The Anatomy of Jane (3 page)

I made it all the way to the first floor before reaching for my bag to discover two things: one, I was still holding on to the client’s shirts, and two, I had left my purse.

Why God why?
I couldn’t leave without my bus pass or house keys, so I had to go back upstairs. I couldn’t do it, and I didn’t know why. I’d seen people getting off dozens of times. I’d even known that a few men had jacked off at the Bunny Rabbit. Shit like this didn’t faze me, but right then, I was reacting abnormally, and I had no idea why.

“Why? It doesn’t matter,” I whispered to myself. I just needed to get my things.

Turning back around, I re-entered the security lobby and took a seat. I would wait an hour. I didn’t want to interrupt.

“Ms. Chapman?” the security man called from behind the desk.

“Yes?”

“Mr. Emerson said you forgot your things and to tell you to come up.”

“Thanks,” I muttered, moving back toward the elevators and hoping I still had a job when I went up.

Of course I would still have a job.
I hadn’t done anything. Who cares if they were having sex; it was their place, right? Wait. Was one of them not out yet? Was that the reason for the non-disclosure? Or were they having an affair? Were the two men married? Or maybe politicians? Someone high up the food chain? The dark haired one had pulled off a tie...

So, Jane, in your little world, all men in suits worked for the government?

“Urgh…” I groaned and rubbed the side of my head. I was trying to fight back the headache I was giving myself when the elevator opened.

I stared at the double doors with the padlock at the end of the hall.

3140902.

“Error, password denied.”

Just as I was about to panic, the door opened slightly. Staring down at me with the brightest green eyes and a sexy five o’clock shadow was the light haired man. He took the shirts from me at the same time his eyes wandered down my body for what seemed like forever. They finally settled on my face and he smirked.

“Hello Ms. Chapman,” he said with a thick English accent that made me feel like he was trying to seduce me just by saying ‘hello’. He opened the door wider, exposing his bare chest to me, forcing me to not only stare at his body once again but also at the tattoos he had collected. I couldn’t help but look. He had a five star constellation on his inner bicep, a dream catcher on his shoulder, Chinese lettering on the side of his abs, a cross on his chest, and hovering over it were Roman numerals.

“You done staring, sweetheart?” he asked.

“You stared, too,” I said impulsively, and the moment I did, I regretted it. This was what Mary was talking about: my secret annoying desire to always get the last word in.

“Touché,” he said while one of his eyebrows rose. “Are you going to come in?”

“Yes, shit. Sorry.”
What is wrong with me?

My eyes immediately went to the man now standing at the window. He was dark haired and clean-shaven, and this time the blue eyes that had glared at me earlier were focused on his phone. He checked something before nodding. I noticed that in the few minutes I was gone, he had managed to put his shirt and tie back on.

“I got it, Nick. Yeah, I’ll read it before coming in. Tell Carrie I want to go over the program when I get—I don’t fucking care if she’s done it. I’m saying we are doing it again, so do it again.” His voice was calm yet harsh, a slight Boston accent, which meant he had grown up here but had most likely been trained to speak ‘properly’. He hung up then stared back at me. I noticed he looked me over just like the other one had.

“You’re the maid?” he asked like he couldn’t believe it.

“Yes.”

“How long does it take for you to clean this damn place all by yourself?”

“I’m sorry, but is there anything I can refer to you two as?” It would at least make me feel like less of an outsider if I knew their names. “Or just ‘Boss’ works,” I added in when neither of them answered.

“You don’t know who I am?” Angry eyes glared at me, causing his lover to snicker as he came over and fell back on the couch.

“Should I?” I knew it. He was a goddamn politician.

“I’m Maxwell Emerson,” he finally stated. I was sure I had heard that name before, but I couldn’t place it. He reached down and grabbed the remote control, turning on the large flat screen to the left of me. I wasn’t sure what he was trying to show me until he appeared on screen in a fitted black suit and navy tie as part of some news report intro.

“Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen, I’m Michael Madison, and we are going to get right to it. Only a day after Maxwell Emerson broke the story on The Emerson Report on Governor MacDowell’s scandal, the district attorney has released a statement that they will be prosecuting—”

“She got it. Turn the damn show off.” His lover groaned and turned off the television. When I turned back, he winked at me. “If you like, you can call me ‘Boss’. I like the way you say it.”

I was confused. It felt like he was flirting with me, but in my line of work, I hadn’t come across many gay men. Maybe my radar wasn’t as sharp as it should have been.

“The Brit here is Wesley Uhler, head chef of the Wes Hill—”

“This is the asshole who charges almost three hundred dollars per fucking person?” I snapped, remembering how many times I’d seen receipts from there. Allen had the habit of trying to live the high life at the expense of his club and, most importantly, me. I was so angry that it took me a second to notice the expressions on their faces. The words I had just said came back into my head, and I wished the ground would open up so I could just sink away from there.

“I’m so…”

“No, it’s all right.” Wesley laughed, shaking his head. “It’s meant to be ridiculous. The higher the price, the greater the desire people have to eat there. It also helps that I’m a half decent cook.”

“Don’t be humble. It doesn’t look good on you,” Maxwell muttered, reaching for a printed piece of paper on the table.

“Fine
love
, I’m a fucking badass in the kitchen, and if you ate at my restaurant, Ms. Chapman, you’d orgasm with every damn bite.”

My breath was stuck in my throat as I stared back at him. I could feel my ears getting hot. However, Max stepped into my line of sight, and his eyes were hard, sharp, and unwavering. He flashed the document he had picked up.

“Now that we have been introduced, I hope you recall this,” he said, and I saw my signature on the non-disclosure I had signed a month ago. “I didn’t call you back up here for us to make nice and get along. You saw something today and I never want it repeated to anyone, because if it is, so help me God, it will be the end of you. Are we clear?”

