Suite 269 Part 18

"There is seriously no way of ever knowing how many chameleons you are surrounded by at any given time, just sitting and watching you." @Kavon #ICanHearYouBreathing I sat on my couch alone. Alone. I just shoved Trager out the front door with five boxes of the s.h.i.+tty little life he pretended to build with me. He put on a little show for Holt and I'm not ashamed to say, I liked the way Holt's eyes narrowed at us. It was juvenile to lead James to believe I could be interested in having Trager's arms around me again, but I was an emotional wreck. I wanted to see him jealous. I wanted him to sting a bit. I wanted him to fight for me. But of course, nothing like that happened. No duel for the fair maiden. He let me direct him to the door and close it in his face. Then he just left. And so did Trager after he valiantly offered me one last time to patch things up. So I sat, utterly alone in the apartment Trager and I once shared, curled into the pillows no one leans on now but me. The silence was suffocating.

I dragged myself to the bedroom and popped an Ambien into my mouth. Within fifteen minutes, I was out cold, dreaming about the smell of Jameson's skin and the sound of his rumbling laughter.

My phone chimed the minute I stepped foot into my office.

This should be good-more heartache. I must be a glutton for punishment because I turned right out of my office and directly up to his.

As soon as I stepped out of the elevator car, I slammed into a hard body and stumbled back. Jameson Holt yanked me up from falling flat on my a.s.s-his hard, heavy hands clamped themselves around my waist and held me tight. I let out a small gasp. Not because I was scared or shocked to b.u.mp into someone.

It was because his hands were on me, burning holes through my skin and permanently singeing their prints into the flesh; and he was practically dragging me into his office.

I couldn't look at him. I covered my face with my hands and prayed he'd let me go. Please just let me go. "James, what-" I stopped midsentence, my breath yanked from my throat when he pulled my mouth roughly against his.

Warmth spread across my chest and the tips of my fingers tingled with fire.

I fell into his kiss, completely losing my mind to the way his tongue dipped inside my mouth. "Missed you, Lex. Missed you so much."

There was nothing to do but kiss him back. I wanted him, so completely. I couldn't say no; the word was wiped from my mind when it came to Jameson.

A deep growl escaped from his mouth as his hands quickly shoved my skirt up my thighs and lifted my bottom up onto his desk. Every nerve ending across my body ignited on fire. He pressed his palms hard along the inside of my inner thighs, sending electric pulses of need right to my core. I ached for him and parted my legs open wide.

"Yes," he hissed. "Spread your legs wide. Are you wet for me?"

"Come and find out," I said, making quick work of his buckle.

His fingers instantly found the lace edge of my panties and he dipped them under the fabric as he let out a ragged breath. "So wet."

He yanked the lace away roughly and a cool breeze puckered against my bare flesh. My body ached for him. I wanted to feel him stretch me out and fill me up. I groaned loudly as he thrust three fingers deep inside me.

His forehead pressed against mine as he f.u.c.ked me hard with his fingers-his thumb circling my c.l.i.t.

I was so close to coming I fumbled crazily with his zipper until I pulled his d.i.c.k out and rubbed it around my entrance. "f.u.c.k, Lex, f.u.c.k," he panted. "I'm going to shove my c.o.c.k and my fingers in you at the same time." His breathing was heavy, his words panted out like I was making him absolutely breathless. "You want it? You want me to spread you open, baby?"

"Yes. Please. James," I begged. G.o.d, he felt amazing. The quick strokes of his fingers and the pressure on my c.l.i.t-made me about to explode.

"Lex," he mumbled as he pressed the head of his c.o.c.k alongside his fingers.

Instantly, I was clenching around him, pus.h.i.+ng him inside me harder and faster. I was so close. So close. Then he began slamming into me-fingers and c.o.c.k-and the sensation was intense. He buried his face in my neck and bit into my shoulder, cursing out filthy words that made me wetter and wetter and spiraling closer and closer to coming.

But hard raps on the other side of his office door stopped us mid-thrust. I was so close to coming my muscles clenched at him desperately. I needed him to move, just a few more times and I'd explode. I didn't want to stop. It felt too good.

The knocking continued. "Jameson, it's me. Open up." His father's voice was deep and demanding.

"s.h.i.+t," James swore, pulling out of me, leaving me empty and hollow. I clenched my legs together; the pressure between them still so intense I had to squeeze my eyes shut tightly and remember to breathe.

