Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
BANE
T he next morning, I opened my front door, freezing when I saw my mother on the other side of it. She wasn’t preparing to knock—she was simply there.
Like a vulture waiting until their meal least expected to be pounced on.
She crossed her arms as if to say “Gotcha.” Obviously, she had learned trying to get around Myers was a fail, so she lay in wait for me where I least expected. My home.
I’d be impressed if it weren’t for it being my mother.
“I don’t have time for you this morning. I have a meeting,” I said, attempting to brush past her.
“I’m not taking no for an answer this time,” she snapped, pushing past me into my condo.
I wasn’t leaving her alone in my condo, so I glanced at my watch. “You have ten minutes, Mother. I have a huge presentation for my company this morning.”
She rolled her eyes. “Your little plants and flowers,” she huffed.
Her snide remark hit its intended target. She thought I played in the dirt and what I did was meaningless. It still bothered me what she thought, although I never allowed her to see my reaction.
“What do you want?”
“There is a function a week Friday?—”
“No,” I snapped.
“Lisa Summers will be there. She is the sort of woman you need to set you on the right path.”
I rubbed my eyes. “Mother, I am not attending. Nor am I interested in meeting one of your socialites to improve my so-called image. I like my life. I love my career.”
“It’s nothing. You’re nothing!” she cried. “Your brother?—”
Again, I cut her off. “Stepbrother. And he is a clone of you. Heartless and hungry for power and status.” I shook my head. “Do you realize that I could buy and sell you? All of you?”
She scoffed. “I doubt that.”
I smirked, liking the slight look of doubt on her face. “The money left in my trust fund was invested and tripled. Then again. And again. I make a great living ‘playing in the dirt.’”
“You need to marry well. Get in with the right people. Your brother?—”
“Again, stepbrother. I’m sick of being compared to Terence. He’s a lawyer with a bad reputation, a penchant for whiskey and women way too young for his age or bank account. How you rank him so high in your favor, I will never know.” I paused. “Or care. I am not now nor ever interested in being compared to him. I had enough of that growing up.”
“I pushed you to reach your potential.”
“You pushed me to be what you wanted. Terry might have liked the attention, but I didn’t.” I shook my head. “Your second husband and his son have always held more affection in your heart than I did. Being your son wasn’t enough. I had to be what his son was. And while I couldn’t say no as a child, I can say no now.” I met her eyes, the anger evident. “You want a big society wedding and grandkids to show off? Ask Terry.”
“He could have his pick of eligible women. He’s a catch,” she insisted.
“Then let him get caught.” I held open the door. “Now, leave.”
She brushed past me, her head held high. “Such a disappointment you are.”
I nodded. “That goes for both of us.”
The sound of the door slamming between us was loud.
“Can’t we go faster, Darryl?” I barked from the back seat.
“Sorry, Mr. Bane, there’s an accident ahead.”
I looked at my watch. Thanks to my mother’s unannounced visit, and the moments I’d required to calm down from her caustic words, I was already late. I’d wanted to be in the office ahead of everyone. To make sure the model was perfect, the refreshments laid out, and everything in its place. I had worked too hard on this for it to fall apart at the last minute. I dialed Myers, upset when the call went to voice mail. I shut my eyes and counted to ten. I looked at the blocked road ahead and did some fast calculations in my head.
“Let me out. I can run faster. Call Myers and tell her I’m on my way.”
He stopped the car, and I got out, racing down the alley. By cutting through the back ways, I could shave off time and make it. Five minutes later, I was rushing through the front doors of the building. I managed to get into an elevator before the doors closed, and I checked my reflection. I looked windblown, and my tie was crooked. When the doors opened, I raced to my office, hearing voices.
Myers was waiting, her eyes wide. She handed me a damp cloth and, without my asking, straightened my tie and ran her fingers through my hair. “Darryl called,” she whispered. “I told them you were delayed with traffic. They only arrived a few moments ago themselves,” she informed me. “Isn’t running into the office late my thing?” she teased, making me smile.
