Tone uncertain, she replies, “Good afternoon, Mr. Holt.”
The way she addresses me and assesses me with a long look arches my mouth. She’s trying to ascertain my motive and figure me out. I like how she’s clever and suspicious of me. I enjoy the challenge she presents. Yet it’s those eyes of hers that get me. They’re what broke my defenses yesterday. They’re warm…and yet full of secrets that I need to find out.
But that’s not all I want or all I plan to take from her. I want her beneath me, writhing in the pleasure I give her. I want her screaming my name in the throes of passion. I want those pouty lips wrapped around my cock with her soulful eyes watching me. I will get what I want. “I hope you don’t mind that I’m joining you.”
“Of course not.” She smiles. “You’re more than welcome, but I’m afraid we’ve already had lunch.”
I watch the way she flicks her hair over her shoulder, exposing its bareness to me, tempting me to run my fingers along such soft-looking skin. “That’s fine. I ate earlier.” I take a seat across from Allie and next to Peter, nodding her on. “Please continue.”
Not missing a beat, Allie turns to Jenny and her smile warms further. I realize the smile she’d given me was polite not genuine. Heat rises in my body, my chest tightening. The warmth in her grin is infectious. I want that warmth for myself.
“You were saying you wanted a pool,” Allie says to Jenny. “But it’s not a deal breaker, right?”
Jenny nods, placing her hands on the table, showing off the diamonds decorating her fingers. “Yes, exactly.”
Interesting. I cock my head, noticing how Allie doesn’t even respond to all the bling being flaunted in front of her. Yesterday she intrigued me with her sharp mind, loyalty, and the way her presence hardened my cock the second I set eyes on her. Today I’m even more convinced she’s something special and someone I want in a very lewd way.
This woman shines, and I like things that sparkle.
“Okay, I think I’ve got it…” Allie taps her pen against the paper in her notebook, resting on the table, her voice steady, low-pitched. “You want a vintage-style home with a pool—but that’s not a deal breaker—and you’d like six bedrooms, plus a great space for entertaining.” She lifts her head, giving both Peter and Jenny direct eye contact. “Have I got everything right?”
“Yes, exactly.” Jenny smacks her hands on the table, showcasing her jewels once again, obviously trying to obtain a reaction from Allie. “That’s precisely what we want. Right, dear?”
Peter nods, eyes flat, bored. “Yes, of course.”
Allie looks away from Peter and chews on her lip before lifting her head, looking directly at him. “Mr. Lowe, I’ll do all I can to find Jenny the perfect house, and make sure she’s very happy.”
Peter’s brows lift. “I appreciate your care and dedication.” And I can see that he’s glad it won’t be a giant headache for him.
I cross my arms, watching the exchange, in awe of Allie and her customer care. In less than two minutes she summarizes the wants and needs of her clients, letting them see she’s eager to please. The Lowes’ smiles indicate she’s won them over. Leaning forward, I rest my elbows on the table, soft conversations going on in the restaurant around us as I focus on Allie. She’s different. There’s a light about her I can’t ignore. A spell of sorts that’s weaving over me and I can’t run from its grip.
“I’ll get started on this today,” Allie says, breaking into my thoughts. “Are you both free tomorrow morning for some viewings?”
“Oh, yes,” Jenny interjects, grabbing her Gucci purse off the back of her chair. “We are—”
“I’m afraid I have meetings all morning.” Peter frowns at his wife.
Allie glances between Peter and Jenny before offering, “How about Jenny and I take a look at the houses and then I can send you a video of any she likes.”
Peter smiles, rising from his seat. “Yes, that should work.”
I’m unable to look away from Allie. Her passion for the job is evident in her eyes, something that I remember once seeing in myself. There was a time when my decisions weren’t solely based on financial gain.
Peter extends his hand to me. I rise from the table and we shake on the deal. “Pleasure to do businesses again, Peter.”
He gestures at Allie and says quietly, “Got a good one there.”
