Leasing Love: A #GeekLove Contemporary Ménage Romance (Your Ad Here Book 2) (8 page)

He liked the sound of that and itched to share the news with Chloe. “I’ll make sure you get a copy of everything. Do you want the standard sales pitch to go with it?”

“I’d lo—appreciate that.” She sat rigid in her seat, gaze flitting everywhere but at him.

He spent the next little bit running through the basics of the product. Samples. What she could expect from the partnership. Each time innuendo slipped out, she clenched her jaw. So much for the fun they had the other day. “I can’t do this.” He let his dry-erase marker clatter into the dust tray. “Not if it’s going to be awkward.”

“What else should it be?” Liz asked.

A chance to figure out the possibilities three people had. Fuck. He was doing a poor job controlling himself today. “We all had fun Wednesday night, even before the sex. Didn’t we?”

“Yes.” Her response was so quiet, he wasn’t sure he heard it right.

“We’re all still those people who made the funny voices.”

She met his gaze again. “True.”

“Problem solved then.” Not that he’d be giving into the desire to ask to work with her. “Can I answer any other questions for you?”

She worked her jaw up and down, and then shook her head. “Let me take this to the boss, and we’ll be in touch.”

He escorted her to the lobby, neither speaking much in the elevator. They exchanged polite
goodbyes
, and she turned away.

“Liz.” He fished a business card out of his wallet and snagged a pen from the front desk. He scribbled his and Chloe’s personal cell phone numbers on the back of the card. “We’ll do more
not-awkward
stuff.”

She smiled and tucked the card into her purse, before vanishing through the front doors.

Speaking of Chloe… Jordan had three minutes until his next meeting. Not enough time, but he’d make it work. He wanted to share the distracting, taunting images of her kissing Liz.

He strode toward Chloe’s office as quickly as he could without sprinting. When he reached the room she was gathering a stack of papers from her desk and standing. She’d pulled her hair into twin braids, which gave her a deceptively innocent look.

She furrowed her brow when she saw him. “I have to be somewhere.” Apology filled her words.

“Same place as me.” He kicked the door shut and closed the distance between them. “You have two minutes, and if anyone cares we’re late, they can go fuck themselves.”

“Okay?” she said with an uncertain laugh.

He took her bundle and set it back on her desk. Before she could say anything else, he grabbed her pigtail braids, dipped his head, and kissed her hard. The whimper that escaped her throat drilled into his thoughts, and he nudged her back onto the desk. Her breathing was jagged when they broke apart.

“I don’t want to lose track of this peace we found in L.A.” His voice was gravelly. He moved one hand to her hip and gripped tight. “Whatever we need to talk through.” He nipped her bottom lip. “Whatever it takes to work this out.” He pushed up the bottom of her shirt.

She dug her fingers into his chest. “One minute.”

“You and your numbers.” He glided a finger under her waistband, toward her navel. “We’d fall apart without you to keep track.”

She squirmed against him. “Did you lock the door?”

“No.” Why did she want him to think? He unbuttoned her jeans.

She bit her bottom lip when he slid under her panties. “What if someone walks in?”

“They can watch.” His cock dug into his zipper, and the pain mixed with her reminder that timing and location were less than ideal. The flush on her cheeks and the rise and fall of her chest overrode his common sense.

“You’re wicked.” Her teasing words faded in a gasp when he dipped between her legs.

“You realize the whole office knows we’re fucking.”

She gyrated her hips against his touch. He found her swollen button with ease and stroked her clit.

“You’re so wet.” He kissed her again, devouring her mouth.

“Not until you got here.”

He stroked faster, pace matching her moans. One of his favorite sounds. She was holding back, trying to keep quiet, but it tempted him. He wished they had time for more. But watching her get off. The way her face scrunched up. Her nails digging into his arms. The gasp and hold of her breath before climax spilled through her, making her shudder away from his touch. It was a nice image to burn in his mind and hold until this evening.

