Dirty Flirting [Part One]_A Forbidden Romance Read online

  "I think the cosmos are trying to tell us something."

  "And what's that?"

  A playful, but mischievous, gleam plays in his eyes. "That this week, I can give up trying to imagine what it would be like to bend you over that table."

  I smile. "Yea... Well..." I try to respond, but my throat has completely run dry.

  A big grin spreads on his lips as he watches me hesitate. "Oh, come on, Kels, That wasn't even that dirty." He chuckles.

  Holy shit... breathe.

  "You just caught me off guard."

  His phone chimes before he gets a chance to respond, and he looks down at the screen.

  "Well, a few of us are getting together for lunch. We haven't decided where yet, but text me if you and Mila want to meet up."

  "Sure thing." I say as he backs away toward the door.

  "Unless you prefer that we stay here with the sheep skin condoms?”

  I laugh, and hit him with a ball of scrap paper just before he disappears around the corner. I'm still shaking my head when my phone chimes with a message from Mila telling me she's ready. I make it into the hall just as Drexel is entering the elevator and he holds the door for me.

  The elevator door slides to a close, and I feel prickly all over. The constant flirty banter we carry on is great... when we have a room of space I can absorb myself in. But being in such close quarters with him makes it hard to ignore the way he affects me.

  I slap the "G' button, and the elevator begins its slow descent from the twelfth floor.

  "So, did you wear that dress for me?" He grins playfully.

  "I did, I knew you'd love it." I smile and decide take the only upper hand I can. I slide a little closer to him, and his eyes fall down my body briefly before he meets my gaze.

  "So damn tempting," he says in a low tone. "In fact, I may have to find an empty office and show you what happens when you tempt me."

  "Oh really? What exactly would happen in that empty office?"

  He chuckles, but his eyes darken. "Probably a lot more than you’re ready for."

  I clear my throat and ignore the tingling that's rolling through my veins.

  "Well, Drex..." I say, lowering my tone, "...if you like the dress, you'll love what's underneath." He sets his jaw and holds my gaze.

  "It's a black thong..." I whisper, "... with a lace bra that holds, absolutely, nothing for the imagination."

  My heart races so fast that I'm worried he can hear it. I hold a strong poker face, and with only my eyes I tell him 'your move'.

  He looks away from my gaze and groans, allowing his head to fall back against the wall. The elevator dings as it slows to a stop on the ground floor.

  "Fuck," he says low and through gritted teeth. "You win."

  Smiling, I slide away from him as the door opens. He clears his throat and adjusts his tie as we both quickly step off the elevator and head in opposite directions.

  I'll show you what happens when you tempt me. He has no idea how much I'd love to find out.

  My heart is still pounding as I cross the busy lobby and head across the street to meet Mila. The small chrome bell attached to the door rings the moment I push into the diner. Warmth and the smell of freshly baked bread welcomes me in from the icy air . I stomp the snow off my feet and scan the seating area for Mila. I find her sitting in the corner booth closest to the window. She smiles and nods to the extra cup of coffee she had poured for me.

  "Shit, it's cold out there," I say as I slide into the booth across from her.

  She gives me a knowing nod as she takes a sip of her coffee.

  I wiggle out of my trench coat and wrap my hands around the cup to warm them.

  "So, how are things going with your group?" I ask.

  "Great, actually. We have to present research on the most effective types of ad campaigns, based on age and location, for the top three industries of EDG clients."

  "Oh." I smile and take a sip of my coffee. "We're doing condoms."

  Mila's brow furrows as if she didn't hear me correctly, then understanding dawns on her and we both laugh.

  We spend a few minutes talking about work before ordering our lunch.

  I'm about halfway through my soup and salad when the chrome bell chimes again. I look from my plate to the door, and notice it’s Drex. He doesn't see me and Mila sitting in the corner booth. Stopping briefly, he begins typing into his phone with a grin. His green eyes are alight as he smiles at the phone, killing me with his sheer cuteness.

  "You two should fuck already, you’re killing me," Mila says. She had been telling me a story about her fiancé, Rick, but stopped short the moment she noticed what my gaze has attached itself to.

