by Amy Brent
Mr. Edmund, one of my high-end investors, sighed on the other end. “Make it right, Mr. Marx, or I’m pulling my funding. I can’t risk these hackers getting a hold of my personal information or that of my clients. I am not in the business of taking risks.”
“Neither am I,” I said firmly. “Trust me.”
“Trust you?” Mr. Edmund barked out a bitter laugh. “My boy, you asked me to trust you when you first asked me to open my wallet, and now look where we are. Four months into the project and you have a first-rate hacker on your hands. You’re lucky you caught the breach before he managed to get to anything important. Forty-eight hours, Mr. Marx. I will give you forty-eight hours. If the problem isn’t resolved, I expect my money wire transferred back to my account immediately. Am I clear?”
“Yes, sir,” I said, pinching the bridge of my nose and squeezing my eyes closed. This was the third conversation since last night that had ended with the threat of pulling out of my app project. I ended the call and slumped forward on my desk.
The security breach had been intense. I was still working to find out where the hacker had got in—or if it was even a hacker in the first place. I suspected malware or a bot, but explaining that to some of the investors was like trying to explain the difference between data and WiFi to a ninety-six-year-old. Some things just didn’t compute.
I kept my cool during the calls, trusting that my team would resolve the issue before we lost any more funding. So far, only one client had pulled out. One out of fifteen wasn’t all that bad—so long as it stayed at that number.
My phone rang. I groaned, preparing to be yelled at by yet another client, and answered the call. I was surprised to hear Andrew’s voice.
“Hey, man,” my brother said cheerfully. “How’s it going? You still up for drinks later this week? I was thinking Thursday. How does that sound?”
“Hey, Andrew,” I said. “Maybe. I can’t commit to anything right now. Some shit went down at work, and I’m so screwed. Can I call you on Thursday afternoon and let you know?”
“Yeah, sure thing. Is everything alright?”
“It will be. Hopefully. I need to figure it all out fast.”
“Alright. Well, good luck buddy. Hey, while I have you on the phone, have you and Allie patched things up? Things looked like they were on the up and up for you two at the cocktail party.”
“Things are complicated right now,” I said.
“Complicated for a reason, or complicated because you’re making them that way?”
“What the hell does that mean?” I asked, my words coming out a little harsher than I intended.
“It means, are you making this a bigger deal than it needs to be? Have you forgiven her yet?”
“It’s not that simple,” I said. “I’m working on it.”
Andrew laughed on the other end. “Working on it? Bro, if you don’t get your shit together, you’re going to lose her for good.”
“To who? You?” I challenged.
“Steven, get your head out of your ass and get a grip. It was ten years ago.”
“Yeah, and all I can seem to think about is the two of you lying to my face for a whole decade. It’s fucked up, Andrew, and I’m not cool with it, alright?”
“Stop being such a baby. So what? She didn’t tell you. Things were harder on her side then than they are on yours now. She was sixteen and thought she was going to have a kid. She was scared as hell. Of course, she wanted to bury it when she made it through. What person wouldn’t want to? And now you’re all bent out of shape about it because you think she owed you total transparency? Look, someone’s gotta get real with you Steven. You’re being an asshole.”
“Yeah, well, I take after my older brother I guess.”
Andrew sighed into the phone. “I’m on your side, believe it or not. I want you to be happy. That girl makes you happy. Don’t screw it up.”
She did make me happy. She always had.
During the three months that I hadn’t spoken to Allie, I had gone to bed furious with myself more nights than not. I thought that I’d blown all of my chances with her for good. Then, when I saw her in that diner, and she looked up at me and smiled, a little sliver of hope emerged inside me. There was a chance that I could patch things up and make them right. There was a chance I could get her back in my life.
Was I really going to throw that all away again?
“I don’t know how to move past it Andrew,” I confessed, slumping backward in my chair. It creaked and groaned beneath me. I’d been sitting on it for nine straight hours dealing with clients. My bones felt as tired as its plastic pieces. “Every time I look at her all I can think about is what happened between the two of you. I don’t want to. I want to forget it—to move on. But I can’t seem to get a grip.”
Andrew sighed on the other end. I could picture him sitting at his own desk in his home office. He was probably fidgeting with something on hand like he usually did, a stapler or paperweight. “Listen, Steven. I get it, okay? If I could take any of it back, I would. I never wanted to be the reason you and Allie couldn’t make things work. If I could do anything to change things, I would. Do you believe me?”
“Yeah,” I said. “I do.”
“Then trust me when I tell you, Allie feels the same way. If you can’t forget about it, then you can’t forget about it. But maybe you can learn to live with it by focusing on other things. Like the fact that Allie is head over heels in love with you and has been for a decade. Isn’t that enough?”
I didn’t know if it was.
“I gotta go, man,” I said, leaning forward and resting my elbows on the table. “I’ll let you know about Thursday night later on in the week, alright? Have a good one.”
