Afternoon Delight Scrivener

by Piper Rayne

His birthday is in February, so he’s already turned twenty-seven. Fuck me. Why do I feel so bad for not remembering? I bet he doesn’t remember mine.

  “You forgive me?” I grab the coat off the hanger because I need to escape this area. It’s like a sexual trifecta with him, me and a bed five-feet away.

  “You could make it up to me...give me a belated birthday gift,” he says from behind me.

  “I can only imagine what you had in mind.” I stop in the family room and push one arm into my coat when suddenly the back of the coat is held up for me.

  “Nah, you never were the birthday blow job kinda girl, were you?”

  I say nothing because there’s currently a fire igniting between my thighs and I know it’s only going to spread.

  “I think you loved my cock more than I did,” he says in a low, gravelly voice.

  There it goes, a full five-alarm fire between my thighs.

  I slide my arm through my other sleeve. His fingers brush the nape of my neck as he straightens the collar.

  “November third,” he whispers my birthday into my ear. “Figured you were wondering.”

  “You figured wrong.” I move to the table to grab my clutch, my eyes never meeting his. “I don’t like to be late.” I yank open the door, but he grabs the edge, motioning for me to go first.

  I was so wrong about this only being a ride. I’m not sure myself or my panties are going to survive.

  * * *

  Somehow, I did just that—survive. Mostly because I made sure to stay on my side of the Uber car. Thankfully, Dean took the signal and stayed on the opposite side. We discussed RISE mostly, he wanted more information on the charity he only volunteered his services to help so that he could have a “casual” run-in with me.

  I admit, Hannah’s right, I like the fact that he sought me out way more than I should.

  We make our way into the building and one of the three doormen direct us to the elevator and steps in with us.

  “Why did Hannah start RISE again?” Dean asks, dangerously close to me.

  “Because her ex was an asshole.”

  The doorman glances over his shoulder with a smirk.

  “Those damn ex-husbands,” Dean jokes. “Can’t live with them, can’t live without them.”

  Giggle number two. I’m going to count them the entire evening, so if you’d like to grab a piece of scrap paper, you’d be doing me a service.

  “I could live without mine.”

  His hand lands on my hip. It doesn’t mold, just stays there and the heat between us makes it feel like he’s branding me.

  The elevator dings and the doorman holds his hand on the doors so they don’t close on us. Dean’s hand finds the small of my back to lead me out.

  “Have a good night.” The gentleman nods to us.

  “You as well. Thank you.” Dean puts out his hand, shakes it with what I assume is money.

  “Where did the farm boy go?” I ask.

  “I told you I’ve changed.” He shrugs.

  We stop in front of a woman dressed in black and white who’s holding her hands out. “May I?”

  Dean helps me with my coat and hands it over to the woman, and then sheds his leather jacket. For some reason, I have a momentary lapse of judgment. Before he hands it over, I twirl around and place a hand on his chest. “Don’t go stripping away the old you completely.”

  He smiles down at me, his hand covers mine and we stare into each other’s eyes for a moment. I want to look away. I need to look away.

  “Chelsea!”

  Thank God.

  “I’ll be keeping that.” Dean keeps his jacket, sliding his arms back through the sleeves, leaving his cool persona intact.

  “You look gorgeous.” Victoria approaches, Reed at her side. “Spin.”

  “No.”

  “Come on, spin.” Victoria’s eyes are expectant. Are they handing out crack at this party? What the hell is wrong with her?

  “No.”

  Dean steps up beside me and links his fingers through mine and holds our hands up in the air between us. For some reason that I can’t fathom, I don’t pull away.

  “Oh, I’m not supposed to like you,” Victoria says with dreamy eyes.

  “You’re Victoria?” Dean asks.

  Reed steps closer, putting his arm around his woman and planting his hand on her hip. “And I’m Reed.”

  “Down dog,” I joke. “This is Dean.”

  “Dean?” Reed questions and then he removes his hand from Victoria and extends it out to Dean. “The ex-husband?”

  “The one and only.” Dean shakes his hand while still holding my arm up with his free hand. I fight to lower my hand, but he’s stronger and wins out.

