Conquering Circumstances: Black Shamrocks MC Novella Page 8

  “No, it’s fine thanks.” Smiling nervously at him, I shift from foot to foot until Steve’s words sink in. Looking away from Nate, my eyes are wide as I stand and stare at Steve. “What do you mean second-in-charge?”

  “Oh, it’s just a little promotion that I cooked up for you to celebrate finishing high school.” He laughs, his blue eyes sparkling with mirth. Steve has been really good to me since I started working here, and if I hadn’t made a gigantic fuck-up with Nate earlier today, I’d be over the moon with this news. Instead, my hands are clammy and I’m filled with worry. “I was going to tell you that you’d been promoted when I saw you tonight but here you are.”

  Watching Nate flinch at the mention of high school eases my fears a little. He must’ve thought I’m older than I am. Maybe now he knows, he’ll take mercy on me, and not mention in front of my ultra-conservative boss that I basically promised him a no-strings-attached fuck later tonight.

  My clit twitches unhappily, letting me know about her disappointment that fucking Nate is off the bloody cards now. My grandpa had a saying, “you don’t shit where you eat”, and since it makes infinite sense to me, I live by it. It’s just a pity that his own son couldn’t grasp the logic.

  As far as my colleagues are concerned, I’m the ice-queen. Apart from Steve and Amy, it’s my mission to keep my work relationships cordial and nothing more. If the other PT’s try it on, they get a curt refusal. If they try it again, I give them a tongue lashing. Word’s spread so I don’t get propositioned often. I hope Nate isn’t going to pursue our planned hook up now that he knows he’s my boss.

  “Well, I have a proposal for you so I thought I’d drop in.” I say, nodding towards Zali who’s still sitting down waiting for me to introduce her. Motioning her to stand up, I grab her hand and pull her next to me. “Steve, this is my little sister Zali. Zali, this is Steve. Zali’s looking for a traineeship and she’s pretty interested in personal training.

  I squeeze Zali’s hand when her mouth drops open in order to correct me. Lying is the only way I’m going to get her the job so she needs to keep her mouth shut. “She’s on the school’s cheer squad and she’s looking to try-out for the Castle Hill squad soon.”

  Chancing a look at my sister to gauge whether she’s going to follow through with my bullshit story, I catch a sidelong gaze between her and Nate. Anger tinged with annoyance creeps in, and I scowl at him when he directs his attention to me next. He winks, unapologetically, a satisfied grin crossing his lower face.

  Dumbass must think I’m annoyed because I’m jealous. That’s not the case at all. I’m used to male attention turning to my gorgeous little sister when they see us together. She’s classically beautiful. Taller than me by a good four inches, blonde, and with legs to die for, I’m sure she’s starred in more wet dreams than she’ll ever be able to comprehend. The only things we share are a decent sized set of tits and amber eyes—apart from that we’re like night and day, looks wise. I’m the alternative-looking, scary sister and she’s the shiny, bright jewel that everyone covets. No, I didn’t scowl at him because I’m jealous. It’s because she’s sixteen and ill-equipped at dealing with male attention.

  “Keep dreaming”, I mouth, and he coughs to cover up the burst of laughter that breaks free from him. Narrowing my eyes at him, I wait until he meets my gaze again before I let the full force of the rage that constantly simmers just below my surface show in my expression. He blanches as he takes it in, his laughter stopping as suddenly as it started.

  “Is everything okay here?” Steve asks, looking between the pair of us.

  “I’m good,” I reply. Closing the distance between Steve and I, and deliberately angling my back so that Nate’s cut out of the conversation, I hit him with as close to a pleading gaze as anyone will ever elicit from me. “So, what do you think? She’ll be perfect for you.”

  Steve smiles and asks, “How old are you, Zali?”

  He’s obviously noted Zali’s school uniform.

  “I’m sixteen,” Zali replies. “Seventeen in a week.”

  Steve’s smile drops and he looks at me, confusion in his eyes. “You know I’m looking for someone to work full time, Gabbi.”

