Hard and Fast: Italian Stallions, Book 2, page 5
“Okay, I’ll hear what you have to say,” she said.
Gage considered her carefully worded answer. If not this time, at some point, another company was most likely going to swoop in with the right proposal, which was why he’d really wanted to nail her down with a long contract. “Will you promise to come to me if and when the headhunters come back? Give me a chance to match their offer?”
Beaumont seemed to consider that. “Maybe,” she drawled.
“Maybe?” he asked hotly.
“You could at least attempt to sweeten the deal…by making me captain of the e-sports team.”
Gage barked out a loud laugh. She was shameless. “Seriously? That’s the part you want to negotiate about?”
“My life is very small, Gage. Work, games, cats. I love the idea of testing games from that upstart of yours and the weekend tournaments. For the first time in ages, I’m actually excited about something.”
Sounded like they had something in common. Gage hadn’t realized until that moment that Beaumont was as bored with her life as he was with his.
“So it’s just the e-sports you’re excited about? Not the whole reinventing-yourself project?” he asked.
“Oh, I’m super excited about that too. Especially the sex part.”
His sixth sense told him her commitment to that aspect of the favor was going to become a problem down the road. Maybe this was the time to mention he’d promised his brother no more workplace hookups, and that he could teach her how to seduce a man without the two of them engaging in sex.
However, before he could broach the subject, she broke out into some weird victory dance, something akin to the running man, and he laughed.
Penny Beaumont was an odd one, but damn if he didn’t enjoy hanging out with her.
“Fine,” he begrudgingly agreed. “We can be co-captains.”
Beaumont tapped her chin, pretending to think about it. “Okay. It’s a deal. We’re co-captains, and I promise to tell you when someone tries to lure me away from the company so that you can match—no, beat—the offer. I’m not going to lie…it’s starting to feel like I won three times, not just once. Co-captains, better contract, and…a big, big favor.”
“We’ll commence with Operation New Beaumont on Monday. But if you’re serious about wanting my help, that means you do everything I say, exactly. Got it?”
She tilted her head. “Give me an example.”
He stepped closer, taking note of Beaumont’s height. The Russo men were tall guys, his brother Conor the shortest of the three, at six-two. He was used to looking down—way down—at his dates, but Beaumont’s face wasn’t that much lower.
“How tall are you?” he asked.
If his question caught her off guard, she didn’t let on. “Five-ten.”
He reached for the band holding her hair and pulled it free, letting her thick mass of dirty-blonde hair fall loose. He’d never seen it down. Not once in six years.
She reached up to push it back off her shoulders. He circled her, taking note that it hung halfway down her back.
“I didn’t realize your hair was so long.”
“It’s a pain in the ass, but I’m too lazy to go to the hairdresser. Actually, I’m too lazy to make an appointment, so it’s gotten out of hand. That’s why I wear it up all the time. I’ve considered just being done with it and shaving my head, but—”
“No. You’re not shaving your head. Most men like long hair. Gives them something to wrap their fists around when they’re…” He wiggled his eyebrows, letting her fill in the blanks, and grinning at her instant blush. “It just needs a style and highlights.”
“Okay,” she agreed. “Although I’d intended to ask Jess’s advice in regard to makeup, hair, and clothes.”
He shook his head. “No. I’m in charge of all of it. My advice is the only advice you’ll be taking.”
She gave him a salute. “Sir, yes, sir.”
Gage shook his head, thinking for the first time he might have bitten off more than he could chew. Then he took the ugly-ass glasses off, amused by the way she blinked a couple times and squinted. When her gaze focused on him, he was slightly taken aback by her bright light-blue eyes. “Ever wear contacts?”
“I tried a couple times, but it always took a few minutes to get them in, which usually made me even later to work than I already was.”
Gage was aware of Beaumont’s inability to arrive anywhere on time. One of Matt’s biggest pet peeves was employees who were consistently tardy. To keep her out of trouble, Gage had “changed” her work hours, telling her the start time was fifteen minutes earlier than it really was. Ever since then—and unbeknownst to her—she’d been right on time, even though she constantly apologized for being late.
“You’re going to try them again. And throw these Edna Mode glasses in the garbage.”
She grabbed her glasses from him and slapped them back on. “I love these glasses.”
“They hide half your face, Beaumont.”
“That’s why I love them.”
He narrowed his eyes. “No more hiding.”
