by C. C. Wood
“I don’t care whose fault it was, I don’t want a repeat,” Chris said, interrupting my thoughts.
I scowled at him. “Fine, but I will make your life hell if you have an accident.”
He smiled slightly. “Understood.”
The ride was silent for a few minutes. There was something I needed to discuss with him and a long car ride was the perfect time. He couldn’t escape or ignore me if he was trapped in a confined space with me.
“Chris, you need to place a job posting for my position by the end of the week. It will take a week or so to interview the applicants and then another week to two to train my replacement. My last day will be here before you know it.”
His knuckles turned white as he gripped the steering wheel harder, but he didn’t respond.
“Would you prefer I place the ad?” I asked.
“No,” he answered abruptly, “I would prefer not to replace you at all.”
I sighed. “You don’t have a choice in this. I finally have an opportunity to pursue my dreams and I’m not passing it up.”
“Fine. I will write up the ad tomorrow and you can post it wherever you see fit.”
He didn’t speak again for the entire ride home. Instead he turned on the radio and the strains of classical music filled the car. After a few attempts to make small talk, I gave up and leaned my seat back to catch up on my sleep. I drifted off to the sound of Mozart.
It seemed like only minutes later that a firm hand was on my leg, shaking me gently.
“Lucy, you need to wake up. You’re home.”
I sighed and tried to turn away from the voice, though the hand on my knee felt nice.
“Lucy, wake up.”
I groaned and lifted my eyelids. It was dark out and I was definitely not in my own comfy bed. I turned my head and saw Chris crouched in the open door of his Mercedes, his hand on my leg. I pressed my fingertips into my eyes, trying to re-engage my brain.
“I’m awake. Give me a second,” I murmured.
I unbuckled my seat belt and squeaked as Chris reached into the car and hauled me out. I leaned heavily into him, still unsteady on my feet.
I managed to get my legs back under me and tried to pull away. “I’m okay. Just a little groggy.”
Chris smiled. I blinked at him sleepily. Wow, he was even prettier when he smiled like he meant it rather than the mocking smirk he typically wore. “You’re practically a zombie. I’ll help you up to your apartment.”
He wrapped an arm around my waist, his hand low on my hip again. It seemed he liked to hold me that way. I shook my head at the thought. Chris didn’t hold me. He’d only begun to touch me in a familiar way last Friday.
We made it up the stairs and down the hall to my front door. I pulled my keys out of my bag and promptly dropped them with a clatter.
Before I could stoop down to grab them, Chris’ hand was there, scooping them up. He opened the door and followed me inside. Without thinking, I dropped my bag on the table near my front door, ready to strip off my work clothes. I enjoyed dressing up, but once I was home for the day, yoga pants and stretchy tanks were my preferred attire.
I heard the door shut and glanced back to see that Chris had come in behind me. As I turned toward him, he crowded close, his hands circling my waist, and he walked me backward into the living room.
I tilted my head back to ask him what the hell he thought he was doing when his lips grazed mine. Unlike the furious passion he’d unleashed last night, this kiss was light, sweet, and searching. When his tongue slid across my lower lip, I opened my mouth for him. I leaned against him, pressing my hands to his chest, digging my fingers into the firm curves of his pectorals.
I had no idea what I was doing. He annoyed me to no end the last three years and, though I could see that he was attractive, I didn’t know what to think of this sudden chemistry between us. He was my boss, Christopher James Barden the Third, anal retentive and aloof, not this fiercely passionate man with rough hands and incredibly soft lips. I wasn’t supposed to react to him this way.
My skin began to heat. He pulled me closer until our bodies were practically fused together from shoulder to thigh. I felt as though my blood were about to boil, running furiously through my veins as his mouth attacked mine, tongue thrusting and teeth nipping. I forgot all about my doubts and fears as the kiss burned straight through me.
His hand moved from my waist, down my hip, to the outside of my thigh. I felt his fingers grip the heavy knit of my dress, slowly bunching it and causing the hem to rise an inch at a time. When his fingertips brushed my bare thigh, he made a noise low in his throat. Then his hot, callused palm cupped my leg right above the band of my thigh high. I felt the muscles between my legs quiver. I had never noticed before how large and rough his hands were.
