Grace Anne

This is a work of fiction. Names,
characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or
are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to
actual events, locations, organizations, or person, living or dead, is entirely
coincidental.

WCP

World Castle
Publishing

Pensacola, Florida

Copyright © Kathi S. Barton 2013

ISBN: 9781939865106

First Edition World Castle
Publishing March 10, 2013

http://www.worldcastlepublishing.com

Licensing Notes

All rights reserved. No part of
this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written
permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in articles and
reviews.

Cover: Karen Fuller

Photos: Shutterstock

Editor: Brieanna Robertson

Chapter 1

Michael Cunningham parked his car
in the lot and scowled at the building. He didn’t have time for this shit and
he didn’t want to meet up with the owner of this building to settle something
that should have been settled over three months ago. He pulled out his cell
phone when it rang and answered with a bark of his name.

“I’m wondering if you ever look at
your caller ID before you answer, or is it just me that gets such special
treatment? I mean, if it helps, I will ground you until you see your way to be
nice to your mother.” He heard her laugh as she continued. “Of course, I
suppose I shouldn’t expect anything less of the man who fired his own brother
this morning.”

“He came running to you, did he? I
don’t know what he expected me to do. He was having…he was doing something on
company time that got him into trouble this time. And don’t even ask me to hire
him back. I won’t do it, not this time.”

Michael had stepped off the
elevator this morning to see his brother Thomas fucking his secretary on her
desk. And if that wasn’t bad enough, his brother had asked him if he wanted
sloppy seconds when he was finished. He wasn’t going to tell his mom that, but
he was reasonably sure she already knew.

“No,” she said with a heavy sigh. “I
don’t want you to hire him back. You’ve done all you can for the idiot. Melody
is probably going to file some sort of charges against us. I’m sure there is
some rule about being fucked by your boss on your own desk.”

Michael winced. “There is, but I
don’t think she’s going to have much to use.” He took a breath before telling
her the best part. “She told me that she was banging the guy in accounting too
and one more on her list was fine by her.”

“Oh good heavens. Where do we get
these people? I swear to you… Where are you now? That new man…Donald, said you’d
left the site.”

He looked up at the building
again. “I’m at the Washington building again. The last time I was here they
told me the owner was out of town. They wouldn’t even tell me when he was
coming back. I couldn’t even get the man who was prancing around taking
pictures to tell me.”

“Prancing? Michael, do we need to
send you to those sensitive classes again? Men do not prance.” She laughed
again and he smiled. He loved his mom.

“Okay, not prancing, but he was
having too much fun for me to believe he was working. What the hell are they
supposed to be doing in there anyway? All we could find out were designs. Designs
of what, is what I’d like to know.” He picked up the file on his passenger
seat. “Some person by the name of G. A. Waite and he bought the building back
ten years ago for a song. I want it and he’ll sell it to me or I’ll put him and
his happy little workers out of business.”

He got out of his car and
straightened his tie as his mother reminded him about the meeting he had at a
luncheon. He didn’t give two figs for the meeting right now as he mentally
assessed the building and the grounds surrounding it. He put his phone away and
simply walked inside the door. The place was never locked up, as far as he knew,
and he didn’t have any problems this time.

The place was in shambles. He
supposed it wasn’t really as bad as he first thought, but a sort of chaotic
mess. He hated things not in their place and this one, this large building, was
a nightmare to him. The colors alone were enough to make a grown man sick—pinks
and greens mixed with heavy doses of blue and black. There was an entire wall
of prints that had no business being together no matter what the idea had been
to paste them all together. He looked up when someone came toward him.

“You’re over an hour late. And
what is that supposed to be you’re wearing?”

Michael looked down at his suit
and tie.

“It’ll have to go. And that tie. Oh.
My. God. Who dressed you? Your mother?”

Before he could make a comment on
the clothes the woman had on, she was pulling him along behind her by his tie. He
nearly stopped and made her explain. He nearly did, as a matter of fact, but he
was suddenly speechless and his tongue had stuck to the roof of his mouth. Holy
good Christ, he was in a porn movie.

