SLOW - The Story of Signy and Aden, #1 (3 page)

I turn away fuming as I gather up my stuff to get ready to go home. "What the hell was that?" I ask, after Jax has left. "I just came to get my shirt! I mean seriously, who says that?"

The door clicks closed and I jump a little, startled by the audacity of this man. "Why are you here?" I stop putting my things away and watch him stalk up to me, like he's a predator and I'm the prey.

"I'm here about the job, remember?"

I snort, I'm sorry, it just comes out. "The job? After we just—" Hmmm…what to call that exactly? I squint as he takes over the conversation.

"After
you
just," he corrects me, "took advantage of a potential employee when all he wanted was a job?"

"You're joking, right? You're the one who put the porn on, you came on to me, ripped my shirt off for Pete's sake!"

"Sorry, Miss Mason," he says as his eyes stare down at me half closed, like he's remembering our little tryst. He's way too seductive for my comfort level right now, I mean I get it—we messed around a little and it was pretty sexy, but shit!

"That's not the way my surveillance equipment sees it, Miss Mason." It's only then that I notice he's got a tablet and his fingers are swiping across the screen.

I hear
me
, groaning all sexual and stuff, and wince as Aden turns it around so I can see the screen.

And there I am! "Holy fuck! You filmed me! That is so illegal!"

His laugh cuts me off and I frown as the
me
on the screen stops panting mid-moan when he hits pause. "You film people in compromising positions all the time, Signy. All I want is a job, and you need a spy guy, so what's the problem? Didn't I pass your background check?"

This guy is trouble, I can feel it.

There is no way in hell I want him working for me. But he's got me legally because number one— that
is me
panting out his name and ordering him to make me come in his truck. And number two, I don't have the money to fight a legal action against me. "No, actually, you passed. But you see, that guy who left was my accountant and I'm out of money. So I have to put this position on hold. I simply can't afford it."

"Oh," he quips, "but thirty minutes ago, before you wanted to ask me for sexual favors, you
could
afford it? Is that your story? Because I'm pretty sure that won't hold up when I file a complaint against you at the state labor board."

"You snake!" My finger points up at him accusingly, "It was YOU!"

He taps out on the screen and once again, my moans fill the room.
"Please make me come! Please!"
I lunge for it, but he dodges my attack, swings me around, and bends me over the desk. "What the hell are you—"

His bulge is hard against my ass and I stop talking. He rubs it against me, pushing it into the space between my legs and he sets the tablet down and leans over my back, holding my arms firmly on the desk.

"Now listen, Signy—I need this job, understand? I get it, you're strapped for cash." He slides his cock against me again, like he wants to fuck me from behind right this second. I can't help it, a little teeny tiny moan of horniness escapes my lips. "But I'm gonna do you a favor and work with you on this. You split everything with me fifty-fifty, how's that sound?"

I whimper a little, distracted by his member between my ass cheeks.

"Signy? I asked you a question."

I pull my attention away from his dick and clear my throat. "Yeah," I moan out. "OK, I mean, how can I say no to that, right?"

He breathes a sigh of relief and backs away, leaving me bent over on the desk. I pull myself up, straighten my hair and paint on a scowl of disgust. "If you ever try that again, Mr. Marzano, I will take away your baby-making privileges. How's
that
sound?"

"I'd love to see that, Miss Mason. Love. To. See. That."

He smirks at me for several seconds and I'm totally lost in my astonishment. Just two hours ago I was a normal twenty-two year old with a thriving business, looking forward to stalking out some cheating wife alone, and collecting a grand of cash tomorrow. Now I'm dead broke, this money won't make a dent in my obligations, I totally let a stranger eat me out, and then I sucked his dick for good measure.

And
now
, I've got to give him half the money I make tonight and live with the fact that he could probably sue me any time he wants over said sexual encounter.

I blow out some air and my hair goes flying above my eyes. "Whatever then. I'm going home to relax. I'll meet you back here when the sun goes down and we'll go from there. The husband is out of town and he says his wife gets off at ten, so should we should have plenty of time to get in, plant some eyes, and get out before she gets home. Why are you smiling at me like that?"

It's pissing me off, because he's acting like I'm the entertainment or something.

"You're just suddenly so…reasonable. I like it." He's looking at me like he's hungry again.

"Whatever." I motion to the door. "Out. I'm locking up."

He steps out in to the hallway and I grab my stuff, pull the door closed behind me and head to the elevator.

"Hey, Signy? I have one more favor to ask. You mind if I take a shower at your place?"

My lip sneers at him. "You're joking, right? Who the fuck—"

"Sorry. But I just rolled into town today and my place isn't ready yet. I can't get the key until tomorrow. I just need a shower, unless you want to smell me all night?"

I punch the elevator button repeatedly and wait, tapping my foot in agitation. Who the hell does this guy think he is? "Look, Aden. I get it— you're cute, you're fun, and you're used to getting whatever you want. But right now, I can't stand you. You're blackmailing me into giving you half my money, which isn't much to begin with, but—"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" He puts his hands up as the elevator doors open and we step in. I stab the first floor button and the doors close as he continues. "I'm not taking your money, Signy. I'm the one who's gonna get the evidence, remember? I'm your spy guy."

"I don't need a stupid spy guy for this job, OK? This is an open and shut, wife is cheating on husband, plant a little flower cam in the bedroom, job. Nothing more. I am a professional. My mother started Private Peepers from nothing more than twenty years ago. She taught me everything she knew. Before I was the owner of Private Peepers, I
was the spy guy
, Aden. I am capable of handling this job without you and you're making me take you along
and
you're stealing half my money in the process. Get it?"

