by Lindsey Hart
Because she wasn’t like anyone else.
He had his moment. His time. His everything.
Instead of making his move, he grinned at Lexi and lifted his empty wine glass in the most satisfactory toast he’d ever made. “It’s clear you’re not going to knock my skull in after all, so drink your wine and I’ll pour you another. Drink that too and I’ll call you a cab. Thanks for your help this weekend.” With that, he poured his glass full and tossed it back without tasting it again. He kept his wine glass aloft as Lexi stared daggers at him. He raised his empty glass one more time. “To the continuation of a beautiful work relationship.”
He went on smiling obnoxiously long after Lexi drained her glass in a single gulp and stormed out of the kitchen. He didn’t chase after her. He’d never chase her. He didn’t have to.
He knew full well that she’d come to him when she was ready, and it was going to be soon. Very. Soon.
CHAPTER 11
Lexi
The bastard. Lexi was pretty sure that this was what reverse psychology at its finest felt like. Maybe this was what war felt like.
Curtis James fed her a pack of lies, a ten-thousand-dollar glass of wine, and declared war on her ass, all in one breath. God, he was smooth. She felt like the entire time she’d known him, he’d been conditioning her, unbeknownst to her, as sneaky as the devil himself. He was Pavlov and she was the dog. Curtis James was also the bell, and now all she had to do was think about him and the salivating started.
Nine days later, she was still firmly embroiled in the oven Curtis thrust her into at his house. He’d shoved her in and slammed the door. She was currently cooking alive. Boiling in her own skin. She was the pot and inside of her, she was brewing up one hell of a lust stew. It burbled and frothed, cooking away with little bits of desire here, some chopped up want there, seasoned all with a pinch of lust. Yeah. It had been nine freaking days and that pot was about to bubble the heck over.
Curtis James showed up on a Tuesday afternoon. He strolled right past her tiny office- she wasn’t complaining, at least she got an office- straight into his. Unlike hers, his wasn’t mostly made of glass. Anyone and everyone could see what she was doing in her little glassed-in world all day long. Curtis James got the sprawling, expensive, lavish office that had once belonged to his father. It looked like the inside of an old gentleman’s club, complete with hardwood, expensive ceiling tiles and beams, wainscoting, and all the upright, high backed furniture and massive old mahogany desk to match. All that was missing was the brandy and cigars, but those were probably stashed in the bottom of Curtis’ desk too.
She watched his broad, suit clad form slip into his office. He shut the door firmly behind him. She wasn’t notified of any meetings for the day, so she was honestly a little surprised he was there. He hadn’t bothered to pop in since she saw him at his house.
Was it possible to love and hate someone at the same time? Correction- to lust and loathe? That was probably more accurate. Love was a strong word. She hated herself because for nine long days and atrociously long nights that stretched on forever, she couldn’t banish his deep lake eyes. She couldn’t wipe the rich baritone of his voice from her ears. She couldn’t forget the taste of him no matter how many times she’d rinsed with mouthwash. She was tempted to use soap, but if it worked like it worked on herself in the shower, it would be pretty damn ineffective. She needed something to remove all those bad things going on inside of her.
Lexi glanced around discreetly before she pulled her phone out of her desk. She made sure she angled herself behind her desk just right so that no one could see her texting up a storm.
Sam and Andrea both had jobs where they could use their phones pretty much as freely as they wanted. Andy wasn’t even at work yet. Sam worked as a receptionist at a dental office. Andy worked at a bakery, but she worked shifts and she was on the two to ten all week.
Lexi wouldn’t have texted during work, as she thought it was pretty bad taste to sit in her office and earn money for doing absolutely nothing work related, but she was desperate for a distraction. Her bestie and her sister also probably feared she’d been abducted or something, seeing as she’d been MIA for so long.
After she sent off a few feeler texts, basically stating that she was still alive, she sat back and waited while her phone blew up.
ANDY: Where the heck have you been? I’ve tried getting you over here all week. You keep coming up with excuses. It’s good to see you’re still alive.
SAM: What happened with your hot boss?
