One of the things I always liked about her being my boss was the complete lack of bullshit in our relationship. And now since that barrier wasn’t there, she didn’t suddenly introduce games—much to my relief. “How long have I had feelings for you?”
“Yes.”
“From the moment you sat down in my office and told me you were going to become invaluable. Do you remember what I said back?”
I immediately recall that first conversation that left me feeling buzzed and loopy. It’s only now, I’m beginning to understand why. “You said, I have a secret for you. ‘So am I.’” I blinked. “Then you threw me out of your office.”
Burke hummed. “It was that or lose my new position on the first day.”
“That was two damn years ago!” I semi-roared. “You mean to tell me…”
“That I had goals, a timeline, and you weren’t ready for what I wanted.” A level look laid upon me let me know Carys wasn’t oblivious to my after-hour proclivities. “Because let me assure you, David, the moment you enter my bed, you’re not leaving it.”
Sliding out of the booth, her jacket caught on the edge of the booth, pulling back away from a pair of perfectly tailored dress slacks cupping a remarkable ass. I’ve always been an ass man, and the one in front of me was spectacular. I stood until I was able to reach out and trail a smooth finger down flawless skin from the corner of her brow to the throbbing pulse fluttering where short whips of hair settled next to an ear. “What do we do now?”
With a smirk, she slipped on her overcoat. “Come find me. Then we’ll talk terms.”
Baffled, I demanded, “We’re going to negotiate?”
“Why not? We both do it so well.” And on that note, I found myself watching everything, and nothing, walk away.
It took me less than a week of a lifeless work environment to realize my work—no, my life—just wasn’t the same without Burke. Three days later, I made my way, hat in hand, to Burke’s new office and was offered the job of a lifetime but under one critical condition.
“Here, I call the shots.” Burke’s voice was calm. She wasn’t Carys—which is what I’d started calling her in my mind as I thought about her in my bed. In her new office overlooking Rockefeller Center, she was still Burke.
And a part of me was relieved by it.
She continued. “In this office, I’m still the boss. I’ve worked too damn hard and waited too long for whatever this might be to affect it.”
“On one condition,” I agreed.
Lips quirked. “Let’s hear it.”
“When you’re not my boss, you’re my lover. And that’s where I get control.”
Aqua-colored eyes lit with interest. “I can work with that.”
“So can I.” With a wicked smile, I leaned across the desk and asked, “Do we seal the deal with a handshake or a kiss.”
“Both,” Burke said, surprising me. “But lots of paperwork before we do either.”
And so, it began. And for the last three years, it’s worked beautifully.
Until now.
Pushing through the revolving door, I swallow the mild nausea that’s been threatening when I think of what Carys is going to say when we get home tonight. I’ve been making significant plans that are going to forever alter the balance of our relationship.
As I stand amid the crowd of individuals waiting to crowd on the gilded elevators to carry them to the higher floors of the magnificent skyscraper to get through another workday, I wonder if any of their thoughts are as tumultuous as mine are—that nothing will be the same tomorrow as it is at this very moment.
Chapter Two
Carys
I hear David call out a greeting to Angie as he makes his way into the outside office. My heart begins to pound when I remember the deliciously controlled way he took me up against our headboard last night. Despite the warm air allowing me to shed my suit jacket, chills run over me, raising the hair on the back of my neck.
It’s been like this since I met him half a decade before. Whereas I spent a career building a reputation as a cutthroat attorney, I wanted—no, needed—David to see me as someone beyond that.
For almost two years, I tried to bury the urges he stirred in me every time he was in my presence, which was too damn often to name. Client after client, meeting after meeting, unable to do a damn thing because I was his boss yet being forced to endure overhearing the occasional office rumors and wanting to rip someone’s perfectly coiffed hair out of their head out of sheer fucking jealousy.
I’m no damn martyr, nor am I a saint. Watching David burn through relationships and my own need to be held born from assuming too much responsibility pushed me for a time into the arms of a carelessly amusing man where, fortunately, we parted amicably, realizing we were better friends. We continued to be each other’s escorts when life required it. And for a short time, I was content.
The status quo changed when I came to work one day to be the recipient of David’s snide remarks as he slapped a tabloid on my desk. “He’s who you want, Burke?”
Lifting the paper up, I admired the photo of my ex wrapped around the lead singer of the group we’d signed the week before, Silverthorn. They made an attractive couple, my mind whirling on how I could help marketing capitalize on the PR.
“Burke!” he snapped.
With a sigh, I dropped the paper. “What do you expect me to say?”
“That you have more respect for yourself than to waste yourself on a man like that.” David flicked his hand toward the paper, but, God. He could have been talking about himself.
And like the clicks of a tumbler releasing a lock, the door of my imagination flung open, showing me the path of what I need to do.
I needed to leave Wildcard. I would never find my happiness if I saw David in this toxic environment every single day.
“You’re right.” I must have shocked him, because he fell back a step. “Now, if you’ll excuse me?” I gestured toward the door.
“Burke?” His voice was hesitant.
“I need to make some calls, David,” I told him firmly. Already lifting the receiver on my desk, I raised my brow as he stood there. “Please close the door behind you.”
