Fair Game (10 page)

Yet here she was considering Kyle as a new playmate. A key customer contact. A business associate. Mixing two separate parts of her life. Crazy

He was so tempting. He played the game with her, even one-upped her. She
loved
games. She often set up scenarios with her buddies, such as a quickie in the backseat at a mall parking lot. Or they’d role-play, and she’d have him pick her up in a bar where they pretended they didn’t know each other. It was a turn-on with the bartender trying to listen in on what he thought was a stranger hookup. Josie adored her games, but she liked them safe. She needed to be on top, in charge, and in control.

Kyle wasn’t safe. Maybe that’s why she wanted him. He was older, he didn’t let her have control, at least not for very long, and he kept her riding the edge. Maybe she
liked
giving up control once in a while. That was a novel concept.

Her mother dashed at the net and missed, the ball flying wide past her. Her lips tensed, and under her visor, her eyes narrowed. Dora Tybrook hated losing, whether it was a point, a game, a match, or an argument.

“Break,” she screeched out, and jogged over to Josie’s bench, perched on the edge, crossed her legs daintily, and slugged back three gulps of water.

“Was there a reason you called me here, Mother?”

“Of course there was.” But she needed another chug from the bottle before she could speak.

At fifty-one years old, Dora Tybrook was in exceptional shape. She moisturized three times a day and had never smoked a cigarette in her life because it might ruin her skin. She played tennis four times a week, had a personal trainer with whom she spent at least two hours a day at the club, and followed her dietician’s regimen of healthy eating.

Josie thought her mother was too thin, and honestly, her black hair was a tad too harsh, making her look closer to fifty-five than fifty-one. Not that Josie would
ever
say that. Upon pain of death.

“You need to talk to your father,” her mother said, slipping her sunglasses on beneath the visor. “He’s been nitpicking my expenses again. I get enough of that from Connor. I don’t need it from your father as well.”

Growing up, it had seemed that’s what marriage was all about, one nitpick after another, on both sides. It took Connor and Faith to make Josie see that marriage didn’t have to be that way.

“Your expenses are your own fight, Mom. I told you I’m not getting in the middle of you and Dad.”

“Then at least speak to Connor for me so he’ll stop ragging on your father.”

Ragging? Connor and her mom had been battling expenses for over a year, almost since the day Connor started at Castle. Both her parents were on Castle’s board, but her mom, well, let’s be honest here, she was a great one for finding the flimsiest excuse for calling something a company expense. Such as her spa fees. After a grueling
(hah!)
board meeting, she needed a massage to release all the tension.
Gee, wonder why Connor had a problem with that,
Josie thought.

“Connor does not rag, Mom. He simply follows company policy.”

“Policy, schmolicy.” Her mother flapped her hand. “That’s the other thing I want to talk about. Are you sleeping with Connor?”

“What?” Her blood skipped simmer and surged straight to boiling point. “Of course I’m not sleeping with Connor. He’s married to Faith.”

“Don’t get all in an uproar.” Her mother shrugged as if she didn’t even see the insult. “You know Faith hasn’t lost all the baby fat, and there was that fuss last year about Nina and Connor.”

Yeah, a fuss her mother had created right to Faith’s face. “Mom. I am not sleeping with Connor. He loves Faith to death. He loves the baby. And Faith is not fat.” Josie wanted to smack her mother. Faith was gorgeous, the baby was beautiful, Connor absolutely adored them both, and Josie
hated
that her parents still denigrated their perfect marriage.

Her mom let out a heavy sigh. “I’ll take your word for it. But I’ve heard all the rumors flying about why
you
got Mr. Masters’s job.” She smiled. “Not that I ever considered that the scuttlebutt had any validity, of course.”

“Of course not.” That was the thing about her mom. She could be clueless about a person’s feelings, but at least she said it to your face instead of behind your back. “I got the job,” Josie went on, “because I was the most qualified.”

How could the gossip start flying this quickly? Not that her mom didn’t have her ear constantly to the ground, trying to catch every rumor.

