by K. C. Ale
“Riiight.” Mr. Hawkes needs to google discretion. “Hey, you know Carlson, right?” I ask and step aside on the pretense of reaching for the lunchbox. Carlson’s skin deepens more until Bull might mistake him for a fire hydrant. “He works for Mr. Hawkes.”
Gaze dropping away, Suzy bobs her head once.
How cute! They’ve got matching blood tone.
“Carlson was just telling me he’s on his lunchbreak. He looked so alone, so I stopped by to say hi, but I can’t stay. Right, Carlson?”
He mutters something in another language because no one can make it out.
I roll my eyes. Dude, I can’t even…
Evidently, Suzy speaks another language, because she responds, “Thank you, Carlson.” She waits hopefully for him to say something else. When there’s nothing, she drops her gaze in disappointment. “I better go. Enjoy your lunch.”
I wait too… for us to be alone before I smack him upside the head. Not hard, but he got the point.
“What the fuck!” He glares at me while rubbing his big ass head.
“Oh, now you speak? God.” I shake my head in exasperation. “That was the most pathetic thing I witnessed this month. Here.” I thrust the lunchbox at him. “Take it. A thoughtful someone made me lunch. I hope that thought included a cookie.”
Despite his grumpiness, I catch him biting back a smirk.
There are two emails waiting for me when I finally make it back to my desk. I’m no prom queen, so two is a wonder.
Both are from Todd Jansky.
I have less than an hour to go in my shift, and Mr. Jansky very well knows that since I emailed my schedule to him.
Guess I’ll be spending that whole time helping IT reorganize its equipment storage room, chasing people for their lunch order for yet another meeting tomorrow, and checking the expiration dates on all the employee free snacks in the kitchen.
Twenty-two
Brad
I tried to be gentle, I really did. Gemma was a virgin just yesterday, for fuck’s sake. Only someone needs to remind her of that fact.
She’s got all ten fingers digging into my ass, urging me without words to go deeper.
So deeper I thrust.
Oh fuck. That’s good.
I’m so glad she’s not a virgin anymore.
She’s moaning, her head thrashing. Yes! Yes! Yes! Nails scrape up and claw at my sweaty back. She’s gripping my dick so good I think I might pass out.
“Gemmy,” I groan against her temple. “Oh fuck you feel so good.”
I do lose consciousness for a few seconds. In utter fucking ecstasy.
This is it.
This is it.
I’m going to die with that stupid grin on my face.
One last groan and I flop on top of Gemma, my lungs burning with sweet agony. I don’t know how long I’m out – just mentally poof – but the next thing I know Gemma’s body is shaking beneath me, her delightful giggles filling my ears.
Lazily propping myself up, I gaze down at her grinning face. “I know you’re new at this, but no man wants to hear laughter after fucking.”
She lurches up to give me a quick kiss. “You’re funny, Brad Hawkes.” Her eyes stray down to where we’re still joined. “You weren’t dying, but I took it as a compliment. You kept repeating, ‘I’m dying. I’m dying,’” she explains at my confusion.
“I was pretty sure you were killing me there.” Easing out of her, I keep one hand on the rubber. “Let me take care of this.”
The deed in the bathroom only takes a minute, unlike yesterday when I had to discard the condom with extra care, not wanting Gemma to accidentally see the small traces of red smeared on it.
When I’m back in the room, Gemma is on her side snuggled cozily beneath the blanket. I slide in behind her. “So how was your first day?”
She hesitates, then half turns briefly to brush her lips against mine. “Good. Thanks for the boxed lunch.”
“Which you didn’t eat.”
“How did you know?”
“I know everything.” I chuckle at the dainty elbow at my side. “Carlson told me. How else?”
“Does he tell you everything?”
“Pretty much. I know he packed you a lunch, but I thought you might want more than macaroni and cheese.”
“Don’t forget the chicken soup.”
“I’m glad your throat is better.” I bring her closer to nuzzle her neck. “Um, you always smell so good.”
