Night Owl (The Complete Serial)

rescuer. It’s not fair to James, especially if I’m going to be maintaining a professional distance, or trying to at least. Mixed messages are not cool.

Glancing up, I look at the sleek apartment building in front of me. Tall grey metal and stone block out the sunlight. Wind barrels down the sidewalk, chilling everything in its way. I actually was in the neighborhood, which is why I called the office number. I wanted to make sure that’s where James was so the temptation was removed from me altogether. I would never enter his building, his home uninvited. Windows on the first floor showcase a large security desk in the foyer, and fountains bubble in a mock lounge atmosphere for the rich to frolic and play. Definitely not my scene.

More excited barking comes from my companion as a large dog passes on the sidewalk. The owner is looking down at me and pulling the overly-friendly dog away. Charlie strains on the leash I’m holding, so I’m forced to follow suit or be dragged by fifteen pounds of annoyance. “Come on, Charlie. Back home we go you vicious little beast.” I tug gently. Once the dog has turned the corner, Charlie gives up with a pathetic whine. I whine internally myself. My body wants James, but my mind resists, and my heart’s jury is still out.

The next building over is my stop. It’s a little less of everything compared to James’ building, but the woman who owns Charlie pays me well and has referred me to several other new clients, so even if she’s a Grade A bitch, I can’t discount that she’s kept me out of dire straits with my own meager finances. “Bitches be paying” repeats in my mind like a rap song I wouldn’t normally get to play on my show. Something about FCC rules and regulations I have to obviously follow. Censorship was a real drag sometimes.

I drop Charlie off, then count the twenties now filling my palm as I walk through the corridor and back out to the street, pocketing my cash. I feel my phone buzzing in my pocket. Another damn text message. I wonder how much of this I can tolerate before I end up giving in to James. I grab my phone swiping the screen open.

T-Dog: Can you come in and record a spot this afternoon? Advertiser said he’ll pay double if we get it booming for an event this weekend.

It’s the studio producer and my manager, Tucker. I contemplate a reply quickly typing back to him.

Me: I can be there in 20, but this better not take long.

I hit SEND, waiting for Tucker’s response. When I turn around to walk towards the studio, debating on hailing a cab, a single honk sounds behind me. Startled, I almost trip over my feet distracted as I turn around to see who would be so fucking rude.

“Get in the car, Casey.” James sits behind the wheel of his sleek BMW, looking both bored and irritated, tapping his long, thick fingers against the wheel. Magical fingers that I remember doing wicked things to me. Of course it was James. Who else would be so arrogant in their approach?

“I’m walking.” Crossing my arms over my chest, I stand belligerently on the sidewalk, both pissed he found me and secretly thrilled. Who does he think he is?

“Get. In. The. Car.” James doesn’t even look at me and, for a second, I think about running down the block like a crazy woman. I take one step when his head turns, his sunglasses slipping down low enough that he’s peering over them at me. I’m convinced he would chase me if I ran and I know he would definitely catch me exacting some sexually satisfying punishment. The debate rages in my head for a second when I dismiss it.

“No,” I whisper, shaking my head. James lifts one eyebrow and my stomach flips. Before I realize what I’m doing, I’m grabbing the door handle, whimpering. Yeah, he’s definitely my boss in more ways than one.

“Now, was that so hard to do, sweetheart?”

James removes his sunglasses and leans over. His hand reaches over my chest and grabs the seatbelt, pulling it over my body, clicking it securely in place. His hand reaches up again, adjusting the belt over my chest, taking the opportunity to let his hand graze the side of my breast. The touch is lessened through my jacket but no less effective. I’m left wanting more. He ignores me and puts the car in drive, pulling out into traffic. Thank god for a manual car; otherwise, his hand would be between my thighs and I’d likely be writhing from all the teasing. My body feels strung out and I can’t stop the flutters coursing through me. I’m putty in his presence.

“How did you find me?” I hate that my voice cracks.

“I’ll always find you.” James speeds the car back towards the office.

“You realize that’s kind of creepy and stalker like, don’t you?” Shaking my head, I turn away to look out the window. He’s frustrating, to say the least.

“Mmm, I considerate it a part of my charming and domineering personality.” He says driving between cars switching lanes his focus on controlling the car smoothly.

“At least you’re honest.” I grumble settling into my seat.

James pulls the car into his super special CEO parking spot. The garage is dark and, while I know James wouldn’t do anything, I’m still not used to the idea of people thinking anything is going on between us.

“I’m not… I don’t… Shit, James. What is this?” My insecurities threaten to swallow me whole. Nervous energy makes me scratch the fabric of my denim leggings.

“You’re overthinking things.” James unclips his seat belt and reaches over to unclip mine. I grab his hand before he can slide the belt off my body touching me and activating my hormonal response to jump him bones right here. He looks down at our tangled hands with a devious smile that melts me right back into the leather seating.

“And you’re incredibly pretentious,” I whisper to him, but I know my resistance means very little when my body language is telling him how much I want this.

“Sue me. I’ve been waiting an awfully long time to do this.” James lets the seat belt go and digs his hands into my messy hair, dragging me forward. The awkward seating of his car keeps me pinned.

“I might just do that.”

His lips hover over mine, his breath blowing against my face. “What’s that?”

He looks at me with heavily-lidded eyes. I take a steadying breath because I know what’s coming next. I can’t even deny or refute how badly I want this.

“Sue you.” Slowly, seductively, I let the words hang precariously close to the ledge of need.

The very second the words cross my lips, James is attacking me. A hungry kiss devours me, sucking me dry. I’m a wet, boneless mass of incoherence. When his teeth graze my top lip, I gasp and James plunders me, taking more and more. He whispers between kisses, sue me, over and over again getting me hot and bothered with his baseless threat. His tongue is stroking and sweeping mine, coaxing me to play.