Pierced (Tall, Dark, and Handsome Book 2)

by JA Huss

  “You think I brought you down here for some weird sex thing?”

  “What? No! Deep Throat! Like from Watergate?”

  “Oh. Right. That guy.”

  “Jesus.”

  “Sorry. My head’s a little… Come with me.”

  “Where?”

  I look around to make sure no one else is going to roll up on us, and then take my friend by the arm and drag him over to my McLaren. I open the passenger door and usher him inside. But first…

  “Your phone.”

  “My phone?”

  “Gimme your phone, man. I’m putting it in the trunk. This car is going to be our SCIF.”

  “Our SCIF? Why do we need a SCIF?”

  “Because the last time I tried to talk with you in confidence, your lady burst in and fucked my head all up. And also because you work for the NS fucking A!”

  He pokes his bottom lip out. “Fair enough.” He hands me his phone and I toss it in the trunk along with my own as I swing around the back of the car on my way to the driver’s side. I open the door, slide into the seat, and take off my sunglasses.

  “OK,” he says. “So what’s…?”

  I put my finger to my lips to silence him. I’m still not sure we’re in the clear. And what I have to tell him today, no one else can hear. No one. I can’t even risk it. For so many reasons.

  I turn the stereo on and the speakers start blaring the dubstep playlist that I last had on.

  “Ahhh! What the hell is that?” Andrew shouts over the music.

  “Knife Party, I think! They’re Australian!”

  “It sounds like a grizzly bear with chainsaws for paws trying to hack a tunnel into my brain!”

  I turn it down slightly so that the squealing electronic musical effects still cover our voices, but that it’s not loud enough to hurt Andrew’s delicate baby ears. Christ.

  “What in the name of jumpin’ Josephat is going on, man?” he asks.

  “Um, well, couple things. Remember how excited I was about what happened with me and Myrtle?”

  “You mean do I remember what you told me yesterday? Uh. Yeah.”

  “Yeah, well, less excited today.”

  “What? Why? What happened?”

  “I dunno, man. I mean… dude…” I don’t even know how to go about expressing the things I need to tell him. So I start with the facts. “She made me get naked.”

  He nods. “Right. Yeah. Well. I mean, you’re doing some weird BDSM shit with your old secretary—”

  “Executive assistant, man! Jesus, join us in the twenty-first century. Hey, did you hear women can drive and vote and shit now, too? Fuck, bro.” Honestly, Andrew is a great guy, but there’s a lot of that old South rearing that must’ve gotten stuck in there. I mean, get woke, friend. Sheesh.

  He shakes his head. “Fine, man. OK. So, you’re doing some weird BDSM shit with your former executive assistant, and yet you didn’t think getting naked would, at some point, be part of the drill?”

  “No. No, I did. I just didn’t…”

  “Just didn’t what?”

  “I dunno. It was very… it was… I got hard, man.”

  There’s a pause before he says, “Well. Yeah.”

  “No, I don’t think you get it. I mean, like, hard. Like…” I raise my forearm and make a fist. I tense it and shake it in his face to emphasize my point.

  He puts his hand around my fist and pushes my arm down. “Yeah, yeah, no, I get it. OK. And…?”

  “And… I dunno. It just… it didn’t feel like an agreement or a contract or whatever it’s supposed to be.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means… it started to not feel like this is just something I’m doing to make Myrtle happy, or something I’m doing to avoid a lawsuit, or—”

  “If you were doing BDSM to avoid a lawsuit, I’ve got some sobering news for ya.”

  “Will you just shut up and let me get this out?”

  Knife Party screeches a staccato siren into the air. Andrew nods and does the ‘lock my lips with a key and throw it away’ thing people do when they’re being annoying.

  “I’m saying, I felt something. Like felt something. I’m trying to say that I wanted her.”

  I let that land as the sound of something resembling machine-gun fire plays in the background.

  “You get me?” I go on. “I wanted her. The way you want someone when you’re… you know…”

  Andrew cocks his head and raises his eyebrows. “Falling in love?” he asks.

