The Stranger I Know (Dark Romance) (9 page)

"Right away," she says before disappearing back out into the hallway. I sigh and try to relax in my seat, but I can't.

The vibration is too intense, and it feels like it's only getting stronger. Why? I wish I could take it out, but he said he would know if I disobeyed. Maybe there's a tracker on it. Something that extravagant isn't beyond his means. He's certainly brought things up during our meetings that I never thought he'd know about. I've never felt stalked, but more of a curiosity. That curiosity is a real pain in the ass right now. I shiver as a cold chill climbs up my back and I thrust backwards into the chair to try and stem myself. I have to steel my mind, ignore it. It can't be dominating me like this, or I'll be locked in here all day. If I don't make process on a deal with GG, then I'll be more than fucked and wet.

I stand up, wobbling a little, and cross the room with deliberate footfalls. The heater definitely doesn't need to be on anymore. I'm already sweating.

I flick it off just as Gwen knocks with my coffee. I pull open the door and take the coffee she offers me. Black.

"Anything else? Ms. Stone?"

"That's all. Thanks." I close the door on her. I manage to reach my desk again and set the coffee down. It takes all my concentration to ignore it, but as the minutes drag on like hours, I only have so much willpower.

Maybe giving in will... make it manageable. Right now I'm fighting it and writhing and uncomfortable. I recline my chair and drag my fingers up my legs and push against my clit through my clothes. The vibrator pulsates through my skin and reaches out to shake my hand. It's like I'm full of static electricity, and I'm that close to electrocuting someone. I decide I should just electrocute myself.

I gasp as a discharge runs through me, warmth flushing my cheeks and making my breathing heavy. A climax rides through me, a hellish experience to have in my dark, empty, office. Another follows behind it, an aftershock. I wipe my forehead with my sleeve and lean forward, planting my hands on my desk. It's no good, it wasn't enough. If anything, giving in made it worse.

My hands flatten and knuckles whiten as another wave from the endless surf crashes against me. I'm just trying to keep my chair from sliding backward and falling out of the window.

How am I going to get anything done today?

Maybe I'm not supposed to. Maybe it's batteries will run dry before I do. God help me.

I clench my teeth to keep quiet as another orgasm forces hot blood through my veins. God, if my pants don't get soaked through, my arms might just from exertion.

It's like the Stranger is in here with me, invisible and powerful. He controls the speed, the intensity. He's physically inside me, teasing and tempting me in ways I can't describe.

Fuck.

I pick up my phone and the line opens to call Gwen again. She answers quickly, thankfully.

"Yes, Ms. Stone?"

I exhale and make sure my breath doesn't hit the receiver. "Set up a time to meet with James Pierce at one. I don't care where." I hang up the phone before she can answer.

I'm not so weak to not do my job if I'm uncomfortable. Not following up with him after he torn me down yesterday at the cafe would be a grave mistake.

Noon, that's coming up pretty quick. I have to figure out how to store all this energy without looking like a sweaty, disheveled mess when I meet my boss.

He's already mad at me, it'll be worse if I look like I'm going through menopause.

I can keep my jacket on, that'll help if I start sweating. My upper arms are already wet to my elbows from the sheer exertion of keeping myself calm. I cross my legs and squeeze my thighs. The vibrations grow deep and thicken in intensity even though the device has to fight harder to continue its work. For now, I'll try to finish my coffee. If I look wired, that'll make me look desperate. If I look like a mess, then I'll look like I've given up.

The only defense for me is pure offense. That's all life has taught me, and that's all James is going to learn. I have a half hour to compose myself.

***

I
wince and clench my mouth shut to keep myself from gasping. The vibrations are unceasing, and it is torture at this point. My body is tapped out of orgasms, so now I'm just forced to ride the wave of numbness that's overpowering it. That is the good news. The bad news is I might have built up... a scent now.

I pull open my drawers and look for anything that might help. My deodorant is stashed in the top drawer, so I fish it out and apply it. Lower down, there's some breath strips. If I keep my mouth full of them and make sure I talk right at Michael's face, he shouldn't notice. I hope seven strips is enough to get me through his meeting and my meeting with James later. I can't cancel on him after setting one up.

