piece of lingerie.

  It has to drive Blake out of his mind and hint at the holiday spirit. A positive association with Christmas.

  Of course, there's a chance that it will keep him from touching me, but that's a risk I'm willing to take.

  There. I find a red bra and panty set. It's peekaboo style. I try the bra on in the dressing room.

  When I check my reflection, I gasp. The red band lifts my breasts. It stops a few inches below my nipple. The straps make a triangle-shaped outline. It does nothing to limit access to my breasts. Blake won't even have to remove it.

  A rush of heat passes through me. I'm sexy and ready to be touched.

  Hopefully, I'll get to make use of the feeling.

  Chapter 8

  Lizzy and I spend a few hours on the couch, recuperating from our shopping marathon with popcorn and bad TV.

  Around eight, Blake and Fiona arrive together. He's holding takeout bags. She's holding two neatly wrapped presents and a bottle of wine. She places the presents under the tree, for us to open tomorrow.

  The takeout isn't the greasy Chinese food of my past celebrations. It's healthy stir fry from a fusion restaurant. Rich people takeout. The vegetables are fresh and crisp. The seasonings are perfectly mild. No excess of salt or sugar, just flavor.

  Conversation starts stiff but relaxes. Lizzy has nothing in common with Fiona and she's not too happy with the way Fiona tried to bribe me to leave Blake. Thank God, my sister is polite. She manages to talk about a TV show they both like.

  By the time we're on dessert—sticky rice and mango, plus sugar cookies dotted with sprinkles—everyone is having a good time. Not a family yet, but something close.

  Fiona leaves after dinner. I go to help Blake clean up.

  "I'm going to get out of here." Lizzy looks at Blake like they're sharing a secret. "Blake told me about the Sterling Tech hotel suite. It's empty and it sounds really nice."

  "Stay here."

  "It's fine. I'm sure you two need to… talk." Her eyes light up mischievously. "And other things. I'll be back in the morning. I'll bring coffee." She hugs me goodbye. "Merry Christmas, Kat. I'll see you tomorrow. You're going to love your present."

  "Goodnight." I kiss her on the forehead and squeeze her as tightly as I can. It's been miserable having her halfway across the country, but I can't deny how independent and self-assured she seems.

&n
bsp; "Do you want me to call a car?" Blake says.

  "I hate cars. But thank you." Lizzy looks at me. "He really is polite." She waves on her way out the door.

  And then it's me and Blake alone.

  This is it, time for his answer. I take a deep breath. But, before I can start, he wraps his arms around me.

  He pulls me close. "I have a surprise for you. But you can't have it until after we go up to the roof."

  I like the sound of this. "What kind of surprise?"

  "No clues." He squeezes me tighter. "Get your coat."

  We don our outerwear and climb the stairs to the roof.

  It's snowing.

  Perfect white snowflakes blow around in the wind. Better than anything I could ever draw. Better than any snow I've ever seen.

  Cold air nips at my nose and mouth. I stick my tongue out and catch a snowflake. Blake is staring at me with wonder, the way he always does. You'd think he'd be used to me by now.

  "What are you looking at?" I ask.

  "I love when you get that look in your eyes," he says. "Like you can't believe how amazing the world is."

  "Because I can't believe how amazing the world is."

  I squat down to pick up a clump of snow. There's actual powder on the roof! We never get powder in New York City. The well-tread sidewalks mean the snow melts into slush.

  Blake watches me pack a snowball. It's messier than the ones I made as a kid, but it's still completely marvelous.

  "Not everyone sees it that way," he says.

  I hold up my arm like I'm going to deck him with the snowball. He sees past my bluff. He doesn't even blink.

  "Yes, some people are cynical tech CEOs who have too much money to appreciate little things like gorgeous views and perfect snowfalls," I say.

  His lips curl into a smile. "It would be awful to know someone like that."

  "Truly awful."

  I toss him the snowball and he catches it. He stares at it like it fascinates him. Was his childhood really so awful he never got into snowball fights? A pang hits my chest. He's had such a hard life. It's a miracle that he's ever happy.

  "Don't go feeling sorry for me, Kat. I'm the happiest man alive."

  "Really?"

  He moves closer. "Every day, I get to see the world through your eyes." He leans down to press his lips into mine. "Every day, I get to wake up next to you."

  "Is it really that great?"

  "Better." He holds the snowball over my head. Then he smashes it on my hat. "And I always win."

  Oh, it's a snowball fight he wants, it's a snowball fight he'll get. "Not this time."

  I lean down to pack another snowball. Blake moves fast. He darts to the door behind the stairs, no doubt packing an armory.

  I get busy making snowballs and carry them around in my hat. I move as quietly as I can, but I can't manage to sneak up on him. He darts to the open area and hurls a snowball at me.

  It smacks my chest with a light impact. I squeal in delight. It's been years since I've done this.

  I launch a snowball at Blake. He dodges it. But he's not lucky for long. My next throw hits him right in the chest. His neat wool coat isn't so neat anymore.

  He laughs. Still the best sound I've ever heard. Still makes me feel warm all over.

  We get lost in our snowball fight, racing around the roof and pelting each other. When I'm out of snowballs, Blake tackle-hugs me to the ground. There's enough soft snow that it doesn't hurt.

  He kisses me, his tongue sliding into my mouth, his body sinking into mine. That warmth turns to a desperate, coursing heat. Even with my head pressed against the snow, I'm burning up.

  When our kiss breaks, I stare straight into his eyes. They used to be impenetrable. But I've learned how to read them.