  I spin quickly to get it over with. Victoria claps. “Just gorgeous. Love the dress.”

  I swear she’s transformed into Mary Poppins since Reed came into her life.

  “I couldn’t agree more, Victoria.” Dean’s hand extends to Victoria.

  She stares at it and then glances to me, hesitantly letting Dean’s big hand swallow her petite one.

  “You look beautiful. Spin,” I say back to her with a shit-eating grin.

  She laughs, spinning without the assistance of Reed. Even does a curtsey.

  “Reed, are you giving her drugs?” I ask.

  He chuckles and kisses her temple. “If happiness is a drug, then she’s overdosed.”

  I roll my eyes. “They’re newly together.” I point to the happy couple and look at Dean.

  He nods. “Hopefully they’ll rub off on you.”

  I roll my eyes and glance around the room, trying to spot Hannah’s German Shepard, Lucy. When I don’t spot her trying to climb up anyone’s leg, I turn to Victoria.

  “Where’s Lucy?” I ask.

  “Hannah said things did not go well when the caterers came to start setting up, so she begged Tad to take her for the evening.

  I chuckle. “She’s going to owe him big time.”

  “Who’s Lucy?” Dean asks.

  Before I can respond, Reed spots someone behind me. “Raegan!” Reed raises his hand and Victoria slides to the side to see past Dean.

  “Oh. My. God.” Victoria’s face pales.

  “I told you, she doesn’t like me. See, she brought a date with her.” Reed argues against Victoria’s jealousy of a lawyer who did some intellectual property work for us pro bono. He introduced us to her and she helped us out of a jam.

  Victoria’s hand smacks Reed in the stomach. “Give me some credit.” Her eyes find mine and her voice lowers. “It’s the silver fox.”

  “What?” I spin around and sure as shit, the silver fox is helping Raegan with her coat and handing it to the lady who just took mine.

  I spin back around to Victoria, my gaze scanning the immediate area for Hannah.

  “Last we saw her, she was on her way to the kitchen to make sure everything was going smoothly.” Victoria bites her lip.

  “What am I missing?” Reed asks. “Is that Hannah’s boyfriend?”

  “NO!” we both screech.

  “It’s her ex-husband’s attorney,” Victoria says.

  “Divorce attorney,” I clarify.

  “So, he might be more hated than me at this party?” Dean asks.

  Reed and Victoria laugh.

  “I don’t hate you,” Reed chimes in.

  “I don’t…” I narrow my eyes at Victoria. “Let’s find Hannah,” she suggests.

  Whose side is she on?

  “I’ll be back.” I eye the silver fox and then Dean.

  “I make friends easily.” He slips his hands into his pockets and shrugs.

  “I’ll show you to the bar.” Reed nods in the direction of the other room.

  Dean’s smile dims slightly for the first time tonight and my stomach flips. His smile returns after a moment and he leans forward so his lips are at my ear. “Relax. As I think you remember, I’m a big boy.”

  I suck in a breath and he winks, nodding his head in the dire
ction I need to head in.

  Go Chels. Move your feet. Up and down. You’ve been doing it since you were eleven months old.

  His hand lands on my back and he nudges me forward.

  “Come on.” Victoria’s already ten steps ahead of me, her expression telling me we don’t have time to waste. There’s a bomb we have to diffuse, and it’s set to go off soon.

  Victoria and I meet Hannah as she’s coming out of the kitchen. She’s elegant in a conservative yet sexy champagne colored dress. Her long chestnut hair flowing down over her exposed shoulders, her smile bright and welcoming.

  “Chelsea, hi. Is Dean here?” She pulls me into a light embrace and we half attempt to kiss each other’s cheek without messing up our makeup. “I bet he lost his voice when he saw how gorgeous you look.”

  “Dean never loses his voice.”

  “Where is he?” She looks at Victoria. “Are him and Reed doing shots at the bar?” She laughs softly.

  “Um, Hannah?” Victoria places her hand on Hannah’s forearm.

  “Is there a problem with food or drinks? This is why I hire party planners. I don’t want to be in charge. Let me go find her.” She steps forward to slide between Victoria and me.

