by B. B. Hamel
I don’t have the ability to listen or to care. I take out my notebook and try to follow along but it’s like trying to run in waist-deep water.
I keep flashing back to the night before. I want to act like it was a horrible time, like he was a total asshole and terrible company, but that just wouldn’t be true.
I had fun. I had a lot of fun. He was charming and funny and seemed genuinely interested in my life story. We talked openly and honestly and there was never a gap or an awkward pause.
It felt totally natural and right. God, I wish that weren’t the case.
I glance over at him and he catches my eye with a little smirk. He gives me a quick wink and I swear he can read my mind. I feel myself starting to blush as I look away.
I have a theory about drinking. See, my theory is that when you’re drunk, all of your shame gets suppressed. So you do things and say things that you wouldn’t normally do. You’re totally focused in on the single moment in front of you and all those voices that keep you in check are completely missing.
Then the next morning, it all comes rushing back. Even if you weren’t that bad, it doesn’t matter. All that shame comes rushing back and just dumps itself on you.
That’s how I feel.
I know I didn’t do anything bad. But the moment when I got between Cade and that girl… and I said I was this fiancée...
Oh, god. I bet he loved that.
In fact, I know he loved it. I remember the look on his face.
He looked like he wanted to rip my clothes off right then and there and take me standing up in the middle of that crowded room.
And I think I might’ve let him.
Okay, not exactly.
But it would’ve been tempting.
What a mess.
Fortunately the meeting is short. Everyone gets up and slowly filters out except for me, Ken, and Cade.
“How is it so far?” Ken asks him.
Cade just shrugs. “So far, so good. I’m just observing though.”
“Right. You said that.” Ken leans back in his chair. “See, there are some folks around here that think you’re not lying. They think you really are just here to observe, ever since your dad passed.”
“What are you suggesting, Ken?” Cade seems calm, which is good, but I feel a spike of worry.
“I don’t believe you,” Ken says softly, almost menacingly. “I think you’re lying. I think you’re full of shit, if I’m honest.”
“Can’t say that surprises me,” Cade answers.
“I never liked your old man,” Ken continues, “always thought he cared too much about turning a profit for his fucking business than he did about actual journalism. But I played along, did my part, whatever. Now the guy’s dead and his son suddenly comes back? Something’s up.”
A muscle at the corner of Cade’s right eye twitches. I can tell he’s getting angry but he’s holding it back.
“Nothing is up,” he says precisely. “Nothing that concerns you, at least.”
“Ah,” Ken replies. “There it is. So there is something up.”
Cade’s jaw tenses. “Don’t push.”
“Why not? Going to call your daddy? Unfortunately, he’s already rotting.”
Cade stands. “Listen to me, you pig fucking hack. My father was a piece of shit but he was still my father. If you insult him again, I will destroy you.”
“Oh, yeah?” Ken smirks.
“I’m not making idle threats,” Cade says, his voice pitched low. “I’m not talking out my ass. I’m going to be the sole owner of the Morris company, and when I am, I’ll hold more than enough power to squash a tiny little pathetic pig like you. Do you understand that?”
Ken’s face turns white. “You’re going to…?”
“Of course I am.” Cade sneers at him. “What, you thought that just because I wasn’t already in charge, that I got pushed out?”
Ken doesn’t respond.
Clearly, the answer is yes.
Cade takes a step back.
“Why don’t you give me the room now, Ken?” he asks. “Oh, and another thing. I do want an office after all.”
“Of course.” Ken gets up, looking defeated. “I’ll get it ready.”
“I want your office, Ken.”
The man looks up, surprised. Anger ripples on the surface. “You can’t—”
“Be out of there in a half hour.”
Ken stares at him for a second, clearly calculating what he should do, but eventually he slinks off and walks away.
Cade sighs and sits back down. He shakes his head like he’s trying to rid himself of something.
“Wow,” I say.
He turns back and looks at me. “Shit. Almost forgot you were there.”
“That was intense.”
“He doesn’t like me very much.”
“Clearly. And he hates your dad.”
“Yeah, well. He can join the club.”
I bite my lip. “Kicking him out of his office was a bold move.”
“Eh, it’s only for a few more days. It’s more embarrassing and demeaning than anything else.”
“So why do it?”
Cade shrugs. “Because he insulted my father.”
“I thought you hated him.”
“Like I said, my father was family and I always defend family. Even if I hate them.”
He sits back in his chair and rubs his temples, so I decide to leave him alone for a little while.
But eventually one of Ken’s assistants pokes his head into the room. “Office is ready,” he says uncertainly.
Cade gets up and wordlessly follows the guy. I head after them, wincing at my pounding skull. We move through the news room and I get a good glimpse at the people around us, working with their heads down, probably totally unaware of the power struggle that just happen in that conference room.
We move through a side hallway, past a large open studio with bustling people everywhere, a stage set with a news desk, and huge bright lights. Up ahead is an office door, left slightly ajar.
“Here you go,” the guy says. “Anything else I can help with?” he asks.