Shifting to face me, she gives me a smile, soft and intimate. Her eyes are dreamy, beautiful in their fiery glimmer. A fire had always burned in Gemma. Even sluggish and sated, she has an inner glow I can practically reach out and touch.
Something in my chest bumps and jumpstarts.
“The first time I met you,” she starts with that exquisite smile tugging at her lips. “I thought you were hot.”
I’m sure she meant the first time she met me as an adult. “You did?”
“Definitely. I wanted to climb you like a rock.” Her palm skims over my scruffy jaw. “But then you opened your mouth.” A small laugh. “Then you became an arrogant dickhead.”
I lift a brow at that. “And now?”
“Now you’re a hot, arrogant dickhead.”
“I thought you liked my arrogant dickhead.”
“That I do, Mr. Hawkes. I like it a whole lot.”
Tilting, I brush my lips against her fingers. “When I saw you there, I thought… well, you don’t want to know.”
“What?” She gives me a nudge. “Tell me.”
“I thought nothing.”
“Nothing?” Her cute brows pull together in a frown. “You didn’t think anything?” she asks incredulously.
“Not a thing.”
She makes a face and flips to her back, her eyes on the ceiling. “You were right. I don’t want to know. You did warn me.”
“I thought nothing, because I wasn’t capable of thought. All thoughts just vanished.”
The ceiling must be more fascinating than I thought, because she won’t take her eyes off it. “I didn’t think for one minute I’d be here. In your home. In your bed. I was so mad at you.”
“Because of Peter.”
“Because of my father,” she concurs. “Because you were so callous about it. I thought you must be the most heartless person in the world, and my father was nuts for working with you for as long as he did.
I join her in the admiration of the ceiling. “You still want me to bring him back to HC,” I deduce, the words leaving a vicious taste in my mouth. A pesky, illogical part of me wonder if that’s the real reason she’s here in my bed.
“You did what you thought needed to be done. I get it.”
There’s a but in there…
“But he’s still my father.”
“And I should give him special treatment.” If I allow her to hear the anger and not the hurt, that’s because I’m a man. I shouldn’t care that she fucked me to save her father’s job. Hell, a lot of men wouldn’t think twice about it. Maybe I should be grateful that’s all she’s asking. “Done,” I snap. I’ll give her what she wants. She’s earned it, I decide bitterly. “He can rejoin HC once he successfully completes the program in Arizona.”
Silence.
My heart thumps, furious and impatient. Fucking say something and get this shit over with.
She rears up, the blanket falling around us. Then she’s straddling me, all creamy skin and cascading hair, her knees clamping my sides. My arrogant dickhead takes instant notice even if other parts of me abruptly left the game.
Tipping down, she plants a kiss in the center of my chest. “Thank you,” she murmurs.
I’ve turned to stone. Unfeeling. Unmoving. From experience I know her lips are supple and warm, the tumble of dark hair silky against my skin, but I’m numb to it all.
It’s you I want to do this with. Right here, right now.
Lies.
Her lips skate down, tongue flicking at the ridges of my abs, h
er soft tits right on my happy groin.
Grimly, I wonder if she’s going to show her gratitude by sucking me off. I shouldn’t mind. Most men would gladly give her a hell of a lot more for those luscious lips around their dicks.
She climbs up, her mouth on the side of my neck. “Thank you,” she says again. “But I don’t want you to give my dad his job back.”
I tug her up, my hands on her jaw. Her eyes need to be on me right fucking now. “What?” It came out harsher than I wanted, but fuck, I’m all over the place. “What did you say?”
A part of me breaks at the sorrow on her gorgeous features. “I know you have a company to run. I was there today, seen enough to know that my father doesn’t belong there anymore. He… he needs to get himself together. On his own.” Her gaze drops to my neck before veering back up. “Maybe I’ve known that from the beginning. It was just hard to face it.”
“Gemmy.” God, this woman. “I’m proud of you.”
“Even though I gave you hell over firing my dad?”