David cursed as he closed the door. I finished dialing, calling one of my closest friends to read over my contract to review my non-compete clause. Finding out my interpretation of it was accurate, I thanked him before hanging up.
I told the owner that evening, after dodging David with a closed door that day.
I was asked, begged, to stay on. Despite the offer they tempted me with, I refused. It wasn’t money. As challenging as the job was, it didn’t allow me the one thing I needed.
Freedom. And I got it.
A few weeks later, I called David into my office to announce my departure. He looked like I’d slapped him after I announced I was leaving. But what I didn’t expect was that we’d be at odds. I thought it would tear down the walls between us.
I thought I’d made a grave mistake. That is, until his anger catapulted him into my office to demand credit and respect, when he’s always had both from me, further reinforcing my decision to leave.
My life, held dormant for too long under responsibilities I inherited, flew back through my soul when his face slackened in shock seeing me being escorted out that final night. That was three years and three weeks ago today.
And I do believe it was in that moment, David ever saw me, not his boss. But later, when weeks later after our first official date, he pulled me around the corner and angled his dark-blond head downward for our first kiss, muttering, “Don’t let this be a mistake,” I knew I meant as much to him as he did to me.
Now, as I type furiously on a contract template to adjust the terms for this crazy all-women metal band, I smile fondly in remembrance of the way he prowled into the office a few weeks later after that kiss carrying a slice of dark chocolate cake with dark chocolate sour cream frosting that tasted like sin bursting on my tongue, his jealousy making his eyes
look more green than brown that day. And it was even more decadent when mixed with the taste of his cock as he thrust himself over and over in my mouth, kneeling astride my shoulders as I lay back on the plush office rug. But even now, I can’t recall a better taste than his lips capturing mine, which were still smeared with chocolate and cum, when he thrust inside me for the first time, whispering, “You’re mine.”
“Damn caveman.” But I can’t help the curve of my lips when I remember how I writhed in his arms as he held my wrists prisoner and fucked his claim right here in this office mere hours after my ex became my client. A soft laugh bubbles out of me just as my door swings open. Though, the sight of my man causes all laughter to evaporate when I remember how irritated I am with him.
Today of all days.
“Something amusing?” He strolls across the room.
“No.” At least not yet, I think to myself. Maybe by day’s end.
“You were laughing when you’ve been in a snit. You’ve been like this for a while. What did I do?”
“Nothing.” No, it’s more like, it’s what I know you’re planning on doing. Just thinking about it sets my blood on fire. Because as much as I love the man in front of me, I want to throttle him. I have little tolerance for macho bullshit. I want a partner, someone to share their life with me.
And hearing secondhand about what David has planned makes me want to kick him hard between the legs.
“Except he’d be out of commission,” I mutter aloud.
“What did you say?”
Shaking my head, I gesture to the cabinet which hides my prized Italian coffee maker. “It’s out of commission. Out of beans,” I tack on.
David laughs. Despite my urge to wrap my hands around his shoulders and shake him, he leans across the desk and slips his hand over mine. “You’re booked solid today. I have a few before I was planning on diving into the files you left on my desk. I’ll go get you a latte from Dean & DeLuca until Angie can run out at lunch for beans.”
My heart defrosts a little. “You spoil me.”
His face darkens before he pulls back. “Never enough. Give me a few and I’ll get you sorted out for the day.” With a wink he turns, saying over his shoulder, “You’ll lose all your clients if you’re not properly caffeinated.”
I wait until David is out of earshot before I bang my head on the gel wrist pad in front of my keyboard. “Stupid man. I just need you to love me enough to stay,” I whisper.
Knowing everything I do about what David has planned and realizing he’s idiotic enough to let masculine-riddled convention take over his incredibly brilliant mind and fill it with debasing crap that a man needs to be the provider for his family confirms that what I have planned for today is critical to the long-term success of our relationship.
“We are who we are, my love,” I whisper fiercely.
I want to race to the door and just cut loose, screaming we’ve evolved from prehistoric cavepeople. It’s our relationship, not the world’s. If we’re happy, then who the hell cares what outsiders think? But this way, I think smugly, will be so much better.
Then I snap back in my chair. “He’s so worried, he forgot to wish me a happy Valentine’s Day,” I say aloud. Bursting into gales of laughter, I wonder if I can sneak in a quick espresso before David comes back with the coffee I don’t need.
And before his first gift arrives.
Chapter Three
David
“Do you have a secret to share?” I read aloud on the card that accompanies wine-colored roses delivered by courier to Burke’s office. Narrowing my eyes, I cast them toward the closed door behind which negotiations for the newest metal band to hit the music scene since Mastodon are occurring. “Likely one of the people who want to know about who Burke’s writing the contract for. Not like it’s the first time.” I shake my head and toss the card to the desk, knowing there will be nothing but a disdainful curl of a full upper lip once it’s seen.
