Insatiable

by Lucy Lambert

  And then Stacey looked at me like she saw me for the first time, one pump still hanging from her finger. “You better watch out, girlie, or Vaughn might be nice to you, too.” She said it low enough so that only I heard it.

  Behind her, Vaughn frowned, a small wrinkle forming on his strong brow.

  “I’m not sure what you mean,” I said, wishing that I hadn’t done so well on my last assignment to earn this big “opportunity” of working on new material for Ward.

  Then Stacey pushed past me, walking lop-sided down the hall. I watched her odd gait until she disappeared into the elevator. A cold sweat had started on the small of my back while I wondered just what I’d gotten myself into.

  Then I noticed that Vaughn Ward stood in the doorway in front of me, leaning out so that he could watch Stacey go.

  There couldn’t have been more than a few inches between us. I could smell him, then. There was something fresh in his smell, something clean about his sweat.

  Heat rushed up into my cheeks and I backed up a couple steps. Ward noticed me, then. I tried not to notice that his eyes were a deep, chestnut brown full of a warmth I wouldn’t have expected.

  “The meeting?” he prompted. Then his eyes made a quick flick up and down my body. Why the hell did I have to wear this stupid skirt suit today?

  Be professional, followed quickly on that thought’s heels. I knew that if I played it cool with Ward, that if I toed the line, I would impress Callaghan and get on with my career.

  That was it, I knew. Ward was a stepping stone, that was all. A beautiful, tall, sculpted, nice-smelling stepping stone whose eyes make me want to smile.

  I think my kneejerk physical attraction to him made me like him even less.

  “Yes, the meeting. We… we have everything set up for you down in the conference rooms. Mockups of some TV commercials and a few banner ads placed on specific sites targeted to certain demographics that we feel will…”

  He held up one hand to silence me, one corner of his mouth cocking up in a crooked smile. “Sounds good. I’m going to hop in the shower. Worked up something of a lather…” he said, clearing his throat and tossing a look over his shoulder at the dishevelled bed, “Come on in. Grab a drink out of the mini bar. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

  “No, thank you…” I started, intending to tell him I’d go tell Mr. Callaghan he’d be down shortly. Except Ward grabbed my wrist and pulled me inside.

  The door swung shut behind me, locking me inside with Ward, locking me away from the comforting safety of the hall with its elevators and emergency exits.

  “Would you like me to call someone to check on Stacey?” I said.

  Just for a second, that roguish veneer of his cracked. His crooked smile faltered and he ran one hand up the back of his head, squeezing the dark hair there.

  Quick as it came, it went. He smiled again, “Don’t worry about her.”

  Normally I didn’t like intruding on other people’s business. However, nothing about this situation could be called normal, I thought. Besides, the nerves along the front of my stomach were practically singing.

  “So you’re going to let her go? Just like that?” I said.

  Vaughn, who’d been turning to go take his shower, paused. He looked at me. There was a bar of light coming in through the window and it sliced across his bare torso.

  He shrugged. “Just like that. Women come and go…” he glanced over at the bed and then amended his statement with, “Pun intended. Have a drink.”

  I frowned at his back as he walked into the washroom. The hiss of water followed soon thereafter. Pun intended? What an asshole! I thought.

  Still, in the back of my mind, I couldn’t help wondering what he was like. I shook my head, It doesn’t matter what he’s like, because he’s a jerk.

  I’d been standing so stiffly I hadn’t noticed until my back started complaining. Without thinking, I almost sank down onto the foot of the bed. “Yeah, let’s not do that.”

  I almost sat down in a nice wingback beside the mantle but stopped myself. It would be just my luck for Mr. Callaghan to send someone else up here to check on me only to find me relaxing.

  If that happened, he’d probably bump me from the job and give it to Trish. And I wasn’t about to let that happen. Trish, another junior exec from the firm, would love to see me taken down a peg or two.

  “You seem a little young to be at this meeting.”

  I jumped at the sound before realizing that Vaughn hadn’t bothered closing the door to the bathroom. Steam crept out along the floor.

