Chapter Three
Tucker
I lean back in my office chair and watch my new employee on the security camera like a perverted old man. What the fuck is wrong with me?
Tilly has bent over at least twenty times in the last ten minutes as she sweeps the mess littered across the camp store into a dustpan. I’m sure it’s punishment to her, but from where I’m sitting, it’s a treat.
She shifts her hips to the left and bends down, her round ass bubbling out as she arches forward, her light hair spilling off her shoulder, that T-shirt I threw at her still off as that hot pink bra sparkles in the sunlight filtering through the window.
Fuck.
My cock presses at my zipper as my brain goes rogue, and I imagine standing behind her, gripping her hips, and plowing into her inch by inch until I’ve filled her tight, little hole to the brim.
Jesus, I’m pretty sure I’m trying not to be this simple.
Shaking my head, I turn the monitor around and lean forward on the desk, redirecting my focus to the newest client transfer form.
We’ve got a man in his fifties looking for relocation services as soon as possible.
I had an interview with him last week, and he’s been paranoid after having witnessed a crime of some sort in the Springs.
Something he won’t talk about. In a situation like this, where a client won’t give details, we usually cancel the application and move forward with the next client, but Atlas is stuck on this one and he asked me to take a second look.
I’m halfway through that second look when I glance toward the security screen to see Tilly bent over again, her thick, round ass close enough to the camera that I see the outline of what’s beneath her little skirt.
My God, I need to get out more.
What the fuck is wrong with me? This is the point. She and that stupid fucking brother of hers are playing a fucking game, and I’m falling for it like a fucking moron.
I slam my fist down on the desk and pull the plug from the back of the monitor, my brain still pulsing with thoughts of gripping her hips and fucking her ragged when the door swings open and Atlas steps inside.
“Hey, man.” He lowers his heavy frame into the chair in front of my desk with a thud, grunts, tosses his hair back, then stands again. This time he grabs a mug down from the cupboard, pours himself a cup of coffee, and finally settles. “Which way are you leaning with Bowers? He good for the move?”
“What?” I narrow my gaze toward him, finding it hard to focus on whatever he’s saying given the fact that Tilly’s hips are still on my mind.
“Bowers,” Atlas repeats. “He’s the fifty-year-old guy from the Springs who saw that crime. He’s got someone following him. He’s been texting the emergency line regularly, and he wants out.”
I shrug and close his file before clicking a pen repeatedly as though the motion and the sound will erase the thoughts of Tilly bending over, arching her back, shaking her ass.
“It’s a no-go. I got this cop in Whiskey Falls asking questions about Kade.
Thinking maybe we should cut this one loose and give the whole project a rest for a while. ”
Atlas leans forward, shoulders squared. “It’s a hundred-thousand-dollar deal. We aren’t cutting it, man. We need the money. You’ve seen the rental cabins. The guy is an accountant. He’ll follow directions.”
“That’s part of it. The guy’s an accountant. Where’d he come up with a hundred grand last minute?”
“Accountants make good money.”
“Sure, but a hundred grand?” I shrug. “I don’t know. Something feels off about this whole thing.”
“Why the hell are you so paranoid now? Cops ask questions. We know this. You stick to the script, you’re fine.” He takes a sip of coffee and sets the cup onto the front of my desk. “I’m not giving up all that money ‘cause you’re being a pussy.”
I scoff. “Yeah, sure. Same way I was a pussy when I saw the heist in the Springs starting to go sideways and you insisted we push through?” I toss the pen I’ve been clicking onto the desk and watch it roll. “Sorry, man. I’m not going back to prison.”
Atlas scrubs his hand over his face and leans forward, his fingers tangling in his shaggy hair. “We do this move and we don’t have to do another one for the rest of the year. Plus, you know I need the money, man. I’ve only got a few weeks left before that land is sold for good.”
I stretch back in the chair and sigh as I run through the possibilities, though I’m not finding any conclusion that ends with a successful move and more money. Instead, I’m finding that each pass leads Sheriff Williams straight to my fucking doorstep.
“This is low risk,” Atlas continues. “We do the IDs offsite, I bring him in through the backwoods, then take him out through the tunnels after dark. No one even knows the tunnels are there.”
I shake my head and glance down at the desk, noticing a hot pink inhaler that’s not usually here. Is it Tilly’s?
