The Barrett Brothers Collection

by K B Cinder

  “Yes,” he replied, avoiding eye contact.

  I hurried to the door, more than ready to climb out of the snake pit. I didn’t know what he was up to, but I didn’t like it.

  “Elena?” he called.

  “Yes, Marty?” I turned, catching him blotting his forehead with tissues, sweat pouring from him.

  “This chat stays between us, okay?”

  “Absolutely.”

  He padded the top of his balding head. “Not even Lee can know.”

  Now that was fishy.

  “Feel better, sir.” I wasn’t sure what was wrong with him, but I was desperate to get away. Contagious or not, he didn’t look well.

  I hurried out of there like a bat out of hell and grabbed a notepad and paper from my desk.

  “I have to sit in on something for Marty. I’ll be back, eventually.” I spouted it out for whoever, only Lee noticing. Monica didn’t look my way, focused on her cell phone.

  “I’ll hold down the fort,” Lee assured with a red blotch on her face from the impression of her phone.

  “Thanks, lovey.”

  I rushed to the conference room, not wanting to walk in after they started. I wasn’t dressed for an executive-level meeting, my gray skirt and pink cardigan looking more librarian than high-powered businesswoman, but there was no turning back. I took a deep breath and stepped in with my notebook and pen clutched to my chest.

  Jason sat at the head of the table, eyes immediately on me. “Elena?”

  He looked incredible in a black suit, an admiral blue tie and white button-down peeking from beneath. As usual, he was light years ahead of everyone else, others dressed in rumpled suits with cat hair and crumbs aplenty.

  “I’m sorry, sir. I’ll be sitting in for Marty. He has an appointment.”

  He rolled his eyes, earning laughs from around the room, a sea of middle-aged men all focused on me. “Gentlemen, this is Elena Julian. She’s part of our sales team and also well-versed in product management.”

  I grabbed the nearest open chair, sinking into the high-backed seat sandwiched between two men that didn’t know staring was impolite. I appreciated him not outing me as an assistant in front of our visitors, keeping my dignity intact. If they caught wind, I’d be treated like a ditz.

  “Elena, these are Croft’s other branch managers from around the country. None are as funny, personable, or handsome as the one you’re used to, so you’ll have to excuse their manners. If you need me to translate any caveman phrases, just ask. ”

  The room stirred with chuckles again, and the meeting kicked off. The conversation started light with basic overviews, a few bulleted lists sufficing for Marty. I was self-conscious to be the lone note-taker, but I was only doing what was asked of me. I doubted Marty would even read them, but I couldn’t come out empty-handed.

  Jason led the meeting with his usual steely calm, flashes of humor piercing the armor here and there. He was truly in his element, up to his elbows in figures that made my head spin, but he didn’t break a sweat. He was meant to lead, and when he hit Chicago, he’d be a force to be reckoned with. I couldn’t imagine how far he’d take the company, not that I planned to stick around to see.

  I sent off more applications that morning, one for a position in Boston and another for a role out of Montreal with a remote option, making the move back to Willits Bend possible. I’d have to hog coffee shop wifi until I found a place, but it would be better than staying at Croft.

  “Next up are product trends. Does anyone have buy-up suggestions for future stocking packages?”

  A thousand and one items came to mind, the backlogged expedites flashing before my eyes. The same lines I’d requested the product team buy more of to no avail. I’d been adding to a spreadsheet for years with hot items that no one wanted to move on.

  “Gaskets,” I called out, the only one speaking up. All eyes shifted my way, making me squirm under the attention. “Specifically those used in submersibles and ships.”

  “Any particular reason, Elena?” he asked, grabbing a pen to take notes, everyone else following suit. “Or the series?”

  “They’re used by both the Navy and shipbuilding companies. If Croft bought up a few price breaks, we’d get more bang for our buck, plus have stock available when calls come in for small orders. ”

  “Could you send me a list of part numbers?” he requested.

  “Absolutely. I have an open file I could send over. They’re expensive but usually needed on the fly.”