Cade shakes his head and steps into the room. I smile at the kid as he runs off, looking confused.
I shut the door behind me.
“Wow,” Cade says. “He was going to push back for this?”
I look around and can’t help but laugh. Ken’s office is just a desk near the far wall, a couple bookcases, and another small table with two chairs. There’s a couch on the wall opposite and that’s pretty much it.
Folders and papers and books are scattered all over the place. It’s a mess, to be totally frank, but that’s the only indication that someone ever worked from here. There are no personal artifacts, no pictures or paintings or whatever.
“It’s really barren,” I say.
“It’s a mess.” Cade sighs. “You can have the desk.”
I arch an eyebrow. “Really?”
“Sure. You’re my fiancée.” He turns to me and that little smirk is back.
“You know I’m not really, right?”
“Oh, but I think you are.” He steps closer. “Or at least I think that’s the story we’ll go with.”
“Excuse me?”
“See, I’ve been thinking about it. You want to keep me in check, right? What better way than to tell everyone we’re engaged. That way, you don’t have to worry as much.”
“I’m not sure that’ll work,” I say, still too hungover to think fast enough.
“Maybe, maybe not. But I’m willing to give it a try.” He comes even closer and I’m backed up against the door, my heart racing. He’s so close and so handsome, his eyes bright and excited. “I’ve always wanted a sexy little fiancée,” he whispers. “I could taste you whenever I wanted, feel that tight, wet pussy wrapped right around my cock. I’d love to see your hips work around my tip and watch your body shake as you slide down my length.”
“Cade,” I say, breathless with excitement. I ca
n feel it pooling between my legs, my pussy already starting to soak through despite myself. Shivers move slowly up my spine as he puts one arm against the door, right over my shoulder, his lips coming so close.
I don’t know what it is. Maybe it’s the hangover. I can’t think fast enough because of it. I can’t figure out what to do with my body, how I should get away from him, how I should run.
Or maybe it’s simpler…
Maybe I just want this.
God, I know I want this.
I’ve wanted it since the moment I saw him, even though I thought he was a total arrogant prick. He’s still gorgeous, otherworldly handsome, absurdly chiseled and intense.
But now I’ve seen another side of him, the human side.
And I want it.
“What do you say, little Lucy? Want to be my fiancée?” He reaches up and puts a hand on my cheek, moving it back toward my hair, lacing his fingers through and grasping it gently. “I won’t make you. But I think you’ll like it.”
“I don’t… I can’t…”
“Think about it.” He’s whispering in my ear and it’s driving me wild. “Just think about it. Your skin under my lips.”
“Cade, I—”
His lips move closer to mine.
“Just think.”
And then he kisses me.
Waves of excitement roll over my skin. For a second, I’m hanging in suspense, not sure what to do.
I can’t help it. I wrap my arms around his neck and I kiss him back, tongue in his mouth, tasting him and buzzing on his energy. I groan, barely able to stop myself. I’m moaning into his kiss, my body pressing tight against his big, muscular chest.
His fingers tighten in my hair. He tastes like heaven… like hell.
I pull back, blinking, dazed.
“Cade,” I say.
He smirks at me, head cocked slightly. “I love it when you say my name.”
I slip away from him. It’s like my brain is finally working again. “We can’t do that,” I say quickly. “Oh, god. We really can’t do that.”
“We just did,” he says simply, smiling smugly.
“No, seriously, asshole. We have an entire month to get through. We really can’t start doing that.”
“Seems like a good way to pass the month.”
I set my jaw. “Yeah? Is that all you want, just some girl to fuck for a while to amuse yourself?”
He frowns. “That’s not—”
“Just listen. We’re not doing this. We’re not getting involved. I’m not your real fiancée and we’re not playing any games. You’re going to be a decent human and at the end of this month, we’re both walking away happy. Okay?”
He purses his lips for a moment, thinking it over.
“No,” he says.
I blink. “No?”
“No.” He steps toward me again. “I think I’m going to taste you, little Lucy. I think I’m going to taste every single inch of you sooner or later. You can pretend you want to fight it, but we both know you’re dripping wet and shivering with anticipation right now. So do us both a favor and let me bend you over that desk right now, let me spread you wide and—”
I turn and leave the room.
I don’t think I have any other choice. My heart’s racing and I think if I let him keep going, I would’ve done exactly what. I would’ve let him fuck me, lick me, suck me, whatever he wanted with me. God, I want to turn around and get all of that and more.
I just can’t do it. I can’t go down that road and risk my entire future. I could take care of my parents with that money and live a comfortable life. If I lived frugally, I’d never have to work again. Or I could live off investments. Or something.
I can’t throw that away just because Cade drives me absolutely wild.
I practically run into the women’s room. Fortunately, it’s empty. I splash some water in my face and dry it off with a paper towel before staring at my reflection.
“Get it together,” I whisper. “He’s not that hot.”
God, I’m such a liar.
But it was just one kiss. This doesn’t have to derail all my plans.
