More Than Meets the Ink (26 page)

“And waste this wonderful morning wood?”

His quiet laughter rumbled through her. “So that’s the reason you wake up every morning, no matter how quiet I am, huh? In hopes of abusing me?”

“What can I say? You look mouthwatering coming out of the shower all wet and slippery and with such a fine morning hard-on. Who could blame me?”

James’s cell began buzzing, and he groaned in displeasure, leaning his forehead on hers. “Oh hell, I have to go, love. Zack is going to have a cow if I don’t.”

Reluctantly he got up and began dressing. His impressive morning hard-on had gotten even more impressive, and he winced while tucking himself inside the jeans. “Will you come by today to take me out to lunch? I very much enjoyed it when you came the other day.”

Yeah, she bet he had. A couple of days ago she’d decided to make up for not getting to take him to eat waffles that day she ended up at her parents’ place, so she passed by his office to take him out for lunch, or so she’d intended. James had dragged her to his office, turned the lock on the door, and proceeded to fuck the hell out of her on his desk. His secretary fantasy, he’d informed her as he’d pushed her skirt up, propped her on the table, and began licking and probing between her thighs.

It was so naughty that she’d had to fight not to come at his first lick. They were alone in the whole office, but at any second, anyone could have come in and come knocking at their door. Luckily no one had caught them. That possibility, though, had made her come explosively.

“
You don’t have a secretary, right
?” she’d asked suspiciously afterward.

“
No
.”

“
Good. Don’t even think about getting one
,” she warned him. “
I won’t like it
.”

He’d chuckled, tipped her chin and gazed into her eyes. “
You don’t have to worry; I won’t
.”

After an hour, they’d left his office, her as limp as a noodle, her stomach empty, sure, but satisfied in the extreme. She was so limp and pleased that when on their way out she saw Zack and Tim carrying some boxes in, she couldn’t find it in her to kick up a fuss for James hiring him. She narrowed her eyes on James, but he just shrugged.

“
He’s a great kid. I had to hire him. It was that or kick his lying butt every time he missed work in Rosita’s, and you wouldn’t want me manhandling your staff, would you? Besides, he is talented, and he can do better than sit around fixing up broken old computers
.”

Tate had harrumphed and let it go, mainly because her throat had swollen shut. If she attempted to talk, she’d have made a mess of herself and her feelings. She’d known Tim had been working at Technogeeks; what she hadn’t known was that James had known too. Damn the guy, she liked him even when he was being arrogant and meddling.

Snapping out of her reverie, Cassie watched him get dressed. “Maybe I’ll come take you out to lunch,” she said. My, what was so sexy about a barefoot, naked man in jeans? It made her mouth water. “Although you shouldn’t get used to getting your way that easily.”

He chuckled. “Easy? I wouldn’t call you easy. You’re as difficult and complicated as they come, sweetheart.”

As he grabbed his jacket from the sofa, something fell to the floor with a loud thud. A black velvet box.

Tate froze. If that was what it seemed, she was going to have a panic attack.

He saw that Tate’s eyes were glued to the little box. He picked it up, and then rubbed the back of his neck. “Shit. I wanted to give it to you tonight, not now in a hurry. I guess there’s no chance you’ll wait until then, right?”

Was he kidding? “What is it?” Her panic must have been written all over her face, for he laughed.

“Breathe, Tate, breathe; you’re going to pass out at this rate. It isn’t what it looks like. Open it. If you don’t like it, we can change it.”

With shaky fingers, she opened it. Inside the box, there was a beautiful golden ring, a captive bead ring with a teardrop, and hanging from it was a gorgeous emerald stone. It was a clitoral piercing, dangle included.

“I thought that would look fantastic on you. The green of the emerald on your fair skin, dangling over those flushed pussy lips of yours. Nuzzling at it while I lick you is going to be heart-stopping. I can’t wait to play with it.”

As her mind conjured the scene, her womb convulsed and her clit throbbed. Jesus, the things he could do to her with just one word.

“Thanks, James. This is gorgeous.” She was going to get an appointment in the beauty salon where she’d got the piercing and ask them to change the rings.

