“Maybe you’re right.”
“I wish I could have been there for you. Although, knowing me, I’d glom on to something I saw and talk about it until you yelled at me to go away.”
She smiled, and the internal alarms faded. “Such as?”
“Oh, I don’t know…random stuff that caught my eye, like a crooked toupee or mismatched socks.” I hugged her tightly, relishing the way she relaxed in my grip.
“You would’ve made fun of people? That’s kind of mean.”
“It is, but I’d have gladly risked getting caught and smacked upside the head if it distracted you from all the sad stuff for a little while.”
“I would have seen right through what you were trying to do.” She rested her head on my shoulder, her warm breath fanning across my throat. “But I wouldn’t have stopped you.”
Neither of us said anything else, falling into a contented silence. Collette drifted off, lulled to sleep by the warmth of the fire. I doted on her, stroking her hair and face while cradling her.
At some point today, a shift had occurred on the intimacy scale. Physical need now took the backburner to emotional. I had a gorgeous, scantily clad woman in a romantic setting and nothing–not even the basest hormonal urge–could convince me to wake her up for a romp between the sheets. I loved her too much, cared for her too deeply to turn this tender moment into a sexual encounter.
When I finally began to feel sleepy, I carefully disentangled myself from her and crept across the room to turn off the fireplace. She snuggled right up to me before I finished pulling the covers over our bodies, using my chest as a pillow.
I inhaled the light floral scent of her shampoo and closed my eyes, grateful for a quiet end to a busy day.
15
Ryan
“Hey, come on in. Let me enter these last two sets of numbers and then we can go,” I said to Diana, who hovered in my office doorway.
She stepped inside and leaned against a wall, looking around at the pictures I’d placed on top of the filing cabinet. “Aw, you two are so disgustingly cute it makes me want to hork.” She pointed at a picture of Collette and me at the pumpkin patch. “When did you guys go there?”
“Gee, thanks. Last Saturday afternoon.” I saved my work and locked my laptop, following her out into the hallway.
We parted ways when the elevator hit the ground floor so she could smoke a cigarette.
She’d started back up a week ago after Darren reamed her for giving the wrong set of financial reports to one of her clients. Sharing confidential information was grounds for termination, regardless of whether it was accidental or deliberate. Darren and his boss had argued over keeping an employee who had enough experience to know better than to make such a careless mistake. In the end, they decided to put her on probation since neither of the two clients involved in the snafu had taken their business elsewhere.
Once we had our coffees in hand, she gestured at one of the small tables scattered around the shop. “Could we sit for a few minutes? There’s something I want to talk to you about.”
I glanced at my watch. “I have a conference call in half an hour, but I’m all ears until then. Did something else happen with Darren or one of your clients?”
“No, no.” She shook her head and popped the lid off of her drink. “I need to ask you for a favor. A really big one.”
“Okay…” I took a sip of my Americano and wondered what it could be.
“Remember the money you gave me?” Before I could reply, she continued with, “Carl sort of found out about it and had a bad night at the roulette table.”
Anger, white-hot and uncontrollable, surged through my veins. My face heated as I stared at Diana, completely taken aback at how casually she spoke, as though we were discussing the damn weather instead of her dipshit, low-life boyfriend pissing away hundreds of dollars. “How? I thought you put that money in an online account and didn’t plan to tell him it even existed.”
Her blue eyes widened. “Carl’s been under a lot of pressure at work lately, so I gave him a few grand to play with when he went out with his brother and–”
“Are you kidding me?” I snapped, smacking the top of the table so hard my cup tipped over. “Let me guess. He blew through it in less than five minutes. Or did he lose it all on the first bet?” Using my hand as a dam to keep coffee from spilling on the floor, I sopped up the mess with a napkin. “Why did you give money to a person with a gambling problem? You’re enabling him and feeding his addiction.”
“It was his brother’s birthday!” she exclaimed, tossing her hands up in the air. “Carl wanted to take Richie out and show him a good time. I didn’t see any harm in giving him some spending money.”
