Training Her Curves - Boston

by Christa Wick

  So I took certain liberties. If he didn't like the mouth I sometimes had on me, he could go back to the time when he had to get a new secretary every few months after the current one left in tears for one reason or another. Until then, he could continue doing what he always did, ignoring me when I was bad...and good...and everything between.

  Stepping to the door, I heard the driver telling Alexa that a private plane on a private airfield was the best way to fly -- or so he had heard.

  Laughing, I called out. "You heard right, Bobby!"

  Alexa looked up. I gestured for her to join me, turning up my volume in an attempt to finally silence Dylan. "Come inside. Bobby will make sure your bag is stored."

  Out of sight, I whacked the other side of the panel separating the entrance area of the jet from the main cabin because I could still hear my two bosses arguing.

  Thankfully, Alexa was moving up the stairs at a snail's pace. I had to keep what I hoped was a welcoming smile from breaking out into an amused grin because I had made the climb just as slowly and likely for the same reason. Those stairs were a bitch for girls our size!

  Studying her, the gorgeous red hair bouncing around and the body hugging chocolate colored dress, I realized just how very close in size to one another we were. Only her overabundance of curves were in all the right places. Mine -- not so much.

  Stepping back as she reached the top, I tossed a glare in Dylan and Jake's direction. They had moved to the rear section of the plane, their voices no longer audible but their expressions and body language broadcasting their tension.

  I tried to slow Alexa's entrance, miscalculating with a warning that the boys were "conversing." She caught Jake's eye. Seeing her, he immediately shut the door in the panel separating the two sections of the plane. By that point, he probably didn't want any witnesses to him strangling his big brother.

  Too bad he had reacted a few seconds too late. Seeing Jake's face, Alexa turned toward the door, second thoughts clearly pinging through her brain. Reaching out, I touched her shoulder. I couldn't let her leave. Jake had been growing crazier by the day since Alexa showed up for the contract negotiations about a week ago. He'd also shown an inordinate amount of interest in her pages on the Razor Doll website before that and I happened to know, contrary to the lie he'd told Dylan, that Jake hadn't auditioned a single other model.

  I had my own selfish reasons for wanting her around, too. I needed to see a man like Jake worshipping a woman like Alexa. I needed Dylan to see it, too. Only then would I know that, if Dylan couldn't find a woman like Alexa sexy, he would never show a similar interest in me.

  Not that I held out much hope of him ever noticing me that way. He barely acknowledged my existence at all even though he, not Jake, had hired me for the position.

  "Bobby's already gone," I said, hoping to get Alexa to commit to the trip. "These fights they have don't last long. And the look on Jake's face was solely for Dylan, who is habitually a dickweed."

  Seeing that she still hesitated, I decided a lie was in order. Or as best as I could manage since I'm as bad at lying as I am at yoga, or walking on a treadmill...or avoiding ice cream.

  "They aren't even arguing about you," I whispered. She didn't look like she believed me, so I retreated a little from the lie. "They finished that fight in the office at seven this morning. Right now, it's about Riona."

  I had half a second to feel victorious over not passing out as I mangled the truth before I saw her look back at the open door. Damn! She either didn't know or had forgotten who Riona was.

  "Their sister," I continued hastily. I should have left it at that, but the nervousness that always kicks in when I start fibbing took control of my mouth. "Jake thinks Dylan needs to loosen his grip on the short leash he keeps Riona on. Which, come to think of it, was pretty much the point Jake was making when Dylan warned him about..."

  Shut up! Stop talking! Danger Will Robinson!!!

  The warning came too late as Alexa stepped past me into the cabin.

  "About me, right?" she asked.

  I shrugged.

  Genius move there, Dekker!

  Hey, at least I have her moving in the right direction, Miss Critical Pants!

  "Don't worry," Alexa said and took a seat on one of the leather sofas in the main cabin. "I don't plan on having anything but the most cursory business conversations with your other boss. Not even that if I can manage."

