Rock Hard Love (4 page)

“Monica!
Looking good,” James exclaimed, gave the woman a big hug and lifted her from the floor.

“James, nice to see you,” she greeted us
after the big hug and then added, “Nice to meet you, Miss Navarro,” and extended her hand.

“Thank you,
” I said, shaking the woman’s hand and feeling like some kind of movie star or something. What the heck was going on? She sat us in a private room near the back of the main dining room. Just James and I seated at a table big enough for a dozen people, James at the head and me to his left. Still the room had an intimate feel. The walls were dark wood with several pieces of modern art hanging on the walls, a fireplace with a small log burning and a single guitar in a glass case. I lingered on the guitar for a moment wondering why a place like this would have a guitar as decor.

“That belonged to a friend.
He was killed in a plane crash traveling to a show. His wife gave it to me,” James remarked seeing my interest.

“I’m sorry,” I said.
Again, James showed a softer, sentimental side like when he pet his truck proudly.

“Shit happens and life goes on,” James mused as if he didn’t want to dwell.
We read over the menus in silence until Monica returned to take our order. I ordered a petite filet and James ordered a bone-in ribeye steak. James took control of the rest of the order, however.

“A heaping side of mac and cheese,
grilled mushrooms and uh…how about some of the sweet potato fries,” he told Monica. I found the side dishes odd for such an upscale restaurant. Mac and cheese? Really?

“Drinks?” she asked.

“I’ll take a Coke. What about you, Simone?” James asked me. I expected him to get a beer or maybe a cocktail, but then I remembered Peter telling me he was a recovering alcoholic.

“Just water with lemon,”
I said. I wasn’t much of a drinker anyway.

“You sure?”
James asked.

“Yes, thanks,” I replied. He shrugged and
Monica left us. I assumed he came here a lot because they all knew him. I was still surprised they knew me. They took us immediately to this private room and so I guessed he had made reservations and told them my name. Nevertheless, I was flattered by the thoughtfulness.

“You know, you could have ordered some wine or something,”
James offered. I wasn’t sure if he was just telling me it was an option or if it was his way of letting me know I could drink even if he didn’t. Then he added, “You’re paying after all.”

“What?” I asked.
I was paying? I guess I was the agent and he was the client. That’s how it was usually done. The agent usually bought for the clients. Peter told me it used to be a rule when Samuel Roland was alive but Victoria had abolished it to save money. However, it never occurred to me since James had asked me out.

“Fraulein Vicky gave you an expense account, didn
’t she? I’m guessing that’s a no by the look on your face. Well, I’m sure you can submit the receipt and get reimbursed or something,” James told me. I saw the prices on the menu and my credit card might be able to withstand the bill. Maybe. I know James could tell I wasn’t prepared for this, probably because the blood drained from my face. “Problem?” he asked.

“No, I…um…,” I stammered as he began to laugh.
I frowned as he seemed to take delight in my dilemma but James was just laughing at his own joke as it turned out.

“Don’t sweat it.
You really don’t know anything about me, do you?” he asked. My frown turned to confusion.

“I know a little.
I know what Peter told me,” I said in my defense though it was pretty weak.

“
Well, Pete didn’t tell you much. I own this place. Dinner’s on me, little girl. I thought you might have figured it out when I told you about the guitar or when everyone knew my name or when I ordered my favorite sides from the menu I helped design. But you wouldn’t know that would you?” he mocked and laughed again. I suppose I should have guessed but still I didn’t like him laughing at me.

“You’re kind of an ass, you know that,” I said. He had me squirming pretty
good and he could have just told me he owned the restaurant. Was he trying to piss me off or just keep me off balance?

“
Mmm, there’s the fire I like,” James said with a smoldering look in his eye that sent tingles straight to my core.

