Destiny by Design (8 page)

Thug let go of the handle with a little shove, clicking the door closed. Ellis felt Simon exhale against her.

“Whad’ya mean?” Thug’s voice was safely on the other side of the door.

“She said five hundred but she only left two-fifty and a note saying the rest would come at the end of the job.”

“Bitch. But you’re gonna hand over my share now,” Thug said with more than a hint of menace.

“Yeah, course, man.”

“Well that was fun,” Simon whispered in the dark confines of the closet the moment he heard the front door click.

“As a broken rollercoaster,” Ellis replied. Her heart was pounding but she couldn’t decide if the cause was fear or the weight of Simon pressed against her—maybe both. All of a sudden she was overcome with self-consciousness. Her breasts squashed against his unyielding body, his thigh against her crotch. “Can we get off the ride now?”

“Soon as we hear the engine, darlin’,” he said.

Ellis reached her hands up between them and pushed against his chest. She felt his heart pounding erratically and muscle—hot and hard beneath his dark T-shirt. His face was inches from hers and she could feel his hot breath against her lips. Adrenaline coursed through her system—fear, anger, excitement, need.

She leaned forward and let her lips bump into his, accidentally on purpose. She pulled back slightly but Simon wound his arm around her waist and pulled her forward. Their lips melted together, tasting, soothing and overriding the tension that built up in the closet over the last ten minutes.

Ellis broke their kiss. Simon froze, unable to read her intentions in the dark. Her palms cupped his rigid jaw and with silent accord, she took the lead. Just like her fantasy, better than her dream, she nipped at his lower lip with her teeth, softly, hungrily. He didn’t resist or try to regain control as she ran her tongue along the seam of his mouth, probing tentatively. She feasted on his mouth, alternately biting and sucking his lips, before allowing him to join her. Her tongue parted his lips, inviting him to play. A throaty groan escaped Simon as Ellis pressed her hips against his solid erection. Their tongues thrust and parried as they tasted and teased one another, their teeth clashing with urgency.

Ellis, eager to feel more of his flesh, ran her hands down his chest and slipped her fingers under his shirt. His abdomen contracted as she grazed the ripples of muscle. Palms flat, fingers spread, Ellis’ roaming hands attempted to absorb as much of his energy as possible. His skin was hot and firm, smooth and brawny. Ellis loved touching him, couldn’t get enough of the strength she could sense beneath the surface of his skin. She rolled her palms over his lightly furred chest and felt him quiver when she skimmed his pebbly nipples. Unable to resist, she squeezed them between her thumbs and forefingers.

Simon broke their kiss and, groaning, buried his face against her neck. He put his hands on her bottom and lifted her up against him, grinding his erection into her, proving the effect she was having. Again she thought of her dream—he tasted much better in real life—and let one hand slip between them to see if he measured up to her fantasy.

Simon froze in surprise and pleasure as her long fingers stroked the prominent bulge at the front of his pants. He rocked against her hand in counter pressure, moving slowly, fighting for control. He nuzzled her neck, nipping, kissing and sucking on her flesh.

“God Ellis, you have no idea what you’re doing to me.”

“Oh but I do.”

She felt his abdomen clench as she popped his button and urged his fly open to release the turgid beast. He gave a quick intake of breath against her ear as she ran her fingers down his steely erection and back up again. She touched the bead of pre-cum and swirled it around the head of his cock. Simon moaned low and deep when she wrapped her fingers best she could around the base of his thick, velvety shaft.

CLICK.

Shrouded with desire, the lovers didn’t notice that the truck’s engine hadn’t started, hadn’t noticed the sound of footsteps on the front steps, barely registered the sound of the metal key scraping in the lock. But they froze in a Rodin-esque pose at the sound of the opening door.

The footsteps in the hall stopped, seemingly in front of the closet door.

Ellis could feel Simon’s body brace, could hear him struggle for even breaths.

They heard the beeps of the alarm code being punched in, more footsteps then the front door closing. They remained perfectly still until the sound of the engine drifted away into the night.

Awareness flooded through Ellis. The house had been robbed, her tiles destroyed, she’d been physically belittled and here she was with her fingers wrapped around some guy’s cock. What the hell was she doing acting like a horny teenager in a closet? Claustrophobia took over and Ellis shouldered past Simon in an effort to get out of the confined space. She took a few deep breaths to regain her composure. It was all too much. What the hell did she do? She kissed him! And he kissed her back. Oh boy, did he kiss her back. Her knees wobbled at the thought of what they just did. Ellis needed to get her head back on straight.

“Okay?” Simon asked, clearly concerned. She could hear him adjusting his pants.

“Yeah, good.” She kept her eyes averted in embarrassment.

“Still unhappy?”

“Unhappy?” That was an interesting way to describe her fear, disgust, desire and the rest of the emotions coursing through her nervous system.

“Yeah, when you were scared, you said you were unhappy in the closet.”

“No, no,” Ellis corrected, confused. “That’s not what I meant. It wasn’t me that was unhappy—it’s the
closet
that’s unhappy.”

Simon raised one eyebrow.

“The door isn’t right. The closet would prefer louvers and a light.”

“What are you—”

“And a little shelf above the rod and a couple of hooks on the side wall.”

“Ellis…” Simon couldn’t believe his ears. How could she go from jerking him off to louvers in less than twenty seconds?

