by Aimie Grey
Even though all of our “relations” had been less than legal, Lisa—Alissa—was special to me. In the years since my rules emerged from the rubble of Natalie’s destruction, Alissa was the only woman I’d broken them with. Although, one could argue the spirit of the rules hadn’t been violated due to the professional nature of our encounters.
Regardless of her job, I’d always had a feeling Alissa was a decent person. In my younger days, I’d obviously been a horrible judge of character; however, as a byproduct of my time with Natalie, my skills in that arena had vastly improved. I’d fucked my fair share of strippers over the years, as well as a small handful of escorts, but Alissa was different. Lisa—Alissa’s alter ego—fucked with a sense of determination as opposed to resignation, and might I say, Lisa was damned good at what she did.
At one point, I thought I wanted more than her body. If the notion hadn’t been fleeting, I would have sought psychiatric care for my acute, isolated case of dissociative identity disorder. That’s a real thing, right? There was no other possible explanation.
Thank God Alissa had the good sense to turn me down; although her rejection made me wonder if she was the one in need of a psychiatrist. No one in their right mind would pass up that opportunity. Almost no one, anyway. I refused to let myself think of the only other woman to send me packing.
“This is important to you, and I believe that it’s a very worthwhile project. Finn read the business plan and gave it his stamp of approval, which is better than getting a five-star review from the toughest industry critic. He’s like a savant when it comes to business and numbers.”
“That’s incredible.” The jostling on her end of the call led me to believe she was literally jumping up and down. My mind briefly wandered as it pictured the effects jumping would have on certain parts of her body.
“What are you wearing?” I had to ask. Who wouldn’t?
“Shut up,” she quipped. The smile on her face was abundantly evident in her voice. As she laughed with excitement, she continued as if I hadn’t interrupted her happy dance. “We worked really hard on it. Desiree is going to freak.”
“Finn wore a mild version of his red-pen face while he worked his spreadsheet voodoo.” I may or may not have sat in his office and watched him for a couple of hours, not that I’d been eager or anything. “Be prepared for a few suggestions.”
“We’d love his advice. I can’t believe this is actually happening.”
“So, Wednesday?” Her excitement was infectious; I found myself looking forward to seeing her again.
“Wednesday, yes. Name the time and place and we’ll be there.”
“I’ll have my assistant call you with the details and to make travel arrangements.”
“You’re the best, Thomas. I don’t know what I did to deserve your friendship, and I can’t even begin to tell you how grateful I am to have it.”
“I really am the best, aren’t I?” The answer was common knowledge. If she thought I was the best now, I couldn’t wait to hear how impressive she would find me when she discovered I’d gotten Marina Alexander and Tate Parker involved. Keeping the surprise a secret was harder than I imagined it would be. “Stephanie will call you soon.”
While saying our goodbyes, I put my feet on the floor and righted myself in my chair. As soon as I lifted and then lowered the receiver to hang up, my assistant saw the red light on her multi-line phone go dark. Before I could hit the button for the intercom, she spun in her chair and looked at me through the wall of glass separating us. I gave her a thumbs up, and she immediately got to work. We were almost always in sync, and in instances like this, I rarely had to give her much more than a nod or gesture. I had no doubt Alissa’s itinerary would be squared away within the hour.
Aside from contractors, Stephanie was our very first hire. Finn and I shared her in the beginning, but as the company grew, we hired a second administrative assistant. Being the selfish bastard that I am, I kept Stephanie for myself. Even though he was easy to work for, Finn had a hell of a time finding someone who would stick around more than a year, and that’s how she-who-shall-not-be-named came into our lives. If I had seen the apocalypse coming, I would’ve let Finn have Steph.
