Wreck Me (10 page)

“You have a dirty mouth,” he breathes.

“Yeah, but I think you like my dirty mouth.”

“I like a whole lot more than this mouth of yours.” He runs his thumb across the seam of my lips and I bite it. He sucks in air through gritted teeth and fire blazes in those amber eyes.

“Text me your address. I’m picking you up as soon as you get home from work. Your ass is mine tonight. All night.” His lips silence the protest that I was contemplating on making. Oh to hell with it. I kiss him back and give as good as I get. I agreed to more sex and I am a woman of my word. Besides, I won’t deny that I am starving for more of him. He ends the kiss too soon for my liking and I groan in protest. He smiles and presses my cheek to his stubbly jaw as he wraps me up in a tight hug.

“Okay,” I say softly. He plants a kiss on my cheek and releases me. He slips into his fancy ass car and drives away leaving me to count the seconds until I feel his skin against mine again.

I turn and stride back to the store. When I walk in I see Sutton busying himself with my abandoned labels. I put my hands on my hips and fire away.

“What the hell was that all about?” Sutton peeks up at me as nonchalantly as he can.

“What?” Oh he is really pressing his luck today.

“Don’t you play dumb with me, Captain! Why did you drag him into your office and just what the hell did you two talk about? You put on a big display at lunch too, by the way. Nice. Very nice.” Why the hell does his lack of courtesy towards Damon have me so riled? I should not care, but I do. This can’t be good news.

“I had to have words with him. Last I checked this is America and I am free to talk to whoever I please so don’t get your panties in a twist you prima donna.” My blood boils and I see red. How dare he make fun of me. I am no damn prima donna. I never have been and never will be.

“Don’t you dare talk to me like that, Captain! I am no fucking prima donna and my panties are not in a twist!” I growl at him and his face falls a little. What the hell? Is that remorse? I didn’t think he was capable of that emotion.

“I apologize okay. I was only joking with the name calling. I just wanted to check him out. Too many jackasses out there these days. It’s not safe for young women to just pick up any man.” He shrugs and my jaw hits the floor. He gives a shit?

“Babysitting me huh?”

“Well someone has to! You’re as careless as they come. Now…stop…lollygagging and get to work here. I’m uh…going to be in my office.” He shoves his hands in his pockets and fidgets nervously with loose change. I watch quizzically as he shuffles off to his cave. I’ll be damned. He’s babysitting me. I shake my head in disbelief and get back to work in hopes that the rest of my day zips by. By five o’clock I have conquered the task of packing up inventory. Sutton had me draw up a huge going out of business poster board to hang in the window. Just like the old jerk to force me to do the dirty deed. It broke my heart to scrawl those words. I hung the sign in the front window and gathered up my things. I pop into Sutton’s office to say goodbye to the old fart.

“Hey I’m- what’s wrong?” I freeze in my tracks when I see how pale he looks. He glances over to me and shakes his head.

“Nothing. It’s that damn sandwich you fed me for lunch. I have indigestion from hell. Get me some antacids will ya?” I draw in a quiet breath of relief. I guess I kind of care about Captain a little too. It’s a love hate thing maybe. I have spent the last seven years of my life putting up with the old grump’s bullshit, it would be normal to be a little attached right? I don’t… love him or anything. He is my boss and I’m loyal is all. My silent ranting has my head spinning and even I have to admit that I sound like I am trying to persuade myself that I don’t care. I grunt in disgust with myself and snatch his antacids from behind the counter. I walk back into his office and plop two in his wrinkly palm.

“There you are Captain, my Captain. Anything else? Shall I spoon feed you now? Sponge bath?” He narrows his blue eyes on me and grumbles a few obscenities while he chews up the chalky tablets.

“Better?”

“Yeah. Get out of here you smart ass.” I snicker under my breath and stride out of his office. I snatch up my bag and high tale it to my place in record time.

When I get to my apartment I fire a text away relaying my address to Damon. He responded right away with a simple ‘
okay
’. I strip off my jeans and graphic tee and hop into the shower. I shave and exfoliate every inch of myself. I don’t know why the hell I am so damn compelled to get extra gussied up for him, but I do. I kind of want to impress him. A little. Okay a lot. I am all tied up in knots over this crap. This is not like me and it’s infuriating! I shove away my irritation with myself and jump out of the shower. I dry off and lotion up. I dart into my room and dig through my dresser in search of something lacey and sexy. I snatch out a lacey black thong and slip it on. I drag out a black bra and shove my full breasts into the cups. The warm weather makes picking out clothes easy. I grab a pair of denim shorts and a teal tank. I slip my feet into gladiator sandals and fasten the buckle.