His other hand reached for the hem of my dress, tugging it upward until I was exposed from the waist down. Chris shoved a hand into the back of my panties, cupping my ass. I trembled against him. I hooked my hands on the lapels of his jacket, preparing to shove it off his shoulders when I heard someone banging on a door out in the hall.
Since it sounded as though it were coming from next door, I ignored it and instead used Chris’ jacket to yank him closer. The knocking continued relentlessly and it was definitely starting to kill the mood. It wasn’t until the yelling started that I realized that the asswipe was beating on my damn door.
“Lucy love! Open the door, darlin’. I have some exciting news for you!”
I pulled my lips away from Chris’ and tilted my head down so my forehead rested on his chest. Shit. It was Marcus.
The door shook under the force of his fist. With a sigh, I pulled out of Chris’ arms, shimmying to straighten my skirt as I walked toward the door. I jerked the door open mid-bang.
“Marcus…” I began.
He didn’t let me finish as he pushed past me into my apartment. “Darlin’, what took you so damn long?” He held a bottle of scotch in one hand and red wine in the other. “I brought you wine since you’re too much of a wimp to drink scotch.” He stopped short just inside the door. “And it looks like I’m interrupting something.”
I turned and saw that Chris was staring at Marcus, his jaw tight. His hands were fisted at his sides and his body was rigid.
“Um, Marcus, maybe now isn’t the best….”
Chris interrupted me. “No, it’s fine, I was just leaving.”
Marcus looked between the two of us, catching on quickly to what had been going on. “Okay, well, I’m going to head into the kitchen to open this bottle of wine.” He walked up to Chris, his hand extended. “Nice to see you again.”
I watched as they shook hands but without the pissing contest, thank God. Chris turned his back to Marcus and walked toward me.
“Can I speak to you outside for a moment?” he asked.
I nodded and glanced at Marcus as I followed Chris out the door. The jerk had the nerve to waggle his eyebrows at me. I narrowed my eyes and shook my head, discreetly flipping him off.
As I came through the door, Chris pulled me into his arms and kissed me again. My eyes had practically rolled back into my head by the time he was done.
When he lifted his head, he asked, “Are you involved with Flynn?”
I crinkled my brows in confusion. “What?”
“Are you seeing Marcus?”
I shook my head. “I don’t understand.”
“Are you fucking him?” Chris snapped.
“That’s none of your damn business.”
He grabbed the base of my ponytail, using his grip on my hair to lift me to my toes. “I’m making it my goddamn business because you and I both know that there’s something going on between us.” I opened my mouth to argue, but he shook his head. “No, don’t deny it and don’t lie to me.”
I closed my mouth so sharply that my teeth clicked together.
“Now, answer my question.”
I shook my head and Chris tugged my hair. “Say it.”
&
nbsp; I scowled at him. “No, I’m not having sex with Marcus. Jesus, he and I are just friends. He’s almost ten years older than me and more like a brother than a boyfriend.” Feeling brave, I shoved my face right into Chris’. “And we may have chemistry, Mr. Barden, but that doesn’t mean I have to act upon it. Now, I suggest you leave and, if you honestly expect me to finish my last few weeks as your employee, I strongly recommend you do not put your hands on me again.”
Chris’ eyes told me that he really did not like me ordering him around but that was tough shit because he was standing outside my apartment.
“I’ll leave, but this won’t be the last time my hands on you. You know it and you’ll enjoy it.”
I glowered at him because he was absolutely right.
“Good night,” he murmured, still looking angry yet determined. It made him appear darker and more dangerous than usual.
God help me, it was sexy as hell.
“Good night.”
I darted back inside my apartment and shut the door behind me, unsure if I was relieved or pissed off that Marcus had interrupted that kiss.
