Resisting the Brit

by Blair, Emelia

  When we pull apart now, we’re both gasping for breath.

  “I feel better,” I say, voice husky. “Less homicidal.”

  She laughs breathily, and I’m relieved to see her fear has disappeared.

  “I need to stop kissing you,” she says a few minutes later from where she’s perched on her desk, rubbing her hands over her face.

  I gesture openly with my hands. “I’m not protesting.”

  A dirty look is sent my way. “Of course not.”

  I’m sitting on the chair she has for visitors with my hand on her knee. The physical contact with Lana calms me down.

  “You started it,” I say with a faint smirk.

  “I know.” She sighs. “I’m trying to regret it, but it’s not working.”

  “Hopefully, we can work that kink out soon,” I suggest as I stand. Then, I study her face. “Will you be okay if I step out for a few minutes?”

  Lana’s jaw tightens. “Don’t kill him. I want to press charges. A little hard to do that with a dead body.”

  I make a noise of agreement. Without letting myself overthink it, I lean down and press my lips against her soft cheek. “Go out to dinner with me this Friday.”

  She tenses up, maybe waiting for me to say, ‘not as a date’, but I don’t.

  “Oliver…” Her voice is low, pleading, and I raise a brow.

  “A dinner. I won’t take more than what you offer.”

  “I want to.” She lowers her gaze. “But—”

  I step forward until I’m right in her personal space. She doesn’t push me away, just watches me warily.

  “I want you, Lana. Not just in my bed, but beyond that. I want all the little things. I want a relationship with you. I’m putting all my cards on the table right now. If you say ‘no’, I’ll back off completely. But I can’t keep playing these mind games with you.”

  Lana’s face falters. I see her yearning, so I push. “I’ve never met someone as fascinating. You’re like fire and wind, and I keep trying to catch you. When I stop, you come back to lure me in, then you slip out of my fingers again. Just give me a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ answer today. Right now.”

  Hesitation and wariness are written all over her. I take off her glasses, which she has put on at some point, and put them aside, wanting to strip her of all her barriers.

  “Dinner,” she finally says, and her defeat is my triumph. “I can do dinner.”

  When a small smile lifts my lips, she gives me one of her own, though it’s more uncertain.

  * * *

  By the time I go down, the man is being taken out of the building by a policeman.

  “Assault charges,” Lucas says grimly. “Not that he’ll be in there for long. His family is well off. He’ll have bail posted within the hour.”

  “Find out what you can about him,” I order Lucas, my fists clenching. “He had no reason to be here. If need be, Lana can get a restraining order against him.”

  Lucas stills, then turns to face me, his eyes narrowed. “How did you know he was forcing himself on Lana when we walked in? It took me a minute to figure it out.”

  I meet his gaze without flinching. “I didn’t.”

  With that, I walk away, leaving Lucas to gape after me.

  My next task is to talk to Caleb. So, I tell Val to hold my calls for the next hour and inform her I’m not to be disturbed.

  Caleb is in Manhattan, and he promptly answers the video call.

  I see the background of an office, wondering where he is. He’s been oddly flitting around over this past month and a half, as if searching for something.

  “Oliver,” he greets me. “Is something wrong?”

  I take a deep breath, knowing this little call could go one of two ways.

  “I’ve asked Lana out.”

  Caleb gives me a blank look, not saying anything for a few seconds before drawling, “And what, you want relationship advice?”

  I raise an eyebrow. “I want to know if that’s going to cause any problems for her.”

  “Lana’s a big girl. If you piss her off, she’ll kick your ass herself. Of course, Lucas and I are always willing to hold you down while she does.”

  The warning was delivered, laced with the threat of ‘hurt Lana and we’ll hurt you’.

  “Career wise, I meant.”

  Caleb frowns. “There’s no policy against employee relationships. Technically, you’re not even an employee. You work for the parent company on a temporary contract. If she wants to date you, it’s no one’s business but yours.”

  He pauses. “I noticed you didn’t ask whether you would be impacted by this.”

