Work For It

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Work For It Page 5

by Ashley Bostock


  Not just from her job, but her overbearing mother, who also happened to be her boss. Yes, that was a stupid decision she’d made when she agreed to work at the center. But fresh out of college, who could blame her? She hadn’t a clue what the real world was like, let alone working for the wicked witch of the east.

  Dylan cleared his throat like she was ignoring his presence. “Sorry.” By going to her room and hiding—because that would be exactly what she was doing—he’d run roughshod all over her and expect to get his way all the time. Plus, she had a new motto in life and that was to grab a hold of it and say yes to things. Welcome life into her life. “I’ll finish the game.”

  She ignored his Cheshire cat look as she perched on her side of the board game. Dylan sat across from her, still half-naked, and she put all her effort into not thinking about the way he felt when she so happily slid her hands across his stomach and through all that delicious hair. Oh, it’d been so long since she’d touched any man like that. Let alone a man who felt and looked as good as Dylan. She’d never been with a man who had taken such great care of his body. Not in the way he obviously did with his defined arms and chest. He had that muscle that dipped beneath the waist band of his pants in a shape of a V. Yummy.

  “Your turn.” He made it sound like a challenge, and Lina wasn’t sure if there was a deeper meaning behind those two words or if she should take them for what they genuinely were. Play the game, Lina.

  He owned Boardwalk and Park Place, but she managed to snag the entire row and corner before that, putting all her money into buying hotels, so she could easily bankrupt him. Two hours later and still no electricity, it had worked.

  He’d officially lost.

  “Are you going to call me Master, now?” She laughed.

  They stood, and he offered her his hand. “Great game, Master for Now. I think I’ll beat you. Two weeks together, Lina. I’m not sure how long you can keep winning. You’ll cave at some point.”

  Her palms sweat. Was he still referring to board games? She didn’t think so. She swallowed. “Well, good night. Do you want to walk me up and keep the flashlight?”

  “No. You take it. My phone will work. It has thirty percent battery left. Hopefully the power will be on by the time we wake up. You an early riser?”

  “Hmmm, no. Are you?”

  “Nope. Not while I’m here.” Dylan spread his hands out. “I’ve kept you up long enough. Good night, Lina.”

  She turned the flashlight on, making sure it passed over his eyes a second time. “Good night.”

  “Damn, woman! You are seriously trying to blind me. Hasn’t anyone ever taught you how to hold a flashlight?”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry. See you in the morning.” This time, she couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped her mouth as she turned to the stairs.

  She left him at the bottom and went to her room. She found her pajamas and even opened the bedroom blinds, hoping it would emit any light before she made her way back into the hallway.

  Dylan’s door was open, but she didn’t get the feeling he was in his room and didn’t want to purposely shine the light in there in case he was. He was already too sure of himself. Showing him that she was curious to his whereabouts would make his head even bigger.

  “Oh!” Lina’s hand went to her chest as a prickle of nerves shot through her.

  “Jesus. You scared the crap out of me, woman!”

  Dylan held a toothbrush in his hand, just inside the bathroom.

  “I just came to brush my teeth. I’ll come back.” Lina said.

  “It’s fine. There’s room for two.” Dylan stepped aside, giving her a choice to enter.

  Holy shit. This wasn’t exactly what she had in mind when she agreed to allow him to stay. “Um, no. I’ll come back.” She turned on her heel and went back to her room. She wasn’t ready for that yet but at the same time she was completely annoyed with herself because Dylan could obviously be an adult about it and she couldn’t. It was a little too much too soon.

  Long after she brushed her teeth and locked herself in her room, Lina lay in bed, acutely aware of Dylan’s movements in the room next to hers. As it was, the headboard of his bed was situated on the same wall as her headboard. So every jostle, every bump, every dip in the bed pushed the headboard slightly into the wall. And it was keeping her awake, imagining how he lay spread out in the bed. On his side, his stomach or back. What he slept in – just his briefs, athletic shorts…err, nothing?

