A New York Minute

by Ember Leigh

  You give a shit about them, and it’s affecting your job. Shrewd business practice. How had he let this happen? Caring hadn’t been an active choice on his part, but rather an unintended side effect of knowing them. Maybe they’d turned over the Scrooge’s new leaf. Or maybe they’d infected him with something, and this was just the symptom of the disease.

  Whatever it was, Paige was the cause of it.

  Get over it. You didn’t get where you are by caring what others thought of you. Paige’s feelings don’t matter. You’re here to do a job. Do the job, Lambert.

  But what job did he even want to do anymore? He paced the room, farther from sleep than if he had Paige naked and hungry before him.

  That seven a.m. call to be on set would show up sooner than later, so he had to figure this out immediately. Close the book on the whole sorry story, and then he could continue as he’d always been—the Unstoppable Joshua Lambert.

  The root problem was that he cared about Paige. A lot. Way more than he actually even wanted to think about. He appreciated her on multiple levels—what she brought to the creative work environment, the possibilities that she presented in terms of future collaboration, her relentless, indomitable attitude, and the personal challenges she presented. Not to mention the fact that she’s smoking hot.

  Paige and Josh, a couple, a partnership. It would be completely revolutionary. They might be able to take over the world. And even if they didn’t…he’d still have Paige with him. Excitement prickled in his belly, made his chest swell, and he was actually grinning. Like a fool. What has gotten into you?

  He needed to focus. Be the unforgiving, practical Josh he’d always been. He had nothing with Paige aside from a loose agreement to fuck and a rapidly shrinking window of time together. What did he honestly expect?

  Her path would ultimately lead back to New York, and Josh was scheduled to…well, he didn’t exactly know what. The not knowing was a sinking boulder in his body. Thinking about the near future made all sorts of scary thoughts pop up, most involving breaking his contract and taking a plane ride of his own accord, for maybe the first time in his adult life. On his dollar, without IBC dictating the destination. Maybe the destination wouldn’t even be California.

  A knock interrupted his thoughts. His stomach plunged—please don’t be Bridgette, dear Lord in heaven if you are there, let it be anyone other than Bridgette—and he opened the door with a grimace, readying himself for either relief or illness depending on who was on the other side.

  A disheveled Paige greeted him, one eye squeezed shut against the light spilling from his room. An oversized T-shirt that read ‘Bedtime Expert’ hung to her thighs. She held out his wallet.

  “I thought you might want this.”

  His heart twisted, fighting the urge to scoop her into his arms and demand she spend the night in his bed. Be firm. Be distant. Cut her out of your mind.

  “Thanks, Paige,” he said, taking the proffered wallet. “It could have waited until the morning, you know.”

  “Well, I woke up and you were gone, and I saw this on the floor. I didn’t want you to worry.” She offered a smile, running a hand through matted hair.

  “I appreciate it.” He resisted the urge to hold open the door and let her in. “I left in a hurry when I woke up and realized my phone had been off for something like six hours.”

  “Bad idea for the big boss.” Her words were totally Paige, but they lacked her usual edge. “Did you have a million voicemails?”

  “Two million,” he clarified, gaze sliding over the T-shirt and down to the smooth slope of her thigh. “It’ll take me all night to catch up.”

  “You’re not sleeping?”

  “Well, I should. But I’m awake now and sleep won’t come for a while.”

  “You should drink some water while you’re up,” she said. “There was a lot of exertion on your behalf last night…you don’t want to get dehydrated.” She winked at him, tongue in cheek.

  He laughed. What would be the harm of letting her in? Maybe they could just lie together in his bed and tell ridiculous stories from their childhoods. About how much more precocious and accomplished they were than their schoolmates or the embarrassing things their mothers did when meeting the middle school significant others.

  “I’ll be sure to replenish my fluids.” He leaned closer to her, head clouding as he fought the urge to invite her in. Be firm. Be distant. He clenched his mouth shut, something loud buzzing between his ears. “Are you going back to bed now?”

