Strike

by Jennifer Ryder

  April had fallen back asleep. I’d probably dicked around in the bathroom for half an hour. But having just come, I’d don’t blame her. I’d wanted to crawl back into bed after my shower and do the same. But work was waiting for me.

  I kiss April goodbye, and tuck the T-shirt I’d worn to bed into her arms.

  ****

  “Three of the directors from the Walsh Syndicate are here from Canada. Is your presentation ready to go, son?” Dad barks.

  “Yeah, Dad. All sorted,” I reply, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. He’s already asked me twice this morning. He knows full well that I fucking know what I’m doing.

  “They’ll be in the boardroom at two. I had a chin-wag with Hutchison this morning, and I get the feeling from him that the presentation is just a formality, so good work. I think the boys are more excited about dinner and a night at the casino. I can’t make it tonight, but I’ve arranged for the limo to swing past your place at seven o’clock and then you’ll pick them up from their hotel.”

  “Sure thing.” My blood simmers. The second Dad is out of here, I’m gonna rev the shit out of Eloise. Fifty and frumpy, she doesn’t have a fucking clue. I don’t know how the hell she got a job here. She should have reminded me about this dinner at our Monday morning meeting, where she is supposed to inform me of all the key activities for the week. This one is more important than ever. Well, to my father anyway.

  It’s my own stupid fault. I never should have fucked Kendra. She was borderline okay in bed, but she was a fucking amazing assistant. Dad never should have told me not to sleep with her. It was just the same as waving a red flag at a raging bull. Yep. I blame Dad.

  I’d told Kendra I didn’t think we should sleep together again, with the whole excuse about ‘fraternising with staff’, but when rumour got back to her that I’d fucked a girl from accounts in my office only a couple of days later, she threw hot coffee into my lap and quit on the spot. It had taught me a good lesson about focusing on my head at work, and not on getting my next lay.

  “Be smart about tonight, son,” Dad says, buttoning up the jacket on his charcoal-grey suit. “The Syndicate want to know that the future of this company is in safe hands. I’m trusting you to assure them it is.” He runs a hand through his short ash-blond hair.

  Why don’t you remind me about that again, Dad? As if I’m not under enough fucking pressure.

  “Don’t worry. They’ll leave happy.” I grace him with a hint of a smile, and he turns on his heel and slams the solid door behind him.

  I pull my phone out of my pocket. There’s a message from April.

  APRIL: ANY REQUESTS FOR DINNER? THOUGHT I MIGHT MIX IT UP AND COOK ONE OF YOUR FAVOURITES

  Fuck. April.

  I’d been so busy since I got in that I’d barely had a chance to revisit this morning in my thoughts. I couldn’t give a fuck about wining and dining the Syndicate tonight. I’d rather do that with April. Now I have to break it to her that I’m not going to be there for dinner. But I know where I really want to be.

  “Hey, you,” she says sweetly, answering the phone on the first ring.

  “Hey, April.”

  “So, what do you feel like for dinner?”

  “Yeah, that’s why I’m ringing. I’m sorry but I can’t do dinner tonight. I’ve got a work thing on I can’t get out of.”

  “Oh, okay. No worries,” she says, her happiness fading with each word.

  “I’d rather be there. Trust me.” If she’d let me touch her like that this morning, it was only a matter of time before it stepped up a notch. Just to torture myself I look at my fingers, two in particular, remembering where they had been. In sweet heaven.

  “Well, why don’t you come by after dinner? I’ll probably still be up anyway.”

  Hell. I want to. I should, but after a boozy dinner and gambling at the casino until the early hours I know I’ll be drunk and without a shadow of a doubt, I’ll be horny as fuck. I don’t want our first time to be like that.

  “Knowing these clients, I won’t be getting away easy.”

  “Sure, whatever,” she says coolly.

  Fuck. She’s not happy. My heart sinks in my chest, knowing that only a few days into spending time with her I’ve bailed for something else. But I don’t have a choice. My dad will disown me if I don’t schmooze tonight. The things I do for the old man … I hope he appreciates this.

