Authors: Kasey Moone
Chad whistled from the doorway.
Jeremy looked up. “You still here?”
“So did you get a chance to speak to her afterward?” Leave it to Chad to want to know all the details.
Jeremy took a long swallow of his coffee. It was as black and sugarless as his mood. The way he liked it. “No.”
“You didn’t go after her?”
“She disappeared into the stockroom. The place was on lock down.”
Chad grinned. “You didn’t break down the door?”
“Fuck off.”
“You didn’t recognize her from around the office?”
“Cut the interrogation.”
“What does she look like?” continued Chad. “Maybe I know her.”
Jeremy’s brain skidded to a halt. A slow smile curved his lips. He thought about Ms. Perrin. Mira. Why didn’t he already know her?
Her caramel skin, plump lips, and killer rack should’ve stayed in his mind long before now. She was the kind of woman that had always appealed to him, short, curvy, and feminine. A bit stubborn, for sure, but he liked ladies who stood their ground. They were a fun challenge.
An overwhelming sense of possession coursed through him at the thought of her. He glared at Chad.
“She wears braids.”
“That’s all?”
“What do you want? A play-by-play?”
“Yeah, something like,” snorted his friend. “Give me some details.”
Jeremy growled, remembering ogling Mira’s plump ass as she’d stormed away from him. The temptation to take her then and there amid aisles of mops and brooms had nearly been too great. He laughed nervously. What was up with him?
“She’s cute, okay.” At the look of interest in Chad’s expression, he switched tactics and lied. “She wears ugly glasses though. They make her look like a nerd.”
“I like nerds,” his friend offered. “Nerds can be fun.”
Jeremy hurled a paperclip at the man who was a pussy connoisseur. “Don’t you have artists to book? I’m not paying you big bucks to slack around the office.”
“You’re not paying me big bucks, period.”
“Chad.”
“I’ll let this go for now,” replied his friend, shaking with laugher. “But I want all the details later, bud.”
Jeremy searched for something heavier to throw at his friend, but the other man ducked from the room just in time, laughing all the way up the hallway. The prick.
He returned his attention to the employee files. A minute later he found what he needed. Mira Octavia Perrin. Twenty-six. A few years younger than himself. Works in the Records Department. Bachelors in English. Tapping his fingers against the folders, he continued reading. Originally applied for a position to work with Promotions but was denied due to a lack of available positions. Settled for a file clerk position. Been here for one year.
Jeremy frowned. Why had she settled for a simple file clerk position when she was obviously over-qualified? Why get caught up in the humdrum of paper filing? Why deal with Dollar Place pricks? It didn’t make sense.
He stood up, intrigued by his mystery woman. Now that he knew where to find her, he better get moving. He just hoped that once he did find her, she’d agree to become his personal assistant. Something told him not to press his luck.
****
Mira turned up the music on her MP player as she emptied another cabinet of records. She’d been organizing the file room all morning. It was a hell of a job and it required her full attention. Most of the records were as old as her great grandma, and the station wanted them organized by their publication date, not alphabetically by album.
She sat on the floor, bobbing her head to the music, and soaked up the sunshine that streamed from a nearby window. Sometimes it felt good to be alone. To really have time to think. The records room sat in the basement of the large radio station, a place people rarely ventured. It was her private oasis. She shrugged. She was easy. It didn’t take much to make her boat float.
Besides, she needed time alone to relax. She was all nerves. When she’d arrived at the station that morning, she half expected to find Mr. Rain waiting for her in the parking lot or mailroom, wanting to apologize for getting her fired. But that was just a fool’s dream. He hadn’t been there. Why would he be?
She sighed, her spirit low, as she searched through another stack of records. She’d have to find a part-time job soon. If she didn’t earn some extra cash by the end of the month, Uncle Leo wouldn’t be able to buy his diabetes medicine. And she couldn’t have that. He needed that prescription. She reached for a glossy record with Donna Summer in bold white letters on the cover.
I will survive.
That’s right Donna. You go girl!
Smiling a little, Mira rocked her head to the familiar lyrics. If Donna could survive, she could, too, dammit! No matter how bad things got, she had her health. And that was something to celebrate. Hell, yeah! She closed her eyes and pretended she was a disco-star. Worry-free. Sporting a black pants suit and platinum boots. She’d put John Travolta to shame.
And Jeremy was there. In her daydream. Looking gorgeous in a brilliant white two piece suit that made him seem scruffy, yet classy.
“Dance with me, Mira.”
They grooved around the dance floor in dizzying circles, twirling around and around, too lost in each other’s arms to let troubles weigh them down. She leaned against him like the women did in those old movies—except her movie had a little more heat.
Her hips pressed against him in total abandon. Sparks of pleasure ran up and down her spine at the intimate contact. God, he felt so good.
Even though he was fully dressed, she could feel every ridge and ripple of his cock. It was deliciously thick, lurching before her, grinding over her sex, preparing her for a good fuck. And his hands were snaking beneath her shirt to reach her bare skin. Cupping the fullness of her breasts as he whispered the things he planned to do to her in her ear.
She was just about to arch her back to give him better access when she suddenly felt as though she was being watched in the real world. Her arms fell to her sides. Her daydream floated away. Biting down on her lower lip, Mira opened her eyes. Then turned around.
