Man in Charge, Book 1

by Laurelin Paige

  Staying awake meant my brain was awake. With the euphoria wearing off and the lust sated, I began to think things I shouldn’t think. Began attaching meaning where there was likely none. Clearly, Scott wanted me as much as I wanted him. The chemistry was undeniable, but was it possible there could be more? Did he want there to be more? Was there already more?

  He came back from the bathroom with a washcloth and very gently cleaned me up, another gesture that had me fluttering with the possibility of more. This was the act of a lover, not a player. What did it mean?

  When he was finished, he put one knee on the bed and kissed me, then he pulled me to my feet. This was more like it. This was when he’d give me the I had a good time, now here’s money for a cab speech.

  Instead, he wrapped his arms around me. “I’d really like it if you’d stay the night.”

  “Well, I was half asleep when you yanked me out of the bed.”

  “So I could get you under the covers before you were out completely.”

  “Oh.” Having reality turn out to be pleasantly different from my expectations was not something I was used to. “Okay. I’ll stay.”

  “Good.” He pulled back the comforter and held it up for me to crawl in. Then he turned off the light and slipped in next to me, spooning me from behind.

  Now, with the lights off and his arms around me, it was harder to stay grounded. It was harder not to believe I could mean something to him, that I might mean something to him already; beyond a fun thing to do on a Friday night, that was.

  “Scott?” I hadn’t spoken loudly, but my voice felt big in the darkness. “Why didn’t you want to give me the spiel earlier? The don’t get attached, this is all just for fun spiel?” I really needed to hear it at the moment.

  He paused so long that I thought he’d fallen asleep. I was pretty close to slumber myself.

  “I think…” he said finally, my eyes startling open. Silence followed. Then, “I really, really like you Tessa Turani.”

  I stopped worrying right then that I’d lose my heart to the guy.

  I realized I already had.

  Nineteen

  “You’re awake.” Scott watched me from the doorway to his bedroom. He wore nothing but a pair of sweats, but if you asked me, he was entirely overdressed.

  “Barely.” I sat up with a yawn. My body felt like it could use another couple of hours, but my soul felt rested. “Might be doing better if that’s coffee you’re holding and if you’ll let me steal some.”

  He approached me, his hand outstretched. “It’s for you. And here’s your phone. It kept buzzing while I was grinding the beans.”

  I set the phone on the bed next to me without looking at it. The smell of the fresh roasted coffee was all I could think about at the moment. Well, that and the too-perfectly-sculpted-to-be-real man sitting on the edge of the bed next to me.

  “Just like I like it,” I said after taking my first sip. I’d possibly go so far as to say the best cup of coffee I’d ever had, but while it was a damn good blend doctored up to my liking, the “best” part of it might have had more to do with Scott.

  “One cream, two sugars. I pay attention.”

  I was impressed. And flattered. Also a little suspicious. What kind of guy pays attention to a girl’s coffee preference? The kind of guy who knew how to use that information to do bad deeds, was who. Those were always the men who moved on quickly.

  I was feeling too good to be concerned about that at the moment. “I’m surprised. You were always so wrapped up in your phone in those meetings—well, besides the times you were drilling me down. I wondered if you had a Clash of Clans addiction.”

  “Mostly I traded stocks. A little gambling to keep my mind off how much I wanted to strip you naked and lay you out on that conference room table.”

  So I hadn’t been the only one with those fantasies.

  The smile I gave him must have told him what I was thinking because he took the cup out of my hand, set it on the nightstand, and leaned in.

  I leaned away. “I have morning breath.”

  “I don’t care.”

  Neither had I when he’d woken me up in the middle of the night for a second round. Nor had I cared when the third round occurred earlier that morning when the sun streamed in the window and he’d gotten up to shut the blackout curtains.

  Eh. Fine. I wouldn’t care now either.

  “You taste like coffee,” he said after a kiss that had my blood stirring.

  “You taste like pussy.”

