by Stacy Gail
That was unacceptable.
Shit, Maximo Kulagin breathing her air was unacceptable.
“Steele.” Scout made it to the landing and gave the bodyguard a small nod. “The designers have arrived for the meeting. Since Mr. Greeley’s employer is still in a session, how would you like to go about this?”
“Greeley’s got his employer covered here, and as my team’s sitting on every entrance into the building, I don’t see why we have to change plans.” Until that moment he hadn’t been sure where his presence would be most needed. But Kulagin locking onto Essie made up his mind. He wasn’t about to let her out of his sight when the likes of the Mad Russian was busy sniffing around. It didn’t matter that Kulagin wouldn’t be a part of the meeting that had been called. It just pissed him off that he’d zeroed in on Essie the moment she entered the building.
Asshole obviously didn’t know she already belonged to someone else.
Scout’s brows arched up. “You sure you don’t want to give this meeting a skip? That’s a pretty controversial client that Twist’s working on.”
“Ooh, who is it?” Dizzy wanted to know, while Olivier wore the disdainful look of a man who was surrounded by idiocy and had no hope of being delivered from his wretched fate. Essie, on the other hand…
Was watching him.
The moment his gaze ran into hers, she blushed brilliantly and bit her lip, but she didn’t look away. That broke his duty to professionalism in two. She was such a quietly brave little fighter, he marveled, and that refusal to back down was irresistible. A corner of his mouth curled, and he waited until she smiled in response before speaking.
“I know where I need to be,” he said, not taking his eyes off of Essie.
His head nearly exploded when her blush got worse.
“Seriously, who’s getting a tattoo?” Dizzy Izz demanded again.
“Sorry ma’am, we can’t say, and blabbing about it like Miss Loose Lips over here is no way to keep a low profile,” Greeley announced and shot a disgusted look at Scout.
That hypocrisy just earned Greeley a Karmic bolt of lightning somewhere down the road, Steele was sure of it.
Scout stepped up to Greeley like she was bulletproof with a side order of invincible. “Try telling me how to do my job again and I’ll find a way to make sure your employer knows that for the first hour of his tat session, instead of guarding his valuable ass like he’s paying you to do, you went across the street and fed that noise hole you got going on in the middle of your fat fuckin’ face. Now step aside, before I get Steele over here to give you a flying lesson off this balcony.”
“You fuckin’ bitch.” Steele tensed, ready for Greeley to prove that he was exactly what Steele thought he was—a guy that had more brawn than brains. Then he took a measuring look at Steele, decided he didn’t want to take up flying as a hobby, and stepped aside. And only then did Steele realize that Essie had come up behind Scout to either brace her or get her out of harm’s way. Dizzy Izz and Olivier, on the other hand, had scurried halfway down the stairs as if they were a bomb about to go off.
Not Essie, though.
She wouldn’t dream of leaving Scout all alone when things turned ugly.
Then he blinked as the wayward thought caught him off-guard.
Essie didn’t leave when things turned ugly.
If Apolline had been like that, even a little, they’d still be together.
But they weren’t. They weren’t together because Apolline had left when things turned ugly.
No. That wasn’t quite right.
Apolline had left when he turned ugly.
“Right this way, folks.” With a sweep of her hand, Scout moved the party toward the double doors leading to Payne’s office. Dizzy Izz, Olivier and Essie followed, but when Maximo went along as well, Steele took an almost obscene amount of pleasure in stepping into his path.
Oh, yeah. Cock-blocking at its finest.
“You seem to be confused, Mr. Kulagin.” He kept his voice coolly neutral, despite wanting to tell Essie to get her lovely heart-shaped ass in gear when she paused to look back at them. “You’re not a part of this meeting.”
Maximo’s eyes iced over. “No law against walking a pretty lady to the door.”
“This isn’t a date.”
“And this isn’t a police state. I go where I wish.”
“Then I hope you wish to go to your tattoo booth, because your client’s already waiting for you,” Scout said without breaking stride. “Everyone’s got a job to do here, so let’s all do it, shall we?”
