Page 6 of Dark Holiday

I despised the way my friends could always make her laugh, the way her chest heaved with stifled snickers. If I didn’t like it from my friends, I sure as hell can’t abide it from John. What the fuck does she find funny about him anyway? I could have told a better joke with way more finesse.

An odd ache pangs my heart as I stare at them, all those memories threatening to come back to the surface. I won’t let them. I can’t let them. Above all of this, I’m still a professional and have a job to do, even if that job now includes the woman that ripped my heart from my chest and stomped on it with both feet.

“This is not your desk, John. Please find yours so I can have a discussion with my new assistant.” If he’s going to act twelve, then I have no problem treating him like an errant boy instead of the man he claims to be.

Once he leaves, Cindy looks up at me, blue eyes pleading, as if she can erase over a decade of pain with just a glance. “Look, I -.”

I hold my finger to her lips, both shutting her up and sending that delicious crawl of red flushing over her cheeks. I knew she was an easy blusher in high school. Nice to know some things never change. “Save it. I don’t know what the hell you’re doing here, but I’m not playing your game. You can pack your shit up and leave.”

Cindy’s lips tremble against my finger, her eyes welling with unshed tears. Fuck. She shouldn’t be able to do this to me. I should be stronger now, complete without her, but no. Just the hint of her crying and that stupidly chivalrous part of me, the part I thought I’d carved out by now, wants to come to her rescue...white horse and all.

Instead of the twenty-four-year-old woman in front of me, she’s back to being that fourteen-year-old stalking me around the school, acting grown since she’s finally out of middle school. Even at seventeen, I knew I wanted her. Hell, at twenty-seven, I still do. Something deep inside burns for her, but I never expected to be this close, not until I claimed her.

Dropping my hand, I motion towards my office, walking before her without looking behind. If she’s smart at all, she’ll know what thin ice she’s walking on and not push her luck by being a brat. Though, if I’m being honest with myself, I would welcome the brat. At least that’s something I can control. I can do something about that. Her tears, however, fuck that. What can I do besides make it worse?

I hazard a glance back and note her slumped shoulders. Soft sniffles reach my ears, and all the rage I tamped down all those years ago comes roaring back to life. Flinging the door open, I pause, letting her walk in first. Big mistake. Her ass, the one I used to tease her about for being so flat, is filled out, presenting me with a target that’s almost impossible to resist.

How many years have I dreamed about turning her over my lap and wearing her out, demanding she tell me the truth? I’m not going to spank her, not yet, but I will get the truth today. Even if I have to hold her job hostage, I’ll finally get the answers to all my questions. Cindy sits in the massive leather chair, worrying her hands in her lap. Maybe I shouldn’t have threatened her job. Hell. I know how dire everything is for her, but I can’t in good conscience keep a firm hold over my staff if I’m constantly looking over at her.

Lusting after her.

Craving her.

Shaking my head, I dispel the images of her bent over my desk, hideous skirt hiked up over her hips with my handprints staining her soft skin a bright crimson. These thoughts are dangerous, and just the fact that they’re ambushing my mind unbidden is the ultimate treachery. Reaching down, I adjust my erection, praying I can get through this damned meeting without giving away just how much I still crave her.

Instead of confronting her right away, I take my time, lowering the blinds in my office one at a time, letting the zipping hiss of the plastic sliding over the cords fill the space. Every so often, I glance over, watching in amusement as her movements and breathing become more jerky and erratic.

I’m not sure what’s happening inside her head, but she’s scared. She knows I’m the one thing standing between her and unemployment yet again, and I plan to lord it over her; show her how it feels to be left standing there, looking like an idiot.

“Want to tell me why you lied?” I make my way to the desk, standing in front of her, leaning against the polished wood. Crossing my arms, I stare her down, pulling my brows into a serious frown. If this look works in the courtroom, little miss heartbreaker shouldn’t be immune either.