My inner thighs have grown numb and standing makes me lightheaded. I haven't chased my coffee with any water or food. Too distracted by my problem to think about anything else.

Michael will be in the conference room. He's a man of habit, and he'll probably be too occupied with his thoughts to even notice anything is wrong with me. Not that anything is. I'll have a small cough, and that's it.

I cross my office and open the door to head down the hall to the conference room. A slight jerk in my step each time a phantom whirr touches some flesh that isn't numb. I cough into my hand hard enough to make it sound authentic. I've never needed a reason to feel self conscious at work. Everyone else has always been below me. But now... with my body ragged?

I knock on the door to the conference room, unsure why. Michael waves me in and I shut the door behind me. It's just me and him, so I don't know why we can't just meet in one of our offices. It's better anyway, this room doesn't smell like sex.

"Sit, Marcy," Michael says as he gestures to the seat across from him. Good. Farther is better.

I sit down and cross my legs to help numb them again. I drag a stray hair that's escaped my bun and tuck it behind my ear, increasingly self aware of how haggard I must look.

He sighs. "I'll cut to the chase. We need to discuss rehiring Stacie. You don't have the authority to fire her, not without my consent."

"She undermined me. She has been going out of her way to get under my skin —,"

He holds up a hand. "Enough. I don't care what petty shit you women bicker about. I just want results. She was a good typist and copy writer, and that's all I care about. I'm not hiring someone else or training someone from downstairs. It's her or you."

"Are you serious?" I catch myself to stop a stammer. "You'd seriously fire me to keep her on as a 'typist'?" My blood is boiling, not that I wasn't already simmering from the vibrator.

"She doesn't talk back to me, and her results are tangible. For all I know you've done jack all with this James Pierce except jerk him off."

I shake my head, too enraged to stay quiet. I push my chair away and slam my hands on the table. He flinches.

"Bullshit. If anyone is fucking up this deal it's you," I seethe. "And I'm sure the only reason you want to bring Stacie back and get rid of me is I won't suck your cock for pay raises."

He clears his throat and shakes his head. "You better watch what you say —."

I slam my fist again on the table, cutting him off. "No, Michael, you listen for once. I'm tired of your shit. I'm one step below your pay grade. Let me do my job and I'll handle James Pierce. Hire Stacie back on, I don't give a shit about her anyway. You let me handle this deal, and I'll make sure it's settled properly. Just stop nagging me about it every day. I'm not your secretary, I'm not your wife, I'm barely your employee. And James' isn't some desk asshole, he's the CEO of their entire god damn company. So, what you can do for me, is shut the fuck up."

I draw a zipper in the air and he doesn't open his mouth again. His face is as red as raw tuna and I'm probably as flushed as he is. I sit back down and straighten out my jacket, before folding my legs back over each other. I stare at him. "Is that all?"

He nods with some hesitation. I stand up and my chair reels back and slams into the window with a loud crack. I turn to see that the chair's wheels had slammed into the wall below the window. I eye Michael to see if he's going to say anything, and when he doesn't, I leave the room.

Fucking insufferable. This is James' fault. If he would just fucking give it up already, I wouldn't have to deal with this shit. James is about to learn a harsh lesson is all I can think of as I head back to my office. It's good. The anger keeps my attention on something besides the tension in my lower belly. There's throbbing in my veins from my hot and angry blood.

"That was quick," Gwen manages to say as I shut the door on her voice.

I mouth her words and consider the ones I shot across the desk to Michael. He can't fire me. No one else here is equipped to handle James Pierce. If I can't do it, then this company was doomed from the start. Poorly received offer notwithstanding.

With my emotions and body running ragged, I'm sure my meeting with James will go just swell.

Michael is a much weaker man than James. You can tell that easily by how ill fitted his suits are, how unsure he is, the way his neck wobbles when he talks. The way his beady eyes scan a room or undress you as you walk by. He probably thinks you don't notice, but you do. Michael is the kind of man who is going to get what's coming to him one day.

