by Lindsey Hart
Silence swirled in the room after Lexi’s big speech. The only sound was her rapid-fire breathing. He couldn’t and wouldn’t let her see that she’d rankled him. She hadn’t really. Her words were far from that hurtful. He’d heard much worse over the years.
She could hurl that shit at him all day if she wanted to. She was even hotter when she was mad. He liked the blush riding high on her pale cheekbones, liked her flustered and flushed. Liked her lips parted as she pants for air. He had a feeling she’d look like that in the throes of pleasure and that made his cock ache inside his jeans. He wanted Lexi. She might not know it, but she wanted him too. Or, she would. Soon. His cock kicked up, paying homage to the idea.
He gave her a slow clap, applauding her for having enough courage to stand up to him at all. “I don’t think that’s the truth. I think that’s a jaded view. And I don’t think you’re being honest with yourself.”
“Oh really?” Lexi crossed her arms, which just served to push her already full breasts sky high. He didn’t even bother tearing his gaze from them. Just spoke to her chest like the asshole she obviously thought he was.
“You know nothing about my life. So, you might have read some shit on the internet. Congrats on being literate, but I have to say, I expected you to have more than half a brain and not believe everything you’ve read.”
“Why would I need to look anything up? I have the real deal to handle every single day. In the office or not, I’m still running around for you all day long. I know exactly what your life is and who you are.”
“And here I thought that’s what you were paid to do. I’m sorry you think so low of me just because I’m too busy to handle booking my own flights or do my own dry cleaning. If you think I should magically make time while I’m trying to run a multi-billion-dollar company that employs over three thousand people world-wide, just say the word and I’ll make it happen. You can go find employment somewhere else, seeing as your job would then be redundant. I’ll give you a good reference, though. Don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll find some other insufferable asshole to pay you thirty bucks an hour.”
Lexi stared daggers at him, nearly literally, since his insides twisted at the cold hatred in her eyes. “I knew if I finally spoke up and said something that you would fire me. Way to prove me right. Just so you know, I’ll be suing for wrongful dismissal as soon as I can.”
She spun on her heel, a cloud of sandy hair and rage. Curtis was on his feet before she even had a chance to clear the living room. He flung a hand out, grasping at air. His fingers did brush her arm though and that light as silk whisper brought her up short. She practically thrust her arm into his hand when she whirled, and his fingers closed like a vice around her wrist. She hissed at him like a badger caught in a trap. She was all pissed off wrath and righteous indignation. She was a spitfire and he wanted, selfishly, to harness that energy and keep it just for himself.
“Who said anything about firing you? I was just saying. Hypothetically. You were the one that brought it up. I was trying to inform you that while you might think I sit on my ass and do nothing all day and that I was just handed this company without doing anything to earn it or better it, it’s not entirely true. End of story. You’re not fired. I’m always going to need an assistant, because the truth is, I am too busy to take care of all the things you do, and you do it well. I was actually just making a point.”
“If that point is that you’re not an asshole, you’ll never be able to argue that.”
“Where do you think you’re going anyway? You agreed to stay for the weekend.”
“I was going to a different room. Away from you.”
“Great. We’ll just have to agree to disagree.” She tugged at her wrist and he reluctantly uncurled his fingers from her scalding, soft, silky skin. He wanted, instead, to travel his fingers up her arm. She had on a short sleeved pink blouse and her black work pants. She’d come right from the office and still managed to be late.
“You can’t agree to disagree if you don’t even know me. You’re just making foul assumptions based on the bad feeling you had of me before you even started your job.”
“I never had any bad feelings before I started working for you. I actually don’t believe everything I’ve ever read or heard. You weren’t even on my radar.”
“So, I am now? Good to know.”
