Everything You Are (4 page)

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Authors: Evelyn Lyes

BOOK: Everything You Are
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“I think so.” Jane pulled him with her toward the bar. They were celebrating her official acceptance of her well-paid job. It had been her idea, despite her being a bigger hermit than Mark. They both preferred to spend their time inside the four walls of their home, watching telly, playing games, reading books or just goofing around. But how would Mark meet any new people and find the man of his dreams cooped up in the apartment with her? And the same applied to her. Even though she already had Mark to cuddle, she would love to have a boyfriend, somebody as awesome as Mark, modest and fun -- but straight -- to hold hands with and to kiss.

They reached the entrance of the bar and she had just stepped inside when Mark tugged on her arm and jerked her back.

A big grin played on his face. “Look.” He tilted his head at something at the end of the street, on the other side of the road.

“What?” Her eyes followed the direction of his gaze to land on a tall and wide-shouldered man with a blonde under his arm. “What's Ian doing here?” He was a rich, well-connected man, more at home strolling over the polished marble of private parties than the cobblestones of an old town.

“Let's get me introduced.” Mark grabbed her wrist and pulled her with him toward the couple.

“No.” Jane planted her feet against the pavement, refusing to be dragged across the street. “Stop it, Mark, please. He's going to see us.”

“Can I meet him, please?” Mark’s eyes glittered with excitement. “Please, Jane, introduce me to him.”

She sighed, her gaze on Ian and his escort, who were coming closer. Just a few more steps and they would have passed them. “Come on.” She hooked her arm around his and strode with him across the road, where they positioned themselves as if they were casually strolling.

The two steps of distance narrowed into one.

“Oh, Ian.”

Over the head of the woman who was in front Ian, Jane could distinguish Ian's blue eyes widening as his step slowed down. A smile flashed on his face and he stopped. “Good evening, Jane.”

“Ian.” Jane nodded, her gaze darting to his companion. She looked familiar. Oh, it was that stylist. Jane turned to Mark, who with a big smile on his face rocked on the balls of his feet. “Mark, this is Ian Thornton, my boss.” She waved at Ian before she faced Ian again. “And this is Mark, my flatmate.”

Mark's hand shot out. “Nice to meet you.”

Ian lowered his eyes to Mark's hand. He took it and shook it. “Yeah, you too.”

Mission accomplished
, Jane though. “Well.” She glanced up at Ian's companion, who towered over her in blood-red pumps, her big breasts threatening to spill over the low neckline of her black dress. The blonde wore a dress that looked a size too small, barely covering her ass, and a short leather jacket, with a red scarf framing her long neck.

The stylist lifted her eyebrows as her eyes glided over Jane's denim jacket, down her olive green cargo pants, to her black sneakers, before she raised her gaze to Jane's face and the corner of her mouth curled in what looked like a mocking smile. “Ian, darling, aren't you going to introduce me?”

What a snob
. Jane subtly rolled her eyes.

With a welcoming, warm smile, Ian gestured at Jane and Mark. “Amanda, this is my assistant, Jane, and her friend. And this is Amanda.”

Amanda didn't offer them her hand and they only exchanged nods.

Jane plastered a polite smile on her face. “It was nice to meet you.” She looped her arm around Mark's again.

“Where are you two going?” Ian asked.

“Just around.”

“You could join us.”

“No,” Jane said.

“Yes,” Mark shot out.

Jane faced Mark.

Please
, Mark silently mouthed.

Jane sighed before she turned to Ian, ignoring Amanda's glaring. “I guess we could join you, if we wouldn't be in the way on your date. What did you have in mind?”

“First, dinner. Have you two already eaten?”

Mark shook his head in a no.

Glancing at his friend, Jane lifted her eyebrows, refraining from telling Ian that they very rarely ate this late.

“Good.” Ian stepped forward, gesturing for them to follow him. “Let's go then, first to eat and then you two can lead us to a club with good dance music, something lively.” He glanced at the blonde hanging on his arm. “Amanda expressed a desire to dance.”

 

Chapter 4

 

The sound of doors opening and closing and the soft slide of slippers against the hardwood floor.

Ian, who was lying on the sofa, sat and glanced at the door.

Jane, dressed in a pinkish long-sleeve shirt, with her shoulder-length hair a wild mess, padded past him. She gave him a sleepy nod, while her hand absently scratched her hip.

Her gesture drew Ian's eyes down, to the edge of the pink cotton fabric that exposed the bare skin of her hip and flashed a glimpse of her white panties. It made his blood pump faster. He had never known that an ordinary cotton shirt could look so sexy. And on his mousy assistant.

