by Cole, Jagger
But I’m not focusing. My attention is shit right now. I keep glancing up past Travis to Ella. She’s reaching with her arm out, penciling in a design almost out of reach. My eyes drop down to the hem of her skirt. I groan.
It’s pulling dangerously high up the backs of her thighs. It’s past the hem of those thigh-high tights. I grit my teeth and imagine it pulling higher, and higher…
My eyes slide over her again. This time, I freeze. She’s looking right back at me. Her cheeks blush. Her lip catches between her teeth, and I see lust in her eyes. She glances at Travis. Then back at me. Her face turns bright pink as she reaches down. She pinches the hem of her skirt, glances at the back of Travis’s head once more, and then lifts.
I groan. She pulls her skirt up over her soft, tight ass. I can see a black thong pulled taut between the globes of her ass. My pulse hums. My dick surges under the table.
“Mr. Heath?”
I drop my gaze back to Travis. “Yes?” I growl, annoyed by his interruption.
“Do you think we could get the variance for the wine garden?”
I glance down to where he’s pointing… right at the spot where the nursing home currently is. On the new plans, it’s a row of boutique shops, a spa, and now a little “wine garden.”
It’s peak gentrification. It’s pure, unfiltered yuppie bullshit. And it’s going to net me about ninety million dollars when it’s done.
“Positive,” I grunt with confidence.
Travis beams. “Well good! Good, I think that’s really going to tie the whole experience together.”
I nod. I glance up at Ella again. But she’s not flashing me her ass this time. This time, she’s glaring at me, one of her headphones out of her ear. Her lips are pursed. The anger on her face is palpable.
Travis and I finish the meeting quickly. I shake his hand at the conference room door. Then I close it and turn back. Ella’s back is to me again. She’s furiously painting something high up on the ladder.
“Looks good.”
“Yeah, great,” she snaps sarcastically.
I roll my eyes at the sass and walk over. “Something on your mind?”
“Nope,” she answers testily.
“You sure you could hear every detail of my private business well enough from up there?” I growl.
She turns to glare at me. “I could hear just fine, thanks,” she snaps.
“There’s a word for that.”
She rolls her eyes. “It’s not eavesdropping when I’m ten fucking feet away.”
I fold my arms over my chest. “Something you want to say, Ella?”
She growls to herself. Then she snaps. She whirls on me and starts to clamber down the ladder angrily. When she’s back on the ground, she marches over to me furiously.
“Yeah, actually!” she hisses. “There is! I cannot believe you’re still…”
“What,” I growl angrily when she trails off. “That I’m still what?”
“Nothing.”
“No, please, say it,” I grunt. “That I’m what, still taking down the nursing home?”
She purses her lips. “Yes.”
“And what would have changed my mind, Ella?” I snarl. My eyes narrow. “Or has that been the plan here?”
Her jaw drops. She stares at me furiously. “Excuse me?!”
“It’s a simple question,” I grunt. “Is that what this is? What last night was?”
Her face is livid and red. She slowly shakes her head. “You’d better watch what you’re implying, Cormac,” she hisses.
I know I’m out of line. But I’m angry. I don’t like the blurring of the lines here. “Oh, please,” I snap. “The skirt? Flashing your fucking panties at me? Everything about last night?”
Her eyes narrow. Her lips purse tightly. “You’re such an asshole,” she whimpers hoarsely.
“No, I’m not a sucker who falls for bullshit honeypot shit like—”
Something hits me in the face. All I see is blue. Then I realize it’s paint. She’s just thrown fucking paint in my face.
“Guess what? I quit.”
She grabs another small pot of paint and tosses it at me. Pink splatters across my face and my chest, mixing with the blue to drip all over the floor.
“Go fuck yourself, asshole.” She storms out, leaving me fuming in a puddle of acrylic blue and pink.
I grit my teeth. I really, really need to stop going head-to-head with this girl when she’s got paint nearby.
14
Ella
“Boy trouble?”
