ProvokeMe (3 page)

“Could be.
Then again, fringe benefits always sweeten the
pot.” Marcia trailed a fingertip over the thin gold chain she wore around her
neck.
“Sex as a business strategy certainly worked for you.”

Spencer took a breath, let it out slow and easy.
She, of all
people, had to understand how that barb hit home.
She didn’t know everything,
but she knew enough.
“You’re never going to forget that, are you?”

“Forget what?
That you strolled in here after I’d been an
employee for several years and cruised right past me to the top?
And it wasn’t
because you were always on top either.”

He stared at his sister and tried to remind himself she’d
been hurt by what happened, even if things hadn’t occurred quite like she’d
said.
“It was years ago, Marsh.
Diana’s gone.
I’ve proven I’m the right person
to lead these stores.”

She tapped her nails on her bare thigh, holding his stare.
Then she jerked a shoulder.
“I was never into business the way you are.
This is
a job for me.
A job I enjoy, but a job.”

It was as close to agreement as he’d get.
And he’d take it.
The last thing he wanted to do was remember a summer almost as hot as this one.
Five years ago already.
He didn’t have any desire to remember what had happened
then any more than he wanted to think about why getting involved with Kelly now
was such a bad idea.

He just wanted to work.
His salvation and his destruction
all in one.

“I must admit I understand where Di was coming from.
Younger
guys have something older men never will.”

“A fake ID?”

She rolled her eyes.
“I don’t go that young.
Jeez.
I meant
stamina.”

“Trust me, some of us still have stamina past thirty.
Just
because David didn’t know his dick from a hole in the ground doesn’t mean every
man with chest hair doesn’t.”

“We’re not talking about my ex-husband.
We’re talking about
you and why you’re all conflicted about boning Kelly.
A bit too much déjà vu
for you, huh?
Except now she’s the young one with starry eyes.”

“A minute ago, you were encouraging me to fuck and duck.” He
shook his head at her oft-used expression.
“Now you’re implying she wants your
job, even though it won’t be yours very soon.
Has to be your job she wants, or
as part of some game.
Couldn’t be because we have—”

What?
Chemistry?
They didn’t, not really.
Clashing opinions
didn’t necessarily mean they’d be well-matched in bed.
He’d done his best to
keep things as cool between them as humanly possible.
He hadn’t wanted to fuel
his own fire any more than necessary.
But videos of her on his loveseat and
lists of men to fuck took things to a whole new realm.

Hell, why was he arguing Marcia’s point?
Believing Kelly was
as ambitious as he’d been—and possibly as willing to do whatever it took to get
ahead—was easier than considering there was anything else to their attraction.

His gaze returned to the loveseat but he didn’t see Marcia.
He saw Kelly as she’d looked an hour ago, her tawny hair curved around her high
cheekbones, flirting with her whiskey-colored eyes.
Her mouth had looked soft
and raw, as if she’d licked off all her lipstick.
Though she didn’t dress as
suggestively as his continually on-the-make sister, her shirt had been a bit
too tight around her breasts.

Perfect handful breasts.
Breasts he could imagine biting and
sucking until she wrapped those long, long legs around his hips and drew his
cock deep inside her pussy.

Marcia let out a short laugh.
“Any woman who keeps a running
tally of men she wants to sleep with probably isn’t long-term material, Spence.
Your standards aren’t always particularly high but even you don’t stoop that
low.
Though you stoop low enough.”

“I’m really not in the mood for your lectures on morality.”
He shuffled through folders but didn’t open any, hoping she’d take the hint and
split.
Calling her into his office to question her had been a colossal waste of
time.
She either didn’t know anything or she refused to clue him in, which
amounted to the same thing.

“No?
What are you in the mood for then, boss?
Thought you’d
be in better spirits to know how utterly fuckable you are.”

Spencer stuffed the files in the top drawer of his desk,
deliberately covering the small purple PDA that had turned his afternoon to
shit.
Then he slammed the drawer shut and rose, grabbing his jacket off the
back of the chair.
If Marcia wouldn’t leave, he would.
And he knew just where
to go.

He limited his trips to the club because he knew greater
exposure meant more chances he’d run into someone he knew.
Last thing he wanted
to do was to advertise his need to watch people getting off.
A need Kelly had
unintentionally fed.
But if he didn’t let off some steam soon, he was going to
implode.

“I’ll see you later.” He shut the door behind him before
Marcia could so much as sputter.

He had a hell of a lot of energy to burn off, some physical,
a lot sexual.
He’d put in a couple hours on the machines at the gym, see if any
of the guys were up for a game of racquetball.
Then he’d head to Kink and get
the rest of his kinks out.

Best of all, Kelly Crossman wouldn’t be anywhere in sight.

* * * * *

“You’re not really wearing that, are you?”

Kelly glanced down at her black skintight capris and equally
snug hot-pink baby tee.
She wiped the back of her neck, already dripping with
sweat.
It was past 9 p.m.
and the heat index had yet to dip below eighty.
Welcome to May in Ely, Maryland.
The A/C in her apartment was unreliable at
best, so she’d probably be up all night long, tossing and turning in her sweaty
sheets.
And this time it wouldn’t just be from sexual frustration aimed at her
boss,
Mr.
Tall, Blond and Buttoned-Up
.

