by Claire Adams
"I know," she grinned. "And it makes you want to bend me over your desk and have your way with me, doesn't it?"
"Why do you always revert to sex, Sloan?" I asked.
"Because that's the glue that holds us together," she replied as she flipped open a thick gold compact and applied a layer of fresh red lipstick. She reached out and grabbed a sheet of paper from my desk, blotted her lips, and then shrugged, "You want me. I like what you do when I drive you to the point that you can't hold back. We make a good team."
"You seriously piss me off," I grumbled.
"I know, and you love it," she smiled as she rose up out of her chair and walked around the desk. She sat on the edge of it before spreading her legs and giving me a clear view of the fact that she wasn't wearing anything under her short tight skirt. She dropped her voice and asked, "See anything you like, Jack?"
"Sloan, stop …" I said before tearing myself away from the view she was giving me.
"Oh, c'mon, Jack," she whispered as she shifted a little and spread her legs wider. "You know you want it."
I could feel the heat radiating off of her body and knew that I'd made a deal with the devil. I pushed myself up out of my chair and stood facing her as I ran one hand up the inside of her thighs. She smiled lazily as she spread her legs wider to give me full access.
"Sloan," I leaned in and spoke quietly in her ear as I caressed her soft thigh, reaching higher with each movement of my fingers. "I know what you want. I can smell it, and you know what, darling?"
"Mmmm," she purred as she stretched against my hand. "What?"
"I'll give it to you," I whispered as my fingers splayed her wet warmth and stroked the soft skin that lay between her lips. She moaned softly as I slid two fingers inside of her and flipped them up so that I was stroking both of her most sensitive spots at once. She moved her hips forward to meet my hand as she dropped her head backwards and closed her eyes. I concentrated on keeping the pressure and rhythm consistent and building steadily to her climax.
When she began to move her hips more insistently, I picked up the pace and stroked harder and faster, feeling her wetness cover my hand. As she headed for the finale, I could feel her gripping my fingers as I thrust up and into her harder and harder.
"Oh God, yes!" she moaned as she planted her palms behind her on the desk and violently shoved her hips forward to force my hand deeper inside of her. She whispered hoarsely, “Oh Jack, yes! That’s it! Right there!"
I felt her clench around my fingers as she reached her orgasm, and I thrust up into her, hard, and held my hand in place as she writhed on it. I watched her face as she enjoyed the rippling waves of her climax, and then once she had ceased pulsing on my hand, I withdrew it and stepped back to look at her.
"And that's the last time we do that," I said in a tone that slammed the door shut.
"What? Jack, no!" she protested as she stood up and made her way to the bathroom in the corner. "Don't be a spoilsport!"
"I mean it, Sloan," I said looking out the window. "That was the last time I'll be your personal dildo."
"I wouldn't count on that if I were you, Jack," she said, smiling mysteriously as she returned to the office and grabbed her purse.
Then she turned on her heel and marched out the door, leaving me to wonder exactly what she'd meant by that.
BAD BOY BILLIONAIRE VOLUME III
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Leah
The ride home that night felt like the longest one ever, and by the time Riley and I got off the train, it was well past dinnertime.
"How about we go home and change our clothes, order a pizza, and curl up on the couch and watch a movie?" I suggested as we rounded the corner and saw that a fleet of fire trucks were parked halfway down the block with lights flashing and equipment strewn across the road.
My heart sank as I picked up the pace and raced toward our house. I was stopped by a Captain in a crisp uniform who told me that she needed to see ID.
"That's my house!" I cried as I stood looking at the charred exterior, broken windows, and the muddied lawn in front. I could see the firefighters in their bright yellow jackets and red helmets walking out of the house holding axes and yelling at one another. I thought of Mama. I yelled, “Where's my mother? My mother was in the house!"
"Ma'am," the Captain said as she put a hand on my arm. "Your mother was evacuated, treated for smoke inhalation, and transported by ambulance to the hospital."