  I plopped onto the couch. Realizing Dylan and Jake weren't arguing as quietly as I would have liked, I tried to keep her distracted with my oh-so-brilliant conversational abilities.

  "I wish the trip was starting in a more pleasant manner for you."

  "When is business ever pleasant?" She gave me a shoulder bump followed by a wink.

  I smiled back. She was going to be great for Jake. At least I hoped so. I couldn't understand the earlier delay in her signing the contract, only knew that I had to spend most of the week with one suddenly batshit crazy boss while the other one had turned into a total jerk when he found out about Alexa.

  The door to the back opened and the jerk in question walked out and over to the espresso machine. Jake poked his head and one arm through the doorway and crooked his finger at Alexa.

  Damn, he was sexy. Not as sexy as Dylan, but then I would never have either Kehoe brother crooking a finger or looking at me like that. Not even close. I would have to live vicariously through Jake and Alexa and leave the rest to my fantasies and the little Pocket Rocket that served as my battery-operated boyfriend.

  "Have fun," I whispered as Alexa rose and joined Jake in the back of the plane and I wished that I was the one heading toward the big bed and that it was Dylan who would eventually reach under the mattress and pull out one of the two suitcases I knew the brothers stored beneath it.

  "Don't get attached," Dylan warned, handing me an espresso cup. Taking a seat at the opposite end of the sofa, he sipped at his drink as he scrolled through his phone for the last few minutes before take off.

  I followed suit, checking my messages. One in particular jumped out at me -- Maxwell King. I glanced at Dylan, relieved to find that he wasn't paying me the least bit of attention, as usual. I opened the email, hoping it was only Mr. King's secretary using his account to send me transcripts of the last Downtown Boston Renewal meeting.

  With Dylan having been born in the city and his mother coming from old money and her family keeping a house in the area of Beacon Hill, Mr. King had naturally reached out to the investment group for charitable donations to restore the cities oldest and finest architectural landmarks.

  Unfortunately, that didn't have anything to do with the new message. Despite my many refusals, the old man wanted to poach me.

  I deleted the email with its new offer from my phone. I would reply to him once we were in Miami when I didn't have to worry about Dylan catching me.

  Annoyed that King wouldn't relent, I jammed the phone into my bag.

  "Is that for me?" Dylan asked.

  My head jerked in his direction. "Is what for you?"

  His finger danced in front of my face. "That scowl you're pulling."

  Really, he had bothered looking at my face? Crap, he must be bored or think he was seriously in need of an ally to change Jake's mind.

  He slid closer to me, his voice taking on a conspiratorial tone. "Look, Joey, I know you like her, but I don't want you getting attached to Miss Hunt. She won't be around long."

  I laughed. He hadn't seen the way his brother looked at Alexa. He didn't know how much time Jake had spent on her pages on the Razor Doll site. Lastly, love was an entirely foreign concept to Dylan Kehoe -- just a fancy word for fucking the women he paid.

  "I don't think you should be trying to interfere in your brother's sex life." I pulled my laptop from my bag and powered it up. My irritation with Dylan continued to grow until I had to toss another grenade at him. "Or your sister's."

  "Thankfully I only pay you to answer my phone and type my letters," he shot back. "Not ad
vise me on how I should deal with my reckless siblings."

  My fingers froze over the keyboard for a second before I furiously typed my ID and password into the security prompt. He wasn't the only person who could pretend the rest of the world didn't exist. And if I wanted to keep from throwing myself off the plane and straight into the unemployment line, that's what I had to do.

  "Joey, that's not what I meant..."

  I side-eyed him for about five seconds before opening up the list of things I needed to take care of once we were in Miami. The list was three pages of one-line bullet points. The folder holding it had over a dozen profiles of high value targets I had researched. I had contacts and work orders for electricians, carpenters, musicians...

  All of a sudden, Mr. King's offer to hire me at a salary equal to my current position with a better title and a chance of officially running projects for his development company was starting to sound pretty damn good.