  And they're just as filled with desire as I am.

  "Let's call it a draw," I say.

  "Rematch soon." He pushes himself to his feet and helps me up. He brings his mouth to my ear. "I hope you won't miss the snow."

  "It's going to be freezing until March. Always is."

  Blake leads me to the staircase. "Not in St. Barts."

  I turn to look at him. "What do you mean, not in St. Barts? I've seen your work calendar and there's no St. Barts on it."

  He shakes his head. "We're leaving Friday and we'll be there for two weeks."

  "But Lizzy will be alone for New Year's."

  "It was her idea," Blake says.

  "Was it her idea to leave us alone tonight?"

  He nods.

  "But last time I mentioned vacation you said that a three-day weekend was the best you could do. That Sterling Tech would fall without your capable hands at the wheel."

  Thoughts of sun and sand dance around my brain as we climb back to the penthouse floor. Blake watches me the whole time, smiling like he's sure he's got me exactly where he wants me.

  He unlocks all three locks to our apartment. "I'd rather have my capable hands on you."

  All of a sudden, I'm scorching hot.

  "But what if the company falls without you?" I ask.

  "Then it falls. You're more important."

  "Say it again."

  Blake rubs my arms. His hands stop at my shoulders and he looks me in the eyes. "You're more important than anything, Kat. Even my company."

  "Even…" I hold his gaze. "Does this mean you'll be here tomorrow?"

  "You'll have your answer in two minutes." He points to the bedroom. "Follow me."

  Chapter 9

  December 25th, Christmas

  According to the clock on the microwave, it's 12:05. I'm so anxious waiting for Blake's answer that it registers slowly. It's Christmas.

  He pulls me into the bedroom. Not the sex room/extra guest room but the bedroom where we sleep every night.

  It's transformed, decked in holiday adornments that are very, very Blake. Red silk sheets. A plush striped comforter. String lights hanging from the walls.

  And mistletoe right on top of the headboard.

  Blake enters holding a neatly wrapped present. It's about the size of a shoe box. Shiny red paper. Soft white bow.

  "But," I take a deep breath, "you hate Christmas. You can't put it in your bedroom if you hate it."

  I turn and stare into his eyes. They're soft. Like he's happy.

  "You were right. Running away didn't help. It only gave my father power over me." His expression softens. "It's terrifying, but I have to face those memories if I want to move on. I do want that, Kat. I want to share all my life with you. Even the parts that hurt."

  "Every single part?"

  He nods. "You really have no idea what you do to me."

  "How could I do anything to you?"

  "You've given me the world."

  What? If anything, he's given me the world. I shake my head. "But you're—"

  "Rich?"

  I nod.

  "There's more to the world than money." He runs his fingers over my cheek. "Before we met, I spent all my time in my office. I was so desperate to stay in control that I wasn't open to anything that wasn't my way. But you…you've showed me how beautiful the world can be. You've forced me to open myself to that."

  I swallow hard.

  "Do you remember when we went to Paris?"

  "Of course. We spent more time in the hotel than out of it."

  "True." He smiles. "It wasn't the first time I'd been to Paris, but it was the first time I enjoyed it."

  "Because we were—"

  "No, Kat, though I adored the part in the hotel room. It was because it the first time the city seemed beautiful."

  "But, it's Paris. How could it not be beautiful?"

  He pulls me close. "How did I get so lucky to have you?"

  "But it is beautiful. How could you see it otherwise?"

  He offers no explanation. He doesn't have to. I remember the Blake I met last spring. The world was something for him to control. He didn't see it as beautiful. He didn't see it at all.

  Blake steps back. "I have
a present for you."

  "Those are supposed to wait until tomorrow."

  "You won't want to open this one in front of your sister." He pulls a wrapped box out of the dresser and hands it to me.

  I unwrap it slowly. It's an unmarked box. Inside is a sleek velvet pouch. I study Blake for a clue. His expression is demanding—the look he gets when it's time for him to take control.

  My breath strains. My hands are totally unsteady as I open the pouch. It's a vibrator. Heavy. Silver.

  Oh my God. It's actual silver. Sterling silver. I almost laugh. Blake Sterling bought me a sterling silver vibrator.

  It must have cost a fortune.

  His eyes find mine. "Don't worry about the price." He shifts into the arm chair across from the bed. "The show I'm about to get is worth every penny."

  Tension builds between my legs. He wants to watch me. We've never done that, not like this.

  "Put it on the bed," he says.

  I hesitate.

  "Kat, do you want to do this?"

  Hell yes. I nod.

  "Good. Now set the vibrator on the bed."

  I do.

  Blake's eyes are glued to mine. "Take off your sweater. And your jeans."

  I shimmy out of my clothes. I'm wearing nothing but a tank top over the peekabo red bra and panty set.

  Blake's eyes scan my body. They stop at my chest and my crotch. Seems that my present to myself is working just as well on him.

  His breath hitches, but he stays planted firmly in the chair. "Take off the top."

  I pull it over my head. His eyes go wide. He's looking at me like he wants to consume me, like the sight of me is enough to take him all the way to the edge.

  His gaze goes to my bra. "Did you buy that today?"

  "Yes."

  "I like it."

  "Thank you."

  "Turn around, so I can get a better look."

  I turn slowly. My cheeks flush. A hint of nervousness rises up in my chest. Then Blake groans and it all melts away. I'm not nervous or shy or anything but desperate to reveal myself to him.

  Whatever he wants to see.

  Back to my original position, my eyes meet his.

  Heat passes through me, collecting between my legs.