  “I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?” I say, apologising with my words. What else can I say? She has to understand I wanna be with her. Surely?

  “Yep. Talk to you then.”

  “Bye, beautiful.”

  ****

  * APRIL *

  He couldn’t get out of my bed quick enough this morning, and he’d left without saying goodbye. Now he’d blown me off tonight for a “work thing”. I knew all about the brush-off, and this sure as hell felt like it. Did he really have something on? Was holding back the one thing he was used to getting as easily as water from a tap really a smart thing to do? Is that what he was going to do tonight? Find someone to ease his sexual frustration?

  I pick up the phone, ringing the only friend I’ve got in this town.

  “Soph, it’s me. Wanna come with me to yoga?”

  “Sure thing. I’ll pick you up in an hour, babe.”

  ****

  “Do you want me to get the door?” Soph calls out from the lounge room.

  I take a long swig from the water bottle, and wipe the drips from my mouth. I’m still sweating, but right now I’m more concerned about eating. My stomach’s been growling out of control since we finished the yoga session.

  “Nah, I’ll get it.”

  I open the door, my sight setting firstly on a pair of stylish black leather shoes. My gaze wanders up a long pair of legs in a sharp navy suit with matching tie, to a pair of dreamy blue eyes, and perfectly-styled blond hair.

  “Spencer. What are you doing here?” Did he leave the apartment this morning looking this fuckable? If I’d had the pleasure of seeing him dressed like this I would have dragged him back into bed. There’d be no more orgasms in my sleep, as I’d be getting them from Spencer.

  His Adam’s apple bobs up and down, his eyes running a fiery trail over my body. Well, mainly my boobs. I guess they’re out there in this crop top, and my short-shorts don’t leave much covered, but fuck it. I’m working out in forty degrees celcius. I’m not wearing a tracksuit.

  “Fuck. Hot yoga?” he gasps, his eyebrows moving closer to his hairline.

  “Yep, hot yoga.” I grin with satisfaction.

  “Is that the pizza?” Soph asks, smacking me playfully on the arse.

  “Hey, watch it,” I bark and turn to her. She stills when she finds an immaculately-dressed Spencer in my doorway.

  “Sweet Jesus, April. Hot yoga with Sophie?”

  I turn to Soph. She’s about as dressed as I am, and she has a killer body. I shake my head, and bite down on my lip. I bet there are a dozen different lesbian scenarios running through that pretty head of his right now. Can’t say I’m not enjoying this shade of green on him.

  “You were busy tonight, which brings me back to my question. What are you doing here? Don’t you have plans?”

  “I do, I just came to …” He looks nervously to Soph and then back to me.

  I turn to her. “Can you give us a sec, Soph?”

  “Sure,” she spits out. She glares at Spencer, and then stalks off.

  “Came to what?” I ask when she’s out of earshot.

  He snakes his arms around my back, his fingers running through the sheen of sweat along my lower spine. His chest moves in and out beneath his crisp white shirt. Spencer pecks me, stone-mouth on the lips and pulls away.

  “I came to kiss you goodnight.”

  He didn’t want me to miss out. He spent an hour driving out of his way to simply drop by and kiss me goodnight. I wilt in his arms and he strengthens his hold around my waist, squeezing my boobs hard against him.

  “Not good enough,” I
chastise. “I want tongue. If you’re not staying tonight, that kiss won’t do.”

  “Whatever you say,” he says, and glides his tongue into my mouth, flicking and teasing me until we’re both out of breath.

  “Mmm, better,” I manage with a whisper. He stole my voice with that kiss. I will never grow tired of kissing this man. In whatever manner he chooses to do it.

  “So, are there guys there?” he asks.

  “Where?”

  “Hot yoga.”

  “Yep.”

  He frowns and shakes his head. “Fuck, I wish I didn’t ask. Now I’ll have to come with you so I can throat punch anyone who watches you bend over.”

