by Shell, C.
I am too tired tonight to worry about pajamas tonight. Stripping off my work clothes and throwing them in a pile on my floor, I climb up onto my overly large bed in nothing, but my frilly pink panties. I let out a loud happy sigh as I cuddle into my soft champagne colored chenille comforter and overstuffed pillows that drape across my bed. I splurged more on this bedding set than I ever have on a single item that does not fall into the clothing category, but it was worth every penny. I swear I could lay bundled in its warm softness forever. Throwing my hand out, I feel around on top of my side table, until my fingers make contact and grasp around the small remote for my IPod. Flipping it on I laugh realizing the last song I listened to was, We are never ever getting back together by Taylor Swift. I think it is safe to say it is time to update my songs selections.
Between the long day, cozy comforter, and too much wine it takes no time for me to fall asleep and as I do the one thing that remains on my mind is Daemon Scott. Out of all the gorgeous eligible men in Houston, why does my traitorous body have to continuously want the one person it can never have?
*******
"Friday is going to be a better day for me." I continue to chant my new mantra for the day as I sink into the mountains of work cluttering my desk.
You would think with a full time secretary at my disposal I would not continue to spend my time filing and researching, but with help like Charity I would do better having a monkey around then her. Rubbing my tired eyes from staring at my computer for so long, I grab my empty coffee mug and head to the kitchen for some much needed caffeine motivation.
Passing through the kitchen door I stop and smile at a glassy eyed Cherie sitting at the table with her head lying in her hands. Since I have started working with her I have never seen her look anything, but a vision of perfection, which is why her appearance today worries me. What the hell happened to Cherie? I wonder as I look her over. Her hair is hanging loosely out of her bun and her clothes are a bit wrinkly. Not a good sign.
"You okay Cherie?" I ask, my voice laced with concern. Normally Cherie would send her assistant to fetch her coffee; in fact I don't ever recall actually seeing her in the kitchen before today.
"I will be fine. I just have a killer migraine, and so far the Tylenol I took, has not touched it," she sighs turning her heard so she can see me better."Please, tell me I don't look as bad as I feel?"
Tricky question. How to answer that without sticking my foot in my mouth and pissing off my boss? "Umm... well your hair is falling a bit and you might need to rectify your clothing, but your make-up is still flawless as ever."
"Damn. In other words I am screwed and look like shit." It is not a question but a statement, so I don't answer her, but nod my head silently. I have never had a migraine myself, but Tony has had one or two before and from the way he moans and groans with them I am guessing they are really horrible.
Lightly patting her on the back I ask," Is there anything I can do to help?"
"I think I am going to head on home early so I can lie down until it goes away. Loud sounds and bright light makes it so much worse. Would you mind handling a Skype meeting I have scheduled for this afternoon? It is a straight forward meeting just going over the final contract and get signatures set up. I can send Charity all the information you will need for it?"
"Yea, of course," I say without hesitation. Remembering my reason for coming into the kitchen in the first place, I head to the counter to refill my mug, adding in just the right amount of sugar and milk to make it turn a creamy light brown color. My mother always teases me that coffee is more of my additive to the cream and sugar, not the main ingredient. She might be right, but damn it tastes so good.
Saying a quick good-bye and hoping that she gets to feeling better, I head back to my desk where I find several missed calls and texts from Sasha reminding me about tonight. Like I could ever forget that she is on a mission to find me a man. I am not in the mood to talk to her about it so I text her back instead.
Me: I did not forget, but that does not mean that I am completely on board with your plan tonight
Sasha: I plan on doing all the work, you just need to look amazing and be on time for once.
Me: You are scaring me
Sasha: Good... See you tonight and wear sexy panties and not those big granny ones you claim are comfortable.
Me: Shut up and leave my panties alone. lol
Throwing my phone back into my desk drawer, I fire up my computer and send Charity an instant message asking her to order me lunch and letting her know that a file from Cherie should arrive shortly, and to bring it to me immediately so I can look it over before the meeting.
Digging back into my own files I manage to push through roughly half of them before I hear a faint knock on the door and Charity comes barreling in carrying a bag of food from the Chinese place down the street in one hand, a file tucked under her arm and a garment bag held up high with her free hand.
My stomach growls the moment the smell of spices and soy sauce hits my nose making me totally forget to ask about the garment bag that is now hanging on the hook behind my desk. Ever since I was a little girl I have loved Chinese food. My dad used to take me once a week to this little restaurant down the street from us and we would share a bowl of egg drop noodles and a large plate of ginger beef with fried rice. The place was nothing special to look at, it was a typical mom and pop place, but the food was amazing.
While digging in to my food and doing my best to use my chopsticks without ending up wearing most of my lunch, I pull out the file Charity left for me and nearly choke on a water cashew as I read the file name. Scott Enterprises.
I swear this man is going to be the death of me yet. I should have known Cherie would pull some shit like this on me. Sneaky bitch. On the bright side, at least the meeting is over Skype and not in person. Maybe if I am lucky I can conduct all our meetings this way. That would alleviate me from ever having to be in the same room with him, and keep me from doing something stupid, like licking a dimple or two. That man screws with my hormones in a bad way.