  "I'm sorry." I snap my eyes back to hers. "I'm listening."

  She chuckles. "Just do it already, Kels."

  "Not going to happen," I say, quietly, even though it’s impossible for him to hear me.

  "So, what then? Eye fuck him and flirt until you drive yourself crazy?"

  My eyes shift from her back to him.

  "Ugh. This crush is so stupid." I huff, snapping my eyes away from him again.

  "That’s why you fuck it out of your system. I know you think no one knows you’re crushing, but I've seen people take bets on when you two will give it up and get it on." She smiles.

  "You're lying!" I say, eyes wide.

  She chuckles and stabs her fork into a hunk of waffle. "Fine, no one's actually betting, but still, it could be great." She gestures her waffle-laden fork at me, and tiny drops of syrup splash on the table before she takes a bite.

  "Ughh," I groan, dropping my head briefly. "It's not going to happen. He's only getting to me right now because I've had some bad luck in the hookup department the last few months."

  "Uh huh," she says, grinning and taking another bite. Drexel never notices Mila and I sitting in the corner, and I watch as three of our coworkers join him at his table.

  About an hour later, our group has reassembled with a plus one. Edward from EDG has joined us. He sits in the corner like a quiet creep, peering and scribbling in a notepad. It's totally distracting. Mr. Marsh did say we'd have an employee watch us work, but could he not have sent over Freddy Krueger?

  Ugh.

  Out of the corner of my eye I look again at Edward Kruger and decide it's time for a bathroom break. As I’m about to stand, a woman appears behind me.

  “Ms. Preston, I'm Paula, Marsh's assistant. If you have a moment, Mr. Marsh would like a word with you in his office.”

  “Sure. No problem.” I smile. I close my computer and notice another woman speaking with Drexel and pointing in my and Paula's direction. Drexel then stands and begins to gather his things.

  We follow Paula onto the elevator. The ride to the 14th floor is a quiet one as my mind races. What could Mr. Marsh want with me… or Drex for that matter? We are too new to be in any trouble. “This way.” Paula says, leading us down a long hall. Paula points us to the correct door and leaves us to enter Marsh’s office.

  “Please have a seat, this will only take a minute.” Mr. Marsh smiles warmly as he gestures to two high back leather chairs placed in front of his large cherry wood desk. The man clearly has a minimalistic taste in decor. The insane view he has of the cityscape is the only visually appealing thing about the room. The office has only a desk, a black sofa that closely matches the office chairs Drexel and I are sitting in, a large gray area rug and a nearly empty bookcase. His desk top holds the barest of minimums.

  “As you know, the marketing managers from Martin Corp’s team have already been placed in positions here at EDG. We made them aware of the ‘faux’ client presentation assignments we were giving everyone, and they all seemed very confident in Martin Corp’s employees and wanted to know the results. When we asked each them if there was anyone on the team they would recommend as exceptional, your names kept coming up.”

  I smile as I try to keep my eyes from popping out of my head.

  “We have two assistant positions o
n our junior level teams that I’d like to consider you both for. I have heard some amazing things, and to be quite frank, some were quite shocking. Mr. Adams, for instance, you assisted with the closing of a quarter million-dollar deal in early spring. And you, Ms. Preston, I’ve heard equally impressive things about.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Drexel says.

  “Tomorrow, I am sending Jackson Welsh, one of our senior members, to Miami to negotiate a deal for a client involving fashion handbags. I’d like for you two to accompany him for the week as assistants. This means you’ll be aiding in a real-life deal with a client in a high-pressure situation. Based on how you do, he will give his recommendations on where to place you.”

  I totally fail at keeping my eyes from popping out of my head.

  “Wow!” I gasp.

  “If everything I’ve heard about you two is truthful, I’m sure you will do fine.” He smiles.

  My eyes move to Drexel who swallows hard and then glances in my direction. His brow rises briefly then he extends a hand to Mr. Marsh.

  “Thank you so much for the opportunity.” Drexel smiles as he shakes Mr. Marsh’s hand.

  I finally pull my heart out of my throat, clear my voice and speak. “Yes, I’m honored, thank you so much, Mr. Marsh.”