“Look…” Lexi took a step back, putting some much needed space between them. Much needed on her end. One day, and one day soon, she’d be stepping towards him, not away. “I’m not going to back out on this because of those kids. They obviously need me here. Whatever you are as a boss, you’re definitely the world’s worst uncle. They need someone to intervene. That’s the only reason I’m here. The. Only. Reason. We should have as little contact as possible, because I do find you obnoxious and I’d rather not say anything else, considering you’re my boss and it’s only going to get us into trouble. Plus, my mom taught me right. She told me if I didn’t have anything nice to say, not to say anything at all.”
“How very diplomatic of you. Well then, if you don’t want to talk to me, let me tell you that your room is down the hall, second door after the kids’ room.”
“Great.”
Lexi turned on her heel, heading in the exact opposite direction. Of course, Curtis trailed after her. She wasn’t wearing perfume or any scent that he could pick out, which made sense seeing as she came right from work and unlike him, she respected the scent free policy. He couldn’t exactly peg what it was. He figured it was just her, the scent of her skin and her clothing, her shampoo, her deodorant. It was intoxicating as fuck whatever it was. Heady. Female. It went straight to his dick and his already blue balls turned another shade bluer. If someone tied an elastic band around them, there would probably be less damage done.
“Where are you going? Your room is the other direction.”
She didn’t turn. Didn’t give him the slightest indication that she’d heard until they were standing in the kitchen and she was rummaging around in the bottom cupboards.
“I’m looking for something to clean your stupid wall with. You know, because a little poop is world ending for you. Don’t even bother responding back to that. I already know that you would never stoop to get your hands dirty.”
“Sounds like more assumptions.”
She straightened, her baby blues on fire, doing crazy things to his insides. Fuck the elastic bands around his nuts, they were suddenly up in his stomach.
“Well, if I’m wrong, then tell me now and I’ll give you the pleasure of cleaning it up.”
Curtis almost winced. She wasn’t wrong. He wasn’t going to give her the pleasure of letting her know that though, so he grinned back, giving her the classic James smirk that never failed to irritate anyone who wasn’t melting all over the floor at seeing it. Lexi definitely wasn’t in the latter category. She did indeed have a vagina and most beings with one weren’t immune to his charm. Then again, she wasn’t most beings. There wasn’t anyone on the planet like her, he was sure. He’d spent three years, ever since he damn well hired her, waiting for the right time. Or a time that was rightish. He was pretty sure it was finally happening. She was in his house. She was so freaking close. He wasn’t going to fuck this up. He’d wear her down and he’d make it fast.
“Pleasure’s all yours this time since you’re so keen on it. The cleaning crap is in the pantry over there. Not under the sink.” He pointed at the glassed-in door at the far end of the kitchen before he turned on his heel and walked out chuckling just loudly enough that he knew she heard it.
Lexi wasn’t the kind of woman who was easily won over with bullshit like flowers and chocolates. No. Lexi Wellington was much more complicated. She was the kind who had to hate someone before that feeling morphed into something else. Clearly, she wanted to spar. He was only too happy to step into the ring with her.
CHAPTER 5
Lexi
When Lexi was a kid, she used to get in trouble for exaggerating all th
e time. Her teachers, her parents, even her brother and her sister all got sick of her wild stories. She was bored a lot of the time and she made up stories to entertain herself. Okay, some of them were fibs too. She used to use one particular expression all the time. That she hated or loved something with the passion of a thousand burning suns. It wasn’t a special phrase. Lots of people used it. Probably still did.
The point was, lying in yet another monstrous king bed with sheets that were too soft and slippery probably because they had a massive thread count and because the house was just the right temperature even though it was July and hot as heck outside, she loathed Curtis James with the passion of a thousand burning suns. Heck, a thousand didn’t even begin to cover it. More like a million. Or a billion. One sun for each of his dollars. Fuck, that might be two billion suns or more. She didn’t actually know. She’d never actually looked up how much James was worth.
