Chapter 9
“Fuck, where did I leave my keys?” Travis mutters, rifling through papers on the kitchen island and kicking an empty chair aside.
It has been a week since he got out of rehab, and though most days are better, he still has bad ones.
Which is understandable, to be honest. He had to leap straight back into life, and believe me, it didn’t stop for anyone.
I perch on the counter, hands in my lap, watching him blow off steam.
This is the only way I can help. He’ll snap out of it soon.
“Where are they, Mischief?” he mutters, eyes swinging to me.
“No clue.”
“Well, Jesus, you could help!” He rakes a hand through his hair.
I raise an eyebrow. “Listen, grumpy—doesn’t matter how rough you feel, you don’t speak to me like that or so help me God, I will throw down.”
He softens and mutters, “Not grumpy.”
“You’re totally grumpy.”
He steps toward me, tilts my chin up, then shifts me so he can stand between my thighs. I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him close, sliding my butt toward the edge of the counter until I press myself against him.
“Sorry, baby,” he breathes, “I don’t mean to be an asshat.”
I snort. “Asshat. That’s a new one. I’ll write it down.”
“Forgive me?”
“That depends.”
“On?”
“How good you make me feel before work.”
He grins, lips brushing mine. “You drive me crazy, but I’ve gotta go—I’m late.”
“You’re the boss.”
“Good point.” He slides his arms around me. “Come with me. I could use your help today.”
I grin. “With your work, or your cock?”
He growls, nipping my ear. “Both.”
“I’m on it.”
I push him away, hop off the counter, and dash upstairs to change.
I’ve been staying at his place most nights, checking on him, but I still stay with Chief, too.
I don’t want to rush too quickly into things.
When I’m ready, I find him out front, standing by his bike, strapping on his helmet. “You set?”
I smooth my jeans and tug at my sandals. “Let’s roll.”
We fly down the road, and laughter bubbles out of my throat. I have missed this.
Gosh, have I missed this.
At Phoenix Records, when we walk through the front door, Janice basically passes out. The expression she gives me is one of shock, horror, and pure frustration. Like I have, once again, come to destroy all her dreams.
“Hey Janice,” I beam.
Travis squeezes my hand. A silent warning.
“Oh, Violet, wow. It has been a long time,” she stammers.
“Janice, screen my calls today unless it’s urgent. I have business,” Travis says, flashing her a smile. “Thanks.”
“Your nine o’clock is here, Travis—ah, I mean, Mr. Phoenix.”
Oh boy.
What have I missed?
“Perfect. Conference room in five.”
She nods so fast she nearly drops her clipboard, and we step into the elevator.
“You fucked her again, didn’t you?” I whisper.
Travis’s eyes narrow. “No.”
“Is that a lie?”
“No, but...”
“But?”
“There was a night, not too long before the fire, where I got drunk and we made out. After I spent two hours...”
“Two hours what?” I say, crossing my arms.
“Two hours telling her all about what happened.”
I groan. “Oh. So, she hates me?”
“I didn’t blame it all on you, but you know...”
“Trav—”
“She won’t stop texting me, so I think I got what I deserve.”
I laugh. “You’re hopeless.”
“Tell me about it.”
On the top floor, everyone stares as he escorts me into his office. I can only imagine just how quickly the gossip will spread when I leave today.
He shuts the door with a click, flicks on the lights, and I take in the mountain of fan mail and files covering his desk.
“Well, fuck,” he mutters. “You’d think I’d been gone for years.”
“Need help?”
“Half of this is fan mail, half is bookkeeping. You up for sorting it?”
“Sure,” I say.
“I’ll pay you,” he adds.
I arch an eyebrow. “That’s weird.”
“Not really. I need a new PA. Janice has moved to reception and can’t do both much longer.”
I purse my lips. “Is that allowed?”
He leans in closer, flashing me a grin. “I’m the boss. I do what I want.”
“What if we fight?”
“You’ll have your own office—you can lock me out.”
I laugh. “Tempting...”
“Come on, Mischief. It’s good money, and I know you need it. If you want to stay, that is...”
I do want to stay.