  “Don’t go in there.” My hand lands on Hannah’s forearm, but a lot firmer than Victoria’s touch.

  Hannah stops, stares at me in bewilderment. “What am I missing?”

  “Raegan’s here,” Victoria says and cringes at me from behind Hannah’s back.

  “Oh, great.”

  “She brought a date,” Victoria continues.

  Hannah smiles and looks from me to Victoria.

  “She brought the guy from Torrio’s.”

  Hannah says nothing, her smile still in place on her face. Maybe she doesn’t understand.

  “The silver fox,” I say.

  “I understand. Okay, thanks for telling me.” Her smile widens and glows if that’s even possible.

  “I don’t think you did,” I said, glancing at Victoria for a quick second.

  “No, I did. Roarke Baldwin is here. I heard you.” Turning to both of us, she seems too calm and put together. Like the eye of a hurricane or the calm before the storm. “Let’s go greet them, shall we?”

  She steps forward first, Victoria and I following like the two other Charlie Angels in our clique, exchanging a ‘what-the-fuck’ look. I can’t help the feeling that this is either going to go very, very well or very, very bad.

  Chapter Twelve

  Reed and Dean step away from the bar when they see us approach. My head might be somewhere else, but my eyes focus in on Dean’s left hand. To say the glass with ice and dark liquid with a lime doesn’t scare me would be a grave understatement. Tonight is the real test to see if he really has changed.

  Victoria shakes her head to Reed who halts in his footsteps, watching from afar. Dean follows suit, bringing the drink to his lips, eyes intent on the scene that’s about to unfold.

  “Raegan,” Hannah coos with a fakeness I’ve never heard from her mouth.

  “Hannah.”

  The two lightly hug, kissing cheeks like I did with Hannah moments ago.

  Victoria and I stand in the wings like the pink ladies.

  “I love the dress,” Hannah compliments her. “The color brings out your sparkling green eyes.”

  I glance to my side at Victoria. Never in the time I’ve known Hannah have I seen her have such a Valley of the Dolls/Stepford Wife vibe.

  “Thank you. You look stunning as always.”

  Hannah waves off the compliment. “I’ve owned this forever. Glad it’s still in style. After my divorce and his lawyer taking me to the cleaners, I rarely shop anymore. I’ve had to get inventive, you know?”

  Raegan’s timid smile suggests she’s uncomfortable with Hannah’s forthcoming. “Well, it’s a great dress.”

  Roarke is talking to someone just a few feet away and as I wait for him to notice Hannah, my heart starts racing.

  “Thanks. I thought you were bringing a date?”

  “Yes.” Raegan glances back behind her. “He’s right there.”

  Hannah pretends she didn’t know, exaggerating her movements as she leans to the side to spot the silver fox. “Oh, you brought Roarke Baldwin?”

  It’s like watching a master, ladies and gentlemen. I want to be Hannah Crowley someday.

  “You know him?” Raegan asks.

  “Not personally. Not in a friendly way. Just from the courtroom.”

  Raegan being the smart girl she is, puts all the pieces together now.

  “No way,” she says, her eyes wide.

  Roarke Baldwin’s reputation is well known. He’s the man you hire to stick it to your ex.

  “Yes, he was my ex’s lawyer, but hey, no hard feelings.”

  If we were anywhere else, I’d cough out bullshit, but this is Hannah’s fight.

  “I’m so sorry, I wouldn’t have brought him,” Raegan says in a hushed voice.

  Hannah smiles. “Of course. How would you know?”

  Roarke breaks apart from his conversation and all four of us women stare at him as his attention flickers our way.

  He’s a man who seems to have it all together, but for the briefest moment, I see fear flash in his eyes. But instead of running, he proves his reputation of a damn pit bull, approaching with a swagger that would suggest he expected this all along. Like he knew this was Hannah’s condo.

  “Ms. Crowley,” he extends his hand, a large, expensive watch peeking out from under his suit sleeve.

  “Why Mr. Baldwin, I have to say, I never thought I would host you in my home.”

