A Demonic Bundle (8 page)

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Authors: Lexi George Kathy Love,Angie Fox

BOOK: A Demonic Bundle
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Chapter Nine
“I
need you to take this up to Ms. Hall.”
Charlie looked up from tidying his workstation to see Eugene holding out a manila envelope. Since that first day, nearly two weeks ago, Charlie had gone up to Carrie Hall’s office at least six more times to deliver similar envelopes. Envelopes always without any return address and only with Carrie’s name and office number handwritten on the outside.
And they were always delivered when the
HOT!
offices were officially closed for the evening.
Charlie accepted the parcel.
“What is this anyway?” Charlie asked just as Eugene would have walked away.
His boss paused, but didn’t look back. “I don’t know. Just a letter that needs to be delivered, I suppose.”
Charlie frowned as Eugene disappeared back into his office. Eugene had been cool toward Charlie since their brief confrontation, if you could even really call it that, the morning Charlie had woken up to find Ava gone. Charlie hated to admit it, but he rather missed Eugene’s strange little pep talks. Even Innocuous Dave had been more standoffish. Charlie couldn’t say he missed his lengthy lectures, however.
Charlie flipped the envelope over and over in his hands, wondering what could be inside it.
We are far more than just a mailroom.
Charlie had thought about that comment many times over the past couple weeks. He still had no idea what Eugene meant, but he did find himself watching his coworkers more closely, both in the mailroom and in the
HOT!
offices.
And he always kept an eye out for Ava. But aside from thinking he saw her back in Finola’s glass office one time, he hadn’t caught a glimpse of her.
Charlie grabbed his coat and then headed for the elevator. As usual, Ashley, the night receptionist, manned
HOT!
’s lobby when he stepped out on the fifteenth floor.
“Hi, Ashley. Just bringing Carrie another package.”
Ashley smiled, and Charlie told himself he didn’t see the yellow aura that still appeared around the young receptionist every once in a while. In fact, Charlie told himself he didn’t see a lot of things up on the fifteenth floor. But over his couple weeks working up there, his vision problems seemed to be getting more pronounced.
He’d written most of the strange visual effects off to lack of sleep, which he’d struggled with since his one night with Ava. Or working long hours—he found being in the mailroom was actually preferable to kicking around his tiny apartment. And certainly the lighting and his overactive imagination weren’t helping. Hell, maybe he really did need to look into getting glasses. Anything was better than acknowledging that he was seeing very odd things up on the fifteenth floor.
This evening, when he reached Ms. Hall’s office, the door was ajar as if she was expecting him, and she sat behind her desk typing furiously on her laptop.
“Hello, Charlie.” She greeted him without pausing her work.
“Hello.”
He set the envelope on the edge of her desk and turned to leave, not wanting to interrupt her work.
“Don’t go,” Carrie said, still typing. “I want to talk to you. And could you close my door?”
Charlie frowned, confused by what she could possibly want to speak to him about, but did as she asked, then returned to her desk. Carrie was always friendly and made small talk when she wasn’t busy, but she’d never requested anything like this.
She continued to type for a few more seconds. Finally she hit enter, then closed her computer.
She looked up at him and smiled. “So tell me, Charlie, are you happy delivering mail all day?”
Charlie shook his head, unsure how to answer. “Um, I’m not totally unhappy.” Sort of true, he guessed.
She laughed. “That’s diplomatic. Diplomacy will certainly help you up here.”
Charlie wasn’t sure what to say.
“Eugene says you have a talent.”
“Really?” Again he couldn’t hide his confusion.
“Yes. He says you have a pretty amazing ability that could be very useful to this magazine.”
He shook his head. “I’m not sure what he’d be referring to.”
“He says you have a good eye.”
Charlie frowned. Had Eugene gone into his locker and seen his portfolio? Charlie had the black binder in there, waiting for the right moment to show it to Carrie. He had decided Carrie was his best bet, since in his weeks of working the fifteenth floor, he hadn’t even met Finola. He never even saw her, except when she whisked through the offices, barking orders or shouting demands.
But Eugene must have seen his photos; it was the only thing that made sense. Charlie thought he should probably feel angry that his boss had looked at his private stuff, but since Eugene had clearly been impressed by what he’d seen and recommended him to Carrie, he could hardly take offense.
