Dirty in Charge

by Luke Steel

  “Does that mean I can kiss you now?”

  I laugh and lean forward, overeager. The boat rocks beneath us and I have to sit back to keep from falling. There’s a single wooden bench seat between us as we’re facing one another but the boat rocks if one moves and not the other.

  “Whoa! Ok, ok. How about, I come to you and you come to me. Meet in the middle. Ready?”

  It’s so silly. Very slowly we both try to rise at the same time, leaning forward over our legs. Mirror images, we both lean our hands on the middle bench seat, and when our lips get close, he lifts one hand and brushes the hair from my face.

  This kiss is unlike any of the others to this point. Since we met we’ve been tearing at each other, frantic and fast. No hot, passionate primate tangling this time.

  Instead, this kiss is like a first kiss. Lips and breath, and the lightest of touches on sun-dappled water, the scent of wood smoke and fall and him in the air. Before we part, reluctantly, he presses his temple and then his cheek to mine, a last lingering touch before we have to sit back or risk falling out of the boat entirely.

  I feel a shift as James begins the row back.

  I try to tell myself this is just fun again. That we’re just two people enjoying each other’s company and that’s all. But my brain won’t even pretend to go through the motions. Impossible to be this attracted, genuinely like someone this much, and not start to feel something.

  The problem is, despite it all, there’s part of me that still feels there’s no way I could be enough for a man as sweet and, yes, successful as James. I have nothing to bring to the table here.

  I try to put the thoughts away as we get closer to the dock. We spent an incredible night together, and this entire day has been one of the best I can remember. Why ruin it?

  When we get to the dock, James ties up the boat and pulls himself up onto the wooden slats. When he reaches down to help me, he pulls me up, into his arms and holds me there for a long moment. Pressed close, that familiar heat curls up between us again. I cling to him as he lets me down slowly, the delicious friction lighting up all kinds of things inside me.

  I can feel his erection through our clothes and I remember all the hours and ways we gorged ourselves on each other.

  “When are you done today?” his voice is gravelly and low.

  “After the party. Late.”

  “Spend the night with me again.”

  “James, I—“ he cuts me off with a hungry, animal kiss. Not the sweet kind. The kind that kept me panting and begging in his bed for hours last night.

  When it ends, I’m ready to say yes to anything he wants.

  He growls and pulls me close, then abruptly lets me go. “I’m going to take that as a yes.”

  I take a deep, clarifying breath and push my hair back. And then I nod.

  “Ok. I know you have a lot of work, so I’ll take care of the boat. You should go before I drag you into the woods and do bad things to you.”

  Without a word, I turn and run up the hill away from the dock. I don’t dare look back—if I do, I might run back and drag him into the woods—but as I go I’m practically skipping. It’s such a gorgeous, amazing, fantastic day!

  And it all comes screeching to halt as I round the corner to the house.

  Justine is standing in the middle of the path that leads to the side entrance. By her stance and the way she’s staring me down as I walk up to her, I can see she’s been waiting for me.

  “What a romantic little scene that was. Did you enjoy your boat ride?”

  The bottom drops out of my stomach. And I realize, of course, the lake. Almost the entire lake is visible from the house. How could I have been so stupid?

  Justine’s glare is triumphant and evil. “I’ll be honest. I’ve never liked you. But at the very least you’ve been useful. But kissing and cavorting with a client? And while you’re working? Unacceptable.”

  I try to hide the misery and embarrassment I feel. No matter what she says, I know I’ve done a very good job. She has no reason to hate me as much as she apparently does.

  “Grayson will be here tomorrow to see the work for the reception. You can bet this is going in my report to him. Enjoy your last days, Emma. They’ll be your last at R.E.” Grayson Chandler is the company owner. He’s always on site for our highest-profile events. The wedding at Blake House certainly qualifies.

  Justine gives one last withering look before she turns on her heel and storms away.

  Ten

  James

  It’s the final night before the wedding tomorrow. You wouldn’t know it the way everyone is laughing and celebrating that we’re all supposed to be up early in the morning, but only the bride and groom look like they’ll be making an early night of it. More friends and family have arrived, and we’ve got a full house.