  “Yeah. I’m definitely whooped. I’m actually not sure how I made it out of my room, to be honest.”

  “Well, it’s a long ways back to your room.” He nodded toward her door, which he could see from where he stood. “Do you want to just sleep here?”

  He held the door open, heart pounding in his chest as he awaited her response. What was he doing? Negating all the important decisions he’d made less than ten minutes prior, that’s what. It just felt so right.

  “Do you promise I can sleep?”

  “I promise.”

  “I need to be fresh for tomorrow, after all.”

  His stomach resumed its apprehensive churning once more. Now was not the time to bring it up. “Understood. I won’t lay a hand on you, if that will help.”

  “Well, we don’t need to take it that far,” she murmured, slinking into his room. He closed the door and dimmed the lights as she wriggled between the sheets and comforter.

  “Your bed smells like you.”

  “Good or bad thing?”

  She paused. “Good.”

  “It would be interesting if it smelled like someone else.” He drew the curtains shut, and when he turned, she was watching him, green eyes glinting like gemstones. “Like Gary, for instance.”

  She laughed. “That would bring up a lot of questions.”

  He wanted his bed to smell like Paige for as long as she would allow it. Though mentioning that to her might be too strong, especially since ten minutes ago he’d been talking himself into never letting her into his bed again. The wishy-washy, teeter-totter of his brain these days was not only irksome, it was frightening. Was the old Josh even in there?

  Apparently not.

  He tore off his shirt, arranging his phone and wallet on the nightstand before climbing into the bed. Thirty seconds of Paige in his sleeping space and he couldn’t keep himself away if he chained himself to the door.

  She blinked lazily, just a head framed by the white down comforter.

  “I thought you said you couldn’t sleep,” she murmured as he nestled in beside her.

  “I better try.” He kissed her forehead and then folded his arm under his head. “I think tomorrow is going to be a big one.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “No business pillow talk.” His body hummed with life so near to her, like a kitten in the bosom of its sleeping owner. “Go to sleep.”

  “Maybe I don’t want to now,” she whispered.

  Thoughts pinballed inside his skull, both titillated by Paige and boggled by how quickly she’d demolished his prior resolution. But he’d invited her in because he wanted her here. Going against his better judgment—the logical and sound business judgment—was frightening.

  “Don’t you need to be fresh for tomorrow?” He inched closer to her, making sure no parts of their body were touching yet.

  “That was just a joke,” she whispered. “I’m always fresh, no matter what I do.”

  He laughed, losing himself in her gaze. “I could look at you all day.” The words were accompanied by a strange thrum behind his ribs; the truth there scared him, felt more like an abyss than a relief. Paige rendered him both impotent and primal. Completely defenseless to her influence, yet a raging beast on the edge of devouring her.

  He traced two fingers down the curve of her jaw and up to her slightly parted lips. A bit of color found its way to her cheeks.

  “I wouldn’t mind,” she whispered, kissing the tips of his fingers. He dragged h
is thumb over her bottom lip, a familiar tingle sparking in his groin and then decided to stop before they whiled the whole night away in addition to the previous afternoon and evening. He found the dip of her waist and tugged her closer.

  “I had to stop because I’m afraid if I keep doing it, we won’t get any sleep. And I promised you.”

  “I understand completely. However…” She shifted against him, moved her thigh between his legs so that it pressed against his soft cock. “I can’t make any promises we’ll sleep.”

  With her fingers she tiptoed to the waistline of his boxers. When she looked up at him, all traces of sleepiness were gone.

  “Just what do you think you’re doing down there?” he asked, his dick twitching as her hands neared it.

  “Dessert.”

  “I’m shocked either of us have the energy for more.”

  “Me too.” She winked at him, hands disappearing beneath his boxers. Smooth fingertips fluttered up and down the shaft of his cock, coaxing his dick to reach its potential. She made a small noise of pleasure.

  “In fact, I’m already feeling like a repeat of the entire day.” She sat up and tore off her T-shirt. Her breasts hung heavy and round, nipples already two tight points. She inhaled sharply as he sucked at each one, teasing them with his teeth before laying back down.