*
Before owning a business, I thought things like pre-meeting meetings only happened in comic strips. I’d been painfully wrong. Yesterday, I had a pre-pre-meeting meeting with Finn, and the actual pre-meeting meeting was scheduled to begin in about fifteen minutes. When approached this morning, I actively refused to meet with Finn and Chad, our marketing director, about the subject. The nomenclature alone would’ve been enough to give me a migraine. If I had met with them today, would that have made yesterday’s meeting with Finn a pre-pre-pre-meeting meeting, or a pre-pre-meeting-meeting meeting, or a pre-pre-pre-meeting-meeting meeting, or something else entirely? After the main event concluded in a few days, the slate would be wiped clean, and I’d be able to schedule again without the excruciating brain twister.
Finn and about half of the team we’d put together had already taken their places by the time I walked into the conference room. As usual, I took the seat next to my brother and chatted with him while we waited for the rest of the group to trickle in.
“We need to find a new interim director of IT,” Finn told me under his breath. “I just got off the phone with Dawn over at Robert van Nickle Consulting. Apparently, a disgruntled former client bludgeoned Carina to death with the neck of a wine bottle.”
As a general rule, I hated thinking ill of the dead, but this time, I had no trouble making an exception. The woman creeped me the fuck out. I swear to God she was the love child of Gollum and the Crypt Keeper.
“Yikes,” I replied instead of laughing.
“We’ll talk more about it later,” he said as who I incorrectly assumed was the last person took their seat.
Glancing around the table, the empty chair across from me indicated we were one short. With less than a minute to spare, a woman, who could only have been the representative for our celebrity partners, strutted in as if we should be honored by her presence. I didn’t have a chance to roll my eyes at her, though. As with the temporary bout of dissociative identity disorder I’d experienced with Alissa, I now found myself afflicted with an acute, isolated hallucination.
Julianne Griffith hadn’t looked my way yet, but her thick red hair, luscious curves, and similar name immediately pitched a tent in my pants. I know people sometimes see what they want to see and not what was actually there, but this was insane. With no prior personal experience, I had no fucking clue how powerful the mind’s eye could be until a pair of green eyes, which still hadn’t looked my way, had my dick trying to climb out of my pants and into the woman taking the seat across from me. The woman looked exactly like the best fuck of my life—even better than Alissa.
Even though there was no way this woman could have been that woman, Marina and Tate’s rep immediately jumped to the number one spot on my to-do list. With her, it wouldn’t be the least bit difficult to pretend I was with my Juli again. I wouldn’t even have to worry about calling out the wrong name—not that I cared. I just really hoped she didn’t turn out to be fugly when the hallucination faded.
Wait a minute. Did I really just think of a woman I fucked a couple of years ago as my Juli? Fuck, I needed to get laid. Stat.
“Now that we’re all here,” Finn said, calling the meeting to order, “let’s begin by reviewing the cost analysis I’ve prepared.” My brother was usually fairly laid back, but once he put on a tie and sat at the head of the table, he was all business.
“Ramsay Enterprises has allocated a donation equal to the fixed start-up expenses outlined in the business plan for the flagship center in Indianapolis, which are summarized on page six. Additional funding requests will be evaluated and approved on a case-by-case basis.”
“For obvious reasons, we ask for a mention of our donation in media releases,” Chad added. “It doesn’t have to be more than a brief mention or a sma
ll, strategically placed logo.” What he really meant was he wanted our name out there but didn’t want us looking like assholes.
Chad had unwittingly given me the perfect segue. “Julianne, I was told you’d be overseeing publicity for the project,” I said, trying to catch the eye of the redhead sitting across from me.
“That’s right,” she mumbled. Focusing her attention on Chad, she said, “I’d like for you to concentrate on brand identity and the design aspects of print media. I’ll handle things such as public image, editorial content, and digital and social media.”
As she spoke, she’d lost track of her volume level, revealing the actual tone of her voice. There was no fucking way…was there?
In what must have been a reflex, her head snapped slightly to the left, causing her to face forward, and she looked directly at me for the first time. Her eyes widened but not in surprise—more like she realized she’d made a mistake.
