by M. S. Parker
“What do you remember from yesterday?”
I ran a hand through my hair, sending droplets of water raining down on my shoulders. “Um, not a lot. My friends came over…no, wait, that was Tuesday. Yesterday. Right, Wednesday. I remember you being here. We talked. It’s all really fuzzy.”
“That’s all?”
Shit. “Did I do something? If I offended you, I’m sorry–”
“No,” she said sharply. “We talked. I put you into the closest bed I could find.”
“That’s a guest room,” I interrupted with a frown. “Did I move into my room at some point?”
“Yes. Sometime late last night, you…” Her voice trailed off and even with her back to me, I could see that the tips of her ears were red, but I didn’t think it was because of me and the towel this time. “I put the bed linens in the washer, along with your clothes. Once I cleaned you up and put you in your bed, I called a cleaning company. They’ll come do a deep clean on the mattress whenever you want.”
Heat rushed to my face. “I’m sorry about that. I should’ve known better than to finish vodka on an empty stomach. I can usually hold my liquor better.”
She turned around but refused to look at me as she held out a plate. “Yeah, well, no one can hold that much liquid that long.”
I took the plate, set it on the table, and then froze as I realized what she’d said could have meant something completely different than my original thought. I closed my eyes. “Please tell me that I didn’t piss the bed.” She didn’t say anything, and that just made it worse. “Please tell me that I didn’t piss the bed like some kid and you had to clean up after me.”
“Don’t worry.” Her voice was dry. “I’m billing you for everything.”
I hung my head and wished this was a dream. “And here I thought I’d already hit rock bottom.”
I felt a hand on my arm, and I jerked my head up, my eyes meeting hers. There was a hint of humor in those blue-green irises. “Don’t worry. Your confidentiality agreement with my company completely guarantees my silence.”
“Yeah, that doesn’t really make me feel any better.”
She took a step back, the humor falling away. “Let’s get some coffee and food in you, then we can talk.”
I didn’t like the sound of that. The talking. The other stuff actually sounded pretty good.
After I’d gone back to my room to put on pants – and a shirt – I returned to the kitchen and took a seat at the waiting plate. I took a few bites of bacon, and then asked, “Did I do anything else I need to apologize for?”
She didn’t answer, which made me think there was something she didn’t want to tell me, and considering what she’d already told me, I couldn’t imagine what would possibly be–
Her hair was like silk against the back of my hand, her skin almost as soft. My thumb found the hollow behind her ear as my fingers curled around her neck and pulled her toward me. This was a bad idea, but I had to know what she tasted like, what her lips felt like. My mouth came down on hers, and it was like nothing I’d felt before. Heat and electricity, all of it narrowed down to a single point of contact. And then she had her hands in my hair, her body pressing against mine. Fuck, those curves…
My hand tightened around my coffee mug. I wanted to believe that I was remembering a dream, but my body told me it’d really happened. It remembered better than my head what it had felt like to have her in my arms.
“Paige, I am so sorry. I was out of–”
“The drinking needs to stop,” she said briskly, acting as if she hadn’t heard what I’d been trying to say. “Not just cut back, but actually stop. No more alcohol until I say it’s okay.”
That got my attention. Not because of the drinking, but because she thought she could actually give me an order. Aside from my mother, no one told me what to do. It actually made me smile.
I stood up and picked up my now-empty plate. “What if I don’t want to stop?” I turned toward her, actually curious to hear her answer.
Her eyes narrowed as she closed the distance between us. Even though I was dressed, she kept her eyes on mine. She was as close as she’d been before, when I’d kissed her, but I had a feeling that if I tried that now, she’d probably slap me. Or bite me.
That last thought shouldn’t have sent blood rushing straight to my cock.
“I was hired to do a job, Mr. Union.” She put her hands on her hips. “This is how the job gets done. This is how I save your image.”
Her eyes were sparking, showing me that I hadn’t imagined her fire. I wanted to reach out and touch her, see how she’d respond. She was strong, stubborn, independent…all of the things that should have turned me off as a Dom. Even with vanilla sex, I needed the control, the challenge.
Paige was definitely a challenge.
“If you’re not willing to do what I ask, then maybe we need to find someone else to take my place.”
Hell no. This was just getting interesting.
“Maybe I just need the right incentive,” I suggested. I gave her a slow, thorough look, letting myself see all the things my subconscious had registered before.
Damn.
“What do you say, Paige? I do what you ask, and I get rewarded?”
Ten
Paige
“That’s not how this works, Mr. Union. I think it’d be best for everyone if I spoke to my boss and had someone new take over.”
That was what I should have said. I’d gone above and beyond the call of duty with him. I’d spent more than a day taking care of him, and that was so far out of my job description that I could make a case to Sybil to drop him completely as a client. I had a degree in public relations, not babysitting or housekeeping. No offense meant to anyone who worked in either of those fields. I respected the hard work it took to take care of kids and homes. But this wasn’t my home, and Reb was definitely not a kid.
I’d seen that for myself. Not that I’d doubted his masculinity before, but now I had visual proof burned into my mind.
