Love Hate Relationship (a Colors novel)

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Love Hate Relationship (a Colors novel) Page 14

by Jessica Prince


  “Rowan,” she purred in an annoying nasally voice. From the strange look of her face, I could only assume the Botox had botched her attempt at a seductive expression. To Rowan’s credit, he at least appeared to be caught off guard, but that was more than likely because he’d forgotten the plastic woman’s name two minutes before she’d walked out his door—or he walked out of hers. None of that lessened the sharp sting I felt in the pit of my stomach as I watched the two of them.

  “Uh… hi…” Yep, he totally forgot her name. His wide, icy eyes shot to me as if wanting me to step in and save him. Not a fucking chance in hell. He’d made his bed, had sex with the five-foot-nine Barbie Doll in it, he could very well lie in it.

  “You don’t remember me?” she asked with what I was assuming was a pout. Hard to tell with all the collagen pumped into her lips. It took an act of God to prevent me from reaching for my phone and snapping a quick picture. I wanted to blast that baby all over Instagram as a warning to always seek a board-certified plastic surgeon.

  Did she get that shit done in Tijuana or something?

  When all he did was stand there like a dumbass mute, she continued. “Brandi… with an i?” She lowered her voice conspiratorially. “The bathtub at the Waldorf?” Oh, gag! “You called me sweetheart?” You and every other available vagina this side of the Hudson.

  “Oh, of course!” Rowan lied through his teeth. “Brandi. Yes, I remember.”

  She attempted a grin that couldn’t bust through the toxins she’d pumped into her skin. “I knew you would!” I wanted to gouge my eyes out. Or better yet, stick a fork in one of the airbags she called a boob and watch her fly away. “Are you here alone? We could leave a little early if you wanted, go back to my place…” She trailed a fingernail down the lapel of his jacket, lower and lower until Rowan grabbed her wrist, stopping her just inches from being indecent.

  I was pissed.

  Or more aptly, I was jealous. And that itself was enough to piss me off even more. I didn’t get jealous. Ever. I’d never been jealous in my life. Yet there I sat, fuming over the biggest man-whore on the eastern seaboard. Good Lord, how had things spun so out of control?

  “Um, no. I’m actually—” he began to answer.

  Clearing my throat loudly, I pasted on a saccharine-sweet smile as they turned to look at me. Boobzilla scanned me up and down, clearly finding me lacking. Rowan just looked downright uncomfortable, which was really saying something, considering nothing seemed to ruffle his feathers. Seeing his immense discomfort suddenly shifted something inside of me, tapering off the decent sized mad I’d been working on. He didn’t want her pawing all over him. He’d even begun to tell her he was with someone before I interrupted. While I would have loved to throw a Texas sized hissy fit, he honestly hadn’t done anything wrong. At least at that moment. For that reason, I decided to throw him a bone.

  I extended my hand in the human blowup doll’s direction. “Hi, I’m Navie.” When her expression remained impassive, I continued. “Rowan’s date.”

  She let out a less than feminine snort. “You must be joking.”

  “She’s not, actually,” Rowan answered, detaching himself from the she-bitch and moving to my side, snaking his hand around my waist. My heart did a little flip at his possessive gesture. My body liked that way more than it should have. “It was nice seeing you again. Enjoy your evening.”

  Just like that, he turned his back on her, stepping in front of me and effectively cutting her off. But I wasn’t done.

  Taking a page out of Rowan’s playbook, I looked over his shoulder, smiling big as I said, “Lovely meeting you, Barbara.”

  “It’s Brandi,” she glowered.

  “Whatever.”

  When I looked back at Rowan, his eyes danced with amusement and I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing. “Something tells me I’m going to be very happy I brought you with me tonight.”

  I pursed my lips together and blew out a long puff of air, creating a less than ladylike sound. “Pfft, of course you are. I’m delightful.”

  “Come on then.” He chuckled, pulling me from the barstool. “Let’s go have some fun.”

  “As long as I don’t end up behind bars again, I’m down. If you’re in there with me, who’d bail me out?”

  He hadn’t been lying.

