His Every Need (9 page)

“Don’t tell anyone, okay?” She waited for Shelly to nod. “It’s a really long story,
but my dad owed this guy some money. He agreed to forgive the debt if I went to work
for him.”

“Doing what, breaking kneecaps?”

Allie laughed. “No, but he doesn’t want me working here anymore. He wants my undivided
attention.”

Shelly’s brown eyes bulged. “Allie, does this creep want you to sleep with him?”

Allie opened her mouth to lie, but nothing came out. She was so damn tired of lying.
She wanted to pour out her troubles to someone else for a change.

“Oh my God.” With her hands on her hips, Shelly’s lips thinned into a frown. “You
are so not doing this.”

“He hasn’t actually forced me do anything. But I’ve moved into his house and—”

“Well, you can just move out.”

“It’s not that simple,” Allie said. “I owe him.”

Shelly lowered her voice and leaned her head toward Allie’s. “You are not going to
sleep with some creepy old man.”

“He’s not old. Or creepy. He’s…he’s kind of amazing in that department.” She felt
the rising tide of heat fill her cheeks. The whole experience had been a wakeup call.
Allie discovered she loved sex. At least Trevor sex. Then he’d turned defensive and
cold at the diner and ruined it.

Speculation dawned in Shelly’s eyes. “You like him,” she accused, wagging her finger
under Allie’s nose.

“Maybe. Except when he pulls crap like this.” She hiked her thumb toward Rick the
Dick’s office.

“Oh, honey, I’m telling you, this will end in heartbreak. Some guy is trying to buy
your affection. It’s not right. You deserve a man who will love and respect you. You’re
a beautiful person, Allie, inside and out.”

She had no doubt this whole thing with Trevor would end in disaster. And heartache?
Probably. Allie shook her head. “I’d better go before security tosses me out. And
you’d better get to work before he fires you too.”

“He wouldn’t dare. I know where the bodies are buried. Screw work. Let Rick the Dick
handle the front desk for a change. We’re going to have ourselves a three-martini
breakfast.” Shelly grabbed her purse and tugged Allie toward the door.

Allie dug her heels into the carpet. “It’s not even ten o’clock.”

“It’s always happy hour in Vegas, honey.”

Allie was a little drunk. Okay, maybe more than a little. She’d had two and half cosmos
with her lunch—lunch being a bowl of communal pretzels sitting on top of the bar.

Simmons had told her to call when she needed a ride, but she was tired of being told
what to do. On the sidewalk, she gave Shelly a sloppy hug good-bye before climbing
into a taxi.

“Take care of yourself, kid,” Shelly said.

Outside of the mansion, Allie tossed a twenty to the driver before stumbling into
the house. Inside was cool and dark. She leaned against the front door for a moment,
wishing she had another drink. Her mouth was so dry.

She had decided at the bar that she was going to have a little talk with the British
bastard. He had some splainin’ to do, Lucy. He couldn’t just pick up a phone and get
her fired like that.

As she looked around the foyer, Allie wondered briefly where his parents were, but
the thought flew out of her head as quickly as it formed. Arnold and Frances must
be busy too. That was good. She didn’t want to be interrupted.

She weaved her way down the corridor, slapping her hand on a glass case to steady
herself. This one held elaborate antique brass finials. Trevor collected the weirdest
shit. Pretty but weird. Carefully, putting one foot in front of the other, she made
her way to his office without faltering too much. She dispensed with knocking and
flung open the door, slamming it behind her.

Trevor sat behind his desk, sans jacket. His shirtsleeves were rolled up and his tie…hell,
she didn’t know where his tie was. He held the phone to his ear and gave her a dirty
look as she staggered into the room.

Allie didn’t care who he was talking to. Whoever it was could wait. Right now, she
wanted all of his attention, and she was just soused enough to not care if it pissed
him off.

She walked over to the desk and jerked the phone from his hand. “This is Mr. Blake’s
assistant. He’ll have to call you back.” She hit the end button and tossed the phone
down on the desk.

Slowly, Trevor stood. His nostrils were a little white around the edges, and his gray
eyes narrowed as they pinned her like one of the butterflies on display in the upstairs
hallway. “What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing, Miss Campbell?”

“You”—she shook a finger at him—“are an ash.”

His brows lifted. “You’re drunk.”

“You bet your ash I’m drunk. I’m drunk as a skunk.” She unbuttoned her vest, pulled
it off, and threw it at his head.

He calmly plucked it from his face and placed it on the desk. “Do you always make
it a habit to drink before”—he glanced at his watch—“two in the afternoon?”

“Maybe.” She started unbuttoning her long-sleeved white blouse. “Or maybe I’m just
mad you had Rick the Dick fire me.” She pulled the blouse off and tossed that at him
too.

His gaze got stuck on her breasts. She glanced down at her sheer white bra, the one
with cups shaped like sea shells. Everything was on display. She shrugged. He’d seen
it all anyway.