He’d been half-conscious when I’d stripped off his clothes and cleaned him up. Not awake enough to have a coherent conversation, but enough that I wasn’t trying to move him around on my own. I told myself over and over that it was no different than helping my mom bathe my grandfather after his stroke, but…no, it wasn’t the same at all.
And I couldn’t get the memory of those amazingly defined muscles and that long, thick–
Dammit.
This wasn’t the time or the place for me to be ogling a guy, and it was never the time or place for me to ogle a client. I wasn’t immune to the fact that Reb was gorgeous, but that wasn’t the point. Nothing was going to happen between us. Nothing could happen between us.
And I preferred it that way.
Which meant I needed to take back control of the situation before it got any further away from me than it already was.
“If you have anything planned for Saturday, cancel it.” The expression on Reb’s face told me the direction of his thoughts, and I mentally cursed myself for not being more put off by it. My irritation at myself came out in my next statement. “You’re doing charity work.”
“I am?” He didn’t seem annoyed, but rather amused.
“You are.” I did my best to keep from returning his smile. The fact that I was torn between wanting to kick him or kiss him didn’t make his grin any less infectious. I took a step back to put some distance between us, but it didn’t stop me from being able to feel the tension between us, the very thing I’d felt before we kissed. That couldn’t happen again.
No matter how much my mouth still burned from just the memory.
“That’s your brilliant PR plan? Have me do a little charity work, and all will be forgotten?” He shook his head. “I thought you were smarter than that.”
My temper flared, and I crowded into his space, glaring up at him. “Just because you’re paying–”
Before I finished the sentence, I saw the corner of his mouth twitch and re
alized he’d been intentionally goading me.
Asshole.
“Look,” I snapped. “This isn’t going to be some ‘one and done’ thing. The shit may not have hit the fan until recently, but you’ve been spiraling for months, and everyone knows it. It’s going to take more than one Saturday picking up litter if you want to move beyond ‘paid your debt to society’ and on to salvaging your image as a good guy.”
“You think I’m a good guy?”
I sighed. He wasn’t going to make this easy for me. “Fine. You do what I tell you to do, and do it well. In return, I’ll make sure you get something for your troubles.”
He grinned. “Then I put myself in your hands.”
I tried to think of the most bland, platonic way to take that statement. “I’ll send you a text with the time and place tomorrow.”
Then, before he could see me flustered, I excused myself and left. I needed to get home anyway. I needed to have a good meal, and a good night’s sleep, especially since I’d be working over the weekend. I told Reb the truth when I said the company would be billing for the time I’d spent, but a little voice at the back of my head wondered if I’d have stayed even if that hadn’t been possible.
By the time I arrived home, all of my frustration from the past week had coiled into a tight ball in the middle of my stomach. Going into public relations, I’d known that I’d be asked to work with people I disliked. While not all clients were people in trouble looking to smooth things over, there were enough that I knew, sooner or later, there’d be someone I found distasteful.
Except, if I was honest with myself, I didn’t actually dislike Reb. He got under my skin in a way that no one else had been able to, and I didn’t like that, but if I’d met Reb under different circumstances, we might have gotten along. I still wouldn’t have dated him, of course, because I was sticking to my life-long resolution to avoid romantic entanglements with people in his line of work.
I reheated some take-out and wrote myself a note to pick up some groceries on my way home from work tomorrow. My supplies were looking a bit sparse. I didn’t have the time to cook myself dinner every night, but I tried to get at least a couple home-cooked meals a week.
I ate standing up, tidying up the kitchen as I went. I moved on automatic pilot, making mental lists of all the things I needed to do tomorrow to get things set up for Saturday. I had a couple ideas of places where Reb could do community service, so that was the first thing to get settled. Once I did that, I could leak information to the media. I didn’t want to give a direct invitation to news outlets, even though most of them would guess a PR firm of some kind was involved. That’s just how things worked, especially when the client was in the entertainment industry.
One of the interns at the firm had an uncle who owned a huge construction company that often worked with Habitat for Humanity. I’d check there first to see if they had any projects this weekend that Reb could work on. The press would have a field day with pictures of him lifting things, hammering…sweating…
“Dammit,” I muttered the curse as I put away the last of the dishes, but I couldn’t chase away the images that came up, one after the other.
Reb wiping his face off with the bottom of his shirt, showing off that flat, tight stomach, and the trail of golden brown hair that disappeared under the waistband of his pants. Jeans that hung low enough on his hips that I could see those amazing v-grooves. Pulling his shirt over his head to reveal rippling muscles and tattoos I wanted to trace with my tongue…
Fuck.
I needed a shower. A cold shower. Now.
But when I went into the bathroom, I changed my mind. I needed to get rid of this tension, and it was getting late. I could combine cleaning up with getting some relief, and maybe that would even get Reb out of my head. I had to focus on correcting his image, not that amazing body of his.
As I washed, I tried to pull up one of the fantasies that had worked for me in the past. A hot model I’d seen on a billboard. A favorite character on a television show. A completely imagined man who knew exactly what to do with my body.
