Home > Chandler (Fixed #5)(27)

Chandler (Fixed #5)(27)
Author: Laurelin Paige

“Crumpet is a good thing, right?” There’s that damn ego again.

And now she’s resumed pacing.

“The point is that I have spent years focused on nothing but earning a place at Accelecom. All of college, my postgraduate work, my entire twenty-three years of being alive, has all led to right now. To this opportunity.”

“Sit down, and we can talk about that.”

She sits and crosses one leg over the other, bouncing the top one in a frantic rhythm. “Talk about what? How I’ve managed to go from no libido to hyper-drive in the course of one day? How I don’t recognize myself anymore? How I’m more caught up in when you’re going to touch me again than in what I’m going to do to get Accelecom this job?”

Again, she springs up from her seat. “Talking to you doesn’t help. It just makes it worse.” She’s back to pacing and fretting. “I was fine after that first night. One-night stands are supposed to be one night for a reason. Then, today, you had to muck it up by being charming and amazing with your monster dick. This is your fault! Every bit of it.”

“Genny. Sit down.” I’m as surprised as she is at the command in my tone.

Needless to say, it works. She sits.

“If you can’t stay put, I’ll tie you to the chair.” Damn, where did that come from?

“Ha. I dare you.”

Uh, did she really just dare me? Because that’s some bullshit if she thinks I can ignore the underlying invitation, and suddenly, I not only want to see her tied up—I need to.

Without explanation, I stand and start stripping my belt from its loops.

“Chandler!” Her exclamation seems to be as much thrill as admonishment.

“Don’t worry. Monster’s staying put,” I assure her. “But so are you.” I circle around her, assessing. The easiest would be to strap her torso and arms to the back of the chair, but I’m not sure the belt is long enough, and besides, her hands would still be free.

“Give me your wrists,” I say after a minute. Surprisingly, she does so, reaching back around the sides of the chair.

Admittedly, I have no idea what I’m doing. Here’s to faking it.

I wrap one wrist in the leather, threading the strap through the metal buckle and pulling it tight. Then I weave the end through the middle slat of the chair and around her other wrist before looping back to where I started. There’s enough length to do it one more time.

When I’ve finished, I pull on her wrists, and shockingly, they’re secure.

Pleased with myself, I move back around to face her, and wow. I’d really meant it when I’d said I’d keep it in my pants, but all of a sudden I’m regretting making such a promise because she looks good.

And since my crotch is not too far below her eye level, she notices what’s going on down there. I swear to god, she bites her lip. Like that’s going to help.

Actually, it kind of does. Now we’re both aroused, but I have the upper hand.

I adjust myself and settle on the bed facing her. “Okay. Now let’s talk.” I lean back on my elbows, partly because I’m a giant narcissist, and I want her to have a full view of my hard-on. Also partly because the position gives me a perfect view. With her arms behind her back, her tits protrude like fruit ripe and dangling. It’s all I can do not to eat her for a midnight snack. “This having you tied up, though, is quite spectacular.”

“Oh, Jesus. Do you have to ogle?” She feigns disgust.

Trust me—she’s feigning. I know.

“Shut up,” I tell her, reaching my foot out to wrap around the leg of the chair so I can pull her closer. “You like it. Your skin gets splotchy and pink when you’re turned on.”

Her blush deepens. “But that’s the problem, Chandler. You do turn me on. And I don’t have time for this. I don’t have time for you.”

“You don’t have time for me because I’m a distraction,” I say, validating what she’d said earlier. “But what if I can also help you?”

“How?”

I work my jaw back and forth as I consider. “We’ve already determined it was good to keep your ideas to yourself tonight. And what you did share was quite excellent.”

“My father doesn’t think so.”

“So your father is never going to steal that angle. It’s not good for his company, anyway. It’s only a viable plan for a bigger corporation like Pierce Industries. Luckily, someone who matters heard the idea and thinks it’s really innovative.” I wink.

She furrows her brow and frowns. “Who? Nathan Murphy?”

“No. Me.” Duh.

Irritating woman that she is, she laughs. My ego shrivels back in on itself, and I can’t decide if I want to choke her or kiss the fuck out of her.

Maybe both.

“You know what? Suck my dick.” I adjust myself. Again.

“I’m sorry,” she says, recovering. “You just. You didn’t even know you owned Werner Media until I told you.”

“True. But it’s my brother you need to win, right? I have pull with him.”

“Do you?” This time she’s not making fun—she’s sincerely asking.

“Yes. I do.” I think. Maybe. “He’s the one who sent me to that dinner tonight, you know.” I’m trying to convince myself as much as her.

“And you spent it trying to get to know Nathan Murphy.” Realization crosses her features. “Oh! Are you courting him?”

“Give me your foot,” I say, trying to distract her from the question but also just needing to touch her.

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