Leasing Love: A #GeekLove Contemporary Ménage Romance (Your Ad Here Book 2) (16 page)

She nudged his shoulder, and he dropped into the seat without resistance. He chuckled. “Pushy much?”

“Sometimes.” She knelt in front of him and glided her hands up his thighs. This wasn’t only about make-up sex. The intimacy was reassuring. She wanted to show him—literally and symbolically—that she was here for him as much as he was for her. She freed him from his boxer briefs, eliciting a low groan when she grasped his warm shaft.

Keeping her grip loose, she stroked at a slow pace, sometimes running her thumb over the swollen purple head.

“Fuck, Chi.” He spoke through clenched teeth, voice jagged.

When she trailed her tongue along his skin and licked away a drop of precum, he jerked in her hand. Each time he shifted closer or a grunt rumbled from his throat, arousal spilled through her. Getting him off turned her on in an entirely different but just as intense way as feeling him buried inside her. She took him in her mouth and slid down his length.

He tugged her head back, forcing her gaze to his. “I want to watch you.” Command filled his words. “See the desire in your eyes, while you suck my cock. Watch you squirm with need when I come.”

And she would. The tingles flooding her merged between her legs, begging for her to move her free hand lower and play with herself at the same time she pleasured him. That wasn’t what this was about, though.

She tightened her grip and increased her pace, bobbing her head in time with his cues. Despite his order, as he drew closer, he closed his eyes and tilted his head back. Jesus, she loved that sight. Jordan, so engrossed in pleasure he lost himself. She found and kept a steady rhythm, his growls rolling over her skin and tightening in her nipples like ghost kisses.

When she moved her other hand to his sac, he tensed, tightening his grip in her hair. Seconds later, he came, seed spilling in her mouth and hitting the back of her throat. She continued to suck and lick, slowing as he did, not pulling back until he stopped. She ran her tongue over his cock one last time, eliciting a final shudder, and stared back, wide-eyed and anything-but-innocent when he opened his eyes again.

He offered her a hand as he stood and pulled her to her feet. He kissed her hard and hungry, driving his tongue into her mouth to explore. How did she overlook this amazing intensity? She whimpered when he dragged a thumb over her nipple, his touch rough even through her clothing. What could she have lost, because she expected the perfect life to be hiccup free?

He moved his hand lower, flipping the button on her jeans and yanking down the zipper with a single harsh tug. She grabbed his wrist. “You don’t owe me.”

“Yes, I do.” He furrowed his brow as if her words didn’t make sense. “Give and take and give some more.”

“If you insist…” Any further retort faded into a long groan, when he slid his fingers between her legs and parted her folds. When he brushed her clit, a tremor traveled through her, making her legs wobble.

“I love how worked up you get, sucking me off.” He kissed along the edge of her ear, whispery words hot against her skin. He pulled back enough to tease, tracing a path along her slit but not touching the aching button again. “Watching you writhe, because you’re so wet, while you run your tongue over my cock.”

She couldn’t think enough to respond. Her head was light, swimming though tendrils of pleasure. She managed a nod.

He knotted his fingers in her hair and crushed his lips to hers. Never breaking the kiss, he zeroed in on her core. Rubbing her clit without pause and devouring her mouth.

Orgasm spilled through her, stealing her balance and her thoughts. His grip was the only thing holding her upright. He continued to stroke until she jerked from his touch. He moved his hand from her hair to her waist, steadying her, and locked his gaze on hers. “The conversation isn’t over.”

“I know.” She couldn’t manage more as she struggled to catch her breath.

He searched her face. “I’ll surrender almost everything for you, but not my sanity or sense of self.”

“I’d never ask you to.” She almost had, without realizing it, but now that she recognized it, she could work around it. “What about Liz?” she asked. Crap. Talk about a mood killer.

He didn’t look upset. Instead, something like regret or sadness flickered in his eyes. “I’m pretty sure she removed herself from the equation.”

