Chapter 11
Trevor
“You’re late.” Maren is waiting for me in the conference room I booked for us. She glares at me as I walk in. “I’m not staying longer because you couldn’t manage to get here on time.”
I get why she’s pissed. I pushed hard for this time with her. Spent thousands of dollars to have it. But this company will always come first, and I was stuck on a call I couldn’t cut short.
The reminder that I can’t make promises to Maren—or anyone else for that matter—should have kept me from being where I am now.
It didn’t.
Because now that I know more about her—about the life she lives—I can’t seem to stay away. To keep myself from trying to help her in any way I can. Ways she knows about—like the money I’ve already transferred to her bank account—and ways she doesn’t.
Like the cameras set up around her home so I can make sure no one tries to hurt her and her daughter.
“I wouldn’t expect you to stay late to accommodate me.
” I close the door before setting the coffee I brought down in front of her, along with the pack of cheese crackers she prefers to have as an afternoon snack.
“I apologize for being behind schedule. I was arguing with our current paper supplier.”
Maren’s eyes snap to my face. “Really? About what?”
She seems genuinely interested to hear what’s going on. I don’t want to burden her with the issues that come with running a company of this size, but it’s obvious she still cares about her former position. Still wants the job to be handled correctly, even if she’s not the one doing it.
“They’re attempting to double the price they charge us.” I lower into the chair next to her. “It’s something companies regularly do because they know it’s a hassle to find a new supplier, and assume we’ll just pay the additional amount to avoid the inconvenience.”
Maren scoffs, expression filled with disdain as she grabs the coffee I brought. “You’re not going to do that, are you?”
“No. I’m not.” Every penny this company makes is important.
Not just to me and my family, but to the people we employ.
I recognize other companies need to make money too, but I would never simply increase our prices because I feel like I have a customer between a rock and a hard place. It’s not right.
“Good.” She takes a small sip, and I watch as her eyes close for just a second as she savors the extra sweet taste.
Providing her with something as simple as a cup of coffee prepared the way she prefers it shouldn’t be as satisfying as it is.
And maybe it’s not. Maybe the deep settling in my chest is because I know now Maren and her daughter will always be safe.
That I can always make sure no one is bothering them.
Maren sets her cup down, taking a deep breath before turning to me. “Why am I here, Trevor?”
That is a good fucking question. One I spent the past two hours attempting to find an answer that was acceptable to give her. Ultimately, I came up with something that’s possible, but probably not the truth.
“I wanted to talk to you about the interviews we did yesterday.” Technically, I do. It’s just not the main driving force behind my insistence Maren spend a few minutes of her day here with me.
That had a little more to do with figuring out a way to give her some cushion in her checking account.
While Maren was able to buy a used, accessible van, and her home is well-kept and tidy, she clearly doesn’t have a lot of extra money.
After hearing how difficult Ruth’s life was, I know being a single mother is a struggle.
And I don’t want Maren to struggle. Not when I can easily prevent it.
Maren’s eyes narrow. “There’s nothing to talk about. You’re in charge of hiring. Bring on whoever you want.” She turns away from me, chin lifted. “I don’t care.”
I should let her claim go uncontested. It’s the easiest and most righteous path for me to take.
But I’m not a righteous man.
I lean close, invading her space. “I think you do care. I think you care very much.” I inch in a little more, chasing the lightly floral scent of her skin. “Specifically about the pretty blonde we met with last.”
Am I a fully committed bachelor? Yes. That doesn’t mean I’m so oblivious I don’t notice an attractive woman. But attractiveness is irrelevant. It says nothing about how hard of a worker someone will be. It doesn’t indicate their intelligence or their ethics or their kindness.
Maren, however, does seem to care about attractiveness, and at the mention of Lindsey, her glare fixes on my face. “So you admit you thought she was pretty?”
“Everyone thinks she’s pretty, Maren. Objectively, Lindsey is a pretty woman. Just like Brooke and Mariah and Ruth are pretty.” I swallow hard, my eyes moving over the woman next to me. I know I should have lumped her in with the group, but pretty doesn’t feel like a word that applies to Maren.