  “No problem.” He chuckles. “I’m excited to have some fresh new members on the EDG team. I think you two will do great. Oh and please… call me Patrick.”

  Patrick smiles brightly and stands from his chair. “Now, go home, rest up and pack. Your plane leaves in less than 24 hours. I will have Paula contact you will all the details.”

  Drex and I are silent as we stand outside of the elevator. I can’t stop smiling. I can’t wait to tell Renee. The elevator dings and we step on. The moment the door closes, Drexel lets out a long breath. I chuckle to myself because I know exactly how he’s feeling. He looks over to me and, when he notices my smile, he smirks.

  “I can’t believe it.” He says.

  “I know, right!”

  “This is crazy.” He says, and his smile gets brighter.

  Oh god! Could he be any more sexy?

  I watch as he runs a hand through his brown hair then he captures me under his emerald gaze. We continue to smile as we stare wordlessly and I begin to feel something tingling in the air. He must feel it too because he clears his throat just as the elevator door opens and someone prepares to board.

  Why does it suddenly feel like helping to land the deal won’t be the hardest part about this trip to Miami?

  It doesn't matter how hard I try, I can't sleep. After the champagne toasting with Renee then packing and repacking too many times, you'd think I'd be exhausted.

  Well, I am.

  My annoying brain won't shut off. I've exercised, drank hot tea, and even tried counting damn sheep. Nothing works. I can't stop thinking about how important this trip is, how big it could be for my career. I'm sure being an assistant at the junior level will consist of a lot of sitting down and even more shutting up, at least at first, but it's one huge step closer to my goals. I toss and turn in bed for another hour before my alarm clock screams it's time for me to get up.

  Our flight leaves in three hours, so I order my Uber and begin my morning routine. I decide to wear a black and white printed blouse, with a knee-length black skirt, and my favorite pair of pumps. I pull my hair up into a bun, do my makeup, and head out the door. The morning air stings my face as I awkwardly balance my bag, purse, and rolling suitcase, while trying not to fall in the snow. Fortunately, the Uber driver is already waiting on me when I make it outside. He politely grabs my suitcase and carry-on bag to place in the trunk. I slide into the car, grateful he has the heat cracked up. Slowly, we make our way through the snow covered streets toward the airport.

  After fighting through the long lines of sleepy passengers and bored security guards, I check my suitcase in and meet Jackson and Drexel at the gate.

  "Good morning, Kelsa. I'm Jackson, it's great to finally meet you." He stands about the same height as Drexel; his frame is a lot slimmer and his arms and legs look longer than they should, but overall, he's not bad looking. He’s also younger than I expected, can’t be any older than thirty years old. This is such a relief because all of the other senior managers I’ve met look to be well into their fifties and my goal is to become a senior manager. But I’m barley pushing twenty-five, age fifty is a lifetime away.

  "Likewise." I smile. "I'm really excited to be working with you this week, I appreciate the opportunity."

  "Well, you two have earned it."

  “So, ready for Miami?" he asks, looking back and forth between Drexel and myself.

  "Oh yes," I say as I pretend to shiver. "I'm looking forward to Florida weather."

  "Same here," Drexel adds, with a bright smile.

  "I know what you mean." Jackson chuckles, and we follow him as we prepare to board the plane.

  My feet feel as if they weigh fifty pounds each as I make my way down the aisle. Drexel and I are seated together, and I envy how relaxed and refreshed he looks. I feel like crap. I'm a ball of crazy right now. I can't stop thinking about how important this opportunity is. If I get the job, I'll be aiding in advertising for some pretty big companies.

  "You look beat," Drex says.

  "Couldn't sleep. Did you?"

  "Like a rock."

  He stands to secure his carry-on bag in the overhead compartment.

  "I really want this." I wring my hands.

  "You'll do great, Kelsa. You kick ass at this stuff," he says, and flops back down in his seat.

  I nod. “Thanks, Drex, that means a lot coming from you. My roommate and I had champagne, and that usually gives me a good night sleep. But I still couldn’t sleep; I’m too damn anxious.”