She grumbled, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. Not that it mattered. He was going to get his way.
Gage reached for one of her hands. “You also have to stop biting your nails. It’s a bad habit.”
She sighed. “I know, but that’s going to be easier said than done.”
“I’ve got a plan for that too.”
She studied his face then smirked. “You seem to have given this some thought since yesterday. Knew you were going to lose, didn’t you?”
“Did you ever consider that I’m a selfless humanitarian and I threw the contest because I knew you needed my help?”
“That thought never crossed my mind.”
He laughed. “Meet me at my office Monday at five p.m.”
Beaumont nodded, grabbed her bag, and left.
She’d said she was excited for the first time in a long time, and Gage couldn’t help but admit to himself that he felt the same way.
Chapter Five
Penny sat in the hairdresser’s chair, wondering when exactly she’d crossed over into this strange alternate universe. Slipping through a portal into another world His Dark Materials-style was the only way Penny could make sense of her current situation.
“No,” Gage insisted. “That’s not what I want. No more than three inches off the back and then long layers.”
“But her bone structure, the shape of her face…”
Phillippe, the hairdresser, continued to rattle on, but Penny tuned it out. Phillippe insisted on giving her a blunter cut, angled around her jaw, but Gage wasn’t having it.
The debate had been going on for five full minutes, and not once had either man asked for her opinion. Not that she had one. The reason she’d requested this favor of Gage in the first place was because number one, she was clueless, and number two, she trusted him to know what would turn a man’s head. There was no way her boss didn’t live with a permanent case of whiplash, given his dating record.
Penny wiggled, wondering how much longer they intended to wage this battle. She’d already been here an hour, sitting and playing on her phone while Phillippe added the lighter highlights to her dirty-blonde hair. She studied her reflection in the mirror once more, shocked by how such a subtle change in coloring could make such a big difference. She loved it and couldn’t wait for Jess and the other girls to see it.
“Fine,” she heard Phillippe say, giving in with a heavy sigh.
Finally, she thought. She glanced at Gage through the reflection. He was standing nearby, as if daring Phillippe to stray one single strand of hair away from the script.
“You don’t have to hang around if you have something else to do tonight,” Penny said. “There’s no reason for you to stay since this is the last part. I can pay Phillippe once he’s done.”
“I’ve already paid him,” Gage said.
Penny scowled. “That wasn’t part of the favor. How much was it? I’ll pay you back.”
Gage shook his head, dismissing her without a word.
“Gage,” she started. “Seriously, I want to—”
He captured her gaze in the mirror and held it. “Not another word, Beaumont.”
If anyone asked her to describe her boss in one word, she would say easygoing. However, every now and then, she caught glimpses of a different side of him. Something that was the exact opposite of laid-back. Something more…God…feral? Primal?
While Penny struggled to put a word to it, she didn’t have a bit of trouble describing the way it made her feel every time he hit her with one of his infrequent deep-voiced commands.
Her stomach fluttered.
Her heart fluttered.
Her pussy fluttered.
Gage only had to give her that look, use that tone, say something wholly domineering, and boom. She was a fluttery mess.
She closed her mouth, the snipping of the scissors and the murmured conversations of the other people in the salon filling the silence that had fallen between her, her hairdresser, and Gage.
Forty-five minutes later, Penny ran her hands over her hair, speechless.
It was beautiful.
“Wow.”
Phillippe smiled. “I must admit defeat. You were correct, Mr. Russo, to insist on this style. It is gorgeous.”
Gage stared at her as she rose from the chair and turned to face him.
“I love it,” she admitted. “Thank you.”
Gage didn’t respond, and she feared perhaps he didn’t like it.
Phillippe handed Gage a large plastic bag, but before Penny could ask him what was in it, he said, “Thank you for your time, Phillippe,” and gestured toward the exit.
They’d met at Gage’s office right at closing time, both of them agreeing to drive their own cars here since their homes were in opposite directions, so they stopped on the sidewalk, just outside the salon.
“I wish you’d let me pay you back.”
“No.”
“Fine. But no more paying for anything,” she insisted. “This is my makeover, my favor. The wager didn’t include you shelling out money for anything.”
“I’m loaded, Beaumont. Got more money than I can spend in twelve lifetimes. A haircut isn’t going to break me.”
“That’s not the point.” She paused then touched her hair once more and forced herself to ask, “Do you hate it?”
