Page 9 of Long for Me
“Mr. Ashby.” Ah, that sneer. It was lovelier than she believed it to be. I drank up her anger like an alcoholic chugged his booze. “Shawn and Miranda Lawson, Bennett Ashby.”
With a quick flick of her head, she gestured to her companions and I couldn’t help but grin. The blush on her cheeks and the fluttering pulse at the base of her throat told me all I needed to know. So did the way her glass shook in her hands.
She was affected by my presence and it wasn’t entirely the daily anger I was so used to experiencing.
“We’ve met,” I said and turned to Shawn, holding out my hand. Manners demanded it but even the brief turn away from Rebecca was too much. “Nice to see you two. Happy New Year.”
“You as well, Bennett.” Shawn shook my hand firmly, not once taking his gaze off me. I had him by four inches and probably fifty pounds, but this was why I respected the man. He wasn’t intimated by anyone or anything. “How do you two know each other?”
“Rebecca works for me.”
“He’s my boss.”
We spoke at the same time. Well, I spoke and Rebecca muttered. Her displeasure at my arrival was evident from the hard set of her shoulders and refusal to look at me.
No matter. I’d have her eyes on me soon.
Miranda’s eyes flashed and Shawn let go of my hand. “I see. I didn’t realize you were Rebecca’s boss, Bennett.”
“I told you I worked for Ashby Enterprises as an Executive Assistant.”
Shawn grinned. “So you did, I suppose I just didn’t make the connection when you were talking about your job.”
“And saying great, exceptional things about your boss?” I added. She’d moved away when Shawn began speaking. I wanted her closer. Wanted those mulled wine colored lips to plump in frustration. Anything but a smile.
She turned to me and smirked. “Something like that.”
See? I knew Rebecca. At least well enough to pull a reaction from her. In all honesty, I knew nothing about her. Not for lack of trying either. I might have been President of Ashby Enterprises, taking over when my father retired after a lifetime being groomed for the position, but Human Resources still had their rules. I wasn’t allowed private information for personal reasons, despite how often I’d tried to sweet talk my way into getting it. And since I enjoyed being president of the company, and actually respected my employees, I wasn’t going to become some domineering ruler in order to get my way.
I preferred to save the domineering for the bedroom.
“I’d like to speak with you,” I said to Rebecca. “Alone.”
She gripped her glass tighter, refused to look at me. “I came with friends and I’m busy.”
“Um, actually,” Miranda said, her gaze flickering between Rebecca and me. “We have to go do our demo now.” She made a face and Rebecca rolled her eyes.
“Of course you do. Go, have fun, get kinky, all that stuff.” She turned to me abruptly. “Tell me, Bennett, when you’re preparing to beat someone senseless on a stage in front of dozens of watchers, is there any good luck phrase you enjoy hearing? Like a ballet dancer is told break a leg? Do Doms enjoy hearing something similar, like, ‘whip her senseless’? Or maybe, ‘beat her nice and good’?”
“And, that’s our cue to go,” Miranda giggled and squeezed Rebecca’s forearm. “Play nice and behave.”
“Yes,” I cut in. “Let’s play nice.”
A furious heat flushed her cheeks and she rocked back on her heels. Yeah, she liked that.
Or she was getting ready to take a swing at me, and I’d seen the heels she was wearing, mighty spikey they were. Stilettos crunching on shinbones felt like shit. I stepped to the side just in case.
“Rebecca,” Shawn said, already having his arm wrapped around his wife and turning to leave. “Remember my promise.” His glance slid to mine and back to her. “Got it?”
She rolled her eyes at him. Whatever warning or code they had, she was brushing it off with a playful wink. “Go, whip your wife senseless.”
“You’re a nut,” he said. “We’ll be back soon.”
They left and I slid into Shawn’s spot at the bar, directly in front of her so she had no way to ignore me without making it obvious. I doubted she’d do it. She was too stubborn.
“So. You wanted to talk?”
I lifted one of my drink tickets in the air and waited for the bartender to fill a drink before answering. Now that we were alone, there were too many questions I had rolling in my head. Plus, I liked the idea of making her impatient.