Just one kiss. I can still do this.
I take a deep breath and pull myself together.
6
Cade
Holy hell, what a goddamn kiss.
I swear, as soon as my lips touched hers, she was trembling with excitement. I could feel it coming off her in waves.
She wanted me to lick her cunt top to bottom and make her scream.
Instead, she ran away and came back twenty minutes later with a stony expression. When I tried to talk to her, she just shot daggers in my direction. She sat at that little table all day and ignored me when we weren’t sitting in on meetings or watching the production.
That night, I try to go out again, and again she’s there like a barnacle. But instead of being fun and affable, she brings a freaking book.
Seriously. The girl sits across from me and reads a book, studiously ignoring me.
Now, I’m not the kind of person with a fragile ego. If she doesn’t like me, I can handle that. I’ve met plenty of women that aren’t into me and I’ve gotten over every single one of them.
But she wants me. I felt that kiss, I know what she needs. She’s just too stubborn to accept that, sooner or later, we’re going to end up fucking.
And it’s going to be very, very good.
Ah, hell.
“You’re really going to ignore me all night?” I ask her.
She doesn’t reply.
I lean across the table. “What are you reading? Trashy romance, lots of dirty sex?”
Her eyes meet mine for a second. She stares at me coolly then looks back at her book.
“Got it. You’re reading straight up erotica. I understand. Is it like Fifty Shades of Grey, but with more dinosaurs?”
She forces herself not to smile at that one.
I sigh and lean back in the booth, sipping my drink. Oh, well.
I let her have her night. She reads and I have a decent meal and a couple drinks. We’re back at the hotel and up in our rooms at a reasonable hour.
And the next day, we do it all over again. We go to work, she ignores me, we go to the bar, she ignores me.
It actually gets to me the second night. I try not to show it, but she’s doing an amazing job of ignoring me. I want to push her harder, but I decide to hold back. I don’t want to actually upset her or anything, I just…
I just want her to talk to me.
The next day, Thursday, it’s the same thing. The day passes without incident, although I overhear someone mention that Ken is making HR complaints against me, which is amusing.
That night though, I have a plan.
I step out of my room at seven sharp. She’s already waiting for me, a book in hand.
I march up to her. She stands, a little smile on her lips.
I don’t stop. I walk right up, practically backing her into the wall. She blinks with surprise and I swear, she tilts her head.
Instead of kissing her, I gently pull the book from her hands.
“I’ll give this back,” I say softly, “if you play a game with me.”
She frowns but doesn’t reply.
At least she doesn’t say no.
“The game is simple. We ask questions. You ask one, I ask one. That’s it.”
Her frowns deepens.
“There’s no catch. You can lie if you want, I can’t really check your answers. But I promise, I’ll be honest.”
She bites her lip. “Just questions? That’s not even a game.”
I let out a breath. “That’s it.”
“And then you’ll give me the book back when we’re done?”
I nod. “I promise. Although seriously, I don’t know why you love this stuff. It’s like every other urban fantasy out there, just some magic girl with a sword.”
“It’s good,” she says and turns to the elevator. “Come on. Let’s get this over with. I was
at a good part.”
I smile the whole way down and to the bar.
Once we’re seated, I get us some drinks. I hold up my whiskey.
“To a fruitful conversation.”
She rolls her eyes. We clink glasses and drink.
“Who starts?” she asks.
“You do, and that was your first question.”
She groans.
“I’m kidding,” I say, grinning at her. “Go ahead, ask something.”
“Okay.” She chews on her fingernails for a second. “Okay, I got it. What’s the worst thing you’ve ever done?”
I lean back in my seat. “Going for the big questions, huh?” I ask her.
“Might as well. It’s your game.”
“Fair enough.” I sip my whiskey for a second. “I didn’t love my father.”
She arches an eyebrow. “Seriously? That’s the worst?”
“I didn’t love my father,” I repeat softly. “That’s pretty bad.”
“That’s nothing. That’s like… who cares?”
“I care.” I meet her gaze as levelly as I can. “Family is important to me, Lucy. But even from a young age, I never once remember feeling remotely tender toward my father. I never loved him and I don’t think he ever loved me. I wish I could’ve tried harder, but he’s dead now.”
She’s quiet for a long moment. “Huh. I honestly thought you’d say you killed a hooker.”
“Why does everyone always assume people kill hookers? There are so many other professions you can kill.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. Gardeners. Truck drivers. Marketers.”
“Marketers?”
“Mostly because they deserve it.”
She laughs and takes another sip of her drink. I smile a little. Maybe she’s going to warm up to me tonight.
“Okay, okay. Your turn.”
“Why didn’t you quit when you realized my father is a piece of shit?”
She frowns a little bit. “Same reason people stay at bad jobs all the time. I just needed the money.”
I shake my head. “I don’t buy it. You’re smart and you work hard. You could’ve found another job that paid decently well and been fine. What really kept you around?”
She hesitates for a second. “Honestly?”