  "I'm trying to say that I appreciate all the work you do for m..." Dylan retreated with a growl to the opposite side of the sofa. Taking his phone from his pocket once more, he didn't even look at me as he finished talking. "The office is better for having you in it."

  In it? How about running it? How about making sure the contractors get their checks and their permits and all the gifts go out to the women you've fucked in the last week?

  Of course I didn't say that. Instead, I ignored the urge to climb on Dylan's lap and plant a forearm across his throat until he managed to conjure up an actual apology or at least a compliment that wasn't backhanded.

  I started expanding my bullet list.

  * Call King!

  With that little passive-aggressive act out of the way, I opened up the folder for the hotel and club we were renovating in Los Angeles. We had purchased the building at the beginning of the year. I was running a team of decorators to add their own L.A. touch to Riona's interior designs. I also had contract offers out to the carpenters, drywall installers, painters and engineers who would turn the suites on the VIP floor into kink central. Having just fired the first computer security programmers whose job it was to keep the playrooms and certain cubby holes in the master bedrooms locked down when the room was occupied by guests who might not like the suites' special accoutrements or were traveling with more than their play partner, I had to find a new team that I could trust to be discreet.

  Oh, and then I had to answer Dylan's phone, type his letters and probably wipe his ass.

  A scream from the back of the plane interrupted my internal tirade against my boss. I tensed, but tried not to show it. Even if no such sound had ever left my throat, I knew the nature of Alexa's cry.

  Pure carnal pleasure.

  The sound repeated and I couldn't help but roll my eyes at the door. What the hell was Jake doing to her that her moans and pleas for more could be heard despite all the sounds made by a jet in flight?

  And why couldn't I get a guy to do that to me?

  Feeling a blush burning my cheeks, I rubbed at one side of my face, the side Dylan could see. I risked a glance in his direction. My gaze bumped against his. We both quickly turned away from one another.

  Damn!

  My skin flushed hotter at the realization Dylan knew I was getting turned on. He was probably having a big, big laugh at my expense. At least he kept it buried inside him. He probably would pull it out later, sharing his amusement with the next woman he fucked.

  My fat executive assistant getting turned on by my brother fucking some fetish model at the back of the plane.

  Har-har-har.

  Dickweed.

  "Joey...I..."

  Waving him off, I jumped to my feet, my legs almost abandoning me as my brain was slow to remember I was on a plane traveling hundreds of miles an hour.

  "I need to check on our landing time," I said just before I disappeared into the cockpit and stayed there until Jake and Alexa had returned to the main cabin and the pilots were ready for us to make our descent.

  ********************

  The limo ride from the airport to the resort had me drowning in cuteness. Stuck next to Dylan in the backseat, I had a bird's eye view of Jake and Alexa. They sat smashed together, Jake's arm protectively around her shoulders as she had to suffer through the proximity of his big brother.

  Jake absently twirled the thick red strands of her hair. When she caught him doing it, he kissed her. Both their faces glowed. It made me happy to see and utterly miserable at the same time.

  Maintaining as much distance as I could from Dylan, I hugged the window on my side of the seat. Too bad I couldn't escape him altogether. He kept asking questions about the evening's arrangements. I think he wanted to frighten Alexa with the idea of how many people would watch her quivering all over the stage.

  I did my best to downplay everything, leaving me exhausted when we actually arrived at the hotel. Jake and Alexa escaped the limo's confines first, so I had to walk alone with Dylan into the lobby of the hotel.

  Staff I recognized from our prior visits flocked around us. And then Fritz Mueller materialized out of nowhere, giving my day its first dose of the creeps. I kept my gaze away from him until Dylan asked if I was in my usual room.

  Like Dylan knew where my usual room was beyond some vague understanding that I could navigate from my mini-suite to his palatial one in about three minutes whenever he summoned me for work.

  The click of heels had me glancing at Mueller to see him smiling as he answered. "I placed a fresh arrangement of gladiolas in the room this morning, Miss Dekker."

