The Diary of Brad De Luca
Page 4
Eight days. Brad ground a cube of ice between his teeth, rattling the cold glass before sliding it across the counter. Eight days and no contact from Julia. It had gone from being refreshing to being annoying. Women always called. They called after he spent fifteen minutes f**king them on his desk, much less after two days drowning in limos and caviar under the Vegas skyline.
He had spelled it out in Vegas. Explained to her how he regarded sex. As entertainment, joint pleasure. How stock shouldn’t be put in the act, how relationships shouldn’t form just because of a sexual connection. He had told her that he couldn’t be a boyfriend, couldn’t be what she wanted or needed in a man.
But she should still be texting, emailing, calling, begging for more of him, especially when he had delivered more than any partner before, with both his mouth and his cock.
Instead, silence. She was doing godknowswhat with godsknowswhom and not giving him a second thought. It was maddening, made even worse by his realization that he had noticed the slight. He stood, tossing a twenty on the bar and headed home.
competition
Ten days later.
Brad stood at the conference room table, bent over, signing documents as they were presented, a flurry of pages before him.
Flip.
Sign.
Flip.
Sign.
The woman on his left notarized, the woman to her left witnessed, and the stack moved, page after page, motion after motion. He heard, through the open door, a conversation occurring in the lobby and paused, halfway through a signature.
“Naw, they finished up. Word is Broward is closing the West Wing down early, letting everyone off at five.”
“About damn time. Let’s go out tonight, the group of us. I’ll invite Julia.”
“You get a piece of that yet?”
“No, not yet. I’ll run over there now and make sure she comes.”
He tilted his head, listening as the pair moved on, the sounds of the office reentering his subconscious, his attention returning to the monotonous task before him, his mind turning, moving without his control in a direction he knew was dangerous.
He straightened, setting down the pen and walking to his office, shutting the door before picking up his phone. Back in the conference room, the women exchanged confused looks.
She answered quickly, a lilt in her tone, no sign of mourning or anguish in her greeting. “Julia Campbell.”
“What are you doing?” He aimed for a manner that was casual, just-calling-to-chat, but the words came out rough, uncivilized. He took a deep breath, loosening his tie, and willing the anger in his body to cool.
“Just sitting here.”
“With who?” He bit out the words, wanting her in front of him. Wanting to push her back on his desk and see the vigor in her eyes.
Her voice sharpened. “I assume you know or you wouldn’t be calling.”
Vain woman. As if he would care about her daily comings and goings. “Meaning?” he growled.
“I’m talking to Todd,” she said sweetly, as if that was f**king normal, everyday business. For a brief moment, he wondered if it was.
“Let me talk to him.”
“Why?” She was irritated, the emotion seeping into my voice.
“Because I need to, and he left his cell phone here.”
“Just tell me the message, and I’ll pass it on.”
This woman would be the death of him. He growled into the phone, wanting to punish her in the only way he could think. On her hands and knees, with her sweet mouth begging him for more. Jesus. He was getting hard. His words came out clipped and measured. “Stop being difficult.”
“I just feel like we’ve been here before—the only thing missing is your intimidating self darkening my doorstep.”
That could be fixed. He could go four thousand square feet west and see her, tell her exactly where she could put that sassy mouth. “Just tell him to get his ass back here.” He ended the call, slamming the phone down and striding to the door. He flung it open, catching the attention of the women seated before him, their dignified suits rising to see what it was he needed.
“When Todd gets back, send him in here. Immediately.” He shut the door and paced to his desk, cursing every bone in that delectable woman’s body.
the fight
Four hours later.
