Chapter 25
Tracy
“How’s everything going with your clients?” Riley asks.
She’s finally moved into her new apartment out in Utah, bare white walls replacing the mountains that used to make up the background on our video calls.
“Great,” I tell her. “I just got the home inspection back this morning, so I’m about to head into the office to go over it with Craig.”
Yes, I’m back to training with Craig. And no, I haven’t been following Blake’s ground rules, because fuck him.
I haven’t seen him since he titty fucked me last week, and he hasn’t texted me, either. Honestly, my life is so much easier to manage when he’s not around. So, why the hell am I disappointed that he hasn’t reached out? I don’t even like him anymore.
God, maybe he’s right. I want to fight with him. I want him to come after me so I can fight back and get worked up and hope he’ll actually fuck me one of these times…
“Earth to Trace,” Riley says, pulling me from my fantasy.
“Sorry.” I grab the phone from where I had it propped up on the bathroom vanity as I did my makeup. “What did you say?”
“I asked, when do your clients close?” She eyes me curiously, like she can tell what I was thinking about.
“Um, in about three weeks, as long as nothing in the inspection is a deal breaker.” I make my way back to my bedroom and rummage through the closet, trying to find something to wear. Maybe I should go with something low cut, on the off chance I see Blake…
“You’re not even listening to me,” Riley says, and I snap my attention back to her.
“Sorry, what?”
She rolls her eyes. “Okay, spill. Who is he?”
“Who’s who?” I pull out the fitted white dress I wore the first day I showed up at The Frenshaw Group. Yes, this is the one. Maybe I can use it to torture Blake like he’s set on torturing me…
“Jesus, Tracy, pay attention!” Riley snaps, but in that cute little tone of hers that wouldn’t even startle a mouse.
I focus back on my phone screen to see Riley doing her best to pout, and it brings a smile to my face. “You’re so cute when you’re trying to be mean,” I tease her.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. So, who’s the guy that has you so distracted?”
Damn it, she’s good. Too good. I bite my lip, not exactly sure what to tell her, because I don’t even know what the hell is going on between Blake and I, other than the fact that we’re both set out to make the other miserable every chance we get.
And that Blake just wants to use his leverage over me with his stupid deal to get sex.
Or titty fucks. Or whatever the hell his plan is.
And here I am, half disappointed that he hasn’t fucked me yet, half angry that I’m disappointed about it. Because I mean really, one: he’s my boss. Two: he’s an asshole. Three: it’s entirely unprofessional and could ruin my career before it’s started. And four: he’s an asshole.
Every chance he gets, he’s basically telling me that I’m nothing to him, and the only reason he even messes around with me to begin with is because this is some kind of sick game to him.
But there’s this tiny part of me that still wants him—that craves him. It’s fucked up and messy and full of hatred, but I can’t help what I want.
Or maybe I just need to get laid. It’s been way too long since I’ve gotten good dick.
I can’t bring myself to tell Riley any of this. Not until I figure out what exactly is going on, and what exactly Blake wants.
Because I will not be his dirty little secret. I will not be his office whore.
No, no, no. If Blake wants to mess with me, he’s in for the fight of his life.
I tell Riley, “It’s no one. Not yet, anyway.” When she raises a skeptical brow at me, I add, “Trust me, if it turns into anything, you’ll be the first to know.”
“Okay,” she says, but she clearly doesn’t buy a word I’m saying. “If you need to talk about it though, you know I’m here for you.”
“I know.” I toss the phone onto my bed, drop my towel, and shimmy into my dress.
“No underwear, huh?” Riley asks, laughing through the phone. “Tell me again there’s no man in your life right now.”
“Shut it,” I tell her, pulling up the zipper. “And the dress has built in support. I don’t need a bra.”
“Sure,” she laughs. “And what’s your excuse for no panties?” I glare at her and she laughs some more. “Hey, I gotta go or I’m going to be late for work. I haaaaate these early morning shifts.”
“At least it means we start our days together.” I give her a wink.
“Yeah, except that eight o’ clock for you is six o’ clock for me. So, have pity on me.”
“Fine. You poor thing. Now run along. Love you.”
“Love you, too, Trace.” Riley’s screen goes dark and the call ends.
Giving myself one last look over in the mirror, I pack up my bag and head to the brokerage. When I get there, I send Blake a silent ‘fuck you’ and head straight to Craig’s office, ignoring rules one and two of keeping him in the loop and checking in with him when I get to the office.
