Table of Contents
SLEEPING WITH THE FRIENEMY Title Page
I Hate You... Let's Fuck! by Crystal White
Growing Tension by Crystal White
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
Sensation Overload by Crystal White
- Prologue
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
About Crystal White
Her Office Subordinate by Monica Celeste
About Monica Celeste
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Tatiana & Foster
Copyright © 2014 Steam Books Erotica & Romance
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author or publisher except for the use of brief quotations in critical articles or reviews.
“I’d like you to oversee the convention on Wednesday.”
Tatiana’s boss, Mr. Spring, continued, “You’re one of our brightest employees and I think you’ll be able to keep everything organized and get us some new clients.”
“Thank you, sir. That’s a big honor.”
“It is,” he agreed. “Foster will be going with you to help out.”
Tatiana unsuccessfully tried to hide her sneer. “Why Foster, sir?”
“Why not?”
“He’s just so…pretentious.”
“He comes from money so he’s used to it. He’s a good kid. He’s a good worker and he’ll help you. He’s fantastic at smoozing and that’s what these big clients like.”
She rolled her eyes. “Of course,” she said, trying to sound respectful.
“Try to act professional, Tatiana. You two may not like each other, but this is an important convention and we can’t afford to lose any clients due to it.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you.” She smiled tightly and walked out of the office.
Tatiana couldn’t stand Foster. Calling him pretentious was putting it mildly. He was the most annoying creature she had ever had the displeasure of working with. He acted like everything was a big joke. He was in his early thirties but he acted like he was twelve-years-old half the time.
She sat down heavily at her desk and blew out a sigh. She twirled a finger around her long black hair as she stared at her computer screen. But she was a professional. She could do this. She could shove aside all her feelings and deal with him for one day.
“Hey,” Foster said, walking up and leaning a hip against her desk. “So I guess we’re going to the convention together tomorrow night.”
“I guess so.”
“You could try to pretend you aren’t pained by the mere thought of it.”
“I don’t have to start pretending until we’re actually at the convention.”
“What have I ever done to piss you off so badly?”
“You don’t like me any more than I like you, Foster, so don’t even try to BS me.”
“I don’t like you because you’re a frigid bitch. But I don’t understand why you don’t like me.”
She stared at him in disbelief. “Well, maybe because you say things like ‘you’re a frigid bitch’!”
“So you don’t like me because I’m honest?”
“Shut up, Foster.”
“Fine,” he said. “Who’s driving?”
“You are,” she said simply.
“I don’t suppose you would care to split the gas?”
“I don’t suppose I would.” She smiled and turned to her computer, turning the monitor on.
“And you wonder why I call you a frigid bitch.” He walked off, ignoring her glares.
The next day, Tatiana stood outside the office waiting, tapping her foot and stealing glances at her watch. Steam was rolling out of her ears by the time Foster’s little red Camaro roared to a stop in front of her.
“Get in,” he said.
“It took you long enough!” She got into the passenger side. “Christ, Foster, in this thing, you should have been here three hours ago.”
“You told me 4.”
“And it’s almost five!”
“Guess we better book it, then,” he said, flooring the gas, peeling out.
The convention was about as exciting as those things usually are. Tatiana had to admit that Foster was good with people. He knew when to turn on the charm and he knew when to buckle down and be serious. He also knew his shit when he was talking to the bigwigs. If she didn’t despise him so much, she’d probably be impressed.
She supposed he wasn’t too hard on the eyes, either. He had nice, lean features, he was probably about 5’11”, and he had pretty blue eyes. He also had an unruly mop of brown hair that looked like he hardly ever combed it, but it worked for him. All the female clients he talked to seemed to fall head over heels in love with him, giggling like little schoolgirls at his easy charisma and big smile.
“Seems like a pretty successful night thus far,” Foster said. “How about you?”
“I’ve met a lot of very high profile clients and I’ve sweet talked some people into giving us a call and getting quotes. I think yeah, it’s been a good convention. You certainly seem good with the lady clients.”
