by Cari Quinn
“Having fun?” he asked pleasantly, forcing the grimace just aching to form on his face to stay hidden. “Just because you like them young enough to need help getting on a condom doesn’t mean youth is better. Maybe Kelly appreciates experience.”
“Could be. Then again, fringe benefits always sweeten the pot.” Marcia trailed a fingertip over the thin gold chain she wore around her neck. “Sex as a business strategy certainly worked for you.”
Spencer took a breath, let it out slow and easy. She, of all people, had to understand how that barb hit home. She didn’t know everything, but she knew enough. “You’re never going to forget that, are you?”
“Forget what? That you strolled in here after I’d been an employee for several years and cruised right past me to the top? And it wasn’t because you were always on top either.”
He stared at his sister and tried to remind himself she’d been hurt by what happened, even if things hadn’t occurred quite like she’d said. “It was years ago, Marsh. Diana’s gone. I’ve proven I’m the right person to lead these stores.”
She tapped her nails on her bare thigh, holding his stare. Then she jerked a shoulder. “I was never into business the way you are. This is a job for me. A job I enjoy, but a job.”
It was as close to agreement as he’d get. And he’d take it. The last thing he wanted to do was remember a summer almost as hot as this one. Five years ago already. He didn’t have any desire to remember what had happened then any more than he wanted to think about why getting involved with Kelly now was such a bad idea.
He just wanted to work. His salvation and his destruction all in one.
“I must admit I understand where Di was coming from. Younger guys have something older men never will.”
“A fake ID?”
She rolled her eyes. “I don’t go that young. Jeez. I meant stamina.”
“Trust me, some of us still have stamina past thirty. Just because David didn’t know his dick from a hole in the ground doesn’t mean every man with chest hair doesn’t.”
“We’re not talking about my ex-husband. We’re talking about you and why you’re all conflicted about boning Kelly. A bit too much déjà vu for you, huh? Except now she’s the young one with starry eyes.”
“A minute ago, you were encouraging me to fuck and duck.” He shook his head at her oft-used expression. “Now you’re implying she wants your job, even though it won’t be yours very soon. Has to be your job she wants, or as part of some game. Couldn’t be because we have—”
What? Chemistry? They didn’t, not really. Clashing opinions didn’t necessarily mean they’d be well-matched in bed. He’d done his best to keep things as cool between them as humanly possible. He hadn’t wanted to fuel his own fire any more than necessary. But videos of her on his loveseat and lists of men to fuck took things to a whole new realm.
Hell, why was he arguing Marcia’s point? Believing Kelly was as ambitious as he’d been—and possibly as willing to do whatever it took to get ahead—was easier than considering there was anything else to their attraction.
His gaze returned to the loveseat but he didn’t see Marcia. He saw Kelly as she’d looked an hour ago, her tawny hair curved around her high cheekbones, flirting with her whiskey-colored eyes. Her mouth had looked soft and raw, as if she’d licked off all her lipstick. Though she didn’t dress as suggestively as his continually on-the-make sister, her shirt had been a bit too tight around her breasts.
Perfect handful breasts. Breasts he could imagine biting and sucking until she wrapped those long, long legs around his hips and drew his cock deep inside her pussy.
Marcia let out a short laugh. “Any woman who keeps a running tally of men she wants to sleep with probably isn’t long-term material, Spence. Your standards aren’t always particularly high but even you don’t stoop that low. Though you stoop low enough.”
“I’m really not in the mood for your lectures on morality.” He shuffled through folders but didn’t open any, hoping she’d take the hint and split. Calling her into his office to question her had been a colossal waste of time. She either didn’t know anything or she refused to clue him in, which amounted to the same thing.
“No? What are you in the mood for then, boss? Thought you’d be in better spirits to know how utterly fuckable you are.”
Spencer stuffed the files in the top drawer of his desk, deliberately covering the small purple PDA that had turned his afternoon to shit. Then he slammed the drawer shut and rose, grabbing his jacket off the back of the chair. If Marcia wouldn’t leave, he would. And he knew just where to go.
