by A. M. Wilson
“More like irritating.” He roughly grabs his fork from the rolled up napkin and dives in. “Shit, this is delicious. Try it.” He scoops up some chicken off his plate and holds his fork out towards my mouth.
“You do know I ordered the same thing, right?” I ask, eyeing his fork suspiciously.
He wiggles his eyebrows at me and grins. “Yeah, but this is more fun. Try it. You know you want to.”
Oh, I do want to. I lean over at his insistence and take the fork into my mouth, closing my lips around the food in an unhurried exaggeration. I slowly pull back, seductively swiping at my lips with my tongue while looking him directly in the eye. He remains still, his Adam’s apple working on a slow swallow of his own while watching me, continuing to hold the fork out in midair. I can see his arm trembling slightly. It’s a heady feeling knowing I could affect him as much as he affects me. He lets out a small cough and finally lowers his fork to shovel a bite into his mouth.
“Delicious,” I say with a wink, and he laughs.
“I see what you did there, clever girl.”
The heaviness of the earlier topic is long forgotten.
We continue to devour our meal with lighthearted conversation. It’s flirty, playful, and refreshing. His thigh is touching mine underneath the table, his arm stays wrapped around my shoulders as he eats.
“More wine?” Elias asks, once we’ve both finished eating.
“Yes, please.”
He picks up my glass and fills it from the bottle on the table. “Did you enjoy your meal?”
“It was delicious. Did you?”
He places my wine in front of me before answering. “Oh yes. I enjoyed it even more after sharing the same fork. “
I hum in response, taking a sip of my wine. As I place it before me, I fiddle with the stem of my glace while we sit in silence.
“So I’m curious about something,” I begin, and Elias turns his body to face me.
“What’s that?”
“What is your business at Brooks and Boulder? I saw you talking with Michelle the day of my interview. Unless of course it’s private, then you don’t have to tell me.” Suddenly realizing he may be a client, I’m a little nauseous considering we deal mostly in criminal defense.
To my surprise, Elias looks somewhat embarrassed. Crap, he probably is a client. “You don’t have to tell me,” I rush to amend.
“Ah, no it’s okay. Honestly?” Elias clears his throat and runs his hand through his disheveled hair.
“I’m the son of Preston Brooks.” My stomach drops. This may be worse than him being a client. “I stopped by to see my dad and ran into some old friends.”
“You’re Mr. Brooks’ son? I’m on a date with the partner’s son. Holy shit, I’m a hussy.”
“Marlena,” he chastises sternly. “Don’t. There is nothing wrong with going on a date with me. I have no influence over your position in the office.”
“Other people might not know that.”
“They do. You’re a direct employee of Michelle. She’s the one who hired you.”
“But won’t the others talk?”
“Who’ll care? The only one who has a big mouth is Katie, the receptionist, and that’s because she’s a cold hearted bitch who revels in gossip.”
“That doesn’t really surprise me. I’ve only spoken a handful of words to her, but by the looks she’s given me in all of two days, I don’t think she likes me very much.”
“Just be careful. I know she can act nice when she wants to be or when she needs something.”
“You really think no one, other than her, will have something to say about this?”
“I really don’t,” Elias sighs. “And who cares if they did? I’m an adult, you’re an adult, and technically we met before you worked there. Please, don’t make this into a bigger deal than it needs to be.”
“I guess you’re right.” I’m not entirely comfortable with the revelation, but what can I do about it? I’m delighted to be out with Elias. He’s gorgeous and sweet and funny—entirely out of my league. If I’m honest with myself, this probably won’t last so I might as well enjoy it until then.
Before I can press him further, the waitress returns with our bill, which Elias promptly pays sending her away with cash instead of a credit card so we don’t have to wait.
“Come to my place. I can pull out the guitar, play you some songs.” His azure eyes are bright, excited. His body emits confidence and power as he holds out his hand to help me from the booth. He doesn’t want this night to end any more than I do.