Gage seemed genuinely surprised by her question. “Fuck no. It’s perfect. I can’t stop looking at it.”
She smiled, relieved, as she ran her fingers through it. “You realize I’ll never manage to make it look like this again. That guy wielded a hairdryer like a professional gunslinger. I don’t even own one.”
“You do now.” Gage lifted the bag and handed it to her. “And a curling iron. And all those fancy products he used. You’re going to practice until you get it right. If you come to work with your hair pinned up in one of those Princess Leia hairdos again, there will be consequences.”
Penny wanted to ask what kind of consequences, but she couldn’t make herself. Because he’d used that damn tone again, setting off a nuclear explosion of fluttering inside her body.
“Okay,” she said, because agreeing would ensure the quickest, easiest way out of this conversation without making an ass of herself.
“Meet me tomorrow afternoon, same time and place, for round two.”
She nodded and started to turn toward the car. Before she could do so, Gage grasped her upper arm gently, twisting her to face him once more. She stood there, shell-shocked, as he ran his fingers through her hair, then closed his fist around it.
For a moment, she thought he was going to use that grip to pull her closer, to—ohmigod—kiss her, but then he released his grip.
“Nothing like having something to hold on to when you take a woman from behind, driving in deep and hard.”
“Oh…” she breathed.
He studied her too intently for her comfort. “You’d like having your hair pulled, wouldn’t you?” he murmured.
His words drew a picture of just such a thing in her mind, leaving Penny too flustered to respond.
“Perfect. Goodbye, Beaumont.”
She gave him a little wave, the slightest fluttering of her fingers, to match the same sensations he’d just fired off…everywhere else.
* * *
On Friday afternoon, Penny stood outside Gage’s office door, just as she had every single day this week, preparing herself for whatever the hell round five might consist of. Gage had clearly made a list, and they were systematically working their way through it.
The entire week had been a lot of fun, though she couldn’t quite believe Gage’s commitment to honoring the bet, touched by his willingness to spend hours with her every evening after work to give her what she’d asked for.
Of course, her favorite part of each night came at the end, when Gage explained—in dirty detail—how the changes they’d made would attract men. Every comment had fed her fantasies, ensuring her vibrator was getting one hell of a workout this week.
Tuesday’s excursion to the optometrist led to the contacts she was currently wearing and still trying to adjust to. Gage had allowed her to keep the glasses but informed her she couldn’t wear them to work anymore.
Then he’d leaned in close, running his lips over the side of her face, his beard tickling her cheek, his breath hot in her ear. “No glasses in the way. Gives a man unobstructed access to kiss every part of your face and to look deep into those pretty blue eyes of yours when you come on his cock.”
On Wednesday, she’d spent two and a half hours getting a tutorial on how to apply makeup from a professional makeup artist Gage had hired for the lesson. Then he had dropped an ungodly amount of money buying her all the makeup, despite her argument that she had money and could afford it.
After the lesson, they’d stood on the sidewalk once again, something that had become part of their daily ritual. He reserved his comments about her changing looks until they were alone. Gage had reached for her, only he didn’t grip her hair or kiss her face. Instead, he’d run his thumb over her lips, while she’d prayed the man would kiss her.
He hadn’t. Dammit.
He’d pulled his thumb away to show her that the lipstick hadn’t smeared. “Can’t decide if that’s good or bad,” he’d mused. “It sucks when a woman’s lipstick smears when you’re kissing her, but I do like the look of it staining my cock after she goes down on me.”
He’d followed that pronouncement up with a wink, chuckling when she blushed.
Then, yesterday, she’d been treated to her very first mani-pedi, and Gage had indeed found a way to stop her from biting her nails, given the acrylics they’d applied. After the manicure, he’d taken her hand, led her to the sidewalk, pulled her close—oh-so close—and whispered in her ear that a man loved the feel of a woman’s nails scratching his back, or using them to tickle their way down his chest to fist his cock.
She glanced down and admitted to herself that she loved the way her hands looked, though she was going to have to ask about making the nails a bit shorter. Typing on her keyboard had been a bitch today, and she wondered how in the hell women with long nails ever got a damn thing done on the computer.
Her frustration and constant cursing whenever she hit the wrong key had led Toby to ask why she was trying to look like a girl all of a sudden. Four days in, and that was the first time any of the guys in her department acknowledged the changes she’d made in her appearance. She’d simply looked at him and reminded him she was a fucking girl.