"Fix your skirt," James grunted, shoving himself back inside his pants and fixing his belt. "Hurry," he demanded.

Dizzy and panting, I straightened my skirt and blouse then stifled a giggle. G.o.d, we were like two h.o.r.n.y teenagers unable to stop ourselves. It was so hot and dirty I wanted to rub myself through my skirt and have him watch me come before he opened the door. My whole body felt as if it were floating somewhere high along the ceiling.

"James? What's going on?" his father's presence filled up the room before I could find solid ground.

"Nothing," James shrugged, "I was just going over a small matter with Miss Novak. Nothing important."

My chest squeezed violently with his words, as if he'd punched them out right into my solar plexus.

Remington Holt's eyes scanned James's office-darted over all the objects and papers, seeming to look for something and came up empty. He barely glanced in my direction-like I was just some decorative potted plant in the middle of the office. Then his eyes narrowed and his hand pointed to everything but me. "Why isn't your office empty?"

"Pop," he said in a low voice, "this isn't a good time to talk about this-"

"It's not a good time? What are you talking about? I needed you in California two weeks ago. We agreed that you would take over as Editor in Chief there."

My chest burned and I clutched at it, grasping onto the middle of my s.h.i.+rt and twisting it tightly in my fist. He was moving to California? To head the offices for Holt Media? I couldn't breathe.

"You're moving to California?" I whispered.

James's jaw clenched tightly and I focused solely on it, not being able to meet his eyes.

"Yes," he said coldly.

The silence that filled the room was painful. His father stood there between us, folding his arms across his chest, watching.

"You didn't tell me any of this?" I said, finally looking up at his eyes. They were shadowed and emotionless. Bruised skin lay beneath them from lack of sleep.

"I didn't know how," he answered.

I stepped closer to him. "You open your f.u.c.king mouth and push the words out. Just like you made me do."

"Tell me what you want," he said.

"No. Tell me what you want," I answered, but his father spoke over me.

"What does it matter what the fact checker wants? You're heading up the office in California like you agreed to do," Remington stated.

"You agreed. Two weeks ago. While you were on your vacation?" I asked, quietly-trying my best not to show any emotion.

James just stared at me.

Another knock interrupted the tension in the office and Sophia sauntered in next, smiling her vicious smile. Trager the Mailroom Idiot stumbled in behind her and hovered by the entrance. "G.o.d, James. You're not even packed yet?" she chided.

She knew?

Sophia knew he was leaving.

And I didn't.

I wasn't important enough to tell.

Just an insignificant fact checker and a meaningless three-week fling.

Remington narrowed his eyes between Sophia and me and said, "What is this, an impromptu gang bang?"

Holt hissed at his father.

Sophia laughed it off and laid her hand on Remington's arm and squeezed. "The conference room is ready; everyone is there to witness Holt Media History!"

I stepped back, closer to the door. This couldn't be happening. I wanted to run. I tilted my head to look at Trager. His eyes were down and he couldn't face me. Why was he there? There was no way Alex Kavon was in that conference room right now. What were they both playing at?

"Shall we go inside the conference room, gentlemen?" she asked, walking toward the door and waving her elegant arms in the direction she wanted to herd everyone. Then she smirked at me over the back of her shoulder. "Miss Novak, are you coming?" Sophia cooed, rubbing her hand over Holt's arm and pulling him through the doorway. "After this, everything could go back to normal around here."

Every fiber of my being told me how awful it would be if I stepped one foot inside that conference room, but I couldn't stop myself. I needed to see the impossibility of an Alex Kavon actually showing up.

I walked out right before Trager. I wanted to leave him in my wake.

My feet faltered as I stepped into the conference room, and I braced my arms on the door to keep from falling face first into the rug. Every person that worked for the magazine had to be sitting inside that conference room waiting to meet the all-powerful Alex Kavon. My cheeks heated. I couldn't even imagine what was about to happen.

I watched Jameson and his father move their way through the crowded room to sit at the head of the long conference table. People s.h.i.+fted excitedly in their seats as I walked into the room further. They looked right past me, behind me, next to me-right freaking through me.

"Come on, Kevin," Sophia called from the front of the room, c.o.c.king her head to look behind me.

I turned to look at Kevin and shock kicked me in the throat. Kevin's eyes were glued to the floor as he walked past me with a large portfolio in his hands. I wanted to throttle him.

