Overtime Play

Overtime Play

by

Kasey Moone

Overtime Play

Damn, damn, damn
! Mira Perrin leaped into a nearby aisle at the first sight of her sexy boss, Jeremy Rain. There were plenty of stores on the glitzy Atlanta strip that suited his expensive tastes. But no, no, no, he just had to make an appearance at The Dollar Place, the nightshift job that helped her pay the bills.

For an entire year, she’d worked as a file clerk at the radio station he owned, filing papers in the large, downtown office. Dealing with inflated egos and bossy producers. She would’ve quit a long time ago, but she couldn’t afford to behave recklessly now. She had her uncle to think about. He needed help paying for his expensive medication, and dammit, she wouldn’t let him down!

She crouched down next to the shelf and peered around the corner. He stood in the next aisle shuffling through a handful of children’s notebooks. She pinched her lips together as she regarded him. He looked so damn good.

Tall, muscled, and fine. Dirty blond hair fell around a lean face that held intense, hazel eyes. A slightly crooked nose sat above pink, sensual lips. With his high cheekbones and slashing golden eyebrows, he could only be described as a pretty boy. The kind her momma warned her about.

Her head craned up. Even though the shelves were the standard six feet, he managed to tower over them like a superhuman. The man was huge. Muscle-ripped to the core. He belonged on a rig somewhere, doing blue-collar work, not sitting behind a desk pushing papers. Mira let loose a girly sigh. She wished she was drop dead gorgeous like the broads he brought into work. Not a frumpy, size fourteen chick.

Chill out, girl. So what if you got a little more junk in your trunk? You’re still as fine as wine.

“I wish you were mine, Jeremy Rain, just this once.”

He turned. Squealing loudly, she scurried back in the aisle, where she collided into bony legs. She looked up to see Roger Denkins, the manager of The Dollar Place, and scrambled to her feet.

“Roger! I was just straightening the plastic containers.” Her fingers flew to the rubber food bowls in an effort to look busy. “You know these customers. They love rearranging the containers.”

Roger gawked at her. “You need to watch yourself, Mira,” he ground out harshly, wiping dust from his slacks. “You’re too clumsy. This store is small enough.”

Mira offered him her best smile. “Yes, I know. Was there anything else, Roger?”

She braced herself for his reply. Roger Denkins. The worst boss on the planet.

“I need you to restock merchandise on aisle seven,” he barked, eyeing her suspiciously. “I need this done ASAP.”

“I’m on it.”

“After that, there are boxes in the back that need to be unloaded.” At the thought of working in the stuffy, dark room, she mentally gagged.

“Aren’t the stock boys doing that tonight?”

“Well, they need a little help, and the others are busy in the front, so that leaves you.” A smile lit up his pimpled face. “You’re a big girl, Mira. You should be able to help the boys back there.”

“Fine,” she managed, her temper close to the surface.

“After that, I need you to work on the coupon books up front. They have to be ready by this weekend. It’ll be Memorial Day.”

“Preparing for Armageddon, sir?”

She meant it as a joke, but Roger glared. “Ms. Perrin, I take my job very seriously…” He took a step forward. Then another, the stench of pepperoni and tobacco following him like a dark cloud. “Some of us care about our careers.”

She blinked. What was he trying to say? That she didn’t work her ass off? She suppressed a growl and gave him the evil eye. “I care, too.”

“Then show it.”

“I am.”

“Then stop giving me attitude.”

“I’m not.”

“You are,” he spat, mouth set in a cruel line.

Determined to hold her ground, she responded forcefully, “I’m not.”

“You are.”

“Stop being such an—” She clapped a hand over her mouth, thanking the gods for her quick reflexes. Her pouty mouth was a major pain in the butt sometimes.

Roger moved closer. “What was that?”

To keep from responding, she bit her tongue.

“Ms. Perrin, you were about to say something?” He folded his arms across his beer belly. A smug look enlivened his face.

Fuming, she remained silent. Great. Now she had to listen to the jerk’s career advice on top of everything else? Could her night get any worse? For a moment, she seriously thought about kneeing him in the nut sac, but opted for a tongue lashing instead. Something told her that if she gave in to violence, he’d be laid up in a hospital for weeks. She opened her mouth to tell him where he could shove his
advice
—

“Lay off the lady.”

At the sound of Jeremy’s husky voice, Mira froze. This was not happening to her. Jeremy Rain was not defending her against Roger Denkins. She’d laugh at the irony, if she wasn’t so embarrassed. Why couldn’t he just mind his own damn business? It was bad enough that he invaded her thoughts every moment of the day at her daytime job. Now he had to torture her at The Dollar Place, too? Perfect.

She spoke over her shoulder. “Sir, I have this under control.”

Suddenly he was leaning beside her ear, speaking very slowly and very clearly, as though she was hard of hearing. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Mira swallowed. Heat rose on her face. And between her legs. She wondered what would happen if she leaned back. Would he wrap those big strong arms around her? Would his orders grow harsher by the minute? Nastier? The thought felt outrageously good.

No, no, no. Don’t go there, girl!

She took a deep breath and mentally untangled herself from the fantasy. She didn’t need Jeremy to defend her. She could handle Roger on her own, dammit. “Look Roger, I’m on my way to aisle seven.”

Roger’s expression turned severe as he looked above her head. “Call off your dog, Ms. Perrin.”

Jeremy growled loudly. “Apologize to her.”

“Excuse me?” spluttered Roger, outrage flashing across his red face. “Who do you think you are?”

“Apologize.”

