9. Lucian
9
LUCIAN
“ I thought you were going to stay out there all night, Poison.” From my position on the bed, where I had settled in and was now flipping through television channels, I had the pleasure of seeing her scowl.
“Making yourself comfortable already?” Her scowl deepened.
“Sure. What, was I supposed to go down there and rub elbows with everybody else?”
“You know, it wouldn’t break your neck to do that.”
“It wouldn’t break my neck to do a lot of things, but that doesn’t mean I have to do them. I know you’re supposed to be my babysitter around the office, but do you have to sound like my mother too, Poison?”
Her nostrils flared the way they sometimes did when I called her that. “When you insist on acting like a child? I can’t help it.”
“Come on. Why don’t we try to start over?”
She chuckled, standing with her back to the television and blocking my view. Not that it mattered. She was much more interesting. “Fine. I would be glad to. But only if you tell me the truth about how those rooms ended up being released.”
“You heard the girl at the desk. Somebody called and said we didn’t need them.” She rolled her eyes. “Didn’t we have this discussion earlier, anyway? You made a little quip about me and my father, if I remember correctly.”
“I need to hear you say it.”
It wasn’t like she could do anything to me. “Fine. Yes, I made the call.”
“You fucking bastard!”
“I gave you what you wanted, right?” When a tissue box sailed through the air and hit the wall above my head, I sat up straight. “Listen up. Fun is fun, but that doesn’t mean you throw things at me.”
“Fun?” She burst out laughing—high-pitched, humorless. “You are a piece of work. Tell me, what’s so fun about having to scramble around and find an alternative after you fucked me over? Was that fun for you? Because it sure as hell wasn’t for me.”
“Well, should’ve thought about that?—”
“Enough,” she grunted out through clenched teeth, cutting off anything else I was about to say. “You’re not going to gaslight me into thinking anything about this is okay.”
“Now I’m a gaslighter?” I murmured, looking around like I was confused. “I’ve never heard that one before.”
Either she was too furious to hear me or didn’t care to acknowledge it. “I am sorry if you don’t like working around me. I am. It kind of sucks when there’s no choice but to go along with the shit you don’t want to do, doesn’t it? Guess what?” She threw her arms into the air. “That’s how the rest of the world lives. I don’t deserve to be treated like a joke because you can’t handle being treated like a regular, normal person. And let’s not even pretend you live like the rest of us!” she continued while I could only stare at her in disbelief. “You are still nowhere near the sort of life we live. Do you think it’s in any way normal for somebody with no experience to be promoted to vice president of an entire division in a huge company? Do you think that’s really the way the world works for anybody but you?”
She was lucky her sanctimonious bullshit didn’t get her thrown out of the lodge after I fired her smart ass. “Spare me the working man sob story and admit you’re pissy because I fucked with your retreat. I knew you would find a way out of it. And you did, so no harm was done.”
She folded her arms and popped one hip out to the side. Her lips pursed as she looked me up and down. Damn. Even now, staring daggers, she was blisteringly hot. “Sure. No harm was done. If it makes you feel better, tell yourself that.”
She went to the closet and flung the door open. From where I stretched out on the bed, I could see her reach inside and pull out an arm full of extra pillows.
“What’s that for?” I asked.
“What do you think?” She yanked the blankets back on the other side of the bed, muttering to herself as she placed the pillows in a line down the center to separate us.
“You can’t be serious,” I laughed, but she kept working. “You’re splitting the bed in half?”
“Yes, I am.” When she was finished, she pulled clothes from one of the dresser drawers and marched to the bathroom. “I’m going straight to bed when I come out. Don’t talk to me.”
I would have laughed that off if it hadn’t been for the tremor in her voice when she said it. Brief, barely noticeable, but present. The sound of somebody who might’ve been on the verge of tears.
I could deal with a lot of things, but a crying woman? I wasn’t strong enough to handle that. Now that we were alone and the first night of the retreat was over, and it sounded like she might be crying in the bathroom, I realized I couldn’t remember why it was so important to screw with her plans. She had pissed me off, yes, but childish shit like that was beneath me. Wasn’t it? I had always thought so. I wasn’t so sure anymore, and I didn’t know what to think about that.