She froze and stood there for a few long seconds staring at him, at his bare chest, the crease on her forehead getting deeper and deeper. “What are you doing here?”

“Good morning to you too.”

“Umm... What are you doing here?” She repeated.

“Don't you remember? Mark invited me up for a nightcap.”

She scowled at him. “But didn't you leave after?”

“Obviously, I didn't.” He grinned, his eyes glided down to where the edge of her nightshirt caressed her skin. His flesh twitched and an image of her flashed before his eyes. She was bent over the table, without her panties. The pink shirt was pulled up, exposing her lovely round ass and the hollow of her spine. He could see himself behind her. She held onto the edge of the table, with her cheek against the hard surface, her mouth open in a moan. Sweat glistened on her skin as he, with one hand on her hip, the other caressing her back, thrust into her with hard snaps of his hips. He swallowed, hard. Where had that come from?

Her fingers wrapped around the shirt and pulled it down before she turned on her heel and marched toward the hallway.

He blinked and shook his head to erase the image of them together from his mind before he fixed his eyes at her retreating back. “What about breakfast?”

She groaned.

He chuckled.

She turned, giving him a look of disapproval; the same look a librarian would give to a noisy patron, along with a shush. Then she hurried out the door, slamming it shut behind her.

With a broad smile on his face, Ian stared at the door. Yesterday, he had overheard Jane making plans to go out with her friend and, intrigued by his brother's comment about Jane's beauty, he had deliberately gone to the old town, hoping he would run into her. After an hour of strolling around and visiting the two bars whose names he heard in Jane's phone conversation, he thought that he had missed the chance to see Jane dressed up for a night out, when somebody called his name. He recognized the voice and searched for its owner, expecting to see high heels, a short skirt and heavy makeup, but what he got were tennis shoes, cargo pants and a cap. She looked so boyish. But it suited her. Even though she had been the one who called out his name, she didn't appear thrilled to see him, but at least her friend was more enthusiastic.

Hushed thuds of footsteps and then the door was shoved open. “Good morning,” Mark sang as he slid into the room. “How did you sleep?”

“Surprisingly well.”

“I told you you would.” Mark nodded. He walked to the kitchen. “It's because the sofa's surface is flat, not sloped.” In three steps, he was by a white tall refrigerator, peeking inside it. “What do you want? Eggs and beans or just coffee? Or... I think we have some oatmeal.” He glanced at Ian, grimacing. “But who wants to eat oatmeal?”

“I do.” Jane stepped into the room.

“Coffee, please. And eggs would be nice.” Ian stood and stretched, observing Jane from the corner of his eye. She had tied her hair into a ponytail and put her glasses on. She was still dressed in her pink shirt, but had put on a knee-length leggings. A shame really, since he wouldn't mind seeing more of her skin.

She rushed past him.

He scrutinised the way the pink fabric fell over her hips and the curve of her ass. There was something enchanting in the way the shirt shifted and clung to her curves as she walked. Desire pooled in his loins almost painfully and strained against the cotton fabric of the borrowed pyjama pants that were much too small for him.

“What kind of eggs do you want? Scrambled or fried?” Mark's voice broke through the haze of Ian's lust.

Ian blinked. “Scrambled, please.” He glanced down at the bulge in his pants. How could that be happening? And because of Jane? Because of little mousy Jane, his efficient, flat-chested assistant. He was a breast-man, not an ass-man. And yet, here he was, with an erection because of a few glances at the girl's ass. “The bathroom is behind the second door by the entrance, right?”

“Yes,” Mark said. “Don't take too long, the eggs should be done in five.”

Ian nodded. It only took him three minutes to take care of his problem by splashing cold water on his face and distracting himself with thoughts of one of his business projects. He found his pants and shirt folded on the cabinet beside the sink. Even though the shirt carried the smell of his sweat, he put his clothes on and returned to the kitchen.

Coffee and eggs waited for him and he sat behind the table, beside Jane who played with an apple, while Mark danced before the stove, whistling.

“Is he always this perky in the morning?”

“No, just when we have guests.” Jane cut the apple into quarters. “Why did you stay the night? I mean, wouldn't it have been more comfortable to go home and sleep in your own bed?”

“Yes, it would have been. But I was too drunk and too lazy to drive home or to call a taxi. It was easier to spend the night on your couch.” Which was just an excuse.

“I wouldn't have taken you for a man who likes to crash on other people's couches.” She offered him a piece of apple.

“No, thank you.” He took a slice of bread out of the basket in the middle of the table. “I'm not. This is a first for me.”

“That's probably because when you sleep over at your friends’ places, they can offer you a room.” With a jar and a yogurt in his hand, Mark joined them and occupied the chair on Ian's left.

