by Penny Wylder
She has a quality about her that I love; her desire to just be normal. No matter how much her family has and can give her, she still wants to do something on her own. So, here she is, working in PR with me, trying to get her name out there.
Her dream is to manage a famous actor one day, and with her drive, I know she'll get there. It all comes with connections, and what better way to get connected than professional fighting?
Bouncing her brows up and down quickly, she grins. “Come on, spit it out, what he's got you doing? Maybe I can help.”
He's killing me slowly, but you'll see that soon enough once the tabloids get a hold of it.
I should just tell her.
Phade was such a jerk about Daniel, I should let her know so she can learn who he really is. He's more than just a good looking face and sexy smile, with muscles on top of muscles; he's a judgmental asshole.
He has no right to say anything about how I was raised. He doesn't know what my life was like before Daniel, and he doesn't know how much that man has done for my mother—or for me.
He became more than just my mother's husband, he's become a role model, a person I’m inspired to be like; he's become my father.
Daniel taught me how to ride a bike, he taught me how to drive a car, and how to protect myself if I need to. Daniel is always there for me.
So when Phade calls him an asshole, it doesn't just put Daniel down, it hurts me too. No one is perfect, not even Phade Brass Knuckles Manson, but at least Daniel tries. He tries to be a dad to me, that's all that really counts in my book.
“It's silly really, Dan—” The rest of the words are at the edge of my tongue, but that's as far as they make it. I'm rendered speechless as his face appears behind Claudia from out of nowhere, as if just my thinking about him made him manifest from thin air.
“Hey, sorry to interrupt,” Phade says as he taps the partition and then touches his chest.
Claudia's face instantly explodes into a smile as she steps further into my cubical. Turning to face him, she playfully slaps his hand. “Phade, you scared me.”
“Sorry, I didn't mean to, Chris—” he starts to say, but is quickly cut off.
“Claudia, Claudia Tanner, we met awhile back, I helped you fill out your information for HR.”
“Right, right, Claudia.” His eyes drift to mine as his voice fades. Phade smiles as he runs his eyes up and down my body. “Syl, you look nice today.”
I can see it in Claudia's face as her mouth parts slightly, and her eyes dart between us; confusion, disbelief—jealousy.
She's made it obvious to me how much she likes this guy and finds him sexy; just like every other woman in America right now.
And I fucked him.
The thought makes my thighs clench on impulse, sending a wave of heat through my body. In that same breath, my heart aches knowing that I've had what she wants.
All I want to do is slink down and hide under my desk. I don't like the way either of them is looking at me. I'm nervous and uncomfortable, and my legs itch to run in the opposite direction.
Brushing a strand of hair behind my ear, I adjust the planner on my desk and swallow hard. Sitting up straight, I try to act professional. “Can I help you with something?”
“I'm sure you can, you can always help me with something.” He grins wide, and winks. Claudia shifts her head between us, jaw crooking to the side hard as she lets out an audible breath.
Fuck, Phade! Don't do this here!
“What is it, Phade?” I try to keep the hiccup out of my tone, that little hint of nervousness. Claudia already looks suspicious enough, I don't want to have to explain anything to her here like this, with Phade standing in the background, gawking at me like a horny puppy dog.
I plan to tell her what's going on, but when the time is right. And now is definitely not the time.
He looks good today, a little too good in his fitted gray t-shirt that hugs his arms and shoulders, and dark blue jeans with work boots. His hair is slicked back, and he's wearing the sexiest shade of five o'clock shadow.
I can smell his cologne, and it's distracting. I can't concentrate with him so close to me. Rugged and strong, my heart skips and stomach drops. I'm blushing, I can feel the warmth in my cheeks as the blood flushes my skin.
No! Not happening!
I'm not letting him do this to me.
Phade steps into my space, his broad shoulders and thick arms enough to crowd my tiny office. Holding out his hand, he looks at Claudia. “I'm sorry, can I get a word with Sylvia in private?”
