“Araneae, you’re so fucking perfect.”
I took a step closer and pushed his suit coat from his shoulders. As my pulse surged faster and without a word, I did what I’d once told him I wouldn’t do. Dropping to my knees, I reached up to his belt and undid the buckle. A threading of the button out of its secure place and his erection was already tenting his slacks.
Sterling reached for my chin and pulled my gaze to his. “You’re gorgeous on your knees.”
“I want to do this.”
His chest heaved with heavy breaths as he ripped open the front of his shirt and buttons littered the floor, allowing me the view of his toned torso. Dark hair trailed from his belly button to below his trousers. Lowering the zipper, I freed his hard, angry cock. The tip glistened as veins bulged to the surface.
“Suck me.”
It had been my plan, but hearing the words that rumbled through me, deep and demanding, heightened my desire.
Opening my mouth, I held on to his steel rod, the surface velvety under my grasp as I lapped the moisture from the tip, its salty taste like nothing I could describe.
This wasn’t my first rodeo, yet everything with Sterling Sparrow was unique.
At first slowly, I took him in, my hands servicing what my mouth couldn’t handle.
“Fuck yeah,” Sterling said as his hands came to my hair. “More, you can do it.”
He was guiding but not overpowering me, allowing me to take this at my own speed. Pushing up on my toes, I did as he said, taking more of him from a better angle. The deeper he went, the more my senses filled with everything Sterling Sparrow. The aroma of musk and the coarseness of his hair both combined with the tightening of his balls below my chin.
The room filled with our sounds, primal and raw. A quick glance upward and I was greeted with the vision of his handsome features, contorted as he was lost in what I was doing.
Though I was the one on my knees, there was power in my position.
Sterling Sparrow was somehow in control of Chicago. His name had clout, his word authority, and yet in this moment, the man before me was completely under my spell.
My jaw ached, but I wouldn’t stop. The room filled with the loud pop as I came all the way off and immediately went back down, rolling his tight balls between my fingers. His stance widened as his hips began to rock.
Reaching for his firm ass, I held on, refusing to leave him unsatisfied.
“Fucking...goddamn...Araneae...”
I moaned as his cock throbbed and warm liquid filled my mouth, spilling down my throat. Swallow after swallow I drank, as Sterling cradled my head against him. When I was finally content that he was satisfied, I eased off and peered upward.
The stare looking down at me was one of wonderment and adoration.
Sterling reached for my hand and helped me stand. Though he’d been the one to come, my knees were weak as I leaned against his broad chest and his strong arms surrounded me. “Our date is officially over,” he said.
“It is? Well, it was a pretty nice date.”
Sterling lifted my chin. “After what just happened, I don’t want to break your rules, but sunshine, you’re getting fucked.”
I squealed as he lifted me from the ground, my legs covered in the stockings and high heels going over one arm as he cradled and carried me toward the bed.
“Then,” I said after a kiss to his cheek. “I’m glad the date is over.”
“Not as glad as you’ll be in a bit.”
“Kind of cocky, aren’t you?”
“I’m about to remind you.”
Araneae
I was almost giddy with anticipation as Jana and I prepared the second, smaller office for Winnie. With Patrick’s help it was all set up, including the computer equipment connected to our Sinful Threads network.
“I’m excited to meet her in person,” Jana said.
My cheeks rose. “Winnie’s been with Louisa and me for over three years. She was our third assistant. There was something about the ones before her that didn’t really click.” I smiled at the memory. “I remember when Winnie walked in. You’ve seen her on video, but she’s like five feet, three inches and one hundred and ten pounds dripping wet of kick-ass woman.” I had a flash of Josey Marsh. I used to say my mom was a pit bull in a toy poodle body. Winnie could also fit that description. “She’s a straight shooter,” I went on, “not afraid to voice her opinion or objection. She’s from Colorado but apparently has a friend here she’s excited to reconnect with.”
“On the phone and video chats she’s been great.”
