My Playboy Crush

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My Playboy Crush Page 15

by Katerina Cole


  “Shit, man.”

  “But then there’s Jeff,” I said, frowning. “I mean, I know what I need to do, what I want to do, but it sounds like if I do it, I’m burning my bridges with him.”

  “And what do you want to do?”

  “I want to marry her,” I said, stopping and turning to face Rhett, who looked at me as if I’d just told him I was a werewolf. Hell, even I was surprised that the words came from my mouth, but once they were out, I felt euphoria run through me. It felt good to say it. Damn good. “I love her, and I’m going to make her my wife.”

  It was a short and simple statement, and Rhett just stared at me for a long time.

  “Shit,” he responded finally, “I mean, it sounds like your mind’s made up then, but seriously, if the real Bruin gets back, tell him the new Bruin is ruining his reputation,” he added with a boyish grin. I punched him in the arm and shook my head, laughing along with him. “Seriously though, Bruin, if that’s how you feel, I’m happy for you.”

  “It is,” I said, feeling better about it every time I said it, beaming. “And it feels damn good.”

  “So, what are you going to do about Jeff?” he asked.

  “I know what I’m going to do,” I said with a frown. “I’m going to be honest about it. I think Jill feels the same way about me, and if Jeff can’t get over that, then…” I paused. “Then he’s not the man I’ve always thought he is. That’ll be on him.”

  “Sounds like you’ve thought this through.” Rhett crossed his arms and nodded at me.

  “More than you know.” I laughed. “Guess I just need some other asshole my size to try it out on before I get into a fistfight with Jeff.”

  “Anytime, bro,” Rhett said. “Give me a heads up if you’re serious about the fighting part, though, I don’t want to get blood on this particular shirt.”

  “Jackass,” I said, punching him in the arm again. “Come on, let’s grab a drink. I could use an Old Fashioned to wash down the sake.”

  That, and I needed a drink to settle down the rush I was feeling in my head from admitting it to myself.

  I was in love.

  And Jillian was going to be mine.

  Twenty-Four

  Jillian

  I was nervous.

  It was stupid of me to feel that way, and I knew it. I hadn’t seen or heard from my ex-boyfriend in months. We weren’t even close to being a part of each other’s lives anymore. Hell, we had never been all that serious when we were together, anyway. At least not from my perspective.

  Daniel and I had been too much alike to last, it seemed. We had met through work, our paths crossing so frequently that finally we decided to give it a go. It seemed like fate. Or something like that. I had told myself that over and over again during our three-month relationship that it was fate. It was meant to be. There had to be a reason why we kept running into each other all the time.

  That was how it always worked in the movies. Boy meets girl, they notice each other. Then, they just keep noticing each other, running into each other at work events, bonding over having to deal with the same annoying clients together. It seemed kind of perfect at first. We were both really, insanely busy people with hectic lives and even crazier schedules. We both flew all over the world, schmoozing and mingling with high-class people who sometimes looked at us like personal assistants rather than colleagues. Daniel was one of the first people I met who seemed to really understand the unique stress and fun of my line of work.

  And besides, if we were just going to keep running smack into each other over and over again, why not make the most of it? Daniel was sweet. Humble, despite the kind of high-stakes work he was involved with. He was essentially an accountant, but the kind of accountant who only dealt with extremely wealthy accounts. He helped millionaires and billionaires balance their checkbooks, helped them sort through their various infinite lines of credit and figure out how to file their complicated taxes. He advised them on the stock market, on what kinds of investments were worth the risk and which ones would land them in bankruptcy territory. It was a lot of work. A lot of very boring, complex math.

  Luckily for him, he was kind of a math whiz, and he genuinely enjoyed doing all those annoying calculations. I, on the other hand, had never been into mathematics. In college, I had worked as an editor, so I was more about writing and communications. More creative exploits. Of course, my current job didn’t have much to do with that. But I liked to think that my attention to detail and my ability to use my words to persuade people were helpful holdovers from my college days. Despite our differences, Daniel and I had clicked on some level.