“It feels it would be better as a sports closet instead of—”

“Oh my God, Ellis! Are you out of your mind? With everything we’ve been through, that’s all you can say?” He glared at her, bewildered. He drove his fingers through his hair and shook his head. “It’s a closet! It’s a fucking CLOSET!”

Taken aback by his outburst, Ellis turned on her heel without another word and went to finish the job she’d come here to do.

Chapter Six

When Ellis woke up it was after ten, and she couldn’t remember if the events of the night before were real or just another dream. The paint on her hands confirmed that she had indeed been working at the house well into the night. She had worked and fumed—angry at thieves for breaking her tile, angry at whoever told them to do it, angry at Simon for scaring her, making her lose her head to lust then making fun of her. She was angry at Simon for making her talk to his detective friend until four a.m. and finally, angry at Simon for being such a beefed-up sexy beast.

She was no calmer this morning. She doffed her cotton khakis before even doing up the fly and tugged at the buttons of her white blouse. She searched with frantic abandon through her wardrobe, angry at Simon for making her want to doll herself up. With a measure of self-disgust, she donned a camel-colored skirt, black short-sleeved sweater—showing an extraordinary amount of cleavage—and knee-high black boots. She positively hated herself for digging out the studs that matched her single-strand pearls.

Ellis entered the show house much later than her usual time and passed two workmen removing the coat closet door. She noticed the electrician standing by to rewire for an overhead light. Ellis smiled.

He was waiting for her when she entered the office. He leaned casually against the built-in, wearing the same clothes as the night before. He hadn’t shaved, his hair was a tousled mess and he looked completely exhausted.
My God he’s beautiful
, she thought, regretting what she needed to do.

“Close the door,” he said in greeting.

“Hey, yourself,” she replied coolly, kicking the door shut with her boot and setting down her Starbucks cup on the worktable. “You look worse than I feel. Sleep badly?”

“No, in fact, I didn’t sleep at all. After the walk-through I did with Detective Novak to see what was missing, I ended up going to the station to file a formal report. Then she let me go with her and her men when they picked up Jim at dawn. They found a ton of our stuff in his garage but so far the little bastard is not cooperating. He won’t identify Thug or the person who’s paying him. Novak said to play it cool. Whoever is behind this doesn’t know that Jim’s been arrested and they’re going to hold him until Thug is picked up.”

“Do you know if they found Valentina’s wall border?” Ellis asked, handing Simon her coffee, which he finished in three large gulps.

“If they did find it, it’s evidence. She’s won’t be able to use it, at least not in this competition. Ellis, don’t tell anyone what we know, what we saw. Keep your eyes and ears open and tell me if you see anything suspicious. Novak is going to quietly check out the designers who are doing rooms upstairs. Cynthia, Karen, Valentina, all of them. Someone will be linked to Jim. There’s got to be phone records, past relationships, something.”

“Not Valentina.”

“Everyone up there is a suspect at this point. Ellis, look at me. Do
not
tell anyone. Not even Remi.”

“Okay, okay. I get it.” Man, Remi was going to be pissed when he realized she’d held out.

“Anyway, I didn’t have time to get home so I came back here, replaced some tools and sent Marco to pick up more tiles. They’ll be doing your bathroom this afternoon so you’ll have to stay out of there overnight, okay?”

“Do you have any suspicions about who’s behind this?”

“Yeah,” Simon said as he yawned and stretched. His shirt rode up, exposing his rippling abs and the line of hair running down his belly into the waistband of his jeans. Ellis swallowed the gasp that threatened to escape. Her nervous system flashed back to their closet encounter, sending currents through her body, making her hands want to reach out and touch the hard, muscled flesh. She wanted to push him onto the floor and let her tongue explore every wicked inch of him. She wanted to—

“Cynthia.”

“What?” The mention of her archrival was enough to drench her naughtiest thoughts.

“You used to work for her, what are your thoughts?”

“No…no,” Ellis began. “Not her. Couldn’t be. The original paint screwup involved her and me, right?”

“Yes, but the master bedroom was never painted. The mistake was corrected after the office was done. Come to think of it, she requested a later painting date, which had me puzzled since she usually wants everything done yesterday. Your room was done first.”

“I don’t know. She might be a nasty cow, but she’s very good at what she does and I find it hard to swallow that she would resort to sabotage in order to win the competition. I don’t like her Simon, and I have my reasons, but I don’t think she would stoop to illegal means. She doesn’t have to, despite what Remi thinks. You’ve seen her work. She’s brilliant.”

“What do you mean, ‘despite what Remi thinks’? What does Remi think?”

“Oh it’s just a silly bit of gossip,” she said, but Simon urged her to relate the story of the falling mirror.

“You’re right. It does sound farfetched but I’ll mention it to Detective Novak and let her do what she needs to do. She can probably get access to Cyn’s financial records, see if anything looks dubious.

“Now, about last night,” he continued, walking over to her and rubbing her forearms.

About what part of last night
, she wondered—the ground-dropping kiss, the fondling or the insults? She did her best to mask her emotions before looking directly at him. He searched her face, looked for a clue to her mood but he wasn’t able to read her normally expressive golden-brown eyes.

Ellis took advantage of his momentary silence to jump in. “Yeah, about that,” she began bravely. “Let’s just forget about it, okay?”

“No,” Simon said, shaking his head. He placed his hands on her shoulders. “I can’t forget about it. I’m sorry I yelled at you, Ellis. I was rude and I’m sorry.”