  “Sorry, babe,” he said. “This is your turn. I won’t interrupt.”

  She smiled at him and tore back the covers. His hard-on tented his boxers and delight lit up her face. She eased his underwear off and left a trail of wet kisses all around his cock without touching it. He tensed, unable to look away. How was it that a mere twenty minutes after his resolution, Paige was giving him head in his room?

  His thoughts disappeared as her tongue traced the seam of his ball sac. Pleasure jolted through his body. His cock twitched taller after that maneuver, and she followed it, trailing her tongue up the length of him, all the way to his sensitive slit. Tension mounted from deep within. How could he have the energy for another orgasm? He couldn’t count how many times he’d come today—apparently there was room for another.

  Paige took him in her mouth, all the way in until his dick touched the back of her throat.

  “Jesus, Paige.” He gasped as she pumped him with her mouth, the suction just right and her tongue making torturous dances up and down his length as she worked. “That feels so fucking good.”

  She fondled his balls with one hand, her other hand pumping the base of his cock. Her lips were like silk on him, pushing him nearer to the edge. She slowed her pace suddenly to drag her tongue wide and flat and up his cock and then devoured him once more. He groaned, tangling his fingers in her hair as she continued.

  “You can’t get enough,” he choked out as she sucked him faster, harder. He was close, already. The woman worked magic, in all possible ways. His body was far more youthful and capable than he had ever given himself credit for, especially in the area of semen production.

  She sat up, her mouth making a pop noise as she disconnected from his cock and licked her lips. She grabbed his dick, stroking the length of him. He jolted as her thumb rubbed over his head, and then she looked back at him with fire in her eyes.

  “You’re right. I can’t get enough, Josh.” She wiggled out of her underwear and threw it across the room. “I want to sit on it.”

  She straddled him before he could say anything, and her hot, wet pussy crashed down around him. They both groaned as she took his length inside her, his cock stretching her for what had to be the hundredth time that day.

  He laughed as she settled on top of him, knees bent back behind her. “Am I dreaming?” he gasped out as she started riding him. He grabbed her ass, big handfuls in his palms as she rode him.

  She rocked up and down, smiling at him, her breasts bouncing. He squeezed his eyes shut and threw his head back, voice sticking to the back of his throat as he neared the edge. “Paige, I’m so close,” he said, voice desperate and choppy. “God damn…”

  She bucked against him, breath coming out in quick gasps as she pounded him to climax. He clutched her to his chest as he came; round after round of explosive cum shooting through him as she fucked him relentlessly, even after he’d drained himself of all he had to give.

  She finally slowed her movements, her body slick beneath his grip. She watched him for a moment, chest heaving. “That felt nice,” she purred and then planted a sloppy kiss on his lips.

  He hardly had the energy to respond—a sex tornado had just gone through his life and no matter which way he looked, he was orgasming. “A little more than nice.” She was still on top of him, his now-softening dick inside her as they regained their breaths.

  He rubbed his hands over her spread ass cheeks, down her thighs, and then up over her breasts. Her nipples stood alert before him. He took one in his mouth, flicking his tongue back and forth over it. She inhaled sharply.

  “We shouldn’t move,” he whispered, kissing each nipple softly. “Because that way we’ll be ready for the next round in ten minutes.”

  She laughed, eyes drifting shut as his kisses continued. “Why can’t I control myself around you?”

  “I was wondering the same about me.” He licked each nipple, and without thinking, his hand went between her legs and found the slick nub there.

  She inhaled sharply, rocking against his hand.

  “See?” He rolled his thumb over her clitoris, and she mimicked his movements with barely perceptible pelvic rotations. “God damn, Paige, you kill me…”

  Her eyes smoldered on him as he pleasured her. “Would you believe me if I told you I couldn’t orgasm again today?”

  He laughed. “I would believe it. I don’t know if I’ve ever had so much sex in one day.”