I really do.
But I still haven’t made the formal announcement. The one where I quit my old job, go back and pack up my life, and come home. It’s huge.
“We’re in this together, yeah?”
I meet his gaze. “Yeah, we are. Okay, I’ll take it.”
His grin makes everything in that moment worth it. “You even get an office.”
“So I don’t get to work in here?” I tease, lightly.
“No way.”
“Oh, why?”
“Because I’ll be fucking you constantly and never getting anything done.”
My cheeks heat. “Well, okay then.”
He leans in and kisses me, but it quickly turns heated until my bottom is pressing against his desk and he’s grinding his cock against my jeans. Fuck.
“I haven’t even started yet,” I whimper.
“Fuck it,” he growls, hauling me up onto the desk.
He jerks down his jeans at the same time as I am shuffling out of mine.
“I want to spank that ass,” he rasps.
Then, without warning, he spins me around and bends me over the desk. His fingers run down my spine until he reaches my bottom.
“Do it,” I breathe.
He does, hard, and I cry out, hips jolting back.
The next time he does it, he is pushing his cock into me at the same time, hand landing on flesh, hot and firm.
I try not to scream as a mix of pleasure and pain rips through my body.
His growls of satisfaction send me over the edge, and my world feels as though it spins as the most incredible orgasm rips through me.
“Fuck,” he barks, and then his cock is pulsing inside me, deep, hot, hard.
We don’t even get a second to come down when there is a knock on the door.
“Excuse me, Mr. Phoenix?”
He pulls out, jerking his jeans up and barking, “What?”
“The conference room is ready now.”
“Coming.”
We straighten up, and he smooths my hair down with his hands before leading me out. The red-faced woman on the other side of the door gives me a look that tells me she heard every second of that. I bite my lip, shrinking into Travis a little.
“Haylee,” he says, pausing. “This is Violet. She is my new PA. Can you show her to Janice’s old office and give her a rundown on the system while I am in this meeting?”
“Yes, sure.”
“Won’t be long,” he winks at me and walks away.
When he disappears, I let out a breath. Haylee guides me down the hall to my office—floor-to-ceiling windows, mahogany desk, potted palms. Holy shit.
I sink into the leather chair, ready to conquer, and watch as Haylee shows me the basics, telling me she is right next door if I need anything.
For today, I just want to sort through the files and mail Travis asked, so I go and gather it all, bringing it back.
I do the files first, sorting them into alphabetical order and then going and putting them into Travis’s filing cabinet.
Then, I move on to the fan mail. My god, this man has some letters.
I didn’t even know fan mail was still a thing, but here we are.
I dump the overflowing bag on my desk and sift through the letters.
All of them claim their undying love, occasional ones about a sick family member, and a few nasty ones.
God.
Then, I come across one that makes me immediately uneasy. Written on cream paper, a simple one-line note. Travis, why is she back? I warned you—get rid of her, or I will.
My fingers tremble and I flip over the envelope. No return address, just a name. TravsAngel. God. Who the fuck is TravsAngel? Is that some kind of screen name? I tuck the note in my pocket and slip out. Janice is lingering by Haylee’s office, the two of them whispering about something.
“Where’s Trav?” I ask.
“Mr. Phoenix is busy.”
“I am aware of that, but it’s important. Where is he?”
“As I said, he is busy, so, just like the rest of us, you will have to wait.”
Her tone is pissing me off.
Before I can snap back, Travis rounds the corner, his eyes narrowed like he just heard her speaking. “Janice, why is reception unattended?”
She gives me a sugar-sweet smile and leaves.
“What’s up?” he asks, eyes narrowing when he sees my expression.
I pull the note free. His face doesn’t even twitch as he reads.
“Just fan mail,” he says casually.
“Those are some passionate fans,” I mumble. “They’re talking about me.”
“Hate to break it to you, kid, but it’s not the first time I have gotten a letter about you. Believe it or not, it is normal.”
I bite my lip, trying to trust what he is saying, but something feels incredibly uneasy about the whole thing.
I can’t quite put my finger on it, but I don’t like it.
Not one bit.