Falling Under You: A Fixed Trilogy Novella (1001 Dark Nights) (2 page)
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Authors: Laurelin Paige
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An excerpt from Chandler by Laurelin Paige
July
I pushed the door open and stepped onto the rooftop, grateful for the empty landscape if not for the hot, muggy night.
Escape.
That’s what this was. A much-needed escape.
I walked over to the railing and looked down at the street below, but my attention was still on the scene I’d just left. The awkward, horribly embarrassing scene. I groaned out loud. I could still see the look on Hudson’s face when I’d cornered him in the hallway and kissed him. Could still hear the disdain in his voice as he’d pushed me away and said,
“You don’t want what I have to give, Norma. Trust me.”
But I
did
want what he had to give. At least, I was pretty sure I did. After the disappointing series of men I’d dated who’d failed to satisfy me in the bedroom, I’d realized I craved a lover with the confident, powerful strength of a man like Hudson Pierce. A man who controlled and had authority over me in every way possible. I’d thought that he would be the one guy who could handle that I was a smart, successful woman without letting it intimidate him. As his chief financial advisor, I’d been his right hand “man” for years. Couldn’t I also be the perfect companion elsewhere? The potential of the power couple we could make was scary and thrilling all at once.
Apparently, he didn’t have the same vision.
My flaws ran through my mind like bullet points on a PowerPoint presentation.
Too old (thirty-four, which was only a digit off from thirty-five)
Too serious (how else did a woman get to where I was in the business world?)
Too independent (I didn’t depend on anyone for anything, though I’d prefer the real deal to my seven-inch battery-operated boyfriend)
Too…not blond (the most frequent hair color of the women I’d seen on Hudson’s arm)
I groaned again.
Stupid, stupid, stupid
. What the hell had I been thinking? Obviously, I hadn’t been. I couldn’t even blame my behavior on being drunk—though there was plenty of alcohol at the event downstairs, I’d touched nothing but water all evening. The party was meant to be a celebration. Pierce Industries had just closed its highest earning year ever, and I was a key player in that success. Silly me for thinking that a better way to celebrate would be to announce my infatuation with my boss instead of raising a toast like everyone else.
God, Monday was going to suck. How could I face Hudson without turning beet red with shame ever again?
The roof door slammed shut behind me. Startled, I turned in that direction, letting out my breath when I saw it was my assistant, Boyd. He approached the railing, and I scanned him over as he did, an action that almost caused me to sigh again. As sure as I was that I could be in love with Hudson Pierce, I was in most definite lust with Boyd Barrett. His suit was perfectly tailored to highlight his trim hips and toned upper body. And the way his hair flopped over his eyes, as though he didn’t give a shit about looking put together, yet pulling that messy look off with a precision that suggested he’d worked for it…yeah, he was truly a work of art.
He was a good assistant too. In the year he’d worked for me, he’d proven himself as the best employee I’d ever had, and not only because he was so delightful to look at.
Jesus, I really needed to get laid. Between my boss and my subordinate, I was halfway to getting charged with sexual harassment.
But I’d never make a move on Boyd. He was
my
right-hand man, even at only twenty-six years of age—a detail often overshadowed by his skills and competence. A detail that I remembered again when I truly took a moment to gaze at the smooth baby face—which he usually hid behind a pair of nerdy, dark glasses—and his young, fit body. He probably had a six-pack tucked under those layers of clothes.
I bet he could go for hours…
Suddenly feeling warm, I turned to look back over the city below me before my thoughts got too dirty. “You found the fortress of solitude.” I hoped my voice didn’t betray my naughty fantasizing. “Unless you were looking for me?” I added, realizing he might need a signature or a directive. Even though it was a Friday night, it wouldn’t have surprised me to find Boyd was still on the clock. He was as much of a workaholic as I was.
He lifted his foot and braced it on the lowest rail. “I was, as a matter of fact. I noticed you slip out and wanted to make sure you were okay.”