“Yeah, Sinful Threads has been successful because we all work as a team. There’s no competition. Everyone’s job is secure as long as each individual does it. We all want to help one another.”
Jana turned my way. “I know I’ve barely been here a week, but I don’t feel like I’ve properly thanked you. This is one of the best opportunities of my life. My son, Bailey, is ecstatic to have me home every night.” Her cheeks pinkened. “And my husband is happy too.”
“I’m glad it’s working out.”
Part of me wanted to pry more into what Sterling had done to make Jana such a devoted employee, but I’d decided that she’d share if and when she was ready. Simple math told me that when Sterling hired her, she was only nineteen and her son would have been four. Patrick said she was employed before Sparrow Enterprises, but he hadn’t elaborated greater.
Knocking on the doorframe, Patrick entered the office that would be Winnie’s—or Louisa’s if she ever came to Chicago for any length of time. With a glance to his phone, he said, “Winifred’s plane has landed.”
As I turned his way, my gaze narrowed. “Tell me she didn’t fly on Sterling’s plane.”
How in the world would I explain that?
“No, Ms. Hawkins, she flew commercial, the flight that she booked herself. She did hire a car service.”
“It can’t be the same one she hired for me because you’re here.”
Patrick’s smile quirked. “In a way it’s the same one, different driver.”
I shook my head.
“Important to you. Important to...” He let the final word go unsaid.
Jana’s eyes were wide as she followed our conversation.
“Jana,” I said, “it’s better if Winnie thinks she has some random car service. I couldn’t even begin to explain to her the intricacies of Mr. Sparrow. Sometimes I’m not certain how to explain them to me.”
Memories of our first date warmed my skin.
Jana nodded.
Patrick had been right about Jana. It helped having someone close who could see both of my worlds and help me keep them separate.
In the late morning, as I was talking on the telephone with the manager from the distribution center in New York, I heard the commotion in the front office. Immediately, I recognized her voice.
“Jana,” I heard Winnie exclaim. “It’s good to finally meet you.”
“Robert,” I said into the telephone, “I’m going to need to call you back about those numbers. Something’s come up.”
“Sure thing, Ms. Hawkins. I have things that need to get done too.”
I looked at the clock in the corner of my screen. “Will two o’clock work for a callback?”
“I’ll be here.”
“Thank you, Robert.”
As I began to hang the phone receiver on its cradle, there was a knock on my mostly closed door. Hurrying around my desk, I pulled it open. Winnie’s bright blue eyes shone. Her auburn hair was shorter than before, cut just above her shoulders and tapering even shorter in the back. I’d always thought of her hair as red, but compared to Lorna’s which was bright strawberry red, Winnie’s had more vibrant shades of auburn and brown.
Other than her haircut, she was exactly the same.
“Hi!” we both squealed in unison as we hugged.
“I feel like it’s been forever,” I said, fluffing her hair. “I love the cut.”
“Thanks. I was
ready for something new. I know it’s only been around two and a half weeks, but it does seem like it’s been forever.” She looked around. “Goodness, Kennedy, you weren’t kidding. This place is great.”
“Come in and look at my lovely view of buildings and rooftops.”
As we stood at the window, Winnie spoke low. “Louisa and I have been worried about you.”
“You have? Why?”
“This is all so...out of character.” Before I could respond, she went on, “But now, seeing you...I can’t describe it. Kenni, you look different, in a really good way. I think Jason and I were right to encourage Louisa to go along with this change. Whatever you’re doing looks fantastic on you.” She eyed me up and down. “And damn, even your clothes. You’re really stepping up the fashion.”
I looked down at the sleeveless blue and black wool-blend sheath dress I was currently wearing. Suddenly self-conscious, I wondered if instead of Sterling’s provided wardrobe that I should have worn something that I’d brought from Boulder. I ran my hands over my exposed arms. The bruise on my right arm was mostly faded, yet now that also had me uneasy.
Turning toward my desk, I eyed the light sweater on the back of my chair.
