Read Overtime Play Online

Authors: Kasey Moone

Overtime Play (7 page)

The walls seemed to close in around her. What had she done?

That’s simple; you’ve gone and fucked the boss.
Jeremy probably seduced tons of women. Probably had pussy on the brain. She was just another one of his playthings.

After a few moments of stunned reflection, she stood up and exited the room. Then made her way down the long, quiet hall to the elevator. When she entered the lobby, she turned and walked toward the convention center.

For two hours, she waited for Jeremy to finish the charity event, refusing to make a scene. When she finally saw him emerge from the crowd, she pushed herself from the wall and walked toward him. He wore a dark suit jacket and jeans, looking incredibly sexy. A small grin flashed across his face as he spotted her.

“Couldn’t wait until I finished the charity event? Want to go another round?”

She flinched at his words. He might be gorgeous, but he was nothing more than the arrogant asshole she’d first pegged him for being. How could she ever think he had a good heart?

She’d find another way to support Uncle Leo. A way that didn’t involve total humiliation.

Suppressing her tears, she looked him in the eye. “I just came to give you my notice, Mr. Rain.”

He laughed and hugged her in his arms, but she pushed him away. She would not let him deter her from what she had to do.

“What do you mean?”

“I quit.”

Finally realizing she was serious, he straightened, anger whipping across his face. A low growl rumbled from his chest. “What for?”

She shoved the cell phone in his hands, wanting to make an exit as soon as possible. If she didn’t leave, she’d do something stupid.

“You know what the hell I’m talking about,” she snapped, her gaze bouncing off onlookers.

He grabbed her arm. “What happened?”

She wrestled out of his embrace then walked to the elevator, knowing he was following close behind. A group of bystanders eyed them thoughtfully. Though she took a step toward the open elevator doors, Jeremy hustled her into the stairwell, where he pushed her up against a wall and crowded her space.

His hazel eyes bore into her. “What happened?”

“It doesn’t matter,” she said, suddenly feeling incredibly sad. Why couldn’t he just let her go? She meant nothing to him.

He continued to glare at her. “Now you want to be silent,” he snapped. “You usually yak my ears off, parroting me. Tell me what’s the matter.”

She opened her mouth but closed it quickly. She would not give him the satisfaction of arguing with him. Her heart was already breaking. “Leave. Me. Alone.”

He placed a sweet kiss on her lips. “Talk to me.” Then another on her collarbone. “Talk to me.”

Her nipples hardened. Silently, she cursed her body for betraying her.

“I’ll make it better.” He kissed her again. “What do you need?” His voice was a drug, lulling her into his arms. “I’ll give you what you need.”

She suddenly felt light on her feet; she didn’t know whether she was coming or going. Why couldn’t she be with him one last time? Why couldn’t she choose to forget what she’d heard, if only for a moment? She tore at his shirt, running her hands up and down his chest, blinded by her need for him, even if it was all a lie. He yanked her slacks and panties down, and picked her up, so that she straddled his waist. The feel of the cold wall against her back did not cool her desire. Only made her impatient for his touch. She clung to his shoulders as he continued to rain kisses on the side of her neck.

His teeth snapped by her ear. “Sweetheart.”

She closed her eyes at the word, her heart in turmoil. Keeping her back pressed against the wall, he unzipped his pants, sheathed himself with a condom, and lifted her up on his long, thick cock. She screamed at the pressure filling her core. He was so large and beautiful. So much the man she’d always longed for.

Slowly he thrust inside of her, up and down, finding a perfect rhythm. She leaned her head on his warm neck, never wanting this to end. He rode her with urgency. Hot flesh on hot flesh. Higher up the wall. Harder. His massive flesh tearing her in two, grinding her toward the orgasm she yearned for.

She could feel her climax building inside her. Could feel herself plunging over the edge. She groaned and tightened her legs, pulling him deeper, wanting to lose herself completely in the moment.

Like a bolt of lightning, she hit her peak. The breath whooshed from her as she screamed her orgasm. Her pussy walls contracted wildly as she clung to his neck and whimpered his name.

He thrust harder, the sound of his curses echoing in the stairwell as he found his own release.

When it was over, she floated back down to the solid floor, where realty slammed into her. Stunned, she looked at Jeremy, her heart full of pain. Did she have no shame? She’d behaved exactly as he saw her—like a straight-up ho. In the stairwell nonetheless.

“Now let’s talk about what’s bothering you,” he said, grinning ear to ear as he brushed her braids back.

Mira scoffed. Did he think fucking her would make her an agreeable twit? Make her coo and caw like a nitwit? She straightened her clothes and glared at him as he arranged his slacks. She had to protect her heart by making sure he got the message. She had to be a mean bitch for once in her life. “Thanks for one last fuck, Mr. Rain.”

Two things happened simultaneously. There was the look of surprise in his eyes and a hiss from his lips. She gasped when he placed a foot between her legs.

“Are those your parting words?”

Squaring her shoulders, she soldiered on. “What don’t you understand, Mr. Rain? I quit. We’re through. Kapeesh.”

“If you would—”

“You’ve made my life a living hell since the moment I laid eyes on you at The Dollar Place.” She hesitated for a moment, but continued on, fueled by her pain. “First, you get me fired from my job, a job I desperately needed. Then, you make me follow you around this hotel to do your bidding like I’m supposed to be thankful for your generosity. Am I supposed to praise you for your goodwill? I’ve had enough.”

