The Auction
Page 10
She punched the button for the top floor after she slipped inside the empty elevator. When the doors opened she knew where she was going without having to check. She’d memorized the layout her first years as an associate so she could avoid as much face time as possible.
She saw them before they noticed her. Stark looked at ease sipping from a crystal tumbler as he leaned against the back of the leather sofa. They laughed and chatted, and Scotty didn’t want to interrupt. Her phone vibrated.
Stark: I can feel you watching. Come in here.
Scotty: How did you know?
Stark: I know you.
Scotty: I like it.
Stark: I want you to meet my father. Well, reintroduce yourself. It will make you both happy. He’s been wanting me to get out of my apartment for years, and you two are going to really hit it off. I’m sure of it.
She slid her phone into the pocket of her dress and pushed her shoulders back. With his father she never wanted to seem submissive. This would be a good test, to see how Stark would treat her in public.
“Dad, this is my girlfriend, Scotty.”
Stark, Sr. offered his hand. “I’ve already had my eye on her. She does great work, and is an asset to the firm.”
She took his hand. “Thank you, Mr. Stark.”
“You can call me John. Mr. Stark might get confusing.”
“Just a little.” She laughed and took the drink Stark held out to her.
“So how long has this,” John gestured between them. “Been going on?”
“A few weeks, but since she works for you, I wanted to keep it on the up and up.” Stark took a long drink from his glass. “It’s serious.”
“Everything you do is serious. Since you were a kid,” John commented.
Stark nodded. Scotty sipped her drink, groaning softly at the high quality scotch.
“You two kids go get dinner, but have her back after. I need her tonight.”
“You got it.” Stark set his drink aside and held out his arm for Scotty.
She took another swallow of her drink and then took his arm, allowing him to lead her out.
“Now you have permission from the boss for dinner, at least.” He laughed and hit the call button for the elevator.
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“I wanted to. I wanted you to know I’m serious about this.” He turned towards her and cupped her face in his hands.
“Not here, please.” She placed a hand over his. “I can’t look like less in front of them.”
“No, never here,” he agreed.
“So you’re not mad?”
“Not in the slightest. Your job is more important than our little games.” He paused and then added, “But not more important than us.”
She pulled him into the elevator and kissed him as the doors slid closed. Maybe she could break her own rules this once. His tongue slid over hers, and he grabbed her hair, holding their bodies together. He didn’t let go until the ding sounded and the doors started to open. She released him reluctantly, not even sure which floor had been pressed.
But he knew where they were going. He led her back to her office, much to her surprise and relief. Getting special treatment by the boss was not something she wanted to have on her back.
“I thought we were going out?”
“I don’t want to drag you away for too long. I know your job is important to you, and I’m not going to have my father play favorites.”
Scotty breathed a sigh and melted a little. “Thank you, I didn’t want to say anything but everything you said is true.”
“Growing up with my father didn’t fall on deaf ears. Your job is a ruthless one.”
“But I love it.”
“It suits you.” He leaned into her and pressed his lips to hers. “I ordered food on my way here.”
“Then why the big to-do with your father?”
“How else was I going to sneak in here on a Friday night after the lobby closed?” He flashed her a smile. “I had to come check on you when you texted me. But, I must admit, having you meet my father was nice, too.”
“Are you two close?”
He nodded. “Quite. Although I think he was sick of only going to one restaurant. So you may be his new favorite person for getting me out of my apartment.”
Scotty melted a bit more. He was breaking through her hard exterior. “You didn’t have to do that.”
He took her hands in his. “I did. I knew what must have been going through your mind. You never have to worry about work with me. This comes before play.”
She squeezed his hands. “So you came all the way here for just me? Not to see your father.”
“I love the old man, but he was just a means to see you.”
She swooned and leaned into his arms. She was done for when it came to him. Never before in her life had she had someone who went so out of their own way to make her happy.
“Do you mind if I work while we wait?” She did want to get out of here before three A.M.
“Be my guest. Come over here on your sofa with me.”
She grabbed her laptop and he clicked the door closed before he took a seat next to her. Side-eyeing him, she opened up her email to see what needed to be changed on the motion. As she read through she felt pressure on her thighs. She looked over her laptop to see him on his knees between hers, forcing her legs open.
“I’m going to get a little work done, while you work.” He pushed her panties to the side. “Don’t come until the food gets here.”
She groaned. “Stark…I don’t want this to become a work thing.”
“It won’t, but since I’m here, you have to give me an exception to the rule.” She let him move her legs further open and went to set her laptop aside.
“Oh no you don’t.” He blocked it, pushing her computer back into her hands. “You have work to do. Don’t even pay attention to me.” He dropped his head to lick over her slit. “Focus,” he said.
What an ass. But she was his, and she wouldn’t change him.
About the Author
J.R. Gray, when not staying up all night writing, can be found basking in the warm glow of the Miami sun, or at the gym where it’s half assumed Gray is a permanent resident. A dominant, pilot, and sword fighting enthusiast, Gray finds it hard to be in the passenger seat of any car. Gray frequently interrupts real life, including normal sleep patterns, to jot down nonsense. The bane of Gray’s existence are commas, and even though it’s been fully acknowledged they are necessary, they continue to baffle and bewilder.
If Gray wasn’t writing…well, that’s not possible. The buildup of untold stories would haunt Gray into an early grave or possibly a mental institution where the tales would end up on the walls in crayon and finger paint.
J.R. Gray is Gender Queer and prefers He/Him/His pronouns.
For more information on other books by J.R., visit his website: http://www.jrgraybooks.com.
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