“You were the one who asked for a kiss.” How dare she interrupt him? He was busy. Kissing her. Why the fuck would he care about anyone chancing a glance into an empty office and seeing the boss’s kid take a break with a pretty woman? I am a mess. An utter, unsaveable mess. God help him.
“This isn’t a kiss.” Sylvia was silenced with his tongue, but only for a moment. “This is erotic asphyxiation!”
Good.
But if she was complaining that much, he could kiss her throat. Or her breasts. Or her stomach. Or… or…
“Oh my God,” Sylvia muttered, bracing herself against the abandoned desk behind her. “You’re insane.”
Insane with lust, yeah.
Joseph figured he had about five minutes to make her come. And he wanted to. Now, yesterday, a year ago… making any woman orgasm was one of the sweetest gifts, but making Sylvia climax was a cosmic reward. As soon as he heard a moan of approval kill them both inside, Joseph was on his knees, yanking up the skirt of her dress and diving between her thighs.
This is it. I’ve lost my fucking mind. The war continued to rage inside of him. Only now it was between the sex-starved part of his brain and the rationale that chided him for being so stupid. “You do know that this is not going to end well, right? If your grandmother saw you going down on a girl in the office, she’d die of a heart attack. Let’s not talk about what your mother would say.” What was wrong with him? Thinking about things like that when pussy was a kiss away.
“Oh!” Sylvia grabbed his head and jerked against his face. Or maybe she jerked against the table. “Okay. We’re doing this.”
Finally, she was on his page of this fucked up book. Sit still and enjoy yourself, damnit. The more she squirmed, moaned, and asked him what this was about, the more he doubted himself. I don’t want to doubt. I want to do this. Sylvia had such headiness to her that Joseph could easily fall in lust over and over again. Besides, if she thought he was a dramatic kisser up top? Then she hadn’t received the full service.
“Fuuuuck.” At least she had lowered the volume. And at least she was wet for him. Petite fingers curled his hair around them. Thighs opened to give his face greater access to her opening cleft. Her clit begged for his attention. There. Over and over, round and round, his tongue lashed against it, occasionally dipping into her center and tasting the incredible essence of a woman who wanted him. He sampled her greedily. Damn what the thoughts in his head said. Joseph only listened to the ones commanding him to make Sylvia feel like the queen of their private universe.
Feel like my queen.
Sylvia muffled the sounds of her pleasure with her hand. Not that Joseph needed to hear her scream to know she was coming. That was apparent when his tongue tasted nothing but her. When her inner walls closed in on his tongue. When her clit became so swollen that he couldn’t leave it alone.
When she said that she loved him.
Did Sylvia know that she was saying such things? Or had Joseph misheard her? He was thrown so far off his course that he almost missed the moment her thighs shook against his face and her fingers dug into his scalp.
Almost.
Joseph did not linger between her legs. As soon as they both came back to their senses, he was up, batting away her hands as they lunged for his zipper. Did she want to return the favor? Did she want him to fuck her? Didn’t matter. There was no time for that…
Nonsense.
But she did lull him into one last kiss. This one was not as passionate as the ones before, but it needn’t be. Its only function was to make Sylvia happy and to give Joseph one last chance to think.
Idiot. He continued to mentally admonish himself as he continued to kiss her. You’re in too deep with her. What are you doing? Cut her off, before you both get hurt.
No, no he didn’t want to do that. He wanted to take her home and make love to her.
Kiss her one more time and you’re doomed. You know that. How could you have a life with her? How will a woman fuck up your career this time? Are you going to throw it all away for someone again?
Let her go.
Joseph abruptly pulled away, leaving Sylvia’s head spinning before him. “Wow,” she said. “That was… a kiss, man.”
Don’t touch her.
He already had his hand on the doorknob. “All right,” he said. “I kissed you.”
“And?”
Joseph didn’t look at her. He didn’t want to see what he did to her when he said, “You were right. I needed to kiss you to make sure I felt nothing for you.” He opened the door. “And I don’t. You should go home.”