Chapter Seven
The next day, as soon as my alarm went off, I sent out a Girl Emergency text to my friends. I had to talk to someone about the insanity that seemed to be taking over my life. I told them to come to my apartment after work and bring wine. I would supply the pizza. A night of junk food and slightly drunken conversation sounded exactly like what I needed.
After Chris left last night, Marcus presented me with an amazing opportunity. He was putting together a showing in New York early next year and he wanted me to submit an array of photos. I knew this could make my career as a photographer so of course I said yes. I would start work on the project as soon as my last few weeks with Chris were over and done.
I spent a little more time than usual preparing to go to work. I knew it was ridiculous, but I couldn’t seem to control myself. I applied neutral make-up and smoothed my hair with a flat iron. Then I dressed in a dark brown wrap dress that accentuated all the right places. A pair of nude fishnet thigh highs and matching pumps completed the ensemble.
I shouldn’t have bothered. I arrived at the office ten minutes early, started coffee, and checked my email. There was a message from Chris explaining that he had a meeting with his friend-slash-client and would be out most, if not all, of the day.
Feeling disgruntled about completely losing my mind and primping for my boss, I passed my day slamming things around in my office. The receptionist stuck her head in to check on me early in the morning, then proceeded to avoid me the rest of the day because of my bad attitude.
When 5 p.m. finally arrived, Chris still hadn’t shown his face in the office all day. I gathered my coat and bag and headed home, stopping at the liquor store on the way to pick up a bottle of tequila. The day called for something stronger than my usual bottle of wine.
An hour and half later, I was tipsy and enjoying my fully loaded deep-dish pizza, surrounded by my four best friends. I had filled them in on the last few days.
Chelsea grinned at me as I finished. “It’s the power of that red dress. It looks amazing on you.”
I rolled my eyes. “It’s just a dress. Seriously, what am I going to do? He’s always just been Chris, my boss. Now, I can’t stop thinking about him.”
“Yeah, thinking about him naked,” Yancy quipped.
All the girls laughed and I threw a piece of pizza crust at her head.
“Shut up and help me. What should I do?”
They looked at one another, obviously in agreement. Tanya was the one to answer my question though.
“Get laid.”
“Shit, where’s the tequila?” I got to my feet and headed into the kitchen, followed by the sound of their laughter. I came back a few seconds later, bottle in hand. “I don’t understand why you guys even think this is a good idea. Don’t you listen to a word I say about him?”
They nodded. “Yes. You talk about him constantly.”
I collapsed back onto the floor. “No, I bitch about him constantly,” I corrected.
“You still talk about him all the time,” Chelsea argued. “Oh, and you stare at his ass when he walks away.”
I felt my cheeks heat at her words. I’d been staring at a lot more than his ass for years, but I couldn’t admit it. The tension in the office was hard enough to deal with and if I acknowledged it, even to myself, it would be difficult to go back to the way things used to be.
As usual, it was Grier who was able to voice my thoughts most effectively. Unfortunately, Grier’s accurate assessments came with her wisdom. I just wished that she wasn’t right so often. It drove me nuts, especially since she was four years younger than me.
“You’re afraid of what this could mean for your relationship with Chris, we get that, Lucy.” Grier paused and made sure I was looking directly at her. “But you need to be honest with yourself. You want him. He wants you. There’s no law that says you can’t explore that.” Her next words had my eyes bugging out of my head. “I think you should.”
“What?!” I yelled. “Why?”
She leaned forward. “I think you would be good for each other. He would keep you grounded and you would force him to lighten up from time to time. Also, I get the distinct impression that Chris Barden enjoys a challenge and you challenge him in ways no one else would dare, Lucy.”
That really wasn’t what I wanted to hear. I hoped one of them would argue with her but all the girls were nodding their heads in agreement.
I put my shot glass on the table, filled it with tequila, and threw it back before glaring at all four of them. “You all suck. It’s not nice to gang up on your friends.”
Tanya leaned forward and took the shot glass and bottle out of my hands. “We’re your friends and it’s our job to tell you the truth. That’s what friends do.”
