Chapter 5
FIVE
Tristan
“You didn’t have to come,” I snarl at Vance for the third time as we enter my office building. I jab the button for the elevator, feeling ridiculous in the Santa costume I’m wearing because Linda wanted everyone to dress up.
“I promised I’d come,” he grumbles. He’s been driving me crazy with his incessant chatter about the fling he had last night and how he left before she woke up or he might have never left at all.
He keeps insisting it was the best night of his life, which is absolute bullshit.
I wasn’t there, so it can't possibly be true. Ignoring the little prickle of jealously slithering up my spine, I mash the button harder. I fucking hate this lift. It’s older than I am and as slow as a three-legged dog.
“I can’t just go back to see if she’s there tonight. I mean, it’s a slippery slope, right?”
He shifts anxiously on his feet, running a hand down his chest. The muscles flex beneath his olive skin, showing off his toned six-pack.
Vance matched me in height. I was broader in stature, whereas he was more athletically built.
We both liked to work out, lifting weights, but he was a fan of cardio, too.
I’ve never seen him so worked-up before, especially over a woman who’s an escort. It’s odd to witness him so captivated by someone who was just a brief encounter that he paid to have.
“You already know the answer to that.” I narrow my eyes at him in frustration again.
I can see his thoughts churning behind his brown eyes, those fuckers are the color of dark chocolate with thick lashes bordering them causing them to appear almost black in the muted light. “If I did go back, I’d want you to come with me,” he says, hope mingling with the authority in his voice.
For fuck’s sake, maybe I should meet this woman… I’m so bent out of shape over Poppy, it’s unhealthy. “Ask me later when I’m drunker.” I flick my wrist dismissively, thinking about Poppy’s call last night.
She was obviously drunk, rambling about someone being gay and her having her first orgasm with another person.
After she confessed, that she’d masturbated to thoughts of me while in the shower every night since meeting me, I’d fucked my fist until it was sore.
When I called her this morning, it was clear she had no memory of the call, and as much as I want to pry the details from her lips in person, I know I can’t.
She’s not only my employee but she’s also engaged to someone else.
My mood sours, hating that Vance made me be Santa while he gets to be Krampus.
Smashing the button on the elevator yet again I crack my neck impatiently.
I’m staying an hour at most, then I’m trashing this ridiculous suit and locking myself in our apartment until this stupid fucking holiday is over.
“I’m looking forward to meeting this assistant girl.
” Vance nudges my shoulder and winks. When I cut him with a death glare, he whips his hand out, grabbing my chin over the itchy Santa beard and digging his fingers into the flesh beneath.
“So broody. You need to fuck or be fucked.” He releases me roughly as the doors ping open.
My heart stammers in my chest when they reveal Poppy inside.
She looks up at me, and her mouth drops open, hungry eyes roaming over my bare chest. Vance insisted we forego shirts beneath our open jackets, and now I’m glad he did.
“Sir.” She bites her lip and dips her head in greeting, making my balls tighten and hunger awaken inside me.
“It’s Tristan tonight, Poppy.” Although I love her calling me sir.
Her cheeks pinken as I drag my gaze down her outfit.
She’s dressed as a Christmas present that I want to unwrap more than I dying man wants time.
Her skirt is a wrapped box, and there’s a large red ribbon tied around her back that’s fastened into a bow across her perky tits.
Leaving a toned flat stomach with pinched waist completely bare.
It feels slutty to my needy cock, but she’s actually well covered.
She giggles, shrugging when I don’t enter. “Sorry about the skirt. It takes up a lot of room.”
With Vance bitching for me to hurry up, I step inside.
When Vance moves around my body, he freezes, and I bite back a grin.
He’s teased me nonstop about me wanting to fuck Poppy, and now he gets to see why I want her so fucking bad.
Her sweet scent fills my nostrils. She’s a ripe apple, begging for teeth to take a bite of her.
When Vance pushes into my back, forcing me toward her, I grunt and throw him a dirty look over my shoulder.
“This is my best friend, Vance.” I nudge him in the ribs for rudely turning his back to her.
His lack of manners catches me off guard, especially in front of someone like Poppy.
I thought he’d be dripping his charm all over her, if for nothing else than to rile me up.
He’s offered to fuck her for me countless times so he can describe in vivid detail what she tastes like, the fact that she works for me meaning nothing to him.
