by K D Grace
‘If you’re accusing me of something, you’d best come out with it. You usually have no trouble accusing me of all sorts.’
‘Sir, Tino’s falling for Stella, and Stella for him, can’t you see that?’
This time the pause was so long that O’Kelly feared they’d lost their connection. ‘Sir?’
There was a heavy release of breath. ‘Really? You really think so?’
She frowned at the phone. ‘Isn’t it obvious?’
Another pause. There was the slam of a car door, and suddenly she could hear traffic noise in the background of their call. Was he actually carrying on this conversation while strolling down a busy street somewhere? Then the rushing wind of his breath filtered into her ear. ‘But he’s a glorified paid fuck, O’Kelly.’ She could hear him struggle with the words. Every time she had reminded the Boss that they actually ran an online brothel with giant Pet carriers, he got angry at her. The Pet Shop was always something more to him. Most of the time it was something more to her too. ‘Stella knows this,’ he continued. ‘Frankly, I was just as scared as you were that she wouldn’t accept our little gift. And now, after only seeing him twice, you think she’s falling for him? It doesn’t make any sense. Besides,’ he added as a quick afterthought. ‘Tino’s not the kind to fall in love.’
‘I wouldn’t have thought so either.’ She measured her words carefully. There had never been any hiding her emotions from the Boss. He had never had to see her face to read her. ‘But Stella is vulnerable for the takeover. And if you ... if we want her primed and ready for the task at hand, the one thing we don’t need is her thinking clouded by the stars in her eyes for one of our Pets.’
There was a series of noises that sounded like doors slamming, and suddenly the traffic sounds disappeared and the Boss’s voice seemed cocooned in soft silence. Today was Monday, so he was in a hotel room in Sweden. ‘Perhaps you’re right.’ He continued. ‘Perhaps we should ... pre-empt the situation for a while.’
She felt the tension between her shoulderblades loosen noticeably. ‘What did you have in mind, sir?’
‘Stella’s off to Portland in the morning. I can keep her there a few extra days, but not long enough to force her to cancel her weekend with Tino.’
‘Perhaps we could force the issue. Cancel it for her. You know, say Tino had something come up.’ O’Kelly moved to her desk and pulled up the Pet Shop website.
‘I’d rather not do that.’ There was the sound of running water and a rustle of cloth, and O’Kelly’s stomach clenched and skittered down below her navel. It wasn’t the first time the Boss had stripped for a long soak in the tub while they talked business. She suspected he’d done more than that on a few occasions when stress levels were high and they were both exhausted. It was a thought that brought back memories. It was also a thought she had endless fantasies about. At last he spoke, his voice echoing off what she suspected were bathroom tiles. ‘Let’s just send her another Pet.’
‘Of course, sir.’ O’Kelly pulled up the profiles of the male Pets, biting her tongue to keep from telling him she told him so.
‘We’ll send our apologies and let her have the weekend at the Pet Shop’s expense, of course.’
‘It’s all been at the Pet Shop’s expense,’ she reminded him.
‘Yes, but Stella doesn’t know that, does she?’ There was a splashing of water and the sound of waves hitting what she could imagine to be the sides of a bathtub.
Suddenly O’Kelly’s pulse sped up and she was aware of the clenching in her knickers. She couldn’t keep from picturing the man stretched out naked in what she imagined was a huge bathtub. Maybe he was absently playing with his cock as he spoke to her, a cock she had played with more often than she could remember back in uni. At these most intimate moments, moments that were somehow audibly acceptable to share when she would have never allowed it visually – not now anyway, now that they worked together – she indulged her fantasies, imagining him stroking his erection, cupping his balls, thinking of her.
She forced her mind back to the subject at hand. ‘So, who did you have in mind? How about Dan?’ Dan was a pretty-boy blond with icy blue eyes and broad, tanned shoulders. ‘He’s pretty popular with the ladies.’
The Boss grunted. ‘Dan looks like he came straight from the pages of a bodice ripper. I can’t see him and Stella together.’
‘Jack?’
‘A little bit too submissive for our Stella.’
‘Liam?’
‘I don’t know.’