His nostrils flared, and in one second, he went from being cool and collected to almost manic. He looked like he’d even consider killing me if I didn’t agree.

“I know how to keep my mouth shut,” I replied, doing my best to stand up confidently.

“Good. That’s it for the day. Take your things and get out. The new pass code will be emailed to you.”

I nodded, reaching for my purse and jacket. I didn’t look back. My mind was spinning. I just needed air…and to get as far away as possible from Wesley and Maxwell.

They were opposites, like fire and ice, and I couldn’t take the swift temperature changes.

The moment she shut the door, I turned to him. “What the fuck was that?”

“What?” he asked casually, getting off the couch.

“Don’t play dumb. You were basically fucking her with your eyes.”

“Are you jealous?” he whispered and came closer to me. He reached out to place his thumb on my lip.

“Not even a little bit.” And that was the truth. “But you seducing her while I’m trying to intimidate her is hardly a wise choice, don’t you think?”

His green eyes looked over my face before he spoke. “You and I have always been honest with each other about
everything
.”

“And….”

“And I want her,” he said darkly, moving in closer to me. “I want her in bed with us, and I know you want her, too.”

“Wrong again. Besides, you’ve known her all of five minutes—”

“That’s longer than it took me to want you.” He snickered while leaning in, but his lips only hovered over mine, and in that moment, we shared the air between us.

“I don’t want her.” I wanted him…like always. Like a fucking drug I couldn’t break free from. “Besides, she’s an annoyance. Who just stands in the hall gawking at us like we—”

“Are two lions fucking in a zoo?” he said softly. “Maybe it’s because we were like two lions fucking in a zoo. I like this maid, and she’s like a little worker bee. I can see my reflection in all the silverware. Plus she’s sexy and feisty.”

“Then you fuck her and come back to me.” The thought pissed me off more than I liked.

“No.” He shook his head. “When you stop lying to yourself, when you admit you want her too, that’s when we see how much she might want us. Until then, I’ll just keep making you cum in my hands…” He reached into my pants.

“Has anyone ever told you that you have the mind of the devil?”

“Has anyone ever told you that you have the body of a sinner?”

I couldn’t reply. His lips were on top of mine, his tongue already in my mouth, and my hands moved to grip his tight ass. With everyone else I was Maxwell, the asshole, the ice block, the boss—but with him, I was as good as a bitch in heat.

“You’re turning me on just by breathing like that,” he whispered slowly while dropping to his knees.

I could see my reflection in the windows, my mouth opening as he gently stroked down the length of my cock, his thumb brushing the tip of me. “What do you want Max?”

“To go to work.”

He squeezed, licking the length of the vein now throbbing at the side of my cock. “Don’t lie and don’t make me do it again.”

“I want your mouth on me…now,” I demanded. He did as he was told, allowing me to slide my dick into his hot wet mouth. He grabbed the back of my knees, leaning forward and taking all of me into his mouth.

“Fuck,” I hissed, thrusting forward, grabbing a fistful of his hair, closing my eyes, and tilting my head back. He took my length all the way down to the base as his teeth softly glided over me. After being interrupted before, I couldn’t hold myself back and my whole body wanted this and him. Over and over I fucked his mouth and his head bounced back and forth on me. Letting go of one of my legs, he reached up to cup my balls in his hands.

“Fuck. Ahh…Wes…urg!” I grunted, cumming into his mouth. He held me in place while drinking all of me as I tried to catch my breath.

When he got back up, he wiped the corner of his mouth. “That was quick.”

“Shut up,” I said between breaths; he just kissed the side of my face.

“Another reason to be nice to the maid, Max, is the non-disclosure. You need it. Remember it’s just a paper, and she could blurt things out by accident. Suing her wouldn’t undo the damage she might cause. You’ve
come
too far now.”

“Even with a sexual reference, I still don’t find your jokes funny,” I frowned.

“My jokes are fine; it’s you who lacks humor,” he replied, kissing my lips before casually heading into the kitchen.

I sat down on the arm of my couch, trying to calm down. I was thirty-one years old, but I had the hormones of a seventeen-year-old boy.

Damn you Wes.

Without a word to him, I headed back upstairs to take a shower before heading to work.

I couldn’t believe it had been four years since we’d first met. I had been covering a story in Paris, and on my first night there, I went to a restaurant recommended by my mother. She had gone with a few colleagues and couldn’t stop raving about the food.

He hadn’t been lying when he’d told the maid that his food was ‘orgasmic’. It was then and still was, but in Paris that evening, I wanted to meet the person who had created such delicacies. I asked the maître d’ and the chef, Wes, came out, dressed in his whites. His sleeves were rolled up and his hair was tied back in a bun.

Some people believe in love at first sight. This wasn’t love; it was lust—raw, plain old lust the moment our eyes locked. I had always kept my lustful urges in check, but that night I had no idea what happened.

He gave me his card. I called and not even an hour later, we were in his flat fucking like wild animals. Not just that first night. Or the next or the next, but every night for the whole week I was there.

Then I left.

Six months later, he had opened a restaurant in Boston.

He didn’t ask why I hadn’t called him, or if I had thought about him. That was one of the differences between women and men. Men don’t ask. Yet, I showed up at his restaurant, and we picked up right where we’d left off. I’m sure we both thought we’d get sick of each other at some point, but we didn’t stop to question what we had.

Four years later, and I wasn’t even slightly annoyed with him.

“Room for one more?” He opened the glass shower door and stepped in beside me, wrapping his arms around my shoulders.

We just stood there for a moment, pressed up against each other, the hot water beating against our skin.