"Was her a.s.s made of gold?" I hissed as Trager slid past me. I wanted to kick the son-of-a-b.i.t.c.h. I knew that portfolio. "Was she that much better than me that you could hurt me like this?"

"You left me, Lexa. Remember that. I still wanted to get married and you went on our honeymoon with him," he snapped.

"Well, then I can't wait to meet Alex Kavon." Truly.

Kevin walked up next to Sophia and sheepishly slid the all too familiar portfolio onto the table.

A ball of burning anger swelled in the pit of my stomach. Was he serious right now? There was no way I was going to let him hurt me again. No way.

No way.

I stormed through the conference room and sat down opposite Kevin. I wanted to make sure he was looking directly into my face when he did whatever he was going to do. I wanted to stare him down.

The coward glanced up at me and quickly averted his eyes back down. I laughed loudly when the first beads of sweat glistened across his upper lip. Wimp.

I crossed my arms over my chest and narrowed my eyes into slits at him. His hands started trembling as he fumbled with the portfolio, trying desperately to open it. He couldn't even do it correctly.

Sophia stood next to him, beaming down at him.

"Miss Willington, can we please get to the heart of this meeting?" Remington Holt demanded from the head of the table. "You promised us Alex Kavon."

"And he is sitting right here," she cackled dramatically.

He is?

Who? Trager the Mailroom Jacka.s.s?

I laughed aloud again and held myself back from throwing something at her head. Was she really going to tell everyone? Was she really going to do it?

I kept my eyes leveled on his and stared daggers at him. Sophia squeezed his shoulder in some sort of warped misguided encouragement, and I couldn't wait until I heard what their plan was. Then sit back and watch how it would backfire on them both.

Kevin couldn't look at me. The coward was sweating profusely now. He pulled at the collar of his five-dollar knock-off designer s.h.i.+rt and tried to talk in his stuttered, asinine way, getting all tongue-tied. Then finally, his gaze met mine.

"Go ahead, Kevin," I leaned forward and whispered across the table. "Go ahead and tell everyone what you have to say." I blinked back tears and cursed myself for letting him see even a hint of them.

Kevin's whole body stiffened. "I can't do this," he said quietly. He dropped the papers limply on the table and a heavy silence filled the room.

James was watching me, and I guess it finally occurred to him that something was wrong. His head snapped to the front of the room right to where Kevin Trager was going to break my heart again. Unless he did the right thing for once and chose me. Kevin looked away from me quickly and started twisting his fingers together uncomfortably. Idiot.

"You can't do what?" Jameson demanded.

"Kevin, darling, really? There's no need to act humble. We spoke about this," Sophia said through a tight smile.

"It's wrong, Sophia," Kevin mumbled back. Backstabbing loser.

His eyes rose back up to mine. "I've screwed up big time and lost someone I really loved. I can't lie about this and hurt her more. She doesn't deserve it," Kevin said.

Tears blurred my vision. I tried to hold them in, but it was really hard.

"Sophia wanted me to pretend to be Alex-but I'm not. Alex Kavon is in this room though. I don't know anything about blogging and writing. But I do know I can't hurt anyone anymore."

"That's enough. I'm Alex Kavon!" Sophia yelled desperately. "I wrote all these articles. I didn't want to..."

"She's lying!" Trager roared. "She's lying. And she's only been sleeping with me because I told her I knew Alex. And when I told her who Alex really was she-"

"Shut up, you moron. You're the one lying!" she screeched. Her face turned a sickening shade of bright purple. The people around us started murmuring and whispering loudly.

Jameson slammed his fist down against the table, immediately halting all noise. "Stop the games. Where is Alex Kavon?"

Sophia and Trager's voices fought to be heard, tangling together and m.u.f.fling each other. Other people yelled and cursed at Sophia for giving them false hope at keeping their jobs.

I stood up amongst the fighting. Somewhere to the left of me, papers flew up into the air. I slid my way toward the door. The only thing I could honestly think about was writing an article about how s.e.xist a.s.sholes still exist or mean girls aren't only in high school.

"Lexa?" I heard Jameson's voice over everything else and it stilled my movements.

I leaned my palm on the door for support. This was going to end everything. This was going to cause it all to go up in flames. But he was leaving to go to California, wasn't he? The three weeks were over and it was all just fun. Everything that led up to it. The texts. The talks. Everything. It was numbers 1-9 on the list. The thing is I needed more. I needed number ten.