  I stood in front of my full-length mirror in my bedroom, looking at my outfit.

  It was nine in the evening. I was wearing the same outfit I had worn earlier to my business meeting. A white blouse tucked into a black pencil skirt, paired with stylish red heels and a heavy blazer to combat the sudden cold snap Atlanta was experiencing. I frowned, wondering if this was an appropriate ensemble for a reunion with my ex. He had always liked me in red. Maybe it was too much.

  I kicked off the scarlet heels and put on nude kitten heels instead.

  “I guess this’ll work,” I mumbled, turning to look at the back of my skirt, making sure it wasn’t too short in the back.

  I didn’t know what the hell Daniel wanted with me tonight, but I was damn sure not going to let him think I was trying to impress him. We were broken up. And we had been for months. There was nothing between us. I had no reason to impress him.

  “He’s just some guy I used to make out with,” I told my reflection in the mirror. “We never even had sex the whole time we were together. He’s never seen you naked and he sure as hell isn’t going to see that tonight, either.”

  I blushed, embarrassed of myself for this dumb pep talk. It was stupid to assume Daniel wanted to see me for some romantic or sexual purpose. If he was trying to make this a booty call, he was going to be sorely disappointed. I wasn’t interested. Sure, when he had first broken up with me, I was upset. I might have even cried a little bit. But I was over it. And once I got over the sting of being dumped, it had become blatantly clear to me that we were never meant to be anyway. No matter how much I had tried to convince myself of that when we were together.

  “You’ve got this,” I told myself, putting on my blazer.

  And with that, I picked up my purse and headed downstairs in the elevator, calling a cab on my way down. I walked out and climbed into the sedan, feeling pretty confident. In a way, I kind of hoped he was trying to get me back. After the unceremonious manner in which he’d dumped me, I thought it might feel kind of nice to turn him down.

  I told the cab driver to take me to a bar Danny had texted me about. A place I had forgotten all about in the months after we broke up. It was just a sports bar, unassuming and loud, full of local college kids who were there to get drunk and yell at the sports games on TV. Daniel and I were certainly not college kids anymore, but he had always liked that bar because, as he said, he was highly unlikely to run into anyone he worked with. His rich, snooty clients always preferred higher-end bars than this one.

  Once I got there, I actually did feel a little nervous again. I walked into the bar and went straight to the counter to order a rum and coke. If I was going to survive this night, I had a feeling I was going to need some liquid courage. Even if I didn’t have feelings for my ex anymore, it was still bound to be a little awkward.

  As I was turning away from the bartender, drink in hand, suddenly Danny was right in front of me. He was smiling, looking positively delighted to see me. He looked exactly the same as he had months ago when I last saw him. Just under six feet, with blond hair and brown eyes. He had a sweet, almost boyish face. The only thing different now was that he had glasses, which made him look like a bigger nerd than before. It suited him, though.

  “Jill.” He threw his arms around me in a hug. “It’s so fantastic to see you again. You look amazing.”

  “Oh, uh, thank
you,” I responded awkwardly. I forced a smile. “Can I buy your drink?”

  “No, no, I’ve got it.” he said, grinning from ear to ear. “There’s a table over there in the corner if you want to sit down. I’ll be there in a minute. I’m so glad you came.”

  “Okay,” I said, hurrying away to the table.

  I sat down and immediately began sipping my drink, wondering if I was making a big mistake being here. Danny came back and sat down across from me, his cheeks pink. I could tell he was nervous, too.

  Good, I thought.

  “How are you?” he asked.

  “I’m good. Tired. I just got back from California early this morning,” I said. “Been going all day, and I’m a little jetlagged.”

  “Still busy as ever, then?”

  I nodded. “Yes. You?”

  “Yes. Still flying all over the place. It’s always nice to come back to Atlanta, though. I have a lot of good memories here,” he said, smiling. I knew what he meant. Memories with me.