She rolled her eyes and shoved her hands onto her hips. ‘Well who then?’
‘Hmmm ...’ she heard another shifting of the waters and felt her nipples tighten to press against her bra. ‘How about ... How about Audrey?’
O’Kelly nearly knocked over the tepid cup of tea at her elbow. ‘You want me to send Stella a woman?’
‘Why not?’ There was water running again, and she imagined him warming the bath, the water lapping at his thighs and buttocks.
Damn it! He wasn’t making it any easier for her to concentrate. ‘How about because there’s absolutely no indication that she’s attracted to women?’
‘O’Kelly, you told me yourself all women are actually bi, and men too. Most of them just don’t know it, you said. Well, it’s about time Stella embraced her inner bisexual, don’t you think?’
‘It’s more than that, sir. You always use Audrey–’
‘I always use Audrey for recruiting, yes I know.’
‘Well? Are you? Recruiting Stella?’
‘Possibly. Depending on how things go. It occurred to me the other day that actually putting Stella through the recruitment process for the Pet Shop might be a great way to observe our unknowing protégé in action. And there’s no better way to teach her the ropes.’ The water stopped running and it was replaced by dripping and splashing. He was washing himself, maybe with a sponge, maybe with a soft washcloth, down along his cock, over his balls. In spite of herself, she closed her eyes, held her breath, and listened. Almost of their own accord, her hips rocked very subtly, so subtly that anyone coming in to her office would have never noticed, so subtly that the friction being created was a slow burning whisper, a hint of total combustion to come. After she got home, she told herself. After she got home.
‘What do you think? O’Kelly? Are you there?’
She caught her breath. ‘I’m here, sir. I think it might be a good idea.’ Her pulse hammered in her throat and in her pussy.
His laugh overlaid the energetic splash of water. ‘What’s this, my partner actually agreeing with me? I can’t honestly remember the last time that happened. O’Kelly, are you all right?’
‘I’m fine, sir.’ Did she sound breathless? Oh God, she hoped not.
‘Are you still at the office? You are, aren’t you? O’Kelly, go home, take a nice long bath, have a glass of wine, get yourself a Pet. I think you could use one. You’re entitled. And stop stressing.’
‘Of course, sir. Shall I make the arrangements with Audrey then?’
‘Let me think about it a bit. We’ve got time.’ The splashing crescendoed again. ‘Now go home. That’s an order.’
‘You can’t give me an order. I’m your partner.’
The splashing stopped. ‘Then how about if I ask you as a friend.’
She caught her breath in a sound she knew was shamelessly audible on the phone, and she felt a lump rise to her throat. God, why was she so damned thin-skinned today?
‘O’Kelly?’
She steadied herself. ‘I suppose I could do it for a friend.’
She heard him release a heavy breath. ‘Good. I know for a fact Liam is available tonight, and you know how much trouble he can get into if he’s bored. I suggest you see to him and put him through his paces. It’ll be good for both of you.’
‘Oh, right. Liam.’ She shook herself. ‘Good idea.’
‘Good night, O’Kelly.’
‘Good night, sir.’
Chapter Nine
> IT WASN’T STELLA’S FIRST time in the States, or the Northwest. She considered it a very good omen that her first trip for Strigida was to such a lovely place. In a lot of ways, the Western part of Oregon was like a primordial England that had been picked up by each of its corners and stretched and tugged and expanded. Then after it had been given a hearty shake to rid it of too many people, it was snapped like a puzzle piece in between Washington and California to glisten in the veil dance of wet Northwest sunlight.
There was plenty of talk about nature and the great outdoors with Vanguard. Stella had done all the appropriate research, brilliant research even, but the internet could only take her so far. On the last day of her visit, Vanguard sent her on an impromptu field trip with Bob Paris, the resident biologist, so she could actually see the site that was to be reclaimed.
She rattled down the road hermetically sealed in Bob’s muddy Vanguard Land Rover. She thought it might have been green, but she wasn’t willing to wipe away the grime and risk muddying her mauve pencil skirt and matching jacket to find out. The need for clothes more suited for outdoor life had not been something she’d thought about when she came to work with Strigida, but she was beginning to see the wisdom in a pair of good walking boots and clothes that could withstand the rigors of the natural world. Her lack of such attire and the fact that there had been substantial rain the night before meant it would be a drive-through sort of tour, with Bob hitting the highlights of reclamation, pointing out a few of the local birds and a couple of deer browsing at the edge of a clear-cut.
