Not that it would happen often. But sometimes. Sighing, he moved to the office closet and removed the dress he had brought for her that evening. He laid it across the chair as he moved to her once again.

“Wake up, baby,” he whispered as he lifted her into his arms and headed for the shower on the other side of his office. “Come on. Time to plan the rest of our lives.”

She opened her eyes, drowsy, seductive and her lips quirking into a temptress’s smile.

“Rest of our lives, huh?” She looped her arms lazily around his shoulders, staring up at him, loving him. He could feel her love, the warmth that spread over him when he watched her.

“The rest of our lives.” He put her down in the bathroom, staring down at her. “I love you, Terrie. You have to know that by now.”

Her smile lit up his soul. “I love you, Jesse. But this sharing thing.” She rubbed hesitantly at her ear. “Let’s keep this to a minimum,” she suggested softly. “I really prefer you.”

He chuckled, wrapping his arms around her, wishing he had the energy to throw her to the floor and f**k her again. Just for the sheer pleasure of it.

“Definitely a minimum,” he promised as he drew back from her, staring down at her, adoring her. “Just when you need it, baby. I promise, just when you need it.”

Epilogue

“Hi Jaded, how’s tricks?” The words popped up on the computer screen, drawing an amused smile to Tally’s lips.

“Slow, Wicked. Very slow,” she typed back, snorting at the understatement.

The online life she led was the complete opposite of the real life she escaped each evening that she had the chance. The same men, the same parties, the same crap. She had grown bored with the endless round months ago. Why she had grown bored she had yet to figure out.

“Your boss still doing his own files?” It was a running joke in the online chat rooms she inhabited. She had told the story the first day it had occurred. Everyone had seemed awed by her accomplishment. She had personally hoped for at least a good argument out of Jesse Wyman at the time. She hadn’t expected him to actually do his own f**king files.

“Hell if I know,” she finally typed in. “I think he fired me today.”

Repositioning, firing, it was the same thing. She liked working with Wyman. It wasn’t exactly challenging but it left her plenty of time for shopping.

“Fired?” The words popped back. “He wouldn’t dare fire you.”

She laughed to herself. There were days Wyman had wanted to kill her, but he had resisted the urge with more self-control than she had given him credit for. Of course, the wedding Terrie was planning was keeping him pretty tired. That or her afternoon visits to his office.

“He says it’s repositioning. He sent me to hell, Wicked.” She sighed at the thought.

The merger between Conover’s and Delacourte’s had been more than a surprise last month. Even bigger was the surprise that she would now be the personal assistant for Lucian Conover.

“Repositioning?” The short question was so typical of Wicked. She could almost feel his impatience. “In Hell?”

“In Hell,” she sighed. “My new boss is Lucifer. This is not going to be fun. There goes all my playtime. (pout)” She typed in the expression even as she did so huffily. Lucian Conover was not her idea of the perfect boss. “Let’s hope he’s at least hiding a sense of humor under that scowl he wears. I bet he doesn’t even know the difference between a ménage and margarita. Who will I tell all my dirty jokes to?”

* * * * *

Lucian scowled. Son of a bitch. Lucifer, was he? Didn’t know a ménage from a margarita? He bit off a series of volatile curses as he jumped up from the computer and paced the den furiously. Smart-mouthed, viperous little termagant. He could show her a f**king ménage she would still remember into her next life if she kept this shit up. She had no sense of decorum and had shown him zero respect each time he showed up at Jesse’s office.

She stung him with that viperous tongue of hers, smirked every chance she had and showed in a hundred different ways that she expected him to grovel at the perfection of her tiny feet. Son of a bitch. For a taste of that sweet little body he just might do it, too, and that was what really rankled.

“You still breathing?” Her tart question came over the instant message with a soft ring.

“Yeah, just wondering what the connection was between the ménage and the margarita,” he typed in, damning himself a thousand different ways. He was insane to have demanded her as his personal assistant. He had lost his ever lovin’ mind.

“No connection.” He paused at her answer, frowning. Jaded always had a reason for damned near everything she said. Unless she was unhappy. Unless she was lonely. He had learned that over the past year. Had made it his business to learn everything he could about her.

“You okay, Jaded?” He really shouldn’t care, but he did.

“Oh yes, I’m fine.” Her words rang hollow, even through the impersonal communication box. “Maybe I’ll go shopping tomorrow. I hear there’s a sale on shoes…”

“Uh oh. Poor cows, sacrificing their lives to support your addiction.” He shook his head, yet still he worried. She wasn’t acting normal.

“Cows, alligators, whatever.” Nope, that wasn’t his Jaded.

“Hey babe, you can talk to me, you know.” He needed her to.

There was a long silence.

“She’s my friend.” The words finally came through with a sense of sadness. “I can’t believe she has such horrid taste in men.”

“Yeah?” He didn’t even pretend to understand that one.

“I love her like a sister.” She had to be talking about Terrie.

He waited to see what else she said.

“I can’t believe she actually f**ked Lucifer! Was she insane? Has she lost her mind? The man is an outcast. He has no style. No class, and I doubt he has a c**k over five inches long. He probably only needs a finger or two to jack off with.”

He sat back slowly in his chair. His cock, all five inches and several more, pulsed in outrage. His eyes narrowed.

“The man scowls. He sneers. Stomps around like a bull in a china shop. He is such a bore. Geez. I need a new job.”

His fists clenched, his teeth ground together as he saw red. The viperous little witch. A bull in a china shop? Five-inch cock? Five-inch cock?? Ohh, he would show her a hell of a lot f**king more than five inches. Damn her. The woman had a bite that would do a rabid dog proud.