Authors: A.M. Hargrove
“Because I’ve never known where any of my bosses lived.”
He stares at me, rubbing his chin. “You’re not jealous of her, are you?”
“No, of course not.”
I’m quick to answer but the truth is I’m jealous as hell.
“
There’s nothing between us.”
To hell with
this. “Have you slept with her?”
The expression on his face is priceless. His usual half-closed lids have popped open. In fact, if the situation were different, I would laugh because his eyes are nearly cartoon-like in their appearance. “Absolutely not. I would never sleep with an employee. I thought I made it clear to you that I don’t get involved with my clients.”
“True,” I say, “but she’s not your client.”
“When I made that statement, I meant that to include my employees as well.
That would be considered gross moral turpitude in my estimation.”
I take a good hard look at him and determine he’s telling the truth. “She wants to
sleep with you. In a very bad way. We probably should’ve had this discussion before we slept together, but if you and I continue to have sex, I would ask that, um …” and I run out of steam. I feel strange making demands on him because I have no right, but I have to say this. “This is weird since we don’t really know each other, and I know I have no right to make this demand, but I don’t sleep around, Drex. And I guess what I’m saying is I would prefer if you didn’t either.”
He
gives me that raw, sexy look that causes goosebumps to erupt all over my skin. He stomps to the door and the lock clicks into place, then stalks back, his gaze so intense, it penetrates my skin. Every nerve ending comes to life. How he does it, I have no idea, but it’s like his eyes weave a spell on me. They melt away everything except for the burgeoning heat that blossoms inside me. I want this man. I want his hands to touch me all over. Now.
When he’s standing in front of me, he reaches down and fists my shirt, hauling me to my feet. Then his other arm wraps around me and presses my hips into
his as his mouth possesses mine. But before he kisses me, he says, “There’ll be no other partners for me as long as you do the same. But if you don’t, there
will
be hell to pay. I. Don’t. Share.” He kisses me once. Hard. Controlling. And dominant. And then says, “Now, let’s eat before our dinner gets cold.”
He releases me and I drop, none too gently, back onto the couch, breathless.
He certainly plays this game well. And he just taught me something: Drex Wolfe likes to be in control, not only in his business life, but where his women are concerned too. Damn is he ever territorial and he’s just made that abundantly clear. The corners of my mouth lift as I discover that I quite like that quality in him. But how the hell does he expect me to eat after that?
I
observe him as he pulls the food out. He’s unwrapping everything, apparently unaffected by what just transpired. I, on the other hand, can’t catch my breath. As he’s working to get our dinner set up, he hands me a napkin and fork, but his hand lingers on mine, sending currents of heat up my arm and into my belly. Shit, how does he do that?
“Eat, Gemini. You haven’t had anything all day. And with what I have in mind for you, you’ll need some nourishment.”
How does he expect me to eat after he says that? “Are you always this bossy?”
H
e pierces me with one of his looks. “Oh, Gemini, I think you have it all wrong. You’re the one being bossy.”
“Me?”
“Yes, you. Did you not just give me orders that I couldn’t sleep with anyone but you? In fact, if I recall correctly, you all but insisted.”
“Yeah, well, it’s something any self-respecting woman would say.”
“Did you hear me argue with you?” He runs his finger across my cheek. That’s it. Now it’s my turn.
My hand folds around his and I grasp his shirt with the other one and pull him to me. Right as my mouth is about to touch his, I say, “No, you didn’t argue. Now quit teasing me.” And I kiss him. But it’s not a short one. It’s long, delicious, wet
, passionate. He ravages my mouth and I revel in it.
When we’re breathless, he says, “You don’t care about your dinner?”
“Do I look like I care?”
“It’ll be cold.”
“Ever hear of a microwave?”
“Sit up.”
“I can’t. You’re lying on me.”
He leans back and pulls me into a seated position. My shirt disappears in a whoosh and my bra follows. When he leans his head toward me, I stop him with my hand on his chest. “Oh no
, you don’t. I’m not sitting here like this while you get to play and I have to look at you in that damn shirt.”
He laughs at me. “
And you say I’m bossy.”
“
It’s only fair.”
“Point taken.”
He strips off his shirt and I relish how his muscles ripple with his movements. My arms stretch out to touch them. He’s everything a man should be … hard yet smooth, solid and firm, yet velvety. My body fires everywhere and I can’t sit still. He pushes me back down on the couch. “Lift up,” he says, tapping my hips. I do as he asks and he slides my sweats off. I’m suddenly conscious of the fact I haven’t showered since last night, so I freeze.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I say as I sit up.
“
Bullshit, Gemini. You’re the worst liar. One minute you’re panting after me and the next, you’re like ice. What the hell?”
This is really
uncomfortable. My face heats because of it, so I raise my hands to cover it.
“Tell me.” He’s demanding at first, but then he must see how awkward I feel, so he moves between my now very naked legs. Then his arms are around me and his mouth is next to my ear. “What is it, Onyx? You can tell me.”
“I haven’t had a shower since last night. I don’t want you to do that.”
“Do what?”
“Go down on me.”
“Ah, I see. Well, then, come on.”
He pulls me to my feet and I follow, naked, into the bathroom. Why didn’t I realize there’d be a shower in here? He turns on the water and when the temperature is just right, we get in and he gives me a very thorough scrubbing. Everywhere. I’m slick with shower gel and suds, but it feels so good, I tell him never to stop as his fingers massage me until I’m calling out to him over and over.
“Drex. I need you.”
“No can do, Onyx. No condoms in here.”
Acute disappointment rushes through me. It’s nearly painful. I slide my body down his with the intention of returning the favor he just bestowed on me, but his voice stops me.