As much as I hate to admit it, but I am starting to think Sasha is right. I need to get laid. That has to be the reason why my body keeps betraying me. How can a man whore and arrogant ass like, Daemon, make my body come alive with just one look?
The last time I had sex was almost two months ago and it is a memory I would rather forget. His name was Kevin, and I met him at a local bar one night out with Tony. He was sweet, good looking and could carry on a conversation without talking about this mom, his last girlfriend, or his bro's. Compared to most men I meet in a bar, those are huge plusses, so after one too many drinks, I took him home with me.
My lady bits will never forgive me for that mistake. He was a total nightmare. He liked to talk dirty, which I would have found hot, if he didn't keep calling me his dirty slut and try to spank my breasts. The moment he told me he had been a naughty boy and asked me to spank him, we were done. I threw him out of my house in nothing but his tighty whities.
Finishing my lunch I clean off my desk and get ready for my meeting with Mr. Scott. Fishing out my mirror, I check to make sure I don't have any food left in my teeth, and take a moment to refresh my make-up, telling myself I am doing it for professional reasons and not because I care about what he thinks of me. Yeah, right.
While waiting out the ten minutes I have until I need to call Mr. Arrogant, I remember the garment bag behind my desk and quickly open it up and take a peek inside. Attached to a beautiful green silk shift dress is a note from Sasha.
Kelly:
Wear this tonight along with your gold open-toed high heels. We are all attending a Cancer Charity Ball tonight that my law firm sponsors each year. No backing out, it is for a good cause and there are a few men there I want to introduce you to!! Tony and I will pick you up at 8:00 tonight. Be ready!!
A Charity ball? Not exactly the type of place I expected us to end up at tonight, but knowing Sasha, I should thank my lucky stars that we
are going to a classy function and not some stripper joint or shady bar where I would no doubt spent most of the night being groped or fondled by some drunk.
Hearing my computer beep repeatedly, I quickly turn around, and curse myself for getting caught up in my personal life and forgetting all about my meeting. Taking a brief moment to grab the file on the edge of my desk, I straighten my shirt, take a deep breath and hit the connect button.
The moment his face comes onto the screen my stomach flips and my breath catches in my throat. He looks better than I remembered and the smirk on his face tells me he knows exactly what reaction my body is having towards him. No man should be allowed to be this arrogant and beautiful.
Ignoring the ache between my legs, I give him my no-nonsense professional smile and straighten my posture. I refuse to cave and drool over him like I am sure most the women do. I will not be that girl!
"Good evening, Mr. Scott," I say in a cool manner that shows none of the turmoil going on inside of me. "Cherie was not feeling well today, so I will be going over your contract with you instead. If you have any questions, please let me know and I will address them. Once we are finished, I will make any corrections needed and have Charity fax over the final contracts to be signed."
"Sounds fun," he answers with a smirk."I have already read over the contract and approve with all of it except for section three lines 1 and 2. Those need to be amended for me to sign on with you."
I could kick myself for once again being caught unprepared. I had every intention to read over the contract beforehand and instead I got caught up checking out the dress Sasha sent me. Opening the folder, I quickly flip through the pages until I come to the section and lines in question. I glance through them and turn my confused gaze back to his guarded one, not understanding why he would have a problem with this.
I read that section out-loud hoping it might shed some light on what the problem is. "If you have any questions or concerns pertaining to the project, please contact the head project manager during proper business hours." I glance back up at him nervous and not knowing what to expect. A sliver of panic slides through me at the thought that he might have changed his mind on me being head project manager. As much as I hate the idea of working with Daemon, this is a huge step for me, and could lead to more responsibility and larger clients in the future.
"What part of that line is a problem?" I ask hesitantly.
I search his face, but it is stoic and does not give off any indication of what he is thinking, unlike his eyes. The mischief gleaming in them is enough to make me squirm in my seat knowing whatever comes out of those succulent lips of his, won't be good. "I want to change that line to say that I can contact you anytime, day or night, if I have any issue or question."
As hard as I try to mask my emotions, I just can't help my slack jaw from hanging open and practically hitting the floor. We have not even started working together yet and he is already demanding that I be at his beck and call. He is crazy. I will be damned if I allow him to call me anytime he damn well pleases.
As my narrowed eyes, meet his smirking ones, an idea forms in my head. Ducking my head to hide my own smirk I counter back," I will agree to your change on one condition."
"Name it," he commands.
"I want to add that I can also contact you anytime, day or night, if I have a question or concern."
I can practically see the gears in his brain working, trying to figure out my motive. Lucky for me, he agrees without a fuss, and we move on to the next line 2 in that section. I read it out-loud again just like the first one. "Changes in the original plan can be approved and signed off on through fax, email, or currier."
I don't even ask this time, I just raise my eyebrows and wait for him to explain. Everything in this line is intended to keep communication flowing between both parties without wasting not only my time, but his also. What in the hell could bother him about that?