“Do you enjoy teasing me to get me angry?” I asked tersely ignoring the excitement between my thighs.
His face went serious as he hooked his leather boot around the leg of my chair and slid it across the tile floor towards him. I grabbed the seat to keep from tumbling to the floor. James leaned close and I felt my breath catch in my throat.

“I’m going to enjoy so much more than teasing you,” he said in a low whisper as his hand found my
bare knee and worked its way under the hem of my skirt. I sighed despite myself as this man, this agonizing, abrasive man, touched me and I suddenly wanted him never to stop. His hand squeezed my inner thigh, just short of my panties, and he kissed me ever so softly. For a moment, there was nothing but his lips and his hand but after the initial shock wore off, my defenses kicked in.

“What do you think you’re doing?” I
asked as I pulled away and pushed his hand from my leg. I wanted him to kiss me again and touch more than my thigh but I was scared. I’d never felt the way I did as he touched me. My heart felt as if it might beat right out of my chest and my panties were surely soaked. James laughed softly.

“Yeah, I do like your fiery side.
You come off as some innocent farm girl from the sticks but I know there’s more inside. I can sense you’re just aching to let loose and I’m the man that’s going to set you free, little girl,” he said as he pushed my chair away to where it belonged. I was pissed or turned on beyond belief, I wasn’t sure which.

“I’m not some groupie.
You can’t just assume I’m going to jump into bed with you. I’m not attracted to men like you. I’m not some whore that will just peel her clothes off and submit to the egomaniac rock star. And stop calling me little girl,” I replied as sternly as I could muster but every word was a lie. Against my nature, contrary to everything I believed about myself, I wanted nothing more than to be nude for James and let him have his way with me. I was dying to let loose and do things with James I’d never even dared to dream of before. I did want to be his whore and do anything he asked. Nevertheless, I wasn’t ready for that and it was as if James could read my mind.

“You’re not ready
...not yet. Nevertheless, inside you’re all those things. I can see past your prim and proper exterior. I’m going to bring out your wild side, little girl. Mark my words,” he said ignoring my request and everything else that I’d said. I was hot, flushed and my breathing was fast and ragged. I wanted it to be anger. I wanted to hate him, to slap his face and walk out of the restaurant. However, it wasn’t anger and I didn’t leave. Thankfully, the chef walked in and I never had to find out if I had any self-control left at my disposal.

~5~

“James, so good to see you,” the chef said. I assumed he was the chef by the white clothes and tall cylindrical hat. He was on the portly side, maybe fifty-five years old and wore a full beard that was greying.

“Hey, Lyle.
How’s the kitchen treating you?” James asked and rose to hug the man.

“Same as usual.
I can’t stop sampling my own creations,” he said and pat his round belly. Both men laughed but I wasn’t in the mood to join in after James’ advance. As I sat there watching the two men reminisce, my arousal waned and turned slowly to anger. I couldn’t believe he touched me like that. He didn’t ask and I never gave him permission. Lyle turned towards me, took my hand and kissed it causing me to put my thoughts aside.

“And you must be Simone.
I’ve selected the best filet in the house for you,” he said as I tried to appear jovial. Then still holding my hand he turned to James and said, “She’s lovely, my friend. My compliments,” as if James and I were an item. Monica returned with our drinks and Lyle told us he wished he could stay and chat but the kitchen beckoned. Lyle and Monica both took their leave and James sat back down. I stared at him and I could feel my temper boil. It seemed that I was either sexually aroused or angry when I was around James and right then I was definitely both.

“Just who do you think you are?
I don’t care if you’re a rock star or the prince of Persia. Keep your hands off me. I’m not your girlfriend and I won’t ever be. I’ve got to stay here since you’re the client, but that’s the only reason. I like my job and I swear I’m going to be the best damn agent you’ve ever seen. Victoria can shove her threats up her tight, little ass. Spoiled rotten bitch!” I ranted, letting all my frustration of the past day out, and then I kicked James in the shin for good measure.

