by Naomi West
And there was only one person in the world who would have sent them.
Felice picked up the card in shaking fingers, unsurprised to see Clay’s name.
Babe:
I’m sorry for what I said yesterday. I was jealous. Please forgive me.
Clay
Felice cringed, unable to feel anything but ill at the sight of the present. “Odd, before, something like this would have made me happy.” Tears pricked the edges of her eyes, and she had to swallow hard around the lump that formed in her throat. “So if you don’t want Clay, what do you want?” she asked herself, pretty sure she didn’t want to know the answer.
“No, you want Clay back. That’s what’s best for the show and your family.”
Sighing, Felice was pretty sure Pierce wouldn’t like the flowers one bit. He’d know who sent them immediately, too. Glancing down at the counter, she noticed another little gift for her; it was a little red box with a ribbon around it, containing a gold and diamond tennis bracelet. It was ugly, but then Clay’s taste in jewelry had always been a little too austere for her. The bracelet was a little simpler than what she would have picked for herself. “But it’s the thought that counts,” she thought, but even that seemed to fall flat. “You think after months together, he would have picked up on the type of jewelry I liked to wear.”
But perhaps that was asking too much of anyone who didn’t care much for jewelry; Clay never wore it himself and would hardly know the difference between a tennis bracelet and a bangle.
Glancing around at the flowers and the bracelet, Felice frowned, then tossed the card into the garbage and the bracelet into one of the kitchen drawers. “Perhaps I can play it off like I got them for myself. When Pierce learns they are from Clay, he might think his work done and just leave. I have to keep him from thinking I’ve won.”
“I really don’t want him to leave.” That thought filled her with a little more worry than she wanted to admit to anyone. Even herself.
Chapter Eleven
Pierce
Pierce had a bad feeling about this “meeting” from the very start.
When Felice called him downstairs into her kitchen for a serious sit-down, Pierce could feel the tension in his shoulders building. He hadn’t missed the flowers delivered that morning, nor did he have any delusions on who sent them. He wasn’t stupid; he could see that the flowers, which were very beautiful and matched her obsession with the color white, didn’t make her as happy as she thought she should be.
“We need to start working harder to ensure that I get Clay groveling and back to me as soon as possible. This,” she waved her hand dismissively at the roses, “is a good start. He’s missing me, but he isn’t begging. I need him to beg before I take him back. I need him to be depressed and realize what he’s missing, or else nothing will even change. I won’t have him cheat twice, so he needs to remember how much he used to love me.”
Tapping her chin with a manicured finger, Felice pursed her perfect lips, drawing Pierce’s attention. The cupid’s bow of her lips was the perfect shape; they always looked like she was aching for a kiss. And that warmed Pierce’s blood in ways he didn’t want to admit out loud.
“So, we need to have to seen with me in public more often. That TMZ interview will come out tomorrow, and I want that same kind of energy for our next outing.”
Pierce growled in the back of his throat. “I think that’s a little too subtle for your airhead ex, Felice.” He was frowning, remembering how much he’d wanted to strangle the guy the night before. “We need to be seen as a couple, or else he’ll never take me as a serious threat.” Standing, Pierce starts to collect the flowers. “We should also throw these away in a way that can be seen from the street. If he drives by, it will make it absolutely obvious you’re over him and have moved on.”
Gasping, Felice ran the tips of her fingers over some of the soft, beautiful roses in front of her. “But they are so pretty.”
“Do you want to win this bet and your idiot ex back or not?” Piece turned his burning brown eyes to her emerald ones, getting caught up her in gaze. It was hard to break away from those beautiful eyes, but he managed, turning to pick up two of the vases and taking them out to the trash.
Felice said nothing, though she pouted adorably when he took the rest of the roses out too, positioning the can so the roses could be seen from the street. Pierce took a wicked kind of glee at throwing Clay’s money away, even though this sort of display probably didn’t even register to someone with his kind of money. He really hoped that spoiled little brat would drive by and see those wilting white blooms sticking their heads out of the trash by the street.
She stood on the front porch and watched him, frowning as he headed back toward the house. “I hope this works,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “Those were the prettiest white roses I’ve ever seen.”
Filled with disbelief, Pierce gestured around the house. “So why don’t you just buy yourself some? You don’t have to wait for some asshole to purchase them for you. You literally have half the world eating out of your palm and you’re the wealthiest person I’ve ever met; you deserve to be able to buy yourself flowers without Clay having to do it for you.”
Felice stared at him, her mouth opening and closing a few times, like she couldn’t quite come up with a reply.
“I- I guess you’re right.” But she didn’t quite sound convinced. What else could he say to convince her? He went back inside past her, irritated with this whole situation. How could she be so blind? Felice was not the kind of woman who needed her mother or Clay to make her world a perfect place. She had that kind of power all by herself.
