by Nikky Kaye
“You need to take this seriously. A lot is riding on it.”
Yeah, his retainer. As trustees, his firm was shelling out a lot of green to put me up in a ritzy hotel and a car and driver, not to mention what he was paying Lexi. In fact, what was he paying Lexi? It suddenly occurred to me that I had no idea how much she was getting for “optimizing” me.
“And you!” He turned on Lexi.
“Leave her out of this, Cohen! She didn’t do anything.”
He ignored me. “You’re supposed to stop him from doing stupid stuff like this.”
Was that her job, really—to stop me from doing dumb shit? Or was it to point me in the direction of the smart kind of shit? I’d gotten over the irritation over having a handler, but that was mostly because Lexi could handle me pretty damn well.
She shrugged, her gaze meeting mine. “It was one Tweet. And from what I understand, he said nothing that was untrue.” The trusting smile on her face was just for me, and it struck me straight in the gut like a knife.
“Who cares if it’s true? It still looks bad to be criticizing your own goddamn company!”
“It’s not mine yet, Cohen.”
“Exactly.”
Cohen turned to face the wall of windows looking out over Manhattan. There was a nice view from his high horse, no doubt. But my experience with horses was that the higher you sat in the saddle, the further they threw you.
“Are you trying to screw this up, Lucas?” Cohen whined with his back to me.
I’d had enough of this bullshit. I spun on one booted heel and stalked over to where Lexi sat. The anger and injured pride burning in my chest dissipated as I took in her expression. She sat there calmly, looking at me with nothing but trust and belief that I was doing the right thing.
In barely a month, this woman had taken over my heart, brain, and some places lower down as well. She and I had nothing in common, but she was starting to get me. But strangely, the more I knew her the less I understood her.
When she took me to the book club, I’d felt totally out of place. I’d thought she fit in with the men better than I did, with her society manners and her serene beauty. I was downright shocked after when she told me how uncomfortable she’d felt. I was so surprised that you could have knocked me over by blowing me a kiss.
“Been there, got the designer t-shirt,” she said with a shrug. “I have a hard time trusting anyone with lots of money, now.”
She’d looked out the window of the car on the way back to the hotel, the lights of the city sliding over her face in a hypnotic pattern.
Alexis Kincaid was still a bit of a mystery to me. She held herself straight and tall, but surely that chip on her shoulder got heavy after a while. When she gave me a real smile—with her eyes—something inside me melted a little, like butter sitting out in the sun.
It wasn’t just that she was beautiful or strong or funny. It was more like she refused to think of herself as any of those things, like those qualities had been taken away with her inheritance, or with the gun that her father put to his head.
“I’m sorry that was weird. Maggie didn’t really tell me what to expect,” she’d said as we pulled up in front of my hotel after the book club meeting.
Impulsively I leaned forward and slid the little window open to ask the driver to take us to her place.
She frowned. “What are you doing?”
“Trying to be a gentleman,” I said, taking her hand in mine. “I’m taking my date home.”
“But I live way, way uptown! Your hotel is right here.”
“Not any more.” I grinned as the car climbed up Broadway. “But if you like, I can get out here and walk back, and let the car take you home alone.”
Her hand tightened around mine. “No, that’s okay. You can stay.” Her gaze slid up and down me. “I’d hate for you to get mugged or something,” she said with a teasing smile.
“Hey, I can take care of myself!”
“I know. That’s what I’m worried about. You’d probably beat the crap out of the mugger, and you’re too pretty to go to jail.” She raised her hand to rub her thumb over my lower lip. Her touch made me stiffen all over.
“You’re playing with fire again, Alexis,” I murmured, softly kissing her thumb. God, I wanted to take her into my mouth. I wanted to suck hard enough to swallow her fingerprints.
She gasped as my tongue peeked out to taste her. Desire flared in her eyes. “Fire safety is important,” she said.