Dora held up a finger. “Hold that thought.” She tossed her sunglasses aside and popped up to play another point.

Josie used to get mad and stay mad. But her mom was her mom. You couldn’t change her. You either cut yourself off or you let most of what she said just roll off your back. Except that comment about Connor. That was going too far, but Josie didn’t have any brothers or sisters, and disowning her mom or her dad was a thing of last resort. She was used to them. They thought the bigger the fight, the more it showed how much they loved each other. You didn’t fight with someone you didn’t love, right? Josie knew that was a load of dysfunctional crap. She didn’t need a psychiatrist to tell her it was part of the reason she steered clear of a real relationship requiring real commitment. The other part was having the first man she gave her heart to walk all over it.

Lost in thought, Josie missed her mother’s next point until she was once again back on the bench. “I knew it was just gossip about you and Connor. But, Josie, you’ve got to do something about this nasty talk.” She finished off her bottle of water.

“And just what am I supposed to do about it, Mom?” She hadn’t even known there were rumors.

“You have to quit.”

Josie laughed, and really, she meant it. “I am not quitting my job. I love it.”

“I don’t know how you can love getting all dirty and grimy. I never remember you playing with toy trucks in the sandbox.”

Her job was so much more than playing with sandbox toys, but her mother was disappointed she hadn’t turned out like Trinity Green, pretty, socialized, First Lady material. Or at least the wife of a governor. Except that Trinity had shown them all and taken a position as a lowly supervisor at her father’s company. Good for her.

“So,” Josie said, “I’m not talking to Dad or Connor about your expenses, and I’m not quitting my job. Is there anything else you wanted to tell me to do before I go back to work?”

Her mom huffed out an annoyed breath. “You don’t have to get snippy. I’m trying to help. I love you, and I don’t like to hear people malign you.”

Josie believed her. “I’m sorry. But I can’t do anything except ignore the talk.”

“Talk can damage your reputation.” Her mom pressed her lips together. “You have to figure out who started these horrible rumors and have the person fired.”

“Mom, you can never find out who started it. Someone always heard it from someone else.” But Josie did have her suspicions. Duh. She
knew
who’d done it. Ronson. But fire him? First, she’d never get proof. Second, she couldn’t fire someone right after she got the job. That would do more damage to her reputation than any silly gossip about her and Connor.

“Then I suggest you watch your back, because someone doesn’t like you.” Her mom gave her a long, assessing look, then glanced at the court. “Okay, must get back to my game.” She air-kissed Josie’s cheek, jumped up, fluttered her fingers, and served.

Josie was back at Castle before she realized her mother had never even congratulated her on the promotion.

Not that she needed the kudos.

“You got a package.” Lydia tossed her the envelope as Josie breezed past.

She caught it by clasping it to her chest. “Thanks.”

Things with Lydia seemed fine after their salary discussion, yet the girl had been late this morning. Was it the start of some passive-aggressive behavior?

Whatever. Josie didn’t consider herself a hard-ass. She was flexible. She figured Lydia would make up the time.

In her office, she flipped the lightweight padded envelope onto her desk. There was no return address, no company logo. After hanging up her jacket, she ripped open the end and shook out the contents.

Her panties fell into her hand. She glanced up quickly to see if anyone noticed. Ernie’s office,
her
office, looked out into the bullpen. Lydia’s reception desk was off to the left, beside the common area with the copier, fax machine, printer, and filing cabinets. Beyond that lay the maze of cubicles. Lydia was on the phone. Eastman was walking down the corridor, his face buried in a report.

Josie turned and briefly held the panties to her nose. Just as Kyle had. They smelled of him, sex and sweet come.

Opening her bottom drawer where she kept her purse, she had to laugh as she dropped them in. Good God, she was becoming a panty sniffer. Then she peered inside the envelope. A note had snagged on the inside Bubble Wrap.

“Your scent drove me mad. Thought I’d return the pleasure.”