She wore a pretty navy-and-white polka-dot dress, tied at the hip with a flirty bow. There were frills at her waist and hem, and she looked cool and professional. Her hair was down, hanging over her shoulders in soft waves. My fingers itched to touch her hair and to find out if that flirty bow was real or simply for show. But I shook my head to clear it. I had to concentrate on this meeting.
“Is everything ready?”
“Yes.”
Without thinking, I grabbed her arms and pulled her close, pressing a hard kiss to her mouth. “Thank you.”
Because of Myers, everything was perfect. Coffee and her homemade muffins were laid out. The model was covered and the office pristine. I greeted the clients, smiling as they gushed over the muffins and what a treasure my assistant was. They held foamy coffees in their hands, the art on the top more of Myers’s handiwork. I drew in a deep breath, smiling as she came in, handing me a coffee, then sat by my desk, her notebook at the ready.
I sipped my coffee, giving everyone a chance to finish their morning treat. Joanne grinned at Myers. “I need to hire you for the resort. These are the most delicious muffins I have ever eaten.”
Myers laughed, shaking her head. “I’m quite happy here.”
“I’d make it worth your while.”
Myers smiled. “I’m honored. It’s my grandmother’s recipe, and I’m happy to share it with your chef. I have family obligations here.”
“Of course. I’ll be in touch about the recipe. And if you change your mind, let me know.”
Myers inclined her head, gracious and silent. I was glad that subject was closed. She wasn’t going anywhere.
Then I went to the model, waiting for my partners to join me. “Ready?”
Joanne and Randy nodded, eager. I watched as their eyes widened and the look of delight spread on their faces as the model was revealed. I went through it step by step, describing in detail everything built into the plan they couldn’t see. When I was done, we all answered questions about the entire concept.
I peeked at Myers, surprised to see tears in her eyes. She mouthed “I’m so proud” at me, and I threw her a subtle wink, making her smile.
Suddenly, everything else faded away. The disappointment of being interrupted last night vanished. My mother’s snide words no longer mattered. Myers’s opinion, my client’s reaction, were all I cared about.
And I would hold on to those.
The whole meeting went well. Randy and Joanne loved everything. They were excited and informed us they were offering us their next project without going to tender.
“You’ve shown us your best,” Randy said. “Every time, you’ve hit it out of the park. We want your stamp on the next one. You have our business.”
Lawson, Anderson, and I all exchanged triumphant glances.
Myers slipped out of the office, and we sat discussing the next project. They were as big on conservation as I was, and when they described the next hotel complex, my mind was already firing. All of us were scribbling notes since we worked hand in hand, my landscaping complementing the buildings they would create and/or refurbish. I was in the zone, hyped up on the success and enthusiasm of the people around me. As usual, I kept my emotions in check, but I was pleased. More than pleased.
After the clients left, my partners stayed behind, and we went over ideas and plans. Myers brought more coffee and muffins, staying in the background. As she slid the tray onto the desk, I eyed the bow at her hip again. She met my eyes, rolling hers as if guessing my train of thought.
Once we were done, my partners insisted on going out to lunch to celebrate, and I couldn’t get out of it. I wanted to stay at my desk and begin sketching. Eat the delicious sandwich Myers would give me. Talk to her. But I agreed to go, stopping at Myers’s desk to tell her I was out for the afternoon.
“Take it off,” I whispered.
“I beg your pardon?” she replied, her eyebrows shooting up.
“The afternoon,” I replied. “I know these two. I’ll roll them into a taxi around three, and then I’ll come back here and work. Finish what you’re doing and head home.”
“Thanks,” she said.
I left, feeling oddly bereft. I should have told her I wanted to stay there with her. Listen to her talk, tease her about charming the clients, looking so sexy. But I stayed silent.
It was well past three when I walked back into the building, dodging the rain that was falling. Myers’s desk was empty, and I stared at it, recalling the other people who had sat there. None of them had done half the job she did on a daily basis.