I closed my eyes and counted to ten. “How much did you actually give him?”
“Five thousand. Carl called and invited me to join them, so I went and withdrew another five for me to use. I was doing really well at blackjack, but then there was a crappy hand, and I took a big loss.”
The dull ache of a massive headache throbbed in my temples. “Well, at least you still have half left.” I sipped my coffee, taking another peek at the time.
Her gaze dipped and shifted to the side. “I was going to use what you gave me as a down payment on the house we’ve been renting. The mortgage company won’t take less than five percent. If you could just give me another ten to make up the difference, I’ll be all set.”
I gaped at her. She had some motherfucking nerve treating me like an ATM. And judging by the way she wouldn’t look at me, Diana knew on some level that asking me for more money was a ballsy thing to do.
“No,” I said, holding up a hand when she moved to speak. “It isn’t my responsibility to rescue you from a shitstorm you willingly marched into.”
Redness spread across her cheeks. “No?” she asked incredulously, her eyes bugging out of their sockets. “You wouldn’t even have that money if it wasn’t for me, you ungrateful bastard.”
“I’m ungrateful? I tried to do the right thing and split the prize with you, but you turned me down.”
“God, I knew you would act this way.” She snatched up her purse, which happened to be the one I’d bought as part of her thank you gift. Talk about irony in all its fucked-up glory.
“What way?” I stood and angrily grabbed my trash, eager to get the hell away from her as fast as possible before I lost my temper.
“Like you’re better than everyone else. You make me sick with how you strut around with your nose in the air.”
“You’re out of your damn mind. I never asked you to buy me that ticket. And I sure as hell don’t walk around the way you claim. I suggest you take a long look in the mirror, Diana, because if anyone needs an attitude adjustment, it’s you.” I ignored the people watching our soap opera-style argument and headed toward the exit.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” she yelled, her shoes pounding on the floor as she gained on me.
I stopped and turned to face her, fighting to keep my composure. “You continually screw up, making the same mistakes again and again instead of learning from them. Then you expect everyone else to fix them for you. Grow up and take care of them yourself.”
“Fuck you, you self-righteous prick.” she spat, flying out the door and running past the elevators while digging in her purse. A pack of cigarettes appeared in her hand as she hustled toward the rear of the building.
I went upstairs and downed two aspirin before getting on my conference call. I spent the rest of the afternoon holed up in my office, plowing through task after task in a rage-fueled frenzy.
Spinning around in my chair, I looked at the buildings across the street and reached for my phone.
Hey, beautiful. Any chance you’d like to grab a drink?
Collette’s reply came less than a minute later. Sure. What’s up?
I grinned, my thumbs flying across the touchpad. Me, if you talk dirty.
Perv. Why do you need a drink?
Crappy day
. I’ll explain when I see you. Can you be ready in five?
See you soon. Love you.
Twenty minutes later, I signaled the bartender for another round and gently pushed up Collette’s lower jaw.
“She called you a…” her voice dropped to a whisper, “prick right in front of everyone in Starbucks?”
“A self-righteous prick,” I corrected, nodding my thanks while accepting two longnecks.
“Want me to kick her ass for you?” She held her fists up in a Rocky Balboa pose, bobbing her head from side to side. “I can totally take her down.”
I laughed. “Diana might not be my favorite person right now, but I don’t want her to wind up in the hospital. And you’d be more likely to hurl insults at her instead of punches.”
“Words are my weapon of choice.”
“Yes, they are, which is why I do my best to stay on your good side.” I took a pull from my bottle and grinned at her over the top. Playful banter was exactly what I needed to push the nasty shit from earlier to the furthest recesses of my mind. It felt good to laugh and smile after stewing all afternoon.
“Are you okay?” She studied me, those warm brown eyes brimming with concern.
“Yes and no.” I swallowed more beer. “I’ve gotten a bad vibe from Diana ever since my promotion. She made a snarky comment about how it should have gone to someone else and tried to backpedal when I let her know I didn’t appreciate it. What bothers me the most is how she called me an ungrateful bastard and acted like I was obligated to give her more money.”
