Pistol (11 page)

Steph looked up at Cass, her eyebrow cocked in confusion. “The page is blank.” She held the piece of paper out for Cass to take back.

“I know,” she hissed. “Grumpy pants is watching, so I had to pretend to be doing something legit.”

Steph smiled, and shook her head. “What’s up then?”

“You tell me.” Cass’s eyes narrowed as she rested her arms on the top of the partition.

Steph shrugged. “Don’t know what you mean.” She did. She knew exactly what her friend referred to
; the stale mood she’d been in the last week as she moped around the office like someone had died.

Well, hadn’t they?
Kind of? She hadn’t heard a thing from Pete since he left last Friday. Every damn noise her stupid mobile made, she had launched herself at it as though he magically found her number in the clouds. That’s how pathetically desperate she was to see a man she stabbed again.

“Well?” Cass prompted.

“I can’t say here.”

“Where then?
You name it, and we’ll do lunch.”

Greg walked by,
and stopped behind Cass to eye them. Steph flashed the sheet of paper to indicate they were at work, and he nodded as he carried on.

“That guy is such a pain in the ass,” Steph growled.
“And a creep. Did you see the way he kept touching that new girls back when he showed her around?”

Cass nodded.
“Couldn’t miss it. Anyway, lunch.”

“Yeah.”
Steph screwed her mouth to the side. “How about
Subway
? I haven’t had that in a while.”

“Deal.
As long as you don’t give me grief for having two cookies.”

Steph smirked, and nodded.
“Fine. Deal.”

Cass slipped back to her cubicle as Steph sat and
suppressed the jittery bugs in her gut. How the heck was she going to break this one to her bestie? Tell her she’d fallen for a crazy man? Tell her she wanted him to push her around like a common whore?
Mm-hmm. Loony. You’re loony.

She looked at the clock on her monitor, and relaxed. It was
barely time for her morning coffee. Enough hours until lunch to practice what she’d say then. She reached out, and plucked a list of numbers from her in-tray. Her eyes roamed over the data, and she cringed at the amount of time it would take her to enter and collate it all. Her fingers tapped on the desk top, and she mused over what sort of environment the new office might be. Would there be friendly people like Cass? Or a bunch of people a lot older with not much in common? Did they socialise outside of hours? Her breath shuddered out as a sigh while she searched the hard drive for the template she would need. Focused on the endless folders that contained client records, she jumped when her desk-phone buzzed.

Steph picked up the handset, and answered automatically; her focus still on
being able to locate the AWOL template. “Hello?”

“Miss Drake. You have a visitor at reception.” The old bag’s tone was cooler than usual.

“I’ll be right there.” Her heart flew to her throat. Nobody ever visited her at work. What on earth could they be here for? The visitor had to be family when Cass worked in the same office. Unless it was Ivan? Which would be worse. He worked on the other side of the city, so what was so important?

Steph played out a million dire scenarios as she made her way through the maze of desks to the entrance. She pushed open the frosted glass door that divided the reception from the offices
. Her heart stampeded madly against her ribcage. Her heels clicked on the tiles as she rounded the corner of the front desk, and lifted her gaze to her visitor. Steph’s heart stopped beating.

Him.

Here.

Why?

Pete drew a lazy smirk, and stepped up from the armchair he had waited in. “Hey, Cutie.”

The old bag behind the desk peered over the top of her glasses at the two of them. The woman probably drank in every detail for
lunch-time gossip.

“What are you doing here?” Steph whispered.

“Sightseeing,” he replied, deadpan.

“I’m kind of busy. I—
”

“Bollocks. You’re a fuckin’ terrible liar, girl.”

The receptionist’s head snapped up so fast Steph swore the bag would need a neck brace. Heat flushed her face as she looked away from the woman’s glare, and back into the amused twinkle of Pete’s eye. “I was about to have coffee. You’ll have to sign in as a visitor.”

He nodded
, and stepped to the book on top of the reception desk. The receptionist eyed him as he wrote his details down. Steph covered her smile when he shot the woman a wink, with a side of dashing smile.

“This way,” Steph gestured when he re-joined her by the door. “Hopefully there aren’t many people in the staffroom.”

“None would be best.”

She wanted to believe so badly that he’d said that because whatever he wanted to talk about was personal. But the gravelly tone of his voice, and the proximity he followed her suggested otherwise. Steph passed Cass’s desk, and
averted her attention to the worn carpet. She couldn’t stomach a guess at what her friend would do when she saw who was here.

Brown dress shoes came into
view, and Steph ground to a halt. “Mr Daniels,” she choked out.

“Stephanie. I didn’t know we welcomed friends into the office on a casual basis?”

Fire swept over her flesh. “Um, no. It was important.”

“It better be if your boyfriend here can’t wait until lunch-time.”

She caught the chuckle behind her, and blushed harder. “He’s not my—”

“Whatever he is,” Greg continued with an air of supremacy. “I would prefer you kept social engagements out of the work place.”

“Look, fella.” Pete stepped around her, and placed a hand on Steph’s hip to push her behind him. “You can’t tell me that ya sit in your cushy office all day doin’ only work. Should we go take a look at ya browser history and see what it tells us?”

Greg frowned. Steph cringed.

“Surely ya can spare the lady ten minutes?”