I entered my office, shocked to find her leaning on the back of the sofa, staring out the window. Her coat and purse were on the cushions, and she was twirling a lock of hair. The office was dim, the lights off, and the clouds casting shadows through the windows.
“Myers?” I asked. “I gave you the afternoon off. Why are you still here?”
She didn’t move. “I know. But I had some things to do. I was waiting for the rain to stop.”
I stood beside her, mimicking her stance. “It should be soon. It was only going to rain for a while.”
We were silent.
“Were you really waiting for the rain?” I asked. “Or me?”
She didn’t answer but laced our fingers together. I looked down at our linked hands, astonished at how intimate it felt.
“You were amazing today,” she said quietly, nudging my shoulder. “So knowledgeable, fervent on the subject. So in the zone.”
“You had tears in your eyes,” I responded. “Why?”
She sighed, turning toward me. “You hold yourself back all the time. You keep your emotions locked down. But when you’re discussing something you’re passionate about, you open up. Your voice changes, you use your hands. It’s as if you’re bursting to share your information. Your insight. You make those around you feel that passion. That drive. It was amazing to watch. I love seeing that side of you.”
“I agree it doesn’t happen often.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
We stared at each other. The air around us began to bubble with the heat between us. “I feel that way when you’re close,” I confessed.
“So Saturday wasn’t only scratching an itch?”
“Not even close. And yesterday only made it worse.”
Our eyes remained locked, my body beginning to tighten. The high I had been on all day rushed through my system, my blood pumping fast, my heartbeat picking up. Myers breathing became faster, her hand curling at her side.
“I was wondering all day about this bow,” I murmured, fingering the material.
“What about it?” she asked, her voice tremulous and low.
“If it was real or just for show.” I tugged on it gently. “What it was hiding.”
“Why don’t you find out?”
I tugged harder. “I intend to.”
The bow gave way under my impatient fingers, revealing creamy, smooth skin. Lace. I pulled her close, dragging my lips up her neck. “You have a thing for lingerie, Maggie darling?”
She shivered. “I like pretty things.”
I nipped at her skin. “I like you. There isn’t anything prettier in my eyes.”
“The door,” she whispered, a plea in her voice.
I had the doors locked and was back in a flash. She was relaxing against the sofa, her dress gone, nothing but blue silk and lace over her full breasts. Nowhere else.
I stood in front of her, narrowing my eyes. “Have you been bare under this sexy dress all day?”
“Yes.”
I lifted her to the sofa, standing between her splayed legs. I traced my fingers over the lace, snapping the front closure open, her breasts spilling out into my hands. I groaned at the feel of her hard nipples on my palms. I bent and sucked one, then the other, Magnolia whimpering as I slipped my fingers down her torso to where she was wet. Her clit was a hard nub under my thumb, and I strummed it, listening to her soft gasp as I slid my fingers inside her.
“Alex,” she groaned.
“Yes, darling, say my name,” I murmured, shrugging off my jacket and getting rid of my shirt and tie as quickly as possible. She fumbled with my belt, and the sound of my zipper in the room was a low hiss as it opened. I moaned as she wrapped her hand around me, and I covered her mouth with mine, needing her taste to ground me. We kissed as the last of my clothing was discarded, and I fell to my knees, covering her with my mouth, licking and lapping at her. She was perfect. Sweet, tangy, musky on my tongue. She wound her hand into my hair, tugging, whispering my name, begging me for more. More tongue, more sucking, more fingers. She started to shake, her grip on my hair tightening. She pushed her hips forward, repeating my name as she climaxed. I gentled my touch, standing, and kissing her again. She flung her arms around me, holding me tight, feeding me her tongue and exploring my mouth.
“I want you, Magnolia,” I pleaded. “I need to have you.”
“Please.”
Then it hit me. “I don’t have a condom.”
“Your bathroom?” she asked, hopeful.
I shook my head, touching her cheek with affection. “I used the few I had here. It’s not like I’ve ever had sex in the office. The ones we used the other day were all I had.”
