by RB Hilliard
Zane.
In the back right corner behind the bar, catty cornered from where I sat, was an open doorway. Leaning against the frame staring straight at me was Zane. I could tell it was him by the shape of his body and his cocky stance.
“Are you driving tonight?” Blake shouted at me over the music.
Caught with my hand in the cookie jar, I swiveled back around and prayed the dim lights hid my flaming face. “I am,” I quickly answered. He gave me a questioning look and I smiled. Thankfully someone shouted for a beer and he turned to serve them. Whew, I was off the hook. Cake by The Ocean began playing and I tapped my foot to the beat of the music.
A few minutes passed before Blake made it back to me. “So, how are things at Riverbend?” he asked.
“They’re good. I really like the people who live there, well, most of them,” I added.
“Miss Weston?” he asked, and we both laughed. I started to ask if she and Zane were a couple but someone shouted for a beer and the moment was lost. While Blake was busy with customers, I took in the scene around me. Pretty soon my eyes wandered to the back corner again. Zane was standing in the doorway again. I think he’s watching me.
“Want another?” Blake asked. I swiveled around so fast I nearly lost my balance and fell off the stool. “Whoa, easy there, Sis, maybe you should stop at two,” he teased.
“Ha, ha funny,” I responded. Trying to act all nonchalant, I asked, “Sooo, do you have an office here?”
“Yep, offices are back there,” Blake pointed to where Zane was no longer standing. “Why?”
“Just curious,” I shrugged. The whole time Blake and I were talking Sally was watching us with a scowl on her face. I got the distinct impression she didn’t like me very much. A commotion at the opposite end of the bar caught our attention and we all turned to see what caused it. From the looks of it, Hunter had knocked over a wine bottle and was trying to clean it up. When he saw us staring he smiled and waved. Then he shot up from the floor so fast he lost his balance and almost fell back over.
Once he steadied himself, he bellowed, “Shots of tequila on me!” Everyone sitting at the bar cheered.
Hunter Lake was a cutie pie. He wasn’t as tall as Zane or as muscular as Blake but was blonde, tan and cute in a surfer boy kind of way.
“Kitty Cat! You’re here to party with us!” he shouted. Hunter was also apparently very drunk. “Shots for Pussy Cat!” he shouted.
“No shots for Cat, she’s driving,” Blake sternly informed him.
“That’s okay, Cat can stay here with me tonight,” Hunter replied. Blake turned to give him an earful when out of nowhere the bar went dark and the music stopped.
“Yay eighties!” Hunter shouted. The bar cheered again. I had no idea what was happening. A spotlight appeared over the dance floor and the crowd roared. INXS’s Never Tear Us Apart began playing and the spotlight changed from solid white to a blue strobe light. Couples flocked to the dance floor to slow dance. I started to stand up but it was dark and I couldn’t see anything so I decided it was better to remain seated.
I searched for Blake but all I could make out were shapes and shadows. Something brushed against my left arm and the hairs on the back of my neck stood at attention. Someone was standing behind me. I could feel them there but couldn’t see them. My heart raced in my chest. Somehow I knew it was him. I gasped as fingers lightly traced up my arms and across my shoulder to my neck. Hot breath whispered across the side of my face and I tried not to shiver. It smelled like whiskey and something I couldn’t quite place.
“Hunter likes eighties music,” his deep voice said against my ear, “The crowd seems to as well, wouldn’t you agree?” My pulse thumped frantically under his fingers. Why does he affect me like this? I could feel him pressed against my back. My breath hitched. Oh my God, is that his…? Surely not? I was the absolute last person Zane Mitchell would be attracted to. I had to know, though, so I slowly dropped my elbow and rubbed it back and forth across his… hard cock. Oh God, I was right! My heart raced in my chest. Zane’s hand on my neck suddenly tightened and then it was gone. I turned to look but he was no longer there. In Between Days by the Cure started playing and the blue strobe turned multi colored. The bar lights suddenly flickered back to life and I could see again. Once my eyes adjusted to the light I scanned the bar area for Zane. He was gone and I felt his loss.
