I knew she was telling me exactly what I wanted to hear, but it didn’t stop me from pushing aside every single doubt. It didn’t stop me from guiding her back to my cock with my hand in her hair and taking control, holding her head in place while I thrust inside her mouth.
“And you’re so fucking good at it.” I had to give credit where credit was due; she was good. Damn good. So good it felt like she could pull the orgasm from my body with one long, slow suck.
My orgasm burrowed at the base of my spine and finally found its exit route. She sucked, and pumped her fist down my shaft, and it was all too much. With a groan, I came, spilling into her mouth.
Normally after I had an orgasm I was flying high, like I’d just ingested the best drugs money could buy. But right now, I’d never felt so low.
She might have agreed to help me, and it might have even been out of the kindness of her heart, but deep down I knew she was using me to sate some kind of weird need for sex she wasn’t able to handle or control now that she was no longer an escort.
Spending time with Grace was my own sick form of déjà vu, bringing back every single memory of my childhood and reminding me just how easy promises can be broken. And I wasn’t going down that road again. Eventually she’d be gone, on to the next guy who had something new and shiny she could enjoy.
This was the last time I’d let Grace Nolan make a promise I knew she wouldn’t be able to keep.
For my own sanity, I needed to get that through my skull.
Or there would be nothing left of me for anyone to claim.
Chapter 9
Grace
I sat in my office at Elle Cosmetics. I had to admit, the fact that this was my office for the foreseeable future made me happy. I had always thought that going into business for myself would make me happiest. But over the last week, I’d made friends—okay, maybe acquaintances, but definitely people who knew me. Grace Nolan. University graduate. Foster cat mother. And ambitious go-getter.
For the first time in a long time I felt like an actual person. I felt like me. And even though I was still tryi
ng to navigate the woman I wanted to be, I’d never felt so close to figuring it all out.
But the best part about this new job, I didn’t have to make up an elaborate lie to cover up that I had been an escort. I didn’t have to tap dance around the truth of my occupation, because this was my occupation. Somehow this full-time gig made it all seem more real. More than I’d ever felt working short-term contracts. The usual knot that sat in my stomach was suddenly gone. I was a normal woman, with a normal job, and a normal future.
This week I had interviewed all but one member of the management team and got a good handle on the mindset of the men working for Colette. She was the only female executive. If she wanted to move forward, that definitely had to change. Especially since she had some old-school workers sitting around her table who had entered the workforce before computers had been invented.
My desk phone buzzed for the hundredth time that morning. I didn’t have to look to know it was Everly with yet another text about the party. The poor girl was going to give herself a heart attack if she didn’t scale down her stress level. And I knew that reaching out to me was just her way of coping. Even if I didn’t have any advice, a simple “good idea” or “great job” was just what she needed to take a deep breath. Since she’d quit law school and had no plan for the future, she’d become unsure of herself, and it pained me to see my brilliant friend uneasy.
As I typed up my report and recommendations, I thought about the evening ahead, when I’d pick up my new foster cat. Sadie was going to kill me, but I hadn’t been able to say no when Alexandra called and asked if I had room for one more. These cats needed a home and I had four walls and a lot of affection ready to offer.
I caught a glimpse of Marta Sampson walking by my office and I called out to her. She hovered in my doorway, her blond hair pulled high into a ponytail. She had delicate features and pale skin. She looked like a Barbie, except her breasts were abnormally large for someone with such a small frame.
“What’s up, Grace?” She smiled at me, the same smile she’d given me my very first day when she’d introduced herself, coffee in hand.
“What can you tell me about the executive vice president of client relations?” It was the most bullshit title I’d ever encountered.
Her smile quickly turned down in almost a sneer. “That’s Scott. Colette’s younger brother. He’s hardly around, does zero work, but has a salary double mine.”
That wasn’t bitter. Not one little bit.
Marta was one of three human resource advisors and as far as I could tell, had a steady supply of work and was helpful to others.
“Last year one of the marketing guys caught him doing coke in the bathroom at the Christmas party. A few months ago, I caught him with some random chick under his desk when I tried to get his signature on something. And let’s not forget what should have been a sexual harassment complaint, when he propositioned the temp in the kitchenette.”
This guy was a train wreck.
“So he’s a showpiece.” Not the first time I’d encountered such a thing, especially in a family run company.
“I wouldn’t even say that.” She walked farther into my office, sitting in the blue fabric chair on the opposite side of the desk. My desk. “He’s nothing I’d want to show off. He creeps me out.” She leaned closer, lowering her voice. “I don’t feel bad telling you any of this, because none of it was learned in a professional capacity. It’s just office gossip, but how he manages to get away with so much is beyond me.”
“Is he on vacation?” He’d been the only executive I couldn’t get hold of this week.
“He only puts in an appearance on Fridays. He should waltz in around 10:30.”