Scorpio

by Lauren Landish

  It makes me want to slow dance, and I sigh, looking out at the rink. “What is it?” Scott asks, setting his food down. “The song?”

  I nod, chuckling. “I told you I used to work here, but before that, I was pretty much a rink kid. Aunt May would drop me off at the old ice arena downtown in the summer because she worked near there. I’d skate and hang out with my friends. I thought I was going to be a professional figure skater. At the time, I had no idea about the costs involved or that I was . . . well, let’s face it, name one Olympic ice skater over five foot five or with bigger than B-cup boobs.”

  Scott pretends to think for a moment. “Nope, never been done. But you could’ve been the first.”

  “Yeah, right. Anyway, I did one competition, when I was eight, to this song. I didn’t even have a proper costume, just a dance leotard and tights that Aunt May bedazzled for me. But I felt like a princess out there, everyone cheering for me as I skated my heart out. I even hit the one jump I had.”

  “Show me.”

  “What?” I ask, taken aback. “You mean on the ice? I haven’t put on skates since I quit working here.”

  “Well, no time like the present. Besides, what have you got to lose?”

  I’ve got a lot to lose. I feel like I’m just starting to find my footing again, with myself and maybe even with Scott. I know I’ve got some baggage, some damage, but literally falling on my ass sounds like it might be more than my fragile ego can take. Still, skating is one thing I know I’m good at, and if I don’t take some calculated risks, I won’t get any rewards. And something tells me I’d like Scott’s rewards a lot. Finally, I nod, letting a smile sneak across my face.

  “All right, I am the Queen of Blades. But if I’m going out there, you are too.”

  Scott grins. “Just give me ten minutes and I’ll be the King,” he says with a confidence that is just so sexy. “Remember, I said I knew how to skate? Hockey, not figure, but I guess I’ll figure it out.”

  I groan at the bad pun but still grin. “Just don’t bust your ass when you have to deal with a toe pick.”

  It takes us a few minutes to get our skates, and even though they’re crap rentals, Scott doesn’t seem to mind as I lead him out on the ice. Dolly is done by the time we step out, but the next song isn’t too bad.

  I start him off with basic strokes, teaching him the little I remember on how to ice dance. I guide his hands to my hips, and it feels good as he holds me with a sure, firm grip. He’s confident in everything he does, even when he’s not a hundred percent sure about it . . . but I’m starting to like that about him. It makes me feel more confident too, willing to go out on a limb and even fly a bit.

  As we circle the ice, leaning this way and that and making basic strokes, I can feel myself starting to relax. The way Scott looks at me . . . I haven’t felt a man look at me like this in a very long time, and it makes the butterflies in my belly come to life and start fluttering again.

  We move closer, and I can feel the warmth from his body as he lowers his lips toward mine. I feel a bump at my back as we hit the wall, but my eyes are still locked on Scott, and I see the tilt of a smile on his lips as he takes in our new position, with me pinned against the wall by his body. He reaches for the wall beside me, caging me in his arms, but his skates swoosh out from underneath him and he’s suddenly flailing for purchase. I grab his arm, helping him stabilize, and I realize we have an audience when I hear laughter as a teenager whizzes by and yells at him, “Smooth moves, buddy.”

  Scott laughs, inching over to stand beside me and holding onto the wall. “Guess I still need a few more lessons.”

  A new song starts, and Scott offers me his hand. “Let’s try again.”

  The song’s old. I remember this Wyclef song from way back when I worked here, but the remix of Stayin’ Alive still gets people skating and having fun. We join in, just flowing around the rink, not doing anything too complex, just some swizzles and other basic moves until Scott pivots and starts skating backward, holding my hands. “See? Told you I can skate.”

  I watch as he shifts his hips left and right. It’s not much, and not even that graceful, if I’m honest, but he might as well be performing a full-out Magic Mike show as far as I’m concerned. I’m mesmerized by the movement for a moment, and when I look up, Scott has a shit-eating look on his face. Busted! I push at his chest, gently so I don’t knock him off balance. “Okay, so you can skate and you can wiggle your ass to move backward like a hockey player.”