I propped my elbow on my coffee table and rested my chin in my hand. “I know, but it sure would be nice if you’d let me believe the lie once in a while.”
It was my turn to get pelted with bits of leftover pizza crust.
“Y’all are cleaning that up,” I said, pointing to the mess they left on my rug.
The heckling continued until Grier clapped her hands and proceeded to shock me once again.
Giving me a piercing look, she pointed a finger at me. “Stop being a chickenshit. You’ve been avoiding your attraction to Chris for three years because he was your boss. In three weeks, he’s no longer your boss. You no longer have a legitimate reason to hide from your feelings any longer. I’m not saying you have to marry him, or even maintain a serious relationship with him. However, you have been repressing your emotions for too long. I’m worried that, if you continue down this path, you will never connect with anyone in a meaningful way.”
I stared at her, mouth slightly open. Grier might be the most observant of us all, but she was usually also the gentlest. This was a side of her I’d never seen.
“Promise me, Lucy,” she demanded.
I nodded.
After a short, shocked silence, the conversation drifted to other topics. I tried to contribute, but I couldn’t get Grier’s words out of my head. Had I been repressing my feelings? I drifted through the next hour, only responding when someone spoke to me directly.
As the evening wound down and the girls gathered their things to head home, I was still replaying Grier’s statements over and over in my mind. She was the last to leave and, as I walked her to the door, Grier studied me carefully. She stopped in the hallway, her gaze gentle yet knowing.
“You needed to hear it, Lucy. Don’t brood over it. It’s done. I love you and I understand the way your mind works. There is nothing wrong with avoiding commitment for a while, but you’ve been in a sort of holding pattern for three years. I’m worried and I don’t want to see you end up alone. You deserve to be happy and I think Chris will be able to help you with that.”
She hugged me and I had to hug her back. As much as her words
pained me, I knew deep in my heart that she was right. I also knew that I needed her wake-up call. While my career path was taking the direction I wanted, I kept my love life on the back burner.
“Love you,” I murmured.
“Call me this week, okay?”
I nodded and closed the door behind her. I was exhausted so I cleaned up half-heartedly, throwing away pizza boxes and carrying glasses into the sink. Then, feeling emotionally wrung out, I changed into my pajamas and crawled into bed.
Unfortunately, I couldn’t sleep. I stared at the ceiling, thinking about the last few years of my life. Grier was right. I’d closed myself off from any possibility of finding someone to share my life with and I’d done so well before I ever started working for Chris.
I hadn’t been seriously involved with anyone before my internship for Marcus. My main focus had been on taking care of myself and furthering my dreams, not finding love. In my head, I knew there was nothing wrong with that, but four years was too long. I’d barely dated, though there had been a couple of unsatisfying flings on occasion, and, somewhere along the way, I’d given up on the possibility of meeting my soul mate.
I rolled over onto my side and sighed heavily. It was time to take a risk. Chris appealed to me on so many levels and I wouldn’t be his employee for much longer. Though it scared me more than I wanted to admit, I was ready to take that chance.
Chapter Eight
I arrived at work the next morning, my decision made. Now I only had to figure out how to let Chris know I was interested without acting like I expected anything. Though, honestly, I was hoping for something sizeable in return and a mind-blowing orgasm would be a good start.
I was surprisingly calm about the entire situation. It seemed as though my subconscious had been waiting for me to arrive at this conclusion all along. I only hoped that I could share all this with Chris without humiliating myself, and I had to do it today. Otherwise, I’d procrastinate until I lost my nerve and I would forever be stuck in the rut I’d created for myself.
I walked into the office, every inch the self-assured assistant I’d been the last three years. The receptionist wasn’t at her desk yet and Chris’ office door was shut tight. I placed my purse in the bottom drawer of my desk and started the morning ritual of making coffee. I’d just finished pouring two cups and replacing the carafe when a tall body lightly pressed against my back. I watched as he reached around me and hooked two fingers into the handle of one of the mugs. Transfixed by the sensation of his body heat surrounding me and the sight of his long fingers clasping the handle, I froze.