How odd would it look to put it on right now?
“Not that you didn’t know fashion before,” Winnie continued, paying more attention to my clothes than my arm. “It is what you do. I just mean...” She stared down toward the floor. “...are those shoes Louboutin?”
“They’re closed-toed, you know, in case I need to visit a warehouse.”
Winnie leaned closer. “You’re not skimming from Sinful Threads, are you?”
“What? No.”
“Sugar daddy?”
“Winnie,” I said, “your and Louisa’s imaginations go wild sometimes.” I gave her another squeeze. “I’ve missed you.”
“Hey,” she continued her whisper, “who’s the handsome yet kind of scary Hulk-like guy in the designer suit in the other room?”
Was Patrick handsome? Was he scary?
Maybe he was. Even with his short blond hair and light blue eyes, there was something reassuring about him that others might see as intimidating. The aura he gave off didn’t come only from his sometimes-unapproachable appearance, but also from his presence and actions.
It was something that he, Sterling, and Reid had in common—confidence and fortitude. Other than the one time when Patrick had taken me to Sterling—which I now realized was beyond his control—he’d never ceased to put my safety first.
“His name is Patrick Kelly. He’s my driver and...” I shrugged. “...kind of assistant. He’s been very helpful. I don’t know if you remember, but initially you hired him.”
“And you are still using him? Why? You sent for your car. I’d assume you’d be driving yourself. Are you still worried about whatever that was your mom told you about regarding returning to Chicago—that old wives’ tale you never really filled us in about?” She eyed me questionably. “If you are, why are you here?”
Jeez, this was more difficult than I realized.
“The driving company made me a great deal,” I said in my most carefree voice, “and I’ve learned that I hate Chicago traffic—they’re as crazy here as in New York. And when I’m driven, I can work during my commute.”
Winnie’s head shook. “Okay, fine. Show me around this joint. Then let’s get to work and sell some freakin’ fantastic silken fashions. It looks like we need to support your new lavish lifestyle.”
I laid my hand on her arm. “I promise, Sinful Threads is not doing that.”
Her eyebrows danced. “Then the only other option is a sugar daddy. Does he have a friend?”
Forcing a laugh, I looped my arm through hers. “Let me show you around.”
Throughout the day, the sound of Jana and Winnie chatting filled me with both excitement and anxiety. I was thrilled to have my friend with me in Chicago but also a bit nervous. Winnie’s questions were grating on me. I wanted to be honest with her and Louisa, yet there were some things that couldn’t be said.
Around three o’clock, Patrick stuck his head into my office. “Ms. Hawkins?”
I looked up with a grin. “That’s me, right?”
“Yes, ma’am, right now it is. May I come in?”
I nodded and leaned back in my chair. After Patrick closed the door, he sat in one of the chairs opposite me. “Jana is good.”
“Okay, thank you. Tell me why you felt the need to come in here and say that.”
His broad shoulder shrugged. “You’re worried. I could tell at lunch, and throughout the day it’s getting worse.”
I let out a sigh. “Is it that obvious?”
Patrick shook his head. “No, it isn’t. Not to others. To me—yes. I read people. It’s part of what I do; it’s how I learn things. There are simple tells. At lunch, you tapped your foot under the table and bobbed your knee—which you don’t usually do. You keep wrapping your arms around yourself, yet you’re wearing that sweater, so there’s no way you’re cold. When Winifred asks questions, you bite your lip.”
I stood from my chair and paced a small trek behind my desk. “You were right...about the two worlds. I never realized how difficult this would be.” My arm went toward the door. “And the two of them have been talking all day. What if Jana slips up?”
“I’m less worried about Jana than I am you.”
My feet stilled as my eyes grew wide. “Me? Why me?”
“Jana has been in our employ for six years. She was in our world even before that. Discretion is essential. It’s how we survive. She wouldn’t still be here—she wouldn’t be with you—if she didn’t understand that implicitly. I also know that you get it, but it’s new to you. I’m confident Sparrow has mentioned it.”
