Vote Then Read: Volume III

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Vote Then Read: Volume III Page 347

by Aleatha Romig

Who knew, perhaps I would surprise everyone and accept Greg as my future partner because at least he was normal and predictable. I could have my fling with danger and then appreciate Greg all the more.

  Everyone used everyone else. I didn’t let guilt eat at me for using Penn—especially when he was the one using me just as much.

  “We’re here, Ms. Charlston. Would you like me to wait, or do you believe the meeting will last a while?” David twisted in the driver’s seat to face me sitting in the back.

  My hair hung neatly over my shoulder, my black skirt with cream lace belt and Chinese blossom jacket painted me as the leader of the largest retail chain in the USA.

  I clutched the folder on my lap. “The last time I met with this supplier, I didn’t leave for four hours.”

  “I remember.” David grinned. “I also recall you texting me apologetically saying you wouldn’t be much longer.”

  I nodded. I was younger then and less adept at offsite meetings and the guilt at leaving David waiting in a car for so long. That was his job—along with other tasks, but I didn’t expect him to be bored or uncomfortable.

  “If you have errands you’d like to run, feel free. I’ll call thirty minutes before it’s due to end to give you time to return.”

  “Are you sure?” His large bulk twisted further in the seat. “If you think it’s only going to be a short meeting, I’ll wait.”

  I shook my head. “I’d rather know you were busy than bored.”

  His ebony skin bounced the streetlight off his forehead as he laughed. “Sure. Well, I’ll have my phone, and I’ll keep an eye on the time. If I haven’t heard from you by ten p.m., I’ll head back anyway.”

  “Okay.” Hoisting the files into my arm and grabbing my handbag, I let myself out of the Range Rover and smiled at the doormen who bid me welcome to the Blue Rabbit.

  I’d eaten here before. The tapas menu served second-to-none delicacies with delectable samplers. Not that I’d been able to eat very much because last time had been a business meeting, just like tonight.

  Most of my social engagements, minus the last-minute high school get-togethers, were with bigwigs from other companies, improving our relationships or building on already established trade agreements.

  Stuffing my face with salmon crostini or risotto balls wasn’t exactly correct etiquette.

  Striding in cream heels, I approached the maître-d. “Hello, I’m looking for the Loveline party?”

  “Ah, yes. Right this way.” The headwaiter nodded and guided me into the restaurant, around quaint tables and big tables to a large one at the back of the room where it was quieter. Blue velvet drapes hung on the walls while the salt and pepper shakers were in the shape of cute bunnies.

  Nearing the table, Jennifer Stark stood up and waited with her hand outstretched. “Hello again, Ms. Charlston.”

  I shook her hand warmly. “Please, call me Elle.”

  “Elle then.” Letting me go, she sat back down while motioning to the three other diners around the table. “This is Bai, Andrew, and Yumaeko from the merchandising and production departments in Shenzhen.”

  “Hello.” I nodded politely.

  Settling into the last remaining seat, I glanced once around the restaurant, afraid that just like the other times I’d been in public, Penn might show up. He seemed to have a knack for finding me.

  Jennifer leaped straight into it while two waiters brought water and an array of starters to the table. “As you know, Loveline is an up-and-coming label we’re hoping will find a niche market at Belle Elle.”

  I opened my folder and pulled out my voice recorder. I’d long since stopped trying to take notes. This way Fleur could type up the important points when I headed into the office tomorrow.

  “Can you tell me a bit about what Loveline will consist of?”

  Jennifer smiled shyly at her co-workers before reaching into her bag and pulling out a pamphlet. She kept it face-down, passing it over the white tablecloth. “The world is much more open about sexuality these days, and we believe capitalizing on this openness is a prime opportunity, especially with more erotic literature and movies in the mainstream market.”

  I turned the leaflet over and promptly slapped it against my chest, so the young waitress didn’t see the giant glittery dildo on the front. “You’re proposing sex toys? In a major department store?”

  “We’re proposing toys for adults in a private room located within the lingerie department, yes.”

  My cheeks burned.

