Needing Her Page 13

“It’s about one of our associates. Someone used her the other night, then made her stay and wouldn’t let her go. He tied her up and kept her there the entire day.”

  “And what do you want me to do about it?”

  “It’s against the rules. This person needs to be punished. Otherwise he’ll do it again.”

  “Who was it?”

  “I don’t know but I thought you could help me find out.”

  “No.” He takes a drink. “I can’t do that. And you need to stay out of it.”

  “But it’s not right. We’re not in the business of tying up girls and holding them hostage for our personal pleasure.”

  “Was she hurt?”

  “She had red marks on her wrists where he tied her up. Other than that, she said she wasn’t hurt, but she could’ve been lying to protect him.”

  “Who is this girl? And why was she telling you this? Each encounter is to be strictly confidential.”

  “I can’t tell you who it was. Besides, if you’re not going to do anything, it doesn’t matter.” I sound angry, because I am. “I thought you would care about this, Jack. You have two daughters. Would you want them to be treated this way?”

  “This girl is not my daughter. And what these girls are doing is a job. There are hazards to all jobs and when these girls signed up, they knew what they were getting into.”

  “No, they don’t. I don’t think they’re telling the girls all the rules when they hire them. This girl wasn’t even aware of the punishments or the severity of them.”

  He sighs heavily. “That might be true. They’ve been having trouble recruiting girls, so it wouldn’t surprise me if they’ve been leaving out important details when the girls sign up, such as what the punishments will be for breaking the rules. If they told them, chances are they wouldn’t take the job.”

  “That’s not fair. They have to be told. We have to do something. Bring it up at the meeting today.”

  “No. Absolutely not.” He lowers his voice and narrows his eyes at me. “Like I told you the other day, you pick your battles, and this is NOT a battle worth fighting. They won’t do anything about it and you’ll have a target on your back for bringing it up. They’ll grow suspicious of you, wondering why you’re sticking up for this girl, and then they’ll begin tracking your every move, listening in on your calls, bugging your car. Is that what you want?”

  “No.”

  “Then stay out of it. You’re young and still new to the group. You don’t know much, so right now, they’ll leave you alone. They won’t even pay attention to you if you just keep quiet and don’t make waves. There will come a time when you can voice your opinion, but that time is not now. And when you finally are able to voice your opinion, think long and hard before doing so. Only do it for something you feel strongly enough about to risk your life for, because that’s what you’re doing every time you challenge them.” He pats me on the back. “We need to get in there. The meeting will be starting shortly.”

  The meeting is mostly just updates on things that are already in the works. My father talks about his progress on the development of a new chemical compound that can be used in explosives and not be traced. I don’t even want to know what that’s about, but I’m sure I’ll find out eventually.

  We break for lunch, then the meeting continues. It concludes at four. My father approaches me as I’m leaving. I haven’t spoken to him since I got here. That would seem odd to anyone else, but to us it’s normal. We only speak to each other when necessary. That’s the way our relationship is and always has been. Growing up, there were no father-son talks, unless I was in trouble for something. And now, as an adult, he talks to me only when he wants something or feels the need to lecture me about my behavior.

  “Several of us are going into the city for dinner,” he says. “Would you like to join us?”

  “I can’t. I need to go to the office. I’m behind on work.”

  “Is that because you left early on Friday?” He smirks, happy with himself for knowing something he knew I wanted to hide from him.

  “No. I just need to get some things done while the office is quiet.”

  “So where were you yesterday afternoon?”

  I quickly try to come up with a lie he’ll believe.

  “I went golfing. I know I shouldn’t have left early, but it was a nice day and I needed to work on my swing.”

  He nods. “I agree. We have several client golf outings coming up. You should work on your game so you don’t embarrass us like you have in the past. I’d like to practice my swing as well. Perhaps we should go together next week. We’ll go to the country club.”

  “Yes, we’ll do that. Enjoy your dinner.”