I was glad for a phone call to distract me, at least until I saw who was calling. It shouldn’t have come as any surprise. Dad didn’t want to be here, but he wanted to keep tabs. Par for the course. “Everything’s fine,” I told him after the usual small talk. “We were held up by the weather, but it all worked out.”
“Glad to hear that. Do me a favor, would you?” he asked. I could hear the ice clinking in his glass. He could afford to sit back and relax with a drink, miles away from this farce.
I closed my eyes, bracing myself. Nothing good ever followed that question. “I’ll do what I can.”
“Get along with Ivy. Cynthia told me the girl is in knots over this. She wants so much to make life easier for the newcomers. She said that’s all Ivy could talk about this week as they worked together. Making sure everybody felt comfortable, since there was such a culture shock going from a little nothing operation like Jones to what we’ve built. It’s overwhelming for them.”
“Cynthia told you that?”
“She did. And from what I understand, Ivy is nervous about her mother. Being so far away from her all weekend when she lives in a nursing facility. I know you don’t like Ivy?—”
“I never said I didn’t like her.” Fuck, was there anything worse than hearing him talk to me like the child Ivy thought I was? Yes, as a matter of fact.
Ivy’s mom was alone in a nursing home, and instead of spending time with her this weekend, she decided to bring our employees together. And I had tried to sabotage that.
“Just the same. Take it easy on her. Maybe try to help her out a little. That’s what leaders do.”
I couldn’t have felt smaller if I tried. Like an insect. “I’ll do what I can.”
The shower turned off, and I knew better than to stay on the phone until she emerged. What would Dad do if she came out screaming mad and he heard her? “I better go. We have a long day tomorrow, and I want to rest up.”
“A wise decision.” Dammit, how did he manage to sound so condescending? My knee-jerk reaction was to consider heading down to the lounge just to defy him. How twisted was that?
I was still stewing over the impulse to defy him. However, I knew I’d only end up hurting myself by adding a hangover to the list of reasons I wasn’t looking forward to tomorrow when the bathroom door opened and Ivy emerged. She had changed into a worn-out tee and loose cotton shorts that revealed a lot more of her legs than I was used to seeing around the office.
Don’t stare, do not fucking stare. I gripped the duvet in my fists, staring at the television without seeing a damn thing on the screen as she settled into bed, making a big deal of punching her pillow like it had offended her before she slammed her head onto it with her back turned to me.
Don’t look, do not look. I didn’t need to. She was right there, a few feet away, smelling like coconut and lime, thanks to whatever she used in the shower. Her hair was back in a bun, and my fingers twitched, longing to reach out and stroke a few strands that had fallen loose just to remember its softness.
“I guess I should go.” Her body gleamed like a pearl in the moonlight. She sat up, stretching once the sheet fell away. Hunger flared up the second I looked at her, watching her body move. The full, perfect tits that swayed a little when she stretched again. The graceful line of her throat and slim shoulders. She was perfect, a masterpiece carved from marble, but very warm and very real.
And very, very wanted. “Who said?” I propped myself up on one elbow, grinning when her eyes met mine from across the bed. She didn’t believe me.
“I didn’t think you would ask me to spend the entire night.”
“Nobody said anything about the entire night,” I teased. It was fun making her blush. When we met at the country club, she gave off the impression of a girl with her shit together. Smart, unwilling to accept any bullshit lines from guys looking to get in her panties. She had made me work for it a little, teasing and challenging me as we flirted. What a fucking turn-on that was.
“Oh?” She turned to me, leaning in until her nipples brushed my chest and her mouth hovered inches from mine. I almost forgot to breathe, too overwhelmed at her nearness to do more than go hard in an instant. “You think you can handle another round? I figured I would’ve exhausted you by now.”
Rather than say a word, I took her hand and placed it over my very obvious erection. “Think again.”