  Joe and Lena have been living together for over two years, but for the night before the ceremony, they’ll be heading to opposite ends of the house. The bachelor party was two weeks ago, so no shenanigans are planned that will interrupt any beauty rest.

  I haven’t seen Emma since this morning. It’s bugging me, but I’ve also been kept pretty busy with best man duties, good son duties, piggy back rides for the cousin duties, and then doing laps taking everyone on tours of Blake House before dinner.

  After dinner, Lena stands and calls everyone to attention.

  “First, we want to thank our parents and all of our guests for coming from so far to join us for the big day. It’s been one of the most incredible weeks of my life, and tomorrow I get to marry my very best friend.”

  Joe stands and kisses her, to the sound of more cheers and spoons clinking glasses.

  “We also want to propose a special toast of thanks to James, my new big brother-in-law, for his incredible generosity and love in giving this gift to us. The wedding, the house, and bringing us all together.”

  “You can’t keep the house,” I call out, to more laughter.

  She ignores that and then raises her glass again. She’s getting a little teary, Lena is.

  “We have one special thing for everyone before we head upstairs to rest for the big day and you all head over for some dessert and some warm-up dancing for tomorrow. We’d like to ask everyone to come out on the terrace for a special lantern lighting by the lake.”

  The lights inside the house and on the grounds are dimmed. Shawls and quilted wraps are offered at the doors as the terrace is thrown open, and attendants direct the crowd through the doors. The group is led to the stone balustrade overlooking the lake, where several small stations of lit lanterns wait. A small buzz of excitement begins when the lanterns are lifted and passed around in the crowd.

  The crowd parts to let Joe and Lena through. They walk hand and hand to the edge of the terrace where a large paper lantern shaped like a giant hummingbird is lit and passed to them.

  I know everything is staged and planned to the last detail, but that doesn’t make it any less special when Lena and Joe let go of the lantern and it rises. At the same time, lanterns rise up in the distance from all around the darkened lake, and the crowd oohs as they rise together on a gentle breeze over the water. In the darkened twilight, everyone takes their cue to release their own lanterns, and watch as they rise together. Everyone is quiet and happy as they watch the lantern lights lift and float as though by magic.

  Suddenly I wish Emma were here to watch this with me. This idea was hers and it’s as beautiful as she is.

  I catch sight of her at the edge of the terrace helping one of our small cousins lift her lantern up high and launch it in the air. Her face is lit by the soft golden glow of the flame within. Watching her with the little girl, I feel this strange tug in my chest, and my palms feel hot. This isn’t the first time, but watching Emma with the child, seeing them laugh and smile as they point and follow the lantern, feels like I’m watching a scene from my future. Emma with a little one, her eyes alight and happy. In the glow of a perfect evening, anything and everything seems possi
ble.

  Emma looks up then and catches me watching. Our eyes lock, and all I want to do is go to her and carry her off somewhere forever.

  Except… Emma breaks the contact abruptly, jerking her head to the side and away. No smile, no recognition. Impersonal.

  Something’s wrong.

  I watch her move along the edge of the crowd. She doesn’t look at me once. Everyone’s eyes are looking up, the crowd still transfixed by the floating lanterns, so I don’t get the usual stops or pats as I wind through and after her. Still, she’s moving too fast, and I can’t shake the feeling it’s on purpose. As she steps out of the light from the lanterns, I only barely catch a shadowed glimpse of her as she slips through an opening in the hedgerow and out of sight. I’m a good twenty feet behind her, and when I push through the hedgerow, she’s disappeared.

  There are only two ways I can go in the narrow garden path. And I pick the one that leads away from the house. I’m not a betting man, but I have a hunch my girl is running. I just don’t know why.

  I sprint to the very far end just in time to see a shadow dart around another corner. I pick up speed to try and catch her, and then almost slam directly into her back anyway. The path dead ends in a small garden alcove and she’s stopped in the middle, trapped.