  “I know that, but Zali can work full time hours and still complete school. She can do at least two hours before school and more hours after school. They’re your peak times anyway. And if you sign her to a school based traineeship in Sports Science, she can receive credits towards her studies. And since the traineeship is a formal part of her education, she can spend at least two study sessions a day at the gym.”

  I’m talking fast so I can pre-empt all of Steve’s issues with hiring Zali.

  This has to happen. I need this to happen.

  “I think it is a good idea, Steve,” Nate interrupts. He moves past me, coming to a stop too close to me. Our arms brush, and the smirk he directs my way before he speaks again, lets me know that it’s deliberate. “It’d be better to have someone in Zali’s situation working for you rather than have someone doing a traineeship during nine to five. You can structure her hours around busy times and avoid paying overtime. I completed a school based apprenticeship at my uncle’s gym, so I’d love to give someone else the leg up I got.”

  Steve’s starting to look convinced so I throw in my final incentive. “You’ll also receive a payment from the government for taking on a school based trainee...”

  Steve laughs at me. It’s unusual for me to show this type of enthusiasm for anything. “Well, if my manager and his second think it’s a good idea, who am I to argue? What do you say, you wanna join this team?”

  “Definitely.” Zali squeals, with her typical cheerleader perkiness. I watch both of the men melt as they take her in. “I can start today if you want.”

  “I like your style.” Steve chuckles. “But Monday will be soon enough. Come into my office and we’ll work out the details.”

  Zali follows Steve into his office and I almost burst with satisfaction. We’re one step closer to independence.

  “Thanks for backing me.” I tell Nate, taking a deliberate step away from him. Looking him straight in the eye, I continue, “We’re not going to have any issues, are we? It’s not like we actually fucked.”

  Straightforward is my middle name so I hit him with my question without preamble. He mustn’t have been expecting it because his eyes widen with surprise and he stutters his answer. “F-fucked?”

  “Yeah, you know? Meeting at Nitro’s tonight? Fucking afterward?”

  Biting down on my bottom lip so I don’t crack a smile while I watch him work hard to regain his cockiness from earlier today, I can’t help the small giggle that escapes when he leans against the top of the receptionist counter and winks at me. Amy shoots me a shocked look when the sounds escapes. I’m not a giggler, but seeing Nate thrown off his game is fucking hilarious.

  “I don’t see how working together impacts fucking tonight?”

  And he’s back.

  My slight giggle turns into a full blown attack. Amy finally figures out what we’re alluding to and she bursts into laughter as well. Her gorgeous oval eyes, courtesy of her Asian heritage, crinkle with mirth as we both laugh at him.

  “What’s so fucking funny?” he asks. Irritation covers his attractive features and he straightens to stand with his hands on both his hips.

  “She doesn’t shit where she eats,” Amy answers him, between bouts of laughter.

  Confusion mingles with his irritation and he narrows his eyes at me. “Huh?”

  “In other words, I don’t fraternize with my colleagues.”

  Understanding dawns, and he puts his game face back on. “We’ll see. I’m pretty bloody irresistible.”

  Amy can’t contain herself anymore. She flops back in her chair and howls great big wails of snorting glee. “This. Is. Going. To. Be...fucking fun,” she pauses after each word in an attempt to drag in enough oxygen to say the next as she continues laughing. “I’m. Gonna. Start. A. Betting pool.”


  Rolling my eyes at her, I ignore Nate as he waits for an answer to his self-assured declaration. Rounding her desk, I grab both of her hands and haul her to her feet.

  “When’s your break, Ames? I think Zali’ll be with Steve for at least half an hour.”

  “Right now, chicky.” Amy’s panting in an effort to catch her breath. Curiosity is as clear as day in her expression when she looks between me and Nate. She wants to know the full story about my ankle and where we’ve met before.

  Phoning one of the other staff to cover for her, she locks her computer screen, and grabs her handbag. I watch Nate take her in with eyes that grow wide when she glides from behind her desk and he gets an eyeful of her short denim skirt, tight white T-shirt with the gym’s logo on it, and massive wedges. She’s the perfect mix of Asian and Caucasian; she could be a supermodel and the bitch knows it. Shaking my head when his mouth drops open, I dismiss his earlier declaration about seeing if I can resist him. He’s found someone much yummier to take his mind off me.