Greg flicked his gaze between them, clearly pissed. “Five.”

“Five it is, then.” Pete stuck his hand out, with a cocky smile plastered on his sinful mouth.

Begrudgingly, Greg accepted, and shook his hand briskly. “I’ll be watching for you to leave.”

“I’ll be sure to blow ya a kiss on me way out.”

Steph buried her face in her hands, and moaned. The idiot would have her fired on her last day in this office if he wasn’t careful.

Greg moved around Pete, and stopped to point a finger at Steph. “One time only, Miss Drake. One time.”

“Yes
, Mr Daniels,” she muttered as she avoided his stare.

Pete took her by the hand and gave her a tug. “Come on
, Love. We’ve got four minutes to get this done, and ya know I can’t rush when it comes to you.”

Oh, no he didn’t
.
Steph looked to Cass, mortified as the girl let go of a snicker. Steph could have happily crawled under the nearest desk, and died. She looked pleadingly at Pete, and he smiled widely back at her. The prick actually
enjoyed
embarrassing her. She scowled, and walked past him to the staffroom which was centrally located in the offices. The small, square room had no windows, and therefore offered no natural light. Staff lockers lined the right wall, a small kitchenette across the back. Steph led Pete in, and set off the motion-sensor lights. She turned to address the bastard as he shut the door behind them. Of course—they were the only two in the room.

“What the hell do you think you were—
”

He wrenched her forward by her wrist,
and their bodies collided as his warm lips crashed down on hers. A low growl resonated from the back of his throat, and he caressed her tongue with his. Steph softened to his grasp, and let out a small whimper as he reached around and squeezed her butt. He drew back, and licked the corner of his mouth whilst his eyes held her in a hooded gaze.

“Have
ya thought about what I said the other night?” His eyes searched her face as he waited.

“
That I’m ‘
just like the rest’
? Besides, it wasn’t the other night; you’ve ignored me for a week.”

“I wanted
ya to have time to think.”

“About what?
How you treat me like a damn rag-doll? Tossing me aside when you’ve had your play time?”

He chuckled, and stroked the side of her face. “Admit it,
Love. Ya live for those moments. Yer body begs for it.”

H
eat flamed her face as Pete leant in and drew an earlobe into his mouth. “This isn’t the best place to—”

He cut her off once more with a finger to her lips.
Pete grasped her by the waist, and guided her with him as he backed into the door to make them a human blockade. “You’ve got three minutes left.” He reached down and flicked his belt open. “Make it good.”

She
stepped back and stared with her jaw slack as he undid his fly. His eyes crinkled at the corners with sheer amusement as he nodded toward his crotch, then flicked his gaze from her face, to himself, and back. With the presumption she would co-operate, he eased onto the door, and laced his hands behind his head.

Steph crossed her arms
high on her chest—stunned at the gall he had to make such a suggestion, but more disturbingly, aroused as well. “You have got to be fucking kidding.”

A cruel smirk tugged at his lips. “Stop wast
in’ time, Cutie. And don’t lie to me by sayin’ ya don’t want to; I can see it in yer eyes.” He leant his head back, and closed his eyes. “You’ve got two and a half minutes.”

Heat plumed behind her ears as she looked him over. He stood
so damn carefree against the door, and sexy as hell, too.
You can’t be serious.
Her conscience screamed sense at her, but Steph quashed it. She leant toward him, and then paused. What if they were caught? What if Greg had security cameras in here?
You idiot!
Her eyes swept the four corners of the room, and the nerves which flew about in her stomach eased somewhat at the absence of any noticeable lenses. She returned her focus to the arrogantly, delicious man before her.

“What did you come here for?
Surely not to do this?” She ran her bottom lip through her teeth as she waited on the answer.

His eyes locked to the movement. “
Would ya like it if I had?”

“No,” she snapped. “It’s
... wrong.”

“Then no,” he said. “I didn’t.”

She eyed him for a moment, and hoped he would say something else. But he simply kept her firmly in his steely sights.

“Two,” he ground out through clenched teeth.

What the hell.

Steph fell to her knees before him, and shook her head at what she was about to do.
She took the top of his jeans in hand, and pushed them down his hips so all that remained between her and his request were a pair of black, fitted boxers. She screwed her eyes shut, and exhaled heavily.

This was it, the precipice. What she did now set the foundations for what he could push her to do. Yes, she’d played with herself before him a
fortnight ago, but that was different. She was in the relative privacy of her home then. Now? Now she was at work.

It’s a room. That’s all it is. And he’s a man, and you’re a woman. Do what you’re created for.

She opened her eyes, and laid her palm over the bulge in his boxers, pleasantly surprised at how hard he already was. Perhaps the thought of being caught excited him? Maybe he liked to be watched?
Maybe I like to be watched?
Her mind boggled. She slipped her hand up, and curled her fingers over the waistband. Steph tugged it down to let him fall forth.  Pete groaned, and settled into the door further.

Her mind blanked, and her gaze became a
vacant stare. What on earth was she doing? What the hell was wrong with her? Here she was, about to give the most arrogant ass of a man she had ever met, a blowjob—in her staffroom. Had she literally lost her marbles? Had the fumes of photocopier toner finally got to her? Because surely, she had to be high to seriously consider doing what she had planned.