‘The clear-cut will grow back on its own given time,’ Bob was saying as he pulled the Land Rover to the edge of the rutted excuse for a logging road and stopped so she could look. ‘Erosion is our main concern here.’ He nodded to the dark patch of heavy forest next to it. Tall conifers draped in moss and spiked with mistletoe looked like giant, pre-decorated Christmas trees. ‘That patch would have met the same fate had it not been for Vincent Evanston.’
If Bob hadn’t before, he certainly had her full attention now. ‘Vincent Evanston? You know him?’
‘Yep.’ He laughed under his heavy moustache. ‘Always preferred to spend his time with the birds and the beasties rather than with humans. Guess I’m a bit like that too, but then I wasn’t born richer than God like Vincent. He’s a strange one.’
‘Then he lives around here?’
‘Has all his life. Right on the other side of those trees there. Speak of the devil.’ Bob raised the pair of binoculars that permanently hung around his neck then gave a confident nod. ‘That’s the Birdman there. He spends a lot of time in these woods when he’s home.’
She fumbled with the spare pair of binoculars Vanguard had lent her, giving herself a hearty knock on the nose before she managed to get them focused. Her stomach did a flip-flop, then a pirouette. Even with her unsteady hand and the thud-thud of her heart making the scene tremble in front of her eyes, she knew she was looking at Tino, who was looking right back at her. She caught her breath ‘You’re sure that’s Vincent Evanston?’
‘Of course I’m sure. I’ve worked with the man often enough. Helluva naturalist.’
The butterfly dance in her stomach had moved up into her chest to do a mad mambo with her heart and suddenly she had to know. ‘Excuse me.’ She threw open the door. ‘I’m sorry but I have to go. I really need to talk to him.’
‘Wait! You can’t get out there dressed like that.’
She slammed the door on Bob’s objections and went slip-sliding across the road toward the man in the wood. Her kitten heels sunk in the pale mud with each step she took. On the other side of the road she found herself faced with a ditch full of fast-moving rainwater. It wasn’t that wide. She could have jumped it easily enough in trainers, but she wasn’t in trainers. She found purchase on a mossy rock and struggled to balance on the ball of her foot, but the rock slipped and turned beneath her sending her teetering with arms flailing before she sat down hard in the middle of the icy flow.
The gasp for breath and the high-pitched yelp barely passed her lips before he was on her, grabbing her beneath the armpits and pulling her to her feet with a heavy slurp and splorsh from her skirt, which seemed to be acting like a sponge. He half dragged, half carried her to dry ground and plopped her down unceremoniously on a mossy log. His curled fingers lifted her chin until her eyes met Tino’s dark gaze. ‘You scared the hell out of me. Are you all right?’ Tino speaking would have been shocking enough but Tino speaking with an American accent just seemed wrong somehow. She nodded, unable to reply.
He already had his BlackBerry out. ‘Bob, yes she’s fine. No, don’t worry, I’ll take care of her. Go on back to the hide.’ He slapped the BlackBerry back in his pocket and turned his full attention on Stella. This time it was not concern that filled his eyes.
‘What the hell were you thinking, out in the woods dressed like that?’
She was already shivering from the cold and the wet. ‘Guess the great outdoors isn’t my forte.’ She offered an apologetic smile.
‘Come on.’ He grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet. ‘My pack’s under those trees. Let’s get you into something dry before hypothermia sets in.’ But when she stumbled and nearly twisted her ankle in her now filthy mauve shoes, he cursed under his breath and lifted her as though she were weightless, causing her to gasp her surprise as he turned on his heels and headed back toward the pack.
She threw her arms around his neck and hung on tight, smelling wood smoke in his hair and on his plaid shirt, a smell that made her pussy tighten at thoughts of making love to him in the light of a campfire. They didn’t have far to go, just in the protection of the trees. There he eased her down on a huge stump and thrust a steaming cup of cocoa into her hand from a flask he’d dug out of a rucksack big enough that he could have used it for a tent. ‘Drink this. It’ll help warm you till I can sort out something dry for you to wear.’ He turned his broad back to her and began to dig through the pack.