Sylvia hopped off the desk, but Joseph was already heading straight for the restroom. He had to get that brainwashing taste out of his mouth before he truly was a hopeless case.
Chapter 24
Sylvia
“Thanks for meeting me. How are you doing?”
Sylvia hesitated halfway into her seat. The glaring late September sunshine was going to make her go blind. What was with this weather? One moment she was freezing, and the next she was ripping off her jacket so she could breathe again.
“I’m fine.” What a fucking lie. Ever since Joseph rejected her with a verbal slap to the face last night, Sylvia had been drifting from one toxic thought to the next. Her night was filled with nightmares. Nightmares about Maxwell and his sweet promises of a happily ever after fit for a pauper turned princess. Nightmares of Sebastian and how hollow that shame of a relationship had been. Hell, even a brief nightmare of Alexander Sheen, his hands on her as he told her every horrible thing that happened to the people his goons kidnapped and sold.
What she never expected was to wake up to her phone ringing. Somehow, Nala Nazarov had found her number, and she wanted to meet for lunch.
Never mind that Sylvia had returned home super late last night and had to go work at Decades later. I’m supposed to sleep most of the day away. Assuming she didn’t have any appointments with rich would-be sugar daddies. That was Sylvia’s major game plan now. Go all out and find a sugar daddy to tie her over until she could fly down to LA and get an interview with Madam Clementine.
“You don’t look fine.”
“And you look like a fresh-faced supermodel.” As if. Nala was petite. No, scrawny. Raggedy thin black hair she always wore in a sloppy ponytail. Her boyfriend’s Stanford sweatshirt – complete with holes in the hem from overuse. Her jeans weren’t much better either. They weren’t even designer. What was the point of that when she was serious with a tech billionaire? Was the man a billionaire because he was a miser? I’d shoot myself. Sylvia needed a healthy allowance from her future rich husband.
“Anyway, thanks for agreeing to meet me.”
“What is this about?” Nala was not forthcoming over the phone. She had no problem speaking in a public restaurant, but she wasn’t about to speak over the phone? Okay, then. Sylvia needed to get out of bed eventually, anyway. Otherwise she was going to spend her whole time thinking of that cruel-as-fuck Joseph who yanked on her heart as if it were that malleable.
Nala cocked her head as the waiter brought them water and menus. “He didn’t tell you?”
“Who?”
“Joseph.”
Sylvia wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Why would he tell me something?”
“Oh, I thought you were seeing him. It sounded like…”
“We’re not a thing, no.” He had made that clear after polishing her pearl one last time with great and reverberating fervor. “So what the hell is this about?”
“Well I was hoping that you could tell me that he did something with the information we gave him. We saw the news last night, and…”
“We? Information?”
“Wow, you really aren’t in a relationship with him.”
What a bitch!
Nala brusquely ordered a Coke and a salad. Sylvia was as quick to get her Panini. The faster the waiter got away from their table, the faster she would get some answers.
“Anyway, after what you said abo
ut you-know-who,” Nala said with a lowered voice, “I told Vincent. Kinda forgot about it for a while, unfortunately. Then we saw that more people were disappearing over the summer, and… well, I may have encouraged him to step up his research. I’m not going to flat out say what he did, but let’s say it included a few computers and a long night full of coffee. Hadn’t seen anything like it since he dug up dirt on Crow.”
Don’t remind me, job killer. “So he hacked into Sheen’s stuff.”
“You said it, not me.”
“He find anything?”
“Oooh, yeah. Nothing that would damn him to jail, but it definitely didn’t look good. We found some coded messages we deciphered to mean his trucks. Specifically, we figured out that a ‘shipment’ was about to go to Tijuana. Lots of talk about tigers and a little female cub.”
Sylvia shuddered. Cristina. She had to be the cub.
“We got the dates, the truck number, even the driver’s name. Everything. Printed it off, put it in the safe, and immediately called Joseph. He said he was going to look into it. Next thing we heard, the truck had crashed on the freeway.”