“You seem good with the old guys,” he said. “Must be a little bit of that chocolate charm, eh?”
Tatiana blinked. “Chocolate charm? Did you really just make a black joke?”
“It wasn’t meant to be racist, I swear.”
She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Maybe try not to use that phrase around big guys who can beat your ass.” Although she wouldn’t mind watching Foster get his ass kicked.
“Good plan.” He peered out the window. “It’s getting awfully rainy out there.”
“I’m pretty sure we aren’t sugar and we won’t melt.”
“You know I’m sweet enough.” He flashed his big smile.
“I’m the one who’s chocolate, remember,” she quipped dryly.
“You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”
“No. Let’s go.” She walked toward the door. Foster tilted his head to the side.
“Stop staring at my ass, Foster!” she called over her shoulder.
It was a downpour out and they ran to Foster’s Camaro to avoid getting drenched. The drive was rough as he tried to avoid the large patches of flooded road. After nearly hydroplaning once, he started to take it slow. As they approached their entrance ramp, there was a “ramp closed due to construction” sign.
“Fantastic,” Foster said. “Grab that GPS between the seats and hit home for me.”
Tatiana grabbed the GPS unit and hit the power button. After two minutes, it still hadn’t loaded. “This thing sucks,” she stated.
“Where am I supposed to turn?” he asked.
“I don’t know! It’s still stuck on the title screen.”
“I just need to know where to next ramp is at.”
“I can’t do that if it’s stuck on the title screen, now can I? I’m sure if you keep going long enough, we’ll see a sign.” She shook the GPS slightly. “Have you updated this thing lately?”
“No. I’m supposed to update it?”
“I really hope that was a joke.”
“So you think I should just keep driving?”
“Yeah, there’s bound to be another ramp up here soon.”
Forty-five minutes later and there hadn’t even been a sign pointing them toward the highway, let alone a ramp. They were driving through a road enclosed by thick woods with the windshield wipers going at full blast.
“This is all your fault,” Foster stated.
“How is it my fault?”
“’Oh, just drive until you reach another ramp’!”
“You’re the one who has a GPS so out of date…”
“Because everything just has to be my fault, doesn’t it?”
“Only when it is your fault!”
The car began to sputter.
“Why is it doing that?” Tatiana asked.
“It just does that sometimes, don’t worry about it.”
The Camaro slowed, groaning, and sputtered out and died. Foster turned the key in the ignition. It whined, but didn’t start. The next time he turned the key, it did nothing.
“Did your battery just die?” she asked in disbelief.
“We’ll just give it a second and I’m sure it’ll be okay. It’s a little old.”
Foster tried again ten minutes later, twenty minutes later, and thirty minutes later. Nothing.
“This is ridiculous,” Tatiana said, pulling out her cell phone. She stared at the blinking ‘no service’ message at the top of her screen. “Do you have service?”
Foster pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and looked at the screen. “No,” he replied.
“That is just…great.” Tatiana practiced breathing, trying not to freak out. Getting angry would not solve anything…
“Wow. This sucks, huh?” he asked.
Oh, God, that was it. She ripped the door handle, shoving the door open. She slammed it shut. Foster got out, blinking through the raindrops.
“You are such an idiot!” she roared, rounding the car. “We are lost – stranded – in the middle of nowhere and it’s all your fault!”
He slicked his soaked hair out of his face. “It isn’t my fault! You gave bad directions.”
“You gave bad everything! Bad GPS, bad car, bad cell reception area…”
“I don’t control everything, Tatiana! You can’t blame me for the cell reception. Or my car breaking down, for that matter.”
“Of course I can!”
“Oh, right. Of course you can. Because you’re a bitch!”
She slapped him across the face. He grabbed her arm, holding it tightly.
“Let me go!” She brought her other hand up to hit him and he nabbed it. He dragged her close, kissing her.
“Mmm…!” She struggled for a moment until he parted her lips, roughly caressing her tongue, his teeth tugging at her lips. She wrapped her arms around his neck, melting into his embrace, her body instantly warming in the cool air.