  He falls silent when he reads the answer in my eyes.

  I don’t care about myself.

  12

  Lana

  I park my car in the garage and sigh, resting my head on the steering wheel.

  It’s been three days since Matt barged into my office.

  I had been shocked and angry, but I haven’t contacted Fred yet, though a part of me blames him for this. I don’t understand my family or why they keep shoving rich men toward me. What exactly do they think it will achieve?

  Huffing, I get out of the car. Wanting some fresh air, I take the elevator to the ground floor and walk out the front doors of the building. The watchman nods in greeting, and I smile before making my way to the small park across from the building.

  Sitting on the bench, I let the chilly air tease my hair as I undo the severe bun I’ve had it in the entire day. Running my fingers through the strands, I idly think a shower would be nice right now.

  “Lana?”

  The familiar voice from behind me makes me freeze. I shift around, spotting the last person I want to see striding toward me. My voice is hollow. “What are you doing here?”

  I have very rarely seen Fred this furious, and I wonder what he has to complain about considering I was the one assaulted.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” he growls out at me once he reaches me. “Do you know the position you’ve put me in?”

  My blood grows colder with every word, my heart tightening at the accusatory tone. I manage to icily say, “I beg your pardon?”

  I’m on my feet now, not about to be pushed around by the likes of someone who’s the reason I was harassed. Fred might be taller than me, but my are belly is full of hatred, his face reminding me of the way Matt’s hands felt on my skin as he groped me, the way I had frozen in fear when he had kissed me as if he had every right to.

  “You placed charges against Matt? Have you lost your goddamn mind?” Fred roars, and I blink in the wake of his anger.

  “He assaulted me,” I grit out. “Did he tell you that?”

  “It was just a kiss, Lana. Geez, you didn’t have to overreact so much!”

  I widen my eyes as something akin to betrayal and horror creeps inside me. My voice is low, menacing even. “Say that again.”

  He gives me an impatient look, as if he’s wasting time here. “I’ve apologized to him on your behalf. He’ll come over tomorrow for dinner at your new place. I want you to apologize to him yourself. Behave and dress appropriately.”

  My breaths are coming out in pants, and I’m having a tough time wrapping my head around his words. “W-what?”

  Face annoyed as if I’m being particularly unreasonable, he says, “He’s from a rich family. Make sure he likes you.”

  I clench my fists. “He put his hands on me, against my will. He grabbed my chest. He would have forced himself on me if Oliver hadn’t walked in. And you want me to apologize for not letting him do it? You want me to cook him a meal, then spread my legs for him if it’s what he wants?”

  Fred narrows his eyes. “Don’t be so crude, Lana. And as far as that Oliver is concerned, I’ve talked to Dad. You’re no longer going to work there.”

  The anger swirling inside me is filled with frustration. I want nothing more than to hurt the man in front of me. My voice shakes with fury as I hiss, “I’m not some whore, you b
astard! If Matt comes near me, I’m taking a restraining order out on him. And as far as you’re concerned, Fred, I don’t care if you are my brother. I want you to stay away from me.”

  I take a step back, suddenly scared, no longer feeling as safe as I should. “You stay the hell away from me.” My voice trembles. I feel the wetness on my cheeks as anger gives way to inexplicable pain. “I’m not even a human in your eyes, am I? If Matt had managed to rape me in my office, you would have still come here, expecting me to apologize to him?”

  There’s a trace of uneasiness in my brother’s face now. “He didn’t. Don’t be ridiculous, Lana. He’s not that—”

  He’s reaching to grab my wrist. Suddenly frightened beyond belief, I scream, “Don’t touch me!”

  He freezes at my shout. Maybe the fear in my voice makes him reassess the situation because he gentles his voice. “Come on, Lana. Don’t be unreasonable.”

  I choke, the pain in my chest so sharp it’s getting harder to breathe past it. I want to curl in a corner to cry my heart out.

  “I don’t want anything to do with you or the family,” I gasp out, still trying to catch my breath.

