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Authors: Cari Quinn

BOOK: NeedMe
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If she moved fast, she might even have enough time to get
out of the state before Marcia blew her cover. Or put out a hit on her.

“Come in.”

He strode inside and remained standing though she motioned
for him to sit. “I’m going to close the door,” he said, not waiting for her to
respond before doing so.

“If you have a problem with the new payroll deduction, see
Lucy.”

“This isn’t a problem with payroll. It’s a personal matter.”

“Okay.” Diana leaned back in her highback chair, impeccable
as always in a slate-blue suit with her dark hair in an elegant updo. If he
hadn’t been paying such close attention, he might’ve missed her wince as she
shifted in her chair.

No wonder. Those welts on her ass had to sting.

“Go ahead, Antonio,” she prompted.

She always called him Antonio. Never Tony. And now he was
going to tell her he’d seen her naked and submitting to his best friend in
front of a crowd? Was he nuts?

He had to get out of here before he risked his job. But if
he walked, she’d have no warning about Marcia. He wouldn’t hide the truth from
his girl, no matter who it would hurt. She was his first priority and she
deserved his loyalty, boss or no boss.

“Did you have a nice vacation?” he asked rather than what
he’d intended to say.

“It was lovely, thank you.”

“When did you get back?”

“Late last night,” she replied, every word clipped as if she
didn’t have the time to waste on more syllables.

“Oh, really? Where did you go? On your vacation,” he added.

“Out of town.” She smoothed a hand down the lapel of her
jacket and eyed him coolly. Another moment and she’d be all the way to cold.
“Did you have something you wanted to discuss?”

“This is hard to say,” he said, fingering his tie. She might
be cucumber cool but he couldn’t stay still. “Actually it’s probably one of the
hardest things I’ve ever had to tell someone.”

Instead of looking concerned, Diana lifted a folder and
began riffling through it as if she were bored. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Fuck it. Fast was best. “I saw you at Kink last night.”

She didn’t look up from her papers. Her hand never trembled.
But a scuffling noise came from beneath the desk, as if she’d dragged her heel
over the rug. “You’re mistaken. I was out of town, as I said.”

“You said you got back last night.”

“Yes, very late.” She tilted her head and pursed her lips,
but not before he saw the twitch in her jaw. ”Whatever Kink is, I can assure
you I wasn’t there.”

“I saw the tattoo,” he said softly, caught between feeling
for her and wondering when her vaunted control would break. “In the small of
your back. It’s a blue butterfly. Last year at the company picnic, you bent
over to pick up a soda out of the cooler and I saw it. You tried to cover it
with makeup, I think, but sweat probably—” He broke off, shook his head. “Look,
I know it was you.”

“What is Kink?” she repeated, sparing him a glance as icy as
the sudden blast of air-conditioning from the vent behind him.

“You know exactly what it is. Christ, you know better than I
do.” Compared to her, he’d been a damn newbie to that scene, but he’d do the
dance. She could only deny the truth for so long. “It’s a sex club. Where people
go to drink and dance and have a good time, with and without their clothes.”

“That’s where you go when you’re not at work?”

Diana’s derisive tone didn’t offend him, not when she’d
clamped her fingers around her folder in a white-knuckled grip. Any fool could
see he had her on the ropes. “Twice. I went with my friend and my girlfriend.”

Her face seemed to collapse in on itself, every ounce of her
composure draining away until her blue eyes were hollow pools. “Marcia.”

“Yes. That’s why I’m here. Because she’s going to find out
and I don’t have any idea what she’s going to do. She won’t tell me why she
hates you.”

“I slept with her brother.” Diana’s flat voice matched her
wooden expression.

“Okay.” Spencer, presumably. Adam was a bit out of her age
range, though that didn’t mean much. “And?”

“I was married.”

“So I’m guessing things ended badly.”

She gave him a tight-lipped smile. “You could say that. I
became pregnant, went back to my husband. Then I lost the child.” She lifted
one of her almost translucently pale hands and examined her manicure.
“Spencer’s job was in jeopardy until I saved it. I made sure he was taken care
of. I wasn’t just some bimbo who didn’t have any feelings for him. At the
beginning, fine. But things changed. I left because of him.”