“You don’t need any pussy piercing to hold my attention, princess, but if you insist on wearing one, it’s going to be mine, not something you got to entice other guys.” He kissed her and, with a wink, left.

She grazed that little piece of jewelry with her fingertips. Cute gesture, she thought, nothing more.

Why then did it feel as bonding as an engagement ring? And furthermore, why on earth couldn’t she wait to put it on?

* * *

She knew the whole damn place smelled like a bakery but didn’t care. The second James stepped in, he frowned. Clever boy.

“What’s up?” James asked, hugging her from behind. For some weird reason, when Tate got really pissed, the only thing that seemed to calm her down was baking. By now, he knew her well enough not to ask how come there were more than six pies on the counter.

“I fired Clint,” she muttered. “He was being a complete ass, as always. Sneering, undermining me, bullying the girls, and I finally had enough, so I took him into the kitchen, called him on it, and things got out of hand.”

He tensed behind her. “Got out of hand, how?”

Noticing his sudden tension, she let out a snort. “No, nothing like that.” She didn’t doubt for a second James would mop the floor with him if he dared to do as much as touch her. Or scream at her, which of course he’d done, not that she was going to say anything to James. She could deal with her own disasters, or her own screaming matches, as was the case. “I ordered him to take a couple of days to cool off and not bother to come back without a complete attitude adjustment, and do you know what the asshole said to me? He said I’d be the same incompetent person in two days. That I was a stupid bitch, and he was tired of putting up with me.
He
was tired of putting up with me! Can you believe it? So I fired him.”

“And?”

She snorted. “I feel great, obviously; can’t you tell?”

“So why the pies?”

“I’m pissed at myself. I should’ve fired him months ago.” How she’d been such a moron for such a long time when it came to the restaurant and especially to Clint annoyed her. She was the boss, and she was in charge, dammit! Enough of stupid sentimentalisms and second-guessing herself. From now on, it was her way or no way at all.

“Good for you,” he whispered. “I knew sooner or later you’d get around to it. And it wasn’t too late; I wouldn’t have let it come to that. I would’ve intervened first. So don’t worry, baby, you were just a bit behind schedule.”

She frowned reprovingly at him, but it didn’t have any effect on him; he just grinned and kissed the side of her neck. He knew she couldn’t resist him, never mind how outrageous his words or behavior got. It put her at such a disadvantage.

“What are you doing?” He looked over her shoulders to the job applications in front of her. “Are you hiring someone?”

She nodded. “It’s getting too busy to be understaffed. I already contacted a couple of interesting prospects. They’re coming for interviews the day after tomorrow.”

“Great. How was the new waitress, by the way? Is she still around or did Clint manage to scare her away?”

At that very moment, Paige came out of the kitchen, and as she approached them, she signaled to the pies on the counter. “What do you want me to do with those?”

It was time to take them to the kitchen; there were only a handful of diners left anyway. “Take a couple in, and I’ll bring the rest myself. Paige, this is James. James, Paige, the new waitress.”

“Nice to meet you, Paige,” he greeted her.

She nodded, took one pie in each hand, and walked away and into the kitchen.

“So that’s the new girl you hired?” James said, turning his amused gaze to Tate. “A Goth girl full of facial piercings and a two-inch leather choke collar around her neck?” Tate nodded. “In an Italian restaurant?”

“She’s great. I like her. She’s…colorful.”

“Colorful? Tate, my love, she’s dressed all in black. Even her lipstick is black.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “You know what I mean. She’s fine. And she makes one mean mojito.”

“And that’s relevant in an Italian restaurant?”

“Very. Fusion is in, haven’t you heard?”

His shoulders shook with laughter, and he turned her in his arms, kissing her, a devastating kiss that left her dazzled and itching for more. “You taste so good, princess. I missed you today.”

Sure she tasted good; she’d been sampling all her creations. Maybe it wasn’t all the baking that relaxed her but all the extra sugar she wolfed down while she was at it.

“Me too. I couldn’t come by; I’ve been in here the whole day. The suppliers brought some new samples, and Nils got inspired. We tried a couple of new dishes; there’s still some left if you want to try. Go ask Tim; they must already be tidying up.” There were only two tables occupied, and desserts had already been served. It looked like she and her staff were almost done for the night.

