Dying wasn’t exactly on my to-do list. I’m not sure that it’s part of anyones ‘grand scheme’. Yet, somewhere in between going in to work and lunch, dying is what I did.
My day started out status quo. I hit the snooze twice. Okay, so I hit it three times this morning. I was a little hungover from the disaster-ridden date I had been on the night before. I surpassed my two drink limit by about five drinks. I did what was necessary to get through the evening with the most narcissistic man, ever. Headaches never make for a smooth morning wake up. But staying sober while on a date with a guy your aunt fixed you up with…hangovers are the lesser of two evils.
I finally rolled out of bed, literally, and dragged myself to the kitchen to have my coffee. Inevitably, it landed me on the toilet for a good five minutes. By the time all was said and done, I was only ten minutes late for work and looking rather presentable, might I add. Pumped up on pain relievers for a pounding head, I planted my butt down in my ergonomically correct chair and fired up my computer. Before I could even check the black hole of my email inbox, the boss called me into his office.
Kyle Finney, my paycheck signer and secret sex partner, was leaning provocatively against his desk. Very ‘come-hither-ish in his impeccably tailored gray suit, “Ms. Langdon, I couldn’t help but notice that you were late. Actually, you’ve been late every day this week.”
I looked him dead straight into those sky-blues and my heart fluttered at his hotness. He was pissed. He was extra sexy when he was annoyed and it was my morning mission to soften him up. “Yes, and I’m sorry. Besides, it’s only Tuesday. I have the rest of the week to repent.” There was no relaxing of his features, even when I slinked up closer to him and let my hand brush against his thigh, “Is there anything I can do to make this up to you?”
His eyes scanned my face and made their way down to my breasts which were playing peek-a-boo from beneath the red silk blouse, “I’m sure I can think of something, Ms. Langdon.” He licked his lips, “Tessa.” He hissed.
I felt desire trickling into my thongs, “Kyle.” I purred into his ear, raking my fingers through his thick black locks. Taking a quick peek at his zipper area, I contentedly noticed he was at attention.
Kyle McFinney should not have the effect on me that he has. Everything I’ve been doing with him has been so against my moral compass. The man is engaged (she’s a bitch, but still). He’s a dick (hence the bitch he’s engaged to). And he’s my boss (yeah, there’s that). Three of my main dating rules…no married or otherwise spoken-for men, nice guys (they don’t finish last, in my book) and no romance in the workplace. All three self-imposed laws, bam…thrown aside for mind-blowing sex.
All thoughts of broken whatever’s were chucked out the full wall of windows when his finger found its way under my skirt and planted itself on top of my already ready nether region. Thankfully, the other side of his lavish daytime digs didn’t have a single window so no one could see what activities were happening in the bosses office on company time.
Quickies are always fun. Especially when they are in a strictly-forbidden zone, like Finney and Son. A very unimaginative name for a multi-award winning, multi-million dollar architect firm, I agree. I had been working here as Kyle’s assistant for the past three years. Out of those three years, we had been doing what we’re doing for…three years. I never felt right about it, not really. I mean, Kyle hardly ever wined and dined me except when we had business dinners and receptions. I’m not sure that should even count. I was getting paid to attend those so it put me on par with escorts, in my mind.
When it came to imagination, however, he was bursting with it when we were having sex. We’ve done everything. He claims he and whatever her name is that he’s about to marry…she won’t even give him a blow job so he doesn’t even bother experimenting with her. He alleges they don’t even have sex, that “it’s not like that”. He’s marrying her because it’s kind of a merger between two huge, like minded companies. Your typical marriage of convenience. In my world, where commoners live, we don’t do stuff like that. We marry for love or to legitimize a pregnancy.
Melanie Naylor, his bride to be, is the snobby daughter of some sort of snobbier developer that Kyle’s dad, Marshall, wants in his pocket. So, like the good prodigal son, he is marrying who Daddy wants him to marry. Kyle claims he’d much rather be with me but he has to take one for the family team. I secretly believe it’s to secure his place in his fathers will.
I know eventually we won’t be able to do this anymore, whatever it is we are doing. But for now, I’ll take him any way I can get him. And, at that moment it was against his desk while he had his hand over my mouth, thrusting himself aggressively into me. It was a good call on his part because I wanted to be screaming his name at the top of my lungs. Quiet sex isn’t my thing. When I feel the feels down there, I have to make noises of appreciation.