Cindy shrinks back, her small body squeezing as hard as it can into the chair. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Her words are barely a whisper, but they still slam into me. She’s that volatile cocktail of softness and vulnerability, a combo that should make me want to hold her close and keep her safe, but not this time. This time, I want nothing more than to strip away that pretense and actually make her expose herself to me. No more hiding behind the facade of the good girl she claims to be.

“Not at all? Do you lie so much that you just don’t know where to start? Here, I’ll help you. Winter Formal.” Her eyes snap to mine, blazing with an inner hatred I didn’t know she could possess. Seems like the little kitten has claws after all. I shouldn’t be imagining them running down my back, but I do, nearly groaning and giving myself away.

To distract myself, I look over the resume I received from Hank Robinson, actually looking at it this time. If only I had taken the time to actually read the fax he sent me, but most of the crap that comes from him isn’t even worth lining a birdcage. I would have recognized her name in a second, and all the buffoonery that happened after would have been null and void. John wouldn’t have had a chance to flirt with her because I would have already gone to HR and dismissed her before she started.

Skimming over the details, I watch her from over the paper - the way she squirms, the stark white of her face. That’s when I look deeper. None of this is right. I know exactly what jobs she’s been working and when she was let go. The names and dates are correct, but not the job details. No wonder he hired her. Hell, I would have hired her with this resume.

A frisson of irritation slides up my spine at the very thought of both Hank and I being in agreement over something. He finally does the right thing and hires the type of assistant I’ve been asking for, only to deliver this fraud. Right now, I’m not exactly sure who I’m most mad at. Cindy, for being the liar she is, or Hank for actually falling for it. Either way, I’m once again up shit creek.

I ignore her as I sit down at my computer, pulling up her information from another work website. That resume looks closer to the truth but is still highly exaggerated. A smirk slashes my lips as I hit the print button and wait for her lie to spit out.

“Bring it here.”

She jumps at my words, startled by the sharp punctuation in the silent room, just as I intended. To her credit, she doesn’t even look at the paper. I’m sure some part of her already knows. I grab the resume from her and hold it up alongside the fax I got from Hank, noting the vast differences.

The fact that both resumes are an exaggeration of the paltry work she did moonlighting as a slutty waitress should make me angry, furious. Instead, I’m still stuck back at that moment all those years ago, an angry, hurt young man with a corsage in one hand and a college offer in the other. All she had to do was say yes. All she had to do was not leave me standing there like an idiot while she fucked my best friend. A friend so close we were almost brothers.

Closing my eyes, I take in a deep breath, letting the pain of her betrayal flow through me. We made plans. Solid plans. I was going to take her out of her dismal swamp of a hometown and let her experience the world. Hell, even having her work here in the city is better than where I left her, but it’s not enough.

I was going to keep her, protect her, dote on her. In return, all I asked for was her everything. I wanted to be her first. The first to claim her, mark her, teach her how to be the perfect woman for me. As I grew and changed, so did my tastes and desires. No longer am I satisfied with her being my submissive. Oh no. Once I claim her, I plan on turning her into Daddy’s little cum slut.

Shaking my head, I let the rage simmer deep inside as festering memories keep popping to the surface. She was going to give me her virginity, the one thing she owned that was truly valuable other than herself. All that changed the moment she decided to fuck me over.

I had watched her ever since she started at my high school, a shy, tomboyish girl that thought she could just blend in. I saw how the boys picked on her, hell, I was one of them, but then I saw the real Cindy. The Cindy she hid from everyone else. The Cindy I wanted to possess and keep as my own. Once the other guys saw me take notice, they did too. Their teasing turned from mean to sexual, making her uncomfortable and me livid.

Any one of those guys could have had her, but would they have really known her? Known what she needed? No. It was always supposed to be me. Anger races through my veins at the memories I thought long suppressed. Snarling in my brain, I glance back over at her pitiful form. Now, look at her. Can’t even afford her own place when I could have given her the world.