  Holy hell, I was bored out of my ever loving mind. Sure, we’d had fun bidding people up on some ridiculous auction prizes, but that had been the highlight of the evening. There was schmoozing. Oh, dear Lord, was there schmoozing. My face ached from the fake smile I had to keep plastered in place as people came up to Rowan, droning on and on about the most trivial bullshit.

  During dinner, it had taken Rowan pinching me on my knee several times just to keep me from falling asleep. I was pretty sure I was going to have a bruise tomorrow. And I might have dug my knuckles into the meaty part of his thigh in retaliation. Or just to liven up the mood. Whatever.

  I was never doing a black tie event again. Never!

  “So, this is what Hell’s like?” I leaned over and whispered to Rowan just as dinner was wrapping up.

  “I told you so,” he chided.

  Giving him a glare, I responded, “You know, a gentleman doesn’t say I told you so.”

  He looked at me with an oh, you dear, sweet, simple girl expression. “I think you know me better than that.”

  “Damn it, you’re right,” I conceded. “Fine. If I’m going to be stuck in Hell, might as well take advantage of the open bar. I’ll be right back.” Without a backwards glance, I took off in the direction of my salvation. I needed alcohol like I’d never needed it before.

  Making my way through the crowd that had started to form, I stepped up to the bar and rested against it, more tired than I had felt in a long time. Who knew acting fake could be so exhausting. I placed my order and waited with my back to the room.

  “You look like you’re enjoying this event about as much as I am,” a familiar voice spoke from behind me.

  I rolled my eyes as I began to turn. “Very funny, Row—,” I trailed off as I stared in shock at the man before me. It was Rowan, but it wasn’t. Same eyes, same build, same stature… hell, same damn face! But where Rowan’s face was marred only by the scruff on his jawline, the man in front of me had an inch-long, crescent-shaped scar on the side of his left eye.

  “Holy shit,” I said on a whoosh of breath as my lungs deflated in shock.

  One corner of his lips tipped up in a crooked smile so like Rowan’s, yet visibly different at the same time. “Well, hello to you, too. Can I get you a drink?”

  “I—uh—you’re—holy shit!”

  “I’ll take that as a yes.” He chuckled. Had my brain not been fried completely, I would have informed him I already had a drink. But at that point, I was incapable of rational thought. Rowan had a doppelganger! Or, at the very least, a twin. He stepped into the free space right next to me at the bar and ordered two glasses of champagne, which was so not something I’d ever drink, unless forced due to some sort of celebration.

  “For you, beautiful.” He offered a smile full of perfectly straight, white teeth as he clinked his glass against mine. “To luck,” he toasted. “Seeing you across the room made this event much more tolerable.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut and rubbed at the spot between my brows, trying to ward off the headache I felt coming on. “I’m sorry. I’m so confused right now.”

  My eyes widened in surprise when I felt his fingers on mine, pulling my hand away so he could see my face. However, instead of letting go, he wrapped his grip around my hand more firmly, rubbing small circles over my pulse point with his thumb. “A woman as gorgeous as you should never frown. What has you so confused, beautiful?”

  I felt him before I saw him. “Get your fucking hands off her before I break every bone in your goddamned body.”

  My body went rigid. The air around us grew arctic as my gaze bounced back and forth between the two men who looked so much alike. I’d seen Rowan mad
, plenty of times. But the pure, unadulterated hatred that was radiating off him had my heart thundering in my chest.

  “Rowan,” the man spoke, sounding almost surprised. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

  “I’m not going to fucking tell you again,” Rowan growled in response, the muscle in his jaw ticking double-time. “Get your goddamned hands off her, Richard.”

  He released my hand and held both of his up in surrender. “Row, I had no clue—” but he didn’t get any further.

  Rowan let out a laugh so callous it sent chills up my spine. “Like it would matter, brother. We already know you’ve got a hard-on for my sloppy seconds.” Hold the hell up. I was about to interrupt, angered by his implication, when he cut me off. “You get tired of the last one already, Rich? Was that it? You got done with Bree and shoved her to the side for a newer model?”

  “Bree?” I nearly shouted. “Like the crazy stalker email chick? That Bree?” Neither of them acknowledged that I’d even spoken.

