Barclay

Two weeks have passed since the babysitting fiasco night, or as I call it, the beginning of our platonic relationship, and it was the last time I’ve been alone with Tessa. We’ve shared crowded elevators at work. Sent friendly texts. I made sure mine were all innocent in nature, because the dirty things I want to tell her would get me fired and her dismissed.

Our hungry glances across the boardroom table during the weekly marketing meetings have left me aching to touch her soft skin again, kiss her lips, and devour every inch of her. Occasionally, I’m close enough to catch her perfume in the air. Even now, if I close my eyes, I can imagine her scent. It’s sealed in my memory as a form of self-torture.

Being apart from her hasn’t separated me from her. I feel an invisible thread connecting us, making me hyperaware of her presence. That’s how I know she arrived, at my father’s birthday party, before I even see her. I feel her essence in the air like a mist cooling my skin.

“Barc,” my sister says, grabbing my attention. We’re leaning against the terrace balustrade connected to my parents’ home. The party is below us on the lawn. “Isn’t that Tessa, the young woman you brought to the Warwick Awards? Over there by the pool house, next to the bar.”

I find Tessa before my sister finishes her question. She’s wearing the same dress from the night we first saw each other. Her shoulders are creamy smooth, and showcased by pink ruffles. I swallow back my desire for her with a swig of my bourbon.

“Yes, that’s her.” My voice is impassive, giving nothing away, while knowing my inquisitive sister will work me until she knows everything.

“Is she here as your date?” She turns toward me, scanning my face for a crack in my armor, and she’ll find it if she looks close enough.

“No,” I quip, watching Tessa beam at Mark, the new hire in accounting. “She works at Hammond now.”

My jaw tenses when he places his hand on the small of her back and leads her to the banquet buffet. As they walk together, he catches a lock of her hair and releases it. My fingers tighten around my bourbon glass. I’m surprised it doesn’t shatter to pieces. The fucker wants her.

“Goodness, Barc,” Victoria says with a pained tone. “You’ve fallen in love with her, haven’t you?”

I turn to face my sister, letting her witness my agony. She places a hand on my arm, tilting her head and sighing, knowing my answer without me uttering a word.

“Does Mother know?” Her eyes fill with concern.

“No one knows, and it has to stay that way. She’s my employee. We can never happen.”

“I’m sorry, Barc. I wish there was something I could do.”

I linger on the terrace long after Victoria leaves, only joining the party after I’ve finished off my drink and need a refill.

Another bourbon later, I’m mingling with the crowd of revelers. It will likely be my father’s last executive birthday party. The doctors say his memory for faces and names may not last another year. But today, he seems on top of the world as everyone wishes him happy birthday.

Not far from my father, I watch Tessa and Mark. He says something to her, and she hesitates, looking away. When she glances back at him, her lips form the word, “okay.” Mark answers with a smile saved for winning a million-dollar lottery, because I believe he won something more worthy than he deserves. Her.

I stride toward them, needing to know if she’s agreed to go out with him. My stomach twists at the thought of this man’s hands on her. As I near them, I slow my pace and take a couple breaths, trying to regain control of this fire racing through my veins.

“Hello, Barc—I mean, Mr. Hammond,” Tessa says. Her bright blue eyes dart between Mark and me in worry.

“Mr. Hammond,” Mark addresses me. I stuff my hands inside my pockets before he tries to shake either one. Very grown up, Barclay. “Great party, sir.”

“Yes, some of us seem to be enjoying it more than others,” I scoff, causing Mark to look at me confused.

“I think he means some people have nothing left in their glass.” Tessa holds up an empty champagne flute for the save. Southern women and their polished manners.

“Here, let me get you another. I’ll be right back.” Mark takes her glass and scurries toward the bar like a love-struck man. Bastard.

“Barc,” Tessa warns through a fake smile. “What’s the matter with you? All the executive staff is here, so you better be careful.”

“What did he ask you?” I demand.

“Oh God, please not here.” She lowers her head, shaking it.

“Follow me and plaster on a big fat grin like you mean it.”

I casually lead her across the manicured grass to the stone patio. Since everyone’s mixing company ranks at the party, no one seems to take notice of us.

Our final destination is a game room inside the lower level. I open the patio French doors for Tessa and glance back toward the party. I can’t see anyone, even at my height, meaning we’re hidden from prying eyes.

“Through the doors and to the right. The room with the pool table,” I tell her, and Tessa follows my orders, but her searching eyes show concern.

Once we’re both in the room, I close the door and lock it. There aren’t any outside windows, so we have total privacy. Tessa leans her lovely ass against the pool table, arms across her chest. I stalk toward her, placing my hands on either side of her thighs, gripping the felt covered edge of the table.