“That's correct,” Ian said. He rarely used their hospitality though, and he only accepted an offer to come up for a nightcap when that was a coded invitation for sex. Yet, he had so easily accepted Mark's offer, not only for a drink in their flat, but to spend the night. He had even ditched Amanda… He’d have to buy her something to make it up to her, a bracelet, something with rubies. His curiosity about Jane was going to cost him. But he wanted to learn more about this inconspicuous girl who had made enough of an impression on his father that he had offered her a job, and who had also been noticed by his beauty-loving brother. “My father found you in a grocery store parking lot, right?”

“Yes.”

“What were you doing?” Ian picked up a fork and took a bite of eggs. They were good, fluffy and with just the right amount of salt. He dug in.

“Battling with groceries, as usual.” Mark popped open the lid of the container and piled the yogurt into his bowl.

Jane scowled at Mark before she turned to Ian. “I was using physics to strategically arrange items for a logistical purpose.”

“Of course you were.” Mark chuckled. “She does that all the time. She buys too many groceries and then when she can't fit them onto the bicycle, she tries to push them onto me.”

“That's not true.” Jane opened the jar labelled ‘Blackberry’ and slid it toward Mark.

“It's true, most of the time,” Mark said to Ian. “Sometimes she’s stubborn and she refuses to ask for help, like she did that time when your father saw her.” His fingers wrapped around the jar; he pulled it closer and then tossed a few spoons of dark goo into his bowl.

“What are you eating?” Ian peered into Mark's bowl. “Yogurt and jam?”

“Yes, it's really good. You want to try it?”

“Maybe later.”

“If you're asking this because you are wondering why your father hired me, he told me it was my persistence.” Jane also made herself yogurt with jam.

“You mean obstinacy?” Mark grinned.

Jane showed Mark her tongue.

Ian lifted his eyebrows.

“Just ignore that, please.” Jane blushed.

“Are you two always like this?” Ian asked, while his eyes darted between them, a smile on his face.

“You mean childish? Yeah, most of the time.” Mark shoved a spoonful of yogurt topped with jam into his mouth.

He and his sister Izzy were childish too, but more in a mischievous way. They might not exchange grimaces, but they had pulled some mean pranks on each other. Izzy was very good at getting the upper hand on him, always managing to imagine the meanest revenge possible. Like the time when she had deprived him of Beth's meat dishes, and nobody could cook, bake or fry meat like Beth could. Who knew what kind of impression Jane would make on Izzy? “Jane, what are you planning to do tomorrow?”

“Nothing special.”

“Lying around and watching telly, like we do every Sunday,” Mark said between chews. “Tomorrow is my pick, so we are going to watch Bleach, an anime.”

“He doesn't need the details.” Jane slowly stirred the goo in her bowl, the dark violet of the jam making swirls in the whiteness of the yogurt.

Mark shrugged.

“What's anime?”

“Anime are Japanese cartoons. They are really good. You can join us and see for yourself,” Mark explained.

“Mark!”

“What?”

“I'm sure that
my boss
isn't interested in that.”

She didn't want him there. He could feel his mouth turning down and he forced it into a smile as he focused on Mark. “I might. But not this Sunday. What about next?”

“That would be great, yeah.” Mark nodded.

Ian caught Jane rolling her eyes, but he refrained from commenting. “The Thornton annual picnic is this Saturday. I'm not certain if they sent you the invitation or not, since they went out before you became part of our happy family. It's at our family home, in the back yard. I would like you to come.” He faced Mark. “You are invited too.”

“I don't know.”

“Yes, we'll go,” Mark said.

Jane glared at Mark.

“What? It's free food.” Mark's eyes turned to Ian. “There's free food, right?”

“And drinks.”

“See.” Mark gazed at Jane again. “Free food. We love free food.”

“Fine.” Jane sighed and lifted the spoon. She opened her lips and carried the food into her mouth, her lips embracing the utensil. Her mouth pouted as she pulled the spoon out, and her tongue darted out to glide over the inside part of her pink lips.

Ian, staring at Jane's mouth, felt himself harden again. He frowned. What was wrong with him today? First it was the girl's ass and now it was her mouth. He shifted in his seat and crossed his legs. He cleared his throat. “I'll pick you two up at nine, then. Will that suit you?”

Jane swallowed her mouthful. “If you tell us the address, we can go ourselves.”

“Thank you,” Mark said. “Nine sounds perfect. How should we dress? Casual?”

“Casual is fine.” Ian risked a glance at Jane, who stared at Mark with displeasure written all over her face. Why was she so against spending her free time in his company?

 

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