"She's okay?" I whispered. "She's not dead?"
"No, Ma'am," the Chief said with a grimace. "She was very much alive and kicking when my team pulled her out of the house."
"Did Gram swear at you?" Riley piped up as she looked expectantly at the Chief.
"Indeed, she did," the woman nodded. "She was quite vocal."
"Don't take it personally," Riley said as she patted the Chief's arm. "She does that with everyone."
I couldn't contain a small smile as I listened to Riley describe the way Mama talked to those of us who lived with her. I turned my attention back toward the house and realized that we had nothing and nowhere to go.
"Ma'am, your mother told us you have a brother close by; is that correct?" the Chief asked as she pulled out a small notebook and began writing something in it. I nodded as she continued to write. "So you have someplace you can go tonight? Because if you don't, we can have the Red Cross provide you with resources for a hotel room and clothing and things."
"No, my brother will put us up tonight," I said not wanting to think about what came after tonight. I asked, "Do you know what caused the fire?"
"I can't say for certain, but we're pretty sure the blaze originated in the living room," she said as she continued writing. "And it looks like it was probably a cigarette or something similar. It's definitely not arson."
"I see," I said swallowing hard and fighting to keep the tears from falling. "Is the house salvageable?"
"I'm pretty sure it's going to need a whole new living room, but the rest of the house seems to have escaped severe damage," the Chief said. "I'd be willing to bet that you can have it back in livable condition in a month or two. I'll give you the case number for the insurance company once the inspectors come out and investigate in a couple of days."
I ran my hand through my hair and, again, fought back the tears as I realized I'd let the insurance policy lapse a few months back when we'd been short on the mortgage payment and Riley had needed new clothes and shoes for school. I didn't want to alarm Riley, so I put my arm around her shoulder and led her away from the burned house.
"Let's go see if Patrick has somewhere we can crash tonight," I said as cheerfully as I could. "Then we'll order pizza and figure out where we're going to live for the next few months, okay?"
"Miss Walsh!" the Chief called as Riley and I walked away. She ran after me and handed me a sheet of paper torn out of her notebook. On it were all the numbers to call in order to get the help I'd need to deal with the fallout from the fire. At the bottom of the page was a number with the word Al-Anon written next to it. I looked up at the Chief quizzically. She shrugged and said, "In case you need a place to go to talk about it. Your mother was pretty toasted when we pulled her out of there."
"Thank you," I said as I gave her a grateful look. I tucked the paper into my purse before Riley and I continued our trek to Patrick's.
*
"Are you okay?" Patrick asked as he stood in the doorway of the parish house. "Were you there when the fire started?"
"We're fine. We were still at work," I said as Riley and I entered the house and looked around. The living room was equipped with sheets, blankets, and towels set out on the stiff couches. The room smelled musty and old, but I was grateful for a place to stay.
"Mama's at the hospital. They said she's resting comfortably," Patrick said. "I'll go over in the morning and check on her."
"Great," I nodded. "I've got to go to work and Riley's been suspended from school, so I'll take her with me again."
"Leah!" Riley protested as she threw herself down on the nearest couch and pretended to pout. "You said you weren't going to tell anybody!"
"Patrick doesn't count," I said tossing my purse onto the other sofa and shaking my head.
"Gee, thanks," Patrick grumbled with a mischievous smile.
"You know what I mean," I said as I rolled my eyes at him before turning to Riley. "I didn't tell anyone at work, just like I promised."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," she said waving her hand impatiently. "Are we going to get some dinner soon or what? I'm starving!"
"Listen, missy," I began, only to be cut off by my brother.
"I've got some dinner in the kitchen if you're that hungry," Patrick offered.
"What do you have?" Riley asked eyeing him suspiciously. "Probably liver and Brussels sprouts or something, right? Isn't that what God eats?"
"Riley!" I scolded.
"Well, it's true, isn't it?" she asked as she looked at Patrick. "God eats all that stuff that's good for you, but that kids hate."