I nod in agreement, glancing at Allie as she smiles at Jenny, saying goodbye. I’m not sure what it is about this woman that holds my attention so intently. But I want to know more about her. Like, where do I touch her to make that smile center on me.
“Goodbye, Micah.” Jenny offers her hand to me, giving me a smile and a lascivious wink.
“Goodbye.” I offer her a cold, firm nod so there’s no confusion, reluctantly returning her handshake. She lifts her chin, a defensive move, I’m sure in response to my rejection, and follows Peter out of the restaurant.
“Did I pass your test?”
I turn, watching Allie bend over, giving me a fine view of her ass as she grabs her briefcase off the floor. Damn. My fingers twitch to slap such a perfectly round bottom. When she faces me, I lift my eyes to her face. “Test?”
“That’s why you showed up today, isn’t it?” She closes her notepad, placing her pen on top of it, and wrinkles her brow at me. “To see for yourself that I’m worthy of my new position?”
“Actually, no, that isn’t the reason,” I reply, voice hard. “But what I saw here today does impress me. I see why you were the top seller at Richardson. You’ve got a talent for handling clients.”
Her eyes go wide for a split second, but she recovers quickly, placing her notebook in her bag. “If you’re not here to check up on me, then why are you?”
Ah, a good question indeed.
I don’t know all the reasons that had me asking Liv where Allie was this afternoon, but I’m beginning to get better insight into why this woman is busting through my defenses, making me want her desperately, cracking down unbreakable armor. “Can I ask you something?”
“Actually, I really need to—”
I see how she’s nibbling her lip and how she’s looking everywhere but at me. Yeah, girl…I want to nibble that lip as much as you want me to. “Your boss wants to ask you a question, you don’t want to annoy him, do you?” I interrupt.
She snorts, lifting her head, giving me a small smile. “Using that one on me, are you? Clever.”
“Thank you.” I return the smile, inhaling deeply, catching hints of her flowery perfume. She’s clearly strong in her opinions, soft to those she cares about, and fiercely loyal. All of those reasons drew me to her, but there’s something more to her—something that even now makes my cock rock-hard. “So again, can I ask you something?”
She heaves a long sigh, resting her hands on her briefcase, atop the table. “What do you want to know?”
“Are you dating anyone?”
“No.”
“Well now, that’s interesting,” I comment.
She pauses, then asks, dryly, “Why is that so interesting?”
“Because I would think a single woman would be happy to receive flowers from me.”
Her eyes widen, and her skin flushes a bright red. “Is that why you came here? To find out why I refused your flowers?”
I nod. “Yes.”
“Unbelievable,” she whispers beneath her breath. Her pretty eyes narrow, and she zips up her briefcase before addressing me again. “Let me get this straight: you’re man enough to come and find out why I refused your flowers, but you aren’t man enough to deliver the flowers to me yourself?”
“Ah, so that’s what this is all about,” I murmur, now understanding. No woman has ever refused a gift from me. “You like the personal touch, hmm?”
Her lips part, and I’m expecting her to elaborate on her strong point of view. In fact, I’m hoping she will. These are things I need to know about her. It’s the way inside her head, and is exactly where I want to be. Instead, she says in
a cold tone, “Mr. Holt, let’s keep this a professional relationship. Is there anything else I can do for you?”
A few things come to mind, involving those pouty lips of hers. But I’m more concerned about why she’s so adamant to shut me out. I never deny myself lust, and I don’t understand why anyone would. “You can stop pretending this is just professional, Miss Parker.”
She looks away. Ah, a crack in her strength, vulnerability, indication of our shared attraction. When she glances at me again, she steps back from the table, her cheeks flushed deeper. “It can only be professional.”
“Why? Because I’m your boss?”
“Yes.” Her chin lifts, letting me know she’s not a pushover. “Sending me flowers at work is not appropriate. The last thing I need is to be the focus of office gossip.”
Christ, she’s sexy and confident, and my cock is rock-hard and straining. I want her, and she’ll learn today that I’m not a pushover either. “To be clear, so there’s no misunderstanding, I thought my personally delivering flowers to you would create gossip, which is why I had Neil deliver them to you on my behalf.”