“I love your outfit,” she says to him, her voice warm and genuine, accompanied by a bright smile.
However, her features are strained, like she’s trying to be happy but isn’t.
When I look closer, I notice that her eyes are red-rimmed, making my stomach tighten with concern.
Was this from her drinking? She was wasted on the phone call, or had she been crying?
Is she okay, or do I need to kill someone?
Scanning down her cheeks to her pouty mouth and then to her neck, my dick twitches when I spot the marks coloring the skin there.
I’d swear they were light friction marks from a collar or firm hand during rough fucking, if she wasn’t so innocent and her fiancé a waif of a man who would struggle to bruise a peach, let alone a woman.
“Thanks,” Vance replies through his mask.
The bottom half is a long beard, the upper a devil-type mask that covers his eyes, complete with massive horns.
His deep red jacket is open like mine, revealing his toned torso, peppered with purple bruises from the best fuck he’s ever had.
His slacks hang low on his hips, and I see Poppy drop her eyes briefly to his crotch before sucking in her bottom lip and looking away.
I place my fist to my mouth to stop from chuckling.
Vance, like me, is tall. He works out and has an aura that screams I’m a good fuck.
Women are constantly checking him out, and usually, he’s preening under their devotion until he has them on their knees, begging for him.
It makes me wonder if he’s not paying her attention because he knows how much I want her and can't take her.
The elevator jolts before rising, making my stomach dip. I shouldn’t have drank before leaving the house.
“Oh, these are for you.” She shoves a glass jar at my chest, her eyelashes fluttering before she shrugs her shoulders. “I kinda stole them.” She places a finger to her puckered lips, blowing out a soft, “Shhhh.”
“Fucking hell,” Vance hisses under his breath.
“You got me candy.” Grinning like a Cheshire cat, I clutch the jar.
“Stole you candy.” she corrects as I notice a fancy hotel sticker on the jar. “Did Linda manage to finish decorating the tree?” she asks, her voice slightly shaky.
Cradling the jar, I roll my eyes, “She did, much to her frustration.” I reply, a teasing smirk tilting my lips.
I wink down at Poppy, and her face lights up, blooming like a flower under the sun’s warm rays as she absorbs my attention.
It makes me want to get her drunk on compliments and devotion, watch her blossom to her full potential.
A sudden kick to my shoe draws my eyes from Poppy’s lips to Vance’s devil horns. “Ow,” I scowl over my shoulder at him.
Vance grunts and shifts awkwardly next to me, his body tense and his gaze fixed on the elevator doors as he pushes the button for the thirty-sixth floor.
“I don’t think we’re moving anymore.” He slams a palm against the control panel, as if he can will the elevator to move faster.
Suddenly, it lurches, shuddering violently, and Poppy lets out a high-pitched screech.
We come to an abrupt halt, and the fluorescent lights blink out, plunging us into darkness. “Oh my god, what’s happening?” she gasps, her voice quivering with panic.
“It’s okay,” I try to reassure her, my own heart racing.
I quickly pull my phone from my pocket, the screen’s blue glow illuminating our faces as I tap the flashlight feature.
I shine the light on the panel, desperately searching for the emergency button and pressing it to call for help.
A small, trembling hand curls around my arm, sending a jolt of protectiveness through me.
“I don’t like the dark,” she whispers, her breath coming in quick, shaky puffs. The urge to wrap her in my arms and comfort her is overwhelming. It’s a shame that she doesn’t like the dark— it’s where I feel most at home.
“Here.” Vance hands her his phone with the flashlight glowing.
“Thank you.” She releases me and steps back, roaming the light around the small space as a voice comes through the speaker.
“There’s a power outage. Please bear with us while we try to get you out of there as soon as possible.”
“It’s fucking hot as hell in here,” Vance voices what I’m thinking as I yank down the fake beard and grab the Santa hat off my head, shoving them in my pocket before running a hand through my hair.
“This is just my luck. I must have really pissed someone off up there,” Poppy whines, pointing a finger upward.
“Or someone down there,” Vance pipes up, eliciting a laugh from Poppy’s lips. My rigid muscles loosen at the infectious sound, storing it in my memory for later.
“We’ll be out of here soon,”
I try to sound hopeful, but clearly, Vance can’t fucking help himself when he says, “Or we’ll plummet to our deaths.”