KYLE: A Mafia Romance (The Callahans Book 4) (63 page)

Jason

I didn’t know what I was doing there. When the guy suggested a downtown bar for our meeting, I’d told him I preferred somewhere a little less crowded. An expensive restaurant, maybe. But he insisted. Said the hot wings were worth the lack of ambiance.

I hadn’t been to a honkytonk type of bar since I was in college. And then it had been California’s version of a honkytonk. I almost laughed as I walked through the door, feeling as though I’d just stepped onto the set of some bad eighties western. But he was right about the hot wings.

I hadn’t expected the headhunters to find a viable candidate to replace Frank so quickly, but this guy had all the right recommendations, the right schooling, and a pretty impressive work history. I would have been a fool to pass him over, but he was only in town for one night.

It was now or never.

Normally, I would let the head of human resources handle the initial interview. But this was too important. And I wasn’t completely satisfied that the remaining department heads were trustworthy. So I wanted to do this myself.

“I would think this job would be very similar to what you did at Westin and Wales,” I said, as a jean clad waitress set a couple of beers and more hot wings on our table.

The guy, Silas Peters, was busy staring at the waitress, as she smiled down at him. He didn’t answer me until she’d left, and he was done watching her walk away.

“I’d oversee the entire department?”

“You would.”

“How much discretion would I have?”

I shrugged. “I suppose it depends on what you mean by discretion.”

“Would I be able to implement my own policies? Run the department the way I want to run it?”

“Your only oversight would be me and my assistant, Shelly.”

“And you would let me do things my way?”

“I would give you as much rope as you need. But you’ll have to understand that we were recently burned by your predecessor. So I’m not entirely comfortable with giving you complete free rein.”

“Would I have to pass things by you before I presented them to the department members?”

I picked up my beer, taking a sip to give myself a moment to think that over. On the one hand, I didn’t want to be a mother hen, constantly correcting him over little details. I wasn’t that kind of administrator. However, I also didn’t want to allow him to do as he pleased and end up right back where I started. I needed some sort of medium, but I wasn’t sure how to achieve that.

“Not everything,” I finally said. “But I want to be kept informed.”

The guy sat back, chomping on a hot wing, his fingers sticky with the spicy sauce.

“Let me tell you what I think,” he said, drawing his words out with slow deliberation. “You have a department that was allowed to run wild for far too long, and now you want to corral them. But you don’t want to open yourself up to more trouble.”

I nodded. “That’s exactly it.”

“Then you’re talking to the wrong fella. What you need is someone who’s willing to let you dictate his every move. What you’d get with me is someone who knows how to get a job done, but only if given free range.”

I was disappointed, but I had to agree. The more he talked, the more I realized that what I wanted and what I’d described to the headhunters were two different things.

Time to go back to the drawing board.

I picked up my beer again and tried to pretend this guy wasn’t annoying with the sticky hot wings. Was I really that spoiled by my privileged upbringing that I couldn’t feel comfortable in this sort of environment? I’d never thought of myself that way, but…

And then I saw her, smiling wearily at a customer as she made her way through the crowded tables. I wasn’t sure it was her at first, but that gorgeous head of hair, still tied back in the braid she’d been wearing at the office, was unmistakable. But then my heart sank. Again.

There was some guy waiting for her at the bar. He was tall, dark skinned. About her age. And the smile on his face as he watched her walk toward him suggested a relationship that went much deeper than just a customer-waitress sort of thing.

They talked for a minute and he handed her something. I thought—hoped—it was a tip or something. But as she tried to walk away, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

I remembered the call from security this morning, the guy who had tried quite valiantly to get through the gate to rescue her last night. Was this that guy? Was he her boyfriend? But why did she spend the night with me? Why did she come quite willingly into my arms this afternoon?

And then a thought that hadn’t even crossed my mind until this second sank in.

I was her boss. What other choice did she have? Obviously, she needed her job at my company. Maybe she thought that if she turned me down, she’d get fired. Wasn’t that what she had expected today? Isn’t that basically what she’d said to me?

Fuck me!

“It was nice meeting you,” I muttered to Mr. Peters, as I stood and strutted toward the doors.

I had to walk past her to get out. She grabbed my sleeve as I passed her, but I kept going, pretending she wasn’t even there. It wasn’t really her fault. It was mine. I was stupid not to see it sooner. The one time I found a girl I’d really like to get to know, and I’ve somehow pressured her into something she doesn’t want. What a fool I was!

The cool evening air hit me in the face like a bucket of ice water poured over my head. I brushed past a couple trying to get inside and headed to the parking lot at the back of the building. I heard someone calling from behind me, but I just kept going.

“Jason, please wait!”

I had my car door open when she grabbed my arm. She had a better hold on it this time, actually yanking it away from the door.

“Please…”

“Is that your boyfriend?”

“What? No!”

“You don’t have to lie to me, Joanne. It’s not your fault.”

“He’s not. He’s just a friend.”

“That didn’t look friendly.”

She blushed, her eyes moving away from mine. “I think he might have a crush on me. But it’s one sided.”

“Yeah?”

I let my eyes fall slowly over her face, the blush that seemed to be a constant thing with her. I wanted to touch her. It was an urge that never seemed to leave me whenever she was near. I actually clasped my hands behind my back to keep from doing it, to keep from caressing that perfect, pink cheek.