  What was he doing? Was he laying there wide awake too? Was his rustling caused by a restless slumber? Or was he scrolling through his phone, like she would have been doing had the electricity stayed on and she’d been able to charge her battery. No. That wasn’t true. Since she left Phoenix two weeks ago, she’d hardly turned her phone on.

  A whole two times.

  The first time she was flooded with fifty incoming texts from her parents and co-workers as well as her brother—all the way from Key West—and after responding to him that she was taking a much-needed break, she checked her social media accounts and realized all too quickly that they were reminders of the life she left behind. She’d shut the phone back off.

  The second time she’d turned it on had been a similar version of the first time but instead of fifty repeated texts of where are you, come back to Phoenix, you deserve a raise, your father is worried, there were twenty texts from her mom. Brad told me he got ahold of you, why won’t you return my messages? And then they’d gotten repeatedly worse. From I can’t believe you walked out on me. How could you leave this company in the lurch? to finally, Lina’s favorite, You’re not getting your job back, if that’s what you think.

  Just thinking about that had her rolling her eyes. Rebecca Armstrong was about as clueless as a blind cow. Lina didn’t want her job back. She wasn’t going back to Phoenix. Not to live. Not ever.

  The headboard from next door patted lightly against her wall. Small, consistent vibrations that caused her to hold her breath and strain her ears. What was he doing? Ohmygosh, Lina. Who cares what he is doing. Go to bed. Sleep.

  The last thing she heard that night was Dylan clearing his throat on a cough before she drifted in and out of slumber for the remainder of the night. When she awoke in the morning, she hated the groggy way she felt and the fact that she hadn’t slept peacefully all night. Her blankets, half on her and half hanging off the bed, proved that she’d slept as restless as she felt with her mind never fully shutting down from thoughts of the cocky hunk next door.

  She glanced at the clock on her bed stand. Still no power. She listened for sounds of her roommate to see if he was awake yet. Hearing nothing, she snuggled back into bed, wondering what in the hell the two of them were going to do cooped up in the small condo all day together. Her thighs tightened together as her mind provided her with tons of naughty things she could do to Dylan that would keep the two of them busy.

  No real electricity required.

  Chapter Five

  Dylan hadn’t slept for shit all night. Millions of things were running through his mind, including Lina, but mostly work. New ideas were pushing through his brain while he’d slept—nothing concrete—but enough that he felt like he could almost grasp something, and then it would slip away.

  Lying awake now, he was pumped. None of his thoughts and ideas were fully formed, but day one at the cabin and he could already feel the promise of something new. This was what he needed. Inspiration and something to lift his spirits, slowly wedging him away from the stress of what had become his life.

  Lina.

  He listened for tells to see if she was awake. Hearing nothing, he turned his head to the alarm clock. No power. He hadn’t been worried about the lack of power last night, but going on roughly fourteen hours, it could become a problem if nothing came on soon. The condo was cold, and he knew it was in their best interest to keep the fire lit, so Dylan threw the covers back and pulled on his jeans to throw more wood into the pit.

  He tiptoed slowly past Lina�
�s room, her door closed. A strong indication that he was not welcome. He paused, wondering what she looked like behind that closed door.

  If his morning wood wasn’t enough, that mental image made him twice as hard.

  Shit.

  Realizing he was on the verge of being a creep as he stood outside her door, he headed to the bathroom and leaned against the counter. There was no way in hell could he take a leak that way.

  His mind was still fuzzy from sleep, but he swore he’d heard her name from somewhere. It was like his dream. Abstract strands of something that held promise, but still too far away that he couldn’t make sense of it. Couldn’t grasp what it was trying to tell him. Decidedly, he made a list of things to accomplish going in to the new day.

  Working out was obviously first on his list. Along with that, there was the blizzard and no power that he feared he was going to have to venture outside and see what he could figure out or at the very least, get a handle on what they were up against. Maybe they could snowshoe into town, find a quaint little bar...He was determined to figure out everything there was to know about Ms. Lina Armstrong and what and where she was running from. Along with all the other personal things he wanted to know—like why she wanted to fight their undeniable attraction and what he was going to have to do to win her over.