The doors open and we exit into the parking garage. It's so freaking hot, his sweaty gross t-shirt immediately starts to stick to my body. My legs are striding across the concrete before he has a chance to respond but he trots to catch up with me and grabs my arm just as I reach my bike.

"So, can I take a shower, or not?"

"This is Vegas, Aden. I live in a hotel like half the other struggling young people in the city. Why don't you try getting a room for the night, then you won't have to come over to my place, huh?"

"Oh, great idea. I'll just follow you to your place and get a room there, how's that? Better?"

I shake his arm off me, sling my pack on my back, slam my helmet down on my head, and start up my motorcycle. I don't wait for him, I just put her in gear, lay on the throttle, and take off.

Maybe he'll get lost and give up on this stupid proposal. I mean,
what the hell
? He's got all that experience and that tricked-out truck, and he wants to do divorce court shit
with me
? I don't get it. My tires squeal as I take the turns in the garage and when I look behind me I expect to see nothing, having left him behind.

But nope.

There he is. His big, white beast of a truck is right behind me as I exit the garage and slip into the early evening traffic.

I stop at a light and he pulls up on the right, slides his window down, and winks at me.
Winks at me!

"Hey, Sig— " I bristle at the nickname. It's not turning me on, it's pissing me off. Only my closest friends get to call me Sig. "Don't lose me, OK?"

I wink back. "Right.
Lose you
." The light turns green and I grip the throttle and take off, weaving in and out of traffic, changing lanes, slip into a few alleys for good measure, and then ten minutes later, pull into the good old Bushy Palms Hotel.

It's an old one, been in Vegas since the 1940's, a classic from the early days back when this city was the illegitimate bastard child of Bugsy Siegel, and I love the knock-off art deco style and atmosphere.

I pull my bike up to my door and immediately wish I hadn't. Susannah, the front desk girl, a.k.a, the owner's current ditzy flavor of the month, is running towards me in her high heels. I watch her as I turn the engine off and remove the helmet from my sweaty head.

Her spiky red shoes click across the hot asphalt, one heel gets stuck momentarily in an crevice and she does a weird jumpy-hop move to wiggle it free. I briefly wonder if she's gonna kill herself as she continues her sprint in my direction.

"Signy! Signy!" She's yelling and waving at me now. I know what she wants. The same thing everyone wants. When she reaches me she's out of breath and takes a minute, her hand over her heart like she's about to recite the Pledge or something, to pull it all back together.

I wait it out.

Finally she's ready and she thrusts a small piece of paper at me.

"What's this?"

"Clark left it for you. I don't know what it is," she says emphatically, "I swear."

"Whatever. You tell Clark I'll get him his money tomorrow, got it? Tell him I got a job tonight and I'll have a thousand bucks to hand—"

I stop talking because that bastard Aden pulls his truck into the lot and slides up next to my bike, that cocky grin plastered on his face.

"You tell Clark I'll have $500 for him—"

"Signy, not enough! We're full up and people are on a waiting list for the weekly rooms. He says all of it or he's kicking you out!"

"He better not kick me out, Suzie! I swear."

Aden gets out of the truck and we both stop to
look
drool over him. He's still shirtless and in the late afternoon sun he looks more like the God of all-that-is-hot-and-sexy than a private peeper. I didn't really get a proper look at him in the parking garage, but in the late afternoon sun he is stunning as the orange and reds and yellows on the western horizon blanket his body in a surreal glow. His upper body is cut and if I didn't know better I'd peg him for a guy who works outside all day with a hard hat and some kind of power tool, or maybe with one of those meshy orange vests on over his bare sweaty chest as he works the jackhammer over broken concrete.

I shake myself out of the fantasy because I'm lost in his eyes now. They are a bright blue, not a gray or a greenish-blue. But a seriously sapphire blue—especially when he turns his head and the sunlight hits them. They track to me first and then he notices Suzie.

Suzie puts on her sluttiest seductive smile and steps towards him. "Can I help you?" She practically shoves her tits in his chest, she's so freaking close to him.

I tug her back by the arm and she almost falls over in those stupid slut-heels. "He's with me, Suze. Just tell Clark I'll have it tomorrow, OK?"

She teeters there expectantly, like she's waiting for an introduction or something, and Aden puts his arm around me. "Changed your mind, did you? Wow, that was fast, Sig. I expected more of a fight to be honest."

"They're full up, dumbass. I thought I'd be nice and let you shower so we can put this whole day to bed."

His hand dips to my ass and pats it.
Pats it!

"Sounds good to me, Sig."

I pull my key card out of the back pocket of my shorts and slip it in the reader, then swing the door open and wave Aden into the room. He's got a pack on his shoulder and smiles at Suzie once more, dazzling her speechless with dimples and a twinkle in his eye
(a fucking twinkle! I swear!)
before accepting my invitation.

I follow him and throw the card on the table beside the love seat, then go over to the window and crank up the AC. It takes me several tries to get the high setting to come on (the knob sticks a little and you have to jiggle it) and when I turn around all I see is Aden's dick standing at attention across the room.

"Holy shit! What the hell? What are you doing?"

Obviously I know what he's doing, but what do you say to a bouncing cock?

"Look, I get it. I led you on in the truck, I sucked your dick and all that, and now you think I'm some easy tramp you can have whenever you want, but I'm not—"

He steps into the bathroom, closing and
locking
the door, and then all I hear is the shower.

"Hey! I was talking to you, ya know!" I scream it because that is just rude.

The door opens again and he steps out, still naked. Still standing at attention.