“Money can make or break a friendship,” Collette said on a sigh.
“Did you lose any friends after you won the lottery?” I grabbed a handful of peanuts and tossed a few in my mouth.
“No. Everyone wanted a piece of me, though. I had to change my phone number because the amount of calls and texts coming in were insane.”
“Ugh,” I groaned. “I went through that bullshit, too. All of a sudden, everybody wanted to ‘catch up’ or see how I was doing because ‘it had been way too long since we last hung out.’ The messed-up part is that I don’t recall ever actually hanging out with some of these people, at least not outside of parties or other group activities.”
“Some people have no shame. A girl I used to be best friends with in high school really pulled out all the stops. She’s the reason why I had to get a new number. Called me once a day and left messages that made it sound like she’d forgotten about how she royally screwed me over.” Collette held a finger telephone up to her ear. “Heyyy Lettie,” she said in a nasal voice. “We should totally get together and hit the shops on Oak Street one afternoon next week. I heard several of them are having trunk sales. We could grab dinner afterward. Call me back and let me know when you’re free, okay? Love ya, mwah.”
“Lettie?” I chuckled at the way her nose wrinkled in disgust.
“Watch yourself, Rhino.” She smirked when I made a similar face.
I held up my beer. “Truce?”
“Truce.” She clinked her bottle against mine and took a sip. “I’m going to run to the bathroom. Be right back.”
The hem of her skirt rode up as she slid off the tall stool and I almost choked on my beer from getting an eyeful of the band of lace circling her thigh. You’d think I would be used to seeing her in thigh-high stockings by now, but my dick reacted like it was the first time. All my blood rushed south so fast, I felt light-headed.
The hustle and bustle around me disappeared, as did any residual stress from the drama in the coffee shop, while I watched Collette make her way around the bar to the alcove housing the restrooms. Damn, her ass looked incredible in that narrow skirt. Her hips swayed with each step, and the muscles in her toned calves flexed, drawing attention to the thin black seam running down the backs of her legs. My eyes followed the dark line down, down, down to the sexy shoes on her feet. Those black, high-heeled beauties had left bruises on my ass when she kept them on at my request when I took her on my couch as Fitz and Olivia got it on during last week’s episode of Scandal.
I grinned at the memory of how I’d gripped those spiky heels until both of us yelled loudly enough for my neighbors to hear. What a night.
My brain shut down as I stood and draped our coats over the seats to claim the spots. My legs moved on autopilot, dodging other Happy Hour patrons until I stood outside the heavy wooden door with a big L on it. Before I could second-guess myself, I pushed it open and stepped inside the ladies’ room.
Collette’s head turned away from the mirror when I barged in. “Only two beers in and you’re stumbling into the wrong room?” She grinned and went back to applying lipstick, clearly amused at the intrusion.
I stared at her freshly-painted lips, then dropped my gaze to her ass, which jutted out as she bent over the counter. The two brain cells still functioning in my head stopped rubbing together and hopped on the bandwagon the others had fled to a few minutes ago. “Not the wrong room,” I said, eyeing the lock on the door. Most restrooms didn’t have one, and I gave silent thanks when the deadbolt slid into place. “And you know damn well it takes more than two drinks for me to get buzzed.”
She clicked the cap on her lipstick and tossed the tube in her purse, leaning closer to the mirror to inspect her mouth. “When you aren’t drinking on an empty stomach, yes. A handful of peanuts doesn’t absorb much alcohol.” Her dark eyes shifted, watching me roll up my sleeves from the corners as she touched up her paint job with a pinky.
I stalked across the floor, coming to a halt behind her. Our eyes met in the mirror, and her hand stilled in midair as I reached around and ran my thumb over her plump lower lip, leaving a red streak on her chin as the digit glided down to her jaw. “The only thing I’m drunk on is you.” I cupped her jaw in my hand, gently turning and lifting her head. “These stockings and heels drive me insane. But you already knew that, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” she said breathlessly, gasping as my other hand made contact with her knee and began to slide up the inside of her leg. “What are you going to do about it?”
