Flashes of Me (4 page)

I want his presence to fill me. “And what needs are those?” My voice is husky.

His eyes gleam. “The need to set some rules.”

Chapter Three

H
ENLEY PACES THE
small room, his movements drawing my gaze. I sink into one of the black leather chairs, the seat cushioning my ass.

“The dress code at Blaine Technologies is strict,” he informs me. “The preference is a black suit. Gray and navy blue are also acceptable colors.”

“I don’t wear black.” I fold my hands on top of the tiny table and Henley glares at me. “My father told me not to wear black, so I don’t,” I explain.

Henley’s face softens. “Your father’s not here.”

My father isn’t here and I miss him desperately, having spent the last five years by his side. He isn’t alone; neither of us are. My father has my mother to keep him company and I now have a rule-setting behemoth.

“When I give my word, I don’t break it.” I lean forward, willing Henley to understand. “Business deals are built on trust—”

“And trust is built on truth,” Henley completes my father’s saying.

“You remembered.” I smile at him, pleased.

“Yes.” Henley resumes his pacing, striding back and forth, back and forth, his hands gripped tightly behind his back as though he’s winding up for another round of his rules. “When we’re at work, we have to be professional. No taking our clothes off. No touching. No talking about sex.”

“Is thinking about sex okay?” I skim my fingertips over the collar of my blazer. “Because I think about having sex with you all of the time. Right now I’m thinking about sucking you off.” I play with my top button. “Can I fit your entire cock in my mouth?” I drop my gaze to Henley’s groin. His dress pants tent over an impressively large bulge. “I don’t think that’s possible. You’re huge.”

“This is a serious matter.” As Henley passes behind me, he drifts his fingertips over my shoulders and I feel his touch through my blazer, his promise of more caresses unspoken. My nipples tighten in anticipation.

“I agree. This
is
a very serious matter.” I wiggle in my seat. “Our first time is important. It is a defining point in our relationship, and I haven’t had sex in five years. I’ll need some guidance. You’ll have to tell me how hard to suck and warn me when you’re about to shoot your hot cum down my throat. I don’t want to lose a drop.”

He reaches above the closed door and his suit jacket pulls up, revealing a gorgeously tight ass. Henley fiddles with the camera, the click declaring his intentions.

“The professional rules apply only to public spaces.” He sits across from me, rolling his chair away from the table. “And you’re not sucking my cock today.”

“No?” I glance down at Henley’s groin. “But your cock needs to be sucked.” He pats one of his thighs. “And I want to give you what you need.” I rise to my feet, circle the table, and slide onto his lap. His legs are firm, his muscles unrelenting, his strength reassuringly palpable. He’s healthy and male and I’ll make him mine.

“I decide what I need.” Henley hooks one of his arms around me and pulls me into his big body. He’s warm and hard, the ridge in his dress pants pushing against my ass. “We’re at work.”

I swing my legs to the left, perching on one of his thighs, and smile up at him. “We’re not in public.” I brush my fingertips over his square chin, his skin smooth. “Misbehave with me, Henley.” I lean forward and press my lips against his.

Henley stiffens, his mouth remaining closed to me, his lips motionless, and I pull away, his silent rejection slicing into my heart. He groans and surges forward, capturing my face between his grooved palms, smashing our lips together.

I gasp and he invades, his tongue sliding along mine, exploring, conquering, claiming. He tastes of black coffee and a distinctive flavor I suspect is all him, and I open more to him, hungry for his kiss, hungry for him.

I flatten my hands against the lapels of his jacket, savoring the sensation of soft fabric pulled tight over hard body, and I close my eyes, focusing on his tongue stroking in and out of my mouth, his cologne, his heat, giving myself totally to him.

For a big man, he touches me delicately, his grip on my face light yet sure. He grazes my cheeks with his rough thumbs, his caresses lighting sensual fires within me.

I moan, tilting my head back, the movement tousling my hair. Henley tangles his fingers in my cascading curls and his breath hitches, the slight sound exciting me. As he plays with my hair, I become the aggressor, learning the shape and feel of his mouth, clasping his nape with my hands, his neck thick, his form solid against my breasts.

Without breaking our kiss, I turn and straddle him, my gaze meeting his. My skirt hikes up, baring more of my skin. Henley’s big hands drop and he cups my ass, pushing me against the ridge in his dress pants, securing me.