  Up until Penn came into my life, I hadn’t had to deal with sex at all. Now, my dreams were saturated in skin and panting. My days consumed with kissing and thrusting. And now, I had to talk about dildos being sold under our brand.

  “I’m not so sure that’s appropriate.”

  Jennifer grinned, her red hair tied in a neat bun on the top of her head. “I thought you’d say that, so I brought the latest numbers from Mark Sacs in Australia, who recently introduced the Loveline to their department stores with record-breaking success.” She slid another pamphlet toward me, only this time, the numbers and graphs weren’t so risqué.

  My eyes widened as I glanced at the figures. “Wow, that’s impressive.”

  “The entire stock of two hundred Seahorses and three hundred Hummingbirds were sold in the first week alone. They’ve had to reorder three times since introducing, along with a massive bump in sales on lingerie just from add-on purchases.” She grinned. “The bottom line talks, Elle.”

  I looked up. “What exactly is a Seahorse and a Hummingbird?”

  Her business partners chuckled as she slid over a small black bag with pink crepe paper sticking from the top. “I thought you might ask. Included are samples from our top sellers including the Tiger Tail, Rattlesnake, and Panda kiss.”

  “All named after animals?” I tugged the bag and placed it securely in my lap, leaning over the top to keep the contents hidden while I peeked inside.

  There in neat, classy see-through teal boxes were an array of dildos, vibrators, and bejeweled plugs.

  I closed it, swallowing hard as my fantasies imagined Penn wielding one of those as he fisted his cock in his hand. Jennifer was right. Men and women still played. I was in a long-running game myself and had no doubt others dabbled with toys and apparatus.

  Why not capitalize on such an emerging and now acceptable market?

  Dad will have a fit.

  But I was the boss.

  And I was curious.

  Placing the bag by my ankle, I linked my hands on the table and smiled. “Let’s talk.”

  Penn (8:45p.m.): Three days is too long. I’ve allowed you to avoid me out of respect. But tonight, you’re mine.

  Penn (9:15 p.m.): I have methods to find you, Elle. I gave you my word I wouldn’t lie to you, so believe me when I say I’m tasting you tonight and you’ll fucking beg for more.

  Penn (9:35 p.m.): Seeing as you didn’t text back, I’ve used the GPS on your phone to find your location.

  Penn (9:55 p.m.): Fuck, you look sexy while you talk business.

  My head shot up, glancing around the restaurant.

  I’d felt my phone vibrate a few times during the business meeting but hadn’t checked it. I didn’t want to be rude and interrupt the flow of figures and forecasts. I’d only taken it out to text David and tell him I was almost done and to bring the car around.

  That was until I found multiple texts from Penn.

  My heart mimicked the rabbit salt and pepper shakers, hopping around my chest as I searched the last remaining diners. Being a Tuesday meant few people lingered over their meals, needing to head home for another early start tomorrow.

  “Everything okay?” Jennifer asked, signing off her credit card bill for the tapas we’d nibbled on throughout the presentation. I’d offered to pay, but she hadn’t let me. Not that she would mind, seeing as I’d placed a significant order to be delivered in two months to test the market.

  It was sinful buying sex toys to put into a mainstrea
m retail chain, but with a bit of rejigging in the lingerie department, a grotto for adults could be built rather easily with strict rules about entry and all the necessary precautions of unlabeled opaque shopping bags and codes on receipts rather than in-depth details of their purchase.

  If I was honest, it was rather exciting.

  Just like the complex feelings I had at the thought of Penn watching me.

  But after scanning all the tables, there was no sign of him.

  “Yes, I’m fine.” I looked back at her, slouching in relief and fizzing with disappointment.

  He’s not here.

  I didn’t know why he caused two polar extremes. I wanted him here. I didn’t want him here. Neither was a lie. I literally felt both things at once.

  Jennifer pushed her chair in, gathering her materials and smiling as her colleagues stood. “It was a pleasure to meet you again, Elle.”

  We shook hands. “Likewise.”

  I closed my folder and ensured I had my little black bag of samplers and my handbag.