“Great, I’m starving. Coming?”

“In a sec. You go ahead.”

He kissed her. “Okay, babe.”

As he turned toward the kitchen, three women came in.

She wasn’t expecting any more diners at this late hour, so when they headed for the cigarette vending machine, she wasn’t surprised. She almost dropped dead, though, when the tits on a stick platinum blonde dressed in a tight business suit made a beeline for James and threw herself into his arms. James stepped back, caught off guard, his hands at his sides, not embracing her. It didn’t seem to matter to her. She perched herself on him and went on her tiptoes to kiss him, but before her lips touched his, he swiftly grabbed her arms and broke the embrace, putting distance between them.

Oh God! Tate’s legs buckled, and she had to grab the counter not to find herself on her ass. She was too far away to hear what they were saying, but the blonde was evidently flirting, her wandering hands tracing his chest, her wanton fingers playing with the buttons of his shirt. He stilled her hands several times, said something to her, and pulled them away from his chest. She just laughed and continued at the first opportunity.

“Tate,” he said, walking toward her, tits on a stick on his heels. “This is Faith, a friend.”

Faith threw him an amused look. “A friend? Is that what it’s called nowadays?” Then she turned to Tate and to her friends near the vending machine and explained, “James is just being discreet; we screw each others’ brains out every time we get together.”

Fortunately Tate hadn’t been holding anything, because it would have slipped from her hands. She felt as if she’d been run over by a tank. At this rate, not even her grabbing the counter with teeth and nails was going to prevent her ass from having a close encounter with the floor.

“We haven’t seen each other in several months,” James hurried to explain, his alarmed gaze intent on Tate. “Faith, this is Tate, my girlfriend. We are together.”

“Together?” She looked astonished, turned her gaze to Tate in poorly masked disdain, and then laughed as if James had told the funniest of jokes. “James, James, you almost had me fooled.” She slapped at his chest. James gave her a hard stare, and her smile faltered. “Are you serious?” Faith’s mouth gaped, seeming genuinely confused. “But you don’t have ‘girlfriends.’”

“I do now.”

She closed her mouth and narrowed her gaze on Tate like she was reassessing the situation. She must have come to the conclusion that she was no threat. “Really? Oops, sorry for that,” she said while ironing James’s pec. He took her hand and moved it away.

Faith plastered a seductive smile on her silicone-enhanced lips and turned her back on Tate. “Oh well, never mind, how have you been; how’s everything?” She continued her chattering and her aggressive flirting, throwing herself at him like there was no tomorrow.

James answered her questions curtly, keeping his distance every time Faith moved to touch him, looking annoyed by her advances. That didn’t derail her. Tits on a Stick was set on a course of action and wasn’t ready to give up yet.

This was so great, the perfect ending to Tate’s wonderful day. She did her best to ignore the scene, but she was so pissed that when the people from one of the tables left she could barely hold a smile for them. She was seeing red. What was she, a wallflower? She didn’t need to see that. What she needed was a smoke, badly. Borrowing one from Tina, she marched to the front door. The last thing she wanted was to be in the same closed space with Tits on a Stick here, or she might end up throwing the rest of the pies at her.

* * *

James’s first instinct was to go after Tate, but he forced himself to stay still. He should give her a couple of minutes to calm down. He knew she was pissed; he’d seen her muttering to herself while Faith had been talking to him. Although talking might not be the right word; fondling would be more accurate. Even after he’d told her he couldn’t see her anymore, she’d kept flirting. The aggressiveness that he’d liked so much about her now made his skin crawl. Faith was gorgeous, no two ways about it, but she did nothing for him; her beauty bounced off him. He didn’t want anyone but Tate touching him. And if her reaction was anything to go by, she agreed with that. And damn if that didn’t fill him with satisfaction. But he was a wise man, so on his way out, he tried to stifle his emerging smile.

James found her outside, a few feet from the front door, no jacket, in the cold, smoking of all things. He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. “What are you doing?”

She looked at him belligerently. “Smoking of course.”

“You don’t smoke, princess.”

“I do sometimes,” she said. “You don’t know me as well as you think you do.”