“Last night when you…” I hesitated, not sure I wanted to give voice to what was on my mind. Her head came up, her eyes wide and sincere as they fell on mine. “You didn’t do that because you felt like you had to, did you?”

Surprise registered all through her expression, making those full lips part slightly, her eyes widened even more and then narrowed just the tinniest bit.

“Why would you think that?”

“I’m your boss and—”

“I don’t know what you think about me, but I would never prostitute myself for a job not matter how badly I need it.” She turned on her heel, marching back toward the front of the bar. “I’m not that desperate.”

Now it was my turn to follow her. I grabbed her arm and pulled her around, trapping her against the brick wall of the building so that she couldn’t escape again.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“It’s what you implied.”

“I’m sorry. I just wanted to know that the fact that I’m your boss didn’t play into anything between us?”

“The only thing that does is make this more complicated.”

“Yeah,” I sighed. “I suppose it does.”

“What are you even doing here? I didn’t think this would be your kind of place.”

“Interviewing a potential candidate.” I moved closer to her, aware that the resistance had left her. “Didn’t go well.”

“I’m sorry.”

I shrugged. “Things are starting to look up.”

“Yeah?”

That teasing light was back in her eyes, and that was when I knew she’d forgiven my idiocy. I brushed my nose against hers and went in for a kiss. She responded with the sweetest touch, threatening to take my breath away. What was it about her? I wasn’t sure I would ever figure it out, but I wanted to live in this moment for the rest of my life.

Her hands slid up under the back of my suit coat, the heat of them penetrating my shirt. All I could think about was how amazing it would be to take her back to my house and do the things to her I’d been imagining all day. But then she brushed her hand over my growing erection and I wasn’t sure driving across town was something I could do right then.

Jeans. Why did she have to be wearing jeans?

I touched her through her clothes, cupped her beautiful cunt the same way I’d done earlier, moving right back to that moment of need, to that intensity as though no time had passed. She groaned, the vibration of it dancing through my chest and grabbing me where it made the most impact. It wasn’t even a question of want. I needed her. I knew if I walked away in that moment, I would regret it for the rest of my life.

I tugged at the buttons holding her jeans up around her full hips, needing to get my hand inside, needing to feel the heat and moisture of her femininity. She groaned—even as she pulled back—and whispered something I didn’t quite catch.

And then we were in the backseat of my car, tearing at each other’s clothing like a couple of randy teenagers. Why did I always feel that way when she touched me? Like the responsibilities of adulthood were simply gone and replaced with something innocent. Pure. And then she was straddling my lap and I was inside of her and my whole world had shrunk to her: her moans, her touch, her kiss.

I let her take the lead, let her set the rhythm. And it was so incredibly hot. I hadn’t done anything this spontaneous since I was…hell, I don’t think I’d ever done anything quite like this. I wasn’t the typical teenager. I didn’t seduce girls in the backseat of my dad’s car. I planned it out. Had music playing, clean sheets on my bed. A bottle of wine chilling in a bucket when I was old enough to drink. This…it was as new as her touch.

Her ass in my hands, her lips on mine. I wanted it to last, and I wanted it to end all at the same time. I wanted to see her cum; I wanted to watch the pleasure rush through her. And I wanted to cum inside her, leave a little piece of me that no one could corrupt or take away. I wanted to mark her as mine, as primitive as that sounded.

And then I did, and it was one of the most intense orgasms I think I’d ever had. It seemed to go on forever, the sounds and sight of her orgasm only making it more intense.

That was the moment. That was the moment I wanted to live in for the rest of my life.

Joey

I walked into the office Friday morning and everyone was walking around as if they’d just come from a funeral. It should have dampened my mood, but it felt like nothing could knock me off the cloud I was floating on. I could still feel Jason’s hands on me—even after I went back inside to finish my shift, even after I went home and drank too much coffee to keep my eyes open while I baked. And the dreams I had…only reality was better.

I never thought I’d say that.

I grabbed another cup of coffee from the breakroom and made my way to my cubicle. I felt eyes on me, but I just assumed it was about the rumors that had been circulating the night before, so I didn’t think twice about it.

And then Lesley popped her head over the divider.

“Have you heard?”

“What’s the latest?” I asked, in too good of a mood for even Lesley’s brand of gossip to bother me.

“It’s not about work. Though I did hear that Mrs. Constantine had been called upstairs this morning.”

“Yeah? Do you think she’ll be promoted?”

“I don’t know. Could be worse. They could promote Jen.”

I bit back a groan. Jen was another supervisor. Thankfully, I don’t have run-ins with her often. She was Fredericks’ assistant, a glorified secretary who thought she was more important than that. She was known to have shouting matches with some of the accountants. No one wanted Jen to be promoted to the head of the department.

I took a slow sip of my coffee, as I watched the excitement dance over Lesley’s face.

“So what’s the latest? Why is everyone moping around?”

Before she could answer, Mrs. Constantine arrived at my cubicle.

“I need to speak to you, Ms. Forman.”

I set down my coffee and followed her down the hall. Now my cloud was beginning to falter.

There was a uniform cop standing in her office.

“Joanne Forman?” he asked.

I nodded, my ability to speak suddenly gone.

“If you could come with me, please.”

“Am I under arrest?”

He didn’t answer. He just grabbed my arm and marched me toward the elevators. I could feel everyone watching; I could already hear the whispers that would turn into something more the moment the elevator doors closed.

Oh, my God! Oh, my God! Oh, my God!

What the hell was I going to do now?