I check my ensemble in the mirror and approve. Summer nights in Vegas make wardrobe choices simple. Less is best. It’s still hot at night around here. I scurry into my tiny bathroom and blow dry my wavy brown locks. I never style my hair. It’s either down or in a pony tail. Honestly I don’t even know how to do all that fancy shit the other woman my age do. I grab my cosmetics and line my lids like normal. I coat my lashes with mascara, and skip the blush since I am sure I won’t need it. I pop my lips together after applying my tinted gloss and ruffle my hair a bit more. I snatch up my perfume and give my collar and wrist a spray. I hear a knock at my front door and my stomach clenches. Oh geez. He’s here. I give myself one more glance in the mirror and then make the short walk across my apartment to the front door. I swing it open and there he is. Damn I can never tire of drinking in the sight of him. He is still in his gray suit and high-shine dress shoes. His hair is a little less disheveled and he is clean shaven. I guess he primped too. I wave him into my crap hole apartment and get a whiff of his cologne as he passes by me. Panties on fire. I’m like a rabid dog in heat. I need to calm myself. I glance down and see he is holding a black wardrobe bag in his hands.

“What’s that?” I ask with an arched eyebrow. He smiles and unzips the bag. He reveals an amazing cocktail dress. I may not be fashion forward, but even I know a cocktail dress when I see one.

“I am taking you to dinner and though I really, really, like those little shorts and tank top, you can’t wear that where we’re going.” He fishes down into the bottom of the wardrobe bag and pulls out a pair of sky high stilettos and I instantly panic. I don’t own a pair of stilettos and I doubt I know how to walk in them. I shake my head vigorously.

“The dress is beautiful, but there is no way in hell that I am going to wear those heels.” He narrows his warm amber eyes and it only heightens my desire for him.

“Yes you are.” I cross my arms over my chest indignantly.

“The hell I am!”

“And why won’t you wear the heels?” My puffed up indignation deflates and my shoulders slump fractionally. I feel stupid. How embarrassing is this shit? I am twenty-five years old and have never worn a pair of stilettos. I can’t just put those on and go out to dinner with him. I’ll break my neck or at the very least, embarrass the shit out of both of us when I wobble all over the place.

“I don’t know how to walk in them,” I mumble as my cheeks scorch red. I peek up at him. He shoves the heels into the bag and sets it all across the back of my futon/couch. He steps forward and wraps me up in his arms. His smooth jaw brushes against my cheek as he whispers in my ear.

“Don’t worry about it. You can wear different heels tonight but I promise you will learn how to walk in these heels. Understand?” His words set me trembling. I can tell he is dead serious and though he sounds all bossy and cave man-macho, I find myself nodding my head in agreement. There is just something about his dominating personality that turns my insides into searing hot pure arousal. I can feel the heat between my thighs. I’m a mess over him and honest to God, I have no desire to send him packing just yet.

“Your wet for me aren’t you?”

“Mhmm,” I hum seductively.

“I know. I can smell you.” Holy fuck, that’s hot. He grips the nape of my neck with one hand and I close my eyes as the other skates down my body. He flicks the button of my shorts open and unzips them. They drop off my hips slightly. It’s just enough space to allow him access. His hand slips into my shorts and I moan. He holds the nape of my neck, keeping my head from lolling forward to rest on that hard chest of his. His hand starts moving back and forth over my center.

“Open your eyes.” I pop my eyes open. We gaze at each other while he keeps up his movements. The pure heat and lust in his eyes has me ravenous for him.

“Let’s skip dinner,” I say in a pleading voice that sounds alien to my own ears.

“I know what I plan on having to eat, what will you have?” His voice is husky and dripping with desire.

“You.”

“Fine, if there is anything you need I suggest you pack a bag.” I gape at him. What the hell does he mean pack a bag?

“A bag?”

“I told you, Jo. It’s mine. All night. Let’s go.”

“Oh yeah.” I swallow hard and hurry to my bedroom. I grab a backpack from beneath my bed and toss in a bunch of random shit that makes no sense, but I am so flustered by him. He screws up my head and I end up tossing dumb shit into an overnight bag. I take a deep breath and dump out the bag on my bed. I toss aside the bottle of asprin and my bedside flashlight. What the fuck? I sigh and shake my head. He is being really bossy so he can wait a damn minute while I get my things. I calmly walk over to my dresser and pull out extra panties and another bra. I toss in a pair of jeans and another tank top. I dig into my nightstand for my birth control pills and shove them in along with my cosmetic bag. With a zip I sling the backpack onto my shoulder and walk back out to my small living room. Damon has his hands stuffed in his pockets and looks like casual male yummy-ness waiting for me.

“I’m ready.”

“Are you?” He winks slyly and I smile back at him.

“I am.” He slips the bag off my shoulder then transfers it to his. He scoops up the wardrobe bag and we set out towards his place.