by Joya Ryan
The hint of threat in my father’s voice was something I’d never heard before. A chilling fear crept up my throat. He was playing dirty, and I was trying to stay strong, especially with everything that had happened recently.
No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stomach the idea of Brock, much less the sight of him. Getting him as far away as possible was appealing. Part of me was finding strength, while the other part had regressed three years in the past few weeks. I hadn’t had paranoia or a single panic attack in a long time. Now with Brock being back, I only prayed the nightmares didn’t start up again too.
I looked at my father. The one man in a girl’s life she should always be able to count on, and for the first time, I had no idea to what level he’d stoop to get what he wanted.
“I can’t do lunch today,” I said.
The smirk he unleashed was paired with renewed anger. His ears were turning red from the inner rage he was fighting. “Some other time then,” he said through gritted teeth.
He turned and walked out. Whatever kind of trouble he was in, or Case-VanBuren was in, I didn’t know. But what was clear was that I wasn’t free from whatever shadows were following my father. Problem was, he was casting his own shadow over me as well, and the sickness in my gut twisted.
How much trouble was he in?
~
My phone lit up with a text from Jack: Meet me downstairs now.
I glanced around my cubicle. It was four o’clock, still another hour or so to go before work was over. My floor manager was nowhere in sight, though.
“Hey, Edith?” I said, looking over her wall.
“Yeah?”
“I can’t find Devin, will you let him know I’m taking my last break?”
“Sure,” she said.
I locked my purse in my desk, and hustled down to the lobby. I had ten minutes, fifteen if no one noticed. Jack was nowhere to be found. Then I saw his town car across the street. At least, I was pretty sure it was his. The windows were so tinted, they looked black, and I couldn’t see who was inside.
Taking my chances, I walked over and the back door opened.
Jack was inside. I slid in, and he locked the doors. The partition was up, giving us privacy from the driver. Jack’s mouth was on my mine in record time.
“Well, hello to you too,” I said between kisses. He undid the first few buttons of my blouse, enough to tug my bra down and expose my breasts. He latched on immediately.
I gasped and threaded my fingers in his hair. Outside the car, a few people passed, never the wiser as to what we were doing, thanks to the tinted windows. It was thrilling, though. Rounding second with only a pane of glass between us and the real world. But that’s how Jack affected me, he simply took me to our world.
“It’s a busy week,” he rasped, and sucked hard on my nipple. “Meetings,” nip, “calls,” lick, “but I needed a taste of you.”
We only had minutes. Between my break and Jack’s obviously busy schedule, I loved that he made time for me. That he seemed addicted to me the way I was to him.
“How about more than a taste?” I said breathlessly and fumbled with his belt. I shoved his pants down, his cock springing free. He pulled a condom from his pocket and handed it to me without taking his eyes or his mouth from my body. My skin was buzzing, my core drenched just from his mouth on my breasts.
As I sheathed him in the condom, he hiked up my skirt to my waist, and peeled my panties off. When I went to straddle him, he stopped me.
“We need to do this carefully, baby, unless you want everyone to see the car rocking?”
I bit my lip and shook my head. “Probably not a good idea.” I was the one who’d have to climb out of the car afterward.
“Then, once I have you in position, you are going to stay still, do you understand?”
“Yes.”
Jack adjusted so he was sitting in the middle of the seat. Thank God for spacious cars. With his cock out, yet clothed otherwise, he spread his arms along the back of the headrests, and stared at me. He looked like some kind of corporate sex god, and I was ready to go to my knees to please him.
“Come here,” he said. “I want you to sit on me, take my cock deep in one slide, and stay just like that.”
I nodded and moved to do as instructed.
“But,” he said, with a wicked glint in his eye, “I want your back against my chest.”
I frowned for a moment, then the position he wanted was clear, and I did as he asked.
With my back facing him, I moved to sit on his lap. With his legs between mine, his outer thighs brushing my inner thighs, I straddled him. The heels I wore today gave and extra four inches, which I needed so my feet could touch the floor. I thought I’d heard Harper refer to this position once as reverse cowgirl.
He peppered kisses along my nape and shoulders, and I reached down to position his hard cock at my entrance.
“Good,” he said, when the tip nudged my opening. “Now, sink all the way down, and watch as you do it.”
I did. The leather seat squeaking as I wiggled, adjusting to accommodate him. I groaned at the full feeling of him impaling me.
“Fuck, you feel good,” he rasped. “Now, relax, baby.”
I leaned back against him, my head resting on his shoulder and my face nuzzling in his neck. I kissed along his throat, his ear, his jaw. I sat there with him deep inside me, taking a moment to appreciate the connectedness.
“Stay still,” he reminded me.
“Okay.”
With that, he cupped my sides in both hands, and thrust deeply.
My eyes widened, but I remained still. Jack pistoned in and out of me so fast and hard that I almost came instantly. We’d gone from being slow and still, me within his vise grip, motionless, as he fucked me with fervor.
