by Izzy Sweet
I pick my bag up from the floor.
“Whitney…” he says, and the way he says my name feels heavy. Like there are so many unsaid feelings behind it—so many things he wants to say that could destroy me.
I’m afraid of what he wants from me. I’m not sophisticated enough, or experienced to play these kind of games. I know my strength and weaknesses—most of the time I’m painfully aware of them—and I know sleeping with men without getting attached is definitely not one of my strengths.
“Yes?” I ask, hesitantly. Please don’t offer me more money, please.
“How many hours a day do you work?”
“It depends…”
“More than eight?”
“Only four times a week.”
“You only work four days?”
“No, I work six. But I only pull doubles four days a week.”
“Have you ever tried to work somewhere else?”
I stiffen. I can’t tell if he’s intentionally trying to insult me or not. “Yes, but they were the only places willing to hire me.”
He shakes his head with disbelief. “I find that hard to believe…”
“Most places didn’t want to hire me because I was fifteen and a half when I originally applied.” Why does he care about my work history? What’s it to him? “Why are you even asking?”
He reaches out to touch me, his fingers brushing across my cheek as he frowns at me thoughtfully. “I want to offer you a job.”
My heart skips a beat. “You do?”
“Yes,” he says huskily and leans towards me. His eyes lock on my lips, and I hold my breath, waiting for him to kiss me. “I don’t know why but I want to take care of you.”
That pulls the breath right out of me. He wants to take care of me? Why would he say such a thing to me? We don’t even know each other. We just met last night for crying out loud. He doesn’t know me, the real me.
“You…” I start to say but his mouth covers mine suddenly, interrupting me.
He’s so damn warm, so damn sweet, I don’t even fight him. No, I find myself grabbing at his shirt, needing something to hold on to as he kisses me like our very lives depend upon it. It’s zero to sixty, blood pumping, tongues clashing—all or nothing.
He’s making love to me in the car with his mouth.
Somehow his seatbelt comes unbuckled and he’s pressing me back into my seat with his weight. He’s so hard, so firm, I feel like if I resist his weight I might snap beneath him. Each pull, each warm caress has my resistance melting more and more. My insides are dissolving into a warm puddle of goo, and all I can do is whimper and squirm.
Knees nudge at my knees and I’m opening for him. I don’t know how he does it, but he just slips past the wall I’ve built. If he’s not touching me, I feel like I just might make it—I’ll survive. But as soon as we touch, as soon as I’m sharing gravity with him, he’s making me weak. Somehow, someway, he’s my kryptonite, and I don’t even remember giving him such power.
A shrill whistle followed by a loud, obnoxious bout of hooting and hollering brings us back to reality. I feel like someone just yanked the ground out from underneath me and I’m crashing back down to reality.
Colt tears his mouth away from mine. Leaning back into his seat, he shoots a murderous glare through the windshield at the group of guys strolling past the car. The group laughs among themselves, insulting me with disgusting words not fit to repeat as they leisurely move along. Honestly, even though Colt looks fit to be tied- his face an angry beet red and his hands clenching with unspent aggression—I’m grateful for the interruption.
How the hell did I allow this to go this far?
Sometime during our kiss my bag slipped back down to the floor. I yank it back up and clutch it in my lap, needing something to hold on to. The bag helps me feel more grounded, and that’s exactly what I need to feel right now.
“Thanks for the ride,” I murmur and reach for the door handle.
Sucking in a deep breath, Colt rakes his fingers through his now-tousled hair. My fingers flex, wanting to run through it. “Let me walk you to your door.”
No. No freakin’ way, I think, and shake my head at him. “That won’t be necessary. Honestly, it’s better if you go…”
“Why?” he asks, his blue gaze swinging over to pierce right through me.
“Because…” I want you too much. Because you’re like a fucking dessert—you’re sweet and you taste delicious, but if I overindulge you’ll ruin me.
I can’t admit any of that though. I can’t.
“This isn’t the best neighborhood. Your car is drawing a lot of attention.”
“You’re worried about my car?” he asks with a lift of his brow and a smirk tugging at his lips.
I nod my head and pull the handle, pushing the door open. “Yes, just go ahead and take off. I’m fine, really. My door is right there.” I slide out of the car. “Thanks for the ride, I really appreciate it.”
Hope I don’t see you around, I think, as I shut the car door.
His door pops open immediately and he hops out. Dammit.
“I insist,” he says as he strides confidently up to me. He reaches into his pocket and the car beeps twice, headlights flashing.
I’m too tired, too dazed after that amazing kiss, to think up any other excuses to keep him from walking me to my door.
I’ll just hurry… I’ll say goodbye, open the door really fast, and slip inside before anyone sees him.
He grabs me by the crook of the arm, pulling me close as he protectively escorts me to my front door.
“We still need to discuss my job offer.”
Dammit, I was hoping he forgot about that.
I force a smile. “Thanks, but I already have two jobs, I’m not looking for a third.”
Colt nods as if he understands. “You’ll need to quit your two other jobs.”
“I can’t just quit my jobs.”
