CHAPTER EIGHT
Locke
I was in a bad mood the second I woke up the next morning.
How in the name of God had I thought that fucking my company’s newest acquisition on the first day I brought her in was a good idea?
Part of me rued signing her. But there was nothing we could do about that. The contracts were signed, sealed, delivered. Would not be broken without death or major penalty. And she had, like Laura said, the potential to make us a gold mine.
But she was just too damn tempting.
Which wasn’t her fault. Another reason I wouldn’t break our agreement.
I prided myself on keeping a level head and keeping sexual impulses in check. But the truth had been glaringly obvious to me as I skulked out of Emma’s new apartment that night.
I couldn’t control myself around her.
Do it anyway.
As much as she played with me, pretending she could give a shit about me. Pretending she was too good for me and hated my pretty-boy tastes.
Even then, she’d wanted me to fuck her. She’d been open and ready, begging for me.
And I would have. The act had driven me wild, made me wonder what I could do to gain her approval. She was so fucking inviting, so tantalizing. I could have easily cast everything I’d stood for away and happily sank into her.
But that would only last one night, and it would have complicated everything that came after a thousand times more. At best, it would make everything sticky, but at worst, UnCaged could be slapped with a lawsuit from which we could never recover. I couldn’t jeopardize UnCaged and everything I’d worked for in that way.
As I laid in bed that night, thinking of the way her body had felt against mine, I knew what I had to do.
I had to keep as much distance as possible.
With that in mind, I decided to put in an extra workout because I had more stress than usual to work through. But at seven on the dot, as I was finishing my last round of squats, going for four-twenty this time, I got a text from Laura. Where are you?
I picked the phone up off my weight bench and typed. You can handle it without me, right?
Two seconds later. Is this a joke?
She had every reason to be surprised. I was the world’s worst micromanager. I’d never missed a single ad shoot. I had to approve all social media, all press releases, all email communications, not because I didn’t trust my employees, but because I’d worked hard to build this empire and didn’t want anything to bring it down. So, me not showing up for the first day of shooting one of our biggest ad campaigns ever at the Daytona International Speedway?
It was a big deal.
I sat on the weight bench, stroking my stubbled jaw, thinking. I was a grown adult. I navigated stickier situations than this in the boardroom every day. I couldn’t possibly ignore Emma completely. I should be able to man up and handle this.
Ripping off my weightlifting gloves, I jabbed in, I’ll be there.
Then I hit the showers. As the warm water poured over my body, I thought of the way her skin had tasted. The way her breasts had responded when I put my mouth on them. How she’d arched her back to me, so wet and ready.
Emma, in the flesh, had been a thousand times better than the fantasy.
Under the warm spray of water, I leaned my forehead against the tile wall. As my hand found my cock, I thought of the way she felt against me, that sweet pink tongue of hers trailing down my chest. I let the water massage all the tension away.
Wrapping my hand tighter, I started to stroke myself, closing my eyes, trying to imagine some nameless feminine shape hovering above me, her long, manicured fingers working up and down the shaft. I hadn’t masturbated in years, had seldom had the need to. But now, I couldn’t stop myself. And I couldn’t stop it when an image of Emma floated in, replacing the anonymous woman in my fantasy. I imagined her kneeling before me, looking up at me with those dark brown eyes, taking my cock into her mouth.
Within moments, it was over, all the pent-up frustration swirling down the drain.
Maybe that was all I needed… a good orgasm after going without for too long. Yeah. That had to be why I’d reacted so violently to Emma’s presence. I’d just needed to come.
But even as I raised my face to the warm spray of water, I knew that wasn’t true. She was still on my mind, and my cock was giving little interested pulses as I thought of her eyes, her smile, her cocky little attitude.
I couldn’t help but wonder if I was doomed.
Fuck yeah, I was. If I’d have to be in close quarters with Emma this season, there was no avoiding it. I imagined there’d be a lot more jacking off in my future.
As I drove downtown, it felt like I was heading for a funeral. My own. Sliding out of the Porsche, I hurried into the UnCaged Fitness trailer that had been parked outside the speedway. Checking my CageFree, I was only really a half-hour late. The second I went inside, Laura grabbed my arm.
“What is with you?” she said, her eyes nearly glaring through me.
“What do you mean? I got hung up.”
She jammed her hands on her hips. “So you said, but I don’t have to believe it. This is the most important day in UnCaged’s history, practically. The Locke Cage I know would’ve slept in the parking lot rather than be late for this.”
I stroked my chin. “Yeah, but I had a late night fetching our newest acquisition.”
She gave me a curious look. “She mentioned your dinner at Magnolia’s.” The way she said it made me wince. “I thought you only took women there when you wanted to get laid.”