“I didn’t mean that. I think I owe her a serious apology.”

“I can’t answer the what-about question. I’ll stand by you when you grovel, though.”

Chloe let out a small laugh. “You phrased it that way on purpose.”

“Maybe.” He kissed her nose.

So many
maybes.
Maybe they’d be all right. Maybe Jordan would struggle to find work. Maybe her own job would get a lot more miserable. She was okay with the uncertainty, as long as they were both still trying. And as they checked each doubt off the list, the nagging inside would fade a little more.

Liz leaned back in her chair and let the waiter take away her plate. She was at lunch with Mercy and Ian, catching up on work and using the excuse to hang out, since they hadn’t had much time for it the last couple of weeks. They waved the man away when he asked if they wanted dessert, and Ian handed over his credit card with the bill.

“Anything else on the work front?” Mercy asked.

Now or never
. Liz summoned the one topic she’d stayed away from the entire meal. She’d almost convinced herself she could bring it up without letting her frustration show. There was no more time to swallow her befuddled emotions. “I have something else.”

Mercy raised her brows.

“I’m hoping you can have someone else work the Rinslet contract, now that it’s almost through Legal.”

“Why?” Ian suddenly looked more interested in the conversation.

She couldn’t use the
too much work
excuse, because five minutes earlier, she asked for more tasks. “I don’t think I’m the right contact for this partnership. You want someone more… hands on.”

“You live less than five miles from their offices. No one on staff is more hands on than that.” Mercy studied her. “What aren’t you saying?”

Everything. Liz tried to be subtle about glancing at Ian. Why hadn’t she waited to have this conversation until it was just her and Mercy? And how much could she say, without delving into the details of her sex life? “Remember what I told you about L.A.?” she asked Mercy.

“The couple… Oh God. Liz. No.” Mercy pursed her lips.

Ian looked between them. “I hate it when you two do this. Couple of what? Fill me in.”

“Liz is talking about—”

“Don’t.” Liz tried to convey pleading as she looked at Mercy.

“Were they the Rinslet people?” Mercy asked. It sounded cold and clinical, but from where Mercy sat, it was exactly that.

Liz hadn’t told her more than that there was a fling. Once upon a time, she and Mercy would have shared that kind of information. Liz fiddled with her straw. “Might have been.”

“I have to tell him.” Mercy sounded apologetic. “This impacts business.”

“You don’t have to share details. I told you that in confidence. The only thing that matters here is I feel my working with Rinslet is a bad idea for the future of that relationship.” Liz tried to keep her tone even and professional, but a hint of petulance leaked in. She felt childish for getting emotionally involved in the first place, so it was appropriate.

Ian signed the credit-card receipt and handed it back to the waiter. “Fill in the blanks for me, or I’ll guess. No one wants that.”

“She hooked up with a couple in L.A. Apparently, the Rinslet poster kids.”

Heat flooded Liz’s cheeks. So much for secrets between friends.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Ian slapped the table hard enough the silverware rattled. “You’d potentially destroy a vendor contact because you had a threesome?”

At his tone, anger surged inside Liz. “I call bullshit. The two of you could have done a lot worse when you screwed around.”

Mercy turned away, and Ian growled. “That’s different,” he said.

“Really? How?” This wasn’t going to end well, but she needed to understand his logic.

“We love each other.” He made it sound as if the answer was obvious.

Liz’s irritation simmered, not only at the holes in his logic, but also at the implication she couldn’t possibly have the same thing here. The reminder she didn’t. “You didn’t know at the time. You were both being assholes, pretending you didn’t care about each other. You didn’t even tell anyone you were kind-of-pretend dating.”

“But it all worked out.” Ian sounded as if that made it fine.

“But what if it hadn’t? K.M. nearly dropped a multi-million-dollar contract because of it. This isn’t even in the same league. I’m just asking you to have someone else work with these guys.” She looked at Mercy. “Mel, back me up.”

Chatter from nearby diners filled the empty space between the three of them. Mercy finally said, “Ian’s right.”