“I’ll ensure you’re properly compensated. You’ll earn more from my offer than you could ever earn at the places you’re working for now.”
I have no doubt he’d pay me handsomely, but if I quit my jobs it would make me totally reliant upon him. Is that what he wants? To have complete control over me? To have me at his mercy… until he gets bored.
“Look…” I start to say, pulling away but then my front door suddenly opens.
“I thought I heard voices out here,” Luther says, head popping out and giving me the stink eye.
I don’t have an excuse or a cover for Colt’s escort—I’m surprised stupid. My mouth works but nothing comes out.
“Luther, how you doin’?” Colt asks with a grin.
The door flies all the way open. “Colt? Man, what are you doin’ here?”
Why is Colt acting like he knows my brother?
“I gave your sister a ride home.”
“You did?” Luther asks, his eyes narrowing. He looks at me with suspicion and it’s everything I can do not to squirm and look guiltier than I already do.
Because… what can I say? How did I meet Colt? Why is he with me? Where was I last night? Why is money suddenly no longer a problem? Luther is not stupid by any means, in fact, I’ve often thought my brothers are much more perceptive than anyone gives them credit for. And right now I can almost see the gears turning behind his eyes as he begins to put two and two together.
“Yeah, and I was just about to offer her a job before you interrupted us,” Colt grins easily at my brother.
“Yeah?” Luther asks, taken aback.
Oh god. He’s so not going to… he can’t…
I turn to Colt, looking at him in panic. Don’t. For the love of God don’t tell my brother you want to hire me on as your fucking mistress, my eyes plead with him. But he seems to be purposely ignoring me.
He leans casually against the building and nods. “Yeah. That cool with you?”
Luther’s eyes flick back and forth between the two of us, his gears still turning. I just want to die. I want
a hole to open up in the ground and swallow me whole. Who the hell does Colt think he is? Does he get off on stuff like this? Is he that kind of guy?
“Yeah, that’s cool,” Luther finally nods his head, giving his permission.
What the fuck just happened? This cannot be real.
Colt grins and steps forward, he and Luther do this weird embracing thing where they grip each other’s arm and slap each other on the back. “It was good to see you again. We’ll probably be seeing more of each other.”
“Yeah,” Luther grins. “Good seeing you too. Take it easy, man.” He looks at me, and just gives me a nod of his head. “Thanks for taking care of my sister.”
I’m still dumbfounded so all I do is blink at Luther. And just like that, he steps back into the apartment, closing our front door behind him.
“So… about that job,” Colt drawls, giving me his full attention.
My fingers itch, now that my brother is gone I have the strongest urge to slap him. “What was that?” I hiss instead.
Colt frowns and straightens from his casual pose. “I know your brother through some booster work I did with the school. I thought it would be best I let him know my intentions so he doesn’t get the wrong impression.”
“Oh yeah, we wouldn’t want him to get the wrong impression,” I say with a lot of venom. And I’m so angry, I’m fighting back tears. I should have never let Colt give me a ride home. I knew something like this could happen but still I let him. I’m so stupid, stupid, stupid.
“Whitney…” Colt says and takes a step toward me.
“Don’t!” I snap, stopping him in his tracks.
“What’s wrong? Did I say something to upset you?”
Why is he playing stupid? What is he getting out of all of this?
“You just told my brother! My brother of all people! I can’t believe you did that.”
“I told Luther I want to offer you a job, which is the truth…” Colt says slowly, carefully.
“Why? Why would you do that? Are you angry that I left this morning without your permission or something? Or do you just get off on hurting other people? Seriously, what did I do to deserve this?”
“I… You didn’t do…” Colt stammers and then stops. “Listen, I think this is just a misunderstanding…”
“You think?” I almost screech. “Of course it’s a misunderstanding! I thought you might actually be a decent guy but it turns out you’re actually a prick!”
“Whitney,” Colt frowns at me and steps forward. I bring up my hands to block him and take a step back, but he pursues me this time. Ignoring my hands, he grabs me by the arms. His grip is firm but not painful “It’s not what you think.”
I open my mouth but he talks quickly over me. “And I understand now what you’re thinking. It’s my fault, I should have explained it.” I open my mouth again and he snaps. “Just hear me out, okay?”
I snap my jaw shut and clench my teeth.
Colt takes a deep breath. “I want to offer you a job as my personal assistant, not my mistress.”
“Personal assistant?” I repeat, wondering if perhaps that’s just a title to cover his true intentions of making me his personal sex slave.
“Yes,” Colt confirms, sharply nodding his head. “You already know that I’m an agent, well I also have my own agency—and I’m in dire need of a good assistant. You’re smart, a hard worker, and you have integrity. I want to offer you the position.”
“You do?” I squeak as it all begins to make more sense.
“Yes. I’ll start you salaried, double what you’re making now.”
Oh my god. I just made a huge assumption, and made a gigantic ass out of myself.
I shake my head. “I can’t believe…”
Colt interrupts me. “I’ll bump it up to triple after your thirty-day review.”
I was going to say I can’t believe I’m so fucking stupid before he interrupted me, but now I’m saying, “Holy fuck.”
