Chapter 28
Alyse
“All bills are caught up and I ran payroll today,” Heather’s soft voice carries through the receiver.
“Good. Thanks,” I reply, relieved to have enough money that we don’t have to worry.
“I also received the quote from the web developer this morning on the enhancements you want done. I’ll email that to you when we get off the phone.”
“How much?” I ask, not able to wait.
“Five grand for full redevelopment, less than one for just some basic enhancements.”
Five grand. Damn. When I started last year, I opted for an “almost free” version of a website. Unfortunately, it looks like it. Even with this job, I don’t have an extra five grand to waste on my website, but I know it’s a client’s first impression of your organization’s level of sophistication.
“Looks like we’ll have to hold off on the redevelopment for a while then. Okay, what else?”
“When are you going to be back in the office? I have seven prospective client meetings I need to schedule. We’ve been inundated this week with RFPs.”
“Seven?” What the hell? I haven’t had this much interest in months. While I’m thrilled, I have a niggling feeling in the back of my brain that this can’t be sheer coincidence. No, there’s definitely somebody behind this. I’d bet my firstborn his name starts with the first letter of the alphabet. While I’m grateful for the help, I don’t want Asher out drumming up business, using his influence to help me. I want to succeed on my own. I’ll have to talk to him about this.
I glance at the calendar and realize I’ve been in Chicago for three full weeks now without making it back to Detroit. Tomorrow night is Livia’s bachelorette party and the wedding is next weekend already. I don’t have time to make a trip back, but I simply can’t afford to lose any potential business. If I land all of these clients, I now have a new problem, a good problem, I guess. Staffing.
“Do you think Al could take any of the meetings?”
“Let me check. But one specifically asked for you.”
I blow out a long breath. “Next week is tight with Christmas and the wedding. Can you get them scheduled for Tuesday morning or see who would be willing to have a phone or WebEx discussion? Or maybe they’d be willing to wait until the following week.”
Shit, next week is Christmas already and I’ve done absolutely no shopping. Go me. Now I have the stress of presents to add to my pile.
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thanks.”
“I kinda miss having you here,” Heather admits.
“Really? You aren’t happy to get a break from my neurotic tendencies?” Which she constantly complains about, by the way.
“Well, I admit it was nice for the first two weeks, but now I just miss you.”
“Aw. I’ll take that as a compliment. Miss you too, sweets.” I look at the clock. It’s almost three p.m. I have about three hours of work I want to finish before I call it a day. I was making good headway through the vendor matches. I found one that looks suspicious so far and I need to do a little more digging. Next I’m going to look at the various charities before I get into individual client account billings. “I gotta run. Let me know about those appointments, okay?”
“You got it, boss.”
Boss. I definitely like the sound of that.
______________
Man I love my job! As weird as this sounds, when I find the smallest of threads that someone’s tried to bury deep and I know that thread is going to lead to a big, twisted ball of beautiful yarn, that’s almost tantamount to great sex.
Hot anticipation. That lovely little feeling is the one currently flowing rapidly through my body, pumping my adrenaline, fueling my desire.
My gut is screaming that I’m onto something. A new marketing supplier was set up nine months ago and I checked them out. They’re the real deal. They have a valid website, tax identification number, and address, but something is very peculiar about the billing patterns. Marketing tends to be billed on a project or hourly rate, so pricing would vary, but all bills for this marketing company were exactly the same and that definitely feels wrong.
Also, each invoice is just below the amount required for two senior leader signatures, according to the process and procedure documents I reviewed.
I’ve been deep in research, lost track of time, and don’t even hear my door open. Suddenly I have the prickly feeling I am being watched. I look up to see Asher standing in my doorway, leaning against the jam with his arms crossed. A cocky smile turns up one corner of his mouth.
Holy hell, he’s so damn beautiful. Today he’s in a custom-made grey pinstripe suit, his silver Tag watch glittering in the florescent lighting. I have to pinch myself every time I look at him to remind myself this gorgeous man belongs to me, loves me. It’s surreal and heady. I’m not sure I’ll ever fully believe it.
As we silently devour each other, the look on his face is one of love and intense longing and instantly, that hot anticipation is no longer about finding a corporate criminal, but how fast I can get him inside of me.
“Hi, baby.” His eyes smolder. His voice is low. Raspy. Sexy as fucking hell.
“Hi,” I reply gruffly, before I stand and walk toward him, never breaking eye contact. I pull him in and shut the door, pushing him against the hard wood. When I pull his lime-green buttoned shirt free from his trousers, his breath catches.
“What are you doing?”
I say nothing while I unbuckle his belt, unbutton his pants, and separate the metal teeth of his zipper. With each brush of my hand, his cock hardens more. By the time I pull his pants and black boxer briefs down, he’s like titanium. When I drop to my knees, taking him inside my mouth for the first time, his head falls hard against the door.
“Fuck, Alyse. Jesus,” he rumbles gruffly.
His hand fists in my hair, making my scalp tingle as he holds me steady, guiding his shaft in and out. I grab the base and begin to twist as I suck, lick, and nip lightly. I’ve never really enjoyed giving a guy oral sex, but I think I could spend the rest of my days between Asher’s legs. His taste is clean, masculine, unique and the salty sweetness that hits my tongue on my first taste makes me want to bring this man to his knees daily with my mouth. I can’t believe I was missing this all this time.
“So fucking good,” he mutters, chest heaving, breathing erratic.
It doesn’t take me long to learn what he likes. When I run the flat of my tongue in a particular way right underneath his sensitive underside, swirling up to his hole and back again, his grip tightens, raw instinct taking over.
“Look at me,” he growls.
I do.
“I’m gonna come in your mouth in about ten seconds. Better stop if you don’t want that.”
I don’t. Stop, that is.
Ten seconds never felt so long…or so short, as I wait for him to make good on his promise, as he always does.
But this time he falls a little short. He doesn’t quite make it to ten.
Hot anticipation. It leads to damn good things.