I looked down at my pajamas of choice and blew out a breath while counting to ten. I tended to react first and think later, but raging down the street in my pj’s to scream at the men—emphasis on the plural—I’d slept with was an exceptionally terrible idea. Brushing my bangs out of my eyes, I nodded at Grandma. “You’re right.”
She rolled her eyes before turning away. “I know. Meet me at my door in ten minutes. I need to put on something lighter.”
I fumed while I changed into a bathing suit from high school. As if being propositioned for a job as a prostitute wasn’t offensive enough, the way the suit fit my adult body added insult to injury. I glared at the way it sat over my breasts and hips before grabbing a t-shirt to pull over it. Slipping my feet into a pair of flip-flops, I pinned my bangs back and officially felt like a less cool version of my high school self.
I found my phone in my crumpled pants and shot off a text to Barrett before I could stop myself.
I don’t have any other customers tonight. Text me where to show up and when. Have cash this time.
16
***Holden***
“Bepreparedforatiny little tornado, fellas.” I stepped away from the window, eager to watch the show that was about to unfold.
Stomping up Dominic’s long driveway, looking more like a drowned rat than the sex kitten we’d spent the night with, Sugar was coming in hot. Judging by the pinched look on her face, she was ready to rip someone to shreds. I just hoped it wasn’t me. I felt like I was innocent, but that was usually the case right before a woman started shouting at me.
Barrett sighed and unfolded his body from the couch. “Doesn’t seem like she read my follow-up text.”
Dominic stood at his bar, pouring three whiskeys. He cut his eyes to Barrett and shook his head. “She probably blocked your number.”
The doorbell rang and then a loud knock instantly sounded through the first floor. I glanced toward the door with wide eyes. “Did she inject steroids before coming over?”
Dominic took one of the glasses with him as he strode over and pulled open the massive metal door. Before he could do or say anything, Sugar was stomping inside. He stared after her with raised eyebrows before closing the door.
Sugar was a sight, stomping around in flip-flops that slapped the stone floor with each step and a see-through shirt that hid a bathing suit that didn’t seem to be doing much to hold in her tits. I didn’t feel like being shouted out, but the view of her bouncing around was too good to complain.
“If you think for one fucking minute that I’m going to be your…your sex toy for pay, you’ve got another thing coming! I slept with you three because I wanted to, not to gain anything. I can’t believe you’d think that I’d be available to hire for sex! There’s nothing wrong with sex work, but I’m not doing it, dammit. The fact that you would even think of asking me—”
“That’s not what—”
“Is this something you do? God, your poor HR team. You can’t just solicit sex and run it through the company. Jesus. Am I lecturing three adult men about this right now?” Sugar glared at each of us and planted her hands on her hips. “I am not a prostitute. I don’t do that. The fact that you thought that of me, that’d I’d fuck for money, is—”
“Sugar!” Barrett rarely raised his voice, but he did in that moment, and it worked to shut Sugar up. “I wasn’t trying to hire you as a prostitute. I’m trying to offer you a job writing for our company.”
Without makeup and a polished hairstyle, there was something different to looking at Sugar. I still felt the tug of arousal, but under it there was a different interest. Seeing her vulnerable and bare, I was curious to see more. I could see a softness to her that I hadn’t seen the night we’d been together. There was an innocence to her that confused the hell out of me.
From afar, I’d thought she looked like she’d been thrown into the deep end of the pool. As strange as it was, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen a woman fresh from truly swimming and not pretend swimming. I liked the raw, realness I was seeing.
“You’re what?” Sugar’s face slowly turned from rage to horror. A deep crimson blush crept up from her neck until her entire face was burning bright.
“I want to talk to you about a real job.” Barrett leaned against the edge of the couch and held Sugar pinned with a firm stare. “I sent you another text as soon as I saw yours. I apologize that the wording of my message made you think I’d stoop that low. We’re not men who hire prostitutes, much less through the company that we worked so hard to build.”
I grinned down at my shoes to hide my amusement. Sugar had gone silent. I looked up in time to see her drop onto the edge of Dominic’s couch, just to pop back up. My mouth watered at all the movement happening under her shirt, but I kept my hands tucked into my pockets because Barrett probably wouldn’t appreciate me knocking us off his high horse by humping Sugar’s leg while he tried to speak to her.
“I’m so sorry! I’m wet. I don’t want to ruin your couch.” She ran her hands over her hair and groaned. “I should go.”
Dominic spoke for the first time since she’d stormed in. “Sit.”
I’d be lying if I said a thrill didn’t work its way down my spine at the sight of Sugar dropping onto the couch at the command. I grabbed my whiskey in an attempt to alleviate some of my desire.
“I’m mortified. I’m so sorry. I read that text and I thought…well, you know what I thought. I got fired from another freelancing job today and I was feeling sorry for myself. I really should leave. This was a mistake.”
“Sugar, do I need to say it clearer or louder? Sit. Down.” Dominic squatted in front of her once she was sitting again. “Barrett is going to explain his idea to you and then you can run away, if you still want to.”
She sank her teeth into her plump bottom lip and gave a jerky nod. Her hands rested over her bare thighs and she seemed to struggle to remain seated. Finally, she sucked in a sharp breath and all but exploded. “But I’m getting your couch wet! This couch is expensive, Dominic! I’ll just sit on the floor. Okay? Okay.”
He growled and shook his head. “The couch is fine. You’re not sitting on the fucking floor.”