  He was just standing in the shower stall, naked, the water sluicing down his body. I blushed, even though from here I couldn’t see him.

  He seemed so open, like he couldn’t be embarrassed. I was used to normal people. Normal, polite people who closed their bathroom doors and who didn’t make lewd puns to girls they just met.

  I guess being famous and having bank accounts with sickening numbers of zeroes by the balance took away that sort of propriety, though.

  “Still there?” Vaughn said again.

  “Y… yes,” I said. I didn’t know if it was the steam from the shower or my own body temperature rising. Whichever it was, it was too hot in there.

  Am I allowed to tell a client that they’re wasting time? Part of me wanted to. Especially after seeing how distraught that girl Stacey had been.

  Vaughn Ward needed someone to put him in his place. But that someone couldn’t be me, I knew. One word of any lip to Mr. Callaghan and I’d be lucky to be working in the mail room.

  Then the water stopped hissing. Ward emerged from the steam in nothing but a towel. Not wearing a towel, just holding one up to his face while he dried his cheeks and chin.

  At least it fell down far enough to cover everything up.

  “Oh, I’ll just wait in the hall,” I said.

  “Stay. I insist,” Ward replied. I turned away from him just as he tossed the towel to the bed. Does he have no shame?

  “You do look young,” he said. I could hear him pulling on his clothes, “You must be good at your job.”

  “I am,” I replied. I bristled at the compliment. I didn’t want any compliments from him.

  “Good. Hey, you probably know who handled booking the room for me I’ll bet. Do me a favor and tell them I prefer staying at the Harbor. This place is a bit… tacky for me. No accounting for taste, right?”

  My eyebrows tried climbing off my forehead. Who did this guy think he was? One of the richest, most eligible bachelors in the world. A man with so much influence he could make sure you don’t work in any first world country again if he so chose, my brain answered my rhetorical question.

  Shut up, I shot back at myself. He was just another entitled, rich, handsome, womanizing jerk.

  So I put on my best smile and turned around. Ward was hopping around on one foot, trying to pull his slacks up. He saw me looking and sat down heavily on the bed.

  He smiled in a bashful way I was certain just about any woman with a functioning set of ovaries would find endearing and charming. I wasn’t just about any woman, though.

  I guess even rich jerks put their pants on one leg at a time.

  “Yes, actually, I do know. I know because the person who handled your accommodations was me. And no, there isn’t any accounting for taste,” I said, giving him a pointed look before turning to face the corner again.

  Behind me there was only silence. I could feel him looking at me. Oh God, Quinn, what did you do? You didn’t really just say that, did you?

  But I did just say it, I knew. My knees started trembling, cool anxiety flooding my stomach. I have no idea why I said that. I wasn’t like that. I wasn’t that sort of person. There was just something about Vaughn Ward that brought out the worst in me.

  And I’d only met him a few minutes ago!

  I braced myself, waiting for him to tell me that he meant to inform my boss of my attitude.

  He laughed instead. It was a rich chuckle. “Now I ca
n tell why you have this job,” he said. I heard him pull his zipper up.

  I bristled some more, somehow upset that he wasn’t upset with me. He didn’t react or behave at all like I expected. I didn’t like that. I liked predictable, dependable.

  “I guess you’ll know better for next time, then. Let’s get going. I think we’re pretty late!” Ward said, chuckling again. He walked over to the door and pulled it open, light spilling in from the hall.

  I hated how good he looked in that suit. I hated him holding the door open for me, waving me out with one hand.

  Chapter 3

  VAUGHN

  Every second step I took, I thought about Stacey. I ached deep inside when I recalled the hurt look on her face, when I recalled how I reacted to her confession of her feelings.

  I reacted like I always did. With humor. With pushing away. I couldn’t help it. They were automatic defense mechanisms that kicked on whenever something like that happened. As inevitable as the ebb and flow of the tide over in the Boston harbor.