Recovering quickly, she went on to discuss the contributions of her clients in depth. Leaving the job of paying attention to the content of her words to the rest of the room, I had no choice but to focus on the sound of her voice and movement of the lips I thought I’d never see again.
As I watched her subtly fidget in her chair, I couldn’t help but wonder how this was possible. There was no fucking way it was a coincidence, but most of all I wondered how I hadn’t known she was only a degree or two of separation away all this time. I hadn’t spent an abundance of time with Marina and Tate, but no one had ever mentioned her name until she was assigned to this project.
The woman hadn’t been surprised to see me. Had she been hiding from me all this time? If so, it had to be because she knew she wouldn’t be able to resist my mad skills a second time.
When Juli shifted in her seat again, a vivid memory of her sexy-as-fuck piercing went straight to my dick. I knew exactly what she was doing. Based on the fire in her eyes as she surreptitiously glanced my way with every subtle movement, it was a done deal.
After about ninety minutes of watching her play with herself in public, the meeting finally adjourned. Not giving her a chance to change her mind, I spoke up before anyone left the room.
“Hey, Juli,” I said, purposefully using the name I’d called her when I’d been buried balls-deep inside her hot little pussy. “Will you stop by my office before you head out?” None of the stragglers were interested in her answer, but their presence seemed to pressure her to agree.
“Sure,” she replied, her eyelids and lips pulled tight in irritation. There was absolutely no doubt she wanted to take another trip on the Thomas Express, which seemed to piss her the fuck off.
Since it shared a wall with the conference room, the walk to my corner office was blessedly short. As soon as she stepped through the door I held for her, I pushed it closed and flipped the lock.
“What do you want?” she asked, crossing her arms beneath her bountiful rack, as if being alone with me was a major inconvenience. I forgot her simple question as I watched her cleavage battle with the buttons of her blouse.
Realizing what she’d done, she quickly moved her arms to her sides, temporarily breaking the spell her tits had cast on me. Rounding my desk, I pushed the button to activate the privacy glass I’d had installed a few years back, which turned my open-concept office into a cozy cocoon, albeit a large one.
“Whatever you’re thinking,” she said, glowering at me, “isn’t going to happen. Not now. Not ever. The sooner you accept that, the better.”
“Why are you fighting this?” Stalking toward her, I continued, “You know you want it.”
“I do not want it,” she countered, backing away from me. Curiously, she wasn’t moving in the direction of the door.
“If you didn’t want it, this wouldn’t be the first time I’ve seen you since the night I gave you the best fuck of your life, especially considering I’m more or less related to your best friends. The craving must be unbearable if it made a woman like you resort to hiding.” I took a few more steps closer, delighted when the perfectly pale skin of her neck turned a light pink under my perusal. “Think how much better you’d feel if you just gave in.”
“I have rules for a reason. I’m sure you have reasons for yours as well,” she said entirely unconvincingly.
“I amended my rule book after our first fuck to allow up to three nights with supermodels and porn stars.”
“Hold up.” She snapped out of her slight haze. “Are you saying you think I’m all boobs and no brains?”
Oh, yeah. Still feisty as ever.
“You’re as sexy as a supermodel and fuck like a porn star.”
“Flattery will get you nowhere. Even if I had a similar exception, which I don’t, you wouldn’t qualify.” Juli’s spine straightened as her resolve strengthened. “If you have nothing business related to discuss, I’m leaving.”
“See you Wednesday,” I said, low and rough to see if she’d grown any weaker to my bedroom voice since the last time she’d been fortunate enough to hear it. “Between now and then, try not to think about how wet your panties are right now and how much wetter you know I can make them.”
Putting on her best game face, she focused her stare on my straining zipper and said, “Your motives aren’t altruistic, and I have no problem finding willing bodies who both agree to and follow the rules. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
“Somewhere more important to be?”