  He smiled against my mouth, then turned his attention to tugging the sheet down to expose my breasts. Then my belly. Then my everything.

  I resisted the urge to curl into a ball and hide, and instead fed his hungry gaze by stretching out and giving him a show, my well-used muscles protesting as I did. “You were right when you said I’d know if we’d had sex.”

  “Is that right?” He ran his tongue around one spired nipple, then crawled down lower.

  “I definitely feel fucked.”

  His cocky grin said that he felt more than pleased about that fact, and considering that he followed up that smile by licking his tongue around the bud between my legs, I had a feeling I was close to being fucked again.

  My phone buzzed from the mattress next to us, reminding me of its presence. Honestly, I was surprised it wasn’t dead. I picked it up to move it to the nightstand, glancing at it as I did, and then realized I was fucked in a totally different way.

  In the plethora of texts and missed calls from Kendra—her actual cell instead of a restricted number which didn’t bode well—one message stood out from the others. I’m on my way home.

  “Shit!” My heart pounded as I flipped through the texts one by one that had started at the ungodly hour of seven a.m.

  To my parents’ home, I mean.

  I need you to meet me there.

  Should I book a train for 2 or 5?

  I booked the train at 5. Check your email. You can stay the night.

  IMPORTANT: I need you to bring one of my purses.

  I’ll just call to explain which one.

  Missed call from Kendra.

  It’s my red D & G purse. I’ll send a pic.

  The next text was a picture of the purse snapped from the internet.

  I need THAT specific purse.

  Text me to know you got this.

  Missed call from Kendra.

  Missed call from Kendra.

  WHERE ARE YOU?

  The doorman knocked at my place and you didn’t answer. I texted Tey. She said you didn’t stay at home. Are you okay?

  DO I NEED TO CALL THE POLICE, TESS? WHERE ARE YOU? I’M WORRIED.

  “Shit, shit, shit, shit, SHIT.”

  Scott peered up at me from between my legs. “That wasn’t quite the reaction I was going for.”

  I was crafting a reply, so quickly that I’d already had to start over twice. “Sorry,” I said. “I have to go. Like…” I paused my typing to look at the time. Almost half past eleven. Shiiiiitttt!

  And I had only eleven percent battery left.

  “Now. I have to go, like now.”

  Just woke up. I’ll call you in ten. I read over the reply quickly before sending it then threw it on the nightstand and scrambled out of bed to find my dress. And my shoes.

  Correction, Kendra’s dress and shoes.

  Fuck. I was fucked. At least she wasn’t already back in the city, but chances were pretty good she’d want to return to NYC with me tomorrow, and I wasn’t ready. There were dirty dishes in her sink. I needed to straighten her apartment and pick up the dry cleaning.

  Shit!

  I had no clean clothes at her house since I’d been borrowing hers, which meant I had to stop by my place in Jersey City to pack an overnight bag.

  Then, fuck again!

  I had to figure out how to tell her about the deal with SIC. And since I was probably going to get fired after that, I should make sure I didn’t leave anything at her apartment that I would
n’t be upset about losing forever. All before catching a train at five.

  I had the dress on and zipped and had found one sandal, but the other eluded me. I picked up the comforter we’d thrown to the floor sometime in the night. Not there. Looked under Scott’s shirt. His pants. “Have you seen my shoe?” A gleam of gold stuck out from under the curtains. “There it is!”

  “Is running out in the morning a pattern with you? It’s Saturday, so I know it’s not church.”

  Fuck. Scott.

  And not in the good way, but in the I have-to-deal-with-him-too way. When I very much wanted to be doing rather than dealing.

  I could always ignore Kendra. I could stay and spend the day in Scott’s bed. I could tell her my phone was dead. If she fired me, well. She was probably going to fire me anyway.

  But there was the DRF. And the contracts hadn’t been signed. If I wanted the deal to go through, my best chance was to get on Kendra’s good side.