I cocked my head to the side. “You think?”
Yes, that came out bitchier than I intended.
Patrick lowered his voice. “Araneae, when you’re here, when you’re around people for Sinful Threads, be Kennedy Hawkins.”
“I can when I’m talking in person to Franco, Vanessa, or Ricardo. It’s easier on the phone, even with Winnie and Louisa. I can pretend that nothing has changed. This is different. Winnie knows me.” I emphasized the word.
“Show her the woman she knows.”
I placed my hands on my desk and leaned forward. Tears prickled the back of my eyes. “I’m not sure I know who she is anymore.”
He took a deep breath. “May I make a suggestion?”
“My company,” I reminded him.
“Noted. Did I hear Jana and Winifred—?”
I raised my hand. “Now that she’s here, I’m warning you. If you call her that name to her face, she’s going to rip you a new one. It’s her name, but she very much prefers Winnie.”
Patrick’s grin grew. “I’ll keep that in mind. As I was saying, I heard Jana and Winnie discuss a new silk shipment arriving today. Perhaps you—the cofounder of Sinful Threads—would like to go to the Port of Chicago?”
“To get away from here?”
“Start again fresh tomorrow.”
I let out a long sigh. “That feels like running away.”
“No, it’s doing what you do. It’s emphasizing one of the reasons you’ve relocated to Chicago.”
“But it’s her first day and night. I feel like I should ask her to dinner or do something with her after work.”
His eyes narrowed.
“I know,” I said, shaking my head, “I can’t.”
“No, you can’t. No one comes into the apartment without Sparrow’s approval. I know she’s your friend, and you’ve known her for a while. That doesn’t give her a pass. Very few people ever receive that pass.”
“Genevieve Sparrow does.”
“She’s Sparrow’s mother, and I’m relatively certain he’d revoke the pass if he could.”
“Dinner and/or drinks,” I said again, “somewhere around here?”
“Will that make you more comfortable?” Patrick asked.
“What might you say over a glass of wine?”
I collapsed back into my chair. “I feel trapped.”
“I can’t comment on the way you feel. I can say that Sparrow is doing everything he can to keep you safe while at the same time granting you as much freedom as possible. I’m certain you realize that there’s a part of him who would be content to keep you in the apartment twenty-four seven.”
“So I’ve been granted a leash or a tether?” I asked.
“Ms. McCrie...”
I sighed, holding tightly to the armrests of my chair and refusing to cross my arms over my chest and pout though it was what I wanted to do.
“We could go straight to the apartment,” Patrick offered, “if you’d rather. Araneae, the choice is yours, not his.”
I shook my head. “Take me to the port. I need to get out of here. I also need to tell Winnie something about tonight.”
“I’m sure you’ll come up with a plausible excuse.”
Retrieving my purse from a desk drawer, I handed Patrick my satchel. When he opened the door, Jana and Winnie turned our way.
“Ladies, it’s great hearing the two of you working together.” I forced a smile. “This is going to work better than I imagined. I’ll be back in the morning. Patrick and I are headed to the Port of Chicago to check on our silk shipment.”
“Is there a problem?” Winnie asked.
“That’s what we’re going to find out,” Patrick responded.
Her face tilted up, searching him as if wheels were turning in her head. “Why do I get the feeling you’re more than a driver?”
“Winnie.”
“Because I am, Ms. Douglas,” Patrick responded. “I have experience as well as education in merchandising and finance. I understand distribution channels and exploiting the most profitable means. Ms. Hawkins has been kind enough to allow me to utilize that knowledge and help her navigate the city at the same time.”
Winnie’s arms crossed over her chest. “Well, damn. You are more than a pretty face connected to a rock-hard body.”
Holy shit.
We needed to get out of here.
“I’m sorry,” Winnie continued. “Louisa has me making up all kinds of stories on why Kennedy made this move.” She turned my way. “She really does have an active imagination.”
Lies Page 18