Last night, she’d been wondering if all the effort was even worth it…until she’d gotten home the same time as her new neighbor, David, who’d not only made eye contact but introduced himself! And Penny, for the first time ever, had managed to string together three whole sentences without sounding like a fool. David was new to Philly, single, a lawyer, and he now knew she was also single, worked in cybersecurity, and was available to answer any questions he might have about the city.
Score one for Operation New Beaumont.
She didn’t have a clue what today would bring. Gage had told her not to bring her car to work because he’d be driving her home, so she’d taken the El.
Knocking on the door, she entered after he called out, “Come in.”
He smiled when he saw her. “You’ve perfected the hair and the makeup.”
She was pleased by his compliment and thrilled with the way she looked. But damn if it didn’t take a lot of work. She’d had to set her alarm an hour earlier every day this week and she’d still been late. “Thanks, but these nails have to go.”
Gage frowned. “Why?”
“Because I can’t type with them. Today was an experiment in torture. I nearly ripped them off at lunchtime, but…”
He crossed his arms. “Nearly, or you tried to?”
“Fuckers are on there tight.”
He narrowed his eyes. “No ripping off the nails. You can go back to the salon this weekend and ask them to file them shorter. Okay?”
“Okay,” she muttered. “But you know it’s not just the typing. I nearly gouged my eyes out this morning, trying to put the contacts in with these claws.”
Gage chuckled. “Never considered how treacherous life is for women until this experiment with you.”
“Very funny. What’s on the agenda for today?”
Gage stepped closer, walking around her as he took in her outfit. “Wardrobe. You need a new one.”
She shook her head. “Not a whole wardrobe. I have plenty of clothes.”
“Are any of them sexy?”
She looked down at her mom jeans and faded black men’s T-shirt that said, “IT. I’m just in it for the cache.”
“I’m going to go out on a limb and say no. Probably not.”
Gage laughed. “Good answer.”
“I just need a couple sexy outfits,” she insisted.
“Mm-hmm.” He was totally ignoring her. “Come on.” He placed his hand on the small of her back and led her out of his office, closing and locking the door behind them. His hand remained on her back the entire ride down in the elevator to the parking garage beneath the building.
Gage considered her carefully worded answer. If not this time, at some point, another company was most likely going to swoop in with the right proposal, which was why he’d really wanted to nail her down with a long contract. “Will you promise to come to me if and when the headhunters come back? Give me a chance to match their offer?”
Beaumont seemed to consider that. “Maybe,” she drawled.
“Maybe?” he asked hotly.
“You could at least attempt to sweeten the deal…by making me captain of the e-sports team.”
Gage barked out a loud laugh. She was shameless. “Seriously? That’s the part you want to negotiate about?”
“My life is very small, Gage. Work, games, cats. I love the idea of testing games from that upstart of yours and the weekend tournaments. For the first time in ages, I’m actually excited about something.”
Sounded like they had something in common. Gage hadn’t realized until that moment that Beaumont was as bored with her life as he was with his.
“So it’s just the e-sports you’re excited about? Not the whole reinventing-yourself project?” he asked.
“Oh, I’m super excited about that too. Especially the sex part.”
His sixth sense told him her commitment to that aspect of the favor was going to become a problem down the road. Maybe this was the time to mention he’d promised his brother no more workplace hookups, and that he could teach her how to seduce a man without the two of them engaging in sex.
However, before he could broach the subject, she broke out into some weird victory dance, something akin to the running man, and he laughed.
Penny Beaumont was an odd one, but damn if he didn’t enjoy hanging out with her.
“Fine,” he begrudgingly agreed. “We can be co-captains.”
Beaumont tapped her chin, pretending to think about it. “Okay. It’s a deal. We’re co-captains, and I promise to tell you when someone tries to lure me away from the company so that you can match—no, beat—the offer. I’m not going to lie…it’s starting to feel like I won three times, not just once. Co-captains, better contract, and…a big, big favor.”
“We’ll commence with Operation New Beaumont on Monday. But if you’re serious about wanting my help, that means you do everything I say, exactly. Got it?”
She tilted her head. “Give me an example.”
He stepped closer, taking note of Beaumont’s height. The Russo men were tall guys, his brother Conor the shortest of the three, at six-two. He was used to looking down—way down—at his dates, but Beaumont’s face wasn’t that much lower.