“Sounds good to me.” And it did, since Steele’s job kept him in the same room with Essie. With a smile he couldn’t control, he turned and laid a hand on Essie’s back, presumably to guide her toward Payne’s office.
But every man on the planet knew what that gesture really meant.
It was a silent staking of a claim.
As Essie settled into her usual seat in Payne’s office, she glanced over her shoulder at Steele. To her surprise she found that he hadn’t taken up his usual spot at the door, but now stood at the wall near where the sofa and her chair sat at right angles from each other. The aura he gave off was one of calm professionalism, but she couldn’t help but notice that his watchful eyes focused on her.
Hmm. Maybe he wanted to frisk her.
Her belly swooped and the juncture of her thighs got all warm and tingly at the thought, and with a huge effort she managed to force her gaze away from him. This whole tingling business hadn’t stopped since last night, when he’d shown her just what the hell everyone was talking about when they said the word pleasure. Before last night, she’d been like a motor that had been broken right out of the factory. But thanks to a skilled touch—a very, very freaking skilled touch—she’d become a purring engine that didn’t seem to have an off switch.
She’d never been happier.
“We’re now one month from the fashion show that will decide who’s going to be House Of Payne’s official fashion designer.” As usual, Payne was on his feet, pacing in front of them. “I need to know how you’re doing on your lines.”
Dizzy Izz gasped as if stabbed. “Surely the great Payne doesn’t want everyone to display their unfinished works a month before the show? Dizzy Izz only reveals completed projects.”
“You don’t have to drag everything you’ve got all the way down here just to prove you’ve been doing your homework. I just want to know what lines you’ve chosen to do for your collection.”
“I refuse to reveal a thing in front of my competitors,” Olivier announced, the corners of his mouth pointing sharply downward. “A general doesn’t give away troop movements to the enemy. You should know this.”
Good grief, Essie thought while she dug her phone out to check her notes. At times like these, she missed her sketchbook like she’d miss a part of herself, but the notes she kept on her phone would do in a pinch. So far, she had pretty much completed the daily wear portion of her collection, though she did want to throw in some snazzy retro bowling shirts for both men and women, and she was halfway done with the activewear. The baby clothes line was being saved for last, like dessert. She was going to have so much fun with that, she should pay Payne for letting her in on such an awesome project.
Payne’s sigh was almost a groan of pain. “Why is it I instantly get a headache when I meet with you people? What about you, Essie? You want to tell me to go to hell as well?”
“I’m done with the minimum requirements for the daily wear line, halfway done with the requirements for an activewear line, though I’m hoping to wrap that up by the end of the week. Technically speaking, I have some outerwear stuff as well, but not enough to call it a line, so I’m lumping all of that in with the daily wear. On my agenda next week is the kid stuff and if I have time I want to tackle loungewear, not because it’s needed, but because that’s my personal uniform for like, life. So unless I’m hit by a bus, I should be able to make the deadline, no probs.”
“What ab
out the hoodie?” To her surprise Steele spoke up, bringing her attention to him. Everything inside her melted when she found his gaze already trained on her, and she turned completely around in her seat so she could make herself all the happier by taking him in at her leisure. “You have the two leather jackets, one for men and one for women, and that men’s hoodie, so why not make a hoodie for women? That way you’d have the minimum requirements for a complete outerwear line as well as everything else.”
“It’s a great idea, Steele, but I don’t know if I have enough money in the budget to do that, plus everything else that’s in my head. Though I really would love to see that hoodie in some plushie baby pink and magenta,” she added with a sudden grin. “My brother’s head would freaking explode if he ever saw any of his vaunted artwork represented in pink.”
Steele grinned. “I’ll lend you the money.”
She let out a little squeal of delight. “Done.”
“That’s against the rules, we can’t have someone going over-budget.” Olivier got to the edge of his seat while Dizzy Izz stared pure death at her from her spot on the sofa. “That’s in the contract you insisted we all signed, remember? No going over-budget.”