"Well, I don't know about that," Patrick replied with a playful smile. "But I can certainly tell you that the dinner that's in the kitchen is definitely not liver or Brussels sprouts!"
Riley reluctantly got up off the couch and dragged her feet across the carpet. I could tell that she was tired, but so was I. I didn't have the heart to nag her to pick up her feet and walk like a normal person. Her spirits lifted when we entered the kitchen and saw a box from our regular pizza place sitting on the table next to two bottles of soda.
"Uncle Patrick! Thank you!" Riley cried as she whipped open the box and pulled out a large slice of pepperoni pizza and bit into it.
"Thanks, Patrick," I said with a grateful smile as I sat down at the table and helped myself to dinner. Patrick nodded, and then quickly exited the kitchen. I wasn't sure what was going on with him, but it had been a long day; and I was too tired to dig deeper.
Riley and I quickly polished off the soda and pizza, and then went into the living room to make up the couches. Once we'd done that, Riley looked around for something to do, but when she couldn't find a television set or a computer, she began perusing the bookshelf that stretched floor to ceiling across one wall of the living room.
"Wow, there are a lot of books here," she observed as she dropped down and tilted her head to read the titles closest to the floor. "A History of Angels, Angels Among Us, When Angels Walk Among the Living … wow, they really like their angels, don't they?"
Not knowing what to say, I simply nodded, and Riley turned back to the books. For the next hour, I sat making a list of all the things I needed to do, and by the time I was done, I felt overwhelmed but more in control. I looked up and saw Riley engrossed in a book she'd found on the shelves.
"Something good?" I asked.
"Mmm-hmm," she nodded and kept reading.
"Okay, well, it's time for bed," I prodded. "We need to be up and out of here early tomorrow morning."
Riley got up and went to brush her teeth, leaving the book on the couch. While she was out of the room, I picked the book up and read the title: Orphan at Any Age: Children Who've Lost Parents. I bit my lip and put the book back down.
"We're going to be okay," I said after we'd settled in and shut off the light. "I promise."
"I know, Leah," Riley replied sleepily. "We always are."
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Jack
"Hey, good lookin', whatcha got cookin'," I sang as I walked into Leah's office early the next morning. I stopped as soon as she looked up at me. There were dark circles under her eyes, and her lips curled into a weak smile before she turned back to the computer and continued typing. I quickly toned it down and asked, "Everything okay?"
"Yeah, fine," she nodded without looking at me. "Just a lot of stuff to take care of this morning. Did you need something?"
"I just wanted to touch base and talk about the construction," I said as I tried to figure out what was going on with Leah. "Are you sure you're okay?"
"I'm fine, Jack," she said tersely. "If you want to talk about the project, I'll be done in a few minutes and can meet you out in the warehouse."
"Alright, I'll be waiting," I said, backing out of the room confused as to what was going on.
The construction project was moving quickly and the warehouse team was helpful in answering my questions. I took a look at Leah's new office and found that the crew was nearly done with it. I pulled out my phone and called Norma and told her to have the furniture brought in that afternoon once the crew was done with the finishing touches.
The new office had been done in light wood and cool calm tones of green and cream. I'd picked out furniture that would complement the colors as well as being functional. I hoped that Leah would like the overall effect. I walked across the room and pushed open the door leading to the fully outfitted bathroom and found Riley curled up in the shower stall reading a book.
"Hey, you're not supposed to be in here," I said hearing my voice echo off the tile walls.
"Huh?" Riley looked up confused. "Oh, well, it was the only place where things were quiet."
"What's going on?" I asked.
"Dunno, just trying to stay out of the way," she shrugged as she put her finger in the book to hold her place and sat up. She seemed more withdrawn since the day before.
"You okay?" I asked, remembering what it was like to be that age and have adults constantly badgering me to tell them what was going on.
"Fine," she shrugged again looking down at the book in her lap.