I gasp in shock. I almost drop my keys. I whirl outside my apartment door to see my across the hall neighbor smiling at me. The cat lady who’s name I actually don’t remember. She’s got a paper grocery store bag in her arm, but I swear I never even heard her walking up the hallway.
“Um, what?”
“Boy trouble.” She shrugs. “You look pissed.”
“Oh, yeah, I…” I frown. “Sort of.”
“Tracy,” she jabs a hand out. Every finger on it has a ring on it. And every ring is a cat. Her sweater sleeve is also so covered by cat hair it almost looks like a costume.
“Uh, Ella,” I smile politely and quickly shake her hand. God do I miss Delphine living here.
“You like cats?”
I knit my brows. “Oh, uh, kind of?”
She laughs. “Good one!”
I keep smiling while I reach back to twist my keys, unlocking the door.
“Look, you want some advice?”
Not really.
“Sure!” I smile politely.
“Men are a dime a dozen. Men leave.” She nods and then looks at me expectantly.
“Oh, right. Well, thanks for the advice, Tracy.”
“Now cats?” She sighs happily. “Cats don’t leave. Isn’t that right, lovies!?” She turns to yell it through her door. The loud sounds of meowing echoes back. I quickly unlock my door and smile again.
“Well, thank you. Nice to meet you officially, Tracy.”
“Do you want to meet them? My cats, I mean.”
“Some other time?”
“Well don’t be a stranger!”
I quickly step into my apartment and close the door. I make a giant mental note to never, ever buy a cat.
I drop my bag on a chair and trudge into my kitchen. I crank on some music and open my fridge. There’s wine, thank God. I pour a glass and take a sip. Then someone starts knocking on my door.
I groan. Great. Not only am I living across the hall from the crazy cat lady, but she’s got no boundaries either. Why the hell did I even say anything to her? I gulp my wine and cross the room. I unlock my door and swing it wide.
Then I gasp.
“You,” I mutter, quickly recovering. I glare up into Cormac’s face. “What do you want?”
He looks his usually stern, grumpy self. But he doesn’t look angry like he did before. He runs his fingers through his hair and sets his jaw. “I was out of line earlier,” he grunts.
“No, you weren’t.”
Cormac frowns.
“No, out of line suggests you deviated from your norm,” I say thinly. I glare at him. “I think we can both agree that asshole is your norm.”
He glares at me. His jaw grinds, and his eyes flicker hotly over mine. I tremble. God, why is he so hot when he’s all grouchy and angry like this? I know I’m supposed to be mad at him for acting like an asshole. But that snarly, fierce look on his face makes me weak. That growl to his voice makes me ache for him.
But I force a scowl onto my face. I make myself mad at him.
“Let me make it up to you.”
I smile thinly. “By not tearing down a nursing home to put up a yuppy as fuck wine garden?”
His brows furrow. “I was thinking more like dinner.”
I blush in surprise. “Excuse me?”
“Dinner. Food, eating. That sort of thing. And just you and me.” He shrugs. “I don’t have a very full social network.”
“Gee, isn
’t that shocking.”
The grumpaholic himself frowns. “Look, would you like to have dinner or not?”
“Like a date?”
His frown deepens. “Maybe it would be better to think of it as a business meeting, over food.”
I smirk at him. “And what business would we discuss?”
“Painting.”
I purse my lips and weigh it out. Finally, I shrug. “Fine.”
“Try to contain your excitement” he grunts.
I grin in spite of myself. “Fine, yes. Dinner would be good.”
“Great.” He holds his elbow out. “Shall we?”
I blink. “What, now?”
“Yes?”
“Cormac, I’m not really dressed…” I blush when I look down. I’m dressed in the probably too-short skirt and thigh-highs that I definitely wore today to tease him with.
Cormac frowns. “I’m sure it’s fine.”
I smirk. “Yeah? Think they’ll let me into one of your Michelin star places like this? Well let’s go!”
He frowns. I grin. “I’m joking. Let me go shower and change.”