He limited his trips to the club because he knew greater exposure meant more chances he’d run into someone he knew. Last thing he wanted to do was to advertise his need to watch people getting off. A need Kelly had unintentionally fed. But if he didn’t let off some steam soon, he was going to implode.
“I’ll see you later.” He shut the door behind him before Marcia could so much as sputter.
He had a hell of a lot of energy to burn off, some physical, a lot sexual. He’d put in a couple hours on the machines at the gym, see if any of the guys were up for a game of racquetball. Then he’d head to Kink and get the rest of his kinks out.
Best of all, Kelly Crossman wouldn’t be anywhere in sight.
* * * * *
“You’re not really wearing that, are you?”
Kelly glanced down at her black skintight capris and equally snug hot-pink baby tee. She wiped the back of her neck, already dripping with sweat. It was past 9 p.m. and the heat index had yet to dip below eighty. Welcome to May in Ely, Maryland. The A/C in her apartment was unreliable at best, so she’d probably be up all night long, tossing and turning in her sweaty sheets. And this time it wouldn’t just be from sexual frustration aimed at her boss, Mr. Tall, Blond and Buttoned-Up.
She had a bigger problem. A gigantic, wished-the-earth-would-swallow-her-up dilemma.
Her PDA was missing.
She’d discovered it just before Alana stopped by. She’d checked her pockets and every nook and cranny of her purse, even knowing a PDA couldn’t shrink to the size of a paperclip. But she’d needed to be sure. Then she’d dug through her car. Still nothing. A phone call to work and a couple vague questions also hadn’t done any good.
The damn thing had disappeared.
Alana didn’t seem to get why Kelly was so freaked out, though she knew all about the list. According to Alana, no one would look through her files and even if she’d lost it at work as she feared, someone would return it in no time.
But Kelly knew the truth. All her best friend cared about was getting to the frigging club.
“Uh, yeah. I’m wearing this.” Kelly crossed her arms over her chest. “Why?”
With a harrumph, Alana turned back to Kelly’s closet and started shoving aside hangers.
“What are you doing?”
“Finding you Kink clothes. Jesus, Kel, you’re not going to grab a bite at the Double Burger. You’re going to a club.”
She looked down at herself again. “I’ve gone clubbing in stuff like this before. I’m going to keep you company, not to score. And wait a second. Did you say Kink clothes?”
“Yeah. Kink’s the club we’re going to.” Alana shook back her ink-black curls and tipped her head to examine the dress she’d unearthed. “Now this works.”
Kelly propped her hands on her hips. She’d only worn the simple gold halter-top once because it was a size too small, particularly up top. But the one and only time she’d worn it, she’d gotten really lucky with the fifth guy on her list, so she’d kept it for old times’ sake. “Kink’s a sex club, isn’t it?”
“It’s whatever you want it to be, really. It’s sectioned into three parts—vanilla, Neapolitan and chocolate cherry with nuts. The flavor you choose is up to you.”
“I’ve heard stories but I’ve never been.” Kelly frowned. “Leave it to you to show up in town a couple weeks a year and hit that place up first thing.”<
br />
“Honey, you play at being bad and I’m the real deal.” Alana gave her a wolfish grin. “I’m a Neapolitan girl, by the way.”
“Which is?” she asked, trying like hell to keep her mind off her PDA. Worrying about it all night long wouldn’t make it appear in her purse.
“It’s better seen than described. Kink’s not a BDSM club or anything like that, though I’m sure some of the people who go there are into the lifestyle. They do have a room that caters to that but it’s not really my scene. Kink’s more about the freedom to be yourself. However you want to be, with whoever watching.”
Kelly sat on the end of her bed and stared at her reflection in the mirror over her dresser. She wasn’t some neophyte sexually. She’d come a long way from her wallflower days in high school, and a lot of that was because of the confidence her sex list had given her. She’d taken control of her sex life in college, just as she’d regulated her diet and exercise to yield the best body she could. Maybe she’d never be a centerfold model or, egads, cute, but she made the most of what she had to work with.