“No, she's fine where she is,” I answer quickly, not giving her a chance to say yes. I really don't want to be alone with him, not now, not ever. There's a weird blend of anger and lust that's filling my belly, and I'm not sure which one will win. “What is it? What did you come here for?”
Phade runs his hand over his head and sucks in a quick breath. “I have something I want to show you.”
“All right,” I say, shrugging my shoulder, “so, show me.”
His smirk deepens as his eyes glaze over with a sexy haze. “I love a girl who is ready and willing.”
“Phade, if you're just going to—”
“I know, I know, you're a very busy woman.” Softening his eyes, he lets his stare settle on my face. “But I really do have something to show you.” Glancing down at the watch on his wrist, he looks up at the ceiling, lips moving without sound. “We don't have much time, we need to leave now if we're going to make it.”
“I'll go if you need someone,” Claudia says, holding up her hand like she's in class. “I don't have anything going on right now, and Sylvia has something important to do for Daniel, so. . .”
Taking a second to look at her, he frowns. “Sorry, but I really need to show Syl.” Taking a firm step forward, he grabs my wrist and pulls me out of my seat. “Come on, we can't be late.” He starts to move, then stops short. “What are you wearing for shoes?”
“What?” I ask, confused by the question. “I'm wearing flats, why?”
“Good enough,” he says sharply, tugging me out of my cubicle and towards the exit.
“I'll be back soon, Claudia, I have no idea what's going on right now.” My lids lower, brows folding in apology. “I'm sorry,” I mouth silently.
Crossing her arms, she looks bewildered and hurt all at once. I wish I had taken the opportunity to explain this to her earlier. Then she would know it's all business, and not a choice of my own. Daniel is the one pulling the strings on this, there's nothing I can do.
“I don't know what the hell you're doing,” I say, whispering to Phade as I follow him to the elevator. “But this isn't the Phade show.”
“Are you sure about that?” he asks, peering down at me from over his shoulder. “Because you and Daniel could have fooled me.” Chuckling to himself, he hits the button for the lobby and is smiling to himself as the doors close. “What's the deal with your friend there? She didn't seem very happy.”
“My friend is a little confused.” My voice is dry and short. I'm not in the mood for his games today; not after last night's dinner. “And you're not helping with that.”
“She wants to fuck me, doesn't she?”
“Full of yourself much? You do realize you're not the center of everything, right?”
“I call it how it is. Ain't no rose colored glasses here, sweetheart.” He nibbles on his bottom lip as he leans against the wall and fiddles with his fingers. “You should try taking yours off sometime. It'll blow you away, I promise you that.”
“Not everyone you meet wants to fuck you, Phade. I know you think they do, but you're sorely wrong.”
“You did,” he says, glancing at me from the corner of his eyes. “Did you tell her we fucked?” Turning his eyes back to the elevator doors, I can see his smile spread wider. I don't answer him, the silence is all he needs to know the truth. “That's what I thought. So, who's making this about me again?”
“You know what,” I snap, grabbing his bicep to make h
im face me. My hand curls around the muscle, it's solid and firm, and I can't stop my fingers from exploring a little bit. “You're not. . .” He flexes, I suck in a quick breath of air, choking on it as it goes down. “You don't. . .”
What the hell was I saying?
Shit! I lost my train of thought!
“I don't what?” he asks, tilting his head.
Yanking my fingers off his arm, I take a step back. “You don't make the rules, and you don't get to just show up unannounced like this and steal me away.”
“I don't?” Phade takes a step in, forcing me to take another step back.
“Like I said before, this isn't the Phade Show.”
Phade looks up at the camera in the corner of the elevator. Licking his lips, he mirrors my movements, staying with me. “Want to make it the Sylvia and Phade show instead? Think anyone is watching?”
“Oh no, no, no, no.” Shaking my head, my lids shoot open. “We can't and we're not. Not here, not now, not ever again. What happened between us was a mistake, that's all it was.”