“Of course he is.” Liz swallowed a rambling, almost incoherent thought about them being hypocrites. “Fine, then. I’ll handle this however you tell me to. You know best.” She pushed back her chair.

Mercy reached for her, but stopped before grabbing her hand. “Liz, it was a bad idea when I did it, and I’m lucky it worked out. For a lot reasons. You’re talking about a couple. It’s not the same thing. There’s no working things out or happy ending with all three of you together. From here forward, it’s always going to be awkward with them, regardless of the context.”

“At the risk of sounding childish—because apparently that’s how you see me—I’m done listening. The conversation is over. You win. I was wrong. Even though I didn’t walk into this hookup with any idea it would become a stumbling block, while the two of you did when you got together, we’ll do things your way. I need to go. I have real work to do.”

“I’ll ask someone else to work with Rinslet.” Mercy’s words held a sharp edge.

“Great.” Liz let the sarcasm leak into her retort. It wasn’t because Mercy yielded, but for the hoops Liz had to jump through to get there. “I’m glad we’re on the same page. Email me if you need me. I’m working from home the rest of the day.” She stalked to her car. With any luck, the thirty-minute drive down the canyon would help clear her head.

The view was pretty. It was cool enough in the higher altitudes that the landscape was still green. When she pulled into her parking garage, confusion lingered with her at the misplaced hurt over losing two people she barely knew, and the scalding hypocrisy of those she thought she knew better than anyone.

As she approached her condo and saw a familiar figure pacing outside the door, the chaos inside grew. She pasted on the most neutral expression she could manage. “How did you find my address?” She slid the key in the lock, not looking at Chloe.

“I… may have placed a couple of calls and used the images contract as an excuse.”

Wonderful. Liz should have had the
I’m not working with Rinslet anymore
conversation with Mercy a day earlier, minus Ian’s company and the painful details. “Do you want to come in?” Even when she was annoyed, Liz couldn’t hide the polite hostess inside.

“I can’t stay. I have a meeting at the top of the hour. I wanted to do this in person, partly because you’d probably ignore my texts—and you’d be right to—but it won’t take long.” Chloe drummed her fingers on her leg.

Liz pursed her lips and stared back, waiting. She didn’t trust herself to speak, had no idea what she was thinking, and was terrified about what might come out if she opened her mouth.

“Right, then.” Chloe’s laugh was nervous. “I’m sorry about last night. That’s not right—I’m sorry it seemed like we used you. That wasn’t our intent, and this doesn’t make it better, but even though we held some things back, we never faked the connection and closeness the three of us have. We don’t have to do the sex stuff anymore—I won’t mention it ever again if you’d prefer me not to—but I consider you a friend, and I don’t have as many of those as I could, and… I’m sorry. Have lunch with us this weekend like we planned. We’ll go somewhere public. No pressure.”

Liz didn’t have the headspace to deal with this now, especially with the flutter in her gut begging her to say
yes
. “I have to get some work done. I’m going to let you do the same,” she said.

“That’s fair.” Chloe stepped back, gaze downcast. Then she looked up again. “Wait. I can’t leave things at that. You wanted boundaries, let’s set them, or call this quits. Leaving things at
we’ll see
is part of the problem.”

It was true. If Liz knew the limit was
just friends
she could stop pretending she saw potential for more around every corner. She enjoyed their company, even without the intimacy. She wanted them in her life, and friendship wasn’t settling. “All right. First one is easy. No more sex.”

“I think that’s fair.” Chloe nodded.

“I’m not the only one who has hang-ups. You want something, too.”

“Yes and no. I don’t want you to feel like you’re limited because one or the other of us gone,” Chloe said. “Partly because Jordan will do what Jordan wants, like what happened the other day. But also because I want to be able to hang out with you. Just us. I don’t really have any girlfriends, and I know you have Mercy, but you’ve got room for me too, don’t you?”