  “No! No. That’s… no. That’s not what I’m saying. I don’t… I mean… I don’t…” I pause, trying to find the right words. The closest I can come up with is, “I don’t think so.”

  “Pierce? ”

  “Yeah?”

  “Have you never been in love before?”

  “Not sure. If I had, would know for certain?”

  He lets his head fall back into the head rest and says, “Holy shit.”

  “What? Holy shit what?”

  “I’m… honestly, I feel kind of embarrassed. I’ve known you all these years and I never once bothered to notice that you’ve never actually been in love.”

  “That’s not… that can’t be true, though, can it? I mean, that girl in college. That first one you dated who was terrible to you—”

  “Jilissa?”

  “I couldn’t remember Eden, you expect me to remember fucking Jilissa?”

  “That’s fair.”

  “But, yeah, I guess. The one I wanted to be with but that you dated first. I think I was kind of in love with her.”

  “No, you weren’t. You just wanted to, whatever. Win. She was hot and mean. Which is your shit. You just wanted the challenge. No offense.”

  “None taken. But, yeah, OK. So, but that’s what this is with Myrtle. Right? My whole plan in taking her to Vail this weekend is to let her think she’s won, but then to, y’know, PIERCE her—”

  “Nice. You just make that up? ”

  “Eh, I’ve used it once or twice before.”

  “Clever.”

  “Thanks. But, yeah, it’s to let her think she’s won, but then actually win myself and then we both get to feel like we’ve won and save face and then move on with business as usual. It’s a classic political strategy move. I think. I may have made it up, but it makes sense to me.”

  He stares at me. I stare at him, waiting for a response of some kind. In the background, Knife Party… knife-parties.

  And then something I’m not expecting happens.

  He takes my face in his hands.

  “What’s happening? Why are you doing that? You’re touching me. Why are you touching me? Stop that.”

  He doesn’t. He just grips me tighter and looks at me in the eyes. “Listen to me…” He takes a breath and says, “I love you. Do you know that?” I nod inside his grip. My cheeks feel squishy. “And you love me. I know you do.”

  “I do,” I mutter out through my squished fish lips.

  “I’d do anything for you. Anything. Do you know that?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “And you’d do anything for me. True?”

  I nod.

  “Would you do anything for Myrtle?” he asks.

  “Whattayou mean?”

  “I mean would you, I dunno, go to incredible lengths to publicly shame her when you thought she had betrayed you? Because somewhere inside you, it cut you so deep and you felt so hurt that you didn’t know what to do with that pain?”

  “I—”

  He tightens up his hold on my face and shakes it a little. “No! And”—he pauses, to make sure I’m listening, I guess—“and… when you realized you had done something terrible, would you do anything… anything… to make it up to her? Would you submit to whatever wild abuse she wanted to put you through just to prove to her that you’re sorry? And that you care about her? And that you love her?”

  I roll my eyes up, thinking. “I mean—”

  “Because if all that’s true,
and if you can’t help getting hard when you’re with her, and if you’re still willing to put yourself through it, and if you’re taking her to fucking Vail this weekend, then, I mean, I’m no shrink, but I dunno, dude. You may—may—really like this woman. A lot.”

  I blow air into the inside of my cheeks, which pushes Andrew’s hands outward, and finally he takes them away and lets them drop in his lap. He says, “But hey, I’m just spitballing.”

  I can feel my jaw slacken and I kind of stare at the steering wheel. In fairness to Andrew’s point, the music is pretty distracting. I reach out and turn the stereo off. I stare at the steering wheel some more. Out of my periphery I can see Andrew looking at me. When I look over, the expression he wears is something like a cross between pity and affection.

  “What?” I ask.

  He shrugs. “I just like seeing you happy.”

  “Happy? I feel like I’m going fucking crazy.”

  “I know. That’s when you’re happiest.”

  Yeah. He’s right.

  “What’re you gonna do?” he asks.

  “About…?”

  “Whatever.”

  I breathe in long and hard, let it out through my nose. Contort my mouth. “Dunno. Go upstairs and find out what happens next, I guess.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She told me when I see her at work today she’s going to test me, and if I pass, I get a reward tonight.”