  “Rowan,” I warned. Not only were we garnering some very unwanted attention, but I really didn’t like how he was demeaning me in the process of attacking his brother. Unfortunately, he was too far gone. And who in the ever loving hell was Bree?!

  Right in Richard’s face, he hissed, “You stay the fuck away from Navie, you hear me? She’s mine.” What the holy hell? “You try the same bullshit on her that you did with Bree and they’ll never find your fucking body. You understand me?”

  “Rowan, please,” Richard spoke. “Can we please just talk about this? Privately? There’s a lot that needs to be said. I didn’t know—”

  “There’s a reason I haven’t talked to you in years, you sorry piece of shit. If you think we’re going to start now, you’ve lost your mind.”

  “Rowan, please,” I whispered urgently, tugging on his arm in an attempt to get him to back off. As his assistant, I saw getting into a brawl at a charity event ending badly from a publicity standpoint—a hit Rowan couldn’t afford to take. But as someone who actually cared for him, I simply didn’t want to see him get hurt.

  “How long are you planning on holding a grudge without knowing the full story, brother?” Richard asked, and I had to stifle my groan.

  “Don’t poke the bear,” I hissed quietly. “For the love of God, man, don’t poke the fucking bear.”

  Rowan stepped up to his brother, way too close for comfort. “What’d you just say to me?”

  “Rowan, stop!” I nearly shouted, my tone firm, leaving no room for argument. That seemed to pull him out of his red-clouded daze.

  “We’re leaving,” he informed me, grabbing me by the hand Richard had been holding, which had started the whole mess. He didn’t give me a chance to respond as he pulled me, none too gracefully, from the ballroom at a clip so fast I had to run to keep up. I barely had enough time to snatch my clutch from the table as we passed.

  “Rowan, slow down. My legs are shorter than yours!”

  “I can’t fucking believe that motherfucker!” he bellowed once we made it outside to the waiting limo.

  “Stop!” I shouted, jerking my hand from his painfully rough grip. He came to a halt as soon as his hold on me detached. Standing in front of the Plaza, my chest rising and falling with each ragged pant, I propped my hands on my hips and scowled. “What the hell was that?!”

  “Navie, don’t start. I’m not in the mood for your—”

  Oh, no, I’d had just about all the insults I could handle for one night. “I don’t give a shit what you’re in the mood for, Rowan! I might not have a clue what just happened back there, but what I do know is that in your fit of rage, you managed to insult me in the process of verbally attacking your brother!” His shoulders slumped as my words seemed to sink in. “I didn’t do a damn thing to deserve you disrespecting me just because you were in the mood to prove who has the bigger dick. You need to get your shit together! I am not your personal punching bag!” I ended on a yell, my own anger having reached a boiling point.

  Rowan stomped to me, eating up every inch of space between his body and mine. His eyes flashed maniacally with something I couldn’t put my finger on. I had to admit, for the first time since getting to know him, I wasn’t sure how to react. “Do you want him?” he clipped.

  “What? Have you lost your damn mind?!”

  He grabbed my forearms harshly, jerking me flush against his body. It was bizarre how much that action both scared and excited me. I’d long since given up trying to understand my body’s reaction to this infuriating man. It was never as it should have been.

  “Answer the goddamned question, Navie! Do you want him?”

  I tried to pull free, but it was pointless. “Jesus, Rowan, of course not! I didn’t say more than a handful of words to the man. I was too shocked at discovering there were two of you! I didn’t even know you had a brother until ten minutes ago. How could you even think I’d want him?”

  At my words, the floodgates opened. And I had no choice but to go with the flow or risk drowning.

  Something inside of me snapped and I couldn’t have stopped myself if I wanted to. Slamming my lips against hers in a bruising, punishing kiss, I took her mouth with more force than I had that night at the club. My need to feel her, have her, mark her went from borderline obsessive to positively primal. Using my tongue, I forced my way between those lush lips, swallowing down her needy whimper as her taste exploded in my mouth, fueling me on.

  I had to have her.

  Right then.