  I leave without saying goodbye to Jack, who’s at the bar getting another drink. I have to get out of here. My body is wound so tight my muscles ache. I hate these meetings and I hate being around these people.

  The only thing keeping me sane right now is knowing I’m going to see Rachel. Her beautiful face. That kind smile. I want to hold her in my arms, in one of those hugs she likes so well. Tightly this time so I don’t get yelled at. I laugh as I think about that. Out of all the things I could be reprimanded for, I never once thought it would be for how I hugged.

  I speed on the way back to my loft. I’m supposed to meet Rachel at seven, but I’m going to call and see if I can go over there earlier than that. I have to see her. I need to see her. And I don’t want to wait another minute.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  12

  RACHEL

  Pearce called and asked if he could come over now instead of waiting until seven. I told him yes, but I’m not quite ready so I’m hurrying to finish up.

  I’m glad he’s coming over early. Even though I just saw him last night, I already miss him. Thinking back, I realize that I never missed Adam, even when we were apart for days. I should’ve taken that as a sign we weren’t meant to be together.

  I’m not saying Pearce and I are meant to be together, but the fact that I miss him this much when he’s not around has to mean something. I can’t believe how much I like him. And it’s not just because he’s good-looking. It’s more than that. I like that he’s polite and a gentleman and that he’s always so attentive. When I’m talking, he gives me his full attention, which is rare for anyone, but especially guys. I like his subtle humor and how he hides it behind his serious demeanor. Just being around Pearce, I get this happy, excited feeling that I haven’t felt with other guys I’ve dated.

  I’m in the bathroom now, drying my hair. Blow-drying it always makes it frizz a little but I can’t go out with wet hair so after I dry it, I put it up in a ponytail.

  The cool fall weather from last night has remained so I’m wearing jeans and a white v-neck sweater. I do my makeup quick, and just as I finish up, Pearce is knocking on the door.

  I open it and see him standing there, wearing black dress pants, a crisp white button-up, and a blue, black, and gray striped tie. His shirt is taut over his broad shoulders with no bunching or wrinkling, like it was made for him. I bet it was. His clothes are probably custom made and that’s why they fit him so well. My gaze lifts up to his face, which is freshly shaved, accentuating his well-defined jawline. Just the sight of him causes that fluttery feeling to take over my stomach again.

  He hands me a bouquet of flowers, a dozen long stem red roses.

  “Pearce, they’re beautiful. Thank you.”

  He leans down and kisses me. “You’re quite welcome. I wasn’t sure what your favorite flower was but I assumed I couldn’t go wrong with roses.”

  “I love roses.” I take them to the kitchen.

  “But they’re not your favorite,” he says.

  How did he know that? Did I not sound excited enough about the roses? He’s very perceptive. I’ve noticed he seems to pick up on the smallest things, like changes in my facial expression or tone. I’m not used to that. In my past relationships I had to come out and tell a guy what I thought or how I felt about som
ething, and after I did, he usually didn’t listen or remember.

  “Tulips are my favorite, but roses are a close second.” I set the flowers down on the counter. I feel Pearce’s arms around me and I turn and see him smiling at me.

  “Then I will bring you tulips next time.” His hand sweeps down the side of my face, settling by my ear and holding me in place as he lowers his lips to mine for another kiss. This time it’s a slow, sensual kiss like he gave me the other night. I love how his kisses aren’t rushed. How he takes his time, his soft lips moving slowly over mine. And when I part my lips, he doesn’t shove his tongue in like most men do. Instead, I feel his breath and then his tongue, as his kiss gradually becomes deeper.

  We remain by the counter, and I feel my insides heating up as everything else around me fades away. We’re just kissing, but the way he does it affects me in such a way that I lose myself in the moment. Like I can’t remember where I am or what I was doing before he got here. It’s not just his kisses making me this way. It’s him. His large stature. His commanding presence. The way he holds me in such a strong, powerful way. He distracts me from everything else and all I can focus on is him and what he’s doing to me.