Brad ran—through the streets of downtown, weaving and ducking through three-piece suits and haggard crowds. Through neighborhoods his family controlled, streets he had been raised on, through alleys and strip malls, his legs pounding up hills, then coasting down. He breathed easily, his mind clear, peace in his eyes. He finally felt back. In control. Todd was staying away from Julia, he would stay away from Julia, and everything would return to normal. His life back in balance, work and pu**y regaining their appropriate places on his score sheet. He slowed as he turned down his street, pavement turning to cobblestone, towering trees casting his body in shade, large homes set back from the street watching him as he passed. He stopped running, walking the lane of his driveway, stepping up and onto the large back porch, waving to the Mercedes as it pulled in, its confident path leading it into the garage, the doors sliding shut behind it.
He was sitting there, thirty minutes later, a tennis ball in hand, his cell phone positioned in the crook of his neck, when he heard a sound, and looked over his shoulder to see five feet eight inches of furious beauty.
Possessiveness didn’t seem to go over well with Julia. Didn’t make her heart fawn, pale cheeks blush, create oh-lucky-me stars in her eyes. She was pissed and spelled out her emotions clearly, despite the sway in her step and the haze over her eyes.
“You made it very clear that you didn’t want a relationship. Yet you ran off Bob. Yet you told Todd to stay away from me. You are not my father, you are not my boyfriend, you are not my boss. You don’t have the right to f**k with my life!”
So Todd had told her. Not that he was surprised. Based on the look she was giving him, she seemed capable of strangling the information out of a man. He stepped closer, close enough to smell her, his eyes roaming appreciatively over her skin, cataloguing every line, curve, quiver of her breath. It had been over two weeks. He had almost forgotten how incredible she was. “Do you like Todd this much? Is that what this is about?” His eyes watched her closely, very interested in her response. She couldn’t like him—not that boy who skipped between offices, his innocence practically painted on like a billboard sign. Todd wasn’t good enough, strong enough, or man enough for her.
“That’s not the point. The point is if I did really like Todd, or Bob, or someone else, I don’t need you walking around, scaring the hell outta people. That’s not your place. It’s like you don’t want me, and you don’t want anyone else to have me. That’s bullshit, especially because you’re the f**king town slut!”
“Who says I don’t want you?” He stepped forward, the air quivering between them, her eyes dropping, letting him fully examine her without risk of being caught. The flutter in her neck, the swell of her lips, the flush of delicate skin. He suddenly needed to see her eyes, needed a drink of the woman he had been without. His hand forced her chin up, and their eyes met. There was a shake in hers, vulnerability, almond pools of what looked like fear. Then she blinked, and they came to life, a tiger curving through their depths and snarling at him.
She pushed at his hand. “Okay, I misspoke. It’s like you don’t want to date me exclusively. God, I forgot I was talking to an attorney and had to clarify everything.”
“Let’s go to dinner.” He cursed the words as soon as they left his mouth. He had been free of her, and now he was digging his own grave … again. Wrestling his body into rich dirt where he would be eaten alive by scavengers.
“I already ate.” Her stomach growled, and her eyes dared him to mention it.
“Then tomorrow night.”
“I already have plans.”
Her quick response gave him pause. Maybe it wasn’t just Todd he had to worry about. He tightened his hands, balling them into fists. Fine. He had asked; she had answered. He stepped away, giving his lungs time to recharge, to recover from the erotic impact that was Julia Campbell’s scent. He heard her on the phone, and looked up when she finished.
“My friend’s picking me up.”
He answered without thinking, his words careless, given her volatile state. “A guy or a girl friend?”
She threw her phone at him, a pathetic throw, and one he avoided easily. He laughed, her temper entertaining, and watched her eyes glitter; her body tightened with fury as she picked up the phone, then marched over to the driveway and headed back to the front of the house.
He controlled his laughter, jogging up to her, her heels skittering on the cobblestone drive, his arms catching her twice when she stumbled. She forged on, ungrateful for the saves, her focus on the front porch, which she flung her butt down on without a second glance at him.
He moved in front of her seated form, her arms tight around her legs, her face stubbornly avoiding his.