Some guys found her attractive now. Even if keeping the list had become predictable and tedious, she stayed the course. Because that was what she did. Thanks to having unreliable parents who’d missed school events, ignored holidays and greeted birthdays with barely a hug, she’d fought to create her own family of friends and work. Anything to combat the loneliness she’d never fully been able to shake.
Much as she hated to acknowledge it, she missed her parents. Even now, her mom and dad were strumming guitars by a campfire in Sedona rather than returning home to celebrate their only child’s upcoming twenty-sixth birthday, despite her admission that she wished they’d come for a visit. So much for that.
She’d learned to make her own routines. And to cling to them. Routines meant safety. Familiarity. Boredom.
Hooking up with Spencer would definitely change things up. But the chances of it actually happening were pretty much nonexistent.
Even if he wasn’t sleeping with Leigh, that didn’t mean he was available. He’d spelled it out to her, hadn’t he? He was married to the store. And he didn’t mention that he was in the market for a mistress.
She needed, one way or another, to break her obsession with him. But Kink? How could any man she met there help her on her quest to get more out of life than work? A Kink guy couldn’t be long-term material. Hell, he probably wouldn’t even last until the weekend.
Maybe not even until the parking lot.
“I’m not sure, Lan. I’ve got work tomorrow. Early. And—”
“And you have your methodical little system going and you refuse to deviate from it. I know. Just come and scope things out. There’s a regular dance club in the vanilla section. You can hang out there if you’re not into the rest.”
“Yeah, and it’ll be super fun to hang there alone while you’re having group sex in the lounge.”
Alana wiggled her brows. “Oh, so you’ve heard of the lounge? How about the steam room?”
“I’ve heard stories,” she repeated.
“So why don’t you stop listening to talk and start checking it out for yourself?”
Kelly swallowed hard and reclined on her elbows. Maybe Alana was right. Despite her list, she really wasn’t a bad girl at heart. Truthfully the whole thing was becoming more trouble than it was worth. She hadn’t ticked off the last few guys she’d listed, and except for one of them, she didn’t even care.
She sighed. There it was again. That niggle for a boyfriend, for something real that didn’t begin with a name and a ranking. Next thing she knew her biological clock would start ticking and she’d be really screwed.
Nah, it was probably just an itch. Maybe even birthday-related. Birthdays tended to mess with people’s heads.
Her life was fine as it was. She had a nice one-bedroom apartment with a big bathroom and charming little kitchenette, complete with lots of bookshelves and plants. The space was hers and she loved it. She didn’t need to share that space with anyone to feel complete. And she didn’t mind when her occasional lovers hit the road with an “I’ll call” that never amounted to anything.
That was what she wanted.
Casual sex had always been enough for her before. She’d been discriminating about her lovers and made sure she liked them well enough in and out of bed. Her plan had worked perfectly for years.
But it had been months since she’d slept with anyone. She was sick of waiting and just as sick of wanting Spencer and knowing it could never happen. Not if she wanted to advance at her job without dealing with all sorts of gossip and innuendoes. Though Tony worked under Marcia and no one made an issue out of it. Of course, guys always seemed to operate under their own set of rules.
And that was even assuming Spencer was the least bit interested in her. Other than those blink-and-it’s-over glances at her breasts in his office, she’d never gotten a single vibe that he’d even noticed she was female.
Then again, her list had disappeared. Could this be a sign the time had come to step outside her comfort zone?
“I thought Kink had been closed down,” she said. Alana was staring at her, clearly waiting for an answer.
“Yeah, they have been. Several times. They wait a few months, try out a new location and shift things around.”
“How do they manage that? Wouldn’t that cost a lot of money?”
“The owners are loaded. Supposedly they’re ultra-kinky and the hubby came up with the club idea to please his wife. She gets off on watching people do each other, I guess.” Alana shrugged. “Who knows. That could be some urban legend. No one’s ever really investigated it, far as I know.”
Kelly gripped the cat’s-eye amulet dangling between her breasts, unable to come up with a response. Was she being silly? Should she just go with Alana and see where the night led?