"You sure? You seem kind of quiet," I said in a casual tone.
"Just a lot of stuff going on, that's all," she said quietly.
"Well, I don't want to pry, but if you need someone to talk to, my door is open and I'm happy to listen," I said, turning to leave the bathroom. "Just do me a favor, and don't let the work crew mess this up too much, okay? I want it to look nice for Leah when she comes down to see it."
"Jack?" Riley called just as I walked out the door.
"Yeah?" I said, turning to look back at her. She looked small and miserable as she bit her lip.
"Never mind," she said.
"Okay, well, the offer stands," I said before exiting the new office. I wondered what was going on with her and Leah, but I knew better than to push.
*
That afternoon, my brother called to ask what I was doing to ensure that Baby Steps would turn a profit.
"What are you talking about, Lincoln?" I asked, irritated that he was checking up on me again.
"I'm talking about the fact that the company now needs to turn a profit to cover not only the yearly shareholders' profit, but also the loan you took out to renovate the warehouse," he said sounding annoyed.
"Don't talk down to me, brother," I shot back. "I know what I'm doing."
"Do you now? I had no idea that you knew so much about the baby supply business," he said doing his best to convey surprise. It always irritated me the way that Lincoln could turn anything I did into a way to cut me down and show my weaknesses.
"I'm positioning us to take on new clients and increase our shipments over the next nine months," I said, maintaining a calm I didn't feel. "You of all people should know that it takes time to build new business and then turn it into regular dividends."
"I'm not sure about that," he said smugly. "I've always had the good fortune to be productive from the start of any project."
"Yes, well, that's how it goes when daddy holds your hand and walks you right into the vault full of cash, now isn't it?" I replied coolly. I could hear my brother inhale sharply on the other end, and I knew I'd hit a nerve.
"I've done this on my own," he growled. "You know that."
"Yes, well, I'm doing this on my own, too," I said. "Is there anything else you need, Lincoln?"
My brother was silent on the other end as I held my breath, hoping that he wasn't waiting to drop a bomb. After what felt like an eternity, but couldn't have been more than thirty seconds, I took
a deep breath and said, "No? Well, then I've got a lot of work to do, so I'm going to let you go."
Lincoln said nothing before hanging up the phone. The smashing sound on the other end let me know that while this battle might have been won, the war was far from over.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Leah
"Wait, what?" I said into the phone. "This can't be happening!"
"I'm sorry, Leah," Patrick said. "You didn't pay the insurance policy, so the only way we're going to be able to deal with the house is to sell it."
"No, Patrick! We can't sell the house!" I protested. The investigators had been out to assess the damage, and they determined that a lit cigarette had fallen out of the ashtray and burned through the rug beneath the sofa, causing the fire. We'd been lucky that Mama had gone up to her room and lay down on the bed instead of falling asleep on the couch like she usually did during the day. But the damages were more than what we could afford to fix, and the house had been rendered uninhabitable by the fire.
"Leah, there's no other way," Patrick sighed. "I'm sorry. There's no money to repair the place, and Mama needs care. If we sell the house, we can afford to put her in a long term care facility and get you and Riley an apartment."
"Why are you doing this?" I asked.
"Let's get something straight, Leah," he said sternly. "I'm not doing anything. You didn't pay the insurance policy. That's all on you. I'm doing the best I can with what I have, and it's not much. So stop talking to me like I'm the enemy."
"Don't lecture me, Patrick!" I shot back. "I'm the one who stayed. Dammit!"
"So, we're back to this again, are we?" he said. "Look, I'm not going to have this conversation with you, Leah. I did what I had to do. I'm sorry you resent me for it, but after Molly disappeared, I had to get out."
"I know. I know. You took care of yourself and left me to hold it all together," I said bitterly. "Well, good for you, Patrick. I'm glad you've been saved, or whatever it is that you've done. The rest of us still live in this world, and we need a place to stay! I want to fix the house and move back in."