I hung up when Andrew was halfway through answering. I didn’t have the energy to carry on with the conversation. After everything that had happened at work with the hacker and the near app crash, I was drained.
I stood. My knees ached and my hips grated. I stretched, arching my back like a cat and reaching up to the ceiling. I put my suit coat on, and made my way out of the office, past the receptionist, down the elevator, and to my car. I drove home in silence. My head was pounding, my eyes were heavy, and all I wanted was to forget about everything.
At home, I had a hot shower. The water and the steam helped me feel refreshed and more myself. When I stepped out, I wrapped myself in my towel and busied myself with a couple mundane chores; wiping the kitchen counters down, picking up my laundry from the bedroom floor, and changing the garbage bag under the sink.
I knew I should have been returning Allie’s calls. She had called me several times during the disaster at work. I had never been available to answer her call. I felt a little guilty; I felt worse for not calling her now.
I couldn’t quite bring myself to do it. It was easier to let it be right now; to push it from my mind and focus on other things.
The other things I focused on ended up being Allie-related anyway. Like the soft milkiness of the inside of her thighs, and the way she had spread her legs in the back seat of the limo on the way to the cocktail party.
I shook my head, trying to evict the image of her from my brain as I washed a few dishes in the kitchen sink. Try as I might, I couldn’t keep them at bay.
I thought of her panties and the way she had pulled them aside as if she was daring me to crawl over to her on my hands and knees. She wanted me between her legs. I thought of the black, lacy strap over her hips, the thickness of her thighs, and the curves of her calves.
I dropped the dish scrubby, turned off the water, and dried my hands on the towel around my waist. Fuck trying to think of other things. Allie was the only thing in my life worth thinking about.
I padded into the bedroom. The towel around my waist came off with a tug and fell to the carpet, where it would stay until morning. I fell onto my bed and shimmied up so that my head was resting on my pillows.
I was already hard. I had felt the blood rushing to my cock while I scrub
bed the dishes. A single thought of Allie always did that to me. I was powerless to the burning need that was racing through me. It urged me to reach down and grip my shaft. I knew this wouldn’t last long. I was hot and heavy and already breathless.
I couldn’t handle how sexy Allie was. She didn’t even know it. Those bright pink lips of hers and how they were often parted, just a little bit, leaving a tiny opening between them that I wanted to run my thumb over, drove me wild with lust. Her slender neck and earlobes always begged for me to kiss them.
I ran my hand over my shaft as I considered reaching for my lotion. No. I didn’t need it. Not this time. I was ready to come apart any second.
I closed my eyes and remembered fucking Allie in the limo on the way home. My fingers had slipped inside her, and she had enveloped me with her warm, silky wetness. I remembered covering her mouth with my hand so she wouldn’t cry out as I made her cum all over my fingers. Slipping my cock deep inside her, and fucking her as hard as I could with her legs spread wide apart had been so hot. I remembered the swollen pinkness of her, the tightness of her, and the way she had watched me as I made her cum.
Then I thought of filling her with my cum, and how she had rubbed herself when we were done.
I came, fast and messy. Lines of cum dashed up my stomach, and I gasped for breath. I hadn’t realized I had been holding it in.
I lay back, feeling at ease for the first time in days, and found myself wishing Allie was lying beside me. Even though I had just finished myself, I knew if she were nearby, I wouldn’t have been able to keep my hands off or out of her. She was too sexy, too tempting, and perfect.
She always had been.
Chapter 26
Allie
James Lipton was pacing back and forth in his office. He had been on the phone for nearly two hours dealing with some sort of escalation with an author whose publishing date for their newest novel had been pushed back another three months. Through the windows, I could hear James raising his voice every now and then before he would sigh and look at the ceiling in an attempt to relax. Then the conversation would start, heat up again, and the cycle would repeat itself.
He wouldn’t notice if I made a personal call at work, I was sure of it. He was so tied up with his own issues that he would be oblivious to it. I chewed my bottom lip and watched as James went to the windows of his office and pressed his forehead against them. It looked like he was fighting a battle he was not going to win. I wanted to call the author back after and thank them for giving James a taste of his own medicine.
I reached for the phone, my heart hammering in my chest. I needed answers. Steven still hadn’t called me back. I didn’t know where we stood or why he was so upset with me. The night of the cocktail party had gone so well, and the sex in the limo had been too good for him to have been angry with me then. I wondered if something had happened when he went home after. Maybe he had changed his mind. Or decided I wasn’t worth all the drama.
Regardless of what had happened, I needed to know. I couldn’t keep going feeling like my head was buried in the sand. I needed closure, one way or another, and I didn’t much care who was going to give it to me at this point.
So I called Steven’s brother.
The phone rang four times before Andrew answered in his professional voice, probably not recognizing the phone number of my office. “Good afternoon, this is Andrew Marx.”
“Andrew,” I said softly so no one in the office could hear me. “Hey, it’s Allie.”