“Because you gave me hell for firing Peter.” A chuckle, both from head spinning joy and relief. “You were always a force to be reckoned with when you were pissed.”
“You’ve known me for less than two months, Brad Hawkes, how would you know? Wait. Let me guess.” Taking my hands, she slowly guides them to her hips. “My dad told you.”
Like the first time I saw her in my office, I lose all thought.
Because Gemma is rubbing herself against me, her dampness coating my hot skin. Head thrown back in abandon, eyes closed, lips parted as her breaths rapidly accelerate, she’s a magnificent sight.
Fuck. “Are you sure you were a virgin yesterday?”
She only moves faster, riding my very hard, very needy dick. “I want to come, Brad,” she moans. “Make me come.”
Oh hell yeah. “Come on me, Gemmy. Come on me now.”
She cries out, back arching as she spasms like she’s never going to stop. I don’t think twice but surge into her, heels digging into the mattress as I urgently hammer it home.
She feels so good.
Never want this to stop. Never.
I want to come inside her. Just once.
I’m going to come inside her.
Right the fuck now.
“Oh fuck!” I pump faster. Frantic. Needing to give her all of me. “Gemmy!”
Somewhere in my racing, frenzied mind I hear her gasp in shock.
Twenty-three
Gemma
It’s such an odd thing. The morning after pill. Apt but odd.
I should be thankful such a thing exists. Brad didn’t wait until the morning though. One quick text to Carlson and I had the package in my hand within twenty minutes. I couldn’t look Carlson in the eye, but he was having trouble doing the same. One thing is for sure, Carlson probably deserves a raise.
We might have been testing the efficacy of the morning after pill by him unloading inside me two more times that night. Pushing it? Brad seemed to believe in the miracle product’s boast. He’d shrugged with a might as well take advantage of the situation. Maybe he has stocks in it.
Tuesdays are my full days at HC. Though I fought tooth and nail to drive in myself with one of his cars, Brad wouldn’t hear of it.
“It doesn’t make sense. We’re both going the same route at the same time,” he argued this morning. “Why would we take separate cars?”
He did have a point, which actually brought up a different one.
“You know, I’m only supposed to be staying with you for a few days. It’s been way longer than that. Don’t you think it’s time for me to go home?”
Conversation ended. He shut me down so fast even Carlson did a double take.
I would have taken offense, but Carlson was right there, and I already had my fill of mortification with him after he ran that personal errand last night.
As a compromise, Carlson dropped me off first while Brad stayed in the car. They circled the block before letting him off.
Tiffani is already at her desk when I get in, coffee in one hand while the other taps at her keyboard.
“Good morning,” I call out as I pass her.
“Gemma,” she grumbles.
I guess that’s better than a fuck-you. Jamming my purse and lunch tote in my desk drawer, I look over the partitions separating us. It’s early yet, and I think IT tends to start late and stay later, so there aren’t that many of us occupying the floor.
Braving that fuck-you after all, I ask Tiffani, “What’s on the agenda today?”
“Work,” she mumbles over her cup. “Work. Oh yeah, and more work.”
“Something I can help with?” I ask, not exactly sure where to start. It’s not like I’ve been thoroughly trained, but I’ve got to start somewhere.
“Gee, are you here to work?” Sarcasm drips from every accusatory word.
Taken aback by her biting tone, I respond, “Well… yeah. I mean, I haven’t been trained yet, but I’m sure there’s something I can do besides get Mr. Jansky coffee and setup lunch meetings.”
Confusion mars her brows. “What are you talking about? We don’t get coffee for anyone besides ourselves. The clerical staff does those things, not procurement.”
It’s my turn to be perplexed. “Maybe just the new employees? Mr. Jansky told me there was no job too big or too small, I just figured that was his way of telling me we wear many hats.”
“Hello? We don’t wear other peoples’ hats.”
“But… are you sure?” I’m frowning now. “We don’t help IT organize the equipment either?”
“We order things for IT. Those jerkwads better be organizing them, not me.”