  Poor guy doesn’t need to know just yet that she’s even harder to crack than I am.

  Smile firmly on my face, I watch Amy toss her long, black hair over her shoulder and fix her big brown eyes on Nate. “If Steve comes out of his office before I get back, can you let him know that I’m having my lunch break. I’ll be back in forty-five.”

  She purrs her request at Nate, and he nods like a lovesick puppy-dog.

  Linking arms with me, we grin at each other and leave him to it. His gaze is hot on both of our backs as we make our way to the exit.

  I would imagine he’s trying to work out what he’s got himself into.

  SNEAK PEEK of my medical suspense serial, AMNESIA.

  Currently available for FREE to my newsletter subscribers.

  Baby blue walls.

  I don’t have baby blue walls.

  Why that’s my first thought I wouldn’t have a clue, considering there’s a warm, hard body wrapped around my naked form when I’m positive that I usually sleep alone.

  Throbbing pain greets me when I crack first one eye and then the other. The pain is just bearable so I persevere. Opening my eyes all the way as I slowly roll to face the person snuggled into my back, I take in the luscious dark and wavy hair that tops their head. Piercing dark, brown eyes meet mine when I lower my gaze and I flinch.

  “Good morning Amber. How are you feeling today, baby?”

  Even with his voice sleep-roughened, the stranger sounds like sex on a stick. It’s ridiculous but my core clenches at his words, warmth flooding my lower belly as my nipples furl into tight buds.

  “Roll over, baby.”

  Not waiting for an answer he gently nudges me onto my back and I obey him without further thought.

  Moving between my legs, he prods my pussy with his hot erection. I gasp as he slides his length between my wet lower lips, from my throbbing clit to my entrance and back again. A slow, precise torture that accelerates my heartrate and spikes my desire.

  “Oh, Amber. Baby. Two more days. I can’t wait.” He groans against my mouth as he seeks my lips with his own. Belatedly, thoughts of stopping this stranger from touching me—kissing me—enter my mind but it’s as if he has me under a spell. As soon as the idea of resistance enters my mind, it disappears like a puff of smoke. Replaced by a craving to please him—to make him happy.

  “Two days until what?” I force the question from my throat when he falls away from me onto his side. Staring down at me with intense, lust filled eyes, he shakes his head. His expression changes from sexual to upset in a heartbeat, the corners of his full lips drooping as he drops his gaze from my eyes.

  Panic at disappointing him fills me and an apology makes its way to the tip of my tongue.

  “I’m...” I begin, but he cuts me off by softly laying a finger against my lips.

  “Baby, don’t say sorry.” An obviously fake smile lifts his lips, causing my pulse to rise in panic again. “We have two days until we can make love again. Two days until we get the all-clear after your accident. You remember, don’t you?”

  He runs a finger gently down the side of my head. I jerk away from his touch with surprise when his finger meets bare skin where there should be hair. Scowling, he looks at me through hurt eyes. I smile tentatively, feeling bad for hurting him.

  Lifting my own hand, I gingerly touch the same spot he did. The raised lump of a long scar runs from my forehead in an arc. It ends behind my ear. The scar doesn’t hurt; however, it feels new. Still slightly swollen and a tiny bit tender.

  Scrambling from the bed, I pay no mind to my nakedness as I move towards the mirror that I spotted attached to one of the doors of the walk-in wardrobe.

  Standing in front on it on wobbly legs, I stare at the unknown woman who greets me.

  A short woman with black shoulder length hair with a large part shaved bald near her right ear, big brown eyes, and pale skin looks back at me. I don’t recognise her at all.

  “Who am I?” I breathe the question as I touch the cool glass with a shaking hand. Lifting my eyes to his as he approaches, I ask. “Who are you?”

  Coming to a stop behind me, the man wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me to him tightly. He’s naked as well, his erection still standing tall and proud, poking against the middle of my back. He regards me over the top of my head, our eyes meeting in the mirror, and I run my eyes over what I can see of his tall, rangy form. Athletically built, tanned and lightly muscled, he’s extremely good looking.