Oh boy. She was in big trouble. Because she loved that he’d sent her the panties. Her come, his come, sex all over them. He had such a dirty mind. She’d always been into the physical side of things, but he had such a nasty, imaginative brain that he brought far more to it than simply the sex act itself. He made her hot, wet, and bothered, even when he was miles away in San Francisco. He lit a fire in her. He delivered the unexpected. None of her younger buddies had done that. She lit her own fire, then called them to put it out.

It was risky. Kyle could get the upper hand, but the idea of playing naughty games with him was irresistible. She wanted the challenge. She hadn’t had a clue how much she’d craved something different, but now she needed it.

Besides, Kyle was the perfect cure for the shitty mood her mom had inspired.

Rounding her desk, she closed her office door. Once back in her seat, she fed his number into her cell phone’s memory and called him.

 

 

 

“YOU are a naughty man, and you need to be punished.”

It took little more than her voice, and his cock got instantly hard. “They’ve got your sweet cream on there, too, so I’m not the only naughty one.”

“How do you know I’m talking about the panties?”

“Just a wild guess.” He paused. “You put them to your nose and smelled me on them, didn’t you?”

“I took them to the bathroom and washed them thoroughly.”

“Liar.”

She laughed, a little too harshly, and for the first time, he noted a thread of something running through her voice. “Bad morning?”

She came back after a brief moment. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

“Want to tell me about it?”

The pause was even longer this time. “It’s not about your project, don’t worry.”

“I wasn’t.”

He realized how stupid it was asking her to tell him her troubles. With her opening line, she’d told him she was looking for a little fantasy, not reality. “So you want to punish me. I think I prefer it the other way round.”

“No way. I’m in charge.”

He had no doubt she was. “How about we share that role?”

“You can’t share it,” she scoffed. “Then no one’s in charge, and the project goes to hell.”

“I was thinking more in terms of one time I get to be in charge, the next, you call the shots.”

In the silence of his office, his door closed, he could hear her thoughtful puff of air. “Hmm,” she murmured. He could even hear her mind working. “So you have to do anything I say when it’s my turn?”

“Yeah.” He let her savor the triumph a moment before adding, “And you have to do everything I say when it’s mine.”

“No pain,” she said quickly.

“Not even a little spanking?”

She drew in a tiny breath. “Have you ever spanked anyone?”

“Not enough to leave marks.”

She harrumphed. “I don’t like humiliation either. Or water sports.”

He laughed outright. “I promise none of that.”

“Maybe. I’m thinking, I’m thinking.”

“Slave for a week, then the other gets a chance.”

“A whole week?” She let incredulity slip into her voice, teasing him, he was sure.

Kisa knocked, then stuck her head in without waiting for an answer. “I’m making a lunch run. Vould like you something?” She smiled, fluttered her eyelashes. “Anything at all?”

“Nothing, thank you.” Then he thought of Josie hearing every word. “But I
really
appreciate the offer, Kisa,” he said with extra emphasis.

“Bastard,” Josie murmured in his ear. “Ever played slave for a week with Little Miss Snowflake?”

He laughed. “No.”

Kisa looked at him oddly. As if she’d never heard him laugh before when he had just as much humor as the next guy. He waved his fingers at her in a polite get-the-hell-out gesture.

“But you want to, don’t you?” Josie went on.

Kisa gave him a smile, then shut the door, leaving him alone again. “I want to play it with you.” He had the feeling Josie’s fantasies would be infinitely hotter and kinkier than anything Kisa could imagine. “Now where were we? Oh yeah, you’re going to be my slave for a week.”

“We’re only going to do it once a week, so a
whole
week consists of one date.”

He snorted. “Only one date in seven days?”

“If we do any more, you’ll become obsessed with me. It’s for your own good.”

He loved that she was such a spitfire. A hot little number. And always pushing to retain control. “You mean you’re afraid you’ll become obsessed with me.”

“Hah. You don’t need to worry about that. I’ve
never
been obsessed with a man.”

There was enough emphasis on
never
to make him wonder. “Then neither of us has to worry.”

“Right. And the first week is mine because you usurped my challenge while we were in the dressing room.”