Not Just A One Night Stand Page 3

  “Gotcha.” Strangely enough, he did.

  With her words in mind, he was able to make a plan. At least that would give him a great start that he didn’t have with Taylor originally. She was not going to be the one regret he had when time turned him into an old man with more remorse than joy and he refused to stare his mortality in the face without every satisfaction he could garner from life first.

  He was pretty sure that based on the itinerary that Taylor left, she was on her way to the Salisbury location today. That was only a hop skip and a jump from where he sat now.

  “After the meeting with development, cancel all appointments I have left today. I’m taking a day off.” He could tell his right hand woman was a bit shocked. Heck, he was too. But if he was going to get her attention, Chandler was sure that he was going to have to step his game up.

  Even at this point he wasn’t sure if he really wanted something more than what he had. But what he was sure of was that if he ever felt the need to have a relationship of that caliber, his body said vote for Taylor. His mind was half way there, as a man of logic, he had a difficult time with the realm of excess emotion. It was not that he lacked refined feeling, but Chandler hated the idea of being a man like his father. The elder Adkins was a wasteful wastrel and could not understand the concept of going without. If his father saw something, someone or anything else he desired there was no amount of money to dear to attain the object for himself.

  Chandler was as far from his father as two people could be and still come from the same stock. He looked like him, enough that when his photo was placed on the wall along the generations of Adkins males even his mother could barely tell the two apart. The only difference was his father’s photo was dated while Chandler wore more current garb.

  That was the main reason Chandler stayed clear from feeling too much. His father vacillated between love and hate every three days. His dad could meet a showgirl in Vegas and marry the woman after ten drinks and bit of pussy. Little wonder that Adkins Sr. had been to the altar ten times in the last twenty years. There was no way that he wanted that for himself. If nothing else, he could be alone and prosper rather than pay alimony like it was child support. Really, his father would pay the alimony and no sooner than he made the final payment was remarried and back at it again.

  For that reason, Chandler preferred to live as he had. There was a sense of clarity when life was logical and well-planned. But somehow, he couldn’t let the beauty go. She had gotten under his skin. Each time his body had joined with hers felt like a vow between them. The chemistry was too strong and volatile to pretend as if it was nothing more than lust. He was certain that he could learn to like permanence and roots to another if it was her.

  Was this what his father had chased all of these years and failed so miserably to find?

  Chapter Three: Stalker-rific

  Taylor was in Salisbury for the morning and she planned to mystery shop at the chain in Winston Salem in the afternoon as well. Neither of the managers had met her before, so she would get a real chance to see how these stores fared in the economic climate. The Salisbury store was small, cozy and the staff there gave her the sense of talking to loved ones or good friends. She perused the boutique with an eye to the haphazard shelving used to display scarves. The way the store was put together made good use of the space.

  The room was categorized according to trends, a staple layout many stores used to move people into different zones to drive more spending. But she was particularly pleased with the placement of the accessories. The trinkets most complementary to a trend were housed in the same space rather than a confused cluster of everything on jewelry trees.

  She ambled about the shop for about half an hour until she heard the clerks giggle.

  “He is so sexy. I bet he has a girlfriend though.” She thought the delicate whisper belonged to the tiny blond, if Taylor remembered correctly her name was Amanda.

  “I wouldn’t care if he had twenty kids and a harem of wives, all I want is to jump in line.” She knew the voice had to belong to Maritza, when Taylor first met the Hispanic girl she even looked to be a handful or two.

  But her curiosity was piqued, who were they talking about? When she looked up she couldn’t see much. The man was tall and built incredibly well, but she could only see the back of him. From her vantage point she thought he looked young with slightly overlong hair under a ball cap. The man wore a pair of basketball shorts and a tee shirt. But he couldn’t be too young she supposed as all of the clothing while normal appeared to be of the high end variety and perfectly pressed to boot. Although, if the front of the mystery man looked half as good as his back side he had to be one awesome package of male. Whoever he was shopping for was a lucky woman.

  Maybe he was a trust fund baby, she thought idly and went back to perusing the shelves with more verve than interest.

  A few minutes later, she decided she had seen most of the store and she picked up a pair of earrings along with a scarf to purchase with her company card. The man was at the register paying for a pair of gorgeous shoes. She could see the box was in her size and vaguely wondered if the shoe would look as good on her as it did on the counter. Maybe when she visited the other store she could pick up a pair, even though the chunky heel with platform was a bit more than she would normally wear. They were covered in silver spikes and studs along the black leather surface, and far from professional. She was certain that the woman who was supposed to put those on wasn’t concerned about how they wore outside.

  The only thing that woman would be concerned about was the way she they looked on her when this man was on top of her and using her ankles as support for his next thrust. The thought took her aback and she felt a bit of shame at the track her thoughts had taken. It was all Chandler’s fault. If he would have stayed banished to the realm of nocturnal lusts and fantasies she could have a semblance of a normal life. Taylor considered herself normal as she thought about sex some, but not abnormally so. She masturbated, but usually she was good at keeping her mind off of what she was missing. Heck, she didn’t know anything about him, and it was better if stayed that way. Knowing him would place her in the position of having to do something about the way he made her feel.