“I—I have wanted to show you my portfolio for a while, but I didn’t know how you would react.”
Carrie’s brows drew together over her glasses. “I would like to see your work. Yes.”
“I could get it now.”
She shook her head, then tapped the envelope he’d just placed on her desk. “I need to deal with this first. But tomorrow. Come up after work. I’d love to see what you have.”
“Okay,” Charlie said, feeling more excited than he had in weeks. Maybe his situation was finally changing.
“Just out of curiosity,” she said, “do you have any pictures you’ve taken while working here? Of employees or other people affiliated with
HOT!
?”
“Um—” Charlie paused, not sure if he should admit that he did. “I have taken a few pictures. Mostly of a photo shoot I saw in Bryant Park a month or so ago.”
“I’d like to see those too.”
Charlie nodded, wondering why. They were hardly his best work, but he’d show her whatever she wanted. Then for a moment, he wondered if he was actually going to be in trouble for shooting those pictures. Maybe it was considered some breach of the magazine’s privacy policy or something.
But Carrie didn’t look upset. She simply looked like a smart businesswoman interested in seeing his work. Better not borrow trouble.
“Okay,” he told her, grinning. “I’ll have my work ready for you tomorrow.”
“Very good.” Carrie then reached for the envelope, pulling out a letter cutter to open it. Clearly she was done with him.
His mind whirling with this exciting news, he stepped out of Carrie’s office and straight into someone, a woman from the whirl of skirt and flash of hair, nearly bowling her over in his rush to leave and get to work on his pictures.
His hands automatically shot out to steady the person.
“I’m so sor . . .” The words dwindled to a halt as soon as he saw whom he’d run into, whose arms he held.
Ava stood directly in front of him, her expression as shocked as his. She looked amazing in an evening gown in golds and browns that accented her warm skin tone and dark eyes. Her long hair bounced, full and wavy, around her bare shoulders.
Then once the surprise wore off, Charlie noticed she looked tired. Her golden skin was not radiant with its usual healthy glow and her dark eyes were shadowed with purple circles as if she hadn’t been sleeping at all. But even with those noticeable flaws, she still was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
“Ava. How are you?”
For just a moment, her eyes seemed to eat him up, moving over him with blatant, intense hunger, but then she glanced away over his shoulder and her face, so alive with emotion, simply shut down.
“I’m fine. No harm done.” She shrugged off his hands and stepped away from him.
Charlie frowned, confused by her reaction until he saw she was no longer paying attention to him, but to Finola White, who sauntered toward them dressed in a slinky white gown, followed by a severely stylish man in an expensively cut suit.
Ava prayed Charlie would be so insulted by her cool behavior he would leave before Finola reached them, but he remained rooted to his spot.
“Ava, my dear,” Finola purred, or at least Ava was sure her boss thought it was a purr. To Ava it was like nails on a chalkboard. Her already tense muscles stiffened more as she watched Finola’s attention land on Charlie. “Who is your friend?”
Before Ava could deny even knowing him, Charlie spoke. “Hello, Ms. White. I’m Charlie Bowen. I’m just one of your lowly mailroom staff.”
Finola smiled at that. She liked to be reminded that she was surrounded by peons.
“Ah, you must be new then.”
Charlie nodded, offering her that adorably quirky smile of his. “Yes, I’m fairly new.”
“But you’ve had enough time to meet my Ava, I see.”
Charlie glanced at Ava, and she wasn’t surprised that his pleasure at seeing her was gone, replaced with a look of cool indifference. His dismissal hurt, even though she’d done the very same thing to him, and she knew it was the safest reaction for both of them.
“We’ve met.”
Finola nodded, her pale gaze still moving between the two of them.
“Well, I don’t want to keep you,” he said, bowing just slightly in Finola’s direction. Then he nodded toward Ava.
“I’m sorry again,” he said, his voice polite, but just for the briefest moment, Ava saw a flash of hurt in his hazel eyes. Then he headed toward the main lobby. Ava forced herself to not watch him go.
“Well, he’s a good looking man,” Finola said, having no such qualms about watching him leave. “I see the mailroom took my advice to hire more attractive people.”