“Sure, it’s still early enough. I do have to work tomorrow though.” There’s a deep, almost painful need to clarify that I won’t be spending the night. He hasn’t even broached the subject, but I don’t know how these things usually go. I haven’t been on a date in over three years.
“Don’t worry. I won’t keep you all night,” he teases, linking his fingers through mine once again and towing me from the restaurant. He leads me to his truck, and before opening my door, he backs me up against it, holding me still. His muscular body to my soft body, his hands drifting to settle on my waist.
I lift my gaze his eyes, trying to understand what he’s thinking.
“I’m not ready for this night to be over. I want to know more about who you are, what makes you tick. I want to do what I can to unleash your beauty on the world without all that pain.” He dips his head to brush his lips gently against mine, back and forth. “I’m drawn to you. I can’t get the image of you staring at me in the lobby out of my head, all sexy and innocent looking. You feel it too, this connection we have. You’re drawn to me too.”
“I’m not good at this Elias. And I’m afraid of how drawn I am to you. At the club, I couldn’t get enough of you. It’s why I pulled away and ran before things went too far. I want to show you who I am, and I want to know who you are. But if I’m going to do this, it has to be slow. And open. I can’t take surprises, I don’t do well with jealousy, and I need to have control.” I blow out a breath.
“That’s all I’m asking for, Marlee. Try. With me.”
I search his gaze, trying to find any hint he isn’t serious about this or that he will let me down. As much as it scares me, I know I need this. Carly has been trying to get me out on a date for weeks to no avail but something in his eyes holds me captivated, and I know this is my chance to heal and move on.
“Okay,” is all I can get out before his lips capture mine once more.
The kiss is sweet, soft, less demanding and heated than the earlier kisses; it is a promise. As if he is sealing my wounds, pouring his hope and understanding into me, urging me to trust him, have faith in him. I kiss him back with equal fervor, my lips whispering what I can’t say with words.
Don’t hurt me; help me; free me; I’m trusting you.
The kiss slows, and he presses his forehead against mine before opening my door and helping me into the truck.
A sliver of a moon hangs in the dark night sky as we pull up outside a newly built apartment complex. The front is mostly a wall of windows, dotted with equally spaced walk out balconies. Elias parks across the street from the entrance and kills the engine.
“I would park in the garage, but I’ll be bringing you home later so this is easier.”
I nod; secretly glad we won’t be venturing into the parking garage tonight. Even though he is with me, the fear still lingers. “Are you ready to go inside?”
“Yeah, let’s go,” I say, opening my door and stepping out into the night. The large modernized building is entrancing. At least ten times better than my crappy apartment. “You seriously live here?” I wince at how judgmental the question sounded.
Elias just shrugs. “Work is good. I help a buddy of mine with odd jobs. The extra cash I earn playing at the bar helps take care of everyday expenses.”
I close the door and round the truck to his side. Pressing into him, I capture his unique scent, relishing in the moment. I wouldn’t have guessed after my intervi
ew on Friday that I would be here, about to head into this unbelievable man’s apartment. I’m struck by how uncharacteristically calm I am.
He places his hand on the small of my back, leans down, and presses a chaste kiss on my mouth before moving his lips up to my ear. “I can’t stop kissing these amazing lips of yours.” As if to give truth to his statement, he swoops down and kisses me again.
My heart gives a hard jolt in my chest.
He pulls back and leads me across the street with his hand clasped tightly to mine. We climb the steps to the main entrance, and I reach down to grab my phone to text Carly where I am, but my purse isn’t with me.
“Oh crap, I forgot my purse. I don’t really need it, but I’m not comfortable leaving it on the seat like that. Unlock the door, will you?” I start down the stairs, watching as his headlights blink, showing he hit the unlock button on the key fob. I glance both ways and start across the street.