Ugh. How was I supposed to answer that? I felt like shit, but I was okay. I was
always
okay. That was me—strong, enduring. Even when I had egg on my face. Even when I was forced to admit that hooking up with my crush was never going to happen.
Not that I’d say any of that to my employee. Putting on a tight smile, I dismissed his concern. “I’m fine.”
“That’s a lie. You’re not fine.”
Boyd’s uncharacteristically brash response caught me by surprise. I turned my head toward him, my brow raised, my mouth open to correct his impudence.
But he spoke first, his tone rumbling with authority. “I’ll only ask once more, Norma, and this time I expect an answer—what’s wrong?”
The depth of the demand, the way his blue eyes seared into me, the dark, sensual way he spoke my name (a name he never used, a name I usually hated)—all of it was fuel to a fire I hadn’t realized this boy could kindle.
Strike that—this
man
.
Warmth rippled down my spine and spread to my center, awakening my senses, stirring my arousal, weakening my knees. And Norma Anders rarely got weak knees. I’d never seen this side of Boyd. I’d barely ever seen this side of
me
, and goddammit, I liked it.
He was still waiting for my answer, his gaze patient and demanding all at once, and while I should have been formulating a response that would cut the power to the strange energy field that suddenly encircled us, all I could think about was how hypnotic his eyes were, wondering if he was wearing contacts or if his work glasses were just for show.
So when I spoke, I wasn’t thinking—I was reacting. “I made a pass at someone.” The words tumbled past my lips, as though compelled simply by Boyd’s command. “A stupid, foolish pass. It wasn’t reciprocated.”
Boyd’s eye ticked, probably annoyed that he’d gone to so much trouble to elicit a confession that boiled down to, “
I got hurt by a boy
.” Even I recognized the pettiness.
Except, it didn’t feel petty. It stung and I hated how much. I particularly hated how weak it made me appear, and I gave into the urge to validate my emotions. “It wasn’t a pass I made lightly. I’ve thought about it for a long time, and logically, it seemed like it was the natural progression of our relationship.”
Maybe it was the tilt of Boyd’s head or the purse of his lips, or maybe I’d simply opened the floodgates by voicing feelings that I’d kept stowed away, but I wanted to tell him more, words that had no motivation except the desire to be spoken. “I don’t know how he couldn’t have noticed me. I’m here, every day, right in front of him. Yet he’s never batted an eye in my direction that doesn’t have to do with business. Can you imagine how that feels? To be praised and admired for my work ethic but never acknowledged as an attractive member of the opposite sex? To plug away, side by side, for years and never catch even one flirtatious glance? Do you know what that’s like?”
I threw my head back, pissed at myself for the eruption of emotion, willing my assistant to ignore what I’d said and go away instead of attempting to console me.
He
didn’t
try to console me. Instead, without missing a beat, he answered my hypothetical question earnestly. “Yes, actually, I do know what that’s like.”
My breath caught, understanding instantly whom he was talking about. There was only one person he worked alongside, and before his current position, he’d been in graduate school.
For the second time that night, my knees felt ready to give out. Something fluttered in my belly that I wanted to dismiss but couldn’t.
Carefully—cautiously—I twisted my head back toward Boyd. I had no comeback. No words as I studied the strong sweep of his jaw, the intent tilt of his chin. Boyd had feelings for
me
? It wasn’t something I’d ever seriously considered. Sure I liked to imagine what he looked like naked, but that was feelings-free. I was eight years his senior. I was his boss. It wasn’t smart to fancy a coworker, especially when the company emphatically disallowed fraternization between management and subordinates.
Oh. Wait.
Hudson could very well have had similar thoughts about me.
And I’d been hurt by his brush-off, which was reason enough for me to hear Boyd out.
But also, more enticing even, I wanted to hear more because of how his revelation made me feel. Unsteady and nervous and turned on.
It was a bad idea, though. A wickedly delicious bad idea.