Blake caught me looking around and asked, “You okay?” I assured him I was fine. After a minute or so I glanced down at my watch and noticed it was just past eleven. If I was going to retrieve my marching orders by nine the next morning, I’d best be going.
“I need to get rolling,” I announced.
“No! Kitty has to stay and play with me!” Hunter yelled from across the bar. I tried not to flinch.
“Cathryn has an early day tomorrow,” a voice behind me stated.
I whipped my head around and there, standing directly behind me wearing black dress pants, a royal blue button down shirt and a dark gray sport coat, was Zane. His tie had been loosened and his collar was unbuttoned. Sporting some major facial scruff, the man looked rumpled, rugged and amazing. Realizing I was staring at him, I jerked my head back around and smiled at Blake. He nodded to Zane in understanding, and that was that. I was going home.
After saying goodbye to everyone, Blake insisted on walking me to my car. I looked for Zane but he was nowhere to be seen. I waved to Sally as we passed by and she gave me a head nod. At least it was something.
By the time I got home and in bed it was after midnight. I fell asleep thinking about Zane’s breath on my neck. I was horny but too tired to do anything about it tonight. There was always tomorrow, though.
…“Trust me, Mr. Brass, you are going to love these.” With a smile on my face I handed him the marijuana brownies laced with arsenic.
Bang! Someone slammed a door.
I was falling….falling….falling. Right as I hit the ground I jerked awake.
“Oh shit, oh shit,” I panted. For a second I had no idea where I was. Then reality hit. I was dreaming. I glanced over at my bedside clock and focused in on the bright green numbers. Two fifteen. Did Mr. Brass eat those brownies? No, I don’t think so. I relaxed back into my bed and started to drift back asleep, when I heard a strange thumping noise. Placing my hands on the wall above my head, I felt around for the vibration. Sure enough, there it was.
Bump, bump, bump…
It sounded like the beat of a drum. I yawned. If I don’t get back to sleep, tomorrow is going to be hell to pay.
Bump, bump, bump….
I closed my eyes. I shouldn’t have had that second green drink.
Bump, bump, bump…
It’s awfully late to be playing music.
Bump, bump, bump…
What was that eighties song with the boxer? Rudy? No, Rocky.
The bumping noise continued and I sang along. Being that I didn’t know most of the words, I improvised. “Rising up back on the street. Took my arm and my chances. I bet Rocky had seriously stinky feet, but he’ll fight for the will to survive. It’s the Eye of the Tiger la-la-la-la-la-la,” I quietly sang.
Hours later when my alarm went off I groaned. I should play hooky today. Knowing my luck Zane had my apartment bugged. I wouldn’t put it past him. I mulled over last night and what happened when the lights went out. It wasn’t my imagination. Zane was definitely sporting an erection. My mind wandered back to the day I spilled coffee on him and he jumped from the bed. When I got an eyeful of his giant penis I almost passed out. Slowly, I slid my hand inside my panties and rubbed my fingers over my clit. I imagined Zane smiling down at me as he crooked his finger and beckoned me to come a little closer. He growled in approval as I crawled across the bed to where he was standing. I could see his erection tenting his pajama pants, the same pajama pants he had on when he snuck into my room and watched me doing Ploga yesterday. Once I reached him he lifted me in his powerful arms and gently laid me back on the bed.
; “You have no idea how much I want you,” he growled.
My spine arched as I worked myself into a lust-filled frenzy. Planting one hand flat on the bed beside me, his other hand went straight to the waistband of his pajama bottoms. He yanked them down and, like a beast needing to be freed, his giant cock sprang forth.
“Inside me now!” I commanded.
Right as he thrust inside me I shouted my orgasm. As I lay there panting in the afterglow, I let out a hollow laugh.
“That did not just happen,” I announced and, before I could over analyze it, got up and readied myself for the day.
At nine on the dot I let myself into Zane’s apartment. Please don’t let him be here, I thought. As I hit the bottom of the stairs the kitchen door opened.
Crap! He’s here! I frantically looked around for someplace to hide.
“You’re late.”