“No,” I grouched, searching the trailer, hoping Emma hadn’t been in earshot of that. Truth was, I loved Charleston, and yes, I had taken quite a few women to Magnolia’s and ended up screwing them later. “I was craving their prawns.”
“Ri-ight.” Okay, she clearly didn’t buy it. “But I suppose your late night explains why both of you are wound up about as tight as eight-day clocks.”
“What do you—?”
Someone yelled, cutting off my words. I turned, listening closer. “If you come near me with that, I’m going to rip your balls off and shove them down your throat!”
I looked at Laura. “What the hell was that?”
“That,” she said with a smug smile, “is our newest acquisition.”
I barreled down a long narrow hallway to a small studio at the back of the trailer. Emma was standing there in a towel turban and a short terry robe that barely covered her upper thighs, breathing hard. Our stylist, Adlar, had backed her into a corner, and she was holding a hair dryer in front of her like a gun in defense.
He turned around, flustered, holding a pair of tweezers. “Herr Cage, but she must have shaping,” he explained in his thick German accent.
“I do not need shaping!” she said, planting her hands on her hips. “I’m shaped just fine, thank you!”
She could say that again. Adlar put his hands in front of him, begging. “Your eyebrows, liebling. Your eyebrows. They are like a black forest.”
She ran her fingers over her eyebrows and frowned. “They sure as hell are not! Who the hell even notices a damn thing like an eyebrow!” She wagged a finger at me. “You didn’t tell me I had to get all prettied up. This isn’t in the contract!”
It took every bit of my willpower not to laugh. “Actually,” I said, leaning against the sink, “it is. UnCaged Fitness may modify your appearance as necessary to achieve the best product.”
My eyes dropped to her wrist. Her empty wrist. She scowled, knowing exactly what I was thinking. “Left it at the apartment,” she muttered before I could say a word about it.
Laura jumped in. “That’s okay. We can get you another one for the shoot.”
“Ugh!” She turned her accusing eyes toward me. “You were serious when you said I had to wear it?”
I studied her, wondering if she was serious. “I’d make an exception if this was any other day, but unfortunately, yes, you do need to actually wear the CageFree in the advertisement for the CageFree.”
“Oh,” she answered, having the grace to look embarrassed.
I thought we’d won the battle, but no. That was only the first round.
Emma’s eyebrow — not anywhere near a forest — raised as she took in Adlar’s disappointed frown. “If I’m not pretty enough for you as is, you have permission to photoshop me then. Make me look like a fucking Kardashian for all I care. You’re not getting that thing…” she jabbed a finger at the tweezers, “anywhere near my face!”
I held out my hands to appease her. “All right, all right.” I motioned to Adlar to cut it with the tweezers. He set them down. Crisis averted. For that moment, at least, until her eyes swept over the next offender.
“And nail polish?” she said, slumping down in the hairdresser’s chair and looking at her sulky reflection in the three-way mirror. “Seriously? I’ve not worn nail polish my whole life. Plus, he wants to cut my hair. My hair is fine like it is.”
Laura took a small step closer. “But Miss James, you gave UnCaged creative freedom with this ad and approved the script.”
“Didn’t think I was selling my soul to the devil,” she snapped. “Why don’t you get some model to race her ass around the track instead, if that’s what you want?”
Laura rolled her eyes.
“Look,” I said, crouching behind her and studying her reflection in the mirror. God, she was sexy when she got riled up. “We’re not doing the full-on girly look, Emma. And we don’t want to make you a Kardashian. We want you to be you.”
“Sure doesn’t seem like it,” she pouted, lowering her chin to her chest.
Hell, this woman was tugging me toward her, even now. I wanted to pick up where we left off, delving my hands underneath that robe. Instead, I said, “Hey. Look at me.”
She did, through the mirror.
“No, not at my reflection,” I said, turning the chair toward me. “Look at me.”
She raised her chin from her chest, and her dark eyes met mine. That worry crinkle I’d seen on the balcony when she’d trembled in her fear of heights was back. I had the urge to reach out and smooth it down, to hold her to me like I’d done then.
“I won’t put you in anything that you don’t love. If you hate it, I’ll reshoot the whole thing. Trust us. Trust me. Okay?”
She stared at me for the longest moment, and in those seconds, I saw all the fear she worked so hard to hide rise to the surface. She suppressed it quickly, so quickly I would have missed it had I not been looking at her so closely. Finally, she nodded, shifting in her seat, but I could tell she was still doubtful.