  “So, any particular reason you wanted to meet?” I asked, cutting to the chase.

  Daniel’s cheery expression faltered a moment. “Well, mostly, I just thought it would be nice to catch up. It’s been a while.”

  “Yeah. Well, after you dumped me I wasn’t exactly ready to be friends.”

  He hung his head for a moment and then reached across the table to take my hands. I was too stunned by the gesture to pull away. “Look, Jillian. You’ve always preferred when I get to the point, so that’s what I’ll do. I miss you. I’ve been missing you. All this time.”

  I blinked a few times. “You missed me?”

  “Yes,” he said firmly. “A lot. In fact, after we broke up—”

  “After you dumped me over email,” I corrected him.

  He winced slightly. “Yes. After that, I went through a tough time. I thought about my life and how busy I was and how great things were going but I realized I still wasn’t happy. Because something was missing. You.”

  I pulled my hands away and put them in my lap. “Danny.”

  “I know, I know,” he said, putting his hands up. “It’s crazy. Out of left field. I get it. But let me explain, okay? I messed up. I made a mistake when I broke up with you, Jillian. I was an idiot. I didn’t know what I had. But I do now. I looked around myself and realized you belonged there. In my world. Beside me.”

  “Danny.”

  “I’m not finished yet,” he said, holding up one finger. “My business is booming. I’m looking to expand, hire on new people. And you know who was the first person I thought of?”

  “Me?” I suggested flatly.

  He nodded. “Yes. You. You’re smart, you’re persuasive, you’re used to handling large sums of money and working with luxury-class clientele. You’d be perfect as a partner. Both in business and in well, life.”

  “Are you offering me a job and telling me you want me back?” I asked, frowning.

  “Yes. Exactly. That is exactly what I’m doing.”

  I scoffed, shaking my head. “It doesn’t work that way.”

  “Why not?” he said, not following at all. “I know you were hurt when we broke up. Isn’t this what you want?”

  “Danny, I was hurt because you dumped me over email. And because breakups always suck. But you and me, we’re done. We’ve been done,” I explained as gently as I could. “I’ve moved on, and you will, too.”

  “I don’t want to move on. I know what I want. It’s fate. You and me—we’re fate,” he argued, beginning to sound truly hurt. I didn’t want to break his heart, but I had to be honest.

  Then it hit me.

  If I had to be honest with Daniel, I also needed to be honest with myself. And if I was being totally, brutally honest, I knew exactly what I wanted. I had known since I was a dumb teenager. Since that first Thanksgiving when I looked across the table and saw Bruin Kincaid.

  Suddenly, I stood up. “What? Where are you going?” Danny asked.

  I gave him an apologetic look, my heart pounding.

  “I’m sorry, Daniel. But I have to go. There’s something I have to do.”

  Twenty-Five

  Bruin

  Back in Ft. Lauderdale, I stood on the deck of the Mirabella, my heart whipping itself up into a storm as I leaned against the railing and glared at everything.

  I still had to be physically present to sell the boat. At least, I wanted to. I assumed Jeff was going to get some other broker besides Jillian to oversee the transaction. I couldn’t decide which prospect was worse: the thought of him sending some pencil-necked man to come try to fumble through the paperwork Jillian already had done the legwork for, or some other girl in a short pencil skirt meant as a distraction for me.

  Either one seemed pretty reasonable for Jeff, given our icy relationship since talking about Jillian seriously.

  One of the servers, a pretty young blonde I’d hired recently, made her way up to me with a mojito on a tray and a smile on her face. “Your drink, sir,” she said, presenting it to me.

  I took it wordlessly and put a fifty-dollar bill on the tray as a tip. I wasn’t in the mood for conversation. My eyes were fixed on the deck, my jaw clenching and unclenching as I thought over the ship.

  “You seem a little worried, sir.” She tilted her head to the side. I shot her a glance, wondering why she was still there. “Is... there anything else I can do for you to help with whatever’s on your mind?”