“No, not now. As much as the thought of your luscious, wet mouth delights me, I want us to eat and go home so I can bury myself in you. I want to feel all of you on me, babe. You good with that?”
“Yeah, I’m good,” I say as I rub my cheek against him. Then I let him pull me to my feet.
When he shampoos my hair, I know I’ve died and gone to heaven for the second time.
“Jeez, babe, you sound like you’re coming again,” he laughs.
“Oh God, this feels divine. Why doesn’t it ever feel this good when you wash your own hair?”
“I’ve never thought about it.”
When we’re finally finished, he dries me off and wraps my hair in a towel. “Why, thank you. You do a fine job of this. Maybe you should think of changing professions.” I wink at him.
He smacks me on the butt as we move into the other room.
“I’m sorry you don’t have any other clothes here.”
“That’s okay. I’m wondering how I’m going to get a brush through my hair since
there wasn’t any conditioner.”
“Here, let me.” He takes the brush and starts to work through the tangles. And there are tons of them. “Tell me if I hurt you.”
“Just do it because I know there is no other way.”
When he’s finally done, he says, “How about some dinner?”
We laugh as he carries the pasta containers to the microwave. When the food is again warm, we polish off our plates in record time.
“I’m still hungry. We’ll stop for round two on the way home.”
“Round two?”
“Yeah. That was just the appetizer.”
I laugh. “I thought the shower was the appetizer.”
His head turns
. “Nope. That was the sex-etizer. We need nourishment if we’re going to have any kind of strenuous bedroom activities. By the way, how’s your head?”
When I stop to think about it, I marvel at the fact that it doesn’t hurt. “Pretty good, I’d say.
I took a pill when we got back here, remember?”
He gives me a cheeky grin. “
True, but I plan on keeping things this way, Sheridan.”
“You do, Wolfe?”
“You bet I do.” He extends his hand. “Let’s get out of here.”
Damn if he
isn’t serious. He hits a drive-through on the way home and picks up burgers and fries. Even though I protest and say I can’t eat a bite, he insists. It only takes us a few minutes to get from the burger joint to his place. He lives in LoDo, or the Lower Downtown area. LoDo is the oldest and most historic section of Denver. It’s a mixed-use neighborhood with trendy shops, night clubs and restaurants, but it’s also the home of museums, art galleries, and Coor’s Field.
“I’ve always loved this area,” I say.
“It’s very convenient for me to get to and from the office.”
We pull up to a parking lot outside an old warehouse. He parks next to another black SUV. “What’s with all the black SUVs?”
“Company cars. I keep several all over the place.”
“But why that particular car?”
“It can carry a lot of men and equipment if the need arises.”
“So, is this your place?”
“Yeah, come on in.”
We enter through a huge wooden door with a
high-tech security system. Once his code is entered, he waits and a voice tells him it’s okay to unlock the door. Inside, we’re in a foyer that opens all the way to the ceiling. It’s bare with wooden beams and ductwork showing, giving it a dramatic yet warm effect. Off the hallway to the left appears to be an office. He leads me right and into a large living area that extends into a vast kitchen.
“This place is
impressive.” It’s open to the ceiling again, huge windows affording a view of the cityscape. The walls are old brick and the same wooden beams run across the ceiling. The furniture is comfy and lived-in, not the sleek design of his office, but he still has the state-of-the-art electronics as well. There’s a huge fireplace and along one wall hangs probably the largest flat screen TV available. I’m guessing that somewhere hidden amongst all this is an unrivaled sound system. One thing I notice is the absence of any personal touches, such as photos. It’s all done very nicely, but there is nothing here that speaks of Drex’s love for anything in particular.
“Thanks. I’ve been here a couple years now and I really love it.”
“Cook much?” I’m checking out his professionally designed kitchen.
“Never. I use the microwave, but that’s about it.
The elegant kitchen is the interior designer’s fault. She talked me into it. I would’ve been happy with a fridge, a warming plate, and a toaster.”
The rest of the place is divided into bedrooms.
A curved stairway in the back leads to the second floor—two bedrooms, two bathrooms. His bedroom and master bath, a huge space, sits on the main floor down the hall from his office.
“So, you enclosed the ceiling,” I say as I look up. No wooden beams or warehouse features in here, other than the brick exterior walls.
“Yeah, it’s way too noisy. Plus I added the bedrooms upstairs in that space.”
“Oh. I didn’t think of that.
This is really something. And that bathroom.”
“Again, that was the architect and interior designer. I would never have put
in something so elaborate. I’ve never used that tub.”
T
he jetted tub could hold four large people. “Never?” I find that hard to believe. I would think he would’ve wowed his female companions with its grandeur.
“Not ever.”
“Not even your …”
“My what?”
“You know.”
“No, I don’t.”
He’s toying with me.
“Your friends with benefits?”
“Nope, don’t have any.”
“Fuck buddies?”
He laughs. “Don’t have those, either.”
“Girlfriends?”
“I didn’t have one … until yesterday.”
“But, we’ve only just met.”
“Gemini, wasn’t it you who said that if we were to continue sleeping together, that I wasn’t allowed to sleep with anyone else?”
“Well
, yeah.”
“And didn’t I tell you that I don’t share? Ever?”
“Yeah.”
“So if we’re seeing and sleeping with each other exclusively, in my book, that pretty much constitutes us being
together … as in dating. Now, that doesn’t have to mean anything serious. It just means that we’re with each other and won’t fuck around. So you need to tell me how you want to do this because I’m a simple guy and right now, I’m getting mixed signals from you.”