“Look, I’m sorry I said anything to Todd. That wasn’t my place.” The words caught in his throat, then wormed their way through his vocal cords and out of his mouth. He didn’t know why he was apologizing to this woman. He should be back inside, in the cool air of his home, banging the shit out of the blonde in his bed. He wasn’t sorry for speaking to Todd. She had no business going out with him. No business wasting her time on a child. And, if he could have it his way, she wouldn’t waste her time with anyone but him.
“And to Bob.”
“And to Bob. Though I didn’t really say anything to Bob.” No, that weakling had run out of her life with one stern glance from Brad.
She grumbled through her purse. “No, you just sucked all the air out of my office and stared him down like he was a rogue agent.”
Brad sighed and sat down on the step. He wanted to take her in his arms and hold her. For no other reason than he felt like an ass and she was there. Despite his personal attraction to her, he shouldn’t have spoken to Todd—should have let their possible relationship play out, and stayed on task, continued working. Then he wouldn’t have opened this box, wouldn’t have her at his house, a foot away, her presence invading and wiping his brain clear of rational thoughts. Reminding him of what he didn’t have, and couldn’t control.
She spoke again, her words taking a new direction. “And you told Todd that fraternizing with coworkers was bad business? What about f**king clients? Did you include that in your business advice? And you can’t even talk about fraternizing with coworkers! Seriously, did you choke on your own bullshit?”
His jaw tightened, anger flooding through him. “Okay, Julia, you’ve made your point—I’m an asshole. I was out of line. I have apologized. I’m not going to sit here and have you chastise me like I’m a child. I’m not used to not getting what I want. I’m not used to being told I can’t have something. I’m sorry if it pissed me off to see someone else getting you so easily.” He stood up. Fuck this. Fuck this girl who made bullshit come from his mouth. Fuck her small body following him, grabbing his arm, her proximity making him hard.
“I’m not a f**king object! I’m not something that you can choose to have, or choose to toss away. Does it even matter to you what I want?”
He looked down at her hand, which gripped his bicep, wanting to remove it, to break the hold that she had on him. Then he looked at her eyes, the mere connection with them causing his breath to catch, weakness to clutch his heart and squeeze it tight.
“What is it you want?” he asked, emotions he didn’t know he had coming through his voice. “What do you want from me? You want me to spend a weekend with you, have you na**d against me, your smile, your laugh, and then just cut you off? Kiss you goodbye and then let anyone else have you? You want me to sit in my office and watch Todd ask you out? I’m not engineered that way. Maybe I am a territorial slut, as you put it. That might seem f**ked up, but it’s who I am. I take what I want, and I own what I have. I’m just trying to figure out what you want.”
He despised the words leaving his mouth, hating the way they made him feel. Exposed. Open. By a girl who didn’t weigh more than his cock. A girl who stared at him with intensity, who pushed buttons he didn’t know he had, and had wormed her way inside a part of him that should be closed.
“I don’t want a f**k buddy, much less to be owned by one.” She released his arm and stepped back, heading to a jeep that idled by the curb.
He said nothing, letting her go, hoping against his heart that he would never see her again.
He strode inside, letting the door bang shut, taking the stairs two at a time. Pulling his shirt over his head as he walked through the bedroom, into the bath, he yanked open the shower door, glowering at the wet blonde who stood inside. “On the bed. Now,” he ordered, jerking the band of his shorts and dropping them on the floor. “I need to f**k right now more than I need to breathe.”
the problem
He fought the thought of her. Fought it the next morning as he told Todd Appleton to f**k the hell out of her if he wanted. Fought it as he pulled in each day and avoided looking at her car.
It was for the best that it hadn’t gone anywhere. He needed to think of it as an interesting experiment, one he was lucky to get through unscathed. But she had gotten under his skin. Worked her sassy way under and settled in, pulling on his heart strings like a master puppeteer, whenever her easy grin and confident eyes felt like it. He needed a distraction, and selected one with strawberry blonde hair and blue eyes, bubbly and perky enough to pull his head away from Julia and put it back where it belonged. On work, on bachelorhood. On his life as he knew it, without the disruption or headache of a relationship. Because a relationship wasn’t what he, his heart, or his peace of mind, needed. Fuck what he wanted.