I was enjoying myself and I’m fairly sure Kyle was right there with me, judging by his look of ecstasy. There wasn’t a problem until his hand moved from over my mouth to around my throat. Before I even had a chance to react (the sex was that good), I had a complete lack of oxygen traveling to my brain. I hear autoerotic asphyxiation can produce one helluva an orgasm. It was something we hadn’t tried before. It’s a shame I died before ever knowing if it was something I’d want to do again. Not to mention…hey, did he actually kill me on purpose?
A giant hand came out of nowhere and dangled in front of my face, “C’mon, we gotta go.”
Now, I don’t know about you but I was taught never to go anywhere with strangers. And this hand was attached to a stranger, made even stranger due to a whole Halloween-ish get-up of black, skin tight leather pants with matching jacket. Okay, so that was not the odd part. It was the scythe and the blue-black wings. Those sort of threw me for a loop.
I stayed where I was, “Yeah, I think I’ll pass. I’m good. Thanks.” One thing about me is, I’m stubborn to a fault. My mom used to always tell me that my stubbornness would be the death of me. Sorry Ma, it was the kinky side that did me in.
I heard the leather-clad stranger sigh in annoyance before squatting down to where I was which was apparently still on the floor of Kyle’s office, “I get it. You don’t want to go. I hear that daily, trust me. No one is ever truly ready. But Tessa, you’re dead now and there’s no reason to stick around here. It’ll just upset you even more than you need to be.”
Looking over the wingman’s broad shoulders, I finally notice that we weren’t alone. There were quite a few people in the office with us but no one seemed to even pay attention to the fact that there was a guy with giant wings squatting in the middle of the floor or even me, for that matter. Well, they were paying attention to me only, it was my lifeless body they were poking and prodding. Whatever it was that I became was across the room watching the rather depressing scene.
I looked at Scythe Lord and I’d be remiss to mention the fact that he was movie star gorgeous but I really didn’t have time to think about that, not at the moment, “I don’t get it. I..I..dead? Me? All I was doing was…”
He held up a hand which immediately zipped my lips shut, “I know all about it. Fact is, it doesn’t matter what you were doing, you died doing it. So, my deepest sympathy but you’ll have the opportunity for allowing it to sink in later. I’ll fill you in on the way but the Big Guy needs me to get you checked in and then, I’m checking out for the day.”
I couldn’t tear my gaze away from Kyle. He was sitting at his desk looking way paler than my body was. But, he seemed awfully calm for having just killed, whether intentionally or not, his lover. I mean, he stood to lose a lot more than me based on the discovery of an office affair. He was either in shock or completely apathetic to what was happening.
Delayed in my reaction, I slowly turned to face this winged creature, opened my mouth to ask him a question and dang it, I started bawling. Big, fat, ugly tears pouring down my cheeks and, most likely, taking black mascara down with it. Times like these, I really wish I used the waterproof stuff. I just found that it broke my eyelashes so I didn’t use it.
Out of nowhere, he produced a clean linen handkerchief and I proceeded to mop the snot off my face, “Thank you.” I handed him back the hanky.
He quickly waved it away, “You keep it, it’s ok.” He stood up and reached for my hand to help me stand, “Ready?”
Looking around the room again, I stopped to stare at my dead body. My poor dead body, sprawled out on the floor. Thankfully Kyle hadn’t even bothered taking my underwear off so it looked like I simply fell and died. There was no outward evidence of what happened to bring on my early departure, aside from a very angry red mark around my neck. Fingerprints would be found and justice would be served, I hoped. With the kind of power Kyle’s family had, I couldn’t be 100% certain.
Nodding, I allowed myself to be dragged up and out of the building. We floated to the roof where a fancy looking motorcycle waited, “Hang on.”
He stopped mid-stride but didn’t turn toward me, “What now, Tessa?”
I shrugged dejectedly, “If I’m going to hop on that thing with you, can you at least tell me your name?”
A slow, wide smile slashed across his grim, gorgeous face, “It’s Zeke. Now hop on and hold tight.”
Now that I had a name to work with, I felt..well, not better, per se. Because knowing you’re dead isn’t the most pleasant feeling, believe me. Without a having a powerful enough word to describe how I was actually feeling, I slid behind Zeke and wrapped my arms around his..wow, muscles…waist, “Where are we going?”
With a squeeze of my hand, Zeke drove off the side of the building. The sound of my screams echoing through the air.