Mira cleared her throat. “Please, let’s not get all worked up. I’ll get back to work, Roger.”

“No,” Jeremy whispered. “You’ll do no such thing.”

Shocked beyond words, she spun around to face him and immediately caught her breath. In all of her fantasies of him, she’d never been so close to the “goods” before. He was pure man—sun-warmed bronze skin, bulging biceps, and a strong stubborn chin. If the phrase “sex on a stick” needed a poster boy, he should apply, since he was all that and then some. Her nipples burned and puckered, wanting his tongue to lap at them, as a warm pool of liquid gathered between her thighs. The green uniform she’d grown accustomed to suddenly felt hot on her skin. She longed to rip it off, to rub her aching nipples against his hard, lean body in an effort to satisfy her ever-growing desire for him. She looked up. And up. And met Jeremy’s penetrating eyes.

“I can handle this, mister.”

Bright hazel eyes, so mesmerizing, stared at her intensely. No recognition shown in them. No whisper of familiarity. Just complete and utter indifference. Despite herself, Mira sighed. She couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. A part of her wanted him to recognize her from the station, wanted him to acknowledge her presence, just this once.

Oh, get real, she thought bitterly. Who was she kidding? Of course, Jeremy Rain wouldn’t recognize her. He owned a handful of successful media stations and partied with celebrities every weekend. He didn’t have to talk to the little people.

She searched his face. “I can handle this.”

“Can you now?”

Her micro braids tumbled around her shoulders as she nodded her head. “Yes, I can.”

“You heard her, pal,” snickered Roger. “Fuck off.”

Jeremy’s big body tensed. He arched an eyebrow in Roger’s direction. “What happened to the customer always being right?”

“You ain’t right tonight.”

Jeremy studied him coldly. “I’ll have to educate you.”

As though he was flicking away a bothersome mosquito, Jeremy wiggled a finger in Roger’s direction, which sent her boss tumbling into the castle of containers. His arms and legs bobbled around, desperately trying to regain balance. But it was no use. A fall was a fall. He landed hard, a befuddled look transforming his features to that of a sniveling, snotty kid. Crawling and squirming, he flung containers aside and muttered vicious curses beneath his breath. Mira found it hard to suppress her laughter. Served him right, the ass.

“Mira,” he hollered. “Help me up!”

“She’ll do no such thing,” replied Jeremy. “She quits.”

Bewildered, Mira stuttered. “I-I-I quit?”

“Yes,” parroted Jeremy. “You quit.”

Knee-deep in the sea of containers, Roger threw up his hands in frustration. “Fine. Good riddance.”

“No,” she replied, snapping out of her momentarily daze. This was not happening. This was just a bad, bad dream. “I didn’t say I quit. You misheard.”

“I heard you loud and clear,” Roger said, rising on wobbly feet, flashing her a nasty glare. “I want you out of this place in fifteen minutes!”

She opened her mouth to plead with Roger to show mercy, but it was too late. He was already hurrying down the corridor. Off to make another employee’s life miserable no doubt.

Mira covered her face with her hands and groaned. Why, oh, why did these things happen to her? Couldn’t she catch a break for once in her tired, broke, sex-starved life?

She turned to Jeremy. “You just got me fired, pal.”

He gave her a slow, sexy grin. “Was it really your calling?”

Her anger soared. “How dare you!” She knew she was scowling at one of the most successful business owners in Atlanta. But she didn’t care. The man was not going to screw up her life.

His face suddenly softened a bit. “I’ll hire you.”

Was he nuts?

“You’ll hire me?”

“Sure.”

“You’ll
hire
me?”

“Yes.”

Mira growled. The nerve of the man. She spun around and marched toward the back of the store to get her belongings. If this was going to be her last night at The Dollar Place, she wanted to make a quick exit. All the while, she could hear Jeremy’s footsteps on her trail.

“Did you hear what I said, miss? I’ll hire you.”

When they passed a row of laundry detergent, she seriously thought about dunking his head in one of the boxes but held back. Messing up that pretty face of his would be the ultimate sin. Damn the man!

She took a steadying breath.
For God’s sake, girl, he just got you fired. Stop drooling.

She marched on.

“Don’t get irate,” he said. “I’ll hire you.”

Fed up, she whirled around, her heart pounding with each breath, her mind spiraling in different directions. “That might be difficult to do.”

A grin curved his lips. “It’s not, actually. You see I own a very reputable—”

“I already work for you, Mr. Rain.”

“What?”

“I. Already. Work. For. You.”

At the sight of his shocked expression, she couldn’t help but smile. The know-it-all.

“I’m Mira Perrin. Nice to meet you, sir.”

****

The following day, Jeremy Rain sat behind his desk at Hot ., searching through a stack of employee files. His best friend and producer, Chad Howard, stood in the doorway, laughing. Jeremy looked up and pointed at the door.

“Leave. I have work to do.”

“Why would I leave when your story is just getting good?”

Jeremy sighed and swiveled back in his chair. He never should have told Chad about the woman from last night. Mira Perrin. His employee.

He gritted his teeth. He wasn’t even supposed to be in The Dollar Place. He’d gone because his sister had nagged him about spending less for the drawing supplies his charities requested. But things hadn’t gone as planned. One minute he was looking at a few children’s notebooks, and the next minute he was getting someone fired. He dropped his arm over his eyes and groaned. He was a total dick. It didn’t matter that Ms. Perrin’s boss had behaved like a control freak or that he hated control freaks in charge. It wasn’t his place to step in.