She looked sad, then her face brightened. “Oh, I have one!”
She reached over, digging in her purse, and held a small package high like a trophy.
“I knew they’d come in handy one day.”
Then she dropped to her knees. “First, I need to say hello.”
The feeling of her mouth on me was indescribable. Hot, wet, teasing. Her tongue traced the lines and ridges lightly, then she nuzzled the head, kissing the tip. Passion, a hot, heavy need for her, rushed through me, and I couldn’t wait another moment. I groaned as I caressed her head.
“Save the rest for later. I need to be inside you.”
She rolled on the condom, and I pulled her to her feet, kissing her hard and deep. I lifted her to the back of the sofa and settled between her legs, snapping my hips and driving myself deep inside her.
She cried out softly, holding my shoulders. I moved in shallow, rapid strokes. The feel of her clutching me, her heat surrounding me, turned me on even more, and I lifted her higher, her legs wrapping tight around me. It was incredible. My entire being was on fire, my body glistening in the low light. Our skin slid together, the noises between us erotic and constant. I felt tingles around my dick, small prickles of sensation I hadn’t experienced before. I wasn’t sure I liked them, but I couldn’t stop. I was too lost in the moment.
And then, I was too hot. The sensations happening were no longer tingles of anticipation and pleasure. It was uncomfortable. My cock felt odd, burning. Aching. An itch started in my balls, fanning out and up along my shaft.
Something was wrong.
“Magnolia, I’m burning,” I gasped, stilling.
“I’m on fire for you too,” she replied. “Don’t stop, Alex. I’m so close.”
“No, I mean badly. My dick hurts.”
She frowned, opening her eyes and meeting mine. “It hurts?”
“It’s burning. And beginning to itch.” I set her down, pulling out, horrified to see my cock swollen and red, almost glowing through a purple-colored condom.
“Where did you get the condom?” I gasped.
“At a bridal shower.”
“I need to get it off. Now,” I panted. I had been so caught up, I hadn’t checked the package. I was allergic to latex and spermicide. Chances were this condom contained both.
I pushed away, heading to the bathroom. The head of my dick was swelling more, and the uncomfortable tightness of the condom was getting to be too much. My balls itched and were turning redder, beginning to swell as well.
Myers appeared beside me, looking at my cock. “Oh God, that looks painful.”
“It is,” I snapped. “I need it off.”
But despite my desire having deflated, my dick was still swollen and getting bigger every moment. The pain grew as the inflammation spread. I tried to get the condom off, but my cock was so enlarged the condom was beginning to cut off circulation.
“Should I call 9-1-1?” she asked, sounding panicked. “If that gets any tighter?—”
“No,” I yelled, thinking of how the gossip would spread. Faster than my dick was swelling. “Don’t call 9-1-1.”
Myers raced to my desk, then returned, a pair of scissors in her hand.
“What do you think you’re doing with those?” I demanded.
“Cutting off the condom.”
“I was circumcised as a baby. I don’t need to redo that,” I replied. “Or end up in the ER with a missing dick.”
She shook her head. “Just the end to help loosen it.”
I groaned. It felt as if my dick was being squeezed off my body. The burn was getting worse. I couldn’t get the condom off, no matter what I tried. I had no choice.
“Jesus, be careful.”
“Wait!”
She raced away, returning with, of all things, a spoon and a tube of lip gloss.
“What the hell?”
“I’ll slide the spoon under the condom, then cut it. The lip gloss will help.”
I had no choice but to trust her. And I was desperate enough to let her try.
“Get. It. Off.”
She kneeled in front of me, and I had to shut my eyes. Despite the pain, she was naked, her skin and breasts right there, and every part of me noticed her nakedness. I was a sick, sick bastard.
I gripped the counter, holding my breath, praying no blood was about to be spilled. I felt the cold of the metal press against my skin, slowly easing down the shaft of my dick. Seconds later, I felt the relief of the condom loosening, and she quickly rolled it off. All the sensations that had been muted now tripled. The burning, the itching were intense. My dick was the color of a fire hydrant, my swollen balls a matching set.