But Felice was the type of girl who could only play by the rules. And Pierce, no matter how sound his advice might seem, was just a guy who broke them.
He had to remind himself again that he wasn’t here to actually become part of Felice’s life. He was just here for the money.
Just here for the money. Maybe if he said it to himself enough, he would start to believe it.
# # #
Felice
Feeling a little awkward, Felice could do nothing but watch as Pierce tossed all of those lovely roses. She mourned their loss, not because of who sent them, but merely because they were so beautiful. They looked like they belonged in her kitchen, and she didn’t really want to part with them. Why couldn’t he have thrown out the ugly tennis bracelet instead?
“It’s for a good cause,” she told herself again. But every day that went by without Clay by her side, it seemed like less and less of good cause. She didn’t want him anymore. But she needed him.
Confused and unhappy, she stood on the porch, trying to ignore Pierce as he took out the last of the pretty flowers to the trash.
After washing his hands in the kitchen sink like a barbarian, Pierce turned back to Felice, his eyes locked on her face. The sudden scrutiny made her a little uncomfortable, even as it lit all sorts of fires down low in her belly. What was he staring at so intently?
“So, why are you doing this?” he asked, finally, his voice void of emotion.
“To get Clay back,” she said, almost automatically.
Pierce narrowed his chocolate eyes at her, making her squirm a little in her seat. But she refused to back down. “Do you even want Clay back?”
Felice laughed. “Of course not! But it’s the right thing to do. He’s stable and photogenic. You know, for the show. He’s good for my career. He’s good for TV. We polled a bunch of people, and they loved him.”
Looking flabbergasted, Pierce just stared at her for a long moment. Finally, he said, “Are you trying to find a boyfriend or are you looking for an employee? Because it’s starting to sound like you don’t even know what a lover is supposed to be like.”
There was a kind of standoff in the kitchen for a moment, Felice being stubborn and Pierce following suit. They stared each other down, brows furrowing and tempers flaring, until Felice looked away, sighing and putting her face down into her hands.
“I know what it looks like. And I hate him for what he did to me and my best friend. You know he lied to her to get her in bed with him?”
Pierce made a noise like a growl in the back of his throat as he poured himself a cup of coffee from the machine. He poured a little of the creamer in, sipping it without even stirring it, like the barbarian he was.
“I no longer enjoy going to work. I no longer have the drive that I used to have for Steel Dom Couture. It was, up until Clay cheated on me, my whole life. And now, it feels — ” She hesitated for a moment, taking a deep breath. Taking her face out of her hands, she looked up at him, feeling tears fill the edges of her eyes. “It feels empty.
“I’m trying to patch things up with Jenn, but it all feels empty.” The word seemed to explain everything she had felt since she walked in on the two of them having sex. Although the void had temporarily been filled with the anger, desire for vengeance, or despair at points, the fact was that Clay had left a hole in her. A hole she’d been desperately trying to fill. But Clay was the only thing that seemed to be the right-shaped puzzle piece to put her life back together.
Felice got up from her seat, her feet carrying her back and forth over the white tile of the kitchen floor. Pierce watched her every step, a bird of prey waiting for his chance to swoop in and make the kill. “I have to think about the family and the TV show and my store. And Clay is the best person to fill the void. He is what we need — ”
Felice didn’t get a chance to finish her sentence. Pierce finally lost interest in listening, rushing forward to capture her in his massive arms. She cried out in surprise as she collapsed under his sudden weight. She ended up on the loveseat next to the TV, Pierce positioned above her. The position reminded her very poignantly of the dream she’d woken up from that morning, and her heart stopped in her chest, her body reacting immediately from his bruising touch.
“Do you love Clay or not?” Pierce asked, pinning her to the couch.
“Let me up,” Felice snapped, her temper flaring just as quickly as her lust. “Now.”
A snort of frustration. “Just answer the question.”
“I don’t know! Now let me up!” Felice squirmed, trying to break free of his impossible hold.
Before she could say anything else, Pierce had pressed his mouth to hers, leaving no room for words. His mouth was searing hot and lit every inch of her body on fire. Hyper aware of every place their bodies touched, Felice moaned like a porn star into his mouth, her body craving his like an addict.
Eyes boiling with passion, Pierce pulled back to stare down at her, holding her wrists in place. His breath was hurried like he’d run a race. Felice felt the same, her heart banging hard against her ribcage. “When will you ever just forget what is best for your show, your family, or your public and worry about what’s best for you, Felice?”
And she melted when he said her name. Pierce was the most beautiful thing in the world, and right then, nothing else mattered.
Chapter Twelve
Pierce
Fuck.
Pierce was pinning the most beautiful creature in the world to the couch, and his body had some very clear ideas where this should go next. Those beautiful, green, bedroom eyes glittered up at him like a promise. Pierce no longer seemed in control of his own body as he bent forward again, his mouth finding hers as though drawn there by gravity.