  “Really? What test? What reward?”

  “Gee, And, I don’t fuckin’ know. Maybe that’s part of what’s got me all twisted up.”

  “OK. OK. Sorry. And you haven’t seen her yet?”

  “No. Not yet.”

  “It’s three o’clock. How’ve you avoided her all day?”

  “I’ve been down here, trying to go up for six hours.”

  “Here, in the parking garage? All day?”

  “I wandered over and talked to that woman at the dry cleaners for a while.”

  “Svetlana?”

  “Dude, I don’t know. I asked her how to get candle wax residue out of the lining of suit pants.”

  “Why did you have…” I shoot him a look. “Oooooooohhhhhhh.”

  I shake my head. “OK. I gotta… I gotta go figure out whatever.” I open the door and step out. Andrew does the same. We meet at the trunk. I open it and hand him his phone back.

  “Thanks, man,” I say, giving him a hug.

  “I got you, man,” he says into my shoulder. “I mean, I wish I could be more helpful, but this is maybe just one of those things that…”

  “No, I know. It’s cool. I appreciate you letting me Deep Throat you, anyway.”

  And no sooner is that out of my mouth than Andrew’s cell rings. He answers it on speaker.

  “Yeah, Dev?”

  “Uh… boss…? We’ve got that call with… I’m sorry to… I mean if you’re busy doing stuff… then…”

  “Aha! I knew it!” I shout.

  Fuckin’ Declan.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN - MYRTLE

  I won.

  End of story. We turned the last page and it’s time to close the book.

  I just… won.

  So I’m humming as I pretend to work. Been doing it all day. I cannot even remember the last time I felt this happy.

  Well, no. Maybe that’s not true. That morning Pierce accused me of being the Sexpert I was pretty happy. I got a little rush as I took my seat with Eden and stared up at the stage where Pierce was standing. He of Chevalier royalty. Tapping the microphone with his finger, asking for our attention.

  I was fixated on him. Ready for whatever words came out of his mouth. I wanted to stand up, clap my hands three times and say, “Your leader is speaking, subjects! Hush up!”

  But it wasn’t necessary. He had everyone’s attention that morning. I was a little breathless with anticipation because I didn’t know what he was gonna say. I had no idea what this impromptu meeting was about. It was one of his classic Pierce reactions to things. Which I admit I find exhilarating.

  So yes. I guess that was the last happy day I had at work. Looking up at him on stage.

  But today my happiness comes from his absence.

  Do I find that weird? Yes. And normally when Pierce is out of town or away from work and I’m here at Le Man alone, I feel a little sad. Like I’m missing something. And I have to rally myself because eventually a shitstorm lands on my desk and Pierce isn’t there to hand it off to, so I take care of things. Not because I want glory. That’s not why I rally when he’s gone. It’s just… I want people to see him in the best light. I want them to see him the way I do. Because Pierce is probably the only person I’ve ever met who… understands me.

  Or I thought he did.

  Turns out I was wrong about that.

  What was the point of my pointless musings again?

  Oh, yes. Humming. I’m humming.

  “What are you doing?”

  I look up from my computer to find Eden standing in my doorway. “Oh, just looking at these design ideas Maggie sent over for the party.”

  “No, that noise. What was that noise? Were you… growling?”

  Eden. She’s so adorable. “I was humming. I’m happy today. Pierce and I had quite the night last night and today he’s missing.”

  “Missing? Did you leave his body somewhere?”

  I close my email, fold my hands in my lap, and look at her. Maggie can wait. “Not his body. His body is juuuust fine. His spirit, well, I might’ve broken him.”

  “Broken him how?” She closes my door, walks over to one of the chairs in front of my desk, and plops down. “What did you do, Myrtle?”

  I take a deep breath and all the words spill out on the exhale. The whole story, starting with ‘velvet rope’ and ending with ‘cock cage,’ fills the room. Eden is quiet as she listens and when I finally finish by saying, “And then he didn’t show up for work today.” She blinks her eyes at me. “He’s avoiding my test.”