“Where’d that come from?” She leaned her head against his chest.

“You inspired me.”

Her giggle was light and airy. “I won’t argue with that. Minus three minutes.”

He tugged her braids to lean her head back and look her in the eye. “Tonight, after work, we’ll do the forming-of-the-words thing. I’ll pick up sandwiches. We’ll talk and we’ll screw around.”

“Tempting. Two naked, dirty minds on display for each other to see? Pull an all-nighter plus a little smut, like the old days?”

“You’ve got such a way with words.”

“Damn straight, I do.” She smiled, nudged him back, and did up her jeans. “Don’t be late tonight.”

He kissed her again. “Cross my heart.”

Chloe’s face was hot, and she was pretty sure one of her braids had come loose. She made her way into the conference room with Jordan, thoughts on anything but the PAX planning meeting. Someone teased them about being late, a couple of people exchanged raised-eyebrow looks, and then everyone turned back to the itinerary.

Which was fine with her. She was only here because they wanted department heads. Her marketing team already had the copy written for this project, and the demo was the same they shared at E3, so her action-item list was small. This was a rare moment to catch her breath, and try not to lose it again by falling into what happened in her office.

She and Jordan had never done anything like that before. Before the other morning with Liz, the most risqué not-at-home sex they ever had was in a hotel room. It wasn’t all on Jordan. It took Chloe some time to realize she wanted more. And he got it. She wished it didn’t take months of snipping at each other, to the point of almost falling apart, but at least they were finding common ground.

A thought she couldn’t quite grasp nagged in the back of her mind. The harder she reached for it, the further it slid, until it evaporated.

“I’m going to say what everyone else is thinking.” Dave’s brash voice drew Chloe’s attention. “The whole
kinkier than thou
thing is for shock value. No one wants to see the tentacle-porn innuendo in our teasers.”

Chloe rolled her eyes. She expected this. Dave raised questions like this every time. It was fair. Not everyone liked the joke, and he preferred his
half-naked
a bit more traditional. She hoped he’d let the topic drop if she made a concession. He saved them with the demo yesterday and didn’t deserve grief in return. “All right. We’ll cut the sexy Cthulhu joke. Not everyone’s up for novelty-sized.” When she started here, being so vocal about anything sexual would have turned her beet red. Her reputation required her to be shamelessly vocal, though. “We’ll change it to alien probes instead. Add in a little seventies porn music.”

“Why do you keep subjecting us to your fucked-up fantasies? Not getting enough at home?” Of course. Not only didn’t he drop it, he also made it personal. Maybe he wasn’t as cool with taking over the panel as he said.

She spun a mile-long list of possible retorts through her thoughts, to figure out which had the highest
laugh it off and move on
probability.

Jordan spoke before she could. “She wasn’t complaining ten minutes ago.”

The room erupted in a series of
nice one, bro
and
dude, no way.
Chloe’s cheeks cranked back to flaming hot, for different reasons this time. Off-color jokes didn’t bother her, but these people didn’t get to know her and Jordan’s private life. She forced a smile past the scalding heat on her face. “Fine. You and your repressed world views can have Catholic school-girl skirts,” she told Dave. She glanced at her phone, pretending it buzzed. “I have to take this. You boys keep fighting the good fight.”

“Don’t be like that.” Dave’s tone softened. “We’re fucking with you. That’s all.”

“Enough.” Again, Jordan cut her off before she could reply. Was he intentionally shutting her down, or was he looking out for her?

“Don’t worry.” She smirked at Dave. “No hard feelings. But your girlfriend is on the phone asking if I’ve got what you don’t.” She shouldn’t have said that, but taking it back would mean losing face, especially amid the chorus of
ooh, burn.

Dave clenched his jaw, and she whirled away. She strode from the room with her head held high, despite the frustration clawing at her chest. Moments later, she sat at her desk with her fingers poised over the keyboard, determined to get work done with her newly discovered free time.