“So it would seem,” Tristan said. “And more industrious too. It seems quite late for mailroom staff to still be working.”
Apparently that point didn’t interest Finola, because she turned her attention back to Ava. “Shall we go? We are expected at dinner already.”
Ava nodded, relieved that Finola hadn’t sensed anything between Ava and Charlie. Relieved and heartbroken all at once. She knew she’d done the right thing by snubbing him, but it had been so hard. She’d wanted nothing more than to throw herself into his arms and hold him close. She’d thought of him nonstop for the past two weeks and seeing him was as wonderful as it was painful.
She wanted nothing more than to see him again.
 
Rejected. That was the only word to describe how Ava had reacted to him, at least in front of Finola. She had barely acknowledged him. But Charlie knew what he’d seen on her face when their eyes had first met. He’d seen happiness and pain in her gaze, but she’d managed to suppress both emotions, quite efficiently.
And all because Finola would not approve? No, she probably wouldn’t, and Charlie had already heard for himself that Finola felt as if she owned Ava. So the cold shoulder had been for Finola’s benefit, he was sure.
But that would change once Carrie hired him as a staff photographer. Then he’d be in a position to date Ava, and what could Finola really have to say about that?
Of course, this was all assuming his analysis of the situation and Ava’s reactions was correct. Maybe he hadn’t read her right, and she wasn’t interested in him at all.
He unlocked his apartment and went straight to his camera. All he knew for certain was he needed to do first things first, and that meant getting his pictures printed and ready to show Carrie tomorrow night.
That had to be his first priority even though he wanted nothing more than to find Ava and discover exactly what she was thinking. He popped the media card out of his camera and headed right back out the door. Fortunately he knew a good photo lab that could get him his prints by tomorrow morning.
He’d get this job, and then he’d get his woman.
Chapter Ten
C
harlie knew he could count on his buddy at the photo lab: Lou assured him the prints would be ready by noon tomorrow and would be perfect. Part one of his plan was in place.
Now he had to believe that his work would speak for itself and secure him the job working with Carrie. And once he was working for
HOT!
magazine proper, he’d be that much closer to convincing Ava to date him seriously.
As he approached his apartment building, he slowed his steps, realizing someone sat huddled on the stoop.
Probably a vagrant. But after a few more steps, Charlie could feel his skin prickle with awareness, even though he still couldn’t clearly see who it was. The person straightened as if sensing him too.
“Ava?” he called, sure he must be imagining her. Then the streetlight caught some of the golden glimmer of her evening gown and he could see the mahogany highlights in her hair.
He hastened his pace, hurrying to her. She held her bare arms around herself in an ineffectual attempt to stave off the chill lacing the spring air.
Charlie immediately pulled her against him.
“What are you doing here?” After the weeks of silence and her dismissal earlier tonight, she was the last person he’d expect to find waiting at his doorstep.
She looked up at him, and the raw emotions he knew he’d seen on her face earlier were back. Her eyes were filled with a myriad of emotions. Concern, sadness, fear, desire.
But right this moment, with her finally in his arms again, he could only focus on the desire. That one emotion gave him hope the others could be soothed away.
Without letting her respond to his question, he kissed her. He had to. He had to taste her, feel her heat and response, to know that he wasn’t alone in his desperate need.
She whimpered, the sound despairing and desirous all at once. They kissed with devastated yearning for minutes, hours, Charlie didn’t know, but when they finally parted, there was no denying their need for each other any longer.
Even as Ava shook her head and said, “I shouldn’t have come.”
“Why?” Charlie just couldn’t understand what could be so awful that it warranted their staying apart when they were both clearly suffering.
“You just don’t understand how dangerous this could be.” She looked around her as if she suddenly realized they were still out on the street.
No, he didn’t understand, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to truly talk with her until they were in his apartment. And she was freezing. He kept his arm around her as he ushered her up the stairs.
Once they reached his apartment and they were in the privacy of his living room, he pulled her back against him. Again he kissed her senseless. But then he forced himself to stop. He needed to understand what was really keeping her away from him.
“What is so dangerous, Ava?”
Ava, her cheeks flushed from her reaction to him and her full lips puffy from their kisses, crossed her arms over her chest, this time not from the cold. This time in a stance of protection. She really was scared. He could see it in her eyes. In the tenseness of her body.