  Raegan’s eyes are volleying between the two and I think we all probably look like a pack of kids watching their parents argue.

  “It’s a great place. Family owned?” he asks with a smirk.

  “Is that your assumption because you weren’t able to take it from me?”

  “It was just a question,” he says in a lazy way.

  “Questions, questions.” Hannah’s smile hasn’t faltered and I’m wondering how long until she loses that high society etiquette and punches the guy square in the nose.

  Dean and Reed approach and at this point I’m grateful.

  “Hi,” I say, and Dean hands me a glass of wine while he watches on, his eyes on the couple.

  “We were thinking we’d go out on the terrace,” Reed suggests.

  Victoria nuzzles up to him and accepts the glass of wine he has for her. “Perfect.”

  “Hannah, you’re good?” I lower my voice and lean into the back of her head.

  She nods.

  “Please enjoy yourself, Mr. Baldwin, and hands where I can see them. Maybe there’s a silver fork somewhere you think my ex deserves.”

  Roarke’s eyes sparkle with mischief and I think there’s a high probability he’s envisioning her naked right now.

  These two have some sort of weird chemistry.

  Two men walk into the room and Hannah excuses herself to greet them. Roarke’s eyes watch her leave. I really hope Raegan isn’t invested in Roarke because I’m sure he has eyes for someone else.

  * * *

  “In the mood for Taco Bell?” Dean asks when we climb in the Uber.

  “I’m in the mood for my bed.” I slip off my one heel, running my barefoot along my leg.

  I’m not trying to be sexy, these new heels are killing me.

  “Perfect. We’re still in sync.” He opens up his arms then pats his lap for me to put my foot there.

  “Alone,” I add.

  He continues to pat his leg. “Let me cop a feel before I drop you off?”

  Reluctantly, I allow him to massage my feet. Maybe then he’ll realize he’s not into relationship stuff and he’ll skip along.

  The minute his hands land on my foot though, my head falls to the glass window and my eyes close and a moan squeaks out of me.

  “If you want me to act like a gentleman, stop with the noises.” He shifts my foot so I’m closer to
his knee than his crotch and I wish the tingling sensation in my core would go away.

  “You still a Sox fan?” he asks.

  “Still a Cubs fan?”

  “You mean the World Series champs? Hell yeah.” The smirk on his face invites me to bring on my best comeback.

  “Yeah, that was two years ago.”

  “This is their year again, I feel it.”

  I roll my eyes. Whether it’s because of the foot rub or his words I’m not sure. “Rumor has it that the Sox are more likely to go farther.”

  The Uber driver glances through the rearview mirror at us.

  “Who are you listening to? WGN-AM?”

  “Silly Cubs fans, baseball is for Sox fans.” I lean forward and pat his shoulder. It’s a nice shoulder.

  He chuckles. “My company is having a party. Crosstown Classic. Would you like to join me?”

  “Are you asking for another date?” His thumb digs into the arch of my foot and I swallow down the long moan that wants to roar out of me.

  I hadn’t really thought this was it with us. I mean I only agreed to tonight, but the thought that our time was over did sadden me. Even though it shouldn’t. I forgot how easygoing Dean can be. No pressure, easy conversation, like not much can get under his skin. The entire night he mingled all while staying at my side. If I ventured off, he found someone to talk to. He didn’t spend the entire night hovering around the bar, he didn’t rush me out, and he didn’t brag about himself to anyone. Maybe Dean has turned over a new leaf. Or more likely he just had a good night.

  “Think of it like a favor,” he says.

  “A favor?”

  “I don’t want to show up solo.”

  He motions for my other foot and I oblige because I like to torture myself. He slips the heel from my foot, placing it down and goes to work on my other foot.

  “You expect me to go to Wrigley Field?” I screw up my face.

  “Technically, it’s rooftop. You don’t have to go in. If it helps, my boss is a ChiSox fan.”

  “He knows you’re a Cubs fan?”

  The conversation sounds juvenile, but honestly, jobs have been claimed, jobs have been lost, by what color you wear. In Chicago, if you’re a baseball fan, there’s no such thing as liking both teams. It’s one or the other. End of discussion.