Chapter 12
12
LINCOLN
S he shows up at the airport with a small suitcase and an overnight bag on her shoulder. She certainly doesn’t pack like most of my assistants when we go on work trips. They’d come with two massive suitcases like we’d be gone for weeks.
I watch her walk up to the private terminal in her skinny jeans and white tank top. Her sunglasses and gold jewelry give her a casual yet sophisticated look. I’ve never seen her in anything but business attire. It reflects her true age of twenty-one. It makes me feel even more like shit for my dick twitching in my pants at the moment.
It reminds me of the promise I made myself the other night. I have to start making sure I bring our working relationship back to something more professional. I need her to be afraid of me again.
When she walks into the building, she pushes her sunglasses to the top of her head, pulling some of her long brown locks up with it. Her face is flushed from the heat—or maybe something else. Something I’m not ready to admit.
I look down at my watch. “You’re late,” I bark.
Her face turns down. She glances at her gold watch. “It’s, like, thirty seconds past noon.”
“I told you noon. Not thirty seconds after noon,” I demand.
She huffs a breath of air but gives up her luggage to the staff. I’m eyeing her outfit. It’s nice. Definitely laid-back for flying, but I can tell the clothing and jewelry are expensive. She looks so classy.
“Do you have the itinerary for the weekend?” I ask, needing to focus my mind back on work.
“Yes, Mr. Monroe. We should make it to our hotel by six thirty, giving us an hour to get ready before the cocktail party at eight.”
“And you booked our rooms?” I confirm as we head for the tarmac.
She rolls her eyes. “Obviously.”
I stop by the doors and turn. “Miss Ricci, I think you’ve forgotten who you’re speaking to.”
She widens her eyes, possibly thrown off by my using her last name again.
“You work for me,” I state matter-of-factly as I step closer into her space. “And while I might have let you get away with your attitude recently, I must remind you that I do not permit that kind of demeanor. Not from anyone.”
Her breaths become ragged. “You … you’re trying to scare me.”
I shake my head like she isn’t spot on. “No. I’m reminding you where you stand so you can act accordingly.”
Her mouth opens, almost as if to say something defiant, but then she closes it again. Damn if I don’t want to know what she was going to say. I see her rub her thighs back and forth but then think I’m imagining it. Of course, I am. There’s no way.
“Understood, Mr. Monroe,” she says, then walks outside.
I’m left standing in my own personal hell. My head falls back as I realize how screwed I am. No matter what I say or do, I don’t think my thoughts are going to change. This is going to be one long weekend. I should find someone to bring back to my hotel room to remind me what I can and cannot have. And my assistant is one thing I cannot have.
The flight to LA is quiet. We’re sitting on opposite ends of the plane from each other. I can’t tell exactly how mad she is right now, but I’m itching to find out.
To occupy my brain, I pull out my laptop and work. Not without noticing that she does the same. I do have to give it to her—she’s a great assistant. She works hard and never makes the same mistake twice. Most importantly, she isn’t after me.
Which is a good thing. It’s a damn good thing, no matter what my brain is telling me right now.
When she told me she had been taking care of her brother since she was sixteen, I almost fell out of my chair. I can’t imagine what she’s been through. She has put all her happiness aside to make sure she gives him a good childhood. I’m absolutely floored that she has been able to accomplish what she has, given her life circumstances.
She is now the assistant to one of the wealthiest executives in New York City, and she’s only twenty-one. And she’s killing it too.
When the plane touches down, our luggage is transferred into the town car, which transports us to our hotel in LA.
She practically has her head out of the window the entire drive, like a dog. It’s not until we are minutes from our hotel that she sticks her head back in with a smile.
“This place is so amazing.”
“You’ve never been to LA before?” I ask.
“I’ve never been out of the city before,” she says as her eyes hit mine.
I’m dumbfounded. She’s never been outside of New York City.
“Never?” I ask.
“When was I going to fit that in while raising an adolescent boy with practically no money to my name?”
Fuck, I’ve lived a privileged life. Sometimes, you can live in your own sorrows for so long that you forget other people have had it so much worse.
When the driver opens the door, I’m saved from answering her because I have no good response. And that doesn’t happen to me, not anymore at least.
After we check in, we make it to our rooms on the top floor.
“I’ll come to your room when it’s time to go downstairs. Does a quarter to eight work?”
She nods her head and disappears into her room.
I knock on her door at exactly a quarter to eight. When she opens the door, my breath catches in my throat. I do my best to recover before she notices anything.
Does she just keep getting more beautiful by the day, or was I just blind as fuck when I met her?
Her black dress fits her body like a glove. It’s a see-through mesh material that looks like it has a nude-colored fabric underneath. It’s giving off this illusion that maybe it’s her skin. My dick is eager to see what she looks like without the dress on.
The lights of the city shine through the window behind her, but all I see is the woman before me. My pulse is a dangerous drumbeat.
“You clean up nice, Mr. Monroe,” she says with a smile on her face.
I don’t miss the appreciative gleam in her eyes as they take in my suit.
“I think you’re the one who cleans up nice. That dress—” I start but catch myself before I say too much. “It’s distracting. Just remember, we’re not here for distractions; we’re here for work.”
Her face falls slightly before she recovers. “I’m just here to do my job, like always, Mr. Monroe.”
After an hour of schmoozing with all the people in the industry, I can tell Kylie is exhausted. It’s not easy to come to these events and make the kind of small talk that it takes to keep the evening going. Then I see Galvin approach her when she’s at the bar. My body tenses at just the sight of him near her.
What is his angle? Does he know that she is my assistant?
Mr. Hendrix, a man I’ve known for years, stands before me, but his words are drowned out by the thumping pulse in my ears as I watch Galvin’s hand rest on her lower back while she laughs at something he said.