With just his hips working up and down, the car made little movement. He clamped one arm around my waist, while the other slid down and rubbed my clit.
“Oh, God.” I laid against him, helpless to do anything else but stay still while he conquered my body. My thigh muscles burned from holding the position. Still. I would do as he said. It was a drugging feeling, being totally taken over and pleasured while I sat there, allowing it. Letting him. Feeling nothing but him.
“Come for me, baby.” He fucked me harder, rubbed faster.
My body responded immediately, shuddering violently, coating his cock with my release so that he slipped even faster and easier in and out.
“That’s it,” he rasped, his hold tightening on me as he followed me over the edge of bliss.
He languidly rubbed my clit, drawing out every ounce of pleasure until I couldn’t sit still. He slowly pulled out of me. He trailed his lips from my neck to my arm as I moved and sat next to him. I adjusted my clothes as he took care of the condom.
He zipped up his pants and refastened his belt.
I reached for my panties on the floor, but he snagged them before I could.
“I’m keeping these,” he said, and put the lacy undergarment in the inside pocket of his jacket.
“You can’t expect me to walk around with nothing beneath my skirt for the rest of the day.”
“That’s exactly what I expect. Because I’ll be walking around with the scent and smell of you on me for the rest of the day.”
I kissed him. Long and deep and hot. Jack did things to me that I couldn’t explain. He made me feel like a wanton. This may have been quick, but it left me feeling whole, not cheap. We stole moments where we could.
“Thanks for making time for me,” I said quietly.
“I always have time for my priorities,” he said.
I opened the door and made sure he caught a glimpse of my ass before climbing out of the car and adjusting my skirt.
“You’re a wicked tease,” he said.
I looked at him through the open door, loving the sight of him just pleasured. By me. Pride and so much happiness flooded through me.
“Maybe. Guess you’ll have to visit me
on my next break to see how bad of a tease I really can be.”
“Sounds like an enticing invitation.”
I shrugged and smiled. “Enjoy the rest of your day, Mr. Powell.”
~
The week dragged on, mostly because I didn’t get to see Jack much. A few calls and texts were better than nothing. After our quickie a few days ago, he made a point of staying in touch. Yesterday, he stopped by again, but it was so brief, I got one amazing kiss in before he had to go.
It was torture and I missed him.
After our breakthrough last Sunday night, I was feeling better about the direction of our relationship. And that we officially had one. A weight had been lifted from both of us, and we were moving on. Together.
“You think the big boss man will take you to the UK with him?” Edith said, hovering, as usual, over my cubicle.
“Excuse me?”
Her judgmental gaze could have melted flesh. “I know what’s going on. The way you sneak out of here. I saw you get out of Jack Powell’s car the other day, looking…” she gave a disgusted expression, “tousled.”
Heat lit my face and embarrassment took over. This was one thing I wanted to avoid. But the details of what she said made another emotion rise: anger.
“Did you follow me?”
“You left in such a hurry, it was obvious.”
“No, you said you saw me get out of Jack’s car. So you would have to have followed me down to the lobby and watched where I went.”
“Don’t flatter yourself. You’ve been acting weird, and it shows in your work.”
“You aren’t my superior.”
“Clearly. You treat your superiors much differently.”
That made bile rise in my throat. I was defending Jack and our relationship. But I was done being pushed around.
“You know what? My personal life is none of your business.”
She scoffed and mumbled a less than flattering name for me, as she walked back to her cubicle.
“He’s leaving the country to open the new resort, you know.”
I stared at Edith. I did know that a new one was opening, and figured Jack would be traveling, but surely nothing long term. Whatever Edith’s problem was, I didn’t want a part in it. It was clear from day one that she had a thing for Jack. I had a short time left of this job and summer to get through, then this would all be behind me and focus shifted back to where it should be. Moving forward with my life, in every sense of the word.
With Jack.
My father, Edith, or a busy schedule wouldn’t get in the way of that.
Chapter Eighteen
I jammed my key into my front door and unlocked it. It had been a long week, and thank God it was Friday. Maybe Jack and I could spend the weekend together.
I set my purse down, tossed my keys on the table, and stalled.
I glanced around my little house. It was dark. Harper wasn’t home, but a chill raced up my spine, because everything looked off.
“Hello?” I called out, staying by the doorway. No answer.
I took a deep breath and looked around. Paranoia was getting the better of me. But there were subtle things that weren’t right. My home felt like it’d had company, yet no outward signs would show that. Except for the rug by the door. Normally straight, thanks to Harper’s allergies to crooked things, it was off. Like someone had walked along it after we left this morning. The accent pillows on the couch didn’t look right either. I could have sworn the yellow one was on the left this morning.
“Hey,” Harper said, walking up behind me, and I jumped and screamed a little. “Whoa, sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” She looked at me, then at the dark house. “Were you going to stand in the doorway all night?”
“Does the house feel off to you?”
Harper frowned and took several steps in, turning on the lights. “No. Why?”
I shook my head. “I feel like someone has been here.”
“Was the door locked?”
“Yeah.”