“I thought you enjoyed the work,” he said, tight-lipped.

“You thought wrong. I’m tired of putting up with your bullshit. Making your coffee. Finding your folders. Scheduling your meetings. This has been the longest week of my damn life. The sooner it’s over, the better.” She hurried up the stairs in search for the safety of her room, where she could fall apart alone.

“If you want to go back to the station, that’s fine.”

“No. I want to be done with you and that station—for good.”

“Fine,” he spat, coming up behind her. “If you want to spend the rest of your life working at lousy dollar-hole joints, go ahead, they suit you.”

She whirled around and slapped him hard, the bite of the contact smarting her hand. In all of her years, she had never hit someone. Immediately, she felt sick with shame.

Eyes narrowed, he rubbed at what would become a bruise.

She opened her mouth to apologize, to say anything that would make it all better, but he spoke first. “I’ll send your last check in the mail. Bonus pay and all.”

The mention of the bonus money made her feel dizzy with sadness. Remembering the phone message, she fumbled up the few remaining stairs.

“Keep the money,” she whispered. “Keep it all.”

Exiting the stairwell, she hurried down the hall to her room, telling herself that whatever it took she’d find a way to move on. Come rain or sunshine, she’d forget Jeremy Rain if it was the last thing she did.

****

The following week, snuggled up on her couch, Mira watched another action movie. In the midst of a sword fighting scene, a woman told her best friend of twenty years that she loved him. Mira grabbed the remote control and switched the channel.

“Girl, it’s not worth it! Men are scum!” She viciously clicked the remote control then ate another scoop of her ice cream. Despite herself, for the hundredth time, she thought about Jeremy, who hadn’t contacted her in an entire week. Although she’d basically written him off in Daytona, her heart pinched at the realization that he’d managed to forget her so easily. A bitter laugh escaped her. He hadn’t even blinked when she’d gone to the station to pick up her belongings and apologize for the slap. He’d just walked on by as if she were a ghost. Whatever spark they’d managed to maintain in Daytona was dead. It was officially over.

She raised her fingers to her temple, knowing she looked like a sea monster in her baggy jogging pants and T-shirt, but refusing to give into the urge to change.

Around noon she smiled when Kelly stopped by. Her friend was decked out with the essentials: a sad R&B CD, chocolate fudge ice cream, and candy.

“Damn, girl. You look a mess.”

“Kelly, don’t start,” she mumbled, stuffing her face with another scoop of double fudge ice cream. Of course her friend had to look gorgeous in a peach-colored jacket, cream beige pants, and matching sandals.

“Do you want me to go over there and kick his butt?”

Mira grunted, knowing full well her best friend would actually do it. “No, girl. I’ll be fine.”

“Maybe you misheard the message.”

Mira laughed sadly. “I wish.”

There was no way anyone could misinterpret the message. No way anyone could mistake the full explicit meaning. Her gaze skimmed over Kelly’s worried expression just as the telephone rang.

Uncle Leo’s cheerful voice announced itself on the other line. “Just calling to thank you, child.”

“For what, Unc?”

“The money for the medication. I received it in the mail this morning. You are so thoughtful.”

Mira froze. Goodness, had she been so out of it the last week that she’d sent Uncle’s money early unknowingly? She scanned her kitchen calendar. Nope. His payment wasn’t scheduled to go out until the end of the month. Confused, she stared at Kelly from across the way.

“Uncle, how much is there?”

He laughed merrily. “Didn’t get a chance to look through it all, it’s so big. Mostly hundred dollar bills. Child, you now I like my money in twenties.”

Mira took a steadying breath. “What’s the sender’s address on the envelope, Unc?”

“Not there, but I figured it was from you, child.”

Elated, Mira did her best to contain herself, already thinking about how much she could save if Uncle Leo’s was set for the rest of the year. “Let me call you back, Unc.”

At Kelly’s curious gaze, she hung up the phone and spit out the news. “Someone sent some money to Uncle Leo. Can you believe that? I won’t have to worry about digging into my savings for awhile.”

Her friend smiled at the good tidings. “That’s great, girl. So, who’s the donor?”

“Who do you think?”

Something inside of her, hope perhaps, awakened. It had to have been him. Jeremy. Who else knew about Uncle Leo’s situation? Who else had the funds to send such a large amount? Dammit, she told him that she didn’t need his damn money and, as usual, he’d done what he damned well please. She wanted to hate him for it, but only felt a tremendous sense of gratitude at the kind gesture. Even so, she knew he didn’t want her back. He’d only wanted to ease his conscience somehow. There was no sense contacting the man like a fool. As if sensing her turmoil, her friend spoke up. “Do you love him?”

Mira stilled. Should she tell her best friend the truth? That she was head-over-heels in love with the egotistical man. The admission was too much to bear.

They spoke for a while longer, pretending to lose themselves in conversation about their college days. After Kelly left, Mira found herself sulking in misery. She growled in agitation. She needed to stop wallowing in grief. She needed to get off her ass and find a job.

She fell asleep, dreaming of Jeremy.

****

Jeremy was on the verge of punching his best friend Chad square in the face. Ever since he’d heard his cell phone’s old messages, and learned that Mira had thought he’d paid her off like some John, he’d been putting his friend through the ringer.

Though the other man had apologized profusely, citing that he didn’t know Mira’s duties extended to listening to his personal messages, he was still agitated about the entire situation. He didn’t know who he was more upset at—Chad for leaving such an irresponsible message or Mira for believing it.

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