This is what I need. I grind my wet panties against him, the delightful pressure easing some of my torment. The scent of my musk, of my desire, mixes with his cologne. He kneads my ass and I swivel my hips, his hardness divine.

He’ll feel even better without any barrier between us. I lower my hands to his belt and struggle with the buckle.

“No.” Henley covers my hands with his, stopping me.

I frown, confused. His eyes are the blackest black and his erection is unabated. “You want me.”

“I want you too much to rush this.” He turns me away from him, handling me as though I weighed nothing. “Your little friend is waiting for us.” Henley pushes me gently off his lap, forcing me to my feet. “And you may not worry about your reputation but I do.” He tugs on the hem of my skirt.

My behemoth worries about me. He’s putting my reputation before his physical needs. “You’re taking care of me.” No one has ever taken care of me. I’ve always taken care of others.

Henley straightens my blazer. “You’re one of my people now.” He threads his fingers through my hair, smoothing the curls around my face. “And I’ll protect you.”

I grasp his hands and swipe my thumbs over his scarred palms. “I know you will protect me.” I doubt my giant suffered such pain to save himself. He hurt himself protecting someone else. My heart squeezes. He must have loved that someone very much. “I appreciate it. I’m sure she does also.”

“Did,” Henley corrects. “I failed my mom and she died.” He stands, looming over me, his expression heartbreakingly grave.

He failed to protect his mom, hurting himself in the process. I don’t say anything, as words can’t ease the grief or dissipate the bone-deep sorrow. Instead I curl my fingers around his, silently telling him I care. I’m here, by his side. He’s no longer alone.

Henley meets my gaze. “You notice more than fashion, don’t you?”

“Sometimes.” I force a cheery smile, unable to tolerate the somber mood, the sadness suffocating me. “Don’t tell anyone or you truly will damage my reputation.” I wink at him and his lips quirk upward. “Can we break your rules this once? I want to hold your hand when we exit this room.”

“We can’t always have what we want, kitten.” Henley releases my hands. His erection has eased, his professional demeanor restored. “We’ll take the elevator.” He opens the door.

“No more stairwells for me.” I breathe deeply as I pass him, exiting the small office. His scent soothes me.

We walk down the hallway. A tall thin man with a ridiculously large handlebar moustache strides toward us. His gaze lifts above my head, his eyes widen, and he turns abruptly to the left.

As we pass cubicles, conversations stop, the silence eerie. A plump woman in an ill-fitting designer suit approaches us. Her face pales and she pivots on her heels, takes two brisk strides in the other direction, ducks into an office, shutting the door behind her.

We stop at the elevators. “Everyone is scared of you,” I tease.

Henley jabs the button. “Yes.” His lips are flat and his face is dark. Their fear hurts him.

My humor evaporates. “You’re huge.” I maintain my smile. I’ve heard the stories about dead bodies, missing people, eliminated threats. More than Henley’s size scares his coworkers. “It could be worse.”

“Could it be worse?” he rumbles, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his pants.

“At least people take you seriously.” I arch my back, sticking out my generous chest. Henley’s gaze doesn’t move from my face. “No one assumes you’re a dumb blonde.”

He grunts, saying nothing. The elevator doors slide open. I enter first. He pushes behind me and presses the button for the fourth floor. The three dark-suited men already in the elevator take one look at Henley and step away from us. I face them, standing in front of my behemoth, protecting him.

An unacceptable silence falls in the small space. The men have passcards clipped to their belts. They’re coworkers. They should, at the very least, acknowledge our presence.

“Hi. I’m Kat.” I beam at the men. They stare back at me, gazing at me as though I have three heads. “Though my manager, Miss Yen, calls me Purple. I think it is because of my lavender suit.” I pluck at my blazer. “Isn’t it lovely? Yes, it is last season but I simply can’t discard it, not when I have the shoes to match.” I stretch out my right leg, showing them one of my shoes. “They’re perfect, aren’t they? It took me ages to find the exact right shade.”

I pause, allowing the men the opportunity to contribute to my one-sided conversation. Their gazes flick between Henley and me, their foreheads furrowed with lines. The poor darlings are confused.