“What the news didn’t tell you was that there were trafficking victims in the back.”
“Wow. Really? I only saw stuff about two tigers.”
“They were a front.” Sylvia had watched the news too. Genevieve Stone and her media crew had done a great job keeping certain details out of the news. Sylvia was sure they had their reasons, but would it have killed someone to keep looking for those two missing women? How were they going to do that without announcing it on the news? What do I know? “I was there.”
“I thought you said…”
“We’re not in a relationship. That’s what you were asking about earlier.”
Nala sat back with wide eyes. “I see. Sorry I asked.”
You should be. “I’m not sure what happened with the truck. They wouldn’t tell me.”
“Did they at least tell you that the driver is Agent Cindy Kline’s fiancé?”
“What?” Seriously, what?
“Oh, yeah. We dug up good shit on that guy.” Nala was practically rubbing her hands together! “Once we made the connection between him and that agent in a coma, we went digging. He used to work for another trucking company. Then suddenly, about three months ago, he quit his job and started working for Sheen Transporters. Took a pay cut, even. There was no rhyme or reason to it. He had good marks at his old job and had way better benefits. We thought that was shady as fuck.”
But Agent Kline went down taking out that jogger… “Did you tell Joseph?”
“No. He was in a hurry after we told him about the truck. I was hoping that if I told you it would trickle down to him.”
“I…” Sylvia grabbed her napkin off the table and mauled it with her fists. “I’m not a part of that investigation anymore. Joseph and I aren’t even on the best of terms.”
“But you have to tell him!”
“Why don’t you?”
Nala considered that question. “Something like that… isn’t it better coming from you? But if you’re not on the best of terms, I suppose I could call him again.”
Sylvia tossed her napkin back onto the table. “No. I’ll do it.” She had an ass to ream, anyway. If Joseph thought he was getting the last word in this relationship? He had another fucking think coming.
***
It was three in the afternoon by the time Sylvia made her way down to the South Waterfront. Nala had offered her a ride in her chauffeured SUV, but Sylvia declined, hoping to use the streetcar ride down to think through how she was going to speak to Joseph.
One thing she knew? She couldn’t be buzzed up by the apartment concierge. Yeah, right. The moment he heard about her stalker ass (oh, how the tables had turned,) he would reject her and tell security to throw her out. This was even assuming that he was home. Sylvia didn’t want to have to wait around until she lost her nerve and left on her own accord.
Good thing she was adept at sneaking into places.
She had done it countless times in her career. Clients wanted discretion. If Sylvia couldn’t sneak her way past front desks and bouncers, then what good was she at her job? Not every high-paying client had enough clout to gain her instant access anywhere. Sometimes a girl had to wait until a bouncer was distracted or a front desk clerk had briefly turned around. The guy working the concierge desk in the lobby of Joseph’s apartment building? Pft. Easy. The man wore a cheap suit and was more interested in his phone than who came through the front doors.
Ah, front doors. Always the wrong entrance when someone was unexpected.
Sylvia slipped through the parking garage, passing the concierge guy who only cared about people who addressed him – and those trying to get into the elevator from the lobby. Sylvia remembered the code Joseph used to open the elevator in the parking garage. This was easy. The management company should really do a better job. Embarrassing.
Sylvia touched up her hair and makeup the long ride up. The elevator occasionally stopped to pick up more passengers, but no one paid her any mind. As far as they were concerned, she lived there – or had a pass to come and go as she pleased. As long as she blended in and acted like she belonged there, not even the useless security would care.
I swear to God, if he’s not home… Sylvia grounded herself in the few quiet seconds she took standing in front of Joseph’s door. Her finger slipped against the buzzer. The only reason she knew it worked was because of the vibration against her skin.
Great. Vibrations. What she needed before seeing Joseph’s gorgeous face when he opened the door…
Wait.
That was not Joseph answering the door!