  Fuck. The bet.

  Thirteen days of sweaty, all-over the condo sex inside Pine Lake with her? Not gonna happen. Other ways to make her moan his name?

  Challenge accepted.

  He could mention the bet. I’ve abstained from sex for almost eight months but I have a tongue that can flicker like a motherfucker. Or was he going to have to work for it? Slowly feed her bits and bits of himself, break her down like a new army recruit until she couldn’t take the sweet seduction any longer and succumb to his devilish antics.

  Granted, he was still slightly annoyed that he had to share the condo with someone. But it wasn’t as bad as he got to know her. She didn’t know who he was, and she was cool. Now, if it was some other dude, Dylan would be happily looking for another place to stay.

  As it was, he was always up for a challenge. Dylan just needed to think of her as a new trainee who paid for his Dirty Gains programs, and he was good as gold. Start in small chunks, get her acclimated, then give it to her in short, hard bursts to build up endurance and finally, give it to her long and hard.

  And by it, he meant himself. He only had to last a week.

  The way her eyes glazed over when he almost kissed her in the kitchen last night, she wanted him. I noticed the way she was checking me out from the corner of her eye. While he had been admiring her perky, firm breasts, she had been admiring his V line. No doubt about it.

  He just couldn’t figure out what was holding her back. Ok, yes, he was a stranger, but everyone was at some point. When a person was attracted to someone it didn’t matter if they were a stranger. That was how it worked.

  It wasn’t like women to hold back where he was concerned. Women were never afraid to make themselves available or throw caution to the wind and take him up on his flirtatious behavior. He’d been with his fair share of women, but Lina was the first to ward off his advances, which made him want to try harder. Damn. Maybe it was the bet. Dylan was never one to lose a bet, but after Cole’s challenge that Dylan couldn’t go without sex for eight months – he was starting to realize what an idiot he had been. Maybe he couldn’t go without it for that long.

  There had been plenty of opportunities where he could have lost the bet, but to him it was more than the money. It was keeping his word. Yeah, he was an idiot for doing that, but he got through it. Worst seven months and three weeks of his life considering all the beautiful women he’d turned down while his friends laughed at him.

  He shuddered. He’d never make a bet like this again.

  Once he was adequately dressed to head outside and get his workout equipment as well as assess the blizzard situation, Lina came strolling down the stairs still half-asleep in form-fitting green flannel pjs. His cock immediately reminded him of its recent mistreatment as she stopped in front of him at the foot of the stairs. When had flannel gotten so sexy?

  “Where are you going?” she asked in a sleepy voice that he found utterly adorable. He could really see her cinnamon freckles in the light – the way they spread across the top of her nose and along her cheekbones. He found himself wanting to learn if she had more along parts of her body that he hadn’t seen.

  Yet.

  “I’m just going out to assess the situation,” he answered as he put some healthy distance between them.

  “It’s still blizzarding out.” Lina yawned.

  Dylan took in her sleep-tousled hair and buttoned top, making his way south to her luscious thighs. Shit. He ripped his gaze away from her thighs to the sweet curves of her hips and over her flat tummy, up to her chest.

  “Uh, what?” he asked.

  Lina tilted her head to the side, giving him a how sleep deprived are you look? “I said it’s still blizzarding out. See.”

  Dylan didn’t turn his head toward the window. He knew it hadn’t stopped, but he also knew that he couldn’t sit in here all day again without at least figuring out what was what. “I see. But I feel compelled to tell you that ‘blizzarding’ isn’t a word, sweetheart.”

  “It should be.” She leaned against the wall as if she couldn’t support her still-sleepy body with her still-sleepy, sexy legs. “I mean, look how easy it was for you to get what I was meaning.”