I take a deep breath and continue with my stream of senseless babble. “I’m an intern. Today is my first day working with Blaine Technologies and I don’t know many people, well, except for Mr. Henley.” I glance over my right shoulder. Henley’s eyes glint. “He’s been very kind to me, very, very kind.” My voice lowers suggestively and his thick eyebrows knit together.

I return my gaze to the three men. “Everyone is so nice.” I increase the wattage on my smile, my cheeks aching with the effort. “You look like nice people also . . . and smart,” I add. “My father says a company is the reflection of its people. After meeting you, I know why Blaine Technologies is one of the best companies in North America.”

“In the world, miss,” the taller man squeaks. “Now that we’ve bought our biggest rival.” The men nod vigorously. They resemble three office-themed bobblehead dolls.

“Oh, yes, you bought your rival.” My smile is genuine. Blaine Technologies bought my family’s company. “Volkov Industries is another wonderful company, founded by two brilliant brothers. I understand the eldest brother gets most of the attention but the youngest brother develops the product.”

The doors open. “Out.” Henley pushes me out of the elevator.

“Oops. Gotta go.” I laugh as the doors close, the men’s expressions reflecting shock.

Henley shakes his head. “Why do you play that role?”

“I play that role because thinking I’m a dumb blonde makes them happy.” I glance around me. A huge bruiser of a man sits behind a desk, his chair positioned to the left of highly secured double doors. “They feel smart. My father says happy smart men work harder.” I stride toward this gatekeeper. “Hi. I’m Kat.” I hold out my hand.

The big man hesitates, his gaze moving from me to Henley and back to me, and he grasps my fingers. “Grant.” His eyes glow. “And we all know who you are, miss.” He squeezes and releases my hand.

“Grant,” Henley growls.

I maintain my smile. “That’s okay, Henley.” I lean toward Grant and whisper, “I was testing the cameras in the stairwell.”

The big man leans forward and whispers back, “They’re working.”

“Grant,” Henley repeats, the command in his voice thrilling me. He’s dominant and mine.

Grant’s spine straightens. “Your other guest has been isolated in the boardroom as you instructed, Mr. Henley, sir. She accessed level three before we detected her presence.”

“That’s unacceptable.” Henley frowns, his expression growing even more fierce. “Call for a department meeting at two o’clock.”

Camille must be his other guest. I chew on the inside of my cheek. What has she done now?

“Yes, sir.” Grant nods curtly. “Lunch has already been delivered.”

“Thank you.” Henley waves his passcard over the security box by the door, punches eight digits into the keypad, and presses his thumb against a small screen. Multiple locks click and he opens the door, holding it for me.

“What was that about?” I hustle along the glass-lined hallway. Every room is locked, the doors closed. Grim-faced men and women in dark suits stare at screens.

“We had a security breach.” Henley places his palm on my back, guiding me through the labyrinth of glass and electronics. “I have zero tolerance for security breaches. We’re responsible for the safety of the company.”

“You protect everyone.” My chest fills with pride. “I’ll try not to access anything I shouldn’t.” I lower my voice suggestively.

“You’re not the intern I’m concerned about.” Henley ignores my sexual innuendo. As we turn the corner, Camille ducks her head out of an open doorway. She sees us, her eyes widen, and she pulls her head back into the room.

“Impossible,” Henley mutters as he steers me through the doorway, into a luxurious boardroom. The floor-to-ceiling windows are heavily tinted. The walls are painted gray, the carpet is a shade darker than the walls, and the modern artwork is equally monochrome.

Camille is seated at a long black table, scowling down at her phone, acting as though she’s been sitting there for hours. Three takeout containers, white china plates and sets of silverware are placed in front of her. The scent of ginger fills my nostrils and my stomach rumbles.

Camille looks up and feigns surprise, her acting abilities extremely poor. “Mr. Henley. Purple.” Her pale cheeks flush. She hastens to her feet and her phone clatters to the tabletop.

I wait for Henley to call Camille on her antics, to mention the security breach, to accuse her of jeopardizing the safety of employees. He doesn’t. He calmly strides to a small bar fridge and extracts three bottles of water, clasping them in one big hand. “Is this okay?” We both nod.

Henley returns to the end of the table, sets the bottles down, arranges our plates and utensils, and opens the takeout containers. Camille takes the seat to his right, her expression adoring. I sit to his left. He doesn’t look at or speak to either of us, the silence disturbing me.