She had a bigger problem.
A gigantic, wished-the-earth-would-swallow-her-up
dilemma.

Her PDA was missing.

She’d discovered it just before Alana stopped by.
She’d
checked her pockets and every nook and cranny of her purse, even knowing a PDA
couldn’t shrink to the size of a paperclip.
But she’d needed to be sure.
Then
she’d dug through her car.
Still nothing.
A phone call to work and a couple
vague questions also hadn’t done any good.

The damn thing had disappeared.

Alana didn’t seem to get why Kelly was so freaked out,
though she knew all about the list.
According to Alana, no one would look
through her files and even if she’d lost it at work as she feared, someone
would return it in no time.

But Kelly knew the truth.
All her best friend cared about
was getting to the frigging club.

“Uh, yeah.
I’m wearing this.” Kelly crossed her arms over
her chest.
“Why?”

With a harrumph, Alana turned back to Kelly’s closet and
started shoving aside hangers.

“What are you doing?”

“Finding you Kink clothes.
Jesus, Kel, you’re not going to
grab a bite at the Double Burger.
You’re going to a club.”

She looked down at herself again.
“I’ve gone clubbing in
stuff like this before.
I’m going to keep you company, not to score.
And wait a
second.
Did you say
Kink
clothes?”

“Yeah.
Kink’s the club we’re going to.” Alana shook back her
ink-black curls and tipped her head to examine the dress she’d unearthed.
“Now
this works.”

Kelly propped her hands on her hips.
She’d only worn the
simple gold halter-top once because it was a size too small, particularly up
top.
But the one and only time she’d worn it, she’d gotten really lucky with
the fifth guy on her list, so she’d kept it for old times’ sake.
“Kink’s a sex
club, isn’t it?”

“It’s whatever you want it to be, really.
It’s sectioned
into three parts—vanilla, Neapolitan and chocolate cherry with nuts.
The flavor
you choose is up to you.”

“I’ve heard stories but I’ve never been.” Kelly frowned.
“Leave it to you to show up in town a couple weeks a year and hit that place up
first thing.”

“Honey, you play at being bad and I’m the real deal.” Alana
gave her a wolfish grin.
“I’m a Neapolitan girl, by the way.”

“Which is?” she asked, trying like hell to keep her mind off
her PDA.
Worrying about it all night long wouldn’t make it appear in her purse.

“It’s better seen than described.
Kink’s not a BDSM club or
anything like that, though I’m sure some of the people who go there are into
the lifestyle.
They do have a room that caters to that but it’s not really my
scene.
Kink’s more about the freedom to be yourself.
However you want to be, with
whoever watching.”

Kelly sat on the end of her bed and stared at her reflection
in the mirror over her dresser.
She wasn’t some neophyte sexually.
She’d come a
long way from her wallflower days in high school, and a lot of that was because
of the confidence her sex list had given her.
She’d taken control of her sex
life in college, just as she’d regulated her diet and exercise to yield the
best body she could.
Maybe she’d never be a centerfold model or, egads,
cute
,
but she made the most of what she had to work with.

Some guys found her attractive now.
Even if keeping the list
had become predictable and tedious, she stayed the course.
Because that was
what she did.
Thanks to having unreliable parents who’d missed school events,
ignored holidays and greeted birthdays with barely a hug, she’d fought to
create her own family of friends and work.
Anything to combat the loneliness
she’d never fully been able to shake.

Much as she hated to acknowledge it, she missed her parents.
Even now, her mom and dad were strumming guitars by a campfire in Sedona rather
than returning home to celebrate their only child’s upcoming twenty-sixth
birthday, despite her admission that she wished they’d come for a visit.
So
much for that.

She’d learned to make her own routines.
And to cling to
them.
Routines meant safety.
Familiarity.
Boredom.

Hooking up with Spencer would definitely change things up.
But the chances of it actually happening were pretty much nonexistent.

Even if he wasn’t sleeping with Leigh, that didn’t mean he
was available.
He’d spelled it out to her, hadn’t he?
He was married to the
store.
And he didn’t mention that he was in the market for a mistress.

She needed, one way or another, to break her obsession with
him.
But Kink?
How could any man she met there help her on her quest to get
more out of life than work?
A Kink guy couldn’t be long-term material.
Hell, he
probably wouldn’t even last until the weekend.

Maybe not even until the parking lot.

“I’m not sure, Lan.
I’ve got work tomorrow.
Early.
And—”

“And you have your methodical little system going and you
refuse to deviate from it.
I know.
Just come and scope things out.
There’s a
regular dance club in the vanilla section.
You can hang out there if you’re not
into the rest.”

“Yeah, and it’ll be super fun to hang there alone while
you’re having group sex in the lounge.”

Alana wiggled her brows.
“Oh, so you’ve heard of the lounge?
How about the steam room?”

“I’ve heard stories,” she repeated.

“So why don’t you stop listening to talk and start checking
it out for yourself?”

Kelly swallowed hard and reclined on her elbows.
Maybe Alana
was right.
Despite her list, she really wasn’t a bad girl at heart.
Truthfully
the whole thing was becoming more trouble than it was worth.
She hadn’t ticked
off the last few guys she’d listed, and except for one of them, she didn’t even
care.