Her mind wouldn’t be redirected, though. What was wrong with her today? An exchange like that wasn’t uncommon. Dave had a point—it was harmless teasing. A variation on the same conversation she had with the rest of the group at least once a week for the past decade. This time, she got emotional and wrecked the fun. She should have laughed it off, redirected things to jokes that didn’t attack anyone, and then moved on. A nagging tick in the back of her thoughts wanted to blame Jordan. For bringing
them
into it. For not looking bothered.

Despite her efforts to shrug everything off in favor of checking things off her to-do list, the event replayed in her head, while she fluctuated between wishing she hadn’t let them win and wondering why it bothered her in the first place.

Someone knocked, and she looked up, grateful for the chance to step outside of her own skull. Her ambivalence surged when she saw Jordan in the doorway.

“We needed you in there.” He entered the room and closed the door.

The rush from the last time he did that, less than an hour ago, flooded her. She shoved it aside. “You handled everything fine without me.”

“I’m talking about work.” He crossed his arms and leaned against the far wall. “You’re hung up on…?”

Chloe was going to approach this rationally. The way she should have, in the conference room. “
She wasn’t complaining ten minutes ago
,” she spat out in a false baritone. Damn it. That wasn’t what she meant to say. With the words out, it knocked loose an avalanche of thought she wasn’t able to access before. “Is there a reason you undermined me in front of half our managerial staff?”

“I was backing you up. It’s what we do. Part of the show we put on.”

Fuck.
He was right. When she started working here, recruited because they liked the way her fan-fiction about their characters didn’t hold back, it was the chance of a lifetime. She always believed her talent landed her the job, not her sister’s being best friends with the Chief Technology Officer Scott, and at the time having some kind of complicated relationship with the CEO, Zach. Now Rae and Zach were married. Chloe pushed hard, to prove she’d earned her title and that she belonged here—not only showcasing her skill, but never backing down, even when the jokes got too personal or embarrassing. Those were all her decisions.

“Do the masks we made for ourselves ever come off?” she asked.

“I’m starting to wonder.” Jordan’s irritation shifted to a sad scowl.

If so much of who they were was built on the show they put on for their colleagues, were they themselves with each other? Was the quickie earlier because impulse struck Jordan, or because it was expected? Did he invite Liz to join them in L.A. because he wanted it as much as Chloe, or to smooth things over?
God.
She was over-thinking things, and she couldn’t stop. Of course he was genuine with her.

Chloe’s desk phone rang, and she hovered her finger over the
Divert
button until she registered the name on the display. She hit
Speaker
instead. “Yeah.”

“Your other half in there?” Zach’s question was clipped.

Jordan straightened up, frown deepening. “I am.”

“My office. Now. I don’t care what else you have going on.” The line clicked dead.

“Any idea what that’s about?” she asked.

“Scott mentioned a crisis earlier. But not really.” Jordan closed the distance between them to kiss her on the cheek—how could such a simple gesture be so bittersweet—and moved back to the door. “We’ll figure this out. I promise.”

Chloe couldn’t let the questions distract her from work. She needed to get some work done today. She’d almost convinced herself she could get back her tasks, when another knock interrupted. Her sister entered the room and closed the door. Apparently it was going to be one of those days.

Though Rae controlled the company finances, she was technically an independent contractor, so it was rare for her to be in the office for more than a couple of hours at a time. What were the odds she wanted to grab lunch and catch up? “I need to talk to you.” She sat without waiting for an invitation.

“You and everyone else in the fucking building.” Chloe rubbed her face. “Sorry. Long day.”

Rae gritted her teeth. “It’s about to get longer.”

*

Zach stood when Jordan entered his office, crossed the room, and closed the door behind Jordan. “Have a seat.”

“What’s up?” Jordan didn’t have a problem interacting with the company executives. Hell, Zach was almost family. The atmosphere in the room set him on edge, though, for reasons he couldn’t place.