Not in any sort of way that matters.
It’s not meant to be an insult, but Maren clearly doesn’t understand that, because she goes from tolerating my presence to considering murder in the blink of an eye.
The snarl she shoots my way is so vicious it could probably raise blood, and there’s venom in her tone as she says, “I’m glad to hear you’re surrounded by so many pretty women.
” Then she’s on her feet, ready to storm out of the room.
Before she can even take a step, I hook an arm around her waist, intending to simply stop her. I must put a little more force behind the move then I planned, because I seem to knock Maren off-balance. She tumbles backward, dropping hard and fast onto my lap.
And I’m not mad about it. Actually, it’s a definite improvement over our previous seating arrangement.
I tighten the grip I have on her, forearm banded across her belly as I pull her back against my chest. Leaning into her ear, I offer a reminder. “Your time with me isn’t up.”
Now that she’s close like this, I can pull in a lungful of her scent. Breathe in enough to fully appreciate how surprisingly feminine it is. I was so distracted in the bathroom at Brooke and Toby’s I didn’t have the chance to really experience what it was like having Maren against me.
That’s a failing I intend to rectify now.
Maren isn’t a big person. She’s a full head shorter than me, and small framed.
But I’ve seen the way she moves her daughter around.
Watched her load and unload reams of paper.
And I’ve witnessed her take on a man twice her size without batting an eye.
So, like pretty, small doesn’t feel like a word that applies to her.
“Let me go.” She fights my hold. “I don’t need your money this badly.”
“Yes, you do.” My dick perks up as she continues squirming around. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t have come here at all.”
“I changed my mind.” She grabs at my arm harder, this time digging her short nails into my skin. “It’s not worth it.” Her next move grinds her ass right against the line of my thickening cock, and I barely manage to stifle a groan.
Banding my other arm across her thighs, I pin her in place. My voice is rough as I lay down what I hope sounds like a threat. “You need to stop moving.”
“Don’t tell me what to do.” Her next shift is purposeful, the curve of her ass rolling along the line of my shaft. “I’m sure Lindsey would be more than happy to take care of that boner for you.”
Her direct response stuns me for a minute.
Then I start to laugh. It’s likely the wrong move, because it seems to piss her off even more. Now the nails digging into my skin aren’t a threat. They’re a weapon.
And it only makes shit worse.
The laugh dies in my throat, replaced by a groan as I imagine the marks she’s leaving behind. “Fuck, Maren. I don’t think you have any goddamn idea what you do to me.”
I’m not an easy guy to get along with. I’m not the sort of man who will outfit an entire kitchen or construct a swimming pool like Titus and Toby. I’m sure as shit not going to be building princess beds or impersonating farm animals like Tucker.
I’m the sort of man who pays a vicious woman to be alone in a room with him, then gets hard when she sinks in her claws.
My preference for unruly and untamable women has always existed. Maybe it’s because I like to fight. Maybe it’s because running a business has made me suspicious of anyone who seems too friendly. I wonder what they want from me, or what they’re trying to hide.
Or—more likely—I simply like women I don’t have to worry about breaking. Women I know can handle me and all I am. Those are the women who catch my attention. Not the sweet smiling faces of women like Lindsey.
“I don’t do anything to you.” Maren is full of rage now. “But I’m sure your new blonde supply clerk will.”
I smile against the silky strands of her hair, reveling in her jealousy as I pull her tighter to me. “You’re awfully infatuated with Lindsey, aren’t you?” I nip at the lobe of her ear, stifling another groan when it makes her jerk in surprise. “I wonder why that is.”
“I’m not infatuated with her,” Maren snarls. “You’re the one who keeps bringing her up.”
“I don’t think so, sweetheart.” I run my lips along the column of her neck. “That’s all you.” I shift my hold on her so I can palm the slight swell of one thigh. “And I think it’s because you’re under the impression I find her desirable.”
“You should.” Maren’s voice is still filled with rage, but she’s no longer fighting me. “She’s pretty and nice and friendly, and I’m sure she would happily jump on your dick.”