Stretching back in his high back leather chair, he fiddles with a few papers on his desk, completely ignoring me. I hate to be ignored and as hard as I try to keep my cool, it is quickly dissolving. I want nothing more than to reach into the screen and strangle him within an inch of his life. He is so infuriating, and yet at the same time, I can't keep my eyes off the way his shirt stretches taunt across his chest every time he moves, showing a hint of what I imagine to be the yummiest tight abs.
Feeling my body heat all over, I force my eyes back up to his. I am mortified to find him smiling back at me, no doubt enjoying catching me openly admiring him. Why do I keep embarrassing myself around him?
Blushing I try and steer us back to the topic at hand. My voice is a bit shaky as I ask, "Mr. Scott, could you please tell me what issues you have with the last line I read?"
"I prefer to have a 'hands on' approach to all projects that relate to me or my business. If there are any changes that need to be approved, I want them done in person, not through a third party or over a machine."
At the mention of him having 'a hands on' approach, my body instantly heats. My filthy brain imagines all sorts of lewd and dirty things those large hands of his could do to me. I wet my parched lips and do my best to control my raging hormones. I don't know what has gotten into me. I never act like a horny teenager and yet, here I am doing just that.
"Those rules are put in place to save you and me a lot of time," I reply, louder than necessary. "If you go out of town on business, and a change or problem arises, then I would have to halt everything until you return and can sign off on it. Do you really want to take that chance and push back your completion date?" Surely, he can see my reasoning.
I watch as Daemon leans back and shrugs. His stance is one of pure defiance. He is not offering an explanation and not backing down. Realization to the extent of what this job is going to cost me finally sets in. Daemon is playing hard ball, and although I am pretty sure I am out of my league, I accept his challenge.
If I have the balls to walk out of the only relationship I have ever known and start my life over with nothing but a few boxes of clothing, a microwave, and my trusty vibrator then I can sure as hell hold my own against this man.
"Fine," I concede without further augment. "I will have Charity amend the contract and send it over to you this afternoon to sign."You can sign this one thing without me present, can't you Mr. Scott?" I ask sarcastically. We stare each other down, daring the other to cave.
He gives a slow, easy smile that tugs at my nipples, causing them to harden and protrude against my thin blouse. "Yes Kelly, I think I can handle that," he snorts in amusement.
Not daring to give him more time to screw with my head, I abruptly and rudely end the call. I am sure I will pay for that later, but I need some major alone time right now. Placing my head in my hands I take several deep breaths and will my body to cool down and the ache in between my thighs to go away. No one has ever made my body react this way, and the fact that he can do it without even touching me, scares me.
If it was anyone else causing me to feel this way I would be ecstatic and begging them to take me now, but I can't give in to Daemon. Anyone, but Daemon Scott. I want a stable relationship, not a one night of bliss, only to be forgotten the next day. Just the thought of the many notches carved into his bed post makes me cringe. Man whore!
Deciding I need some me time and a few glasses of wine before my night out with friends, I finish up as much paperwork as possible and send Charity the changes to be made and sent over to Mr. Scott, before grabbing my things and heading home. Who knows, maybe tonight I will actually find the man of my dreams or at least one that will make me forget him.
Chapter 4
"Sasha, I need help with my hair. Please help!" I shout with frustration from the bathroom as I try for the millionth time to force my hair into some type of style while keeping my loose curls from frizzing up. I am afraid if I keep messing with it I will end up looking crazy and more like the hair from one of those crazy troll dolls I had when I was younger.
; Knocking my hands out of the way Sasha moves in behind me and works my hair up into a perfect chiffon, "I knew you could do it," I mutter giving her a quick hug before escaping back into my bedroom and retrieving my small clutch purse.
"You gorgeous bitches ready to go yet?" Tony yells impatiently from my living room. I start to respond to his flippant remark, but Sasha beats me too it. Hearing them nag at each other makes me giggle and helps to ease my anxiety over being subjected to their horrible match-making antics tonight. As long as I don't end up being left alone entertaining some pompous jackass throughout the night, then I will consider the night a success. Wow, my standards really have reached an all time low.
Hearing Tony yell my name again, I roll my eyes at his impatience. Checking my reflection in the mirror one last time I go and join my friends. Sasha did a great job on finding the perfect dress that not only compliments my fair complexion, but does amazing things for my eyes. I feel like a fairy princess on the way to the ball.
Turning off all the lights and locking the door, I follow my friends outside and into a beautiful silver limo that Sasha rented us for the night. "Were you planning to get so wasted that we needed a driver or were you worried about being crammed tightly together in my little car?" I ask jokingly.
"A bit of both," she says honestly. "My law firm got a great deal for all their employees from a new local limo company, and I thought why not. We deserve to live a little and have some fun."
"I think it was a brilliant idea," Tony adds. Of course he would think so; he is already opening cabinets and getting all the ingredients needed to make his special drink. We call it special, not only because it truly tastes sweet and goes down smooth, but because it only takes one to get a nice buzz flowing. Luckily, I ate a large dinner before everyone arrived, so I should be safe to enjoy myself tonight as long as I don't indulge too much.
Listening to my best friends bicker back and forth about which one looks better and what type of man they should find for me tonight, I lean my head against the cool glass of the car door and zone them both out. I love them more than anything, but at times they can be too much to handle all at once.