He had spelled it out in Vegas. Explained to her how he regarded sex. As entertainment, joint pleasure. How stock shouldn’t be put in the act, how relationships shouldn’t form just because of a sexual connection. He had told her that he couldn’t be a boyfriend, couldn’t be what she wanted or needed in a man.
But she should still be texting, emailing, calling, begging for more of him, especially when he had delivered more than any partner before, with both his mouth and his cock.
Instead, silence. She was doing godknowswhat with godsknowswhom and not giving him a second thought. It was maddening, made even worse by his realization that he had noticed the slight. He stood, tossing a twenty on the bar and headed home.
competition
Ten days later.
Brad stood at the conference room table, bent over, signing documents as they were presented, a flurry of pages before him.
Flip.
Sign.
Flip.
Sign.
The woman on his left notarized, the woman to her left witnessed, and the stack moved, page after page, motion after motion. He heard, through the open door, a conversation occurring in the lobby and paused, halfway through a signature.
“Naw, they finished up. Word is Broward is closing the West Wing down early, letting everyone off at five.”
“About damn time. Let’s go out tonight, the group of us. I’ll invite Julia.”
“You get a piece of that yet?”
“No, not yet. I’ll run over there now and make sure she comes.”
He tilted his head, listening as the pair moved on, the sounds of the office reentering his subconscious, his attention returning to the monotonous task before him, his mind turning, moving without his control in a direction he knew was dangerous.
He straightened, setting down the pen and walking to his office, shutting the door before picking up his phone. Back in the conference room, the women exchanged confused looks.
She answered quickly, a lilt in her tone, no sign of mourning or anguish in her greeting. “Julia Campbell.”
“What are you doing?” He aimed for a manner that was casual, just-calling-to-chat, but the words came out rough, uncivilized. He took a deep breath, loosening his tie, and willing the anger in his body to cool.
“Just sitting here.”
“With who?” He bit out the words, wanting her in front of him. Wanting to push her back on his desk and see the vigor in her eyes.
Her voice sharpened. “I assume you know or you wouldn’t be calling.”
Vain woman. As if he would care about her daily comings and goings. “Meaning?” he growled.
“I’m talking to Todd,” she said sweetly, as if that was f**king normal, everyday business. For a brief moment, he wondered if it was.
“Let me talk to him.”
“Why?” She was irritated, the emotion seeping into my voice.
“Because I need to, and he left his cell phone here.”
“Just tell me the message, and I’ll pass it on.”
This woman would be the death of him. He growled into the phone, wanting to punish her in the only way he could think. On her hands and knees, with her sweet mouth begging him for more. Jesus. He was getting hard. His words came out clipped and measured. “Stop being difficult.”
“I just feel like we’ve been here before—the only thing missing is your intimidating self darkening my doorstep.”
That could be fixed. He could go four thousand square feet west and see her, tell her exactly where she could put that sassy mouth. “Just tell him to get his ass back here.” He ended the call, slamming the phone down and striding to the door. He flung it open, catching the attention of the women seated before him, their dignified suits rising to see what it was he needed.
“When Todd gets back, send him in here. Immediately.” He shut the door and paced to his desk, cursing every bone in that delectable woman’s body.
the fight
Four hours later.
Brad ran—through the streets of downtown, weaving and ducking through three-piece suits and haggard crowds. Through neighborhoods his family controlled, streets he had been raised on, through alleys and strip malls, his legs pounding up hills, then coasting down. He breathed easily, his mind clear, peace in his eyes. He finally felt back. In control. Todd was staying away from Julia, he would stay away from Julia, and everything would return to normal. His life back in balance, work and pu**y regaining their appropriate places on his score sheet. He slowed as he turned down his street, pavement turning to cobblestone, towering trees casting his body in shade, large homes set back from the street watching him as he passed. He stopped running, walking the lane of his driveway, stepping up and onto the large back porch, waving to the Mercedes as it pulled in, its confident path leading it into the garage, the doors sliding shut behind it.