I use the moment away from Elias to center myself and reign in my emotions. I’m not so sure that if he asked me to have sex tonight I would say no. Is that wrong? I’m almost twenty-two years old, and I’ve never had a one-night stand. I wonder what it would be like; if he’d still want to try dating me if I put out on the first date. But he’s so incredible, how can I say no without—
“MARLEE!”
Headlights flash on seconds before I’m slammed into from behind and fall crashing down into the rough pavement. My head collides with a crack. I hear the sound of tires screeching and open my eyes long enough to see a dark colored Impala whipping around the corner before I let my heavy lids slide closed again. My breathing is shallow, a sharp pain shooting through my side. I think my rib is broken.
“Fuck,” Elias grunts beside me.
“Are you okay?” I slowly sit myself up while my ribs scream in protest. I wrap my right arm around my left side, trying hold the rib I’m sure is broken in place. Anything to ease the pain.
“I’m fine. Are you okay?” He scrambles to a crouch in front of me. He looks me over from head to toe, running his hands lightly over my body to feel for injuries. I take a breath and wince.
“Yeah. What just happened? I didn’t see that car before I crossed the street.”
“Don’t move. You’re in pain.” He stands up then bends over, lifting me easily into his strong arms, and takes me back towards the truck. He places me delicately on the hood. Taking my arms in his hands, Elias brushes away the gravel to look at my wounds. “That car came out of nowhere. I was almost too late. Christ, I don’t think I’ve run that fast in my entire life.” He lifts his hand up to stroke my cheek. “You’re bleeding, Marlee.”
He steps back, quickly undoing the buttons on his shirt. Removing the dress shirt, he peels the white undershirt over his head before putting the gray button up back on. The fabric remains open while he tends to my wounds, exposing the hard valleys and peaks of his toned chest and abs, unintentionally giving me something more pleasant to focus on.
“Why do you call me Marlee?” I whisper, partly because it’s hard to speak through the pain, partly because his half-naked body is captivating. Elias balls up his white tee and holds it to my bleeding face, dabbing lightly.
“I wanted something only I called you by. Do you not like it?” His eyes examine mine, asking for permission, searching for lies.
“I love it, actually. Much better than the name Travis used to call me,” I mutter. I lift my arms, circling his neck.
Elias doesn’t respond to my comment. Instead, he sets down the teeshirt beside me on the hood. Trailing his hands up my arms to where my hands grip his neck, he unclasps my hands, and brings them down in between us. He keeps my hands firmly grasped in his, rubbing soothing circles along the backs of my hands.
“As much as I’d like to lay you back and have my way with you right here, you should see a doctor. You might have a broken rib by the way you’re breathing and wincing.”
Holy shit.
Thank God, it’s cold out. My body temp just shot up like ten degrees. I might not have done this before, but his confident take-charge attitude throws all my reservations out the freaking window. Unfortunately for both of us, he’s right about the pain.
“I think you’re right. I’m sorry. I feel like I ruined the rest of our night.” I sigh in frustration. The fact he’s thinking about anything sexual right now put the pain of my rib on the back burner. Thinking of our heated kisses, and that he’s practically shirtless, has me thinking dirty thoughts about him too.
“You didn’t ruin anything. Let’s go get you fixed up, and we can reschedule our date for you to come over tomorrow.” He kisses my forehead, and I reluctantly allow him to help me into the truck.
CHAPTER FOUR
Travis
March 19, 2015
It was worse than I could have imagined.
I stood before the infamous Brooks and Boulder LLP, determined to do my mother’s bidding. I hadn’t visited her in months, but yesterday I got the urge to check in on her. Broken mind, lost spirit, her body has been following the rest of her. For over an hour, I listened to her ramble, mostly incoherently. Yet at times, if I listened deeply enough, I could understand the utterances of pain spilling from her mouth. After all this time, she still believed she wronged me. She blamed herself for being weak and for losing me. The longer I sat, the more she gutted me.
The second I stepped out of that rehab center, I got in my car and didn’t stop until I was…here.