“How tall are you?” he asked.
If his question caught her off guard, she didn’t let on. “Five-ten.”
He reached for the band holding her hair and pulled it free, letting her thick mass of dirty-blonde hair fall loose. He’d never seen it down. Not once in six years.
She reached up to push it back off her shoulders. He circled her, taking note that it hung halfway down her back.
“I didn’t realize your hair was so long.”
“It’s a pain in the ass, but I’m too lazy to go to the hairdresser. Actually, I’m too lazy to make an appointment, so it’s gotten out of hand. That’s why I wear it up all the time. I’ve considered just being done with it and shaving my head, but—”
“No. You’re not shaving your head. Most men like long hair. Gives them something to wrap their fists around when they’re…” He wiggled his eyebrows, letting her fill in the blanks, and grinning at her instant blush. “It just needs a style and highlights.”
“Okay,” she agreed. “Although I’d intended to ask Jess’s advice in regard to makeup, hair, and clothes.”
He shook his head. “No. I’m in charge of all of it. My advice is the only advice you’ll be taking.”
She gave him a salute. “Sir, yes, sir.”
Gage shook his head, thinking for the first time he might have bitten off more than he could chew. Then he took the ugly-ass glasses off, amused by the way she blinked a couple times and squinted. When her gaze focused on him, he was slightly taken aback by her bright light-blue eyes. “Ever wear contacts?”
“I tried a couple times, but it always took a few minutes to get them in, which usually made me even later to work than I already was.”
Gage was aware of Beaumont’s inability to arrive anywhere on time. One of Matt’s biggest pet peeves was employees who were consistently tardy. To keep her out of trouble, Gage had “changed” her work hours, telling her the start time was fifteen minutes earlier than it really was. Ever since then—and unbeknownst to her—she’d been right on time, even though she constantly apologized for being late.
“You’re going to try them again. And throw these Edna Mode glasses in the garbage.”
She grabbed her glasses from him and slapped them back on. “I love these glasses.”
“They hide half your face, Beaumont.”
“That’s why I love them.”
He narrowed his eyes. “No more hiding.”
She grumbled, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. Not that it mattered. He was going to get his way.
Gage reached for one of her hands. “You also have to stop biting your nails. It’s a bad habit.”
She sighed. “I know, but that’s going to be easier said than done.”
“I’ve got a plan for that too.”
She studied his face then smirked. “You seem to have given this some thought since yesterday. Knew you were going to lose, didn’t you?”
“Did you ever consider that I’m a selfless humanitarian and I threw the contest because I knew you needed my help?”
“That thought never crossed my mind.”
He laughed. “Meet me at my office Monday at five p.m.”
Beaumont nodded, grabbed her bag, and left.
She’d said she was excited for the first time in a long time, and Gage couldn’t help but admit to himself that he felt the same way.
Chapter Five
Penny sat in the hairdresser’s chair, wondering when exactly she’d crossed over into this strange alternate universe. Slipping through a portal into another world His Dark Materials-style was the only way Penny could make sense of her current situation.
“No,” Gage insisted. “That’s not what I want. No more than three inches off the back and then long layers.”
“But her bone structure, the shape of her face…”
Phillippe, the hairdresser, continued to rattle on, but Penny tuned it out. Phillippe insisted on giving her a blunter cut, angled around her jaw, but Gage wasn’t having it.
The debate had been going on for five full minutes, and not once had either man asked for her opinion. Not that she had one. The reason she’d requested this favor of Gage in the first place was because number one, she was clueless, and number two, she trusted him to know what would turn a man’s head. There was no way her boss didn’t live with a permanent case of whiplash, given his dating record.
Penny wiggled, wondering how much longer they intended to wage this battle. She’d already been here an hour, sitting and playing on her phone while Phillippe added the lighter highlights to her dirty-blonde hair. She studied her reflection in the mirror once more, shocked by how such a subtle change in coloring could make such a big difference. She loved it and couldn’t wait for Jess and the other girls to see it.
“Fine,” she heard Phillippe say, giving in with a heavy sigh.
Finally, she thought. She glanced at Gage through the reflection. He was standing nearby, as if daring Phillippe to stray one single strand of hair away from the script.
“You don’t have to hang around if you have something else to do tonight,” Penny said. “There’s no reason for you to stay since this is the last part. I can pay Phillippe once he’s done.”