I see the way her lips part in surprise, then she quickly recovers, shifting nervously from foot to foot. “Nevertheless, I’m not interested.” She picks up her briefcase, and I pay very close attention to the slight hitch of her breath when she adds, “Please promise not to do anything like that again.”
Now all I can see is her.
I zero in on her pouty lips, imagining them running slowly up and down my cock, watching her pleasure me. She reacts promisingly, tugging at her bottom lip with her front teeth. Why are you stopping this? I silently wonder. Aloud, I answer her question, “I promise not to make you feel uncomfortable again in such a way.”
“Good.” She turns to leave.
Moving on impulse, I take a few steps to close the distance between us, and reach out, grabbing her wrist. A dangerous move on my part, as it might be misconstrued as sexual harassment. But I have to know if I’m reading her wrong, because I want her so very badly.
The moment my fingers tighten around her skin, heat spirals down my spine. Pure, unadulterated desire in its rawest form sweeps through the air, swelling my cock to the point of pain. I close my fingers, holding her, overwhelmed with the need to not let go. She softens with a delectable yearning, striking me in the chest, and yanking me so intensely I nearly pull her straight into my arms.
Christ, what she does to me and how she makes me want her, is unusual.
“Again”—I slowly drag my finger across her wrist, controlling my urges, trying to be gentle with her—“I didn’t mean to upset you. That was never my intention.”
She looks at her arm where my fingers linger. Head bowed, and avoiding my eyes, she speaks in a raspy voice. “As long as we understand each other, I’ll forgive you.” I drop her wrist and watch her leave the restaurant.
My cock throbs in my pants, and I notice the slight waver in her step, realizing how affected she is, too. I don’t doubt she’s soaking wet between her thighs and that her clit is swollen and achy. She wants me. That I know.
Allie can run.
But she’s mine to catch.
Allie
What a friggin’ day!
Inside my midtown condo, I kick off my heels, sighing in happiness and locking the door behind me. It’s late and the sky is dark, and though both Union Square and the Civic Center offer some glowing light through the floor-to-ceiling windows, I snap the light switch, illuminating my open-concept condo. This place is all mine, from the modern furniture in the living room to the scattered colorful accents and décor. Most people who visit my house wouldn’t suspect that I have money, because I pay my bills from a separate account from the one my brother set up for me.
Ready to jump into the bath and soak away my long day, I drop my purse on the small table by the door, but first move to the living room. When I reach my cream-colored couch, I flop onto the soft cushion, grabbing my iPad off the refinished antique hardwood coffee table. I click FaceTime and dial my best friend.
Two rings go by before Taylor’s face pops up on the screen. She’s one of those natural beauties that I try hard not to hate, whose honey-colored hair falls in soft curls around her oval face and never looks out of place, even when it’s messy. “Hi, you,” I say, tucking my legs underneath me. “Why didn’t you call me back last night?” I had big news for her and it’s not like her to not return a call.
“Sorry.” She gives a small smile, flashing her sparkling white teeth. “I worked late and then thought you’d be sleeping.”
“Oh, you totally should have called.” I rest the iPad on my thighs, glancing down at her. “I have big news to tell you.”
Her light hazel eyes sparkle. “Dammit, I’m always the last to know good gossip. Tell me. Tell me.”
“Okay, well, it all started yesterday…” I rehash what took place at Richardson and then everything that happened today during my first day at Holt. “So, yeah, now I’m working for the famous Micah Holt, and apparently he wants a date.”
“Of course he wants a date with you. You’re Allie.” Her warm smile makes me miss seeing it in person. It’s been at least six months since she’s visited, though it feels longer. We were inseparable growing up and it’s been an adjustment not seeing or talking to Taylor every day. In fact, I imagine I would be in a deep depression if I didn’t have Liv. “So…” Taylor’s wiggling her light-colored, perfectly shaped eyebrows. “When is this date happening?”
“It’s not.”