LEXI: Nothing, pervert. Nothing. Nothing and less than nothing. What about drunk guy? Did he make it out alive?
SAM: You haven’t been watching the news?
LEXI: Very funny. Ha, ha, ha.
She inserted the pissed off emoji face. Of course, the guy made it out okay. She was just trying to distract Sam. That, of course, was a no go. Sam liked gossip more than the average person. She wasn’t going to let go of a juicy bit when she’d sunk her teeth into it.
SAM: Why did nothing happen? You know you want it to. Come on. You’re single. You should be ready to mingle. Your boss is smoking hot. I would do him. I would seriously. Do. Him.
LEXI: Nah. I bet he sucks at sex. He probably doesn’t even know where to stick it.
SAM: What’s it? His tongue?
LEXI: You know what I’m talking about. Why’s he still single? Hmm? Answer me that. There must be something really wrong with him other than the fact that he’s a jerk. Most women are willing to overlook that because he’s so sickeningly rich. He must be bad in bed.
She couldn’t actually believe she was having the conversation at all. She needed to vent. More than that, she needed to convince herself that Curtis James was still just as much of an asshole and that she hadn’t noticed whatsoever that he was a very attractive asshole. Or that it was getting to her.
SAM: You want to sleep with him. You know you do.
LEXI: It doesn’t matter what I want. He’s my boss. I like my job too much.
SAM: He’s rich.
LEXI: Yeah, got that memo.
SAM: So, if you got with him and he liked you, you could at least milk him for some nice stuff. Sell it after. And if he fires you, sue him for all he’s got.
LEXI: Gross. That’s not me.
SAM: I know. Of course. I was just kidding. But seriously, when are you getting dicked?
SAM: DICKED.
SAM: DICKED DICKED DICKED
LEXI: Yeah. Got it. Got the dicked part. Still not sleeping with him. Not now. Not ever.
SAM: Don’t tell me you haven’t imagined him naked before. Even I have. Everyone has.
Lexi abandoned the conversation and texted her sister back. Sam wasn’t helping. She just wanted Lexi to give her, probably for the first time ever, a good story. She had to admit she was woefully bankrupt on good stories, sexual or otherwise. Her ex-boyfriends hadn’t lasted long, and they hadn’t exactly been stellar in that department. She was pretty sure that the last one, Jeff, didn’t even know what a clit was, let alone where to find it. If they’d had other redeeming qualities, it would have been okay, but she had, overall, what Sam liked to dub ‘the worst fucking luck on this whole fucking planet with fucking men.’
LEXI: Sorry. Just been really busy with work. I started running too. I hate it. I get up early, go for a run. Get ready for work. Do work. Run after. Still hate it. Shower. Eat dinner. Bed. Repeat. Nothing to report. Didn’t mean to go radio silent on everyone.
ANDY: Is that a code for you’re sleeping with your boss?
LEXI: WHAT? HOW DID YOU GET THAT FROM WHAT I JUST SAID?
ANDY: I read between the lines. You hate running. You must have something serious you’re trying to get off your mind. And you just babysat for him last weekend. You were at his house. Something must have happened for you to just drop off the face of the earth.
LEXI: Nothing happened. There were kids there. And secondly, gross.
ANDY: Your boss is not gross. Your b
oss is like a twelve out of ten.
LEXI: I hadn’t noticed. His jerkiness usually acts like a cloak. It hangs around him like a black stench of old farts and yesterday’s tuna sandwiches.
ANDY: See. I know you think he’s hot. Only you could be that inventive with your denial. Just be careful. He’s still your boss.
LEXI: Okay, so I’ve thought about him without clothes on. He purposefully did it! He came down to the pool wearing only swim trunks.
ANDY: What else do you swim in? Birthday suit?
LEXI: Vomit. Ugh. Please no. There were kids there! Children! Anyway, he made me think about him without clothes because I kept thinking about him in those trunks. Just because he has a nice body and works out doesn’t mean that I want to sleep with him. He’s gross.