Whoa.
She must be really on the edge if she was
admitting all of this to one of her lackeys. Though she certainly didn’t
hesitate to get real personal with some of the other employees. “Did you come
back because of him too?”

Her eyes flashed, heat and life surging back into them. The
contrast was startling. “What did she tell you?”

“Nothing,” he said patiently. “She said it wasn’t her secret
to tell.”

“She has no idea what went down. How I felt. Does she think
it was easy for me to walk in here, to see him with a younger model of me? How
the hell did she think that made me feel? My husband had already moved on with
someone else, and Spencer, he didn’t want me either. He wanted Kelly because
she’s so young and open and innocent and I’m the older, brittle ex. Marcia has
no goddamn clue what I dealt with.” Diana jerked to her feet, grimacing again.
“But she will, with you. You’re going to move on soon enough and then she’ll
know what it’s like to be discarded and replaced.”

“I’m not moving on. I love her and I hope we’re going to
have a life together.”

He didn’t just hope. Dammit, he was going to make it happen.

But Diana didn’t seem to hear him. “Who else was with you
last night?”

Tony shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back and
forth on his heels. This definitely qualified as the most awkward, painful
conversation ever. “The man who, ah…” Struck? Disciplined? “Whipped you. He’s
my best friend.”

She sucked in air. “Not the boy I always see you with here.”

“For a boy, he certainly seemed to affect you.” He rubbed
the back of his neck. “What’s the appeal, if you don’t mind me asking? Do you
get off on pain?”

Oh great,
just
the question he needed to be asking
his boss. But he’d already stepped off the earth into surreality so why not go
all the way?

Again she flicked him a dismissive glance. He was surprised
her eyelashes weren’t starred with frost. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand.
But you weren’t supposed to be there. None of you were. It was so late. I
always make sure I never arrive before—” She pressed her lips together as if to
stop herself from saying anything more. She’d already said plenty. “Now that
you’ve delivered your message, you can go.”

Nodding, he turned for the door. He’d done his duty here,
regardless of how it had been received. What happened between Marcia and Diana
beyond this point wasn’t his concern, other than what he would need to do to
support the woman he loved.

“Under ordinary circumstances I would say thank you for
telling me,” Diana said to his back, “but I think you just may have ruined my
life.”

“I didn’t ruin it.” He glanced back, considered her for a
moment. Whatever Diana’s faults—and apparently they were legion—the obvious
mask of strain she wore stirred his pity.

Marcia defended her family like a tigress. When she learned
this latest tidbit about Diana, he could only imagine what she would do.

He almost felt sorry for Diana. Almost, but not quite.

“One piece of advice,” he said softly. “Maybe you ought to
take the time to learn the
boy
’s name. Just in case.”

With that, he shut the door.

* * * * *

“He keeps leaving messages. What should I do?”

Marcia rubbed the knot of pressure in her forehead and
prayed for serenity. Today had been a six-Advil day and it wasn’t over yet.

“That depends on you. You’re certain you don’t want to see
him again?”

“We have nothing in common. He’s Mr. Big Shot and I’m a
bakery manager. Why would he want to see
me
again?”

Leigh’s protests had gotten weaker. Had Adam somehow wormed
his way into her psyche after all?

“Your rack,” Marcia said, tired of playing games. Tired of
being nice. The bitch inside her wanted to rage against God and country, pound
her chest and cry her eyes out. Three things she wouldn’t do.

“That makes sense,” Leigh said thoughtfully, spurring a
laugh Marcia hadn’t anticipated.

“Kid, you confuse the hell out of me. Adam’s leaving town in
a couple days. Bone him and presto, your orgasm problem will be solved. You
won’t have to ever see him again.”

“You’re really sure he can deliver in that department?”

“Want me to offer a money-back guarantee?”

“Okay, what the hell. I’ll call him back. Maybe he won’t be
so annoying tonight. And I do still have a problem.”

“Don’t we all,” Marcia muttered, not wanting to hear any
more about Leigh’s lack of orgasms or her brother’s potential at providing them.
“Good luck. And please, for the love of all that’s holy, do not call me again
unless I tell you otherwise.”

