Mister Monster: A Hero Club Novel

by Desiree Lafawn

  Slowly, I let her lean back across the desk, noticing the bright red circle on her shoulder that would undoubtedly be black and blue tomorrow. She didn’t act like it hurt. But it would tomorrow. I probably should have apologized, but I didn’t. Normally I get to know my women a bit more and negotiate that kind of thing before hand, but she’d made me crazy, and all control went out the window when she tested my authority. I waited another few moments before I slid out of her, wanting to stay with her as long as possible, massaging her ass cheeks with my hands as I did.

  “God, Church, am I glad I fucked you on this asshole’s desk. You were amazing.”

  She didn’t appreciate the praise, apparently. Instead she stiffened and turned, yanking her skirt down and her blouse together as she did. “What did you say?”

  “That Gower dickhead started today. The one that tried to con you into thinking he was your boss? I don’t know what it is you do here, Church, but trust me, it’s nothing under him. He is not now, and never will be in charge of you. That’s me.”

  Her nostrils flared and her back straightened. The flatness of her gaze made her look every inch an aristocrat, which was hard to do after being as thoroughly fucked as she just was. “This is my desk.”

  I didn’t know what she was talking about. “I don’t understand.”

  She shook off my hand and stood, buttoning her blouse back up, and straightening her skirt. Grabbing her ruined pantyhose from the floor she gave them a cursory examination and tossed them in the trash can in the corner. She slipped her feet into her shoes with just a slight grimace that let me know they hurt her feet. “What are you talking about, Church?”

  She had her hand on the doorknob when she turned around and fixed me with a glare so haughty and cold I almost had to check my nuts to make sure she hadn’t frozen them right off.

  “That’s not my name. You call me Church, but that isn’t my name. It’s Caroline.”

  Horror bloomed in my stomach, and I had the faintest inkling of what she was trying to say. My mind wanted her to be wrong, but the look on her face was cemetery serious.

  “My name is Caroline Gower. That’s my desk you just fucked me on. And I’m the dickhead who just started today.”

  And then she was gone, leaving me sitting in the office still smelling the crazy sex we’d just had, wondering how I’d managed to screw up so very badly.

  Fuck.

  5

  Caroline

  Two weeks later and I’d settled into some semblance of a routine. I say that because I hadn’t seen my boss, Ash Sugarbaker, since that first day where we had ridiculous porno sex on my desk. Well, porno sex to me. It must have been rage sex to him since he had nothing but contempt for the person who was supposed to be sitting behind it. Never mind he didn’t know it was me. That was beside the point. I’ve never been one to question or deny my sexual urges, but wondering how many other “employees” he’d bent over desks on the top floor without blinking, really set my teeth on edge.

  It took everything in me to come in to the office the next day. I’d thought about calling in, but it’s not like I could explain to HR the reason I was calling off was because my new boss plugged me on my first day and he was a real asshole about it. And I couldn’t say anything to Gabe. Christ, if that got back to the family I would never live it down.

  Oh, the scandal.

  Or not. Maybe that’s all they thought I was good for, screwing my way into a profitable match. My parents were pissed when I let Dex slip away. Not that I ever had him in the first place. I’d thought Dexter was a dickhead for cutting me off via text message. Jesus, now I had Ash Sugarbaker to deal with.

  I shouldn’t have worried about what my parents would think. My phone had been blessedly silent ever since I’d moved. Before, even. They didn’t understand what I was doing, or why I was leaving. Chalked it up to “Caroline, scratching an itch.” As if self-sufficiency was a whim. And maybe for me, it used to be. I’d always had the ability, just never the drive. I’ve always been a strong woman, so it was okay for me to try something new, reinvent myself.

  I’d do it until I was satisfied. As many times as it took.

  I hung on to that big dick energy as long as I could going back to work, I really did. I straightened my shoulders as I let the soles of my new brandless flats sink soundlessly into the carpeted hallway and marched right up to the heavy wood door to Ash’s office. I grabbed the knob and turned, fully expecting the door to swing open and find him sitting behind a huge desk, staring at me with those flat, emotionless eyes. But the knob didn’t turn. The door was locked, and it only took five minutes of logging onto my company computer to figure out why.

  Mr. Sugarbaker was on a business trip. How lucky for him.

  I’d admit it was lucky for me too. I really didn’t know what I was going to say to him. Obviously what happened between us couldn’t happen again. I wanted to rage about the indignity, but honestly, Id loved every second of what he’d done to me, and couldn’t argue about it with a straight face. But it absolutely, without a doubt, must never happen again. I didn’t even want to touch on whatever issue he had with Gabe hiring me to begin with, but if we were going to have any kind of working relationship, boundaries had to be drawn.

  I felt good about my decision until I saw the first email from my new boss.

  Ms. Gower,

  Welcome aboard. I’m sorry I’m not there to help ease your transition into the company, but you come highly recommended and I have no doubt you’ll find yourself acclimating just fine. I’ve attached several files for you to read and become familiar with.