ANDY: Which is code for you want him to bang you senseless and that bothers you because you shouldn’t want it, because he’s, according to you, an uber asshole with a huge bank account who acts like a petulant six year old with a temper tantrum problem and a penchant to date models.
LEXI: There you have it. He would never even notice me. I’m not a supermodel.
ANDY: Don’t sell yourself short. Maybe he’s really nice beneath the asshole exterior. Maybe he does it to protect himself. People probably just see his money when they look at him. That has to get old.
LEXI: I’m sure being super rich gets old. Yeah right. Nope. Never going to sell me that one. There is nothing below the asshole exterior, but more asshole.
ANDY: Okay, okay. Sorry. So, like, how badly do you want to sleep with him? Need an intervention? Need me to try and hook you up with Brad from work again?
Jesus. The guy Andy wanted to introduce Lexi to was forty, was missing teeth and smelled like old cheese. Not that there was anything wrong with that- and she was just guessing about the cheese because she’d only ever seen a picture, one Brad effing texted her- but he’d also asked Lexi over the same text since Andy had given the guy her number on the sly, if she’d like some of the big sausage he was packing. The guy wasn’t a butcher. He worked at a freaking bakery.
Of course, Brad denied the whole thing to Andy and Lexi had deleted the text the second she got it. She hadn’t responded and she’d blocked him. He seemed to have got the hint. He told Andy he would never do any such thing. He was a nice guy. How the heck Andy could believe that was beyond her. Maybe the whole thing was a joke. The thing that rankled most was that her sister thought she was that hard up for dates that she’d give her number to Brad in the first place.
SAM: Dicked. Dicked. Dicked. DIIIIIIIIICCCCCCKKKKKKKEEEEDDDDDDD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
SAM: Hard.
SAM: A lot.
SAM: It would improve your mood.
SAM: Climaxing with a guy during sex shouldn’t be a unicorn experience.
SAM: Just sleep with him and get it over with.
SAM: Report back to me after immediately.
SAM: DICKED!
Lexi blew out a frustrated snort and jammed her phone into her desk right after she’d turned it off. God. She felt worse than ever. Sam was impossible and her sister thought she was a hopeless case when it came to men.
Lexi leaned back in her chair, intent on focusing her mind and getting the hell back to work, but all she could do was sit there with her hands resting on the keyboard, her eyes staring blankly at the screen. She wasn’t seeing the credit card statement she was trying to reconcile.
She was seeing Curtis James. She was trying very hard not to imagine what he looked like underneath the expensive suits he wore. Even with that evil, taunting, asshole, know it all, insufferable, knowing smirk, Curtis James was still hot. He was the Achilles heel she didn’t even know she had until she tore it and now, she was never going to be able to walk properly again. She couldn’t stop seeing his eight-pack dripping wet from the pool, or lower, the exciting bulge straining against his wet trunks. Yes, she’d seen it. No, she couldn’t un-see it. No, she couldn’t un-taste him. No, he didn’t taste like tuna sandwiches or like the nasty end of a trashcan. Yes, he tasted better than the ten-thousand-dollar wine. Yes, she was fucked. No, that didn’t include getting dicked, as Sam so nicely put it.
She thought she was used to him. Used to evading him, detesting him, staying two steps ahead, banishing him from her mind, mentally tormenting him with horrible and absurd nicknames. She thought she’d purged him before he needed to be purged.
She’d thought wrong.
All of a sudden, her inbox dinged, shaking her out of her trance. She blinked at the screen, hoping it was something she could use as a distraction. It was a distraction, alright, but not the welcome kind. She groaned when she saw who the email was from, clicked on it, and read the single sentence, written in bold.
You’re required in my office. I have travel plans I need to discuss with you. Please be there before eleven.
She glanced at the clock at the bottom of her computer screen. It was ten fifty-nine. The Trust Fund Baby strikes again.
CHAPTER 12
Curtis
Curtis thought he’d give Lexi time to stew, steep and burn in the flames of her own want and desire. He figured she’d come crawling to him, swallowing her pride and begging.
It. Didn’t. Happen.