  The too-young executive girl walked in front of me, and I couldn’t help letting my eyes slide down her slate-gray skirt-suit. I admired the way it outlined her body, going in at the waist and flaring in again at the hips.

  She had her sandy-blonde hair done up in a serviceable bun, and I caught myself wondering what that hair might look like waving freely around her shoulders.

  I had to admit that I found her interesting. I intimidated her, I could tell that. Except she didn’t clam up or just act afraid like so many others did. I mean, she actually had the nerve to talk back to me about my joke about the hotel. There weren’t many people who’d do that.

  I smiled at that recollection. Yes, I liked this girl. And thinking about her kept my mind off Stacey. And all the ones that came before Stacey who’d had similar experiences.

  We got to the elevators and she jabbed at the button. “We have a number of proofs to show you, as well as some test footage for a new commercial,” she said, keeping her eyes on her reflection in the brushed steel elevator doors. “I think you’ll be pleased.”

  “With what I’m paying your firm, I’d expect nothing less,” I replied.

  Her shoulders stiffened and I grinned. It tickled something inside me to get a rise out of her.

  “Yes, well, you get what you pay for,” she replied. The elevator doors opened and she went inside. I followed. She stood in the opposite corner, her eyes fixed on the dial counting down the floors.

  I was still grinning from her reply. I leaned back against the wall, hooking my thumbs in the pockets of my jacket. In the normal light of the elevator I got a better look at her.

  I liked the front as much as I liked the back. She wore a minimal amount of makeup. She was pretty in that normal way that made me think immediately of the phrase “the girl next door.”

  But she tried to downplay her looks, I noticed. That lack of makeup, the serviceable hairstyle, the plain if well-fitting suit. She was a young woman determined to get by on the merits of her skills and talents rather than a pretty face and nice eyes.

  “I expect nothing less than the best,” I said. “Which is why I was surprised at your age.”

  I couldn’t stop myself from looking at her lips. I wondered how soft and smooth and warm they might feel against mine. Part of me recognized this as my usual defense mechanism, my usual avoiding of the feelings for the last girl by moving onto the next as quickly as possible.

  The rest of me didn’t care.

  “I know what I’m doing, Mr. Ward. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of your needs.” She still hadn’t looked away from the dial.

  My grin widened, “Oh, I know you are,” letting my tone convey the implication.

  When she realized what I meant, her cheeks turned a rosy red that made me ache inside.

  “Mr. Callaghan himself has taken the lead on handling your needs, we value your business so much. I’m sure you’ll benefit from his decades of experience,” I said.

  I laughed again. I liked this one. Cheeky. And I could see her inner struggle playing out across her face. That desire to remain professional warring with her wit.

  The flush in her cheeks deepened and I knew that she hadn’t been expecting laughter as a response. That was good. I liked surprising people, liked looking at things from angles people didn’t expect.

  I attribute a good 80% of my success to that trait.

  “You know,” I said. “You haven’t actually introduced yourself yet. I find that distinctly unfair, since you know who I am.”

  “Mr. Ward, everyone knows who you are. In fact, we’re rather counting on that fact for a few of our proposals. Which Mr. Callaghan will be explaining in just a few minutes.”

  I sucked a breath in through my teeth. Ouch. I could feel the teeth in that remark going right for the jugular. I had to say, I was enjoying myself. Women always wanted to get closer to me, to learn more about me, to talk to me.

  The woman standing in the corner across from me looked like she wished she could slide through the wall of the elevator and disappear. It was refreshing.

  And it was the opposite of what she wanted from me, I knew. I never could resist pressing people’s buttons. “Still, a real professional would introduce herself to her client.”

  She winced and I knew I found her soft spot. This one was all work and no play. But my God, I wanted to see her at play so bad.

  She swallowed, dragging her eyes from the dial and over to my face. I fixed my most charming smile to my lips, the one I knew went straight to my eyes. Women always went crazy over my eyes.

  “I’m Quinn Windsor, and I’m a junior executive with Callaghan & Montblanc Publicity and Marketing.” With more than a little reluctance, she held out her hand. Her nails were plain and well-groomed, I noticed.