He was sitting there, thirty minutes later, a tennis ball in hand, his cell phone positioned in the crook of his neck, when he heard a sound, and looked over his shoulder to see five feet eight inches of furious beauty.
Possessiveness didn’t seem to go over well with Julia. Didn’t make her heart fawn, pale cheeks blush, create oh-lucky-me stars in her eyes. She was pissed and spelled out her emotions clearly, despite the sway in her step and the haze over her eyes.
“You made it very clear that you didn’t want a relationship. Yet you ran off Bob. Yet you told Todd to stay away from me. You are not my father, you are not my boyfriend, you are not my boss. You don’t have the right to f**k with my life!”
So Todd had told her. Not that he was surprised. Based on the look she was giving him, she seemed capable of strangling the information out of a man. He stepped closer, close enough to smell her, his eyes roaming appreciatively over her skin, cataloguing every line, curve, quiver of her breath. It had been over two weeks. He had almost forgotten how incredible she was. “Do you like Todd this much? Is that what this is about?” His eyes watched her closely, very interested in her response. She couldn’t like him—not that boy who skipped between offices, his innocence practically painted on like a billboard sign. Todd wasn’t good enough, strong enough, or man enough for her.
“That’s not the point. The point is if I did really like Todd, or Bob, or someone else, I don’t need you walking around, scaring the hell outta people. That’s not your place. It’s like you don’t want me, and you don’t want anyone else to have me. That’s bullshit, especially because you’re the f**king town slut!”
“Who says I don’t want you?” He stepped forward, the air quivering between them, her eyes dropping, letting him fully examine her without risk of being caught. The flutter in her neck, the swell of her lips, the flush of delicate skin. He suddenly needed to see her eyes, needed a drink of the woman he had been without. His hand forced her chin up, and their eyes met. There was a shake in hers, vulnerability, almond pools of what looked like fear. Then she blinked, and they came to life, a tiger curving through their depths and snarling at him.
She pushed at his hand. “Okay, I misspoke. It’s like you don’t want to date me exclusively. God, I forgot I was talking to an attorney and had to clarify everything.”
“Let’s go to dinner.” He cursed the words as soon as they left his mouth. He had been free of her, and now he was digging his own grave … again. Wrestling his body into rich dirt where he would be eaten alive by scavengers.
“I already ate.” Her stomach growled, and her eyes dared him to mention it.
“Then tomorrow night.”
“I already have plans.”
Her quick response gave him pause. Maybe it wasn’t just Todd he had to worry about. He tightened his hands, balling them into fists. Fine. He had asked; she had answered. He stepped away, giving his lungs time to recharge, to recover from the erotic impact that was Julia Campbell’s scent. He heard her on the phone, and looked up when she finished.
“My friend’s picking me up.”
He answered without thinking, his words careless, given her volatile state. “A guy or a girl friend?”
She threw her phone at him, a pathetic throw, and one he avoided easily. He laughed, her temper entertaining, and watched her eyes glitter; her body tightened with fury as she picked up the phone, then marched over to the driveway and headed back to the front of the house.
He controlled his laughter, jogging up to her, her heels skittering on the cobblestone drive, his arms catching her twice when she stumbled. She forged on, ungrateful for the saves, her focus on the front porch, which she flung her butt down on without a second glance at him.
He moved in front of her seated form, her arms tight around her legs, her face stubbornly avoiding his.
“Look, I’m sorry I said anything to Todd. That wasn’t my place.” The words caught in his throat, then wormed their way through his vocal cords and out of his mouth. He didn’t know why he was apologizing to this woman. He should be back inside, in the cool air of his home, banging the shit out of the blonde in his bed. He wasn’t sorry for speaking to Todd. She had no business going out with him. No business wasting her time on a child. And, if he could have it his way, she wouldn’t waste her time with anyone but him.