  I have to admit, I’m sorry this game ended so soon. I’d have liked to see him try to pass that test. Of course, there’s no way he could. I’m just that good.

  “Are you crazy?” Eden says. “You did that to Pierce? You do realize he’s your freaking boss, right?”

  “He wasn’t my boss last night.” I cackle. And then I begin to hum again. I can’t help it. I’m so happy.

  “Stop that growling. It’s… disturbing.”

  “I won, don’t you see? I won. He came over, I humiliated him, and now he’s so embarrassed, he can’t even show up for work today. He can’t face me. It’s just like… no,” I say, stopping to collect my thoughts. “It’s exactly the way I felt after that whole Sexpert debacle.” And then I sigh. “I think I’m done here. I can now walk out on my own terms.”

  I lean back in my chair, clasp my hands behind my neck, and luxuriate in my own self-satisfaction.

  A knock at my door makes me lean forward again. Eden spins in the chair, and we both stare at the door.

  Pierce is peeking through the tall, skinny side window, smiling at me.

  Eden turns to me and says, “Well, would you look at that,” just as Pierce opens the door and pops his head in.

  “Eden,” he says.

  “Hey, Pierce. Um…” She glances at me, then back at him. “Everything OK today?”

  “Just fine,” he says, eyes meeting mine, then darting to Eden’s, then back to mine. “Just wanted to check in with you, Myrtle. Make sure everything’s running smoothly, since I had to take care of business today.”

  “I’m sure Valerie has it all under control,” I snap.

  “Yup,” he says. Smiling. “Yup. I’m sure she probably does. So…” he says, leaning into the word, still smiling. “Yup. Great. Good talk. Catch you later, Myrtle.”

  And then he closes the door and disappears.

  Eden turns to face me again. Then she stands, straightens her shirt, and says, “Better reconsider your exit strategy. Because he didn’t look like a man humiliate
d.”

  “No,” I growl. “He didn’t. What do you think he’s been doing all day?”

  Eden laughs. “Probably reliving last night on repeat with his hands down his pants.”

  “Eden!”

  “What? You tied him up, smacked him with a paddle, dripped wax over his balls, and then threatened him with a cock cage! And he just hinted that he’s looking forward to more. So… I mean, what did you expect, Myrtle? He liked it! I don’t care who you are or how vanilla your sex life is, if Mistress Myrtle gives you the full treatment, you get off! How do you not understand this?”

  I just look at her. Is it true? Did he like it that much? Is he making fun of me and my attempts to scare him into humiliation? “I didn’t give him the full treatment,” I say.

  “Oh, my God. You’re gonna do it again tonight, aren’t you? That’s stupid! Because if I was making a Twitter campaign about this moment I’d call it #Fail.”

  I glare at her, but Eden isn’t afraid of me. She might’ve been, once upon a time. And I used to make her uncomfortable in lots of ways, but not lately. It’s like she’s immune now.

  Shit, is Pierce immune too?

  Is everyone immune? Am I really just that weird woman who makes more than Josh Washburn now?

  “You don’t double down when your plan doesn’t work, Myrtle. You reconsider. And I think that’s what you should do now. Reconsider. Everything. The leaving, the sex games, all of it. Because this is going to end badly. You’re not getting what you want and he is. How is that winning?”

  Is he getting what he wants?

  “Just tell him you miss your old job and you want it back. And then tell him you love him and can’t live without him—”

  I laugh.

  “—because both of those things are true and one day, you’re gonna realize that. Stop denying your feelings!”

  “I don’t have feelings,” I snap.

  “Everyone has feelings, Myrtle. You just bury yours deep for some reason.”

  “Don’t psychoanalyze me. I know what I want and how to get it. And this is working. I just need to push on. Besides,” I say, standing up and straightening my jacket. “I promised him a test today at work and when I make a promise, I deliver. There is no way he’ll pass my test. And when he fails, and he will, I’m going to humiliate him in front of everyone and then… then I’ll have my satisfaction. Stick around, Eden. You’re about to see the mistress at work.”