It was such a simple request, it tugged at Liz’s heart. She could do this. She’d have to step way back until she found a new comfort zone, but it would be worth it. “I absolutely do. Especially if there are more early morning talks on the balcony in our future.”

Chloe grinned. “Deal. And I do have to get back to work, but call us. Please?”

“Absolutely.” Liz watched her walk down the hallway and vanish into the elevator.

Liz entered her condo and leaned against the door, to close it. That felt good. She could live with those kinds of terms. She made herself comfortable in front of her work laptop and logged in. For every project she tried to work on, her eyes glazed over before she figured out what she was looking at, and she ended up closing it moments later.

After going the motions several times, she had to admit she couldn’t focus. She opened a web browser. One of the headlines on her landing page caught her attention. She wasn’t going to read it. She’d go screw around on social media, dazed and not absorbing anything but the kitty pictures.

Her finger had other ideas, and clicked the headline “Digital Media Courts New Director of Art.”

She skipped the fluff and dove straight to the quote from DM’s Chief Technology Officer.

We understand there’s a lot of negative buzz directed at Jordan Iverson at the moment. It’s unfortunate to see a talent like his go to waste, when he’s come from a less-than-nurturing environment. Mentored the right way, someone like him could be polished from a rough piece of coal, to a sparkling diamond. We feel he’s a great fit for our organization and hope he reaches the same conclusion, in the interest of his career
.

Liz laughed at the condescension dripping from the words on screen. She might not be familiar with the company, but she’d bet a lot of money Jordan would be miserable at a place like that. The thought tickled something else. A memory from… She reached for it, and it flitted away before she could grab it.

This was important. What was it?
The artists who make money at this are merchandising. That takes start-up capital.
There it was. Not that she could invest in him—talk about conflict of interest. She knew someone who could, though. She tapped a nail on her cell phone, but hesitated. If she placed this call, she was overstepping her boundaries. Jordan might not want it. It might piss Chloe off. They didn’t have to accept the offer, though, and Liz didn’t want to give them false hope by telling them about it first. She’d also owe something in return—at least the time it took to hear Jonathan out.

She pulled Jonathan’s second business card from her purse and dialed.

* * * *

Chloe scowled at her phone and the quote from DM that Jordan sent her.
Arrogant assholes.
Of course they were going to be petty about this. The other three companies rescinded their offers by this morning, but DM held tight. Now it appeared it was only for the sake of an eight-year-old grudge. Who did that on a professional level?

She stepped from the elevator, glanced up long enough to make sure she wouldn’t run into anyone, then sent Jordan a quick reply.
Fuck them
.

His reply came quickly.
They’re not worth the lube
.

The conversation with Liz still taunted Chloe, and this article added to her stress, but his note drew a smile. She reached her office, and jumped when she realized someone was already there.

“Didn’t mean to scare you.” Scott had made himself comfortable in one of the seats across from her desk.

She closed the door, set her phone and purse down, and took a seat. “It’s all good. I didn’t mean to keep you waiting. Am I late?” She was five minutes early, but propriety insisted she say the appropriate lines.

“Nope. I finished up before I expected and thought I’d see if you were back from lunch yet.” Scott leaned back in his seat, one ankle over the other knee, looking as if nothing in the world could faze him. “I’m sorry about what happened with Jordan. I asked Zach to think a little longer before making his decision…” His implication was bullshit.

“Things would have gone down the same way.”

“Yeah, but I put up a good fight on Jordan’s behalf. He drew the short straw, and I wish it could have been different.”

The sentiment was kind, but it wouldn’t change anything. “It’s done, and he’s moving on. I didn’t get an agenda for this meeting, so I didn’t prepare.”

“I’m surprised you have time in your schedule to prepare for anything.”

“I don’t.” She gave him a quick smile, hoping to convey teasing. “But I have a brilliant administrative assistant.”

“And that’s what this meeting is about.” He pulled a folder from the briefcase next to his chair and held onto it. “Not your assistant, but your schedule.”