  Fred’s eyes widen in shock. It seems he’s beginning to realize he might have crossed a line. “Let’s talk about—”

  “No!” I slap his hand away. “I’ve got nothing to say to you or them.”

  A hint of frustration tightens his jaw. “Lana—”

  A hand that is bigger than mine reaches out and closes—vice-like—around Fred’s wrist. Threateningly, a cold voice says, “She said she doesn’t have anything to say to you.”

  Caleb has a quietly menacing air about him as he glares at my brother. “Do I need to call the police?”

  Fred bristles. “Hey, man, this is—”

  “I wasn’t talking to you,” Caleb spits out dangerously. “Lana?”

  I seem to have lost my voice, so I shake my head.

  “I see,” Caleb responds calmly. And then he pivots around and punches Fred in the gut, making my brother crumple to the ground with a groan. “I don’t care if you are her family. Harass her like that again, and I’ll make sure you’re ruined financially.”

  Fred pales at the threat. I watch him scramble away before getting to his feet. “Lana, you can’t—”

  Caleb steps in front of me, his back blocking my view of Fred, as he says in a chilling voice, “Did I say you could talk to her?”

  “That’s my sister,” Fred growls.

  “Is she? Didn’t seem like it with the way you were trying to pimp her out.”

  Caleb’s statement strikes a chord in me. I flush in shame. Fred is silent for a heartbeat before hissing, “Don’t be absurd. She’s my—”

  “Leave, Fred,” I manage to get out. “I don’t want to see you again!”

  My brother shoots Caleb a scowl before stepping back. “This isn’t over, Lana.”

  He stalks away. My knees feel weak. Shaking, I slump onto the grass.

  Caleb crouches next to me, not saying anything. He shrugs out of his jacket, then flings it around my shoulders.

  “I’m okay,” I say dazedly. “I’m fine.”

  He doesn’t respond, just patiently waits next to me. I don’t know how long we sit there before he offers his hand. “Let’s sit on the bench.”

  He sits next to me on the wooden bench, then takes out a pack of cigarettes. I mumble, “I thought you quit smoking.”

  “I did,” he replies calmly, but then lights up, taking a drag before exhaling a stream of smoke.

  Silently, I sit by his side. From my peripheral vision, I watch him take out his phone. He fiddles with it before tucking it back in his pocket and taking another drag of the cigarette.

  “Thanks.”

  “Don’t mention it.”

  We continue to sit together, his presence calming me. I feel empty inside, as if somebody has scraped out everything and left nothing salvageable behind. My hands are limp in my lap, and I have no energy to move. There’s a numbness inside my chest I’m afraid to touch. Under it lies an unbearable pain that will shatter me if I acknowledge it. So, I sit still, trying not to jostle the wound.

  Footsteps and the sound of cloth rustling has me up slowly lifting my head, though it feels as though it weighs a hundred pounds.

  When I see a tall figure walking toward me, that familiar trench coat flapping around his knees, blue eyes filled with concern, I sense a crack in the flimsy barrier I’ve erected around myself.

  “Thank you,” I whisper to Caleb. He stands, grinding his cigarette out underneath his heel.

  “You’re welcome.” As Oliver approaches me, my friend gives me a look. “You know you just have to give the word for me to take care of this whole mess, right?”

  I study him, a soft sigh escaping me. “You know why I can’t.”

  He blinks languidly before shrugging. “You know where to find me.”

  “Lana!” Oliver seems worried. When I hand Caleb his jacket back, he nods before quietly leaving.

  I glance up at Oliver. Seeing him is like a dam pushing at me, threatening to break me. My voice cracks. “Want to get a drink? I think I could use one right now.”

  * * *

  Oliver wears anger well.

  He’s pacing in the apartment while I sit on the couch, soaking in his presence like a balm. My eyes are swollen. I rest my head on the back of the couch, unable to remove my gaze from the man who’s slowly becoming a crutch to me.

  He glances in my direction. The fury in his eyes dims to be replaced by softness. “You okay?”

  I shrug. “I don’t know.”