  “Why don’t we stock them now?” he asked.

  Hiring inexperienced people showed in our stocking practices, but I couldn’t say it out loud. I would privately, however. “I’m not sure, but we don’t have a product manager for the line, so you’ll have to ask Marty.”

  “We do now. It’s yours.”

  My heart leaped at his words, but I kept my mouth shut, not wanting to out myself at the table of testosterone. But I also knew Marty would freak. I was hired on a fast-track route to be a product manager but kept in an assistant position to play Jill of all trades for the branch, taking on duties outside the norm as needed.

  “Any other items?” he asked.

  “I have a whole list,” I replied, grinning.

  His blue eyes twinkled. “Of course you do.”

  I scribbled a note on a blank sheet to send him the file I’d been working on. “Just doing my job, boss.”

  The table stirred with laughter, all eyes flicking back and forth between us.

  “I like this chick,” chuckled a husky Southerner. “She ain’t afraid of ol’ Barrett.”

  “His bark is worse than his bite,” I quipped, blushing.

  Jason cracked a smile as the table hooted in delight again, eyeing me as the fire between us crackled along with the laughter.

  * * *

  After a marathon meeting stretching well past four, we escorted the men to the lobby for goodbyes, Jason leading the way as I kept my distance. I was hoping to slip back to my desk, the amount of work waiting for me likely astronomical. A quick wave should suffice. They were old friends while I was a literal sit-in.

  As soon as my heels hit the tile, he waved me over to assist in goodbyes, the scores of men rowdy with chatter after the lengthy meeting. I took a post at his side, keeping plenty of space between us as I shook their hands, smiling despite inappropriate compliments and surprise hugs. Each squeeze was more unpleasant than the last, and I wished I was quick enough to throw a handshake out before the first landed.

  As the last man headed out the door, Jason turned to me. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

  “Sure,” I murmured, clutching my notes to my chest. “I have a few questions to go over.”

  And did I ever. My work could wait compared to him throwing a promotion my way on the fly.

  I followed him down the long corridor, and as usual, each office door was closed. Ithaca’s management was hard at work or hardly working, though it always seemed to be the latter. It was a wonder the place survived long enough for Jason’s revival.

  He glanced over his shoulder as we neared his office, grabbing my wrist and hauling me in before shutting the door and setting the lock.

  “Not a good look, Jas-” I began, only to be silenced with his mouth on mine. He claimed me with a fierce hunger. It wasn’t the time or the place, but I couldn’t resist, our passion blazing right alongside the alarm bells in my head. We were seconds away from being exposed, a nosy ear pressed against the door all it would take to destroy us.

  “I’ve wanted to do that for almost four fucking hours,” he ground out, stepping back and breaking the spell. He turned on his heel and stalked to his desk, leaving me in a daze. “Are you going to come here or stand there like a statue?” he teased, realizing I wasn’t following him.

  I made my way over, extending the notepad toward him.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “Giving you the notes to review?” What the hell did it look like I was doing? Play
ing checkers? He was the one that just blew my mind with a make-out session in his office. Stupid much? He was earning well over six figures and had a hell of a lot more to lose. Like Dad always said, too much money made people reckless.

  He chuckled huskily, glancing over at the window before standing to close the blinds. “That’s better.” My heart pounded as he stalked to the lights, flicking them off. He came up behind me, grabbing my notepad and tossing it to the desk. “Be absolutely silent,” he whispered, hot breath feathering across my ear.

  Dad was wrong. Money made people reckless and stupid.

  “Ja-” I started, his hand suddenly between my legs, fingers snaking to find my entrance.

  “I said silence,” he ordered. He had me bent over in an instant, my hands clutching the aged wood as he hiked my skirt up and pushed my panties to the side, his cock entering in one long stroke.

  “Be quiet, and we’ll be fine,” he murmured. He was rock hard and oh-so-sensitive, muscles twitching as he embedded within.

