Wicked (5 page)

a different kind of comfort.

After almost thirty minutes of fighting traffic, Karl stopped at the entrance to

his friend's office and leaned against the door-jamb. The office wasn't huge,

but it was big enough and nice enough to impress with a sofa along one wall,

the other wall almost all window so anyone in the office could watch the

goings on in the nightclub below, and a monster wooden desk.

Behind that monster wooden desk sat Valentine Ward, with a lap full of soft

female.

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Instead of speaking up and interrupting, Karl watched as his friend ran his

hands under the plump blonde's shirt and pulled her closer. Samair Jones

moaned and Karl's dick jumped. The sounds a woman made when being

touched just right always went straight to his groin.

"Do you guys ever stop?" he asked before he got too turned on.

Val pulled back and peeked around his girlfriend's shoulder. "Not often, but if

you're going to stick around I guess we can take a break."

"What? You wouldn't invite me to join in?"

"You passed on that once, and one chance is all you'll ever get."

"Be nice." Samair smacked Val's shoulder and climbed off his lap to stand by his side. "Hey, Karl, how are you doing?"

Warmth filled his chest as he noted how Samair kept her hand on Val's

shoulder, as if she couldn't stand to be so near him and not touch.

A few months earlier Val had been set on fulfilling all of Samair's sexual

fantasies, including a threesome with two men. The two men had shared

women in the past, but Karl, recognizing that his friend was falling in love,

had turned down the invitation to be the second when it came to Samair.

Friendships like theirs could withstand a lot, but Karl hadn't been ready to

risk it.

"I'm doing pretty good." He walked into the office and dropped onto the sofa along the far wall.

The lights in the nightclub came on, illuminating the window on the other

wall, and Credence Clearwater drifted over the speakers. "Kelsey's here,"

Karl said in explanation.

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Sasha White

Kelsey was the head bartender at Risqué. She'd shown up for her shift just

as Karl had pulled out his phone to dial Val to let him in.

"Oh! I need to talk to her before the club opens," Samair said. She leaned

down and gave Val a slow lazy kiss before heading for the door. "Maybe I'll

see you later, Karl?"

"Maybe." He nodded.

Both men watched her leave, and Karl stretched his legs out in front of him,

trying to get comfortable. "So, how's married life?"

"We're not married," Val replied.

"May as well be."

Karl felt his friend's gaze on him and he stood. He walked to the window and

looked down on the empty club. The lights were on, the music was on, but

the club was empty. Sometimes he felt like that.

Giving his head a shake he kept his back to Val. "Not that marriage would be

a bad thing for you two. I think you've caught yourself a good woman,

buddy."

"There are a few of them out there, y'know."

Normally he would just shrug off Val's comment. They both knew he wasn't a

true believer when it came to love and happy endings.

There had been a time when he was. He'd been a hell-raiser from the time he

could walk, but his parents had always loved him, believed in him, and each

other. Even when aunts and uncles, teachers and counselors, had all told

them he was going to end up in jail or dead by the time he was twenty.

He'd been serving a year in juvenile detention for stealing a car when they'd

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decided to go on a second honeymoon—and their plane had crashed and

burned minutes after taking off.

Realizing how much he'd taken for granted, when he turned eighteen and

was released, to honor his parents and the faith they'd always had, he'd

straightened up and worked to make something of his life. But somehow,

after that, no matter how hard he looked, he couldn't see love anywhere.

What he had seen were too many marriages turn very ugly very quickly. But

this time, he didn't want to shrug off the comment, or his thoughts.

He turned from the window and met Val's gaze. "Did you know when you met

Samair that she was a good one? I mean, I remember you wanted her the

minute she walked in the club that first night, but it was just lust, right?"

They'd been friends a long time, but the men rarely talked feelings. They

didn't need to.

But now, he needed to.

Something in him had shifted, and he was feeling like he'd been caught

flat-footed.

"It was more than lust." Val steepled his fingers under his chin and stared at Karl. "It was curiosity, attraction, desire. I was…
drawn
to her."

"You fucked her on the desk that night because you were curious?"

"No. I did that because she asked me to, and by the time I was zipping my

pants, I was hooked. I just hadn't known it then."

That
was a scary thought. "She's totally different from Vera."

Vera was Val's ex-wife, and a true-blue rich snotty bitch. Completely

mercenary in going after what she wanted, like most women Karl knew.

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"You're right, Samair's nothing like Vera was."

"But she's a lot like the women you used to date before Vera?"

"Karl, what's going on?" Val stood and walked over to him. "One of your subs giving you a hard time?"

"Nah, it's nothing." He gave his head a shake. "Just feeling a little restless, wondering if a change might be a good thing."

"Change can be good." Val took the hint and shifted the subject. "Samair and I like to change things up all the time."

Karl laughed, ignoring the slight twinge of jealousy he felt at his friend's

happiness. Val had fought for his happiness, and he deserved it. "Yeah?

Does that mean you're going to be my guests at The Dungeon again

sometime soon? And maybe play a little this time?"

"I don't think so. We like to keep our games private."

"Yeah, right! Don't try to tell me you two haven't had gone at it in every room

of this club."

"Okay, I won't try to tell you that." He clapped a hand on Karl's shoulder.

"Let's go shoot some pool before the bar opens. I need to take some of your

money."

"Good luck with that, my friend," he laughed as they left the room, feeling good.

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7

T
hree days and he didn't call.

Lara didn't know why she was surprised. Really, he was a man. She'd

sucked his cock, he'd gotten off, and she'd probably never see him again.

