by Ruby Duke
Oh, baby. I did.
FIVE
Corrine
“Tell me everything,” Sarah breathes as we walk the block to work from the parking complex.
“There’s not much to tell.” I take a sip of my steaming hot macchiato. “He fucked me stupid and then kicked me out of his house.”
“Asshole.”
“Is it wrong that I want him to do it again?”
She grins, tucking closer to avoid collision with the oncoming foot traffic. “Nope. Did you at least get his number or leave him yours?”
I shake my head and pull in a deep breath. “He literally pulled out—” I hesitate until the guy walking past us is out of earshot “—and then asked me to wait in the foyer after I’d cleaned up.”
“What?” Sarah’s brow furrows. “I mean the guy looked like a cold hearted bastard, but really?”
“Really.” I shrug. “At least he splurged for a corporate cab.”
“Gee. Lucky you,” she drones.
I let her go first when we reach the revolving door that leads into our building, tucking my coffee close as I push around. I wore it once when my elbow caught the stationary part of the frame—not doing that again.
“We need to cyber-stalk the guy,” Sarah states with finality when I rejoin her in the lobby.
Clearly she’s had some time to think this over while we navigated the death trap.
“Have you looked him up yet?”
I roll my eyes at her. “What do you think?”
“And?”
“He likes flashy cars and showing off his wealth, it seems. Typical ego-driven ‘entrepreneur’.”
“Hey,” she scoffs. “At first glance you look like a wannabe fashion blogger, so remember that we’re not all what we seem at face value. Maybe that stuff helps sell his work, or something.” She frowns as we stop for the next lift. “What does he do?”
“How would I know? Something to do with technology. He hardly gave me the guided tour of his house for me to get any clues.”
“True.” She reaches into her purse and pulls her phone out, whispering when a woman in a pantsuit stands too close. “What’s his name?”
“Jordan.”
She winds her hand, indicating she wants his surname.
“I don’t know,” I whisper. “He didn’t exactly tell me that before he ordered me to get on the bed.”
“Was it not on Instagram?”
I shake my head. “His full name wasn’t in his bio.”
“How did you find him then?”
“Chase follows him.”
“He knows your brother?”
My eyes widen at he thought of involving him in this. “No way.”
“I’ll ask. Say I bumped into the guy myself.”
“No,” I hiss as we step into the lift with pantsuit lady. “He’ll figure it out.”
“How?” Sarah frowns while her thumb flies across her screen.
“What are you doing?” I try to see over her shoulder, yet she keeps turning on the spot to fend me off.
“What have I done, is the question.” She rotates the phone to show me a message to Chase.
Met some guy last night who said he knows you—Jordan. Should I be worried if he offers to buy me a drink again?
“I can’t believe you did that.” My ass hits the glossy brass rail as I slump against the lift wall in defeat.
“Well, you weren’t about to.”
Pantsuit lady gives us both a scathing glare before exiting on her level, two below ours. I poke my tongue out at her retreating back before realizing their reception has a mirrored rear wall. Oops. Hopefully I don’t see her at the end of the day then.
Sarah’s phone chimes with a reply. The two of us scramble to see the message, losing balance as I crash into Sarah’s side.
The lift dings and then opens on our floor, the two of us crammed into the corner as we read the simple, blunt answer to Sarah’s question.
Stay the hell away from that guy, S. He’s trouble. Make sure Corrine doesn’t go near him, either.
“Well.” She cocks an eyebrow at me, stepping sideways into our office foyer. “Looks as though you’ll have your hands full.”
“How?” I shake my head. “There was no exchange of numbers, remember?”
She parts ways with me to head to her department, while I veer left to mine. “Doesn’t mean a thing.”
Apparently it doesn’t. I spend the entire work day being bombarded by emails from Sarah with questions about how I know him, what I remember of Jordan, and links to possible Facebook accounts for the guy.
It’s no use—I tried that already. If he is friends with Chase, he has his account locked down so that people who aren’t connected with him can’t see him. And yes, a simple question to my brother would save us all this hassle, but like hell I’m asking Chase for information on Jordan when he warned Sarah—and me—away from the guy.
I already have an over-bearing father; I don’t need a brother who acts like one too.
“Corrine.”
I swivel my chair to face our manager, Ted. “Yes?”
“Would you be able to stay behind a little later today?” He turns his wedding band around his finger—a sign he’s nervous.
“Sure. I guess so. Why?” Only big projects require extra time, and even then it doesn’t happen more than once or twice a year at most.
“We’ve got a major client threatening to pull their account if we can’t do some damage control after a breach that happened over the weekend.”
“Flynn & Taylor?”
He nods. “You know about that?”
“Yeah. I heard the stories going around the office.” Their website—which our company designed and maintains—was compromised. Two hundred customer files were harvested with credit card information stored inside.
The breach wasn’t our fault; it was the result of a hit on the third party used to process the store payments. But our company was the one who chose that third party, so the blame lies with us.
“Can you help with some damage control?” Ted asks hopefully.
Not that I know what I can do, but, “Sure.”