“There's no such thing as a mistake in life.” He smiles wider, sinister and sexy all at once. “You do or you don't. And you did—we did.”
“It should never have happened.”
Moving his shoulders fast, a gust of his cologne washes over my face. Taking in a deep breath, I try not to let him see it. Phade really is a hard man to deny. Everything about him screams bad boy, dripping in sex appeal, and drenched in pussy wetting good looks.
I'm wetter than I've ever been right now. It's crazy and I can't wrap my head around it. One glance from this man and my panties are soaked, and my body is ready to bend over and give him full access.
It's animalistic, pure intoxicating desire that just surges through my system. And I can't stop it. I can't turn it off. I can't avoid it. Not when he's so close.
“Oh yeah, says who? You?” He steps in hard and fast, pinning me against the back wall. “I don't believe you. I can see it in your eyes, in your body, in the way you're breathing. You enjoyed every second with me and you still think about it.” Lowering his face to mine, he hovers his lips over my cheek, moving from one side to the other. Never touching my skin but enticing me to beg him for a kiss. “What you say means nothing, when your body tells me the truth.”
“Words are all that matter. Does it bother you when a woman rejects you?”
Holding my head up high, I challenge him. He thinks I can't resist him, he thinks he sees something in my movements. But what about him? Maybe he just doesn't like the word no?
“Honey, if this was about rejection, we wouldn't have hooked up the other night. Obviously, you're attracted to me, and I'm attracted to you.”
Using the tips of his fingers, he pushes the hair back out of my eyes and kisses my forehead. My eyes jump to the camera in the corner and Phade laughs.
“Don't worry, it doesn't work.” He runs the tips of his fingers across the waist of my skirt, slipping them under until they find skin. They move back and forth, slow, methodically, caressing in soft strokes.
Sucking in a ragged breath of air, my belly shakes as he moves lower. His hand slides down the outside of my thigh, then back up underneath my skirt. I'm trembling now, shaking so intensely I have to bite my lip to keep it still.
“Phade—” I mutter quietly, without any real force or demand.
“Yes,” he says, not as a question looking for an answer, but as confirmation. His fingers trace up my slit, peeling my panties away. “You're so fucking wet right now.”
“Phade—” I say his name again, only to lose the air in my lungs as he plunges a finger deep inside my pussy.
Buckling at my knees, he quickly wraps his arm around my waist and holds me in place. In and out, in and out, he fucks me with his finger. Leaning forward, he presses his hard cock against my thigh.
“Fuck, you're soaked. I love that,” he says quietly, his hand picking up pace.
He's breathing hard in my ear as he rubs my clit, massaging it vigorously. I can see a delirious haze coating his dark eyes. He's peering down at me, watching me intently, drinking up the way my body is folding for him.
A second finger spreads me wider, and he curls them both up inside. I spread my legs giving him more room, pushing open, my palms against the wall of the elevator. Slurping sounds fill the small space between us as he gyrates his hips. He twists his fingers, rubbing at a rough patch in my cunt and working it.
Is that my g-spot?
A wave of tingles rushes through my body, followed by another and another. I'm so close, almost at the edge, ready to open my arms and take that jump.
Suddenly, he's gone. The surge of adrenaline, the tingles and shakes, and waves of pleasure just disappear. I'm standing breathless, confused, my mouth hanging open and my pussy clenching air, searching for him.
“Wh. . . why'd you stop?”
“We're out of time.” Phade moves his fingers to his lips and sucks my arousal off, moaning as he licks them clean. “You taste incredible though.” Taking a hat out of his pocket, he puts it on, and places a pair of sunglasses over his eyes.
The bell dings and the doors spread open. Phade pushes his way out, grabbing my hand and taking me along as other people climb into the elevator. I feel like a mess. My body is on fire, my heart is racing, my skin is sweating, and I can't think straight.
I move with him in a daze through the lobby, his fingers curled tightly around my wrist. The same fingers he just had inside my body, still warm and damp. All I can think about is fucking him. Nothing else.