On to what she’s telling me, I sag, physically and mentally. “So we don’t check the expiration dates on the kitchen supplies either, I take it.”
“Gemma.” Carefully, she sets down her cup. “Tell me you didn’t do those things. Never mind. I can tell by your face that you did.” She shakes her head in genuine bewilderment. “Why?”
“They were what Mr. Jansky asked me to do.” I attempt at a nonchalant shrug but can feel the dejection weighing it down. “It was my first day. I didn’t know what I was supposed to do.”
“Is that why you were gone most of the time?” She begins to laugh. “Holy shit, this is classic.”
I drop to my chair. Well, this sucks. My boss hates me. My colleague is laughing at me and I don’t blame her. It’s obvious I’m a fool. No one seems to think much of me.
Is it because of Brad?
That can’t be it. No one knows. Maybe Linda, but I can’t imagine her being Brad’s assistant for too long if she can’t be discreet.
Is it because my last name is Warton?
I’m beginning to think my dad wasn’t well liked here.
*****
“Peter Warton is my father.”
Suzy has a fork of chicken halfway to her mouth when her eyes widen over my impromptu announcement. We’re at one of the bistro tables at the building’s courtyard. It’s beautiful out, but a viny pergola does a great job shielding us from the midday sun.
As agreed yesterday, Suzy and I met down here with our lunches. She’s on a budget and prefers not to eat out, and since Carlson packed me a lunch again, this is perfect.
Her neck works as she quickly swallows her food. “I… I didn’t know.”
I push the salmon and veggies around in the glass container, not really feeling it. “He didn’t get me the job here,” I feel compelled to explain. “He was already gone when I was offered the position, but I won’t deny my being his daughter might have had something to do with it.”
Mutely, Suzy stares down at her leftover chicken stir fry for a beat.
Then she bursts with glee, quickly slapping a hand to her mouth, but the wild laughter can’t be contained.
A few heads turn.
“Suzy.” I nudge her a little. “What’s so funny?”
“Oh my God! This is great.” She hoots, tears of mirth ga
thering in her eyes. “I couldn’t have dream up a better scenario.”
“What are you talking about?”
“That bitch.” She lowers her voice. “The office witch. She wanted the job but Mr. Warton kept pushing back, probably seeing right through her. Mr. Hawkes backed him up, but then Mr. Warton was fired…” Sobering, she flashes me an apologetic look. “Everyone thought for sure the job was going to be hers.” She shakes her head. “But no. You’re here. And you’re Mr. Warton’s daughter. That bitch must be pissing on herself, she’s so mad. Oh my God, I love it!”
Too bad I’m not loving it. “That explains why she hates me.”
Suzy pats my hand consolingly. “It’s not personal, Gemma. She hates everyone.”
That doesn’t make me feel better. “You told me yesterday Mr. Hawkes gives procurement his special attention. What did you mean by that?”
“Well, it’s just stuff I hear from other people. I don’t know if it’s true.”
“What kind of stuff?”
To borrow a minute, she forks in a mouthful, contemplating as she chews. “I think it has to do with your father.” Sheepishly, she looks away. “Are you sure you want to hear this?” At my firm nod, she goes on. “It was said that Mr. Warton got away with whatever he wanted because Mr. Hawkes allowed it.”
I’m shaking my head. “That’s absurd. Mr. Hawkes isn’t one to permit something like that.”
“I agree. I think people were just jealous. Mr. Warton and Mr. Hawkes had a unique bond. They were almost like family. I don’t… oh shit.” She swiftly ducks her head, her gaze suddenly examining her food like the winning lotto numbers marinated it. “Don’t look, Gemma,” she fluster-whispers, “but Mr. Hawkes just sat down at the table behind you.”
Figures.
If that man is spying on me, I’ll kill him. And he won’t have a stupid grin on his face.
A naughty idea has me fighting back a grin. “I don’t know,” I declare in a voice loud enough to carry. “Chris Pine is pretty hot. I wouldn’t mind parking my shoes under his bed.”