“I just shouldn’t have come here,” she finally said, then she met his gaze, her dark eyes pleading. “But after seeing you today, I couldn’t leave things like that. I had to let you know I care about you. And I had to be with you one last time.”
Charlie didn’t comment, but he’d be damned if this was going to be the last time he saw her. Instead he smiled, reaching for her hands.
“Are you worried because Finola wouldn’t approve of her star model dating a mailroom clerk?”
Ava laughed, the sound humorless, weak, nothing like her infectious giggles. “She’d do far more than disapprove.”
He frowned. Was Finola so controlling that she would destroy Ava’s career rather than see her with a man she didn’t think appropriate?
“Well, that doesn’t matter now,” he told her, offering her an excited smile.
“What do you mean?” Ava didn’t appear pleased by his enthusiasm. If anything, she looked more worried.
“Finola won’t be able to disapprove of me long, because Carrie Hall wants to see my photographs.”
She shook her head, her brow wrinkled with confusion. “Your photographs?”
“I’m a photographer. I only took a job in the mailroom at Finola White Enterprises to get my foot in the door and my work in front of someone who could hire me as a staff photographer. And now that is about to happen. I’m meeting with her tomorrow evening.”
“No!”
Charlie frowned, stunned by her emphatic rejection of the idea.
“But this is perfect,” he said, confused by her stricken expression. “I’ll get the career I’ve dreamed about and Finola won’t object to one of her models dating one of her photographers. It’s kind of a perfect solution, if you ask me.”
 
Ava stared at him, trying to control the panic welling up inside her, making it hard for her to breathe. Charlie couldn’t do this, he couldn’t lose his soul to Finola White too.
“Charlie, there is no such thing as perfect. And if there were, you certainly wouldn’t find it working for Finola. I know that all too well. You have to believe me, you don’t want to work at
HOT!
”
Charlie smiled, humoring her. He obviously thought she was being overdramatic, hysterical.
“You are worth it to me. I would walk through the fires of Hell to have a chance to be with you.” He touched her face, his long fingers stroking her cheek.
For a moment, she closed her eyes and allowed herself to savor his touch, nuzzling against him.
Then she said, “But would you sell your soul to the devil?”
“Without hesitation.”
That terrified her.
 
Charlie moved the hand stroking Ava’s cheek to the back of her head, pulling her close to him. She didn’t resist, rubbing her cheek against his chest.
“I’m so glad you came,” he told her, deciding they weren’t going to get anywhere discussing his plans further. “I’ve thought about you constantly.”
“Me too,” she murmured, not lifting her head from his chest. “I can’t get you out of my mind.”
Happiness filled him. “I’m glad I wasn’t alone in this agony.”
She smiled then, peeking up at him, looking so sweet and adorable. “Misery loves company, huh?”
He shook his head. “Not as much as pleasure does.”
Without warning, he swung her up in his arms, amazed that despite her height, she weighed virtually nothing. She released a surprised squeak, but then settled trustingly against his chest and arms, her own arms looped around his neck.
This time, he wasn’t as lucky as the first. His bed was a jumble of comforter and sheets. But he didn’t care and somehow he didn’t think Ava did either. After all, the bed was going to look far worse by the time they were done.
He eased her down onto the bed, then straightened to admire her. The gorgeous silk gown with its warm colors and fine detailing should have looked out of place, silly even, against the muddle of his simple, utilitarian bedding, but somehow it was perfect.
Ava looked like she was posing for one of her fashion campaigns, glamorous beauty amid the everyday. His body reacted, desire curling down through his belly, centering on the part of him that grew rock hard at the sight of her. At the idea that he could have someone so amazing in his plain little world.
She smiled at him, the gesture tremulous and lovely, and again he was stunned she could be so sexy, yet so innocent as well. The combination was powerful, heady—like the lure of a particularly mouth-watering scent or the captivating melody of a beautiful song. He was so drawn to her. To every part of her. Her beauty. Her sweetness. Her emotions. Her laughter. Her thoughts. Everything about her aroused him to the point that it was almost painful.
As if reading his mind, she moved her gaze down his body to the center of his aching need. Her gaze was like a physical touch, but only a brush, a tease. He needed more than that.