  Once acclimated, he slid back and forth, each thrust faster than the last, staking his claim. This differed from the times before, my pleasure on the back burner for whatever he needed. He pounded in, spreading me wide and taking me fast, fingers digging into my flesh with each drive.

  There was no time to worry about alerting anyone, my breath hitching as he took me hard and fast. The oh-so-familiar knot was unraveling, the slightest bit of friction in the right spot all it would take.

  And there it was. Holy fuck there it was.

  He slid a finger between us and took me to paradise, my legs trembling with each wave of orgasm, my teeth clamped down on my lip to keep quiet.

  “This feels fucking incredible,” he muttered, grinding against me one last time before exploding.

  And like that, I was straightened, my clothes righted, a kiss pressed to my neck. “You’ll get yours later, just wait.” The last time he promised me that, Lee called me out on my cowboy walk the next morning.

  I was still reeling when he pushed me down into a chair, buzzing around the room to flip on the lights and unlock the door. “So about Marty’s notes...” he trailed, strolling over to flop in his seat, grabbing my notepad and glancing over it. “Nice... detailed.”

  I didn’t say a peep, trying to compose myself before stepping out. He hadn’t used a condom — not that it mattered. I’d been on the pill for years. Still, I needed to–ahem–clean up.

  “Are you comfortable handling those lines?” he asked. “I’m sorry that I put you on the spot in there. You seem to have a grasp of the market, and I trust your judgment.”

  I had more than a grasp. I had years worth of data and usage charts saved that no one gave a flying fuck about. “Oh no, it’s fine,” I replied. “I know it’ll take a little while to figure out, but I’m confident I can handle it.” Figuring out how to handle lines and my other work was something else entirely, but if it got sales assistant off my resume, I’d run with it.

  “That’s good,” he muttered, nodding as he skimmed my notes.

  There was a knock at the door, startling me out of the after-sex haze.

  “Come in!” Jason called without a care in the world, not lifting his eyes from my notes. As if he hadn’t just fucked me over his desk.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. Am I interrupting?” I didn’t have to turn around to know it was Monica.

  “No, no. Come in. Elena and I were just reviewing some notes.”

  Monica sauntered in and took a seat in the chair beside me. “Oh, hi, Elena. I didn’t see you there.” She offered a fake smile, twirling a lock of hair as she turned to Jason.

  I ignored her and remained focused on him, not giving her the reaction she so desperately craved. It had to suck to go through life needing conflict as a source of entertainment.

  “What can I help you with?” he asked, a pen pressed to a random line of my notes.

  “I wanted to talk to you alone about some things. I can speak more freely when Mr. Radwell isn’t around.”

  “I’m sorry, Monica. I’m busy and have another call shortly. Perhaps we can talk with someone from HR about whatever issues you’re having?”

  “But you’re talking to her,” she shot back, crossing her arms.

  “Because we just got done a national meeting. I have to review these with Elena for completeness.”

  “That takes two seconds. My issue takes two seconds too.” Her nose tilted high, and she crossed her legs for an added bit of dramatics, looking more like a child than a grown woman.

  “Then, let’s hear it.”

  “I want to talk to my manager,” she retorted, eyes on me. “Alone.”

  “I’m sorry, but Marty isn’t here. You’ll have to wait until tomorrow.” He wasn’t giving an inch.

  “You can’t be serious right now!” she snapped, flying to her feet. “You can sit with her and read a stupid notepad, but you can’t hear me out!?”

  “Please leave my office,” he said calmly, not flinching.

  “This is so unfair!” she hissed, storming to the door.

  “We’ll set a time to sit with Marty tomorrow to discuss it, Monica.”

  “That isn’t what I want!”

  “But he’s your boss, so that’s what you’ll get.”

  With that, she stormed off, slamming the door behind her.

  “You’re not in town tomorrow...” I trailed, knowing his schedule better than I’d like to admit. He had a customer meet in Albany.

  He shrugged. “Marty made that monster. He can deal with it.”