  She moved her hips ever so subtly as she spoke, and I could tell what she was insinuating. Maybe that was my old self’s fault. I had a reputation in the hiring pool, and this one was probably looking for a cozy spot in my bed for preferential treatment.

  “Yeah.” My expression didn’t’ change. “Another mojito in about fifteen minutes. That’ll be all.”

  She stiffened a little, but she got the message and gave a curt nod with a disappointed face before hurrying off.

  I turned and faced the water, downing half my drink in a single swig, tasting the rum strong and sweet, just how I liked it. Overwhelming mint could only do so much to dull what was stabbing at my gut, though.

  I needed to figure out something with Jillian. I couldn’t just let things stay the way they were, but I wasn’t about to stomp all over her career in the same stroke.

  My phone buzzed. I looked down to read the text.

  “Jillian?” I murmured out loud.

  Still at the yacht today?

  I raised an eyebrow and texted back.

  Yeah. Any clue what Jeff plans to do? Another broker coming over?

  I waited half a minute before it buzzed again with the reply.

  Look down

  I blinked at the text a few times. There was no way. Was there? I turned my eyes down to the marina and scanned the area until my gaze caught a waving hand, an incredible figure, a head of beautiful dark hair, and the greenest eyes I’d ever seen. She was wearing a white blouse, professional black slacks, and matching flats.

  “Jill!” I shouted out, my heart somersaulting before I took off running down to the gangway. What the hell was she doing down here? My face was a sloppy grin, and I couldn’t help that, but my mind was all over the place trying to reorganize itself.

  All my plans and worries had just been tossed up in the air, and God knew where they were going to land.

  I reached the gangway, where Jillian was already making her way across. Miguel wasn’t far away, giving me a what-should-I-do expression, but when he saw my face and Jillian making her way toward me, he backed away understandingly.

  “Jill, oh my God,” I said, still in disbelief. “How the hell? What are you doing here?” I had to hold myself back, I had to tell her about everything that had happened with Jeff, I had to sit down and rationally think things through.

  Jillian interrupted those thoughts by nearly breaking into a run and jumping into my arms, throwing her arms around me, and pulling herself up my shoulders to kiss me, holding me there as I groaned into it.

  On instinct, I
held her tight, pulling her whole body into a warm hug while I savored the feeling of our lips together. It had hardly been any time at all, but I felt like I was dying of thirst in the desert, and Jillian was fresh spring water.

  Both of us let out sighs of delight as we were locked into each other, and I took a few steps back away from the gangway, arms full of the woman I loved.

  “Jill,” I whispered when the kiss finally broke.

  “Fuck, Bruin, I missed you so much,” she whimpered, nuzzling her face into my neck. Her small hands felt up the muscles on my shoulders and neck, and her soft lips brushed along the nape. I tilted my head back to enjoy the feeling while my cock grew thick in my pants.

  I hadn’t been expecting any of it, but my body knew exactly how to react.

  I squeezed her ass with a strong hand, and I let her attack my neck until I couldn’t resist the urge to attack hers anymore. My own mouth went to her neck, and I breathed on the sensitive flesh like it was my prey.

  On my ship, in my territory, that was exactly what Jillian was.

  As I let my teeth graze her neck and took pleasure in every single whimper and moan I drew out of her, I walked us backward to the door leading to the dining room. I didn’t care where we were, but I wanted some privacy, and I wanted it now.

  We stumbled clumsily into that moody, beautiful dining room, and we terrified the couple of crew members who were in there already. One look at us, though, and they took the hint and vanished behind the scenes. I expected everyone to vanish below deck for a while, but if they didn’t make it out in time, that was on them.

  It was my yacht, and I’d fuck the love of my life wherever I wanted to.

  Every time that thought crossed my mind, love, it made my cock swell bigger and my need for Jillian get stronger. We made out sloppily while I walked us back to the very dinner table where we’d shared that first night together.

 

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