  When we pause to take a breath, I back away, knowing if we continue this, we’ll end up in the bedroom. And we shouldn’t do that. Not yet. It’s too soon. But it’s not like I don’t want to. I’m just not someone who moves that fast. But damn, I wish I was, because I really want to take this farther.

  I nod toward the flowers. “I should probably put those in water.” He lets me go and I take a big plastic pitcher from the cupboard. “I don’t have a vase. This will have to do.”

  As I’m trimming the roses in the sink, Pearce comes up behind me and wraps his arms around my waist and kisses my cheek. “I missed you today.”

  “I missed you too.”

  His strong arms surround me and I feel the heat from his body. I breathe him in because he smells good; fresh and clean with a hint of cologne that mixes well with his skin. He kisses the side of my neck, making me shiver.

  I keep my eyes on the roses. “You better stop that or I’ll cut myself.”

  “Then let me do it.” His kisses continue as he takes the scissors from my hand.

  “Pearce,” I whisper, my eyes closing as I savor the feel of his lips on my skin. “You’ll hurt yourself. I’ll cut them later.”

  “Don’t worry about me. Just relax.” He says it soft and low, his warm breath tickling my neck.

  He’s doing it again. Making me so aroused I want to drag him to the bedroom and give in to my urges. This is so unlike me. Wanting to do it this soon. But I feel like I’ve known him longer than it’s been. And this attraction I have to him is off the charts.

  I hear him drop the scissors and I open my eyes to see the roses now propped in the pitcher that’s sitting in the sink.

  “How did you do that?” I ask him. “You weren’t even looking.”

  “I’m good with my hands,” he whispers in my ear.

  My heart’s beating fast, wetness pooling between my legs. I tilt my head to the side, begging for more of his feather-light kisses along my neck. He does what I want, kissing the side of my neck as he tightens his grip around my waist. His other hand moves up to my breast, gently squeezing it.

  I softly moan and feel his lips smile slightly against my skin. His hand moves to the waistband of my jeans and he undoes the button, then tugs the zipper down. My breath quickens as I feel his warm hand on my skin, sliding down my lower abs and slipping under my panties.

  “Pearce,” I whisper.

  “Yes,” he whispers back, his hand knowing exactly where to go, moving in slow, purposeful movements.

  “Maybe we should…” I was going to say stop or slow down but it’s not what I want. It’s what I think I should want because it’s what I’m supposed to do. Be the good girl. Take things slow. But I’m tired of being that way. I want to do what I want. What feels right to me. And right now, what Pearce is doing feels very right.

  “Would you like me to stop?” I hear him ask in his deep sexy voice.

  “No.” I breathe out the word, unable to say any more, lost in the feel of his touch.

  I moan again, tipping my head back against his chest. My body is flooded with sensations, from head to toe. I’m still facing the sink and he presses into me from behind as he pulls me closer. I feel him, fully aroused, and wanting this as much as I do.

  I’m thinking he’ll back away and take me to the bedroom. But he doesn’t let me go. Instead, he continues what he started, his hand between my legs, igniting the sensitive bundle of nerves and quickly bringing me to the edge. As I pass over it, waves of intense pleasure hit me with such a force that I have to grab onto the sink to hold myself up. He holds me tighter as the waves continue, over and over until they eventually subside.

  He slowly removes his hand and talks low and soft into my ear. “Are you glad I came over early?”

  I turn around and see him smiling at me.

  “If I’d known that was going to happen, I would’ve had you come over this morning.”

  He chuckles. “I told you I was good with my hands.”

  “Let’s go to the bedroom.” I run my hand over the front of his pants.

  “Not yet.” He takes my hand and brings it to his mouth for a kiss. “I’m still getting to know you.”

  “I think you got to know me quite intimately just now.”

  “True. But I need to know more.”

  “But you didn’t get any enjoyment out of that.”