  There was no more waiting. If she denied me at that moment, I had no idea what I’d do—probably combust. Pulling back from her mouth, I trailed wet, openmouthed kisses down her neck to her collarbone. “Rowan.” She exhaled my name in that breathy, exotic way that ramped me up even further. “Rowan, we’re in public.” She tried to push at my chest, but it was weak, and the second I latched onto her smooth, creamy skin, sinking my teeth into that flesh, her body softened even more.

  “Get in the limo,” I growled my demand, pulling away to look into those dark blue eyes. The moment I saw them glazed over with lust, I knew I’d won. On shaky limbs, she stepped to the car. I pulled the door open for her and quickly followed her in, yanking her into my lap the instant my ass hit the seat so she straddled my thighs. I wasn’t letting her get away this time. There would be no distance between us. The divider between us and the driver was already up, so there was nothing stopping me. No more obstacles. No more waiting.

  “Oh, God.” Her head tipped back as I sucked on her neck again, trailing my hands up her tiny waist. My thumbs brushed across the rigid peaks of her nipples over her dress and I was overcome with the desire to taste them. Pulling the top of her dress down as low as I could, I latched onto a dusky-pink tip and took a long, slow pull. Navie ground her hips further into mine, rubbing herself against my aching cock. Christ, I could feel her heat though the layers of clothing between us. I couldn’t stand the barrier.

  “Oh, shit,” she whimpered as she circled her hips, chasing after the release she was just as desperate for as I was.

  “You want me?” I asked, trailing one hand down between us, pushing her panties aside so I could get to what I wanted. “Shit, Navie. You’re soaked.”

  “Don’t stop,” she panted as I circled her clit with my thumb before shoving two fingers deep inside her.

  “Not stopping,” I returned. I had to breathe deep to try and stave off coming in my pants. The feel of her grinding on my dick and the way she clamped around my fingers was almost too much to bear. “No fucking way I’m stopping. Not until I’ve fucked you.”

  Her head came up, a cascade of golden hair swishing across her shoulders as her hazy eyes landed on me. “Do it.”

  “Tell me you want me,” I groaned, wrapping my free hand in all that gorgeous hair so I could guide her mouth back to mine. I couldn’t explain it, couldn’t understand it, but after seeing her with Richard, I needed to hear straight from her mouth that it was me she wanted, no one else. I hadn’
t needed that kind of validation in years. If I hadn’t been so far gone, it would have scared the shit out of me.

  “I want you,” she whispered against my lips before sliding her tongue against mine.

  I pulled back and demanded, “Tell me you want my cock.”

  “God, Rowan,” she cried out as I pumped my fingers in and out of her tight heat even harder. “I want it. So bad. Please.”

  The sound of her begging pushed me to my limit. I lifted us both up so I could reach my wallet in the pocket of my pants. Flipping it open quickly, I pulled out the condom I’d stored—just in case—and tossed the wallet aside, not caring where it landed. Navie rose up on her knees and reached for my fly, unbuttoning and unzipping with shaking fingers so she could free the rigid erection beneath.

  “Dear God,” she breathed as she stared with wide eyes. My cock swelled further under her attention.

  “Not God, sweetheart.” I chuckled. “But thanks for the compliment.”

  At that, her eyes flew up, her expression immediately sobering as she furrowed her brow. “Don’t call me that,” she said in a pained whisper and I remembered that night in my car on the way back from the police station, when she’d first asked me never to call her that. The name I used for all my women.

  “Hey,” I spoke softly, taking her chin between my fingers and tilting her face to mine. “I won’t call you that,” I told her earnestly. “I swear. You believe me?”

  She gave a jerky nod before taking the condom packet from my fingers and ripping it open. I watched in awe as she slid it down my length and aligned the head of my cock to her opening. I didn’t give her any more room for thought. Taking her hips in my hands, I thrust up at the same time I shoved her down, filling her completely in one hard thrust. Her head flew back on a loud cry and I knew right then once wasn’t going to be damn near enough.

  “Perfect,” I grunted as I hammered into her, drawing out every single moan, every breath, every sound I could force from her. “You feel so fucking perfect, baby.”

 

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