“Yeah, I did have that as a stipulation, didn’t I?” Payne rubbed the back of his neck while staring at Essie and Steele thoughtfully. Then he nodded, as if he’d come to a decision before he turned to Scout. “Is there anything in the contract that says I can’t kick in some extra scratch to cover everything? The point of this whole contest was to get quality shit made for the House, not to trip everyone up with fucking rules.”
“That rule was put in there so no one could outspend anyone else,” Scout intoned with a long-suffering sigh. “You can make the budget for the contestants whatever you want it to be, as long as it’s equal.”
“Then as of today, I’m kicking in an extra grand for each contestant. Plushie baby pink and magenta?” A grin lit Payne’s scruff-shadowed face as his attention swung back to Essie. “Were you serious about that?”
“I was.” She could already see it.
“Outstanding.” With a short laugh, Payne gleefully rubbed his hands together. That was when she knew Payne and Twist were probably better at being friends than they were at being employer-employee…and that Twist would be tempted to kill her for turning his award-winning Goth tat into cute and snuggly pink goodness.
Oh well.
Essie couldn’t help but notice her fellow contestants shooting her a wealth of dirty looks as the meeting broke up and they headed out of Payne’s office. She couldn’t figure out why. Though she certainly hadn’t intended it when she headed into the meeting today, she’d somehow managed to snag another grand for each of them to improve their lines.
So much for gratitude.
“I think I’d better walk you to your car,” Steele murmured in her ear as they headed for the stairs, his hand coming to once again rest in the small of her back. Beneath his touch, every nerve instantly started to party. “I’m getting a vibe that your competitors might want to jump you when no one’s looking.”
“What the heck is their problem?” Essie shot Olivier and Dizzy Izz a bewildered glance before letting Steele guide her toward the exit. “I didn’t do anything.”
“Yeah, you did. You do it every time Payne calls a meeting.”
“What? What do I do?”
“You outshine them.”
Her breath caught while pleasure flowed through her like sunshine. “I do not.”
“You do, too.” Nodding to the guard stationed at the entrance, he tucked her under an arm and pulled her to his side so that it seemed the most natural thing in the world to loop her arm around his waist as they walked. “Today’s display was the best yet. Nobody had any answers for Payne. They were just intent on either keeping their cards close to the vest or covering their asses because they haven’t been doing shit for a month, I couldn’t tell which. Then he got to you, and you basically told him you’re two-thirds done with the challenge, you’ve got more ideas for this project than those asshats have had in their lifetimes, and you’re so well-liked the boss decided to throw more money at you so we can all watch you have fun pissing your brother off. If this keeps up, I’m going to have to assign myself to you as your fulltime bodyguard just to keep you safe from those two idiots.”
“I wouldn’t mind.” The words were out before she gave them a thought, but even as she heard them she knew they were the truth. Now that she knew what he could do with his oh so talented fingers, she was more than happy to have him nearby. And the cherry on top was that he seemed to feel the same way, despite knowing everything about her. Her background didn’t freak him out or intimidate him. He simply rolled with it, and that was more precious to her than gold.
“I wouldn’t mind, either.” They got to her car, its dark blue paint job dulled by a layer of dust and grit, and he leaned in when she paused to open the door. “You know what else I wouldn’t mind?”
“What?”
“A kiss.” He leaned a hand on the car’s doorframe and brought his face to within a fraction of hers. “You gonna give it to me?”
For a nanosecond Essie tried to remember if she’d ever kissed anyone in her life. She’d been kissed, of course, but had she ever initiated locking lips with anyone? Then she realized it didn’t matter. What mattered was that she got her butt in gear and kissed the man like she meant it.
So she did.
She arched her neck and went up on her tiptoes to seal the deal. Her eyes slid closed in order to focus on the tactile feedback, and she was glad she did. That feedback was extraordinary. She was a devoted fan of his flavor and the languorous way he caressed his tongue against hers. It was as though all he cared about was her pleasure, her response. That was how she was whenever they touched, so it was a thrill to feel the vibration of his low groan when she dived deeply with her tongue, her lips moving against his to better savor the feel of him.