  It’s not a large area, but there’s a stone fountain at the center with a statue of a Roman maiden pouring water from a stone jug. We’re far from the lights of the house and all the people in it.

  She’s moved away from me, but I can hear Emma panting in the dark. I stay where I am at the entrance, just in case she tries to rush past. I want to reach for her, but every instinct is telling me that will just set her running.

  “Hi,” I say to the dark. The white stone fountain glows in the dark, and Emma is a dark silhouette beside it.

  “Hi,” she says back, her voice low and serious.

  “What are we doing? Why are you running from me? ” When I reach for her she pulls away. I can’t see her face in the dark.

  “Stop. Stop. I’m working, and this…” the shadow waves her hands in the air between us, “…all this is a distraction.”

  I stand back. It’s dark in the alcove, but I can hear the tension in her voice even though she’s several steps away. “Ok, we got a little carried away. I admit it. But that doesn’t mean you have to pull away from me like—“

  “Like what?” she cuts me off. She walks into a shaft of moonlight and I can see her face now, tense and serious. “Like we don’t know each other? Like we just met four days ago and we don’t really know anything about each other?”

  “That’s not true. We did just meet, but we—“

  “I don’t know you. I know you have a nice family, and you’re a nice guy, and you’re rich. I know I work for you. This is just another big party for you, fun and games. Not for me. I have to work after this weekend. I have a whole life after this.”

  She has a point. I feel like I’ve been flying since I met her, and this entire week is a slice out of life for me. But Emma isn’t on vacation and she’s not here to party.

  “I get it,” I say, solemn and one hundred percent sincere. “I see what you’re saying. And I’m sorry. I don’t want to make your life difficult.”

  My words don’t seem to make her feel better. She turns away from me and for a second I’m worried she’s going to run off again. I’m relieved when she just starts to pace.

  “Emma?” I make a cautious approach. She’s staring off into the dark and doesn’t notice. “Emma, please look at me.”

  “What, James? What?” The agitation is gone, replaced by a weary tone and sigh.

  “I still want the same thing I asked for days ago. I want to see you. After. When all of this is done. Let me call you. And we’ll start over, like real people.”

  Rather than calm, she just seems to get agitated again.

  “Something else is wrong. Why won’t you tell me what it is?” I’m starting to get frustrated, too.

  She does this weird battle with herself, and then finally blurts it out.

  “I’m not like you. I don’t come from money, I don’t live like you do. I live in a tiny studio apartment in Brooklyn and work my ass off just to make rent. You live in a freaking castle!”

  “What has that got to do with anything?”

  “I’m not into the ‘rich guy saves poor girl,’ thing, OK? I’m not that girl.”

  “Wait a minute. Are you seriously saying you won’t see me because I have money?”

  She rounds on me, full on frustrated. “James, I have no idea what we could possibly have in common! The sex is phenomenal, yes, but—“

  Phenomenal? Right on!

  “But what, Emma? We’ll find out! I know you’re a talented designer and my family likes you. You’re intelligent and direct and you’ve turned me on since the second I met you. I want to know more. I’m dying to get to know you.”

  I step close to her now and put my hands on her arms. She’s folded and tight on herself, not letting me in yet, but not pulling away.

  I massage her arms, her shoulders. “Don’t ask me to apologize for having what I have any more than I would ask you to apologize for what you don’t.”

  She turns her head, looks away into the dark again. “That’s so easy for you to say.”

  “Don’t.” I pull her into me and press my forehead to hers. “Don’t do that. I listened to you, I said I was sorry for screwing things up for you this week. But I never assumed anything about you.”

  She softens in my arms, her head falling to my shoulder.

  I pull back, but only to take her face in my hands. “This doesn’t happen to me every day. I don’t think it’s happened to me ever. There’s this thing between us.”

  I pause at that one and we both have to chuckle because the “thing” between us is poking into her stomach.

  “There’s this other thing between us, though, too. I know you feel it.” Her cheeks are soft in my hands. “Don’t you?”