  Together, we all left the table.

  I turned toward the exit.

  And there he was.

  His elbow leaned on the bar while his ankles crossed elegantly. He held a tumbler to his mouth, his eyes glued to me as if he hadn’t been looking anywhere else. As if he couldn’t look anywhere else.

  Half of me wanted to slap him while the other half wanted to kiss him until we were kicked from the restaurant for obscene public displays of affection.

  I swallowed hard as my feet remembered what to do and followed Jennifer and her partners toward fresh air and my awaiting car ride.

  Tipping the rest of his drink down his throat, Penn pushed away from the bar and strolled ever so causally but not casually at all toward the same door I did. He wasn’t in a suit this time, but in a black long-sleeve sweater pushed up to his elbows and faded denim jeans. The material wrapping his chest clung to every ridge and muscle, reminding me I’d seen what he hid in his jeans but hadn’t seen anything else.

  My fingers itched to tear it off him.

  To find out if he was as perfect naked as he was dressed.

  My heart mangled itself into sexually frustrated pieces as I exited and lost sight of him. Jennifer and her partners said their goodbyes before hopping into a Town Car to return to their hotel.

  David jumped out of the awaiting Range Rover and grabbed my belongings. “All good? Ready to go?”

  I should say yes. I should leap in the 4WD and demand he peel away like a racecar driver to keep me out of the clutches of Penn Everett. But I dawdled deliberately, raking a hand through my hair and pretending to soak up the balmy night sky.

  “I’ll take her home.”

  The smooth, sensual voice wrapped around me from behind as Penn stepped to my side and placed his hand on my lower back.

  Three days deleted in a poof of desire.

  My anger with him for lying.

  My rage at being manipulated…all gone.

  He’d made this itch inside me intolerable.

  He would have to be the one to fix it.

  Penn smiled, leaning forward to capture the little black bag from David’s fingers. “We’ll take that, too.”

  My eyes widened as I gulped. “How do you—”

  Know what’s in there?

  I stopped midway because the question was useless.

  Judging by his texts, he’d been watching me for a while. He would’ve seen flashes of the product as I fondled a few under the table, testing the rubber dildos and doing what Jennifer suggested to see how lifelike they were.

  My cheeks burned as Penn captured my hand. “Elle, please tell your driver that you’re happy to let me take you home and that I’m not kidnapping you or holding you under duress.”

  I blinked, noticing David’s tense shoulders and the way he’d pushed aside his blazer to reveal the hidden holster and handle of his weapon. “It’s okay, David. I know him.”

  “Ma’am?” He didn’t take his eyes off Penn. He looked him up and down. “He does look familiar, now that you mention it.”

  Familiar? Why would he look familiar?

  Penn was anything but ordinary and I was fairly sure I’d never bumped into him before. Besides, he himself had told my father he’d only recently returned to New York after being away for a time.

  I said politely, “His name is Penn Everett.”

  Penn amended. “Ms. Charlston's fiancé.”

  I cringed. Words dangled on my tongue to deny it, but what would be the point? My father already believed, Steve, Greg…what was one more in the scheme of this storybook?

  David shifted in place. “I see.” He didn’t relax, though, which I found mildly disconcerting.

  He turned his attention to me.

  Years ago, when my father had hired him to protect me, we’d worked on a series of codes I could say if I felt threatened or couldn’t speak honestly. If I was being held at gunpoint or being robbed, a simple phrase would send David into military mode.

  “Any other orders for the night, ma’am?” He waited, giving me time to speak one of the codes.

  I’m tired and believe I’ll take a bubble bath tonight: code for a kidnapping.

  I’m not feeling well; I might walk instead: code for a robbery or gun in my side.

  I said neither.

  The silence dragged on a second too long before Penn tugged on my fingers.

  Without hesitation, I moved with him. “No, not tonight, David.”

  David didn’t try to save me again.

  21

  TEN MINUTES INTO the walk, my nerves got the better of me.

  Squeezing Penn’s fingers, I asked, “Where are you taking me?”

  “My place.”