  He smiled. “Yes, maybe it should be.” How could he argue with the sleep-rumpled and cozy gaze she was giving him with those big blue eyes of hers. And those freckles. Damn.

  “Besides, I’m the writer of this group. I think that means I can make up my own words. Gotta get coffee.”

  Dylan groaned as he watched her ass sway into the kitchen. Coffee sounded great.

  “Damn it. We have no power!” she yelled from the kitchen, and he imagined her standing there with her sassy hand on her sassy hip while she stomped her foot.

  He held back a chuckle, finding humor in her and feeling sorry for himself that he forgot that he wasn’t going to be able to enjoy his morning brew.

  “I thought you were going outside?” She came into the room holding a small cup of orange juice. His stomach growled at the thought of food. He was sure he had a power bar in his bag, but that wasn’t going to sustain him for however long this blizzard was going to last.

  “I know you said you have food. But please tell me you’re fully stocked up for the both of us?”

  “I am. The nosy neighbor next door warned me that I needed to be stocked up at all times, especially when they warned of a blizzard.”

  “Amen, woman! Thank you.”

  “I hope you find something you like.” She eyed him over the rim of her glass as she sipped slowly on her orange juice.

  He gave her his best selfie look—one that was ‘post-worthy’—and smiled. “I’ve already found that.”

  Her eyes glazed with arousal and just as quickly as he’d witnessed it, it vanished. “Have whatever you’d like.”

  She headed back upstairs, and he figured he needed to get this show on the road. He threw on his snow gear and unlocked the front door.

  He was greeted with large falling snowflakes and wind that was blowing so hard, three inches of snow was already piled up inside the door.

  “Fuck.”

  His gaze drifted outward, trying to see anything beyond the swirling snow in his face. Okay, the situation was worse than he thought. It was as if God had come by and dumped a zillion buckets of snow directly on top of Estes Park.

  “Come on, Dylan. It’s not as if. He did just that.” Dylan could barely make out any vehicles in the parking lot as he held the door near-closed so more snow didn’t blow in. His face was officially a wind chill factor of negative twelve, and he was sure the saliva in his mouth was starting to freeze. Pine trees swayed dangerously back and forth, their limbs threatening to break und
er the heavy burden of the snow and beyond the snow-lined vehicles, he couldn’t make out his truck. He knew where it was, but it was covered in so much snow that he couldn’t identify it. Guess that was an effective no on retrieving his workout gear. At least for now. A major no for going out with snowshoes.

  Man, he needed that snowmobile. How hard would that be to get one delivered? With no power, there was no telling when the blizzard was going to let up or what the news was saying about it. He needed to send Cam another text and would have then, if his phone wasn’t dead.

  He shut the door all the way and pulled off his hat, gloves and jacket, leaving them on the floor by his boots near the front door. His stomach growled again reminding him that it’d been an awfully long time since he’d nourished his body. Too long. Generally, Dylan didn’t go this long without some type of food in his body. It was messing with his metabolism. Opening the cupboards, he found two boxes of Lucky Charms and a plethora of breakfast pastries. Oreos—ok he indulged on those once in a while—white bread, donuts, and oh, oatmeal. But upon further inspection found that the oatmeal was best if used three years prior to his arrival, so he chucked the box into the trash.

  This was what the woman ate? So many unhealthy treats. Lucky Charms? White bread? He suppressed an eye roll. There was no way he could put that stuff into his body. His body was a temple and needed to be treated as such.

  Praying that there were better things in the fridge, he held his breath as he opened it up. Milk. Juice. Some frilly coffee creamer stuff. Loads of that. He panicked. No eggs? He pulled open the crisper drawers. String cheese. Yogurt—the kind loaded with sugar. Some fruit. A random jalapeno and avocado. That wasn’t all bad but there were absolutely no eggs. What human didn’t eat eggs? Why were there no eggs? What was he going to eat? Lucky Charms?

  The thought made his skin crawl.

  He hadn’t had Lucky Charms since he was a kid. Did she at least have meat? Bacon?

 

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