“Pardon?” he asked.

“Rick the Dick,” she said, unbuttoning her slacks.

“Why are you undressing in my office, Miss Campbell?” He licked his lips and watched
her pull down the zipper.

“Because you’re in here, Mr. Bloody Blake. Where the hell else would I shtrip?” She
kicked off her black tennis shoes as she let the pants drop over her hips, giving
him a good view of how little her panties were concealing.

“But why are you taking off your clothes at all?” He ran a hand over his mouth, his
eyes fixed on her body.

Allie stepped out of the slacks and stumbled a bit as she bent to pick them up. When
she straightened, she felt a little woozy, so she stopped moving for a second and
placed a hand on her forehead. “The room’s a little spinny.” Then she hurled the slacks,
hitting him in the chest.

Trevor stepped around the desk, and as she reached behind her back to unhook the bra,
his hands settled over her arms, preventing her from moving. “Allie, what is going
on?”

“I’m here to fuck you. That’s why I was fired, right?” She tried to pull out of his
hold, but his grasp was too firm. “Let go of me.”

“Allison, stop.” He spun her in his arms, so that his chest rested against her back.
She could feel his shirt buttons press along her spine. Could feel the hardness of
his cock press against her ass.

“Oh God, I’m so dizzy.”

“Yes, I’m sure you are.” As he spoke, his lips brushed her cheek. “Now, I’m sorry
you were fired, but I told you from the beginning you would have to quit.”

“And you couldn’t give me one week to do it? Housework and blow jobs. That’s apparently
all I’m good for.”

He sighed in her ear. “Let’s get you dressed.” He rubbed his hand along her forearm.
“And that’s not all you’re good for. You’ve taken care of your family, Allison, and
put your own needs last. It’s admirable.”

Why did he have be
nice
? That was just like him, to knock her for a loop when she least expected it. She
was pathetic. He paid her one compliment, and she was ready to crumble. Trevor had
tried to take her house. Had taken her car. He was sarcastic and nasty and lashed
out like a whip whenever she asked him something personal. He didn’t care about her,
but when he touched her, all higher-level brain function stopped and her hormones
took over.

“No.” She pushed her back against his chest. “No, you are not doing this to me. I
am pissed. And I want my job back. And my car. And my fucking life.” Suddenly, tears
welled in her eyes and she began to sob. Letting go of his arms, she buried her face
in her hands and cried tears of grief and anger that she had kept pent up for the
last six months. Tears for her family, for her mom. Tears for herself and the life
she should have had.

Trevor petted her hair, soothing her. “You’ve been brave for so long, darling. Let
it all out. Shh, it’s going to be all right.”

His kind words made her cry harder.

Dropping her hands, Allie turned to face him and wrapped her arms around his waist,
letting her forehead rest against his chest. “Liar,” she choked out. “It’s not going
to be all right. It sucks, and it’s going to keep on sucking because that’s what life
is.”

“You don’t believe that. You’ve just had a bad day.” He rubbed little circles along
her bare back with one hand and continued to stroke her hair with the other.

“Thanks to you.”

Trevor maneuvered her over to the chair in front of his desk and pulled her onto his
lap. She turned toward him, resting her head on his shoulder.

“I’m a rotten man.”

“The worst,” she sniffed. “And I’m going out to look for another job tomorrow.”

“Mmm,” he said against her cheek. “We’ll see.”

“I mean it, Trevor. I have to work. When you get another mistress, what am I going
to do? I have to have a job.”

He didn’t say anything but sat, holding, stroking her, comforting her. God, she was
so damn tired. Not just from the crying jag, but from her life.

She didn’t know how long she sat in his lap, but eventually she lifted her head. Trevor
wiped a tear with his thumb and kissed her cheek before standing with her in his arms
and placing her gently back in the chair. She didn’t even bother to cover herself.
She was too weary to care.

He moved to the desk and gathered her clothes, all except for the vest, which he dropped
into the trash can. He held his out his hand. “Let’s get you dressed. Although I’m
fine with nudity, Arnold is such a prude.”

Her eyes were swollen, and she was a little sick to her stomach as she placed her
hand in his. On shaky legs, she stood. “Do you know why I took a job at such a crappy
casino?”

“Yes, because they worked around your schedule when your mother was ill.” He briskly
helped her into the sleeves of her blouse and buttoned her back up, as if she were
a child. Then he knelt before her and guided her feet into the slacks, one foot at
a time.

“I hate you,” she whispered. She clutched his shoulder as she lost her balance, but
Trevor placed his hands on her hips and held her steady.

Gazing up at her with serious eyes, a sad smile touched his lips. “I hate myself sometimes.”
With his hands still wrapped around her, he bent forward and lightly kissed her belly
button. He took a deep breath and fastened the button and zipper on her slacks. Before
he could stand, the office door opened.