“I love the way you kiss.” He broke the kiss by lowering his chin, but stayed so close the words were spoken against her lips. “Can’t get enough of it.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” The hand that wasn’t bracing his weight on the car had curled around her hip to pull her into the curve of his body, so she could feel the growing hardness behind his zipper. Her heart ping-ponged around in her chest and that edgy, hunger-inducing tingling between her legs overrode every thought in her head. “You kiss like it’s going to be the last kiss you’re ever going to have. It makes me think you feel that every kiss we share is special to you. I like that. I like it because I feel that way too.”
They were so close she knew he felt the shiver that slid through her. “I still need practice at it. Are you willing to help me out on that?”
“You know it.” He lifted his chin and brought their mouths together for another sweet lip touch. “I want to be the one who teaches you everything you need to know. You know what I’m saying, Essie?”
She swallowed and searched his eyes. What she saw there nearly robbed her of the ability to speak. “You don’t have to teach me about sex. I’m not a virgin.”
“Yeah, you are.”
Um… what? “Steele, you know my background as well as—”
“Yeah, I do, because I did the background search that showed you barely dated throughout college, and as far as I could tell you’ve never had a long-term relationship.”
Geez, he really took his job seriously. “That’s not what I was talking about.”
His expression suddenly hardened, and an ominous storm began to brew in his eyes. “Tell me you’re not talking about when you were raped.”
Amazing, how he didn’t shy away from that subject, when so many others tippy-toed around it. Now that she knew him better, she much preferred the open honesty in his matter-of-fact approach. “That’s exactly what I’m talking about.”
“Then you need to shit-can that idea right now, Essie. That wasn’t your choice. And he didn’t just rape
you, he nearly killed you. That’s violation and violence and fucking evil at its worst. I’m going to be your choice. I’m going to be your first, and that’s sex. Don’t ever confuse the two, and don’t ever put what we’re going to share in the same category as the living hell that fucker put you through. They’re as different as a fantasy is from a nightmare, and I’m seriously looking forward to teaching you that.”
“More lessons, huh?” Giddy happiness mingled with nervy excitement. There it was, confirmation they were going to bang each other like drums. It was all she could do to keep from hyperventilating. “You really are interested in being my professor, aren’t you?”
“Question is, are you interested in being my student? Do you trust me to take care of you?”
What a question. “I know you’d never hurt me.”
“Damn straight I’d never hurt you, but that wasn’t what I asked.” The hand on her hip was on the move, sliding to cup her ass in a big palm. His fingers squeezed with unapologetic possession, and he slanted her a cocky smirk when her breath caught. “Do you think you can trust me to take care of every part of you? I can’t teach you everything you need to know—and I mean everything—if you can’t trust me completely.”
She looked into his eyes and saw so many things. Relentless determination. Strength. Integrity. Self-assurance. Pride.
The one thing she didn’t see was cruelty.
She could do this. She could do it because he was a man she could believe in. If he wanted her to trust him to take care of her, it was because he would do exactly that.
“I trust you,” she whispered while her stomach quivered, like she’d almost missed a step. The sensation vanished in the next second, however, when a brilliant smile bloomed on his face, more stunning than a sunrise, before he dropped his mouth to hers in a quick, hard kiss.
“That’s all I needed to hear, sweetness. As of now, class is in session.”
Chapter Thirteen
“Since measuring Dillon is impossible, I’m going to go off the measurements of this onesie pattern and hope for the best.” The pounding of drums overhead was an irritating white noise as Essie bustled around the cutting table, shoving her sewing chair out of the way as she went. Mooch the cat was hidden somewhere in the bathroom, more skittish than ever and losing clumps of hair, and she knew her mood wasn’t helping the poor kitty one bit. Nervous energy crackled through her, so much so she wouldn’t have been surprised if she glowed with it. She’d been this way since she left the House, with Steele promising her that as soon as he got off work, he’d meet up with her.