  “And you like it,” he growls, teasing me.

  I raise my eyebrows, liking that tone almost as much as the way he moves. “Well, I’m not complaining!”

  “Good,” Scott says, deftly taking the curve with me.

  Wyclef stops, and I hold my breath, hoping for another good song. Fate must be intervening because Fifth Harmony comes on. “Ooh, okay . . . last one.”

  “Well come on, one last dance and then we’ll get some dessert,” he says, taking my hand and leading me back around. This time, he takes charge, even as the then five-member group goes on about girl power. But it’s okay. I’m having a great time, the two of us really dancing on the ice and moving our bodies.

  As the song ends, we sit down and Scott grunts, taking off his skates and showing me toes that look like they’ve been squished. “Ouch. What happened?”

  “Had to grab a pair two sizes too small,” Scott says with a chuckle. “It’s okay. I’ll feel all ten of them in a few minutes.”

  He gets up, limping with me to the return counter. I reach over and take his hand. “Tell me, Mr. Danger—was it worth it?”

  He grins. “For you? Of course, it was.”

  Scott motions toward the door. “Come on, I saw the desserts here. Didn’t look fresh at all.”

  “Okay,” I agree. We head out, and the car is still in the lot by some miracle I don’t understand.

  “Where to?”

  He’s giving me a chance to call it a date and go home. But going back to my apartment alone is the last thing I want to do right now. Reaching across the space between us, I put my hand over his.

  “Show me more of you,” I say. “I feel like you’ve seen me at work, came to my apartment, and I picked skating because I was comfortable with it. I want to see you too . . . the real you. Take me wherever that is, whatever feels right.”

  He pauses, looking out ahead. “You sure?”

  My heart hammers in my chest. I don’t know where he’s going to take me, but somehow, I know exactly how it’s going to end. And I don’t know if I should be overflowing with excitement or fucking terrified.

  Despite the emotions I feel bubbling inside, I flash a radiant smile. “Absolutely.”

  Scott grins and starts the car, and again I’m serenaded with the purr of the engine. This time, it turns me on.

  “Buckle up.”

  Chapter 10

  Scott

  Daily Horoscope, September 30th

  Scorpio - Opening yourself to the slings and arrows of others also opens you to new opportunities.

  Turning down Bane Boulevard, I glance at Madison, who’s looking around agog. “Ever been in this neighborhood before?”

  She nods, then shakes her head. “Does catching the bus to go to the DMV count? I mean, I’ve ridden through here, but that’s about it.”

  I nod and point ahead of us. Danger Tower dominates the downtown skyline. It’s like a fortress rising up in the middle of the city. Sure, maybe by the time I retire, there’ll be bigger buildings. Bane is growing by leaps and bounds, after all . . . or maybe I’ll be the one to build something bigger and better than Danger Enterprises.

  Either way, as we pull up, Madison’s neck is twisted as she tries to crane to see the whole building. She looks to me as we enter the parking structure underneath. “All of this is Danger Enterprises?”

  “No, just the top five floors,” I reply. “We rent out the rest. Makes the company a tidy profit.”

  I lead Madison over to the executive
elevator, which allows me to bypass normal night security with the swipe of an ID card and a PIN code. “I’ll take you up to my floor first.”

  Our stomachs drop as we go up, the express elevator creating a type of whoosh effect. Madison squeals, “Whoo, oh my gosh!” as she stumbles a bit.

  I reach out to steady her, my hand on her hip. I can feel the dip in her waist beneath my palm, and I’m tempted to squeeze her, pull her closer to me, but she’s just getting her footing. I look down at her. “Should’ve warned you about that. I’m just used to it, I guess.”

  “Not sure I’d want to get used to that. It felt like a roller coaster.” Madison laughs, and I’m delighted that when she’s surrounded by all this fancy steel and chrome inside a building most folks would love a chance to visit, she’s impressed with a fast elevator ride. Something so simple, and yet . . . new, with her by my side.