  “Why?”

  He chuckled, his face shrouded in darkness. “Why do you think?”

  My tummy clenched as his voice lost its decorum and slipped into sin.

  “To fuck you, of course.” His teeth flashed as he added, “I’ve waited for as long as I can. You haven’t told your father I was lying about our engagement, and you haven’t run back to your bodyguard. Therefore, I know you’re up for whatever I have planned, and you will not argue.” His jaw lowered. “Will you, Bell Button?”

  My mouth watered with how wrong but how right that sounded. Fantasies of what could happen tonight unraveled with lightning desire—

  Wait.

  He called me Bell Button.

  Anger took precedent. “That isn’t your nickname to use.”

  “No?” He raised an eyebrow. “Yet you let—what was her name? Chloe—call you Ding Dong Bell. Do you prefer that?”

  My teeth locked together. “I prefer neither. Elle is perfectly acceptable. So use it.”

  He laughed in a soft sigh. “So defensive.”

  “Not defensive. Protective.”

  His head shot up, his eyes sinking into me like barbs. “You feel the need to protect yourself around me?”

  “Constantly.”

  His shadow swallowed me. “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “You know what. Answer the question and stop dancing around it.” The way he pushed for an answer hinted he had ulterior motives to know why I barricaded myself from him. Why I would never let myself feel more for him than just physical desire.

  We’d known each other a week or so. I was woman enough to admit I found him immensely attractive. I was girl enough to admit I liked the idea of instant true love. But I was realistic enough to know that would never happen for a business owner like me.

  Besides, he was ruthless in his own success. Webbed in lies and hidden in half-truths, he was not a man to trust with anything breakable—especially my heart.

  My body would bruise.

  But it would heal.

  It didn’t stop the fact that Penn wanted something from me.

  If it was just sex, then our motives were in line.

  But the more I spent in his company, the more I sensed that wasn’t his
end game.

  I narrowed my eyes, trying to see past his arrogant shields and read what he truly meant. But all he revealed was a man supreme in his ability and self-worth. A man as proud and as pompous as a peacock.

  Yet…he has a son.

  How could someone so cold and emotionally unavailable have a child dependent on him? Where was Stewie’s mother? Who was Larry? What the hell would happen between us once we’d slept together?

  The questions built on top of his in an unstable Jenga tower. One wrong answer and the entire foundation of our so-called relationship would crumble.

  Tonight was not the night to let it fall.

  Tomorrow it could.

  Because by tomorrow, I would’ve got what I wanted, he would’ve got what he wanted, and things would go back to the way they were. Penn and his lies would fade from my life before he caused any more damage.

  “You ask why, yet I could ask you the same question.” I pushed ahead, leaving the glow of a streetlight and stepping into a pool of night. “Why do you protect yourself from me?”

  He slammed to a stop. “I don’t.”

  “You do.”

  His jaw worked, his hands opening and closing by his sides. “I’m guarded; there’s a difference.”

  “Is there?” I cocked my head. “Funny, I would say protective and guarded were the same thing.”

  He stormed toward me, grabbing me by the throat and marching me backward until I hit the façade of an apartment building. The brick was hard. He was harder. I was the soft middle that didn’t stand a chance. “If you ever try to psychoanalyze me again, you’ll be sorry.”

  I swallowed, forcing fear past the cage of his hand around my neck. Even now, my body hummed beneath his grip. It seemed my cells had embraced the sensation of eroticism and found any grasp appropriate.

  “Why would I be sorry?” My voice barely registered audible. “What would you do? Kill me?”

  I meant it flippantly, casually. A phrase tossed around far too often and never meant. But instead of either ignoring the cliché dare or admitting he ran much darker than I thought, he smiled with all the sharpness of a butcher’s arsenal. “Perhaps.”

  My heart leaped out of my body, racing to borrow a telephone to call the police. But my insides burned with a different flavor than before. If lust was a color, I’d been bathed in reds and pinks for days. Now I swam in blacks and deep, deep purples, wanting nothing more than to let go and forget who I was and become who I dared never be.

 

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