“We’ve got an expert coming in to work some analysis on what we can do to make our systems watertight. Hopefully that’ll be enough to assure F & T it won’t happen again.”
“Okay. What can I do?”
“I need somebody to run down to the deli and pick up refreshments. It’s going to be a long night.”
Hear that hiss? Yeah, that’s my balloon of confidence screaming around the office as it deflates. “I can do that. Of course.”
“We’d only need you here for another hour or so.”
“Honestly.” I wave a dismissive hand at Ted. “It’s no problem. I’ll just make a phone call, and then I’ll go set up the boardroom.”
He runs a hand through his short curly hair. “Thanks, Corrine. You’re a real help.”
No. I’m a web technician. But if being the sandwich lady gets me brownie points toward a promotion, then I’ll give it a try.
I pull my phone out as he walks away, sinking into my chair with a sigh.
“Hey, babe. I’m in the foyer still.”
I stand and wave to Sarah across the expanse of cubicles. “I have to stay back for a bit.”
“You want me to wait?”
“No.” I drop back into my seat. “I’ll be a while. I’ll catch you tomorrow morning.”
“Okay. See you then, babe.”
I disconnect, and then stand to watch as she gets into the lift and disappears from view. Ted’s voice drifts from his open office door, the call on speaker as I walk past to prep the boardroom.
The answering tones of his caller leave a chill tickling my spine. No way. My steps falter, and I hesitate just out of view to listen in.
“I’m on my way over. Stuck in a bit of traffic, but I’ll be there soon.”
“Thanks for coming in at such short notice, man. I owe you one.”
�
��Hey, I owe you plenty after the shit we pulled in college. Don’t sweat it.”
Ted knows Jordan. Is there anybody in my goddamn life who doesn’t know the guy? I totally should have moved interstate after graduating; would have avoided these kinds of run-ins, that’s for sure.
I continue to the far end of the office space, yet instead of entering the boardroom like I was supposed to, I veer right and head for the restrooms instead. I’ve had a long day, and I can’t guarantee that I look all that great after fidgeting with my hair like I do while transitioning data from one site to the next.
He might not have intended on seeing me again, but I know without a doubt that after Jordan sees me today, I’ll make sure he won’t ever feel that way again.
SIX
Jordan
I clear my throat when Corrine strides in to the boardroom.
“Walk me through the process, Ted.” My gaze tracks her curvy ass as she rounds the table to set a pitcher of water in the middle. “How did this happen?”
Whatever the fuck my old college buddy says, I only half pay attention. The answer is laid out before me in data sheets, reports, and affidavits from his staff. I only asked him to spell it all out as though I’m fucking stupid so I could get a moment to appreciate the feminine form bent over beside me.
Goddamn. My palm itches to lash out and strike that firm peach.
She un-stacks the glassware, taking her sweet time to lay them out in a line beside the pitcher. A single jerk of her wrist before she sets the last down, and Ted shakes his head in response to say he isn’t thirsty.
“Mr. Bowman?”
I grit my teeth, and nod. If only to have her there a moment longer. I didn’t want her to know my last name yet. I didn’t want her to be able to track me down.
Didn’t factor on her being Ted’s right hand today, did I?
“Thank you, Corrine.” Ted smiles politely in the way that reads ‘Go now.’
She takes the hint, and rounds the table once more to march her long fucking legs out the boardroom door. Jesus. Seeing those pins in a pair of sky-high heels? As if it wasn’t difficult enough not to get a raging hard-on remembering how she spread herself wide on my bed.
Whole goddamn plan has gone to hell. I kicked her out the damn door, certain her pussy still ached from the hammering I gave her given how my balls did, with all intention of playing hard to get. A week here, a few more days there. I wanted her to hunger for me, to thirst for more like I have since she bent over, at sixteen, and promised me things I couldn’t have.
“Where are your servers kept?” I swallow a couple of times, bringing the focus back to Ted.
She wasn’t supposed to be here tonight. She’s just a technician. A lackey.
“I’ll show you.” He rises and gestures to follow with a jerk of his chin.
We make our way through identical cubicles, the space sickeningly clean and crisp. There isn’t a singular sign of life outside these walls on any one of the desks. No photos, no funny memes tacked to the wall. Nothing.
Ugh. I like order as much as the next guy, but Jesus, let the people feel human.
“What did you want to know?”
I humor Ted with question after question about how their servers are protected and backed up. What contingencies they have in place for each perceived threat to the business. He chews my ear off, giving me the details I need, yet my focus keeps sliding out the server room door and to the glimpses of Corrine I get as she moves around the place.
The woman’s always been beautiful, blessed with a fine jaw and large eyes set amongst a mass of natural blonde waves. But age has certainly been kind to her figure, filling out those bony hips with more than enough cushion to satisfy my preferences, her long legs balancing out her top-heavy frame. Yes. My girl was blessed with more than a handful of natural assets. She’s got the kind of fullness to her breasts that make a man dream of burying his face in there.
“Jordan?”
“Huh?”
“Anything else?”
I rub my stomach for good measure, just to thicken the lie a little. “Might head past the men’s. I’ll see you back in the boardroom.”