  I watch her reactions closely, knowing she’ll love what comes next. As we get higher, the back wall becomes transparent, giving a tinted view of the city before and below us. I see her eyes light up and her jaw drop as she gasps . . . but she’s more beautiful than the view outside.

  “Oh, my God, it’s a glass elevator! I feel like Willy Wonka!”

  “Yep, best views in the whole building from here,” I admit. We’re silent, watching Bane reveal itself as we climb into the sky, stopping three floors from the top. “Here we are.”

  I feel a familiar change as the doors open, and as I step out, I’m not just Scott Danger, guy on a date with a really sexy woman anymore. I’m also Scott Danger, Executive Vice President of Danger Enterprises. The weight of the change is a heavy mantle on my shoulders, but it feels right. Or at least it feels . . . normal.

  “This is the bullpen,” I say, referring to the short cubicle area that dominates the center of the room. “All of my junior analysts work here, arranged into sub-teams that allow them to talk over the cubicle walls if needed.”

  Madison nods as she looks around. “And the doors?”

  “Offices for team leaders and senior executives. I’ve tried to place them close to their teams as best I can . . . and this is my office.”

  I open the oak doors to my office, and I can see Madison’s breath catch, her hand coming to her mouth as she looks it all over. “My God. Are you serious?”

  I smile, walking in comfortably and sitting behind the desk. Madison’s steps are tentative as she comes in, her eyes roving around the room. I wonder what she thinks. Does she like the furniture, the view, me sitting in the middle of my world? “The windows are my favorite part. That chair over there is where I do my best thinking.”

  Madison moves to the armchair near the bank of windows and runs her hand along the soft leather. I’m jealous of the chair, wishing her touch was chasing along my skin. She sits in my chair, her smile wide and teasing. “How do I look, sir?”

  I lean forward. “You look fucking perfect in my office and in my chair.” I see the blush rush across her cheeks and can’t help the whisper that escapes. “Beautiful.”

  I rise and move to sit in front of Madison on the big block that serves as a table. “You said to show you more of me. That’s why I brought you here. This is me. Where I spend my days and nights, my time and energy, my everything. I saw your work. I wanted to show you mine.”

  Madison looks around the room once again, and I can see her assessment. I hope she doesn’t find it lacking, the room or me. She takes my hand, her eyes meeting mine. “It’s stunning, truly gorgeous, Scott.”

  “But?” I ask, because it’s obvious that’s going to be the next phrase out of her mouth. She’s not impressed and it cuts my heart. It’s never enough, not for my dad, and not even for Madison, apparently.

  Madison winces, hearing the harshness of my leading question. “But . . . are you happy? It’s pretty, of course, but it’s just a building. An office. Are you happy here? That’s what matters, Scott.”

  I can’t answer that, not for her and not for myself. I grip her hand tighter, pulling her to her feet as I stand. “Come on. There’s something else I want to show you.”

  Madison’s looking a little unsure of herself as we take the elevator all the way to the top floor, and I can almost read her mind as she quietly watches the elevator come to a stop. She thinks this is a ploy to impress her and get in her pants. That I’m doing this for a quick one-night stand and have probably done this a million times before.

  She’d never believe me if I told her otherwise, so I say nothing as the doors open. But I don’t let go of her hand as I lead her out to my dad’s floor of Danger Tower.

  “Are we supposed to be up here, Scott?” Madison looks nervous, biting her lip as she looks around. The decor on this floor is more inline with my dad’s taste . . . shiny and minimalist, much like the man. It feels cold, austere.

  She looks cute, flustered, and wide-eyed. I’m tempted to take her right here, but this isn’t the place. Not in some hallway.

  “Come on, the boardroom’s just ahead,” I say, pulling her along with me.

  I don’t say anything as I open the doors to the boardroom. The room is striking in its own way, with white walls covered in hand-selected contemporary art and white leather chairs surrounding a dark wood and metal table.

  “So, what happens here?”