James is the kind of man who might dish the karma out. He's the one with sharp eyes, sharp clothing, and a glance of fire in his eyes that'll keep your fire stoked all night long. He doesn't undress you against your consent, he undresses himself and ravishes you. He fucks you, not satisfied with the simple act of imagining a woman naked. I'm flushing with these thoughts, and angry that I'm even considering them. James Pierce is also an asshole. A man who hides behind the company his father built. A man who forces himself into my schedule like I'm not important enough to do it myself. A man who ignores my demands and pretends I'm not powerful.

I prepare for my meeting with James. Gwen reminds me that he chose a location since I didn't mention one. I'm fully prepared for her to tell me it's the cafe.

"It's some bar down on Ninth. I didn't even know bars were open this early."

I stare at her, my patience thin. "Gwen, it's two thirty. Some bars open at six am."

She gives me a surprised look, like knowing that means I'm some kind of drunk. I'm not. But I've known people who were. I've dated people who are.

Ninth is even farther than the cafe on Bannock. I struggle with the thought of just driving the extra two blocks. If I walk the whole way with this vibrator going off, I'll probably collapse by the time I reach the bar.

I decide to drive.

***

T
here's ample parking in front of the bar. Just because they're open in the mid afternoon doesn't mean they're slammed. I park my car and slip some change into the meter. Thirty minutes ought to be more than long enough to make my point.

With a folder clutched in my hand and my purse hanging on my shoulder, I open the door to the bar and flash a smile at the bartender. No bouncers this early. He knows me anyway. I don't need to prove anything.

I scan the room and find James sitting at one of the higher tables across from a television playing soccer. I can't tell if he's immersed or just bored.

Ugh. I fucking hate how calm he looks. While I prepare a folder full of information to persuade him to let the merger go through and how an acquisition isn't in his company's interests, he has a napkin with a glass of scotch on it.

I stand in front of him and block his view of the television. He tries to look around me before recognizing me. I drag the chair out and sit down, all while keeping his eyes locked on mine. He doesn't utter a word, just that simple flash of recognition is enough.

After I settle down and cross my legs, barely managing the maneuver with the table so low, I set my folder down in front of me.

He opens his mouth first. "You wanted to meet me this time. I should say this is you forcing yourself into my schedule. I have a lot of business partners and investors who need to talk to me about the acquisition." He's just as flippant and ugly as yesterday.

I fight a scowl and an orgasm at the same time. If he could read my internal thoughts, he'd be awfully confused and mixed. I know I am. Looking at him bring the scotch to his lips and take long drags, followed by a pulse of what used to be pleasure in my body, makes me confused and warm.

"Mr. Pierce," I begin, and open the folder. "You're not acquiring our company."

"I certainly —"

I bite back, "Let's settle that right now. You are not acquiring my company." There's fire in my eyes and voice, a fire that surprises me. I would have thought my energy would leave me at the worst time. Seeing him must've flared something inside me. Like a gust of air to an ember.

His face goes blank and he lowers his glass to the table. Did I get through to him?

He starts to laugh in my face. My frown deepens with every passing second. The other people in the bar look our way, but I'm not doing them any more than giving them a peripheral glance. James relaxes and his laugh dies down. He nods grimly. Like it was an accident.

"That is a joke, right? We have more than enough capital to buy anyone out that says otherwise. It feels like you're the only one fighting this. Your company won't last another five years and when that time comes..." he finishes his glass. "That'll be it for you."

"You have no idea what you're talking about." I shake my head as I wave a waitress over. She looks exhausted for someone working a mid-shift. "I need a drink, just get me what he has." She notes it and leaves.

I turn back to him just as his eyes wander back from the waitress to me. Was he checking her out? My lip twitches but I restrain anything further.

Why does that piss me off so much? "Don't I? I guess you didn't fire a certain Stacie so-and-so yesterday then? Is it supposed to be a secret?" He lowers his voice into a harsh whisper. "That's okay. I won't tell anyone."

The hairs on the back of my neck bristle. Anger or arousal, it doesn't matter anymore.