  “Not even in my wild days,” Paige said, climbing off him, “did I have so much sex.” She tugged her T-shirt over her head and snuggled under the covers.

  Josh slipped his boxers on and rejoined her. “Now we should sleep. Really.”

  “I agree.”

  “No fondling under the covers,” he said, feigning sternness.

  “I promise.”

  “No loose nipples or roaming hands, either.”

  “Agreed.”

  “I better not wake up with your mouth around my dick.”

  She laughed. “No promises there.”

  He pressed his lips to her forehead and laid his head on the pillow, hand finding the dip in her waist once more. Pleasure strolled leisurely through his body, would probably still be meandering through the neighborhoods of his person until the morning or even next week. The woman was incredible, unpredictable, and stronger than anyone he’d ever met, with a sexual appetite he’d have no problem satiating.

  As he drifted off to sleep, a thought hung invisible yet heavy in the back of his mind; he resoundingly, without a doubt, wanted Paige in his life, in any capacity—no matter the cost.

  ****

  Somebody pounded on the door.

  Paige’s eyes snapped open and for a moment she was confused—it looked like her room, but everything was backward, and her sleep mask wasn’t on her face. She sat up, bunching the covers around her. A groggy Josh rose to his feet.

  “Coming,” he said as he stumbled to the door. Paige held up her hands before he opened the door, mind struggling to determine if this really was a dream or not. It certainly had all the markings.

  “Wait. Wait a second. Do you really want whoever it is to find me in here?”

  He paused. “They won’t come in. I won’t let them.”

  Josh’s speech patterns were normal; there were no dreamlike swirls or mutations happening anywhere. That body of his…that was all real. “I’m half-naked in your bed, remember.”

  “You think I’d forget about that?” The person pounded on the door again. “Listen, they won’t come in. I promise.”

  He opened the door a crack and peered outside. “Yes?”

  “Jesus Christ, Josh, get your white ass downstairs!” I
t was Gary, and panic had cracked his voice as he said ass. “I heard you were going to be on set at seven a.m. It’s after seven-thirty now, and you-know-who is pitching a freaking fit.”

  Josh groaned and walked away from the door, burying his face in his hands. His thighs were thick and strong, dark hair sprinkled moderately. His boxers clung nicely to his ass, and she loved the way his abs flexed and contracted as he rested his hands behind his head and paced the room. Even when he was stressed, he was sexy as hell.

  “One more thing, buddy,” said Gary, still outside the room, “Miss You-Know-Who is gearing up for hosting this morning, and she’s on a mission to create hell for anyone who breathes near her. What’s the deal here?”

  Josh stopped pacing as Paige gasped from the bed. “What?” The word had popped from her lips like an unexpected fart.

  Josh’s eyes widened. Gary stepped into view, looking flabbergasted as his eyes landed on Paige in Josh’s bed.

  “Oh, this is rich.” He gestured to Paige. “What are you doing here?”

  “It doesn’t matter.” She threw back the covers, standing. “What was the last piece of interesting news you shared?”

  “Ah, yes.” Gary swung his head back toward Josh who had paused by the window, hands still locked behind his head as he stared toward the ocean. “Maybe we should just ask the boss—who is hosting today?”

  Josh was quiet for a moment, letting his hands fall to his sides. “Bridgette is.”

  “What?” Her voice came out more like a shriek than she’d intended, and she turned to him for confirmation. Maybe she’d misinterpreted something, or he had some incredibly redeeming piece of follow-up information he’d forgotten to share.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Gary said, voice low. “You’ve got this incredible talent here.

  Paige nodded, arms folded across her chest.

  “Who was not only born for the spotlight but practically invented the spotlight…and you put Bridgette back on hosting?”

  “Gary, listen…”

  “Oh, please, I’m more than happy to listen to whatever information you have to share,” Gary spat. “Lest I remind you, Paige’s contract is for hosting a daytime talk-show which, last I checked, was nowhere near being fulfilled on this island. If you think we’re gonna stay here much longer, you’re out of your mind. I will find a way to get Paige out of this contract.”