“Your question implies being here is important to me, which I assure you, is not the case.”
It’s on.
Juli was wrong about me. I did follow the rules—my rules—but I was smart enough to know when I needed to adapt. I’d chase her if that was the game she wanted to play, but she would be the one begging for more when her time was up.
“Oh, and my panties aren’t wet, because I’m not wearing any.”
Son of a bitch.
CHAPTER SIX
Thomas
The meeting with Alissa went extremely well. At first, I didn’t know what to expect when I found out she was bringing Carter along. The other day, she told me her boyfriend knew about our past, so I wasn’t sure if he’d try to punch me or not. Turns out the guy is hilarious.
Keeping a straight face was impossible as he unnecessarily attempted to cock-block me the entire time. Fortunately, instead of laughing in the man’s face, I was able to channel my energy to make it appear as if I was just overly excited, which I think worked to my advantage.
Carter’s behavior might have actually helped me. If he were jealous enough to piss all over his woman’s leg in a major business meeting, perhaps a little bit of that territorial instinct would rub off on the woman who sat beside me. Between the excessive false excitement, my overly-friendly interactions with Alissa, and the hugs that lasted just slightly too long, I hit my intended target with deadly force. Juli’s panties wouldn’t live to see the morning.
By the end of the meeting, Juli had shown no visible signs of giving in, so I made one last play and invited Alissa to go out with me that evening. Carter wasn’t happy, to say the least, and I felt a little guilty taking advantage of Alissa’s gratitude, but let’s face it, I wasn’t always the nicest of guys.
When the meeting disbanded, Juli shuffled out with the crowd, which was most likely the only way she could keep herself from jumping me in front of everyone.
Having a few hours until the time I told Alissa I’d pick her up, I went back to my office to review another round of counteroffers for the hotel Finn wanted us to buy in Indianapolis. If this proposal turned out to be as ludicrous as the last twenty, I’d have to put my foot down. The only reason I hadn’t given the Boy Wonder carte blanche with this acquisition was his suggestion we pay the ridiculous asking price without any negotiation whatsoever.
Something was seriously wrong with the situation, and I knew it had to be related to Kristy the Kunt. Before he married the whore, he’d been talking about building our next hotel within walking distance of the Pacific Ocean,
not within driving distance of Lake Michigan.
Not long after picking up the blue folder and kicking my feet up on the desk, my office phone buzzed.
“Thomas?” Stephanie said over the intercom.
“Yes?”
“The front desk is on the line. Apparently, a young woman is asking for you. An upset, persistent young woman.”
Hell, that could be any number of people. “Put her through.” I saw Nora working when I walked through the lobby earlier, and I knew she wouldn’t call without a good reason.
“Thomas.” The bravado in the young woman’s unfamiliar voice had me sending Steph an instant message.
Me: Who the fuck am I talking to?
After all of these years, Steph would probably think she was about to be fired if she didn’t hear, or in this case, see, me curse at least a dozen times a day.
Stephanie: Katrina. She’s new.
“Hi, Katrina.” Finn and I tried to know the name of everyone who worked for us, but he was obviously much better at it than I was. “What can I do for you?”
“A guest is requesting a second room for the night. When I told her we are completely booked, she claimed to be your ‘friend’ and insisted I call you.” She was beginning to sound a little crazy—in a humorous way—so I let her keep talking to see how much of her foot would fit in her mouth. “I tried to tell her that being your friend doesn’t miraculously cause a room to open up, but she seems to think her tits are magical.”
What the hell?
“What’s her name?”
“Alissa Ross.”
Yeah, anyone would be jealous of someone with a rack like Alissa’s. Anyone except for Juli. I knew hers were much hotter, and I hadn’t even seen them in all their glory—yet.
“I’ll be right out.” As with the rest of the administrative areas of the hotel, my office was on the ground floor behind a couple of locked doors, so it didn’t take very long to reach the lobby.