My fingers wrapped around her wrist as I held her hand to my mouth, and I moved on to the next finger. “Were you a girl scout?”
“Ha.” She sniffed. “I’ve never been prepared for anything in my life. Oh…” she moaned softly as I nibbled on the mound of flesh beneath her thumb. “Definitely not prepared for you.”
Silently, I made my way through a tasting menu of all her fingers, my tongue dipping between her knuckles. By the time I got to her trembling pinky finger, her other hand was twisted in my new jacket.
The car swerved to the side and lurched to a stop at a light. My stomach twisted. I shouldn’t have just grabbed her like that.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have kiss—”
With both her hands, she reached out for me and cupped the sides of my head, just behind my ears.
“Fuck, Lex—”
She stole the words out of my mouth, her lips closing on mine with fervor and need. The world moved around us outside, but all I saw and felt was Lexi’s silky blonde hair falling out of its elegant twist and softly sliding between my fingers.
Alexis twisted around and rose on her knees on the seat in order to straddle me. When her slim skirt prevented her from spreading her legs, she let out a little whine, kissing me harder. With a growl and very little concern for either of our reputations, I shoved her skirt up her thighs and pulled her over my lap.
“Luke!” she gasped against my mouth as my hands slid up the backs of her thighs. “Oh god.”
Her skirt was bunched up around her waist now as I gripped her ass and pushed her down on my aching cock. She ground against me, her hands twining around my neck and her mouth open against mine.
I’d gotten better at learning Lexi’s tells, and they were telling me that she was close to coming just from grinding against me. While that thrilled me on some level, I’d be damned if I was going to make her come for the first time in the back seat of a car. I had plans for her.
With great reluctance and my hands cupping her ass, I pulled her up so she knelt above me but not on me. I glanced out the window and realized that we were parked. We must have been at her apartment.
“Lexi, wait, honey.”
As she continued kissing me, my hands spread out to hold her up and my fingers splayed out to feel the dampness trickling down her inner thighs. Holy shit, she was dripping wet.
My cock felt like it was going to rip through my pants. “Ask me up,” I urged. “Ask me inside.” Please.
I shifted, one of my hands going straight between her legs. I couldn’t help it; I needed to feel her. I rubbed my knuckles against the sopping crotch of her panties, and she nearly screamed into my mouth.
“Come in, come in,” she panted, her hair falling against my face. Or maybe she was telling me that she was coming—it was hard to tell with our lips and teeth and fingers all tangled together in hot, intimate places.
Her body shook as one of my fingers slid underneath her panties and made direct contact with her pussy. My eyes nearly crossed and my throat felt dry.
“Inside, Luke!” She wiggled her hips and tried to push her pussy down on my finger. My sexy Lexi was this close to me finger fucking her in the back of the car. That was not gonna happen. I had more control, more class than that.
Well, more control anyhow.
“Upstairs. Apartment,” I growled. “Right the fuck now.”
But it was too late. She inhaled sharply, and as I tried to adjust her off my lap, my first two fingers slid into her heat and she came hard around t
hem.
Her responsiveness surprised the fuck out of me, and I was lucky I didn’t come in my pants myself like a teenager. As her whole body jerked, her hot tight walls spasmed around my lucky, lucky hand. It was possible it was an accident, but she keened into my mouth and rode it out like it was her grand plan.
She collapsed against me, pressing her burning face into my neck. Gently I extricated my hands, not trusting myself to touch her at all. I raised my fingers to my face, reveling in the smell of her come. She tasted sharp and tangy, and I promised myself that someday soon I would feel her fluttering straight onto my tongue.
With my hands clamped on her hips I moved her off my lap. My palms felt prickly with sweat as I tried to pull her skirt down and give her some dignity back. When I got a look at her face, it was flushed and damp. Her pupils were large in her bright eyes and her mouth was swollen and dark pink. She offered me a shy, satisfied smile.
“Uh, so that happened.”
My mouth fell open at her simple understatement. Yeah, and it was gonna happen again.