She was trembling hard enough that is was an effort not to spill the cocoa. ‘You’re Tino, aren’t you?’ She spoke between chattering teeth.
His back stiffened slightly, then relaxed again as he continued to dig. ‘I’m Vincent.’
She sat the cup down next to her and hugged her arms around her shivering body. ‘I know you’re Vincent, Vincent Evanston, but you’re Tino. I mean, he’s you, isn’t he?’
He turned on her, grabbing her shoulders so quickly that she feared he would shake her. Instead, he began to chafe her arms, his dark eyes locked on hers. ‘I told you, Tino’s not here.’
‘But I–’
He swallowed up her words in an open-mouth kiss, taking her breath away, taking away her ability to think with the heat of it, the expressive depth of it. He bit her lip as he pulled back, still holding her gaze. ‘Tino’s not here,’ he repeated. His voice held the tiniest edge of warning. Then, as though it were business as usual, he bent and removed her shoes. ‘You’re lucky you didn’t break an ankle in these.’ He tossed them onto the ground and wiped his muddy hands on his trousers. ‘Afraid I don’t have an extra pair of shoes with me. Now lift your butt.’
‘What?’
He nodded to a non-descript wad of clothing now sharing her stump. ‘It’s not elegant, but it’s dry, now lift your butt. Or,’ the weight of his gaze was nearly physical, causing her heart to hammer and jerk like it was trying to get closer to him, or maybe run away from him, ‘if you’d rather, I can turn my back and let you do it.’
She released her breath slowly and lifted her arse off the stump, an act that in itself seemed lewd. He pushed open her jacket with warm hands and shoved up the edge of her silk blouse to unzip her skirt, exposing a swathe of her belly just above her navel. Then he curled his fingers around the waist of the skirt, catching the elastic of her knickers as well, and shimmied both down over her hips. His hands skimmed the lacy tops of her hold-ups, and for a second, she forgot about the cold. She reached out and raked her fingers throu
gh his unruly hair.
His breath caught in his chest, and he lowered his head to plant a warm kiss just below her bellybutton, lips burning on her icy skin. Then he pulled away all businesslike. ‘You’ll get hypothermia. You’re cold.’ The rush of his hot breath brushed her belly, causing gooseflesh to tiptoe up her spine.
She had little control over the trembling that gripped her body from the cold, and yet her insides squirmed with want as he inched the skirt down over her thighs leaving her hold-ups in place. ‘Please,’ she gasped between chattering teeth. How could she be so damn cold and so hot at the same time? ‘I need ... I need ...’
‘I know what you need.’ His voice was tight, accented by the heavy drag of his breath, much heavier than the expended efforts demanded. His dark eyes were clouded with a cocktail of emotions too complex for her to translate in her discomfort, but there had to be some anger and maybe some concern in the mix. The second kiss chased the descent of her skirt, lightning fast and humid on the apex of her gash, searing hot against the damp chill of gooseflesh, just above the place where her clit roused itself from beneath its hood. The delicious steamy shock of it unbalanced her and she dropped back onto the stump, her bottom settling into soft moss and her elbow sending the cocoa cup clattering into the fragrant pine straw.
He dragged her skirt down and shoved at it as though it had offended him somehow until it was in a heap around her ankles. Then he eased her left leg free, lifted it so her foot rested on his shoulder splaying her crotch for his hungry gaze. ‘I’m wet,’ she sighed.
‘You fell in a ditch.’ His fingers traced a ticklish path up the inside of her thigh above the hold-ups.
She squirmed and arched her back. ‘That’s not what I mean.’
‘I know what you mean.’ His words were short, clipped. He slid a thick finger between her heavy folds causing a sharp intake of breath. Then he rose to take her mouth again, forcing her leg forward, knee bent to press her thigh against her breast, making her pussy gape like a begging bird, making her bear down into the pillow of moss. ‘Please,’ she gasped. ‘I need ...’