That Man 3 (6 page)

I could have spent the whole day with her in bed, fucking and snuggling, but that
wasn’t going to happen at her parents’ house. Plus, I woke up excited about giving
my girl her other Christmas present. My heart pounded with anticipation as she unwrapped
it under the tree and then exploded with elation when I saw in her eyes how much she
loved the plush tiger. I was lucky to have found it at a toy shop in Ketchum and the
tourmaline heart in a nearby jewelry store. Buying a woman presents was something
new to me too. I never did that; all they got from me was my cock. But when it came
to Jennifer McCoy, I couldn’t buy her enough. That’s how much I loved her. I could
have easily gone into every store and bought her a boatload of beautiful things, but
the reality of that badass blizzard combined with my burning urge to see her stopped
me. Buying something for her—especially something perfect—gave me a high like a drug.
I’d experienced this very high when I’d purchased the painting. It took my breath
away—almost as much as she did. I couldn’t wait to fasten the pendant necklace around
her neck. Wherever she was, my heart would always be near hers.

Little by little, we cleared the snow and could even start to see the pavement. Mr.
McCoy gave me another helpful tip—to keep one hand close to the shovel blade for better
leverage. I readjusted my hands and discovered he was right again. It was easier this
way.

We worked away in silence for another half hour. Heated up, I peeled off my jacket
and wrapped it around my waist.

The silence was unexpectedly broken by Mr. McCoy.

“Blake, I googled you this morning.”

I gulped and felt my face flare. I speared my shovel into a pile of snow and met his
intense eyes with mine.

“So you head up SIN-TV. That’s a porn channel. Right, son?”

“Yes, sir, it is.” There was no pussyfooting around the truth. He knew.

“I assume my daughter works for you. In the porn industry?”

My throat tightened. I swallowed painfully. “Yes, sir. She does. She’s wonderful at
her job.” It had quickly become apparent to me Jen had never told her overprotective
parents about her real job. They probably thought she worked in children’s television.
For sure, they didn’t know about the Don Springer incident, and I was going to keep
it that way.

“What exactly does she do?” ventured Harold.

“It’s not what you think. She doesn’t handle the rowdy stuff.”

His brows shot up. “What does that mean?”

“She’s a development executive. She’s developing a really classy block based on bestselling
books targeted to women.”

“You mean like that
Fifty Shades
book?”

By this time, who hadn’t heard about that book? “Yes, but even better.” I’d actually
read a few and was quite impressed by the storylines, character development, and overall
writing. And the level of steaminess was off the charts.

“What I’m thinking of doing is making these productions not only for women but by
women. Women writers, producers, and directors.” I hadn’t yet shared this thought
with Jennifer, but was positive she would jump all over it.

After another shovel of snow, Harold nodded his head approvingly. “That’s a good idea.
She seems so happy, and she’s told us how much she loves her job though she never
told us she was involved with adult entertainment. My wife doesn’t know, but eventually
I’ll tell her.”

“Thanks,” I said, not knowing what else to say.

Harold and I both shoveled more snow. We were almost finished.

“One last thing, son.”

The tone of his voice made me uneasy.

“I saw you with my daughter last night.”

My stomach knotted. I put my shovel down. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. You kissed her.”

Words stayed tangled in my lumpy throat. My face flushed. I couldn’t hide the truth.

“You’re more than just her boss. She’s in love with you.”

I sucked in a breath of the cold air and shot out the words. “And, Mr. McCoy, I’m
in love with her.”

To my surprise and relief, he smiled. “Did you have anything to do with her breakup
with Bradley?”

“No, nothing at all.” A lie as white as snow. I wiped some sweat off my brow and inwardly
shuddered.

“Well, to be honest with you, son, I never liked him though I never told my daughter
or my wife that. He just rubbed me the wrong way.” He regarded me warmly, his eyes
squinting from the glint of the snow and the sun. “I have a good feeling about you,
Blake. Take good care of my little girl, Jennie. She’s my one and only.”

I smiled back at him. “I will, sir.”

His eyes darkened. “And make sure you don’t hurt her.”

I nodded. “You have my word.”

Satisfied with my response, he tossed his shovel. “C’mon, let’s head back inside.
I’m as hungry as a bear.”

Equally famished, I followed suit. Warmth radiated inside me. I’d scored points with
Jennifer’s father. When I got back to LA, I was going to have a heart-to-heart with
my dad too. Especially since Jen and I worked together, he needed to know.

Jennifer

I
helped my mom make breakfast in our charming knotty-pine kitchen. Despite the fact
she was a gourmet cook, she’d never updated it. It still bore memories of my childhood.
We were standing a shoulder’s width apart, working away at a Formica counter.

I took a break from the fruit I was dicing. “Mom, can I ask you a question?”

Beating eggs in a bowl, she smiled at me. “Of course, honey. Anything.”

“How did you know you loved Dad?”

Her smile morphed into a concerned frown. “Oh dear, you’re still in love with Bradley?”
She’d clearly not picked up on my feelings toward Blake. Though so much of me wanted
to share what was going on, it was all too new, and I was unsure how things would
move forward once we were back at work. I responded with a sigh.

“Hardly. I’m totally over him. I’m just curious. That’s all.”

My mom quirked a relieved smile. “I fell in love with him the minute I saw him. I
couldn’t stop thinking about him.”

My mom had been his student his first year as a young assistant professor of English
at Boise State. There was only a year difference in age between them.

“And then what?”

“The feeling was mutual. He asked me out.”

“Weren’t you nervous about going out with your professor?” When I thought about it,
a student-professor relationship was not that different from an employee-boss one.

“Yes. I was. But my heart ruled my brain. I was young.”