  Something in his expression or the yellow-brown gaze made my stomach churn. Before I could muster up a polite "thank you," someone grabbed my elbow, the grip so tight I thought it might stop the flow of blood to my fingers.

  It was Dylan, his face cold and his words clipped as he spoke to Fritz. "On whose account?"

  Fritz looked like a mouse that had just caught the scent of a mountain lion.

  His head dipped with a short, but obsequious, bob. "The house's, sir."

  "I am the house," Dylan reminded him as he steered me toward the elevator. "That will be all."

  Apparently, Fritz didn't agree. He stepped in front of Dylan to inform him that Austin Long, the biggest of all our targets and a potential partner for some of the locations in the Middle East, had arrived and was waiting in the executive offices upstairs.

  Certainly such information needed to be delivered, but not with Fritz's sneering tone.

  The grip on my arm tightened until I placed my hand over Dylan's in a silent plea for him to ease up. He did, but only by a fraction. I could feel tension vibrating through his arm. His body temperature must have gone up as well because the deep scent of his cologne washed over me and started to do funny things to my body.

  In two years, I had seen Dylan irritated and angry at any number of people, mostly his brother. But I had not once seen him look like he was on the edge of violence.

  "Should I tell him he'll have to wait?" Fritz asked, his smug smile inching higher.

  My heart beat a little faster as Dylan's body leaned closer to the man. I looked at Jake, hoping he realized something had suddenly gone very wrong and he needed to intervene.

  "When does Austin Long wait, especially when he has the upper hand?" Jake asked with a laugh.

  A long moment passed before Dylan rolled his eyes at his younger brother, his face finally easing into a smile. "He hears you saying that, and you're in more trouble than you can handle, Junior."

  Jake poked back. "Impossible. You off all people should know there's no trouble I can't handle, old man."

  My impression that the tension in my boss had blown over was mistaken. His eyes slid toward Alexa, his lips parted.

  I jerked my elbow from his grip. "Stop measuring cocks, boys. You're keeping Mr. Long, his guest and me waiting."

  I pivoted and started walking as fast as I could toward the elevators with the ridiculous hope that Dylan would stop looking for a fight with everyone arou
nd him and follow me.

  Halfway to the elevators, my optimism was rewarded as his shoulder brushed against mine. Risking a glance in his direction, I found Dylan staring intently at me. I couldn't read his thoughts, but I could see he wasn't watching where he was going, which just happened to be toward one of the expensive marble columns added to the lobby four months ago.

  Grabbing the sleeve of his jacket, I tugged him closer to me until the obstacle was avoided. When I released the fabric and moved to pull away, he hooked my pinkie finger.

  My heart jumped up to lodge in my throat.

  What the hell was going on with Dylan? He had looked like he wanted to flatten Fritz a minute ago. Then he laughed along with Jake's joke before side-eyeing Alexa. And hooking my finger like that? Like we were in high school and he wanted to go steady when he hadn't even acknowledge the gift earlier...

  Hearing Jake and Alexa just a few feet behind us, I freed my hand and held it close to my side. As they pulled even with us, I caught the tail end of their conversation, Jake telling her something about how a man's desires were the same regardless of which god he worshipped.

  "Goddess," I shot back, hoping to wedge my way into their talk so I could ignore Dylan until I had escaped to my room. "I know you're enamored with what's between your legs, but it's not a penis you're actually worshipping."

  Crap -- did I really just say that? My gaze jumped to the elder Kehoe. Dylan looked ready to wash my mouth out with soap. Jake only laughed and threw me a wink.

  "Right as always, little goddess."

  Dylan's head swiveled toward his brother, his gaze narrowing.

  This was getting worse by the second. What the hell had gotten into the man?

  In the space of a few heartbeats, I replayed the last week in my head, looking for a cause. He was worried about Jake and Riona, frustrated with both of them. One of his employees had just tried to win a pissing contest with him in his own hotel...