“Shit!” I screamed, and swung my head around to see Zane standing at the top of the stairs behind me. If Zane was at the top of the stairs, who was in the kitchen? Half a second later a woman stepped out and my question was answered. I was rendered speechless.
“Lydia, this is my assistant Cathryn. Cathryn, this is Lydia,” Zane politely introduced. Lydia was tall and beautiful with her long dark hair, flowy dress and bare feet.
Her eyes skimmed over me and landed on Zane, who was now standing beside me. She smiled a knowing smile and in a ridiculously sexy voice said, “I made you coffee.”
I instantly hated her.
“Thanks, babe. I’ll get it in a few. Right now I need to talk to Cathryn. How about I call you later next week?” He was clearly brushing her off. I tried not to smirk. She frowned. Uh oh, wrong thing to say, Zane.
She shot me a scathing look before giving Zane a big, fake smile. “Last night was wonderful. Don’t wait so long between calls this time,” she purred.
My middle of the night sing-a-long came back to me and I fought back a gag.
Eye of the Tiger my ass.
Chapter Eight
Zane
‡
Cathryn had been avoiding me all week. It shouldn’t bother me but it did. As I lay in bed staring at the walls, I thought back to last weekend. I shouldn’t have touched her like that. What was I thinking? It was like I was possessed or something. If Lydia hadn’t been waiting for me when I got home, who knows what I would have done. Lydia. The woman was relentless. She had called every day since that night. What is the deal with clingy women? The look of shock on Cathryn’s face when Lydia walked out of my kitchen was priceless. When the shock turned to hurt I felt bad. I have nothing to feel guilty about. Cathryn is my employee. The fact that my plain Jane PA has curves in all the right places and is annoying but intriguing is irrelevant. She is my best friend’s stepsister and off limits. I have absolutely nothing to be guilty about, I repeated in my head for the thousandth time. So why am I? This is exactly why I don’t do relationships. Women always want something and they expect men to just figure it out. Fuck that. Tossing the covers off, I got up to get dressed.
On my way downstairs I thought of how to get back into Cathryn’s good graces. We had to work together. I did not want discord. I’d had enough of that in my life with Mom and Ted. I did not need it with my PA. I hit the bottom step and stared at my overflowing laundry basket. I should probably move it back upstairs, or maybe I should just give in and do my own laundry for a change. It was so much better when Cathryn did it, though. She made my clothes smell good and feel extra soft. The load of underwear I washed mid-week smelled funny and made my balls itch like crazy. I had to excuse myself from a meeting so I could go take off my fucking underwear. I picked up the basket and then changed my mind and set it back down. Maybe I’ll give it a few more days.
I checked my watch as I walked into the kitchen. I had thirty minutes to figure out a game plan. What if I call a truce? I would give Cathryn the day off, except I needed her too much. After making myself a pot of coffee I crossed into my office to finish the daily list. Then I stared out the window and waited.
At nine on the dot I heard the front door open. A few seconds later Cathryn appeared in the doorway. In a pink silk blouse, black skirt and heels, she was perfectly attired for a business meeting. Shame washed over me. I am such a dick.
When Cathryn spotted me sitting at my desk, she stopped short. “I’m not late. The key wouldn’t turn,” she defensively explained.
“Come in and have a seat,” I told her.
“My six months aren’t up yet,” she blurted. By the time I mentally caught up with what she was talking about she was off and running. “And I know you want me to deal with Miss Weston but she only wants to deal with you. She made this more than clear to me on several occasions.” She did this cute little head tilt thing and said, “For your information, it’s really hard to deal with someone who constantly dismisses you and, since you’re the one in a relationship with her, don’t you think it’s only fair you be the one to handle her? I think so. Seriously, Zane, the woman had the audacity to shush me the other day. Mrs. Reed stopped by and, as I was walking her out, Miss Weston was standing outside your apartment with a cup in her hand!” She leaned forward and whispered, “She was listening through your door. You may call that foreplay but I call it downright creepy.” Finally, she wound down and was quiet.