And she was not about to check at past two in the morning. But sleep was elusive. The bed was too soft. The sheets too slippery. The windows in all the wrong spots, the coverings so airtight and well-fitted that they didn’t let in so much as a whisper of streetlight. The house didn’t have any strange humming noises. There weren’t even any foreign smells. It was much more of a luxurious guest room than any hotel she’d ever been in. Maybe that’s why she couldn’t sleep. It was too nice.
She missed the familiar scratch of her sheets at her apartment. Missed her firm mattress with the slight sag on the right-hand side. Missed the buzz of the fridge drifting down the hall, because it was on the verge of giving up on life. She missed the abstract noise of her neighbors above, below, and to the sides of her. Missed being too warm and kicking off all the sheets because she didn’t have AC. She missed cranking up the window, sans screens because her building was old as balls, and letting the fresh night air play over her sticky skin.
Lexi flipped onto her back. She stared at the ceiling, white and featureless above her. The light fixtures hanging down were square and modern. There was no light in the room, but she could make it out since she’d been lying there for so long in the pitch black.
She kept telling herself that her inability to sleep had nothing to do with the TFB sleeping in the room next to hers.
Nothing with a capital N O T H I N G.
She’d heard his steps, around midnight, retreating to his room. She’d held her breath and waited, tense in the bed. Unfortunately, she could tell his room was right next to hers. She’d heard him banging around in the room, opening drawers and then the shower flicked on. The freak had an en-suite bathroom. Probably had a tub in there the size of a small state that he never used. He showered for a while and she tried to keep her breathing even the whole time. She didn’t want to think about her boss in there, soaking wet, water running down what was most definitely a killer body.
Thinking about abs, straining muscles and veiny veins did nothing for her cause. She was restless and disgustingly warm except in the terrible spots where shivers had suddenly taken over, namely up her spine and between her thighs.
The thing was, she wanted to hate the TFB. It made everything easier. It made it easier to lie to herself about the guy not being a walking sex toy. It might be crass, but she was sure that every single part of him was made just to give and receive pleasure. She didn’t want to think like that. She’d heard stories though, about James’ conquests and his prowess. Whispered mutterings in the lunchroom here and there. He never dipped his cock into anything at work. He kept it strictly professional in the office, but then again, most people who worked there weren’t under the age of fifty, but word got around about his out of work activities.
Lexi did not want to think about her being an instrument and James playing her really, really well. If sex was a sport, he’d probably be very good at freestyling. The guy was also rich as hell, stylish as sin, and as gorgeous as the product of two gods going at it until they created something beyond even perfection. The guy looked like he was always magazine ready. Probably because posing was the only thing he was actually good at.
Finally, around three, her body on fire, beyond disgusted with herself for noticing that her boss was a smoking hot forest fire and that she wasn’t capable of putting out the sparks he was raining all over her body just by existing, she grabbed her phone off the nightstand. It was turned down to silent so that it wouldn’t go off and wake anyone up. Damn Curtis James anyway. She’d never felt like this when she saw him at work. A little maybe, but now, it was like being in his house did something to her. Like he was a plague and she’d finally got too close and he’d infected her. Bubonic Baby also had a nice alliteration to it. Nearly better than Trust Fund Baby.
His only flaw, aside from being incredibly spoiled, entitled, and over-indulged, was the fact that he hated kids. God, that was a massive turn off.
With a silent huff of disgust, aimed mostly at herself, Lexi flipped on her phone. She just about blinded herself with the white light and had to blink away the tears of pain that sprung to her eyes. She typed silently, sending out a middle of the night SOS to anyone that might be up.
Surprisingly, her BFF was still awake and so was her sister, Andrea.
ANDY: What the hell? It’s three in the morning. This better be good.
SAM: Hey! Just got home from this amazing new club. OMG, I met the HOTTEST guy. Picture attached of said guy.
Lexi grinned. She blew up the picture but then grimaced. The guy kind of looked like a baboon. Just a little. And she wasn’t one of those mean girls. She tried to give people the benefit of the doubt. It was the only reason she could handle TFB at all.