  Jason

  Please join us for the annual Great Lakes Military Electronics Exhibition in Buffalo, NY.

  Another invite rolled in, the third I received since noon. My schedule was filling up fast, visits across the region keeping me on the move. Most were day trips, though a few overnight stays were on the horizon.

  Business was booming, my exhausted contact list paying off in the form of new customers and, best of all, orders. If the figures were right, I’d exceed Corporate’s goal for the branch come January.

  It highlighted my need to hold interviews for an assistant when I went to Corporate, but none of the applicants looked promising. There was a lot of intern material in the stack, but no one that seemed capable of handling my problems.

  “How’s New York treating you, brother?”

  I adjusted the volume on my cell, Luke’s booming voice deafening, especially with the hot pain behind my ear, the daily headache arriving on schedule. He worked in the shop all day, so he still roared like he was talking over tools despite being tucked away in his office.

  “Same shit, different day,” I muttered, clicking send on an email agreeing to another customer appointment. Balancing my schedule was getting tedious. “Too much work and not enough play.”

  I was having plenty of playtime with someone, but not as much as I craved.

  “Nice to have a taste of the Northeast again, eh?” Luke chuckled.

  Oh yeah, I was liking my taste of the Northeast.

  I held back a laugh as I remembered Elena riding me the night before, her head tossed back in ecstasy as she made magic with each roll of her hips.

  “Something like that.”

  “How’s Ithaca?”

  The city was beautiful, but nothing like our hometown of Briar, a quiet coastal town that was the backdrop of every made-for-TV flick where arguments ended with a cheap bouquet from the corner store. Seriously. Film crews flocked the place once fall hit along with tourists who wanted a taste of the quaint vibes most native youths longed to flee.

  Ethan and I had long since left, but Luke holed up in Nan’s old bungalow, converting the waterfront property into his own whorehouse or bachelor pad, depending how your morals stretched. He was hellbent on rebuilding the Barrett name in the town, flipping off anyone who judged him. So far, he was pretty damn successful, opening an automotive shop that blew chain places out of the water and was closing in on opening a brewery.

  �
��It’s a great place for day trips on the weekend. There are tons of trails down here.”

  Elena and I traveled out of town on the weekends, visiting everywhere from the falls at Letchworth to Overlook Mountain three hours east of the city. We steered clear of town, heading far enough out to avoid detection.

  “And you can walk waterside without getting eaten by a goddamn alligator!” he laughed.

  I grinned. “That too, and I don’t get swamp ass from walking to my car.”

  Even during the summer, I barely broke a sweat, used to the sticky humidity of Florida. Ithaca felt like spring on its hottest days. Now that fall was kicking in, I was happy as a pig in shit.

  “Did you list the house yet?” he asked.

  My guts twisted at its mentioning. “I contacted an agent last week. He already has four buyers interested.”

  I loved that fucking house, but it was time. I was glad I didn’t have to clear it out, already moving most of my belongings into storage before I left. Everything else was offered with the place, other than the Porsche that I needed to sell when I flew back for closing.

  “Find somewhere to park your dick yet?”

  Always the blunt one, Luke’s question was a right hook to the jaw, throwing me for a loop. I hadn’t thought about having to lie to my brothers, but skirting around the truth wasn’t exactly lying. “You know me well, brother,” I chuckled, leaning back in my chair, the piece of shit squeaking as usual. I was throwing the thing in the dumpster on my last day. The new guy could figure out what he wanted and design accordingly. “I’ve found a suitable arrangement for now.”

  “Nice! As sexy as usual?” he laughed. “I know pickins’ must be slim, Runway.”

  I tensed at the nickname he and Ethan always threw my way. I’d earned it fair and square with a taste for models, but it never really bothered me until that moment. It felt so cheap. So childish.

  Luke was a bigger manwhore than I’d ever been, but I didn’t feel like pointing it out and stroking his ego. God knows it was big enough as it was. It amazed me he still found new toys to play within little old Briar.