She tugged her skirt down a little more, peering out the window. “Thanks for the ride home.”
“Honey, the ride’s not over yet. I'm taking you inside.”
“That’s okay. You don’t need to walk me to the door.” She tried to twist her hair back again, but quickly gave up with a shrug. The soft wheat-colored waves fell to her shoulders, accentuating the rosiness in her cheeks. “The world might be better off not knowing about that wet spot I left on your pants.” She glanced down, her face flaming.
“Alexis, I’m not walking you to the door,” I growled. Wincing at the discomfort of my rock hard erection, I opened the door and stepped out to the curb. Then I reached for her hand and pulled her out. “I’m taking you. Inside.”
Her palm flattened over my heart as she stretched up to kiss my neck. “I don’t think that’s a good idea tonight.”
Why the fuck not? Was I only good for the back of a limousine?
“See you later, Luke. Thanks.”
I was so stunned by her deft escape that by the time I ran after her, it was too late to catch the outside door of her building before it closed on me.
Deep down, I knew it was ungentlemanly-like to call a woman a cock tease, but if there were ever a perfect time and place… All the way to my hotel, I’d wondered if I had deserved that, for my phone stunt earlier in the evening. Had that only been just a few hours before that I had jerked myself off while she spoke to me? Well, I guessed this made us even.
Now, a few days later, she sat on the lawyer’s couch and surveyed me in my tailored suit, her expression guileless and unfaltering.
“He knows what he’s doing, Michael,” she said. Her words made something swell in my chest. My lips curved up, as did hers. We stared at each other, both of us realizing that we’d turned some kind of corner—and not just the one around from her apartment.
“I’ll make you a deal, Cohen,” I said, not taking my eyes on Alexis. “No more Tweets.”
“Great.” He sighed heavily. “That’s just… great.”
I nodded to the door, and Lexi rose to precede me on the way out. She wore pants today, along with the new leather jacket that I’d given her this morning when she picked me up. The picture she made put a smile on my face, at least until I turned back to Cohen.
“Arrange a press conference,” I instructed. “Noon tomorrow, at a place of your choosing.”
We shut the door on his shock. She grinned up at me as she punched the elevator call button.
“I don’t think he liked that.”
“Probably not, but too bad. He wants me to be all professional-like? I can do that.”
“You’re learning, Lucas. You’re learning. Although, maybe don’t open the press conference with the term ‘professional-like’.” Her gaze slid up and down my bespoke suit, which probably cost the same as Cohen’s secretary’s rent. “But…” She trailed off as the elevator door opened, and she tugged me into the empty car by my very boring silk tie.
Then she unbuttoned the top of my shirt and loosened my tie, her fingertips cool on my neck. “That’s much better,” she sighed. So did I.
Finally I could breathe, or at least as much as possible while Lexi took my breath away. She stood by my side as the doors opened again to let more people on. I only jolted a little bit as she linked her pinky finger with mine for the last ten floors down.
On the street outside, the driver—what the fuck was his name again?—opened the car door for us. Lexi got in, but I hesitated, seeing a familiar face getting out of another car about twenty feet away.
Viktor the Russian exited the back seat, then leaned over to speak to the person still inside. His face remained laconic, but his body language was tense and his speech rapid.
“Luke? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, just a sec.” I took a step backwards to get a better view, my curiosity burning.
A slim, pale hand reached out of the car to tug at Viktor’s immaculately tailored coat. I jumped when he slapped the hand away, and as he moved I could see its owner. She was beautiful. Her white-blonde hair bounced in a high ponytail, but her makeup ran down her face as she pleaded with him… It was an excruciatingly intimate scene, and I felt like a horse’s ass for watching.
“What was that about?” Lexi asked with a frown as I got in the car.
“Nothing.”
But I spent the next hour wondering who the blonde was and why Viktor left her sobbing in the back seat. Was he using her? Was she using him?