That’s a lot of money. That money could lift so many worries off of my back. At double or even triple my current salary, I could actually start saving.
“You don’t have to make a decision now. Think it over tonight and give me your answer in the morning.”
“I…”
“You’ve had a long day,” he says his voice getting huskier and his hands tightening on my arms. “I kept you up late.”
Bending down, his forehead presses against mine. He just stands there, touching me like that, breathing increased. I must admit just his touching my skin is incredibly pleasurable; I feel my shoulders relax as my blood is pumped full of endorphins.
“You should get some sleep,” he murmurs quietly.
“You really want to hire me as your assistant?” I ask, feeling incredibly relaxed against him but also still feeling like a huge jackass.
“Yes.”
“What does your assistant do?”
His soft lips curl at the corners. “My assistant assists me.”
I guess I was asking for that one. I roll my eyes and his hands squeeze me affectionately. “But it’s a real job? Not something you just made up to… you know, cover up something else you want from me.”
“It’s a real position, and I am in real need. I don’t usually mix business with pleasure…”
“Oh?”
“Yes, but I can’t help but make an exception for you.”
“Oh.” A new thought begins to form in my mind, one that makes me feel even sicker than the first. Is this job just charity? Does he feel sorry for me? Is this all being done out of pity?
“Just think about it, okay? I’ll pick you up in the morning…”
“I have to work tomorrow.”
“I’ll give you a ride.”
I sigh and try to pull away but his fingers tighten around my arms. “Even if I want to accept your offer—and I’m not committing just yet— I can’t just quit without notice. I need to give them two weeks.”
“Relax,” he rumbles and his fingers release their grip. “I’ll take care of it.”
“But…”
His finger covers my lips. “Sshh. I got it.”
I shake my head and reach up to yank his finger away.
But he presses his finger harder and implores, “Trust me.”
If only it were that easy—just trust him. Put my faith in him and hope everything turns out okay in the end. But I’ve watched my mom trust and put all of her faith into men before and it never worked out in the end. My childhood—before I started working and taking care of us—was one long string of men that came into my mom’s life only to further destroy it. They’d move in with us and she’d stop working. Then, with no job and three kids to take care of, they’d leave and she’d scramble to find a job or someone else to support us.
But I can go into this knowing that. I can go into this knowing it’s not permanent, and plan accordingly by saving up every cent I earn. Maybe it will be enough to tide us over until both of my brothers are off in college. Then I can go to college myself…
“Okay,” I say softly.
Colt perks up, standing up a bit taller. “You’re going to trust me?”
It’s the hardest yes I’ve ever said but somehow I manage to push it past my lips, “Yes.”
For the time being, at least.
Chapter Eight
After saying goodnight to Colt—and promising him I’ll get some sleep—I step into my apartment to find it strangely quiet. I expect Luther or James to be waiting for me but no, the living room is empty. Even my mom is gone.
Dropping my bag to the floor, I leave it by the door and head for the back bedrooms. Luther and James are both in their room, studying.
I knock softly on the door jamb and their dark heads pop up from their books.
“Hey,” I lead tentatively.
“Hey,” James echoes but Luther lifts a brow, looking a little annoyed by the interruption.
I let out a breath. “Where’s mom?”
“She out
with Jack…” James answers then looks to Luther for help. “Or was it Mack?”
Luther shrugs, “Fuck if I know.”
I nod. I’m actually relieved that she’s out. It would have been weirder to find her still home doing something productive like dishes or cooking or something. Things are always more stressful when she’s around. And I’m still pissed off at her for stealing the rent and grocery money for her dope. I don’t even know how I’m going to confront her about it, but I know I have to.
“Doing homework?” I ask.
“Yeah,” James answers. “Getting it out of the way. Coach has scheduled an extra practice this week. We’re playin’ Liberty Friday. You going to be there?”
“Yep,” I smile tiredly at him. “I already scheduled off.”
“You bringing Colt with you?” Luther asks.
“Colt?” James repeats before I get a chance to answer. “Why would she bring Colt?”
Luther stares me hard in the eyes. “Because, according to him, she’s going to be working for him now.”
James looks to me in shock. “You are?”
I shake my head and slump against the door. I’m too tired for this right now. I should have just went to bed, but I hate going to sleep without saying goodnight to them.
“Maybe,” I answer softly and shrug. “I’m not sure… Possibly... I don’t know…”
“You’re not going to accept his job offer?” Luther asks, incredulous.
“Do you think I should?”
Luther’s eyes never leave mine as he tells me, “I think you would be fucking stupid not to.”
“Why?” I ask, my eyes watering as I stare back at him. I don’t even know what time it is—a little before eight? A little after? I’m too young to be this tired this early. “Who is he anyway? I barely know him, but you seem to know him. Why do you think I should accept his offer?”
“Colt Jackson is the best quarterback in Washington High’s history! He led the team to three state championships, and one national.” James’ exclaims excitedly. “He played for State for two years, and everyone was expecting him to be the number one draft pick after his junior year, but he got hurt.”
“He won the Sugar bowl and the Heisman trophy,” Luther pipes in.