I was young too. But I knew what’d happened. Ultimately, that one date turned into
a relationship. A love affair. A jealous female student made the university aware
of their relationship. Fraternization was not allowed. My mother, an aspiring scholar,
sacrificed her career, putting my father’s interests and needs before hers. She left
the university, and three months later she and my father married. While I was crazy
in love with my boss, there were so many doubts circling my head. Conquest Broadcasting
didn’t forbid work relationships, but it wasn’t going to be easy. And it wouldn’t
surprise me if one of his jealous blond bimbos like Kitty-Kat did me in. Both my career
and my heart were at stake. I needed to know.

“Mom, do you have any regrets?”

She smiled wistfully. “Not one. Your father and I were meant to be. I couldn’t imagine
life without him.” She paused and pecked my cheek. “And you, my darling, were meant
to be ours.”

I hugged my mom, at once excited and anxious about what the future might bring. Perhaps,
Blake and I could find some time to talk. There was a lot to talk about.

*

I helped my mom serve the beautiful platter of scrambled eggs she’d made along with
the linked sausages and a large bowl of fruit salad. Buttered toast, fresh squeezed
orange juice, and fresh coffee were also on the breakfast menu. I was never going
to be as good a cook or hostess as my mom. Somehow, that Martha Stewart gene had skipped
me.

Blake and Dad were already at the kitchen table. Both were rosy-cheeked from being
outdoors. The color in Blake’s face made him even sexier to me. His eyes sparkled.

“That looks delicious, Mrs. McCoy,” Blake said as my mother handed him the platter.

My mother smiled at the compliment. “Thank you, dear. Help yourself and pass them
around. And please call me Meg.”

Once the other courses were on the round table, my mother and I joined them. I helped
myself to a generous portion of everything though it was hard to eat with my beautiful
Blake in my face.

He ate heartily. Something I found so sexy about him. “There’s nothing like good old
eggs and sausage for breakfast,” he commented between bites.

So far, he’d been very well behaved. I kept waiting for him to trigger the vibrating
egg, but maybe he’d forgotten about it. Relaxing a little, I lifted a forkful of the
perfectly cooked eggs to my mouth. As I did, the shoulder of the oversized sweater
I was wearing drooped down.

My mother’s eyes widened. “Darling, what’s that red welt on your shoulder?”

Flushing, I gulped down the eggs. I’d totally forgotten about Blake’s bite. “Um, uh,
I think it’s a bug bite.”

Mom’s face grew alarmed. “Oh dear Lord, I hope we don’t have bedbugs.” She gazed at
my Dad who wore a bemused expression. “Darling, we’d better call an exterminator right
after the holidays.”

“I don’t think we’ll have to.”

My father winked at me. My stomach muscles tightened. What did he and Blake talk about
outside? Did he know?

I shot Blake a glance, but he kept a straight poker face.

My still concerned mother asked if he’d gotten any bites. “Not a one,” he replied
and went back to heartily eating his breakfast. I hastily pulled my sweater up over
my shoulder. I’d lost my appetite.

My mom noticed I wasn’t eating. “Jen, what’s wrong? Why aren’t you eating more?”

At that minute, Blake became Mr. Bad Boy. With the remote likely in his left hand
under the table, he turned the vibrating egg on full speed. It pulsed inside my pussy.
Holy shit! I couldn’t sit still. My eyes locked on his. He grinned at me fiendishly.

“Jen, you really should have more of your mother’s eggs. They’re so delicious.”

Yes, they were. Except there was another egg I was finding more delicious. The one
buried inside me. The pulsing was driving me crazy. Taking me over the edge. I pressed
my lips together so I wouldn’t shriek. Then I began to hum, fearful my parents would
hear my crotch buzzing.

“Jennifer, are sure you’re okay?” Worry laced my mother’s voice.

“Yes, Mom. I’m just really full.”
Oh was I!
I was going to explode.

My orgasm began its takeover. I jumped up from my chair “I need to use the bathroom.
I’ll be right back.”

On my way out of the kitchen, I shot Blake a dirty look. He’d promised to behave.
I should have never trusted him. He grinned that devastating diabolic grin. I raced
to the guest bathroom and let myself come with waves of pleasure.

“Beautiful bastard,” I sighed as I pulled out the egg. He’d made me hunger for him
all over again. I craved and loved him so much.

Jennifer

B
y the time we finished breakfast and I helped my mom clear the table, it was close
to noon. My parents lingered over coffee, telling Blake childhood stories about me.
While I was grateful Blake wasn’t forced to tell work-related stories, mortification
raced through me. Blake, however, seemed to enjoy each and every one and frequently
laughed out loud. God, he was sexy when he let out that deep laugh, his two little
dimples lighting up his face. Even I had to laugh when my parents shared the time
my father had told me I needed a little elbow grease to finish building my dollhouse.
Silly me ran to my mother’s pantry, yanked out the shortening, and smeared it all
over my arms. What a doofgirl!

Shortly after breakfast, my father shrugged on his heavy alpaca coat. “We’re going
to visit the Joneses.” It was a tradition. Every Christmas day for as long as I could
remember, my parents stopped by their best friends’ house for an exchange of presents
and a little grog. Dad looked my way. I was seated on the living room couch next to
Blake, cuddling my snow tiger. I longed to be cuddling him.

“Why don’t you two kids relax and romp in the snow,” he said, buttoning up his coat.

“Are you sure, Dad?” I asked as my mother joined him. She looked positively stunning
in the cherry red wool coat she wore only on Christmas. The heavy snow boots on her
feet only accentuated everything lovely above them.

“Of course, darling,” chimed in my mother.

With a wink targeted at Blake, my dad told us to have fun.

*