  “Shut up. They’re not looking.”

  He looks down to my boobs and back up with a sly smile. “Trust me, they’re fucking looking.”

  “They think I’m off the market anyway. Why do you think I go with Soph?”

  “That’s only adding fuel to the fire, beautiful. Now you’re a challenge.”

  “Don’t go all Neanderthal on me. I can handle it.”

  He rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, but I don’t know if I can.”

  “Calm yourself, Spencer. I don’t need a bodyguard.”

  He shakes his head, and presses his lips to mine. “I’ve gotta go home and get ready, and for the second time today I’m gonna jerk off in the shower. Hot, sweaty, and bossy April is too much to handle, especially as I can’t bend you over that couch and—”

  “You jerked off in my shower this morning?” I interrupt. A giggle flies from my mouth.

  Spencer’s hot breath warms my ear. “Why the hell do you think I jumped out of bed this morning?” His voice is hoarse, dripping with sexiness.

  And here I was getting all paranoid. “Tell me why.”

  “Because I was either going to cream my boxers or fuck you into another orgasm.”

  My mouth forms an O.

  Good God. It was a good thing he did leave. In the high I was in, I probably would have let him. I still have to be sure he’s going to hang around. Although now, I’m grasping at whatever excuses I can find not to sleep with him.

  I try to hold in my smile, but it grows wider, with every second I imagine his hand gripping his hard cock, stroking up and down, until—

  “Stop imagining it,” he says, and mirrors the smile I imagine is plastered on my face.

  “Sorry, I’m a very visual person. It can’t be helped.”

  His hands slide over the curve of my arse and he squeezes tight. I push my hips into him, rubbing against the generous hardness his pants are doing a bad job at containing.

  I smooth my hand up the lapels of his jacket. “You look good in a suit.” Understatement.

  He grins wickedly. “I look better without it.”

  “I bet you do.”

  He sighs loudly, his shoulders sagging. “I really have to go. I’m sorry.”

  “Tell you what. Ring me when you’re about to get in the shower, and I’ll have one at the same time. I promise to think about you when I touch myself if you promise to think about me when you’re stroking this.” I slip my hand over the bulge in his pants, gripping with enough pressure to make a groan rumble up his throat. I like that sound. It’s so hot.

  He closes his eyes, his lashes brushing at his flushed cheeks. “I may not make it home,” his voice chokes out.

  “Then you better drive fast.”

  A cough comes from the stairwell. “Um, delivery for MacIntyre?” a young male voice squeaks out.

  I move my head around Spencer to see a pimply red-headed guy in a black and red uniform. “Yeah, that’s me,” I say, the heat rushing to my face.

  “Guess that’s my cue to leave,” Spencer says, taking his warmth with him as he removes his hands from my arse.

  “Thanks for stopping by. It was really sweet of you.”

  He kisses me on the cheek and discreetly adjusts his pants. “I’ll call you soon. Be ready,” he says, pointing a warning finger at me.

  “Oh, I’ll be ready.” I wink at him and he bolts down the stairs, the heels of his leather shoes echoing throughout the stairwell.

  ****

  My phone buzzes as I finish mauling my pizza crust.

  SPENCER: HURRY

  I get up off the couch, and try not to smile like an idiot. “I’m just gonna take a shower, Soph.”

  “Sure, I’ll see if there’s anything decent on telly to watch tonight.”

  I rush into the bathroom and strip off my sweaty yoga gear. I turn on the water, and dial Spencer’s number.

  “You naked?” I spit out before he gets a chance to even say hello.

  “Yep. You?”

  “Starkers. You ready to get wet?”

  He mutters something under his breath, the water streaming in the background.

  My heart pounds faster, heat pooling between my legs. “You know what I’m gonna think about, Spencer?”

  “What, beautiful?”

  “The way it felt to have you inside me, when you pushed in slow and deep and I fell apart against your fingers—”

  “Damn it, April. I won’t even make it under the water if you talk to me like this.”