He peeled off his jacket, tossing it onto his bureau. Then he quickly undid the buttons of his shirt and shrugged it off.
Ava rose from the bed then, coming to him, pressing her hands to his bare chest. Slowly she ran them over him, downward across his nipples, over his ribs, down his stomach to the waistband of his pants.
Her delicate fingers paused there, toying with the button at the top of his waistband. She smiled at him, the gesture sweet and very naughty at the same time.
He groaned. “Planning to torture me, huh?”
She leaned forward and lightly bit one of his nipples. He gasped, fiery sensation shooting from the spot where her teeth connected with skin, straight to his loins. His cock leapt, pulsing. Hard, needy.
She smiled, the curl of her lips erotic torture against his heated skin.
“I seem to recall you making me suffer a little before giving me what I wanted,” she murmured.
“Yes, I did,” he said, unrepentant.
She laughed, the sound sending hot shivers down his spine. “Well, now it’s my turn.”
She kissed him then, a sweet lingering kiss, but after a few moments, her lips left his to press to his collarbone, his chest, to each of his nipples. She teased the hard tiny peaks with her teeth and tongue for a few moments, then continued downward.
Soon she knelt before him, her hands on his hips, her mouth tracing a hot, moist path over his stomach, her tongue dipping into his navel, before her lips stopped at the top of his waistband.
He could feel her warm breath brushing the fine hair around and below his navel. Her fingers curling into his hips, gripping him with her own longing, her own desire.
She released him, moving to the button of his pants, then the zipper. His cock jumped under the slight brush of her fingers as she worked. She smiled and his cock leapt again, reacting to every part of her. Just like it always did. Just like he knew it always would.
Carefully she eased his pants down. Charlie fidgeted for a moment, toeing off his shoes, then she removed the pants from around his ankles. Her fingers returned to his boxers, now working them down his body. The waistband snagged just for a second on his erection, causing them both to laugh, but as soon as he stood before her naked, her laughter died away, replaced by unbridled yearning.
Almost reverently she brushed a finger down the length of him, teasing the sensitive underside of his cock. She did it again, seemingly bemused by his reaction to even her most feathery touch.
Then he watched, entranced as she lowered her head and mimicked the caress of her finger with the tip of her tongue. He groaned, his hand coming out to tangle in her hair, as his own head fell back and his eyes closed. She could practically bring him to his knees with a single fleeting lick.
But he didn’t have time to ponder her power, because he was soon overwhelmed. Her hand moved to hold him, her fingers curling around his girth, her other hand testing the weight and texture of his testicles. That alone was pure bliss, then her hot little mouth came down to surround him. Lick him, suckle him, swirl around the sensitive head in whirls of delicious torture.
She continued to pleasure him with her hands, with her wicked mouth, until he was right on the precipice of release. He didn’t want to come that way. Not when he could be buried deep inside her, a part of her body in the most primal way a man could be a part of a woman. Nothing else would do.
He caught her under the arms, easing her up to her feet.
She smiled at him, her lips glistening. “You didn’t like that?”
“Oh, you know full well I loved it.”
Her expression took on that innocence again, the vixen of moments before vanishing. “Did you really?”
He laughed, amazed she could have any doubts. He kissed her, tasting hints of himself mixed with her own flavor. Possessiveness filled him, pulling him taut with the need to claim her, make her his.
He found the zipper at the back of her dress, pulling it down. Then he helped her glide the fluttery fabric down the subtle curve of her body until she could step out of it. She stood before him in just a strapless bra the golden color of her skin and a matching set of panties. And her very high, strappy, gold heels.
“I’m going to remember this look forever,” he whispered.
She smiled, but Charlie could see a hint of sorrow in her eyes. He kissed her, not allowing her sad thoughts to take hold.
Then he eased her back toward the bed until he had her lowered underneath him. They kissed for a long time, basking in the wonderful sensations of skin against skin, but eventually that wasn’t enough. He pushed off her panties, her own impatient fingers helping him. Then he was touching the very core of her. His finger dipping inside her tight wetness, his thumb rubbing her clitoris in rough little circles until it pulsed and quivered under him, until she cried out with delight again and again.

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