“Good morning,” I chirp at Craig and toss a mini candy bar onto his desk. “Have time to help me go over a home inspection report?”
Craig looks up from his computer, a grin splitting his face as he grabs the candy bar and immediately opens it. “For these?” He raises the candy bar at me before tossing it into his mouth. “Always,” he answers, his voice muffled around the candy.
I laugh. “Are you saying if I forgot to bring candy, you’d refuse?”
He ponders my question for a moment. “Let’s not test that scenario.”
Feigning offense, I slide into the chair opposite him.
Craig and I have developed a good working relationship with each other, so I have no doubts he would still help me even if the candy stopped flowing.
He’s even trusted me to help with showings for a few of his clients, so I know he respects me and my abilities, and he’s been nothing but supportive every time I pester him.
Unlike some people.
Craig and I spend the next two hours going over the report, and he walks me through everything I need to do next for Jason and Abigail. We’ve just decided to break for lunch when my phone vibrates beside me.
Blake
Come by my office before you leave
Shit. How did he know I was here? And why am I excited about the prospect of getting caught breaking his rules? A rush of adrenaline floods my system, my skin vibrating at the prospect of a fight. Except this time, it’s a fight I’m planning to win.
Yup, it’s official. I am actually insane.
Guess I better embrace it and see how far I can push him.
Me
And if I don’t?
Blake
Then my sweet little whore will learn a lesson in how to follow rules
I shift in my seat, clenching my thighs at Blake’s dirty words. It annoys me to no end that I can be offended and turned on by him all at the same time. It makes me want to run out the door and never look back while simultaneously hoping he’ll chase after me.
But I have my own plan for him today, so I give in.
Me
I’ll be there shortly.
Slipping my phone into my bag, I look back up to find Craig looking at me with a peculiar look on his face. “What?”
“Nothing,” he says, leaning back and lacing his fingers behind his head. “Tell Blake I said ‘hey’.”
My mouth drops open. How did he know that was Blake?
Craig just laughs, and I take that as my cue to leave before things get awkward and embarrassing. Grabbing my bag, I head up to the second floor.
The usual bouquet of peonies on Whitney’s desk is pink today, but she isn’t there when I reach the top of the stairs, so I head straight back to Blake’s office, ready to enact Operation Make Blake Suffer Like He Makes Me Suffer.
His office door is closed when I reach it, and I don’t bother knocking, instead pushing through and finding him at his desk. He barely spares me a glance when I walk in, his face the picture of cool indifference.
Okay, he’s either actually mad about the rule thing, or he’s just being his usual self. It’s hard to tell the difference when he’s permanently a grouch.
Closing the door behind me, I make sure to lock it, then make my way across his office.
He’s dressed up today in a crisp white dress shirt rolled up to the elbows and a black tie.
His tanned forearms flex as he types away on his laptop, and I hate the way my eyes gravitate toward his hands, watching the way his fingers fly so effortlessly across the keys. God, what is it about this man’s hands?
Maybe I have a hand kink, too. Is that even a thing?
Dropping my bag onto one of the chairs at his desk, I plant my hands on my hips. “You needed something?”
He doesn’t bother looking up from his computer. “You haven’t been checking in when you’re at the office or keeping me in the loop with the Moores.”
“There’s nothing to report,” I lie. “And I haven’t been spending much time here.”
Blake finally looks up from his computer, his eyes devouring me. “Don’t lie to me, sweetheart.”
I force my spine to stay rigid and my face innocent. “I’m not lying—”
“Craig has been filling me in on everything you two go over.” He cuts me off.
“Turns out you’ve been meeting with him at the office every morning, and yet you haven’t checked in with me once.
Not to mention, you’ve got an inspection report in there,” he gestures toward my bag, “but you haven’t given me a single update on Jason and Abigail’s home purchase. ”
Craig, the traitor. He’s officially lost all candy bar rights.
“Okay, fine. I’ve been working with Craig on this deal,” I admit. Then begrudgingly add, “I’m sorry for not checking in. Happy now?”
“No.” Blake closes his laptop and slides his chair back from the desk, patting his thigh. “Come here.”
“Seriously?” I give him a pointed look.
“Yes.” He pats his thigh again. “Be my good whore and come sit on my lap.”
A spark surges through my blood at his words, remembering what happened the last time I got on his lap, and my stomach erupts with butterflies.
Damn it, Tracy. You’re supposed to be the one in charge here. Operation Make Blake Suffer, remember?
But if he wants me in his lap… I get an idea.