by Chloe Liese
I’d struck out on curves. Just wasn’t in the genetic cards. I had decent tits, a tiny swell of hips, and that about wrapped it up. When I stood, I was tall and willowy. Elodie was tall, too, but had an hourglass shape I’d always envied. And right then her most generous attribute was swaying in my face. I drew a hand back and smacked her on the arse.
It made a nice crack and she spun around. “Nairne!” she squealed.
I shrugged and took a sip of my whiskey—Lagavulin, my birthday treat to myself. Elodie stepped away from the bar, sat on my lap, and wrapped her arms around my neck. Now her tits were in my face. I tried to shove her off, but she just linked her arms tighter.
“What was that for?” she asked over the music. She poked me and winked over her shoulder at whomever she’d been teasing. “Jealous? I was doing this thing called flirting. You should try it.”
I rolled my eyes and set my glass down. “There’s no one worth flirting with.”
She groaned. “You’re such a…un collet monté—”
“A stick in the mud. Yes, I am.”
“You’re impossible! There’s a dozen handsome men in here.”
I shrugged. “Handsome doesn’t mean they’re worth the trouble.”
Elodie was gazing around the pub, frowning.
“Don’t, El. I don’t want you playing matchmaker.”
She ignored me and kept scanning the room. “There.” Her chin tipped toward the bar. “You like the bruting types.”
“Brooding. But for once, your Frenglish serves you well. That man is an absolute brute.”
It was Zed. Of course, it was. Sitting at the bar, drinking a glass of something and laughing with another fellow whose back was to us. I’d never seen him laugh. His teeth were bright against his skin and he looked younger, less formidable, expressing something other than sexual depravity or discontent.
Elodie scowled at me. “You know him? And you haven’t fucked him?”
I pinched her arm. “Would you be quiet? He’s an influential person around here. I don’t want rumors. And no, I haven’t. Talk to him for thirty seconds and you’ll understand why.”
She stood up and made as if to do just that, but I had freakish reflexes, and I caught her arm in time. “That was rhetorical. Don’t you dare go speak to him.”
“Why?”
“Because he hasn’t seen me and I’m enjoying not being under his miserable gaze until I have to be at our next board meeting.”
Elodie gasped. “That’s the rat arse?”
I laughed and took a sip of my whiskey. “Indeed.”
“It all makes so much sense now.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
She was still staring at him and I yanked her hand until she turned my way and bopped me playfully on the nose. “You’re putting up those defenses of yours.”
I smacked her hand away. “Am not. He’s an egotistic bastard who I couldn’t despise more. There’s nothing to defend against.”
She smiled and stared at him again. “Whatever you say, Nairne.”
A tall shadow loomed over us and I startled. It was the grant writer. I tried to coax my racing heart toward calm as I recognized him. “Matthew, hello.”
This was a respectable specimen. Friendly. Objectively good-looking. Polite. And completely underwhelming. I needed my head checked. The sweet fellows always turned my stomach. All the same, he was good company. I invited him to join us, along with a few mates of his. We made small talk. Chatted about the Sox, which I followed and liked. Trivia began, and an hour later, Elodie and I had answered all of them but two. We’d tied for second place. Matthew and his posse were useless.
“You girls really know your shit, don’t you?” One of Matt’s blokes rubbed his neck. “It’s like the nerd brigade over here.”
Elodie rolled her eyes. She had a calculator for a brain, and I read compulsively and lived for science. You didn’t go to MIT unless you practically had STEM inked on your heart.
I was about to answer him, but “Crazy in Love” started playing. Elodie jumped up from the table and circled to me.
“Come on.” She grabbed my hand and tugged. “Let’s dance.”
Matt frowned at her. “What kind of crap thing to say is that? She obviously can’t dance.”
Elodie froze and turned toward him. “Excuse me. Matthew, is it?”
“That’s it, yeah.”
“You’ve known Nairne how long?”
He glanced from me to her. “A couple weeks.”