“Ouch! Damn, you’re sexy when
you’re mad,” James said chuckling and then looked at me seriously. God, his eyes were so sexy. “Fine, I won’t push it. I’ll keep it all business,” he said but before I could reply he added, “But it won’t be long before you’ll be begging me to fuck you good and hard. And I will, heavy metal blaring in the background, you naked underneath me and coming like the sexy, fiery goddess you are. I didn’t ask Victoria to make you my agent because of your skills, at least not just your negotiating skills, which by the way I think are going to be fantastic. No, I asked so I could be close to you. I asked because I want you like I’ve never wanted a woman before,” James explained.

I was speechless.
Why didn’t I see it? He did this to get into my panties. Part of me was repulsed and offended. I was naive enough to believe it might have been my skills, though I honestly had few to speak of. No, it was my body he wanted and though I hated to admit it, that was exciting beyond words. I’m not sure a man had ever wanted me like that or had the guts to tell me if he did. I had no idea why he wanted me badly enough to order Victoria to assign me to service his account, but it was thrilling nevertheless.

Honestly, I wasn’t anything special.
In Idaho, I might have been considered beautiful but in Los Angeles, I was plain at best. This town was full of women that made me look more like a teenage boy than anything else. I had a nice figure and I worked hard to keep it that way. I was your typical girl next door, a small town beauty, chestnut hair, an average build and smallish but perky breasts. Sure, I was pretty, but I couldn’t compete with the tanned, plastic girls around here and James could have his pick.

However, that wasn’t the only thing that bothered me.
I took my job and my career, even though it was in its infancy, seriously. I’d studied hard in college and I loved this kind of work. I looked at this situation as an opportunity, though it was patently unfair to me. I hoped I could swim with the big fish and impress James and Victoria, make Peter proud of me and maybe feel good about myself to boot. As it turns out, however, this was all about James and his desires and libido. He was right; I did feel like a whore suddenly. Was I the only one foolish enough to take this all seriously?

“Fuck you, James Turner,” I said totally out of character. I was mad and hurt and wa
nted nothing more than to leave but I wasn’t going to. I had a job to do. Whether James took me seriously or not, I was going to be the best agent he’d ever had. He might not care, but I did and I was going to do this for me. I was determined to show everyone that I wasn’t just a pawn in their stupid games. Hopefully, James would get tired of me and move onto some other girl so I could just do my job and forget about him. At least I hoped I could forget about him.

James didn’t respond, only sipping his Coke as he reclined in his chair.
He wore a self-satisfied smile on his face as he stroked his wild goatee. As quickly as my tempered flared, it was gone. It was hard to find and always short-lived. I almost regretted saying those things but James deserved them. Sometimes I wish I could just be a bitch and not worry about it, but I always felt guilty after my temper faded. “I’m sorry for saying that,” I offered sheepishly.

“Hey, I’m an easy going guy. I used to get
all uptight about stuff but life’s short. You’re forgiven,” he said. Now I was apologizing and begging forgiveness while James was the one taking advantage of the situation. He was the one pawing at me. I sighed and let it go. Whatever. He was the client and I suppose he got a little grace. He didn’t deserve it but he was going to get it. I was pretty sure I’d meet a lot of egomaniacs in this business and I had better get used to it.

“Thanks,” I
replied, as a good agent should. Monica brought our food and it was amazing. I was thankful for the distraction. My filet was perfect and the mac and cheese was to die for. I mean it. It was creamy, rich and darn near orgasm inducing, though I had far too few good orgasms to compare it to. The food took the edge off and helped me relax. After I was done, I’m not sure anything James said could have upset me. I hadn’t been fed that well in months, maybe since the last time I was home.

“So, you ready for dessert?” James asked.
I glared at him expecting another pass at me but James added, “Lyle makes a kickass cheesecake.” I relaxed and shook my head.

“No, I don’t think I can eat another bite.
That’s sounds good though,” I replied.