  Her breath is coming fast now and she turns her face into my palm. I slide my thumb over her lips and then I pull her in to kiss her.

  There’s resistance in her body, her shoulders, but the kiss melts the last of it. She opens her arms and clings to my shoulders, tugging me closer as my tongue dips into her mouth. I realize that I already love that about her. The way she grabs hold, demanding. I kiss her chin, her nose, her beautiful lips. She responds to all of it, opening for more.

  But it’s not enough. I need to hear her say it’s not enough and she’ll see me. I pull away.

  She makes a kittenish sound of protest and tries to follow. It kills me to hold her off. “Tell me we’ll see each other after this. After the wedding and everyone packs up and goes home.”

  Emma lunges at me, tries to wriggle out of my hands and kiss me again. I’m gratified the tables are turned, but I know better than to leave the deal before it’s sealed. “I want your number. I want to see you again. After. Promise me.”

  Emma does this bratty little stomp and whole body shimmy, the put-upon event planner. “Okay, okay. We’ll try it and see.”

  “Good,” I say. And then I let her go.

  She snags my jacket. “Wait a minute. Where are you going?”

  “Back to the party. You said you’re working.”

  She drops her arm and just looks at me, her mouth open.

  “After, right?” I shoot my cuffs. Smooth my hair. Grin at her. “After.”

  Then I walk away.

  And make it about three steps before she spins me around and attacks my mouth.

  I’m laughing so hard it almost stops the kiss. She gives me a feline growls and kisses harder, a lioness ready to pull me apart unless she gets what she wants. This time she’s the one who grabs my hands and puts them around her, then shoves her hands back in my hair and tugs, practically climbing me as our bodies meet and ignite.

  I can give as well as I get. I haul her hard and tight against me, pulling her back by her hair to drop m
y mouth to her neck. Emma cries out and then burrows close. She arches against me when I drop further and bury my face against her cleavage to lick and suck.

  She purrs when I get one of her nipples into my mouth and swirl the tip of my tongue around it. She made the same noise in my bed last night, curling up and around me, pressing deeper. I remember how wet she got and I can’t resist sliding my hand down and under her skirt. Emma doesn’t even try to stop me, and her hand covers mine as I find exactly what I’m looking for.

  Her pussy is already wet and ready—I can feel the slick on her thighs. Ready for my cock, my tongue, I know it. I move to her other nipple just as I slip my fingers in deep, and Emma surges so hard against my hand she nearly stumbles.There’s no pool table to keep us upright this time and I don’t want to take her on the ground. I make a quick survey and make for a stone bench at the far end of the fountain. Her hands are already tugging at the buttons of my suit pants and, following her lead, I open my fly.

  Quick as a thief, she slips her hand into my briefs and grips my cock. She cuddles in close, her mouth at my collar tugging at my tie with her teeth while she starts a fevered stroke. In the dark I see a naughty little glint in her eye as she brings her palm up and licks the center right in front of me, then lowers her hand to my cock again.

  “Turnabout’s fair play, huh?”

  “Something like that,” she says, then drops to her knees.

  I can’t see everything as she kneels in the shadows, but I know exactly what she’s up to when I feel her tongue on my shaft and then the animal hot wet of her mouth as she takes me in deep. The stroke as she sucks and pulls me in is like fire and electricity all at once. The velvet soft tongue and pull of her cheeks as she sucks and licks almost does me in.

  She’s good at this—so fucking good at this—but pretty soon it’s not enough. She started this. The previous tension and the way I want her is still roaring through me. As much as I want to let her have her way and suck my cock as long as she wants, I want inside her. If I can’t have her pussy just this second, something else warm and soft and wet will just have to do.

  I step forward just enough so that she’s forced to lean back on her heels against the bench. She clings to my pant legs as I put a hand to the back of her head and flex to push further into her mouth. She takes it all the way, draws back to swirl her tongue around the head, then lets me push all the way again. I take one more step and pin her back against the bench. She doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest, moans and tugs at my pants leg, urging more. I have both hands in her hair now and I flex again, fucking her mouth, pushing to the very back while she takes everything.