  “Yeah, it’s a big deal. Lucy didn’t take the news of me leaving too well.” He laughs... as if he didn't just make my heart stop beating.

  A girlfriend?

  "She was a pain in the ass this morning, kept whining not wanting me to leave her." He continues.

  I'm not sure of the expression on my face, but the moment he looks up from his drink, he laughs.

  "Kels, Lucy is my two-year-old American Bulldog."

  My face flushes, and I resist the urge to drop my head in embarrassment.

  "Ohhh. I thought you were talking about your girlfriend."

  He continues to smile, and there's a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Girlfriend? Really? Well, I'd have to stop flirting with you if I had one of those." He winks.

  My blush deepens, and I scold myself for it.

  Get it together, Kelsa.

  "So, why don't you?" I ask.

  "Why don't I what? Stop flirting with you?"

  "No... have a girlfriend?" I clarify.

  He opens his mouth to answer just as the flight attendant pops in to ask if we need anything. I decline, while Drex gets a coffee and a sandwich. I shift in my seat as the ball of nerves trickle into my stomach. I'm trying to convince myself that this is an innocent conversation, but I know I'm digging. This question is loaded. I have never heard him speak of having a girlfriend, and I'm dying to know his story.

  "I don't know. I've been focusing on my career. The last girlfriend I had was about two years ago. I thought I was in love, but every time I had to choose between work and her, I'd always choose work." He shakes his head. "We'd been together since my senior year of high school, and things had fizzled out long before the break up."

  "Wow. I'm sorry, Drex."

  "Don't be. If I had a girlfriend, I wouldn't be able to see that look on your face when I kick your ass at dirty flirting." He smiles.

  "You ass." I smile. "I believe I won last time."

  "Well, that just means I have a week to torture you then."

  "We'll see," I say through a yawn.

  He chuckles and takes a large bite of his sandwich, and I fluff my pillow against the window and eventually drift off to sleep.

  The moment the Florida sun hits me, I
smile. People everywhere are wearing flip flops and sundresses. I look down at my blazer and immediately want to rip it off. It’s hot. Like really hot. I feel like I’ve stepped into another dimension. Granted, NYC is getting an early snow this year, but it’s still winter. Miami just didn’t get the memo.

  Drexel unbuttons the top button of his shirt as a black town car pulls in front of us.

  Once we are all situated in the car, Jackson speaks up. "Things will move pretty fast starting tomorrow, today... not too much, but it will give you two some time to prepare.” He says. “Tomorrow, we will go meet with the designers. Once we get checked in, I'll give you the files you need."

  The town car pulls along a long busy street full of honking horns and seemingly lost tourist. Jackson gives us the 'quick version' of the presentation and, eventually, we make it out of the maddening traffic and it’s smooth sailing to the hotel.

  We pull up to a luxury hotel about forty minutes later that sits close to the ocean. So close in fact, hints of sand has found its way into the parking lot.

  Jackson hands us two keys, and we are escorted to our rooms by bell boys. Drexel insisted on carrying his own bag. Beautiful portraits line the walls with elegant wall lamps and lit tray ceilings. It’s gorgeous, more fancy than any place I’ve ever been. The bell boys stop between two doors, and I realize we will be staying right across the hall from each other. Something about that makes the butterflies come back. The fact that he will be showering, sleeping, and everything in between, mere feet away, makes my blood rush.

  My room is amazing. A large king bed fits comfortable on the back end of the room. The décor is cozy with many personal touches. The room is set up like a studio apartment and has a personal feel. I absolutely love the balcony; it’s facing the ocean, and I know at first glance I will be spending most of my time out there. I unpack my suitcase. Since Jackson said we weren't doing much today, I decide to change into a sundress and lay out on the balcony. Hell, when in Rome, right?

  Seagulls dance in the sky, and sunlight warms my skin as I lie on the lounge chair enjoying the distant sounds of the ocean. I move my laptop from my lap to the floor, leaving it open in case Renee decides to call me back. I received a text message this morning from her with a slew of different emoticons. Apparently, someone pissed her off, and I’ve been calling all morning for the details, but to no avail. It’s her lunch hour soon, so hopefully she’ll call me back.