  “Trust me. I enjoyed it. I think you could feel how much I enjoyed myself.” He kisses me again. “Are you ready to go?”

  “I just need to finish my makeup.”

  “Go ahead. I’ll wait here.”

  I go in the bathroom, my body still recovering from what he did to me. That was amazing. I’ve never felt anything like that before, which is sad, because by the age of 24, you’d think I would have by now. But apparently the guys I’ve been with didn’t know what they were doing. Pearce definitely knows what he’s doing.

  When I come back out to the living room, he’s watching TV.

  “Okay, I’m ready.” I grab my purse and keys.

  He shuts the TV off and meets me by the door. He puts his hand on my lower back and kisses me. “You look beautiful.”

  “Thank you. And you look very handsome. All dressed up again, I see.”

  He holds out his tie. “This is a very casual tie.”

  “A tie is never casual.” I pull him into the hall and lock my door.

  “Sure it is.” He takes my hand as we walk down the stairs. “When you go beyond two colors in a tie, it becomes casual. That’s the rule.”

  “Who made that rule?”

  “I did.” We reach his car and he opens my door. “Are we still going to the shopping mall?” From the look on his face, you’d think I was taking him for a root canal.

  I laugh. “Yes, and you’re going to love it.”

  He shakes his head as he walks around the front of the car. He gets in and says, “So where is this mall?”

  I give him directions and ten minutes later we’re there. We go inside and I lead him to the Gap and take him to the men’s side of the store, placing him in front of the wall of jeans.

  “What kind do you want? They have all different kinds.”

  He looks at me. “Rachel, I cannot wear these.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s not appropriate attire.”

  I set my hands on my hips. “Excuse me, but I’m wearing jeans right now. Are you saying I’m inappropriate?”

  “No, of course not. They look great on you, but they wouldn’t look good on me.”

  “How do you know? You’ve never even worn them.”

  “All of my clothes are tailored to fit. I can’t buy clothes off the rack. They won’t fit right.”

  “Sure they will. You just have to try them on.”

  He eyes the st
ack of jeans, his expression wary.

  I get up close and whisper in his ear. “The thought of you in jeans really turns me on. And if I saw you actually in them, I may not be able to keep my hands off you.”

  He slowly smiles. “You’re very clever. And very persuasive.” He takes a pair of jeans from the stack. “I’ll try these on.”

  “You have to try on more than one. Let’s get a few more styles. What’s your size?”

  Unfortunately, the store doesn’t have many options in his size because he’s so tall. But we find four pairs and go back to the dressing room. He walks out and shows me the first pair and, wow, he looks hot. He’s got a tight ass that looks great in jeans.

  “I like those,” I tell him. “You should get them.”

  “They feel strange. The fabric is so heavy. I’m not used to denim.”

  “You’ll get used to it. Try on the next pair.”

  “Why? If you like this pair, I don’t need to try on any more.”

  “I want to see you in the other ones. And it’s good to have more than one pair.”

  He sighs and goes back in the dressing room. I poke my head in before he closes the door. “You look really hot in those jeans. Really, really hot.”

  He smiles. “You’re just saying that so I’ll try on the other ones.”

  “No. It’s the truth. You look great. Really.”

  I kiss him quick, then close the door and wait outside the dressing room. Shopping together like this, I feel like we’re boyfriend and girlfriend and have been dating for months. I don’t know what it is about Pearce, but I feel this connection with him that I haven’t felt with anyone else. Not even Adam.

  And I’m much more comfortable around Pearce now than I was just a few days ago. I think it helps that he’s not acting so formal anymore. He’s more relaxed and casual, or at least what’s considered casual for him. He still speaks in a very formal way but I’m used to it now and have come to like it.

  Pearce steps out of the dressing room and shows me the next pair of jeans, which also look good. The next two he tries on look good too. By the time he’s done, I can’t decide which he should get so I let him decide. He picks the first two he tried on. After that, I don’t think he was paying attention. Like most men, shopping bores him.