“And to Bob.”
“And to Bob. Though I didn’t really say anything to Bob.” No, that weakling had run out of her life with one stern glance from Brad.
She grumbled through her purse. “No, you just sucked all the air out of my office and stared him down like he was a rogue agent.”
Brad sighed and sat down on the step. He wanted to take her in his arms and hold her. For no other reason than he felt like an ass and she was there. Despite his personal attraction to her, he shouldn’t have spoken to Todd—should have let their possible relationship play out, and stayed on task, continued working. Then he wouldn’t have opened this box, wouldn’t have her at his house, a foot away, her presence invading and wiping his brain clear of rational thoughts. Reminding him of what he didn’t have, and couldn’t control.
She spoke again, her words taking a new direction. “And you told Todd that fraternizing with coworkers was bad business? What about f**king clients? Did you include that in your business advice? And you can’t even talk about fraternizing with coworkers! Seriously, did you choke on your own bullshit?”
His jaw tightened, anger flooding through him. “Okay, Julia, you’ve made your point—I’m an asshole. I was out of line. I have apologized. I’m not going to sit here and have you chastise me like I’m a child. I’m not used to not getting what I want. I’m not used to being told I can’t have something. I’m sorry if it pissed me off to see someone else getting you so easily.” He stood up. Fuck this. Fuck this girl who made bullshit come from his mouth. Fuck her small body following him, grabbing his arm, her proximity making him hard.
“I’m not a f**king object! I’m not something that you can choose to have, or choose to toss away. Does it even matter to you what I want?”
He looked down at her hand, which gripped his bicep, wanting to remove it, to break the hold that she had on him. Then he looked at her eyes, the mere connection with them causing his breath to catch, weakness to clutch his heart and squeeze it tight.
“What is it you want?” he asked, emotions he didn’t know he had coming through his voice. “What do you want from me? You want me to spend a weekend with you, have you na**d against me, your smile, your laugh, and then just cut you off? Kiss you goodbye and then let anyone else have you? You want me to sit in my office and watch Todd ask you out? I’m not engineered that way. Maybe I am a territorial slut, as you put it. That might seem f**ked up, but it’s who I am. I take what I want, and I own what I have. I’m just trying to figure out what you want.”
He despised the words leaving his mouth, hating the way they made him feel. Exposed. Open. By a girl who didn’t weigh more than his cock. A girl who stared at him with intensity, who pushed buttons he didn’t know he had, and had wormed her way inside a part of him that should be closed.
“I don’t want a f**k buddy, much less to be owned by one.” She released his arm and stepped back, heading to a jeep that idled by the curb.
He said nothing, letting her go, hoping against his heart that he would never see her again.
He strode inside, letting the door bang shut, taking the stairs two at a time. Pulling his shirt over his head as he walked through the bedroom, into the bath, he yanked open the shower door, glowering at the wet blonde who stood inside. “On the bed. Now,” he ordered, jerking the band of his shorts and dropping them on the floor. “I need to f**k right now more than I need to breathe.”
the problem
He fought the thought of her. Fought it the next morning as he told Todd Appleton to f**k the hell out of her if he wanted. Fought it as he pulled in each day and avoided looking at her car.
It was for the best that it hadn’t gone anywhere. He needed to think of it as an interesting experiment, one he was lucky to get through unscathed. But she had gotten under his skin. Worked her sassy way under and settled in, pulling on his heart strings like a master puppeteer, whenever her easy grin and confident eyes felt like it. He needed a distraction, and selected one with strawberry blonde hair and blue eyes, bubbly and perky enough to pull his head away from Julia and put it back where it belonged. On work, on bachelorhood. On his life as he knew it, without the disruption or headache of a relationship. Because a relationship wasn’t what he, his heart, or his peace of mind, needed. Fuck what he wanted.
