The Sextet - Entanglements [The Sextet Anthology, Volume 4] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic) Read Free Page B

night before. So far, he hadn’t called, hadn’t e-mailed, and hadn’t made any attempt to follow through with his plans. And she had barely slept a wink since her mind had been filled with erotic fantasies and a touch of apprehension. “Sorry, Jon. What’s up?”
    “The bid was accepted on that university’s new dorm. Congrats.”
    “Sweet. Looks like we’ll be up to our asses in work until after Christmas.”
    Jon frowned. “Please tell me we at least get Thanksgiving Day off this year.”
    “I gave it to you last year!”
    “Yeah, but we all knew you were here working. Kinda ruined the holiday for the rest of us. No fun eating turkey until you blow up, when someone you love is here, working her ass off.”
    The memory was bittersweet. She’d gone to the office by seven in the morning and slaved over shop drawings while Noah went to his parents’ home for their Thanksgiving luncheon. He’d brought her back a plate full of yummy foods—even dragged along a huge thermos of his mom’s fantastic coffee. While she ate, the rest of her workers had shown up, one by one, and gone right back to the project. The finished building had been beautiful both on paper and when it had been constructed six months later.
    But what had her wonderful staff missed? Time with their families. A holiday to relax and not worry about work. She loved their loyalty. She hated their feelings of total obligation.
    Yes, indeed. Noah was right. She was a control freak of immense proportions.
    “You’re taking this year off,” she announced, “even if I have to force every one of you to leave your keys with me so you can’t get in the building.”
    Smiling, Jon left her office. Her desk phone rang moments later. “Angie Traylor.”
    “Hey, beautiful.”
    “Noah! You coming over tonight? Thought we’d get a pizza and watch a flick.”
    “Nope. Starting at midnight, you’re mine.”

    * * * *

    Angie accepted the bouquet of irises and handed the delivery guy a five-dollar tip. Setting the flowers on the granite top of her kitchen island, she searched for a message to find out why Noah had sent them instead of coming over himself.
    Sliding her finger under the flap, she popped open the envelope. Be in bed by midnight .
    Her gaze wandered to her laptop. Noah never did anything by chance. He’d picked irises for a reason—some kind of subtle message about this whole affair. Angie headed to the desk and stirred her computer back to life. A few searches later, and she had her answer.
    Irises were a symbol of faith, of trust. Noah wanted her to trust him. She didn’t want to let him down.
    Dinner was lonely, and all Angie could do most of the evening was pace and fret. He wanted her in bed by midnight. Why? Would he come over? Would he be aggressive, taking the lead to see how much she could surrender to his demands? Would she be able to turn her stupid brain off long enough to enjoy their lovemaking?
    Typical. I can’t even be patient enough to wait and see. Gotta worry about something that will be fun…
    By eleven, she gave up and got into her pajamas. Two glasses of white wine hadn’t relaxed her, and now she tossed and turned in her lonely bed. After the cryptic phone call and the short message, her mind hadn’t been able to settle on a single thing. Even her favorite mind-numbing sitcom had been hard to follow. She just kept picturing Noah in so many delightfully erotic situations, she’d accomplished nothing except making herself so aroused she could hardly sit still.
    The phone rang one minute after midnight. “Hello?”
    “Take off your nightgown.”
    “Noah?”
    “Listen, and listen carefully. If I have to say something twice, this is over. You promised to do what I say when I say it. Take off your nightgown.”
    “I am!” Hard to do while trying to hang onto a cell phone, but Angie yanked the cotton gown over her head. “It’s off.”
    “Tell me about your panties.”
    Odd request. Maybe guys liked girls to talk