  I slipped on a sandal and turned back to Scott, sitting on the edge of his bed, looking at me with those blues eyes, and I had all the feels, and there was a good possibility that things between us would blow up soon, so despite my time crunch, I put on my other shoe and made my way over to stand between his legs.

  I ran my fingers through his beard. “No. Not a pattern. I’m sorry. It’s…” I stopped myself before I said my boss. “A work thing. Another client. Something’s come up, and I have to get on it immediately.”

  He wrapped his hands around my thighs and pulled me in closer so he could nuzzle his head between my breasts. “Immediately, immediately?”

  Oh, whoa. He was doing that teasy thing he did with his mouth that made the fabric of my dress rub against my nipple in the most divine way. Which made my pussy start to clench and my thighs tingle and my clit pulse.

  The train wasn’t until five. I could spare a few minutes, right?

  “Well…” My phone buzzed on the nightstand. Probably Kendra’s reply. And shit. I’d said I’d call in ten. “Yes. I have to go immediately. I’m sorry. Really sorry.” Sorry for so many things, actually. Like lying about my position and what I was to Kendra and for dropping the guard around my heart.

  With a disappointed frown, he ended the breast torture but still kept his arms wrapped tight around me. “At least tell me when I can see you again.”

  After the truth came to light, he wouldn’t want to see me.

  Or...maybe he still would? If I came clean before it exploded in my face. Maybe he’d understand. Maybe I could actually hold on to him. Not that a woman could ever hold on to a player forever, but for a little while longer at least.

  “Tomorrow night?” I should be able to get away from Kendra by then.

  He seemed appeased. More than appeased. Delighted, even. “I can make reservations somewhere.”

  My stomach flipped. I couldn’t bear the idea of being dumped in a five-star restaurant. Not that we were together enough to be dumped. Whatever. I much preferred to do my truth bearing in private.

  “You know, I’m perfectly happy with another evening spent here. I’m easy.” I leaned into the innuendo, hoping it distracted him from any signs of my anxiety.

  “Ooh. I like the sound of that. I could spread you out naked on my dining room table, and I could feed you sushi while I feed on you.”

  “You wouldn’t even have to have the sushi.”

  “Have I mentioned lately that you’re perfect?”

  “Not in the last hour.” I pressed my mouth to his, slipping my tongue between his lips when I had no business rousing him up like that. Or me. But kissing him was like a drug, and once I started…

  My phone buzzed again.

  Fuck. “I really have to go. I’m sorry.”

  Pulling away was hard, and I suddenly understood why Cinderella had lingered so long before running out of the ball. I related to her—a peasant in disguise, parading around in a world I didn’t belong in. She’d had to run away. That was the only reason she’d finally been able to make her feet move when she’d so badly wanted to stay.

  Her prince had found her. Mine had too, the first time, without even having a shoe.

  Her prince hadn’t cared who she was in the end.

  Would mine?

  Twenty

  “Thank God,” Kendra exclaimed when I called her on the way to the elevator. “You were really beginning to freak me out!”

  It was a thoughtful gesture, worrying about the friend who hadn’t come home, but I was a hundred percent convinced she was only freaking out because my absence would have been an inconvenience to her.

  “Sorry. I slept in and forgot to plug my phone in last night. I’m only at ten percent right now, so if I lose you, that’s why.”

  “I’ll say you slept in. It’s almost noon.”

  I really didn’t need her judging me at the moment. “So the five o’clock train?”

  “Yes. Did you get the ticket?”

  I moved the phone away from my face so I could check my email. “Yep.”

  “And you have my parents’ address?”

  Of course I had their fucking address. I was her assistant. I had all the important deets. Not to mention, I knew her parents. I sent them an annual Christmas card. I’d been to the house myself on several occasions.

  “Yep.” I bit back the real response I wanted to give. “I’ll be there with an overnight bag and your purse. Anything else?”

  “Nope. But make sure it’s the right purse. The one I sent a picture of.”

  “Got it.”

  “Can you take a picture of it so I know you have the right one?”

  Oh, for fuck’s sake. Did she trust me with nothing?