He flattens his lips and nods, before leaving me to count out the minutes until this gets suspicious.
She gathers up her purse as I approach, an unfamiliar panic settling in my chest when I realize I could have missed her.
“Leaving so soon?”
A gasp falls from her lips, full and painted the most appealing shade of red. “Jordan.”
“Must say it was a nice surprise to find you here.” I lean my forearm on her cubicle wall, aiming for casual and suave.
She shoots me down fast and hard. “You know, you’re quite ugly when you lie.”
“Pardon?”
She slings her purse strap over one arm, resting it in the crook of her elbow as she slams the other hand on her hip. “A nice surprise to see me? Pfft. Please. You couldn’t wait to get rid of me two nights ago.”
Fuck. What do I say now? This is not how I planned this conversation to go.
“Well, excuse me, but last time I checked women didn’t pick men up in a bar if they wanted anything other than a casual bit of fun.”
“Bit of fun.” Her lips press into a flat line as she nods. “Nice to know where I stand. Thank you, Mr. Bowman.”
Her shoulder hits my arm as she passes, her face a goddamn storm. Before I can think the consequences through, my hand shoots out and I capture her by the bicep.
“Wait.”
“Remove your hand, please.”
“Only if you promise to hear me out.” My heart hammers like a goddamn piston, pumping blood to the worst places in this point in time. But her arm beneath my touch… fucking woman drives me to distraction.
“One minute. I have places to be.”
Right. I’ve got this. Entirely.
“Fifty-five seconds, Jordan.”
I’m fucked.
“I was rude.”
“No kidding.”
“But.” I lift my palm as I remove my hand from her. “I was caught off guard, so I acted a little …”
“Like an asshole?” she quips.
“You could say that.”
Her stare is blank. “What do you want from me?”
Hot sex. Blowjobs. Your tits in my hands as you ride my cock— “A second chance.” Forever.
She blows out a loaded breath, gaze drifting past me as she seems to think the proposition over. “No.”
Wait. What? “Sorry?”
“No, Jordan.” Her gaze slides back to me, cool and calculated. “Find yourself another ‘bit of fun’ to practice on.”
“Corrine …”
“I believe you have a meeting you’re required in.” She turns and heads for the lifts.
I’m not the kind of man to beg, but, “Please.”
“No, Mr. Bowman,” she sasses as makes her way through the maze of cubicles. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
Pleasure … I’ll give her pleasure.
She might think I already did, but hell that was simply the warm up.
Game on, little girl.
Time to play with the big boys.
Big boy.
SEVEN
Corrine
Two can play at his game. So what if the man is over six-foot of pure muscle mass that promises multiple orgasms? Doesn’t mean he can walk on in to my place of work and demand a second chance.
Huh.
If he hadn’t stumbled across me today, what would he have done? I can bet your cotton candy ass that it wouldn’t have been look me up and ask for a second date.
Date. Ha! The man wouldn’t know a date if one slapped him in the face.
Ugh. I groan as the lift reaches the lobby, well aware that it took all of my strength to turn him down just now. The man is utter sex on a stick, and hell, the sex he gave me the other night was nothing short of amazing.
I’d totally do him again.
An
d it’s that very thought that will get me in trouble.
I dig my phone from my purse as I step out onto the street to head for the deli. I have cash and firm instructions from Ted to pick up something Gluten free since he’s on a new health kick. The streetlights reflect off the screen of my phone as I thumb through to Sara’s number.
“Babe, I need help.”
She chuckles down the line. “What have you done?”
“He’s here.”
“Who?”
“He is.” I wait at the street corner for the walk signal. “Jordan.”
“What? How? Did you find him?”
“He found me.” I step off the curb and shrug my shoulders a little higher to ward off the early evening chill. “He’s doing a job for Ted. Can you believe that?”
“Did you talk to him?” The rustle that cuts through the earpiece tells me she settles in for the deets.
“I did.”
“And? Stop drip-feeding me information, woman!”
I laugh, side-stepping a couple that walk the opposite way to me. “He asked me for a second chance. Tried to come off all casual, pretending he was pleasantly surprised to see me, but I put him in his place.”
“I bet you did,” Sarah says with a laugh. “Will you?”
“Give him a second chance?”
“Mmm.”
“No!” I arrive at the deli with five minutes to spare until closing. “He doesn’t deserve it,” I reason before muttering under my breath, “Man-whore.”
“You could at least have a little fun,” Sarah urges, mimicking my exact thoughts.
“I’m not that kind of person, babe.” I get attached, far too easily. “Besides, what if Chase heard about it?”
“Why would he? Do you tell him about every casual fuck you get?”
“Hon …” The server catches my eye, awaiting instruction. “Hold on a minute.”
With my hand over the mouthpiece, I order gluten free wraps for Ted, and a fancy looking pulled pork roll for Jordan. Clearing the place of pastries, I end up with an enormous bag of discounted goodies to take back to the office.
Perks of coming in at the end of the day.
“You still there?”
“Yeah. I put you on speaker so I could finish painting my nails.”