  Every email ended the same way. Please respond to this email so I know its been read and understood. Never mind he had a read receipt attached to every email, so I know damn well he knew I read it. He also signed it, A. Sugarbaker.

  Like, la-di-da, too fancy for a whole first name, right? It was such a dominant trait and so . . . I don’t know . . . him. I don’t know why I thought it suited him just fine, only having met him on two very separate occasions, but considering how he’d acted during our sexual encounter, I could only assume he enjoyed dominating. I’d let him have his way once, but he wouldn’t get it a second time. I was an alpha in my own right, and I didn’t bow or beg any man. He’d learn that the hard way if he ever tried anything again.

  Which didn’t look like an issue considering the infuriatingly professional emails he sent me every damn day. At four in the morning, apparently. Not sure what kept him up at that hour of the morning, but hey, whatever kept his dick hard.

  The one good thing about his infuriatingly specific emails was that I was becoming increasingly familiar with our client files at a very rapid pace. Between cross referencing individual and family accounts, I was becoming adept at learning who our most important clients were and the most common ways we moved money around.

  The phone rang a lot, and while I was hesitant to answer at first, most of the clients calling knew Ash was out of town and were calling me to schedule appointments or send files from one place to the next. I could answer almost every call without help, and any that I couldn’t, I just said I would get the information they needed and get back to them later. There weren’t really any problems, and I was feeling pretty good until about ten days into my new employment—the phone rang.

  “Anderson Investments, Ash Sugarbaker’s office.” I’d come up with that greeting myself, because God forbid anyone show me how to do a damn thing around here. Not that I needed help, considering I was just a glorified secretary with barely enough work to keep me busy for a few hours, much less a full day. If no one was going to pay attention to what I was doing, and my boss wasn’t going to give me anything to do, I’d just make the job my own. I was way too proud to admit the job was below me. I was Caroline Gower, and I could do anything.

  “You know, City Mouse, he probably wants to be called Mr. Sugarbaker.”

  Oh, Lord. Only one person ever dared call me any kind of cute nickname before in my l
ife, and it would be the country cousin.

  “Yes, Gabraham? Finally checking on me after two weeks to see if I’m still alive?”

  He didn’t miss a beat. “Why wouldn’t you be? This job is a cake walk for you, and we both know it. And I know you didn’t kill Ash yet, because he isn’t in the office. Why do you think I had you start when you did? I’d rather have you get used to the place without the dragon breathing fire on you. And I kind of wanted you to like working here before you killed him.”

  He had a point. That was some sound logic.

  “Honestly, I thought there would be more of a learning curve, Gabe. I literally had to hang my own blinds and put my own shelves on the wall. I had to go to maintenance for a drill. A drill, Gabe. Is that orientation for all new employees, or am I somehow special?”

  I didn’t expect the low rumbling laugh on the other end of the phone, but I wasn’t surprised by it either. “That bad, huh? He was pretty mad I put someone right next to him without him knowing. And on his floor, no less, directly next to his office.”

  “What’s that all about? Anderson Investments has so much room, Ash Sugarbaker gets a whole floor to himself?”

  “Oh, God, this is going to be fun. I knew you would be the best at this.” I could hear Gabe smiling, even if I couldn’t see him. “He has the whole floor because no one else can stand to be up there. He’s great at his job, which is managing everyone and making sure the board members don’t make dumbass decisions as a whole, but he’s an insufferable dickhead.”

  “I can see that. So, how’d I win the booby prize?”

  “Well, first of all, if you are feeling that way after meeting him once, I hate to think of the impression he left, but I can imagine. All I can say is, he’s really good at his job and he always does the right thing. Always. I trust him with my company after all.”

  “But you don’t want to work with him?”

  Gabe laughed again. “Hell no. We’re both too arrogant to occupy the same space. Plus, I trust him to take care of this place while I’m working the second company, Glass City Guard.”

  He talked about it with all the glee of a little kid discussing his tree fort, but I knew what went into Glass City Guard. I did my homework before coming here. Gabe and I might have been close enough to be considered cousins, but I wasn’t going to move from New York to Ohio without doing some research on the company I was moving to, and the person who would be employing me. My mistake was assuming I would be answering to Gabe.

  Boy, was it a shocker when I found out that wasn’t the case.

  “Do me a favor, Caroline.” Oooh, he used my actual name instead of City Mouse. It must be serious. “Be patient with him. And probably you should call him Mister Sugarbaker and not Ash. He’s kind of a stickler for that sort of thing.”

  Stickler, huh? Wasn’t too worried about appearances when he was sticking his dick in me from behind. That’s for sure. I snort laughed at the thought.

  “I’m serious, hear me out. He’s great, but he’s too serious all the time. And he always thinks he’s the smartest guy in the room. While that’s often the case, I think he misses out on actual inter-personal relationships, because he thinks everyone is beneath him.”

  I thought about what Gabe said. “The type of person who would rather handle everything himself than explain to someone else how to do it and trust them to take care of it correctly?”