  It would mean having to accept the concept that he was more than she had pretended to herself those long days ago. When she came back to reality from the land of blushes and longing she was going to have to accept the fact that he was important somehow. She would have to accept the fact that he was everything her body could ask for. But it wasn’t her body that had to make this choice. It was just her body that had to live with the consequences that would arise from bad decisions.

  And she was damned if she would live in a refrigerator box because of bad thinking.

  She heard the clerks whisper and when she looked up, the pretty pair each wore a petulant look. Taylor’s first thought was, he must have brushed one or both of the girls off.

  But the man turned his head to the side and gave a smirk that even with the glasses appeared to be of genuine amusement. Then when she looked at him closer, he looked mighty familiar. No way, she thought, that couldn’t be… But it was. She knew it was Chandler, here in the flesh. He had to have followed her based on her registered itinerary and there was no way that he would pick this store of all the locations unless he rode her heels. She pretended to have no idea who he was, but inside she was fuming. How dare he go beyond all bounds of propriety and follow her around as if she was an adolescent?

  “Excuse me, do I know you?” He asked, but she knew what he was trying to do. He must have hated that she had ignored him. Taylor knew that if she was in his shoes she would have been a bit perturbed too.

  “No I don’t think we’ve ever met.” Take that, she thought.

  That’s what you get for being a douche bag and following me here in the first place.

  When he flinched, initially she felt a sense of victory, but tainted with his pain. And the idea that she had childishly hurt
him was enough to make her flinch back.

  When he spoke to her, the clerks were beyond pissed and she could understand why. He was attractive, even for a group of barely legal aged shop girls. And to them, Taylor was an interloping hag when the man in their notice should have been looking in their direction. Usually, the girls would have been correct in their line of thinking. But for now, he was hers, even if she had tried to toss him back into the sea.

  “Let’s have lunch.”

  “I have other plans, but thank you for the kind offer.”

  “I refuse to take no for an answer.”

  “Well, you’re going to have to as I don’t plan on saying yes.”

  “Alright then.” He clasped her by the elbow and she was forced to march beside him as he escorted her out of the door. She left to the high pitched whispers of the two dumbfounded clerks who virtually squealed upon her exit.

  When she was outside in the beaming summer sunshine, she finally recalled the fact that she carried the scarf and earrings, but the items were not paid for.

  “Whoa, Nellie! You trying to turn me into a shoplifter here?” He looked at her then at her hands before he smiled.

  “Nah. If I were you I wouldn’t worry about it. I paid for them already.”

  “I doubt it.”

  “If you don’t believe me look at the receipt.” He released her hand long enough to give her the slip from the store revealing his purchases. And damned if she didn’t see a pair of shoes, one scarf and a pair of earrings on the slip of paper.

  “Well what if I had something else?”

  “Those women may appear to be juvenile as hell, but they are good at controlling shrinkage. Believe me they knew exactly what you were supposed to pay down to the taxes.”

  “Wow.” That was pretty amazing, especially since she hadn’t gotten the finer points of North Carolina taxation down yet herself and she had accounting as a minor in college.

  She allowed him to usher her into his car as she was dumbfounded enough to forget any questions or complaints that barraged her only moments before. Her stupefied emotions held her in the thrall of her own mind long enough to ensure that he was able to get away with relocation. When she actually looked up he had parked in front of a local restaurant.

  “Why are we here?”

  “I would think that it would be apparent.” He emerged from his car and opened her door.

  “Humor me.” She looked up at him and every second she refused the silent command in his eyes became too much of a burden to bear.

  “Let’s have lunch.” His tone was far from a query actually he seemed to ask more out of politesse.

  “No thanks.” The smile on his face never slipped and in fact the curve steepened farther.

  “So what you’re telling me is that I’m good enough to fuck your brains out, but not decent enough to eat a meal with?” She could tell he was irate, the irritation was clear on his face and his body language.

  “It’s not that.” She finally gave in to the pressure of his presence and emerged from the open door.

  “Then what is it?” His accent had thickened and the crisp brush of aristocratically British syllables only served to excite her.

  “I just…” She had no idea what to say and let the words disappear into the cloud of concealed longing between them.

  “It’s just what?” He looked at her pointedly, as if asking her to refute the hasty hash of nonsense. “I thought so.” Chandler took her arm and she followed him without another complaint. She may as well give into him. After all, it was only lunch. What could happen?

  But she knew she was wrong by the time their drinks arrived.

  Chandler was sure that she was going to have a conniption fit. He didn’t plan on letting her know that he was inside of the store. But when the sales clerks caught sight of him, the jig was up, or so he thought. But she ignored him or just didn’t notice him altogether. Somehow, he found himself annoyed that Taylor was so unaware of him. How could he be so drawn to her like she was due north and she not pay him any attention, as if he wasn’t even there?