This kiss was far gentler, questioning. The warm, beautiful body underneath his arched up to meet him, her breasts brushing against his chest. It almost sent him over the edge; he nearly growled as he buried his face against her neck, nibbling, kissing, and teasing the hot skin he found underneath her perfect, blonde hair.
She squirmed underneath him, little pornographic noises slipping from her throat over and over again, egging him on.
Before he even realized he was drowning, he was in too deep to swim to the surface. Never in his life had he ever wanted anything as much as he wanted Felice. The desire for her body, for all of her, seemed to go deeper than his need for food, water, or air. At least at the moment. “How had she caught me so easily, so fast?”
Felice managed to wrestle her wrists free, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pulling him down on top of her body. Her legs she wrapped closer, pulling him like she could no longer live without him closer. Warm hands slid under the fabric of his t-shirt, caressing every dip and curve of his stomach. Pierce growled again, this time into her mouth, and the noise seemed to drive her harder.
They were kissing harder now, hands feverishly exploring each other’s bodies. Pierce ran his fingers reverently over every inch of her neck and shoulders, his touch trickling down her arms to her torso. The cinnamon scent of her filled him with a desire so keen it was painful, slicing deep into his self-control.
This was a mistake, and they both knew it, but nothing seemed to be able to stop them.
She cried out in pleasure as his fingers brushed over the curve of her breast, the electricity between them bringing sensations like neither had ever felt. His lips slid down her neck to her collarbones, tracing the long line of her shoulder around to the curve of her arm. Feeling her hands explore his body in turn was driving him crazy, and his erection strained almost painfully toward her.
Pierce had never wanted anything in the world like he wanted Felice.
“Please, Pierce,” Felice begged, her voice ragged with something deeper than lust. “Touch me.”
Pierce decided he liked it a lot when she begged. Without hesitation, his hands slid under her shirt of their own volition, his strong hands running along the soft, hot skin of her belly. Caressing every inch of skin, Pierce pulled the little sweater she wore up and over her breasts, then off completely. She lay before him, her mouth swollen from kisses, and her eyes dark with desire. Pierce’s eyes drank her in.
Suddenly, he dove forward, pressing his mouth against her body, finding the sharp curve of her collarbone again, then dipping lower. He found the lacy, silky edges of her bra, teasing the curves of her with lips and tongue as she moaned underneath him. She ground her hips against his, each movement driving Pierce forward.
They managed to pull each other out of most of their clothing, leaving almost nothing between them but a few, thin scraps of fabric. Felice closed her beautiful green eyes, her perfect lips parting as she threw her head back, her body melding to his. She moaned his name, content to writhe against his skin. Pierce tumbled her to the white carpet, groaning as he unclasped her bra, letting those perfect breasts free. They were beautiful, the little dusty pink nipples as hard as glass.
Pierce ran the tip of his tongue over the hardened skin. Felice gasped, her fingernails digging into the tattooed flesh of his shoulders, her eyes still closed, her head still thrown back. Writhing on the carpet below him, Felice continued to make sexy little noises in the back of her throat as he continued to kiss her breast, nibbling carefully on the delicate skin just to watch her thrash under him.
She wiggled out from under him, slippery as a cat, grinning wickedly. Pierce rolled over, watching as the newly freed Felice ran her eyes over every inch of his body, her gaze tracing the outlines of every one of his tattoos. The lust in her eyes filled him with heat, his cock standing at attention. Her eyes slid down his body to it, pink tongue darting across her perfect lips before she crawled back to him.
Pierce nearly came right then as the most beautiful woman in the world pulled his shorts down to expose his cock, and swallowed it whole. Colors burst across his vision as she alternately sucked and swallowed him, her hot, wet tongue swirling over the head of him. He grabbed hard onto the couch behind him as that clever tongue massaged the length of his shaft.
“Fuck,” he gasped. The world had narrowed down to the feel of Felice’s mouth on his dick, and he’d never ever felt anything like it in his life.
She brought him to the very edge before letting up, grinning at him before she crawled closer to lay a sloppy kiss on his parted lips. Felice’s tongue slipped between his lips, that cle
ver tongue that had nearly undone him.
Pierce slid his hands down over her body, finding her hips and massaging them hard with his hands. Felice moaned into his mouth, but he wanted to watch her writhe. He wanted her to cry out his name over and over again in pleasure, and he was going to do whatever he had to see that fantasy come to life.
Fingers exploring, Pierce found a spot she liked to be touched pretty quickly. Her pussy was dripping wet already, slick with the juices he was dying to taste. He would find every place she wanted to be kissed, to be touched, and make her cum again and again.
He wanted Felice to be completely his if only for one, long night.
# # #