And were people just as curious about Lexi and myself?
Chapter Eight
Lexi
The press conference went well. With finesse and facts, Luke charmed the select handful of reporters with a sanitized version of his life story and his motivation for the inflammatory tweets. If this company was going to be his legacy, then he wanted to make it better, and he planned to start with employee benefits.
He’d told me about his mother dying, so I was starting to put the pieces together about the things he’d mentioned wanting to change. Health care was one of them. After spending my adult life so far fighting health care policy and providers to take care of my father, I had a lot of empathy.
I’d done my job well. Nobody at the press conference doubted Luke’s ability to meet his promises. Dressed in a perfectly cut suit and his blue eyes beaming like lasers from his tanned face, he was very camera-friendly—and friendly, overall. He practically oozed integrity, steadfastness, pragmatism, and not a small amount of sex appeal. He was the perfect nouveau riche businessman, and Michael Cohen whispered congratulations in my ear.
“Your Pinocchio is a real boy, Alexis! No more Cowboy Ken doll!”
I smiled thinly in response.
Luke’s smug relief at the successful scrum rankled me in the car afterwards, as he directed the driver uptown. When he leaned over me, he smelled like expensive aftershave, not old leather and cotton and hotel soap. His suit jacket accentuated his broad shoulders, his shirt underneath cut to the perfect length to hide his tattoos. The simple charcoal pantsuit I was wearing was a clearance rack special, and the legs were an inch too short.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“Remember that real estate guy from your little book club?”
“It’s not my little—oh, forget it.” I huffed, crossing my arms over my chest.
“He’s going to show us an apartment.”
I stared out the window at the traffic heading up the wide stretch of Park Avenue, my chest tight. “Okay.”
We sat in silence. In fact, it was probably the longest period of time that Luke had not spoken in my presence. It was unnerving, but I still couldn’t quite pin down the reason for my irritation. All I knew is that I wasn’t PMSing.
“Is something wrong?”
“No.” I sighed. “Everything is just fine. The press conference went fine. You were fine.”
When I looked to him, his face was twist
ed in a grimace. “Honey, that was a lot of ‘fines.’ When a woman says ‘fine’ like that, she usually means the opposite.”
“And you know women so well?” I wanted to bite my tongue as soon as the snippy words tripped off of it.
He shrugged. “What’s the problem here?”
The car pulled to a stop in front of a new high rise on the upper, upper, Upper East Side. “No problem. Look, your friend is already here.”
Before Luke could say anything, I hopped out of the car to where a familiar face stood under a royal blue awning. Recognition flared in his eyes, one of which was still bruised. Without his glasses, his black eye stood out more.
“Alexis Kincaid,” I said, putting my hand out. “We didn’t really meet the other day.”
“Nathan Brownlow.” He shook my hand firmly, his gaze going over my shoulder to where Luke was getting out of the car behind me. “You’re Lucas’s…?”
Good question. What was I? Friend? Employee? “Consultant.”
Nathan’s brow creased a little, but he was too professional—or disinterested—to question further. He pumped Luke’s hand up and down before ushering us inside. He quickly introduced the doorman and made pleasantries as only a Manhattan real estate agent could.
On the way up in the elevator, Nathan began listing some of the apartment’s stats. “Like I said on the phone, it’s a two bedroom, two bath unit, approximately a thousand square feet. This building is only a few years old, so everything is pretty modern.”
I tuned out his spiel, instead noticing that his suit was similar to Luke’s, and they were similar heights. But where Luke had charm twinkling out of his eyes, Nathan Brownlow’s jade green gaze was like a cat’s—watching, assessing, rapidly calculating.
He ushered us into the empty apartment, and Luke ran into the back of me as I stopped suddenly. I was a little surprised that the apartment was totally empty, but I was more taken aback by the girl sitting on the floor in the middle of the living room. Her strawberry blonde hair was in two low pigtails over her shoulders, her face pale beneath her freckles.