But later, much later. Because our schedule today is a block after block of blue with absolutely no wiggle room. Pulling up Burke’s schedule next to my own, all I see are back-to-back conference calls from now until the day ends at seven thirty. Groaning, hating how that delays my own plans for the night, I flop back in my chair in the outer office. There’s no way I can walk in there to deliver a bunch of roses, no matter how beautiful they are. “Should have thought of something like this myself,” I mutter aloud. It might have made tonight’s news a bit easier to swallow.
“Did you say something, David?” Her slim hand smooths over my shoulder.
“Shit.” I shoot to my feet, my chair flying to one side.
Carys’s aqua-colored eyes are almost amused. She makes a tsking sound. “Such language. What would a client think if they walked in?”
Since Carys Burke has a talent for melting the hearts of the scariest bad boys of rock who have walked through her door for legal advice, I just smirk. “Probably that I’m a choirboy.”
Her golden eyebrows wing upward before she leans into me and presses her breasts into my back before whispering, “Well, we both know better than that, don’t we?”
My mouth falls open. It must be because it’s Valentine’s Day because Carys is never this forward in the office during work hours. Ever. Since that wild night on her office floor when I gave in to my base Neanderthal tendencies, I’ve tried to be as circumspect as possible. Otherwise, I’d have her against every flat surface every chance I got, the wild attraction that started between us three years ago getting stronger with every minute of every day. But here, she’s the boss, and I remain her most trusted employee. It’s a relationship that’s worked for us until I realized I wanted to give her everything.
But, after tonight? I don’t know what’s going to happen, and it’s churning my stomach every time she steps out of her inner sanctum. I straighten my chair and fall back into it, moving her back slightly.
“Oh, what beautiful roses.” She admires the flowers on my desk. Leaning forward, she buries her nose in the fragrant blooms, but the only thing I can smell is her. After all, I know where she dabbed her perfume this morning—just a touch behind each ear, behind her knees, and right over each pelvic bone.
But that’s not it.
My heart thumps madly against my chest when she shifts and I realize what I’m smelling is her scent, that tantalizing smell I’m normally blessed with when I lay her back on our bed and I’m pushing my head between her trim thighs. Carys is immensely turned on.
I press slightly closer to her luscious ass as she leans over for the card I casually discarded before. “What makes you so sure these are for me?” Her eyes pin me to my seat as they narrow on me in contemplation. “Hmm?”
I clear my throat. Right. Work time. “I assumed they had to do with someone honing in about Erzulie deciding to use you as representation.”
Much as I, myself, did, Carys flicks the card from her hand. “If you think so.”
Perplexed, I wonder aloud, “What else could it be?”
“I don’t know, David. You tell me. Is there anything else I need to know about?”
Now, that’s a question that will get you in trouble with any lawyer. Knowing I’m dealing with my boss and not my lover, I answer honestly, “Not that I’m aware of.”
Luckily, the phone rings, interrupting us. “Carys Burke,” I answer. I can’t prevent the curl of my lip when Carys’s ex-boyfriend—who happens to be one of her biggest clients—interrupts our conversation.
“Hey, Dave. It’s Becks. Is Carrie there?”
“I’ll see if she has time.” Knowing she’ll take the call for the moneymaking asshole, I school my features before advising her, “Beckett Miller is on line one. Would you like for me to have him call back since you have a call in ten minutes with the Neo Casting Agency?”
She’s already shaking her head. “I’ll take it in my office. Wait two minutes after I go back in before transferring it. But for all that’s holy, interrupt the call when Neo ca
lls? I’m not blowing that over Becks’ temper tantrum over finding out his latest piece is on the cover of the tabloids with another man.”
“Of course.” But I can’t prevent the smirk as she sashays back into her office.
“And do something about those flowers, David.” My head whips arounds. “Find out who sent them. That person deserves a personal thank-you.”
What. The. Fuck? “Absolutely,” I growl.
And it’s moments like this when I’m damn glad I’ve made the decisions I have because the door closing behind her tells me she’s back in full-on boss mode.
Glaring at my computer, I realize I have six hours until this day ends and Carys and I can go home to make some very hard decisions.
Chapter Four
David
“Secrets aren’t a good thing,” I read aloud on another dozen roses, these ones blush pink with a bright pink rim, delivered by a different courier two hours later. I spent almost that whole time trying to find out from the first florist who ordered the beautiful blooms with absolutely no luck.
“I’m sorry, sir,” the store owner said snootily. “For privacy reasons, no, I can’t give you a description of any individual who ordered from us. You said you work for an attorney? I’m certain they can advise you of that.” Right before they hung up.
I was only mildly irritated before. Now, with a second delivery, I’m beginning to panic. “Son of a bitch,” I curse. Did Carys pick up some kind of crazed stalker at one of the clubs? Some of the places we go to in order to check out our new clients aren’t exactly in the best parts of the tristate area. Scrubbing my hands over my shaved head, I wonder, “Maybe the guy who wouldn’t leave her alone at that place in Fort Washington…”
“What are you meandering about, David?” Carys’s impatient voice comes from behind me.
“You got another delivery,” I tell her somberly. Handing over the card, she scans it, before tossing the card onto the desk almost exactly next to the other.
A Little Bit Cupid: A Collection of Short Stories Page 16