  Somehow he was irritated with her even as her attitude enthralled him. He knew she was going to lash out and he wanted her to do it. Chandler was certain that her anger was mostly directed at him to hide the true cause of her emotions.

  Her body adored his and he loved the way she felt. She wasn’t the kind of woman to sleep around as whenever he was inside of her she was tight. Her snatch was practically starved for his cock.

  But when it came time for their relationship to become real, for the two of them to converse or to share more than their bodies, she would throw up blocks. Every encounter had been one of tumult, whether from chemistry or from verbal altercation. The stored lusts barely hid her true nature, the one she hid from others when she was in the world. But behind closed doors she was able to be herself and that was when the real Taylor came out to play.

  He had no idea what he was doing here. He had never in life noticed so much about a woman. He never cared what a woman wore or what color her toenails were. He gave less of a damn about what she was doing that day or what her plans would be when she left him. All he cared about was making another dollar on another day of the week. The only thing he was sure of was what he was going to be doing next in life. Would he fly to London this week and check on their international interests? Would he go to the finance convention to get information first hand or would he send the CFO instead?

  What would be next?

  This time however, he wanted to know everything about her. He wanted to pummel Taylor with random queries until she spilt every secret she had and then she would no longer be a woman of mystery. He was just like the enterprise of journalism, inquiring minds had to know. What the hell was wrong with him? He had never wasted time on idle questions. If anything, every iota of knowledge and wisdom he attained was with purpose. The concept was to ensure that he always was well equipped to handle whatever burdens were tossed his way. Whether it was an investigation by the federal trade commission, or the dying fight of a company he was attempting to take over, none of that mattered.

  He was a man with a plan. He had one for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Chandler knew what he was going to do months in advance and this woman was far from within his goals. But he had to get to know her, there was something more there, but he wasn’t sure what it was. Was it just the lure of simple chemistry mingled with proximity?

  But he had already dismissed that.

  There was no way mere chemistry was able to have him so stupefied that he mentally couldn’t let her go.

  Chandler pulled out Taylor’s chair for her and she took the offer, but begrudgingly. As if he could do something to her in the packed confines of the bistro. But on second thought? There were quite a few things he could do to her right here. Enough that she could be pissed, but walking away in huff would garner more attention than anything he’d done.

  “Hi. My name is Beatrice.” The young woman was attractive and she knew it. The young woman flipped both sides of her hair so the weight of the locks fell down her back in chocolate skein. “What would you like to drink sir?”

  He looked at his dining partner. “Taylor, what would you like to drink?”

  She appeared perturbed, or as he hoped, jealous. Taylor’s mouth was a bunched pucker of lips and she rolled her eyes covertly a single turn.

  “I would like a glass of water please.”

  “And you sir?” Beatrice asked, her eyes never left his.

  “I’ll have the same.”

  “Are you ready to place your order?”

  “Can we have a minute?” He asked, not because he didn’t know what he wanted to eat. But he wanted the chance to speak to Taylor first.

  “Certainly.” The girl walked away, with a twitch of non-existent hips and sway with her locks.

  “So what do you want to eat Taylor?”

  “I’m not hungry Chandler. If you are? Then by all means, eat.”

  Ta
ylor had a major attitude. But that was to be expected.

  “Fine then, I will be happy to order for you.” He said even as she opened her mouth to decline the offer.

  But her response was more telling for what she didn’t say than what actually was said. “You are presumptuous, you know that?”

  It wasn’t a denial and more than he had to work with just a minute ago. “I’ve been told that on an occasion or two.”

  “I bet.” She snickered.

  “Why is it that we can’t even enjoy a meal as friends?”

  “This is more than a meal and you know it.” Taylor hissed.

  “Since when?”

  “Since we had sex!” She whispered and looked askance at him.

  “I thought the sex was quite good. You didn’t?”

  “No…” She sighed and finally looked at him directly and not around him. “But you’re my boss, and what we’ve done compromises everything.”

  “How is that exactly?”

  “Think about it. The first time? It was just mutual lust between two unattached adults. Last night? That was just about simple greed and the lure of taboo.”

  “Yeah, I’m greedy. But you are too.”

  “But you’re my boss!” She spat into the air between them.

  He had something to say about that, but before he could respond, Beatrice was back. “Have the two of you had the opportunity to decide what you would like to eat?”

  “Yes, Beatrice. I would like the filet mignon, medium please. My companion,” he gestured to Taylor, “would like the same.”

  “Did you want the potato side or salad sir?” She cocked her head sideways and looked down at him. He wasn’t going to give the young woman any additional attention. The girl was cute, but his tastes ran a bit more mature than what the young woman had to offer.

  He interjected. “Actually, both please.”

  The girl walked away, this time a bit more sharply than before.