“I’ve already paid him,” Gage said.
Penny scowled. “That wasn’t part of the favor. How much was it? I’ll pay you back.”
Gage shook his head, dismissing her without a word.
“Gage,” she started. “Seriously, I want to—”
He captured her gaze in the mirror and held it. “Not another word, Beaumont.”
If anyone asked her to describe her boss in one word, she would say easygoing. However, every now and then, she caught glimpses of a different side of him. Something that was the exact opposite of laid-back. Something more…God…feral? Primal?
While Penny struggled to put a word to it, she didn’t have a bit of trouble describing the way it made her feel every time he hit her with one of his infrequent deep-voiced commands.
Her stomach fluttered.
Her heart fluttered.
Her pussy fluttered.
Gage only had to give her that look, use that tone, say something wholly domineering, and boom. She was a fluttery mess.
She closed her mouth, the snipping of the scissors and the murmured conversations of the other people in the salon filling the silence that had fallen between her, her hairdresser, and Gage.
Forty-five minutes later, Penny ran her hands over her hair, speechless.
It was beautiful.
“Wow.”
Phillippe smiled. “I must admit defeat. You were correct, Mr. Russo, to insist on this style. It is gorgeous.”
Gage stared at her as she rose from the chair and turned to face him.
“I love it,” she admitted. “Thank you.”
Gage didn’t respond, and she feared perhaps he didn’t like it.
Phillippe handed Gage a large plastic bag, but before Penny could ask him what was in it, he said, “Thank you for your time, Phillippe,” and gestured toward the exit.
They’d met at Gage’s office right at closing time, both of them agreeing to drive their own cars here since their homes were in opposite directions, so they stopped on the sidewalk, just outside the salon.
“I wish you’d let me pay you back.”
“No.”
“Fine. But no more paying for anything,” she insisted. “This is my makeover, my favor. The wager didn’t include you shelling out money for anything.”
“I’m loaded, Beaumont. Got more money than I can spend in twelve lifetimes. A haircut isn’t going to break me.”
“That’s not the point.” She paused then touched her hair once more and forced herself to ask, “Do you hate it?”
Gage seemed genuinely surprised by her question. “Fuck no. It’s perfect. I can’t stop looking at it.”
She smiled, relieved, as she ran her fingers through it. “You realize I’ll never manage to make it look like this again. That guy wielded a hairdryer like a professional gunslinger. I don’t even own one.”
“You do now.” Gage lifted the bag and handed it to her. “And a curling iron. And all those fancy products he used. You’re going to practice until you get it right. If you come to work with your hair pinned up in one of those Princess Leia hairdos again, there will be consequences.”
Penny wanted to ask what kind of consequences, but she couldn’t make herself. Because he’d used that damn tone again, setting off a nuclear explosion of fluttering inside her body.
“Okay,” she said, because agreeing would ensure the quickest, easiest way out of this conversation without making an ass of herself.
“Meet me tomorrow afternoon, same time and place, for round two.”
She nodded and started to turn toward the car. Before she could do so, Gage grasped her upper arm gently, twisting her to face him once more. She stood there, shell-shocked, as he ran his fingers through her hair, then closed his fist around it.
For a moment, she thought he was going to use that grip to pull her closer, to—ohmigod—kiss her, but then he released his grip.
“Nothing like having something to hold on to when you take a woman from behind, driving in deep and hard.”
“Oh…” she breathed.
He studied her too intently for her comfort. “You’d like having your hair pulled, wouldn’t you?” he murmured.
His words drew a picture of just such a thing in her mind, leaving Penny too flustered to respond.
“Perfect. Goodbye, Beaumont.”
She gave him a little wave, the slightest fluttering of her fingers, to match the same sensations he’d just fired off…everywhere else.
* * *
On Friday afternoon, Penny stood outside Gage’s office door, just as she had every single day this week, preparing herself for whatever the hell round five might consist of. Gage had clearly made a list, and they were systematically working their way through it.
The entire week had been a lot of fun, though she couldn’t quite believe Gage’s commitment to honoring the bet, touched by his willingness to spend hours with her every evening after work to give her what she’d asked for.
Of course, her favorite part of each night came at the end, when Gage explained—in dirty detail—how the changes they’d made would attract men. Every comment had fed her fantasies, ensuring her vibrator was getting one hell of a workout this week.