LEXI: Did you take him home?
She was really hoping that Sam hadn’t. She might be her best friend since they’d met in college years ago, but she had the worst drunk goggles. She needed a wingman and it wasn’t Lexi’s game to go to clubs anymore. Not really. It never really had been.
SAM: You bet! He passed out though. On the floor. Didn’t even make it to the couch. I don’t know what to do. Should I just leave him like that?
LEXI: Is he on his side?
SAM: No. Jesus. God. Could he choke on his own puke?
LEXI: It’s possible. Can you move him?
It was more than a few minutes before Sam responded, so Lexi fired off a text to her sister.
LEXI: Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you up. Okay, maybe I did. I’m stuck at TFB’s house. You know that. I’m in his room.
She hit send before she could recall that back and re-type it. She panicked and fired off another text.
LEXI: I didn’t mean in his room. I’m in his guest room right next to his room. It’s terrible. I can’t sleep.
Andrea was two years younger, but they were close. Closer than most sisters were. They always had been. They never hit that mean girls’ sister stage where they hated each other or were crazy jealous of the other one. Andy knew all about her having to go to Curtis’ house to help him babysit. They’d had a good laugh about it. Andy and Sam both knew all about the evils of Curtis James. She’d shared so many stories about him over the years. He was a bit of a punching bag for the brunt of their jokes, she was ashamed to say. Unfortunately, both Andy and Sam thought TFB was also hot AF. She’d never told them that she thought he was too. She’d only ever said, with the force of a thousand burning suns, that he wasn’t her type.
ANDY: Can you hear him snoring?
LEXI: No. It’s silent in here. You couldn’t even hear a mouse fart.
ANDY: Do mice actually fart? I thought I read somewhere that they couldn’t.
LEXI: I have no idea.
ANDY: What’s he doing in there? If he isn’t sleeping? Do you think he’s using you as his secretary spank bank material? Fanaticizing about you being in his house? Finally? So he can sink his talons into you?
LEXI: Disgusted for life over here. Why would you say something like that?
SAM: Okay, I flipped him over onto his side. I propped pillows all around him so he couldn’t roll ba
ck. Do you think he’s going to be okay?
LEXI: Yeah. Should be. Are you okay? I’m not going to get a panicked text at like five in the morning where you’re hiding in your bathroom again with the door locked, am I?
SAM: That was a one off. I was extra drunk that night. I woke up and had no idea what was going on or who that guy was. He was freaking drooling all over me. I had to lock myself in the bathroom.
LEXI: And you called me to kick him out. At five. In. The. Morning.
SAM: I’m sorry. No, I won’t this time. I know you’re babysitting for Mr. Hotshot Hot Stuff this weekend. How’s it going, by the way? Why are you awake? The kids are up?
LEXI: I wish. No, I just can’t sleep. He’s in the room next to me. The house is weird. Too quiet. I think that’s what’s wrong.
SAM: Or maybe all that hotness is seeping through the walls and you’re thinking about him in there, sleeping. Do you think he sleeps in the nude?
LEXI: Gross and grosser. I wouldn’t know. I don’t want to know.
SAM: It would still be really hot if he just slept in his boxers. I bet he’s stacked. I mean… down there.
LEXI: Also, gross.
ANDY: I don’t know why I said that. Sorry. But I don’t know. He’s super-hot. Would it really be that bad? I mean, a few nights of pleasure.
LEXI: Oh no, not you too. We work together. Jesus! He’s already threatened me with firing. Actually, I threatened to quit.
ANDY: Going that well, huh?
LEXI: Well, the nephew did take off his diaper and smear poop all over the wall and TFB had a mini-meltdown and it was pretty entertaining. I think I’ll remember the abject horror on his face for years. It’s a promising start. I can’t wait to see what tomorrow holds.
ANDY: Seriously? OMG, gross. Barf. Well, have fun. I’m going to go back to sleeping now, like a normal person. Text you tomorrow! Love you!