There were times when that wouldn't bother her, times when the thrill of just

doing what she wanted, where and when she wanted, was enough to make

her feel perfectly alive. But this wasn't one of those times.

She'd seen the promise of more in Karl's eyes, even though he'd never

voiced it, and she'd wanted it.

"Hi, Lara, how are you today?"

Closing the door on any thoughts of Karl, Lara smiled at the guy behind the

auto shop counter. "Hey, sexy," she blew a kiss at him. "The only thing that would make my world any better would be a date with you."

"You'd never be able to keep up with me, little girl." The white-haired

mechanic said with a laugh and reached out for the case of oil filters she

carried.

"That's true, you did wear out—what? Three wives in twenty years?"

"Yes, ma'am." His bony chest puffed up with pride and Lara grinned. "And they're all going to be waiting for me on the other side, so I need to save my

strength."

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Lara reached for the invoice he'd signed and tore off his copy. "Then I guess

it's best we just remain friends isn't it, Jack?"

Before Jack could answer, his grandson came into the room from the

garage, wiping his hands on a dirty rag. "When are you gonna stop teasing

the old man and go out with me, Lara?"

"Sorry, Ben, I don't date men I have to work with."

"You don't work with me, you deliver auto parts to our shop. There's no

conflict there."

"Yeah, but I'd still have to see you the next day, or the day after that…and

that's not always a good thing." She tucked the invoice into her leather binder

and started for the door with a wave. "Have a good day, gentlemen."

The sun was shining brightly and she tugged the bill of her cap down over

her eyes. It was a beautiful March afternoon, and she was almost done

working for the day. She climbed into the cab of the little Toyota truck with

JAY'S AUTO SUPPLIES stenciled along both sides before double-checking

the last invoice in her binder.

One more delivery and then she could clock out for the day. Yee haw!

Looking both ways she pulled onto Broadway and headed toward Granville

Street. It was almost three o'clock and traffic was starting to get a little nuts,

but it didn't bother her. Her patience on the road was what made her so good

at her job as an auto parts delivery person. That's not to say she didn't get

frustrated at times, but she always remembered she was in a company truck,

and managed to keep from flipping anyone off.

Lara liked her job; she got to meet tons of people, but didn't have to worry

about any of them getting to nosy or too close. It also gave her freedom to

roam the city, and because she'd been at it for a little more than three years,

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Sasha White

when most drivers were students that didn't last, a certain amount of

security.

Security was important to Lara. More important than the not-so-great

paycheck she got every two weeks.

Intellectually she knew she craved security for the same reason she was

adamant about maintaining her independence and not getting too close to

people.

Her childhood had sucked.

Her mother had taken off when she was a toddler, and her alcoholic father

had gone from job to job,
when
he sobered up enough to work. She'd learned

early on how to take care of herself and by the time she was ten she was

hustling pool to buy groceries.

She still hustled pool at least once a week to make extra money on the side,

often making two or three times as much at the tables as she did on her

paychecks. Her twenty-eighth birthday was coming up soon, and she was

determined to own her own home by the time she hit thirty. And she wasn't

going to do it by delivering auto parts alone.

She finally made it over the bridge and pulled into the parking lot for her final

drop off. As she strode into the garage, the cell phone on her hip started to

vibrate and ring. Not recognizing the number on caller ID, she ignored the

phone, smiled at the plump counter girl and handed over the spark plugs.

Signed invoice in hand, she pulled the still-ringing phone off her hip as she

headed back to the truck. "Hello?"

"You're such a bad girl!" a frantic voice hissed.

"Graham?"

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When his voice came back it was pleasant and professional. "Hi, Lara. Yes,

it's Graham here. I have a question for you."

"What's going on? You sound weird." She shut the door of the truck behind

her and just sat in the driver's seat for a minute.

"Mr. Dawson would like your phone number and I told him I couldn't give it to

him without your permission."

Lara heard a rumbling growl in the background and laughed. She could just

imagine Karl's impatience with Graham's fussiness.

"So?" Graham prodded. "Would you prefer I tell Mr. Dawson your number, or tell him you're not interested?"

"Put him on the phone, Graham."

There were some muffled words and then Karl's smooth voice was echoing

in her ear. "You're a hard woman to get ahold of."

Satisfaction settled heavy in her belly. "I'm a woman who likes things…hard."

"And I'm glad for that." A low chuckle rumbled through the phone lines. "In fact, I'd like to explore that fondness of yours a bit more. Will you have dinner

with me tonight?"

"Drinks." Dinner had been nice, but she didn't want him thinking they were

dating. This was all about satisfying animal urges.

A slight pause then, "You have somewhere specific in mind?"

Thinking quick she named a pub downtown, not far from where she lived.

They decided on a time and she hung up with a grin, anticipation already

making her sex warm.

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Sasha White

* * *

K
arl ignored the glare Graham was shooting him and put the phone

back in the cradle on his assistant's desk. "She's a big girl, Graham. She

knows what she's getting into," he said before walking back to his office.
At
least she will after tonight.

He couldn't believe he'd had to actually
order
Graham to call Lara while he

was standing there! The man had refused to give him her number when he'd

asked, or her email address. It would be touching if it weren't slightly

insulting.

On the other hand, knowing that Lara'd kept their encounters to herself

pleased him. He liked his private life to be private, and any concerns he'd

had about dating a friend of his employee were now gone.

Dating.

It had been a long time since he'd dated someone outside the lifestyle. Hell,