I stare down at her. She has eyes like the clearest morning sky, pouty lips begging for my kisses, and a hint of cleavage that drives me insane.

“What’s going on with Mark?” I say his name with disgust. Tessa avoids my question and glances down at the floor.

“Please answer me?” I ask quieter, ratcheting down my anger laced voice. “I shouldn’t take out my frustrations on you.”

“You don’t think I’m frustrated too?” She meets my gaze, fire in her eyes. “Being so near you at the office. Friendly texts with you when I’d rather be doing other things. It’s driving me mad.”

She pushes one of my hands off the pool table, freeing herself, then walks away from me. When she stops, I notice her slumped shoulders slightly moving up and down. Shit, I’ve made her cry.

Unable to keep a proper distance from her, I turn her toward me and pull her into my arms. She folds into my chest, so small and delicate. I want to tell her it’s going to be okay, wash away her hurt, but I don’t see a way out of our dilemma. She begins to calm as I caress her back in soothing motions.

“Just being friends isn’t working out very well, is it, sweet girl?” She peers up at me with soft, watery eyes that break my heart. A tear falls down her cheek, and I brush it away.

“It’s horrible, Barclay.” Her voice quivers. “I met your father today. He’s a lovely man, just like you. The consequence of us being together became more real to me. I only have a lifestyle to lose, find another job in the city or elsewhere, but your loss is a legacy built by your father. I can’t be the woman who causes it to burn to the ground.”

“What are you trying to say?” I ask.

“I think it’s best if we quit texting each other and take a break. It’s just too hard being this close to you while wanting more.”

“So, you’re going to go out with him then.”

“Just to a Yankee’s game tomorrow as friends.”

“No man, including me, can ever be just friends with you. Haven’t the last few weeks proven that?” I place a finger under her chin, lifting it higher. “Can I do one thing before you walk out of my life for good?”

“What is it?” she breathes.

“May I kiss you?”

She closes her eyes and exhales, and my pulse races as I wait.

“Yes,” she whispers, opening her eyes.

Our lips touch, moving slowly and sweetly at first. Tentative. But as we continue, the passion we’ve suppressed turns into a raging blaze of need and desire. She places her hands beneath my shirt, touching me with a simple graze of her fingers. The initial feelings are too much, and I flinch as if burned. But nothing holds her back—or me.

I kiss over the curve of her throat, continuing to the swell of her breasts. Wanting more access, I push her over-the-shoulder dress down, exposing a lacy strapless bra. It’s virginal white, and I lose my mind. I reach into each cup, freeing her breasts, and take them into my mouth one by one. When my tongue flicks her nipple, she moans and weaves her hands through my hair, pulling the strands.

I back her up against the nearest wall, wrapping her legs around my waist. Her hot center meets my hard cock. The feel of her is torturous ecstasy. I take her hands in mine and raise them over her head, pinning her to the wall. Our gazes lock in that moment like a slap to the face.

“Barclay?” she asks, her voice cracking.

“I know, Tessa. I know.” I bury my face in the crook of her neck and breath her in. If I can’t consume her with my body, at least I can store away her scent.

After a minute, I release her hands and adjust her bra and dress, fixing the results of my out of control passion. When I step away from the wall, I lower her legs to the ground, and a distant chill cools the fire in my veins.

“I better go,” she says, eyes looking at anything but me.

After smoothing her blond hair and straightening her dress, she’s gone, likely heading back to the party and starry-eyed Mark. I slump against the pool table, arms spread wide on the edge and head hanging low.

I hear someone enter the room and immediately hope it’s her returning to me.

“Tessa?” I call out as I turn around, but it’s my mother standing just inside the door. She’s looking at me with sadness etched across her face. It’s an expression I’ve seen countless times over the years, especially when I’m hurting and need her help or comfort. This time, neither is possible.

“Oh, Barclay,” she says, walking toward me, taking me in her arms. “Tessa’s the young woman your sister told me about.”

She releases me from her arms and pulls back to look up into my eyes. It’s strange how blurry she appears at this moment.

“Yes, she’s the one.” There’s no use hiding anything from her. A mother always knows.

“Believe it or not, I understand all too well what you’re going through. As you know, your father and I fell madly in love when I came to work for him, but it was a different time in the corporate world. Today, the rules are less forgiving.”

“I fell for her before she was hired. Hell, I was the last one to know she had gotten the job, but the no-fraternization rules are clear. We can’t be together, and I’m the company’s leader. One mess up from me and everyone pays.”

“I have an idea.” I see the wheels turning in her smiling blue eyes. “Don’t give up just yet, son.”