I jumped in the shower, turning it on. The cool water made me yelp, but as it warmed, it helped with the immediate itching. I was careful as I handled myself, letting the water get everywhere to wash away the spermicide.
“I don’t understand,” she said from the other side of the glass. “What happened?”
“I’m allergic to latex and spermicide,” I snarled.
“Why don’t you have an EpiPen?”
“I’m usually more careful, and I can’t be bothered.”
She muttered something about learning my lesson, then raised her voice.
“You should have said something.”
“I was a little caught up with trying to fuck you,” I replied tersely.
She slammed the door on her way out.
I finished and got out of the shower. My dick was red and still swollen, and it hurt to touch. I opened the drawer, finding the antihistamines and swallowing two down, using my hand to cup the water to my mouth. I dried off, walking into the office, heading to my desk. Myers was on the sofa, fully dressed, looking upset.
I picked up my phone and called a friend. He was a doctor, his office was close, and I trusted him.
He answered quickly. “Alex?”
“Sam, you in the office?”
“Yes.”
“I need a huge favor.”
“Name it.”
“I need a shot. I’m having an allergic reaction, and I can’t really come there. I’m at the office.”
“Reaction to?”
I drew in a deep breath. “Latex and spermicide.”
There was silence for a moment. “I’ll be there in ten.”
I hung up and looked at Myers, who was staring at me, stricken.
“You should go.”
“But—”
“He’ll be here in a minute. You need to go. Now .”
She stood, grabbing her coat and purse. There was an awkward silence, then she hurried away. I shut my eyes, knowing I should reach out, say something. Comfort her. Tell her I would come see her after. But the outside door shut, and she was gone. I hung my head. Once again, my inability to communicate on a personal level had reared its ugly head, and I had hurt her feelings.
I would have to make up for it tomorrow.
If I survived tonight.
The shot took thirty seconds, and Sam waited until it was done before starting the jokes.
“I guess we don’t need to have the whole being safe talk. Well, not entirely, but…”
“Ha-ha-ha.”
“Anyone I know?”
“Nope.”
“In the office, huh?”
“Leave it alone.”
He picked up the little bag from the corner of my desk. “None of these will work for you unless you’re looking to die. I’m not even sure how much protection they offer.”
“I figured that. I’ll return them to the lady.”
He held up one. “This glow-in-the-dark one might be fun. Now you see it, now you don’t. Adult magic. Or, you know, a fun Star Wars game. Where is the lightsaber now?”
“Stop it,” I demanded, trying not to laugh. Myers would love that game.
He dug into his bag, handing me a box. “These, ah, will protect your junk. I really don’t want to have to look at it again.” Then he handed me a tube of cream. “This will calm the exterior itch. You’ll be fine in the morning. Ready to rock and roll again. Although you might be a bit sensitive.”
“Thanks.”
“Maybe check next time. And I suggest, once again, keeping an EpiPen on hand.”
I grunted, but I wondered if maybe he was right.
“I was caught up in the moment.”
“Obviously.”
“You wanna get a beer and a burger?” He grinned. “I mean, obviously, you can’t fuck the rest of the night. Might as well catch up.”
“Anyone ever tell you that you have the worst bedside manner around?”
“Nah, my patients love me. I’m serious with them, but if I can’t have fun teasing my friend over his swollen pecker, what good is being a doctor?”
I rolled my eyes and grabbed my jacket, wincing a little as the movement brushed my sore dick against the material of the sweats I had changed into.
“What good, indeed? Come on. I owe you.”
“Yeah, you do. We agreed never to look at each other’s balls years ago.”
“Shut it.”
“You can look at mine if it would make it less embarrassing. Tit for tat sort of thing. Of course, mine aren’t red and itchy or unnaturally the size of baseballs, but still, they’re impressive.”
I groaned. It was going to be a long night.
The day started like shit, got fabulous, but appeared to be ending on a low note.
I hoped tomorrow would be better.