Instead of taking offense, Leigh laughed. “Can I have your
email address?”

“No. Good night. And good luck.” Marcia smiled as she
clicked off.

The smile faded immediately as she took in the state of her
empty apartment. Her couch was littered with books and papers and more than one
candy wrapper. She’d had a hell of a day. Along with suffering through a
headache that wouldn’t die, she’d toiled through the beginning of her book. No
matter what she tried, the words wouldn’t come. And now, it wasn’t only because
she was severely intimidated by the blank page.

Diana had sunk her talons into another man she loved.
Goddamn it.

She pressed her fingertips against her closed eyes and felt
the nerves jump. What was she supposed to do? Step aside and let Cale do
whatever he needed to? Beg him to stay far, far away from the heartless bitch
who had ripped out her brother’s heart once then returned a second time to try
to ruin his life?

Spencer hadn’t told her exactly what had happened between
him and Diana when she’d returned to town and he’d subsequently ended things
with Kelly. It had been months later when Kelly had finally spilled the beans
to Marcia about how Diana had held Spencer’s job over his head and demanded he
sleep with her again to keep it. How he’d tried to go through with it and
hadn’t been able to.

The wench had let him hold on to his job just the same but
he’d lost months with Kelly. Eventually he’d walked away from the store
altogether and he and Kelly were in a better place than they’d ever been. No
thanks to Diana.

And now she’d somehow managed to slide right into position
with Cale.

Marcia picked up the spiral notebook next to her hip. At a loss,
she’d finally turned up the classic rock station and started writing freehand.
Her laptop seemed to shut her down before she even got started. Something about
using pen and paper had loosened the logjam inside her. Unfortunately the words
that flowed hadn’t been the opener, but a later chapter about emotional
intimacy.

Day two of her rocking writing career and she was already
breaking the rules about writing in order. Figured.

It wasn’t half bad, she mused, rereading the pages she’d
scrawled in her sloppy handwriting. She’d have fun deciphering some of her
thoughts later, but it was a solid start. And if she’d been writing while
thinking about her lover meeting with a woman she didn’t trust in any capacity
whatsoever, well, maybe the chapter would benefit. When talking about the
importance of connection during sex, it probably helped to be raw.

She definitely qualified.

The knock at her door didn’t make her jump. She’d been
waiting for it, each muscle tensed and ready to spring. He would come. He’d
said he would, and if she believed nothing else right now, she believed in
Tony’s word.

She rose and crossed the room then opened the door and let
him in. Stepping back, she slid her hands in the kangaroo pocket of her pink
sweatshirt and registered his expression of disbelief.

“You own a sweatshirt?” His mouth didn’t gape but it was a
close thing.

“Of course. Doesn’t every woman own one?” She smiled weakly.
“I just bought it today. Thought it was appropriate mope-wear.”

His laughter as he drew her into his arms upended her world.
The soft kiss he laid on her lips settled it. “Gotta say you’re the sexiest
woman I’ve ever seen in cotton. But why are you moping?”

She didn’t say anything, just waited while he tipped up her
chin and peered into her eyes. At least he didn’t have a bright light. Not that
he needed one. He always saw right through her. Just like now.

“He told you,” he said after a moment.

“You knew he was coming over?”

“Sure. Best friend code. If you’re going on a solo visit to
see the other’s girlfriend, you have to get clearance first.” His unexpected
grin blinded her. “Still counts if you’ve slept with her.”

“You’ve got this all worked out,” she said, moving back. As
much as she craved his solid warmth, she needed to stand on her own to figure
out if she could stand with him. “It’s all so reasonable and adult. Are you
sure you’re both only thirty?”

“Cale’s thirty-one actually.”

“Thanks for the clarification.”

He reached out and stroked her shoulder. “He can handle
her,” he said quietly. “If he even wants to.”

She let out a laugh and shook her head, shocked to the
ground by the stabbing pinpricks in her eyes. Hell no. She wouldn’t even think
about getting damp-eyed over that bitch. It wasn’t her problem. She had to be
hormonal.

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