“Allie?” Andrew said happily into the phone. “Hey, good to hear from you. Why are you whispering?”
“I’m at work. Not really allowed to make personal phone calls on company time, you know how it is. How are you?”
“I’m good. You caught me at the perfect time. I finally have a second to breathe,” he said.
“Oh, I’m sorry. If you’re busy, I can call back later.”
“Stop it. It’s fine. I’m happy to chat. What’s up?”
I fiddled with my mouse cord and chewed my bottom lip. I was so nervous to ask the question I needed to ask. Andrew waited patiently on the other end for me to gather the nerve to start talking. When I finally did, my words came out in a rush. “I know this is childish, and I know I shouldn’t be asking you, but I wanted to know if you’ve heard from Steven since the party. Like, have you guys had a chance to really talk about everything? I want to know what I can do to make it up to him. I want him so badly, Andrew. I love him. You know I do. But I don’t know if there’s any way he can forgive me for what I did.”
“For what we did,” Andrew clarified.
“Sure. What we did. The point is, I can’t figure out what’s going on in his head.”
“Well,” Andrew said slowly, “let me be honest with you.”
My heart started racing. My palms were cold and sweaty. My mouth was dry. Was I ready for his honesty? Was I going to be able to handle it? I assured myself that whatever Andrew said couldn’t be worse than the constant state of not knowing I was currently suffering through. I needed the truth more than I needed the illusion of it.
“Steven is in love with you, Allie. He knows it. I know it, and somewhere deep down you know it, too. But he’s bad at handling his feelings. Something else you and I both know all too well. He’s—for lack of a better word—being a total baby about this whole thing. He still feels betrayed.”
“Is that why he won’t call me back?” I asked. “Because of the betrayal?”
“Wait, what? He still hasn’t called you back?” I could see Andrew’s expression of incredulity like he was sitting right in front of me.
“No,” I said. “He hasn’t. I haven’t heard from him since the night of the party.”
“He’s such a little twerp,” Andrew muttered.
I glanced over at James in his office to make sure he was still on the phone. He was. His hand was pressed against his forehead, and he was doubled over like someone had just punched him in the gut. I really needed to call that author and tell them that they were my idol.
I hunched forward over my desk so that James couldn’t see me if he looked my way. I was also hidden from view from the other employees who were working at their own desks.
“Do you think he will call eventually?” I asked.
“Sure,” Andrew said. “But how long are you really willing to wait for him?”
“For as long as it takes,” I said. “I was the one who hurt him. I get where he’s coming from. I lied to him for ten years. You and I hid something huge. He’s having a hard time shaking that off and moving on.”
“Allie, give me a break. It’s been four months since he found out. Not to mention, what happened then holds no merit on who we are now. You have your own life, and so do I. We were never involved after that. That’s what he’s worried about. Sure, he’s hurt. But he also doesn’t trust us. Which, I might add, he has no place not trusting us.” Andrew finished with a huff. I imagined him leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest.
I twirled the phone cord in one finger and sighed. “If the trust is really the most important part, and it’s broken, I don’t know how I can come back from that. How long will he hold this against me?”
“Your guess is as good as mine,” Andrew said. “But you and I both know how stubborn Steven is. He gets it from our mother, undoubtedly. You remember how they were when they used to fight? Like two pit bulls. I get chills thinking about it.”
I smiled involuntarily. “I remember. They would do it at the dinner table when I was over sometimes. So awkward.”
“You’re telling me,” Andrew said. “You got to go home after. I was stuck inside with the two of them until one of them tuckered out. You know how often that happened? Never.”
I laughed and shook my head. “It was good talking to you, Andrew. Thank you for helping me put things in perspective. I guess I need to wait until he comes around. Then, maybe he’ll be ready to talk. Maybe we can finally bury this whole thing.”
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“That’s the spirit, Allie cat. Chin up. Steven’s a good guy, and he cares about you. Things will all work out as they should. And, once he’s forgiven you, make sure to give him a smack upside the head. He deserves it.”
I laughed. “Thank you for everything. It means a lot.”
“You’re welcome,” Andrew said.
We both hung up the phone. I sighed, feeling a bit better about my predicament, and then looked up.
Someone was standing in front of my desk. At first, I thought it might be James. A little sliver of panic caught in my throat as I prepared to be yelled at.
But when my eyes swept up to meet the face staring down at me the panic vanished.
Steven was there. He was wearing a navy blue suit with a cream colored shirt underneath. The top buttons were undone. He had just come from work, presumably. In his left hand, he held a beautiful bouquet of white roses. The edges of the petals looked like they had been dipped in sparkling silver.
The smell of them wafted over to me. I grinned at him, reaching out to stroke one of the soft petals. “Steven,” I said, “these are gorgeous. You didn’t have to—”
“Was that Andrew you were talking to?” Steven asked flatly.
I blinked.
I was just noticing the hardness of his eyes and the tightness in his jaw. He was angry.