He realized, as the days ticked on, that it wasn’t going to happen. He was far from wearing Lexi down. He wanted to sit back in his desk and not just slow clap her play but applaud her. Lexi Wellington was a force to be reckoned with and reckon he would. It was clear she didn’t just need a nudge in the right direction. She needed a shove right off the damn cliff.
She entered his office right at eleven, pushing the door open without knocking and shutting it behind her. She kept her head held high, regal, and proud. She was all business, her eyes landing on his face, hard and cold, lacking any of the warmth that seeped into them on the previous weekend. Her lips were pursed, and her cheeks were flushed, but only because he had a feeling she was aggravated that he was cutting into her time to be doing something else productive.
She was dressed in a yellow silk number. It was gorgeous but completely professional. A button-up with short sleeves that she’d paired with a black cardigan. It fell to her knees, the buttons going down right to the hem. She’d paired it with a set of low-heeled black pumps, also very office worthy. Her hair was done up in a neat roll at the back of her head, with no strands escaping. She didn’t speak playful. She screamed dignified. She wore a don’t fuck with me expression on her face in lieu of the heavy makeup she didn’t need. His cock, of course, leapt at the sight of her.
“Have a seat.” He indicated the huge wingback black chair in front of the desk. He’d done zero with the office when he’d taken over from his father. He’d left everything pretty much exactly the same. His father had made few changes as well when he took over for his grandfather and it was almost like, sitting in that office, he could still feel the lingering presence of those men. The only men he’d ever looked up to.
Lexi sat. She crossed her gorgeous, pale legs at the ankles, and rested her hands in her lap to keep her dress from riding up. She never broke eye contact with him and that blue grey gaze hit him straight in his blue grey balls.
“I have a proposition for you.” He set his hands on the massive desk top, pen still between his fingers. He tapped it on the wood when she didn’t respond. “Marketing has been trying to develop a new product for months now. We’ve done our research and our testing. Before we launch anything, I wanted to get your opinion.”
Lexi’s mouth dropped open. “What? Mine? Why?”
“Don’t you use kitchen implements?”
“Yeah. Of course. Who doesn’t?”
“Good. You’ll be the perfect person to review the choices, features, colors, functions, all of it.”
“What?” Her eyes widened and she back peddled. “No. I mean, you could ask anyone. Don’t ask me. I wouldn’t know. I’d probably pick something that flops and then you’d try and blame me.”
“Nonsen
se. I just want to get your opinion. So, here’s the proposition. You look at these files with me. Read through everything. There is a couple of hours’ worth of work there. Give me your honest opinion. And to do that, I’ll clear your schedule for a few days, give you a hefty bonus again, and it’ll be like a free vacation with a little bit of work thrown in.”
Her big as saucer eyes narrowed in record time. Probably under a millisecond. “What free vacation?”
“I’m taking you to Canada. Alberta, to be exact.”
Lexi jumped up so fast a person would think that a snake had just been unleashed and tried to crawl up her dress. “No! Absolutely not! I’m not going anywhere with you. Certainly not to Canada.”
“Why not?” He asked dryly. Give me one good reason and I’ll throw your ticket in the trash. Otherwise, you’re coming with me. We leave Friday morning. You’ll be home Monday night.”
“Because it’s not proper! What would people think? People here? You’re my boss. We can’t just fly there together! Be seen together! Stay together!”
“First off, you are my assistant and you can do whatever deemed necessary to make this position a success. If I ask you to travel for business reasons, that should be perfectly logical and acceptable to anyone here. Just because I haven’t asked in the past, doesn’t mean it won’t be a requirement now or in the future. Secondly, we would travel together, but it would be strictly professional. I need a weekend away to clear my head. This is a big decision. One I don’t take lightly. Despite your accusations of me liking to sit on my ass and do nothing at all but swim in mountains of my predecessor’s money, I actually don’t take the running of this company lightly. If we launch a poor product or even a good product without doing our due diligence, it could be a disaster. I won’t dishonor my grandfather’s name and memory by screwing up.”
“Jesus,” Lexi breathed. “No pressure or anything.”
“You wouldn’t have the final say. I just want to know what you think. I do need your help.”