“I don’t want her on my dick.” Not in the slightest. Lindsey seems nice and is certainly hirable, but not for a second would I want a woman like her in my bed.
“Not when it’s so fun trying to convince you to take another turn.
” I slide my fingers along the bare skin of her knee before dipping under the hem of her pleated skirt.
“Don’t tell me you paid six thousand dollars thinking I’d fuck you.” Maren tilts her head to meet my eyes with a narrowed glare. “Because you could get a piece of ass for way cheaper than that.”
“I don’t want a piece of ass.” My nose wrinkles as the phrase leaves my mouth. “And I would never pay you to fuck me.”
Maren’s expression shifts to one of confusion. “Then what did you pay me for?”
Initially, I was just proving I could get her to do what I wanted. That there was a price point at which she’d be willing to overlook her disdain for me.
But now…
“I won’t pay you to fuck me, but I will happily pay for the opportunity to make you come.” I slide my hand higher, just so my meaning is clear. “And I’m more than willing to negotiate the terms.”
Maren goes very still, and a surge of victory slams through me. She’s considering it. Weighing her options and planning a counter.
And I can’t fucking wait to hear what it is.
Her tongue flicks across the fullness of her lower lip, and I want to suck off the wetness it leaves behind. “A thousand dollars.”
“Done.” It’s an easy agreement to make. I like contracts.
Deals. Understandings. It keeps things neat and tidy.
No one has expectations or assumptions outside of the terms. That’s why I decide to tighten this thing between us up a little more.
“Is there a limit on how much of my money you’re willing to take? ”
“Is there a limit on how much of your money you’re willing to give me?” Maren comes back at me without missing a beat.
And it drives the desire I have to get my hands on her again deeper. “No.”
I can always make more money. I will make more money. If for no other reason than so I can give it to her.
“That’s good to know.” Maren wiggles her ass again, smirking as I suck in a breath. Then she leans back, spreading her thighs. “Then do your worst.”
Fucking hell. Having Maren on my lap, thighs parted, pupils dilated, is going to be the death of me.
At the very least, the death of my savings account.
Without hesitation, I flip up the cute little skirt she wears at least twice a week, offering a view of her black cotton panties.
“I’m glad you skipped the tights this morning.
” I work my fingers beneath the waistband of the only article of clothing keeping me from my destination.
“But for future reference, I’m happy to work around whatever you want to wear. ”
Maren makes a soft little whimpering sound as I brush against her clit, and a slow smile curves my lips. Because now I know how easy it is to get her where I want her. How simple she’s making it for me to make sure she and her daughter have what they need.
And that Maren gets what she deserves.
“Fuck.” Her hands grip my thighs as I find the pace she seems to respond to.
I would love to have the opportunity to tease her. To torment her just a little bit. Work her up over and over again before finally allowing her to tip over the edge. But she agreed to fifteen minutes, and I will stick to that boundary.
I will also do everything in my power to bring that number higher next time.
The back of Maren’s head drops against my shoulder, and I bring the arm at her waist across her chest, my hand resting against her neck as I soak up every twitch. Every breath. Every sound. Memorizing each one so I can replay them later as I jerk my dick to the memory of this moment.
She’s so wet I can hear each flick of my fingers, and I can’t overstate how much that pleases me.
Maren can claim not to want me till she runs out of breath, but it’s clearly not true.
She can even claim it’s about the money, but that isn’t any more factual.
The money is just an excuse. Probably for both of us.
A reason to call this anything besides what it really is.
It wouldn’t do me any good to accept the truth anyway. It’s not like this can be more than a few minutes here and there. I’m not the kind of man who can offer a woman what she really wants. And I’m definitely not capable of giving a single mother the time she and her daughter deserve.
That’s why I savor the sound of Maren coming against my fingers. The sight of her flushed skin in the seconds before she comes to her senses, tugging her skirt back into place before she rushes from the room.
And the taste of her as I suck every trace of slick from my skin before opening my phone so I can deposit a thousand more dollars into her bank account.