  “Not as much as you might think,” I admit, looking around. “But this . . . this is sort of the altar of the company. Here’s where final decisions are made, where you sink or swim. So far, I’ve swum better than I’ve sunk, but I’m going to stand at the other end of this table one day. This company is going to be mine. Despite what my father or brother says, I’ll be the one who takes over and leads Danger Enterprises into the future.”

  Madison nods and places a hand on my shoulder. “Show me.”

  I look over and smile, nodding before going to the front of the table and spreading my hands, placing them on the edge as I look over the empty seats, imagining them filled with board members who are looking to me for that final nod . . . that I’m the king at the top of Danger Enterprises. It feels good, and I look up at Madison, who’s giving me an odd expression. “How do I look?”

  “Powerful,” she says, coming around the table and approaching me. “Like you’re at home. Like you have everything you want.”

  “I don’t have everything I want,” I reply as she gets closer, looking into her whiskey eyes with fierce intensity, feeling drunk on the fantasy of leading this empire and drunk on her looking at me like I can be that man.

  Madison licks her lips and looks up at me. “What is it that you still want?”

  “You,” I growl, pulling her close. She doesn’t resist as I sit her on the edge of the table in front of me, caging her in with my arms on either side. She’s panting, and I can see the pulse in her neck quickening.

  The first touch of her lips on mine is like an explosion going off. I’m ravenous, devouring her mouth as I taste her tongue, my hands roaming over her back to cup her ass and squeeze. Madison moans, adding fuel to my fire.

  Kissing down her neck, I bury my face in the valley between her breasts, inhaling deeply and relishing in her intoxicating scent. I’m lifting her top to find her bra when she pushes me away a little, gasping for breath. “Wait. We shouldn’t do this here.”

  I groan, my cock so fucking hard it’s pressing against my zipper “Why not?”

  “This is the board room. What if someone found out?”

  I shake my head, running my hand up and underneath Madison’s top, underneath her bra and rubbing one stiff nipple, making her gasp. “No one is going to find out.”

  “Still . . .” She groans, objecting even as she arches her back to press her tit into my grasp more.

  “Yeah . . . makes me want to do it even more. Fuck you right here on this table, and then every boring meeting I have to sit through, I’ll be fantasizing about tonight. Thinking of how good you looked spread out for me, taking my cock right here on the boardroom table.”

  Befor
e Madison can reply, my lips find her neck again, sucking and tasting her warm skin, and she presses against me, her need just as intense as mine. I pull her top off, then her bra before laying her back on the polished wood of the table. I kiss down lower, finding the soft cushion of her breast capped with a hard nipple that fits perfectly between my lips and teeth as I suck. “Fuck, yes, Scott . . . just like that.”

  I’m careful at first, walking that line of giving her enough to tantalize, but not so much that she shatters too soon. She’s sensitive, and her every response tells me just how much she wants this.

  It seems like I’ve wanted her forever. Since that first night, she’s been in my mind, in my dreams, and in my fantasies. Time is oddly disproportionate to my need.

  I kiss down Madison’s body to the waistband of her shorts and pause, looking at the silkiness of her stomach and wanting to ravage her, to pound her mercilessly and unleash all my desire . . . but holding back, savoring the moment. I lay a line of sweet kisses along her belly, giving myself a moment to calm, my breath shuddering as I try to wrangle my fraying control.

  “Scott.”

  I look up and see the desire flaring in her eyes as she lifts her hips. “You’re vibrating. I can feel you holding back. Don’t. Give me all of you. I can handle it. Please.”

  My intake of air hisses between us, the permission to not be a gentleman releasing a pressure in my mind I didn’t know I had. I stand up, nearly tearing her shorts and panties down her legs and tossing them to the floor.

  I collapse into the chair, my dad’s chair, at the head of the table. There’s something about taking that throne of power while I take control of Madison that’s doing strange things to my mind.

  Her bare pussy glistens with moisture right in front of me, and I lick my lips before kissing her inner thigh and dragging my tongue to the bottom of her pussy. In one long lick, I taste her honey from bottom to the hooded button of her clit, nibbling on it before licking lower.