Adlar moved in carefully, bracing for resistance, of which she gave him none. Instead, she took her cell phone — I noticed she hadn’t forgotten that — and started thumbing over it like she’d owned one all her life as Adlar worked. He removed the towel from her head, revealing wet hair, and she closed her eyes as he started to brush it out. I stood up, because I needed to get away from her before I pulled her to me, opening that slinky robe and exploring what was underneath.
When I turned back to Laura, she was eyeing me. I had to look away, the guilt had to be everywhere on my face. What I’d done with Emma last night? What I wanted to do to her right now? It was so heavy in my mind that I thought satellites orbiting the Earth were probably getting the message.
Clearing my throat, I squeezed past her, then went to the lounge area to cool down and try to get my shit together.
An hour later, Adlar appeared in the doorway, rolling up the cord on his hair dryer. “If you want me to take on those eyebrows, Herr Cage, I am more than willing.”
I waved him away. “It’s fine. Is she…?”
He nodded. “She is done.” He turned and motioned her out.
I froze as my eyes fell on her. My cock went from flaccid to hard in zero point two seconds. All it took was her walking out, a small, pleased smile on her face. Her hair fell in soft waves around a face that was still all her, just smoother and more defined. She looked sun-kissed, dewy and glowing. And she was smiling, the hint of pink on her lips catching the light.
She touched her hair as I watched her, stunned. “Is it okay?”
I nodded. I was about to say how gorgeous she was when Laura beat me to it. “Oh, honey, you look spectacular!”
I just nodded dumbly. “Yes. Very nice,” I mumbled.
She brought her fingers to the corner of one eye, and I realized there were tears there. So there was a feminine side underneath all that grit, after all.
“It’s all right, isn’t it?” Laura asked, worried.
“Oh. Yes. I just never really felt pretty before.” She gave a soft, embarrassed little laugh.
“Don’t cry, liebling. I show you how to do this yourself,” Adlar said to her, touching up her makeup. She smiled gratefully at him. This soft side of her made her even more attractive.
Laura cleared her throat. “We have your uniform. Let’s get you in it, because we need you to be on the oval in fifteen minutes.”
***
The heat was stifling out on the oval, so it didn’t allow me any breathing room.
Emma didn’t give us any more trouble after the makeover. She seemed happy with her uniform and thrilled with the mock-ups of her race car, a black Fusion with the yellow and black UnCaged logo taking center stage on the hood.
We had the oval to ourselves for two hours, and as I watched her race round and round, achieving speeds of over one hundred and eighty miles per hour, I couldn’t help but replay the previous night in my head. How this fierce powerhouse had leaned into me, afraid of heights. How her breasts had felt when I’d molded them with my hands. How she’d cried out as I licked and sucked on her sweet flesh.
I’d have done anything to feel that again.
Pushing my hands through my hair, I resigned myself to another date with my cock in the shower later that night.
The cameras rolled as her car came skidding into pit road. Before the car had even completely come to a stop, she’d dropped the window net, slid out of the window, tore off her helmet, and said to the camera in her low, confident voice, “Drive like a girl. I dare ya.”
The crew began to applaud, something that had never happened at our previous shoots.
Laura pumped her fist. “That was good,” she said to me, jostling my elbow a little. “Like I said, she’s a natural.”
I couldn’t say what I wanted to say, or else I would’ve given myself away. That wasn’t just good. It was phenomenal. Glorious. I couldn’t have been more pleased even as my body was in agony.
When we were wrapping up, I pulled out my phone as a distraction and headed away from the set as I heard someone call, “Mr. Cage!”
I turned around. Emma was running toward me, holding her helmet under her arm and smiling.
And I’d nearly made a clean getaway.
She stopped just inches from me, her cheeks flushed. She had the same flush on her cheeks when I’d stripped her nearly naked. Close up, in the dying light of day, I could see faint brown freckles over the bridge of her nose. She tucked her hair behind her ear. “I just wanted to thank you, boss.”
“Hey. Stop the boss shit,” I said, digging my hands into my pockets.
“Sorry.” The blush deepened. “You were right. It’s going to be a great ad.”
“Not because of me,” I said. “Because of you.”
Everything was because of her. The best ad we’d ever done. This raging hard-on that was making me have to shift my stance constantly to avoid detection. This maddening urge to hold her, kiss her, take her to my place and make love to her all night long.
I wanted those nipples in my mouth again. I wanted them so bad my salivary glands were working overtime, and I could taste the salty firmness of them on my tongue.
She looked down at the ground and let out a sigh. I knew what was coming. “About last—”
I forced myself to give her a brotherly clap on the arm, which stopped her dead. “Good job. Be on the track tomorrow morning for practice. Laura should have given you your schedule.”
And I turned and walked away.