“First, I’m going to ruin the rest of your makeup.” I kissed her, moving my lips against hers more aggressively than usual to make my point. My hand curved around her smooth neck and slid up into her dark tresses. “And then your hair…” I fisted the thick strands and gently tugged her head away.
She made this half-whimpering, half-moaning sound when the fingers inching up her inner thigh reached the sweet spot between her legs. “Oh my God.” Her hands gripped the edge of the counter as she widened her stance.
“No, the name’s Ryan, but I’ll gladly answer to that if it makes you happy.” I grinned at her eye roll and pushed aside the panel of her silk panties. “This is going to be quick to keep us from getting busted, so hold on tight.” Slowly, I slid a finger inside her core and watched her eyes go wide, then drift shut in the mirror. “Look at you, all smeared and tousled. Look, Collette,” I ordered, adding a second finger before resuming my quick pace, pumping into her hard and fast while thumbing her clit in tiny circles.
Her eyes opened halfway, unfocused and hazy with lust. “This seems a bit backward,” she whispered. “Shouldn’t I be the one making you feel better after a bad day?”
I gently kissed her on the neck for being so sweet, concerning herself with my needs and putting them before her own. “Trust me, I’ll feel fucking fantastic when you come on my hand. You’re almost there, aren’t you?”
“Y-yes,” she stuttered, rocking into each thrust.
“I can tell from the way your legs are shaking.” Curling the fingers inside her, I rubbed the spot sure to set her off like a bomb.
Her breath hitched when she detonated, her lips parting to form a perfect pink O. I forced her head to the side again and ravaged her mouth, partly to keep her quiet and partly because I just couldn’t resist the urge to kiss her as she climaxed.
When it was over, I carefully withdrew from her and lowered her skirt, which was bunched up around her hips
. Collette grimaced at her reflection and finger-combed her hair into a tamer style. “You’re an animal,” she muttered, reapplying her lipstick.
“Ahhhhroooooo,” I howled playfully, jumping away when she swatted at me. “Cheeseburger here or cheeseburger someplace else?”
“Here is fine.”
I unlocked the door and cracked it open, greeted by nothing but the wall across the narrow hallway. “I’ll order them,” I said over my shoulder, letting the door swing shut behind me.
Neil shouted at me from the small dining area on my way back to our seats by the bar. I grabbed our jackets and went over to join him, ignoring the exaggerated sigh Les let out when I sat down.
The guy still disliked me, even though I’d tried my damnedest to get on his good side. Screw him and his not-so-subtle hints. I’d had enough of his childish huffing and puffing. I was done with making any kind of effort to get him to pull the stick out of his ass. He needed to accept the fact that Collette’s inner circle had grown to include me, whether he liked it or not.
“Holy shit, are you here by yourself?” Neil clutched his chest, faking a heart attack. “Armageddon is right around the corner. I knew we should have built a doomsday bunker in the basement, but nooo, you guys wouldn’t listen to me.”
Les snickered when Collette appeared. He stood and waved an arm over his head as she looked around the bar area with a confused expression. “Over here!” he yelled over the loud music and chatter.
She turned toward his voice, and I sucked in a sharp breath.
“What the hell is on her neck?” Les asked, glaring at me.
“I didn’t realize you guys planned to come here for dinner,” Collette said, settling into the empty seat between him and me.
Les leaned over, his chair teetering on two legs, and peered at the red smudge on her throat–the one I’d put there after ruining her lipstick during our tryst. He reached out and touched it, frowning when some of it transferred to his finger. “Oh, for shit’s sake,” he growled, scowling at me. “You fucked around with my sister in a dirty bathroom? Give me one reason why I shouldn’t put my fist through your teeth.”
More than Money (Found in Chicago Book 1) Page 12