But as the fresh air hits my face, that fog starts to lift, and my body seems to settle. Phade walks with confidence, he doesn't seem flustered at all. He keeps his head forward, maneuvering through the bustling lobby with ease.
No one even looks twice at him, as if the hat and glasses really do change his appearance. He's Superman in his hidden identity, blending in with the rest of the world as if he's normal.
And for that brief second, I'm normal with him. We're nobodies in a sea of nobodies.
Two regular people walking hand in hand.
It all feels right.
Too right.
8
Sylvia
I'm standing next to Phade on the street. He has his face slightly buried in his chest, his hands in his pockets, and he's leaning against the metal pole.
Even right now, doing something as normal and boring as standing, he still looks sexy, like he was positioned here for a clothing ad. I take an extra second to watch him, enjoying the view.
“What are you thinking?” he asks, not moving or turning to look at me. He keeps his face straight ahead, his eyes hidden behind the sunglasses.
“Honestly, I'm wondering why we're standing here like this?”
“Because we're waiting for the bus.”
“The what?” I ask, not sure I heard him right.
Phade Manson does not take the bus. Not the Phade I know. The Phade I know is conceited, he's too hopped up on his own version of royalty that he would never set foot on a bus.
“The bus,” he says clearly. “Or are you too privileged to even know what that is?”
“I know what a bus is, jerk, but why are we waiting for one?”
“I want to show you something, I told you that.”
Looking up and down the street, I see car after car parked at the curb. One of them has to be his and he's screwing with me. “You're not serious. You're messing with me right?”
“I'm very serious,” he says, lifting his sunglasses slightly to look up the street at a bus coming our way. “Here we go, this is us.”
The bus screeches to a stop, the doors open wide, and Phade starts to get on. Grabbing his wrist, I pull hard. “Wait, you're not really getting on this, are you?”
“I am, and so are you, let's go.” Taking my hand, he pulls back, climbing the steps. Reluctantly, I climb up behind him. Letting my hand go, he takes some money from his pocket and drops it into the box. “I like s
itting in the middle, what about you?”
“I. . . I don't know, I've never taken a bus before.”
Phade stops and glances at me over his shoulder. “So, I'm popping your cherry am I? It won't hurt, I promise.”
“Shut up,” I say with a giggle, slapping the back of his shoulder. “Just pick a seat.”
He laughs softly and slips into a row of seats in the center of the bus. Taking the center seat, he waves his hand for me to sit by the window. “I'll let you have the window.”
Scooting by him, I can feel his eyes on my ass. “Like the view?” I ask as I drop into my seat.
“You know I do.” Smiling, he licks his lips, lifting his glasses and giving me a wink.
“Alright, calm down, I don't want you to get yourself too excited. How about you just tell me where we're going now?”
“Nope.” Pulling the hat down over his face, he rests his head back as he relaxes into the seat. “It's a surprise.”
Huffing under my breath, I repeat his words. “A surprise, of course.” Looking out the window, the bus pulls away from the stop, and I just watch the buildings as we drive.
Phade is snoring almost instantly, his head bobbling around on his shoulders as we hit bumps and dips in the road.
Sighing to myself, I rest my chin on my hand and just look out the window. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little excited. No one has ever wanted to surprise me with something. I'm a planner, a numbers girl, a woman who has to have everything all mapped out.
There are no surprises in my life. . . Until recently.
The buildings start to thin out, becoming further and further apart. The new bricks are being replaced by broke down, windowless buildings. Most are covered in graffiti, tagged with images and symbols.
Garbage fills the ditches on the side of the road, stray cats climb around dumpsters, and there are cars missing wheels or rusted out, decorating vacant parking lots and side streets.
The glimmer of excitement I'm feeling begins to disappear as the bus slows down outside an abandoned factory. Looking around, it starts to sink in that the few people left are immersed in their phones or chatting with the person at their side. No one is getting up, and no one else is getting on.