“If we know, someone else knows,” I groan. “Sorry, man. There’s too much going on right now.”
“You don’t want to do it,” he groans, jaw clenched, “fine, but I’m going through with the deal.”
He’s standing from the chair when Tilly walks in from the camp store, her sparkling, hot pink bra still on display despite the T-shirt I threw at her before I left.
What the hell?
She glances at Atlas, then back toward me. “The floor is mopped. What next, your majesty. I mean… boss.”
“What the hell is going on here?” Atlas laughs and tosses me a look like I’ve lost my mind.
Tilly steps forward, heels clicking one after the other on the hard, pine floor as she reaches her hand out toward my giant buddy whose hair is in severe need of a cut.
“Oh, hi! I’m the new front desk clerk. Tucker hired me today, then sent me in to clean the camp store.
I guess a raccoon or something got in there last night and had himself a party. ”
“Well, new front desk clerk,” he reaches his hand out for hers, “what’s your name?”
“Tilly,” she says, wetting her lips and glancing toward me briefly before staring at Atlas again. I don’t know why I’m jealous that she’s looked at him, but my fucking stomach is tight like I want to punch him in the throat for having accidentally seen her.
“Tilly,” he grins, his hand still in hers, “why are you half-naked?”
She glares toward me, her heavy breasts spilling from the cute little bra I want to tear off. “I got syrup all over my shirt.”
Atlas raises his brows and glances toward me again before returning his gaze to Tilly. “That makes perfect sense then. I, ugh… well, thank you for your dedication to the job. I can get you a T-shirt if that would make you more comfortable.”
She nods. “I’d love that. Thank you.”
“I tossed you a T-shirt,” I scoff. “You could’ve put it on.”
“Was that for me?” Her eyes twinkle with amusement. “You threw it at me, so I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to scrub the ground with it or hang it back up.”
Oh, this girl is playing games.
Atlas disappears into the camp store and returns a second later with a pink camp T-shirt. “There you go. I’m so sorry Tucker was throwing things at you. You let me know if he mistreats you again and I’ll have a word with him.”
Tilly glances at me and bites back a grin before redirecting toward Atlas. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”
“Tilly,” I groan, before Atlas can respond with more bullshit, “take a break while I finish this conversation. I’ll come find you when we’re through.”
She rolls her eyes so only I can see, then nods and turns away, her luscious ass swinging the whole time. She’s barely through the back door before Atlas is hollering back toward her.
“Why don’t you treat yourself to a snack in the camp office as well? You’ve been working hard all morning.” He glares back toward me, a grin on his face.
Tilly nods and smiles over her shoulder, the T-shirt in her hand as she disappears into the store.
“The fuck is wrong with you?” I punch Atlas in the arm. “Jesus Christ. Why are you ogling her? She’s like twenty-something.”
“What the fuck are you talking about? I got her a T-shirt and tried to cover her up. You’re the one over here with a fucking hard on.”
I tuck behind my desk again, the ache in my cock apparent.
“It’s been a while since I’ve… that’s not what we’re fucking talking about.
The problem here is that the cop that’s bothering me is her brother.
He stopped by my place this morning asking questions about Kade, making threats.
Thirty minutes later, I get here and my first interview of the day is his little sister, and she’s dressed in a bright, skimpy, little outfit. I can’t imagine this is a coincidence.”
“Oh, for sure.” He nods once. “So, why’d you hire her?”
“Keep the devil close,” I say like I believe it, though deep down I know I hired her because I wanted to keep staring. “She thinks she’s seducing me, so I’m going to let her think whatever she wants while I get some good labor out of it.”
Atlas laughs hard. Hard and fucking loud.
“Shut the fuck up.” I settle into the chair behind the desk and spin away from him.
“So, you’re busting my balls about shutting down a hundred-thousand-dollar deal while you try and fuck the sheriff’s sister?
” He’s laughing even harder now, this time while he opens the creaking door.
“Get fucked, man. I’m doing this transfer.
If you can keep your hands off that girl you just hired, we’ll be just fine. ”
“I’m not touching her. That’s fucked,” I groan, despite the fact that I’m still thinking about it constantly.
“Whatever you say.” Atlas nods, and the door slams shut behind him.
Apparently, we both know I’m full of shit.