If I had a torch and gasoline, I’d burn this place and everyone inside to the ground. And although that would alleviate some of my anger, it wouldn’t right what that piece of shit did to my family. He needs to suffer; he isn’t worthy of a quick death. His penance needs to be long and drawn out. I need him to beg for the mercy only I am capable of giving.
Instead, I swallowed my complete loathing and pressed my way inside the towering building.
Just the smell of the air inside nauseated me.
I stood in front of the reception desk, clutched the brown messenger bag, which held my leverage against Preston, and listened to the cute blonde chattering on with whoever was on the other end of the call. She was sexy and skinny, wearing a low cut top that showed more cleavage than was probably professionally acceptable. I’d guess she would be an easy fuck.
Since I wasn’t in a hurry, I smiled at her politely and let my eyes roam the lobby. It was mostly empty save for a man and a woman sitting near the front windows. They both looked anxious. The man was younger, probably her son, and was tapping his knee at a frantic pace. The woman was trying to console him, but each word she spoke seemed to send him further into a frenzy.
A young woman drew my attention as she rushed toward the front door, and I froze, suddenly caught between a memory and a nightmare. The long chestnut brown hair was so strikingly familiar I could almost smell the shampoo I knew would have washed it. I knew how it felt between my fingers, how it felt dangling above my chest. I knew what it was like to bury my face in it.
But it couldn’t be her.
After searching for her high and low and a hundred and fifty miles away from where I last saw her, it’d be almost impossible to run into her here.
The very place that housed the devil himself.
I was stunned into watching her retreat, the familiar curve of her back, the alluring sway of her hips. My fist clenched in red hot fury when she turned through the revolving door and the sunlight lit her profile, confirming my unwelcome suspicion.
Of all the places I would have expected her to be, this was the last of them.
Unable to extinguish my curiosity, I wandered toward the expanse of windows and sought her out. She wasn’t hard to miss in the half-filled parking lot.
My heart beat painfully in my chest as I turned back to check if the receptionist was done on the phone. She was still very much into her call, but my attention drifted as something else caught my eye. Or I should say someone. The tall, blonde, cocky male hovering near the elevators
and staring after Lena turned my blood to ice.
Caught between keeping on my mission or running down that walkway to reclaim what was rightfully mine, I forced myself to close my eyes and take a deep breath.
When I opened them, she was gone.
With renewed anguish in my veins, I walked back over towards that receptionist. She must have seen the fury in my eyes because she cut the rest of her conversation short.
“What time are we meeting again?” She asked into the phone, while eyeing me with curiosity and maybe a hint of fear. The latter stoked my ego.
“Nine o’clock at Gypsies? K, I’ll see you tomorrow. Bye.” She hung up the phone and leaned towards me. I don’t think I imagined the suggestive behavior.
“Can I help you?”
“I’m here to see Preston Brooks,” I replied sharply.
“Do you have an appointment?” She asked, while consulting her computer. Her eyebrows furrowed.
“No. I just need to speak with him quickly.”
She leaned forward slightly, her shirt drooping a little bit lower until I could see a hint of pink lace. “I’m sorry Mr…?”
“Dawson.”
“Mr. Dawson. I’m sorry, but without an appointment, you can’t see him. Are you a client of his?”
“No.”
“Ah, okay. Mr. Brooks isn’t taking on any new clients at the moment.” I watched as her eyes dropped to my bag. “But if you have any files or documentation with you I can set up a file and have one of the other attorneys review it.”
“No. I’m not looking for representation. I just,” I paused, wondering if I was really about to do this. If I was really about to attempt blackmail and without speaking to Preston myself. She eyed me curiously while I pondered my dilemma.
I reached into my bag and thrust a manila envelope onto the desk. “Deliver this to him, please, and only him. He’ll understand when he reads it.”
“Um, okay,” she smiled at me, although she looked unsure of herself. I smiled back to alleviate some of the distrust in her stare. Her eyes softened like a naïve little doe. I had to suppress the urge to reach out and pat her head.