  My phone screen lights up for the twelfth time. When I note my father’s name on the caller ID, Oliver picks up the phone and it turns it off. “How do you plan on handling this?”

  Longingly, I gaze in the direction of the whiskey he won’t let me drink. “Alcohol would be a good start.”

  “Aside from that.”

  Sighing, I move my eyes to the ceiling, studying the patterns on the it. My voice sounds dull. “I don’t know, Oliver. I don’t exactly have a game plan on how to handle being pimped out by my family.”

  “You think Matt will come here tomorrow?”

  My heart aches. “Yeah.”

  “You don’t plan on—” He doesn’t finish his sentence, horror in his voice.

  I blink. “I won’t whore myself out to him if that’s what you’re asking.”

  He approaches until he’s directly in front of me, his hand reaching out, his thumb brushing my lower lip. “I don’t want that word on your lips.”

  Feeling exposed in a numb sort of way, I say, “I feel like one at this moment.”

  “Well, you’re not,” he states shortly, gripping my jaw in a firm hold. “You’re intelligent, talented, and driven. You are one of the most sought-after professionals in your field. And I’m telling you this as your boss, not your lover.”

  My breath gets stuck in my throat as his eyes pierce into mine. “Just because your family holds such an opinion about you, doesn’t mean it undervalues your achievement. They barely know you. They don’t see the way you break your back working at all hours of the day. They don’t see the sincerity in your work or how dedicated you are. They don’t know you.”

  Tears slip down my cheeks at his declaration. Gently, he wipes them away. “I see you. I know how hard you work and all you’ve achieved.”

  I close my eyes, hating I’m being so weak, and he sinks onto the couch next to me. “Do you want a few days off from work?”

  I shake my head. “No. Just—” I hesitate, and he regards me with a steady expectation. I murmur, “Can you stay here tonight?”

  His smile is dazzling, and he presses his lips to my forehead. “I’d stay here every night if you’d have me.”

  Chuckling, I burrow my head in his chest. “I bet you would.”

  His presence drives away the hurt, and I let myself be enveloped by it.

  The next morning, he’s still there, curl
ed around me in bed, even though our clothes still on. He’s holding me so close, almost pinning me down with his weight. It’s comforting. I lay like that for a while, enjoying his body heat, feeling as if it is cleansing me of the trauma my family has caused.

  His warm breath rushes over my throat. I snuggle closer, not wanting to remember the events of last night. A soft rumbling in Oliver’s chest makes me shift to see him.

  He’s watching me, alert, amusement in his eyes. “I didn’t take you for a cuddler.”

  Color rushes to my cheeks. I try to wriggle out from under him, but he’s pinning me down. I can’t move an inch unless it’s to get closer.

  “I-I wasn’t—” I stammer. He grins, leaning down to brush his lips over mine, soft, chaste, making me want more.

  “I like it.”

  I swallow, our proximity making me want to press my legs together. Overwhelming me. I can’t help but remember that night in his office when he took me on his couch, making me scream his name. I can still feel his touch ghosting over my skin, pulling at my nipples in sharp movements that had me whimpering in need, my legs spreading to welcome him.

  I don’t know what Oliver reads in my expression—perhaps it’s helpless desire because he leans closer. This time, his kiss is wetter, dirtier, as I part my lips and he licks into my mouth, causing me to moan. He sucks on my tongue, one hand trailing down to rub at my pussy through my clothes. His fingers massage it with vicious patience, my breathing becoming harsher as I writhe under him.

  Helpless under his administrations, I buck my hips into his hand. He murmurs, pulling away to watch my face. “That’s it. Come for me, sweetheart.”

  The authority in his voice makes me clench around the emptiness, then I’m falling apart with a soft cry as he makes me comes without even entering me.

  Hazy in the aftermath, I sink into him. He runs his hand over my hair. “How do you feel?”

  As I lay there, I sigh. “I don’t know. I don’t want to talk to them. I don’t want to think about them. I don’t know what would have happened if Caleb hadn’t shown up yesterday.”