She laughed and leaned over the table. “We’ve been best friends since we were fifteen. Youth academy for football, which I doubt you know is soccer, you ignorant American twat. Not only are we intelligent, but we’re world class athletes. Nobody tells Nairne what she can or cannot do, and you need to fuck off.”
Matt snapped back. “You don’t have to be like that. I was just looking out for her. It seemed like an inappropriate thing to say to someone who—”
“Nairne, come on.” Elodie tugged my hands again.
I was trying not to laugh as I turned toward Matt. “Don’t take it personally. She’s just protective. But she is right. I’m more capable than you think.”
Matt stared at me in confusion. “I just assumed...”
“Next time, don’t. Instead, ask.”
We said our goodbyes—mine polite, Elodie’s muttered French curses—and left the lads the table. The far end of the bar by the trivia table and the mic set-up was open. Tommy, who owned the place and was like a brother, always kept that corner free for me. We laughed as I dealt with Elodie’s gyrations through Beyoncé, until the mic tapped and drew enough attention that the pub’s volume dropped by half.
Tommy was grinning and I knew I was fucked.
“Hey everybody,” he said. “Most of you know me but if you don’t, I’m the owner of this little Scottish hole in the wall.” A bunch of hollers and claps greeted this announcement. The man was only vaguely Scottish, but his self-deprecating streak spoke of his lineage. Everyone loved Henderson’s and it was wildly profitable. Hardly a little hole in the wall.
“My baby sis,” he continued. “Well, she’s not actually, but for all the assholes eyeing her up, consider her as such.” That earned some laughs as he pointed at me. “She has a birthday today. Can I hear some noise for Nairne?”
Bloody hell. “I’m going to murder him.”
Elodie giggled and picked up her wine. “I love when you say that word. Murrrderrrr.” She took a long sip and shuddered. “Oh, god. This wine really is for shit.”
“Just shit. You just say, it’s shit.”
“Huh.” She shrugged. “English is so random.”
“I won’t argue with that. As for the sub-par wine, you’re a snob.” I took a sip of it out of curiosity and shuddered. “Never mind, that is awful. Order something else.”
Tommy was still blathering about me and my fucking birthday.
“So, we’re gonna play a song from the lass’s homeland and I want everyone to join in. At least a quarter of you are legit Scots, so you better make some noise!”
He wasn’t wrong. The entire Scottish population of Boston congregated at this place on the weekend.
Elodie leaned my way and put down her wine. “Come on, Nairne. May I have this dance?”
I rolled my eyes. “Fine.” I took her arms and leveraged myself up. Standing felt good but I needed a minute as blood rushed from my head. I couldn’t step very well, so we mostly swayed. “Just don’t let go of me or I’ll write you out of my will.”
Elodie held me tightly against her and pecked my cheek. “Ma fille, we both know that to me, that’s not much enticement. My love can’t be bought!”
I had a modest sum of life insurance and savings from three deceased relatives, plus the product of steady work studies tucked away in a bank. I’d also begun to dabble in investments, particularly a tech company that innovated like no business I’d ever seen. It was starting to do quite well. Even with tha
t, Elodie was sole inheritor of a vast empire of wealth management. My threat was immaterial to her.
“Oh, I love this song. It always makes me cry!” She threw back her head and sang along about a lass joining her love in the heather. It was a sweet tune, and it reminded me of home, and suddenly I was melancholy. Tommy had meant well, Elodie had blown a small fortune to fly in and surprise me, even Matt and his mates were just being friendly blokes, but none of it felt right. I was anchorless in a sea of unclear meaning. Another trip around the sun. Another year in which my legs were disobedient obstacles since my injury.
Elodie squeezed my waist. “What’s the matter?”
My head shook and, thanks to the inverse relationship between my intense emotions and my ability to voice them, all I managed was, “Nothing.”
Elodie opened her mouth, but a man’s voice spoke before she could say anything else.
“May I?”
That voice. The one that caused my headaches and the ache between my thighs.
Zed.
Seven
Zed
Her friend with the Shirley Temple curls glanced between us. “Oui.”