Of all the people to witness her impromptu sex dance, it had to be him. Jeremy Rain. The hunk of hunks. He sat on a box in the entranceway, staring at her with smoldering eyes.
Silence filled the room.
Mira swallowed roughly. How did he find her? Nobody visited the basement of Hell. Damn, damn, damn. Did he enjoy sneaking up on her?
A green T-shirt clung to his bulging biceps. Dark denim encased his long legs. He was as fine in the morning light as he was in the night. Still raw from the daydream, she ordered her body to behave.
She suddenly wondered how he’d look in the buff. Did he sport chest hair or was he as clean and lean as a Greek god? Her lips pinched together in a frown. Had it come to this? Had she become so desperate for dick that she was undressing her boss with her eyes? Good grief! She tilted her chin, determined to regain her composure. So what if he’d caught her in the middle of a sex dream? He would not unnerve her again. He did not have the upper hand.
She clicked off her MP player. “Can I help you, sir?”
For a few seconds he didn’t respond, just stared at her in that intense way of his. Then a brilliant smile lit his face, revealing a row of pearly white teeth. “Call me Jeremy.”
She returned her attention to the records. “Was there something you wanted, Jeremy? Coffee? Water? Someone’s livelihood?”
He sighed heavily behind her, but she didn’t turn back. What was he thinking? That she had no right to be angry over last night. Yeah right! She whirled around and stuck a finger in his direction. “You had no right, pal. No right.”
“I know,” he said softly. “I was way out of line.”
“You got that right!”
“I’m sorry.”
Mira growled. He was just too gorgeous to stay mad at. There was no use torturing the poor fella. Besides, she couldn’t afford losing another job and unlike most, he had apologized. “It’s okay.”
“That’s it?”
“What?”
“You’ll forgive and forget like that?”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m trying to be agreeable.”
“You’re too forgiving.”
“So what?”
He tossed up his hands, a look of puzzlement transforming his features. “I’ve never met someone so forgiving.”
“You need to get out more.”
“Well, thank you for accepting my apology, then.”
“You’re welcome.” She couldn’t help but give him her two-cents. “See, even though you’re a bit of a grouch when you’re upset, you meant well.”
He held her gaze for a few seconds and grinned. “So you have me pegged now?”
“Sure do. Besides, Roger’s fall made up for the whole ordeal. Did you see his face?”
She pretended the scattered records were the plastic containers that had cushioned Roger’s bottom. “Mira, help me please! My ass is stuck in this massive food bowl!” A round of giggles seized her as she flapped her arms like a bird. “Mira, this bowl is cutting off my ass circulation.”
She was giggling so hard that she didn’t see Jeremy’s approach. But suddenly she was turning around to discover she was face to face with his groin. She stopped giggling. And swallowed. If the large bulge behind his zipper was any indication, he was happy to see her. Oh shit. The man was huge. Get it together, girl. Now was not the time to act like a complete goofball.
Rising on wobbly feet, she tilted her head back to meet his gaze.
“Yeah, that was pretty hilarious, but the prick deserved it.” Though his face was emotionless, humor danced in his eyes.
She made a show out of rearranging her black pant suit, then studied him closely, suddenly wanting to prove to him that she was a capable file clerk. Not a giggling twit. “Look, thanks for the apology but I have to get back to work. I’m on the clock.”
“Well, I have a plan, you see.”
“A plan?” What was the man up to now?
“Do you enjoy parroting me?”
“I don’t parrot you.”
“You did last night. And you’re doing it right now.”
“Fine,” she snapped, rolling her eyes. “Speak of this plan, O-wise-one.”
He flashed her a wicked grin. “I need a personal assistant to attend a radio conference with me next week. Maybe you’ve heard of it: The Rock n’ Rolla Festival in Daytona, Florida? Usually I skip it, but this year I want to make an appearance. My regular assistant is on maternity leave. Up for the gig?”
Her brain turned to mush at the thought of being near him for a whole week. Absently, she shuffled a row of boxes. “I have to work next week.”
“You’d have the week off, plus bonus pay. Will five thousand do?”
Good Lord, she thought, Uncle Leo would be set for the rest of the year with that amount of dough. Ten rounds of meds paid off like that! Reigning in her excitement, she played it cool. “That’s a bit much, don’t you think?”
He shrugged. “Consider it severance pay for your last job.”
“Trying to ease your conscience by paying me off, Mr. Rain?”
A sliver of anger flashed in his beautiful eyes. “I’m trying to be agreeable, Ms. Perrin.”
She couldn’t help but laugh. He was fine as hell when he was mad.
“The conference can be demanding. I need someone efficient by my side. Someone who can help me handle the stress. You’ll earn the money. Believe me.”
She turned her back to him and concentrated on rearranging a few shelves, weighing her options. There had to be another way to earn some extra cash. A way that didn’t involve frolicking with Jeremy Rain for an entire week like a sex-deprived lunatic. Desperately, she held on to her resolve. “You don’t even know me.”
“I’ve looked through your files. You’re educated and capable. You’ll do.”
Her nerves tensed. He’d looked through her files? What was she supposed to make of that? It was all very detective-ish.
Her confusion grew stronger and stronger by the minute. What choice did she really have though? Five thousand dollars was some serious cash and Uncle Leo needed her. Now was not the time for the weak of heart.