We both pause, glancing at each other. I blush.
“You could wait here…” I blurt. “Or downstairs, it doesn’t matter to—”
“I’ll wait here,” he growls thickly. He steps into my small apartment. He closes the door behind him. I shudder. Somehow, the place feels even smaller now. It feels warmer in here. A lot, lot warmer.
“I, uh… I’m going to go shower,” I blurt.
“So you mentioned.”
I blush even deeper. “Think you can behave yourself?”
Good lord, what the fuck am I doing? Agreeing to a date was a questionable move. Inviting him in was a worse idea. Flirting with him is a downright awful plan.
But when he grins, I feel a throb of heat in my core. “Now why wouldn’t I be able to behave myself?”
I chew on my lip and look up at him. My skin is tingling.
“We don’t really seem to have a great track record of behaving when we’re alone,” I whisper.
“Funny how that is.” God, his voice is like whiskey and leather.
“Yeah, hilarious,” I breath. “Okay, shower.”
I whirl on my heel and half run to the bathroom. I close the door, my pulse racing. I crank the water on and strip down. I blush and tingle all over. Cormac Heath is in my apartment, fifteen feet away from me. And I’m naked.
My body trembles and throbs. I step into the water, still tingling all over. I still want him. I know he is who he is. I know this is such a terrible idea. But I can’t help feeling what I feel. It’s like he’s this force of nature drawing me in, and I can’t break free of the pull.
I close my eyes under the water. The water cascades down my body. It electrifies me with these illicit thoughts of Cormac running through my head. I squeeze my legs together. My hands slide over my hips…
The bathroom door opens.
I gasp and whirl. But I don’t scream or tell him to get out. I tremble instead. My pulse spikes and thuds.
“Cormac…”
The shower door opens, and he steps in with me. He’s naked, and his cock is rock-hard. His eyes burn into mine as he pulls me into his arms. I whimper when his lips crush to mine. He growls and presses me back into the tiled wall with his body pinning mine. I can feel his hot, throbbing cock surging against my pussy, and I moan.
“I tried,” he groans into my lips. His hand slides down over my stomach and right between my legs. I whimper when he feels how wet my pussy is. His finger rubs over my throbbing clit, and I gasp eagerly.
“At least you tried,” I groan.
“There’s no behaving around you, Ella,” he hisses. He kisses me fiercely. I moan when he spins me around and presses me to the shower wall. My nipples drag over the tiles. His fat cock throbs against my ass. His hand pushes between my legs, and he sinks two fingers into my wetness. I moan and reach back for him. My legs spread. My hand slips over his abs to wrap around his throbbing hard erection.
Jesus, he’s so big. I stroke him, getting wetter and wetter. I can feel his swollen crown brush my ass. It makes me crave all of him even more. He snarls and pushes his hips. His hand moves from between my legs to wrap around his shaft. He pulls my ass back with one hand on my hip. Then he groans and starts to guide his cock into me from behind.
I hiss and arch my back. I push backwards, taking him inside. With a grunt, he thrusts and plunges himself into me. I gasp and dig my nails into his hip. The other hand rakes the tiled wall. His mouth kisses down my neck before I turn my head to kiss him deeply as he pushes every thick inch into me.
He snarls and thrusts into me. His big cock saws out and then back in. His hands grip my waist and my ass hard, leaving marks. His muscled, huge body pins me to the wall, utterly controlling me as he rocks his cock into me.
“Cormac!” I moan. I can feel him snarling as he lets go of his control. It’s like a beast takes over. He growls and snarls into my ear and starts to fuck me hard. Pleasure washes over me. Desire I’ve never once felt explodes inside of me. I cry out and thrust back against him, desperate for more.
One hand delves between my legs. He starts to rub my throbbing clit as he plunges into me. We move faster, and our bodies smack wetly together. His rock-hard abs slap my ass. His fingers roll my clit. And his perfect cock fucks me like I’ve never felt before.