“No,” Nairne answered at the same time.
The friend waved it off. “I have to use le chiotte anyway. I’ll be back in three minutes.”
That last part sounded like a warning. I nodded as Nairne and I had a stare-off. When Shirley Temple began to let go, Nairne clutched my arms like she had no choice. Air sucked in my lungs. Her grip was a vise, and she glared at me. It was unnaturally arousing. Her fire, the antipathy she held for me. Something was definitely wrong with me. Crisscrossed wires. This combative shit didn’t turn my crank. Historically.
Nairne sighed. “She’s dead to me.”
I chuckled and pulled her a little closer. A hot current surged over my skin as our bodies touched. Nairne was tall and we fit too well. Her chest pressed against mine and my cock lined right up with her center. I managed to keep myself together. “I can go if you really want me to. Believe it or not, I can be a gentleman when occasion calls.”
She laughed dryly and gripped my arm tighter as I pivoted us. “Zed.”
My body heated when she said my name. That voice was… Soft. Smoky. Impossibly sexy.
“I don’t dance well. Keep it simple.”
I frowned at her. “You dance fine. Just let me lead.”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s not that, you numpty.”
“Numpty?” My eyebrows lifted. “That’s a new one.”
She just frowned at me and sent my body temperature climbing. Her breasts brushed against my pecs as we rotated, and she smelled like a garden by the sea again. My dick practically knocked on her entrance and there was no way I could hold her close and keep her unaware of her effect on me.
Her breath hitched as she felt it. She cleared her throat. “I’m surprised you think I can dance at all.”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
She stilled and her gaze went sharp as she scrutinized me. “You wouldn’t be the first one tonight.” Her head flicked toward the table where Matt and his friends sat. They looked like ass-hats. That’s where I’d first noticed her, through a sea of people. A fiery head of hair, laughing in profile during trivia. Matt had leaned his head her way and I’d seen red.
“He said you can’t dance?”
Her head tipped to the side. “I mean, it’s a fair assumption to make. Doesn’t mean it’s polite. I’m just surprised you aren’t in his naysaying camp.”
I stared at her. “That’s what you think of me? That I’d insult you like that?”
Her friend was wending her way through the crowd. I saw her out of the corner of my eye. That meant I didn’t have much time left. I either had to beg for more of Nairne’s attention—which absolutely was not in my nature—or I had to give her up. That one didn’t come easily, either.
“Zed, are you joking with me?”
“No,” I snapped. “Why the hell would I joke about it? Any guy who says a woman can’t dance is an asshole. I’m a bit of a bastard, I know, but I’m not a jerk, Nairne. You’re beautiful and fit. You’re a woman. I’ve no doubt you have all the necessary moves.”
Her gaze dropped to the ground as she bit her lip, and the deference of the gesture went straight to my already throbbing cock. The idea of watching this queen sink to her knees…I’d grab that maddening auburn mane and yank it until her gaze met mine.
Take out my cock. Flatten your tongue and open your throat. You’ll breathe when I say you can.
Shirley Temple joined us. “You tired? Ready to go?”
Nairne nodded and looked at me peculiarly. Her friend left and came back with something that made my gears grind to a halt. A black wheelchair.
What? How had I never noticed?
But it wasn’t one of those hospital clunkers. It was low and compact. Nairne sat like it was a relief and lifted her legs to settle on a foot bar.
I stared at her with a mixture of shock and rage. There was nothing rational about my reaction, but I was livid with her. That she’d kept this from me. Somehow, unlike Matt and his friends, and probably everyone else on the board, everyone else in her life, I’d had no fucking clue about this.
“MacGregor,” I said. She glanced up at me as my hand flicked toward the door. “Outside.”
Nairne crossed her arms. “Forgetting a word?”
I ground my teeth. “Please. Outside, please.”
She rolled her eyes and pushed herself past me. “Tell Tommy thank you, Elodie. And close my tab for me, will you?”