She frowns. “And why would that be?”
“Because dating Micah Holt is the last thing I should be doing.”
Taylor pauses, eyeing me closely in the way she does when she gently disagrees with me. “Let me guess, he’s too rich for you?”
“You know me too well.” I smile.
My mother taught me everything I needed to know about rich men. When she was younger, she’d married a multimillionaire. After their divorce she worked as a receptionist at a pediatrician’s clinic, which eventually led to her meeting my father, who was a FedEx worker. But during her first marriage, my mother told me, money became more important than people, relationships, and happiness. She told me about the long hours her ex-husband worked at the office, which led to his numerous affairs. She told me about how his assistants purchased anniversary, Valentine’s, and other holiday gifts. I won’t forget her tears and the pain in her eyes I saw that day she opened up about her life with her ex-husband.
It’s hard for me to put any value on money now knowing it can be easily used for the wrong. “On top of being rich, you know what that type of guy is like.”
“Yeah, I do,” she whispers.
Right after we graduated from high school, Taylor and my half-brother secretly dated. Although I knew about the relationship and had given them my blessing, he wanted things to stay on the down-low. My big bro had begun to build his empire, and Taylor had been only nineteen at the time, while he had been twenty-nine. But their relationship only confirmed to me why I don’t want what they had. Ever. Because, in the end, my half-brother repeated the same mistakes his father had.
He worked all day and all night to make his billions, never seeing Taylor. When she finally confronted him, he broke up with her. The relationship had been short, intense, and in the end, it ruined them both. The last happy day they’d had together was the last day I had seen either of them happy.
Which reminds me every day why I’m proud that when my half-brother handed me a rich life on a platter I’d been smart enough at fifteen years old to decline it. Yes, I had a trust fund. But I never touched a cent of that money. “So while I’m tempted…”—and oh, boy, does Micah tempt me—“this can’t lead anywhere good.”
“But maybe he’s different than…” She gives a small smile and adds, “Micah’s already built his empire, so maybe things are different for him. Like, maybe he wants to do the whole normal life thing now.”
“I’ve never
met a single guy who seeks power and a quiet life.” No, all the guys I met growing up were spoiled pricks trying to get richer than the guy next to them. They hungered for power.
“It’s true. They don’t really seem to go hand in hand,” Taylor agrees, squinting her eyes, finally shrugging. “But Micah does have one thing going for him. From what I’ve read, he has a charity that helps children whose parent or parents have died. They send kids to summer camps and Disney World—things like that.”
I absorb that particular news. “Okay, so he might have a sweet side.”
My mind oddly returns to when he touched me in the restaurant, and my hot reaction to that touch, making saying yes seem far too easy. I don’t have it all figured out yet, but it’s almost as if part of me trusts him and another part of me doesn’t. Right now I’m listening to the part that doesn’t. I rub my eyes, suddenly feeling tired. “God, Taylor, this guy is so…”
“Sexy?”
I laugh, dropping my hands. “Yes, that. But there’s more…it’s like he’s…” I eventually sigh and shake my head. “Unforgettable. Dark. Dangerous. Magnetizing. I don’t even know how to explain it. He has this way about him that draws you right in.”
“So what are you going to do?” she asks, simply.
“What I always do,” I say with a shrug. “Keep my head down and work hard.”
She smiles. “And try to remind yourself that you don’t want a certain hot hunk in a bad way.”
I snort a laugh. “Yep, that’s the plan.”
“Gosh…” Taylor’s posture stoops, her voice small. “New job. New hottie. Life is so exciting for you. I really miss being there to experience it together.”
My heart clenches, twists and turns. When Taylor hurts, I hurt. It’s really that simple. I want her here, with me. I know it’s selfish, but I want to be around her lovable personality and watch chick flicks in our pajamas like we used to, eating as much junk food as humanly possible. It really sucks that life has a way of reminding you that you can’t always get what you want. “I miss you like crazy, too. How are things in San Diego?”
Bound Beneath His Pain: A Dirty Little Secrets Novel Page 4