“Oh, good, darlings you’re here.” Mags swept into the room but came to a halt at the
sight of Trevor kneeling in front of Allie. “Are you proposing, dearest? Let’s see
the ring.”

She swished forward and grabbed Allie’s hand. Mags looked at her bare finger with
a frown. “Where’s the ring, Trevor? All of my husbands had a ring. Although Francois
put it in the soufflé, and I almost choked to death. Nevertheless, he had a ring.”

Trevor climbed to his feet. “I’m not proposing, Mother. I was helping Allie get dressed.
She feels a need to shed her clothes in my presence.”

Allie blushed furiously. “You know what, Mr. Inappropriate?” She shoved her finger
into his chest. “I’ve had it with you. And I’ve had it with your sharky remarts.”

Trevor raised his brows. “Of course you have.” He turned to Mags. “Now, Mother, I
need to get Allie to bed because, as you can see, she’s a bit wankered.”

“What
does
she do for a living, darling? And where can I sign on?”

***

When Allie awakened, the room was dark. Rubbing her eyes, she moaned, stretched her
legs. Her mouth was desert dry and her head throbbed.

She glanced at the clock on the bedside table. Almost time for dinner. She wasn’t
sure how long she’d been out, but she clearly remembered what had happened in Trevor’s
office.

Allie buried her head in the pillow, feeling totally conflicted. Did she want to go
back home? Yes. Did she want to walk out and never see him again? No. She was starting
to
like
him, for God’s sake. She wanted to have sex with him again—just to make sure the
first sensational time hadn’t been a fluke. But she was also angry because he was
ruining her already complicated life. What a mess.

When she sat up and swung her legs to the floor, the throbbing in her head grew stronger.

A knock sounded at the door, and before she could call out, Trevor walked in. The
light from the hallway kept him in silhouette. “Ah good, you’re up. How are we feeling?”

His loud, chipper voice pierced her skull. “Keep it down, English.”

“Poor Miss Campbell.” He strolled toward her and flipped on the bedside lamp.

“Ugh.” Allie squinted and held up a hand to shield her eyes from the brightness.

“Have a hangover? That’s what happens when we drink our lunch.”

“
We
didn’t drink our lunch. I did. So, stop saying the royal we.”

“Still cross, I see.”

“Maybe your sparkling personality is rubbing off on me.”

He smiled. “You should be so lucky.” Trevor held out his hand. “Here.”

She looked down at the two pills in his palm.

“It’s just aspirin to help with the headache you’re undoubtedly feeling.”

“I need water.”

With a deep sigh, as if she were the most tiresome person in the world, he walked
to the bathroom and came back with a full glass. “Open up.”

Allie obediently opened her mouth, and he popped the pills on her tongue, then handed
her the glass.

“Do you need help getting dressed? Again? Although undressing you is much more entertaining.”

Ignoring him, she stood and walked into the bathroom. She very quietly shut the door
behind her and locked it. Hopefully, he would take the hint and leave while she took
a shower. Doubtful. He didn’t take hints. Subtlety was wasted on Trevor.

Allie shed her clothes and stood under the hot water. It felt good on her gritty skin.

After she toweled off, Allie drank another glass of water and brushed her teeth. Close
to feeling human again, she looked at herself in the mirror. Her damp hair was a tangled
mess and her eyes were slightly bloodshot. Never again. Day drunk wasn’t pretty.

As she gently ran a brush through her hair, she heard a noise in the other room. Grabbing
her robe off the hook, she shrugged into it and opened the bathroom door.

Trevor had taken off his dinner jacket and lounged on the bed, leaning against the
headboard. His large body seemed to take up most of the mattress. What would it be
like to share a bed with him? And what did he sleep in—pajama pants? Nothing at all?
Her cheeks grew warm, and she cinched her robe a little tighter.

His eyes swept over her, lingering on her chest before lazily drifting up to her face.
“You keep staring at me like that, Miss Campbell, and we’ll definitely be late to
dinner.”

She gathered the lapels of her robe together with one hand.

“Then why don’t you give me some privacy?”

He shifted to his side, propping himself on his elbow. “You didn’t give me any privacy
this afternoon. I was in the middle of an important business meeting. Your little
strip show was very distracting.”

She took a deep breath and tried for calm and unaffected. “I apologize for that. I
don’t usually drink, but when I get fired for no reason—”

“How long are you going to be angry about that, love?”

She took a step toward him. “You took away my livelihood. Yeah, I’m angry. And I’m
sure I will be for quite a while, so get used to it.” The aspirin hadn’t kicked in
yet, and her head was pounding. Why did she even bother? She never won an argument
with him. The deck was stacked against her.

“I told you to quit, Allison. And I’ll provide whatever you need. You’ve only to ask.”

She forced a smile. “Some privacy would be great.”

She hated being indebted to him. She didn’t want him to provide for her. It made her
feel weak and helpless, a feeling she’d been acquainted with since her mom got cancer.
She was tired of feeling that way.