  That whole winey, needy thing in his voice is sexier than anything. “What are you gonna think about?” I ask in a sugary tone.

  “My dick in that pretty mouth of yours, to stop you from talkin’.”

  “Mmm, nice. I’m hanging up now. I’ve got work to do.”

  I disconnect the call, and sit the phone on the vanity. Stepping into a cloud of steam, the hot water embraces me and I think of all things Spencer.

  ****

  * SPENCER *

  “The only way that shower would’ve been better is if you were in it,” I say, still catching my breath. Knowing that she was rubbing herself while I was working my cock was like some kind of wet dream come true.

  I glance down at my watch on the sink. I’ve got exactly ten minutes to get dressed before they pick me up. I pray for an earthquake or some other kind of natural disaster that prevents me from being able to go. As long as I can still make my way to April’s place.

  “Didn’t take long, huh?” she says and laughs sweetly.

  “You’re a wicked girl, but dammit if that wasn’t something else.”

  You’re something else.

  “Have a good night, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  ****

  “I can see why Quay Restaurant has three hats. That was a fine meal,” Hutchison says, firmly shaking my hand.

  “It’s our pleasure, Mr Hutchison. Glad to show you one of Sydney’s finest.”

  “I keep telling you, call me Frank. Mr Hutchison is my father.”

  “Okay, will do.”

  “Come on, young Jones. I’ve got some money burning a hole in my pocket.” He winks at me, and slaps me hard on the back.

  “The limo’s waiting out front. I’ve arranged for us to move onto the Sovereign room at the Star Casino. They’re expecting us shortly.”

  “And not a minute too soon.”

  ****

  Frank is on a roll which means I’m playing babysitter, doing nothing more than making sure the drinks are flowing. I’ve drunk far too many vodkas, but Dad specifically told me not to go home until Frank did. Frank’s a big boy. He’s gotta be at least forty. I’m sure he’d have a better time without me hovering over him.

  I lean closer to the table. “Just gonna take a piss, Frank. You want another scotch?” I say quietly in his ear.

  “Does a fish need water? Yeah, I’ll get another.” His wide smile splits his face, and he turns his attention back to the cards laid out on the table.

  This guy is a drinking machine. I might have to start ordering him double shots so they kick him out. Surely I couldn’t get blamed for that? I get the attention of a roaming waitress, and ask her to put another scotch on my tab, and to take it straight to him.

  As I exit the bathroom, I scroll through the messages on my phone. None from April. I shou
ld send her one, just to let her know I’m thinking about her.

  “I thought that was you,” a sugary female voice says as I turn the corner.

  CHAPTER NINE

  * SPENCER *

  Focusing on her strappy silver heels first, my eyes move up her sapphire-blue slinky ballgown which hugs her curvy frame. Flaming red locks fall in soft curls around her small tits. Her deep-red painted lips are pursed together, her eyes glaring at me like death rays.

  The hairs prickle at the nape of my neck, and I swallow down the rising bile in my throat.

  The crazy redhead.

  Fuck.

  Golden rule: You never stick your dick into crazy. I never should have broken that rule. I don’t have the head space for this shit. Not tonight, not ever.

  “Hi …” I mutter. Fuck. I have no idea what her name is. Did she even tell me before I filled her mouth while Ryan took her from behind? I remember that much—she wasn’t bad—but I’ll be fucked if I can remember her name. “How are you?” I say, in an attempt to be polite.

  I subtly try to scan the tables, looking for Frank. Where the fuck is he? He’s not sitting where he was a second ago. I need to get away from her before she makes a scene like she did last time.

  “It’s Julianna. I can’t believe you don’t remember my name.”

  If you were memorable, perhaps I would have. “Sorry, I’m bad with names.”

  She steps towards me, and with the wall at my back I’ve got nowhere to go. She runs her long blue fingernails across my shoulders and grips the top of my arms as she leans close to my ear. “Perhaps later you can practise screaming it out loud when you fill my mouth. You won’t so easily forget it next time.”