Boyd interrupted my internal debate. “You’re thinking too much.”
My lungs felt pressed as I tried to keep an even tone to my response. “That’s what I do.”
“Right now you need to stop thinking and listen.” Again, his voice was weighted with a dominance that I had to obey.
“Okay.”
He bored his gaze further into me. “Hudson Pierce is not the man for you.”
My mouth gaped. I’d never said I was talking about Hudson. I worked with a predominately male staff—had I been more obvious than I’d thought?
Boyd didn’t give me time to dwell. “You’re attracted to him because there’s a part of your life that needs a strong, controlling man, but a man like him would never let you be the equally strong, independent woman that you are. He would always try to top you in your career and your relationships with others and you would always be unfulfilled.”
His words were tiny pins, their truth pricking at the bubble of a fantasy I’d created about my employer and myself. I tried to hold the air in, covering the holes. “But maybe that’s what I need.”
“It
is
what you need.” His raw conviction made me dizzy. “But only in well-defined areas.”
“Such as?”
“The bedroom.” He hadn’t moved closer, yet there suddenly seemed to be no space between us, and the air crackled with an energy that shot hot lasers to the skin inside my thighs. “There you need a man who will bring you to your knees.”
“That’s very”—
accurate—
“vague.” My heart thudded like a drum in my ears, a thousand beats seeming to fill each second of time.
He chuckled, a sound that itched at my desire like sandpaper. “Imagine this then. Imagine a man who never interferes with your business decisions. He stands by them. He takes your advice and direction readily. He admires the way that you take care of your siblings and everyone else around you. The way you keep everything in order and structured.
“Then you bring him here, to this company party. After you’ve fulfilled your obligations and you’re ready, when you give the signal, he takes over.”
“Takes over how?” My voice was so breathy that my words came out as no more than a whisper.
He lifted a finger up to shush me, landing millimeters in front of my mouth without actually touching it. “I’m getting there.”
It took every ounce of strength not to press closer, not to let my lips brush across his skin.
His eyes twinkled as though recognizing and delighting in my struggle. He dropped his hand—I swear it was meant to torture me—and leaned against the railing with the panache of a man twice his age. “He tells you to make your way to conference room B. You’ll leave the light off, but the blinds will stay open so that you can see well enough from the moon. There you’ll take off your panties and your stockings and lay them neatly over the chair. You’ll put your shoes back on and roll the chair out of the way. Then you’ll bend over the table, your arms stretched out in front of you, palms facedown, your ass up in the air. And you’ll wait.”
Each word scraped at my decorum, perking my lust like the ears of a dog when he sees the chains of his leash and knows he’s about to be walked.
“What if someone came in?” But my subtext was,
what do I have to do to get on the other end of that leash?
“That wouldn’t be your concern.” Boyd practically
tsk
ed in his chiding. “You’d let him worry about that. You wouldn’t question him either. Once you gave the signal, you’d give him the power. He’d give the orders, no arguments, no hesitation.”
I’d never had a lover that took charge. As in every other area of my life, I gravitated toward the alpha role and the men I’d dated fell contently into the opposing position. It wasn’t what I’d wanted—it was just how it was. It was just what men did.
But what if one man didn’t? I wondered if the lilt in my voice betrayed how often I daydreamed about exactly this type of scenario when I asked, “What would happen then?”
Boyd’s eyes narrowed, studying me, his gaze lingering so long on my lips I thought he might be considering kissing me.
Finally he said, “What happens next would be better shown than told.”
I straightened, putting distance between us. We’d suddenly moved from fantasy to possibility and were quickly skating toward probability. I was clearheaded enough to recognize that as inappropriate. This entire conversation was inappropriate. And dangerous.
It was also intoxicating. Boyd seemed to know things about me that I’d only just begun to realize about myself. Things I needed desperately to explore.
Still, I could be responsible. I had to be. “There are too many reasons why that would be a bad idea.” Enough said. Case closed.