  Tall, dark and handsome just about sums him up.

  Holding himself with an autocratic, self-assured air, he’s intimidating yet it feels right to be in his arms. A complete contradiction in emotions since I’m certain I don’t know him. I can’t explain it, but I’m overwhelmed with the need to please this man, almost as if his needs supersede my own.

  “Baby, calm down.” He rubs his hands up and down my arms, leaving goose bumps in his wake. “You’re Amber St George. My beautiful, thirty-year-old fiancée.”

  Smiling, he points at himself. “I’m Jax. Jaxon Ray. I’m almost thirty-five. This is our home. We’ve been together since you finished high school. We were due to meet with our wedding planner when you were hit by a car crossing the street four months ago. You nearly died and you’ve had memory problems ever since. It was the worst day of my life, baby. I was running late for our meeting so I didn’t have a clue you were hurt until you were brought into the hospital.”

  My legs tremble as his explanation takes shape. Jax notices, and leads me to the edge of the bed. Pushing me gently by the shoulders until I’m sitting, I allow him to pull me into his side when he sits next to me.

  “You work at a hospital?” My voice sounds hesitant to my ears. He holds the answers I seek, yet I’m unsure if I want to know them. Why? I don’t know, but something feels wrong.

  “Yes. I’m a neurosurgeon.” Jax’s tone conveys his pride in his profession, his chest puffing as he continues. “I operated on you once they stabilised your other injuries. I’m the reason you’re alive without any signs of brain damage. I’m the reason you’re regaining your memories one at a time. My techniques are working, baby.”

  Bounding to his feet, his excitement fills the room. The enthusiasm Jax exudes is contagious, bringing a smile to my face even though I don’t entirely follow what he’s saying.

  “You and me, Amber, we’re the perfect couple. Baby, we’re going to have it all. My techniques will fix you. Your recovery will put me on the map and make my career. And you are...”

  “A teacher.” I cut him off, the words falling from my mouth without conscious thought but with utmost certainty.

  Staring at Jax blankly, all I can see in my mind’s eye is a woman who looks like a healthy version of the one I just saw in the mirror addressing a classroom of children who appear to be five or six years old. The woman—me—looks happy, a large grin covering her face as she reads to the children who are sitting quietly on a threadbare carpet. I’m mentally compa
ring the expensive looking bedroom I’m sitting in with the cheap furnishings of the classroom in my vision when I’m startled by Jax’s outburst.

  “NO!” he yells. “You are not a teacher. You are my fiancée.”

  Seizing me by the shoulders as he drops to his knees in front of me, Jax peers into my face—deep into my eyes—and shakes me like a disobedient child. His dark eyes radiate his fury at my assertion, as if the mere mention of teaching is a personal insult to him. The panic that gripped me earlier takes hold once more, and my heart pounds in my chest as my mouth becomes dry.

  “Yes,” I croak, the need to placate him threatening to overwhelm me. “I am your fiancée.”

  If I hadn’t seen how angry he was with my own eyes, I wouldn’t have believed the change in him. At my acquiescence, the fury melts from his features. He lets go of my shoulders and hugs me to him.

  “That’s right, baby. You’re my fiancée. Your career is to support mine. You’re my backbone.”

  Relief courses through me at his calm response. Letting go of me, Jax stands and pulls me to my feet by each hand. His hold is gentle, although his tone leaves no room for argument when he speaks, “That’s enough talking for today, baby. I don’t want you to overdo it.”

  Nodding, I smile when he kisses me, running his fingers down my sides before cupping my ass and grinding me against him. His touch creates an instantaneous reaction within me, stoking my libido and spreading warmth through my limbs. My reaction is bizarre, almost an ingrained response, and it unsettles me that I’d respond with such potency to a man who was menacing me, not even two minutes ago.

  “Have a shower and get dressed, Amber. I’ll head downstairs and make some coffee.”

  In silence, I watch as he dresses in a dark business suit, knotting his tie as he moves to leave the room. I blow a kiss in response to the one Jax blows my way as he exits, simply because I know he expects it.