And then I was on her, flipping her onto her back and settling over her squirming, soft body. “You think it’s that easy?” She giggled, squealing when I tried to part her legs.
“You tell me.” With one hand, I caressed her, letting my fingers trail over her throat, skimming her collarbone before moving lower. She melted like butter on a hot pan, arching her back, releasing a sigh that turned to a gasp when I brushed over her taut nipple. “Seems like it’s pretty easy to warm you up,” I whispered, lowering my head to take her rosy peak between my lips.
“Oh, my God…” The pressure of her hand on the back of my head was exhilarating, and the feeling only got more intense when her fingers began dancing through my hair. “How are you so good at that?”
I was good at this because we were good together. There was more going on here than me finding a way to get off as efficiently as possible after making a woman come, and I always made it a point to take care of that first.
I didn’t want to only make her come. I wanted to see how far I could take her. How many times she could shatter around me. How many times I could reduce her to a panting, sweaty mess. There was a rush involved, something bigger than anything I had ever known. I wanted to have her in every way possible, as many times as possible.
She let out a disappointed little groan when I released her nipple with a soft popping sound, but that sound turned to a satisfied sigh when I rolled her onto her stomach. I had never seen an ass like hers. My fingers pressed against her flesh, the excitement building in me while she moaned her approval.
“Touch me,” she begged in a harsh whisper, turning her head and meeting my gaze with eyes that blazed with need. She spread her thighs and lifted her ass, revealing her smooth, plump lips and the juices already glistening on them. I dragged a finger through that wetness, and she moaned again, rolling her hips and making my cock drip with excitement.
I reached over into the nightstand drawer where the pack of condoms waited, pulling another from the box and quickly unrolling it down my length. “You think this sweet pussy can take another pounding?” I asked as I dragged my head through her drenched folds.
“Yes,” she whispered, gripping the pillow under her head like she was bracing herself for what she knew was coming. “Yes, please.”
“Please, what, Ivy?” I was her king, her god, controlling every moment of her pleasure, teasing her clit with my dick, running it across her quivering hole. Promising so much but delivering nothing until I was damn ready.
“Please, fuck me,” she pleaded so sweetly that I had no choice but to give her what she wanted. And hard.
Sure. That was exactly what I needed to be thinking of. Now I had a painfully erect dick to contend with, along with the presence of a woman who would rather pitch herself off that balcony than endure my touch. I did it to myself, that much I could admit, if only to me.
At least she couldn’t see the tent I was making, still facing away from me as I turned out the light on my side of the bed and settled in, turning my back on her. “I usually sleep with the TV on,” I muttered, turning down the volume for her sake.
“That’s fine,” she muttered back. “I do too. Most of the time.”
It didn’t seem right, ending the night like that. I was starting to feel like a real piece of shit over the stunt I pulled. I couldn’t call it a prank in good conscience. I had wanted to fuck up her plans and had done it out of spite like some bratty kid.
“You did a good job today,” I offered, closing my eyes and willing myself to ignore the absolute bitch of an erection threatening to consume my every thought. I was a grown man and could handle it, so long as I stopped reminiscing about the tightness of her pussy, the way she creamed all over me.
She kept me waiting long enough that I wondered if she had fallen asleep. Eventually, she grunted, “Thanks.”
I could count on one hand the number of times I’d done something I truly regretted, and this situation marked one of them. We could be wrapped up in each other this very minute if I hadn’t gone out of my way to drive a wedge between us. Who cared about a working relationship? What we had shared went beyond that. There was no forgetting our instant connection and how well we fit together.
Not that it mattered now that I had taken our rivalry too far. All I had to show for myself was a painful hard-on and more than a few regrets which had to do with more than my cock. My conscience was beating the shit out of me too. I had acted based on assumptions, and it looked more and more like my assumptions were wrong. She wasn’t trying to steal anything from me unless being talented and gifted when it came to managing people were her weapons.
I had fucked everything up and hurt her in the process.
Now, to find a way to make it up to her… if it wasn’t too late.