“You’re familiar with the phrase
no such thing as bad publicity
?” The bite in Zach’s words, the fact that he still stood, and the almost oppressive tension in the air told Jordan he needed to take this seriously.

Unfortunately, it also pushed every button of irritation he’d tried to back-burner over the last few days. “You mean our unwritten company mission statement? Sounds familiar.”

“It’s bullshit.” Zach leaned against Jordan’s side of the desk, putting only a few feet between them. Without looking, he reached back and grabbed a few sheets of paper from where they lay on the keyboard. He handed them to Jordan. “Assault charges? Are you fucking kidding me?”

Jesus.
Of course that was still hanging over him. “I didn’t do anything.”

“Read it.”

Jordan resisted the urge to ask who the hell printed out a blog post to read it, and scanned the article by Stew Knapfer. He passed over the wordy filler and honed in on the highlights, trying to ignore the photos of Stew’s bruise-covered face up top.

Despite legal counsel’s attempts to intimidate me…

…Can’t keep quiet anymore…

…was assaulted by a member of Rinslet Enterprises senior management…

…won’t be silenced, no matter the empty threats
.

Jordan tossed the papers back on the desk with a scowl. “It’s not true.”

“You know what
is
true? You were arrested outside our hall at E3, in full view of half the attendees. You were all but hauled off in handcuffs.”

“But the charges were dropped. Because I didn’t fucking do anything.” Jordan was starting to feel like a broken record. He realized the protests sounded childish, as if he was throwing a tantrum. He didn’t have any other defense. This was the truth.

“And if we issue a statement saying exactly that, to an internet full of people insisting this time we went too far and someone at Rinslet needs to grow up and be accountable, how well do you think that goes over?”

Jordan sank into his seat. “Not well.”

“I’m sorry.” Zach finally sat in his chair. “I don’t have to ask if you recognize how this looks. You didn’t do it, but—”

“No one’s going to buy that, while he’s pointing a finger and has photos to back up the claim.” Frustration swelled inside Jordan. “So I’ll issue a generic apology, distance myself from the company, and lie low for a while.”

“We taught the two of you too well. It doesn’t work that way this time. Verbal
Rinslet isn’t responsible for the actions of
isn’t going to cut it.”

“No.”

Zach sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t have another option. The media play here is to let you go.”

“Fire me?” Jordan almost choked on the words. “How about, instead, the company stands by me, because—”

“You didn’t do anything. I get it. I’m not saying otherwise. Who do you think
they
believe? The asshole who always pulls obnoxious stunts for the cameras, or the poor blogger everyone knows you can’t stand, who’s got photos of a battered face and is spinning stories about legal threats?”

“I thought we were a software company, not a public-relations machine.” Jordan’s sarcasm was leaking back in. Did it matter at this point? They’d made up their mind. He could fight, but they had the lawyers.

“You know better than that. You said it yourself at the start of the conversation. We are our public image. Most companies are.”

Jordan let rage spill in, preferring it over the self-pity trying to claw its way out. “I get it. And it’s not like anyone but you and I will ever hear I’m making this my choice, because you’ve got an image to protect. But at the risk of sounding cliché, you can’t fire me; I quit. I’ll clear out my office.”

“You won’t.” The emotion was gone from Zach’s voice. “I’m not cold enough to have Security escort you to your car, but Chloe will clean out your desk. Your department will be transitioned under her until we make other arrangements. Rae’s talking to her right now.”

“Must be nice to know people on the inside.” Jordan was having trouble thinking past the red clouding his thoughts.

“I didn’t want to do things this way.”

“Yeah. Sucks for you. No, wait. It doesn’t.” He kicked back from his chair and summoned what little restraint he had left, to paste on a blank mask before he opened the office door. The screaming rage echoing in his thoughts wouldn’t stop, but he wouldn’t let it show on his face.