Tuesday’s excursion to the optometrist led to the contacts she was currently wearing and still trying to adjust to. Gage had allowed her to keep the glasses but informed her she couldn’t wear them to work anymore.
Then he’d leaned in close, running his lips over the side of her face, his beard tickling her cheek, his breath hot in her ear. “No glasses in the way. Gives a man unobstructed access to kiss every part of your face and to look deep into those pretty blue eyes of yours when you come on his cock.”
On Wednesday, she’d spent two and a half hours getting a tutorial on how to apply makeup from a professional makeup artist Gage had hired for the lesson. Then he had dropped an ungodly amount of money buying her all the makeup, despite her argument that she had money and could afford it.
After the lesson, they’d stood on the sidewalk once again, something that had become part of their daily ritual. He reserved his comments about her changing looks until they were alone. Gage had reached for her, only he didn’t grip her hair or kiss her face. Instead, he’d run his thumb over her lips, while she’d prayed the man would kiss her.
He hadn’t. Dammit.
He’d pulled his thumb away to show her that the lipstick hadn’t smeared. “Can’t decide if that’s good or bad,” he’d mused. “It sucks when a woman’s lipstick smears when you’re kissing her, but I do like the look of it staining my cock after she goes down on me.”
He’d followed that pronouncement up with a wink, chuckling when she blushed.
Then, yesterday, she’d been treated to her very first mani-pedi, and Gage had indeed found a way to stop her from biting her nails, given the acrylics they’d applied. After the manicure, he’d taken her hand, led her to the sidewalk, pulled her close—oh-so close—and whispered in her ear that a man loved the feel of a woman’s nails scratching his back, or using them to tickle their way down his chest to fist his cock.
She glanced down and admitted to herself that she loved the way her hands looked, though she was going to have to ask about making the nails a bit shorter. Typing on her keyboard had been a bitch today, and she wondered how in the hell women with long nails ever got a damn thing done on the computer.
Her frustration and constant cursing whenever she hit the wrong key had led Toby to ask why she was trying to look like a girl all of a sudden. Four days in, and that was the first time any of the guys in her department acknowledged the changes she’d made in her appearance. She’d simply looked at him and reminded him she was a fucking girl.
Last night, she’d been wondering if all the effort was even worth it…until she’d gotten home the same time as her new neighbor, David, who’d not only made eye contact but introduced himself! And Penny, for the first time ever, had managed to string together three whole sentences without sounding like a fool. David was new to Philly, single, a lawyer, and he now knew she was also single, worked in cybersecurity, and was available to answer any questions he might have about the city.
Score one for Operation New Beaumont.
She didn’t have a clue what today would bring. Gage had told her not to bring her car to work because he’d be driving her home, so she’d taken the El.
Knocking on the door, she entered after he called out, “Come in.”
He smiled when he saw her. “You’ve perfected the hair and the makeup.”
She was pleased by his compliment and thrilled with the way she looked. But damn if it didn’t take a lot of work. She’d had to set her alarm an hour earlier every day this week and she’d still been late. “Thanks, but these nails have to go.”
Gage frowned. “Why?”
“Because I can’t type with them. Today was an experiment in torture. I nearly ripped them off at lunchtime, but…”
He crossed his arms. “Nearly, or you tried to?”
“Fuckers are on there tight.”
He narrowed his eyes. “No ripping off the nails. You can go back to the salon this weekend and ask them to file them shorter. Okay?”
“Okay,” she muttered. “But you know it’s not just the typing. I nearly gouged my eyes out this morning, trying to put the contacts in with these claws.”
Gage chuckled. “Never considered how treacherous life is for women until this experiment with you.”
“Very funny. What’s on the agenda for today?”
Gage stepped closer, walking around her as he took in her outfit. “Wardrobe. You need a new one.”
She shook her head. “Not a whole wardrobe. I have plenty of clothes.”
“Are any of them sexy?”
She looked down at her mom jeans and faded black men’s T-shirt that said, “IT. I’m just in it for the cache.”
“I’m going to go out on a limb and say no. Probably not.”
Gage laughed. “Good answer.”
“I just need a couple sexy outfits,” she insisted.
“Mm-hmm.” He was totally ignoring her. “Come on.” He placed his hand on the small of her back and led her out of his office, closing and locking the door behind them. His hand remained on her back the entire ride down in the elevator to the parking garage beneath the building.