  “Exactly.” Gabe sighed. “I need someone capable that can handle his holier-than-thou attitude and still keep things together for the rest of the staff.”

  “Am I your…lightning rod?” I didn’t love the sound of that. Being the conduit between Ash and…everyone else that he apparently had a tendency to piss off on a regular basis.

  “If it makes you feel any better, City Mouse, I’ll let you in on a little secret. But you have to keep it in your pocket because this is classified information.”

  I waited for him to continue. “And?”

  “I’m not kidding, I’m military trained and I’m pretty sure he could still whoop my ass if he found out I told you this.”

  Oh, I had to know.

  “Tell me now, Country Cousin.” It was his favorite nickname that did it.

  “Fine, but this is last resort only. Ash Sugarbaker’s real first name…is Ashley.”

  I waited for the punch line but none came. “That’s it?” That couldn’t be it. That couldn’t be my nugget of wisdom, my ace in the hole. No way. That was stupid.

  “I promise you, he hates his name with a passion, and if you were to use it on him, he would stop dead in his tracks. But you have to save it. Save it for a win, lose, or draw situation.”

  “Yeah, okay. I guess.”

  “Also, he comes back Monday so good luck.”

  “Wait…why didn’t he tell me that? Why do you know and I don’t? I’m his damn assistant.”

  My words fell on deaf ears, Gabe had already hung up the phone, which was the equivalent of running away in my book. All the bravado I’d built up over two weeks of working by myself fell away and anxiousness set in. The last time I’d seen him was right after he’d rocked me with an amazing orgasm and then I found out he was my boss.

  Now I had to see him and act like nothing ever happened.

  6

  Ash

  I knew she’d been there because she’d answered every email I sent with a perfunctory, “Understood, I’ll take care of it.”

  I had to admit, I’d been testing her. One, I had no idea how she’d react after finding out she was my new employee. Two, that took some balls. Usually when I went out of town my emails went crazy with clients sending me messages about all manner of things, but by the end of the first week my inbox was crickets.

  A quick internet search had me finding out why.

  Caroline Gower. New York royalty. My very least favorite type of person, was now working as my assistant. But why? There was no way on this green earth she needed the money. And as far as letting me bend her over the secondhand desk in the tiny office next to mine—she sure as hell was not sleeping her way to the top. Her daddy could buy and sell my soul over and over again, and nothing Gabe Anderson could do would stop it from happening. It didn’t take me long to see her credentials either. Her degree was higher than mine. The only difference was I had the work experience where she served as consult for various charity organizations. But she wasn’t stupid because she didn’t work. No, I bet Church was much smarter than people gave her credit for. Her degree from Yale said as much.

  So what. Was. She. Doing?

  People like her infuriated me. People like Caroline Gower and the man who’d been a thorn in my side ever since I was small. The guy who acted like he was the prodigal grandson when he wasn’t even related to my Gigi at all. And here I was, out of town and closer to that douche bag than I ever wanted to be. There were still things I had to take care of at Gigi’s home, which I still kept up. After spending time setting up property maintenance and soaking in the nostalgia of childhood memories, all I wanted to do was go home to the place where I was recognized. The place where I was in charge. But who was waiting for me there?

  Another rich kid with an agenda. I couldn’t get away from them.

  I’d tried to get more info out of Gabe but he was ridiculously close-lipped over the whole thing. Said he didn’t know why she wanted a desk job. Bullshit. His literal job was getting information. He owned a private security firm for fuck’s sake. But no, he wouldn’t tell me anything, and here I was, running his whole damn company for him so he could play merc for hire.

  I ground my teeth in frustration and slammed my laptop shut.

  God, I hate New York.

  The only thing I hated about my parents moving to Ohio when I was a kid was Gigi staying behind in New York. I would have loved to be the kid that got to hang out with my grandma and have her show up to all my school functions. Instead, my Gigi worked to the bone as the nanny to the Truitt family, spending all of her time doting on a kid barely f
ive minutes older than me. He got to see her every day, and I got to see her a couple of times a year on major holidays.

  Fucking Dexter Truitt. He probably wouldn’t be such a bad guy if he hadn’t taken up all of my Gigi’s time just by being alive. Then, when he was old enough to not need her anymore, his family kept her on payroll as a housekeeper until she retired. The dementia started pretty early, and it was a long ten years of in and out of doctors’ offices before we realized she needed round the clock care.

  My parents had both passed on years ago. It was up to me to make sure she had everything she needed. Dexter offered to have her stay in a facility in New York, close to the home she knew, but it wasn’t up to him to make those decisions. She was my family and I didn’t need him throwing his weight around.

  So I moved her close to me. She was my GIGI for Christ sake, so of course I hated making her move. I was just trying to make the best decision for her, and being close to her only living relative, so we could be together, seemed like the best move at the time. Ultimately, when the diagnosis came back and she needed a power of attorney, I was able to step in as her next of kin, but there was nothing I could do to shake Dexter’s hold over her.