Harper quickly checked the windows, no break in, nothing stolen. “Everything looks fine to me.”
I took a deep breath. “I just feel like I’m being watched, or someone is messing with my life.”
Harper faced me and cupped my shoulders. “How long has it being going on this time?” she asked gently.
“What do you mean?”
“The paranoia, Lana. It’s getting worse. Are you having nightmares or panic attacks too?”
“No,” I cut myself off. “Well, a small attack recently, but there was a lot going on.” I had told Jack something personal, tied with my father and his annoying nonsense. “I’m just not feeling great. But, maybe I am a little paranoid.”
“Which you have every right to be. Brock is back in town. I’d feel shitty too. The guy is creepy, and with everything going on, I’m not surprised.”
“Maybe you’re right.” Maybe I was just being paranoid because Brock was so close and I knew it. I also knew things with my dad and the company were not going super great. But I still couldn’t shake this feeling that someone was messing with me on purpose. Subtly leaving a trail that I wasn’t invisible and I was on their radar.
“I’m sorry, I’m not trying to discredit your feelings,” Harper said, and took out a pot to boil water for dinner. “Have you noticed anyone snooping around? Brock hasn’t shown up anywhere near you, right?”
“Only by accident, it would seem.”
“Maybe that’s it. He’s in the same city now, works for your dad for Christ sake. Maybe it’s that feeling like you could bump into him at any moment, and your lack of control in the situation is making you nervous.”
That did make sense. “Yeah, I’m sure that’s it.”
“I’ll just pay better attention to things,” I said softly. This kind of unease could drive a person crazy. “Why can’t he just go back to where he came from?”
Harper shrugged. “Hopefully, he will. Your dad only needs him here until they land a new client, right?”
“Yeah.” Could I last that long? Already, my mind was playing tricks on me, making me feel increasingly worried and scared. I hated this so much. It was the same terror that I had battled as a kid. Lying in bed and waiting. Wondering if he was going to sneak into my room again. Wondering if he’d show up out of nowhere and wreck my life. Just waiting to be destroyed.
I felt instantly sick. It was the shadows, not the darkness, that terrified me. Because you never knew what or when such things would emerge.
There was one thing I could do to speed Brock’s departure from Denver along. But that involved setting Jack up with my father’s company and giving in to the notion that I was letting myself be used. And using Jack for my own gain. Which I’d never do.
I just wanted Brock gone.
I was tired of second-guessing everything in my life, waiting for the bad stuff to happen.
“How can I help?” I asked Harper, and headed into the kitchen, determined to get these thoughts out of my mind.
“You want to cut up some veggies for the salad?”
“Sure.” I got all the stuff from the fridge and started putting together the salad on the bar, while Harper manned the pasta and sauce at the stove.
“Aren’t you leaving for your week off tonight?”
“Yeah, I was going to pack and eat, then take off. I’m excited to get away from this town for a bit.”
I nodded.
“So, how are things going with Jack?” she asked.
“Good,” I said. “I feel like a teenager most of time, all giggly and checking my phone to see if he called.”
Harper nodded. “Yeah, the honeymoon stage is the best. You seem happier.”
“I am. This last week has been different. Like we finally opened up enough to each other and are moving forward together.”
“Wow, sounds like you’re getting serious about the boss man.” She smiled.
I nodded, and the truth hit me. I froze mid-cut into a carrot. “I thin
k I’m falling in love with him.”
Harper faced me. “Be careful.”
“Why would you say that?”
“Because a man like Jack doesn’t look like the long term kind.”
“You don’t even know him.”
“I know his type.”
“I’m sick of this. You tell me all the time what’s wrong with me, what and who is bad for me, and you don’t even know him.”
“I’m just trying to help. I worry, and don’t want you to get hurt.”
“I’m a grown woman. And I care about Jack.”
“I know you do, but all the bad habits are starting up again.” I stilled, and so did Harper. “You think someone is messing with you. You’re getting paranoid and had a panic attack.”
“So, you think I’m making this up?” Hurt stuck in my lungs. “Do you think my mind is getting the better of me?”
“I just think that you’re under a lot of stress with Brock being back and, yes, it can mess with your mind.”
My chest felt tight and wanted to fold in on itself. “I don’t have proof, but I really think something isn’t right. Someone is messing with me.”
Harper just looked at me with that pity expression, and it tore my soul in two. She was discrediting me.
“Just be careful,” she finally said. “You are going down a path you worked really hard to get off of, and now you’re dating a guy that requires a lot of emotional stamina. He has a world that is different from ours.”
“What does that mean? Because he has money and owns resorts?”
“That’s part of it. Jack has a reputation and persona that comes with success and money. Other people, including women, will sniff that out, and you are…”
“Naïve.” I finished for her.
“It’s smart to question what someone stands to gain from you. And trust?” She scoffed. “You don’t just hand that out.”
“I don’t.”
“You did with Jack. Hell, you even cozied up to Cal at the beginning of summer.” That stung. Just in how she said it.