I didn’t know which topic to address first, so I started at the beginning. “Please sit.” Once she was seated I spoke. “First of all, I’m aware your six months aren’t up. I wasn’t going to fire you.” Her shoulders slumped with relief. “Second, you are aware Miss Weston is old enough to be my mother?” She blinked but didn’t otherwise respond. I raised my brow in disbelief. “You honestly think I’m sleeping with… Miss Weston?” Her face flushed bright pink and I couldn’t help but laugh. “What in the hell made you think that?” I managed to ask through my laughter.
“You…she…you,” she sputtered. Then she shrugged, “I don’t really know. She made it clear you were hers. I just thought….” her words trailed into silence.
“Miss Weston likes to torment me. This is why I asked you to intervene.”
“Oh,” she mouthed.
I told her about the time Miss Weston invited me to dinner and put her bare foot in my crotch while we were eating. I also told her about the first time Miss Weston asked me to help her find her glasses and tried to stick her hands down my pants.
“She told me she could make little Zane feel like a perky pickle.”
When Cathryn let out a snort of laughter I knew I had her. After a few more stories we were both laughing. I watched her cheeks flush and her blue eyes light up and I wondered how I ever thought her plain. She may not have Beth’s inherent beauty but she had a quiet dignity about her and it called to me. The image of her sitting at the bar the other night with her bare legs, red lips and sexy heels flashed through my mind. Okay, it more than called to me. Too bad I could never answer that call. As our laughter died down I decided it was a perfect time for a truce.
“Look, I think we got off on the wrong foot. How about I make you breakfast and we set some new parameters. I promise to keep my feet to myself,” I joked.
“I’d like that,” she responded with a big smile.
I held up my coffee cup and tried not to grovel. “Would you please make some coffee?”
She stood and smiled down at me. Something deep inside stirred, and it wasn’t my dick. It was something much more substantial. Cathryn’s eyes twinkled with amusement as she took the cup from my hands. “I would tell you my secret ingredient but then I would lose my leverage.” Her laughter followed her out of the room. The more I was around her, the more I liked her. This was dangerous, very, very dangerous. With a shake of my head, I followed after her.
Breakfast was a hit. I made us parmesan, mushroom and red pepper omelets. At the last second I threw in some Canadian bacon. Over coffee and omelets we got to know each other a little better. Cathryn told me about the first time she met Blake and how quiet he
was. I informed her that her stepbrother was far from quiet and she laughed.
“How did you meet Blake?” she asked.
“We were stationed in Belgium together,” I told her.
“Was it scary over there or fun?”
“It was a little of both, actually. My time in Belgium was mostly fun, though. In fact, that’s where Blake and I came up with the idea for Whisky’s.”
She smiled. “Tell me about it.”
I told her how off duty, our favorite place to hang out was a night club called Das Verlies. The English translation was The Dungeon. Das Verlies was broken into two parts. Upstairs was a pub and downstairs was a nightclub. The two had separate entrances, played different music and catered to completely different clientele.
“Blake and I spent many nights drinking and partaking in everything the place had to offer and, believe me, there was plenty. We also spent time talking about building a place in the States just like it,” I explained.
“So how did it become a reality?”
“Well, my mom died and I had to come back for the funeral.”
“I’m sorry, Zane.”
With a nod of thanks, I continued, “The day after the funeral I was offered Riverbend. I couldn’t refuse. Anyway, once I had Riverbend under control, I started feeling restless. I needed something to keep me busy and the idea for the bar came to mind. My attorney at the time got me in touch with a realtor and she found me Whisky’s.”
“How did Blake come into the picture?”
“The second I signed the papers I called Blake. He was possibly more pumped than I was about it. With the aid of a computer on base, he helped me draw up some rudimentary plans. Like Das Verlies the bar would be split into two parts. Upstairs would be a rooftop bar and restaurant and downstairs a nightclub. Since it was my father’s money that allowed me to purchase the place Blake suggested I name it after him. Riverbend was my dad’s but this place was one hundred percent mine, and I already had the perfect name for it…Whisky’s.” When Cathryn glanced down at her empty plate I could tell story time was over. “Look, you were right,” I admitted, “twelve hours of business wear is a bit much. I still want you here at nine but I’m good if you want to dress more casual.”