Shirley Temple nodded and frowned between us. Nairne yanked open the door and maneuvered past it onto the sidewalk, then spun herself around to face me. Looking down at her while speaking wasn’t what I wanted. I dropped into a chair at one of the café tables outside and scraped it along the sidewalk until my legs caged hers in.
“You kept this from me.”
She laughed. “Seriously, Zed? You haven’t noticed? I don’t believe that. And even if you somehow didn’t, why would I talk to you about it?”
“Tell me.”
Nairne frowned. “It’s none of your business.”
I growled and raked a hand through my hair. “I’ll rephrase. Are you all right?”
Her face softened marginally. “I’m fine. You don’t need to worry about me.”
Easy for her to say. I was getting pretty good at it. She’d been taking up real estate in my head, swallowing up my thoughts like developers buying up rows of Boston’s historic homes and tearing them down. Nairne’s impact felt equally devastating.
How had I missed this? I wracked my brain. Both meetings she’d been sitting at the table. I hadn’t seen a thing. Granted, I’d given her a wide berth because she was too attractive for my sanity. The table had hidden the wheels, then. And then at the Esplanade, that explained the unusual bike.
I leaned forward. “I’ve never seen it before. Why didn’t you say anything?”
“We barely talk unless you’re questioning my abilities and implying I’m unfit for your organization.”
I reeled. “I took your advice, agreed to act on it. What do you need, a goddamn trophy?”
She glared at me. “I have plenty of those on my own, thanks. I don’t need a fucking thing from you.”
Fuck that. Yes, she did. I grabbed the back of her neck and crashed our mouths together. Her fingers raked through my hair as she tugged, then moaned against my mouth. I nibbled her lips, biting and tasting them roughly as I found that pile of auburn and fisted it. Her moans hit my bones like a tuning fork and kept reverberating. Nairne was shockingly pliable. Her mouth opened to let me kiss her how I wanted. And I did just that. For the first time in my life, whiskey tasted incredible. On Nairne’s tongue it was sweet and warm.
The door flew open and slammed shut. She pulled back and stared at me in wide-eyed horror. Then her hand flew up for what I knew was an incoming slap. My grip wrapped around her wrist before her palm could connect with my face
.
“You don’t want to do that.”
“Believe me,” she seethed, “I do.”
I tugged her toward me, until our noses nearly touched, and locked eyes with her. “Then what were those last ten seconds?”
Her free hand moved to my chest to brace herself and I felt her claws sinking through my shirt. I wanted them to rake down my skin until they gripped my cock.
“A lapse in judgment. Errant hormones. You smell nice, and I’m tanked-up.”
“Thanks, it’s custom. And drunk? No, you’re not. Stop lying.”
“Let go of me.”
I did. I wanted nothing more than to possess the woman’s body, but I never took what wasn’t given freely.
She pushed back and stared at me. “You’re arrogant and conceited. You’ve downplayed my credentials and questioned my intellect, and now you kiss me like that. What the hell’s wrong with you?’
I stood. Damn good question she had. What the hell was wrong with me? She didn’t listen to me or make my life any easier. She was argumentative and defiant. I’d kissed her because that sharp tongue needed to be taught how to do something other than smart-mouth me. But I knew that answer would probably land me a punch to the nuts.
“I don’t question your intellect, Ms. MacGregor. I never have. I have…expectations is all. I wanted to ensure you were prepared to meet them, and you’ve more than proven yourself. I hold you in incredibly high regard.”
She folded her arms. “You have an odd way of showing it.”
I ran my fingers through my hair. “I apologize. It won’t happen again.”
It couldn’t. We were all kinds of wrong for each other. Oil and water. Dominating, cynical brute and a first-rate ball-busting spitfire.
She was flushed and her lips looked stung from my kisses. Hair roughed up from my fist. My body was wound tight with unmet need, and staring at her in this state wasn’t helping. I wanted to bend her over the table and fuck her until she screamed herself hoarse with pleasure.
Shirley Temple bounced out of the pub and found us. Elodie, was that her name? Nairne stared at me hard as I walked backward to the door. Elodie grabbed my shoulder as we passed each other.