  I reached out and engulfed her hand in mine. Her skin was warm and dry, which I found surprising. I was so used to clammy, nervous handshakes. “Quinn? That’s an unusual name.”

  “So is Vaughn,” she replied. I could tell she wanted to pull her hand back, but was too professional to try an experimental tug.

  “It’s good to be unusual. It gets you noticed,” I said.

  She breathed a little too sharply on her next breath and I knew I found myself another nerve.

  This one didn’t want to be noticed. At least, not for some things.

  “I’ll have to take your word for it, Mr. Ward,” she said.

  “Vaughn,” I replied. Her eyes kept straying up to mine, then taking in that smile. I liked it when she looked at me. The trouble was that I couldn’t tell if she reciprocated.

  I thought that maybe there was some mutual attraction there, but I couldn’t be certain. It was intoxicating. That flush in her cheeks was intoxicating. The way her lips parted ever so slightly as she breathed was intoxicating.

  “You know,” I said. “I think I’m usually pretty good at reading women. But I can’t quite get a bead on you.”

  She looked away, fixing her gaze on the dial. We’d be out of the elevator soon, I knew. “Sorry to disappoint, Mr. Ward.”

  The way she turned her face showed me her profile. I let my eyes run over her face. Girl next door, indeed.

  “Don’t be. I’d like to ask you a question,” I said.

  “You’re asking permission?” she asked, eyes flicking back at me for a moment.

  “That surprises you?” I replied.

  “It does. As near as I can tell, you say whatever is on your mind regardless of the content.”

  “Sometimes,” I agreed. There was a firecracker under the surface of this one, I could tell. She needed someone to light her fire.

  “So what is it?” she said, her curiosity overcoming her reservations.

  I tugged her closer, our bodies almost touching. This close, I could see the hint of freckles on her cheeks. I bet they came out so nicely in the summer sun. I bet she hated them so much, hated how girlish they made her look. I wanted to kiss them.

  Sh
e smelled nice, too. Nothing fancy. Maybe just the barest hint of perfume. It begged me to lean in closer, to graze her skin with my lips while I breathed deeply of her.

  I could also feel her begin trembling. But what sort of tremble was it? Barely-suppressed attraction? Annoyance? Both? I still couldn’t tell.

  “What would you do if I kissed you right now, junior executive Quinn Windsor from Callaghan & Montblanc?”

  Her breath caught in her throat, and her eyes widened so that I could see the whites. Her mouth opened and closed a couple times. I considered leaning in and trying my luck then and there. I couldn’t get my mind off those freckles.

  Her palm became hotter against mine. But she still didn’t make a move to pull it away.

  Her face flushed again, bringing out those freckles even more. My heart palpitated.

  “I…” she started. Her eyes bounced around the cramped space of the elevator, unable to stay still.

  Then the elevator dinged, the doors sliding open. I groaned inwardly. Just a few more seconds, I thought, a few more seconds was all I needed.

  Quinn looked out the door and saw no one waiting in the lobby. Then she turned back to me, leaning in. Unable to help it, my heart rate picked up. A tingle ran down the front of my stomach.

  “I’d slap you so hard you’d have to explain the hand print on your cheek for the next week,” she said. Then she tugged her hand out of mine and wiped it on her jacket. “For me and for that girl, Stacey.”

  Then she smiled and stepped out of the elevator, “Please follow me, Mr. Ward.”

  Her mention of Stacey hit me in the gut like a hard-knuckled fist. I stood there, gaping at her until the elevator doors started closing again. She had to reach in and trip the sensor so that they’d re-open.

  My expression seemed to satisfy her, and I knew she thought this whole thing was over.

  It wasn’t.

  So I smiled, tugging at my jacket to get it back in its proper place on my shoulders, and stepped out, “Lead the way.”

  Chapter 4

  QUINN

  Thank God that’s over! I thought, yanking open the glass door to my condo building. I lived up in the North End on Clark Street. It was a nice building, with good views of some of the historic sections of the city.