  She wouldn’t let it drop until she saw the purse, I knew that from experience. I wasn’t going to admit that I wasn’t currently at her house, not after I’d suggested I’d just woken up there. Fortunately, I’d just stepped in the elevator, and the call dropped.

  Good. I’d pretend my battery died and send her a pic when I got to her apartment.

  As soon as I was out of the elevator, though, I called Tey.

  “Help!” I said in lieu of a greeting.

  “I got the text from Kendra, so I figured shit is up. Spill it.”

  I went outside and hailed a cab while I caught her up, grateful that the clouds overhead hadn’t burst because getting a cab was impossible in the rain, and I was not wearing appropriate attire.

  Safe in the car on the way to Kendra’s apartment, I should have felt calmer, but instead I only felt worse about everything. “It’s all going to crumble down, Tey. It’s a house of cards, and Kendra’s going to find out, and Scott’s going to hate me, and the DRF won’t be chosen for sponsorship, and Sarah won’t give me a job, and Scott is definitely going to hate me.”

  “You already mentioned the last one.”

  “It’s important enough to mention twice. Were you not listening when I said last night was fucking incredible? And he likes me. He said he likes me! He doesn’t mean it, does he? It’s just a line, isn’t it? I’m being played, aren’t I?”

  Yeah, I was beginning to unravel.

  “Calm your tits, girl, and breathe.” She was best-friend-good at pulling me together. Even though I was usually the one coaching Teyana through POTS-induced panic attacks, she’d had her fair share of talking me down as well, which was embarrassing considering how my anxiety was most often centered around a stupid-hot boy.

  “Okay. I’m breathing,” I said in between breaths.

  “Now listen to me. Sure. He might be playing you. I saw the way he looked at you that night at the opera though, and the character he displayed did not seem likely to say shit like that if it wasn’t true.

  “But this is not the time to figure that all out. Now is the time to focus on Kendra, and I know she can be a bitch of a woman to deal with, but she’s also a genuinely kind-hearted person who means well, and I would bet money she’ll understand if you are honest and upfront. Focus on that tonight. Tomorrow deal wit
h the boy.”

  Right. Right. That had to be the plan.

  “Did you just say nice things about Kendra?”

  “I did. Don’t tell anyone. And I mean them. She’s not an asshole. And she’s going to care about making things right with the DRF, which means honoring whatever you’ve already started, and she cares about you. So she’s going to be hurt, but she’s not going to kick you to the curb.”

  Something in my gut said that Teyana was probably right. She’d spent so much time hating on Kendra—we’d spent so much time hating on Kendra—that I’d convinced myself she was worse than she was. “She really does care about us, doesn’t she? Why do we rag on her so much?”

  “Because we’re jealous, and she’s privileged, and she hurts us a lot more than she realizes or means to. And because it’s what girls do.”

  I felt bad about that. Mostly I felt bad that in all of this going behind her back, I hadn’t considered she’d be hurt by it. Probably because considering it meant that I’d feel the way I did now. Like shit.

  “Remember you were trying to do something good for the DRF,” Tey went on, seeming to sense my self-loathing over the mobile network and wanting to make me feel better.

  Actually, I’d been just as focused on doing something good for myself. But thinking about that right now only made me feel worse, so I dismissed that bit of truth from my mind.

  “That’s why I have to pull this off. For them.” For Tey.

  “And you will. Do you want me to come with you to Greenwich? For moral support?”

  Yes. “No. I’d never put you through that.”

  “You’re running short of time, though. I could pack a bag for you and meet you at Kendra’s and help clean.”

  “No fucking way are you cleaning her house.”

  “I’ll meet you at Grand Central then.”

  “You’d be down for the rest of the weekend after that kind of excursion.”

  “I’d do it for you!”

  “I know, and I’m not letting you.” Especially if I wouldn’t be there to help take care of her afterward.

  She gave a frustrated sigh. “Then I’ll have your bag packed for you so it can be a quick in and out.”