“Uh, hi,” Sylvia said. Is this the right apartment? She glanced at the number on the door before looking back at the young woman standing in the doorway. Young. Taut. Ebony black hair as straight as the lines of the girl’s body. It was barely in the sixties outside and yet she wore denim booty shorts and a plain purple tank top that boosted her cleavage and showed off her midriff. Jewelry dangled from her ears and wrists, creating a cacophony of plastic and metal smacking together whenever she slightly moved her limbs. “Is Joseph home?”
The girl – she had to be a girl, for fuck’s sake – looked over her shoulder with nothing but boredom on her face. “Josef!” she called, her accent more jarring than her presence. “Una chica está aqui!”
Something clanged in the kitchen. Only then did Sylvia smell food cooking. At three on a Saturday afternoon? Joseph was cooking for some young thing? Oh my God. He’s not fucking this girl, is he? Holy shit, he liked them young! Gross! Well, that would definitely kill any lust Sylvia was still harboring. Best to tell him what Nala told her and get out of there.
Those thoughts changed the moment Joseph came into view. Dark blue jeans showed off the firmness of his legs – and that ass, hot damn. A burgundy red T-shirt with gold lettering hugged his torso in ways that made Sylvia forget that there was another young woman present. A woman that this handsome demon staring her down through chestnut brown eyes was probably fucking in order to forget Sylvia. And Stella. And Angelica.
He also hadn’t shaved that day. This whole rolled out of bed to hang out with my woman at home look was going to send Sylvia back crying at this rate.
“Bien, Reina.” Oh, good. Now he was speaking in Spanish with that thigh-stroking accent of his. How was it possible for a guy who already bled masculinity to sound even more virile? Sylvia never once thought anything of accents until she heard Joseph speak Spanish… and this was a woman who had met her share of British, French, Italian, Russian, and even Brazilian millionaires. He’s a millionaire too, idiot! Crap, that made this worse! “No need to scare her off. She can come in.” Joseph returned to the kitchen.
The girl who opened the door gave Sylvia a long, hard look that teemed with so much judgment that Sylvia had half a mind to smack her. This is for thinking you’re so much better than me! Another smack! This is for sleeping wit
h him! What the hell was wrong with her? This girl couldn’t be fifteen! Did that make this situation better or worse? Worse! So much worse!
“Hi,” Sylvia squeaked. She slowly entered the apartment that smelled of spicy soup cooking on the stove. “I’m Sylvia. How do you know Joseph?”
The girl crossed her skinny arms. “How do you know Josef?” she asked. Her accent only returned when she said his Spanish name. “Didn’t realize he was hanging out with other girls.”
So it was like that? Sylvia could as easily match her rival’s stance and stare her down!
“Jesus and the whole of the apostles,” Joseph muttered from the other side of his kitchen island. “Would you two ease up? You’re creeping me out.”
“Don’t worry.” Sylvia couldn’t look at either of them. “Came by to deliver some nuggets. Then I’ll be on my way so you can get back to your date with this actual child, pervert.”
“The fuck?”
“A child?” The girl said something in Spanish that was not something her mother would have approved of. Joseph sure as hell didn’t. He rounded the island counter and readied to pull his guest off Sylvia before the first finger in the face could occur. “Esta puta…” Okay, Sylvia knew what that meant! Did this girl think she was the first one to call an escort what she was to her face, in any language?
“Calm down!” Joseph wrapped his arms around the girl as if he were a cage and she were thrashing tiger. “You’re embarrassing me. Act your damn age. Unbelievable, no wonder your mother is always calling you a mocosa loca.”
“She basically called you an incestuous pedo!”
“Well she called me a whore.” See? Sylvia knew some Spanish!
“You’re both dumbasses.” Joseph released the girl and gave her such a paternal stink eye that Sylvia was even more confused. “Sylvia, this is Reina. My little sister.”
Little… sister? “Oh. Uh, sorry. I forgot you had a sister.” And never once thought she would walk in on some sibling alone time on a Saturday afternoon.
“Reina, this is Sylvia. We, uh, work together sometimes.”
Damaged Goods Page 27