“I—oh fuck!” The release explodes with no warning. I scream his name and claw at the wall. I push back, desperate to feel him as deep as I can. He snarls and grinds his fat cock into me. I feel him surge and throb. Then I feel him coming with me.
He groans and twists my head to kiss my mouth. His cock pulses inside of me, and I feel his hot cum spilling deep. He holds himself there until we’re both trembling. He keeps me pinned to the wall, enveloped in his big arms.
“So,” he growls quietly into my ear. “Dinner?”
15
Cormac
Her eyes bug out when we step off the elevator. I grin to myself. I want to be modest and say I’m not trying to impress her. I could lie to myself that the only reason we’re at the most exclusive restaurant in the city is because I like the finer things in life these days. That I simply want to eat and drink only the best.
But the truth is, yeah; I am trying to impress her.
“Le Petite Maison?!” she hisses. She whirls to look at me. “Are you fucking serious?!”
The maître d’ scowls in Ella’s direction. But when he realizes who her date is, his face pales.
“Monsieur Heath!” He beams. “Welcome! Welcome!”
“Henri,” I nod. “Any space for two tonight?”
He smiles widely. “But of course, monsieur. Right this way, s’il vous plait.”
He gestures to follow him. I glance at Ella and hold out an arm. “Ready to eat?”
“Okay, forget that this place costs a fortune,” she hisses as we walk through the candle-lit, gilded, roof-top garden restaurant. “They’re booked on reservations for like two freaking years. I tried to bring my grandpa here for his birthday as a special occasion.”
“How’d that go?”
“Oh, they told me to go fuck myself in the nicest French you can imagine.”
I chuckle. She shrugs.
“Whatever. Eating here would have gotten me evicted anyways.”
“Oh, we’re going dutch tonight, by the way.”
She giggles. “Good luck with that. I’m ordering the most expensive thing on the menu.”
I smile widely. It occurs to me that it’s one of the most real, genuine smiles I’ve had in years. I glance down at the girl on my arm and grin. She stands out here. She’s wearing a gorgeous black cocktail dress. But she’s still got the blue streaks in her hair and the nose ring.
“People are staring,” she mumbles.
“They probably think you’re a famous rock star or something.”
“Get me two glasses of champagne and I just might start
singing.”
I laugh. Her hand grips my arm a little tighter. I’m not used to feeling this good. But goddamn, I could get used to it.
Three courses and not two but three glasses of bubbly later, we’re both grinning widely.
“Good?” I smirk.
“Yeah, it was okay. I’ll reserve my opinions for my yelp review.”
I laugh, loudly. She grins at me. Behind her, a string quartet starts to play next to an open, candle-lit area of the patio. A few other patrons get up and begin to slow dance. I don’t have to think about it. I stand and offer my hand. Ella raises a single brow.
“What, really?”
“Yes, really.”
“I-I think I’m good.”
“I think you’re dancing with me. Come on.” I take her hand and pull her to her feet. I lead her out to the floor and then slide my hand around her waist. I cup the small of her back and draw her close. The heat of her body and the familiarity of her scent make my heart thrum. It makes my cock surge and my ache for her grow.
“Okay, what is this,” she says quietly. She looks up at me, both of us swaying and moving gently with the music.
“Dancing,” I growl.
She rolls her eyes. “No, I mean what’s your angle?”
“You really do think the worst of me, don’t you?”
“Oh, no, it was sheer respect and admiration that drove me to deface your face all over town.”
“Not just my face,” I mutter. She giggles.
“There’s no angle here, Ella,” I growl softly. “Just you and me.”
“And dancing.”
“And dancing.”
She pulls closer to me. Her hand tightens in mine. Christ, she looks beautiful.
“I heard something about you.”
I chuckle. “Uh-oh.”
Ella grins. “You designed that conference room.”
“Yeah.”
She laughs. “Just ‘yeah’?! Cormac, that space is amazing! You’re really good at design.”
I smile and shake my head. “In another universe, I’m an architect. I was actually going to go to school for that.”