“It’s not nearly as blatant as I made it sound,” Alana added. “The people who go there are normal. Really. They’re just like you and me, with a few more quirks.”
Kelly let out a laugh. “Not sure I’m that kind of normal.”
“You’re just repressed is all.”
Kelly fingered her necklace. “I don’t know, Lan. Maybe I’m getting too old for this stuff. According to you, I should be excited about going to Kink. And I’m not.”
The only prospect that excited her anymore was wrapping herself in the comforting familiarity of The Book Nook. And seeing Spencer, even though most of the time he was so uptight she wondered what she possibly saw in him.
Alana plopped down next to her on the bed. “How about this? We’ll pour you into this dress and go play for an hour. If you’re not feeling it, we’ll leave.”
“The last time you said that I had to catch a ride home with Freddy Fingers, the guy with the hairy knuckles that kept finding their way into my bra.”
“That won’t happen tonight. Promise. I won’t abandon you for sex—group or otherwise.” Alana’s eyes sparkled. “Heck, you might even like it and want to stay.”
“Don’t think so. Besides, I have to be up at—”
“Five a.m. for work. Yeah, yeah, I know your spiel. C’mon then. Let’s get you out of those granny clothes.” Alana bounced to her feet, still clutching the dress. She turned back, lips pursed. “Oh, and seriously, Kel? Skip the underwear. Easier access.”
* * * * *
Two games of racquetball, a long cold shower and a quick dinner of Chinese takeout later, Spencer headed to Kink. He kept a change of clothes in his locker at the gym, though he rarely skipped a trip home to get dressed. Wrinkled khakis and a gray T-shirt wasn’t exactly his outfit of choice but he didn’t have the patience to make the twenty-minute drive to his apartment.
His needs hadn’t been entirely sated by the hard bout of exercise, but it had taken the edge off. Time to move to phase two.
It was already pushing 9 p.m. and he had to be up at the crack of dawn tomorrow. Not only was there all of today’s work he hadn’t finished, name
ly the stacks of P&Ls he had to evaluate and the dozen phone calls and emails he needed to return, but the first order of business would be talking to his staff.All of his staff. Everyone needed a reminder that The Book Nook was a business. He had no intention of tolerating anything that diluted anyone’s focus on the job at hand.
Including his own.
He hadn’t yet figured out how he would handle Kelly, since she technically hadn’t done anything wrong other than exercising her sharp tongue. Even that hadn’t been much of an infraction. She was certainly allowed to pursue recreational activities outside work. He hadn’t gotten a single report that she wasn’t doing her job. Even Marcia had admitted grudgingly that she’d never seen anyone more committed to The Book Nook, other than him.
It wasn’t as if he could write her up for having the gall to rank him dead last on her stupid list. He almost wished he could.
Spencer blew out a breath as he considered the small purple contraption lodged in the bottom of his briefcase, currently stationed in the trunk of his Acura. Somehow he’d have to keep his cool when he returned the damn thing. She’d know he saw her list and she’d probably be embarrassed, humiliated even. He didn’t want her to feel bad—okay, yeah he did, but only because she had such lousy taste in other men—and he also didn’t want her to freak out when she discovered the PDA was missing. Even so, the conversation between them would have to wait.
Right now the only screwing he had in mind didn’t involve lists. Or Kelly. Whomever he met up with at Kink was going to reap the benefits of how much he wanted to drum Kelly right the fuck out of his head.
The club was situated on the outskirts of Ely, or at least this incarnation of it was. Kink had been shut down more than once so people had gotten smarter about bragging about their exploits. The place wasn’t only about sex, despite its reputation. Some people only went there to dance or take advantage of the on-site massage services. Legit massage services too, unless the client had a “special need.”
He’d never partaken of the massages or the BDSM room with its spanking bench and numerous contraptions on the wall that doubled as erotic art when the owners were questioned by the police. Not his thing. His particular kink was watching and between the lounge, with its soft couches and mood lighting, and the steam room, there were plenty of opportunities to indulge.