There were perhaps five or six
half dressed men and women everywhere; some of them were even wearing some sort
of sparkles on their body and in their hair. And the bed…hell, is was big
enough for all of them.

~~~

Gracie stood frowning at her
assistant again. “I still don’t see why I have to model this. I hired you to
find people to do this sort of thing. Besides, I have things to do this morning
and it doesn’t involve me standing in front of a camera for eight hours
straight.”

Becky snorted. “You probably look
better in it than that stupid cow Marcie could ever hope to. So unless you have
a hot date with a
real
person and not a toy, forget it. We need this
shot today for the cover and you’re the one who designed it.”

Gracie wanted to point out that
she was the boss and that she had designed all the outfits on all the covers
and inside, but she bit her lip. Becky was right, the magazine had to be
completed today or they’d be late in getting the Christmas catalogue out. She
glanced over at the calendar. It was only May and she was worrying about a
catalogue that was still five months from being sent out.

Looking in the mirror, she thought
the design was simply beautiful. She turned to her right then left, looking at
the way the color of the bra and panty set complemented her skin color. The
pale of her skin against the dark blue of the material was better than she’d
hoped for. Unless, of course, she remembered that she wasn’t supposed to be the
model, but the one behind the camera directing the shoot. She tried again to
get someone else to do it and, of course, she was ignored. She wondered, not
for the first time, when she’d lost control here. She smiled, knowing that she’d
never really had it.

“The model we hired just showed up
finally. And for the record, I told them to send him over in a t-shirt and
jeans. Not that he doesn’t look scrumptious like he is, but I did tell them.” Margo
picked up one of the other outfits that needed to be re-shot. “You know, if I
weren’t in a semi-serious failing relationship, I’d have to try and get some of
what that guy is hiding under that cool, ‘don’t fucking touch me’ look. I
mussed his tie just to see what he’d do.”

“He has on a tie? A suit…” Gracie
looked at her assistant. “Tell him to lose the jacket if he has one and to roll
up his sleeves. Leave the tie…wait.” Everyone froze. “What color is the tie?”

By the time she had the idea in
her head nothing else mattered. She pulled her robe on and walked into the set.
Christ, love a dub, he was scrumptious. And he looked pissed. She walked over
to him and eyed him critically. Yes, she knew he was going to be perfect.

“Would you mind telling me why
this…person is telling me I have to remove my jacket? I assure you that—”

“Don’t talk or I’ll make sure you’re
not paid.” She fingered the tie and then looked up at him. “I really think you
need to take off the jacket. I’m already behind schedule and you coming here
late has put me more behind.” She wasn’t sure he was going to comply, not with
the look of murder in his eye. “Now would be a good time to be a good boy and
take the fucking jacket off.”

“And if I do, what do you take
off?”

She heard the tone. And she hated
that her body reacted to it. When he started to unbutton his jacket and then
remove it she couldn’t seem to catch her breath. When he laughed, she looked up
at his face. “You think this is fun? Well, it’s not. I have ten hours to get
this shot right and I won’t put up with your being snarky. This is a photo shoot
where I’m the boss and you’re going to do as you’re told. Roll up the sleeves
and do what I tell you or you’ll never work here again.”

She knew it was a good threat
under normal circumstances, but this guy could probably get a job anywhere no
matter what he did to fuck up this one. He was just too good-looking, and sexy
as hell. She stood there until he rolled first the left, then the right sleeve
up without taking his eyes from her face. She never blinked an eye when she
unbelted her robe.

“Gracie, there’s a call for you. It’s
that ditzy sister…the one…fuck, what’s her name? She wants to tell you
something,” Becky said from across the room. “Jazzie, the author. That’s it.”

“Tell her I’ll call her back
tonight. Unless it’s a matter of life or death.” Becky said that it wasn’t and
that she could call Jazzie tonight.

She heard his breath catch when
she tossed off the robe. She stood before him in her panties and bra, if that
was what you could call a tiny scrap of lace over her nipples and less over her
mound. And it was almost an exact match to his tie. She stepped toward him and
he reached for her. She put her hand up to stop him.

“You aren’t in charge here, big
boy. See the camera over there? That’s Arnold Malone holding it up. Arnold is
going to shoot more pictures than I can count and you’re going to stand here
like a good model and let him. Understand?”

“Model? I’m not—”

“Okay, so you’re something else. Whatever.
Stand there and put your hands where he or I tells you and shut up. Get it?”

He glared, but nodded.

“Good. See the mock ups over there
against the wall?”

Again, he nodded.

“That’s what I need to redo. The
one where we’re supposed to be turned on by what I’m wearing.” She turned her
back to him and waited until he put his hand on her belly just above the
panties line and his other hand wrapped around her neck and pulled her back.
The moment he touched her she knew this wasn’t going to work. Before she could
pull away he tightened his arms around her.

“Easy, princess. This is supposed
to be a sensual shot, remember? Relax.” His mouth brushed over the column of
her neck before he nipped at her skin. “You taste like warm sunshine and smell
like an apple pie.”

“You’re not supposed to do that,”
she told him breathlessly. “You’re supposed to be…” She lost her train of
thought when he ran his tongue along her spine. “We aren’t making a porn movie.”

“Hummm,” he hummed as he nipped
her again. “Maybe we should be. A woman like you, soft and warm, should be
making lots of money doing stuff like this.”

She tried to think. And some part
of her mind registered that Arnold was saying something, though for the life of
her she couldn’t understand what. When her model turned her in his arms, spread
his hand over her lower back, and his little finger nudged under the elastic of
the panties, she took his tie and yanked his mouth to hers.

The kiss should have been chaste. It
should have been a brushing of mouths together. It should have meant nothing. But
holy moly, this man could kiss. His tongue speared deep into her mouth and slid
along her own. He was hot, heavenly, and oh so delicious. She wrapped the tie tighter
in her hand and held on, no longer concerned with the shot, but being consumed
by this man. When he lifted her leg and wrapped it over his hip, she moaned and
pressed into him. His deep growl had her pussy flood with desire and need. When
he broke off the kiss, she whimpered.

“We’re not alone. And I have to
meet someone,” he told her as he bit her earlobe. “Tell me where I can find G.
A. Waite and I can finish up with him and we can take up where we left off.”

“G. A?” She felt disorientated and
dizzy. That’s when she started to hear the things around her. “I don’t…why?”

With another quick nip to her
mouth he rocked into. “Because I want to fuck you. But I need to get this Waite
person to sell me his fucking building first.”