But every single one of them morphed into Reb, that smirk on his face and heat in his eyes. So I gave up and closed my eyes, letting my imagination wander even as my hands did the same.
I ran one hand over my breasts, fingers teasing my nipples as I imagined the rough callouses on his fingers scraping over my skin. His lips moving down my throat, teeth nipping at me until I knew he’d left little marks. My free hand went between my legs, moving over the thin curls that covered me until my fingers reached my clit. I circled the already throbbing bundle of nerves, thinking about how he’d touch me there. Rough, hard passes until his mouth soothed me. Just the right amount of suction.
It was the thought of looking down and seeing Reb’s head between my legs, tongue and fingers driving me toward orgasm that undid me. The muscles in my body tensed as a small cry escaped me.
Even as the release eased the tension in my body, I couldn’t help but think that I’d made a mistake.
Eleven
Reb
What the hell had I been thinking? She worked for me – sort of – and I’d been teasing her. Flirting with her. It hadn’t really been a conscious decision on my part, but that was no excuse. I’d been completely unprofessional.
I snorted a laugh. I’d been drunk pretty much from moment one with her. She’d put me to bed, cleaned me up when I pissed myself, then put me to bed again.
I’d kissed her, for fuck’s sake. My flirting was low on the list of unprofessional things I’d done with her, and it didn’t even register on the list of stupid shit I’d done lately.
Hell, it hadn’t even really been flirting.
No, that was a lie. I might not have said anything overtly sexual, but I’d meant it. She was beautiful, the sort of woman that men would stare at as she walked by. That women would hate on sight alone. That anyone remotely attracted to women would fantasize about.
It was more than physical with her though.
When it came to women who looked like her, some honestly didn’t know they were beautiful, some pretended not to know, and some used their beauty like a weapon. Paige was one of the rarest kind though. The kind of woman who understood her physical appeal, but made certain it wasn’t the most important thing about her.
She was smart, clever, the kind of quick wit that startled and surprised. Hell, it’d gotten a laugh out of me more than once. And she had a steel backbone, more guts than most people, and I wanted to know what it would take to make her submit…
“Knock it off.” I said the words out loud because I thought it’d make a difference, but it didn’t. I just kept on thinking about Paige, and the way those eyes of hers had flashed when she’d gotten in my face.
What color would they turn when she was aroused, I wondered. Something like the ocean, I imagined. Not like the pure blue coasts in the Caribbean, but rather something deeper, darker.
Then there was that blush. Her skin was so fair that she couldn’t hide it, and I wanted to know what it was like to see it spread over her entire body. That wasn’t the only color I was interested seeing on her either. Another form of red and pink appealed to me. My handprint on her ass. Stripes from a flogger and crop.
Now that I’d let my mind go there, I didn’t want to stop imagining. If I was going to stop drinking, I needed something else to take my mind off of things and thinking about how Paige would reward me this weekend would definitely do the trick.
I sat down on the couch and leaned my head back, closing my eyes. I could picture her immediately. Every line and curve of her face. I shouldn’t have been able to see her so clearly, but there she was.
And I could just imagine what it would be like to have her smile at me as she knelt in front of me.
“Hands behind your back,” I ordered.
She immediately obeyed, the position pushing her ample breasts out even more. Her nipples, a pale, delicate rose color, were pinched between a set of
clamps, but no discomfort showed on her face. All I could see was a desire to please. To please me.
“Open your mouth.”
She parted her lips, and I reached out to brush my thumb across her bottom lip. I’d kissed her, bitten the soft, plump flesh, but now I wanted her lips wrapped around my cock.
I gripped my shaft in one hand and buried my other in her hair. “Look at me.”
I waited until our eyes met and then slid my cock into her mouth. I groaned as the velvet heat enveloped me. It didn’t matter how many times she did this, it was always like heaven.
She let me guide her head, offering no resistance as I made her take me deeper and deeper. Her breathing was harsh, mingling with the slick, wet sound of her mouth on me.
“Do you want me to come in your mouth?” I asked, my voice tight. “Or on your face?”
I cursed as I fisted my cock faster, the pressure inside me building with each stroke.
“You choose, my Paige,” I said as I pulled back far enough for my dick to slide free. “Where do you want me to come?” I asked again. “Mouth? Face?” Each suggestion made a pulse of lust go through me. “Tits?”
Her breathing hitched. “Wherever you want, Sir.”
I shook my head. “No, Paige, I want you to choose. Where do you want me to come?”
The words were barely a whisper. “Inside me, Sir.”
“Say that again,” I growled.
She squared her shoulders and spoke louder. “I want you to come in my pussy, Sir.”
“Fuck!” The word tore out of me as I climaxed, spurting over my fist and onto my shirt. I was a mess, but the pressure inside me was gone. For the first time in months, my head was clear.
Well, that was unexpected.
Twelve
Paige
Considering the guilt that had swept over me after I’d gotten off while fantasizing about Reb, it was probably a good thing that Habitat for Humanity didn’t have anything going on at the moment. I wasn’t sure I could take an entire morning of watching Reb doing construction work and be able to control myself.