That’s about all I can take. I excuse myself from Mr. Hendrix and take long strides across the room. Kylie’s eyes catch me when I’m halfway there. She must sense my anger because her eyes open wide, and she doesn’t take them off of me the entire time I close the distance between us.
“What are you doing?” I accuse in a voice that I don’t even recognize.
“Um, I’m talking to someone and getting another drink.”
“Nice to see you, Lincoln. It’s been a while,” Galvin says as he extends his hand.
I shake it begrudgingly. “Galvin.”
“You two know each other?” Kylie looks between us.
Galvin smiles. “I should ask the same thing.”
“Cut the shit, Galvin. You know this is my assistant. What are you doing? Trying to get some information? Can’t beat me in the boardroom, so you gotta try to get some information from my assistant?”
“Oh, please. Don’t be paranoid,” he bites. “I just noticed this beauty was left all alone. It felt wrong to watch someone who owns the room look so lonely.”
He’s trying to make me feel like shit. Trying to get under my skin. I’m not going to let him.
“Excuse me. Please don’t talk about me like I’m not right here,” Kylie inserts.
I look over at her. “This is Galvin. He is the CEO of a competing airline.”
“Oh,” Kylie replies, then looks at Galvin like she’s sizing him up.
“We were just talking about using the amazing rooftop pool after the morning conference tomorrow. She said something about her boss probably not being okay with it. Now that I know it’s you, I see her point.”
“She can use the pool if she wants to use the pool,” I reply as I look at her.
She responds with a forced smile, “Thanks, Mr. Monroe.”
Galvin’s laugh is filled with arrogance, designed to get under my skin. “You make her call you Mr. Monroe? How typical of you.”
Kylie bites her bottom lip as she watches me.
“It’s getting late,” I state. “I think Kylie and I will finish our drinks together, then get some sleep. I’m sure we’ll be seeing you.”
She follows my lead and walks with me until we find a spot by a large pillar in the ballroom. I lean against it, my muscles tense as I catch Galvin still eyeing us.
“What was that all about?” she asks, then takes a sip of her wine.
“Nothing. He’s just our biggest competitor—and a bit of a dick.”
She laughs effortlessly. A sound that I realize I like far too much. “He was perfectly friendly before you came by. I think there’s more to it.”
“Fine. We went to high school together in the city. He wasn’t the nicest person.”
Her head turns to the side as she studies me. “You mean, the almighty and powerful Lincoln Monroe had a bully?”
I know she’s joking, and I try to crack a smile to end this entire conversation, but I see the moment she sees right through it. There’s more to the story, but I don’t talk about it, and she seems to understand that we’re done with this conversation.
An awkward silence falls upon us. I watch her fidget, but don’t do anything to ease her nerves. I just stare at her in that damn dress that has been killing me all night.
“Just so you know, you can call me Lincoln.”
I don’t know where that came from. I’m supposed to be keeping this distance between us. Now, here I am, giving her the green light to end the formality. It’s a stupid move but fuck if I have any control where she is concerned.
“Are—are you sure?” she whispers.
I should tell her no. Tell her it’s dangerous and the line between employee and boss could start to blur in my mind.
“Please. I want you to,” I reply. “What do you say we go back to our rooms?” I glance down at my watch. “It’s one in the morning our time. We need to get some good sleep if we’re going to survive the weekend.”
We both ditch our drinks on a table and head for the elevators.
Alone in the elevator, I look over at her and remember this is her first time in LA. This is her first time outside of New York.
“I’m sure there will be plenty of time for you to use that rooftop pool tomorrow.”
Her brow arches delicately, as if I caught her by surprise. “It’s fine. I know you told me we came here to work.”
“I insist. It’s the weekend. There’s no reason you can’t escape for a bit and have a little fun.”
A soft smile appears on her lips. “Thank you. What about you?” she asks as we walk off the elevator and onto our floor.
“What about me?” I ask.
“Do you ever escape and have some fun on these trips?”
She doesn’t know what she just asked. All it does is make me imagine taking her into my room right now and having all the fun I want to have with her.
We get to our doors, and I sweep my gaze up her unapologetically—deliberately.
“I know how to have my own fun. But it’s a little more intimate—a little dirtier than sunbathing at a pool.” I watch her throat bob at my words, and a smirk takes over. “Have a good night, Kylie.”
“You too, Mr. Monroe.” Her voice wavers.
“Lincoln,” I correct. “Don’t make that mistake again. You know how much I dislike it when you disobey me.”
With that, before I do something stupid, I walk into my room and close the door. I fall back against the door with the most uncomfortable hard-on I’ve ever had. My jaw tightens as my head hits the wood. With my eyes closed, I wrestle with what I want to do right now and what I should do.
Ignoring the voice that tells me to just get in bed and go to sleep, I reach for my buckle and undo it as images of my assistant in that damn dress she was wearing tonight flood my brain. I pull my dick out of my pants. My fist tightens around my shaft as I move it along my thickness, nice and slow. I want to savor the feeling.
Knowing that she is right next to me in the other room just heightens how crude and vulgar what I am doing is. I wonder how she would feel if she knew I was fucking my own hand to thoughts of her.
I picture her standing in front of me as she slowly takes off her dress. She’s in a lacy black lingerie set. That makes my fist move faster, and I grip it tighter as my body reacts to the images in my head.
I keep up the pace as she glides the straps of her bra off her shoulders and unsnaps it. I’m already on the verge of exploding, and then it falls to the ground. Her perky breasts and rosy nipples are there for my eyes to feast on.
The next second, I’m exploding all over my hand with a groan.
Once the euphoria wears off, I’m left with regret, but most of all … confusion.